by Pamela Davis
But she seemed so sure of what she was telling them. Phoebe couldn't let herself think for too long about so many disasters happening. If she did, she'd start screaming and never stop. Dryly, she thought to herself it was probably good they kept giving her valium. At least with that she could pretend to be calm. How was it possible that her home, her perfectly neat and organized apartment was now just blown away in a hurricane? She couldn't bear to think of all her belongings strewn about, all over the streets probably, getting all dirty in the mud, all her CDs and videos and books out of alphabetical order, her pristine white sheets grimy in the rain and debris, her clothes, oh my god, all the clothes all wrinkled and filthy and torn, and her dishes chipped and broken and smashed and her shoes with heels broken off and the leather scuffed up and the straps ripped off and--
"Phoebe?" Margaret was suddenly standing in front of her. "Phoebe, don't think about it right now. Here." Margaret picked up Cleo and placed her in Phoebe's lap. "Pet her–that's it, just stroke her gently and keep doing that."
As Margaret returned to the corner with Zack, he quirked an eyebrow up in question. Margaret motioned him to the hallway talk quietly. "What's her story?" she asked.
"I only found out when we left Atlanta. She's been Maria's assistant forever, but I guess she has OCD--you know, obsessive-compulsive disorder--and this has totally thrown her for a loop. We've had to keep her on Valium to keep her calmed down."
"Oh, no, that's going to be a problem," Margaret said, running her hands through waves of red hair.
"Why?" asked Zack. "And how did you know to go over to her just now? Why give her the cat?"
"Oh, that. Cleo could sense she was in distress. Cleo let me know. I went over there to talk to her. Simple."
"Yeah, right. Simple. You do get that this is strange, don't you?"
"I've had more time to get used to it, Zack. The animals seem to be able to sense things about humans now--or maybe they always did and we are only now finding out about it since we can communicate with them. Cleo can generate some feeling of calm in Phoebe as long as Phoebe is touching her. And I don't know if they've always been able to do that, either. There's still a lot I don't know."
"So are we all, all of us humans, going to become Dr. Doolittles? Will we all be able to talk to the animals?" Zack inquired.
"Hmm, a good question. You've already figured something out, haven't you? Or noticed it, that not everyone is having the dreams. Or that not everyone is remembering the dreams. So you're on the right track. I don't think everyone will be able to talk to the animals either. And don't ask me how that gets determined because I just don't know."
"That idiot!" Maria exclaimed as she came up to them. "He says there are too many top news stories for me to be out here doing a feature on some psychic! Then he ordered me to leave here and go cover the hurricane. Although how he thinks I'm going to even get close to that area, I have no idea. It's all one big mess in the Southeast right now."
Margaret sounded resigned to the defeat as she said, "So that's that. No warnings for people. More death. I was afraid of this. Still, there is a way perhaps."
Salmon Creek, Idaho
"Of course, back then, people didn't really have a clue about what was going on. Then there was that news report that Miss Maria did that blew it all out of the water. Man, was that something! Musta been because things were all crazy, so much happening, that they didn't just yank her off the air. They said they were gonna go live to her with the hurricane, and then there she was, standing in a friggin' desert! And she's talkin' kinda fast, like maybe she knew they weren't gonna be too happy with what she had to say.
"She starts out by saying right up front that the Mississippi is gonna flood. And that nobody in the government is gonna tell us the truth, but that it's true that the flood is really gonna happen so all the people living 'round there better pack up and skedaddle right quick. Then she brings this woman into the picture--well, yeah, sure we all know who she is now, but back then, like I said, we didn't have a clue. I remember thinkin' she was damn pretty, but kinda serious. And when she starts telling us how all these things, these here disasters, they're all connected. Well, hoo boy! That gets your attention. But when she starts talkin' about the dreams. Well, my Gladys she just lets out a little yelp, she gets so excited. And when she said the dreams were--what'd she call 'em? Oh yeah, 'portents,' that's what she said, of things to come. That we had better all pay attention to the dreams cause they was comin' true now, no matter what anybody said.
