by J. S. Bailey
Bobby parked in the already-salted part of the driveway and watched the person with some trepidation. He should have called first; Ellen might not live here at all. What had he been thinking?
You’re fine, the Spirit said. Get out and talk.
The person bundled in the gray snowsuit paused with a fistful of salt clenched in a gloved hand. He or she was of less-than-average height and more than average girth, and Bobby couldn’t see enough of their face to tell if it was a man or woman.
Bobby got out of the car.
“Can I help you?” the person asked in a female voice. Definitely a woman, then.
“Um, hi. I was wondering, does Ellen Barkley live here?”
The woman’s eyes narrowed. “Who’s asking?”
“Bobby Roland.” Then he added, “I’m a friend of Father Preston James in Autumn Ridge.”
Her eyes lit up, then clouded. “Is he all right?”
“What? Oh, he’s fine. Could we talk inside?”
What could only be Ellen Barkley herself gazed toward the road and let out a sigh. She tossed down her remaining fistful of salt and set the bucket down off to the side of the driveway, then said, “Very well.”
ELLEN WAS kind enough to make Bobby a cup of coffee, which he sipped upon while sitting on the couch in the woman’s tidy living room. Somewhat to his surprise, a small Christmas tree sitting atop a bookshelf was decorated with blue and silver ornaments.
“So tell me, what has my old friend been up to?” Ellen asked. She sat in a chair across from him with her ankles crossed, looking a smidgen less rotund without the snowsuit. She had light brown hair cropped close to her head and round, rosy cheeks that made Bobby think she could pass for a middle-aged Mrs. Claus.
“He still works at St. Paul’s,” Bobby said. “He’s actually my boss.”
“You work at the church?”
Bobby nodded. “I vacuum floors and take out the trash.” And I drive out demons, but you probably wouldn’t believe that.
“Glamorous work, it seems.”
Ellen winked, and Bobby shrugged. “It’s a job.”
“Well, you’ll just have to tell Preston I said hello,” Ellen went on. “We were in the same class all through school. I think at one time he’d had aspirations of marrying me, but he’d never admit it if you asked him. So what brings you here today?”
Bobby swallowed, nervous again. He reminded himself that since he’d now met the woman, he could have a premonition about her demise at any moment. “I heard you were planning on speaking at the Interfaith Conference next Saturday.”
“That’s right, as long as the snow holds off for a bit. We’ve been talking about possibly rescheduling for January if it gets too bad out there—we’ll just have to wait and see.”
“Don’t go,” Bobby said.
Ellen blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I—I’ve heard a rumor. Someone’s planning on killing one of the speakers at the event. I have reason to believe you’re the target.”
Ellen’s face immediately darkened to red. “And just where did this ‘rumor’ originate?”
“A friend overheard a conversation about it in a bar.”
“Then why didn’t this friend go to the police?”
“He did. They didn’t think it was worth looking into.”
Bobby watched as the muscles in Ellen’s jaw clenched and unclenched. Finally she said, “If this is a joke, it’s in remarkably poor taste.”
“I get that, because it isn’t a joke. Do you know why anyone would want to do that to you?”
“I would assume it’s because I’m the only nonreligious person speaking at the conference.” Ellen pursed her lips. “It’s not like I’ll be there to bring down anyone’s beliefs. I’ll merely be there to present my own.”
“And what are your beliefs?”
“Does it matter to you what they are if your only purpose in being here is to scare me away from going?”
“I’m just curious. I hadn’t heard of humanism before.”
The woman let out a terse sigh. “I believe in doing what’s best for humanity. I encourage people to help one another. I do a lot of charity work throughout the year, helping in soup kitchens and raising money for the needy.”
“A lot of Christians do those things,” Bobby said.
“And a lot of them don’t.” Ellen’s lips twisted into a smirk. “You don’t need religion to be a good person.”
And you don’t need a lack of religion to be a bad one, Bobby thought, thinking of Graham. “I still don’t think you should go to the conference,” he said.
“Your threats aren’t going to scare me away from doing what’s right.”
