by S D Wasley
“This is the ledger we keep,” Liz told Léon, showing him the notebook. “Owen said you wanted to see it. All our visions are written down in it, as you can see. We record as much detail as possible to try to help us find out where and when an event is going to happen.”
“This is so clever,” he murmured, flicking through. “You have weather observations, estimates of the time of day, even maps and drawings ...” He fell silent, examining the book’s many filled pages. “The colours, they are of significance, I understand?”
“Yeah,” Nadine said. She couldn’t take her eyes off Léon. “There’s often just one item in colour in our visions and it’s always a primary colour. The rest is kind of greyed out.”
Owen shifted position, nodding toward the ledger. “You remember, Léon, what I told you about the colours, yeah? The colour we see might not be the actual colour in real life. The primary colours tend to represent other colours. Something we see as red could actually be orange or pink, or something we see as yellow could be cream or tan.”
“Frankie noticed that,” Jude said. “She also realised the coloured item is usually significant to the event in some way. Like, there was this woman we saw who got her bag snatched but tried to hang onto it, and then fell over and broke her hip. She died a few days later. The bag was the coloured item in that vision.”
I winced, remembering. That vision had come a week too late for us to help. The others always talked so comfortably about the grisly things they saw. Léon stared at me with open admiration in his eyes. He leaned forward and spoke directly to me.
“You must be very astute, Francesca, to discover such things.”
I shrugged, flustered.
“Frankie’s our puzzle-solver,” Jude told Léon, a trace of pride in his voice.
“When did you first become aware of your gift?” he asked me.
Was he really asking me that? I wanted to hide under the sofa. “I haven’t got a gift,” I mumbled. “I’m a normal.”
“A normal?” Léon replied without a trace of humour. “I don’t think so.”
I glanced at Nadine and then Jude. Was it possible Léon couldn’t see our differences? That he didn’t see their intense beauty and power the same way I did? We were all in suspense for a moment, waiting for his explanation, but he simply said he regretted that his own group members had never thought of writing down their premonitions. I was left wondering about his words while Owen asked Léon about the other members of his group.
“There were four of us,” he said, a shadow crossing his face. “There are some I have not yet found. But we were broken apart by circumstances of our lives and families.”
He explained how he’d found one of the women at his college; a man working at a food stand in the city; and the last was the sister of a school friend.
“And you had a medium working with you?” Owen prompted.
“Yes, we had another woman helping us,” Léon said. “She was a friend of my mother. Very spiritual and claimed to be a medium. But I am not sure she had any genuine gifts. She was never able to help us put together our premonitions. She gave us nothing of any real use before she stopped coming to our meetings. I believe she has left town to stay with her ailing father.”
Helen spoke for the first time, her voice timid. “Have you been able to help anyone through your visions?”
Léon hesitated. “Our visions are not quite visions, not as Owen says you have visions. You see fragments, correct? Until the transformation?”
Liz nodded. “Yes. All in washed out colours except for the item of significance.”
“And then when an individual has transformed he sees full and complete visions of the scenario?”
“That’s right, but less often,” Nadine told him. “Before we transform we see them every day, only fragmented. But after the transformation, it’s only once every couple of weeks, on average.”
“But the visions of those who haven’t transformed are still useful,” Jude put in. “They build up a picture and sometimes even seem to spark the full vision.”
“That is the same for us. Fragments until transformation, and then more complete premonitions. But me, my group, we do not see, as such.” Léon appeared to struggle to put it into words. “Our precognition comes to us as a rush of sensory information, usually without sight. The experience can be like sitting in the middle of a scene with your eyes closed.”
“That’s hard to imagine,” Nadine said.
