by Tasha Black
“Okay,” Solo said. “What is it?”
“You can never do this again,” she said.
“Never use my gift?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “Your gift can be invasive, but it’s part of who you are. I’m talking about the fact that I told you I didn’t want to come here and you tricked me. That’s not okay. From here on in, you need to be honest with me, and know that when I say no I mean no. Do you understand?”
“I understand, Cecily” he said, nodding solemnly. I will not try to trick you again.”
“If you do, it’s over,” she told him, giving him a stern look to make sure he knew she wasn’t kidding.
He nodded again, reproachfully. He looked so much like a sad puppy that she had to resist cracking a smile and undermining her own message.
“Okay,” she said, hopping out of the RV.
The other four were huddled together on the sidewalk opposite the park. They looked up at her as one, like a herd of startled deer.
“It’s okay,” she said. “Get back in and we’ll explain on the way to my storage unit.”
15
Cecily
Cecily finished re-taping the last box and straightened up, brushing off her hands.
“It’s a bust,” she said.
“Now what?” Kate asked from the hallway outside the tiny storage locker. She and Kirk had just rejoined them after securing them all rooms at the only thing resembling a hotel in town, the Greenville Inn.
“I’m not sure,” Cecily said. “If nothing in here brought on a memory of my dad, I don’t know where I’d have to go to find one. I don’t have any more of my mom’s stuff anywhere.”
Solo’s expression was unreadable.
She wondered if maybe he had seen something after all.
“What about your house?” Bea asked.
“I sold it,” Cecily said. “There’s another family living there now.”
“Do you know them?” Kate asked. “Would they let us visit? Just in case there is some kind of clue there.”
“No, and no,” Cecily said. “I was still kind of hurting about my mom when I sold the house. I never met the people. The estate attorney signed everything for me. But I wasn’t the most pleasant negotiator. I don’t think they would have much reason to help me.”
“But they never actually saw you?” Bea asked.
Cecily shook her head.
“So we pretend to be from the gas company,” Bea said.
“Oh, like 101 Dalmatians,” Buck put in excitedly.
“Uh, yeah,” Bea said, less excitedly. “Kind of like that.”
“But we won’t take any puppies, right?” Buck asked.
“Of course not,” Bea assured him.
“It’s a good plan then.” He nodded sagely.
“We need costumes,” Kate said.
“I’ve got a couple of coveralls I use when I’m building props,” Cecily said.
“This seems risky,” Kate said.
“The worst thing that can happen is that they try to call the gas company and we make a break for it,” Bea said.
“What do you think, Solo?” Cecily asked. “If we can get you in there can you get a reading off something like a wall or a door?”
“I saw you after touching the kitchen counter back in Philadelphia,” Solo replied. “It was before I even met you, Cecily.”
She felt the blood rush to her cheeks.
“Okay, let’s do this,” Kate announced, buying Cecily a moment to recover.
Cecily secured the storage locker and they all headed out to the RV.
Half an hour later, they were pulling up in front of the brick Cape Cod where Cecily had grown up.
She noticed that the flowering azaleas were still in the beds in the front of the house. The new owners had put up a porch swing and planted a row of baby evergreens that would one day block the neighbors’ driveway.
Her mom had always talked about doing that.
“You okay?” Kate asked.
Cecily nodded as they approached the door.
“I’ll handle this,” Bea said, marching forward.
Cecily fought the urge to giggle.
Bea always wore black satin, leather or lace. Her goth style was epic. But in preparation for her role as a gas company representative, Bea had borrowed a hot pink polo shirt and a pair of khakis from Kate. She actually looked pretty professional, but to anyone who knew the real Beatrix Li, the difference was comical.
Bea knocked on the door.
A moment later a woman opened it. She had short blonde hair and a baby on her hip.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“We’re here from the gas company, ma’am,” Beatrix said. “One of your neighbors called in a leak. Have you smelled gas anywhere in your residence?”
“No,” the woman replied, her eyes wide.
“This is number 816, right?” Beatrix asked, consulting her clipboard. “Sandra and Robert Winthrop?”
“That’s us,” the woman said. “Wow.”
“Don’t be alarmed, ma’am,” Bea said. “Sometimes a pedestrian just gets a whiff of something when they’re walking. It doesn’t always mean a gas leak, or if there is one, it doesn’t necessarily mean it’s in your home. But we can’t be too safe.”
“Of course not,” Sandra said. “Do you need to come in?”
“What’s going on?” a man’s voice asked from inside.
“Gas leak, Bob, they have to check the house,” Sandra called back.
“Wow,” Bob said. “You want to take the baby outside, Sandy?”
The woman stepped inside and opened the door for Beatrix, who gestured the others in.
Kirk and Solo stepped inside and Cecily followed. Kate and Buck were in the RV around the corner, prepared to be the getaway drivers if the need arose. She didn’t think it would come to that, but she also didn’t want to risk someone recognizing Kate from her TV show.
