by JR Wirth
“Almost there, guys. Yea!” I boasted. I did a quick look around at my weary, but happy traveling companions. When I focused back at the crosswalk, I saw a Latino family cross. A mother with a baby carriage, along with her three other children, were making their way directly in front of us. The eldest boy, who seemed about eleven or twelve, looked me in the eyes. He then looked toward the license plate, and back at me. This time he kept an intense stare that pierced through my soul.
Curiously, I stared back. Then, suddenly, my mind went dark. I heard screeching brakes and tires, and then an image appeared in my mind. It was the same family, all sprawled about the road, bloodied and battered. They were all motionless, except for the boy with whom I’d had the staring match; and the baby carriage, which had been hurled to the side of the road. The boy stood at the side of the carnage, with an angry look. He was still staring at me, but now in anger, while rain mixed with tears, running down his cheeks. He seemed to be blaming me for causing the brutal accident. Blood flowed under his feet and I heard a faint scream from one of his brothers, who lay in agony on the wet asphalt road. I felt as like a bystander, watching the aftermath of a tragic accident.
In the background, I heard, “Daddy! Daddy!” but I couldn’t take my eyes off the young boy and his family, orphaned in the middle of an intersection. Suddenly, I felt someone grab my shoulder. Dylan’s pull caused me to wake from the awful dream.
“Drive, Uncle Jess, drive.”
I looked back at Dylan. Simultaneously, I heard a stream of angry car horns honk at me. I jumped and hit the accelerator, making it through the intersection just before the new, yellow light turned red.
Chapter Four
There was a lot of buzz when we finally made it to Jim’s house. He and his wife, Kristen, along with their adult daughter Brianna, were waiting outside when we pulled up. They walked fast to the car to check on Dylan and make sure we were all okay. Dylan and Brianna hugged.
“How are you, little brother?” she asked, with much concern. Brianna was known by the name Bree to those close to her. To me she was simply, Niece. By any name, Bree was a sweet girl with true concern for others. She also had a great ear for music and was quite the talented singer. And her Facebook page is loaded with beautiful headshots from all over the Southwest.
Though Dylan and Bree had been in a constant text conversation since we left the scene of the accident, the horror of a lightning attack was too much to bear. She hugged him again.
When we finally made our way inside, we debated heavily as whether we should go to the hospital or not, with Kristen pushing for a yes. But, in the end, we decided as a group that we would keep an eye out for each other and if any symptoms arose we’d take immediate action. During and after dinner, which included a few beers, there was a lot of spirited conversation. Each of us told of our own experience when lightning hit the car. Jade insisted that it hit her and traveled through her body into mine, which got a giggle out of the much older crowd.
“It did,” Jade insisted. “And when I saw the lightning, I also saw an angel in the middle of the light.”
That got even a larger laugh. Jade folded her arms with a scowl on her face.
Trying to cool her core before there was a meltdown, I approached Jade and knelt next to the arm of the couch where she sat. “I think,” I said, in a lowered, gentle voice. “We would be in much worse shape honey, if we’d been directly hit by the lightning.”
Jade gave me a smart-alecky, tilt-of-the-head look. “Really?”
I chuckled at the cuteness of her response.
She then lifted the sheared, right sleeve of her blouse, exhibiting a burn mark, which, at the point of impact, was formed in the shape of a cross. The base of the cross extended the length of the inside of her arm and disappeared under her armpit.
Stunned and breathless, I quickly covered it up.
“Go take a quick shower,” I insisted. “See if it comes off, or if you feel any better.”
“I do feel kind of warm, Pa. But I’m okay.”
“Come on. I want to check you out.”
Instead of embarrassing Jade by checking out her body for other burns and possible bruising, I called Brandy aside and asked her to take Jade into the bathroom and do a visual inspection, while I waited in the hall.
Brandy quickly returned with a concerned look on her face. “Hey Daddy, how are you feeling?” she asked.
“I’m fine, kiddo, don’t worry about me. Now, what did you find out about Jade?”
She leaned in, to whisper in my ear. “The line on her right arm is also on her left arm. It stops halfway down.”
I looked down and exposed my right arm and hand. I too had a burn line. It started from the space between my thumb and index finger and extended up the inside of my arm, to the pit. The look of dumbfound returned to my face.
“We were hit,” I whispered.
“What?”
“Nothing, kiddo. Keep a close eye on Jade, will you?”
“Sure, Daddy.”
When Jade returned from her shower wearing her pajamas, I lifted the right sleeve and compared where my burn started and hers ended. It was a perfect match. I must have grabbed her, I thought, just before she was hit by the lightning. Maybe there’s something to the angel sighting after all.
Chapter Five
Friday morning, July 3.
There is a general flow to the routine when we’re at Jim and Kristen’s home. It seemed that either Jim or I were always up first. Whoever it was, on a given morning, prepared the first pot of coffee. Next the news would come on and then ESPN, or vice-versa. Then came a trip to the patio for a morning chat over a cup of java and a cigar. That usually lasted for a good hour, while the rest of the crew made their way out of their slumber. Sometimes we’d return to hear the local news, while Jim read the paper and I perused my emails, and other online nonsense. For some reason, the routine changed. Kristen was up before everyone and, with the assistance of Bree, decided to make mounds of breakfast burritos. I’m pretty sure she was up all night worrying what might be the long-term effects of lightning strikes on the body, even in a car.