“Let me illustrate.” Léon thought for a moment. “One of my group, Sara, heard the sound of a crying infant through several walls, as though in another part of the house. She heard heavy footsteps and a dog sniffing, its claws clipping on a tiled floor. She smelled the earthy, smoky scent of an extinguished fire, and felt cold air on her face and arms, and a man’s voice called, ‘Mariah.’ The footsteps paused. There was the honking sound of wild geese outside and a rustle of wind through grass. The creak of a door being pushed open and the sound of dripping. The dripping of a tap into water. Then a man’s voice gasping, ‘Mariah,’ again and sobbing. She smelled a powerful metallic odour and heard running footsteps, with a rush of the cold air past her face. The infant stopped crying and squealed with happiness.”
There was silence for some moments. Tears filled my eyes and I shook my head, distressed. “Did you find her in time?”
Léon straightened and gave me a penetrating gaze. “Did we find whom, Francesca?”
“The woman who ...” I trailed off, confused. I’d made an enormous assumption about what Sara’s peculiar sightless vision had represented.
“Yes, there was a woman.” Léon’s eyes lit up. “Do you know what she did?”
“No,” I said.
Cain watched me. “You have an idea though, don’t you? Go on. What is it?”
I hesitated and then blurted, “I thought it could be a woman with post-natal depression. She put her child down for a nap, and then went to run herself a bath and cut her wrists. Perhaps Sara heard the husband discovering his wife and running to pick up the baby while he cried.”
Léon sat stock still, not speaking.
“Is that how you try to interpret―” Nadine started asking, but she didn’t get a chance to finish her question.
“You’re right,” Léon said to me, his voice as intense as his eyes. “You’re absolutely right. That’s what happened. No, we didn’t get to her in time. Sara was devastated.”
I tried to reassure him. “It had to be practically impossible without seeing anything.”
“How would you have gone about finding her?”
I thought about it. “It seems like a country area, not a built-up city. The grasses and the geese and the fireplace―it’s like a small house in a farming area. Is there agriculture in Québec? I’m sorry, I don’t know much about the region.”
“I live in an agricultural area.” Léon’s excitement was growing. “There are a number of small towns and the Canada geese love to forage in the harvested cornfields.”
“Did the geese sound like they were close to the house?” I asked. “If they were close then the building might be near the edge of the cornfield. You could maybe use satellite imagery to search the area? It was cold so it was probably winter, and the fire had gone out so they must have a chimney, plus there was a dog, and a baby old enough to laugh and squeal when it recognised its father, and the woman’s name was Mariah. Are there any public birth records you could access to find out where a baby had been born to a Mariah in the local area, up to six months before?”
Léon stared at me raptly while we conversed as though no one else was in the room. “Our group has become pretty good at establishing possibilities using little things as clues,” I finished awkwardly. “That’s why we record so much detail.”
“It’s much easier since Frankie came along,” Jude said. “It’s like she’s inside our heads sometimes.”
“Yes, she seems be able to consolidate the fragments we describe,” Owen agreed, “sometimes more clearly an
d more completely than we can, ourselves.” He observed me for a moment as though Léon’s interest had kindled his own curiosity. From the corner of my eye I saw Nadine roll her eyes at the praise they were heaping on me.
Léon finally stopped staring at me. “We were never able to put the information together like that.” He gave a shake of his head, eyes regretful.
“Owen said you get messages from spirits,” Nadine commented. She tried to sound neutral but I could hear the scepticism in her voice.
Léon smiled at her. “We don’t know where the messages come from but, because we hear whispers and words, it does sometimes seem that we are hearing the voices of ghosts. Yousef is convinced he hears the spirits, although Tania scoffs at him. We hoped Celine―the medium―would be able to help us with translating the messages more clearly. But it was no good.”
My imagination fired. I wanted to know more of Léon and his circle, to see how they worked. I was suddenly glad he was here. He could gain a lot from our group and maybe go home empowered to help more people.
“Why did you come here, Léon?” Cain asked.
I looked at Cain, shocked by his thinly-veiled hostility. Léon considered Cain with a steady gaze for a few moments, and then drank from his wine glass.
