Don't Die, Dragonfly

by Linda Joy Singleton

  “Melted ice cream,” Thorn said, picking up a soggy, dripping container that had once been Heavenly Hash. She licked her fingers. “But it still tastes yummy.”

  “I wonder why Nona started cleaning without me?”

  “She must have got interrupted. It happens all the time at my place.”

  “Her car is here,” I said with a peek out the front window. “So she has to be around somewhere.”

  We left the kitchen and went through the rest of the house. I was starting to get worried, when I opened her bedroom door and found her sleeping.

  “My father makes little snoring sounds like that, too,” Thorn whispered. “She looks so peaceful.”

  “How can she just go to sleep with food melting in the kitchen?” I shut the door quietly.

  “She must be really tired.”

  “Nona has been working late hours,” I admitted. “I’ll let her sleep and finish up in the kitchen.”

  Thorn jumped right in and started cleaning with me. Most of the food was still frozen—except for the ice cream and a soggy bag that used to be ice cubes. As I stacked food back into the freezer, my fingers stung with icy cold. By the time I was done, my hands were almsot completely numb.

  Running hot water over my chilled fingers helped a little. My hands warmed, tingling back to life. But the rest of me suddenly wasn’t feeling so well. My head throbbed and my vision blurred. I stared down at the sink, mesmerized by the water pouring over my fingers. As I watched, the water darkened in color, from clear to blood red. Spilling on silverware and plates, swirling down the drain, flowing over my skin.

  With a shriek, I stared down in horror at my hands. Was it really blood? Or was I going crazy? My left wrist throbbed, its color changing, too, as a dark shape with wings appeared etched in my flesh.

  A dragonfly tattoo.

  “NO!” I rubbed at the image. “Go away!”

  Thorn tossed down a rag she’d been using to wipe the counter and hurried over to me. “What’s wrong?”

  “The water! My wrist!” I cried, trembling. “It’s on me!”

  “What? Are you hurt?”

  “Look!” I stuck my arm out toward her. “Don’t you see it?”

  “See what?” She shook her head, and when I looked back down, my hand had returned to normal. The blood and the dragonfly were gone.

  “Talk to me, Sabine. Are you sick?”

  I gulped a deep breath. “It’s not me … it’s her.”

  “Who?”

  “Danielle.” Fear thumped with my rapid heartbeats. “Either I’m losing my mind or I just had a vision—a warning. Danielle’s in trouble.”

  “Go with your gut.” Thorn shut off the water faucet, then turned back to me. “Do you know her phone number?”

  “Yeah,” I said, relieved Thorn understood and didn’t ask any unnecessary questions. Seconds later, I was dialing the number.

  But it was busy.

  “Why doesn’t she have call waiting?” I complained, slamming the receiver down.

  “Want to keep trying?” Thorn asked.

  “I don’t think there’s time. I don’t know what’s going on, just that I’m supposed to help her.”

  “Then we’ll help her,” Thorn said. “Together.”

  I ran to the hook where Nona normally left her car keys, but they weren’t there. I thought about Nona’s recent tendency to hide things from herself, and I wasn’t sure if there was any point in looking for them. I went into her room and whispered softly, “Nona, I need to use your car. Do you know where you left your keys?”

  “Helene? Is that you? What do you need?” She rolled over and seemed to fall back to sleep. Nona was obviously exhausted; Helene was my mother’s name. Finding the keys could take time we didn’t have. We needed to get going.

  Walking to Danielle’s house wouldn’t be fast enough, so I went to the shed where I kept my bicycle. Nona had a bike, too, and I offered it to Thorn. We started to kick off, when I heard a motor and saw an approaching cloud of dust. A white Dodge truck roared to a stop in front of us.

  Dominic rolled down the window. “Need a ride?”

  I was tempted to ask if Dagger had been spying on me again, but I was so grateful for the offer that I just nodded. “Thanks. Driving will be faster.”

  Thorn was eyeing Dominic. Did she sense that he was different like us? Or was she interested in him the way Penny-Love had been? There wasn’t time for polite introductions, so I skipped that part and gave Dominic directions to Danielle’s house.

