by Amy Reece
***
Later that afternoon Tara and I were in my bedroom supposedly accessorizing the new outfits we had bought. She was actually lazing on my bed, staring at my bookshelf, when she suddenly leaped up and pounced on something lying on the floor.
“This is it!” She grabbed up my yearbook from sophomore year and began flipping through it.
“What? That’s just my yearbook.”
“Yes, and it lists everyone’s first names, even the teachers! And their pictures! We can look through it to see how many Nicks there are and if any of them could be the guy you’ve seen in the visions.” We sat side by side and looked through, starting with the teachers.
“Here’s one,” Tara pointed to a picture. “Nicholas Chiszowski. Isn’t that your physics teacher?”
“Yeah, but no way! It couldn’t be him!” I argued.
“Are you sure? He’s the only Nicholas I see in the teacher’s section, unless there are new ones this year.”
“God, Tara. He’s so nice! I really don’t want it to be him.”
“Well, sometimes it’s the guys that seem nice on the outside. He may be hiding a rotten soul.”
“Rotten soul? You should be a writer, you know that? I’m in class with him every day and so is Veronica. Don’t you think I would have picked up on some bad vibes or tension or something? Could she really sit there day after day and act be so normal?”
“I don’t know, but we should at least keep him on our list. Let’s look through the student section. This could take a while,” she sighed as she flipped back to the beginning of the freshman section.
We found five guys named Nicholas, but only one of them seemed like even a remote possibility.
“Nicholas Grayson, junior. Which means he’s a senior this year. He looks like a fairly big guy, huh? Do you know him?” she asked.
“Yeah, I kind of do. He’s on the basketball team. I’ve never talked to him, though.”
“Well, it looks like we have two suspects: Mr. Chiszowski and this Nicholas Grayson. At least we have a place to start. I think you should start observing how they act. You could keep all your notes in a little notebook or something.” She was really getting into this.
“Tara, I know you’re dying to play spy, but this is serious. And we actually have three suspects: I’m wondering about Veronica’s stepdad.”
“Eww. That’s disgusting. And hey, I know this is serious,” she sounded slightly offended. “Fine. No notebook then. But you have to keep track somehow.”
“How about I just remember? There are only two of them at school.”
“Spoilsport,” she muttered.
***
I spent Thanksgiving morning with Mom and Grams at the senior citizens’ center, helping cook and serve a nice turkey dinner to old people who didn’t have any family nearby. Several years ago we had decided that it was silly to fix a big fancy dinner for only three people, so we had made it our tradition to go to the center. Later that afternoon, I went with Jack to another one of his many cousins’ house for their Thanksgiving feast. It was wonderful, but a bit overwhelming; the huge spread of food, including turkey and all the fixings plus tamales, enchiladas, and several varieties of empanadas. I was touched to see plenty of vegetarian choices. That, more than anything else, told me I was accepted as Jack’s girlfriend. Mat was there and flirted as outrageously as he had when I first met him.
“Give it a rest, Mat,” Jack warned when Mat cornered me by the dessert table. Jack came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist.
“I want the lady to know she has options, cousin. When you realize Jack is actually a boring stick-in-the-mud, you call me, Ally,” he said.
“I’ll keep that in mind, Mat. Thanks. Here, Jack. I got this pie for you, but I want a bite.” I fed him a bite of pumpkin pie and whipped cream and then took a bite from the same fork.
“Oh, jeez. You’re sharing silverware already? I’m gonna barf. You’ve really sunk your hooks into her, huh Jack?” Mat walked away, shaking his head in mock disgust.
“Ally,” Trina called from the kitchen. “Are you coming with us tomorrow to cut a Christmas tree?”
“Um, yeah. I guess,” I looked up at Jack, somewhat confused.
“Jack, you were supposed to ask her the other night,” Trina scolded.
“Oh, shit, Trina. I forgot. Sorry,” Jack apologized.
“Watch your mouth, young man,” Trina scolded. “How are you going to like it when Megan starts copying your atrocious language? She practically worships you, you know.”
