Something Wicked
The Wicked Trilogy
By: Vanessa Gomez Serrano
Copyright 2011 Vanessa Serrano
Smashwords Edition
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“By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.” Macbeth Act 4, scene 1, 44–49
Chapter 1
I was asleep, lost in peaceful nothingness, as the thought clawed its way up and out of my brain and forced my eyes open.
Something’s coming.
I frowned up at my unlit ceiling and struggled to wake up to understand what was so important it couldn’t wait until morning.
Something’s coming.
The message echoed in my mind, annoyingly and relentlessly tapping at my brain.
A heavy fog clouded my eyesight. Before I could even attempt to fight my way out, the vision dragged me under and engulfed me in darkness.
I was running and I was scared.
Lost in the blackness, I had no clue why I was there or where I was going. But at the moment none of that really mattered because everything in my body was yelling at me: Do not stop.
I almost answered back. What do you think I am, stupid? But that's what I had to be for running around in the dark alone.
My heart raced, thumping a powerful and endless pattern of beats against my chest. I wanted to scream. No, actually, I needed to scream, to call someone, anyone to come help me. But I couldn’t. Something was coming for me.
I lunged forward, hoping to find my way to safety, but every step I took began to grow heavier. The cool breeze that blew against my face and whipped my long hair around slowed. In front of me, the trees stretched up thirty feet into the air and wrapped me around like a coffin. Above me, the full moon shinned brightly, like a beacon of light, strangely offering me only a whisper of hope.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood tingling and I instantly felt like I was in the middle of some really bad slasher movie, the ones I loved to watch and yell at the girl who was wandering around in the dark like an idiot. How nice that I was now that idiot girl.
I waited to hear something, anything coming closer, but even the usual sounds of night were absent. There were no crickets singing to each other or rustling leaves blowing in the night breeze; it was just me and the sound of my breath quickly being sucked in and out.
This was bad.
I cursed at myself silently for stopping, but I had no other choice. My legs refused to move. I twitched my head from left to right, like a frightened rabbit waiting for the coming attack when my instincts made me turn to look behind me. Expecting to be greeted solely by darkness I was shocked to discover that I wasn’t alone. I was holding someone’s hand: a girl, who was following so quietly behind me, I was amazed at the impossibility of it. The dirty, oversized man’s white t-shirt she wore fell just above her knees. The dark brownish stains scattered around the shirt had me worried about what this strange girl had gone through. Her tangled and dirty, lengthy auburn hair fell heavily over her face.
I wanted to ask her name, but the words couldn’t come. My mouth was clamped in a hard line. I could not utter a sound. Someone was coming.
Nerves rippled through my body like tiny shockwaves beneath my skin.
Get the hell out of here! – every fiber of my being screamed. But of course, like an idiot, curiosity got the better of me. I had to know who she was.
The girl’s rail-thin body swayed dangerously from side to side as if any breeze that touched her bruised skin would tip her over. I kept her hand locked in mine afraid she would disappear and leave me all alone. I lifted my other hand and inched closer. I reached for the curtain of hair desperate to figure out who she was when a voice drifted through the air. My hand froze midair.
“It is inevitable. You are already mine.”
There was nothing especially loud or unique about the man’s voice except it was tinged with a light Spanish accent. No menacing laugh followed it, but the cold threat held within his words was clear. If this was a horror movie, there was no doubt he was the evil bad guy.
I was confused by the vague message, wondering who it was intended for, me or the girl. Yanking me back to the present, she drew a sharp breath and looked up, startling me, causing me to stumble backwards almost tripping over my own clumsy feet. I managed to see her terrified eyes, glowing a light, golden brown just before her cry ripped through my senses and scared the crap out of me, as if I wasn’t terrified enough.
“RUN!”
Every muscle in my body tensed, as I turned and prepared to get the hell out of there when I heard the loud BOOM thunder around us. My vision blurred as the pain slashed through me.
Son of a ….
My brain struggled to focus as I sat up in bed, my breath coming hard and fast like it had in my vision. My hands clutched my stomach where I could still feel the searing hot pain of metal tearing through it.
I was shot!
Chapter 2
I almost expected to see bright red blood dripping from fingers, as I moved my trembling hands up my body to massage my temples where my brain felt like it had been abused in a ruthless game of dodge ball.
I turned to look at my alarm clock ticking away on my night stand and winced at the slight movement. I had to fight the urge to pick it up and throw it across the room. Waking up early had to be one of the worst tortures in the world. Why couldn’t the damn premonition come at a more decent hour, when I was fully conscious and somewhat prepared for it, instead of at six in the morning?
Not that you could ever really be prepared for a vision where you have just gotten brutally gunned down by a creepy floating voice.
I closed my eyes as I lie back on my pillow and let out a shaky, irritated breath. The bitterness rose up quickly, which sadly felt way too familiar and comfortable. I wanted to fight against my body that shook with fear and adrenaline, but more than anything, I just wanted to be normal for once in my life, to go back to sleep after having a crazy, standard, run of the mill nightmare, and dream of me and Brad Pitt circa Legends of the Fall getting cozy under a bearskin rug, and forget all about it. But I couldn’t.
It wasn’t a normal dream, and I wasn’t a normal girl. I was a freak of nature, and the premonition would come true just like they always did. Ignoring it was impossible.
Something was coming for me and whatever it was felt like a magnitude 10.0 on my drama Richter scale.
I was going to die.
