The Delusion

by Laura Gallier

  I stepped onto the second floor by the library, and a blinding light hit the left side of my face. I shielded my eyes, infused with a sense of calm but also giddy with adrenaline the instant I saw them. Five breathtaking, armor-clad Watchmen in a V formation at the end of the hallway. This time they peered out, not up, staring intently at the oblivious students.

  I took refuge beside a section of lockers and sneaked peeks at the celestial giants, anticipating that at any second they would charge. Not that I was scared of them. I just didn’t want to get in their way. Neither did the Creepers, apparently—there wasn’t a single fiend in sight.

  Minutes later, the bell rang, and the last few students rushed to class. I came out of hiding one slow step at a time, until I stood facing them across the hall, their radiance so powerful I was actually tempted to bow down again, even if it meant triggering a colossal blast.

  Suddenly, it happened. In perfect sync, they strode, covering a massive amount of ground with each step. And they opened their mouths, creating what felt to me like a massive wind tunnel as they blew on the lockers, walls, floors—everything in their path. The rotten graffiti shriveled to dust and disintegrated, disappearing into the whirlwind.

  As if that wasn’t astonishing enough, the Watchmen plunged their humongous hands into the walls, pulling hissing Creepers out of hiding by their necks, arms—whatever. I hightailed it back to my post beside the lockers as they passed by me, all of them clutching at least three Creepers in each fist, dragging them along. The Creepers thrashed like they feared for their immortal lives. Whined like they were begging for mercy.

  The Watchmen made a sharp turn and stormed down the steps, clearing nearly an entire flight of stairs in one stride. My knees were weak, but I managed to follow, watching as they traveled the length of the main downstairs hallway, blasting graffiti into oblivion and snatching more Creepers out of hiding. They stopped at the end of the hall and hurled the life-sucking vipers through a locked set of double doors, out of our school.

  One of the Watchmen turned and faced a stairwell down the hall from me. Just stood there, staring down at . . . what?

  I took careful steps that way, then spotted her. Ashlyn, slouched over on the bottom step, an anguished expression on her face as she tore through her purse, searching for something.

  There was a Creeper behind her, crouched low, as if it could actually hide from the Watchman. “Do it,” I heard the Creeper hiss at her, in perfect English.

  Ashlyn pulled a pill bottle out of her purse and eyed it.

  “Do it!” The Creeper was more forceful this time. Ashlyn popped the lid off the bottle. I approached her at the same time that the Watchman closed in on the Creeper, pinning it against the stairs by its crooked neck.

  Ashlyn looked up at me, and I extended my open hand toward the pill bottle. Her gaze went right back to the pills, longing in her eyes.

  “Those are hurting you,” I said. “Not helping.”

  The Watchman took a big step back, ripping the Creeper off of Ashlyn’s chain as if the links were made of tissue paper. The thing flailed its arms and legs like a dying cockroach as the Watchman chucked him out of the school.

  Ashlyn stood, peering into my face, thinking it was just the two of us in that hallway. I still held my hand out.

  She swallowed hard. “Throw these away for me?” Her eyes pooled. Finally she set the bottle in my hand.

  “I will.”

  I’d suspected it before, but now I was sure: my life’s purpose was to help people. Not just the ones in physical pain but the tons of people hurting on the inside, battling enemies of the soul. Yeah, I had a lot to figure out and learn in order to pull it off, but I was hopeful that if I didn’t give up I’d eventually find answers.

  I had to. Nothing else seemed to matter now.

  I was so jittery that it was hard to sit, but I managed to slide into my fourth-period chair. Ray Anne had replied to my text: I’m not surprised Watchmen are here. Look at the time.

  10:17 a.m.

  So?

  Then I remembered. Mrs. Greiner’s prayer group. Did that somehow commission the Watchmen? I didn’t know, but I didn’t see any more of the warriors that day, or that week.

  I can’t tell you how discouraging it was to watch the Creepers steadily reemerge, staining my school all over again, desecrating the place with their hatred and degrading words.

