Emily Vaziri's eyes started going down the road, to the snow-lined road up ahead. She should have never come back from Harrodsburg this way! Now, in her final semester at University of Kentucky, she was ready to get her degree and leave the state. It was all about Wildcats this, Wildcats that. Coming from California made her an outcast. Being the daughter of Jewish Persian nobility did not help either. But, of course, after having to go by the alias Emily Vanderbilt for five years (to avoid 9/11 backlash), she was tired of having to conform to the British notions of American perfection. She wanted to be Emily Vaziri again, but Vanderbilt had stuck. Then again, another hairpin turn in these Kentucky Mountains pulled her back into the present, but then another hairpin turn and her Toyota slid over some unseen ice, through a guardrail, and careened down into the Kentucky River at high speed.
This was it! she thought. All this studying of business and graphic arts was going to amount to nothing! Then, just as fast as it began, her terror was over. The car crashed into a large boulder on the river.
When the shock wore off, Emily could see she was safe. Another terror soon came to light. Four tall shadows walked toward her car. Were these the crazy hill people she had heard so much about? She reached into her glove compartment and pulled out a set of ninja stars. She had learned how to use them in martial arts classes. She was a first-degree black belt in Judo, so that was not a problem either. Now, did these men have guns?
They came closer to the car, not seeming to care if anyone saw them. As the shadows came closer, Emily could see that they were men, three of them with long hair. They wore brown leggings, metal boots, and high necked tunic jackets. They also had long dark capes. They all carried flashlights, and she could hear the clanking of their swords and the swhishing of capes. One of them had white hair-just like her! That was weird! Emily felt she know somehow that she was different. Nobody in her family, not her father, mother, or stepmother, had it, nor any relatives. They did not stop coming up to the car. Emily was paralyzed, and broke into a cold sweat. She survived only to be raped and murdered by a bunch of renaissance-faire tweakers!
The four men surrounded the car-all of them with strangely mushy looks on their faces. The white-haired man, standing by Emily's window, tapped on the glass.
"Are you okay? Can you speak?"
Emily screamed.
One of the other men chimed in, from the other side of the car. "She sounds as crazy as you, too!"
"Shut up, dickhead."
She pulled the keys from her ignition and shined the flashlight on the leader. He had long white hair, silvery green eyes and darker skin, just like Emily herself.
"Miss Vanderbilt, are you all right? You had a right nasty spill back there."
"I'm fine. A little cold, though."
"It happens. Would you like a hot caramel latte?"
Even though there did not seem to be a Starbucks for miles, Emily nodded. The leader mysteriously produced a commuter coffee cup with a pearly lavender outside and black rubber grip and top. When he handed the cup to her, it seemed to radiate a gentle heat. The latte inside was as hot as though it just came from a barista's hand.
"Y'all had a pretty big crash there. The helicopter will be here any minute. I just wanted to make sure you survived."
"Why? What's the big reason some hill people gotta stick their nose in my life?"
"You'll know the day after tomorrow."
A helicopter sounded overhead.
"Promise us this, my jewel. Don't try to tell anyone we were here. You were just stopped by a rock close to the river."
"Are you guardian angels?"
Just like that, they were gone.
*****
She had to heal in the hospital, since suffering a concussion and broken leg. The staff at UK Hospital was amazed that she even survived, and that nothing caught on fire, considering the wreck her car became. The reporters from the major TV and radio stations were all quite friendly to her, considering she suffered humiliating leg and ankle injuries two years before dropping out of the UK Wildcats basketball team.
A few days later, her parents came from Southern California to see her. After the initial shock to the staff that her parents were racially Jewish Iranian, and decked out in flag pins and red, white and blue clothing, they came up to the room. They spoke about how life was, and how things were getting along.
"How are home prices in Dove Canyon?"
"Still rising. Listen, I know you want to go back to California, but...somebody said you can't go home again."
"But father, I want to work with you!"
"Honey, I know. We want to live here. Kentucky needs a few of us. Besides, do you realize how cheap real estate here is?"
"Do you realize how backward this place is?"
"I wouldn't say that. The days of 9/11 are coming to an end. Besides, we ourselves have turned in sleeper cells, remember?"
"Father, I'm sorry. I should have known people are less judgmental when they know us."
"Darling, I know."
After they hugged, Emily's father spoke up again.
"Darling, there is something I have to tell you. I am not your real father."
"What?"
"It's true. There was a woman we hired to conceive you, but a doctor
Emily remembered the four men at the scene of the accident, but said nothing of it. (Betraying your saviors is never a good idea.)
"What mark?"
"Why, it has been said a royal family under the Ottoman Empire had white hair, which was a mark of divine royalty."
"My hair?"
"It denotes wisdom well beyond your years. However, sometimes that wisdom is blocked by this fear of the unknown."
"Father, all my records at UK are under Emily Vanderbilt."
"I know. However, the very minute you graduate, you are to retake the name Vaziri. It is a name of honor."
Emily nodded.
Soon, she was released to her parents, who brought her to their hotel to make sure she could run well on her crutches. At least the room was a suite, where she stayed out front while her parents stayed in back.
Her parents tried to keep their bedroom activities quiet, but Emily could still hear it.
