Out of Nowhere, page 7
Koda and Ceya stood as Ceya said, “Sleep more, Pax. You’re safe here. When you wake, we’ll begin.”
Pax didn’t need to be told again to sleep. He felt as if his whole body was pulling him into the earth, and he fell asleep the minute his head touched the ground.
Ceya covered him with the soft blanket Koda had hung on the chair, and turning to her husband, reached for his hand. If Pax were still awake, he would have heard them both giggling as they ran outside and flew. As they rode the air currents they could see everything laid below them: where three rivers became one, the streaming traffic, and even the woman who observed them.
As Maya saw the hawks circle above her, tears ran down her cheeks. She knew they had come for her. It was terrifying, knowing that Dradon would do anything to stop them and her, but it was also exhilarating because now there was a chance she and Ginny would be free. If not her, at least Ginny. She would make sure of that, no matter what it took.
NINETEEN
Instead of sitting in the coffee shop, Valerie and Grace took their coffees out to one of the park benches to watch the sunrise and listen to the dawn chorus. Tree frogs joined in the songs of the birds as a slight breeze whispered through the branches. Both of them understood that spring wouldn't last long. It was as if all of nature stored up energy through the winter and then, in a great burst, released it all at once. Spring was not a time to get distracted from the beauty of nature.
From where they sat, they could see masses of color. The delicate redbud with its rosy pink flowers looked beautiful alongside the white blooms of the cherry, apple, and magnolia. One of the many gardening groups in town had planted beds of tulips, hyacinths, and daffodils along the gravel paths. Later they would plant beds of flowers designed to attract bees, birds, and butterflies during the summer.
Grace sighed and laid her head back on the edge of the bench and watched the sky change from the dark blue of the night into the same color as a robin's egg.
"I love it here," she whispered.
Valerie smiled at her friend, thinking how grateful she was that Grace and her friends had chosen Doveland to make their home. She was sure that hadn't been their original intention, but once they arrived, they had changed Doveland—first by revealing a dark secret and then inspiring the changes that made Doveland such a beautiful place to live.
They also brought a different way of seeing and being that opened up possibilities for people to discover what some people called magic. Instead, it was what Valerie had come to understand was an expanded perception of what was possible.
Both her sons were benefactors of this expanded perception. At first, that scared her, but then she realized it was a gift. And like all gifts, they were only worth something if used.
"Did you ever hear that story about the sick whale?" Valerie asked.
Grace turned and smiled at her friend, shaking her head no.
"I wish I could remember all the details, but the story is that a whale had a disease that only one place in the world knew how to heal, and the whale swam there to get help."
"Smart whale," Grace said.
"That's what Doveland feels like to me. People come to us because we can help. And even though the whale brought with it a disease, the people at the hospital knew how to heal it."
"I can see how that applies to us," Grace responded. "Someone always seems to know how to help. Did Lex or Johnny mention anything about who is coming now?"
"Neither of them admit to having remote-viewed anyone. But you think there is?"
"Maybe it's only because of what you said about the whale. I know Doveland is the place people come to get help, so perhaps I am just expecting someone to show up since it's been a few months since our last adventure."
"Could be," Valerie answered. "But you expect it's more than that, don't you?"
"I do. And, it feels different this time."
Valerie laughed. "It's always different, my friend."
"That it is," Grace answered, and laid her head back on the bench.
"Might as well enjoy this quiet time while we have it," Valerie said, laying her head back on the bench like Grace.
And that's where Hank found them a few minutes later and asked them if they would like to have breakfast with him in the Diner.
"Why not?" they both replied, smiling at Hank as they stood and hooked their arms through his.
"Are you two up to something?" he asked.
"Not yet," they answered. And Hank, being Hank, understood what they meant.
"Did you hear about the wind advisory for tomorrow?" Pete asked once Grace, Valerie, and Hank sat down.
"Spring wind," Grace said. "Perfect for scattering seeds."
"Well, that's one way to look at it," Pete said.
"I like wind most of the time, but it can be both good and bad, can't it?" Pete's wife, Barbara, said as she rounded the corner after coming downstairs from their apartment above the Diner.
"Like most things, I guess," she added. "I read that Paramahansa Yogananda said, 'Evil spreads with the wind; truth is capable of spreading even against it.'"
Grace and Valerie looked at each other before Grace said, "That kinda describes what Valerie was saying to me earlier."
"So evil is heading our way?" Hank asked.
"Along with someone who needs our help to fight it," Grace answered.
"Well, then I say eat up while we can," Pete said, laughing. "The usual for everyone?"
A round of nods of yes, and Pete headed to the kitchen to help Alex get their order ready. The morning crowd would arrive soon, and Alex would need all the help he could get. Alex Bender started as a server, then became a cook, and now he was not only the manager of the Diner, but he also helped with the cooking school he and Pete started for the children of Doveland and Concourse.
As Pete glanced around the Diner, he reflected on how much his life had changed from being a long-distance truck driver, which was how he and Hank had first met. These people had helped him and Barbara, so whoever was coming to Doveland to get their help, he was all in. Besides, it was another adventure, and Pete loved adventure. He wondered what kind was coming this time.
