Vision of Serpents

by Vincent Morrone

  I shrugged.

  “Somebody has an ability,” I said. “Like my ability to see ghosts. Or Payne’s ability to heal.”

  Varick looked towards Dante.

  “I already know about that,” Dante said. “Saw ol’ Payne get himself all banged up and twisted when he crashed into Balthazar. He just walked it off.”

  “Look,” I said. “We know other people in both families have powers—Dante doesn’t know who has what—but someone else has the ability to influence and twist human emotions. Mr. McKnight was upset over Blasé. How hard would it have been for someone with the ability to manipulate emotions to twist your grief, and focus it on me? I don’t think Mr. McKnight was the only person who’s had their emotions manipulated around here.”

  Uncle Mark sat next to me.

  “Who else?” he asked.

  “Archer,” I said. “I had that vision of a snake biting him right before he tried to kill himself. That’s why Dante and I went looking for him. He’s been torn up over what happened with Eric. That could have been used against him. Also, Aunt Breanne. I had a vision of the snake striking her. Aunt Breanne would never have tried to kill herself. She knew suicide was the last thing Jared would have wanted. She’s one of the strongest people I know.

  “For that matter,” I went on, “Blasé. I’ll bet he was pushed, too. Whoever‘s manipulating us wanted him to be dead, and for Mr. McKnight and the rest of your family to blame me.”

  Varick slowly started to rise. His eyes were burning with anger.

  “So you think it’s a Blackburn,” he said, shaking his head. “Three McKnight victims.”

  I shrugged. It was possible, but not definite. I knew it didn’t matter to me which family this person came from. Either way they were screwing with people I loved.

  “What about Bryan?” Uncle Mark asked. “We know the explosion wasn’t caused by the original vandals. The boys didn’t get that far into the store. The gas line was checked, but the tampering could have been done by someone else.”

  “Like Payne,” Dante said. “He was back there.”

  I shook my head.

  “No,” I said. “I’ll bet it was Bryan himself. Maybe he didn’t know what he was doing. Maybe it was another suicide. But it was because he was attacked by that snake. It could be a Blackburn or a McKnight.”

  Varick and Dante looked like they wanted to argue the point more, but Uncle Mark held his hand up to stop them.

  “Okay,” He said. “Let’s say you’re right. Lord knows you usually are. How does that help us get Simon and Skyler back? Do you think that Balthazar is being controlled?”

  I shrugged.

  “Maybe,” I said. “I don’t know.”

  Uncle Mark folded his arms. I wasn’t giving him much information to work with.

  “Okay,” he said. “Right now I’m going to try to track Balthazar the old fashioned way. In the meantime, Bristol: go home and talk to your grandfather. See if he knows anyone who has abilities like the ones you’re talking about. If he doesn’t, he can try and find out.”

  Uncle Mark stood up and turned towards Varick. I got the impression that Uncle Mark wasn’t ready to forgive Varick, but he wasn’t going to turn down any help in finding his son. “Varick, will you do the same? I know that there have been more McKnight attacks than Blackburn, but we can’t afford not to check.”

  Varick stood up and approached my uncle.

  “I said I would do whatever I could. If it is a McKnight, I’ll find him. But if my son is being influenced—”

  “Does Balthazar have any abilities?” Uncle Mark asked.

  “No,” Varick said. “None of which I am aware—but apparently, I do not know my youngest son as well as I thought.”

  “Mr. McKnight,” I said, fully aware that I was probably about to cross a line. “Have you ever talked to Payne about what went on between him and his father when they lived together? How Balthazar treated Payne?”

  Varick paused a moment as he thought about it.

  “Payne never talks about it,” Varick said. “I know my son has a drinking problem. I’ve tried to get him help, but he refuses. I know he can say things that are cruel. I’d offered for Payne to come live with me, or one of his aunts and uncles, many times, but until he’d met you he had always refused. I know your uncle suspected abuse, but Payne always denied—”

  “I know he did,” I said. “But Payne was lying. Balthazar knew about Payne’s ability. And he took advantage of that in the worst possible way.”

