“I think I just need to let myself be drawn in, like you mentioned a while back. Just let it happen and see where that takes me first. I do have a rough plan, so that should help. Can I try to find her tomorrow after school?” I dreaded the idea of having to either pick Zane up or have him drive me, but I knew there was no way around it. I may as well get used to the idea of having him with me when I went to a Tourist.
“Tomorrow would be wonderful. Zane, will you be able to go with her tomorrow? Please understand that initially, because the Badbeh can’t possibly know she exists yet, she will be in no real danger. I don’t expect you to tag along all the time.” Aunt Lucie was trying to give him an out, and I loved her even more for it.
“No, with all due respect, Lucie, I think it would be unwise to leave her on her own, especially when she is taking on her very first charge. I will get to the ranch early which will allow me to leave whenever Catherine needs to go.” His voice was quite forceful, and I immediately knew nothing anyone could say would move him one inch.
Why did I have to get stuck with the one man on the planet who takes his job so flippin’ seriously?
“Catherine, would you like me to drive? Or would you be more comfortable with that task?”
“I’ll drive. Thanks. I’ll pick you up at around four. That should give me some time to get home and run through my homework first.” There, at least I would be in control of where we were going and how fast we would get there. Truthfully, it didn’t make me feel much better, but what the heck did these days?
“That sounds fine. If you two will excuse me, I need to make sure this is all okay with Professor Dalry, and then I will be on my way home. It was nice seeing you both again. And, Lucie,” Zane turned to my aunt, “I am sorry for being so rude earlier. You are right. I was raised better than that.”
Aunt Lucie acknowledged and accepted his apology with a slight nod and smile.
As soon as I heard the front door shut, I sighed. “He’s gone, finally! Aunt Lucie, how am I supposed to deal with his constant presence when he irritates me so much?” I gave her beseeching look.
“Cat, you’re just going to have to be a grown-up about this and get over it. You both have a job to do, and as unfortunate as you view it, that job requires you to work together.” That was her final thought before she, too, left the room.
I flopped onto the couch and closed my eyes, trying to remember that perfect time before I knew what I did now... I couldn’t see it anymore. I just gave up and lay there until Murphy slapped my feet hard enough to throw them from the cushion.
“King of the couch coming through. Move your lazy butt, Cat.” He picked up the remote and started flipping channels at a rate that made me wonder if he even saw what was on. My feet swung back up and into his lap where I promptly started using my toes to tickle his stomach.
“My butt is not lazy and you are certainly not king of the couch.” Without pause he knocked my feet back down and grunted a “whatever” before settling on ESPN.
Oh well, it was time I got up to eat something anyway. The only meal I had eaten all day was breakfast and the rumbling in my stomach was becoming a gnawing feeling now.
I ate in silence and after headed back upstairs to get ready for bed. No one really bothered me, mainly because they all knew what tomorrow would bring for me. The silence wasn’t as terrible as I figured it would be, and it did allow me to prepare a little more and find the bright spots in my new job. It was still a struggle to find them, but they were beginning to add up.
The minute my head hit the pillow I was asleep, and it was a blissfully quiet sleep with absolutely no dreams.
From the beginning of my day until the final bell, everything was a complete haze of movement. I was sure I had taken a test, and I remembered picking at my lunch, but beyond that, nothing.
I pulled out of my parking spot, waved good-bye to Will and Emma, and made my way home. Mom was waiting at the door for me when I got home and gave me a quick hug before I went to do my homework. I tried to drag my homework out longer than I needed to, but there was no way I would be able to put off my monumental task any longer.
I threw my books back in my bag and grabbed my purse and keys. Straightening and taking a very deep breath, I gathered all my strength and nerve and walked out my bedroom and down the stairs. If I stopped to look at anyone or anything too long, I would lose it, so I just kept my eyes forward and marched with the beat of my heart: hard and fast.
I made it to my car, but as I reached for the handle, the first break in my charade appeared. My hand was shaking. I ignored my body’s response to the stress and took off before I could catalog any more. For the first time as a legal driver, I flew down the dirt roads to the ranch. The speed made me feel calmer, in a reckless way.
From the road, I could see Zane’s faint silhouette and inhaled very deeply. I held the breath for a bit before exhaling. Over the last few days, the part of my head that seemed determined to be close to him had been completely quieted by the severe dislike the rest of me felt for him. This was a good thing; I didn’t need anything interfering with my ability to do what I needed to do, especially some guy.
I pulled up beside him and unlocked the door, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel to display my lack of patience.
“Are you feeling okay? You look a little... unhinged,” he remarked as he closed the door and situated himself in his seat.
“I’m fine.”
That was the extent of our conversation for the thirty-minute drive to Hope. The less we talked the better. I had already done my homework and learned that Ms. Stallings lived in a nursing home, so I had volunteered to begin reading to the seniors there—pretty imaginative, I thought.
We walked into the home, and the smell of stale roses and disinfectant hit my nose immediately. It wasn’t an altogether unpleasant odor but not something I would be able to stand for an extended period of time. I checked in at the desk, explaining that Zane was my boyfriend and he wanted to help out as well. Saying this, or even just thinking it, was enough to make my stomach roll. Now, if I could only figure out if it was out of disgust or attraction.