“Wouldn’t we smell gas?” Sandy worried.
“You might think so,” Beatrix said. “But it takes only the tiniest pinhole leak to present a risk. So we don’t rely on our noses. We use gas leak detection meters.”
Buck waved around his detection meter for them to see.
It was really just a prop Cecily had thrown together from her own supplies and the contents of the toolbox on the RV. Solo had one too. They wouldn’t hold up to close inspection, so Cecily told the guys to keep them moving around as much as possible.
As Beatrix drew out the Winthrop family in a conversation about natural gas safety, Solo headed for the stairs.
He waved his detector around with one hand while patting the walls and woodwork with his other.
He looked a bit like he was pretending to be blind. Cecily hoped he was getting readings.
“I’m going to check upstairs,” he said.
She followed him up.
“Which room was your mother’s?” he whispered.
She pointed him down the hall to the room overlooking the front yard.
He touched the knob and the doorframe.
He went over to the window and placed his hands on the frame.
Cecily watched as Solo’s eyes closed and a shiver went over his big body.
He was seeing something, she was sure of it.
There were sounds on the stairs. She hoped it was only Bea and Kirk. But of course it was the owner.
“What’s he doing?” Bob asked from the doorway.
“Oh, um, he has a good nose for this,” Cecily said. “He didn’t get a reading, but he’s got a hunch. Give him a sec.”
“Wow, good talent for the job, huh?” Bob asked.
“I’m going outside with the baby, hon,” Sandy called from downstairs.
“Okay,” Bob said.
He stood, gazing at Solo in fascination.
They weren’t going to get the house to themselves.
Suddenly Solo straightened.
“Did you pick up a gas scent?” Cecily asked quick
ly.
Solo blinked and turned to face his audience.
“Nope,” he said. “And the meter’s not getting anything either. You’re safe.”
“Aren’t you going to check the basement?” Bob sounded mystified.
But Solo had already walked past him and was heading down the stairs.
“No, we got the readings we needed,” Bea said.
They crossed through the living room and out into the yard, where Sandy stood by the azaleas with the baby.
Cecily thought of the pictures her mom had taken of her in front of the flowers each year and got a lump in her throat.
“That was quick,” Sandy said.
“Thank you very much for your cooperation,” Bea said. “There’s no need to worry. This was a false alarm situation.”
“Geez, what a day,” Sandy said. “First the guy from the movies, and now a false alarm gas leak. What’s next?”
“Oh, I’m not so sure that was him, hon,” Bob said. “Just because he had sunglasses on doesn’t mean he was from Hollywood.”
“What guy from the movies?” Bea asked.
Sandy looked thoughtful for a moment.
“Shoot, I can’t remember his name,” she said.
“It wasn’t him,” Bob said. “Anyway, I’m sure you guys have more important things to do.”
They headed back into the house, still arguing pleasantly over whether they had seen a movie star or just a man with sunglasses.
“I guess there’s not much to do in this town, huh?” Bea teased Cecily.
“Do you think they really saw a movie star?” Buck asked.
“There hasn’t been a movie star in this town in years,” Cecily said. “At least not until Kate got here this morning.”
Solo was quiet.
“Did you get anything useful?” she asked him.
“Maybe,” he said. “It was very faint. I saw her outside somewhere, with a man, but his back was turned.”
“Why would touching her window give you a memory of somewhere else?” Cecily asked.
“It’s not an exact science,” Solo told her. “Maybe she spent time looking out the window and thinking about the place I saw. It is possible that if we go to wherever they were, I could get a stronger reading. But I don’t know where it is.”
“What did it look like?” Cecily asked, grasping at straws. She was surprised at how disappointed she felt.
“It was a wide open space, with huge rocks,” he said.
“Greenfield Gorge,” Cecily exclaimed.
“Do you know where it is?” he asked.
“Absolutely,” she said, her excitement returning. “Let’s go.”
16
Solo
Solo climbed out of the RV and looked around.
It was strange to visit a place that shared so many qualities with Aerie and yet was so different.
A wide expanse of brown rocks and crags spread out before him. Sunlight bounced off the stones, its quality so cool and far away compared with the blazing white starlight of his former home.
The ground between the rocks was clay dirt, not sand, but it had the same dry and dusty quality.
“This is where My Red Hot Alien Summer was filmed,” Bea said reverently, looking around.
“This doesn’t look like it,” Buck said dubiously.
“They used gels in the lighting to change the color,” Bea explained. “Try to picture it as more red.”
“Oh,” Buck said. “I see.”
Cecily climbed up on a large rock and surveyed the valley below. She stood with her feet wide and her shoulders thrown back. The breeze tumbled her curls over her shoulder and Solo thought she looked like the drawings of Greek goddesses in Dr. Bhimani’s library back in Stargazer.
“Have you found anything, brother?” Kirk called to him.
Solo remembered himself, shook his head and wandered through the crags, trying to find the outcropping where he had seen Cecily’s mother.