  I needed something to take my mind off things, and I found it. It was finally time to see Ray Anne in that little red dress.

  TWENTY-NINE

  MY MOM SAID I LOOKED like a million bucks in my tuxedo. I had to agree.

  For just a moment, I felt like a normal eighteen-year-old. Yeah, my mother’s chains scraped the pavement as she hurried up Ray Anne’s driveway beside me, handing me the corsage box. But still, I was about to experience a time-honored American tradition. I would knock on the door and check out my prom date. Nothing paranormal about that.

  I have to say, the sight of Ray Anne in that red sequined dress did not disappoint. I forced my eyes away several times, unable to shake the paranoia that her father could see right through me. Man, she looked amazing. And her perfume was working its magic on me.

  All the parents took a million pictures. My mom got teary eyed—a little awkward—but so did Ray Anne’s parents. Mrs. Greiner’s tears spilled over.

  Finally the camera flashes stopped, and my date and I could go be alone.

  My mom had agreed to let me rent a brand-new Camaro for the night, especially after I rubbed it in that it was her idea that I go to prom with Ray Anne. I’d placed a long-stemmed red rose on the passenger seat. I opened the door for Ray Anne, and she blushed.

  “Red’s my favorite color.” She inhaled the scent of the petals.

  I studied the curves of her body in that fitted dress and eyed her matching high heels. “Mine too.” I drove to the end of the street, then stared at her again. “You look stunning, Ray.”

  She gasped. “You just called me Ray.”

  “Yeah?”

  Her smile grew at the same time that her eyes became glossy. “That’s what Lucas used to call me.”

  “Oh. Well, if you don’t want—”

  “I love it.” She rested her hand over mine and smiled bigger. Seemed to me she was having just as hard a time taking her eyes off me as I was her.

  We met up with some other couples for dinner—a few of Ray Anne’s friends—and that went fine. I’d learned how to enjoy a meal even with Creeper funk wafting in my direction.

  By the time I paid our bill and we left, the sun was setting, making the sky a breathtaking collage of oranges and yellows and pinks. It’s not like me to notice that sort of thing, but I’ve heard that the mundane becomes exquisite when you’re falling in love.

  As we drove toward the swank hotel for prom, I really wanted to skip out on the high school scene and do something else entirely, just Ray Anne and me. I figured she’d hate the idea, but I probed just in case.

  “So, you’re really looking forward to this, right?”

  “Um, yeah. I guess so.”

  “You want to go, don’t you?”

  She sighed. “Well, honestly, I’ve never cared much about prom.”

  Looked like things just might go my way.

  “My friends have dreamed about it their whole lives,” she said, “but not me. This night actually means a lot more to my mom than me.”

  Just the open door I needed. “So what if we ditch the plan, Ray Anne? Do something else?”

  “Like what?”

  We were both smiling now, energized by spontaneity.

  “I have an idea,” I said. “I just need to stop off at a store for a second, okay?”

  “Um, sure . . .” She got her cell out. “But what are we doing? My parents will kill me if I don’t tell them where I am.”

  “Well . . . I was hoping to surprise you.”

  Ray Anne eyed her cell but didn’t press any buttons. She bit her bottom lip. “You’ll s
till have me home by 1:00 a.m.?”

  “Of course.”

  After a minute, she sighed and put her cell away. I got the feeling this was the most rebellious thing she’d ever done in her entire life. “Okay, surprise me.” Now she was grinning just as big as I was.

  A lot of girls would’ve nagged and tried to wear me down so I’d give up the surprise, but not Ray Anne. She wasn’t the type that had to be in control all the time—one of many things I loved about her.

  I parked at a hole-in-the-wall grocery store. “You want to stay in the car? We’re slightly overdressed.”

  “Who cares? I’m coming.”

  I managed to push our grocery cart even though it had a wheel that wouldn’t spin and kept pulling to the right. Someone snapped a picture of us. “Say cheese,” the lady said. Ray Anne held up a block of mozzarella.

