by Renee George
"I'm fine," I told him. I glanced at my brother and stared at him. The memory had been real. Or at least, it had felt real down to every detail. Except for him. He'd been there. I looked at Chav. I knew what she'd meant now.
"How did you do that?" I asked him.
"I can travel into the past whenever I touch someone, but only if they are thinking about something very specific. It has to be a memory with a strong emotional bond with the person, otherwise it doesn't work."
"When I'd slipped it made me think of the birth of my son."
"And then you took us there," Jack said. He was pale now. And sweating.
"Are you sick?"
"His heart rate is increased," Willy said.
"He smells like fear," Babe said. "You better sit down, Jack."
"That woman." Jack sat down and shook his head. "She turned into a monster when she killed that man. She turned into a giant hairy monster."
I flushed guiltily. So much for keeping the human in the dark about therianthropes.
I looked at Jack, and as calmly as I could, I said, "That was no monster. That was Great Aunt Erma Jean."
Chapter 4
Babe took me aside into the living room while my besties worked to soothe Jack's anxiety with maple butter sweet potato mash and hickory smoked ham.
"This is not good," Babe said. "Humans can't know about us."
"Then I guess we take him out to the woods and whack him. You get the wheelbarrow, and I'll get a shovel."
"Don't be ridiculous, Sunny," he said seriously. "I don't need a wheelbarrow. I can easily carry his body weight."
"Babe!" I smacked his chest. "I'm kidding."
He cracked a smile. "So am I." He rubbed my upper arms, gripped my shoulders, then shrugged. "I don't think it will be necessary to dispose of your brother."
"Alleged brother." I narrowed my gaze at him. "What do you mean by you don't 'think it will be necessary to dispose of' my brother?"
Babe let me go. "We should get back in there with them." And without answering my question, he walked around me to the kitchen. I supposed that was an answer in itself.
Jack was sitting at the table still, and his face was strangely calm as he looked up at me.
"Did you all drug him?" I asked.
Willy rolled her eyes at me. "No. No drugging."
Jack cast her a wary glance then looked at the cup of warm tea sitting in front of him.
"It's not drugged," Chav said. "Honest."
I took the cup from in front of Jack and put it to my lips. No one tried to stop me. I took a sip. "Mmm. Ginger and spice with a little honey. Very calming." I also tasted kava, which had some anxiety relieving properties, but I kept that to myself. I set the cup down and pushed it over to Jack. "You can drink it."
He made a face. "You just drank from the cup."
I pressed my fingers to my chest. "Do you think I have girl cooties?"
"Around here, it won't be the germs that kill you," Willy mumbled.
"Stop it," Ruth said. "You all are making Jack nervous." She replaced the tea in front of him. "Here you go. Cootie free."
"Thank you," he said. He took a small sip then a bigger one. "This is nice."
"Enjoy," Ruth said. She raised her brows at me. "Why don't you sit down, Sunny? I'm sure it's been a big day for you, too. You and Jack should talk."
Ruth, who is the best organizer I know, shooed everyone from the kitchen but Jack and me. Before she left, she said, "Tell him whatever you feel comfortable telling him. We trust your judgment."
"Thanks." I watched as Jack stuck his finger into is tea and gave it a swirl. "Rhonda used to do that with her drinks."
"She still does." His eyes lit up. "I guess some things stay the same."
"Look, I'm really glad you had parents that were there for you. But why don't we skip the family reunion and get down to why you're here. You said you were here to warn me."
"Warn might have been a strong word."
"So, you misled me."
The corner of his eyes crinkled. "In my defense, it got me in the door."
"Okay. You're in. Now what?"
"You look a lot like her," Jack said. "I see Mom in the shape of your mouth. The curve of your jaw."
I met his gaze. "Uh huh."
"The condescending stare," he added.
I laughed. "She did have a wicked stare."
"Still does." He smiled. "You laugh like her, too."
"Are they really living in an actual house in Arkansas?"