  Understanding of what I was saying washed over Varick, leaving him visibly shaken, something that was very rare. But the resolve in his eyes remained firm. “Let’s get those children back,” Varick said. “Then I will deal with my son.”

  We all walked out together. Uncle Mark went to his patrol car, Dante and I headed to his truck. Varick climbed into his car: something white with wheels that looked like it could be a rocket ship.

  Dante quickly put the car in gear and started to drive towards my home.

  “So,” Dante said. “How does this work? Do you try and nap? Meditate? Use crystals? Cards? Touch something that belongs to Simon?”

  I resisted the urge to slap the back of his head.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You,” Dante said. “You and your . . . ” He made a swirly motion with his hands. “That thing you do. You know what I mean.”

  Under other circumstances, this might be funny.

  “No,” I said. “You idiot. I don’t use any of those things. I can’t control when I have a vision. I just have them when I have them.”

  “Oh,” he said, sounding almost disappointed.

  We drove in silence for a few blocks.

  “I’m not an idiot,” he finally said.

  I rolled my eyes and grabbed the notebook, holding it tight, wishing that I could just know that the answer was in here. Wishing I’d get a vision that would tell me to look at the third paragraph on the fifth page and see something that would make the whole thing fall into place.

  I got nothing as we pulling into my driveway. Dante opened my door. As we trudged to the house, I realized that something about this moment felt strange and familiar. A sense of déjà vu overcame me. Before I could figure out what it was, I heard another car pull up to the curb.

  I watched as Payne and Hunter got out. Hunter looked better than she had, but still sported a few bruises and a soft cast.

  Payne looked miserable seeing me here with Dante.

  “We heard about Simon and Skyler,” Payne said. “We want to help.”

  I looked at Payne and felt anger boil up inside of me again, but I pushed that aside. I’d seen this. I knew what was coming.

  “Bristol,” Hunter said. “Let us come in.”

  I waited a moment. Sure enough, Dante placed his hands on my shoulders.

  “No,” I said. I made sure to speak slowly, and very deliberately. “I don’t want to see either of you. I don’t want you anywhere near me. Whatever you do, don’t follow me.”

  I watched Hunter. We locked eyes and I prayed she understood.

  I didn’t look at Payne as he turned away. But I could feel his heart break.

  A few moments later, I was inside with Dante. We found Grandpa sitting at the kitchen table on the phone. He signaled us to wait a moment as he said goodbye, and then hung up.

  “I understand I can talk freely?” Grandpa said, looking at Dante. “Zach’s at your cousin Bill’s. He’ll be safe there.”

  “What can you tell us?” I asked.

  “Not much,” Grandpa said. “Been on the phone. Nobody I know can do what you say is being done. Nobody I’ve called has heard of anyone that can do it either. Not that I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “For all the good it’s doing. My thought is that whoever is doing this has been manipulating people in both families, and trying to get us fighting agai
n.”

  I took a seat next to Grandpa at the table. Dante sat across from me.

  “Do you know my friend Ian?” I asked Grandpa. “He’d been over a couple of times.”

  “Skinny kid?” Grandpa said. “Tall, glasses, trips every ten minutes? Five, if Hunter is in the room?”

  “That’s him,” Dante said.

  I gave him a rundown of everything Ian had told us, in short form.

  “I may want to talk to this kid,” Grandpa said.

  “I’m sure he’ll look forward to that.” My tone could have been taken as sarcasm if we were talking about anyone else but Ian. “I had a thought about something. I lived outside of Spirit most of my life. I can’t have been the only one.”

  Grandpa shrugged.

  “Yeah, sure, others have left, or tried to. But it doesn’t usually work out real well. I think anyone who has left ended up either coming back or turned up dead.”