The nice woman behind the desk gave me the list of residents wishing to be read to, and Lois Stallings was at the top. How convenient. I didn’t want to spend all of my first day here reading to other people.
I found Lois’s room and knocked on the door. I heard a faint voice telling me to come in. Immediately I was assaulted with the unmistakable smell of cleaning solution, stale air, and death. The lights were low, making it difficult to see Ms. Stallings’s small form beneath her covers. Her chest moved in a stunted rhythm as she shifted to get a better look at me. I took my ball cap off and let my hair fall to my shoulders. “Ms. Stallings, my name is Catherine Dalry and I have volunteered to read. You are at the top of my list.” As I said this, I held out my hand to take hers.
“Hello, dear.” Lois’s fragile hand shook mine. “It will be so nice to hear someone else’s voice for a while, and yours sounds like a bird. I’m sorry I can’t see you very well, cataracts.” She pulled me a bit closer to her, so that she could see me better and added, “You’re very pretty, too. You have strange eyes, dear, though nice all the same. I have a book on my table I would like for you to read. Thank you.”
I reached for the book she mentioned—a Harlequin romance from the seventies—and began reading where she had left off. I had intended on trying to plant a thought about a light at the end of a tunnel filled with wonderful emotions rather than following my aunt’s sage advice and holding off on using my biggest talent. After a few minutes of trying to read and forcing myself to imagine what I thought would put my charge at ease, I became frustrated. It felt too contrived and forced. Taking a couple of deep breaths, I continued to read, deciding I would wait until I was done to see if she was receptive to my brand of help.
As I
finished reading the book for her, she turned to look at me, and this time I was prepared with my thought. I filled it with loving, wonderful feelings and the images of her past when she seemed her happiest. I hoped that they would grow, so that when the next step came, she would be more at ease with her path.
She smiled and sighed. “I knew you were something special, dear. Thank you.” She grabbed my hand and held it for a brief moment. I could feel her comfort and her joy course through her hand to mine. She was beginning to find peace.
“Ahem... Catherine, so sorry to interrupt but it’s getting rather late, and I promised your dad you wouldn’t be too long.” Offering his hand to shake, Zane said, “Hello, Ms. Stallings, my name is Zane, Catherine’s boyfriend.” Even he had a hard time getting that word past his teeth.
“Hello.” Lois patted his hand. “You take care of this girl. She’s very special. Catherine, will you read to me again tomorrow night?” Her voice was almost a whisper now. She seemed so tired.
“Of course, Ms. Stallings,” I replied.
“No more Ms. anything, my name is Lois. Thank you again, dear.” She closed her eyes, and I took that as my sign to leave.
The ride home was a little more comfortable, but Zane and I still didn’t talk much. I seemed to have a perma-grin on my face, a leftover of my time with Lois. Helping her had left me feeling euphoric, or at least how I figured euphoria must feel. It was a light, swirly feeling, like a bubble on the breeze. I hoped that this would be the feeling I had after every encounter with a Tourist.
Deep in thought, I was surprised when we pulled up to Zane’s truck at the ranch. I had let him drive back because I had felt a little tired, or maybe the right word was drained. It struck me that the bubbly feeling from before wasn’t quite as strong, and the weaker it became, the weaker I felt.
“Thank you for driving back, Zane. I will need to go tomorrow at the same time. I’ll drive.” I assumed my politeness was a product of my lack of energy.
“You’re welcome. I will look for you at the same time tomorrow.” His tone seemed almost as polite as mine. As soon as he shut the door, he leaned back in. “Be careful on your way home, ki-... Catherine.” His hand tapped the top of my car once before he turned with his hands now firmly in his pockets and began walking away.
I made it home and immediately went to my room, opening my door just wide enough to grab the pajamas that hung from the back of my door. I trudged the few feet to the bathroom, barely able to keep my eyes open. No shower tonight, just change and brush my teeth. I was soon sliding under the covers of my bed and fell asleep in record time.
A dream began taking shape as soon as I closed my eyes, but it had a strange familiarity, and for a moment, I thought I must have dreamt the drive home.
I was back at the nursing home standing by Lois Stallings’s bed, looking at her as she looked at me. She seemed completely at peace but would not break from my gaze. In that instant, I felt that wonderful euphoric feeling return, but it was amplified one hundred times like a bubble expanding. I was aware that everything that had been surrounding us two seconds before was gone, and there was just Lois and me surrounded by the brightest, most magnificent whiteness I had ever seen. Instinctively, I reached for her hand and told her she was safe. She smiled as she put her hand in mine, and without saying anything, I knew there were no strings or fears connecting her to the world anymore. She was ready to be at peace with herself and follow her path to the end. As she let go of my hand, the feeling that I had began to fade in intensity but didn’t leave me completely, and then there was nothing but the still quiet of the night.
