Vision of Shadows

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Vision of Shadows Page 12

by Vincent Morrone


  Uncle Mark took a moment to think as he looked hard at Balthazar and then at Payne. “Payne, all I need from you is one word that tells me you don’t feel safe here tonight. You know that. I hope you know you can trust me.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Payne answered. “And I do trust you. But I’ll be fine. I promise.”

  “Mr. McKnight,” Uncle Mark said, “I’m going to ignore the jab about even a Blackburn. I don’t mind saying that I’m getting a little tired of trying to convince you that I intend to treat everyone in my town fairly. And I could lock your son up tonight for reckless endangerment. No one was hurt, but Payne might have been killed.”

  Balthazar snorted. Once again, Varick silenced his son with nothing but a glare.

  “I’m also not convinced,” Uncle Mark said, “that I’m getting the full truth here. I intend to take that gun with me and give your son a summons. He can arrange to pick it up when he’s in better condition.”

  “Hey,” Balthazar yelled. “You can’t take my gun. I got me the right to bear arms.”

  “Quiet,” Varick instructed. “The sheriff has every right to confiscate your weapon. And I will decide if and when you may retrieve it. Considering the fool you have made of yourself, you’re lucky that’s all he is doing. I’ve half a mind to let him throw you in that jail of his. You understand me?”

  Balthazar crossed his arms and sneered.

  “One more thing,” Uncle Mark said. “And this is nonnegotiable. I don’t want Payne spending the night in this house tonight. I can bring him to any relative he likes, or he’s welcome to stay with me but…”

  “That will not be necessary,” Varick interrupted. “Payne, please go inside and pack a bag. I think you will be spending a week or so with your grandfather.”

  Payne nodded. Despite everything, I could see the affection that Varick had for his grandson was genuine.

  “Very good,” Varick replied. “Go on now. I’m sure the good sheriff will wait until you’re gone before he leaves. And Payne… don’t forget to put a shirt on.”

  Payne laughed and started to head for the house.

  “Um, Payne,” I said. “Where is your shirt? Did you just decide to put on a show for your neighbors?”

  Payne shot me a grin, the kind that made me want to giggle like a silly schoolgirl, which I did not do. “No, I took it off earlier when I spilled something. That’s all.”

  I wasn’t going to complain, but I had the feeling there was something he wasn’t telling me.

  “I’m sorry,” Payne said. “Grandpa, this is the sheriff’s niece, Bristol. She was with me today when Jared was found.”

  “I see,” Varick said and looked at me. I was suddenly very aware of how horrible I must have looked.

  Oh. My. God.

  I was out here with Payne McKnight, and I looked like I just rolled out of bed. I had a good excuse for that as I had just rolled out of bed, but I couldn’t say that; they all thought I was on the phone with Payne.

  “Hello, Bristol,” Varick said. “I’ve heard of the unfortunate news of your parents. I am very sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you, sir,” I said. “And thank you for having Payne stay with you. It makes me feel better. I’m a little embarrassed. I didn’t expect to come out tonight. I must really look like a ragamuffin.”

  Payne smiled and twirled my hair again. “You look wonderful. I’m sorry you had to come here and see this, but after the day that I’ve had, seeing you was a nice surprise.”

  I could have spent the entire night just standing there with Payne looking into my eyes like that and twirling my hair.

  Uncle Mark had other ideas. He tapped Payne’s shoulder and signaled for him to move away. “You go into the house and get dressed, Payne. Now.”

  Payne smiled and left, making sure to keep his eye on his father as he passed.

  “Well, well,” Varick said. “Out of all my grandchildren, Payne is the one I see smile the least. He’s had a difficult life. It pleases me to see him happy.”

  I blushed. “He seems like a really nice guy. We’re just starting to become friends.”

  Varick sent my uncle a look. It was fairly clear he had hoped that was all we were becoming. After a few seconds, Payne came running out. Varick let him give me a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. When he did, Payne whispered in my ear, “Thanks for coming. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Varick herded Payne into his car. Varick looked to me one last time. “It was… interesting to meet you, Bristol. You uh…. You say hello to your grandfather for me, won’t you?”

