Connection, p.22
Connection, page 22
Brenden was intrigued. “What were you told?”
“That I led the cops to rescue some women from a madman who was a rapist and a murderer. That supposedly I had a connection to one of the captives.” She began to feel uncomfortable under Brenden’s intense scrutiny. His dark eyes studied every inch of her face, seemingly memorizing her features. He finally settled on her eyes.
“You’re so troubled,” he said at last, his voice a whisper. He sipped his tea. “You have a very strong, very powerful soul, Remmy. Your Sight is amazing. What is your connection?”
“My connection?”
“Yes. What draws you in to your target? For instance, with Fayola she seems to be attracted to immense disappointment, failures, that kind of thing. She can sense it and tap into it.”
Remmy leaned forward in her chair, her interest piqued as she was beginning to recognize that maybe she had found a kindred spirit. “What about you?”
“For me it’s a little different. My gift is reading the souls of those like us. I can read you, I can read Fayola. I can always spot someone with The Sight. I spotted you, didn’t I?”
Remmy nodded. Meeting a kindred spirit made her feel immeasurably better, yet Brenden’s knowledge of her was also truly disturbing. “Okay, so what’s in my soul now?”
“You’re lost, deeply troubled. Don’t block things out, Remmy. You were given a gift, allow that gift to work for you. Your mind is very much like a boarded up room right now, but there is also a sledgehammer leaning against the barricade, just waiting for you to use it.”
“I don’t know how to break through, and I’m scared to death of what I might find if I tried. What would I find on the other side?”
“Your Destiny,” he said, not batting an eye. “Don’t allow the emotional pain of others deter you.” Brenden smiled, a very knowing smile. “Trust me, Remmy. You really want to get to that other side.”
****
Julie ran her fingers across the smooth surface of a desk under one of the windows. She stopped, turning her back to the desk and looking out over the small apartment. Joan Watson stood in the open doorway, casually leaning against the doorframe.
“How long did she live here?” Julie asked, eyes grazing the bed—only a bare mattress and headboard.
“Not long. A couple of months. I’ve got all her things packed up in the basement.”
“Why did you keep them?”
Joan shrugged. “In case she ever decided to come back for them, I guess. Same reason I haven’t rented the place out.”
“But it’s February,” Julie said with a small smile.
Joan chuckled. “I know. I really liked the kid. She was a good egg.” Plus, I feel guilty as hell.
“She worked at your store, right?” At Joan’s nod, Julie sighed. “Tell me about her. What was she like?”
“Very sweet. A bit quirky, but now I understand a lot of that had to do with her...visions. Beautiful young woman. The most gorgeous eyes I’ve ever seen.” She smiled at her memories. “Very ballsy.” She chuckled, thinking of her first meeting with Remmy, when she applied for a job. She told Julie about it.
“Wait,” Julie said, holding up her hand as she tried to grasp onto something floating in her mind. “What day was that?” When Joan told her the date, Julie’s mind reeled back to that day: Skylar’s game. “What does Remmy look like?”
“Tall, dark hair, bright blue eyes, a bit thin.”
“Oh my God!” Julie’s eyes widened as her hand covered her mouth. She met Joan’s surprised look. “I gave her a ride into town that day. That was her.” She looked down at her hands; they were trembling. She thought back to that day, to the short drive into town and how odd she had thought her passenger. Remmy had seemed to disappear for a few moments, returning to her surroundings with a look of terror in her eyes as she looked at Julie. Be careful, okay? Those words echoed in Julie’s mind. “She knew,” she whispered. “She knew even then.”
“She put so much effort into trying to find you, Julie. I remember the first time she had a vision in front of me. My husband and I thought she was having a seizure or something. Scared the hell out of me.” Each of them was lost in her own thoughts for a moment before Joan spoke again. “You know, once Remmy was in the hospital, she didn’t remember any of this.” She gestured around the room and then at the two of them. “She doesn’t remember you, or Sergio Venti, none of it. I kind of wonder if it was her mind’s way of saving her sanity while her body healed.”