The kids were up earlier as well. Dylan, Brandy and Jade sat around the TV talking about the adventure they’d experienced the day before. When Jim and I entered the house, the atmosphere was as lively as the evening before.
“How are we doing today?” I asked. I waited for each of them to respond and then checked their foreheads for signs of fever and then their pulses. They all checked out.
“We’re fine, Uncle Jess,” Dylan said. “So does that mean we can go out today?”
“Where do you plan to go?”
“Well—?”
“Whatever you do,” Jim interrupted. “You need to be back early so we can catch the show on Fremont Street.” Fremont Street was notorious for having live music and festivities on the first Friday of the month, and even more so on holiday weekends. This promised to be a big Friday extravaganza.
“We will.” Dylan looked at his watch and then at Brandy. “I’ll call Daniel in a while then we’ll head out.”
Brandy nodded and then a silence came over the room, as the plans had been made. Everyone focused on the TV. Dylan held the remote and before he could change the channel, I shouted. “Wait! I want to see this.” On the screen was an accident scene. It was night. “Turn it up, Dylan. I want to hear this.”
“Okay.”
The shot changed to a reporter in the morning sun, blocking her eyes as she reported. “… last night,” I heard the reporter say, mid-sentence... “a horrific accident shut down pre-holiday traffic along Nellis Boulevard.” As the young investigative reporter continued her report, the screen split and a shot from the previous evening came into view. It was that of a family, run down in a crosswalk by a hit-and-run driver. The shot then focus
ed solely on the accident. The cameraman pulled back and showed a panoramic view of the area. Bodies were shown having been thrown about the street. The picture then changed to a paramedic holding a baby.
“Right now, the police are asking for your help to find a late model, grey sedan; perhaps a Toyota or Nissan, with a California license plate. The first two digits of the license plate are 6 and S.”
“Oh shit. It’s them.”
“What’s that, Uncle Jess?” Dylan asked.
“The family from yesterday, at the crosswalk, it’s them.”
“No way; really?”
“Wait.” I put up my hand and all the attention went back on the TV newscast.
On-screen was the same report, but it showed the night before, just after the accident. “We have a male survivor,” the reporter said as she turned and reached for a boy. “Twelve-year-old Salvador was trailing behind the others and stopped to get something for his mother that had fallen from the baby carriage.”
Salvador came into view. “I knew something bad was going to happen. I saw it in a vision. So did he.”
“Who, Salvador?” the reported asked, jumping on the new information. I’m sure she hoped to break open the case single-handedly. Again, she asked, “Who also knew? Did he have something to do with it?”
“The Seer,” Salvador growled. “He saw it.”
I gulped and lost my breath, yet I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen.
Salvador looked into the camera with the same intense stare he’d used the day before. “The Seer.”
“Daddy, he’s the boy you had the vision of.”
“Yeah,” Jade agreed. “And then you couldn’t move, remember?”
I smirked. “Yes, I remember.”
Brandy walked to the recliner where I sat. She put her hand on my shoulder. “Daddy,” she said, obviously trying to soothe my dismay. “It will be okay.”
Barely able to form a thought, I patted her hand. “I know, kiddo, I know.” But inside I felt in turmoil. Anxiety overcame me and I needed to do something, anything. But what?
Suddenly Dylan shouted, “Listen Uncle Jess!” He pointed to the TV and turned up the sound.
The story had ended, and the anchorwoman was talking about a back-up along the I-15 freeway. “To further delay yesterday’s pre-holiday rush, there was a twenty-mile backup just outside Stateline, where witnesses reported lightning struck a vehicle. A Good Samaritan reported that he immediately stopped and helped the vacationing family. We have him on the line. Good Samaritan, John, tell us what happened.”
“Dylan!” I shouted. “Turn it off.”
“Okay?” he replied questioningly, and turned it to a movie channel.
I got up and grabbed my small travel bag. I went to the bathroom and changed. When I returned, I declared, “I’m going for a run. I need to think.”
Chapter Six
I ran out the door, and quickly made it to East Lake Mead Boulevard. Panicked, I began to run faster. I quickly made it to the corner of Lake Mead and Nellis, kitty-corner from where the encounter with the boy took place. I stopped and stared trying to find an answer, but the heat was already getting unbearable, and sweat dripped down my forehead. I knew I’d need to have a short run and then hydrate. So, when nothing came to me, I jogged to the gas station for a bottle of water. The man at the counter had an accent―East Indian, I thought.
“Is that all?” he asked.
I looked up and immediately caught him staring at me. I couldn’t help but stare back. After a moment of eye-to-eye contact, my mind once again went blank. When my thoughts focused, I saw the clerk getting robbed. He didn’t cooperate though, and the criminal got increasingly agitated. The clerk reached under the counter. The movement seemed to spook the thief, for he lifted his gun and ruthlessly shot the store clerk. The clerk fell, lifeless. His fall exposed the wall clock. It read 11:30 a.m.
