Dad and I proudly watched as Sophie marched by, flapping her wings. We laughed at how happy she seemed and it made us happy. She beamed at us, and at that very moment, from the smile on her face, I just knew all the messy glue and paint had been worthwhile. It also confirmed my original thought—we are right where we are supposed to be—with each other. I linked my arm in Dad’s, happy that he had made the choice to take us there to Pacific Grove. I knew everything would be all right and that things would work out with Henry, one way or another.
After the parade, Dad took us girls to brunch at First Awakenings, a café just up from the aquarium. We sat at one of the bistro tables outside, beneath a big blue umbrella. On such a bright, sunny day, I welcomed the shade—plus being fair-skinned, I tended to burn easily.
A waitress took our drink orders: an iced tea for Dad, a strawberry milkshake for Sophie, and an orange smoothie for me. I ordered a Cobb salad and had barely started eating it when my cell rang. Since Henry and I had started seeing each other, I’d had little time to spend with my new friend Emily. Of course, she wasn’t the kind of girl who would let such neglect pass unnoticed.
“Hey, Ali. What are you up to today?” she asked, her sugary sweet voice filling my ear.
“Nothing much,” I replied. “Just having lunch at the moment, but I’ve got no plans for this afternoon.” I had an urge to go out, and I knew that if I didn’t find something to do, it would just give me an excuse to mope around the house.
“Wanna hang out?”
“Sure. What do you have in mind?”
“Well…I need a dress for homecoming,” Emily said. “Will you help me find one?”
I sighed. . . Not the best person to ask, since I hated shopping, but I’d been neglecting my friend for several days, so I decided to join her. Besides, I didn’t have a dress of my own, and since I planned to invite Henry as my date, I wanted to look special. “Sounds good,” I said. “How about we meet at three by the dolphin fountain at the mall?”
After I hung up the phone and set it down on the table, Dad looked at me curiously, arching an eyebrow. “The mall? Honey, since when have you been interested in shopping?”
“Homecoming is next week, and I need something to wear.” I took a bite of my Cobb salad, ready to change the subject.
Dad, however, still had questions on his mind. “Homecoming, huh? Is there a boy involved? Anyone I should be aware of?”
I shook my head and averted my eyes, crunching noisily on a piece of lettuce. “No,” I fibbed. “I’m just going with Emily, but I still want to look nice.”
“Sweetheart, you always look nice.”
“Aw. Thanks, Dad,” I said licking dressing from my mouth.
Monterey Plaza was the typical American shopping mall experience. In addition to the coffee shops and ice cream parlors, there were big, dependable chain department stores, Mexican and other kinds of restaurants in the food court, and a cinema multiplex. A fun place to get lost in on a Saturday afternoon.
In Macy’s, we perused the racks of dresses, with all the new fall fashions on display. Emily had very eclectic taste in clothes, and she normally opted for bohemian clothing in shades of black and green, the colors that complemented her spiky dark hairstyle and gave a slinky quality to her long limbs.
“What color suits me best?” she asked, holding up a blue dress then a green one. “What about this one?”
I had never seen her in an evening gown and was curious to see how she would look in an elegant getup. “That one looks good,” I said, pointing. “Green always looks good on you.”
“You really think so?” Emily said, looking doubtfully at the dress. “What about you? Which one are you gonna try?”
I selected a purple gown that showed some cleavage and cut low in the back. It was unlike anything I usually wore, but I figured I might be able to pull it off. “How about this?” I asked, hesitantly holding up the sexy garment.
“Oh yeah, that looks great!”
We carried our dresses into the fitting rooms, giggling all the way. Five minutes later—all decked out in evening gowns, messed-up hair, and sneakers—we emerged and looked at ourselves in the full-length mirror.
“Wow. You look beautiful,” I said to Emily, naturally pretty, but right now—she was absolutely stunning, almost unrecognizable, in her full-length gown. Such a transformation, and for the first time, I noticed her arms were slender and delicate.
“Thanks. So do you. That color really suits you.”