Crap on a stick! I shot up in bed as the realization began to sink in, and the slow, sour burn of vomit made its way up my throat. If I didn’t get to a bathroom soon it was going to force its way out all over me.
I untangled myself from my hot sheets, and dragged myself out of bed. The relief was instant as I left my boiling room, already feeling the effects of the vicious summer heat and made my way down the dim hallway heading to the nearest bathroom. The nauseous feeling was already beginning to subside, thank God, but I was in need of some extra strength aspirin and even in the face of death, I really had to pee.
I walked into my mom’s quiet room, ignoring the soft blue faded flowery wallpaper and the old, comfortable furniture that always brought back way too many memories of a our once upon a time happy family. There was no way hiding under my parent’s covers now was going to make any part of me okay, the extra strength aspirin, however, stored in mom bathroom cabinets would definitely go a long way in stopping the unbearable pounding in my head.
I had to force my mouth shut as a string of very un-lady like curse words fired through my brain as I found my mom, still in the bathroom, wearing her perfectly ironed hospital scrubs, which she never seemed to take off lately. The aspirin I would kill for would have to wait, Mom would notice as usual, which would bring too many unwanted questions.
“Can’t a girl use the bathroom?” I complained, leaning my shoulder against the doorway. I crossed my arms against my chest.
Mom jumped slightly at the sound of my voice.
“Aye mija, you scared me. Buenos dias,” Mom said. She moved over to give me a kiss on the cheek, and her glance drawn down to the frown on my face.
“Relax, Veronica, I’m done.” Mom said, confusing my scowl for impatience. “You know waking up early doesn’t give you permission to be irritating. Why are you up so early anyway?”
I shrugged, afraid of what my voice might sound like.
She looked at me again carefully, as if hoping to see the secrets she knew I sometimes kept hidden from her. As much as I wanted to tell her, cry and make a mess of myself I knew she would never be able to handle it. She never could. I shoved the pain down with all the other unwanted feelings I kept bottled inside.
“Are you working at the shop today?” she asked, peering at me through the mirror.
I sighed. “Yeah, I have to be there at ten.”
She looked at me and hesitated. I knew it was coming.
“How’s your dad?”
Ugh! I don’t know why she bothers asking. If she wanted to know how he was everyday why get a divorce. Isn’t that the whole point?
I wasn’t in the mood to indulge her today, especially not right now. I shrugged again, which I knew would irritate her.
She stared at me, her eyes as delicate as a drill. “What’s wrong?”
Damn it! Sometimes I swear she was the one with the sixth sense. She can always tell when I have seen something bad, but there was no way I was telling her that.
“Nothing, Mom, I just have to go to the bathroom, is that okay with you? Don’t be so paranoid.”
Now she looked more pissed than concerned, which was fine with me since I knew she wouldn’t question me anymore. A dose of typical teenage bad attitude always did the trick. It was a good thing I was so great at giving it.
“I’ll be at the hospital until after seven tonight. Make sure Erica and Ian eat dinner, please. Call me if you need me. Love you.” She kissed me again quickly and was gone, running away from her strange and unusual, cranky daughter.
I’d run away from myself too if I could.
Finally alone, I gulped down three extra strength aspirin with lukewarm faucet water. As I wiped away the moisture from my mouth with the back of my hand, I stared into the mirror. Now there was something to really run screaming from.
I looked like the mysterious gunk found at the bottom of a garbage can. Which was perfect, since that was exactly how I felt. My face was pale and thin; thanks to the low fat diet of depression I had starved myself with all summer. The dark circles under my dull brown eyes were ridiculous, and my frizzy long brown hair hung like dead seaweed. I would have been perfect as the crazed killer in a Rob Zombie movie.
The hard front I had put up for my mom began to crumble. I can’t handle this. Not now. Not when I had just decided to attempt to get my life back in order.
Last year had been bad, really bad; the kind of year where only the roaches should have survived. My solution in dealing with it? Sleep through the entire summer and attempt to ignore the disaster my life had dissolved into. Obviously that brilliant plan hadn’t work. The past stalked me everywhere I went. And of course I tortured myself by picking at my wounds so that I never fully healed.
I was broken. I should have done something, changed things somehow.
I had made so many mistakes.
My knees buckled beneath me as I stumbled over to sit on the toilet, and let my face fall into my hands.
My life was a mess and now to top it off it appears as though I’m going to be murdered.
Perfect.
My hands ran up to my head and turned into fists. I pulled at my hair hard in frustration. Emotions boiled up, I yanked at the towel hanging on the wall, buried my face into it, and let the cries come. I sobbed, emptying out months of unhappiness and frustration until my throat burned.
Why? The divorce, Abuelita dying, Frankie cheating, what was the point of suffering through it all if I was just going to end up dead?
Well, at least I would be with Abuelita again.
My cries sputtered to a stop as I repeated the last words slowly in my head, and felt as if a bucket of cold water had been poured down my back.
Was that it? Had I officially given up on living?
No.
The answer surprised me more than it should have, which was definitely a cause for concern, but it was still a solid no.
I was not ready to die.
Not today. Not now.
The rage filled me; the heat traveled to every part of my body, and melted the ice that had been keeping me numb. Suddenly, I felt more alive than I had in months. I stood up, with a sudden sense a purpose and a little manic like I have just drank a case of Red Bulls. Something was coming for me. I could feel the weight of it pressing down on every inch of my body. I had been given a warning. That meant all I had to do was figure out how to stop it.