“I hope you don’t object,” he said, his tone subdued. “I’ve lost my group. Sara was forced to relocate to the city to attend university. Tania has left the country to go travelling and Yousef has also become unavailable due to work commitments, I believe. I’m at a loss. Until they return to be with me again, or I find my other group members, I’m simply wasting time. I thought visiting you might teach me to become better at saving people.”
“I hope we can help,” Nadine told him, shooting Cain a reproachful glance.
Owen moved in to smooth over the discomfort. He talked Léon through some of our own rescues, explaining how we puzzled out the details of each event from the clues we got through the visions. Preoccupied by Cain’s hostility I wasn’t inclined to join in the conversation anymore, despite Léon directing several questions at me. He listened to what we could tell him with a desperate hunger, apparently absorbing every detail. But after a couple of hours he looked exhausted and Liz told him he ought to sleep. We all headed up above ground and said our goodbyes. When just Cain and I remained I turned a curious stare on him.
“What was that all about?”
“All what?”
“The way you spoke to Léon, asking him why he’s come. You were excited when you first found out Léon was coming to visit us. And when Owen initially discovered Léon existed, I saw how much you wanted to make contact but now you seem wary.”
“I’m trying to understand his intentions.” A hint of defensiveness crept into Cain’s voice. “It’s my job to make sure our group is safe.”
I was incredulous. “You think he could be an imposter?”
“He could be.”
I laughed. “He’s not. Can’t you see it?”
Cain regarded me, frowning, but when he replied he didn’t answer my question directly. “I don’t think he’s an imposter but I don’t understand why he’s here.”
“He wants to learn from us. Can’t you see how anxious he is to find a way to save people? He’s filled with just the same energy and passion for protecting you have but he needs help. His group’s been scattered. And those visions ... the premonitions they have. How weird is that? I wonder how many they’ve managed to rescue. He didn’t say, in the end.”
Cain didn’t seem to like what I was saying. I could see it in the tight line of his lips. But all he said was, “I don’t envy him working blind.”
I gave up and put my arms around him, pushing my fingers up through his tangle of dark hair. He crushed me close.
“Stay with me,” he said.
****
I attempted to reschedule the lunch date with Cain for Sunday but he’d promised the manager to do some work at the mobile home park Sunday so I said we should raincheck. Cain pressed me to choose another day and I proposed the following Sunday, wondering why it was so important to him. Maybe I shouldn’t have told him what Albion said about us not having normal dates. Next time my cousin criticised my relationship I would tell him where he could stick his judgements.
Before the exhibition on Saturday Albion and I went to visit Vanessa at my father’s house. She made us sandwiches while Albion chattered on. He offered her a last minute invitation to the exhibition.
“I’ve got an extra ticket that will just go to waste if you don’t want it, Ness.”
I was surprised. “Why do you have an extra?”
“I bought three. Just in case.”
“In case of what?” Albion couldn’t meet my eyes and I nudged him, realising. “Were you hoping Ethan would come after all?”
“Maybe,” he said with dignity, “but I was right first time. He’s not interested. So there is now a spare ticket.”
“Aw, it sounds really cool but I’ve got my gym class,” Vanessa said.
“Ooohh.” Albion’s eyes sparkled. “How’s Muscular Matt?”
“Good.” She gave a shy grin. “We’re going running together.”
“What?” Albion held up his hand for a high five. “Go, Ness! Who asked, you or him?”
Her eyes sparkled. “I suggested it, kind of casually, but he mentioned it again yesterday. We’ve scheduled a morning run for Monday.”
He whooped. “Look at you! Asking boys out. Is this our Ness?” he asked me, elbowing my ribs. I congratulated her.
