by Ian Rogers
Waldo stood up and led me into the kitchen.
“May I call you Tobias?”
I nodded.
“Tobias, your sister is . . .”
“Please don’t say special.”
“I was going to say dangerous.”
“That’s awfully . . . frank.”
Waldo frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t know any other way to be.”
“It’s okay,” I told him. “It’s just unexpected. I’ve become sort of used to—”
“Covering up for your sister?” Waldo finished. “Making excuses for her? We know, Tobias. We know all about it.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Soelle is having an adverse effect on reality. She’s out of phase. She’s not supposed to be here. I’m sure you’ve noticed some unusual phenomena while in her presence. People and animals acting strangely, unusual weather, apports . . .”
“Apports?”
“Objects that appear seemingly out of thin air.”
“What kinds of objects?”
Waldo gestured vaguely.
“Like playing cards?” I suggested.
“Sure,” Waldo said. “Small objects usually.”
“Soelle’s been finding playing cards—aces, specifically—around town. She’s become intent on finding them.”
“Aces?” Leah said, coming up behind us.
“Yes,” I said. “She found one under a bridge. Another in a tree—a tree that she was levitating over at the time.”
“Levitation.” Leah’s gaze drifted away for a moment, then came back in force, boring into me. “Has she found them all?”
“No. She’s found three of them so far.”
Leah turned to Waldo and said, “We need to move quickly.”
Waldo cleared his throat and turned to face me.
“Tobias, we have a man in our employ. A psychic. He has the ability to the see future in his dreams. He lives in one of our most remote stations, in Lhasa. That’s in Tibet. The Roof of the World, they call it. We have him there because the high elevation causes people to dream in extremely vivid detail. It makes his ability that much more potent.”
“What does this have to do with Soelle?”
“This man,” Waldo said, “he’s been dreaming of her. In those dreams, Soelle destroys the planet.”
“She’s not supposed to be here,” Leah muttered.
“Where is she supposed to be?” I said. “Tibet?”
Waldo shook his head. “It’s not important. All you need to know is that she can’t stay here.” He reached out and gave my shoulder a firm but comforting squeeze.
“Tobias, your sister needs to come with us.”
* * *
Soelle didn’t put up a fight. In fact, she wanted to go.
“I have to widen my search,” she said. “You understand.”
“Sure,” I said. You could have filled a barn with all the things I didn’t understand at this point.
I offered to help pack her stuff, but Leah said it wasn’t necessary.
“We’ll get her new clothes,” she assured me. “We’ll take care of her.”
Waldo shook my hand and thanked me. I didn’t know for what, but I said “You’re welcome” anyway. Then they stepped outside to let me say good-bye to Soelle.
“Take care of the Haxanpaxan for me,” she said.
“He’s not going with you?”
“Leah says there’s only room for me.”
“Too bad.”
“Yeah, but at least neither of you will be lonely.”
I nodded. “Be good, Soelle.”
She gave me her NutraSweet grin. “I’ll try.” Then she did something she hadn’t done since she was little: she kissed me on the cheek.
Then she was gone.
I watched the van drive away. The plus sign on the side was gone. In its place were three wavy lines. I didn’t know what that meant.
One more thing to add to the list.
* * *
After a while I went upstairs. As I was passing Soelle’s room, the door slammed shut. I tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge.
The door still doesn’t open, and I haven’t been in her room since.
* * *
No one ever questioned Soelle’s disappearance. I never called the police, and no one ever came around asking about her. I think it was more than just the town being glad she was gone. Maybe she really didn’t belong here.
I heard from her only once. I got a letter. It was postmarked from a town in Mexico, some place I couldn’t even pronounce. It contained two items. One was a colour photograph of a Mayan pyramid. On the back she had written: I found it, Toby. It was here all along.
The other item was a playing card.
The ace of diamonds.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ian Rogers is a writer, artist, and photographer. His short fiction has appeared in several publications, including Cemetery Dance, Supernatural Tales, and Shadows & Tall Trees. He is the author of SuperNOIRtural Tales (Burning Effigy Press), a series of stories featuring supernatural detective Felix Renn. Ian lives with his wife in Peterborough, Ontario. For more information, visit ianrogers.ca.
