Psyched Page 12

  Monica peeked out the window and watched Jed toss the flowers away. Charlee kicked the garbage can in frustration as she stomped into the kitchen and rested her hands on the edge of the sink, taking a few deep breaths.

  “Momma, what’s going on?”

  Without replying, Charlee walked back in, lips tightly pursed, and kicked the coffee table as well. It tipped over and the board slammed to the floor. Monica burst into tears and ran to her room.

  Vance and Aisi stood in the living room, glancing awkwardly around. Even though they only saw shadows of a past that didn’t belong to either of them, Aisi still felt like an intruder. She tipped her head thoughtfully. “You know, I never thought I would say this, but I think I get Monica now.”

  Vance looked out the window at the stadium lights across the street, which turned off abruptly. The only light in the room now came from a lamp with a missing shade, resting on top of a couple of milk crates stacked up in the corner of the little room. The glare from the naked bulb burned Aisi’s eyes.

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Her mom is as crazy as mine,” she replied. “Just in another way.” She suddenly pitied the girl and her mother, who had no idea where the old man went. Unlike Aisi, they had no way of seeing the possibilities beyond the grave. “They lost someone they love without a trace.”

  Vance jumped back as the light changed and sunlight suddenly streamed through the window. An older Monica walked through the door and tossed a glittery pink backpack onto the floor by the couch. “Mom?” she called. She opened the fridge and grabbed herself a can of generic brand soda. She popped the top, guzzled, and then looked around curiously. “Mom? Where are you?”

  She walked down the hall and peered into the empty rooms. She went back to the kitchen and found a note she missed before, taped to the fridge. Her mother had written loopy cursive in green crayon, “It worked this time. I found him! Be back soon with your granddaddy!”

  Monica rolled her eyes and picked up the phone from its charger on the counter. After dialing, she said impatiently, “Jed, did you see the note she left? She’s gone again.”

  The filthy apartment slowly faded around them, and Aisi and Vance found themselves standing in another grimy room in a different, smaller apartment. No curtains covered the smudged window, which faced a parking lot flooded with light from street lamps as the sun’s dying rays burned the twilit sky a deep purple.

  A few bean bags lay haphazardly across the floor under a flat screen TV propped up on saw horses against one wall. Piles of dirty dishes cascaded out of the sink, onto the counters and over onto the floor next to the bean bags. The Monica Aisi knew walked in with a sigh, looking in disgust at the dirty room. She heard a flush and the rush of running water, so she peeked down the hall.

  “You home, Jed?” she called. She stepped back in surprise when a strange woman emerged from the bathroom instead. The woman looked startled to see Monica, too, but she quickly recovered and put on a bright face.

  “Hello there! You must be Monica. Jed’s told me all about you, sweetie.”

  Monica looked at the woman with disdain as the smiling stranger reached over to shake hands. Monica glowered, refusing to touch the intruder. The woman pulled her thin hand away with uncertainty and wiped it nervously on her threadbare black leggings.

  “I know you,” Monica said accusingly. “You work at the snack bar in the gas station.” She didn’t bother trying to hide the contempt in her voice. “Rita. You make those nasty burritos that always give Jed gas.”

  The woman blushed. “Yes,” she stammered, “I’m Rita. You have such a good memory. I see you and your friends in there all the time. I hope—”

  “Why are you here?” Monica asked sharply.

  At that moment, Jed opened the door. “Rita,” he called, “I got you the fancy deli potato salad that you like. Monica will be home soon, so…” His voice trailed off as he saw them together in the living room. He stood lamely, his arms full of plastic grocery bags. “So…I, uh, see you two met.”

  The girl’s glare was so icy the room felt like a sudden chill had blown in. “Rita, huh? Is this your new woman? You are so worthless.” She shook her head in anger. “You’re sick, you know? You’re still married to my mom! You lying, cheating piece of—”

  He raised his voice, despair lacing his tone. “She’s gone, Monica! I can’t bring her back. We did all we could, but she vanished. Just like your grandpa.”

  “My mom never gave up on him,” she spat. “She’s only gone, like, two years and you’re done?”