  They left, and my uncle had me sit in the car. Soon, the aforementioned Pinky showed up to collect Balthazar’s firearm. I didn’t get to talk with him, but even from where I was, I could see why he was called Pinky. Thin as a stick, a light, pinkish complexion combined with a squeaky voice, and a short stature. This guy never had a chance of being called anything but Pinky.

  Later, I watched Uncle Mark as we drove home. He gripped the steering wheel like he was imagining it was someone’s neck. I couldn’t help but wonder whose.

  Hopefully not mine.

  “I don’t buy it,” Uncle Mark said. “I don’t buy it for one second.”

  I squirmed. He wasn’t buying the story about me being on the phone with Payne. Payne had done a great job selling it, but all it would have taken was one stunned look from Payne for Uncle Mark to catch on.

  “I’m sorry, Uncle Mark,” I said. “I really am. I just—”

  “Hey,” Uncle Mark interrupted. “You have nothing to be sorry about. You didn’t do anything wrong. You did the right thing coming to me. You can always come to me, okay?”

  I was afraid to say anything. Not only was I afraid I would say the wrong thing, I was so touched.

  “Let me ask you a question, Bristol,” he said. “And I don’t want any of that refusing to betray Payne’s confidence crap. Not about this. Did you buy for one second that what happened there tonight with that shotgun was nothing more than an accident?”

  I thought about it for a few moments, remembering how many of my visions of Payne were of him being hurt.

  “No,” I answered. “I don’t believe it. I hate to say that, because it means that Payne lied, but no. I think Payne’s very lucky to be alive.”

  Uncle Mark nodded. “I could have pulled him out of there tonight. Would have, if he didn’t end up going with Varick, but the fact is I have no proof. It didn’t look like there was a scratch on him. I looked. Maybe I didn’t look as closely as you did…”

  He sent me a wink. I contemplated jumping from the car but instead blushed several shades of red.

  “Sorry, couldn’t resist.” Uncle Mark laughed. “I hope when you see Payne again, if he tells you anything different, you’ll tell me. Don’t make any promise to keep secrets. I know that may be really hard on you. I’m sorry for that, but I need to know. One of these days, Payne’s luck is going to run out.”

  God, Uncle Mark had no idea what he was asking of me. He wanted me to betray the trust of the one person who knew my secret. Which meant that in retaliation, Payne could not only tell my uncle about me, but the whole ever-loving town.

  But he was right. If Payne was being hurt, and Balthazar had simply missed, I couldn’t not tell—no matter what the cost.

  “I’ll tell you,” I answered. “I promise.”

  Uncle Mark smiled as he pulled into the driveway. “Good. I’m proud of you.” He leaned over and gave me a hug. “I know a girl needs her privacy. I hope, at least as far as the important stuff is concerned, we never have any secrets between us.”

  Oh boy. If only he knew.

  * * * *

  I had been here many times before. I stood in an abandoned house, a fire raging out of control, but it wasn’t the flames that had me terrified. I was looking into the eyes of someone who clearly wanted me dead. I was cornered. His eyes were ablaze with hatred and the promise of violence. He was going to kill me.

  Yeah, been there, done th
at. But this time was different.

  I now knew who I was facing. His name was Payne McKnight. Even here, I couldn’t help but notice how incredibly beautiful he was. His shirt was ripped, his hair messed, but he looked perfect. His dark hair fell over his deep blue eyes, but I could still see the rage within them.

  I couldn’t run away. Where would I go? If he didn’t kill me soon himself, I’d burn to death. You would think that would worry him as well, but no. There was no fear in his eyes; just loathing, violence and more than a wee bit of insanity.

  “Please,” I whispered. “Please don’t. If you ever loved me. Please.”

  Payne responded to my plea by reaching out and grabbing my throat. “Of course I loved you. And that’s why you have to die.”

  His hand tightened and the flames grew closer. I tried to scream, but nothing but a whimper escaped me.

  At least not until I woke up.

