The man’s behavior floored me. Based on Cameron’s personality, which was mostly angry with a side of angry, I’d expected an ogre. Possibly an abuser. Instead I found a charming, sincere, hardworking gentleman.
I cleared my throat. “So, can I ask what you meant?”
“I figured you might.” He put his unopened beer on a side table, apparently unwilling to drink in front of us. “He’s been on this mission for several days now. He does that from time to time. Told me he was watching you.”
“Yes,” I said, “he was. But do you know why?”
“Kind of. But I don’t see the things he sees. And I’m all the happier for it.”
The things he sees? My chest tightened with hope. Finally, I might get some answers.
“I don’t have any answers, though, if that’s why you’ve come.”
Just as quickly, my hopes plummeted.
He seemed to pick up on my distress. Leaning forward, he looked at me like he understood how I felt. “I’m sorry I don’t know more,” he said quietly. “I’d help you if I could. Heck, I’d help the kid if I could. He doesn’t let me in much. Never has.”
“Why?” Brooklyn asked as though desperate for answers herself. “Why is he so … well, he’s just so—”
“Bullheaded?” he asked.
“Yes!”
He shook his head, unfazed by Brooklyn’s zeal. “Been like that since his mom passed away. Stubborn as the day is long.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said, regret softening my voice, “about your wife.”
“And I’m sorry about your mom and dad,” he said. “I knew them both.”
I gasped softly in surprise. “You knew my parents?”
“Sure did. I used to work at the railroad with your dad. Hard man to please, that one. But fair. Your mom kept his britches pulled up tight. She was a firecracker.” He beamed at me. “Just like you, from what I hear.”
I couldn’t help the proud smile that spread across my face. Or the lump that suddenly formed in my throat. I swallowed hard. “I only remember them a little.”
“Naturally. You were a young one when all that happened.”
“How old was Cameron when your wife passed away?”
A sadness clouded his eyes, and I regretted the question the instant I asked it, wished I could take it back. But he didn’t seem to notice.
“He was two, almost three. He saw it even then. Saw it come for her, take her.”
I froze and something squeezed tight around my chest. “What did he see?” I asked, my voice barely audible.
He looked up. “Are you sure you don’t know?”
Glitch passed me the soda, then sat back and crossed his arms over his chest as though refusing to listen. I took a quick swig, the acidic fizz of orange soda making my eyes water. After a moment—and a light cough—I answered, “Mr. Lusk, I don’t know anything right now, other than the fact that I don’t know anything.”
An understanding smile spread across his face. “Please, call me David. And that would put us in the same boat. I only know bits and pieces, the parts the kid yells out in his sleep. I learned a long time ago not to ask questions.”
“He yells in his sleep?” Brooklyn asked, her face a picture of concern, and I suddenly realized how much she cared for him. I couldn’t believe I didn’t pick up on it before. I couldn’t believe she didn’t tell me. And I couldn’t believe the tension that had Glitch grinding his teeth together. Was he jealous of Cameron or just worried about Brooke? We’d been friends for so long, it had never occurred to me that he could have genuine feelings for her.
“Sometimes,” Mr. Lusk said, “yes, he does.”
Brooklyn sank back against the cushions.
“Mr. Lusk,” I said, then corrected when he gave me a teasing glare, “I’m sorry, David, whatever you know, I promise it’s more than we know. Anything you can tell us would help. I’m just trying to understand what’s happening,” I added when I could see he was going to protest.
He leaned back in his chair with a sigh, his dark skin a shadow against the light fabric. After a long moment, he finally said, “He calls it the reaper.”
Brooklyn perked up, but Glitch seemed a thousand miles away. I handed her back the soda then braced my elbows on my knees as Mr. Lusk spoke.
“Says it’s enshrouded in darkness,” he continued, staring into the fire in thought, “and that it comes to take people before their time. For some reason he can see it, could always see it, among other things. His mother said he had a special gift. She believed him even when he was two, when we were at a restaurant in Albuquerque and he told her there was a dead woman sitting in the booth next to us.”
My breath caught with the image, but I forced myself not to react, not to show Mr. Lusk how much the mere thought of that statement disturbed me. “You didn’t believe him?” I asked softly, changing the subject, so to speak.
“Not at the time.” He seemed to regret that. “But his mother knew. She tried to tell me. It was all just so hard to swallow.”
“He’s really strong,” Glitch said, his expression venomous. “Is that part of his gift?”
If Mr. Lusk picked up on Glitch’s disrespect, he didn’t show it. “I suppose.” He lifted his shoulders in a half shrug. “Don’t really know for sure. Kid’s darned near indestructible. Always has been. His mom told him it was our little secret. She thought if people found out, they would begin to ask questions, maybe even take him away from us.”