Lunatic Revenge

by Sharon Sala

  Tara started walking and Nate followed.

  “I don’t understand. When did you—”

  “There’s a body trapped beneath a roof. The man’s spirit is still there, waiting to be found. He won’t cross over. He knows I saw him. I told him I’d be back.”

  Nate was speechless. “I never thought—” Then he began looking around. “Are their others? I mean—”

  Once Tara was no longer focusing on Gracie there were voices coming at her from every direction.

  “All I can handle is one at a time.”

  “I won’t leave you,” Nate said, and then couldn’t bring himself to look at her. The devastation in her voice was enough for him to know what this was doing to her, and he was right.

  Tara was shutting down her emotions. She already knew it was the only way she’d be able to get through this. Millicent was absent, and Tara hadn’t seen Henry at all. The energy of what had happened here still lingered to the point that it was beginning to feel like she was walking in mud. Her legs felt heavier with every step. It was good she wouldn’t be doing this alone.

  She started walking, following the pull of earth-bound spirits and walked until she saw the roof lying upside down and the spirit beside it.

  When he saw her, the relief on his face was evident.

  You came back.

  Tara nodded. “I told you I would. I’ll tell them where you are.”

  My name is Tom Lewis.

  “Tom Lewis. I’ll tell them,” Tara said.

  The light. It’s for me, isn’t it?

  Tara nodded. “You can go now. I won’t leave until they find you.”

  And just like that, the spirit was gone, absorbed within the flash of light that she’d glimpsed.

  Tara pulled out her cell phone and turned to Nate.

  “Do you know the name of this street?”

  He looked around for a street sign, but they were either bent to the ground or completely missing. Finally, he noticed a daycare sign on the opposite corner.

  “No, but we’re on the same street and just a little west of where the Little Toddler Day Care used to be.”

  Tara called the police but kept getting a busy signal. That left her with no other option than to call her uncle again. He answered quickly.

  “Hi honey. Did you find the girl?”

  “Yes, but now I need your help for something else. Is there a rescue crew anywhere close to the north side of Stillwater where the Little Toddler Day Care used to be?”

  “Hang on, honey. I’ll find out.”

  Tara looked back at Nate. “He went to ask.”

  Nate kept staring at the roof and the debris. “I don’t see the body anywhere.”

  “He’s under the roof,” Tara said, and pulled her raincoat a little closer up under her chin.

  He shuddered and looked away.

  “Tara, are you still there?” Pat asked.

  “I’m here, Uncle Pat.”

  “There’s a crew heading your way right now. It’ll be a few minutes, no longer, okay?”

  “Yes, thank you. I have to go.”

  She dropped the phone back in her pocket and turned her back to the wind. “Help is on the way,” she said, then turned and looked across the street.

  “What is it?” Nate asked.

  “Another voice. Watch for the crew, will you? I’ll be right back.”

  Before he could stop her, Tara was running across the street. Someone was trapped, but she wasn’t sure where. Then the moment she touched the debris, in her mind she saw a face—and felt a heartbeat. This one was alive.

  “Nate!”

  He heard her and came running. “What’s wrong?”

  “A woman is trapped in here and she’s alive. Help me look.”

  He stopped her. “No, you’re gonna get yourself hurt. Look. There comes the search crew. We’ll tell them, okay?”

  A truck pulled up on the street. The driver, a man named Joe, hit the brakes as the crew in the back jumped out.

  Tara ran to meet them and pointed to the upturned roof. “There’s a body underneath that roof. The man’s name was Tom Lewis. But there’s a woman trapped across the street who is still alive. We need to hurry. She’s in shock.”

  “Where is she?” Joe asked, as they moved toward the wreckage.

  “I’m not sure. I just know she’s here.”

  Joe stopped. “Look, kid, this is serious business. We don’t have time for jokes.”

  Tara felt sick. “I’m not joking, please. You have to believe me.”

