by Sharon Sala
“On another note, did you see the new guy?” Penny asked.
“You mean Dracula’s spawn?” Mac asked, and then giggled.
Nikki frowned. “Guys . . . seriously?”
Penny sighed. “Okay . . . live and let live. To each his own. Whatever floats your boat. Is that apology enough?”
Nikki shrugged. “We don’t make fun of people and we don’t bully.”
Mac shrugged. “Well, I seriously doubt anyone is bullying that guy. Did you see how tall he was? And all those black clothes, even a black poncho? OMG! Anyone with a Dracula fetish? Have I got a dude for you?”
Tara hid a grin by taking a bite of her burger. She was chewing and dunking a fry in ketchup when her inner self said look up now. So she did, straight into the forbidding gaze of French Langdon.
He was sitting at the table right in front of her, staring at her over Nikki’s shoulder. She started to smile. After all, they’d already almost met, and he had saved her from a nasty spill, but the moment he knew he’d been caught, he stood up and walked away.
Tara frowned. That was weird, but then so was French Langdon. Whatever. She poked the fry into her mouth and tuned back into what the girls were saying.
“So, can you come?” Nikki asked.
Tara blinked. “Come where?”
“To the slumber party at my house Saturday night? It’s my birthday and Mom and Dad said I could invite three girls.”
Tara was so surprised she almost choked, then took a drink to clear her throat. “You’re asking me to a slumber party?”
Nikki frowned. “Well, yeah. What’s so surprising about that?”
Tara grinned. “I’ve never been to a slumber party before.”
“You’re kidding. Why not?”
Tara shrugged. “Never lived in one place long enough to make friends who asked.”
Nikki laughed and then high-fived her. “Girl, you do have some life left to live. Do you think your uncle will let you come?”
“Yes, he won’t care. OMG, this is amazing. I am so stoked,” Tara said, and then dunked a fry in the ketchup and popped it in her mouth to celebrate.
“So. My house Saturday at 3:00 p.m. No presents. The party is my present, okay?” Nikki said.
“Deal,” the girls said.
“Deal,” Tara echoed, then asked. “Uh . . . so Nikki?”
“Yeah?”
“What do we do at slumber parties?”
“Eat, stay up all night, watch mushy movies, paint our nails, talk about people we don’t like and hot boys.”
Tara grinned. “I can do that.”
“This is going to be the best slumber party ever,” Nikki said.
The bell rang.
Everyone still in the lunchroom started scrambling, dumping their scraps and trays and heading for the next class.
The rest of the day passed without incident. Prissy was noticeably absent in the halls, and French Langdon seemed to be missing in action, too, but Tara hadn’t given them another thought. She was too focused on telling her uncle Pat about the invitation and wondering what was happening with Flynn.
Tara had supper all ready to eat, but Uncle Pat was late. Then he called to tell her there was a big water-main break just off Main Street and they’d roped in some extra help, including him. It left Tara with time on her hands and a guilty conscience she had yet to address.
Twirp him, Tara.
Tara sighed. “Not Twirp—it’s Tweet, and it’s still not the right contact. I need to text.”
Tex? Isn’t that a state?
Tara laughed. “You’re thinking of Texas, not text, and before you ask another question, I’m going to contact him. Now.”
Be gentle. Henry says he’s been crying a lot.
Tears welled. “I didn’t help make him feel any better.”
So now you will.
Tara’s shoulders slumped. “I will try.”
She picked up her phone, linked to her contact list, and then hesitated a few moments, trying to figure out what to say then realized there was only one thing to say to Flynn.
I’m sorry.
She hit Send, then sat motionless, staring at the screen and praying for an answer.
The house grew so quiet she lost touch with the outside world. She could hear a clock ticking. The scent of macaroni and cheese she’d made for supper was in the air, but the thought of food in her stomach made her sick. She closed her eyes, willing her thoughts to Flynn, wishing he was able to hear her as easily as she connected with him. The tears in her eyes were welling faster and faster until they spilled over. Just as she broke out into an all-out sob, her phone signaled a text.
Shakily, she swiped at the tears on her face before she pulled up the text.
Me too.
Tara answered instantly.
Don’t be mad. I can’t stand it.
She hit Send. The answer came back just as fast.
I scared you. I understand.
Tara started smiling through tears.
I saw you. I saw all of it.
Flynn’s answer said it all.
Wow. I get it.
Tara sighed as she typed and hit Send.
Watch your Mom. Watch your back.
There was a pause before he answered.
Really?
Her eyes narrowed. Please, Flynn, get this.
Really.
The answer was swift.
I hear and I heart you.
Tara gasped. Heart? Love? Did he just say he loved her? She typed her answer, but her finger hovered over Send. Was he saying this because everything was so dramatic and tense, or did he really mean it? She took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, then sent the text.
I heart you, too.
It wasn’t like they’d actually said the real word face to face. Plus, this was a serious time. They needed to have each other’s back.
Satisfied that the monkey of guilt was off her back, she left her phone on the end table and went to finish supper. If her uncle Pat didn’t come home soon, she was eating without him. Suddenly she was starving.