"Of course, she prob'ly shouldn't have started talkin' about listening to what the animals told us, prob'ly lost a few people then, 'cause who would have believed it back then? Still, I'd guess Miss Maria and Margaret, I guess they prob'ly saved some people from that flood. But my Gladys, she believed it all, on account of her dreams, thank the lord she had those dreams, and we'd already got ourselves out of Atlanta and here to Idaho to her sister's place before that hurricane hit. And me, never been out of the city my whole life, you can just imagine how much I liked that idea! But I guess it was a good idea, after all, with what came. You had to feel bad for those people who just didn't listen tho'--they were outta luck."
Cape Fair, the Samuels' House
John opened the door to the house, ushering in Gracie and Rachel. He couldn't believe how his mom never seemed to age. Still the same Gracie, frosted hair perfectly in place, make-up done so skillfully you could hardly notice it. Rachel, on the other hand, seemed thoroughly strung out and exhausted. He wondered how much of that came from dealing with traveling with Gracie halfway across the country and how much was job stress. Well, he thought, no more job stress for Rachel, even if she didn't know it yet. He and Jessica had decided the night before that he wouldn't tell the newcomers to their community anything until Mrs. Philpott and Perceval could be there. That ought to be a doozy of a meeting! Of the two of them, he had a feeling that Rachel would take it the hardest. For all her quirks, Gracie always seemed to him to have a foundation deep within her of calm.
"So where is everybody? I want to see my granddaughter!" Gracie demanded.
John grabbed a note off a table in the foyer that said Jessica was out shopping for supplies. "Looks like they're out right now, Gracie, probably getting stuff for dinner."
Rachel wandered into the den and stopped short. "Uh, John? What the heck are you guys doing here?"
John walked quickly into the room and saw boxes of canning jars, canned food, and medical supplies stacked up along one wall. He groaned. A note fluttered from the side of one of the boxes, taped on and covered in Harmony's sprawling script.
"No more room in the shed. Max and I are going out for more. Find me some storage space!"
Gracie was examining the canning supplies. "Good quality jars and lids. Is Jessica getting into canning from her garden?"
John looked at her quizzically. "And just how would you know if they were good quality jars? Since when have you ever had anything to do with putting up vegetables?"
"Oh, you know," Gracie said vaguely, "I read a lot. Know a lot of trivia."
Rachel said, "John, you've got enough canned food for an army here! And medical supplies--is Sam still ill? I thought she was well."
John muttered under his breath, "I wish we had enough for an army!" Then he said, "No, no, Sam is fine, doing great. These things are just...just...well, they're part of something we're going to talk to you about tonight. After Jessica's parents get here."
Gracie whirled around to stare at him. "John! Jessica's parents are coming too? What in the world is going on here?"
"Look, guys, I promise we'll explain everything. But for now, why don't you go unpack and just chill out, okay?" As he shooed them from the room, John thought Rachel looked more like she was going to boil over, but he got them occupied and then called Mrs. Philpott.
"They're here and already asking questions," he began without preamble as soon as she answered.
"Well, put them off!" she said, exasperated. "I
've got my hands full right now with Sam and Harry and Perceval and--oh, by the way, you probably should know that Jessica asked Max to live with you guys."
"She what?" John asked, incredulous.
"She said you had room, although you are going to have a full house with your relatives and hers, but we both thought it was important for Max to be near Sam and Harry. And I'm more convinced of it now since talking to Sam."
"Just what is going on over there, Mrs. P?" John was starting to feel alarmed, and then almost started to laugh at that thought. What wasn't alarming these days?
"An interesting conversation that I have to get back to now, so I'll see you later after Jessica's parents get here. Bye for now," and John heard the phone click as she hung up.
An interesting conversation? These days, with Samantha and Harry and Perceval in the mix, there was no telling what the conversation was about. But, he thought grimly, it was probably not good, not good at all.
He wandered into the kitchen and nabbed some pecan-chocolate chip cookies from a container on the counter. Munching the delectable snack, he tried to think calmly about Samantha. But it was hard. She's just a little girl, he thought. Yet what Jessica had told him of Sam knowing so much about what was coming, the incident the other day when she 'went somewhere else'--how to protect her from that? And is it even possible?