  Then one of the men from the crew stepped forward. “Hey, I know you. You’re Tara Luna, aren’t you?”

  Tara nodded.

  “I helped dig up that body in your back yard. I get where you’re coming from, kid. Just point the way. We’ll do the rest.”

  “What are you talking about?” Joe asked.

  “Trust me. She’s the real deal,” the man said. “So we need to start looking. If she says someone is alive in this mess, then it’s true.”

  They began moving through the debris, looking under collapsed walls, behind an overturned vehicle, everywhere there was a place to look, and then all of a sudden someone shouted.

  “I’ve got her! She’s in a bathtub underneath this wall and mattress.”

  Tara backed off. She was done here.

  Nate put a hand on her arm. “Can I please take you home now?”

  Tara shook her head and walked away, already locked onto a faint cry for help that only she could hear.

  Hours had passed since Tara had found Gracie Littlehorse. The search crew her uncle was with caught up with her before noon and was now following her as she marked locations where bodies would be found and radioing in for help when more than manpower was needed to get to trapped victims. No one questioned the reason they were following the directions of a kid any longer. She’d made a believer out of all of them after the third hit.

  They had just pulled a teenager and his little sister from a closet where they’d been trapped when Nate turned to look for Tara and saw her sitting on the curb.

  “Tara?”

  She didn’t answer him, and when he touched her shoulder, she shuddered and moaned.

  “That does it,” he muttered. “You’re going home. I gotta find your uncle.”

  Tara didn’t hear him. She was tired—so tired, and the voices were all too loud for her to block any longer.

  A passing police car came to an abrupt stop beside her and Detective Allen jumped out.

  “Hey kid, are you alright?” he asked, looking around for her uncle when she didn’t answer. When he saw them coming, he waited.

  “Is she hurt? Do I need to call an ambulance? What happened here?” he asked.

  “She’s been helping locate victims for the past seven hours and she’s hit a wall. We need to get her out of here now,” Nate said.

  “I’ll take her home,” Allen said.

  “Can you drop me off at the City Barn on your way?” Pat asked. “That’s where my car is parked.”

  “Hop in,” Allen said.

  But Tara wasn’t hopping. In fact, she was past walking. When Pat started to help her up, her legs went out from under her. It was Nate who carried her to the police car, and it was Nate who quietly watched them drive away.

  Chapter Five

  Detective Allen pulled up in Tara’s drive.

  “We’re here, kid. Just hang on. Your uncle is right behind us.”

  Tara blinked. She was home. She stared at Detective Allen without a single memory of how she’d come to be in this car, which was weird. The last thing she remembered was the rescue team finding that teenager and his little sister in a closet, hearing the boy asking if they’d found his mom and dad, and knowing their parents were alive and already in the hospital. She had tried to find the words to say it, but the ability to communicate with the living was momentarily gone.

  Allen repeated himself. “Your uncle is on the way.”

  That’s when she realize
d she needed to get out of the car.

  “I have a key,” she mumbled, opened the door and was out and stumbling up on the porch before he could help.

  “Dang hard-headed kid,” Allen muttered. After his last visit here when her ghost had gotten all mad at him and Rutherford, he was afraid to go into the house with her. But his conscience wouldn’t let him drive off, so he waited until Pat Carmichael got home before he left.

  Inside, Tara was bent on only one thing. She stripped off her filthy clothes and then stood naked in her room, shaking with exhaustion as she dug through her jewelry box for her necklace with the St. Benedict’s medal. Her fingers were trembling as she put it on, and then stumbled across the hall into the bathroom. When she realized the power was back on, she was just grateful the water would be warm.

  She sat down on the side of the old claw-footed tub and began running a bath then crawled into the depths, clutching the medal. The voices were growing dimmer as she leaned back and closed her eyes.

  Suddenly she heard footsteps running down the hall and then Uncle Pat calling her name. “Tara! Tara! Where are you?”

  “I’m in the tub, Uncle Pat.”

  “Are you okay?”