  No matter how many times you dream it, you just never get used to seeing your own murder. I held myself, trying to keep from sobbing. Those dreams always got to me, but this time was worse. It was worse knowing who Payne was. It was harder, hearing those words about love. It told me he was going to love me, and then murder me. It was maddening because, although I most definitely did not want him to kill me, I was starting to realize how much I did want him to love me. Was it too much to ask for one without the other? Did this mean the closer I got to Payne, the closer I’d get to him killing me?

  Uncle Mark burst through my door and rushed to my side, pulling me into his arms. It felt so strange and unfamiliar. Had it been that long since someone cared enough to come running into my room because I had a nightmare?

  I looked over Uncle Mark’s shoulder. Simon and Zack were up as well. They looked frightened. I felt mortified, realizing how loudly I must have screamed to wake the entire house. Even Grandpa was there, pushing the kids back to their rooms.

  “You got her?” Grandpa asked.

  Uncle Mark nodded. Grandpa closed my door.

  “I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I’m sorry I woke you. Stupid nightmare. I just…”

  “Shhh,” Uncle Mark whispered as he continued to hold me.

  I felt stupid. I felt embarrassed. I felt…

  I felt everything that’d been bottled up for so long come pouring out. All of the grief and anger and fear overwhelmed me. I cried, and once the floodgates opened, I couldn’t stop the tears.

  Uncle Mark held me and just let me blubber. Why didn’t he run away? Why didn’t he curse my parents for leaving him a weepy teenager who wouldn’t even let him get a good night’s sleep? How could he stand to deal with me when even Ricky was hiding in his soup can?

  So, is this what it was like to have somebody love you?

  Slowly, the wet sobs were replaced by a few dry laughs. “Oh, man. I am so sorry. I hope I didn’t scare you.”

  Uncle Mark smiled. “Just a bit. I think, all things considered, having a nightmare or two is pretty normal. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  I looked into his patient eyes, and the memory of my conversation with Aunt Eve came flooding back. How I could do the unthinkable and tell Uncle Mark everything. Right here, right now. I could believe that. I wanted to believe it. There was a very big part of me that wanted to tell him.

  But I couldn’t bring myself to get the words out. Man, I was such a wimp.

  “I’m okay,” I said. “Really.”

  “Bristol,” Uncle Mark said. “You know you can tell me anything. If you need to talk, I’m here for you.”

  I nodded, pushing both the guilt for not opening up and the yearning to do just that aside. “I know. I really do. I just… I guess I needed a good cry is all.”

  He smiled. “Well, I’ve got a good shoulder for that, too. Whenever you need me, just let me know. Okay?”

  In that moment, I so understood why Aunt Eve had fallen in love with him.

  “I will,” I replied. “You go back to bed. It’s late. I’m okay, I swear.”

  Uncle Mark kissed the top of my head before pulling the covers over me and letting himself out, closing the door shut behind him.

  But I still wasn’t alone.

  I hadn’t seen Jay since earlier that afternoon. He was sitting in an old rocking chair Uncle Mark had found and put in my room, telling me he thought I’d like it. Of course Uncle Mark had been right.

  Jay got up and walked across the room. I couldn’t help but wonder what my uncle would have thought if he knew I had such an incredibly gorgeous guy in my room. Would it make a difference that the boy was only a ghost?

  Jay sent me a smile before lying next to me.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “Just sleep. It occurred to me you would have an easier time resting if there was someone with you to chase the nightmares away. Close your eyes, darling. I promise to be here in the morning.”

  I returned the smile, closed my eyes, and went to sleep.

  * * * *

  When I woke the next morning, it took me only seconds to become aware of the stunning ghost lying next to me. It was more than a bit of a shock, but a pleasant one.

  It was probably very wrong for me to have let Jay spend the night. I mean, I’m only seventeen, but did this really count? Jay was, after all, a ghost. He was an amazingly beautiful ghost, but still he had no body. I couldn’t touch him, and he couldn’t touch me. Not to mention I was wearing no makeup, my hair was a mess, and I probably had that crusty stuff you get in the corner of your eyes when you sleep. I must have looked frightening. In fact, I probably would have scared the poor boy to death if he weren’t already among the dearly departed.

