“Good. My tooth fell out.” She opened her mouth to reveal a huge gaping space where her front tooth used to be.
“Wow, tooth fairy coming?”
She shrugged, looking slightly confused. “Not sure.”
I realized my mistake immediately. Santa hadn’t come last year, so she hadn’t expected the tooth fairy. But I knew for a fact the tooth fairy would visit; I’d make sure of it, even if I had to dip into my meager savings.
“Lizzie, come back and finish your sandwich,” her mother called out, giving me a wave and welcoming smile.
I grinned, watching the girl weave her way around the other homeless diners. As she settled next to her mother and older sister, I couldn’t help but wonder about Caroline. Had she made it safely to Aaron’s compound? Had she finally found the happiness and peace she deserved?
I felt Malcolm pause beside me. “Ready?”
“Yeah.” I followed him out the back door to the docks. The soup kitchen was tucked between two high-rise buildings on the bay. Garbage seemed to be magnetically attracted to this very spot, floating and pooling in our area. No one thought twice about dumping their trash here; after all, everyone was too busy trying to live to complain. I hated that children like Lizzie had to live amongst the mess. If I was staying, I’d be scooping out the garbage as I had every week for the past four months. But as I knew, and Malcolm knew, by tomorrow, I’d be gone and on my way to Maine for the first time in over a year.
“How can they be so happy?” I asked, as we settled onto two plastic chairs we’d recycled from a nearby dumpster. We had a small spot of asphalt where the staff could sit by the bay for breaks. It was our tiny piece of dirty heaven.
“What do you mean?”
“With this depressing scenery?” I nodded toward the factory across the water, a factory releasing pollution so thick, it hung suspended around the building like a dark cloud. “How can those kids still smile with so little?”
“Because it’s not about the scenery.” Malcolm relaxed, resting his entwined fingers on his flat stomach. He was enjoying the warm day, and he was glad he’d moved south ten years ago to get away from the cold weather. “Yeah, being in a forest or lovely garden might provide inspiration, but all those kids really want is love. That’s what we give to them. That’s what you give to them. That’s why this is so hard for me.”
I didn’t bother to act surprised because I’d known he was going to say the words. I’d been preparing for this conversation for the past week. I’d miss him, this man who was only ten years older than me, but who had become more of a father figure than any other man I’d ever had in my life. He and his wife had taken me in with no reservations, when I’d had nowhere to go.
“Cam, it’s time for you to leave.”
I swallowed hard over the lump of emotion clogging my throat. Instinctively, I wanted to deny it. But I kept quiet because he was right. I’d known it for about a month now.
When I’d first left Savannah it had been difficult to know my own mind and thoughts. My sorrow had kept the truth buried. And it didn’t help that even though Lewis was over a thousand miles away in Maine, I could still feel his energy.
“When I found you sitting in that park, Lord.” Malcolm grinned, his white teeth flashing against his dark skin. “You were a lost soul if I’d ever seen one. You’ve brought so much to this place in the past few months. You’ve given these children the attention they so craved. You’ve made them feel special.”
I nodded, tears stinging my eyes. He was right. All they wanted was to feel like someone cared about them. To feel loved. I supposed it was what everyone wanted, whether young or old.
“And we helped you,” Malcolm said. “We gave you something to focus on other than your sorrow. We gave you the family you needed. A family who didn’t know your past and therefore didn’t judge you.”
It was part of the reason why I’d left Savannah… to find a place where I could be the person I needed to be. No expectations. No pressure. Just me.
Even now Malcolm didn’t ask for my story. All he knew were the basics; my mom had died and my dad wasn’t in the picture. It’s why I liked this place so much, no one asked you to give more than was necessary. We worked together as one, without expectation, without judgment, without explanation.
We were silent for a moment, watching the gulls swoop down over the pier, looking for a piece of garbage they might be able to actually eat. How many times in the past month had I sat here between the rush of meals, wondering what Lewis was doing, how Nora was, where Aaron and Owen had ended up?
“It’s time you go. It’s time to accept where you belong. You’ve found you; it’s time to find your family. Your home.”
For the longest time I’d thought I had no family. Yeah, I might not have the ideal father, and I might not have a mother but I had Nora. I had Lewis.
He rested his hand on my shoulder. “Deny it and you can stay. You tell me this is where you belong, that you know that deep down, and I won’t say another word.”
“I can’t.” I took in a deep trembling breath. “Because you’re right. Like always.”
He laughed. “Can you repeat that to my wife?”
I grinned. “She’d never forgive me.”
“Very true.” His laughter faded and together we sat companionably for a few more minutes, wanting the moment to last as long as it could. It was an easy silence. It was a silence born of friendship and of farewells. I wondered if I’d ever see him again. Maybe, maybe not. I knew, and accepted now, that people came into our lives all the time. Some stayed for years, while others were as fleeting yet as special as a butterfly’s fragile life.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“You don’t have to thank me. We’re family now. We’re connected.”
“Do you feel the energy, coming off the waves?” My mom had asked me those months ago at the beach.“The energy from the moon? The energy that keeps the planets in balance?”
