“Mitchell poured juice into my shoe again.”
Juice, compliments of Mitchell Prather, Brooke’s little brother. Two down, one to go.
Brooke’s mom, a beautiful African American woman with a stylishly spiked do, stepped out of the kitchen. Wiping her hands on a towel, she gave Mitchell a withering look. “Mitch, if you can’t behave yourself, I’ll send you upstairs and you’ll miss the party.”
“No!” he shouted, his voice edged with the fear of someone facing certain death. His short legs dangled off the chair. He crossed them at the ankles, locking his feet together, and folded his hands in his lap. “I won’t do it again. I promise.”
Brooklyn’s dad chuckled and scooped her little brother into his arms. Mr. Prather was like a sand-
colored stick wearing a polo shirt. Tall and slim with pale skin and sandy-colored hair, he was so opposite Brooke’s tiny, dark mom that, when I first met Brooke, it had taken some time for me to realize they were married. Then I started noticing little things about them. About their relationship. How her dad doted on her mom. How her mom ordered her dad around. Oh, yeah. They were definitely married.
“There’s someone here to see your sister,” Mr. Prather said. His eyes sparkled with mischief when he indicated someone behind Brooklyn with a nod.
At her dad’s beckoning, Brooklyn glanced over her shoulder and screeched, “Uncle Henry!” She jumped up and ran into a man’s arms just as a bright light flashed in my eyes. And just like last time, the image ended when the picture was taken.
I blinked back to the present, my entire body tingling with wonder.
“Maybe you’re still concentrating too hard. You need to loosen up.” She wiggled her shoulders to demonstrate. “Be a loosey-goosey.”
“It was your uncle Henry,” I said, astonishment softening my voice. “You were so happy to see him even though your brother had poured juice in your shoe.”
With the slow movements of shock, Brooklyn turned and gaped at me. After a long moment, she asked, “What happened to him? To my uncle?”
The emotion roiling in her eyes wrenched me back to my senses, and I realized who that man was. He was
The last time he’d called, he was living in a shelter in South Texas. He’d asked her mom for money and then disappeared. Her mom called the shelter, trying to find him, but they said he’d never gone back.
She called the police, but they didn’t have anything on him. She called every law enforcement agency in
Texas and New Mexico, to no avail.
“You have to go back,” she said, her voice rising an octave. She grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my flesh. “You have to touch him and tell me where he is.”
“Brooke, I can’t touch anyone. I can only see what’s going on. It’s like I’m not even there, which I’m not.”
“But you could try. You didn’t try.” She jabbed the picture with an index finger. “Just go back through and touch him.”
“Okay, I’ll try, but I don’t think this works like that.”
“No, I know. It’s okay. Just try.”
But by then, I was too flustered. I couldn’t get past the curtain again. It was more like a vault door that required a retinal scan and DNA sample. Maybe once I’d entered a picture, I couldn’t go into it again.
Despite the failure of every subsequent attempt, I kept trying, over and over, until the bell rang. I shook my head apologetically and handed back the picture. “I’m sorry.”
She took it with a disappointed frown.
We stood to gather our stuff and she hesitated, biting her lip in thought. “I’m so sorry, Lor. I didn’t mean to freak out on you. This is all just so incredible.”
“No apology necessary. I know what your uncle means to you.” We walked past Ms. Phipps, who was still sitting in the exact same position. “Do you think she’s dead?” I asked.
“If so, we’ll be blamed. We get in enough trouble as it is. Let’s get out of here before the homicide detectives come.” When we reached the hall, Brooke continued her apology. “I am so sorry again. I kind of lost it.”
“Brooke,” I said, wrapping an arm in hers, “that’s completely understandable. I wish I could tell you where your uncle is.”
“This is all just amazing. I mean, I never imagined. We have to tell your grandparents.”
“No! I mean, no,” I said, a little quieter. “Let’s wait awhile, okay?”
The admonishing look she leveled on me could have crumbled a hardened criminal. But I was neither a criminal nor hard. I was kind of squishy, in fact. “Lor, you have to get over what they did sometime. They might be able to explain this.”
“It’s just, I want to explore it a bit first.” I stopped and turned toward her.
“Your grandparents might be able to help.”
“It’s not just them. Everyone has so much faith in me. There’s so much riding on my ability. I don’t want to give anyone more hope than they already have. We still have no real idea of what is going on. Of what’s going to happen. Why throw this into the mix? Get everyone all excited for no reason?”
She bunched a dimpled cheek. “I guess I can understand that. They do have some pretty high hopes for you, with that whole saving-the-world thing and all. It will suck if you fail. No pressure, or anything.”
“Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
Cameron was waiting for us outside as usual, and we met up with Glitch in the parking lot. He had to go help his dad with some technical thing that I didn’t care about, but he promised to be back later.
Whatever. I hurried everyone else all along, craving to see if Jared had made it back to his apartment. But after all the pushing and shoving and stuffing bodies into vehicles, I was disappointed yet again.
The skies had turned dark gray, and clouds roiled as I knocked on Jared’s wooden front door. Peeked in through his multipaned windows. The small apartment my grandparents had provided him stood empty, just as it had been the last fifty times I checked it. I didn’t want to alert my grandparents to his disappearance. They’d ship me off for sure. And the last thing I wanted was to leave Riley’s Switch with
Jared still missing.
“Can I talk to you, pix?” Grandma called out to me. We’d entered through the back as usual and I was hoping to avoid her. I frowned at Brooke to announce my reluctance, then plopped my backpack on the stairs and walked through the house to the store, bracing myself for whatever may come.
The cash register sang its familiar tune, announcing a sale. “Have a good day,” Grandma said. She smiled at Mr. Pena as he left before turning to me. “How are you?”
I grabbed a bar of soap to examine it and lifted a shoulder. “I have homework.”
Disappointment lined her face. “Granddad’s at the church. He was asking about Azrael.”
“It’s Jared, Grandma,” I said, adding an edge to my voice. “It’s just Jared now.”
“Pix.” Grandma rounded the counter and put a hand on my shoulder.
I stiffened, but didn’t step away from her. It was the weirdest feeling, being at odds with my grandparents. It had never happened before. I’d been mad at them before for some perceived infraction, but our relationship never sank to this level of pain and resentment. And it wasn’t just about Jared. It was everything. Everything they hadn’t told me. Every secret they’d kept and every lie they’d lived. And now they were planning to ship me off without even consulting me? Without asking what I wanted?
“We can’t begin to express our gratitude where he is concerned. It’s not as though we don’t want him here.”
For some reason, I asked, “Then what is it?” I didn’t want to have this conversation. As infantile as it sounded, I didn’t want to forgive them just yet, and having a heart-to-heart would only lead me closer to that end.
“We’re just … we’re worried. That’s all. He’s so much more dangerous than you can imagine.”