I gazed at myself in the mirror and adjusted my cleavage. I pictured myself standing next to Henry, statuesque like a pine, and I would need heels just to reach his chin; even then, he would still a good head taller. I had deliberately chosen a vintage-looking gown, with a timeless, classic feel to it. Instinctively, I felt that he would like it.
Emily was smoothing the dress in front of the vanity mirror when her face contorted in pain. She brought her hand up to her temples and opened her mouth in anguish.
“What’s wrong?” I said, steadying her with my arm, fearing she might keel over right there in Macy’s.
“Nothing. I’m fine,” she snapped, trying to regain her composure. “I’m all right. It’s just—I had a sudden flash of something.”
“A flash?” I said. “What? Like a vision?”
Emily nodded and started to breathe deeply. A look of terror swimming in her eyes—a strange, frightening look I’ve only seen once or twice before, like a terrible thing had possessed her soul and wasn’t going to let go. Her brow furrowed.
“Here. Come sit,” I said, guiding her to a footstool.
Emily tried to steady her breathing, holding her hand over her chest.
“Level with me, Em. This isn’t the first time this has happened, is it?” I asked.
Emily shook her head and glanced at me with wide, truthful eyes. “No,” she confessed. She hesitated, then took a deep breath. “Sometimes I—see things.”
“What kinds of things?” I asked, my voice growing hoarse.
“Flashes, events. . . Sometimes I can see into the future.”
“The future?” I repeated.
“Yeah. It’s been going on since I was five. My mom even took me to a shrink once, and I’ve been told I’m psychic.”
Psychic? Emily? How is that possible? Immediately, everything made sense. That had to be why I sometimes felt Emily could peer into my soul, how she knew about my mom’s death even before I told her, and so many other seemingly inexplicable incidences.
“How often does it happen?” I asked.
“Every so often, maybe once or twice a month. Sometimes it’s just little things.”
“Like what?”
“Well, when I’m standing in line at the grocery, I’ll flash forward to a point where I’m chopping onions or something, and I’ll remember that I forgot the garlic. Other times, it’s bigger things. Like I’ll think of someone, and they call me on the phone, seemingly out of the blue, as if I knew they were going to call. Once I reached out to an aunt who died by holding a séance and clutching her handkerchief.”
“Like my mom,” I said. “You knew about my mom, didn’t you? The first time you met me in class?”
Emily nodded. “Yep. You don’t think I’m a freak, do you, Alice?”
“Of course not! I would never think that. What did you see just now though?” I asked.
“The homecoming parade,” Emily began slowly. “I saw a girl, in great pain. Her head was submerged under this dark, murky, dangerous water. She was trying to get up to catch her breath but couldn’t because someone held her there. I saw these big, strong hands.”
Strong hands trying to drown someone? I shuddered at the terrible image of who that could be. “Wh-who was the girl?” I asked carefully, not really ready for the answer.
“I don’t know,” replied Emily. “I only get glimpses, flashes. I couldn’t see her face.”
“Did you see who was holding her?”
Emily screwed up her forehead t
hen shook her head again. “No. His face was hidden in the shadows. I couldn’t see him clearly.”
“What happened to the girl? Did she drown?”
Emily closed her eyes, tightly squeezing them hard to remember the details of the dream. Her forehead creased in pain. Suddenly her eyes opened again, and she shook her head. “I can’t see anything else. It’s just—gone.”
I exhaled deeply and suddenly realized how foolish I must have looked standing there in a purple evening gown. The fancy fabric began to make my skin itch—maybe I’m allergic to glamour, I thought and decided to take it off. “C’mon. Let’s get outta these things. Care to grab a coffee?”
Emily nodded, and we retreated to our changing cubicles to remove our dresses. I left mine hanging in the returns stall, pretty certain that I would never see it again.
In the coffee shop, our mochas sat untouched, growing more tepid by the minute. I observed Emily slowly calm down. Soon, she was cheery again, like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. For me, though, the memory of her watery nightmare, her vision, remained firmly etched in my mind.
