by Sam Logue
Neil cut her short. “I’m not supposed to tell him anything. Please don’t talk about this with him. She can’t know I told you.”
“I don’t know if I can promise to keep a secret like this.”
“I’m not a bad guy, really, Miss Katie.” Neil’s eyes focused on the floor and not on her when he talked. “I’ve got the Mark, but I would never read those kids myself. I keep away from all that. Elvina told me I was just a lazy bum, said all I could get was her kind of work. She says she’s helping these neglected kids by getting them off the streets and finding them good homes and apprenticeships with her friends. I don’t know what exactly they’re doing with them, but I saw something strange one time.”
“What did you see?” Katie asked.
“I saw one of the kids after a reading was held here. They weren’t moving. I tried to help them, but Elvina’s friend shooed me away, said there had been an accident and he would see to it that the child got help.”
“Who was her friend?”
“This older guy.”
Katie swallowed then held her breath. “Was the child a boy?”
“No, a little girl,” Neil said quietly.
She breathed out.
“You okay?” Neil asked.
“Yeah.” Katie’s joy felt wrong, because even if the child had not been Paul, she’d still belonged to another family. “You’ve got to get out of this, Neil.”
“But, how?”
“We’ll find some way,” she said. “You must know a lot about reading. Tell me some more.”
“There is a sourcebook, if you feel you need to know everything,” Neil murmured.
Katie shook her head at his remark. “This is serious, Neil. I can get you into trouble.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Keep going.” She liked the sudden confidence she had from realizing how capable she was and always had been, really.
“Two copies that I know of exist. Elvina has one.”
“Who wrote it?”
“All the front cover says is it’s by some kind of doctor.”
“She keeps it with her at all times?”
“She says she keeps it for her group, but she really keeps it for herself.”
“Maybe you could make a photocopy of it for me.”
“Already tried that. The copied pages came out blank.”
“And just what were you planning to do with them?”
Neil turned away from Katie. “Maybe I wanted to sell them for extra cash.”
“Neil, how could you?”
He peeked back at her. “I said maybe I wanted to.”
After a moment Katie said, “So … you’ve told me everything?”
Neil opened his mouth like he was going to speak then stopped.
“What is it?” Katie said. “What were you going to say just now?”
“It’s just that I’m sorry I took you into the barn with me.”
“Was that really what you were going to say?”
“It was. I feel bad that you know all this now. Trust me, life’s a lot better before you know you’re a Reader.”
Katie leaned on the table. “Neil?”
“Yep, Miss Katie?”
“I’m terrified.”
He stepped closer and put his hand on her shoulder. “Now I wish I had kept my mouth shut.”
“No, it’s better that I know. Neil?”
He patted her shoulder.
“I felt something while I was reading,” Katie said. “It was a really good feeling.”
“That’s the memory high. It’s why people read in the first place. What else gives you the power to re-experience your best moments through all five of your senses? My wife used to try to keep reading until she relived the first glimpse she had of our daughter right after she was born. But it can be risky to read a stranger.”
“Why?”
Neil held up his finger. “I was just about to get to that part. It can be risky because you never know how good a person a stranger is – how much bad energy they could hold. You’ll find that the reading high lasts anywhere from minutes to hours, depending on how pure the soul is. It’s not unheard of for an experienced Reader to read a child then get to relive half a life’s worth of their best moments – the first time your mother held you, your first taste of chocolate, your first kiss. Can you imagine what that feels like? I’d say there’s nothing like it.”
“You’ve re-experienced some of those things?”
Neil nodded.
“Can anyone see me doing it?” Katie asked.
“To the person reading, seconds seem like hours. And a non-Reader can’t see it being done unless they believe in it. All but a few non-Readers are non-believers.”
Katie peered around and glanced up at Neil. “I don’t know anyone who reads except for you and maybe Mrs Eastman.”
“It just so happens I know of a meeting going on at the church tomorrow afternoon that might interest you.” Neil glanced at the calendar on the fridge.
“The little white church you can see from the valley?”
“That’s the place. There isn’t anything sinister going on in there, so don’t you worry. This guy – he’s a good guy – holds a meeting for recovering and ex-Readers, like an AA meeting. In fact, that’s what the guy who runs it tells the church he’s hosting.”
“Anyone can attend?”
“As long as you’re a Reader. Meetings aren’t open to family members, unfortunately. We’ll hop in the van and head over there tomorrow.”
“What will we tell Julian?” Katie said.
Neil touched his chin. “I’ll think of something.”
Julian still wasn’t home. Should Katie start worrying that he was taking so long? She held her chin high, determined not to let the fear that had netted around her stomach weaken her earlier confidence.
“Remember when I said I haven’t read before?” she said to Neil. “I changed my mind. What happened in the barn brought it all back. I’ve done it before. Unintentionally. A long time ago. And I think I killed the boy I read.”
“Where did this happen?” Neil asked, taking a seat across from her.
“In a hospital.”
“He must have already been dying when you did it. I don’t think you really killed him.”
“You’re telling me the truth?”
