Zellie Wells Trilogy

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Zellie Wells Trilogy Page 12

by Stacey Wallace Benefiel


  All three of us girls looked to Grandma. She held her fork to her mouth, about to take a bite. “I haven’t tried to see and I won’t unless you want me to, dear.”

  I glared at Claire. “I’m not ready to go there yet.”

  Claire pouted. “How could you possibly not want to know? I just don’t get it.”

  Fine, I’ll tell her the truth. Maybe then she’ll shut up about it. “He triggered the visions, but that doesn’t mean that it was love, okay? Get it?” I leaned my head back and forced the tears I could feel coming back in. “Avery doesn’t love me anymore and he doesn’t have to for this stuff to work.” I looked at Grandma. “So, if that’s what the future holds, I don’t really want to know.”

  Grandma nodded her head. “Fair enough.” She set her bowl down on the floor. “That’s plenty of questions for tonight. What do you say we do something normal? Big Brother’s going to be on soon.”

  At six the next morning Grandma shook me awake. “Come on, we’ve got a lot of work to do. Get dressed. I’ve put the kettle on for tea.”

  I scooted to the edge of the pull-out couch I shared with Melody. I tried not to step on Claire, who slept on an air mattress positioned between the couch and a closet door. Our sleeping arrangements took up almost the entire floor of the family room. I made my way into the bathroom, brushed my teeth, washed my face and threw on the only clean outfit left in my suitcase.

  Grandma was waiting for me when I opened the bathroom door. She had two insulated mugs in the crook of one arm and her large brown purse in the opposite hand. “Ready?” she whispered. “Let’s walk over to the MAX station. I try to take the light rail when I’m in Portland. Parking downtown,” she rolled her eyes, “there’s always construction.”

  We stepped outside. It was already muggy. July was the worst. It never cooled down past seventy at night and with our close proximity to the Willamette River, moisture clung to the air. I pushed the sleeves of my pullover up to my elbows. “What are we doing today, Grandma?”

  She handed me a mug. “I thought we’d go downtown. Try and find you someone to rewind.”

  “I don’t know.” I took a drink of tea. “The last time I did a rewind I ended up in the hospital.”

  “That’s because your ability had to work without your consent. When your intention is to rewind, the process doesn’t take so much out of you.” She nodded toward my tea. “Still, you’d better drink up.”

  We descended the stairs to the MAX platform and sat on a metal bench under an overhang. While we waited for the next westbound train, Grandma dug in her bag. She tore a prepaid ticket from a book and gave one to me.

  “Here we go.” She stood up and walked to the edge of the platform. I followed. We boarded a car with two seating areas, one on the level we were standing on, and another up three steps. Grandma chose to sit on the lower level facing towards the upper level.

  When the MAX started moving, she leaned in to me and spoke in a hushed tone. “Okay. What do you feel about the blonde woman sitting on the upper level there, with the red shirt?”

  I was confused. “What do I feel about her?” I studied her for a moment, nothing popped into my head. “I don’t get a reading on her, if that’s what you mean. I think I’m better at guessing after they’ve already gotten sick or hurt themselves.”

  “Focus, really try to see it happening.”

  The MAX slowed down and the woman got up, walking toward us to the steps. The vision clicked in my head. I leapt forward from my seat and caught her by the arm just as she slipped down the steps. “Watch it now!” I said, helping her to her feet.

  “Thank you. I just about bit it big time, didn’t I?” She giggled.

  “Yeah, you might wanna rethink those high heels. You’re liable to break an ankle.”

  The MAX came to a stop and the doors opened. The woman got off the car, giving me a little wave. “Thanks again.”

  I sat back down next to Grandma. “How was that? I thought just plain helping her was easier than trying to rewind her fall.”

  She put a finger to her lips and patted my knee. “That was great. You’re right about not rewinding, far too many people and neither one of us has our Lookouts.”

  “So, is Aunt Hazel going to be giving Melody lessons too?” I whispered.

  She nodded. “Just as soon as one of us has a vision that deserves the full treatment.”

