Vision of Shadows

by Vincent Morrone

  “You want to know what I’m scared about?” Payne asked. “You, Bristol! I’m scared of losing you. I’m terrified that something is going to happen to you. Do you not understand that? I’ve lost too many people that matter to me. I’m not going to lose you as well. And I’m sorry if I handled this badly, but maybe if you weren’t so damn stubborn yourself, we wouldn’t be arguing.”

  “Hey,” I said, much more softly. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine. We’ll figure it out, okay? Together.”

  Payne closed his eyes and nodded. I placed my hand on his chest and felt his heart beat like thunder. When he opened his eyes, the storm was over. Slowly, he leaned in and kissed me in a way that was both gentle and strong.

  “I’m so happy he found you,” ghost lady said. “You’re just what he needs. Unfortunately, I have to go now. I wish I didn’t, but I do. Tell Payne I love him, and he shouldn’t blame himself. I hope I can come see him again with you. Be good to my baby.”

  As her last words penetrated, I pushed Payne away from me and reached out to the ghost. “No, wait!” But it was too late. “Damn, she’s gone! I can’t believe this. Oh Payne, I’m so sorry, but she’s gone.”

  Payne shrugged. “Okay, she’s gone. Is that a problem? Is she someone you knew?”

  “No.” I looked at Payne, feeling my heart break for him. I desperately wished I hadn’t just squandered an opportunity to help him reconnect with his mother. I felt like I was faced with a young child who was about to realize there’s no Santa because I forgot to put any presents under the tree. “But I think you did. Payne, I think it was your mother.”

  Payne looked stunned beyond belief. His face was that of the same lost and lonely little boy I’d seen in my dreams for years.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Having A Blast At Aunt Breanne’s

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. “If I’d known it was her… oh, Payne, I would have stopped that stupid fight and talked to her for you. I can’t believe…”

  “It’s okay. It’s all right.” Payne shushed me. “That fight was just as much my fault as it was yours. But she came to you for me. She saw I was out of line, and she came to you for me, didn’t she?”

  He looked into my eyes, and I nodded. I forced a smile.

  Payne stepped back and dug into his back pocket. Pulling out his wallet, he fumbled out a picture.

  “Yeah, that was her,” I confirmed. “But she was wearing her hair down, and she was in jeans and a pink and white flowered top. She looked nice.”

  “Yeah,” Payne said. “Wow. You saw her. You really saw Mom. She came because she loves…” Payne’s face went from amazement to horror in a second. “Oh, Bristol. Oh, I’m so sorry. Your parents…”

  Now it was my turn to shush him. “Let’s just not go there today. What’s important is your mom did come for you. I’m so sorry I didn’t spend more time talking to her about the things that matter, but let me tell you what she did say.”

  I linked hands with Payne and the two of us went for a walk together. It was precious little information I could relay, but I did my best. When I was done, Payne told me a few stories. Soon enough, Payne opened up to me like never before.

  We made our way back on the road. “You hungry?” he asked.

  “Silly question,” I said. “I’m never going to be one of those girls that eats nothing but salads.”

  “No, that’s Hunter,” Payne said. “I like a girl who can keep up with me. So will my aunt.” Payne pulled off the highway and headed into a small development.

  “What do you mean your aunt? Payne, where are we going?”

  “To see Aunt Breanne, remember? I told you I wanted you to meet her. She’s important to me.”

  “I know she is,” I said. “But I hate to just drop by unexpectedly.”

  “Unexpected?” Payne said. “She is expecting us. Not my fault that you forgot.”

  “I didn’t forget!” I insisted, though I had. “I just have a lot on my mind. You know, shadow creatures and possessed cows.”

  “Well,” Payne said, “there will be no shadow creatures here, and unless Aunt Breanne is serving burgers or steak, no cows.”

  He pulled into the driveway of a pretty yellow cottage with a traditional white picket fence and nicely tended garden. Payne rushed to my side of the BMW and opened my door. I let him take my hand and lead me to the house.

  “Wait,” I said, a feeling of panic taking over. “What if she doesn’t like me?”

  “She’ll love you,” Payne assured.

