by Amanda McGee
“Stay,” she mumbled. And with that she fell into a deep sleep.
“I guess I can stick around. You two don’t seem totally crazy.”
“Give it time,” I said.
Blaze scooped Sadie up, his biceps unresponsive to her weight. Sadie’s sleepy head fit comfortably in the nook of his chest and shoulder. Her dainty body cradled between Blaze’s sturdy arms like he was built to support her.
“Where’s her room?” he whispered.
My index finger pointed toward the staircase. Blaze took a step then paused, contemplating.
Duh, he doesn’t live here.
My fatigued body stretched from its reclined position and led Blaze to my room—her room now. Carefully, he placed a lethargic Sadie onto the bed, covering her with a blanket. The day, though not particularly hectic, had exhausted us all. Blaze’s eyes scanned the room, examining its contents while intermittently trailing back to Sadie. A smile formed on my sleepy face.
“It’s weird isn’t it?” I asked.
“What is?”
“This. Us.”
Blaze’s answering nod was almost imperceptible. He exited into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind him. The two of us lingered at the top of the stairs. I offered him Mom’s room, since the guest room had no bed. He declined stating the couch was far better than some of the places he had slept. I dared not open that line of questioning.
“I know,” I blurted as he descended the stairs. “I know that my life is supposed to evolve and change but I never predicted this.”
“I was never sure of what I was searching for until I knew you existed.”
And with that he disappeared into the darkness of the living room.
****
Chapter Eight
Had to run. See you soon, Blaze.
I had found his note on the kitchen counter with my favorite coffee mug pinning down the top left corner of the paper. Considering we had no food left, only coffee, it was quite perceptive of him to think that’d be the first place I would look.
For someone who had been dreading a boring, emotional summer at home, I had sure found myself anything but bored. This proved humorous considering I had not actually done anything; instead the weird situations found me.
“Maybe next I will sprout wings and fly off this porch,” I mumbled to myself.
Trying to imagine what else could happen was impossible. In this short time, I had managed to stumble upon secrets, siblings, and tales of a magic world, so psychic powers didn’t seem farfetched.
“So I take it you had a rough night too,” said an unexpected voice.
Startled, I swiveled left to investigate the source. Sadie and her knotted mess of hair peered around the screen door through squinty eyes, outwardly annoyed at the sun for shining so brightly.
“Night? Sadie you slept all day.”
“Wow, well I guess that explains why I’m so hungry,” she said, joining in on my laughter.
“We should probably buy more groceries so we don’t starve. Kate only bought enough for me for a day or two. First you might want to fix yourself a little.”
Sadie delicate hands skimmed her clothes and face searching for whatever it was that I found so amusing. Once her hand located the snarled wad of blonde hair piled atop her head it too became entangled in the mess. With her back to me, struggling to hide what I had already seen, Sadie ran her fingers through her rat’s nest, while I worked on containing my giggle-fit.
“Can we practice our powers today?” she asked. “Maybe we can find out what Blaze can do. I’ll bet he has a really great power. He’d have to. A big, strong guy like him can’t have some girly super power.”
“You’d think. He’s not here though. Left a note in the kitchen.”
The words had barely left my lips before Sadie charged back through the screen door like she had been set on fire. Her footsteps thudded across the living room floor, fading in volume as she neared the kitchen. Silence reigned for several seconds, I wondered if she’d finally combusted. Uncrossing my legs, I placed one foot on the porch and winced at the pins-and-needles assault on my unsuspecting size nines. This happened to me often. I found it difficult being comfortable with my feet firmly planted on the floor.
Yes, I understand irony.
The thud of Sadie’s footsteps resumed. She was coming back to the porch and sounded more distraught than before. I leaned back into my chair, ready for the fireworks.
“He’s gone!” Sadie yelled from inside the house. “He said he would stay!”
The screen door flung open, slamming into the arm of my rocker, and ricocheting off.
“Dang, Sadie. Calm down.”
“But he left!”
“And he said he’d come back. He has life you know.”
Was it naive to believe that sibling solidarity could be instantaneous? Maybe it was too much too fast for him.
It was too much too fast for us all. Immediate unity was a pipedream that Sadie cooked up while I stirred the pot. Shared genetics or not, we were strangers and comfort was not often produced overnight. Without knowing why, I had begun to mirror Sadie's distress. Blaze's departure had caused me little worry up until this point.
“He probably just has errands to run,” I said, shaking off my own doubts. “He has been overseas for awhile.”
Sadie’s vibrancy had vanished. She slumped into a hunched-over position, choosing not to accept what I believed to be a rather logical conclusion. Searching her face, I hoped for a sign that I was reading too much into her mood change or that she was overreacting.
She’s overreacting.
She lifted her head enough to flash her heartbreaking puppy-dog eyes. I, too, was disappointed in Blaze’s exit but Sadie’s dejection far surpassed my own. It was my turn to do the uplifting for once.
“He will come back, Sade. Do you want to go to town with me?”
“I like that you called me ‘Sade’.”
“A nickname from me is sure sign that I intend to keep you around for awhile.”