  We crossed Steel Bridge. I looked down at the water. I’d liked helping that lady, keeping her from breaking her ankle. I concentrated on the boats below. Everything seemed to be going well, which was good I supposed. That thought made me get the giggles.

  Grandma patted my knee again. “I know you’re anxious to get started Zellie, but let’s try and not wish someone were drowning.”

  The MAX made a stop in Old Town. Grandma nudged me with her purse. “This is where we get off.”

  I followed her from the MAX down an alley between a strip club and a Chinese restaurant. What? Your grandma doesn’t hang out in places like that too? It was kind of gross.

  “This is usually a reliable place to find a few drunks napping. You can practice your rewinds here.” Grandma stood and pointed to the end of the alley where three dumpsters sat all askew.

  I didn’t walk any further. “You want me to practice on drunks?” That was way icky, morally speaking.

  Grandma threw her hands up. “It’s either that or coma patients, and half the time they wake up after being rewound. Drunks ask fewer questions.”

  I sighed. “All right, how do I start?”

  She walked toward one of the dumpsters and peered inside. “I’m going to lift this gentleman out and then you can put him back in.” She held her arm out. “It helps if you channel the energy through your fingers. Try it, you’ll feel what I mean. Concentrate. Focus on your intention. See the rewind happening.” She spread her fingers apart, lifted her arm up, summoning.

  Two dirty bare feet rose into the air and out over the dumpster, bending the man they were attached to over the edge. Grandma flicked her wrist back. The man’s toes found their way to the ground. He stood up. She held him there. “Okay. I’ve got him. Now, you help him back in.” She nodded at the dumpster.

  “This has totally got to be illegal,” I muttered. I put my hand out in front of me and focused. I pictured the man floating, moving upward. He lifted a foot.

  Grandma stepped away, her arm down at her side. “That’s it, easy now.”

  The man didn’t move. I tightened my focus. Uh-oh. Pine. I struggled to hold onto him. “Grandma, I’m about to...”

  He was sitting at a long cafeteria table in a gymnasium eating chicken and noodles off of a paper plate, looking a little cleaner than he did now. His chin-length gray hair was combed back out of his face and he had different clothes on, jeans and a white Blazers t-shirt. Another man came up behind him, staggering and dragging his left foot.

  “Hey. David. You gonna pretend you don’t know me?” the man said.

  David turned away from his food, terror in his eyes, and looked back. The other man jammed a pocket knife into his neck. Blood poured down David’s chest, soaking his shirt.

  I snapped back. David lay on the ground against the wall, his knees tucked up to his chest. Grandma took her cell phone out and held it up. “Do I need to call Hazel and Melody?”

  Why does everyone have a cell phone but me? “Yeah,” I said. “Do you have a camera on that thing? You might want to get a picture of him.”

  Grandma aimed her phone at David. He stretched his legs out straight and rolled over, facing the wall. She tiptoed past him and hooked her arm with mine, pulling me out to the street.

  I looked back. “Shouldn’t we warn him or something?”

  She shook her head. “It’s against The Society’s rules I’m afraid. We can prevent, but not warn. It helps us keep a low profile.” She took my hand, closed her eyes and saw the David vision. “Stabbing. Those are always so bloody. Let’s get back to the apartment.” She led me ba
ck to the MAX.

  Waiting, Grandma called Aunt Hazel.

  “Zellie’s had a vision,” she said, muted. “We’re getting on the MAX now. We’ll be home in twenty minutes. Wake the other girls up if you haven’t already.”

  When we arrived at the apartment, there was a dry erase board set up in the family room. Melody jumped up from the couch, taking the cap off of the blue marker in her hand. “Tell me every detail. I’ve totally got this.”

  I walked past her to the bathroom. “Hold on, I’m sweating to death.” I dug around in one of Melody’s suitcases. “Can I wear your green tank top?” I called to her, ripping the pullover off and putting the tank top on before she could answer.

  “I guess. Hurry up!”

  I came back into the room. “Okay. Details...” I paced, while Melody wrote. Aunt Hazel, Grandma, and Claire all sat on the couch, observing. I felt like Mel and I were teaching a seminar in freakanomics. “His name is David. He’s homeless. He’s got gray hair. Skinny. In the vision he was wearing light blue jeans and a white Blazers t-shirt. Grandma’s got a picture on her cell.”