"Yes." He pulled out his phone and tapped on the gallery. "There's my dog Juke Box, he's a boxer, in the front yard."
"He's a cutie." The white boxer was on his back in the grass. The house was a gray split-level ranch. And as a kicker, there was a mini-SUV in the driveway. "Do you have any pictures of them?"
Jack flipped past several pictures of Juke Box, a selfie, and a picture of a lake with hills in the background before landing on one of woman laughing as a man dolloped her nose with chocolate cake frosting.
I felt my skin tighten as I went slightly numb. The woman's face was definitely Rhonda, older, of course, her brunette hair now trimmed with slivers of silver and gray, and the man, he was thicker than Jerry. His once long hair was gone, replaced by short-shorn locks and a hairline that receded to the top of his head. He wore glasses, but I could see him beneath this changed exterior, and neither my brain nor my body knew how to react.
"I have a better one," Jack said.
"No," I told him. "This one's good." I shook my head, trying to shake loose the fog of past grief. "Rhonda used to have dreadlocks. And Jerry, his hair had been thick and down his back. I can't believe how--" I stood up and paced a little. "I'm sorry. This is not your drama." I stared at Jack, sitting there looking so average and boring, and I was envious of his life. He'd had two stable parents who loved him and protected him, and I had two parents who so busy trying to find themselves they never had time for me. "I think you need to tell me why you're here, Jack."
"How about if you answer a question for me, I'll answer a question for you?"
I glared at him. "How about you answer my question, and I won't have my husband take you outside for a good thrashing?"
He blanched a little but didn't give in. "My question first."
"Fine." I sighed. "What's your question?"
"Did that woman in the memory quest really turn into a half-beast?"
"Oh." I blinked. A lot. "Uhm. That's really not something humans are supposed to know about."
"You're human."
"I'm also a psychic," I said in my defense.
"Well, good news," he said. "So am I."
"Smart ass."
"I'm thinking it might run in the family," he said.
There was a fire in Jack's personality that I would normally like in someone who wasn't my long-lost sibling who had the home life I'd always dreamed about but would never have.
Jack took another sip of his tea. "Besides, most people where I'm from think I'm crazy. Who would believe me?"
I guess one of the benefits of growing up in a commune was that those drug addled minds would believe just about anything. "Where I grew up, crazy was the new normal." Most of the numbness was gone now, and the anger I had wasn't for Jack. "This is a therianthropic community," I told him. "Therianthropes are people who are also part animal."
"Like a werewolf?"
I nodded. "Yes, but different species. Werewolves are lycanthropes. We have a handful of them here in Peculiar, but most the town are therians."
"Is your husband a...therian?"
"Yep. My two kids, too." I smiled thinking about Baby Jude and Dawn running around like sweet little pups. "They are coyote shifters."
"Wow." He rubbed his hands over his face then through his hair. "Wow."
"Freaky, right?"
"How is that even possible?"
I shrugged. "You were there when Great Aunt Erma Jean went all furry terminator on Jeremiah Bowers."
"I didn
't believe my eyes. I thought because you were a psychic, maybe our powers combined to create a crazy nightmare." He took another sip of tea. "I can't believe it's real."
"I'm sure you get the same reaction when you tell people you are a psychic."
He nodded. "That's true. I just never imagined there were real shapeshifters. I mean, walking through someone's memory isn't the same thing as physically changing body form."
"How does your ability work?"
"If someone is thinking of a specific time in their lives, and they focus on the moment and how it made them feel, I can connect with that, and take us both back to the time and place. Memory has a way of fading and changing. My ability allows my clients to see things as they really happened. I use it to settle disputes, find lost objects, and relive happier times. I take them back to the desired moment and they get to relive it all over again."
"So, it's more like time travel than a vision."
"Sort of, but I can only observe, not interact," he explained. "I'm the fly on the wall."
"But Chavvah said you were at her wedding, like she remembered you being there. And I saw you at the Paw-On when I went into labor. You were holding my hand."