It was the most amazing and realistic dream I had ever had. I realized slowly as the darkness enveloped me that I was even more exhausted than before, but I wasn’t bitter about that. I would try very hard to remember everything, so that I could ask Aunt Lucie about it tomorrow.
I felt awful as I shut off my alarm. My head felt too full and my body felt as heavy as an anvil. Every step took incredible effort, and I wanted to crawl back under my cozy covers and snuggle in for a nice rest. Muddling through my morning, I managed a good-bye to my mom before walking out the door to my car. I hadn’t realized until she came running out of the house, screaming at the top of her lungs, that I had forgotten my one necessary accessory... the hat. I slapped it on my head and backed out of the drive, barely missing our mailbox.
By the time I got to school, I felt like death warmed over, and my first period teacher, Mr. Hartman, thought I looked the part as well. He promptly sent me to the nurse’s office, and she called my mom, who didn’t answer the phone. The next number on the list was my dad who said he would send Aunt Lucie to come and get me.
“Cat, are you feeling okay?” she asked.
“I didn’t sleep much last night; I think I’m just tired. Working with Lois Stallings left me exhausted, and then when I got in bed I had a dream that she died. In my dream I finished my task by helping her follow her path into the light.” Half of my words were slurred, but she understood of my ramblings.
“You said you dreamed about helping her cross over?” Her look was more sympathetic than alarmed, but her voice was shouting that something was wrong.
“Yeah, why? Isn’t that normal?”
“Well, no, honey, it’s anything but normal. Most Guides after helping someone for the first time are exhausted and simply go to sleep. Let me ask a few questions.” By this time, we were sitting in her driveway, and I could barely hold my eyes open. I did, however, notice the truck sitting at the curb outside my aunt’s house. I let Aunt Lucie continue without mentioning the truck. “Did the dream feel real, like you could smell the room the way you had when you were actually there?”
“Mm-hmm.” I nodded, noticing this time the man walking toward my aunt’s car, but my eyes were so blurry with sleep that I couldn’t make out who it was.
“Catherine Aislin, I need you to listen to me. You weren’t dreaming. I believe you were projecting yourself to this woman because her time to pass came when you couldn’t physically be there to help. I have a similar ability, but I only project myself in their dreams so it feels like a dream to me as well. I will call the nursing home to confirm my suspicions, but I can assure you Guides do not dream about their Tourists after helping them. This would also explain why you seem so completely drained. Until you learn how to harness your inner energy, helping your charges will exhaust you. Your gifts never cease to amaze and confuse me.”
I nodded again but was simply too tired to be as freakishly alarmed as she was. It was then that the man I had seen approaching tapped on Aunt Lucie’s window.
“Mr. Laroche, what are you doing here?” my aunt squeaked.
“What the hell is wrong with Catherine? I’ve been driving around all morning like a madman trying to find her. I woke up in the middle of the night with a feeling that something was very wrong. Can you please oblige me, and tell me what is going on?” His frantic words caught me off guard, and for half a second I felt completely awake.
“If you would kindly calm down, I will tell you everything I know, then you must let me get her to bed. She is, quite obviously, exhausted.” Zane’s breathing became a little more stable.
“Can I carry her into the house for you? She doesn’t look capable of walking without hurting both of you,” he offered.
“That would be very kind of you, Zane.” Aunt Lucie opened the door for him, and I felt his arms slide beneath me and lift me out. I didn’t have the energy to protest, so I tried to hold myself as far from him as I could, not sure if I was at all successful.
Aunt Lucie directed Zane up the stairs to the spare bedroom, and he laid me on the bed.
Who knew Mr. LaButthead could be so gentle?
My aunt went back downstairs, reciting her list of immediate “to do’s” aloud: “Call Moira so that she doesn’t fuss when Cat doesn’t come home, ca
ll the nursing home... what was the name... Stallings, yes I think that’s right.” The list continued, and I listened intently for a bit, noting that Zane had not left the room. On the contrary, he had sat in the only chair there and had placed it between the bed and the door. He stared at me until my eyes fell shut. I was temporarily closed for business, my wish for unconsciousness finally fulfilled.
Throughout the day, I cycled between deep, restful sleep and the most amazing and confounding dream I had ever had. Amazing, because I was there with a man that filled my head and heart with a yearning I had only felt faintly before. Confounding, because the man in my dream and the man that had caused those faint feelings were, in reality, the same. Zane. Part of me loathed having these emotions and this dream, but my subconscious had no desire to end it. I relished the fluttery feelings his presence encouraged. Clearly, my subconscious mind was insane.
He cradled me in his arms effortlessly and set me down on my feet, never letting his hand stray from mine. After staring into my eyes for what seemed an eternity, he began kissing me from my forehead to my lips. His mouth was smooth and firm. I melted into him more with each kiss. He whispered to me, but I couldn’t hear him over the heavy beat of my heart. With each touch, my breath hitched until I thought I might faint. What were all these feelings flooding my overanxious body?
I was perfectly happy to let it continue, but something in the real world began gnawing away at the edges of my bliss/insanity until it was gone, and my lids began to blink open.
A Banshee's Tale Page 11