by Savannah Mae
“Where’s your mother going?” my father asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
We stood in awkward silence. Well, at least, I felt desperately awkward. My father, on the other hand, seemed sadder than I’d seen him before, as if he felt responsible for something.
“Dad, things are going to be okay,” I tried to console him.
Brushing his hand through his thinning hair. “I hope that’s true.”
I couldn’t take it anymore. I didn’t want my father to take on any more pain or hardship. I had no reason to believe he’d accept what I told him or understand any of what I was about to say, but I couldn’t keep it bottled in anymore. I had to tell someone.
“Dad, I’m hearing things. Strange things,” I said, focusing on the ground so I wouldn’t see the hurt in his eyes.
He cleared his throat. “You’re what?”
“I hear things and see things,” I said again.
Lifting my chin, he asked, “What kind of things? How long has this been happening?”
I don’t know why tears sprang to my eyes suddenly. A lump formed in my throat.
“For a while now,” I answered, my voice shaking.
“What do you see?” he asked.
This was it. I was really going to do this.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, taking a moment to think. “A few months ago, I started having vivid dreams. Dreams that felt real. I ignored them at first, then they kept happening repeatedly,” I explained.
He interjected. “You’ve always had vivid dreams. Don’t you remember when you were a little girl? Your mother and I would have to go running into your room to comfort you and assure you that everything was alright. You used to think that the Jinx sisters were coming after you. It was the strangest thing because we never let you go anywhere near them when you were growing up. We could never figure out what it was that bothered you so much about them.”
I remembered the dreams that used to plague me when I was young. It was like I had some ingrained belief that the Jinx sisters spent their days waiting to corner me and do who knows what with me. The rumor mill didn’t help with my paranoia. That’s also part of the reason why I started hanging out at Abracajava Cafe. I wanted to prove to myself that they were not the mean, vile creatures that people made them out to be.
“These dreams are different. More real, if you know what I mean. When I wake up, it’s like what it was I saw in my dream was real, except I don’t know how to explain it. It’s real, but it’s not.” I was frustrated by the fact I couldn’t explain myself well. I’d never been one to be at a loss for words. How do I tell him that what I saw in my dreams had come true, except not in my lifetime?
Sighing, my father rubbed his temple. “Whatever it is that’s troubling you, you can come to us with it. We’re not going to shun you. We love you.” He placed his hand on my knee, squeezing it gently to comfort me. “I think I know where your mother has run off to.”
I looked out the window toward the driveway. “Where?”
He stood up quickly. “I have to go. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
“Where are you going?”
I could see his internal struggle. He was anxious to leave.
“I’ll be back.” He walked toward the front door, pausing to grab his car keys on his way out.
I watched him walk at a quick pace to his car, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket.
“Who is he calling?” I asked as I stood to walk over to the window.
As he drove away, all I could do is watch and hope that whatever he and my mother were up to would go well. I don’t know how long I stood at the window, staring off into space, worried about my parents and still shaken from the incident at the museum.
My cell phone vibrated in my pocket.
“Hello,” I said, exhausted from the day’s events.
“Hey, are you okay?” Ben sounded worried. I wasn’t surprised he’d already heard about my day.
“I’m good. What did you hear?” I braced myself to hear how great the story had grown.
“You were in a trance? How did that happen?” Ben asked.
Trance?
I exhaled slowly, mindful of my shattered nerves. “It wasn’t like that. Something creepy happened. I went to see Mrs. Sauer to ask her about the book and to see if she knew who the people in the photos were-”
He interjected, “Did she know who they were? Was she surprised to see how much you resemble that woman in the photos?”
I swallowed. “I don’t know. She acted weird about it. She didn’t really tell me anything.”
“So, what happened?” Ben asked.
“Well, just when she was ready to explain things, Zephyr showed up out of nowhere. After that, everything fell apart. It got really strange,” I said, still unsure of what took place there.
“Zephyr was there? Why? What did he want?” Ben asked, raising his voice.
I took the phone from my ear, my head still pounding. “I don’t know,” I answered weakly.
“Hey! What’s up? Are you sure you’re okay?” Ben asked.
“I don’t feel well. I think I should take a nap,” I answered, wanting to do anything but have this conversation.
Ben exhaled loudly into the phone. “Don’t go to sleep yet. I’m coming over.” He hung up before I had time to protest. I loved him dearly, but I didn’t have the energy to deal with him now. Ever since I’d left the museum - ignoring everyone around me at the time - I’d felt off kilter, like my head was full and spinning at the same time. It was as if my brain was fighting for release from my skull.
He must have been close when he called because I barely had time to settle back onto the sofa before he came barging through the unlocked front door and hollering my name up the stairs.
“Melanie! Melanie! Where are you?” he screamed.
I lifted my head from the sofa cushion. “I’m right here. Stop yelling.”
Following the sound of my voice, he ran into the living room, breathing heavily. “Melanie? No, you’re not okay. We need to get you to the hospital.” He picked me up. “Don’t fight me on this. You need help.”
