"I'm so sorry. I'm sick to my stomach over that but I had to—"
"I'm just messin' with ya," Gina interrupted her with an awkward wink. "I want to thank you for pulling me out of there." Her voice softened, sincerity moistening her eyes.
Erin's neck felt hot and Gina's cracked lips widened to a toothy smile.
"I'd be cooked like a Bavarian sausage by now if you hadn't!" Gina laughed. "What pisses me off is how much of my hair they had to cut off to get the duct tape out!" She coughed and a hoarse rattle sounded in her throat. She held up one bandaged hand to her roughly shorn locks. "Used to be past my shoulders and now I look like a diesel dyke!"
Erin involuntarily snorted at the unexpected reference and felt the heat spread to her ears. She shot an apologetic glance to her mom, who conscientiously stared at her shoes.
"You owe me a beer for the road rash," Gina rasped.
Erin's dad returned with the wheelchair and she reluctantly sat down so her father could maneuver it out the door.
"Thanks for fixing my truck." She craned her neck around while he pushed her down the hospital hallway. Crow's feet at the corners of his eyes seemed deeper than before and he still wore his navy coveralls with grease stains on the sleeves.
"I had to replace those two tires. Slashed right through the sidewalls. It was lucky Gus's had them in stock." He was quiet for a moment. "Your mom and I worry about your job—"
"Dad—" Erin stopped him before they rehashed that old issue. He nodded imperceptibly.
"And I changed the oil."
"Thanks Dad."
Allie trailed behind Erin's mom, who marched ahead of them out the doors and into the parking lot. She carried the small bag with Erin's belongings and a loaf of fresh baked zucchini bread that was still warm. Wrapped in brightly colored cellophane, the baking was topped with a big red Get Well bow. It smelled divine.
Erin's mom ran to fetch their car and her dad helped her into the passenger side of the Tacoma.
"I'm sure I don't need to tell you to drive safe," Erin's dad said when they left.
"Don't worry. I'll take care of her." Allie slid behind the wheel and started the engine. She took an inordinate amount of time adjusting the seat and rear view mirror.
"I can hardly wait to get home and take a shower," Erin declared. "I'm sure I still have soot in my ears and all the little hairs in my nose burned." She held out a gauze-covered arm. "Under this, I look like a boiled chicken! All I smell is smoke and burnt hair—"
"I'm ready to talk." Allie said.
"Oh, your car—" Erin looked at her hands.
"I wanted to—" Allie tried again.
"Listen, I will pay for repairs. I'm sorry about parking it so close to the fire. The hood is all heat blistered by the fire, and the sign came down—"
"I'm not worried about the paint job," Allie interrupted and then backtracked. "What? What about the sign?"
"The nightshift crew visited me last night and told me that the fire guys backed their pumper truck into the sign and it fell onto your car. The big fish crunched right through the sunroof."
"Oh."
Erin tried her lopsided grin but Allie was looking out the front windshield.
"I don't care about the car. I wanted to tell you that I'm ready to talk."
Erin's eyes widened. "You mean talk talk?"
"Yes." A minute passed. "I'll start and the rules are that you are not allowed to laugh, or make fun of me in any way, or I stop." She looked over at Erin, tension straining the corners of her mouth.
"Of course." Erin sat ramrod straight in her seat.
There was another long pause before Allie began. Her voice trembled. "For as long as I can remember, I just knew things. Not big things, just things. Like when I was little, I always knew when my mom would be home. She worked odd hours as a waitress so her shift often changed. I'd be sitting home with my babysitter, watching cartoons or something and I'd turn the TV off, put away my toys and get into my pajamas. It wasn't something I consciously thought about. There was no moment where I was like, oh mom's coming home now and I better get ready. I did it without thinking. I'd sit by the door and a couple of minutes later, she would walk in and say 'Hi sweetie. It must be time to tuck you into bed.' I assumed everyone could tell when their mom was coming home."