I staggered back to the sink. My hands quivered as I turned the faucet on and splashed cold water all over my face. I closed my eyes and sifted through the premonition that was usually twenty-five percent dream seventy-five percent vision, searching for the important details, and forced my mind to move away from the past and look into the future.
The girl and the voice. This was all about them. She needed my help. And we both needed to stay alive. But why?
The voice, so cold, terrified me. I didn’t have the first clue who it was, and nothing in the world would possess me to purposely seek out whoever this person was, but I knew I would have to.
As I dried my face, the full moon from my vision that floated above the trees offering me hope, unexpectedly drifted to the surface of my thoughts. Last night, shinning in through my window, there had been an almost perfect half moon.
The realization had me stumbling back towards the toilet. I had about fourteen days to stop my own murder.
Chapter 3
Still slightly dazed from my breakdown, I walked into our bright yellow kitchen and found Ian sitting at the kitchen table, his face buried in a massive bowl of cereal. Great... this was not going to be good. If there was anyone I couldn’t hide from it was my little brother.
Carefully, I cleared my head of any thoughts that lingered, and tried to keep my mind as empty as possible. Every thought was dangerous with Ian around.
“Why aren’t you asleep?” I asked, avoiding his stare, heading straight for the coffee, the one vice I hadn’t forced myself to give up.
“Cause I’m a normal, healthy teenager that has a life outside of this house, unlike some people,” he said, shoveling the next spoonful of cereal into his mouth, drops of milk missing their mark dripped down its sides. “You okay?”
“God, Ian, can’t you eat like a human? Why don’t you have a little bit more cereal with your milk?”
“I’m a growing boy, this is the way we do things and you didn’t answer me. Are you okay?”
“Yes, Ian. I’m fine.”
“Didn’t sound like it to me.”
“Well if you already knew the answer why the hell did you bother asking?” I shot back.
“You know what they say about assuming,” he said, unaffected by my bitchiness.
“It’s too late; I already think you’re an ass.” I said.
“Ha, ha. You know you look like crap right. It’s kinda getting embarrassing. Aren’t you tired of this depression thing you’ve got going on yet?”
Ouch, that hurt.
“If that was meant to be inspirational, thanks, I feel on top of the world now.”
“Seriously, Vero.”
“Seriously, Ian. Do you think I like being this way? You should know better than anyone how I feel but … it’s hard.”
Especially, when you have creepy visions scaring the hell out of you.
“What did you see?” he said, putting down his spoon.
Damn it, I slipped.
It wasn’t what he said, but how he said it that made me turn around and force myself to smile.
“Down boy. It’s nothing, relax.” Puppy dogs and cute kittens, puppy dogs and cute kittens, puppy dogs and cute kittens …
“Really, dogs and cats? That hasn’t worked since elementary school,” Ian said.
“Well, if I wanted you to know every intimate detail of my life I would tell you. Stay out of my head,” I threatened.
“No problem. Tell me what you saw,” he said leaning back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest.
Out of stubbornness I stayed quiet and refused to answer.
“You know I’m going to find out one way or another. And I’d rather it not be the hard way. I still haven’t forgiven you for the infamous skate board incident in fourth grade. My leg still hurts every time it rains,” he said, his cereal all but forgotten.
I lived in a house full of freaks. It’s no wonder I’m all screwed up. My brother can hear people’s thoughts. I can never get over how crazy that is. I mean, having premonitions was pretty messed up, yet somehow I felt his “gift” was worse.
We’ve never really talked about what it was like for him growing up with his ability, but it must have been pretty hard. Can you imagine having to hear people’s crazy thoughts as a five year old? I’m surprised he didn’t go a little insane, or maybe he did and hides it well. Needless to say, he doesn’t trust too many people. How can you when you can hear people’s unfiltered feelings?
“It’s nothing, don’t worry,” I said.
“I felt something this morning. I woke up feeling ... scared. Why?” he asked frowning. All the playfulness had left his voice.
The fear I was holding down just below the surface hit me again like a Mac truck. It was a good thing I had my back to him or he would have seen it instantly. My hands trembled as I reached for the coffee. I almost told him. But something stopped me. I couldn’t tell him. Not yet. Not until I really needed to.
I took a second to compose myself and turned to face him again.
“Something’s coming,” I said, putting every ounce of force I had behind it. It wasn’t quite a lie, but definitely not the whole truth.
“What do you mean something’s coming? Should I be worried?” His broad shoulders tightened, like he was ready to spring into action. He was already concerned which was exactly what I was trying to avoid.
“I don’t know what it means, but there is nothing to worry about. It’s probably just something to do with school starting.”
I looked away to turn on the coffee maker and avoid his hard stare.
“Did you even try to make me believe that?” he said.
I turned around trying not to grin. He always had a way of making me do that. As far as little brothers go, I could do worse. “It’s nothing, really. I’m just a little stressed.”
It was a flat out lie, but I had made it my job to take care of my brother and sister ever since they were born. I wouldn’t start worrying them now.
At that moment my little sister Erica decided to grace us with her appearance.
“You stressed? No! I don’t believe it,” she said, shaking her head. She walked towards the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water. “Vero, you were born stressing.”
Her small frame was wrapped up in a soft pink fuzzy robe and her stick straight hair was pulled up in to the most gigantic rollers I had ever seen. She looked like Medusa come to life.