  She stopped off at the makeup aisle, and I grabbed a few things without her seeing—a package of strawberries, some Hershey’s chocolate bars, cold drinks. I found a big, rolled-up blanket and threw it in the basket.

  Ray Anne met up with me as I was finishing checking out. She put a plastic sack over her shoulder and walked around like it was her purse. She cracked me up.

  I drove awhile—traveled two towns over—and it was around nine o’clock when we finally parked at our destination. I hadn’t been there in years, but lucky me, it was still there—a colorful, vintage-looking carnival next to a big lake. Lights hung overhead, strung from one ride to the next. A handful of people enjoyed the nightlife and lake view.

  A really cool atmosphere, if you ask me.

  Ray Anne’s face lit up like a child at Christmas. “This is beautiful! How’d you know about this place?”

  “When I was a kid, my mother used to make road trips to Texas to see a friend of hers. She’d bring me here. I have some good memories.”

  I helped Ray Anne onto the mermaid-themed merry-go-round, and she sat with both feet on one side of a giant seahorse. I stood and held on to her waist—you know, in case she started to fall or something. Cool air blew off the water, fanning the wisps of hair framing Ray Anne’s face. I gave up on trying not to stare.

  I was more leery of getting on the rusty Ferris wheel than she was, but I sucked it up. I didn’t want to ruin the moment by saying how freaky it was to look down from way up there and see Creepers scattered among the people, so I kept it to myself. I also didn’t mention that the toothless man operating the ride was linked to a Creeper named Insanity.

  We survived the ride, and after a few more, made our way back to the car, talking the whole time. I drove us farther down the lakeside road until there were no more lights or people, then found a place to park and spread my new blanket near the water. It took Ray Anne a few minutes to relax, but she finally slipped off her high heels and sat by me.

  This wasn’t exactly a tropical paradise, but the lake looked spectacular at night, moonlight rippling across the surface. Ray Anne cast a soft, golden glow onto our blanket—and I let out a belly laugh. I hadn’t realized the blanket had the Run-N-Go grocery store logo imprinted across the front—a smiling shopping cart with huge pink tennis shoes.

  We munched on strawberries and chocolate and laughed about all kinds of things, but after a while, the conversation got deeper. She asked me questions about my childhood.

  “My mom has issues.”

  She shrugged. “Whose doesn’t?”

  I crumpled an empty wrapper, and then surprised myself by opening up way more than I ever had. With anyone. “My mom drinks all the time. Every day. For as long as I can remember.”

  Ray Anne got really still. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

  “Yeah.” I exhaled, hoping to seem relaxed. “She does the double-life thing pretty well.”

  Ray Anne cleared her throat. Looked up at the moon. “My parents do too.”

  “No way.” Of all people.

  “Their marriage has been falling apart ever since my brother died, but they refuse to get help. It’s like they dread admitting we’re not perfect.”

  I’d somehow come to believe they were. “I guess Lights struggle too sometimes.”

  “Of course,” she said.

  I think she meant to bring up something positive next, but . . .

  “So, why did you move to Texas?”

  This one was under lock and key. Way too personal.

  She obviously sensed my reluctance. “Is it hard to talk about?”

  I nodded, trying to think of a way to change the subject. But she was too fast.

  “Something with your mom?”

  I nodded again, my defenses steadily giving way to a growing sense of vulnerability that I fully intended to squash.

  “You can tell me.”

  Don’t ask me how, but she had a way of begging with her eyes. I tried to avoid them, but in the silence, the situation grew more intense until I found myself giving in. For months, I’d refused to think about the night my mom and I left Boston, so it took a while for me to get going. I spoke slowly.

  “It was Christmas Eve, and no surprise, my mom’s boyfriend was wasted. The whole time Tim lived with us, I’d hardly ever seen him sober. I overheard him arguing upstairs with my mom—nothing new either. But then there was this loud . . . thump, like something had slammed the wall. I ran upstairs—”

  I had to pause my story. Force my emotions into submission.

  “I opened the door, and Tim was . . . he was choking my mother. Her face was blue. She was dying on the floor, right in front of me.”

  Ray Anne covered her mouth.