“I’m not threatening you. I’m trying to save your life.”
“My life doesn’t need saving, Mr. Roland. It isn’t even in danger.”
Bobby ran his hands through his hair. How in the world could he convince the woman to steer clear of the conference? “Look,” he said. “I have this…ability. Whenever someone I’ve met is about to die, something forewarns me about it.”
“You’re a psychic.” A muscle twitched in Ellen’s cheek. She was probably contemplating calling the police to escort him out of her house for good. He’d never had anyone take out a restraining order against him before; having one now might throw a wrench into his rescue plans should things come to that.
“Sort of,” Bobby said, his face flushing. “So now that I’ve met you, I’ll know whenever you’re about to get hurt.”
At that moment, a man in jeans and a plaid shirt tromped into the living room from elsewhere in the house, blinking sleep from his eyes despite the lateness of the morning. “What’s going on?” he asked, looking from Ellen to Bobby. “Who are you?”
“Bobby is a friend of a friend,” Ellen said to the man, giving Bobby a warning look. “Bobby, this is Terence, my husband. He works third shift. I daresay our little conversation disturbed him.”
Terence waved a hand in dismissal. He sported dark circles under his eyes and a few days of stubble on his chin. “No, no, you’re fine. I couldn’t sleep well, anyway. Which friend are you a friend of?”
“Preston James,” Bobby said. “He’s my boss.”
“Ah, the priest,” Terence said with a dismayed expression. “It bothers me that he invited Ellen to speak at that conference. I’m afraid he’s going to mock her in front of all those people. I’ve been telling her to steer clear of that conference for the sake of her dignity.”
Ellen rolled her eyes. “Preston is not, nor has ever been, the mocking sort of person. He has good intentions, even if I don’t always agree with him.”
“I still don’t trust priests.”
“Why not?” Bobby asked.
Terence laughed. “Because when I was a kid, our parish priest collected about twenty grand in donations for ‘the poor of Mexico,’ then ran off with it and married some schoolteacher down in Phoenix. Nice meeting you.” He nodded at Bobby and disappeared in the direction from which he’d come.
Ellen deflated a bit once her husband had gone. “And to think I thought I’d reach an age where men were no longer compelled to dictate what I can and cannot do.”
“Your husband doesn’t want you to go, either,” Bobby said.
“He thinks they’ll turn me into a laughingstock, but I’m confident enough in my own discourse to not have to worry about that.”
Bobby was about to try another tactic when movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned his head and nearly went into cardiac arrest when he saw his pathetic phantom doppelganger leaning against the wall near the front door running his hands through his hair like he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
Ellen, detecting Bobby’s change in demeanor, followed his gaze and frowned. “What is it?”
Bobby swallowed a nervous lump in his throat. Now his doppelganger paced back and forth, back and forth, looking seriously unhinged. Did he always look like that when stressed out? “Nothing,�
�� he managed to croak. “I just thought I saw a…a bug. I think I’ll be leaving now.”
He and Ellen rose, and Bobby silently thanked the heavens that she couldn’t see the other version of himself looking like a basket case mere yards away from him. “I appreciate your concern for me,” Ellen said. “If it makes you feel any better, I can request additional security for next week. You’re even welcome to show up yourself if you’re interested in that kind of thing. Tickets cost ten dollars each, and we’re sending the proceeds to the local homeless shelter for Christmas.”
“I might do that,” Bobby said. “If I’m able.” He slipped his coat back on and finished his coffee in one gulp. “And thanks for the drink.”
“You’re welcome. Be sure to send Preston my regards. And for goodness sake, the next time you try to convince someone to do something, don’t tell them you’re psychic. It makes you look desperate.”
BOBBY BEAT his head against the steering wheel once he got back into the car. To his chagrin, his doppelganger had followed him out of the house and now sat beside him in the passenger seat, staring at him with wide eyes. It was like looking into some kind of freakish funhouse mirror. He couldn’t see how anyone would ever take him seriously if that was his true appearance. He was twenty-one and looked fifteen, maybe sixteen if he stretched his imagination enough. No wonder people like Tyree in New York and Ellen just now didn’t listen to him when he tried to warn them away from danger. He wouldn’t listen to him.