Jack looked suitably contrite. “Sorry, Trina. I forgot to mention it to Ally the other night. I guess I was so wrapped up in writing that paper that it slipped my mind.”
I nearly choked on my pie, remembering that what he had really been wrapped up in was my arms.
“So, querida, do you want to go up to the mountains with my family to get a tree? We go every year the day after Thanksgiving; it’s a family tradition. There might even be some snow this year. Maybe I’ll get to push you into a snow bank.” He winked at me playfully.
I pointedly turned away from him and said to his aunt, “Thank you, Trina. I would love to.” I turned back to Jack and took the last bite of pie for myself as I gave him a dirty look.
“Feisty!” he said, laughing.
***
Jack picked me up early the next morning, driving a slightly battered pickup truck pulling a flatbed trailer.
“What’s this?” I asked as I got in, petting Sodapop, who was sitting in the middle of the bench seat. I got a generous doggy tongue bath in return.
“This is one of Manny’s trucks. We need 4-wheel drive to get where we’re going.”
“Where’s Megan? I thought she was coming.”
“She’s with Trina and Manny. There’s no place for her car seat in here. Move, dog, my turn to kiss her,” he said as he pulled me to him, pushed the dog out of the way, and began kissing me. After all too short a time, he set me back on my side of the cab. At my sulky look, he said, “Don’t even go there, you little temptress.” He tapped me on the nose and started the truck.
We drove about 30 minutes north of Albuquerque to a Pizza Hut parking lot in Bernalillo where we met up with the rest of his family. I counted four other vehicles full of various relatives and friends. Once everyone had arrived we began the hour-long trip northwest from Bernalillo to the Jemez Mountains, passing from dry, dusty desert to dense, high altitude forest. We stopped at the Walatowa ranger’s station located on the Jemez Pueblo to buy tree permits and were directed to a specific cutting area. Between the numerous members of his family, we were planning to cut at least five trees, and Grams had asked me to find a small one for our house. When we arrived in the tree cutting area, Trina and a couple of the other older women set up a base camp with a fire pit and several camp stoves on which they began heating various kettles and pots. Jack shouldered a hacksaw with one hand and took Megan’s hand with the other, motioning for me to follow. Sodapop loped along behind, veering off the path often to chase after unsuspecting forest creatures. He seemed to be enjoying himself immensely, judging by his goofy doggy grin as he came running back to us. We were all bundled up, including mittens and hats, for the snow. There isn’t much call for heavy snow gear in Albuquerque, so I had had to search through boxes in the garage for a hat and gloves. There had been an early storm over the Thanksgiving holiday so there were actually a few inches of snow on the ground in the mountains.
“Come on, Princess. Let’s show Ally how to find a really good Christmas tree.”
“Come on, Ally. It’s so much fun! When we get back we can drink hot chocolate with marshmallows and eat posole.” Megan grabbed my hand with her free one and we were off.
Jack had to tell Megan and me that every tree looks good with snow on it, since we both tended to fall in love with every one we saw. He was surprisingly picky, bypassing trees that I thought were perfectly acceptable. It took us two hours to find a tree he approved of f
or his family and a smaller one for mine. He sawed through the trunks without too much trouble and Megan and I helped him haul them both back to the base camp and then stood around drinking hot chocolate and coffee, trying to warm up. Once the other family members had chosen their trees and arrived back at the camp, Trina and Jack’s Aunt Gloria began serving the various kinds of soup they had brought. There is something about being outdoors in the freezing cold that makes food taste so good. Trina had thoughtfully brought a vegetarian posole for me. I found a seat beside Jack on a log and happened to glance at his spoon as he put it into his mouth.
“What kind of soup is that, Jack?” I asked suspiciously.
“My Aunt Gloria’s menudo. She makes the best.”
“Oh, God. Is that tripe you’re chewing?”
“Yep. It is a key ingredient in menudo, querida.”
“I know. I wish I didn’t, but I do. Jack, I really don’t know if I can kiss you after you’ve been chewing tripe. I think you might have crossed a line.” I set my soup aside, completely grossed out by the thought of the cow stomach lining Jack was currently masticating.