“I’ve got no reason to lie to you.”
“I didn’t want to read. It just happened.”
“Some young Readers are mentored by a more experienced Reader. Sometimes a kid finds out they’re a Reader on their own. I guess you found out on your own.”
“I didn’t want to.”
“I’m sorry you had to live through that, Miss Katie. I truly am. That happens. Sometimes you read when you don’t want to.”
“In the barn, with Jacob, at first I got to live through a good memory, but then I went back to seeing the day of my brother’s disappearance. It was awful. How come the feeling went from good to bad – and why so quickly?” Katie asked.
“For the most part, only good moments come when reading, but occasionally a bad memory will appear. You can’t choose which moments you read. Sometimes you’ll get lucky and get the moment you wanted. Jacob’s older than a kid. The chance a bad moment will come is higher with an older person. They’ve lived through more and have done more than a child, so often aren’t as pure. I especially wouldn’t call Jacob a nice person. It can interfere and weave a bad memory into your good one.” Neil got up.
Katie rose and fixed her eyes on him. “Can we read other peoples’ memories?”
“No. Only our own.” Neil kept his eyes focused on hers.
“What about moments that haven’t happened yet. Can I see those?”
“Nope. Why?”
“I think I saw one. A hand put an amethyst into a vase filled with wine, or maybe it was blood mixed with water. I couldn’t tell.”
“Means good luck, I think.”
“It was someone else’s moment.”
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“That’s not how reading works. It was your moment. You must have just forgotten about it. It could’ve happened a long time ago, and you forgot about it and uncovered it tonight. Unless … Never mind.”
Katie raised her voice. “Tell me.”
“I’ve heard that some practiced Readers can send a message to another Reader through a moment. Mind you, I’ve never seen this myself,” Neil said.
“So someone’s telling me I’ll have good luck?”
“Or they’re telling you good luck, like people say to their opponent before a fight …”
Katie could tell he wanted to mention something else, and she let the silence drag out, waiting for him to talk. She listened to the refrigerator humming and the cuckoo clock ticking. She swilled what was left of the iced tea around in her glass.
“What did the hand look like?” Neil asked.
“A woman’s hand with smooth, pale skin. She had a silver ring with a black jewel on her finger.”
Neil glanced at the necklace on her throat. “I want to thank you,” he said abruptly. “Thank you for trying to read, Miss Katie, seeing how I’m destined to instruct one young Reader. I guess that was you.”
The revelation distracted her. “You kept that from me?”
“I figured you might not go through with it if you knew the truth. I’m sorry if you feel I tricked you.”
Katie opened her mouth to scold him. A car’s headlights reflected off the windowpanes. “Julian’s back.” She pointed at Neil. “I’m still not sure I trust you.”
“I’m sorry you don’t feel you can.” Neil walked to the side door to let Julian into the house.
Julian gave Katie a hug after he set the supplies on the counter, and after the evening she’d shared with Neil, she was grateful for it.
****
The next day Neil got ready to head out to visit his daughter and Katie told Julian she wanted to go with him. They got into the van and Neil drove through the town. Her seat had a tear in the upholstery and white stuffing coming out.
“We aren’t really going to see your daughter, are we?” Katie said.
Neil winked at her. “Nope. We’re going to the meeting at the church.”
“I thought that’s what you had planned.” She spotted a phone booth in front of an old-fashioned general store and asked Neil to stop. Katie hopped out of the van. “I’m ringing home,” she called back to him.
“Be quick,” he said.
Katie found some change in her pocket and her mother answered right away. “Hello?”
“Mum.”
“Katie! I’ve been going out of my mind with worry.”
“Everything’s okay. We went to Julian’s country house.”
“Where?”
“His country house. It’s in Heatherville.”
“I know where that town is, but …” Her mum paused. “For how long?”
“I’m not sure. Not much longer. A few days maybe.”
“How could you do this to us? You know how worried I get.”
Katie tasted something wet and salty on her lips, and it took her a moment to realise she was crying. “I’m really sorry, mum. You should know I’m okay. We both are okay.” She wiped her eyes. “How’s dad—”
Her mum cut her off. “I don’t want to hear how Julian is. I don’t care how he is. I care how you are. Where are you calling me from?”
Katie heard the sound of running water in the background. “The town.” Neil waved at her from the van. “I’ve got to go. Is dad at work? Say hi to him for me. I’ll call you guys again, and I’ll be back soon. I promise.” Her mother was still talking to her when she hung up.
Chapter Twenty
Neil had kept the van running in the cold air while Katie called home. White exhaust coughed out of the tailpipe.
“Everything okay?” he asked as she stepped back in.
“Yeah,” Katie said. “I think so.”
They rode farther into the town and Neil pulled into the church’s crowded parking lot. It took him a few minutes to find a parking spot at the back. The afternoon was still bright, and they walked up a stone pathway to the small white church. Katie followed Neil into the community room.
People were seated on fold-out chairs in a circle, with a thin, sandy-haired man with a tan face clearly the leader of the group. Styrofoam cups were stacked next to a coffee urn with a plate of frosted cookies on a card table at the other side of the room. Everyone had a Mark on their temple and turned to stare at Neil and Katie entering through the back door.
