by Jody Klaire
“What makes you think I’m gonna holler at you?” The humor in her voice had vanished.
I could almost see her, five-foot nothing and standing there with her arms folded and her short white hair bobbing on top of her head.
I missed her. I really missed her.
“Everybody else has, why wouldn’t you?” I closed up the violin case. “I did what I had to and paid the price for it. I made the right decision.”
“This about that firecracker of a blonde?” I could feel the breeze ripple across the room, as though Nan was strutting over to a rocking chair in the corner. A second later it moved as if somebody was sitting there.
“Ain’t it?” I took up a seat on the sofa, adjacent to her. I knew I couldn’t see her but if I tried real hard, I could picture her sitting with her knitting or maybe fixing this or that. She was always busy.
“In part. Here’s the deal, Shorty. What you did for her was so brave an’ true that I been beaming with pride ’bout it.”
Felt good to hear. At least someone was proud. Only, it made me miss her even more.
“Thing is, what you did kinda hurt you. That’s what happens when you do something somebody ain’t asked for.”
“So it’s a punishment?” Great. Help somebody out and get a ticking off from . . . well . . . who or whatever controlled things.
“You kiddin’ me? You think love and goodness go punishing folks for helping?” She sounded disgusted. Nan had been a real spiritual sort. I was pretty sure that going wherever she was couldn’t change that.
“That’s what it feels like.”
“Reason why is when you go fixing folks who haven’t asked, you end up taking on more than you can handle.” The rocker moved a little slower, like it used to when she was thinking. “If somebody asks you. They are focused on what it is. That way you only take what is ailing them.”
“An’ when they don’t?”
Nan sighed. “You do what you did, which is go lookin’ for every hurt they got.” The chair moved a little faster. “You ain’t meant to carry the weight of the world on them big ol’ shoulders of yours. We had someone pretty incredible who did all that already.”
“You gonna start throwing Bibles at me again?” I was half-teasing. All good was a welcome topic in my eyes. If folks were set on salvation, peace, love, or being kind to everybody else then I was on board.
“I should, maybe you’d find solace in it.” She clicked her tongue. I swore I could hear a knitting needle so maybe it was that. “Come to think of it. I’m gonna ask your mom to send that priest here and help you out.”
“Nan, I ain’t sure he would want to hang out with me.”
“The guy you met in that hole,” Nan said as if dismissing my worries. “The guy who helped you think on the armor.” She stopped rocking. “If you ain’t noticed, all your gifts have faded. You need to ground yourself and get rid of all that negativity.”
I groaned out loud. “Can’t I just stand under the shower or somethin’?”
“You want to keep on feeling like a bear sat on your hind?”
Odd image but apt. “No.”
“Then try listening, Shorty, ’cause I ain’t foolin’ around. You nearly got yourself in real trouble.”
She didn’t need to tell me. I’d lived through what happened to Renee. Not real pleasant.
“If you’d touched somebody after you saw that sheriff, you could have done a lot of damage.”
He’d had some stomach thing that was killing him. I hadn’t meant to take it away. I was fixing his knee. “But he asked.”
“No, he didn’t. He didn’t know what you were.”
“And what am I?” I knew I sounded testy but I was trying to help folks not butcher them and I doubted Sam was dealing with this much crap.
“A good person who don’t want to hurt nobody. I know you were panicking when you hit Sam. I don’t blame you, but you hurt somebody and that’s why the decision’s been made.”
I sat forward. It was hard to glare at thin air. “Decision?”
“Yup. You ain’t getting your gifts back until you understand what it’s like to live without them.”
Now, you’d think I’d be livid at such a thing but I grinned from ear to ear. “I ain’t burdened with them no more?”
“You smile now but you’ll start understanding why so many folks struggle.” She sighed. “You need to remember that it ain’t a punishment. Somebody really loves you and they want you to succeed.”
If that was the case, where had they been all my life? “Why do I need to talk to the priest guy if I ain’t got a problem no more?” To me it was a problem. If I didn’t know what was hurting people then I didn’t have to do nothing about it.
