Death, and the Girl He Loves

A round of nervous laughter filled the area as Grandma sat beside me. She took my face into her hands. “Lorelei. Oh, heavens, Lorelei.” She kissed both of my cheeks and my mouth before placing the cup at my lips again.

“What happened?” I asked after taking another sip.

Sirens filtered down the stairs.

“You had a seizure,” Brooklyn said, her voice soft, her face pale. “Let’s not do that anymore, okay?”

I saw Glitch then. He was crouching down in a corner, his arms crossed over his chest. Kenya was close by him.

“I guess going into drawings is different than going into pictures. But I’m fine,” I said, glancing from one person to another until my gaze landed on Granddad’s. “I don’t need an ambulance.”

Grandma felt my cheeks as though checking for a fever. “That was the scariest thing I’ve ever seen,” she said, her eyes bright with moisture.

“Really?” I asked, feeling an odd sense of mirth. “That’s what you said when that bear got into the store that one time.”

She closed her eyes in relief. “That was scary. This was horrifying.”

“Wait, why? Did I look bad?” My hand shot to my mouth. “Did I drool?”

Glitch hurried up the steps then right back down, ushering an EMT into the room. He took one look at us, probably took in the fact that we were in a nondenominational church, and frowned. “What’s going on?” he asked as he walked over to my side.

Before I could answer, Kenya said, “Well, McAlister here was having a seizure, and instead of taking her to the hospital, we decided to pray over her until she was healed.” She beamed at me. “It totally worked!”

I laughed, but Granddad didn’t seem to find it amusing. He raked a hand down his face as Sheriff Villanueva burst into the room, summed up the situation with a once-over, then took the EMT aside to assure him my family was not risking my welfare by refusing to take me to the hospital.

“We’re the ones who called you,” Granddad said.

I patted his arm and stood to convince the EMT I was okay. Or, well, I attempted to stand. Jared stood first to help me to my wobbly feet. “I’m fine,” I said to the man as his partner walked into the room. “I wasn’t feeling well, so I lay down and they called you. I’m sorry, but I’m okay now. Really. I did not have a seizure.”

“The hell you didn’t,” Cameron said.

I ground my teeth and glared at him. “I’m fine and we—” I circled my index finger around the room, indicating all those present. “—need to talk.”

“About what?” he asked, challenging me.

Did they really not understand a word I said earlier? Fine. They brought this on themselves. “About the fact that I recognized the man who opened the gates of hell ten years ago.”

Everyone stilled. Even the EMTs.

Mac recovered first. “Kids,” he said to the men, shaking his head in a helpless gesture. “The things that come out of their mouths.”

Granddad was next. “Yes, and we’re sorry about this. She’s better.”

“Yeah,” Brooklyn said. “This kind of thing happens all the time. She has these mental issues.”

“Brooke!”

“What?” she asked, pressing her mouth together. “Like you don’t.”

“Like you don’t.”

“Not as bad as you.”

“Puh-lease.”

“Girls,” Grandma said. “Is this really the time?”

We started to argue. We were quite in the moment, but when we saw Grandma’s expression, the one urging us to focus on what was important, we glanced at each other, and then, as dutiful granddaughters should, we hung our heads in shame.

“Sorry,” I said, punching Brooke on the arm.

She elbowed me back. It felt good, horsing around with her again. It had been too long. But Grandma was right. We needed to focus on the important issues at the moment. Not the fact that I wanted to horse around with my best friend.

“I guess we’re done here,” the EMT said. He gave me a warning glare before turning to leave.

“These people are freaks,” his partner said as they ascended the stairs. “All the crap going on in this town is bringing out the crazies.”

Brooke jammed her fists onto her hips. “That was rude.”

“Completely,” I agreed. “And really? Mental issues?”

She tossed me a saucy smirk as Jared helped me sit down before I collapsed. Whatever happened had sapped my energy, but his grip was sure, strong. I found myself wanting to collapse against him again. I liked being collapsed against him.

The sheriff came back in after seeing the EMTs out. He pulled up a chair and everyone sat back down.

“Okay, Pix,” Granddad said, “what did you see?”

I lowered my head. “I didn’t see Mom and Dad. I really wanted to, but I arrived in the scene after they were already gone.”

Jared had sat back on the cot with me and had pulled me against him and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. My sudden weakness was a great excuse for him to do so. He offered me a consoling squeeze.

“But you were there?” Grandma asked, still in awe of the whole thing.

“I was. I went inside a drawing.”

“But again,” Brooke said, “I vote we don’t do that anymore, for the record.”

I wanted to laugh out loud. Brooke. The one who’d been pushing me relentlessly ever since we found out about my gift, and here she was voting it down. I owed it to myself to retaliate. I didn’t need my gift to tell me she was going to get a whole lot of ribbing in her near future.