“Yeah and you were born a pain in the butt, what can we do?” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “Good lord, doesn’t anybody sleep in this family?”
“Some of us actually have lives that involve, getting up before noon, and socializing with real people,” Erica said rolling her eyes, in a way that only annoying little sisters could pull off. “Hey, so did you guys feel it this morning. Something’s coming!” she squealed. “I wonder what it will be? Maybe it means I’ll make the squad today. Or maybe it means Aaron Jacobs is finally gonna ask me out!”
There was a time when Erica use to worship the ground I walked on and followed me around like a little puppy, now she’s too busy chasing popularity and boys to care about much else.
My little sister had a big talent for being a drama queen, but she can also sense things. Her gifts weren’t as definite as me or Ian’s, but she would get feelings about things, like she always knew who it would be when the phone rang, or knew where to find something when it was lost. All three of us had felt something this morning. This was not a good sign, but it was just like my sister to turn it into one.
“Yeah, Erica the universe conspired to send all three of us a message this morning to help you on your quest to conquer high school, riiight,” I said.
“Wait a minute, who’s Aaron Jacobs?” Ian said, scowling.
“Whatever. I need to get ready,” Erica said, rolling her eyes one more time for good measure before she left the room.
“That’s kinda strange, don’t you think? The three of us getting the same message,” he said, watching me carefully, as if reading my mind. Oh that’s right, damn it, I hate when I forget to watch what I think.
“Truthfully, I don’t have time to worry about whatever’s coming. I’m just hoping to get myself back in working order now, maybe try to get a little normalcy in my life.”
“Normal? Haven’t you figured out yet that our lives will never be normal?” He said it with a smile like a joke, but I knew it bugged him as much as it bugged me. He was right.
“That so doesn’t help.”
“Sorry for being the voice of reason, once again,” he said.
“If you’re the voice of reason then we really are really in trouble.”
He chuckled as he picked up his spoon taking another huge bite. He had chosen to believe me and I felt slightly relieved.
“Are you going to be here for dinner after practice? I was thinking of picking up some pizza after work,” I said, attempting to change the subject.
“Yeah, that’s perfect. I invited some of the guys over to hang out. We’re celebrating the end of Hell Week. Can you bring extra?” he asked, finishing his cereal by slurping the milk from the bowl.
“Sure, no problem. Anything else you’d like, your highness?” I said, giving him a small bow.
“Yeah, how about cleaning my room, washing my clothes, taking out the trash….” This time his smile was genuine.
“Sure I’ll get right on that, hold your breath until I finish,” I said.
Ian laughed as he got up and dropped his bowl in the sink, then left for football practice.
As I waited for my coffee I tried not to think about how I had just basically lied to my brother. I hated to do it, but what would be the point in making him or anybody else panic. I was panicked enough for everyone. Someone was going to try to kill me, there was no doubt in my mind that what I saw was coming. The question was why.
As much as I wanted to sit in my dark room and obsess about my impending doom and how to save my own life, I had to get to work, Dad was waiting for me.
Chapter 4
Working in my dad’s office is an exercise in endurance. How long can someone endure mind-numbing monotony? His auto shop business was small, and usually busy with clients, but all the action happens out in the shop. When I was younger I would walk around the workshop in my little coveralls calling shots, daddy’s little helper. Now that I’m older and have grown breast, dad prefers I stay inside away from his workers, which means I’m usually stuck inside with Brenda, dad’s sweet old secretary that runs the office with military precision.
Working at the shop with Dad definitely wasn’t the funnest thing I could be doing, but during the summer it provided a reason to get out of bed, brush my teeth, and actually socialize with real people. Now it gave me a way to stop thinking about my disturbing vision, that and I liked helping him. It let me keep an eye on him.
The single life was not treating him so well. It had taken him awhile to remember how to take care of himself after the divorce. He was a wiz at taking a car apart and making it gorgeous again, but ask him to do some laundry and he fell apart.
“Hi Pa,” I said, as I walked into the office and headed over to him. I gave him a big hug and kiss, and then gave him my standard visual check. His salt and pepper hair was a little too poufy and in desperate need of a trim, but at least it was combed. His small, brown eyes appeared tired, but at least he was awake. He seemed better than usual today. Maybe we were both tired of being depressed.
“Hi, mija. Wow, you look nice. Thanks for coming,” he smiled.
I looked down at the outfit I had chosen, and was glad someone had noticed the mini-makeover I had given myself. After I had taken a shower and scrubbed off all of the funk I accumulated this summer, and even shaved my legs, I decided to actually put on something different than the first jeans I found on the floor and a tank top. I went with a short jean skirt, and a white peasant top my abuelita had sent me from Mexico that had bright flowers embroidered around the neck line, with simple leather sandals. There was something about facing death, that actually made you want to start living, and dressing better, that and I was going to have a house full of hot football players when I got home.
“You know I was a little bit worried about you this morning,” Dad said.
“Really? Why?” I asked, my stomach beginning to flutter nervously.
“I don’t know, I just woke up thinking about you, it felt like something was wrong. Everything’s okay right?” he said frowning.
“Of course, why wouldn’t it be?” I said it as lightly as I could manage, but my heart was instantly racing. That was four out of four.
“It was probably nothing,” he said shaking the thought away with a frown, “Anyway, thanks for coming. I hope you’re ready to work. We’re going to be busy,”
“No problem. You know I like helping out. Don’t forget we start school on Tuesday though, so I won’t be able to come any more until after school if you need me.” I said, putting my purse away in a desk drawer with shaking hands.