“You still got to live with yourself.” Nan sounded tired. “Shorty, I’ll see you when you figure it out but until then, it ain’t gonna be easy for us to talk.”
“Why?” That didn’t sound fair. “Nan, you’re the only one I get.”
“An’ I’m not wandering around the place. If you ain’t got gifts, you won’t know I’m here.” With that the breeze faded, the chair stopped as if she’d never sat there, and I felt more alone than I wanted to admit.
Having Nan was the sole thing that gave me courage. It was the good that came out of feeling stuff I didn’t want to. I rubbed my hand over my face. She’d sounded tired so maybe it was a good thing she had a break. I couldn’t be tempted to call on her now.
No burdens.
I grinned.
No ghosts, no visions, no feeling what folks did, no hurting when they did, no danger of hurting somebody when I didn’t know what I was doing.
Punishment? It was the best news I’d had . . . well . . . ever.
Chapter 9
THE NEXT MORNING, I bounced over to the main offices of CIG, casting a happy wave at the lady behind the desk. She gave me a look that said, “I ain’t got a clue who you are so why you waving at me?”
I widened my smile, answering her look with my best, “why do you have to know me? It’s a beautiful day.”
She didn’t seem full of the joys and eyed me like I might kidnap her.
“Is the boss in?” I asked, not caring that she was glaring at me.
“You mean General Frei?” A bit hoity-toity but I’d go with it.
“Yeah, the one with the blonde spiky hair and the coolest shades you’ve ever seen.”
Now she was curious. Funny how I could still read her body language even when I couldn’t read her emotions. “Do you have an appointment?”
You’d think the CIG uniform would have given her a clue. “I don’t need one. She in or not?”
“Look, I think you’ll have to—”
“Lorelei,” I grunted. “You want to see my birth certificate or what?” I pointed to my face. “You can’t miss the resemblance.”
The woman eyed me for a moment and two guards appeared behind me. A second later Frei strode down a staircase off to the left.
“You got the bikes ready?” she asked the receptionist, ignoring the fact the guards looked about ready to haul me off someplace.
If they thought they were getting me anywhere near a cell, they were gonna find it painful trying.
“She’s Lilia’s daughter.” Frei’s curt tone made everybody relax, apart from me. “Bikes?”
The receptionist cocked her head then shook it like I was some naughty child. “Yes, they are outside. Try wearing your name badge next time.”
I scowled down at her. “I told you my name.”
“Then try writing your mother’s name on it. At least it would be useful then.” She flicked her hair back as if to say, “deal with it.”
Like I was putting up with that. “You mean like you, sitting punching numbers into a computer all day?”
Frei shoved me by the arm out of the door. “You have a great way of making friends.”
“She started it.”
“She’s a Harvard graduate with three degrees, math, medical sciences,
and engineering.” Frei strode on down the road. I followed after her. “She lost both legs in an automobile accident and her own promising military career.” She rounded a corner, leading us down an alley. “She also lost her husband in the same accident.”
Okay, so I wasn’t so mad at her anymore. “All I did was grin at her and say hi.”
“And I’m saying that you could have gone in there with a million dollars and chocolate but she would still act the same.” Frei led us over to two very cool-looking motorcycles. “You’re not going to win the bitch of the year contest with her. She’s had fifteen years to perfect it.”
“You tried?”
Frei shot me a grin, sliding on her trademark aviators. “One competition I was happy to lose.”
She tapped the bikes. “These are Harley Davidson Breakouts. Pure perfection on wheels. A twin cam 110B engine. An Electronic Sequential Port Fuel Injection and Electronic Throttle Control. It has a 6-speed Cruise Drive transition.”
She’d lost me. To me it looked like a cool bike, big black with chrome on it.
“It’s a soft tail,” she said as if that would clear things up.
It didn’t. I couldn’t even see a tail.
“In other words, it rides like it looks.”
Why that made me drool, I had no idea.