"Yeah," he agreed. "That really freaked me out. I've never had anyone talk to me in a vision, and even stranger, I couldn't stop the memory walk. You were keeping me there. It was only after you let go that I could take us out of it. And I hadn't realized that your friend saw me, either, though it didn't feel nearly as intense as when I was in the memory with you." He scratched his chin. "I would love to try it with someone else to make sure it's not a fluke."
I snorted. "You want to experiment on my family and friends? I don't think so."
Chav popped her head around the corner. "It could be interesting," she said.
Of course, they were listening. "Who in their right mind wants a stranger poking around in their past?"
"Honestly, I really enjoyed reliving my wedding," she said. "It was a good day, you know, other than my step-daughter trying to kill me and all."
"I'll do it," Babe said as he walked into the kitchen.
Ruth followed him in. "I'd volunteer, as well."
Willy, who look particularly grumpy, said, "This is a fucking terrible idea."
I crossed my arms. "I take it you have no plans to sign up to relive the past."
She smirked. "I'd rather shit the bed."
"That's pretty definitive," Chav said. "Willy's out."
"I'm excited to try this. Who's up first?" Jack asked.
I waved my hand at him. "Wait a minute there, Jack-o. Slow your jelly roll."
He pinched his thin, flat belly. "I have no jelly roll."
Another strike against him. "I have enough jelly roll to slow for the two of us."
"Why aren't you more scared of us?" Willy asked. "A smart man would be looking for escape routes."
"I kind of figure if you all were going to hurt me, you'd have done it by now," Jack answered. "I'm chancing that you're willing to let me keep breathing, at least for now. Besides, where would I go? My car is sitting at the police station miles from here, and I don't see me getting far on foot if you guys want to catch me."
Willy pursed her lips and gave him a grudging nod. "All true."
"I promise to stop any memory that is unpleasant or too personal."
"Don't think about sex anyone," I said then giggled. That's all they'd be thinking about now.
Ruth and Babe were quiet for a moment, then Ruth said, "Babe better go first."
Chav and Willy both snickered until Ruth cast her glare on them.
Babe raised his hand. "Fine. I'll do it." He gave me a baleful glance. "But, remember, if your brother sees you naked, it's your fault, not mine."
Chapter 5
"All right," Jack said. He and Babe were sitting across from each other now. "I want you to think of a pleasant memory, one that you feel a strong connection with."
"But not one that involves me getting naked," I added.
"To be on the safe side," Jack said, "why don't you pick a time from before you met Sunny?"
A flash of my husband with the evil dead, aka Sheila Murphy, the woman who used to boff him and who tried to kill me, made me cringe. "Pick a time before you came to Peculiar," I told Babe. I gave him a tight smile with lots of teeth.
He winked at me. "I've chosen my moment."
"When you're ready, I'm going to touch your hand. Just relax into the memory," Jack said.
Babe shook his hands and arms, cracked his neck and took a couple of deep breaths. "Ready."
"For a rumble," Willy said.
Ruth giggled.
Babe curled his lip. "Let's just get this over with."
"Are you having second thoughts?" I asked.
Hesitantly, he said, "No. Maybe some third or fourth thoughts, but no second ones."
Chav gave him a nudge. "It doesn't hurt, baby bro. You know, in case you were worried." She held up her hands. "See. No bruises."
Babe slid his hand, palm up across the table to Jack. "Do it."
Jack, like with Chav, stretched out a finger and made just the slightest contact with Babe's skin. He jerked again, his eyes rolling back. It reminded me of the pre-vision seizures I had sometimes.
"Is it working?" Willy asked.
Ruth hushed her. "Give them a minute."
Babe's blue eyes closed. His lids began to flutter.
"He's in it now," Chav said.
His face was serene, the muscles relaxed. "I wonder where he chose to go?" I asked.
Chav tilted her head as she studied her brother. "He's probably reliving some touchdown he scored on the football field in high school. Mom and Dad used to brag about his games all the time."
