“Birdie, it’s fine. It’s none of my business what you do.”
“It’s absolutely your business. I want it to be your business. You–”
“Hey, what kind of pizza did you get?” I asked, jumping up off the sofa.
“Pepperoni and ham and pineapple,” he said, confused by the switch in topic.
“Awesome. I’m starving,” I replied, lying. I hurried over to where the pizzas were still being guarded by Daisy. Her tail started thumping wildly. “No pizza for you, little weasel.” I patted her head.
Birdie’s talk of Katie had made me lose my appetite. Yet I wasn’t sure why it bothered me. She wasn’t the first to attempt ensnaring Birdie. Photography students were a dime a dozen around here. Any number of them had already begged Birdie to let them take photos of the band.
“It’s no big deal, Poe.”
“Hey, where are your paper towels?” I asked, ignoring his last remark.
“There’s a new roll under the sink,” he said, sighing before joining me in the kitchen.
“Here.” He bent down and retrieved the new roll of paper towels from the kitchen cupboard. He threw the wet towel on the back of a plastic chair and proceeded to open the roll.
“Thanks.”
“Sure,” replied Birdie.
And that was the end of the discussion. For the next two hours, we sat together on the sofa, stuffing our faces full of pizza—well, Birdie did, anyway—and watched a horrible movie about flesh-eating zombies in space. It was laughably bad. Normally, I was grossed out by these things, but I couldn’t help but snort out loud as a zombie ripped some guy’s arm off and then proceeded to beat the guy over the head with it. It was absurd.
As the credits rolled, I fed a leftover crust to Daisy, who happily wolfed it down in one bite. She stared at me in the vain hope that she’d get more, but I ignored her and faced Birdie.
“I need your help,” I stated simply.
“Okay, what with?” he asked, intrigued.
I could’ve just said, “Well, you know Adam. He glows in the dark.” Birdie, of all people, would have believed me. He wouldn’t call me insane or crazy. He would take the matter seriously, as if I’d said we’d been infiltrated by Russians spies. But I couldn’t do it.
So I lied again instead.
“Well, I was watching this program on TV the other night about these people with, I guess, weird powers and fell asleep before I got to the end of it and I wanted to know what kind of people could do these type of things,” I mumbled before wondering why I was such a terrible liar.
“Like vampires?” he asked, seriousness written all over his face.
I cringed.
“Um, not quite like that. Not drinking blood. More like superhuman stuff like being superfast, super powerful—you know.” I rushed through the last couple of words.
“Well, that sounds like vampires.” Birdie shoved the last bite of his pizza into his mouth before chewing it.
“Yeah, I know, but this wasn’t about vampires,” I replied, wondering how I was going to get anywhere with this conversation.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yes, Birdie, I’m sure,” I replied, exasperated.
“All right, no blood sucking. If you’re talking about people who think they can do those things, there was this secret government thing called Project MKULTRA in the sixties. Basically, the army drugged people with LSD to see if they could control their minds.”
I shook my head. “No, I mean actually able to do things like run fast or heal quickly. Maybe even glow.” I couldn’t believe I was actually having this conversation.
“Are you sure you’re talking about a human being?” He looked at me expectantly.
I swallowed hard, wondering why all of a sudden I felt squeamish.
“Well, he looks, I mean, looked human on the television,” I said, scrambling for the words to get me out of this mess.
“Just because something looks human doesn’t mean it is. All sorts of animals can mimic other things—so well, they often go unnoticed.”
“When you say ‘they,’ you mean…”
“The animals.”
“Oh, okay. For a minute there–”
“But that’s only an example. To mimic a human would be quite a feat unless the thing was already humanoid.” Birdie was on a roll now. “If we’re talking an alien, its technology could be further advanced than ours, and it could be easy for it to create a cloaking device.”
“Are you kidding me?” I asked, trying not to judge him. It sounded like lunacy, yet I was the one who was asking the questions.