“Good, you’re with me.” Frei slung her leg over one and slipped on her full face helmet. She pulled a leather jacket from the seat behind her and slid it on. “You getting on or drooling at me, Lorelei.”
“Kinda a bit of both,” I mumbled, attempting to get on the second bike with some kind of grace. I’d ridden dirt bikes before but never anything like this. Frei handed me a helmet and tapped the seat behind me to alert me to the leather jacket.
“Am I getting lessons in how to look cool or somethin’?”
Frei pressed the side of her helmet and the glass slid up. “You’re getting lessons in how to ride. Both cold and hot weather. We’ll head out down the mountain so you can learn to handle any condition.” She held my gaze with an unyielding one. “You know bikes pretty well. You look better on a bike. So this week, I’m teaching you how to act like you look.”
“Which is?”
Frei pressed the button again and her visor slid back down. “Badass, Lorelei. Badass.”
I heard her voice in my ear and jumped. It was crackly just like when Renee had talked to me on the helicopter. I listened as she ran me through how to ride the thing. A dirt bike didn’t have this kind of power. I turned the key and felt it rumble into life.
I was in love.
“You’ll thank me even more when we hit the open road.” Frei led us out of the parking lot and onto the street. Folks cast admiring glances as we roared past. I made the decision that I could get used to travelling on a bike everywhere.
“How come Renee ain’t with us?” I asked. When we did anything, it was the three of us.
“She doesn’t like bikes.”
“This another of those perspective things again?”
Frei kept alongside me. It felt kinda good to know she was taking the time out to help me. She was head of the whole base, a general, she had better things to do.
“Renee gets freaked out. If she catches you riding one, she’ll more than likely lecture you.” Frei’s bored tone told me that Renee had lectured her a fair amount.
“Why does that make me like it even more?” I asked. It was a dumb reaction, I was sure. A rebellion maybe, I didn’t know.
“Because you get it.” Frei roared her bike as we left the main drag. I opened the throttle, rumbling off after her. “When you’re on the road, you’re free.”
I’d not felt like this since I was a kid. Free. I did get that.
Yeah, free.
Chapter 10
THE CEILING FAN whirred overhead with lazy long swoops of the wide blades. The ceiling was dark wood slats reminding Renee of a sauna as she stared up at it from her position in the booth. A dimly lit sauna where people were dressed and they had alcohol.
She giggled. Maybe she was a little bit under the influence of said liquor.
It was Ewan Fitzpatrick’s fault. Yup. He was one of the team in the investigative arm of CIG. A fine agent, a big jock, with a smooth Texan twang. At least sometimes. In fact, she didn’t know where he was from originally but she doubted it was Texas. The wonders of working incognito.
Anyway, the lug was responsible for dragging her sorry butt into the slatted, sauna-esque dive of a bar that the CIG lovingly called Dusty’s.
Boy, they were so original.
“Renee, you want another?” Fitzpatrick asked.
Renee dropped her head downward to focus on him. Why he was all wavy she didn’t know but it gave her the hiccups.
“Why not?”
Fitzpatrick shot her a dashing grin. It was the same old routine. He’d try and get her drunk enough to find him attractive and they’d both wind up asleep in the booth they sat in. They could have changed it up a bit, you know, like sit in another booth but why bother.
It was too hot to bother.
Fitzpatrick staggered off to the bar. Renee felt a breeze tickle her arms and chuckled at it before turning to see a small woman with short white hair grinning at her.
Renee grinned back, wondering why she could see her but couldn’t actually see her. It was weird. She looked a bit transparent in parts and every time she moved she faded. Renee stared down at her glass. Clearly it was good stuff.
“Well, Blondie, hope you like headaches ’cause the way you’re knocking them back, it’s gonna stay awhile.”
Renee attempted to cock her head. She twinged a muscle in her neck at the floppy-doll movement. “Nan?”
“One in the same. I ain’t got all day to sit around in a bar so listen up.”
Renee leaned in to do so, slipping off her hand and thwacking her head on the table. That was going to hurt tomorrow.