TWENTY
"It's time to learn your way around this world, Pax," Koda said the following day. "You've slept enough. Besides, Maya knows someone is here to help her, and I expect if we don't go talk to her soon, she will be at my door, demanding to know who else arrived from Crann."
Groaning as he sat up, Pax asked, "How would she know?"
"She saw Ceya and me flying. We made sure she would see us. Although we have never spoken, Maya knows I have been here and who I am. But because of Dradon, we have stayed away from each other. It was part of the agreement between her and Dradon. He would let Maya and Ginny live as long as no one ever learned about where he came from. But what Maya has been doing all these years is not living. It's surviving. And hiding. And hoping. Now you're her hope."
"I understand that is how you see me, but I don't understand how that can be. I came because I accept it is what Akotas and Isira want me to do. They told me it was me who has to help Maya and Ginny, but how? And stop Dradon? I understand what he is doing that I am supposed to stop, but don't know how I am supposed to do it. This world is not my world."
As Pax spoke, he became more and more agitated, walking around the parameter of the small shack, and each time around, his voice grew louder.
Koda watched, no expression on his face, his eyes tracking Pax's every move.
"Stop it!" Pax said. "When you look at me like that, I feel as if you are hunting me."
"Well, I am a hawk, after all," Koda smirked. “And in a way, I am hunting you. Hunting for the man who is supposed to help us all return to Crann. Where is that man? I only see a boy. Complaining and afraid.”
"Well, we agree then. I am a boy, and I am afraid."
"What is wrong with you two?" Ceya demanded as she entered the shack, trying to hold the door with one hand and a bag in another.
The wind whistled through the open door, blowing papers across the floor and slamming the door against the wall.
Koda rushed to close the door as Pax took the bag from her hand and set it on the table.
"I thought I would introduce you to the pleasures of coffee in the morning, but I didn't count on that wind coming up. What are you two arguing about? If the wind weren't making so much noise, the entire neighborhood would have heard you. Including Maya, who is huddled out there in the car trying to stay warm."
"It's my fault," Pax said. "I'm complaining."
"And afraid I heard. Who could blame you? This is a strange world. But while we are here, and while Koda and I are in these bodies, there is no reason not to enjoy some of the pleasures it offers. Like this coffee and more bagels. Later we'll get you something else to eat, but first, try this."
Pax watched how Ceya and Koda opened their cup to drink and sigh with contentment. He did the same thing, took a drink, and spit it out.
"What is this stuff?"
"That was our first reaction, too," Ceya smiled. “But give it another chance. It will grow on you. And while we eat, let's plan our day.”
Ginny’s coffee with Fred went so well that they planned to meet again after school the next day at a park and have a small picnic. Ginny liked that idea. It kept their meeting casual, and it was good to have someone to talk to that wasn’t her mother, who didn’t speak to her, and children who were, well, children. And she had to admit it was a pleasure to talk to a man.
All her life, she’d been a loner. Ginny wasn’t sure if that was who she was or because of who her mother had become. And she wasn’t sure if she would ever find out. Life had handed her a script, and she couldn’t rewrite it.
Living in what everyone called the haunted house hadn’t helped. She couldn’t invite friends over or even date unless she met them somewhere else. But once they found out what house she lived in, they stayed away from her. Sometimes they called her mother a ghost. Once she had a boyfriend, but it wasn’t serious and didn’t last long. Nothing could ever be serious. Even in college, she had stayed at home, too afraid to leave her mother by herself.
When Ginny was a young girl, she sometimes fantasized that she was a hero like Super Woman or even some actual women like Sally Ride who had courage and went after what they wanted. Fought for it. And lived life to the fullest. She would imagine the joy that would bring her to make things happen, to fight against evils in the world, stand up for what was right.
But Ginny stopped those daydreams when she accepted that none of that could happen because of her mother. And she loved her mother, despite what her mother was like now. She had memories of happier days. She remembered a beautiful woman holding her hand as they walked down the street, who bent over and kissed her every night, smelling like cupcakes.
So she stuffed down the urge to be someone and fight against injustice and instead taught, hoping she would do right by these children so they’d grow up and be who they were meant to be. She might not be able to do that for herself, but she could for them.
After their coffee yesterday, Ginny thought that perhaps she’d met someone who would understand her choices. She and Fred didn’t talk about her mother. They spoke of him and his daughter. His wife died in childbirth, and he was raising her on his own. He traveled a lot in his job, which was why he was looking for an excellent school for his daughter. If she was happy in school, perhaps she wouldn’t miss him as much.
Ginny asked Fred about his job, but he shrugged and said he was a quality control guy for a large firm. His job was to make sure everything flowed smoothly for his boss. Yes, he loved the work. But he was looking forward to a promotion, where he could stay in one place.
When he smiled at her, Ginny thought she would enjoy having him staying around. And then quickly dismissed the idea. She didn’t want to put something into a relationship that wasn’t even one. It was teacher and parent, that’s it.
