The Weird Travels of Aimee Schmidt: The Curse of the Gifted

by J. A. Schreckenbach

  “Dad, Dylan and I aren’t going to the after graduation party at the school.”

  “You’re not?” Dad replied surprised. Aimee could tell he wasn’t going to drop it. He wanted to know details.

  “No, we’re not.” Aimee could feel her cheeks turning red. She didn’t know if she was more embarrassed having to tell Dad the truth about going away - alone - because he would get the gist of what it meant, or she was more ticked because she needed his permission to go, like she was twelve again. Regardless, Aimee defiantly blurted out, “We’re going to spend the weekend at his parents’ cabin. And not that it makes any difference…we’re gonna be there alone.” Aimee started to jump up. She no longer felt like discussing this with her father. Dad grabbed her arm and held it tight. Even though the room was pitch black, Aimee felt his eyes scrutinizing her. Finally, after an exasperated moment, Aimee decided it wasn’t helping her cause to be hardheaded about this. If she was an adult, she needed to act like one. She remained calm. She started again persuasively cool. “Dad, you need to trust me to do the right thing, to make good choices. I know I’ll screw up once in a while, but you have been a totally awesome teacher. Dylan and I don’t drink. We don’t get high. And we’re responsible. Okay? Trust me. I’m not the same person I was four years ago. I can handle what comes my way in our relationship. I’m not a naïve, little kid.” He finally released her arm. She leaned over and kissed him on his forehead. “Dad, I really appreciate your hovering. I really do. But I’ll be fine.”

  “Humph,” Dad muttered under his breath. Aimee had won this round, but she could tell he wasn’t going to give up easily losing his little girl to the big, scary adult world.

  Aimee said sweetly, “I love you.”

  Dad answered, resignation in his voice, “I love you, too. Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

  “I promise.”

  That night when she was getting ready for bed, Aimee noticed she still hadn’t flipped Mom and Dad’s photo upright on the bookcase. The last time she had looked at it, she got freaked out by the ghostly image of Joseph, the young Brit from her dreams, mystically appearing in the background. That was a few weeks back. Aimee figured she would take a peek. She felt sure she had been acting ridiculous avoiding it. She missed the daily ritual of looking at Mom and Dad, and touching Mom’s face, and she hadn’t had another dream with Joseph, or whatever that strange experience was a few weeks back. So, before that faded away into her rapidly growing repertoire of weird events, Aimee figured she better assure herself that it was just a figment of her overactive imagination. Before she got into bed, Aimee decided to get a grip and tiptoed over to the bookcase. She slowly reached towards the framed picture, trying to steady the shaking in her fingers. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and grabbed the photo. Aimee peeked with one eye. Her breath stuck in her throat. She opened the desk drawer and pitched the picture in and slammed it shut. This time she was positive she wasn’t seeing things. The ghostly stranger was still there, and without a doubt, it was Joseph Smith, the young man who somehow had wormed his way into her life.

  Aimee jumped when her phone gently vibrated on the nightstand bringing her back into the present. She reached quickly for it so it wouldn’t roll to voice mail. She figured it was Dylan making his ritual ‘I love you’ call before going to sleep, so she steadied her voice so he couldn’t detect how rattled she was.

  Aimee began, “Hey there.”

  Silence.

  “Hello?”

  More silence.

  Aimee's skin instantly crawled as the ominous reminder from the past suddenly resurfaced. The crank calls had stopped after her journey with Brandi, but she felt certain this time it had to be the same person...again. Aimee also knew it had to be the same person who vandalized Paul’s Lexus, and they were serious - dead serious - about the message. What did they have to lose? One failed attempt had already been made. The next time she knew they would get it right.

  In all the seriousness Aimee could muster, she spit out in a deep growl, “I know who this is, and you aren’t gonna get away with it! Leave Dylan alone. This is between you and me. You know I’m crazy, so bring it on, bitch. We’ll see who makes it out alive.”

  Suddenly, there was a click on the other end. Aimee pitched the phone on the bed. It bounced off the pillow and hit Zonker. He instantly leaped from the bed with a frightened look and headed for the door.

