by Spear, Terry
He sensed weariness and a different kind of anxiety in Emily’s voice. Now what? “Yeah?”
“Well, two things really. Uhm, the first is I had a little talk with the pirate who pushed Granny off the boat. At least, I think he’s the one. He wouldn’t admit it when I asked.”
Michael couldn’t help the tension tightening every muscle in his body. Not only did it bother him a ghost could have hurt his grandmother, but the notion Emily was facing him alone…
“Together, Emily.”
She took an exasperated breath. “I saw him in my dreams. Well, rather, spoke to him. I never did see him, and I didn’t go to him, willingly. It just happened.”
“And?”
“Roberta told him I was coming to haunt him next.”
Michael groaned. “And you helped her out?” He shook his head.
“It’s okay. The pirate liked me. We have to help him get back to his treasure, or at least the treasure he remembers. I think once he’s with his men, the whole lot of them will be able to leave our world.”
“You think.”
“It’s not an exact science. Far from it. Sometimes, like with anything else in life, a person has to take chances, experiment a little. Anyway, I was thinking, what if we sailed your boat through the canal and out to the river while he’s aboard? Then maybe we could get close enough to the treasure, and he’d join his men. His crew can’t leave our world until they have their captain back. I think.”
“His men? You’ve seen them, too?”
“Heard them. A rowdy bunch, drunk. They’re hanging around where they think the treasure is.”
“I thought you said you saw it in your dreams.”
“Roberta put it there.”
“What?”
“She put the thought in my mind. She was terrorizing the pirates with mind games, showing them their treasure, then making the image disappear.”
He snorted. “I thought she was a good ghost.”
“Vengeful with respect to the pirates. She was of Spanish descent. Captain Roberts killed her ancestor and looted his ship. I think all in all she was a good person, but…”
“I think Granny should sell the boat.”
“I’m not sure that will solve the problem. What if he hangs around her backyard? What if he’s really angry with her if he doesn’t have ‘his’ boat any longer? And there’s something else.”
Wondering what other ghosts harassed her, he gripped the steering wheel tighter. “Go ahead and tell me.”
“Well, Captain Roberts told me how his father was killed, his mother died young, and he lost the lady he loved. And…”
Michael couldn’t believe it. Emily should be a ghost psychologist when she grew up.
“…then he mentioned how he could kiss me better than you…”
He shot a glance at her. “Kiss you? He couldn’t, could he?”
“I don’t think so. I don’t know.”
“How does he know about me?”
“Uhm, well, he doesn’t really know about you, but when he mentioned landlubbers kissing me, you were the one that came to mind. Because he had lost his family and became the ward of the pirate captain, I suddenly had the notion you might be terribly upset that, well, that you had to live with your grandmother and not your parents. And we’d never talked about it. But if you ever want to…”
“Oh.” He swallowed hard, not really wanting to mention anything about them, but since Emily had brought it up, might as well get it out in the open. “Granny is my dad’s mother. He was always ashamed she could read minds and control them. Anyway, then it turned out I had abilities, too, different, but…well, I wasn’t nice and normal like my mother and father.” He sighed heavily. “I didn’t have a really great home life is what I guess I’m trying to say. My parents weren’t understanding like yours are. Living with my grandmother is the best thing that could have ever happened to me. Well, and meeting you.”
Emily quickly wiped away a tear.
“Emily?”
“I’m…I’m fine. It’s just…” She sniffled. “You’re so sweet.”
He smiled and kissed her cheek. “I’m glad you think so, but, I can be a bear, too. If that pirate thinks he can kiss my girl and get away with it…”
She chuckled. “You’ll take care of him, eh?”
Yeah. But for now he had to ensure he kept Emily safe at school. Taking care of the pirate ghost was his next priority.
* * *
As soon as they took their seats in technology, Michael knew the day was going to drag on forever.