  “Good morning, darling,” Jay said with that seductive smile of his. “I hope you’re feeling better.”

  I stretched, returning the smile. “Yeah, I guess. I just needed a good night’s sleep.”

  “Good. I’m so happy to hear that,” Jay replied. “Tell me, darling, what was your nightmare about?”

  I shrugged. “It was silly.”

  Jay cocked one eyebrow. “I don’t think so. There was something about the way you looked. So very haunted. It gave me quite a fright, darling. Please, why don’t you tell me what it was about? I might be able to help.”

  I sighed. I did really want to talk to someone about this recurring dream that had been waking me up at night for as long as I could remember. I’ve never spoken about it to anyone, except Ricky. If I was being honest here, Ricky was never been much help. I knew he cared, but he never really had much to offer.

  Jay seemed like a logical choice. After all, he’d certainly believe me. He was available, willing, and just so gosh-darn cute. I loved the way he talked to me. Very classy. Besides, who would he tell?

  “Okay, maybe it would be good to talk this out,” I said. “But let me tell you the whole thing, okay?”

  Jay shifted positions and gave me a nod.

  “Okay, then.” I took a deep breath, feeling like a kid who was trying to get up the nerve to jump into the pool, afraid of how cold the water would be. Then I looked into Jay’s beautiful eyes, and I decided I was ready to take the plunge. “For as long as I can remember, I’ve dreamt about Payne McKnight.”

  I started with all of the fleeting images I’d had of Payne over the years. I explained quickly all of the reckless things I’d seen Payne do. Then with a bit of guilt, I began telling Jay about all of the visions of Payne and I being together. I felt bad for describing these things to Jay. They were such wonderful moments that perhaps might lie in my future, but were possibilities that had been forever stolen from him. I wondered if Jay mourned for the life he never had, the children he’d never father.

  “It’s a lovely life you are describing,” Jay said. “And yes I’m consumed by jealousy, but please continue.”

  How cruel was I being to Jay right now? But I needed to finish what I had started, so after a moment I continued.

  “There has been another dream,” I explained. “One I keep having over and over again. One that’s a lot less
happily ever after and far more psycho than all of the others.”

  Jay shifted. “And this more horrific dream? Am I to assume it’s the reason you woke last night drenched in sweat, panic in your eyes?”

  “Yeah, that would be a fairly safe bet,” I answered. “And it makes no sense. There’s no way all of those wonderful, lovely, storybook kind of dreams could exist and yet this other, not so nice dream also be real. It’s not possible. It’s really silly of me to even worry about it,” I concluded, fooling no one but myself. Even Ricky in his soup can was probably shaking his head.

  “So tell me,” Jay urged. “I would very much like to hear your ‘not so nice’ dream. Indulge me. Does something wicked happen to little Payne? Perhaps one of his many reckless stunts catches up with him? That would be such a shame, wouldn’t it?”

  “Jay,” I admonished. “That’s not nice.”

  “Bristol dear, please forgive me. I never wished to cause you any distress. I promise to behave.”

  I figured Jay deserved a little leeway. After all, it must be hard for him to hear this.

  “Okay,” I said. “In my not so nice dream, it’s not Payne who ends up getting hurt.” I forced myself into a sitting position. “It’s me.”

  Jay slowly rose as well, the playfulness in his eyes replaced by something far darker. It was like watching a thunderstorm roll into a clear sky.

  “Explain, Bristol,” he commanded. “How is it you are harmed in this dream?”

  His intensity was palatable. So much so, it scared me. Ignoring my fear, I closed my eyes and blurted it out. “Payne kinda, sorta kills me.”

  I heard nothing. No response, no gasp, no laughter, or sound of shock. Just silence. I slowly opened one eye and took a peek to see if Jay was still in the room.

  He was. And he looked really mad.

  “It’s not as bad as it sounds,” I said. “I’ve had hundreds of dreams with Payne, and out of all of them he only kills me in the one!” Wow, that sounded really stupid when I said it out loud.

 

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