Ignoring my comment, Birdie got up from the couch and grabbed a couple of books from one of the bookcases. He sat back down on the couch next to me and opened up the first one.
“It’s not uncommon for extraterrestrials to glow, either. There have been several accounts across the country about people being abducted by luminescent aliens.”
For the next two hours, Birdie pored over book after book and kept coming back to the same conclusion. What I had described was an alien. Radiation exposure? No. Untested super-steroids? Hardly. A new strain of pharmaceutical that was a cure-all? Why, when the drug companies made money off of people being sick? But every time he insisted on the alien explanation, I shot him down. Adam was odd at the best of times, but not creature-from-outer-space odd.
By midnight, I’d had enough of Birdie’s postulating. My back ached from sitting awkwardly hunched over his shoulder, I had a headache, and to top it all off, I had to work the lunch shift the next day. Going in to work with no sleep wasn’t a good idea, given my last grilling from Stevie. I needed to get back on my A game, back into a routine. Plus, I actually missed my old, predictable life.
Birdie rubbed his forehead and sighed. “Okay. Do you remember what channel you were watching?” he asked with obvious exasperation. “I mean, were you watching one of those Bible Belt channels? You know. Jesus and angels and all that. Was it a guy performing some sort of crazy miracle?” As I watched him get up to get another book down, my back broke out in a cold sweat. Why did I suddenly feel unwell?
“I’m not sure.” I swallowed. “Did you say ‘angels’?”
Birdie waved his hand through the air like what he had said was no big deal. “Yeah, you know, the winged variety. I’m not a big fan myself, but the new agers believe big time. Maybe what you were seeing on TV was some sort of angel, although why’d you wanna watch one of those programs is beyond me.” He snorted.
Yeah, I definitely wasn’t feeling well. With a lame excuse, I packed up the few books Birdie had been eager for me to take home and gave him a quick hug, thanking him again for the pizza. He gave me a quick hug back and walked me to the door, all the while talking about his latest conspiracy topic. I had zoned out on him an hour ago. My brain couldn’t take any more.
Giving him one more quick squeeze, I opened the door and walked out into the darkness with Daisy. Lost in my thoughts, I was just about to open the passenger door of my car when Daisy growled.
Her fur stood erect on her back as she took an offensive position in front of me, her low guttural rumble stopping me dead in my tracks. My heart raced inside my chest and it felt like my pupils had dilated to three times their size as I stared at my car in the watery light from the lone streetlamp a block away. Something wasn’t right. I would have felt it even if Daisy hadn’t emitted her warning growl. It was too quiet.
“Shhh.” I patted her side for comfort—whether hers or mine, I wasn’t sure. I thought about turning around and fleeing back to the security of Birdie’s apartment, but the lights were already off. Birdie had gone to bed. It would be simple enough to stride back up to the front door and use my key, but I felt foolish. Plus, surely no one would attack me when I had a dog with me. Daisy was no pit bull, but she was loyal and protective. That would be two of us against one attacker, as far as I was concerned. Unless it was a gang. My heart spe
d up faster as I thought about the night in the alleyway.
I shook my head, trying to dismiss my fear. It wouldn’t do to panic right now, and I needed to stay level-headed. I walked quietly toward the door of the car with Daisy flanking my side and peeked inside to ensure someone wasn’t hiding there. It was empty. Next, I looked under the car to make sure there was no one lurking there either. It was clear. No one waiting to grab my ankles or knife me. Daisy still stood alert beside me, but the rumbling from her chest had subsided. It seemed that whatever had set her off was gone. With a sigh of relief, I let her in the car, then walked around to the driver’s side and opened my door.
I tossed my bag into the passenger seat and placed Birdie’s books on top. Scooting into the driver’s seat, I shut my door and locked it as the engine roared to life. Backing out of the driveway, I couldn’t help but steal glances at Birdie’s books as they sat there quietly, a reminder of his earlier words. Was divine intervention possible? I shook my head—that was crazy talk. I drove home, my mood more solemn than before.