  “Why would she like me?”

  “Why wouldn’t she?”

  “What if I say something stupid? Or if I offend her? Or if I accidently set her house on fire?”

  Payne took my face in his hands. “Bristol, if you say something stupid, we’ll all laugh and move on. It’s unlikely you would ever say anything to offend my aunt because as much as I know you’re going to like her, I also know she’s going to like you. But if you do, you’ll apologize, and that will be that.”

  “You seem to have an answer for everything,” I remarked.

  “I do,” Payne agreed. “And just on the off chance you do set her house on fire, which I must admit is a smidge more likely, we’ll call the fire department and have them put it out. She has insurance.”

  I narrowed my eyes and started to prepare what I’m sure would have been a scathing retort. But before the words formed, the front door opened and out stepped a lovely woman with strawberry blonde hair and the sweetest smile I’d ever seen. About two inches shorter than I was, she was dressed in a yellow sunflower dress and was barefoot.

  “So, this is Bristol?” she said with twinkling blue eyes and open arms that demanded a hug. “Come here.”

  Helpless, I allowed myself to be pulled into an embrace that I returned despite myself. When she pulled away, she held me at arm’s length and gave me a good look.

  “My boy here is nearly seventeen years old,” she said with a smile and a wink toward Payne. “And in all this time he never bothered to notice any one of the girls in town. Ever since he met you, he’s had nothing but you on his mind. Somehow, I get the impression that you didn’t just throw yourself at his feet with the rest of them.”

  “No, Bristol did not,” Payne said. “In fact, the first time we exchanged words, she was rather mean to me.”

  Aunt Breanne slanted an eyebrow toward me. “Were you now?” Her tone was amused, but there was a definite look of protectiveness there. “Did he deserve it?”

  I looked over to Payne, who shrugged. Well hell, I thought, this was his idea. “You tell me. I was down by the stream when he came crashing out on his dirt bike. Wrecked the bike and scared the heck out of me. He was lucky he didn’t break his neck.”

  Aunt Breanne’s eyes changed to anger, aimed directly at Payne. “You know how I hate when you do that. I beg you all the time to stop. Why won’t you promise me you’ll be more careful and cut out all this reckless nonsense?”

  Payne moved to his aunt and pulled her into a hug filled with love and understanding despite the comical fact that Payne towered over the little woman. When they separated, he kissed her cheek sweetly, rested his forehead on hers, and nodded. “I give you my word, Aunt Breanne. No more recklessness.”

  Quickly, Aunt Breanne pulled away and studied her nephew. “You’ve never been willing to say that. I can’t believe you’d lie about something you know is so important to me. So why all of a sudden…” Her eyes drifted away from Payne and locked onto me. “It’s you. You got him to promise to stop doing such things, didn’t you?”

  I was left speechless by the look of utter gratitude that appeared on his aunt’s face. Her tiny frame pulled me into such a powerful embrace, I felt shaken down to my soul.

  Not to mention, mortified.

  I looked to Payne for help, but he just stood there wearing this big, stupid grin. Great, just great. I patted Aunt Breanne on her back and after a bit, decided to bite the bullet and return the hug.

  Fin
ally, Aunt Breanne pulled back. She still had tears in her eyes and a trembling lip. She held my hand almost as if she was afraid I might bolt. I wonder how she knew it had crossed my mind.

  “Oh look at me,” Aunt Breanne said, “embarrassing you like that. Please come in. We have so much to talk about.”

  She drew me inside and closed the door, blocking off any chance of escape. “What would make you think I was embarrassed?”

  She pulled me into what must have been the living room and directed me to sit.

  “Sweetheart,” Aunt Breanne said. “It’s written all over your face.”

  My cheeks grew hot. “Yeah, well, um.”

  I looked around the room. It was a simple space. A light brown covered the walls, with soft leather chairs that matched the couch I was sitting on. There was an old TV in the corner that didn’t look like it was used very often. On the mantle were lines of pictures, all of Jared. In the middle was a single white, lit candle.

  “I wanted to tell you in person how sorry I am about Jared,” I said. “Payne told me about him. He sounds like he was a wonderful boy.”