Katie found two empty seats for them. Neil waved to a raven-haired woman he seemed to know. From the way the pretty woman greeted Neil, it was clear she had feelings for him, and it was also clear he had no idea how she felt.
The leader nodded at Katie and Neil and began the meeting by introducing himself as Landon. He asked that each person introduce himself by their first name only before they spoke because it was important that each person remain anonymous. He mentioned the gathering was free-form, with the only rules being you couldn’t interrupt someone while they were talking and you couldn’t ask someone questions after they were done speaking.
Matt, a pleasantly chubby man, raised his hand. Landon nodded at Matt and he was the first to share his story. “I first found out I was a Reader when I was a kid, from a family friend who was also one. He took me under his wing. At first I thought it meant I was some kind of deity. Then I found out our only skills are that we’re able to read and get the memory high. Some skills, right? Feeding off someone. How sick is that? We’re all freaks here. Sick freaks—”
Landon cut him off. “You can speak freely here, but I have to say something to the entire group. Please don’t demean yourselves or anyone else.” He eyeballed Matt. Landon turned back to the group. “We’re all at some stage of recovery, and we can try to understand our mistakes, but we can’t erase who we are. And, remember, it’s a good idea to stand up so the group can hear you while you’re speaking.”
Matt leaned back, crossed his arms and didn’t resume his story. Katie sensed Landon wouldn’t push him to finish because that’s how the group seemed to work.
Neil’s dark-haired beauty stood and told everyone she was Tracy. “I’m not going to lie. Sometimes I miss it. But I used to hate how it could get pretty cliquey. You can have the Mark but not have read, and some Readers will laugh if you call yourself a Reader because they don’t consider you a Reader until you’ve read at least once. I bought a police radio so I could find out about emergencies in real time. I followed news vans and ambulances around in my car. I read like that – alone – for years. Then I joined a Reading club. Sure, I didn’t get as much of the high that way because I was sharing it. But at the time I felt so alone then being in their club, suddenly I wasn’t.” Tracy glanced at Katie’s necklace and stopped speaking. Her face went pale, and she sat down.
“Years ago my wife was experiencing reading withdrawal and needed a quick recharge.” The voice came from a quiet, stooped elderly man. He had some difficulty standing up. “She read me. And I’m fairly sure I don’t have to tell all of you where she ended up.”
Most of the group had knowing looks on their faces. The old man started weeping and someone passed him a tissue. He wiped his eyes, took off his cap and fixed his hair. Katie noticed he was missing a few of his front teeth.
A young man named Tim sobbed when he told the group how his parents, both Readers like him, had read his little sister, who wasn’t a Reader. “My folks got me started really young. Rebecca was eleven when we read her. I was twelve. My parents wanted to see if the rumour was true.”
“Was it?” Matt said.
Landon appeared as though he wanted to sever him in half.
“I don’t know. My folks wouldn’t talk about it after,” Tim said softly.
“That’s enough,” Landon said to Matt. “Please go on, Tim.”
Tim sniffled. “I let it happen. I’m to blame. She was already so frail. I knew it was
wrong. I hate myself more and more each day.” He sobbed and Landon got up and hugged him.
When it was over, most of the group left without having refreshments and socializing, and after everything Katie had heard, she really didn’t feel like talking to anyone, but Neil quickly presented her to Landon.
He shook her hand and welcomed her to the group. “That’s quite a beautiful necklace,” Landon said, staring at her throat. “I hope we’ll see you again soon.”
Katie didn’t tell him that after what she’d heard and seen, she probably would never return.
“What did you think of the meeting?” Neil asked her out in the parking lot.
“I’m not sure yet.”
“You didn’t like it?”
“No, I’m just not sure if I feel better now or worse. It wasn’t exactly an uplifting experience.”
“They can be a depressing group sometimes, but overall they’re good people.”
“What’s the rumour that guy Tim was talking about?” Katie asked.
“You really want to know?”
She nodded.
Neil cracked his knuckles. “Reading a young relative brings out the most satisfying memories, and the younger and closer to your bloodline they are, the more likely it is to happen. And especially – get this – if you read a girl. So they say. I bet it must tempt some people.”
“How?”
“The more someone reads, the less it works. That’s why somebody who’s been reading for a long time has to read more and more. Of course, the rumour is a rumour.”
“Do you come here a lot?”
“Now that I live in the area, almost every week. In fact, I was here the night you two arrived.”
“What about before you lived here?” Katie asked.
Neil answered as they got into the van. “Before? Before, I was alone.”
****
The next morning Katie counted crows through the living room’s big window in her pyjamas and listened to their cawing while she waited for the coffee to brew. One crow meant sorrow. Two crows meant joy. Two cawed, but then in the clear blue sky, a flock passed, leaving behind numerous cackles – a murder of crows, a bad sign.
Katie glanced toward the garden and screamed. Neil was clipping away the roses that remained in what was left of the snow.