by T. J. Jones
"Travis? Are you going to tell me you're one of those bible thumpers that thinks I should go straight to hell for being queer? Please, don't even go there."
"No, I'm not one of those people, God made you and he doesn't screw up." He looked down at his plate, searching for words. She reached out to grab his hand. "It's just that, no matter what you said, I always had this idea in my head that eventually I could win you over, you know? Like at the end of a stupid rom com movie, where all of a sudden, you realize it was me all along. Life just doesn't work that way, does it?" She shook her head and squeezed his hand slightly. "So, no chance?"
"Sorry Chester, fate has other plans for me." He smiled and she smiled back.
"Fates a bitch, isn't that what you always say?"
*****
The dreams stopped again, for weeks this time. Even Greg and the damn cat disappeared from her sleep. Callie still wondered about Danielle, and their strange meeting. She knew the voices in her head had been real. Suddenly deciding to drive to the city that day, and subsequently meeting Danielle, was not a coincidence. If the voices in her head were real, then maybe the things in her dreams were too. Callie liked to think she was a logical person. She didn't believe in some guy in the sky, or that there was a plan for everybody. You were born, and if you were smart and lucky, good shit happened. If you weren't lucky, some Army Ranger popped you in the head with a tire iron. That's made sense to her. But how did that explain what was happening to her? How could she know the fate of some Afghan woman, raped and murdered in the heat of the desert? None of the things she knew, or thought she knew, were explainable. And why her, why of all the people in the world, had she been singled out for this wretched curse? Was it a curse? So far it seemed like it.
Chapter 12
Just past the middle of August, as she was getting ready for bed, Callie's phone rang. Mrs. Mconvil was calling from her land line. She said that Jenny had insisted she call her. The ambulance had just left with Jenny, and they were on their way to the hospital. Callie threw her clothes back on and rushed down to the living room, where her parents were still watching television. She asked her mother to pick up Jenny's Mom, then jumped in her car and drove to the hospital.
Jenny was in the delivery room and no one was allowed in, no exceptions. Callie knew that it was too early in the pregnancy, but not impossibly so. Still, every fiber of her being screamed that this was what her dream had been telling her, that Jenny or the baby, or both were in danger and might die. She sat waiting for her parents and Jenny's mother. Was this supposed to be her retribution? What God or miserable cruel fate would take Jenny away like this? Jenny, more than anyone in this mess was innocent. How could sweet, happy, loving Jenny, be made to pay for what Callie had done? When she closed her eyes, she imagined Greg, pointing his finger at her, laughing as hard as he could.
They sat through the night, the only mother Jenny had known for the last dozen years, Callie's mother, and Callie, all waiting for some news. By four in the morning, the baby had been delivered. The good news was that they were both alive, but it was a perilous thing. Jenny had lost a lot of blood, and the baby showed signs of major difficulty. They waited the rest of the night and into the next afternoon. Callie refused to leave the hospital until Doctor Nelson assured her that Jenny was going to be alright, that she had been given blood, and that she was out of danger. But she needed a lot of rest, and he wouldn't let Callie see her. They airlifted little Greg to Children's Hospital in the Cities, the only hospital with a chance of saving him. Callie went home and took three of her Ambien, she had no desire to see Greg Johnson, dancing through her dreams.
As soon as it was safe for her to travel, Callie took Jenny to see her son. She wanted to hold him at least one time. His brain damage was too extensive, and Gregory Richard Mconvil passed away four days after his birth, his tiny body unable to continue to fight. It seemed that Jenny had excepted the inevitable by then, but it broke Callie to watch her mourn, the grief for her friend mixed with guilt. She sat beside Jenny and held her during the funeral and held her up as they put the tiny casket in the ground at the Johnson's family plot. She spent a few days at Jenny's house, cooking, cleaning and trying to be there for her friend, but Jenny finally chased her away.
"He's with his Daddy, Callie. I don't know why, but he's with God now. We have to get on with our lives, somehow. We have another week, then you have to go to school. I'll be alright Callie. Come over tonight, my Mom will make us supper."