  Tara clutched the medal tighter. “I will be.”

  “I’m going to make us some soup. You need to eat something.”

  The thought of food made her nauseous, but she knew he was right.

  “I’ll eat later, okay?”

  “Yeah, I guess. But you call me if you need anything. You hear?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m gonna go make that soup now.”

  The sound of his footsteps faded as he walked away.

  The water was only inches from the rim of the tub when Tara finally turned it off, then she leaned back and closed her eyes, again willing herself to a calm place.

  All of a sudden, the box of bubble bath salts elevated then tilted. Tara opened her eyes just as a liberal dose of the little pink beads poured into the water.

  We came as quick as we could. I always did love a good bubble bath.

  Henry popped up at the foot of the tub, waved and then turned his back and sat down on the toilet facing the wall to give her privacy.

  Tara rolled her eyes. One ghost on her toilet and the other adding bubbles to her bath—yes, her life was crazy. No wonder the kids called her lunatic.

  “What happened to you guys?” Tara asked, and realized her voice was shaking.

  We tried to get here, but your storm created a vortex. Henry wound up in Fourteenth Century Persia and caused a ruckus in a harem. I was aiming for here and landed in the Middle Ages. Such a disaster, and I have quite an aversion to that period in time. I was burned at the stake then for being a witch. I am ashamed to admit I still hold a grudge.

  Tara watched as the water began to churn. Millicent was making bubbles in her bath like she used to when Tara was little. She glanced at Henry, who was blowing her kisses over his shoulder. And just like that, her life centered.

  “I missed you both. It was awful here.”

  We know. We saw. You were very brave to help as you did.

  “I didn’t feel brave. In fact, I don’t feel much of anything right now except numb.”

  That will pass. You’ll know when it’s all better.

  “How will I know?” Tara asked.

  Why, you’ll cry of course. That’s what we women do best.

  “Flynn is at his father’s funeral. Have you seen Michael O’Mara? On the other side, I mean?”

  I don’t think he’s crossed.

  Tara gasped, and sat up in the tub, sloshing some of the water and bubbles into the floor. “Why not?”

  Something has been left undone.

  “Oh lord. Is there a way I can talk to him? It’s about that missing money.”

  I don’t know. It may not be your problem to solve.

  “But how can Flynn—”

  Like I said, it may not be your problem to solve.

  “Even though I’m in the middle of the problem?”

  I don’t know. I don’t like how this feels. You need to keep your distance.

  Tara flipped bubbles at the sound of her voice. “Flynn’s my boyfriend. I’m not keeping my distance from him.”

  Your uncle is coming. Later, lizard.

  Tara rolled her eyes. “It’s not, later lizard. It’s later gator.”

  They’re both reptiles. I fail to see the difference.

  “You rock, Millicent. And you do, too, Henry.”

  Henry bounced up against the ceiling and then disappeared in increments, beginning head first. Millicent left, too, but with what sounded like a fart, and not her usual “pop,” which meant they were both still suffering after-effects of the atmospheric storm.

  Tara woke the next morning to sunshine coming through her bedroom window and no memory of eating her supper or going to bed. She rolled over, glanced at the clock and then gasped. It was after 9:00 a.m. She was so seriously late for school.

  Then she noticed her bedroom door was open and that there was a note taped to the door.

  No school for the rest of the week. Stay away from the storm site. You did enough yesterday. It’s not your job to rescue the world.

  She sighed with relief, thankful she wasn’t going to be late and facing Mrs. Crabtree again. Twice in one week would be a disaster. And Uncle Pat didn’t need to tell her she needed to stay away from the area where all the houses had been hit. Yesterday had been the worst.

  She went to the bathroom to wash her face and brush her hair then changed into a warm pair of sweats and some fuzzy socks. She turned up the thermostat as she went to the kitchen and found another note from Uncle Pat.