Dad had been in touch, Vanessa told me as we ate, asking about me and wanting to know if I’d seen Mum since my stay in hospital. I didn’t want Dad to know what was going on in my life in any way at all, even if it was only to let him indulge a little parental rivalry. As it happened I’d invited Mum to stay with me and Albion and she said she would. In her last email she mentioned my next term break as a possibility. The last thing I wanted was Dad finding some excuse to come home early and interfere in my catch up with Mum so I hadn’t mentioned it to him. Luckily, Vanessa had also been evasive. It was much better our father didn’t know what either of us did with our time these days.
“He’s hired a new PA,” she added with a mischievous smile.
My jaw dropped. “He sacked Starr?”
“No, he made her his Media Appearances Coordinator. He made up a position for her. Basically, all she has to do is make sure he gets out of bed for TV and radio interviews, choose his ties, and then schmooze with the presenters and producers. She’s calling it a promotion.”
I shook my head in mild disgust but couldn’t feel angry. I’d finally stopped helping Starr out weeks ago, claiming I was too busy with my studies. She shifted her questions onto Vanessa but obviously that hadn’t worked out. This new role sounded like something that would suit Starr’s ability level much better than the PA role, and maybe now Dad could get his tour back on track.
We left Vanessa to get ready for her gym class and headed home to change for the exhibition. Albion buzzed about it all the way home to the Old House. Poor guy, he was so starved for culture in Augur’s Well after his gap year in Europe. “Let’s go for a glass of wine afterwards,” he said. “A new bar opened next to the museum last month.”
“Maybe. But I don’t want to be out too late.”
Albion groaned. “I won’t make you late for your nightly Cain worshipping session,” he huffed.
“Shut up.” I contemplated teasing him about Ethan’s lack of interest in coming to the exhibition but couldn’t bring myself to do it. “There’s mutual worshipping, I’ll have you know,” I contented myself by saying.
“That’s the one and only reason I condone it.”
“Like you even have a say in it,” I retorted.
As we turned into the front yard Albion gave a surprised “What the heck?” I followed his gaze and found a young man seated on our front porch. Was it ... oh, good Lord. It was Léon. He sprang up with a smile.
“Who in t
he world ...?” Albion started, looking at me accusingly.
I thought fast. “Friend of a friend. On holiday here. Didn’t expect him to come visit, though.” I had no idea how Léon had even found my house.
We climbed out of the car and he approached. Albion shot me a look across the top of the pink car that plainly said, Holy shit this guy’s hot! I wondered briefly if it were possible Léon could be Albion’s type. Unfortunately, the way he held himself, not to mention the way he looked at me, screamed ‘straight male.’
“Francesca, I apologise for coming here without your permission,” he said, his expression earnest. “Owen went to his study group today and I had nothing to do. I saw your address in his book and figured out how to get here on the train. I hope you don’t mind. Please send me away if it is any difficulty.”
I wasn’t sure what to say for a moment but then Albion, still ogling Léon, shot me another look. I smiled politely, introduced him to my cousin, and welcomed Léon inside. Albion sat him on the sofa and made coffee.
“I have questions,” Léon told me while Albion was in the kitchen. “I truly hope you don’t mind my unexpected arrival. I would have telephoned first but my cell does not work here. I need to purchase a local card.”
“It’s fine,” I said, although uneasy. “What questions?”
“I want to understand more about the visions.” He gazed at me intently. “I need to know more. I need to find ways to do what Cain’s people can do, to solve the mysteries in our premonitions.’
I checked for Albion and dropped my voice. “I’ll tell you anything that might help.”
“Are there others like you?” he asked immediately.
“What do you mean?”
“Others with your gift.”
“My gift?”
He shifted restlessly. “Your ability to solve the visions. Owen says no, he does not know of any others, but I thought perhaps you might.” The green eyes felt like they were looking into my soul and for an instant I was frightened. Disoriented.
“How do you take it? I’ll bring cream,” Albion called, clinking cups in the kitchen.
Thankfully, Léon didn’t notice his heavy innuendo. “Strong with just a little milk.”