“Sir, hello, are you okay?” I heard him say, and then someone behind me tapped me on the shoulder.
“Huh?” I turned and nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks.” But in reality, I felt sick to my stomach, as though I’d really witnessed a brutal murder. With an angry line behind me, and no effective response at hand, I paid with my card and headed out the door. It suddenly dawned on me that the clerk could be in serious danger. I stopped just inside the door and waited. When he was alone, I approached him. “This is going to sound crazy, but I believe that you are going to get robbed today; and if you don’t comply with the criminal’s demands, he will shoot you.”
The clerk gave me a weird, unbelieving look.
“Look, I know it seems nuts, but trust me. If there’s no police here, and you don’t comply, your life will be in danger.”
He smirked and said, “Okay, whatever you say, boss.”
I left, but at the door I stopped again and pointed, shouting, “Do what he says! And whatever you do, don’t reach under the counter, even if you have a gun back there.”
The encounter plagued me the entire run, but I carried on. I soon came upon a young woman jogging toward me. She smiled and when we made eye contact, it happened again. I saw her twisting her ankle and then falling into the street, with oncoming traffic speeding toward her. Immediately, I ran back to her and told her stay away from the curbs, particularly on Lamb Boulevard, where she was headed. She looked quite puzzled as to how I knew she’d head in that direction, but thanked me nonetheless. She promised to stay well on the sidewalk and to run with traffic, not against it.
It was at the point that I knew the boy was right. I could no longer deny that I really could see things, and that there might be a greater reason for my sudden affliction, gift or curse. I headed back to Jim’s to sort it all out.
As I walked in the door, I saw Bree in the kitchen. “Hey Uncle, how are you feeling?”
“I don’t know yet,” I joked, and made my way to the living area where the others were. They were watching the movie, The Fourth Kind. “Hey guys, what’s up?”
“Hi Daddy,” Brandy said.
“Hi Pa,” Jade added.
“You have to see this movie, Uncle Jess,” Dylan said, enthusiastically. I’m sure he was trying to distract me.
Then the phone rang. No one got up to get it. Dylan ignored it and Bree yelled out, “Telemarketer,” which caused everyone to laugh; except Jade.
Instead, Jade looked at Kristen and then smiled. “Get the phone, Auntie Kristen. It’s for you. It’s the job you wanted. They’re going to give it to you.”
Curiously, Kristen got up and answered the phone. “Hello.”
We all watched, but she moved into the kitchen, out of our view. When she returned, Kristen was speechless. She looked at me with a disturbed look and then a smile. “Jade was right. I got the job!”
“Yay Mom!” Bree shouted, followed by cheers all around.
Having had extended eye contact with Kristen, I had another vision. “And don’t be late on your first day, it won’t go well.”
“I won’t.”
Anxiety soon grabbed hold of me again. I began to pace. And then I heard sirens rush past the park and stop just down the street. I looked at the clock and saw that it was 11:45. The robbery!
Chapter Seven
After several attempts to calm myself, I decided to get out for a while. Brandy went out with Dylan, and Bree offered to watch Jade until they all went to the Fremont Experience.
Ready to go, I knelt to get eye contact with Jade. “Be good, okay?”
“I will, Pa.” She smiled. “You should go to the hotel with the needle on top.”
“You mean the Stratosphere?”
“Yeah, that’s the one. Play the two-dollar table; you’re going to get lucky, I know it.” She then raised her hand and gave me a high-five.
“That sounds good
.”
As I headed out the door, I thought, What could she possibly know about two-dollar blackjack? She’s probably been watching too much TV, or on the Internet. I’ll have to keep an eye out and check her history. But, I had no better plans, so what the heck? Though I seriously doubted that any casino would have two-dollar tables on a Friday, particularly on a long holiday weekend.
The entire drive I was in a hypnotic trance, playing the scenes with the child, jogger, and store clerk, over and over in my mind. I avoided eye contact with everyone I saw, particularly those in crosswalks. I never noticed how many people actually walk in that part of town, nor did I realize that the closer you get to the strip, the more pedestrians there are. And every time someone looked my way, I looked down.
I parked in the back of the casino and cautiously made my way in, along with countless others who, like the girls moving about the morning before, zombie-walked. Most wore shorts and T-shirts. Many wore fanny packs and tennis shoes. And, of course, there were the occasional short-skirted, high-heeled lookers. Some of the young women were with dates, others in small groups, and a few wandered about on their own, leaving my mind free to imagine their stories and plans.
Just before sunset, I got a text from Bree: We’re headed out to Fremont Street. Do you want to meet up later?
Thank you, I responded. You guys have fun. I’ll let you know later. I checked my watch and wondered where the time went. Not wanting to add to my anxiety, I simply shrugged and continued to the casino. Again, I tried to avoid eye contact while I masked my apprehension.
Suddenly, I noticed a young couple coming straight at me. I froze. I looked down and then back at the handsome couple smiling at me. They were obviously winners, or maybe they were just getting started with their exciting evening on the town. Regardless of their plight, they were headed right for me. My anxiety turned to near-panic when, again, I intentionally lowered my head to avoid pleasantries.