I couldn’t have fought him or anyone if I’d tried. My head felt like someone had placed it in a blender and turned it on high.
He ran with me in his arms, breathing heavily, muttering under his breath that all would be okay. Up above, in the sky, the vultures remained perched high atop the electrical wires, watching us with mild curiosity.
Ben sat me down in the passenger seat of his car and closed the door behind me. I rested my head on the seat back, closing my eyes.
“You’re hot. Your face is red. What is going on? Are you in pain?” Ben asked, throwing the keys into the ignition and starting the engine.
I stared straight ahead, seeing everything and nothing at the same time. I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t think. It was like my mind was blank. Not a single thought, not even the sounds around us. There was nothing there. Nothing at all.
The next thing I heard was a bevy of voices. None of them completely recognizable. I wondered if maybe I’d imagined them.
“How old is she?” someone asked.
“Twenty-five. She just had a birthday this past April,” another said.
My mother? What is she doing here?
“Has she been ill? Complaining of headaches? Nausea? Vomiting?” a man asked.
A doctor?
My father’s voice, sounded panicked. “When can she see the doctor? She needs help.”
I tried to speak, but words wouldn’t come out of my mouth.
“Honey, you’re going to be okay. They’re going to take good care of you,” my mother said. This time, I could make out her silhouette by my side.
I groaned.
“Don’t talk, honey. We’re here,” my father said.
Another voice. This was different but familiar. “How is she?”
My father’s tone changed. “What are you doing here?” To my mo
ther, he asked, “What is she doing here? I thought we agreed that we wouldn’t do this?”
The woman said, “Ned, none of that matters now, does it? What matters is that we help Artemel.”
Who?
I whispered, my throat burning. “Mom?”
She was by my bedside immediately, tears in her eyes. “I’m right here, sweetheart. We’re here.”
“Get her out of here, Nelly. Not now. This isn’t the time,” my father ordered.
The doctor entered the room. “I’m Dr. Jensen. What do we have here?”
The room came into focus. My parents stood side by side. Ben sat in a chair to my left and at the end of my bed stood Calliope.
My father’s eyes followed my gaze. “She’s just leaving. The doctor is here now, sweetheart.”
Calliope refused to step out.
The doctor ignored the standoff and examined me, checking my heartrate and my pulse.
“Have you had a fever?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No.”
“She’s not sick,” Calliope spoke directly to the doctor.
“Ms. Jinx, are you family?” Dr. Jensen asked.
My father answered for her. “No! She’s not family.”
“I think, it’s time,” my mother whispered.
Dr. Jensen continued asking me questions. “When did this all begin? Do you have migraines?”
I answered each question, but my attention was focused on a heated exchange going on in the corner between my parents and Calliope.
“Why is she here?” I asked aloud.
Ben moved closer. “She was with your mom.”
“I’m going to order some tests. The phlebotomist will come in and draw some blood and we’ll go from there.”
Calliope spoke again. “No. She doesn’t need a blood test.”
The doctor stopped cold, speaking directly to Calliope. “I’m sorry, but that’s not your call to make. I’m the doctor. I’ll handle things.”
My mother whispered something to my father.
He looked at me, his face strained. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. We’ll explain later.”
I didn’t understand. “What are you apologizing for?”
Calliope looked at me, but was speaking to the doctor. “Yes, we will explain everything later. For now, listen to the good doctor. I’m sure he knows what he’s doing.”
I could see the discomfort her presence was causing. I said, “You should leave. I don’t understand what you’re doing here.”
She smiled coyly, looking at my parents then back at me. “You will soon. You will soon.” With that, she stepped out of the room, leaving me more confused than I had been previously.
“Why is she here?” I asked my mother. “She doesn’t know me.”
My mother’s voice shook. “Honey, you’re wrong. She knows you quite well. She was just trying to help. She’s concerned about you. They all are.”
“Who?” I asked. “You mean the Jinx sisters? Why do they care? Where were you?”
My mother averted her eyes from me.
“She went to get answers,” my father said.
“Answers to what?” I asked, my throat burning as I spoke.
“I went to see Calliope and her sisters. I wanted their help,” my mother explained.
I looked at Ben. He seemed just as confused as I was.
“Why would you get them involved? They’re not family,” I protested.
“Sweetheart, they’re your aunts,” my father said, tears spilling from his eyes.
Chapter Fourteen
“Are you kidding me? You know what you could do with this information?” Ben hadn’t stopped thinking up ways to improve his life with my supposedly inherited abilities.
I, on the other hand, wasn’t the least bit thrilled about any of this. To be fair, no one had bothered to fill me in on all the details as yet. They - meaning my parents and the Jinx sisters - were still arguing back and forth about many things, but none of them important enough, apparently, to tell me. After all, who was I, but the person still lying in a hospital bed, wearing a hideous open-back gown and awaiting the results of the blood tests that I was sure would confirm none of the nonsense about being related to the Jinx family could possibly be true. Nope. No way. As far as I was concerned, my real parents - my birth parents - lived on a remote island, thousands of miles away from the kooky residents of Jinx Cove and the surrounding area.