  Melody looked at me. “Grandma’s got a cell phone? Seriously?” She glanced at the phone Grandma held up. “What else, Zellie?”

  I ran my fingers through my hair. “Let’s see. He was in a gymnasium, but it was set up like a soup line or a shelter. Eating chicken and noodles I think? I didn’t focus on getting a good look at the other guy, the one who stabbed him. Did you, Grandma?”

  She closed her eyes. “Short. Wearing a baseball cap, pulled down. Mariners colors. Black polo shirt. He’s white. That’s all I can see.”

  “What else do we need to know, Aunt Hazel?” Melody asked.

  “Those are some really good details. What do you think should be our next step, Melody?”

  She scanned the dry erase board. “The next thing I would do is call local aid organizations and find out if they serve their meals in a gym. That right there makes me think it’s a church school thing, like St. Mary’s in Rosedell.

  “Then I need to narrow the list down further to places with a preplanned menu and find out what day they’re serving what David was eating.” She chewed her bottom lip, contemplating the board again. “I’m assuming it’s local because they’re probably both homeless and...I’m thinking it’s all going to go down soon because they’re dressed for warm weather.”

  “Crackerjack!” Aunt Hazel said, “Let’s you and I get started calling places.” She took the phone book from the drawer in the telephone table and handed Melody the cordless phone.

  Claire got up from the couch, mouthing “crackerjack?” to me. What can I say; Aunt Hazel was a little weird.

  “I’m going to step outside and call my parents,” Claire said, “I’ll be right back.”

  I turned to Grandma. “What do we do now?” I rocked back and forth on the balls of my feet, hyperactive as all get out.

  “We let our Lookouts do their job.” She got up and came to me, putting her arm around my shoulders. “You’re doing great. I wish we would’ve been able to practice rewinding, but this is where we’re needed, I guess. Are you up for trying to get a glimpse of the future?”

  My stomach spoke up.

  Grandma smiled, “After breakfast then? We never did eat those bagels I brought with me this morning.” She picked her purse up from the couch and extracted a brown paper sack.

  “Mm, purse bagels,” I said, holding out my hands.

  Avery stared at his bedroom ceiling listening to the phone ring, hoping Mrs. Wells would answer it. When she hadn’t picked up after the sixth ring, he grabbed the phone and hit TALK. “Hello?”

  “Hey Avery, its Claire, how’s it goin’?”

  He looked at the clock on his bedside table. 8:30. She was awfully damn chipper for this early in the morning on summer vacation. “Fine, what’s up?”

  “Well, I know that you didn’t want Zellie to tell you what she found out, but...there are a lot of things you need to know, man.”

  “Like what?” He snorted, trying to sound like his stomach hadn’t dropped at the mention of Zellie’s name. “Are any of these things going to bring my dad back or make my mom less crazy?”

  “Maybe,” she said quickly. “I mean...Mrs. Wells? Okay, don’t spaz, but she can communicate with your dad’s spirit.”

  Sure she could. The only thing Mrs. Wells was capable of communicating with at this juncture was a box of Kleenex. “What the hell are you talking about, Claire?”

  “She doesn’t know that she can do it, but she can. You need to tell her to focus, to concentrate. That seems to be the key with all of the abilities.”

  “Yeah, I’m going back to bed now.” He should’ve known better than to answer the phone in the first place, she was dredging up feelings he wasn’t ready to deal with.

  “No! Avery, wait!” she yelled.

  “What? Get to the point or I’m hanging up.”

  “All right, all right!” She paused as if trying to decide what to tell him. “The most important thing I’ve learned is that Zellie didn’t do anything to your dad.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. There is absolutely no way she can harm people with her powers. What she can do, what she did do that day was heal us and save our lives. She’s freaking amazing, you idiot.”

  For some reason, his heart leapt. He supposed he could hear the rest of what Claire had to say. “What else?”

  “Yay! You believe!” she squealed.

  “I wouldn’t go that far. Just tell me what else you’ve learned.”

  “So many, many things,” she teased. “Dude, your virginity for one.”

