Dream Whispers
Page 8
Chapter Six
Crash
The smell of bacon and fresh brewed coffee woke Kayde the next morning. His stomach made an eager sound in response to the mouth-watering aroma. Mrs. K might be annoying and bubbly, but at least she could cook.
Kayde took a quick shower and shaved before heading downstairs. His pulse quickened as he thought of a song to get out of fixing the other bathroom sink this morning. His bag was packed and ready to go. He’d eat breakfast first, though. No need to leave hungry.
As he walked past a half closed door near the bottom of the stairs, Kayde could hear Mrs. K’s voice. Was someone else here? He stepped closer, peaking through the doorway. He was less than surprised to find no one else in the room. Mrs. K sat at a small desk, her back to him. She was probably talking to her stupid cats.
Losing interest, Kayde took a step toward the kitchen. But then, Mrs. Kline’s words trailed out of her room with sudden, strange clarity. Her smiling voice spoke, “Oh, and could you please help the young man staying here—Kayde? He looks like he could use a hug! Amen.”
The words caught Kayde off guard. He suspected that his parents prayed, but he never really gave it much thought. He definitely never expected a complete stranger to think of him while talking to a Higher Power. Guilt seeped into his conscience through some crack in his defenses.
No! Not now, not here! He fought with the guilt, trying to shove it back into the hole it’d escaped from. But, for whatever reason, it was strong today. He sighed heavily, dropping his chin so he could rub the back of his neck. While disgusted with his emotions, he knew without doubt that he’d be trying to fix a sink before he left that morning. Why hadn’t the old bag just gone to church or something and left him in peace?
That afternoon, Kayde rode into town toward the hardware store. He hadn’t noticed it yesterday on his little tour, but Mrs. K had said it was next door to one of the grocery stores and that it was open Sunday afternoons. And, of course, she was right. A large, one story building with a huge red sign indicated the hardware store. How could he have missed it?
Kayde backed the Shadow into a parking spot in the store’s small lot facing the road that led to the grocery store next door. He dodged the streams of water pouring off of the roof from melting snow as he walked the length of the sidewalk, but still managed to get water all over his leather jacket. He cursed and brushed water off of his shoulder as he entered the building.
He stood inside the doorway, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dimmer light. Once he could see clearly, Kayde wondered if he’d entered the right store. Homey, country style knick knacks covered shelves next to dozens of neatly packaged toys. Sales racks marked for clearance filled with coats, shirts, and snow pants lined some of the walls. Shoes, boots, and gloves filled more shelves. Where was the hardware?
“Hello! What can I do ya for today, sir?” a friendly voice drew Kayde’s attention to a round man with a graying beard. He wore a flannel shirt and actually had suspenders holding up his pants. The guy could seriously play Santa Claus.
Without returning the man’s brilliant smile, Kayde answered, “Uh, is this the hardware store? I need these parts for Mrs. K—I mean, Mrs. Kline.” He handed the man the paper that had written what he’d need to finish fixing the sink. He was still mad that he’d let himself get roped into this project. However, he’d found the job much easier to do than he’d thought it would be. “She said to charge it to her account,” he told the man.
“Ah, you must be the young man staying at her house. Betty called to let me know you were comin’. Follow me. We’ll find these and get ya goin’.”
The man quickly found what Kayde needed, jotted the items down to charge Mrs. Kline, and sent Kayde on his way.
The sun assaulted his vision as he stepped out into the ever warming day. The water was streaming faster off of the roof tops now, and gurgling streams ran down streets and into sewer drains. Birds chirped and fluttered around in spring frenzy as they readied their nests and chased their mates.
Kayde mounted his bike and started it, making sure to rev the engine loud enough to drown out the birds’ infuriating noise. He moved the bike slowly forward and then stopped near the road to check for passing cars. He needed to go back to the B & B and fix that sink and---
As Kayde turned his head, his vision caught the form of the angel from the storm leaving the grocery store next door. He watched her walking as if he were under a spell. A tall, blond man walked with her toward her silver truck; the sight of him with her made Kayde’s blood burn under his skin. A wild jealousy roused in him over this girl that was practically a stranger.
Then, that music, the song, hit the inside of Kayde’s skull with insane fierceness. In a breath and a heartbeat, Kayde unwittingly revved the engine and released the brake, throwing his bike forward with sudden lurch. The front end of the Shadow lifted off the ground as the rear tire squealed, releasing a cloud of blue smoke; the bike jolted toward the road which now carried a passing car away from the grocery store. Kayde could see what was coming, but was helpless to stop it.
The front wheel of the bike smashed into the passing police cruiser; Kayde was flung forward in a summersault and slammed onto his back against the metal hood of the car. The cruiser screeched to a stop, throwing Kayde off the hood and onto the unforgiving pavement. He realized the folly of not wearing his helmet today as his head smacked on the hard ground. At least the leather jacket saved the skin on his back and arms. He groaned in pain and dismay as he heard the grisly crunch of his bike falling to the same, relentless earth.
Before he could process what was happening, two strong hands grasped the front of his jacket and pulled him roughly off of the ground. His body lifted, and then descended in a whoosh of air. For the second time, his back smashed into the hood of the cruiser. The face of an angry young man came within inches of his, his sour breath hot in Kayde’s face. The man’s brown hair hung over his tall forehead toward a set of steely gray eyes. He curled his lips over incredibly straight teeth and snarled at Kayde.
“What do ya think you’re doin’, punk?”
Kayde scowled back at him. He wanted to release all of his fury on this person, to sing a dark and evil song. It wasn’t just his broken bike or the way the guy was handling him; he’d dealt with the law often enough in the past. There was something else about this policeman that made Kayde’s insides flame. With forced calmness, he said, “Get your hands off of me…now.”
The sweeter song from the angel was still swirling in his mind. That song and the darker emotions attacking him suddenly clashed inside his skull, creating an instant blast of light and pain. He raised his palms to his temples, pressing as he squeezed his eyes shut and growled from shock and pain.
Through the throbbing, he heard distant voices. Another man was talking. “Terrance! Let him go. It was an accident. We saw the whole thing.”
Then the voice closer to him—the policeman, Terrance, “But, look at him! He’s on drugs or something. He’s freakin’ out! Besides, he dented my fender.”
Despite the man’s words, Kayde felt Terrance release his jacket. Kayde slid to the ground, still pressing his temples and struggling to gain control of the contrasting music battling in his brain. He tried to speak, to beg someone to knock him out or rush him to the hospital, but his voice was lost to the shouting noise that only he could hear.
“Kayde?” This voice was softer, tenderer, but it cut through all other sounds like a sunbeam through a snow ball. Kayde forced his eyes open a sliver. Through blurred vision, he could see Becca leaning over him. “Are you okay?” Her voice calmed him slightly more, but he couldn’t answer her—not yet. If he opened his mouth, he feared he’d release some hideous song that would cause a nightmarish catastrophe.
Becca’s blurred form knelt beside him. He could hear the blond man and Terrance arguing, but he didn’t pay them much attention. His eye
s were fixed on his angel. She reached out tentatively, pausing before allowing her hand to rest softly over one of his.
Kayde gasped—and so did Becca. All music had stopped and the headache had vanished at her touch. Kayde was engulfed in a cloud of peace. He neither felt angry nor afraid. He didn’t know what it meant, but he knew he never wanted Becca to stop touching his hand.
Had she felt it too? Her beautiful eyes were wide and wondering, staring into his in a curious state of shock. In simultaneous, trembling whispers, they both asked, “How did you do that?”