“What are you waiting for?”
Bobby jumped. His doppelganger had vanished, only to be replaced by Thane.
“I assume that’s been you screwing around with me,” Bobby said. “Making me see a copy of myself.”
Thane let out a laugh. “I wish I could say it was me, but that would be lying, wouldn’t it?”
“Would it be?”
Thane’s expression turned sour. “I gave you a chance this morning. I said if you turned yourself over to me, I would spare your friends, and now you’ve gone off on some wild goose chase to save a woman you don’t even know.”
“It’s hard for me to ‘turn myself over’ to you when I don’t have a clue where you are.”
“Touché, but you’re a smart man. You’ll figure it out.”
“I’ve got more important things to worry about now.”
Thane shook his head. “No, you don’t. The policeman you talked to was right. There is no assassination attempt. Your little friend just got his facts all muddled up and saw a threat where none existed.”
“No offense, but I’m more inclined to believe my gut than believe you.”
“But your gut hasn’t told you a thing. You haven’t had a premonition about this woman, therefore she isn’t in danger.”
“That’s because my premonitions usually happen right before whatever I’m supposed to stop.”
“Keep telling yourself that. I’ll be waiting for you.”
Thane disappeared. Bobby gritted his teeth and backed out of Ellen Barkley’s driveway.
BOBBY RUSHED to the Skyline Avenue Mall and made a beeline for the gift card kiosk sitting outside Jones Jewelers.
He picked out restaurant gift cards for Randy and Lupe, Phil and Allison, Frankie and Janet, Roger and Beverly, and Frank the First; then hesitated as he reached for one with Carly in mind. What if she didn’t want the same thing as everyone else? She’d become his closest friend these past few months despite the fact they’d initially gotten off on the wrong foot with each other. So, a bookstore gift card? Yeah. That would be good.
Problem was, Bobby didn’t see any bookstore gift cards on display. The teenage girl working the kiosk finished up with a customer and said, “Is there anything I can help you with?”
“No. I mean, yeah. I need to get my friend something but don’t know what.”
The girl’s eyes lit up. “A girl friend?”
“Well, yeah. She likes books.”
“Does she like jewelry?” She pointed at the entrance to Jones Jewelers. A sign in one of the windows advertised a special on diamond rings.
“I’m not sure.” Bobby tried to remember if he had ever seen Carly wearing jewelry or not. He knew she didn’t wear rings, and he wasn’t even sure if her ears were pierced. Why hadn’t he noticed anything like that before?
Hurry up and get your shopping done! a nagging voice advised him. You don’t have all day!
Well, he sort of did: he couldn’t bring Bradley back to the church to finish the cleansing until all church visitors had gone for the evening, and he had no desire to conduct the cleansing at Father Preston’s house in case Bradley managed to destroy the priest’s property.
The church meeting room was a much more controlled environment where Bradley could cause minimal damage.
“I guess I’ll go check it out,” Bobby said, slapping the small stack of gift cards on the kiosk counter so he could pay for them.
Sixty seconds later he found himself inside Jones Jewelers. A man not much older than him peered nervously into a case of engagement rings, which Bobby promptly avoided. No rings. Definitely no rings. Wouldn’t want to send the wrong idea—
“May I help you, young man?”
Bobby jumped. A gray-haired woman wearing a garish assortment of gold bangles stood behind the counter smiling at him.
“I’m trying to find a present for my friend,” he said, blushing.
“This is a lady friend?”
“Yeah, but she’s not my girlfriend. I mean, she’s my friend, and she’s a girl, but…” Bobby cringed inwardly at his own awkwardness. He was an adult, not a lovesick adolescent. “You know what I mean?”
The woman’s eyes twinkled. “I know exactly what you mean, and I have just the solution for you. Follow me.”
She led him to a glass case at the other end of the shop, where a number of different necklaces hung on display. “Does she wear much jewelry?” the woman asked as she went around to the other side of a case where more necklaces lay out on neck-shaped forms.