“Oh, that’s right. Summer went by fast. Are you all set for school? Did you get everything you needed?” he asked.
“Yeah, me and Mom went shopping last week.” Oops, I said the dreaded M word.
Dads face fell. “Well okay, mija. That’s good. Listen, you get to work, I have stuff to do out back. Call me when it’s lunch time and we’ll go somewhere together, I need to talk to you about something.”
Dad was right; the office was busy, which was a good thing. I had no chance to fall apart. After I said hi to Brenda and went to my little desk shoved in a corner I didn’t stop filing, making copies and answering phones. Pretty mind-numbing stuff, but by the time I knew it, it was lunch time.
Dad took me to our usual spot for burgers, onion rings, and cokes.
“What’s that pa?,” I asked, after we ordered and sat down in one of the old familiar booths. Dad was carrying a manila envelope and a small white box.
“Well, this is what I wanted to talk to you about mijita,” he said, placing the objects gingerly on the table, a grim look set on his face.
“What is papi? You’re freaking me out a little bit,” I said, which was true and not a good thing for my already delicate nerves.
“I’m sorry, mijita, I don’t mean to freak you out, it’s just that … well, your uncle Hector was going through some of abuelita’s things.” He stopped to see my reaction.
“Okay,” I said, feeling the slight sting at the mention of her, but encouraged him to go on.
“Well, he found some thing’s she left for you. I just got them yesterday,” he said.
“Abuelita, left me something? But how? How does he know they’re for me?” I asked, fighting really hard to stay calm.
It took a lot for me to talk about my abuela. She had been my most favorite person in the world. Just knowing that I’ll never hear her voice again, or spend time with her in her garden makes me want to start crying. She understood me like no one else could.
When I was little, I would spend hours during my summer vacations with my Abuelita in Mexico. I loved every second of it. My Abuelita was a curandera, a healer. She would mix up homemade remedies for all sorts of crazy things, from sore throats to broken hearts. Even though I didn’t really believe in all that stuff, I enjoyed spending time with her, watching her work, learning. I could talk to her about anything. But when I really needed her she wasn’t there anymore.
“She left you a note,” he slid the packages over to me as if they were a bomb about to explode, or maybe he was thinking I was the one about to blow.
I lifted my trembling hands to the small white box that lay on top of the manila envelope. There was thin twine that wrapped around the box tied in a bow. A small note had been tucked under the string. Para Veronica was written in my abuelita’s neat and careful handwriting.
I looked up at dad, not sure of what to do or say, dangerously on the verge of making a mess of myself in public.
Delicately, I pulled the strings on the box and picked up the small note and opened it.
Estare contigo siempre.
She would always be with me. That was all it took for the tears to begin to well up.
Putting the note down on the table, I lifted the top of the small box. There nestled in a soft bed of dried lavender flowers was a thin simple silver chain with a beautiful silver pendant about the size of a nickel with the Virgin Mary etched on it. I recognized it right away. My abuelita had worn this necklace everyday for most of her life.
That’s when the water works really began. The tears fell slowly as I carefully picked it up out of the box. There was a spark of electricity that shot through me the moment I touched it. There was no pain, just a strange hum of energy that coursed through my entire body. I placed it in the palm of my hand, and felt it warm, almost hot as it sat on my skin.
Suddenly, I was in a small adobe kitchen, there was a fire burning illuminating the small space with a soft golden light. There was a woman standing in front of a little girl with dark, almost black braids framing her face, and a pair of familiar brown eyes. Somehow I could feel the love that permeated the room. The woman reached down into the pocket of her old worn apron and brought something out. The little girl smiled, her grin lit up her face. The woman placed the necklace around her neck. I couldn’t quite hear what they were saying, but as I was pulled out of the vision I managed to catch two words, para protección. For protection.
A small shiver traveled down my back as I was brought back to the table and my dad.
It was a vision of the past. It was strange how I knew that since that was the first one I had ever experienced. But it had felt so different. Visions of the future were delicate, fluid. As if one simple tap would dissolve it into nothingness. But this, this felt as steady and as strong as a redwood tree, its roots grounded in history.
I sucked in a quick breath and glanced up at my father who was watching me warily, and smiled.
“Great grandma gave this to abuelita,” I said.
He nodded. “It was a present for her eighth birthday. Mama used to say it was her lucky charm,” he grinned as if remembering the sound of her voice, like I did sometimes. He reached out and took my hand. “I’m glad she passed it on to you.”
Chapter 5
I fingered the new charm around my neck gently as I waited at the red light leaving work, wondering what abuelita’s gift meant. The words echoed in my head, for protection. I eyed the package dad had given me that contained the rest of Abuelita’s gift sitting in the back seat unopened, and wondered what it would contain, feeling a little afraid to find out. Had she known something? Did she foresee what would happen to me? So many questions swirled around in my brain.
Now that I was alone, without work to distract me, my thoughts traveled back to this morning’s vision. The universe had sent me a warning, was Abuelita as well?
I could still feel the lingering pain of the bullet wound at the center of my stomach. Every time I blinked I could see the mystery girl’s eyes staring at me in fear and I could hear that voice repeating over and over again.
It is inevitable. You are already mine.
Who was he talking to me or the girl? And what the hell was it supposed to mean?