Allie waited tentatively for Erin to nod encouragement. "When I grew older, I realized that sometimes I knew what was going to happen right before it did. Most of the time it was only like a two-second warning. I'd be standing there in the kitchen and my focus would totally zoom in on something and I'd think: someone is going to come in and knock that knife off the edge of the counter, right about—NOW. At the point where I got to NOW, someone would come in and knock that knife off the counter and I'd think, wow, why didn't I do something about that? Sometimes they'd get hurt and I'd feel guilty so I started my preventive strategy."
"Preventive strategy? You have a plan?"
"Not really. Yeah, sort of." Allie shrugged noncommittally. "If I feel I need to do something, I do it. If I don't, it nags at me until I do, or until I regret that I didn't. I've been doing it for so long that I don't know if everyone around me is clumsy and I like to pick up after them, or if I really am helping them avoid all those little mishaps throughout the day. Maybe it's obvious and I notice when there's an accident waiting to happen."
"I think it's more than that. Is that what happened when you sent me to the store to buy eggs last night?"
"That was a little bit different. I usually don't get such strong feelings. I didn't know what was happening. I felt that we needed eggs. It was absolutely imperative that you go and get them from the Stop 'N Go right away."
"Well, you were right on with that premonition," Erin said. They arrived in the driveway of their home and Allie turned off the engine but neither made any move to leave the truck.
"After you left, I don't even remember calling Kathy Banks," Allie said. "I only met her the once but I suddenly thought that she was a super nice lady and I should invite her and her husband over for dinner sometime. I needed to call her right that very minute."
Allie opened her door and Erin followed her up onto the doorstep. Fuzzy Fiona greeted them in her usual enthusiastic manner, and spent extra time sniffing Erin's bandages before she allowed them to pass.
"Oh, so now I'm interesting," Erin quipped to the dog. She ruffled the fingers on her good hand through Fiona's fur. The fickle cat was noticeably absent but Erin kept vigilant on her way to the kitchen. She was dying for something cool to drink, and something solid to eat. Opening the refrigerator door, she gaped at the carton of eggs staring back at her from the rear of the middle shelf. She turned a questioning look to Allie, who shrugged without explanation.
"Cheese omelets, it is!" Erin announced, retrieving the nearly full carton, and a package of cheddar. She poured herself a glass of apple juice and downed half of it in a couple of swallows.
Later, thirst and appetite sated, Erin reclined on the couch and rested her head against the pillow. She was tired, but this story intrigued her more. Curled up on the carpet in front of her, Allie turned her back. "I can't have you examining my every expression and interpreting my body language like an interrogator."
"I won't."
"When I was nearly eighteen I started getting headaches," Allie told her. "A horrible pressure builds up in my head and I can barely keep my eyes open. I don't understand what makes it come or what makes it go away. I think it happens when I'm near certain people, or places. Like they give off shock waves or something and I have to get away. If I get too close, I feel like something terrible is going to happen. I feel nausea, and sometimes there are these flashes."
"Flashes? Like visions? Like the day I took you past the bog to Dolores Johnson's house?"
"Yeah, like that, but usually not so intense." Allie took a deep breath. "I wouldn't use the term visions. That's way too dramatic for me. It's more like a flash of lightning with an image. Kind of a quick snapshot.
"
"Okay, flashes."
"This is so hard to talk about." Allie's voice cracked. She drew her knees up to her chest and buried her face. "I've never spoken these words aloud to anyone in my life."
"It's all right," Erin said. She reached over and laid her bandage-wrapped hand over Allie's. There was warmth in her touch. Allie unwound herself but her body remained tense.
"It's usually not so severe. It's mostly an aversion to a certain person or place. Like magnets with similar poles repelling each other. If I don't get away, it becomes a physical pain spreading through my whole body and it makes me want to throw up, so I am motivated to avoid the situation."
Erin threaded her fingers through Allie's and she breathed a long sigh.
"I guess that's why I like animals so much," she said. "I never feel anything weird. They are what they are. If I close my eyes, I imagine I see their energy. They travel around like little glowing fuzz balls of warmth."
"Glowing fuzz balls?"
"I don't have a better description for it," Allie said. "You promised not to laugh at me."