The ever-evolving, nerve-racking situation that had become our lives needed to be put on hold for a spell. No pun intended. It was time for a bit of normalcy.
“Do you want to drive?” I asked.
“Your Jeep? Absolutely!”
To cheer Sadie up and disguise my post-traumatic stress developed as a result of our last trip to town, I was more than prepared to hand over my keys. Sadie beamed. I said a silent prayer for a safe trip with no ominous visions.
“You might want to change first.”
Having apparently changed in her pajamas overnight, Sadie stood barefoot wearing an old concert tee that swallowed her whole. The shirt skimmed the top of her kneecaps making the presence of pants a mystery. As I would expect, she wore the t-shirt like an elegant evening gown but barefoot and pant-less could cause a stir in town.
Minutes later, she returned to the porch. Sadie surprised me yet again. She was now wearing an outfit strikingly similar to something I might consider. We both wore jeans—tattered with a few holes, but in a stylish way, not frumpy. When I say ‘stylish’ I mean I paid thirty-five-dollars, with a coupon, for denim fabric with holes and scratches.
Don’t get me started on that.
“We sure like white and gray,” I quipped.
Sadie’s faded jeans slumped over most of her shoes, making only the toe visible. Gray suede flats replaced her girly sandals. Sadie wore a cropped gray vest over a simple white tank top that clung to her narrow hips and shiny, beaded bracelets jingled on her wrist. I sported a thin, gray cardigan and plain white t-shirt that I had worn so often it was only a matter of time before it disintegrated.
“Wow, what are the chances?”
The grocery store was minutes away, yet I held my breath most of the drive. Our previous automobile experience had left me traumatized. Sadie, on the other hand, seemed to be back to her usual perkiness. Lucky for us both that she couldn’t see the video in my head of what could have happened
that night or we would be walking.
After several grueling minutes of my lump-in-throat, lungs-in-a-vice-grip anxiety, the car came to a stop in front of the grocery store. I swung open the door and leapt out. Squatting between my car and the truck in the neighboring parking spot, I tried to pull myself together before could Sadie notice the state I was in.
“Alex?”
“What? Yeah. I had to tie my shoe.”
I flashed a smile and led the way into the store before she had time to notice I was faking it. I strolled up and down each aisle, taking much longer than necessary. My nervousness dwindled but I felt no need to rush. Sadie pranced from one end of the store to the other in search of sodas and some type of fruit whose name I couldn’t repeat if my life depended on it.
“That guy was checking you out,” Sadie said, startling me.
“What? Who?”
“Over there by the milk and eggs. He’s cute, you should go talk to him.”
“Oh, no. I don’t think so. Plus, I’m starving.”
“Fine, well I found everything I needed,” she said. “How about you?”
“Umm, yeah. I think this should do it.”
“Easy Mac and cereal? That’s your choices?”
“I got other things too! You just have to cook them. Sometimes I don’t feel like cooking. Stop judging.”
Sadie threw worried looks my way as we stood in line at the checkout, leading me to ditch my turtle-paced movements. We had enough on our plates without dealing with my silly anxiety. Though, I was grateful my weirdness diverted her attention away from the cute guy. I was in no mood to flirt. In fact, that mood had never struck me.
On the trip home, I gave the best distraction and performance I could think of. I sang one of my favorite songs at the top of my lungs. For three minutes and three seconds we either were or, at least, pretended to be normal.
“I love this song!” Sadie said. “Even if I don’t have a clue what Santeria is.”
“I don’t have a clue about any of it. It’s just fun to sing.”
I explained to Sadie that this wasn't just any song to me. At a No Doubt concert, (Go figure.) Kate and I waited between acts in the sweltering July heat. Though we were under the outdoor amphitheater’s large roof, the temperature was unbearable. I knew once No Doubt came on stage inspired us all to bounce around with them, I would surely die of a heat stroke.
The minutes crept by. The crowd became restless. Sweat trickled from everyone’s foreheads and no one had managed to keep the hairstyle they arrived with. We were all drippy messes. Music played through the speakers, no genre in particular, and none that provided any source of entertainment because most were not well known. Then, it began. Through the speakers, the Sublime tune rang out and the once agitated amphitheater belted out every word.
I sat amazed that everyone knew the words and that I didn’t. Though I could not join in the moment personally, it inspired me to ignore the heat and vow to learn the song as soon as I got home. Three minutes and three seconds later, the crowd was refreshed. No Doubt emerged from behind the curtain and we bounced with no heat strokes in sight.
“I’ll bet that was so fun!” Sadie yelped as she exited the Jeep. “We should go to a show sometime; I’d like to see that side of you.”
“That doesn’t happen very often.”
“Well, it should. Have some fun sometimes!”
“What do you mean by that?” I asked, insulted. “That’s like the third time you’ve said that.”
“I just mean you should relax more. Be that girl more often.”
Sadie had known me a few days and had already discovered my uptight tendencies. Her words were something that had paraded around my brain for years, but personalities were a tough thing to adjust. Most of my life was spent dwelling within the confines of my mind. It was safer there.