If she’d happened to glance out the front window instead of going to the kitchen, she might have spotted a tall guy slipping between an empty house and a stand of unkempt shrubs across the street. But she didn’t, and had no idea the man stayed in place, even as it began to rain, until Pat pulled into the driveway and went inside the house. By then it was dark as he hunched his shoulders against the cold downpour and disappeared into the night.
It was pouring by the time Pat pulled his car into the drive.
“Hey Tara, I’m home and something sure smells good,” he yelled, as he dashed inside.
“I’m in the kitchen. Wash up. I’m starving.”
She could hear her uncle’s footsteps as he hurried down the hall to the bathroom. She glanced at the raindrops peppering the kitchen windows and then began making their drinks and setting the table. By the time Pat came into the kitchen, the macaroni and cheese casserole was on the table and Tara was tossing dressing on the salad.
“This looks so good,” Pat said. “Anything I can do?”
“Just sit and eat,” Tara said. “You look exhausted.”
“I’m just glad I don’t normally do that kind of work. I think I’m either too old or not in good enough shape. I am certainly glad we finished ahead of this thunderstorm, though.”
Then he pretended to flex his muscles, which made Tara laugh. The end of this day was turning out to be way better than the morning had been.
“Hey, Uncle Pat, Nikki is having a slumber party at her house Saturday night. She invited me and two other girlfriends. Her Mom and Dad will be there and it’s a no-boys party. Can I go?”
“Sure you can go. I like Nikki.”
“Oh thanks, Uncle Pat. I’ve never been to a slumber party before. I’m so excited.”
Pat paused, then leaned back and stared. “Never?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because no one
ever asked me,” she said, and then realized he was looking at her. “What? Is there cheese on my shirt?”
“I can’t help but wonder what else you’ve missed because of our way of life. I can’t decide if I feel guilty or sad or a little of both.”
Tara frowned. “You don’t apologize ever for how we’ve lived, okay? You are my world, Uncle Pat. You are the only person who’s ever had my back.”
The salt shaker lifted off the table and then salted Tara’s lap.
“Oh! Hey! Okay, Millicent! Okay! I didn’t mean to leave you and Henry out, but obviously you’re less of a concrete reality in my life, okay?”
Just a reminder to you from Henry and me.
“I get it,” Tara said, and brushed the salt off her jeans onto the floor. “Now I’m gonna have to sweep the kitchen again,” she muttered.
Pat looked a little anxious. He had finally come to accept the two spirits who were part of their lives, but it was still disconcerting to be reminded in a conversational manner.
“At any rate,” Tara continued. “I consider myself blessed to have all of you.”
Henry popped up behind Uncle Pat and waved at Tara. She grinned.
Pat grinned back until he realized she was looking above his head, not at him. “Is one of them behind me?” he whispered.
Tara laughed out loud. “Whispering doesn’t work, Uncle Pat. They’re not deaf, and he’s right behind you.”
“He? Oh, you mean the guy . . . Henry?”
Tara giggled. “Yeah, the guy.”
Pat had enough of discussing spirits and shoveled another bite of macaroni and cheese into his mouth and chewed.
“This is really good,” he said, and kept on eating, as if ignoring their existence would make them disappear.
Tara hid a smile, and like Pat, finished the meal in relative silence. It wasn’t until she got up to carry the dirty dishes to the sink that she realized the wind was getting stronger, peppering the raindrops against the window like bullets. All of a sudden she realized it wasn’t raindrops. It was hail.
“Hey, Uncle Pat, turn on the television will you? It’s beginning to hail.”
Pat frowned as he hurried into the living room, while she began washing dishes.
It’s a bad wind.
Tara paused, her hands in the dishwater. Millicent’s voice sounded anxious.
“As in a storm?”
Yes.
“Is it a tornado?”
Yes.
Tara’s heart skipped. “OMG. Is it going to hit our house?”
Not this one, but many others.
Tara bolted, drying her hands on her pants as she ran. “Uncle Pat! We need to take cover. It’s a tornado and it’s going to hit Stillwater.”
Pat jumped up, wild-eyed and still holding the remote. “But the weatherman hasn’t said—”
“Millicent said different. The hall, Uncle Pat. We need to get in the hall. It’s the only interior structure without windows.”
Tornado sirens began going off all over Stillwater as Pat dropped the remote. In the background, they could hear the television programming being interrupted by a tornado warning. Tara hit the floor and pressed herself up against the wall as close as she could get while her uncle Pat threw himself on top of her. Within seconds the wind had turned into a whine strong enough to rattle the windows in the house.
“I’m scared, Uncle Pat.”
Pat wrapped his arms around her. “I’m right here, baby girl. Don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Tara closed her eyes.
You’re safe.
What about my friends?
Millicent didn’t answer, which made things worse all over again.
The whine escalated. Tara could hear limbs breaking and car alarms going off. She was shaking so hard her teeth were chattering.
All of a sudden the whine turned into a whistling roar and the power went out. There was the sound of breaking glass as her uncle shifted his entire body weight on top of her while the storm ripped through town like a runaway train, pulling roofs off of houses, leveling others in its path, destroying lives and neighborhoods without prejudice.