"I'm not laughing. I'm trying to picture what's in your head."
"Fiona is special. She has the warmest glow I've ever known. I had recently gone through a breakup and needed company so I drove down to the Toronto Animal Shelter. This overweight golden retriever with a big plume of a tail nuzzled my hand. She was only six years old but they told me the dog was too old and blind to be adoptable. Her owner had passed away and no one had come forward to take her. As soon as I touched her, I could feel her energy. So open, so trusting, and so happy to be alive. I knew right away that we needed each other. The staff at the shelter didn't know her name, so I called her Fuzzy Fiona."
"You pick interesting names."
"That's a whole other story," Allie grinned like a Cheshire cat and Erin felt her eyelid twitch.
"What about people?"
"People are not so easy. Their energy is so convoluted and frankly, confusing at times." She looked directly into Erin's eyes, stripping her heart bare. "That's what I liked about you when we first met. You were straightforward, honest with your emotions, self confident. You were so terrible at the suave sophisticated approach and it was easy to tell it had never been your thing."
"Yes, I totally embarrassed myself."
"It was adorable how bad you were at it." Allie laughed and Erin returned a sheepish grin. "When I closed my eyes, I imagined you shining like the sun's reflection across water. I knew how you really were inside. I trusted you right from the beginning. There was no deception between us until that day at the bog."
"Until that day." Shame rose like putrid lava from Erin's core. Allie may have forgiven her, but it would be a long time before she forgave herself. This was a solid reminder to make good on her promise.
"You grew up without talking to a single soul about this?" Erin gave a low whistle and Fiona, sprawled at Allie's side, perked up her ears. "That must have been a heavy burden for a kid."
"I tried not to think about it." Allie said. "My foster parents helped me but it took years. We learned that I couldn't make the feelings go away but if I concentrated hard, or distracted myself enough, I could ignore them so they didn't bother me. I thought it was under control and had almost convinced myself I was normal. Until you came along."
"Me?"
"When I met you, it all crashed back. The two-second premonitions, the feelings about people and places I blocked out before. I can't hide when I'm with you. I feel like a satellite receiver and I'm wide open and taking in anything that comes my way. It's been difficult. The headaches and the nightmares I fought so hard to get rid of are back. I can't catch my breath and my life is spinning out of control like when I was ten."
* * *
"What happened when you were ten?" Erin lightly touched her shoulder. Allie's eyes grew dark and she pulled away stiffly.
"My mom died." She rose abruptly and wrapped her arms around herself. "I don't want to talk about it. I have to get ready for work." Fiona nosed Allie's leg and followed her upstairs.
Erin sank back into the couch. She was so tired she decided to forego a much-needed shower in favor of a nap. There were so many layers to Allie and she fell asleep knowing she wanted to discover them all.
Allie's kiss on her cheek awoke her and she was startled to find Wrong-Way Rachel sleeping in the crook behind her knees. The cat's fluffy tail was tucked tightly under her chin and she purred contentedly. Erin froze, so as not to incur any clawed feline wrath. Her throat was still raw and she was relieved to spy the glass of ice cubes Allie had placed on the coffee table. She reached a hand out and tried to hook it over the top of the tumbler without disturbing Rachel. Allie shook her head and moved the glass closer. Erin smiled, popped an ice cube in her mouth and let it melt.
"Your mom's zucchini loaf is in the fridge and I made you Jell-O for later," Allie said. "I'm taking your truck so call if you want. Don't do anything silly today, okay? Just rest." She kissed Erin again and headed out the door, jingling the keys in her hand.
Erin slept until well past noon and was astonished to find the cat still curled up with her when she woke. At some point, Rachel had moved from the crook of her knee to below her chin, and the rumbling purr reverberated against Erin's sore throat. It was strangely soothing to have the warmth of the cat snuggled against her. She edged away, careful not to disturb her. This unexpected good will could only last so long.
"Truce?" she said aloud.
Rachel awoke and languidly stretched herself out, head all the way down to luxurious tail. She yawned lazily and hopped off the couch, landing feather light on her three legs.