"Should I plan on staying tonight?"
"I have to figure out how to go on Callie. But I can't depend on you all the time. We both just have to keep going. You need to follow your plan, and go to school. I love you, you know that, but I need to be okay without you holding my hand all the time."
"So, what you're saying is that you're getting sick of me." It was the first time in a week that they had laughed.
The next morning, Callie got in her Camry and drove to the Walmart. She walked through the garden section until she found a bouquet of flowers the proper color. They were more lavender than blue and Callie wasn't sure what kind they were, but they seemed close enough. She drove out to the cemetery and walked to the all too familiar Johnson plot. She knelt down and split the flowers up equally between Greg and his son. She stayed kneeling, looking at the tiny stone of Jenny's baby, sobbing until she had no breath left. Then she shifted over to Greg's stone, brushing away some leaves that had fallen early. She wiped her eyes and looked down, talking directly to the stone.
"Greg, I know you didn't like me, and I sure as hell didn't like you. Who knows, you may have turned out to be a good man. I didn't mean to take that chance away from you. I'm sorry for what happened, I didn't mean for it to turn out like this. I'm a piece of shit Greg, and you can haunt me for the rest of my miserable life, I know I deserve that. But please, please, leave her alone, Greg. Let her try to be happy, she is so good, she deserves that." She sat there crying and cursing whatever force or fate had gotten her to this point. After half an hour, she stood up, rearranged the flowers on the baby's grave, then started stumbling back to her car.
She felt them probing again, the voices in her head, the collection of minds pushing their way into her thoughts. She stopped in her tracks, digging her finger nails into her palms and squeezing her fists. Furious, she leaned her head back, the blue draining slowly from her eyes. "Get the fuck out!" She screamed. She stopped and looked around to be sure no one had witnessed her outburst, then walked slowly to her car. She felt suddenly peaceful, smiling as she put the Camry in gear. The voices in her head were gone, and she knew she had banished them, at least temporarily. She smiled and made a promise.
"Someday you bitches are going to be sorry you messed with Callie Fisher."
Callie's Gift/Callie's Curse
Chapter 13
Callie glared across the small room at her new roommate. She hated the idea of sharing a room with someone she didn't know, but the double room had saved her Dad a considerable amount of money. Her parents thought it was a good idea that she tried to be more social, but for Callie, "social" had a slightly different connotation. This was college, the place was full of women of all shapes, sizes, and colors. Callie was sure that at least a few of them must share her attraction for the same sex. Bringing a girl back to the shared room would be awkward when the total dimensions of the space were only slightly larger than Callie's Camry. Even more so because her roommate was a born again Christian.
Daphne, the girl that Callie had been forced into cohabitation with, had adorned her space with posters of Jesus and the Virgin Mary. Several crosses hung at various heights, suspended from the stick pins that held the posters in place. Since Callie hadn't put anything on her portion of the wall, Daphne covered her space as well. That invasion didn't concern Callie much, but the continual gospel music drove her over the edge. She finally offered to throw Daphne's I-pod out of the window. The girl hadn't talked to her since, but she did start using earbuds. Now she just
sang along to all the damn hymns, which was nearly as bad. Callie had been at school for ten days, and it felt like three months. It wasn't all about Daphne and her taste in music, Callie was homesick. She didn't want to admit, even to herself, that she missed her parents and the God forsaken little town that she had spent eighteen years trying to escape. She missed Jenny, and wondered how Abby was doing. She had a picture in her mind, that someday they would bump into each other on the street. Abby would be happy and in love with some other woman and would thank Callie for making her see that she didn't belong with Davis Cooper. It wasn't one of her lucid dreams, and Callie doubted that it would ever be a reality, but it was a nice fantasy. It would be wonderful if something good came from the fiasco Callie had started in motion. Thinking about Abby made her feel worse, and she got up from her bed, ignoring Daphne, when she looked at her curiously. She left her room and walked down the hall of the dorm and out into the cool air of the Minnesota twilight.