  Aimee felt a twinge of guilt letting her get to her like that. She patted the bed and pleaded sweetly, “Z Boy, I’m sorry. Come back.” He studied her for a minute, then jumped back up on the bed, but curled up at the opposite end, his little, beady eyes watching warily. “Geez, I must be acting like a real psycho. Even my dog is afraid of me.” She did feel edgy, like she did monthly right before that time of the month. “Oh man…no way!” Aimee muttered out loud. She picked up her phone and scrolled quickly through the menu to the calendar, then counted back four weeks. “Oh, crap!” she snarled. Aimee pitched the phone again. Twenty-eight days would be this Saturday, and she was like clockwork. No wonder I’m so friggin’ moody. She had thought it was her preoccupation with the most recent journey, but this had slipped up on her without realizing it.

  “Of all the friggin’ times,” Aimee hissed through her teeth. She suddenly remembered their plans for this Saturday night after graduation. Boy, Dylan’s gonna be pissed when I tell him once again our plan to be together could get sidetracked, and as usual, it’s my fault. Aimee whipped a t-shirt from the drawer and angrily headed off for the bathroom to wash up. When she passed Dad’s bedroom on the way back, Dad hollered for her.

  “Hey, Aimee,” he began.

  She stopped outside his door and waited. “Yeah?”

  “Well, don’t stand in the hallway. Come in so I can see you.”

  Aimee reluctantly pushed opened the door and stepped over to the end of his bed. He was reading a magazine. He set it down and took off his readers, then patted the bed. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

  “Thanks, but I think I’ll stand.” Her mood was getting blacker by the minute.

  Dad stared at her for a few seconds, then cleared his voice before continuing, “Well, then…I just wanted to let you know I appreciate you sharing with me how you feel. I’m your dad, you know. Letting go isn’t very easy, especially when it’s my little girl…”

  “Dad…” Aimee started to interrupt, but he wasn’t finished.

  “No, listen. I may not like you going off this weekend with Dylan, alone, but you’re right. I shouldn’t worry. You have a good head on your shoulders and I know you try to think things through and make the best decisions for yourself before you do something. I trust you to do the right thing, the best thing for you,” then he added hesitantly, “…and Dylan. Don’t worry about Aunt Lauren being here. Hell, James didn’t stick around the night of graduation. I think Hannah and I can entertain her just fine. Matter-of-fact, I’m sure the two of them will get along as well as two hens in a hen house.”

  “Dad!” Aimee chortled, then tried to stifle her outburst.

  Dad chuckled under his breath, then his laughing gradually died and his voice changed to a sincere tone. “Aimee, I love you. You have been my lifesaver all these years. I’m really gonna miss you when you go off to school.”

  Aimee stood, still at the foot of the bed, staring at him for only a few seconds. She could feel the river of tears welling up behind her eyelids, and she couldn’t hold back the floodgate. With tears ready to pour down her cheeks, Aimee quickly scooted over to the side of the bed and threw her arms around her dad’s neck.

  “I love you so much, Dad, and, well, I’m gonna miss you, too.” Her dad hugged her and squeezed before they both let go at the same time. Aimee kissed his forehead, grabbed a tissue, and hastily left before she started to boohoo. Damn PMS! It would have to raise its wicked head now, of all the friggin’ times. Aimee was positive the stress of the changes about to happen, especially this weekend, would have her mood swinging betw
een I could kill you if you look at me wrong and Please don’t look at me wrong or I’ll start crying. Right now, she felt the later of the two coming on so she swiftly headed to her room and shut the door before she let the tears run down her cheeks.

  As she was crawling into bed, Aimee noticed she missed a call from Dylan, and one from Chels. Right now she wasn’t in any mood to talk to either so she turned off the light, buried herself under her quilt, turned over into her favorite sleeping position, and took a whiff of Dylan from my pillowcase. His sweet scent brought the tears again. Her weekend was so not going to be what they had planned. Aimee decided to wait until tomorrow to let him know.

  After a brief spell, she felt Zonker ease his body behind her knees and settle down into a warm, furry ball, then sigh. All of her psycho emotions suddenly vanished feeling him snuggle and she drifted off into slumber.