If he tried to be objective, he'd have to say that Samantha had changed over the past few weeks. There were times when she seemed so much older than she was, yet other times when she acted just like a normal little kid. But she's not normal anymore, is she? Jessica was right, we have to protect her as much as possible, but how do we do that when our little girl seems to know more about what is happening in the world than anyone else? Well, except maybe for Perceval. We'll just have to rely more on Perceval, he thought and then had to grin. It would take a while for all this to seem normal, if it ever would. He sometimes wished he had the connection to Harry that Sam did, but he thought if he had that connection, he'd remember more of the dreams. He shuddered just thinking about the bits of the dreams he could remember. How in hell was Samantha able to tolerate those dreams? How do we keep her from going crazy from the dreams? Yet, she seems okay, she doesn't seem depressed, so maybe she can handle it. And what does that mean, if she can handle it? That she's changed somehow...not the same little girl anymore. But she's still my little girl, he thought fiercely, and suddenly realized that his fear was of losing her to this--this thing that was changing her. "Yeah," he said aloud. "Not so much fun living a science fiction story as it is to make one up."
Dorena's Landing, Missouri, at Dorena-Hickman Ferry
"You have got to be kidding me!" Lisanne practically screamed as she got out of the car at the Dorena-Hickman Ferry. "That's a big river out there!" Turning to Merlin she said, "No way am I going out on that--no freaking way! You got that?"
Merlin sniffed and stalked off. It was great to stretch himself after being cooped up in the car for hours. He certainly wasn't going out on the river on the ferryboat; that was one thing humans could handle better than he could. She really should be grateful, he thought, since she was going to get to ride on one of the few remaining riverboat ferries in America. And who knew if there would be any left after the flood? No gratitude, that girl. None at all. And he'd told her why she had to go out on the river, that the horses were crossing the river. She just didn't listen.
Ah, wait now. Was he hearing something? Although calling it hearing was misleading. It was more a sensing, a knowing. And this was coming from Perceval. He'd finally gotten the name right. Some cat, this Perceval. He had tons of information. Now he was telling Merlin, if you could use the word telling, that there were more horses than expected. Well, Merlin had thought it was more than a few--wait, that many? That was a lot of horses! I'd better stay well clear of them when they get here or I'll get trampled, he thought. Ah, that was the trouble--they were coming in around sunset at the time of the last ferry. But it would take more than one ferry. So Andy and Lisanne would just have to convince the ferry operator to keep running the ferry until they were all across the river. Because after tonight, they might not be able to get across. Weird things going on with the river. Well, duh, Merlin thought, as if there aren't weird things going on all over the place right now! Oh, and he was supposed to keep Lisanne in line and make sure she didn't shoot anybody. He thought that was a little unfair. Lisanne was crazy, but not violent. Oh, the ferryboat captain might be a problem. Well, Merlin thought, Lisanne can just screech at him for a while, she won't need to shoot him, just listening to her yell should bring the captain right in line. Meowing to himself, he ambled off to find Lisanne and Andy. And the dog.
Cape Fair, Mrs. Philpott's House
THAT CAT HAS A BIT OF AN ATTITUDE
"Perceval! Look who's talking!" said Mrs. Philpott. "You can be a bit supercilious yourself, you know."
"What's supersilly mean?" asked Samantha.
"Supersill-e-us, that's how you say it, Sam," Mrs. Philpott replied. "It means haughty, disdainful--" She paused as Sam looked at her blankly. "Like when you look down your nose at someone." Continued blankness on Sam's part. "Like when someone is a snob, being kind of snotty about it."
"Oh, I know what that is. Like the way Mrs. Tucker at the store looked at Harmony the other day?"
"Right. Just like that."
"But Perce isn't like that. He's a nice person, um, cat."
Perceval meowed in agreement.