If I thought I was going to bed without thinking more about my conversation with Birdie, I was deluded. When I got home, I put Birdie’s books on the kitchen table with a promise to look at them first thing in the morning, but not a minute sooner. I took Daisy out one last time, brushed my teeth, changed into an old T-shirt, and headed to bed.
For the first five minutes, I tried to focus on what tomorrow would bring. A shower, a long, boring day at Paddy’s, and an early night with nothing planned. I thought about Adam and how he’d practically dropped off the face of planet since our last encounter. He hadn’t called or stopped by or even showed up at Paddy’s. It was like he was gone from my world, just a figment of my imagination. I even tried to focus on my plans to go out of town with Birdie and the band.
I tried not to think about God and angels.
I worked out in my head how much studio time I could get in this week after my shifts. Not a lot, but it was something. I wondered if I should switch from oil to acrylics, for a change. Maybe it was time to clean out the studio and repaint.
I tried really, really hard not to think about angels.
After another fifteen minutes of making to-do lists in my head, I couldn’t stand it any longer. No matter what sort of mental gymnastics I tried to put myself through, Birdie’s words kept appearing in my thoughts. Who was I kidding?
With a grunt, I threw back the covers, hobbled out of bed, and lurched toward the kitchen and the borrowed books. Without thinking twice, I grabbed them and ran back to the bedroom, diving for the bed and the covers. I reached for the headlamp dangling from the bedpost and put it on. The switch made a satisfying click as I snuggled back under the comforter and opened the first book to page one, the bluish light highlighting the text as I read, the words reiterating what Birdie had said but perhaps delving deeper than I’d first imagined. It really did seem like crazy talk. How could it be possible? I paused. The fact that I was willing to take Birdie’s suggestion seriously showed just how surreal my life had become in the last month.
I placed the next book in my lap and read through it just like the last one. I did the same with the next, only skimming this time. A picture was starting to form in my head, a picture that I wasn’t sure I wanted to accept. I could give the books back to Birdie and pretend that everything was okay. Life would go on in much the same way it had before. I didn’t need to pry further—things might stay predictable and safe.
But I didn’t believe it. Not for one minute.
No matter how hard I tried to appear normal, nothing was normal anymore. A waitress was dead, Amanda was pregnant, Adam had turned my world upside down, and I had kissed Birdie. Everything was all over the place. What I needed now were answers.
I tried to push the nagging anxiety to the back of my mind as I shut the last book and turned off the headlamp, removing it from my head. My head hurt, and my scalp itched from where the elastic band had dug into my skin. Still, I hardly felt it. With no sleep, I stumbled out of bed and walked to the mirror on the back of the bedroom door. I stood still, looking at my reflection, trying not to blink.
My skin looked pale against the blonde of my hair. My eyes resembled two gray sapphires coated in grime and dust—the dark smudges under my eyes were new, but not surprising after having been up all night. And my shoulders sagged, even though they felt knotted and ropey with tension.
With a grim determination, I got ready for work early and sat down with Birdie’s books again. Grabbing an old notebook from a shelf above the kitchen table, I started scribbling notes furiously, flipping back and forth between passages, taking only a quick break to make myself a cup of coffee and feed Daisy before once again sitting down, poring over the pages.
By the third skimming, a pattern started to emerge out of the text. What seemed incomprehensible started to take shape, edges forming, ideas concreting themselves into place—perhaps it wasn’t so crazy after all. I booted up Birdie’s old laptop and started to Google phrases and events, surprised that such information existed on the net. Not just on Wikipedia, but on educational sites and the like. And it all pointed back to things in his books. There was no such thing as coincidence.
Bolstered by this realization, I felt calmer, more in control. Knowledge might be a dangerous thing, but it was powerfully alluring. I knew now what I needed to do and what it would take to test out the new theory unfolding in my head.
I would have to take a leap of faith, and that was exactly what I intended to do.