“Melanie, do you realize how huge this is? You could be rich.” Ben was already counting dollar signs.
I gave him the dead eye.
“What? Think about it - if you bought a lottery ticket, you could hit it big.” Ben already had that money spent, I’m sure.
“I’m not buying lottery tickets and I’m not psychic,” I protested.
“Sure, you are.” Lyra poked her head in between the draw curtains. “You could be anything you want.”
I bit my lip. I didn’t know which sister I liked least, but I was sure, Lyra wasn’t a contender for the one I liked the most.
Ben smiled at her, delighted with the idea of us being related. He took comfort in the strangest things, hence the dumb tattoo.
“We don’t know the scope of your abilities yet, but we’ll find out. I can’t wait to see what you inherited. Your mother - your birth mother - would be so tickled to know we finally told you.” Lyra’s eyes filled with tears.
“Don’t say that,” I started, my throat still raw. “My mother is standing right there.” I forced the words out of my mouth, pointing to a spot just beyond the drawn curtains. “Those are my parents.”
Hearing my raised voice, my parents emerged from the other side of the curtains, where they’d been huddled, talking to the other Jinx sisters.
“What’s going on here?” She wore a smile on her face, but her eyes showed clear signs of strain.
Calliope and Calypso followed closely behind. I still hadn’t figured out a way to tell them apart.
“Oh, we’re fine. I was just telling her how relieved we are that she knows the truth now. It’s been far too long,” Lyra said.
I looked at my parents. “Make her stop. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t care about my birth parents. I don’t want to know.” With tears streaming down my face, I said, “You’re my parents.”
I felt like the hurt child I used to be. For several years of my life, I’d worry myself silly about who my birth parents were. I’d pretend that they’d left me with the Abneys while they went on secret missions and that one day they’d return and all would be explained. It would all make sense and I wouldn’t have to give anyone up or give up the home I loved and the parents I loved more than anything.
Now, the last thing I wanted was to be thrust into this strange, new reality. I didn’t ask for this. I never imagined this. The Jinx sisters, the visions, the dreams, and all the weird happenings weren’t me. They had nothing to do with me, no matter what these women claimed.
My mother took my hand. “Sweetheart, we don’t need to talk about this now or ever.” She glanced over her shoulder at the sisters. “You need to focus on your health. Nothing else matters now.”
The sisters nodded at her and my father and left the room with their heads bowed.
No one stopped them. I was thankful for that. I didn’t want them in the room. I didn’t want them anywhere near me or my family.
Ben sat stone-faced.
I knew he was disappointed. It’s not that he truly wanted to use the news for his own personal gain, but I think, he was excited for me. He had been there when I’d wax poetic about who I hoped my birth parents would be. He’d seen and heard it all. I understood, he struggled with the knowledge as much as I did and tried to support me.
“You okay?” I asked, reaching out for Ben’s hand.
He squeezed it, pumping it twice. “I’m good. I’m just worried about you. I want to make sure you’re doing okay. You know, because I need you to be my wingman.”
I lifted a brow at him.
&
nbsp; “Wing girl?” He winked at me. “You know what I mean. I need you to help keep all the women in check.”
There, things were back to normal. Kind of. I hoped.
We shared a laugh. Just like old times. We were going to be alright, no matter what happened to the house.
The doctor returned to the room. “Well, you’re not pregnant.”
I choked on the small amount of saliva in my mouth.
My mother gasped.
My father, much like me, coughed, clearly uncomfortable with any such discussion.
Ben had the opposite reaction. He doubled over with laughter, nearly falling on the floor in front of him. Catching himself, he straightened his spine and took a deep breath. “Sorry, but that was funny.”
I grabbed the pillow out from behind my head and threw it at him. “You’re impossible.”
He started giggling again. “And, you’re not pregnant.”
My father groaned. “Enough already. This is serious. Let the doctor speak.”
The look on the doctor’s face was enough to send us all into fits of laughter, but luckily for him, my father had already made it clear that he had no time or patience for any more surprises from anyone, including me.
“Yes, sorry. Go ahead, Dr. Jensen. Did you find out what’s wrong with me?” I asked.
He pursed his lips.
Oh, no. Bad news.
A calm came over everyone. We braced ourselves for what would come next.
Dr. Jensen sighed. “All of your levels are good. There’s nothing unusual. You’re a little anemic, but not so much so where you should be alarmed. Do you take any vitamins?”
I shook my head. I wasn’t good with medication of any kind. I’d always forget to take medication on the rare occasions I’d become ill.
“Green leafy vegetables will help,” the doctor said, his eyebrows furrowed still. There was something he wasn’t telling me.
“What is it?” I asked.
My father chimed in. “Did you find any reason at all for her headaches or the fainting spell?”
Dr. Jensen tilted his head to the side. “No. I don’t think it’s anything to worry about. She may have gotten up too fast.” He looked at me, asking the same question he and two separate nurses had asked earlier. “Did you feel lightheaded before this happened?”