  “That jibes with what Ian told us,” I said. “When my parents left, they broke off contact, didn’t they? I don’t remember them making many phone calls to you. It was like they were trying to cut themselves off.”

  Grandpa seemed uncomfortable.

  “Look,” he said. “When you were born and you were, you know—”

  “A girl?” I offered.

  “Yeah. That. Your folks thought that meant they could get you away from all of this. I’d warned them that there have been other girls here and there, Hunter, for example, but Drew was convinced. He said they’d take their chances. So, he said some things. I said some things. We shouted. Didn’t know that I’d never see him again, after that.”

  I leaned in and gave Grandpa a hug. I sometimes forgot how hard it must have been for him to lose his son—and now his grandson was missing.

  “All right,” he said. “Let’s not get misty.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” I said. “Okay, so you lost track of my family, and me. Right.”

  “Well,” Grandpa answered. “I kept up. Your uncle would call to try and check up on you and your parents. We didn’t just forget about you.”

  “I know.” I patted his arm. “Look, I’m not really talking about me. What I’m thinking is that some people may have left, and their families didn’t know what was going on.”

  Grandpa shook his head.

  “I’m not following you.”

  “I’ve got to say,” Dante said as he sat down across from me. “I’m kinda lost too, sugar.”

  I rolled my eyes and reached for the notebook.

  “Look,” I said. “Imagine if my parents had another child after they’d left here, and you guys didn’t know, and then my parents were killed.”

  Grandpa and Dante exchanged confused looks.

  “Whoever is doing this might be the child of one of the Blackburns or McKnights who left,” I continued. “Maybe it’s someone who was even born outside of Spirit.”

  As they started to mull it over, I opened the notebook.

  “Ian gave you that,” Dante said. “What’s in there?”

  I pushed it forward to Grandpa.

  “Answers,” I said. “At least, I hope so. I asked Ian if he had the names of anyone who’d left Spirit. We could be looking for a child born out of wedlock. Or maybe someone who got married after they left, and then died? Who knows?”

  Grandpa took the book and started to read.

  “You’ve got McKnights and Blackburns in here,” he said.

  “Yeah,” I answered. “It could be either.”

  Grandpa looked unconvinced, but he didn’t say much as he scanned the names.

  “Let’s see,” he said. “You have to love these McKnight names. Barnabas McKnight left to go away to college, decided to not come back. Died two months after graduation in a car crash. Ludovic McKnight. He and his wife moved with their twin boys out to California. They were there a year, and then died in a house fire. Kids survived. I remember that. They came back to town, lived with their Uncle Finbar. They’d be about twenty now. Who else do we have here? Grayson McKnight. He ran away from home at the ripe old age of sixteen, and was never seen again.”

  “When was that?” I asked.

  Grandpa read silently for a moment. “About ten years ago. You think that means something?”

  I shook my head.

  “It means it doesn’t fit. Whoever the snake represents has to be around our age, at least a freshman, although my guess is older. They’re probably my age.”

  “Why not a freshman?” Dante asked.

  “I keep seeing the snake at school,” I answered, “and I saw it at the party too. It’s someone who has access to us.”

  Dante gave me a sort of half nod, half shrug that meant that he couldn’t argue, but wasn’t convinced.

  “Well,” Grandpa said. “I get what you’re saying, but I don’t know how to figure out any if any of these people had a kid that we don’t know about.”

  “Are you looking at just the McKnight names?” I asked. “Did you even bother to look at the Blackburn names?”

  Now Grandpa rolled his eyes at me.

  “Of course I did. I know that we’re not all saints and angels, like me.” He ignored my cocked eyebrow. “It could be any of these names. Chris married the Tucker girl. They moved away while she was pregnant, but I heard a drunk driver killed them later that year. That baby would have been around your age, but he was never born.

  “There was Peter. He was a loner, and left around the time your parents did. Or maybe a year before. I know he died on nine-eleven. Never married as far as I know. Let’s see. Then there was Adam, who went away on vacation to Florida. He met some gal named Courtney, and fell head over heels in love, but he was killed in a mugging. We never even got to meet her. And, of course, there was your Uncle Sam.”