"Okay, whatever," Mrs. Philpott said. She was feeling frazzled after discussions with Samantha and Perceval about all sorts of things, the influx of a huge amount of horses, a crazy-sounding girl, and a cat named Merlin being the last things on the list. "Merlin is sure this Lisanne will handle things appropriately?"
SHE HAS ANDY WITH HER AND HIS DOG WALDO
PLUS MERLIN SEEMS TO BE ABLE TO WORK WITH HER
NOT SURE SHE IS REALLY CRAZY
MERLIN IS A BIT STRANGE HIMSELF SO ITS HARD TO TELL
Mrs. Philpott was completely surprised by that statement. "Merlin is strange? How is that possible? I thought you animals had it more together than the humans at this point."
DO YOU AND HARMONY HAVE THE SAME PERSONALITY
"Point taken," Mrs. Philpott replied thoughtfully. "I should have realized that. Of course there could be differences among you, different personality types, different levels of intelligence, too, if I'm correct?"
YES SOME NOT SO SMART
SOME HAVE DIFF LIVES DIFF WAYS TO SEE WORLD
SOME NOT SO NICE AS HARRY AND ME
"Yeah, Mrs. Philpott," Sam interjected, "there are some animals who maybe got beat and stuff by people and they turned mean. Like some of those whatchamacallit dogs that attack people sometimes. Oh yeah, thanks, Perce, those pit bull dogs are one kind."
"Wait a minute, Sam. What just happened here--you didn't know the name and then Perceval gave it to you, right?"
"Well, yeah, he knew it and I didn't."
"But it happened so fast and you weren't even looking at him!"
Samantha looked uncomfortable for a minute, and then shrugged. "It doesn't take hardly any time at all to say a couple words. And you already knew I could talk to any of the animals around here. I think you have to look at Perceval 'cause you don't have a lot of, um, spericene, experience, with it yet."
And just how much of that did she get from Perceval in the last couple of seconds, I wonder? Mrs. Philpott looked from the cat to the girl and couldn't help feeling a little twinge of fear of this new ability. Realizing fear could probably be picked up by either of them, she quickly asked, "So what does this mean, if there are 'bad' animals out there?"
Sam watched her for a moment as Perceval typed on the computer. She knew about the fear. She knew lots of feelings from people. Perceval thought maybe she was so closely connected to the animals that she immediately picked up on what they felt coming from people. Harry said it was 'cause she was smart, but then Harry thought she was the smartest p
erson in the world these days. It was hard to sort out just where stuff came from in her head. And it was hard to know how to be, so people wouldn't be afraid of her. But Perce and Harry said it would get better, that people just didn't understand right now. She wondered about that. If they would ever understand and not be afraid of what she could do. Even her mom and dad didn't know all that she could do, and she was learning so much now. So fast. Was there anybody else like her anywhere?
She looked down at Harry, stretched out on the floor beside her, napping. Harry was almost always by her side, connected to her like a string or thread was between them, even when they were occasionally apart. Thank goodness for the animals, or she would have felt alone. But not now. She never felt alone. If she let herself, she could open up a place in her mind and feel connected to everything. But that was almost too noisy, too much to feel. So she was being careful about doing that.
THERE ARE BAD PEOPLE WHO WILL CONNECT WITH ANIMALS
THEY WILL INFLUENCE EACH OTHER
SOME ANIMALS WILL ATTACK OTHER ANIMALS OR PEOPLE
JUST LIKE SOME PEOPLE WILL ATTACK PEOPLE OR ANIMALS
"Will they come here?" asked an alarmed Mrs. Philpott.
"Maybe," said Sam slowly. "Maybe they will, but maybe we will know about it before they do. That's why we have to set up an alarm system like Perceval says. We have to find other people who can talk to animals real good so we can know before, know in advance, of an attack. We know some people who are coming who will help. We know about them already. What would be good is if we found someone who could talk with the eagles."
"The eagles? Oh! Of course, the bald eagles. I'd completely forgotten we have a large population of bald eagles in this area. They'd be perfect for patrolling the area, right?"
YOU ARE CORRECT
"Stop being supersilly, Perce," Sam said laughing, "you know she doesn't like that!"