  Had to throw out some of the food. Car keys and money are on the coffee table in the living room. I caught a ride to work so you can use the car to get groceries. Be very careful driving. Still lots of debris around. I was very proud of you yesterday.

  Love, Uncle Pat

  Tara smiled and then saw a pink puff of smoke.

  Henry wants to go to the Sonic Drive-in for a breakfast burrito.

  Millicent was already trying to arrange Tara’s day.

  “Seriously Millicent, I don’t even see Henry,” Tara muttered. “You just want to go look at that cute guy who works carhop on the morning shift.”

  Then she turned around and saw Henry sitting on top of the refrigerator.

  He waved, and then rubbed his tummy to tell her she needed to eat.

  “You seriously want to go to the Sonic, Henry?”

  He shook his head and pointed at her.

  See, he wants to eat.

  “He wants me to eat. He said nothing about himself,” Tara said.

  I remember food. I am certain I would have liked that breakfast burrito, had I ever had the opportunity to taste one.

  “I need to make a grocery list and get my shoes.”

  We have eternity. Take your time.

  “Right,” Tara said, and then laughed.

  It felt good to laugh. There had been moments yesterday when she wasn’t sure that would ever happen again.

  A short while later, she was on her way to grocery shop by way of the Sonic. Her phone rang just as she finished giving her order. She answered without looking at Caller ID, thinking it would be Uncle Pat.

  “Yes, I’m up and on my way to get groceries.”

  Nikki giggled. “It’s me.”

  “Oh. Hi. I thought you were Uncle Pat.”

  “I figured. Hey . . . we saw you on TV this morning.”

  The hair rose on the back of Tara’s neck. “You what?”

  “We saw you . . . up in that tree with that baby in your arms. OMG, Tara, that was amazing. You had us all bawling our eyes out here. You are a serious hero.”

  “That was on TV?”

  “Yes, and a half-dozen other shots of you with search crews and everything. Are you okay? You looked exhausted.”

  Tara’s mind was racing. “What did they say about me?”
<
br />   “That you knew how to find people because you were psychic.”

  Tara’s heart stopped. “You are kidding me. Please tell me they didn’t broadcast that.”

  “What? It’s wonderful that you can do that and—”

  Tara tuned her out. She was in panic mode, already imagining the far-reaching implications of what this could mean, and none of it was good.

  “Uh . . . hey, my order is here. I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

  “Yeah, sure. Call me when you get time. Come over if you want. We’re just hanging out today.”

  “Yeah, I’ll call you later.”

  She dropped the phone in the seat.

  The cute guy with your food is here. His name is Andy. Tell him I said hello.

  Tara looked up. The carhop was waiting for her to roll down her window.

  “Oh, sorry,” she said, and dug out her money. “Keep the change.”

  The guy grinned. “Thanks.”

  Henry appeared on the seat beside Tara, watching her open the sack with serious intent.

  You didn’t give him my message, but it is okay. He’s cute, but he doesn’t have aspirations of furthering his education. What a shame.

  Tara sighed. Crazy. Her entire life was lunatic crazy.

  Did you get the hot sauce? Henry likes the hot sauce.

  “OMG people! I’m not putting hot sauce on this just so Henry can watch. I’m the one who has to eat this and I don’t do hot.”

  Pity. I once—

  “Millicent. No. Please. I’m freaking out here right now. The whole world knows I’m psychic now.”

  Take a bite. You’ll feel much better.

  Tara stared at the burrito and then peeled the paper back and took a bite.

  “I’m chewing, and so far it hasn’t done a thing to reassure me that it is okay about my life going to hell.”

  Henry filched the packet of hot sauce and promptly squeezed it out on a napkin then leaned over, as if trying to smell it, which was silly because once someone becomes a spirit, there is no longer a need to eat or drink.

  See, I told you Henry loves hot sauce.

  Tara rolled her eyes and then took another bite. It was weird, but in a way, Millicent had been right. The food made her empty stomach feel better even though she still didn’t know how to prepare for what lay ahead.