  “The police say there’s not a trace! If I thought there was any hope I could bring her back, I would do it. I loved her, but she’s gone. And don’t forget,” he added bitterly, “she’s the one who walked away from us.”

  Monica glanced over at the unfortunate Rita, who looked like she might cry. The thin woman twisted the ends of her flannel shirt nervously between her fingers and backed slowly toward the door. “Don’t bother leaving,” she snapped at Rita. “If he really wants to give up on my mom—even though she’d never give up on him—for some burrito-making freak with nappy leggings and a bad perm, whatever. I’m out of here.”

  Rita touched long, frizzy brown waves tied back in a low ponytail, looking horrified. Monica bent down to pick up the bag she dropped just moments before and ran out, slamming the door behind her.

  Aisi moved to follow Monica. As she left, she heard Jed trying to soothe a hysterical Rita, who sobbed something incoherent about Monica hating her and him not liking her burritos. “It’s ok. I can find her and we can work it out, Rita. It just surprised her, that’s all. I know where to find her. She’s into a boy named Kalen these days, and he lives just down the street.”

  Aisi jerked her head to indicate Vance should follow, and he rushed out with her. They ran down the stairs of the building, trying to find which way she’d gone. Spotting her, they sprinted across the parking lot and turned past the last building in the complex to catch up. They lurched to a quick stop when they saw her standing in the middle of the street.

  Washed in the bright light of the street lamp, Monica stood motionless. She dropped her bag on the road, staring at something down the street. Aisi, a well-trained runner, stopped lightly next to her and tried to see what Monica saw. Vance came lumbering up behind her, panting for air and clutching his side. He huffed and puffed for a moment, and then straightened up with a jerky stretch.

  “What is it?” he gasped.

  Aisi tried not to smile at him. “You need more exercise, that’s what.”

  “Why did she stop?”

  Aisi looked around. “Not sure. She must see something we don’t.”

  A familiar laugh rang out from down the street. She spun and saw Kalen sitting on the front porch of a small but cheerful clapboard house across the street from the apartment complex…with Zinnia cuddled up next to him. Aisi looked back and forth between Monica and the two sitting side by side on the steps, holding hands, shoulders touching, and suddenly she understood why Monica was particularly fierce in her hatred of Zinnia for the last few weeks. Hesitantly, Aisi stepped around to see the face of the girl she just caught. She thought she’d see an expression of anger or disgust. She never expected to see a look of such devastation on that face. Monica was broken in heart and spirit.

  Chapter 16 Calm Before the Storm

  Aisi’s eyes fluttered open. Monica and the street vanished, and she found herself back in the foyer of the little church. Rain still hammered the tin roof and streaked down the windows. Vance stood beside her, his hand crushing hers in a white knuckle grip. His eyes were still clamped shut, his forehead knotted in concentration. She tried to pull her hand free but he refused to let go.

  “Vance? Can I have my hand back?” she asked gently, wondering if he could hear. At her words he clutched even harder, squeezing her fingers so hard that a small birthstone ring, a gift from her dad when she turned sixteen, dug into her flesh. “Ouch! Dude, let it go!” />
  Vance couldn’t seem to hear her. The more she tried to free her hand, the more agitated he became. Aisi glanced desperately at Father J, who reached over and slapped Vance soundly across the cheek a little too eagerly.

  Vance’s eyes jerked open. He glanced around, looking wildly confused. “Is this another vision, or are we back?”

  “We’re back,” Aisi informed him. She held up her hand, still locked in his, so he could see her swelling, bluish fingers. “Feel free to let the blood back into my hand. You know, anytime.”

  He let her hand go sheepishly. “Sorry…but that was….yeah. That was crazy intense!”

  Aisi turned away. She hoped he couldn’t tell from her expression that she really didn’t mind him holding her hand as long as he didn’t crush it, but she cut the thought short. She didn’t have time to be distracted by cute boys. She needed to put all the pieces together in this messed up puzzle.

  “Father J, I get some of it, but not all of it. What does it mean?”