  “I saw Tim’s gun on the nightstand. And I—I grabbed it. Then aimed it at him.”

  I felt myself breathing hard, fury rising up in me just talking about it.

  “If he hadn’t let her go, I would have had no choice but to shoot him.” I looked her in the face. “And I know I would have, Ray Anne.” She was speechless. I didn’t blame her.

  “Tim took off, and we threw our stuff in the car, fast. Emptied the mailbox, then sped away. We spent Christmas Day in a musty hotel. I was sitting there, looking through about a week’s worth of mail, when I came across a big envelope—inside it was a set of keys. To a house. My grandparents’ estate, left to me.”

  Ray Anne wiped her cheek, brushing away a tear, I think. She leaned in. “Owen, you have so much courage.”

  I shrugged, then took a long, deep breath. Out came another majorly personal admission: “Sometimes I wonder what it would be like. If my dad had never left.”

  She searched my face while I stared out at the water. “I feel sorry for him,” she said.

  “Him?” I glared at her. “He’s the one who left us.”

  “And he’s the one who’s missing out on knowing his son. He totally blew it.”

  It’s not that it had never occurred to me to think of it that way—I’d just never been able to convince myself it was true. But it was a nice thing for her to say.

  “Wow.” I swatted grass off our blanket, eager to lighten things up. “I didn’t mean to ruin our night.”

  “Are you kidding me? It’s been unforgettable.”

  Time for a change of pace. I took out my phone and selected a playlist. Yes, I had a collection of slow music—I can admit that.

  Once I had my bow tie off and collar unbuttoned, I stood and reached out to her. “Dance with me.”

  She put her petite hand in mine. I pulled her body close, and my cold stomach did a flip. She rested her head on my chest, and I inhaled the sweet vanilla of her hair. Just like that, my sad stories faded away, back into the recesses of my mind.

  She smiled up at me. “Did you purposely play this song?”

  “I didn’t.”

  A 1980s classic, “Lady in Red,” had come up first on my playlist. It really was a coincidence.

  We swayed back and forth next to the glistening water, my hands resting on her lower back, her warm arms wrapped around my neck. It was like the moon was shining just for us. Like the stars aligned s
o that we’d be there, at that very moment.

  I didn’t think it could happen like this—not this fast. But I’d totally fallen for her. My heart belonged to her, whether she’d intended to capture it or not.

  I looked down at her, and she tucked her head like she was feeling shy. She started to say something, then stopped, then started to say something else, but stopped again.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m sorry.” She loosened her embrace. “It’s . . . I can’t find the words.”

  “You?” I leaned back and gazed into her face. “It’s okay, Ray Anne.” We were barely moving now. I ran my fingers over the back of her neck, then lifted her chin. “Just tell me.”

  She exhaled slowly, like she was nervous. “I guess I didn’t realize when we blew off prom that we’d end up alone in such a . . . well, a place this romantic.”

  “So?” I stared at her glossy red lips.

  “I just want to be careful. I love that we’ve become such good friends, but I guess I’m afraid of taking things further.”

  I heard what she said, and I really did care, but I couldn’t resist. I leaned in, desperate to kiss her. But she turned her face and pressed her head to my chest again.

  Crushing rejection.

  It took me a second to regroup. “I’m sorry, Ray. I didn’t mean to—”

  “No, it’s not your fault.” She let go and stepped back. “You didn’t know.”

  “Know what?”

  She crossed her arms. “Look, you can make fun of me all you want. I don’t care.”

  “What? Why would I do that?”

  “’Cause that’s what people do.”

  “Who?”

  “People I’ve told.”

  I pulled her close again. “What are you talking about?”

  She pulled down on my neck, speaking directly in my face. “I’m saving my first kiss for my wedding day, okay? I’ve never kissed anyone.” She let go and tapped her foot. “Go ahead. Start teasing me. I can take it.”

  I hugged her and laughed. “I’m not gonna tease you.”

  “But you think it’s stupid, right? Well, it’s not stupid to me. I’ve made up my mind.”