Emily kept glancing at the doorway as if she expected any minute she’d catch sight of Armando. Michael sat at the edge of his chair, ready to catch her wrist if she bolted for the door. She glanced over at him and raised a brow. A devilish gleam lurked in her darkened green eyes.
Trying to reduce the tension in his muscles, he stretched his shoulders back. He might not be able to read her thoughts, but he didn’t need to in order to know what was on her mind.
The hour passed painfully slow. But at least he had life science next with Emily and could watch out for her there also. The hour following that class worried him though.
In the next hour, nothing happened, although Emily fingered Roberta’s cross nearly the whole time. Was that the key? Armando wouldn’t come for her because she had something that would keep her safe? Something he recognized that belonged to the girl he had loved?
Or was there some other reason Armando was leaving Emily alone?
After class, Michael hesitated to leave her at English literature. As they suspected, Red never showed up for class, and they saw no sign of either of the other boys. At least she’d be safe for the time being. But he couldn’t help worry about leaving her to face Armando alone in her next class.
“Are you still feeling cold?” Michael asked, rubbing Emily’s arms while they stood outside her classroom.
She nodded. “Yeah. I know he’s here and close by. I feel it in my blood. Like my temperature has dropped several degrees.”
Michael held his hand to her forehead.
“Your hand feels hot against my skin.” Her teeth chattered. Not a good sign.
“You’re not feverish, but your skin is cold.”
Her breath began to show in the air as if she’d taken up smoking. Michael grabbed her hand and hurried her to the exit door.
“Michael, my class. The bell will ring any…” She quit speaking when it rang.
“He’s after you, Emily. Your lips are turning blue.” Michael pulled her outside into the balmy heat, not about to let her turn into a frozen popsicle again.
“And we’re skipping class.”
“Yeah, well, your dad told me to keep you safe.” He glanced at his watch. “A little early for lunch, but we can go someplace and get a late breakfast.”
“I can’t believe we’re leaving school without permission.”
“Only for an hour. I won’t have Armando putting you into an icy coma like he tried to do last time. It’s lunch hour after this, then we have class together. If he tries to chill you again, I’m taking you home with me.”
He hurried her to his car and the sultry heat began to thaw her out. Her lips turned rosy once more.
“I’ve never skipped classes before,” she mumbled under her breath.
“Your parents and my grandmother will make sure we have an absentee slip. If we can safely go to classes the rest of the afternoon, we’ll do it. But I’m staying with you the rest of the day.”
“Our teachers are going to think we’re really weird.”
“Doesn’t matter. All that’s important is we get rid of Armando before he hurts you again.”
Michael drove to the Lone Star Café and parked. Out front, a wagon wheel sat in a landscape of cactus and gravel. Because of the early hour, they had no trouble getting a booth.
“Is school out today?” the waitress asked when she showed them to their seats.
Michael was trying to come up with a
good excuse when a vision appeared in his mind’s eye. The black car, customized with shooting flames, prowled the area for them. Whatever difficulty the bullies caused for Emily and him next was bad enough to warrant his calling the police.
Chapter 17
Emily’s cheeks flushed when the waitress asked if school was out.
“We homeschool,” Michael improvised, trying to get a better visual on the bullies. What would they do that would cause him to call the police?
“Oh, how wonderful,” the waitress said. “My brother homeschools his two kids. And my neighbor does, too.” The dark-haired woman shoved a pencil into her order pad. “Be right back.”
“We homeschool?” Emily asked, brows arched.
Michael shrugged. “Thought you’d be less embarrassed if I said that, than we’re skipping school.” He ran his hand over hers. She didn’t feel as cold to him, and he took a relieved breath. “Are you feeling better?”
“Much, thanks. I didn’t realize how fast Armando affected me.”
“I wonder if it’s like someone who has heat exhaustion or hypothermia, and then is more susceptible afterward.” Michael flipped through his menu to the breakfast pages. “Although, I believe he wanted to control you. Make you lose your ability to think by chilling you maybe even more quickly than he did before.”