  Aimee's dark mood resurfaced the next morning. She entered the kitchen to get some water before leaving on her run, and Dad greeted her a little too cheerfully, “Hey, sweetheart, beautiful day outside. Going for a run?”

  She growled back trying terribly to keep her crabby mood in check, “Humph, probably be too stinking hot.”

  “Wow, what side of the bed did you wake up on?” Dad asked as he put the paper down and peered up at Aimee.

  Aimee frowned. “Grrrrr. Soo funny, Dad, I forgot to laugh.”

  “Well, don’t bite off my head. I was just commenting on the lovely weather.” Dad took a swig of coffee, quickly picked up the paper, and buried his head in the sports section. He continued, “I’d think a person finished with finals and finally graduating in two days would be ecstatic, and a person about to get another car for graduation would be happy, too.”

  Her mood suddenly swung when she heard the words - another car. Aimee had been waiting for what seemed like forever to get another car after her Prius got totaled. She whipped around from the kitchen sink and stared at Dad. He kept his eyes glued to the paper, but a huge grin was spread across his face.

  “For real?!” she shrieked.

  Dad finally put down the paper and looked up at Aimee and nodded. She shrieked again and leaped over and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” spilled excitedly from her over and over. Finally, Aimee let go of his neck and sat down in the chair next to him. “So, does that mean they finished the investigation and settled the claim?”

  Dad took another sip of coffee, then got up to get his toast from the counter. “Well, the claim was settled weeks ago, but with me a little incapacitated I didn’t feel up to helping you look for another car. Anyway, Levi told me they are getting close to finishing their investigation and you will need to go into the station for a lineup, or to look at photos, or something like that before they make an arrest. I told Levi you’ve been under a load of stress lately, and whatever they could do to minimize the ordeal when they finally bust this punk would be appreciated.”

  Aimee's excitement over the new car was a bit tarnished with the news about the criminal case coming to a head. She knew who wanted her dead, and they probably knew they were about to be busted which would explain why the crank call came last night after such a long period of silence.

  “Hmm, does news about the case bother you?” Dad asked. He always read Aimee like a book. It was kind of creepy how he could almost always pick up on her feelings.

  “No...well, yeah, I guess it does,” she admitted.

  Dad reached over and put his hand on her arm. “Aimee, this asshole almost killed you. Whatever he has coming won’t be harsh enough. I wish they would let me take care of the sonofa…”

  “Dad!” Aimee blurted out cutting him off. “Chill out. I know I could have been killed, but I’m okay. Don’t get all stressed out over this. You don’t need to get your blood pressure up. Let the cops take care of it. All right?”

  Dad picked up the paper and popped it open angrily. “Yeah, I guess. But if I have any say-so, this dude will hang.”

  She narrowed her eyebrows into a tightly knitted line and gawked at Dad. She was positive he could feel her stare while he intently pretended to study something in his newspaper. Finally, Aimee slowly slid her earbuds into her ears, clicked on some music, and turned to leave out the backdoor. Dad had one more thing to say, and obviously he didn’t really want her to hear it, but the music wasn’t loud. Dad, on the other hand, was loud enough for her to hear over the music flowing into her head.

  Dad muttered, “Yeah, the young punk is gonna wish he had never messed with you, Amos.”

  Aimee shivered. She knew Dad was protective, but she had never seen him quite this upset. If this person was bold enough to try and kill her for Dylan’s ex, and most likely also involved in defacing Paul’s car with a death threat, no telling what he would do if he thought he was about to be trapped like a cornered animal. Geez, one more thing to worry about. The list kept growing.

  She quickly headed out the back and down the driveway. Aimee needed a good shot of endorphins to keep her mood in check. As she rounded the front corner of the house, Aimee's mood immediately lifted. Parked against the curb was a black FJ, and leaning against it all decked out in his running shoes, basketball shorts, and t-shirt was a Greek god; Dylan. A big grin lit up his face as soon as he saw Aimee.

  “It’s about time,” he teased while he started walking towards her.

  “Hey, you. What are you doing here?” Since they were finally through with classes she figured she wouldn’t see Dylan until later in the day.