It had been vague, a memory of a memory. He wondered if she had really stood by the window, stroking the frame and thinking of her lost love, or if he had gotten it all wrong.
Solo didn’t want to disappoint Cecily, but he had never tried to pick up a particular memory before.
For the most part, he tried not to pick up memories at all. He had been given to understand that the invasion of privacy was impolite. On Aerie a single instance of bad manners might be social suicide.
Here on Earth he knew the rules were looser, but it was hard to relax his own manners even if others would accept it. Besides, he had no wish to intrude on anyone’s private thoughts. The things he had seen were often confusing and sometimes frightening.
But if his power could help Cecily, then he might actually begin to think of it as a gift instead of a curse.
He reached the edge of the precipice and turned back.
That was when he saw it.
Somehow, Cecily had chosen to stand on the exact rock her mother had been leaning against in the memory. He had been looking at it from the wrong angle.
He approached her, shading his eyes from the sun.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey,” he replied. “I was looking for the rock your mom was leaning against. But you were standing on it the whole time.”
“Should I get down?” she asked.
“No, I’m just going to touch it,” he told her.
Solo closed his eyes and pictured Cecily’s mother. He reached out with his hand and his mind at the same time.
The moment his hand touched the rock the scene around him went dim.
Stars glimmered in the sky above.
Cecily’s mother, Agnes Page, reclined against the rock in front of him.
A man stood before her.
“I really like you,” he said in a voice that was somehow familiar to Solo. “But the acting lifestyle is difficult. I travel all the time. I’ll be gone tomorrow and who knows where after that?”
“I don’t care,” Agnes said, reaching her hand up to cup his cheek.
“You’re a nice girl, I don’t want to hurt you,” the man said softly.
Solo backed up, hoping the vision would hold.
As he moved, the man groaned in surrender.
Solo slid to the side to try and get a better look at him. But the man’s face was now blocked by Cecily’s mom’s hair as they kissed.
Though the vision was a shadowy ghost compared to real life, Solo could see that the man was tall and lean.
At last they pulled back from the kiss.
Solo nearly gasped.
Though the man was decades older now, Solo would have recognized that face anywhere.
And in this context, it suddenly struck him how odd it was that none of them had figured it out before.
Cecily had obviously gotten her curls and her smile from her mom.
But she had the exact same constellation of freckles across the bridge of her nose as her father.
Dirk Malcolm.
17
Solo
Solo let go of the rock. Let go of the past.
The sunlight of the present day crashed into his face.
“Are you okay?” Cecily asked, scrambling down to join him.
The others gathered around.
He looked into the eyes of the woman he loved more than anything in the world, wondering where he would find the strength to tell her the truth.
He closed his eyes and pictured the man again.
It was definitely Dirk.
In a way, it made sense. He had filmed a movie right where they were standing. He would have had ample time to interact with residents of the town.
But he remembered Cecily saying that her aunt was the one to have an affair with the movie star.
Could Dirk Malcolm have had affairs with both sisters?
It occurred to Solo that maybe the vision he had just seen was a vision of Cecily’s aunt and not her mother at all. Maybe he had picked up one of her memories at the hous
e.
He’d seen pictures of Cecily’s mom, but not her aunt. He wondered if the two women looked alike. Cecily shared her mother’s curls. Maybe they ran in the family and everything he had just seen meant nothing.
“What is it?” Cecily asked. “What did you see?”
“I’m - I’m not sure,” he hedged. “Do you still have family in this town?”
“Yeah,” Cecily said. “My Uncle Ray moved to Portland when I was in high school, but my Aunt Stacy’s here. She still has the nail salon on Main Street.”
“Can we go see her?” Solo asked.
“Sure,” Cecily said. “Absolutely. Come on, guys.”
He could see the worry in her eyes. But until he learned more, there was nothing Solo could do to ease it.
Cecily drove, a look of resolve on her face.
Solo was glad she was determined, glad she wanted to know the truth. If it could be found today, he would find it for her.
At last they pulled up in a small downtown area.
Cecily parked the RV and they all piled out.
The town library had handsome marble columns, otherwise it was a modest town square filled with glass storefronts and metal benches.
Cecily set off in the direction of a shop with the words Greenfield Nail Salon on the awning above it.
“We’ll go to the cafe down the block,” Kate told Solo. “You go on with her. Let us know if you need us.”
Solo nodded and entered the nail salon after Cecily.
Solo noticed the scent of chemicals, then the line of women sitting on large chairs with their feet in small pools of water.
“Cecily?”
A woman stepped from behind the cash register. She was very tall, with stick-straight brown hair and big brown eyes.
“Aunt Stacy,” Cecily said warmly.
The two women embraced and Solo felt their happiness in his heart. At the same time, he knew that this was not the woman from his vision.
“What are you doing here, honey?” Aunt Stacy asked.
“We need to talk privately,” Cecily said.
“Come on back,” her aunt said.
“Come on, Solo,” Cecily said.