  “Wait,” I said. “Not the guy in the red, white and blue suit with the beard?”

  “No,” Grandpa said. “You have an actual Uncle Sam. He was very patriotic. Served in the first Gulf War.”

  “Where is he now?” I asked.

  Grandpa sat back and frowned.

  “Dead,” Grandpa said.

  “In the war?” I asked.

  “Jail,” he mumbled. “Convicted for tax fraud about six years ago.”

  I let that one go.

  “Can you make some calls?” I said. “See if there’s anything we’re missing?”

  He nodded, but reached out and touched my hand.

  I knew what he was really asking. I took his hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

  “I haven’t seen anything, one way or the other. I hope they’ll be okay.”

  He nodded and reached for the phone. I couldn’t help but notice how old he looked. He was frightened down to his core.

  I gave Dante a look, which meant he needed to follow me. I wanted to leave Grandpa alone to make his calls. Plus, I wanted to be able to talk to Dante freely. I had been watching him closely while Grandpa talked. We headed out to the backyard together.

  “So,” I said, “what do you think of all this?”

  Dante shook his head as he leaned back against the fence.

  “I think it’s all insane,” he answered. “What are we talking about here? Mind control?”

  “More like mind manipulation,” I said. “Someone is twisting their emotions, redirecting their anger or shame. Using it to get them to do things they otherwise wouldn’t do.”

  “Still crazy,” Dante said. “But it fits. I mean if you had told me this a few months ago, I just would have said you’re just as bonkers as your theory. But I believe you can do the things you say you can do. I saw what happened with Payne. So I know crazy happens here.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Crazy happens here. Listen, I thought at one point it looked like you reacted to something my grandfather said.”

  Dante shrugged.

  “It’s nothing,” he said. “He just mentioned a couple of names, is all. They’re common enough.
”

  “Which ones?” I asked.

  Dante paused a moment. He didn’t want to talk about this.

  “Courtney,” Dante admitted. “That’s my stepmother’s name. Scarlett’s mom, but like I said, it’s a common name.”

  “True,” I admitted. “It’s not like some of the names the McKnights have. Balthazar. Varick.” I forced a small smile. “Payne.”

  Dante smirked at that. I let that hang in the air for a moment before pressing for more.

  “What was the name of Scarlett’s father?” I asked.

  The humor vanished from Dante’s face.

  “Adam. His name was Adam, but that doesn’t mean that—”

  Dante stopped talking as the theme for Bewitched rang out again. With a roll of his eyes, he answered his phone.

  “Yeah. What’s up?”

  I watched as he listened. He barely said anything except for an occasional uh huh, or no. At one point, he looked at me before he nodded once, and ended the call.

  “That was Scarlett?” I asked.

  Dante looked a little dazed.

  “Yeah. She says she needs to see us. Said it was important. She was upset.”

  “Did she say why?” I asked.

  “No,” Dante said. “I know you have a lot going on.” I watched as Dante put his fingers to his left temple and pressed. “Simon’s missing. You should probably stay here.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked. “Didn’t Scarlett want me to come with you?”

  “Yeah,” Dante said. “But she doesn’t always have to get what she wants.” He winced in pain.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Just a little headache,” he said, closing his eyes. “I should go.”

  “No,” I said. “Wait. What if it’s something to do with Simon? I should go with you.”

  “Don’t you need to stay here?” Dante said. “What about Simon?”

  I smiled and took Dante’s hand.

  “I’m not doing any good here,” I said. “It’s okay. Let’s go.”

  Dante nodded. His fingers dropped away from his temple.

  “Okay,” he said, sounding resigned.

  Together, we walked around the house and headed for his truck. I moved slowly. As usual, Dante opened my door for me. He gave me a worried glance as he shut it after me.