A shot of cold air along her spine made her snap her head up. Nan laughed as she twinged her back.
“Darlin’, you ain’t got the legs to hold your liquor.”
Renee nodded. Nan bounced about before her eyes. So drunk.
“You remember that note I left you?” Nan said, her hazy image frowning at her.
“The one where you told me I was a basket?” Renee giggled. Her ears buzzed.
Nan sighed. “You want me to come back when you’re sober?”
Renee straightened up. Nope. No way. Long dead people were only fun to chat to when inebriated. “Shoot.”
“Shorty has some growin’ to do.” She held up her hand. “In the head before you start worrying.”
Thank goodness for that. It was hard enough trying to buy clothes for her now.
“You remember when I said if you told her how you felt that she’d bolt like her mother?”
Renee knew every single word of the note. She read it . . . a lot . . . okay, so every night. “Yup.”
“I weren’t kiddin’ around. Her grandma and her momma were the same.”
Renee held up her finger, wondering why it looked wavier than Nan. “You’re her grandmother . . . aren’t you?”
“No, I’m her Nan.” Nan reached out and touched her, causing goose bumps to ripple all the way up her arm.
“Where did Lilia’s mother go?” Why was Lilia so hard to say when she was drunk. Lili. Lali. Lily-yah.
“Focus, Blondie.” Nan shot another cold ripple up her back. “My daughter, Bess, had a bit of a free spirit. I raised her good an’ proper . . .” Renee chuckled. Free spirit, that was funny. “ . . . and my brothers were all good men, God rest their souls.”
There were more Loreleis? Ooh, Lorelei was even harder to say. Lor-rell-lees, Lor—
“So, Bess, wherever she may be, left . . .”
Renee nodded realizing that she may just have missed a lot.
“I ain’t seen her here so she’s still walking around causing trouble some place.” Nan narrowed her eyes like she knew Renee was miles away. “Whe
n Lilia did pretty much the same, I started seeing a pattern. An’ Shorty got the same taste for fleeing.”
“I thought Lilia left to join the CIG?” Renee was sure that was noble not fleeing, even if it had hurt Aeron.
“Sure, but when she was a teenager, she was wilder than Bess an’ we ain’t got a clue where she gets it from.” Something in Nan’s eyes said that she wasn’t being one hundred percent truthful.
She had eyes exactly like Aeron’s.
Aeron. Renee went to lean on her fist, missed and smacked her head on the table again.
Yup, that would leave a bruise.
“Although I love learning about you all, I’m guessing you are here to tell me something?” She was impressed how sober that sounded. A bit slurred in places and she was sure that a lot of her s sounds had become “shounds” but it was a great effort.
“Shorty is gonna haul attitude your way but I want you to remember, that no matter what dumb things she does while she’s figuring things out, she cares more for you than anybody else, including herself.”
Renee smiled. It was dopey. She couldn’t help it. “It’s a nice thought, Nan, but—”
“No buts.” Nan placed a non-existent finger over her lips. It tingled. “You got some growing to do yourself. So just bear it in mind. You got that?”
“I’m thirty five.” Renee squinted at her fingers. It was as close to five as she could manage. “I’m all grown.”
“Uh huh.”
Renee tried to fold her arms and missed, punching the edge of the booth. “You don’t think?”
“A grown woman don’t get hammered in a bar. She don’t get all flushed when folks think things of her.”
Renee stared back up at the ceiling. “Don’t you start, I’ve had the ‘get over yourself’ talk from Urs . . . ooo . . . oolah.”
Nan chuckled. “Then consider yourself told. An’ Blondie?”
She could hear Nan’s voice fading and rolled her head to catch a few remaining wavy dots. “She’s a flight risk when mad but she got a good heart. She cares.”
Renee smiled. “Right, no judgment, grow up, don’t tell her anything. Check.”
Somewhere, way over . . . well there, Renee could hear Nan chuckle. She chuckled too, knowing somewhere in her logical mind that she may have just become insane.