I decided, in an effort to maintain my sanity, to pass by Zoe’s to see if she wanted to hang out before I went to get the pizza. That way I wouldn’t end up eating a whole pizza worrying by myself, crying my eyes out, and going to sleep before the sun went down.
“Hey, chica! Okay, wait, what’s going on? Why are you looking so cute? I thought you were working at your dad’s today?” Zoe said, as she opened the door dressed in some tight straight legged blue jeans and a soft pink loose and flowy tank with gold strappy sandals. Somehow she always managed to look like she just walked off the page of some teen magazine.
“Can’t a girl get a little dressed up? My summer job is officially over. I came by to see if you wanted to hang out at my house. It’s our last weekend of freedom,” I said.
“Wait, wait, wait. What happened to you? Why are you acting … happy?”
“If you want I can come back when I’m feeling like crap again, but you might miss all the excitement. Some of the football team is coming over with Ian. I thought we could eat some pizza and enjoy some boy candy for dessert.” The effort I put into sounding so cheerful was exhausting, but the look of sheer astonishment coming from my best friend was worth it.
“Let me get my bag!” she shrieked.
I chuckled lightly as she rushed away to say good-bye to her mom and grab her stuff. Zoe could never resist the opportunity to do some flirting. Apart from shopping it was her most favorite hobby.
Zoe and I have been friends forever. We met in Kindergarten when I congratulated her about being a big sister and asked her what they were going to name her baby brother. Her mom didn’t even know she was pregnant.
As we got older and we realized just what I could do, to her it was the coolest thing in the world. Her best friend could see the future. She made me feel special when most of the time I just felt like a weirdo.
Zoe had a way of making most people feel special. My great talent was pushing people away, but Zoe drew them in. She was catnip for humans. And not just because of her looks. I mean she was gorgeous. Her Puerto Rican side gave her a natural summer tan all year long. She had long straight almost black hair that fell to the middle of her back and dark brown almond shaped eyes, which all together gave her an exotic look. But despite all that, Zoe was incredibly nice.
“Okay, spill it. What’s up?” Zoe asked, as we finished getting the pizzas.
Zoe knew me better than anyone, so I knew better than to try to hide anything. She had her own built in radar. But just like Ian, I decided she didn’t need to know the whole truth, or maybe I wasn’t ready to admit the truth out loud.
“What do you mean?” I answered.
“Don’t act dumb, I know you saw something. It’s written all over your face. You’re not fooling me with this little make over you gave yourself, which by the way is a major improvement from the last time I saw you. You’re upset.”
For the second time today, I wanted to cry my eyes out all over someone’s shoulder. But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. It was as if I said the truth out, loud of what I really saw, it would solidify it, make it even more of a reality.
“Something’s coming,” I said, turning to look at her.
“That’s it? I hate it when the message is so short. That could mean anything,” she complained as she calmly searched the radio stations for something good to listen to. She was way too comfortable with these types of bizarre conversations
“That’s helpful,” I said.
“Well, does it feel like it’s a good something or bad something?”
“Probably bad.”
“You are so annoying. Maybe it will be something really great. Maybe you’ll meet someone new. Lord knows you need some lovin’ in your life,” she said.
“Yeah, right! Please, love is the last thing I need. Do I need to remind you that my boyfriend cheated on me in front of everyone at our Junior prom, and my parents just got divorced? I have very little tolerance for anything involving love.”
“No offense, sweetheart, but you’re ex-boyfriend was an idiot. Getting rid of Frankie was the best thing that could have happened to you and I thought we decided you were okay with the whole divorce thing,” she said, eyeing me like my own personal psychiatrist.
“Excuse me, for being traumatized. Frankie may have been an ass, but he was my boyfriend, who cheated on me with none other than Becky, that skank. And yes, I have finally accepted that the divorce was for the best, but really, they were married for twenty years. Twenty years that’s like thirty in today’s society, forty if you consider the fact that we live in Los Angeles.”
Zoe sat back shaking her head looking like she wanted to shake me a little. We’ve had this conversation way too many times.
“I mean, really, how do you stop loving someone after twenty years? What happened to love conquers all? I’m never falling in love. I’ll just live life happily with ten dog, cause cats creep me out, and cable,” I said, finishing my rant.
She clapped her hands in applause. “Wow, that was Academy Award winning.”
“Funny.”
“As the song says, ‘That’s what friends are for …’ ” she sang.
Zoe sighed, as I frowned. “Aye, Vero! I love you to pieces, but get over it already.”
“Oh okay, why didn’t I think of that,” I scowled.
“Yes, get over it! You couldn’t have stopped it, any of it. There was nothing you could have done. It is not your responsibility to take care of everybody. You need to let it go, and stop torturing yourself with it. Okay?” Zoe waited for me to give her a small nod of surrender, ande smiled at me confidently. “Now, tell me which of the hot football players will be at your house today.”
That’s what I loved about Zoe, she always managed to defuse me when I was about to explode. We chatted about absolute nonsense all the way to my house which was exactly what I needed.
As we drove up and pulled into my short driveway, my front yard looked better than a commercial for Abercrombie and Fitch: lots of half-dressed guys throwing a football around. It was a little piece of heaven on Earth. Almost half the football team was there. I hoped I had enough pizza.