“Good thing you were with me.” She sat back in her seat, and her face grew serious. “Michael, have you ever had a premonition of something bad, but you couldn’t stop it?”
Too inquisitive for her own good…that was Emily. He averted his eyes, studying the menu. A dark shadow settled in his soul, the memory of Susie’s death hitting him like a reoccurring nightmare all at once.
“Michael,” Emily said softly, and folded her menu.
She looked troubled. He set his menu aside and was relieved when the waitress interrupted them to take their orders.
When the waitress left, Emily cleared her throat. “I have to tell you something…something I’ve never told anyone else, not even my parents.”
Whatever she had to tell had to hurt, and his admiration for her doubled. No matter what she faced, she always seemed to have the strength to deal with it head on. Even if she couldn’t manage, she made the attempt. But once she was done exposing her deep, dark secrets, his turn was next. Could he be as strong as she was?
Now, however, her eyes focused on the paper napkin she mauled between her fingers. She finally looked up at him, as if ready to bare her soul. “I’ve never told anyone,” she reiterated, as if to show how terrible the deed was and how hard it was for her to reveal it, “but I couldn’t save someone.” She looked back down at the napkin she destroyed in her nervousness, then shifted her gaze back to him. “Twice.”
He gritted his teeth, feeling the pain all over again. Had Granny told her he failed to save Susie, too? Or did Emily guess? His mind sifted through the things he spoke of to her when they first met. He told her how he’d had difficulties dealing with his abilities. It must have been bugging her. Curious like a cat. A puzzle solver. She might not be a genius, but when it came to solving riddles, she came close.
“I read a fifteen-year-old boy’s mind once,” she began, and the way she spoke, he could sense the pain. “He was tormented with the knowledge his mother, whom he dearly loved, was dying of cancer. His father was an abusive alcoholic and abandoned them some years earlier. Jimmy had no other family to take him in. He was two years older than me, but had been held back in school. He didn’t or couldn’t concentrate on schoolwork, got into fights, then finally slipped into a world of his own.” She took an exasperated breath.
Michael wanted to help her get over the anguish she must feel, but didn’t know what to say.
The waitress returned with glasses of water. “Food will be right up.” She scurried away.
Emily looked back at the table, at the shredded pieces of napkin, then shoved them into a pile. He handed his napkin to her, and she offered a wan smile.
But then her features turned dark again. “He felt he had nothing to live for. I…I read his mind, hoping I could understand him better, hoping I could help him to cope. In the end, I couldn’t. He took an overdose of his mother’s pain medicine, and…” Emily wiped away the tears running down her cheeks. “Three months later, his mother passed away.”
“Emily, you never told your parents? Surely they could have helped—”
“I didn’t want them to know I read his mind.” She smoothed out his napkin against the dark wood tabletop. “You can’t know how awful it is to see where a person is headed and not be able to save him.”
“I know, Emily.” His words were filled with regret, and he was certain she already assumed he did know how it felt. “You probably suspect that’s the main reason I live with my grandmother.”
She nodded. “You don’t have to tell me about it. I just wanted you to know I’ve been there. And if you ever felt the need to talk, I’m a good listener.”
Trusting her implicitly, he nodded. “A girl I was dating died when she failed to yield to a train. I saw it happen. There wasn’t any way I could stop it.”
“And you blamed yourself like I blamed myself. Just because we have these abilities, doesn’t mean we’re perfect. We have limits.”
“If Susie hadn’t been on the phone when she was driving the car, first day out with her brand new driver’s license…” Michael could still envision the train crashing into her blue Ford Taurus, dragging it down the tracks several hundred yards, the metal grinding, sparks flying, the brakes screeching, finally grating to a halt. Dead.
“She had died, the police said, because she’d been concentrating on her phone conversation with a girlfriend, instead of watching the train tracks ahead. The warning lights were flashing, witnesses said, but the crossing had no gates.” He sat back against his booth.
