Now You See Me

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Now You See Me Page 2

by Debbie Viguié


  Someone’s watching me.

  2

  Opal spun around and looked up the street. She didn’t see anyone, but the sensation of being watched grew more intense with every passing second. Maybe it had been a bad idea to go to the store alone. She should have asked her aunt what kind of neighborhood this was. There were lots of places in Los Angeles that it wasn’t safe to walk alone. Maybe it was the same here.

  If it was dangerous, though, surely her aunt would have warned her.

  Then again Aunt Tanya had told her that she was practically an adult. Maybe she didn’t feel the need to alert her to trouble.

  She turned back around, but before she could continue on her way she looked down the street. There, at the corner where she was supposed to turn, was a cemetery. Her stomach twisted. She’d only been to a cemetery three times in her life. They weren’t the kind of thing she even saw on a regular basis back home. You had to go out of your way to get to one. Here, it was there, within view of her front door.

  The more she stared at it, the more freaked out she got. Memories of the three funerals she had been to came flooding back, leaving her cold and shaking with emotion.

  She glanced back at the door to the house. It was there, just a handful of steps away. She could go back inside and ask Aunt Tanya to go with her, to show her the way since it was a new neighborhood. There’d be no shame in that.

  Then again, she didn’t want her aunt thinking that she was going to have to watch out for her all the time. She needed some independence and privacy and she wasn’t likely to get those if she couldn’t even walk two blocks by herself.

  It’s just a cemetery. It’s no big deal. It’s not like anything there can hurt you, she told herself. Resolutely she turned away from the house, prepared to continue on to the store.

  The next moment she bit back a scream.

  There, standing at the corner with the cemetery just behind him was a guy wearing a dark pea coat and staring at her intently. He hadn’t been there five seconds earlier. She was sure he hadn’t. She stared for a moment, trying to will herself to move forward. He looked young, about her age, but there was something about the way he stood, the way he held himself that made him seem older somehow.

  It’s just one guy. He’s probably staring because I’m acting like a lunatic, she told herself.

  Still, she didn’t want to walk any closer to him. It might just be one guy, but his sudden appearance and the way he was standing seemed sinister to her. She forced herself to take a deep breath. She was being ridiculous and she knew that if she gave in to her unreasoning terror that she’d be freaked out every time she had to walk this way.

  She stepped forward.

  He didn’t move.

  He’s probably just waiting for someone.

  She took another step.

  He still didn’t move.

  He’s probably worried that there’s something wrong with me and that I’m going to come after him.

  She forced herself to walk forward. Her pace was fast. The sooner she got this over with the sooner she’d be able to relax.

  Or run.

  By the time she made it to the corner he still hadn’t moved. She glanced down the street she was supposed to walk down. Her aunt had told her to turn left and the store would be on the right hand side a block down. That meant she’d have to cross the street in front of her either here or down closer to the store.

  She double checked that there was no oncoming traffic and then started to cross. It put her closer to the guy, but she didn’t want to give any indication that she was afraid. Once in Los Angeles she’d gone to see a play with a friend’s family. When they had left the theater they had to walk through a gauntlet of homeless people and gang members to get back to their car. It had been five of the most terrifying minutes of her life, but her friend’s father had whispered to her to walk with confidence. Most would-be attackers were cowards at heart and would only go after people that looked like they wouldn’t put up a fight. Unless they were insane, then all bets were off.

  Please don’t let that guy be insane.

  Just as she reached the far sidewalk the guy raised a hand. “Good afternoon,” he called.

  She wanted to just ignore him, but was afraid that might make things worse. It could also be seen as a sign of fear, which in this case, would be totally right.

  “Afternoon,” she answered back, heart in her throat. She turned and kept walking, forcing herself to maintain the same pace and not speed up. She strained her ears, listening for the sound of running footsteps behind her. She couldn’t hear any.

  Fortunately she saw the store right in front of her. With a sigh of relief she put on a burst of speed and covered the last few steps quickly. She glanced behind her as she pushed open the door, and was relieved to see that he wasn’t following her.

  She stepped inside the store, let the door close, and turned around, ready to go find the few things she needed so she could get back to the house.

  She screamed and jumped backwards, slamming into the door, as she saw the guy who had been watching her standing five feet in front of her.

  She scrambled to try and move and pull the door open so she could get back outside. The guy stared at her, clearly startled, and slowly raised his hands to shoulder height.

  A large man with red hair raced up. “Is everything okay?”

  She pointed to the guy in the pea coat. Before she could say anything, though, the guy spoke up.

  “I’m sorry, Wes. It’s my fault, I think I startled her,” he said.

  “You...you were following me,” she accused.

  “Technically no. I got here first. I didn’t actually know this was where you were headed. So, you surprised me as much as I surprised you,” he said, lowering his arms.

  “Alright then,” Wes said, nodding and turning to go.

  “Oh, Wes, I have this for you,” the guy said, fishing a small bag out of his left pocket and handing it to the other man.