“Aw, sweetheart. You wouldn’t withhold those beautiful lips from me because of a little menudo, would you? It’s part of my heritage, my upbringing. In fact, I think withholding kisses might qualify as racial discrimination,” he teased.
“Oh, really? Racial discrimination, huh? Well, we can’t have that.” I leaned over and kissed him firmly on the cheek. “That’s absolutely it until you find a Tic-Tac, mister.”
We had an enjoyable afternoon sitting around the campfire, telling jokes and listening to stories of Jack’s extended family. Little Nathan was adorable bundled up in his snowsuit, trying to help Megan build a snowman while Sodapop ran around them, excitedly biting the snow. Mat and Jack, along with several other cousins, got into an energetic snowball fight, which I watched from the safety of the sidelines. I loved seeing this light-hearted, fun side of Jack, but was alarmed when he caught my eye and began stalking me, saying, “How about we go find a nice, deep snow bank, querida?” I ran off, giggling, but he swiftly caught me, grabbed me up, and threw me over his shoulder. He carried me a short distance away from the campsite and then set me down behind a giant pine tree.
“What happened to throwing me in a snow bank?” I laughed.
“There’s still time for that, but later. Right now I really need to kiss you.”
“Oh, you need to kiss me, huh? Like you’re going to die if you don’t?” I teased.
“Yes, I will absolutely die if I don’t kiss you right now. It’s been at least four hours since our last kiss.” He pressed his cold lips to mine, running his warm tongue along the seam, seeking entrance. I gladly granted it, sinking into his intoxicating kiss while I speared my fingers through his black curls, still wet from the snowball fight.
“You two wanna get a room?” Mat interrupted. “You better hope Trina doesn’t catch you, Jack, or you’ll get a fun-filled safe sex lecture.”
Jack groaned and pulled away slightly. “Go to hell, Mat. Let me kiss my girlfriend in peace.” He went back to doing that as Mat left, chuckling.
“Sorry about that.” He rested his forehead against mine, breathing hard. “I don’t want to embarrass you.”
“Kissing you will never embarrass me,” I whispered. “You can kiss me anywhere, anytime you want.”
“Oh, I can, huh? God, you’re good for my ego. Anywhere, huh? How about right here? You seem to like it when I kiss you here,” he said as he nibbled under my ear.
It was my turn to groan. “That’s not what I meant, Jack.”
“Yeah, I know.” He continued kissing my neck while I clung to his shoulders to keep from sinking to the ground in a puddle. After a few minutes of utter bliss, he pulled away, saying, “We better get back before they send out a search party. I’ve had that lecture from Trina before and it’s not as fun as it sounds.”
“It doesn’t sound fun at all, actually.”
“Exactly.”
Around 5:30 the men all loaded up the trees on the flatbed trailer while the rest of us cleaned up the camp site, making sure we completely extinguished the campfire. This was all so fun and such a different experience than anything I’d ever done with my family. It was laughable to think about Grams out here searching for Christmas trees. Outdoorsy is not a term that fits her in any way. We stopped in Bernalillo on the way home for pizza, filling the entire back room of the restaurant with our loud, boisterous group. I looked around at Jack’s large, loving family and felt a touch of sadness that I didn’t know more of my extended family. I had no cousins; Jack had a seemingly endless supply. I had never known my grandfather; he had died when my mom was in high school. I don’t even know my father’s name because mom had said when he found out about her pregnancy, he denied that it was his and told her to have an abortion.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Jack noticed my contemplative mood.
I leaned against him and he put his arm around me; I loved how responsive he was to my moods and that he seemed to know when I was pondering something and needed to talk about it. “Oh, nothing. I was thinking about family and how important it is. You’re really lucky, Jack. I hope you appreciate what you have.”
Just at that moment, Mat dared his younger cousin, Josue, to eat a spoonful of red pepper flakes. As poor Josue began to sweat and spit out the peppers into a napkin, Jack said wryly, “Oh, yeah. I know exactly how lucky I am.” I laughed with him, putting my head on his shoulder.