  “I think you know, or you will after you think it over,” he said quietly.

  Aisi rolled her eyes. “What’s up with all the cryptic stuff tonight? First my dad pulls it on me, and now you.”

  Father J smiled. “You have everything you need know. You can go.”

  Vance raised his eyebrows, surprised. “That’s it? No help? Just a ‘don’t let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya?’ Nice. Remind me not to visit you in confessional, man.”

  Father J surprised her by laughing out loud. “Vance, you have the knowledge. Aisi has the ability. You don’t need me. Why should I wipe your nose for you if you already have the tissue?”

  “Again, cryptic,” Aisi muttered. She shoved her hands in her back pockets and bit her lower lip in frustration. “So not helping!”

  Father J put a hand on each of their shoulders, guiding the two toward the door. “Talk it out, and trust each other. And remember, don’t always believe what your eyes show you.” He opened the squeaky screen door and ushered them onto the rickety wooden steps. When they got outside, he looked up. Droplets of rain illuminated by an orange glow from the frosted glass of his porch light fell on his upturned face. His eyes closed for a moment, and he smiled as he looked back at them. “The rain is letting up,” he said. “In folklore and legend, this is a good omen.”

  Aisi became more confused every time he opened his mouth. Before she learned about Monica, Father J seemed so helpful. Now she felt like she crawled to the top of a mountain to seek advice from a wise old hermit, and the wise old hermit only spoke Babylonian. “What does that even mean?” she pleaded.

  “After the rain comes the rainbow,” he said simply. The screen door slammed as he stepped back in, and the door squeaked shut behind him.

  Vance stood uneasily. He sighed as he fished around in his jeans pocket for the keys to his truck. “Well, what now? Should I…uh…should I take you home?”

  Aisi buried her head in her hands. “I don’t know.” Part of her was convinced this trip had been a total waste of time, even while her head throbbed with everything she had learned. She understood why she needed to know about her father. At least, she thought she did. But Monica…where did she fit in? Aisi’s dad accidentally killed her grandfather, but how could that be connected? It was an unrelated accident, wasn’t it?

  She shook her head and ran her fingers over the top of her head, tugging gently at the rubber band which held her ponytail high on her head. She yanked it out and dragged her disobedient curls behind her head, twisting them back into a low ponytail.

  “Unrelated question,” Vance said, following her as she stepped off the porch and toward his little truck. “Why do girls redo their ponytails so much?”

  Aisi shot him a withering look. “Really? Everything you’ve seen tonight and the most pressing question in your guy brain is about my ponytail?”

  He looked embarrassed as he ran to her side of the car and opened her door. As he climbed into the driver’s side and the truck roared to life with a quick turn of his key, he shrugged. “I don’t hang out with girls that often. I have two brothers so I don’t get it, that’s all.”

  Aisi leaned her head against the cold window as he backed up and turned onto the wet, narrow highway. It was pitch black beyond the headlights, the dark shadows of the forest lining the road under a midnight sky. “Headaches,” she replied.

  “Really?”

  She almost laughed. “Yes. Really. When your hair is long and thick, it gets heavy. All day ponytails mean all day headaches, something a guy who cuts his hair all the time would never know. Anything else you want to know about female hair, Captain Random? You know, while we’re discussing important things.”

  Vance wisely said nothing.

  It was quiet in the truck as he drove. Aisi’s mind wandered like the dark, wet road back to town, still trying to figure out why Monica’s accidental involvement in her family’s past mattered. They found themselves back at the diner, now dark and deserted, but the lights in the apartment above it where her father lived glowed brightly. Through drawn shades she could see her dad and Leo rough housing. Leo’s small form flew high in the air as his father tossed him, and then caught the boy and hugged him before chasing him away from the window. She couldn’t help but smile.

  “The Watchers,” Vance said, suddenly excited. “Your dad shouldn’t be here because the Watchers were banished.”

  Aisi turned to him, confused. “Why not? Wait…how many were there? Were there more than my dad and his brothers…or whatever they were?”