  “My virginity?” Avery asked, an image of Zellie topless, leaning over him smiling, the street light making her hair glow like burning embers, popped into his head.

  “Uh huh. I knew you’d wanna know about that one. It seems you’re the one to blame for triggering Zellie’s visions.”

  “Oh, how is that?” He kicked the covers off his feet. He was sweating despite the air conditioning vent right above his bed.

  “The visions are triggered by your one true love, the person you’re meant to be with forever. And you, Avery, are Zellie’s trigger.” She sighed dramatically.

  “Okay, but what does that have to do with my virginity?”

  “Duh,” Claire huffed, “it means you two are definitely going to do it, it’s predestined.”

  Avery surprised himself and laughed. “Let me see if I understand what you’re saying. Mrs. Wells can talk to my dad who Zellie didn’t kill and I’m the idiot virgin that started this whole thing in the first place.”

  “Yup.” Claire swore. “Someone’s coming. I’ll call you back when I can.”

  Avery set the phone in its cradle and tried to resume staring at the ceiling, but all he could see was Zellie. Her green eyes, her soft skin, the way she looked at him when he was about to kiss her, they way she’d looked at him when he’d called her a stupid freak. Damn. He felt his body hum with the electricity she caused every time he touched her. Damn. He was an idiot.

  I walked out onto the porch and sat down next to Claire. “Purse bagel?” I handed her half a blueberry bagel with cream cheese.

  She took it. “Don’t mind if I do.”

  “How’re your parents?”

  “Fine. Busy.” She tore off a chunk of bagel with her teeth.

  “Grandma’s going to teach me to see the future next. Wanna watch your best freak forever get trance-y?”

  Claire frowned at me. “I wish you’d stop calling yourself a freak. He’s going to feel so bad when--”

  “He’s not going to feel anything because he never wants to talk to me again.” I stood up. “Come back inside if you want.”

  Upstairs, Aunt Hazel and Melody had already cracked the case.

  “Friday, two days from now, they serve chicken and noodles at the First Unitarian Church in Southwest, from one to five.” Melody folded her arms across her chest. “I’m totally good at t
his.”

  I hugged her. “Yes, you are. You rock.” I turned to Grandma. “So, Friday, you think I can figure out how to rewind by then?”

  “Definitely, we’ll have to try a few more good alleys I know of.” She grinned.

  “My only choice is drunk people? Really? Can’t I rewind Melody?”

  Claire came into the room shutting the front door behind her. “You can practice on me if you want.”

  I didn’t know if that was such a good idea. I was getting weird vibes from my BFF. “Are you sure? Is it safe, Grandma?” I said.

  “Hey! What about my safety?” Melody slapped my shoulder.

  “What? I was kinda kidding when I said I would practice on you. I didn’t know that you guys were actually an option.”

  “It won’t hurt...although it’s not customary to practice on people we know.” Grandma shrugged. “You can give it a try.” She came over to stand next to me. “Claire, why don’t you...take your shoes off and we’ll see if Zellie can put them back on.”

  Claire sat down on the couch. With exaggerated movement she slipped her silver ballet flats from her feet and put them on the floor.

  I put my hand out, fingers spread. I felt like a total dork. I stared at her forehead, burrowing my thoughts into her brain. Reach out. Pick them up. I focused. Claire leaned forward, picked up the shoes. She crossed her right ankle over her left knee. I was totally good at this! Claire slid one shoe on. Slid one shoe on. Slid one shoe on.

  “I think you’ve got her on repeat,” Melody said.

  I dropped my hand down. “Ugh. I suck!”

  Claire came to. She looked at her feet. “Didn’t work, huh? Try again. It’s like being on laughing gas at the dentist, no biggie.” She took both of her shoes off again and placed them next to her on the couch.

  “I want to try something.” I’d been thinking a lot about The Rewind while I was falling asleep the night before. It wasn’t my favorite thing to think about, but if this ability was going to help anyone, I needed to pull out all the stops. I stood in front of Claire. “I maybe have a theory.” I put my arm out, aimed it. “Now, talk to me about Avery. I think I need to be emotional to rewind.”

 

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