  When the truck slowed to a stop five minutes later, my seatbelt was already off and I flew up a stone walkway to the door. I pressed the bell, over and over, until a tall man I recognized as Danielle’s father showed up.

  Mr. Crother frowned at me. “One push of the bell would suffice.”

  “Where’s Danielle?”

  “Upstairs in her room.”

  “I have to see her now,” I said, aware that Thorn had come up beside me. “I tried to call, but the line was busy.”

  “I was on the computer.” He looked at us for a moment. “Go on up, but Danielle is probably sleeping. I haven’t seen her in hours.”

  “Hours?” I repeated uneasily. Then I bolted past him, up the stairs, Thorn’s footsteps pounding behind mine. I tried two doors, one was a linen closet and the other a bathroom, before I stepped into a feminine, pink-and-white room decorated with a shelf of dolls from other countries and a canopy bed covered with stuffed toys and a patchwork quilt.

  But there was no Danielle.

  “So where’s your friend?” Thorn asked.

  “Not here.” I frowned. “Something’s terribly wrong.”

  Mr. Crother appeared in the doorway and looked around with a puzzled expression. “That’s odd. I was sure Danielle was up here. She hasn’t been well and has been sleeping a lot.”

  Beyond the room’s cheerful pink decor, a gray aura of sadness was overwhelming. “So where is she?”

  Mr. Crother shrugged. “Maybe with her boyfriend.”

  “They broke up,” I told him.

  “They did? But she never said anything.”

  “Haven’t you noticed how unhappy she’s been?” I asked.

  “Well she hasn’t felt well. I thought it was a mild flu.”

  “I’m afraid it’s more than that.” I frowned. “Do you have any idea how long she’s been gone?”

  “She didn’t tell me she was leaving.” He rubbed his chin anxiously. “This isn’t like her. She’s always very dependable and let’s us know where she’s going. Danielle is such a good girl.”

  “What’s that on her pillow?” Thorn stepped into the room and picked up a paper. “An envelope—addressed to you.” She handed it to Mr. Crother.

  “See, I told you my girl is reliable. She just didn’t want to interrupt my work, so she left a note. She’s always doing thoughtful things like that.”

  He ripped into the envelope and withdrew a single sheet of paper. As he read, his face drained of color and he sagged against the bed.

  “What is it?” Thorn and I asked, coming to his side.

  “She can’t! She wouldn’t—” he choked on his words.

  “Is it from Danielle?”

  He nodded weakly and held out the letter. He looked as if he’d aged twenty years in seconds and seemed confused. “Read it. Tell me what you think.”

  I held the letter so Thorn could see to, then read the short scrawled message: “I can’t go on without him. Not anymore. Sorry I let everyone down … Danielle.”

  I gasped. “Ohmygod!”

  “This sounds like a sui—!” Thorn stopped when she saw the stricken look on Mr. Crother’s face. He grabbed the letter back and clutched it to his chest, clearly in shock.

  My visions had nothing to do with the vandalism, I realized. I’d been so focused on denying my gift and playing Nancy Drew that I hadn’t realized the danger for Danielle wasn’t from Evan—but from herself. And while getting back at Evan felt good, it was only a s
mall victory. Danielle was more important.

  Mr. Crother seemed to recover, jumping up and grabbing a phone. He forget about us as he barked out orders to the police. I was glad he was taking action, but would the police find her soon enough? An hourglass flashed in my head, not filled with sand, but with life minutes ticking away.

  Danielle could be anywhere—miles from here or hiding nearby. I had no idea how to find her. “Opal,” I thought desperately. “Interfere just this once, I’m begging you. I can’t do this alone.”

  I thought I heard a soft reply, You’re not alone.

  “So tell me where Danielle is,” I begged. Then I waited, listening for an answer. Only none came, and my frustration boiled to anger.

  “I didn’t ask for any of this!” I silently raged. “I can’t go through another tragedy, always wondering if I could have prevented it. You say I’m not alone, yet I’m standing here with no answers and no one to help me.”