  “Well, I thought I would surprise you. I need to start getting in shape again before preseason workouts. I hear they try to break you the first week so I want to be ready. Besides,” he began, then grabbed Aimee's hand and pulled her to him, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I really can’t wait until Saturday night.” His lips were an inch away from hers, and his intoxicating sweet breath seized her thoughts.

  It took all of her willpower to refrain from latching onto him while they stood in her front yard. Aimee closed her eyes and shook away his spell. She kissed him quickly, then pulled away and bolted into a sprint down the sidewalk. She looked back over her shoulder and shouted, “First one to the end of the street gets whatever they want.” With all the power she could muster, Aimee slid into a full throttle run. She peeked back and Dylan was close behind, looking like he wasn’t even breaking a sweat. He had a devilish smirk. She turned back and tried to run harder, but her legs were going as fast as she could push. Dylan rounded her left side, and glanced over. He still had that damn grin plastered on his face, and he winked. They kept tied for the next twenty yards, then about twenty-five yards from the intersection, Dylan easily pulled ahead and left her in his dust. By the time Aimee made it to the intersection, her mood shifted from rosy pink to a sinister black.

  “What?” he said and smiled. “You’re the one who made the bet. Hey, don’t be such a poor sport.” He immediately could tell by the surly look on Aimee's face that he probably should have let her win, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of gloating. She glared at him when she passed, then pushed through the intersection and kept on jogging. A short minute later, Aimee heard Dylan right behind her, and then without moving her eyes from straight ahead, she felt him right next to her. He kept in pace with Aimee and continued looking over hoping her iceberg disposition would thaw. After running a long minute without talking, he broke the silence. “Look, Aimee...I’m sorry....I didn’t mean...to piss you off. I...was just trying...to be funny…and win the bet.”

  Without looking at him, Aimee slowed a bit so she could talk without stopping. “Yeah...well...you won...fair and square, and...I’m not one to...squelch on a bet.”

  She stopped abruptly and Dylan quickly stopped, too, and turned to face her. Both were breathless from their race. Dylan leaned over and sucked in a couple deep breaths before talking. With her hands perched on her hips, Aimee stood on the sidewalk glaring at him with an annoyed look, waiting for him to tell her
what he wanted for winning the bet. After a minute he rose up and grabbed her hands. He looked intently into Aimee's eyes and asked, “So I won, huh?”

  Aimee nodded.

  “Well, then I’ll tell you what I want,” he started, then paused and took a long breath. “I want you. Nothing else matters. I don’t know how to explain this, but you are the only thing I can think about. I’ve tried to figure out why I need you so much, but I can’t make sense of it. You’re like the oxygen I need to breath.” She shoved her eyebrows together, then pulled her hands from his and backed up against a tree along the side of the curb. Dylan paced back and forth in front of Aimee a couple times as if he was in front of a jury carefully selecting the right words in a closing argument, then suddenly he turned and stared deep into her eyes and continued, “Anyway, I know you probably don’t feel the same, but I want to, and I…I…need to spend the rest of my life with you.” Aimee must have had the look of a deer in the headlights of an oncoming semi because Dylan instantly asked, “Hey, are you okay? Aimee, say something so I know you’re okay.” He snapped his fingers a couple times in front of her face, and finally she came out of her trance. She couldn’t speak. Dylan put his hands on both of her shoulders and gently squeezed. “Hey, I’m not talking about marriage, well, not now anyway, but later when we both get through school. It’s just that I need to know you are in this with me for the duration. Aimee, I’m totally, completely, insanely, in love with you.”

  “Whoa, Dylan,” Aimee said pulling away from his grasp, “first of all, back up. I’m not pissed about losing to you. You won, fair. And second…well...I love you, too. I’m friggin’ crazy about you, but geez, Dylan, we’re so young, and we’ve only been together six months, and…and…”

  “And what?”

  “And we haven’t even BEEN together yet, you know, BEEN together! How do you know you want me forever when we haven’t even slept together? You’ll probably find me terribly boring and want someone else. You hardly know me. I mean really know me.”