“She saved my life, didn’t she?” Julie said softly. She had heard reports that Remmy had taken the bullet meant for her, but she couldn’t recall the exact events all that well. The shock and excitement from that day had caused one big blur.
“That she did. Took a bullet in the back. Lost her spleen.”
“I owe her so much, Joan. I really hope I can thank her someday.”
“I’m sure you’ll get the chance, Julie.”
****
Remmy was on her knees, pieces of the coin changer machine on the tile around her. The laundry was closed, so she had the place to herself. She had music from the musical Aspects of Love playing, Michael Ball singing about just how much love could change everything. She hummed along, suddenly on a Broadway musical kick for no particular reason. Last month it had been Tori Amos, even though she’d never been a huge fan.
As she listened to the musical’s characters of Alex and Rose arguing—Alex’s Uncle George was coming between them—Remmy continued to tinker. She was amazed by just how much she loved fixing the equipment, and by how good she was at it. The coin changing machine was an ancient piece of junk that the laundromat owner, Sid, had bought from a closing arcade twenty years earlier. It had probably already been twenty years old at that time. She pulled the machine apart at least twice a week, un-jamming the worn tumblers inside.
She held the penlight between her teeth as she pulled apart the final panel, which covered the jam. When it was free, she set the light aside and reached up into the channel with the screwdriver, poking until she felt the resistance she’d been feeling for.
“There you are,” she said, grunting as she removed the screwdriver and then unscrewed the plate that covered the fourth side of the channel. The Phillips screws gave way easily, allowing her to remove the long, thin piece of metal. Remmy nearly lost her lunch when she saw what the problem was. “Oh Jesus.”
With an expression of disgust, Remmy used the screwdriver to push out the decomposing roach parts, the bug apparently having gotten itself stuck inside the machine where it perished.
The spider scurried out through the long, jagged crack, the barest hint of daylight coming in through it. An empty pair of shackles rested on the dirt floor, the chain snaked around one metal bracelet.
Drip, drip, drip...
A dog whined, scratching at the door. On the stovetop was a pan, something simmering inside. Water turned on, pipes protested.
Shower turned off, a towel snatched from the towel bar next to the sliding doors.
Drip, drip, drip...
A naked woman lay on the bed, arms above her head, legs together, stretched out, crossed at the ankles—looked like Jesus. A blonde head. The head turned and the eyes opened. Intense green eyes stared, lifeless. The pale lips opened—
“Remmy...”
Remmy gasped, startled enough to throw the machine part to the ground where it clattered against the bubbling linoleum. Her heart was pounding, her breathing uneven, in danger of hyperventilation. She scooted across the floor until her back came into contact with a washing machine. Running a trembling hand through her hair to push it off her face, she tried to catch her breath.
“My God,” she whispered, gulping in a lungful of air. She looked around for her bottle of Dr Pepper, finally spotting it on top of one of the dryers. She scrambled to her feet and, in two huge leaps, had it in hand. She chugged like a woman dying of thirst, eyes closing against the pain dead center in her forehead. Familiar pain.
Setting the bottle of soda back on the metal lid, she took several deep breaths. She visualized the face in her mind’s eye—blonde hair and green eyes. Suddenly the lifeless eyes were transformed; they blinked. A small smile curled the lips as the face slowly lost its pallor. The face was beautiful, the eyes alive and with a bit of a twinkle.
“Thank you.”
Remmy looked around, startled by the words that seemed to echo inside the laundromat. She realized they were coming from the woman in her thoughts. Suddenly image after image crashed into her consciousness:
Sitting in the passenger seat of a small car. “Be careful, okay?”
Sunlight coming in between iron bars on a window.
Dark eyes closed in ecstasy, along with the sounds of loud grunting.
Blood, the taste of it along with flesh.
Driving like a lunatic, tunnel vision as she careened around a corner onto a new street.
A naked woman running out of a house, screaming. The feel of her cold flesh against Remmy’s warm hands. Soft skin.
A sense of absolute terror.
The loud sound of a gunshot, a sharp sting in her back. The feel of the cold snow underneath her cheek.