“So you’re a psychic, huh?” I said to her over sips of mocha.
“Yeah, but it’s not really something I like to brag about,” Emily said. “I mean, it’s kinda…weird.”
“No, not that weird. There are other things in the world that are a lot weirder.” Like me falling for a century-old ghost, I thought but didn’t say aloud. “Have you ever predicted anything major? A tsunami or car accident or war or anything?” I asked.
“Yeah, my grandma’s death. She lived in Salinas, where we used to live before we moved here. Eighty but very independent. One day, I witnessed her falling down a flight of stairs. I told my mom, and we tried to call Grandma and warn her not to go out that day, to stay away from stairways, but we couldn’t reach her. An hour later, the police came by to tell us they’d found Grandma’s body at the bottom of a flight of stairs. She had slipped and fallen, broke her neck.”
“God, that’s awful, Emily. I’m sorry,” I replied.
“Yeah, I know. I remember the way my mom looked at me when the police told her, as if she thought I caused it. Since then, she hasn’t been the same toward me,” Emily said.
“So she blames you?” I asked, incredulous.
Emily nodded slowly, and tears began to form in her eyes. “Yeah. She thinks I’m a freak, that I just think about bad things and cause them to happen.”
I clasped Emily’s hands in mine. “You’re not a freak. You’re not!”
Emily sniffed, then smiled at me. “Thank you, Alice.”
Still, no matter how hard I tried not to think about it, I just could not get Emily’s vision out of my mind. Who is the girl being held underwater? What monster was holding her, and why would anyone want to drown her? All those questions filled my head leaving the plaza that afternoon.
Chapter Ten: Homecoming
I returned to Macy’s later that week to buy the purple dress. I didn’t particularly love it but somehow, it felt like fate, as though not buying the frock might somehow alter my destiny in a bad way. I handed two-hundred dollars to the cashier, shaking my head. I had never spent so much money on a single item of clothing in my entire life. I had been saving my pocket money for the last year and hadn’t spent much in the past few months, though, so at least I could cover the hefty price tag. Now, I only hoped it would be worth it, that Henry would like what he saw.
I walked home with the bag tucked under my arm, my thoughts once again consumed with Henry. He had an intoxicating effect on me, and I was quickly becoming obsessed with him. I had just bought an expensive dress, and I’d begun taking an interest in clothes and fussing over the way I looked. What happened to satisfaction through reading Brontë and hanging around the house in comfy sweats?
When Thursday night came, the night of the homecoming dance, I spent an hour in front of the mirror, trying on the dress. It showed more cleavage than I normally showed, and it hugged my figure like a glove. I fashioned my hair in several styles and up-do’s, trying to find the best look. Ultimately, I tossed the bobby pins, spray, and hairclips aside and settled for the same-old, same-old and let it fall around my shoulders.
As I dangled a silver earring in front of the mirror, I still couldn’t believe what a fuss I was making. Henry’s and my first official outing as a couple, so deep down, I was eager to show Henry off to my friends—a change for me; I actually care about something and someone.
Henry had promised to pick me up at eight, so I waited nervously to hear a car pulling up outside. Sophie sang out of tune in the bathroom, and Dad went into his cave somewhere downstairs, probably reading a newspaper in the den. I ran to my bedroom window every time I heard the faintest sound.
Finally, I heard a honk. I grabbed my jacket, took one final glance at myself in the mirror, and ran down the stairs, almost tripping on the last few steps. At the bottom, I bumped into Dad.
“Hey! Where’s the fire?” he said. The surprised look in his eyes betrayed this thoughts—one minute, I am his baby daughter, and now I am a young lady on the verge of womanhood.
“Homecoming, Dad. Remember?”
He smiled. “Since when are you so interested in homecomings?” he asked with amusement.
In Chicago, I had never shown any interest in such pretentious things as dances, cheerleading, or pep rallies—nothing that celebrated American high school culture. It wasn’t necessary to tell my dad that having a boyfriend had changed all that.