It was times like this that Callie wished she smoked. It was forbidden on the campus, but she constantly saw people standing in corners, enjoying a puff. She had another craving at the moment, and she pulled out her cellphone. "Hi Jenny, what are you doing?"
"Sitting here missing my best friend, that's what. I started my job at Walmart today. I think even I can handle working there."
"Watch out for those horny Greeters, I've heard some stories."
"They're all banging each other. I think I'm safe. A lady came in with a newborn, and that was hard. I know it will take some time, but I don't want to forget about him either."
"And you shouldn't. I wish I could be there, I hate it here."
"Is your roommate talking to you yet?"
"No, and that's just fine by me. I keep trying to be tolerant, but she's a whack job. Your religious Jen, but you don't walk around with a banner and sing gospel songs like your fucking Joel Osteen all the time. I wish I would have talked to her before I got here, like you're supposed to do. I would have asked for a Buddhist or another aethist, or any religion where they take a vow of silence. She's driving me nuts."
"Callie, we talked about this, you need to make an effort to like people."
"I hate everybody except you and Chester. I can put up with my parents, but barely."
"Any cute girls around?"
"No. Jealous?"
"Kind of, but mostly I just miss my best friend. It's going to be a while before I ever think about being with someone, man or not, even someone as great as you. You could find a nice girl down there Callie, you just have to try a little."
"Yeah, maybe so. I'm coming home this weekend. I parked my car at my uncles, so I have to ride the transit up, then walk to his place. And Friday night traffic is a pain in the ass. Want to hang out and see a movie or something?"
"Sure. You know, coming home every weekend isn't going to make you less homesick."
"I stayed down after orientation, right? I'll start hanging around down here more, but I want to get the hell away from Daphne. So far, I'm not running the place like you said I would be. I'm lucky to find my classes."
"You can come over and we can cuddle on the couch and watch movies."
"Now you're talking." Callie smiled into her phone.
"Just friendly cuddling, you horn dog." Jenny laughed at her. They talked for another ten minutes, then Callie went back inside. She felt better. Now that Jenny knew she was gay, Callie didn't have to always be on guard when she talked to her. The teasing was part of that. She walked back to her room, and realized that Daphne had taken her earbuds out and was singing loudly to a song about forgiveness. She threw herself on the bed and opened her Lit book. After half an hour of the noise, Callie couldn't take it. She got up and walked to the posters Daphne had pinned to Callie's side of the room, ripped them down, tore them slowly into small pieces, and then tossed the debris onto Daphne's bed. The girl just looked at her, eyes wide. By Friday afternoon, when Callie threw a bag together for the drive home, the rest of the posters, and her roommate were gone. An email confirmed that Callie would be reassigned, and that her actions were not in line with school policy. She didn't know for sure what that meant, she almost hoped she'd get expelled. Anything would be better than listening to Daphne croon about Jesus.
By the time Callie got her car and started the drive home, it was getting dark. There wasn't much to do, but drive and think. She tried to push thoughts of Abby from her mind. She wished things hadn't gotten so ugly, and that she hadn't threatened her. At the time, it seemed necessary. Maybe someday, when she figured all this shit out, she could apologize. She knew Davis deserved to be where he was, she was sure of her dream. But was it Greg's destiny to take a tire iron to the head? Was it his fate, or was it just because she wanted to keep sleeping with Abby? Was it just a selfish act that twisted fate around? Callie shook herself, destiny my ass! She turned the radio on and distracted herself for a while.