  There was a tap on my shoulder and my fishhook earring slapped my neck as I turned to Thorn. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  I started to shake my head, then looked at Thorn—really looked—and realized that Opal was right. I wasn’t alone.

  “Thorn!” I exclaimed. “You can find anything, right?”

  “Most of the time. But what—”

  “What about people?” I interrupted, grasping her hands. “Can you find Danielle?”

  Thorn sorted through the stuffed animals on Danielle’s bed before picking up a pink bunny and hugging it, her eyes closed tight with concentration.

  “I’ve never done this before,” she murmured. “Not with a person.”

  “It can’t be that different than finding a fencing grip or lost keys.”

  “Oh, it’s different.” She frowned and drifted off somewhere with her mind. Long seconds had gone by before she finally spoke. “It’s faint—a sense of distance.”

  “How far?”

  “More than a mile, but I don’t know how much more. It’s not working!” She threw the pink bunny down. “I’m trying, really, but it isn’t just a game, it’s real life … or death. I’m not sure she’s—she’s still—”

  “Don’t even think that! You’re the one who says to be positive, so follow your own advice. Try harder—you can do it.”

  “Maybe if I hold something she’s touched recently.” She picked up the envelope Danielle’s father had discarded, and ran her fingers over the scrawled writing on the front.

  “Well?” I asked impatiently.

  “This is better. She’s somewhere familiar to her, a place that used to make her feel happy … now there’s only despair.”

  “Evan’s house?” I guessed.

  “Could be—but it doesn’t feel like a house. A large open place, grassy with benches.” She rubbed her forehead, wincing as if feeling pain.

  “A park?”

  “No, that doesn’t feel right. There’s some kind of school connection.”

  “The school quad? It’s grassy and there are benches. But I doubt she’d go there.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I bit my lip. How could I be sure of anything? If anyone had told me that Danielle was suicidal, I wouldn’t have believed that either. I’d gotten warnings, saw the bloody dragonfly. I should have known, been a better friend, tried to help her.

  You are helping, Opal assured. Open up your mind and trust yourself.

  And just like that, I got it. A lightning flash burst in my head, and I saw rows of tiered benches and a field of rough grass. A small shape lay crumpled on the dirt.

  “Not benches—bleachers!” I jumped excitedly. “I know where Danielle is!”

  “You do?” Thorn asked.

  “At the school. You were right about that.” I said grimly. “We have to get there before it’s too late—if it isn’t already!”

  Night had fallen, and when we hurried back to Dominic’s truck, he had the lights on and the motor running. After a quick explanation, Thorn and I hopped inside and Dominic revved the engine. We sped toward the school. No one complained when Dominic pushed us past the legal limit.

  I hoped that Dominic had an army of angels guiding him because he didn’t stop, only paused for a quick look, before speeding through two stop signs. Tires screeched as Dominic pulled into the school, not turning for the student parking lot, but roaring to the front lot reserved for teachers and buses.

  “The football field!” I breathed out. “She’s there—by the bleachers, where she watched Evan.”

  Thorn told us to go after her, while she’d get help. Dominic and I didn’t slow down, racing around buildings, breathing hard, feet pounding on pavement. We headed for the bleachers—and that’s where we found her.

  Lying on the dirt near the bleachers, still and fragile, blood pooling around her outstretched arm. She didn’t move and her face was deathly pale.

  “Ohmygod!” I gasped hoarsely. “We’re too late!”

  Dominic knelt beside her and felt for a pulse.

  “Is she—?” I asked in a trembling voice.

  “Not yet, but she’s in bad shape.”

  I let out a huge, relieved breath. “Hold on, Danielle,” I murmured. “You’re going to be okay.”

  There was no response.

  Dominic ripped off the strip of leather he wore on his arm as a perch for his falcon. He wrapped it tightly around Danielle’s wrist, slowing the flow of blood.

  There was sudden blinding light, and for a moment I thought angels were coming for Danielle, until I realized someone had switched on the field lights. Turning, I saw Thorn leading a young, nervous janitor over to us.