  “Thanks,” Wes said. “You have something for me to sign?”

  The guy pulled a notepad and pen out of the same pocket and handed them to Wes who scribbled his name and handed it back. He nodded and then headed toward a counter labeled Customer Service. The guy put the notebook and pen back in his pocket before looking up at her.

  “What was that?” she asked, mind conjuring up half a dozen possibilities for what was in the bag. None of them were good.

  “Delivery. My dad owns the pharmacy up the block. I help him out with deliveries sometimes when he’s slammed.”

  “I’ve never heard of a pharmacy that delivers,” she said.

  “Really? Where are you from?”

  She opened her mouth to tell him but then snapped it shut again. She didn’t know this guy and for all she knew she could have just witnessed a drug deal.

  “I never saw you pass me,” Opal said a few seconds later.

  “That’s because I walked on the other side of the street and cut over at the other crosswalk. I walked a lot faster than you.”

  “And why did you do that?”

  “Because I was afraid after the way you looked at me that if I walked behind you, you’d think I was a stalker or something.”

  She let go of the door handle. Maybe she was being paranoid. Even if he was a bad guy, though, she had a strong feeling that he wouldn’t try something in such a public place.

  “Why were you staring at me?” she asked.

  “I was walking along when I saw you. At first I thought you were confused, disoriented. It can take a while to get used to a new city. I was worried you might need help.”

  “And what makes you think I’m new to the city?”

  “Because you are,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

  “How do you know?” she pressed.

  “Because I’m pretty sure that you’re Miss Sanders’ niece. I know she was going to bring a niece home to live with her. I’ve never seen you around before and you we
re standing in front of her house when I laid eyes on you. I had been planning to say hello and ask if you needed directions anywhere when it became apparent that you thought I was some kind of serial killer.”

  “Oh.”

  It sounded reasonable enough. She forced herself to unclench her fists. “Sorry, I’m a bit...tense,” she said.

  “No kidding,” he said, starting to grin. “I promise you, though, I’m one of the good guys.”

  She nodded.

  “So, hello, welcome to the neighborhood.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You can call me Mal.”

  Now she couldn’t help but smirk.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Mal means ‘bad’ in Spanish. I thought you were one of the good guys.”

  “I am. You can call me Malachi if it makes you feel better. It means ‘messenger’ in Hebrew.”

  “And have you brought me a message?”

  “Yes. You’re beautiful.”

  She didn’t know what she’d expected him to say but that most certainly was not it. She felt herself flushing which irritated her.

  “I bet you use that line on all the girls,” she said stonily.

  “It’s not a line and you’re the first one I’ve told that to.”

  She snorted derisively.

  “Wow, where you’re from the guys must be really shallow and insincere.”

  “Only most of them,” she said.

  “Well, I can assure you that I’m one of the-”

  “Good guys,” she said in unison with him.

  He shrugged and gave her a sheepish smile.

  This time she couldn’t help but notice that he had a great smile. He also had gorgeous, dark blue eyes and short, black hair.

  “So, can I help you find anything?” he asked.

  “Oh, yes,” she said, remembering why she was there. “Spaghetti.”

  “Aisle four,” he said.

  “Thanks.”

  She turned and angled her way to aisle four. She was relieved that he didn’t follow her but also a bit disappointed.

  Make up your mind! Either he’s cute or he’s scary. Stop changing your mind, she lectured herself.

  It only took her a couple of minutes to get the spaghetti makings. She also grabbed some toaster waffles from the freezer section since it was probably a safe bet that her aunt didn’t have any breakfast foods on hand. Finished getting what she wanted she wound up standing behind Mal in the checkout line. She noticed that he was buying candles, a deck of playing cards, and a bottle of apple juice.

  After she checked out she walked to the front door where he had been waiting for her.

  “Can I walk you home? I’ll stay on the other side of the street if it makes you feel better,” he said with a gleam in his eyes.

  She smiled. “Tell you what, I’ll let you walk on the same side. But you’ll have to walk behind me.”

  “Wow, I’m honored, really,” he said, voice teasing.

  “You should be. I don’t let just anyone walk behind me, you know.”

  “So, I’m assuming I’ll see you at school on Monday,” he said as they left the store.

  “I guess so. I’m a junior.”

  “So am I,” he said with a grin. “Maybe we’ll get to hang out a bit.”

  “That would be cool,” Opal said. Maybe her aunt was right. Maybe it was going to be easier to make friends than she had thought it was going to be. “Any tips?”

  He shrugged. “I imagine it’s the same where you’re from. Everyone has their own clique, some teachers are cool, most aren’t.”

  “Sounds right,” she said.

  “So, what brings you out here to live with your aunt?”

  “My father died.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  They came to the corner and he pointed to the second house down on the opposite side of the street as hers. “That’s my house.”

  “Good to know.”

  He hesitated for a moment. “I’m guessing you don’t have a mother either?”

  “I honestly don’t know. She vanished when I was five. The police searched for her for months, but they never found her.”

  “That’s heavy.”