“Who are you going with, anyhow?” Dad asked.
Keen on escaping the interrogation as quickly as possible, I fibbed a little. “Just a few friends from school, like Emily and Christian, that minister’s son.” I had no problem name-dropping, as long as it would appease my dad and free me to go.
“Oh, okay,” said Dad, relenting a little. “Well, have a nice time.”
A knock on the front door startled me, and a rock fell to the pit of my stomach when Dad raised his eyebrows and went to open it.
“Yes?” he said to the young man on the doorstep.
Henry stood in the doorway, tall and proud, dressed in a smart brown evening jacket—not a regular cliché black suit or a tux like most of the other guys would rent for the occasion. His clothes were always more unique and far more striking, truly vintage rather than some cheap lackluster reproduction or knockoff. He looked so—aristocratic— with his hair combed back, and clean-shaven. To me, he never looked more handsome.
“Hello, Alice,” said Henry when he saw me over my dad’s shoulder. He turned to my dad. “Excuse me, Mr. Parker; I’d like to introduce myself.”
Dad looked at Henry, at me, then back at Henry again. He seemed a little taken aback by Henry’s good manners. “A friend of yours?” Dad asked me.
“My name is Henry Raphael,” Henry continued most cordially. He extended his hand out to Dad.
Dad looked back at me in awe, his mouth agape, then dumbly shook Henry’s hand. “How do you do, Son?” he finally said when the cat let go of his tongue.
“I plan to take your daughter to homecoming tonight,” Henry said, “but I would like to ask your permission, Sir. I know I should have asked earlier, but Alice only just invited me.”
“Oh she did, did she?” said Dad, arching his eyebrows at me. “I thought Alice was going to the prom with Christian and Emily.”
“I am, Dad,” I interrupted. “Henry’s just going to drive me there.”
“He is? Do you have a license?”
“Of course, Sir. I want you to know that I respect your daughter and would never take advantage of her, or you.”
Dad peered at us, again speechless, “Well, that’s good to hear.” Then he turned to me, wagging his finger, and stated emphatically, “I want you home by midnight, young lady, understand?”
I nodded.
Dad watched me like a protective papa bear as I walked out the door. I sensed his eyes following us as we made our way down the garden path.
The wind cut through my soft denim jacket as I hurried down the path with Henry toward our waiting chariot. The black and battered truck with a brown tarpaulin covering the contents in back. I wonder what he keeps inside there, burst into my head as he hustled me to the passenger side.
Henry smiled at me and opened the door for me to climb in. Ahhh. . .warm and toasty inside; a nice contrast to take the edge off the chilly October wind. Henry was always considerate and gentlemanly like that.
“Your father seems most gracious,” said Henry. “He is also strong and direct. I like that, admirable qualities in a man.”
“He is?” While I, too, admired many qualities of my dad’s, no guy I’d ever dated before had seemed to take much notice of him.
“I have met many fathers during my years, Alice. Believe me when I tell you he is one of the good ones.”
I fell silent, pondering his words. If he had met a lot of fathers, that could only mean he’d dated a lot of daughters. “I guess,” I said, trying to mask my curiosity but failing miserably. “So, uh. . .you’ve dated a lot?”
Henry smiled and looked over at me, with a coy expression on his face. “As we have previously discussed, I have spent many years here, Alice. A young man has to find a way to kill the time, does he not? Loneliness can be a thing most dreadful.”
The homecoming parade started on Alvarado Street, in the old town of Monterey, and the procession then weaved through Main Street and ended up at the high school.
Over the last couple days, the school gym had been converted into a dance floor, where the main party would be held.
Henry parked his truck outside the school gates, and we walked to the gym. Inside, the building was decorated with red, white and blue balloons and was about a quarter full, with a few teachers and students already milling around, waiting for the procession of Homecoming King and Queen to arrive from the parade in town. A large table in the corner was topped with a punch bowl, and some of my teachers were chatting there.
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