Tara didn’t know she was screaming until Uncle Pat pulled her to her feet and gave her a quick shake.
“Honey, it’s passed over us. It didn’t hit us. We’re okay.”
Tara took a deep shuddering breath. “But it did hit. It hit the town. Bad. I don’t know why, but I need to call Nikki. Where’s a flashlight? I’ve got to find my phone.”
The house was momentarily lit from flashes of lightning as she ran into the kitchen, then into the living room, frantically searching in the dark. Outside, she could hear a different sort of siren as police and rescue workers were dispatched. Finally, she found her phone between cushions on the sofa. Her hands were shaking as she called Nikki’s cell. The call rang and rang and just when Tara thought it was going to voicemail she heard Nikki’s voice.
“Tara! Are you alright?”
“Yes, are you? Is your family okay?”
Nikki started to cry. “We’re all home but Rachelle. She was at her friend’s house and no one is answering.”
All of a sudden Tara felt like she was choking. “She’s choking, Nikki! Wherever she is, she’s choking!”
Nikki gasped. “She has asthma! You didn’t know that, did you?”
“No, but you need to take her meds and find her. Find her fast.”
The line went dead.
Tara dropped the phone in her pocket and looked up as her uncle came through the living room with a flashlight. “Something bad is happening to Nikki’s younger sister. I told them she’s choking, but I couldn’t see where she was.”
Pat put his arms around her. “You did your job to warn them. They’ll do their job and find her. I’m going outside to look around.”
He must not go out.
Tara grabbed his arm. “Wait. Millicent said not to go out.”
Pat frowned. “But I—”
Live power line in your yard.
“OMG! Uncle Pat, she says there’s a live power line down in our yard.”
Pat raced to the doorway and shined his flashlight out into the yard. Even in the rain, he could see the broken wire sparking as the wind blew it about.
“I’ll call the city . . . and tell Millicent I said thank you.”
“Seriously, Uncle Pat. I keep telling you, they can hear you.”
He’s welcome.
“She said you’re welcome,” Tara muttered, then jumped when her phone began to ring. She looked at Caller ID and wanted to cry all over again.
It was Flynn.
“Hello.”
“Moon girl! I’ve never been so glad to hear a voice in my life. Are you all okay? We’ve been watching the weather from my uncle’s house in Ardmore. Did that twister hit town?”
Tara started to cry all over again. “Yes. Our house is still in one piece but there are sirens all over town. Nikki’s sister, Rachelle wasn’t home and she’s in trouble. I just don’t know for sure what kind. They’re looking for her. There’s a hot power line down in our yard so we can’t get out, and I don’t know how bad the neighborhood was hit.”
“Thank God, you and your uncle are all right. Mom says to tell you she said prayers.”
Tara swiped at the tears on her face. “Tell your mother they worked.”
“Tara . . . hey—”
The call began skipping. “Flynn! I can’t hear you. I’m losing—”
And just like that, the call was lost. “Dang it,” Tara muttered.
“Who was that?”
“Flynn. He was calling to check on us. He said his mom was saying prayers for us here.”
“I gave the city dispatch the skinny on the hot wire. They said the far north side of town was the hardest hit. They’ll be out when they can.”
She nodded, then wrapped her arms around his waist, buried her face against his chest, and started crying all over again.
“I k
now, honey, I know. This is a scary situation all around. We have a tree down in the back yard and big limbs down in front, and there’s a broken window in the utility room. I think there’s a small piece of plywood in the bottom of the utility closet that might be big enough to nail over that window until we can get the glass replaced. Wanna come hold it up while I nail it?”
She nodded.
“That’s my girl. Come on, Tara. Whatever’s happening, we’ll do what we always do. We’ll get through it together.”
The next hour passed in a blur. They got the plywood nailed over the broken window, then the broken glass swept up and water mopped up from the floor where the rain had blown in. As they moved back through the darkened rooms to the front of the house, an ambulance drove past with the lights on disco and the siren squalling in intermittent rhythm. Police cars were going up and down the streets with searchlights flashing on the houses they passed, looking for people in need of immediate help.
Pat went outside on their porch with his flashlight and shouted down a neighbor who was about to come check on them.
“Stop! Stop! Hot wire down!” he yelled, waving his flashlight toward the sparking line.
The man saw the hot wire just in time and backed off before checking in at another house.
From what Pat could see, the houses on both sides of the street appeared to be standing, but they would need daylight to see the true impact.
Tara came out with his coat and made him put it on, then went back inside out of the cold. She kept waiting to hear from Nikki, yet was afraid of what she’d hear. Millicent and Henry were suspiciously absent, which wasn’t all that unusual. When the atmosphere was disturbed, they seemed to have more problems moving back and forth between dimensions.
About two hours later, a utility vehicle pulled up in front of their house. Another hour later, the hot wire was no longer an issue, and the wires had been restrung from the pole to their house. At least they were ready to receive power once the city got it back up again. As soon as their house was secure, Pat left to help with a search and rescue team, leaving Tara on her own.
She was sitting on the sofa and praying for daylight when her cell phone suddenly rang. When she saw Caller ID, she was almost afraid to answer.