  She shrugged. “At least I don’t volunteer that information to random strangers anymore.”

  “Ah, so you don’t consider me a stranger?” he said with a sly grin.

  “No, you’re a stranger. You’re just not completely random. After all, I know where you live.”

  “At least you think you do,” he said with a laugh. “I could be lying about that just to get you to talk to me.”

  She glared at him, scarcely believing he had said that. His smile quickly faded.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “That wasn’t funny,” she said.

  He stared at her for a moment and then he grimaced. “I’m sorry, you’re right. It was in bad taste. Forget I said that. Of course I live in that house. You can come meet my dad if you want. He’ll vouch for me.”

  “Now you’re rambling,” she said, softly, forgiving him because she knew he hadn’t meant to put her on edge.

  They had made it to her house.

  “This is me,” she said.

  “I know.”

  “Well, it was nice to meet you, Mal, I'm Opal Grant,” she said, offering her hand.

  “It’s a pleasure meeting you.”

  He took her hand in his and she felt a tingling sensation in her palm, not quite an electric shock, but definitely enough to startle her.

  “That’s weird,” she said before she could stop herself.

  “What?” he asked.

  She looked into his eyes and forgot what she was going to say. It felt like everything around them had stopped and there was just this moment and the two of them frozen in time. She could hear her heart pounding in her chest as she watched the corners of his mouth tilt up in a smile.

  Then he let go of her hand and the rest of the world came rushing back in. She felt out of breath like she’d been running far and fast and had suddenly stopped.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “I’ll see you later,” he said before turning and starting back down the street.

  She pulled her cell out of her pocket and quickly took a picture of him. She wanted to send it to her friends back home when she told them about this.

  He froze and then turned slightly.

  “Did you just take a picture of me?” he asked.

  “Yes, how did you know?” she asked, startled.

  “Just...a hunch. Please, I really don’t like having my picture taken,” he said.

  She thought he was joking but then he turned his face further toward her and she could tell he was dead serious.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” she said, tripping slightly over the words.

  “It’s okay. I’d appreciate it if you deleted it, though.”

  Her curiosity was killing her. Why on earth would he want her doing that? Maybe he wasn’t a good guy like he claimed. “Okay,” she said, faking the motion with her fingers. She would show his picture to her aunt and ask about him as soon as she got inside the house.

  But he didn’t move. He just stood there. He finally met her eyes and there was a fierceness, an intensity there that hadn’t been before.

  “Sorry,” she whispered.

  Before she realized what she was going to do she deleted the picture.

  He smiled at her the second she had and it sent a shiver down her spine. He turned and started walking back up the street. A second later she raced into the house, closed the door and locked it as fast as she could.

  3

  “Everything okay?” Aunt Tanya asked as Opal rushed into the kitchen.

  “Yeah, fine,” she said.

  “Did you find the store alright?”

  Opal held the grocery bag aloft. “It was easy,” she said.

  She walked over to the counter and set the bag down. �
�I met one of our neighbors, a guy on the other side of the street two houses from the corner.”

  “Malachi Hart?”

  Opal nodded.

  “He’s a nice boy,” Tanya said with a bit of hesitation.

  “A little strange,” Opal said.

  “Yes. He is that,” Tanya said, looking relieved that Opal had said it.

  “He’s not like a crazy stalker type, though, right?”

  Tanya chuckled. “No, nothing like that.”

  “That’s a relief,” Opal grinned, mostly to hide the fact that she’d actually been worried.

  They made the spaghetti and when they sat down to eat it Opal found herself only half-heartedly picking at it. It didn’t taste like the spaghetti her dad used to make. The worst part was she didn’t even know how he’d made it or with what brand of sauce or if he made his own sauce. She’d never be able to recreate it. She felt tears stinging her eyes and realized that she was exhausted and all that she really wanted to do was go to bed.

  Her aunt got up to get some more water and returned to the table with two vitamin tablets that she set down in front of Opal.

  “Don’t forget the vitamins your doctor prescribed,” she said.

  “Right,” Opal said, popping them in her mouth and swallowing them down with some water.

  Her doctor back home had been a friend of her father’s. The man had come to the funeral and insisted that she take some vitamins while her body was so run-down and stressed out. He’d tasked her aunt with making sure she remembered to take them.

  Once they had finished eating and the dishes were done she excused herself and headed to her room. She got ready for bed, but then realized she wasn’t ready just yet to try and go to sleep. Her mind was too busy sifting back over the events of the day.

  She started unpacking, putting clothes away in the dresser and the closet. She worked until she heard her aunt climbing the stairs which seemed to squeak much more loudly at night than they had earlier that afternoon. She stuffed her remaining luggage underneath the bed, deciding to finish unpacking later.

  “Goodnight,” her aunt called.

  “Goodnight.”

  Opal hesitated. Back home she’d always slept with her door open. She was always afraid that something would happen to her father and she wouldn’t hear or see anything until it was too late. She knew she had been paranoid. Having a parent vanish on you could do that to a person.

 

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