CHAPTER NINE
After an awkward shower, keeping bandaged arms dry with elastic strapped plastic bags, Erin was pleased to shake off most of her fatigue. She was almost herself again. Aside from a sore throat and persistent cough, she actually felt pretty good. She grabbed the dog's leash and headed out the door. Some fresh morning air would be perfect for both of them.
Excited to be out, Fiona strained against her leash and Erin trotted behind. Despite her vision impairment, Fiona kept to the center of the sidewalk, not veering right or left except for an occasional sniff at shrubbery. Less than two blocks later, Erin doubled over, wheezing. Her lungs burned like ignited jet fuel. She had not yet caught her breath and was still bent over with elbows on knees when she became aware of car tires pulling alongside the curb. Fiona's body stiffened beside her, ears pricked and nose scenting the air. The dog let out an excited bark and leapt forward, nearly bowling Erin over.
"Easy, easy, dog." Officer Zimmerman's voice. "Are you okay, Erin?"
"Fine," she wheezed, "I'm fine."
"You will do just about anything to get a day off, won't you?" He waited patiently until she was able to breathe normally and straightened up to look at him. By then, Fiona leaned heavily against his leg, tongue lolling out the side of her grinning mouth. She wetly nosed his hand and her tail whipped vigorously. Zimmerman reluctantly patted the dog twice on the top of her head and tucked his hand into his pocket before she could nose him again. She wiggled with glee.
"I don't quite get dogs," he said, backing off a step. "They're always all over me, and they slobber." Fiona took the step with him and lovingly nuzzled her face on his knee.
"Well, dogs get you," she answered. "What are you doing here?"
"I saw Kathy Banks down at the station. She told me what happened last night, and it's all over the local radio. They are calling you a real honest to God superhero."
"Nah, it just happened and I did what I could," she said humbly.
"Kathy also said she talked to your girlfriend. They thought you were likely to do something silly today, and she asked me to check on you. And here you are. Were you seriously out jogging?"
"Uh, it didn't start out that way. I wanted some air and then the dog was excited for a walk and then—"
"You were headed to the Stop 'N Go weren't you? That's miles a
way. Are you trying to kill yourself?"
She breathed in and out, slowly and deliberately, before she looked him in the eye.
"Get in," he said, and her eyebrows shot upward. "But the dog rides here." He jerked the back door open so she could guide Fiona in.
"You don't have a leopard gecko in your pocket, do you?"
"No, Merlin is at home. I'm just happy to see you."
Erin laughed hoarsely, slid in front and buckled up. She edged away from the unyielding angles of the onboard computer's mounting bracket. Behind them, Fiona bounded from one window to the other.
"What the heck happened last night?" He hit the power switch and gave the dog enough room to stick her head into the breeze. Her tongue waggled from the side of her mouth, canine nose happily twitching.
"I guess I went to the Stop 'N Go at the right time." Erin deliberately omitted the part about Allie's premonition sending her to the store. She gave him a condensed version of what happened after she discovered the fire.
"Holy frijoles, Batgirl," he said. "Gina's a bit raw around the edges but she's an exceptionally sweet girl. Who would want to hurt her?"
"I can think of one belligerent old hermit," Erin said through clenched teeth. "He was there last night, and I heard him threaten Gina."
"Who?"
"Old man Gunther Schmidt. He was furious when came to get his granddaughter Lily after Gina caught her shoplifting. I was in the store and he sounded threatening."
"Was she upset about it?"
"No, she seemed more sorry for the guy, but I had a bad feeling about it. He has a blowup at her store and an hour later the place goes up in flames. Coincidence? I don't think so!"
"Did Gina see anything?"
"Gina has been mostly out of it since the fire," she told him. "I tried to talk to her at the hospital, but she was too concussed. I think she was hit with the fire extinguisher because it was missing from its bracket and I'm pretty sure I passed it lying in the back hallway on my way out."
"So, Gunther comes in when Gina is in the washroom, grabs the fire extinguisher, waits and clobbers her. He ties her up with duct tape and traps her in there by wedging the office chair against the doorknob. That's methodical, and sadistic."
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