“No. I mean, not that I’ve seen. She might not have any.” Bobby felt himself blushing again. He was starting to wish he hadn’t come in at all. It would have been much easier to order a gift online and have it come in late than to face this torture.
“Do you think she’d prefer gold or sterling?”
Bobby studied the necklaces and tried to picture Carly wearing each of them. “I don’t know. Gold might not look right on her. She’s got sort of auburn hair and pale skin.” He sent up a silent prayer of thanks that Carly wasn’t there right now to hear him talking about her like this. One counted one’s blessings whenever one could.
The woman nodded. “So sterling, then. Here, take a look at this one.” She opened the back of the case and gently picked up a sterling silver chain dangling a round pendant with a green gem mounted in the center.
Bobby tentatively touched it, then shook his head. “I don’t think green is her thing. Um, what about that one?” He pointed at a necklace with a blue sapphire pendant, but as soon as the woman picked it up, he knew Carly wouldn’t like it, either.
Biting his lip, he scanned the display once more and laid his eyes on a silver necklace with a heart-shaped pendant made of pink and white gems that he hadn’t noticed before. A little card sitting in front of it said that the necklace cost $149.99.
Wincing at the price tag, he pointed. “Maybe that one?”
“Are you sure she’s just a friend?” the woman asked, her eyes twinkling again as she removed the necklace from the case and handed it to Bobby.
He rubbed his fingers over the heart-within-a-heart. The tiny stones sparkled in the light. Bobby nodded. “Yeah.”
BOBBY LEFT Jones Jewelers clutching the bag containing the necklace like it was a bomb about to go off. What had he just done? Carly would have a fit if she ever caught wind of how much he’d paid for it. He’d just have to make it a point to never tell her, though he wouldn’t put it past her to wrangle the information out of him in one way or a
nother.
He turned left out of the store and headed toward the mall exit, then stopped dead in his tracks when he caught sight of a lanky, dark-haired woman walking ahead of him.
His heart skipped a beat. Adrian?
The woman turned her head, and Bobby could see by the curve of her face that this was not, in, fact, his late mother. His face burned with silent embarrassment. What had he been thinking, anyway? People didn’t just rise from the dead and head to the mall to squeeze in a bit of holiday shopping. He’d been an idiot to entertain the possibility even for a millisecond.
He tried to feel some cheer at the sight of storefronts festooned with paper snowflakes and jingle bells, but the ghost of a future that would never be crept into his thoughts as had been happening more and more as of late.
He and Adrian walking through the mall carrying shopping bags. Adrian laughing at something Bobby had just said. Adrian Adrian Adrian.
Why had he been able to save some people but not her? He was her son. As flawed as she had been, she’d given him life. He’d owed it to her to keep her safe.
“Bobby?”
Bobby jumped and turned. Carly and Lupe stood behind him holding gift bags, looking somewhat like mismatched twins in their similar outfits.
“What are you doing here?” he blurted.
“The thing that people typically do at malls,” Carly said, scrutinizing the Jones Jewelers bag clutched in Bobby’s hand. “We wanted to pick up a few things before guests started arriving. How’s Bradley?”
“Oh, he’s fine,” Bobby said. “I mean, not fine fine; but you know. I’ll be going back to help him tonight after the party’s over.”
Carly lifted an eyebrow while Lupe checked her phone. Bobby wished he could tell her about what Bradley had overheard and supposed he might be able to find the time to do so tonight at the party. They were good at bouncing ideas off of each other; maybe she could help him figure out what to do now that Ellen had established she had no plans to quit the conference.
At once a commotion toward the mall entrance drew their attention. “Thank you so much!” exclaimed a man working as a bell ringer as he pumped another man’s arm up and down in a vigorous handshake. When he released the man’s hand, he held up a small piece of paper so nearby onlookers could see. “Ladies and gentlemen, this man here has just made out a $10,000 check to Samaritans of Southwest Oregon! If he can make a donation, so can you! Every penny you donate goes directly to the area’s homeless and impoverished and is greatly appreciated!”