I had nodded even though I hadn’t truly understood the connection until now. That pull. That low hum that pulsed through my blood; that connected me to the world, to the people I’d met.
“Everything is made up of energy. We are made up of energy. It’s what connects us together.”
“Lizzie needs a visit from the tooth fairy,” I said, suddenly eager to go; desperate to see Lewis and the others.
Malcolm winked. “Oh, I think the tooth fairy will find her at the shelter. Don’t worry; it’s time to focus on you.” He rested his hand on my shoulder. “Now come on. Let’s go say goodbye.”
Just as we stood a soft rain began to fall, a clarifying rain, a promising rain. I knew what they were planning even before I entered the kitchen. But when the fifty people inside— people I’d worked with, peopled I’d fed— erupted into applause and cheers, the emotion and energy overwhelmed me. The tears I’d thought were finished sprung to my eyes.
Lizzie jumped excitedly up and down in the middle of the room with a group of other kids. Someone had strung a banner across the far wall that said they’d miss me, and I knew they would. I knew I had affected the people here. I’d made a difference without using any mind reading abilities, without any connections.
Their energy swirled around me, welcomed me in warmth and love. Their very being flowed through me and mine through them. They thought I had selflessly given my time for others. But the truth was that their lives, their happiness, their hope had saved me.
Malcolm was right. It was time to go home. It was time to return to my family.
****
The man seated across the room from me was heartbroken over his wife who had died of cancer. He missed her horribly and wished he could see her again… just once. He felt guilty about moving on and finding happiness, even though those instances were few and far between.
But it wasn’t the guy lost in guilt and confusion who held my attention.
No, it was the guy standing outside the small coffee shop, the guy who paused across th
e street on the sidewalk while an autumn breeze swept a pile of colorful leaves in a whirlwind around him. The guy who was thinking about the girlfriend who had left him, a girlfriend he still cared about. He was the one I focused on.
A sudden gust of wind rattled the windows.
“Cold outside, but they’re saying the Island’s going to have a mild winter,” the waitress said, refilling the man’s coffee.
He grunted in response, too lost in his sorrows to actually make conversation.
I barely heard her chatter, but kept my gaze locked to that door. Lewis moved across the street with determined strides that sent my pulse racing. The closer he came, the harder my heart beat. I had to resist the urge to jump to my feet and meet him halfway. Nothing like looking desperate. The bell overhead tinkled as he stepped inside, bringing with him the musky scent of fall.
His gaze found me immediately. My entire body came to life just being near him. As if a weight had been lifted from my chest, I could breathe with ease once more.
“Lewis,” the waitress called out, waving. “Be with you in a minute, honey.”
He nodded, but kept his attention on me. He looked different, somehow. His hair was longer, his tan had faded but his blue eyes popped, were brighter. He wore jeans and a slate gray sweater that fit his body perfectly. Amazing would be an understatement. If possible, he’d grown more attractive, or maybe it was just that I’d missed him that much.
With a purpose that made me slightly nervous, he started forward. I’d been waiting for this moment for months, yet it was so much sweeter than I’d imagined. When he reached me, he didn’t pause but in a fluid movement, pulled out a chair and settled at the table. I breathed deeply, missing his scent, savoring the nearness of him. It felt like it had been years. This was no dream, but this was life coming sharply back into focus.
I curled my hands around my warm mug, dampening down the desire to reach out to him. I still wasn’t quite sure how excited he was to see me. I knew he’d missed me, I knew he cared; his energy told me that much. But did he care enough to want to pick up our relationship where it had left off?
He dropped his gaze to my hands, then traveled up my arms, and to my face again, as if taking in every detail, making sure I was real. The wool sweater I wore suddenly felt too hot.
Taking in a deep, trembling breath, I tried to calm my pounding pulse. I didn’t regret leaving, I couldn’t, for it was only by leaving that I’d found the real me. There was no way I could’ve had a meaningful relationship with Lewis as lost and confused as I’d been four months ago.
Yeah, I still felt guilty about my mother’s death. She had died not only so S.P.I. wouldn’t come after me, but knowing my body couldn’t handle having the source from both parents. And with her death, her line of the source had faded. I still missed her and the relationship we could have had. But I now knew that life would go on. The sun would still shine, and good things could still happen. I’d transformed, but I wasn’t the only one. Lewis seemed more at peace as well. Things had definitely changed between us; I could only hope they’d changed for the better.
“When did you know I’d arrived?” I asked my voice breathless. I’d been sitting here for only ten minutes, trying to decide if I should just appear at the house, call…or what. But Lewis had obviously sensed me.
“The moment you stepped on the island.”
We still had that connection then. After all these months it hadn’t faded. “You left for Maine immediately?”
He nodded. “Owen thought it would be best for Nora.”
Although I knew he hadn’t meant anything by it, his words stung. Yeah, I’d needed to leave for my own piece of mind, but I still felt guilty for abandoning Nora. I could only hope that she too had been able to let go, to live, to find happiness once more.
“Is she okay?”
He glanced at the tabletop, hesitating. “Yeah. She is now that she has a purpose.”
He’d certainly caught my interest. “What purpose is that?”
“The children.”
“She’s had children?” I teased. “Wow, things really have changed.”