***
I went through the motions of work like an efficient machine. Someone asked for something, I got it with a smile. Drink refills happened in the blink of an eye. Orders were out hot; no screwups. I was back in my stride, back as Poesy the Incredible Waitress, not the person who’d made the mistake of reading Birdie’s books. No, I was back to my familiar world—sticky tables, waxy napkins, and the smell of an overused fryolator. Even Stevie seemed happy with the return to my normal self. Little did he know.
“You seem better today,” he said as I stacked dirty plates onto my tray.
“Yeah, things seem clearer,” I answered cryptically, wiping off a table with a wet rag.
“Well, that’s good. Keep it up.” He patted my shoulder before heading back to the kitchen. Even Stevie didn’t see through me. It was a good start.
By three, the lunch crowd was gone and my shift was over. Not a moment too soon. Even though I felt more resolved, I was still tired, and the lack of sleep was starting to kick in. It wouldn’t do to be tired tonight. I needed my strength to go through with my plan.
I walked into the trailer and was greeted by an overzealous Daisy, whom I gave a quick hug before grabbing her leash and heading right back out the door. It was only a short walk to Adam’s, and Daisy would’ve preferred a much longer stroll, but this was where we needed to be. Pushing open Adam’s front gate, I led my dog up the walk before unhitching her leash. She scampered up the steps and wiggled around my legs while I knocked on the door. There was no sound from inside, so I walked around to the side of the house and saw that the Lotus was parked at the rear. He had to be at home and was choosing to ignore me.
Well, I hated being ignored.
I marched back up to the front door, this time using my foot to bang on the door. There was still no response. He wasn’t going to make this easy. With no alternative, I decided to start shouting at the top of my lungs.
“Adam! Open up!” I used my hands as a megaphone. Not even a curtain twitch. “Adam! I’m not leaving till you open this goddamn door!” I shouted louder while banging on the door with my shoe. I left a black rubber mark just above the doorsill. “Adam!” This time, Daisy joined in the ruckus, howling along with my shouts. That was the trick. The door swung open wide, and I almost kicked Adam in the shin.
“What do you want?” He was irritated.
I barged past him and walked into the living room, th
rowing myself onto a pristine white sofa. Daisy barked again for good measure before following me through the door.
“Well, come in, then,” he said with obvious annoyance before shutting the door.
“What? No ‘how are you, how have you been?’” I asked.
“You should not be here,” he said quietly.
“Why?”
“You know why. We cannot be friends.”
“I agree.”
He paused. “Really?” he asked with a guarded gaze.
“Yes, really, but you owe me one last drink before we go our own ways. It’s the least you can do.”
“I do not think it would be wise, Poesy.”
“One drink. How bad could it be?” I asked, feigning innocence. He still looked dubious. “Look. One drink and that’s it. We don’t have to see each other again after that.”
He hesitated. “Okay, one drink, but do not expect a repeat performance of the other night. It is out of the question.”
“I know.” I rose from the couch with Daisy’s leash before walking to the front door and turning toward him. “I’ll pick you up at eleven-thirty.”
“That is kind of late, is it not?”
“Just one drink,” I replied with a smile before walking out the front door and closing it behind me, leaving Adam inside.
One drink was all it would take.
8
By eleven, I was showered, dressed, and made up. Grabbing my leather jacket out of the closet, I walked out into the dark to my car. Although slightly nervous about my get-up, I had no doubt it would work perfectly tonight. I’d pulled out a black miniskirt I hadn’t worn since high school, but which seemed to just fit over my adult thighs. The glittery silver T-shirt was a loaner from Haylee. It was loose-fitting, not snug. The tall black stiletto knee-highs had been a risky purchase, and I wondered how I was going to walk in them as I tried to shift gears without getting the pointy heels stuck in the car’s carpet.
What would Adam make of my get-up? I didn’t have long to find out. I got out of the car as Adam locked his front door and walked down the steps toward me. He stopped, speechless.
Watcher (The Shining Ones Book 1) Page 11