Chav was six years older than Babe, so she wasn't around when he was in high school, but I imagined he was a great athlete, and not just because he was a shifter. My dude had some serious hand-eye coordination that I'm sure translated to sports. He and Chav had grown up as integrators, therians who lived among humans. The freedom the shifters had in Peculiar didn't translate to the real world.
I asked him once if it was hard to constantly hide who he was, and he said, "I hid my nature, not who I am. There's a difference."
I never really understood, though. I spent a lifetime hiding who and what I was from everyone. Except Chav. Even now, I had a core group of friends in Peculiar who knew I was human and not a shifter, but I still had to hide a part of myself from everyone else around here. The Tri-state council, the head shifter mucky-mucks, wouldn't take kindly to a human living in a therian town. We'd already survived one investigation, but it had been tough. If I'd been found out, Babe and I would have been forced to leave town, and he would have had to return to integration. I wondered if Babe would have been happier to return to the human world. He had a degree in public relations, and before his brother and sister's disappearances brought him to Peculiar, he had lined up a job in Kansas City.
Since I never wanted to leave Peculiar, I didn't ask him. Did I think I was being a coward? Absolutely. But I'd learned a long time ago not to ask questions when I wasn't sure I'd like the answer.
"Is he crying?" Ruth asked.
A tear fell down Babe's cheek. What in the world could he be experiencing that would upset him enough to cry? And why wasn't Jack bringing them back?
"Jack, stop this." Alarm and a fierce protectiveness rushed through me. "Babe. Wake up."
Neither of them moved. My heart picked up the pace. Instinctually, I grabbed Babe's hand to break the contact, but when my fingers connected, my skin warmed as my country-style kitchen disappeared and was replaced with an Old World style kitchen with dark, carved wood cabinets that went all the way to the ceiling, a granite-topped center island, and bisque-colored tiles. A bounty of food including turkey, stuffing, gelatin salads, mashed potatoes, gravy, yams with marshmallows, and all the other traditional Thanksgiving fixings covered every ounce of counter space.
My mother-in-law Celia wa
s stirring a crockpot of green beans and a young boy, about the age of ten sat at the end of a breakfast bar eating celery packed with peanut butter. He smiled at his mom, his blue eyes sparkling. He hopped down and quietly made his way to the turkey, but before he could even lay one finger on the bird, Celia whipped around and said, "Don't you dare, young man." Her own smile took the harshness out of her words. "Why don't you take the salads to the dining room table?" Then she looked up, and yelled, "Jude! Chav! Come help your brother set the table. It's that time!"
"My gosh. That's Babe," I said.
Jack said, "It is."
"Can he see you?"
"No. I haven't been able to interact with him. Not like with you and Chavvah. This is nice, though."
"Did something bad happen? He's upset."
Jack chuckled. "He isn't upset. He's happy."
A brown-haired teenaged boy, who I realized was his older brother Jude, rushed into the room. He was tall but hadn't quite grown into his lank yet. He put Babe in a headlock and rubbed Babe's scalp with his knuckles.
"Mom!" Babe said.
"You boys quit roughhousing," Celia told. "Get the food moving in the right direction before I sick Aunt Erma Jean on you."
They both made shows of dramatic dismay. Celia laughed.
"You two need to quit being so annoying," a young Chavvah said as she trailed into the kitchen.
Jude released Babe, and both boys gave each other a knowing look, before shouting, "Tickle torture!" and tackling their sister to ground.
They were laughing and loving and being a family, and I suddenly understood why Babe had gotten emotional.
"I'm tired," Jack said. "Time passes quickly in these memory quests, and I don't think I can sustain this one much longer."
"He really does look happy," I said, watching my husband relive what had to be a favorite childhood memory. "They all do." The Trimmels had suffered such a great loss when Jude died. I didn't realize just how big until now.
"You have to let go, Sunny. I think your contact is keeping us here. The same thing happened in your memory. I couldn't bring us out of it. You have to be the one."
"Okay." The Old World kitchen disappeared, and I was once again sitting at the table in my own cozy space.