  Aunt Breanne nodded. “He was. He was so full of life. So happy. Jared loved everyone, and everyone loved Jared.” She rose and walked to the fireplace and picked up a picture frame. Considering it for a moment, she brought it over to me.

  I took the frame and studied the picture. It was Jared when he was only about six. He shared the picture frame with a ten-year-old Payne.

  As I handed the picture back to Aunt Breanne, I saw a big, black dog streak in the room. “Eli!” I called. “I wondered what happened to him.” Eli came over and nuzzled my hand, demanding me to pet him.

  Aunt Breanne left for a moment and returned with a tray of cheese and crackers. She dispatched Payne into the kitchen to fetch a pitcher of lemonade and some glasses.

  “Your uncle brought Eli to me,” she explained as she poured three glasses. “He wasn’t sure if I would want him, but of course I did. I almost feel like I have a little bit of Jared back.”

  So there we sat, nibbling on cheese and crackers, Payne “accidentally” dropping a fair share toward Eli. We spoke of Jared, but the stories weren’t sad. Aunt Breanne smiled through them all. Somewhere along the line, she segued into stories about Payne. She told tales of his misadventures while Payne squirmed and offered lame defenses such as: “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  By the time we sat down to dinner, I was completely comfortable. Dinner was fantastic. She served turkey with homemade stuffing, stuffed mushrooms, peas, and carrots. After dinner, Aunt Breanne refused any help in the kitchen for cleanup from either me or Payne. She warned me that next time she would take me up on my offer. I was so proud of myself for not even cringing at the thought of a next time.

  Soon she brought out carrot cake and coffee. As Aunt Breanne passed out plates, she looked over at me and smiled. “You don’t like talking about yourself that much, do you?”

  “Nothing much to say,” I answered. “I’m boring.”

  “I doubt that,” Aunt Breanne responded. “I wanted to thank you for whatever your part was in finding Jared’s remains and discovering the truth. Next weekend I’ll finally get to lay him to rest. I hope you’ll be there.”

  “Of course,” I answered. “I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you.”

  “It’s been difficult. It hurts every day. But I believe my Jared wouldn’t want me to just sit around and cry. I’ve always known he was gone. I knew he wasn’t ever coming home to me.”

  I took her hand. “Mother’s intuition?”

  “To a great extent, yes,” Aunt Breanne said. “A mother knows. Your uncle always told me not to give up hope. Such a sweet man. He still comes to check on me, you know. Poor man, it hurt him so much to have to come to tell me when Jared was found. I knew why he was there the moment I opened the door.”

  I could feel the overwhelming sadness within her welling up. This was a woman who refused to let resentment and grief control her life simply because she knew her son would never want it to.

  “Then there was Payne’s Uncle Kayden,” Aunt Breanne added. “He came to see me. Do you remember him?”

  “Yeah,” Payne answered. “He was the wacky one. Loner. I remember he’d talk to himself whenever I saw him. He died the same year Jared disappeared.”

  “Yes, he did,” Aunt Breanne confirmed. “That was a few days after he came to see me. Kayden told me that he wasn’t talking to himself but rather to ghosts, and he’d seen Jared’s not too far from here. In fact, it was where Jared was found, now that I think about it.”

  “Wait, I’m sorry,” I said. “This Kayden could to speak to ghosts?”

  “That’s what he told me,” Aunt Breanne said. “I know how silly that sounds, but I think he really could. Of course, here in Spirit there are lots of things that sound crazy, but are true. Oh, now I’ve gone and convinced you I’m crazy.”

  “No, I don’t think you are,” I told her. “Really. It just took me by surprise.”

  Aunt Breanne smiled. “Do you think it’s possible? For someone to speak to the dead?”

  Wow, what a question.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Well, Kayden said he could,” Aunt Breanne explained. “I don’t think Kayden ever talked to anyone about what he could see. I was going to try to talk to him again. See if he could find Jared and talk to him, but before I could, Kayden killed himself. So tragic.”

  “He committed suicide?” I asked.