  “They were sent to guard the people of the earth, sort of like guardian angels, but they became corrupt, right?” Vance looked ready to happy dance. “Every continent had legions of them, but they all became corrupt.”

  “All of them?”

  “Pretty much,” he confirmed. “They had a divine calling and abused that power. They went around terrorizing all the humans and destroying lives.”

  Aisi closed her eyes and nodded grimly as the first vision she saw that night tried to force its way back into the front of her mind. She’d seen that much for herself. “I know,” she answered quietly.

  “The stories in the Apocrypha say the flood which killed most of mankind was sent to wipe them off the earth. Their offspring were exterminated and humans could live on, but the Watchers were banished. They were sent to dwell in the valleys and the dark places. They live on underground, angry, finding ways to escape, hoping to rebuild their reign of terror with their armies’ nephilim. This Malus guy is strong enough now to rebuild his army, right?”

  Aisi ignored his question. “Is that the word for what I am, then? Nephilim?”

  Vance stammered, “I…don’t know. They were supposed to be giants…”

  “Like Goliath?”

  Vance looked impressed. “You know your history.”

  “You forget I have a mother whose hobby is religion hopping.”

  He laughed. “That’s right. How could I forget? Religion hopping and con artist fortune telling. I bet your family parties are nuts.”

  Aisi snorted. “Family parties? Please. Our family parties are Leo and me helping my dad with the dishes after the diner closes. Sometimes my mom whips out the tarot cards but Leo just uses them to play Old Maid and she gets a little miffed.” She laughed and shook her head.

  They still sat in the truck as the air grew heavy with silence and the weight of what seemed like unanswerable questions. Aisi couldn’t even begin to wrap her head around them. She looked up at the apartment window again, thinking of her dad and brother. The lights flipped off, which meant Leo had just been tucked in and Big Billy was whispering to him in the dark, whispering stories of thatch-roofed villages and wild animals roaming the red dusted savannahs of his home.

  “So…Watchers. Nephilim,” she said, turning to Vance. “Does that mean I am going to hit a growth spurt that will make me be about eight feet tall? My cross country coach might like the long legs that come with that kind of height.
”

  Vance took her hand in his. The warmth she felt as it closed over hers sent a shiver up her spine, but she tried not to shudder. “Aisi, I don’t think you being descended from a Watcher is really the problem here. All I know is you took Father J’s hand, zoned out for like a split second, and then puked everywhere. What did you see?”

  Aisi shook her head. She didn’t want to relive it. “A split second? Is that all? It felt like hours.”

  His raised eyebrows indicated she wasn’t going to get out of the question. Her palm suddenly felt clammy and sweaty in his warm hand, and she squeezed his hard to calm the shaking that threatened to overwhelm her. “I saw some of the terrible things my father did after he fell,” she murmured. “All the terrible things you hear about African history? He and his brothers were there. They encouraged war lords to kill and set fire to innocent people. They enslaved people for kicks. They cut off the hands of people who tried to vote.” Vomit raced up her throat as her anger grew with each word, but she swallowed the urge and continued breathlessly. “I mean, what kind of sick freak likes seeing that, let alone doing it? Who enjoys being responsible for carnage like that?”

  “Aisi,” Vance said quietly, “let’s get out and walk, calm down, figure things out. If you get mad, they only get stronger.”

  She sighed, knowing he was right. Malus fed on every angry word and unhappy emotion. She didn’t want to make it easy for him. This demon would have to build his army without any help from her.

  Chapter 16 Don’t Trust Your Eyes

  Vance jumped out of the truck and ran around to open her door again. Aisi’s heart fluttered a little as he did. She hadn’t even considered that guys like this still existed. She assumed all guys were boneheads like Kalen.

  As they walked down the street under the glow of the street lights, the rain let up but a chilly gray mist took its place. Their footsteps echoed on the cold, dark path, a swirling haze of light fog dancing in the light above them. Aisi’s flip flops made a slight squishing noise as they stepped between circles of light and murky shadow on Main Street. She tried not to slip on wet layers of dead leaves and slushy gravel now exposed after the winter thaw.