With startling clarity, Remmy had the entire picture. She consciously remembered the cold day in November, leading Grace through an obstacle course to find Julie, to save her. She remembered the naked woman running from the house, running straight to her, clinging to her, clawing at her. She remembered thinking that she would do anything to save Julie, anything to protect her, even put herself in the line of fire. She remembered the day she thought Julie had been killed, but in fact it had been Roxie. The relief that had flooded through her when she found out Julie was alive; their embrace in the field. Relief.
“Julie,” she whispered, eyes closing with a soft sigh and smile.
Chapter Thirty-two
Julie pushed the grocery cart along an aisle, a third of the way finished with picking up her monthly groceries. She stopped in front of the spices, picking up oregano and chili powder. Setting the containers in the basket, she smiled at the two figures walking toward her, the woman pushing a half-full grocery cart.
“Bob,” Julie said warmly, stepping into the warm embrace of her former boss. He gave her a fatherly squeeze then released her. She accepted a second hug from Bob’s wife. “It’s good to see you too, Charlene.”
“It’s good luck that I ran into you here, Julie. I was actually going to give you a call tomorrow.”
“Oh?”
“I want you to come back. I’ve got a position opening up for seventh grade, and I’d love nothing more than for you to fill it starting in August.” Julie’s fear and panic were apparent on her face, and the principal raised his hands to forestall any protest. “Take some time to think about it. It’s only the beginning of March, so you don’t have to make a decision right away. Okay?” He gave her a gentle smile.
“Okay. I’ll think about it.”
“Excellent. It was great seeing you again.” Bob gently squeezed her shoulder as he and his wife passed by.
Julie watched them go, her heart beating wildly in her throat. Could she possibly go back to that building, see that parking lot again? She drove past one day, hoping to pull into a space and sit it out, let her nerves and fears melt away. She hadn’t even been able to turn in the driveway.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” she said with a heavy sigh.
****
After dinner was eaten and the dishes cleaned up, Julie sat on the couch watching the evening news, her dogs resting on either side of her. She absently ran her fingers through the thin hair atop the dogs’ heads. She wasn’t listening to the news anchor; her thoughts were drifting back to running into Bob Greene at the store, and his offer. She wanted to go back to work; she missed the kids terribly, missed feeling whole. She wanted her life back.
A phone call to Matt to get his opinion hadn’t been helpful. He reluctantly admitted that he felt she wasn’t ready. Wasn’t ready for what? To stand alone all day in a classroom with her students? To interact with her peers? To step outside her house? She felt she would be able to do all of those things, if only she could take the first step and pull into that parking lot.
****
The trees whispered to each other as a soft breeze blew through them; the breeze also rippled the water in the stream. The landscape seemed so clear, so vivid. Julie walked to the edge of the water, feeling the soft material of her dress brushing against her calves. The dress pooled around her as she knelt down and reached out. She dipped her fingers into the water, smiling at its coolness as the water lapped at her skin.
Julie remained still, looking out over the water, trying to see what lay beyond, but she couldn’t. It was almost as though the boundaries of the world ended there, just at the edge of the stream. Fear clutched at her heart, making her want to cry out. Blood raced through her body, crashing into her stomach. She felt the heat of her unwanted companion against her back, as hot as the sun’s rays upon bare skin.
Standing, she squeezed her eyes shut, her mouth gone dry. She was afraid to turn around, afraid to face him, though he didn’t move. His shadow stood tall, legs spread in aggression. Julie began to tremble, a small whimper escaping her lips.
Julie thrashed, her legs scissoring beneath the sheets. Her fingers grabbed convulsively at the pillow like a pulse. “No. Please, no...”
The shadow moved closer. She tried to breathe, but the breath was stolen from her lungs by her all-consuming fear.
A soft touch on her shoulder—
Julie cried out in surprise, Bonnie raising her head from Julie’s hip at the sound.