  “Well, that’s certainly what it appeared to be,” Aunt Breanne said. “Your uncle was never one hundred percent sure. He went off a ledge of one of the McKnight buildings. It could’ve been an accident, but why was he up there to begin with?”

  As the night went on, I kept thinking about Kayden McKnight. Was it an accident or a suicide? Or were the shadow creatures behind his death as well? Could talking to the dead drive someone so insane that he or she would take his or her own life? And if so, would that happen to me?

  I had enjoyed my time there far more than I ever thought I would, but I was grateful when it was time to go. I wanted to talk to Payne alone.

  As she saw us out, Aunt Breanne shooed Payne off. She wanted a few moments with me. Payne told me he would wait for me at the car. As he stepped off the porch, Aunt Breanne turned toward me.

  “Bristol,” she said. “I can’t tell you how happy I am that you and Payne are together. He means the world to me. And anyone can see how he looks at you.”

  “It’s nothing,” I insisted. “We’re just hanging out.”

  “Nonsense,” Aunt Breanne said. “But I’ll let you go on thinking that for now.”

  “Thanks,” I murmured, which earned a laugh from Aunt Breanne. “And thanks for dinner. It was great.”

  “Oh, it was nothing,” Aunt Breanne said. “I enjoy cooking. I hate cooking for myself. So please drop by. Do you cook at all?”

  “Does microwavable popcorn count?” I asked.

  “Not really,” she answered. “Next time you come, you and Payne can help me in the kitchen. I’ve taught Payne. Has he cooked for you?”

  “Not yet. Should I be scared?”

  “Maybe,” she said. “Payne tends to try and spice things up. But he’s not bad.”

  As Aunt Breanne kept talking, I felt something cold pass me by. There was something out there. I looked out to see Payne getting into the car. He sent me that killer grin, reached down, and pressed the start button on the car.

  Aunt Breanne and I watched as the BMW exploded. Parts of the car flew in all directions as flames engulfed the vehicle and nearby trees. Aunt Breanne and I screamed. We ran to the inferno, calling for Payne.

  I could feel the agony Payne experienced as his body was scorched and burned. I watched as Aunt Breanne ran toward the car screaming for the young man she thought of as a son. The pain was so intense, it was nearly impossible not to pass out.

  As the inferno raged through the rubble of the BMW, Aunt Brea
nne tried to get close enough to help but was held at bay by the flames and heat. She was crying and screaming that maybe he was still alive. Had it been anyone else, there would be no doubt he had been killed. But this was Payne McKnight. And I knew Payne was alive because I still felt his agony.

  Payne suddenly burst free of the vehicle, his body on fire. I realized his power was trying to heal him even as the flames continued to burn away his flesh. He managed to look up at me, his deep blue eyes still unmistakable.

  “Fall to the ground!” Aunt Breanne yelled. “Roll!”

  Payne obeyed. He fell to the ground and tried to roll, but he was too weak to do so.

  “Do you have a blanket?” I asked through gritted teeth. I watched Aunt Breanne run to the house, and I prayed for her to hurry.

  Aunt Breanne returned with a blue blanket that she threw over him, using it to smother out the last of the flames. I managed to stumble over to their side.

  “It’s out,” she screamed. “The fire is out! He’ll…” She stopped midsentence and looked at me. “Bristol, are you all right?”

  I felt like every inch of me was being stabbed over and over again by tiny invisible daggers. There was no end to the pain. I wept in anguish.

  Then Payne went into convulsions. The black patches of skin seemed to boil and then slowly melt into flesh that was red, then soon into his normal skin. Even his nose, which looked like it had been completely blown away, was growing back. Soon he was whole, his dark hair again falling in front of his eyes. His clothes were in tatters as he sat up, struggling for breath, and pulling me into a deep embrace.

  “Bristol, are you okay?” he asked.

  Wow, did this guy know how to make me look bad! But I didn’t care. I just wept in his arms, grateful for his abilities. The thought of living without Payne was too much to bear. Aunt Breanne watched us intently.

  “I s-see you’re taking Payne’s recovery in s-stride,” I said, fighting to keep my voice steady while rubbing away my tears.