“Jack, are you gonna kiss her?” Megan had appeared at his elbow.
“I don’t know. Should I?” he asked the little girl.
She giggled. “Yeah.”
“Good idea.” He leaned in and kissed me softly.
“Eww!” Megan gagged and climbed up into her brother’s lap.
“Not even close, Princess,” he said as he kissed her head. Within minutes she was yawning and snuggling deeper into his arms. “I think Trina and Manny will have a quiet ride home.” He smiled at me.
Jack dropped me off an hour later in front of my house. Before I went inside, he pulled me close and kissed me. “Thanks for coming today,” he said. “My family loves you.”
“Well,” I said, nuzzling his neck. “They are obviously a very smart group of people.”
“Enough of that,” he said, holding himself away from my seeking lips. “Behave yourself.” He smiled at my pouty look. “I’ll get your tree set up in a stand and bring it over tomorrow.”
“Mmmm hmm,” I said, trying to get back to kissing him.
He gave me a peck on the cheek and said, “Good night, Ally.” He opened the door and shooed me in.
Mom and Grams were sitting in the living room, obviously waiting for me, looking rather grim-faced.
“Hey, Mom. Grams? What’s wrong? Am I in trouble or something?”
“Hello, Ally,” came a voice from the corner.
“Cassie!” I exclaimed. “You’re back!”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Truth is beautiful, without doubt; but so are lies.”
–Ralph Waldo Emerson
I rushed to give her a hug. “Cassie! How was your trip? You’ve been gone so long. Did you find anything?”
“Slow down, Ally. Let me breathe.” She held me away and scrutinized me closely.
“Sorry. I’ve been worried.” I sat down on the couch with her, ready to get on with the news she brought. I wondered why Grams and Mom still looked unhappy. What had Cassie already told them?
“Ally,” Cassie began, “the reason I’ve been gone so long is that I had a lot of research to do. Your situation, your apparent gift, is quite unusual. I needed to talk to a group of people about you and they needed to talk amongst themselves about how they wanted to handle what’s going on with you.”
“What? What group of people? Cassie, what are you talking about?”
“Ally, I need you to listen for a little while. There are some things I need to tell you, things about y
our gift, about Seers in general, that you need to know. And then we all need to make some plans.” She looked to all of us for our assent. “Now, first of all, you need to know that what you’ve been told, what your grandmother told you about your powers, is not the whole story.”
She went on to spin a tale of ancient magic, Druid priestesses, and well-kept secrets. Grams had told me that our family had been given the power of second sight, or clairvoyance, by a grateful druid priestess about a thousand years ago, in return for saving her life. One ancient Irish booty call later, and my family, the Morans, had the gift that keeps on giving, to the females of the line, at least, in varying degrees. What Grams didn’t tell me, if she even knew, was that this gift somehow made its way to other families, as well. Yeah, I don’t want know how, either. After all this time, the descendants of these ancient Irish hook-ups were all over Ireland, America, even Europe. A core group of women in Ireland, called the Seer Council, felt it was their job to keep track of the descendants and what gifts they turned out to have. Some, like Cassie, were powerful in several different ways. Some, like Grams, were powerful in only one way. Some, like my mom, had a very slight power. But every once in a while, someone like me turns up, someone with some scary abilities. Cassie said that it was my vision of Megan losing her tooth, the vision that had not happened yet, that had made her realize she needed advice and knowledge beyond what she possessed.
“Ally.” She took my hands between hers and looked intently into my eyes. “The Council wants to meet you. Soon.”
“Why? What do they need me for?”
“Ally, they need to talk to you, to test you. They need to see what you can do. They need to see the extent of your powers so far. You are not yet 17, and already you are exhibiting powers not seen in any adult of the current generation. Powers not seen for nearly one hundred years. They’re concerned.”
“Sweetheart.” My mom came over and sat by me. “Cassie wants to take you to Ireland over the Christmas holidays so you can meet with the Council.”