“The next day I learned Susie’s conversation had been about what a wonderful guy I was. I…well, I couldn’t deal with it. The rest of the school year, I was barely able to concentrate. Finally, my parents couldn’t stomach my moping at home any longer and packed me off to live with my grandmother. My parents couldn’t stand how devastated I was. They thought a change of scenery might help. A new school. New friends.” He took a sip of water to relieve his suddenly very dry throat. “I didn’t believe it would, until I met you. I knew someone was really trying to shake me up then.”
She looked at him, her eyes questioning.
“Since I met you, I’ve barely had time for self-pity.”
“I’m…I’m sorry about your girlfriend. I know how hard that must have been.”
He didn’t want to talk about it anymore, though he was glad to share his hurt with Emily. Knowing someone else suffered from the same grief helped. He thought about what she said, that there were two incidents in her life. Not sure whether to let it go, or ask her…
The waitress brought their meals. After making sure they didn’t need anything else, she said, “Enjoy,” and hurried off.
“The other was a restless spirit,” Emily said, before Michael could ask. She closed her eyes as if envisioning the scene. “I tried to learn what would appease him, a man in his thirties who haunted the woods near my home in Oregon. He was dressed like a pioneer, probably one of the early settlers in the Oregon Territory.” She looked up at Michael. “Angered that he had died from the fever, leaving his young, beautiful wife behind, he remained on the land. In those days, men outnumbered women in droves. Soon, a man married his wife, infuriating Elijah. He wanted me to destroy every one of her descendants.” Emily lifted her grilled cheese sandwich. “Of course, I couldn’t do that. I felt horrible that I couldn’t help him find peace though.
“First, I couldn’t save a living person, then I failed to help a lost soul. I felt my abilities were nothing more than a horrible curse.”
“That’s how I felt.” Michael sliced off a piece of steak.
“You know we can’t feel that way. It’ll eat us up inside.”
&nbs
p; Suddenly, he wondered if there was more to her wanting to know about his past. “Are you trying to tell me—”
“I’m trying to say we can only do our best. As long as we do that… Well, we’ve got to give it our all. Less than that isn’t good enough. More…probably impossible. We can only do so much and then…”
“…it’s out of our hands.” Michael scooped up some of his eggs.
“Yes.”
Just like their current dilemma. Was she concerned she might not survive, and he’d blame himself again? He would, just like if something happened to him, he was certain she’d feel responsible.
“Don’t you agree?” Her brow wrinkled with concern.
“To an extent. But if I were to lose you…”
She reached out, took his hand, and kissed it. “I don’t plan on getting lost.”
The premonition that the kid with the black car was cruising by the restaurant hit him with a vengeance. Michael stiffened his back and concentrated on the movie reel playing in his head. His stomach muscles tightened into knots.
“What’s wrong, Michael?”
“Shhh,” he said softly, trying to keep the car under surveillance in his mind. “Jeez. What luck.”
“What?”
“The black car painted with flames just pulled into the parking lot.”
“Great.”
“They won’t try anything here.” At least, he hoped they wouldn’t.
Then Michael envisioned the boy, named Daniel, pull out a knife. The ten-inch blade shimmered in the sun. The four boys walked toward Michael’s car.
Clenching his teeth, he watched the vision, dying to stop them, but not wanting Emily to get involved. If he rushed out of the restaurant to confront the bullies, he knew there was no way in hell she would stay safely inside. Plus, approaching a knife-wielding teen wasn’t a safe bet either.
“What’s the matter?” Emily asked again.
He ignored her while he concentrated on the vision. Daniel leaned over and sliced Michael’s tires, one after another.
Michael pulled out his cell phone. Though he hadn’t seen them in the conventional way, if the police found Daniel with the knife it would verify Michael’s claim that he saw Daniel do it.