“Is that why you’ve never had a boyfriend?” Sadie asked, placing the groceries on the kitchen countertop. “Taking the safe route and only having one in your dreams?”
“Ah!” I snorted.
Did she read my mind?
I knew she was right. But that was a can of worms I was not ready to open.
Put the can opener away.
“Can you cook?” I asked, changing the subject.
“I can burn or I can microwave. Which would you prefer?”
“Neither! Here’s your chance to learn. Mom taught me, now I’ll teach you.”
Aside from life, love, and super-powered abilities, my Mom also gave me the gift of culinary knowledge. I wanted to know how to prepare meals so if one day I had a family of my own, they would not be forced to rely on take-out. Mom wanted to teach me should something happen to her, I would not starve or have to live on Mike’s nachos.
Every Saturday we would choose a recipe that I would prepare and cook by myself. Mom would “supervise,” as she called it. Thankfully, following directions was like breathing to me so I never found it difficult to do solo. Though my culinary knowledge became extensive, I still lived on Mike's nachos.
“I don’t know, Alex. I’m hungry and I would very much appreciate my meal to be edible.”
“Where is that positive outlook? If you can read and follow directions, you can cook. Plus, its just spaghetti, you can’t really mess it up.”
With a grunt, she slid off her stool and tied her hair back into a tiny, messy bun that curled up at the base of her hairline with an elastic band she kept on her wrist at all times. A thin, black elastic was about as close to jewelry as I was willing to go. We both sported hair ties on our wrists. It was an odd trait to share especially since my hair was long and thick and often annoyed me and Sadie's was much shorter and tidier. I supposed we all were capable of hair emergencies.
“All right, where do I start?”
In no time at all the hamburger was sizzling in the pan, the noodles were boiling, and the garlic bread was golden brown. Sadie's self-doubt had vanished around the time her bread buttering skills were solidified, thereby confirming my teaching abilities. Before us sat a beautifully cooked meal that smelled as appetizing as it looked.
“It’s not burned!” Sadie said. “It really looks great!”
Her animated hand gestures tipped over a glass of sweet tea sending ice cubes sliding across the countertop and sticky sweet liquid dripping onto the floor. Even this did not sway her happy moment. Her excitement was contagious and I was equally pleased about accomplishing our task.
“See you can boil noodles,” I said. “You’re evolving.”
In that moment, I wondered if Mom could see us—her daughters, together, sitting down to enjoy a meal that we prepared ourselves. Although the reasons for our separation were still hard to fathom, I knew Mom would have given anything to share the moment with us.
After our meal, Sadie nominated herself to wash the dishes. I was not the least bit disappointed. I hated washing dishes and was looking forward to a long, hot bath. With all the commotion, I was thankful I managed to find time to shower at all.
“If you’re sure you don’t need—“ I saw the bright flashes began. I lunged for the stair rail but collapsed before my hands could reach it. Gripping my head, I rolled side-to-side wishing the ride to end.
I could sense Sadie nearby but I could not see or hear her. In frustrated anger, I slammed each hand onto the floor and lay still. The images immediately became one decipherable vision and then vanished.
I had done it. I had controlled the madness.
I recalled the terror and alarming message of the premonition and my celebration ended. Just as before the scene hid behind a brilliant light but the emotions involved were palpable. Fury and terror encircled me. Sounds of destruction played like perfectly timed background music. Something was coming and it was full of rage.
“We aren’t safe here,” I said.
Sadie was kneeling next to me with a look of pure elation that I was once again conscious. I watched her relief fade to fear as she comprehended my words.
&n
bsp; “Why aren’t we safe?”
“We have to go now,” I said, scrambling to get to my feet.
“Go where? What is happening?”
“I don’t know, something is coming.”
“Alex, what did you see? You are scaring me.”
The panic in her voice mimicked the panic flooding my body. Every inch of my being was screaming to run but my comprehension was scatterbrained and the floor felt like quicksand. Sadie’s bony knees trembled as she waited for further instruction, yet I could provide no assistance. The two of us paced at the foot of the staircase like two insects trapped inside a jar.
“I don’t know what is coming. I couldn’t see anything I just felt it. It was bad, Sadie.”
“Then let’s go! Why are we just standing here?”
The sound of water splashing to the floor was just the reality check I needed to snap out of my trance. Sadie ran into the kitchen as the dishwater overflowed from the sink and onto the floor in a wave of soap bubbles.
“Where are my keys?” I yelled. “Where did I leave them?”
Calm was not a part of this scenario. I struggled to decide our next move and found it miraculous that I had managed to get this far. I was incapable of processing any further than locating my car keys. The vision had my brain going haywire in the painful fog of a migraine.
“Here they are,” Sadie said, tossing them to me with immaculate precision.
The keys landed in my palm as a brilliant glow illuminated the house. I prepared for another vision to begin but this time it wasn’t in my head.
****
Chapter Nine
Light radiated through every window like the sun had returned and was now hovering in my front yard. All movement and conversation halted while our terror escalated.