Still, having a picnic sounded good. Light and casual, just how Ginny wanted it. But neither of them counted on the wind that came up during the night.
So it didn’t surprise Ginny when he texted and invited her to dinner instead. What she wasn’t prepared for was how much she wanted to go.
TWENTY ONE
After making the phone call to Ginny to change their plans from a picnic to dinner, smiling to himself at how it was all working out, Fred did what Dradon asked him to do. Knowing that they were both at work, he went to Maya and Ginny’s house to check it out.
Everything was a surprise to him. What Dradon hadn't told him was what the house looked like. Did Dradon know? It was falling apart. It reminded him of the house he had to walk by on the way to elementary school. Everyone called it the haunted house and stayed away. Even though he needed to walk by it to get to school, he would cross the street or take a long way around to avoid it if he were alone.
Sometimes he was with a group of kids who walked to school together, and then they would all point and shiver at the house, repeating all the ghost stories they had heard about it. They would push and shove, trying to make someone knock on the door. One day, Fred braved it. Tired of being the unwanted skinny boy in the group, he wanted to prove that he was worth something. He crossed the street, holding his breath, his hands balled into a fist, his backpack hanging heavy on his back, and walked up to the door and knocked.
The door was not opened by a ghost or a ghoul, but by a woman wearing an apron. She and the house smelled like cinnamon. He had stuttered and stammered, not having prepared anything to say. The only thing he had worked on was the courage to knock on the door. He, and the children hiding across the street watching him, had expected no one to answer.
The woman smiled, having glimpsed the children across the street, and realizing what was happening, invited him in. But not before making a growling sound and pretended to yank him inside. He stood, terrified until she returned with a plate of cookies. While he drank milk and ate cookies, she puttered around the kitchen. Once the cookies were gone, she sat down at the table with him. He remembered the table as if it had all happened yesterday.
The table had a shiny yellow surface, easy to keep clean, she said, and a silver metal edge. Many years later, he found a table like that in a junk shop, bought it, and restored it for his kitchen. That was before Dradon. Before, he had decided that men like Dradon, who thought they were gods, didn't deserve what they had.
He bought the table because it reminded him of the woman's kindness, a shining light in his life, changing everything. By inviting him in and then playing scary music and shrieking at him when he came out the door an hour later, it ensured him a place in his class as a brave boy, despite his weak-looking body and mild exterior.
So when Fred looked at Maya's house, he wasn't afraid. The woman he had met many years before let her house appear that way, so she would be left alone. Her husband had died. With no children to watch over her, she allowed the place to be her shield. Inside it had been warm and pleasant, and the hour he spent with her remained one of the happiest hours of his life.
Even though he hadn't known her, he had intended to do what she asked of him as she leaned over and kissed the top of his head and whispered, "Be a good boy, Fred."
But then life happened, and instead of being a good boy, he learned how to be a bad one. Still, there remained a soft spot in his heart that once in a while gave him trouble because he didn't want to be weak. Seen as weak was one thing. Being weak was an entirely different thing.
Fred parked around the corner and walked back to the house wearing a yellow vest that looked like what the town's maintenance crew wore and a hardhat on his head, carrying a clipboard. The neighborhood could be as nosey as they wanted to be, but they would only notice what he wanted them to see. A non-assuming maintenance guy, checking on a house.
The closer he got to the house, the more he smiled to himself, thinking that Ginny and her mother had done a great job of making it look like a haunted and neglected home. Bushes grew past the windows, the yard filled with weeds. Unattended rose bushes with thorns made it almost impossible to get up the tiny sidewalk to the door.
Although he knew no one was home, he knocked and stood patiently waiting, the clipboard hiding him as he unlocked the door. As he opened the door, he waved his hand in greeting, knowing that by doing so, nosey neighbors would assume someone asked him to come inside.
Fred stepped in and then turned behind the door, so it appeared as if someone else shut the door behind him. He shook his head as he looked at the interior of the home. He expected it to resemble the woman's home from his past. Warm and cozy inside, not at all falling apart, like the outside.
This house wasn't falling apart exactly, but it wasn't cozy and warm either. He glimpsed himself in the cracked mirror in the hallway and stared at the man he saw there. Yes, he looked exactly how he wanted to appear--unassuming, but confident and competent. He laid the clipboard down on the floor by the door, along with his hard hat, took out his phone, and started through the house.
Dradon ordered him to take pictures, so he did. It was an unwelcoming, impersonal space. Tidy, but not comfortable. He half expected to find an old yellow table in the kitchen, but the table that was there was only a beat-up wood table, looking as if it came from a junk pile or maybe was rescued from the side of the street before the trash men came.
Fred paused to take in the feeling of the house. Nothing. It felt like a shell or a facade. It was only in Ginny's room that he found a hint of life. A plant grew by the window. The walls were freshly painted a shade of blue, and her bed was covered with a multicolored quilt. Books were stacked on the side table, and a reading lamp hung over the bed. It was easy to see how Ginny spent her nights.