The hand didn’t belong to him; his shadow’s hand hadn’t moved. Turning her tear-streaked face, she saw kind blue eyes staring back at her. Emitting a sigh of relief, Julie allowed herself to be engulfed in a tight, safe embrace, her fingers digging claw-like into Remmy’s shirt, holding her close. She no longer felt the shadow behind her, no longer felt the fear. She rested her head on the strong shoulder, holding on tighter.
Julie rested on her side, her legs relaxing into a more comfortable position, a deep sigh released as she settled into a deep, restful sleep.
Chapter Thirty-three
“Hey, Monica?” Remmy called as she entered the kitchen and tossed her jacket across the back of a chair. She could hear her cousin working in her art studio in the back. Together they had renovated the former garage into a painting studio. Remmy strode to the back door and pulled it open so Monica could hear her calling.
“Be right there!” Monica called back. “I sure am glad that spring is on the way, I’ve had more than enough of this damn winter. It’s been harsh, even for Nebraska,” Monica said, entering the kitchen, and heading to the bathroom.
Remmy was making coffee, her stomach in a turmoil about how Monica was going to react to her news. She could hear the water running and knew Monica was washing up. Remmy poured her cousin a cup of coffee and fixed it just how she liked it, and sat expectant for her return.
“How was your day?” Monica asked, picking up the mug and raising it to her lips. “Ohhh, perfect. Thank you.”
“It was good. Spent some time with Brenden and Fayola after work.”
“Oh yeah? How did that go?”
“Went well.” Remmy was quiet for a moment, sipping from her coffee, trying to decide on the best way to approach a difficult announcement. “Mon, you know I love you, and I’m so glad you found me.”
Monica studied her, glancing down at the fidgeting of her hands around the mug, and the way she wouldn’t meet Monica’s eyes. “Remmy? Rem, look at me.” Remmy slowly looked up, blue eyes brimming. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
She reached out and clasped Remmy’s hand, and Remmy appreciated the touch. Finally she laid it on the line. “I have to leave. I need to go back.”
Remmy winced as she could easily see the disappointment and pain in Monica’s eyes. Even so, she gave Remmy a brave smile and asked, “Why? What is there for you, honey?”
Remmy shook her head. “I don’t know, Mon. I just feel drawn there. It’s like something’s calling to me. Who knows?” She shrugged. “It may be because now that I remember everything, I need to make sure everything’s okay. I don’t know.”
“When will you leave?”
“I’m thinking I’ll head out next weekend. I talked to Sid today, gave him notice.”
Monica nodded and was silent for a long time. Finally, she cleared her throat and spoke. “Don’t lose touch again, okay?” Monica said, voice husky with emotion.
“Okay.”
****
A week later, Remmy rested her forehead against the cool glass, tugging the collar of her jacket up a little higher. She hated how cold Greyhound buses were. She watched the scenery whiz by. The snow had melted in most areas, and some frosted grass and barren dirt patches could be seen from time to time. She adjusted her headset to fit more comfortably, the music of John Lennon calming her as her heart raced.
Remmy drew her legs up until only the toes of her boots were hanging off the front of her seat, arms wrapped around her shins. John Lennon’s “#9 Dream” playing in her ears, her fingers began to tap against her denim-clad legs. Before she left Omaha, she’d considered calling Joan to see if it was possible to get her job back, but she changed her mind. She had always been able to find some kind of job at the drop of a hat, so if it didn’t work out with the store, she’d find something else.
Forehead nearly numb, Remmy raised her head and looked around, taking note of several passengers near her. She was able to watch unobserved, so decided to put some of Fayola’s lessons into practice. Surrounded by so many people, it was inevitable that she would pick up on something from one or more of them. They couldn’t hide their souls from her.
Sitting across the narrow aisle from her was a woman, probably no older than thirty. Her shaggy, short brown hair had lighter highlights, which needed to be touched up. Her gaze was fixed on a laptop computer set up on her lap, her fingers typing at ridiculous speeds. Tapping continuously, the woman looked over at Remmy, dark eyes smiling politely before returning to her task. Apparently feeling somewhat nervous at the scrutiny, the woman reached out and placed her left hand atop the backpack that sat in the empty seat next to her.
