by Lari Smythe
* * *
Monday had to be the slowest day ever. I had no way of knowing if Izzy would know to come by, I just had to hope. Practice was good, Coach was real stoked about Friday's win and really took it easy on us. When I got home, I showered, had dinner and then did my homework. I watched television with Mom, but made an excuse to turn in early hoping she might do the same. No such luck. Finally, around 10:15 her bedroom light went out.
I was in trouble now, still no Izzy and it was doubtful I could start the Jeep without Mom hearing it—maybe my bicycle—I'd be late, but better late than never. I slipped downstairs unnoticed and decided to go out through the guestroom since it was further away from Mom's bedroom.
"Jeez!" I gasped as I opened the door to Izzy's silhouette. "You sacred the crap out of me."
"Sorry. You're late, I was getting ready to come up and get you."
"Then you know?"
"Sure, thanks. There's no time for your Jeep." She swept me up on her back and we took off through the underbrush.
Talk about a rush, this was incredible. Sure, I felt lame, riding on her back, but the experience was amazing to say the least. It was almost frightening how fast we weaved through the trees and over obstacles. My legs started to hurt from Izzy's steel grip, but I figured it was necessary to keep me from falling off. Besides the exhilaration of the run, the wind blowing though Izzy's hair and washing over me was magnificent. I had to remind myself where we were going and why. Finally Izzy slowed and we came out of the woods about a block from Cathy's house. There were streetlights, but I followed Izzy though the backyards until we reached Cathy's.
"There," I said, pointing toward the willow in her backyard. "Is she there?" I glanced down at my watch it was 10:45.
"She's there." Izzy glanced around. "Why don't you go ahead to make sure she's okay, I don't want to frighten her?"
"Okay, I'll wave when we're ready."
"Just say my name, I'll hear you."
"Right, kind of forgot." I slipped along the hedge until I was just outside the umbrella of willow branches. "Cathy, it's Jason."
"You're late." She opened one of the small, plastic, shutters and peered out at me.
"Sorry, my mom stayed up late."
"Where's Izzy?"
"Here I am," Izzy said, gliding up next to me. "You okay?"
"We better hurry, Mom checks on me sometimes."
"After you," I said, opening the tiny door.
To say the playhouse was cramped was an understatement and I knew it was going to be a problem for Izzy. Cathy didn't seem afraid, but she was cautious.
"I don't think this is such a good idea," Izzy said from inside the cramped confines.
"Tell you what," I said, "how about I participate from just outside the window? Is that okay with you, Cathy?"
"As long as I can see you."
"Okay. Excuse me, coming through." I squeezed past Izzy and then knelt down next to the window.
"I really appreciate you doing this," Izzy offered.
"I don't know if it will work. What's your father's name?"
"Benjamin."
"Falkner, like you?"
"Yes."
"Jason said your father has a similar gift."
"Yes, he taught me so I could try to help you get past the incident with Derrick."
Cathy shivered. "I think for this to have a chance, we will need to hold hands."
"That include me?" I asked.
"Let me try with just Izzy." Cathy took a deep breath and slowly let it escape.
From my spot outside the window, I could tell Izzy was nervous, with good reason, a lot depended on tonight's outcome. Izzy slowly extended her hands, palms up.
"I should warn you," Cathy said, "we will connect, like we were one, our thoughts—our memories will be exposed. Are you okay with that?"
"No, but—"
"No?" I interrupted. They both shot me that annoyed girl glare.
"No, but I will do what I must to find my family. One more thing, I don't know exactly how much you know about me, but no matter what you see, I will not hurt you."
Cathy silently nodded. "Let's give this a try." She slowly reached for Izzy and rested her palms in Izzy's.
I could see the surprise in Izzy's eyes, but Cathy showed no reaction. Her head sank forward, her face disappearing beneath her black hair. She shook her head from side-to-side, mumbling Benjamin's name. After a minute, her head rolled back and she continued to call Benjamin's name. Her body shook with a tremor and her head rolled forward until her gaze fell on Izzy, and then—nothing. Their eyes were intensely locked on one another, neither flinched.
After forever it seemed, I asked, "Are you guys okay?"
Izzy blinked. "Benjamin? Benjamin, is that you?"
Suddenly, Cathy jerked her hands back and then slumped forward. Again, her face disappeared under her hair.
"Is she okay?" I asked.
"Shh," Izzy replied, but after another minute, she spoke to Cathy. "Are you alright?"
For her to ask, told me the connection was broken. Cathy suddenly inhaled deeply and then sat up straight.
"Well?" she asked.
"No," Izzy mumbled, "I'm afraid not."
"I'm sorry."
"Thank you for trying." Izzy looked at me and I could tell that meant she was leaving and this time, it would be without me.
Cathy seemed to pick up on our unspoken fear of what lay ahead.
"Perhaps if we included Jason," Cathy suggested.
"You think that could help?" Izzy asked.
"To say you two are close would be a gross understatement, so maybe together we'll have a better chance."
"I'm in," I offered.
Izzy hesitated. "Will our feelings be exposed to one another?" she asked.
"I don't know," Cathy replied, "I've never done this with more than one." She looked at me.
"Really, I was your first?" I pondered.
Cathy sneered, "Not funny."
"He's incorrigible," Izzy explained.
"Don't I know," Cathy replied.
Okay, so I was totally embarrassed, and if this went the way Cathy thought, Izzy would soon know just how incorrigible I really was. I guess Cathy already did—that was wrong on so many levels.
Cathy opened the shutter around the corner of the tiny playhouse.
"Seriously," I said, "you want me to reach in through two different windows?"
"There's not enough room for all of us," Izzy replied.
"Great, gonna look like I'm humpin' the dollhouse. Hope nobodies out walking their dog."
"Lets begin," Cathy encouraged.
I assumed a position like a baseball catcher with my knees straddling the corner of the tiny playhouse and stuck one arm through each window. Izzy's cool hand took mine first, and then the electric spark when Cathy grasped my other hand. I couldn't see anything but the plastic wall this time, but felt the connection with Cathy, but not with Izzy—that probably wasn't a good sign. I was a little relieved on another level. No need for exposing my adolescent yearnings for her, of course it also meant I couldn't feel hers—at least I hoped that was what I was missing.
"Benjamin?" Izzy said about the same time my leg started to cramp.
"Izzy?" Cathy replied. "How—"
"Daddy, Daddy, I need you," Izzy cried.
My thigh cramped at that moment, and I kicked the playhouse with a loud, thud, and fell back into the bushes.