  Within minutes, there was a dizzy rush of voices, sirens, and uniforms. Danielle got first aid and was then whisked away in an ambulance. I went with her, since she seemed so alone, in need of a friend. Thorn and Dominic said they’d meet us at the hospital after they answered questions from the police.

  My first ride in an ambulance and I was only aware of Danielle, who was unresponsive as paramedics worked over her. There was nothing to do but watch and pray.

  At the hospital, I was directed to a waiting room, where I sat numbly in a hard plastic chair. Nearby, a young mother bit her lip while she clung to a sleeping baby and an elderly man stared blankly at a television fixed high on the wall.

  And I waited.

  As minutes ticked slowly by on a wall clock, I thought about Danielle and how precious life was—how fragile, too. She’d been on a dangerous course for a long time, only no one had noticed. She’d been what everyone expected: perfect daughter, top student, loyal girlfriend. Yet it wasn’t enough, and somewhere along the way she lost herself. She’d kept her secrets so well, it would have been too late to save her—if it hadn’t been for my visions.

  She just has to make it, I thought, still staring at the clock. I crossed my right leg, then my left. I picked up a magazine, then set it aside without looking at it. I shifted to another chair with a better view of the door. What was happening?

  The door burst open, and Danielle’s father entered with a slender, black-haired woman who was obviously Danielle’s mother. The woman sank on the couch beside the couple with the baby, while Danielle’s father spotted me and came over.

  “Thank you,” Mr. Crother told me.

  “For what?”

  “They said you found her. She’s holding on but the doctor said if she’d lost any more blood … ” His voice cracked. “That we would—would have lost our daughter.”

  “I’m glad she’s okay.”

  “You saved her life,” he said. “I—I just felt so useless when I read that letter. Didn’t have any idea where to look. But you found her. How did you know?”

  “My friends helped. But we didn’t really know either—it was a lucky guess.”

  “Or an answer to our prayers,” he said, giving my hand a tight squeeze.

  I knew in that moment that I could tell him the truth about how I really found Danielle. He wouldn’t call me a freak or crazy. He
would believe me.

  A burden inside me lifted on wings and fluttered away. Foretelling bad things didn’t mean I’d caused them to happen—and this time I’d saved a life.

  After a while, Dominic and Thorn picked me up from the hospital. We dropped Thorn off at a single-story home, where toys littered a small patch of front lawn, and then Dominic and I headed back home. When he stepped out of his truck, there was a screech overhead and his falcon fluttered down to greet him.

  “Dagger wants a snack,” Dominic said with a tired smile. “I’ll be in the barn if you need anything.”

  I looked into his eyes, sending him a silent message of thanks. He nodded, which seemed enough. For now.

  Feeling strangely happy, I hurried to the house. Nona must have been watching for me because she rushed out, almost knocking Lillybelle off her favorite perch on a porch rail. “Oh, honey! How is your friend?”

  “Alive.”

  “Thank the heavens.”

  “She’s going to make it, but it’ll take time before she’s well enough to go back to school,” I added.

  “Poor child. Her troubles must run deep.”

  “No troubles are worth killing yourself over. Why would she do something that dumb? Just because her boyfriend dumped her?”

  “I’m sure it’s more than that. I’ve seen clients desperate to fill emptiness by clinging to someone else.”

  “Like Evan,” I said with a frown.

  “Your friend needs to love herself. With supportive people around, she’ll be all right.”

  “I hope so.”

  Nona gave me another hug. “I’m proud of you, honey.”

  “I didn’t do anything special.”

  “You followed your heart and used your gift to save that girl.”

  “My gift?” I did a double take. “But you said I’d outgrown it.”

  “For a while, I thought you had. You put on a good show and nearly convinced me. You’re the one who denied your ability.”

  “Then you believe me?”

  “I never really stopped, but I knew it was your choice whether you followed your talents. And I’m delighted you made the right decision.”

  “Are you sure it’s the right one?” I asked. “I hear voices, see things that other people can’t, and get warnings that scare me. What kind of gift is that?”