But, she couldn't stop wondering. What had become of the voices in her head? Had she really pushed them out for good? She had called them voices, but that wasn't accurate. There were no words, just impressions that floated through her mind, of vague events that she couldn't quite recognize. Maybe, she thought suddenly, these voices were the authors of her dreams. Callie had a sense of what they were, and she knew they were like her, or she like them. They seemed feminine to her. Their voices had been a whisper when they had sent her to find Danelle, a gentle urging, like the soft voice of a young girl. Nothing about this seemed possible, yet enough had happened to convince her that it was real. If being gay was a hard thing to tell her parents, how the hell could she tell them this? "Mom, Dad, besides the fact that I'm gay, I dream shit that comes true in the future. No big deal, just thought you should know I'm some kind of freak." That wasn't going to happen. Her mother would have her back to the shrink the same day. She couldn't remember for sure if the eyes that she had seen as a child, were the same ones that haunted her now, but it seemed logical. She laughed aloud, logical? She was considering the possibility that she had some sort of psychic abilities, that was nuts! And she made fun of Jenny's voodoo? This was just as crazy.
But the probing and the voices had stopped. She was almost sure that she had pushed them away that day at the graveyard. Did that mean she could let them back in? She had to talk to somebody about it and Danielle seemed like the most obvious person. Callie wasn't sure what connection the woman had to her, or to the little group, but it was there. Perhaps she was like Callie and had dreams. And if not, why had this group of spirits, or witches, or whatever the hell they were, why had they sent her to Danielle? Since orientation ten days ago Callie had looked for the tall woman again, without success. Danielle was the key, she would be able to tell her what the hell all this was about. She decided when she got back to school she would spend every free minute at that lunch stand until the woman made an appearance again.
By the time she pulled into her parent's driveway, the house was dark. She thought she would fall asleep the minute she climbed into her own bed, but the moon cast its soft light into her window, and she lay staring at her easel and paints. She finally got up and started painting, just shapes and colors, with no intent to create anything specific. By three in the morning she yawned and looked at what she had made. It was a vague picture of two women, one tall, one not, one dark, one blond. She wasn't even sure if she intended it to be her and Danielle. The pair were holding hands and the taller woman was pulling the blonde as they struggled through waist deep water, straining to reach the shore. On the windswept beach, a dozen hands stretched out toward them, offering assistance. The hands extended from a group of formless, faceless figures. Callie frowned at the painting. Had she really pushed them out, or were they calling to her?
Callie spent a lazy Saturday, reading a little for school and talking with her mother. She sugarcoated the incident with Daphne, but her mother saw right through it.
"Callie, your actions have consequences. You really need to take a breath and think
before you do things." Callie smiled sadly, staring down at the textbook she held on her lap for a few moments. Then she picked her head up and smiled.
"Your preaching to the choir Mom, but if Daphne hadn't moved out, one of us would have been sorry."
"Yeah? So, what happens now with your room?"
"New roommate I guess. She'll probably be worse. Karma."
Callie spent the evening watching television and eating popcorn with Jenny. She seemed subdued and became tearful when a diaper commercial came on. Callie did her best to cheer her up. She wasn't sure if the slight shift in their relationship was her imagination or just the fact that Jenny had been through so much.
"Jenny, are you going to take some classes? You keep telling me to get out and meet people, you should too. Is it too early? I don't mean to push you, you know that."
"I probably will, maybe this winter. Some guy asked me out at the store already. I mean it's nice, that somebody would ask, but I'm not ready for that."
"I never should have told you, about how I feel I mean. I had to tell you I'm gay, I just couldn't keep lying to you about everything. But you have enough shit to deal with, I didn't mean to pile on about my girly crush too." Jenny giggled, her old self for a few moments.
"No worries Cal, who doesn't want her best friend lusting after her?"
"Don't get a big head, I might just find some hottie at school." Jenny suddenly became very serious, looking at Callie awkwardly.
"I hope you do Cal, really. I'm probably going to end up married to some stupid plowboy, and help him milk cows, while you get all rich and famous."
"You can come visit me in my mansion, but no Plowboys allowed." Callie laughed.
"I'm bringing my three snot nosed kids, so they can track cow shit all over your white carpet." Her own words hit Jenny suddenly and she leaned against Callie, weeping softly. She stopped herself quickly, wiped her eyes and smiled. "The thing is Callie, is that's exactly what I want, just some ordinary life and a couple of kids to chase around the house."