Right away, I recognized most of the guys. I even knew some of them from our middle school days, like Jake. When we were younger I remember he used to be teased mercilessly because he was kind of skinny and small, sort of nerdy. Poor guy. Now he was almost six feet tall and looked like he was packing a lot of muscle under his shirt. I doubt he gets teased anymore. He turned to look my way as I got out of the car and gave me a small smile. Something about him made me feel sad. It was as if there was a shadow surrounding him making him look slightly gray. I gave him a short wave, and wondered if I had appeared the same way this summer.
“Just a few friends I see.” I told Ian as I walked past him heading into the house.
“Can I help it if I’m a popular guy?” Ian threw the ball across the yard with precision accuracy. Show off.
“Yeah right,” I said.
“Vero! How’s it going?” called a new voice. I turned to smile at Mark who ran over and gave me a tight side hug, despite me holding on to four extra-large pizzas.
Mark was like a Popsicle on a hot summer day. You just couldn’t resist him. Mark and Ian have been friends since middle school. He was a really sweet guy, who had also grown up to be one cute piece of eye candy, a fact he is much too aware of.
“Hey, back up on the physical contact,” Ian called from the grass.
“What!? I was just saying hi.” Mark beamed at me showing off his dimples.
Ian scowled at him. “It’s not what you said that’s the problem …” he muttered.
“Don’t get mad Ian, my beauty can’t be ignored.” I said, grinning as I kept walking to the house.
I looked for Zoe who was already busy chatting with some of the guys. So much for keeping me company.
I laughed again, an actual real laugh, and turned to walk inside the house feeling better than I had in a long time, which was completely ironic, considering what I was facing, and smacked right into a solid wall of manly flesh. Whoa, whoever it was, was tall; tall enough that I had to look up to see his face. That was my first mistake.
Wow, was the only thought that made its way into my dazzled mind.
I actually got so flustered I nearly dropped the pizza. I struggled for a quick recovery as he reached out to steady me holding on to my shoulders, the heat of his fingers warmed me even through my blouse. He was strong.
“Sorry about that. Are you okay? Here, let me help you with those.” His voice was deep and smooth.
I don’t know why, but I couldn’t seem to catch my breath, my head began to spin. As he went to grab the pizzas, I panicked.
“No! No, that’s okay I got it,” I said, a little too loudly, and avoided glancing at his face again.
I stepped back and pulled the pizzas just out of his grasp. I hugged them to my belly as if they were some sort of protective force field. Feeling dazed and confused, I rushed passed him, and escaped into my safe house.
Chapter 6
What the hell was that?
Thankfully the kitchen was empty. I desperately needed a minute to recover.
I had a tendency to get shy around people I didn’t know, but that was ridiculous. I took a couple of deep breaths, and replayed the scene in my head. He must think I’m totally insane. Oh Lord, did I yell at him?
A second later, Zoe came in along with some of the guys. I fumbled around in the kitchen grabbing paper plates, napkins, and drinks and setting them on the kitchen table. I kept my head down not wanting to see anyone’s face again. Okay, not just anyone, His face. Man, I’m pathetic.
Zoe came over with two slices of pizza on paper plates.
“Here take this girl before these animals eat it all,” she joked, but stopped after seeing me. “Are you okay? You’re looking a little funny.”
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” I mumbled. “Let’s sit in the family room.”
Zoe gave me a look that said she was not pleased with that suggestion and wanted to stay right where she was, in the middle of the boy bonanza, to do what she loved best, but like a good friend she backed me up as I walked away, despite her looking sadder than a baby who had lost her favorite toy.
I refused to turn around. I stared straight ahead at the TV, fingering my necklace. I could hear Ian and his friends talking loudly behind me, joking and playing around. Every now and then I would hear his voice joking right along. Zoe sat next to me half turned so she could keep an eye on the action.
“Damn, girl! Did you see the new guy? One word, caliente. He looks thick in all the right places,” she said, staring without any shame.
“Drool much. Stop staring!” I whispered, feeling way too protective.
“What? He’s adorable. You need to go over there and introduce yourself. I’m sure he could find a way to help you out of your permanent bitchiness,” she said, batting her eyes at me innocently.
I wanted to turn around and look at him again. I wanted to know if he was as breath-taking as I remember. But I didn’t. I was actually beginning to sweat from the effort.
“Don’t do it!” I said out loud, surprising Zoe and myself.
“Don’t do what?” Zoe’s eyed me suspiciously again. “You are seriously freaking me out, more than usual. Do you have to go to the bathroom or something?”
“Shut up!” I sputtered, feeling my cheeks get warm.
“What’s that?” Zoe asked.
“What’s what?” I said, glancing around nervously.
“That,” she said pointing at my necklace.
“Oh, my dad gave it to me today. It was my grandmother’s. She sort of saved it for me,” I said looking down at it.
When I glanced back up at Zoe her eyes told me she regretted asking, knowing exactly how I would feel talking about it.
“It’s beautiful,” was all she said.
Just then I heard the front door open and shut loudly. I finally turned my head, rubbing my stiff neck. Erica strutted in with I’m guessing a few of her new cheerleading friends.
Now usually the myth about all cheerleaders being good looking was false. I mean I’ve seen some pretty ugly cheerleaders, but unfortunately, this was not one of those moments. Three really good looking girls walked into the kitchen, wearing tight workout gear that accentuated all the right areas. Cheerleading poster girls. Not ones to disappoint, all the dogs in the room were now up at attention. Boys could be so predictable.
“Hi guys! Guess what? I made the team!” Erica said, too excited to wait for anyone to actually guess. “These are my friends from the squad.”