He smiled briefly, a smile I knew all too well. A smile I’d dreamt about every night for four months. “Deborah and the kids are here.” He clasped his hands together in front of him and I could tell he was as uneasy as I. “We all decided to work together to teach them about their powers.”
I didn’t even try to hide my surprise. “Like a school for mind readers?”
He nodded.
How funny. Nora had become a headmistress of some bizarre school for children who could read minds. “You’re helping her?”
“Yeah.” Of course Lewis was helping because he would never abandon someone in need. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
I felt no anger in his statement, only honesty. He didn’t blame me for leaving. He didn’t blame me because his mind had been erased. He didn’t even blame me that his life was sort of insane, thanks to me and my family.
“That’s amazing.” And I meant it. I was glad they had a purpose in life, and I was glad the children had Lewis and Nora. But was there room for me in this new world they’d created? I hesitated, too nervous to ask. I wasn’t the only one anxious.
He looked somewhat unsure for the first time since arriving. “Would you like to see the place?”
I hadn’t been to Aaron’s since last year when my mind had been erased. Taking my lower lip between my teeth, I glanced outside. It was why I’d come here, right? Of course I wanted to return, but I also hesitated for some reason. Bad memories, I supposed. “Is Aaron there?”
“No. He left. Owen hears from him occasionally, but not often. The loss of your mother destroyed him.”
I nodded, unsure how I should feel. The fact that I actually felt sorry for my father surprised me. I knew only too well that her death could have easily destroyed me. For a while I thought it had.
“So, do you want to see it?”
I smiled. “Yeah.”
He returned my grin and his joy warmed a path all the way to my soul, as if I’d just taken a giant drink of hot chocolate on a bitterly cold winter’s day. I was nervous, but eager. It had taken months, but I now knew that this was where I belonged.
Lewis stood and I followed.
“Anything to go?” The waitress asked.
Lewis glanced her way. “A chai tea refill.”
Startled, I glanced at him, but there was no indication of acknowledgement upon his face. He hadn’t realized the importance of that drink. I glanced at my mug. Certainly he couldn’t tell what I’d been drinking, so then how’d he know?
Just like that I was back in the coffee shop in the town where I’d lived with grandma last year. The coffee shop where Lewis had first told me about the amazing things I could do.
“Chai tea with cinnamon.” He pushed the cup toward me as I settled in the chair across from him.
“How’d you…” But I didn’t need to finish that sentence. Of course he knew. He’d read my mind. “Thanks.”
He gave me a sheepish grin. Outside, rain pelted the windows. It was a cold, gloomy afternoon, but I felt warm. I didn’t have a clue what Lewis had to say, but knowing what I did about him, I prayed it was going to change my life for the better.
It had. Hadn’t it? I handed the waitress my cup and waited while she filled a to-go mug for me. Sure, I’d had to go through a bit of hell to get here, but life had changed, I had changed, and for the better.
But Lewis had also changed. Maybe his memories were gone for good. Or maybe, just maybe, deep down they were still there. Eagerly, I took my to-go cup and followed Lewis outside. Around me hung the scent of decaying leaves, sleeping earth, and saltwater. It was a scent of hope, of promises of rebirth, of new life just waiting to be uncovered.
A few locals strolled the sidewalks, heading into shops and cafés for the afternoon. They nodded in greeting, their welcoming nature comforting. I realized it didn’t have to be us and them;
mind readers against non-mind readers. Although Aaron had kept the children locked away from the town, away from life, as if they were freaks, we didn’t have to. We were free.
Free in this picture-perfect New England town where pumpkins and gourds lined the sidewalks, giving the scenery a festive atmosphere. A few trees retained their colorful fall leaves. Others had slipped into their winter’s sleep, mere skeletal branches lining the road. But they would come back to life, they always did.
It was a comfortable silence as we moved across the street, the only sound the soft tap of our shoes and the rustle of the leaves. Amazing how one year could change a person’s life. The seasons would come and fade. Plants would die and regrow. The world would spin. Yet, the energy was there, always there, and there was a comfort in that thought.
Lewis opened the car door for me. It was a small black vehicle that I didn’t remember, but when I settled inside and his familiar scent surrounded me I realized the car belonged to him. I started to turn toward the window to watch him enter when a small butterfly charm hanging from the mirror caught my attention. Startled, I reached for the tiny piece just as Lewis settled in the driver’s seat. I thought of the day on the beach with my mom. I thought about me. I thought about Lewis. He started the car and eased onto the road that would take us to Aaron’s mansion.
“A little girly.” He grinned, noticing where my attention lay. “But Caroline gave it to me. She said it was very important I keep it with me.”
Hope bloomed within my soul, the petals opening, growing. There was still magic in the world. Only a month ago I never would have imagined I could feel this way again. Excited about life. Eager to wake up in the morning. Curious about the future. “Caroline is here?”
“Yeah. She’s been waiting for you.”
I smiled a knowing smile. Of course she had been. She’d told me we’d meet up again, and she had believed it, even if I hadn’t. “She has?”
“She’s drawn a picture for you almost every day you’ve been gone.”
The Mind Games (The Mind Readers) Page 28