She introduced the girls as Patty, Martha, and Gabby, but to me they would forever be known as Skanks number one, two, and three. I looked at Erica amazed at how it was possible that we were sisters. There was not one ounce of shyness in her body. Besides our faces looking somewhat similar, we were absolutely nothing alike.
The Skanks walked in and made themselves comfortable. I recognized one of them from school. Patty Martinez or Skank number one, made her way over to my brother with an expression you only saw on the National Geographic Channel when a starved lion finds a Gazelle lounging in the tall grass.
“Hi Ian! I didn’t know you had a sister! Erica is the cutest!” Patty gushed, wrapping her hands around Ian’s arm.
Uh, hello, did I somehow not exist anymore? It’s not like we had P.E. together for like two years.
“Oh no, that bitch didn’t!” Zoe said quietly. I turned to see Zoe who was now watching Patty and Ian.
You know the saying if looks could kill, well Patty would now be slowly decomposing on the ground covered in maggots. This was interesting. I’d have to ask Zoe about this later, or maybe I didn’t want to know. That could get complicated.
“Actually,” Zoe said in her most sugary sweet voice standing up, “Ian has two sisters, right, Veronica.”
Good Lord! Was that the best she could come up with? I felt like pulling her back down to the couch and beg her to no longer defend my honor. I was in no condition to go head to head with some perky cheerleaders.
I turned and gave a weak smile, feeling like the lamest person alive. But now that I had turned around I took the opportunity to check out the rest of the kitchen and saw the two other cheer clones now spreading out and putting their claws into the other guys. One of them went over to Him and started chatting. He looked a little too pleased, which caused an awkward feeling deep in stomach that I really did not like.
I snapped my head back around and prepared to listen to every word.
“Hi, you’re new aren’t you, a senior right?”
She would know … Skank.
“Uh yeah, I just moved here from San Antonio. I’m Eddie.”
He sounded a little surprised that she would already know that about him. No wonder I had never seen him. He was new. Eddie. Eddie’s a nice name.
Wait, what was I doing? Spying on a cheer clone and some guy I didn’t even know. Like I needed something else to stress about? I had to get out of the room, fast.
Thankfully, Zoe walked back into the kitchen and began talking to Mark in her flirting voice and giggled loudly, causing a nice little distraction so I could slip out of the room unnoticed. I put my half eaten pizza on the coffee table and made my escape.
What was going on today?
Was the universe conspiring to drive my insane, before it killed me?
I walked out the front door feeling relieved that I was finally all alone and flopped down on one of the pretty chairs my mother had bought recently to decorate our front porch. I was surprised to discover that it was actually comfortable.
I let my head fall back and rest against the chair as the warm summer air wrapped around me. I looked out into the quiet street, feeling as if I had just finished running a marathon. It’s no wonder; I hadn’t had this much social interaction since school let out in June.
I sank down lower in the chair, stretching my bare legs out in front of me, crossing them at my ankles as I shut my eyes and took some deep breaths, to help myself get it together.
Outside in the fresh air I had to laugh. It was just too silly. I never get weird over guys. That wasn’t me. It was probably post traumatic stress from my vision this morning or my teenage hormones getting back at me for keeping them locked up all summer.
When I finally opened my eyes, I saw the sun beginning to set. The sky was a mix of beautiful shades of soft pinks, purples, and blues. I loved those kinds of sunsets, when the sky resembled an abstract watercolor painting right off a museum wall, where all the colors crash and run into each other yet still manage to look perfectly at peace. I longed for my camera.
When the door opened next to me I jumped.
“That’s a great sunset,” Eddie said, stepping out of the house to stand on the porch beside me.
I sat up, feeling my relaxed body stiffen.
“Uh, yeah … it’s … nice.”
Yup, that’s what I said. This day keeps getting better and better.
“Sorry about before, bumping into you like that. You’re Veronica right, Ian’s sister?” He kept his eyes on the sky when he spoke which for some reason bothered me.
“Um, yeah, Ian’s sister. I was distracted. Not paying attention.”
What was wrong with me? Do I want him to think I’m a jackass?
I turned to glance at him again and was surprised to find him looking back at me with a funny expression on his face, as if I had said something he didn’t understand. Maybe that was because I wasn’t making any sense. He turned away abruptly looking back out to the street.
I have to say, as I stared at him without shame, he really was really good looking. He had short black hair spiked up at the top. Strong features and nice full lips. His smooth skin was a delicious light caramel color and he was tall, probably somewhere just over six feet. Nice body, an athlete’s body, the perfect amount of muscle in all the right places. It was the kind of body you knew would feel hard pressed against you. He was even dressed cool, too. He had on a black shirt that had a white outline of an old school boom box across the front that fit not too big, not too small, straight leg blue jeans that hung low on his hips and black Chucks.
But it was his eyes, his warm honey colored eyes that had to be the best thing about him.
I have to say he was close to perfect.
Silence.
“That’s a great car. Ian’s a lucky guy. Chevy right?” Eddie turned to face me again and my stomach did a small flip flop against its will.
“It’s a 1967 Malibu and it’s mine actually,” I said, struggling not to stammer.
For my sixteenth birthday I begged my dad for a car. My dad took it as an opportunity to begin a project. He came home, grinning from ear to ear, with this puke green, beat-up Chevy Malibu. I almost cried. It was the ugliest, most crap of a car inside and out you could possibly imagine. It took almost a year for him to fix it up and get it looking presentable.