Dreamscape (22 page)

“So, do you have any clue to what’s going on?”

Shaking his head, Jeffrey pondered the story. “I only have an outsider’s view. I do remember the few times Rick mentioned Ramona was under the weather, but nothing like the night he died. She ended up in the hospital. The doctors thought for sure she’d lose the baby.”

“Rick, did he talk about being drawn to a place? Like going on autopilot?”

“What do you mean?”

“Last night, the best way I can describe it is being pulled. I drove without as much as one wrong turn. I knew exactly where Dr. Lewis was to be found. How? What happened to him?”

“Slow down, Doug. I’m afraid I’m not going to be much help. I have no clue on what you’re describing. The only thing I remember is being told where to go by Rick. He used to call me up. ‘Got another one,’ he’d say. You’ll have to ask Ramona.”

“That’s another thing, Jeffrey. What exactly do we know about Ramona?”

* * * *

Night had fallen, once again leaving Thorpe sitting quietly watching a sleeping Ramona. A weight seemed to have lifted from her face. She looked lovely. An innocence surrounded her, dissipating her invisible barrier.

He watched over her for the night. He’d offered so Leila could stay over at the Dills’s. He didn’t have work in the morning anyway. Norah and Jeffrey would take over after he left tomorrow. Miriam had opted to take care of Leila after school. Jeffrey had expressed his concern that Ramona wouldn’t be happy with them calling on Miriam for help. Thorpe didn’t care. He had more than that to worry about. He still didn’t have any answers, except he felt whatever happened Ramona had been in the middle of it. Jeffrey’s information hadn’t cleared up the mystery.

“When I first met Ramona, it was her smile that I noticed. A beautiful, inviting smile. She doesn’t smile much anymore. Regarding Rick and Ramona, the word cocky comes to mind. She’d tell him where to go, and he’d go without question. Who wouldn’t? Made him look real good. It wasn’t until the end, after Ramona became pregnant, the trouble began. I’m not sure what it was. I know that it was Ramona who hesitated about getting married. Then that terrible night occurred, although even before that the cases had changed.”

Jeffrey thought before he answered. “Ramona’s never said. I’ve never asked. In all the years I’ve known her, I don’t believe she’s been in contact with any family that I know of. But….” He hesitated. “But Rick did mention she was from Mississippi. Called her his ‘Mississippi Girl’. Said something about the tri-state line.”

Not much, but Thorpe called Jackson with the information. Bogged down in his search for DeNair and having no luck, Jackson seemed interested, said he’d look into it.

“I’ve talked to the doctors about Lewis,” Jackson said, his voice clear down the line. “It doesn’t look good. They’re not expecting him to last the night. His family has been told that if they want to see him they’d better make it soon.”

“What’s your take on this, Jackson?”

“I’m going to call Sam as soon as we hang up. Hang on. I’ll get back with you.”

Thorpe had spent the entire day at Ramona’s. As soon as Jeffrey left he explored the condo with Ramona sleeping on the couch. He half expected to find evidence of voodoo or black arts. No red flags, though. All relatively normal.

He’d walked into Leila’s bright, cheerful room. The pink paint proliferated a typical little girl’s room, pink everywhere: curtains, bedspread, carpet. The bed wasn’t made. Pajamas lay on the floor. Stuffed animals abounded. On her bedside drawers sat a picture of her father sitting on the side of a sail boat with his slap-silly grin. The wind had blown his sandy brown hair back. God, he’d forgotten how much Rick loved the water. On her dresser posed the eight-by-ten of Rick in his dress uniform, the one Miriam had given her.

Across the hall was Ramona’s room. Carefully, he went through it, a neutral room, not one personal statement of her personality. Pictures of Leila lined the beige-painted walls, as an infant, toddler, at dance class. Leila always had a smile plastered on her face. Nothing out of the ordinary. He quietly went through her drawers. No personal letters, nothing that would give insight to the woman asleep on the couch. The odd thing about her room, there were no pictures of her or Rick.

A Bible sat under her lamp on the nightstand. He casually flipped through it. A picture fell out, Rick and Ramona joyfully happy staring back at him. The sun shone down on them. Ramona looked up at Rick, and Rick returned her gaze, evidence of the love they once shared. He replaced the picture, not sure if it had marked a certain spot or not.

His phone rang. Answering it, he started back down the stairs, not wanting to get caught without an explanation of his snooping. He quickly checked in on Ramona. She still slept soundly.

“Yeah, Jackson. I’m here.”

“I just got word Lewis died. Said his heart gave out. Natural causes.” Jackson paused. Another phone rang in the background. “We’re trying to find out exactly what these dream walkers are rumored to be able to do. Nothing solid as of yet. As for where Ramona came from, we had a bit more luck. Sam has a connection in that area. Found a birth certificate in the tri-state area for a Ramona Damsun Carver. Her mother was Leila Damsun, married to Leonard Carver. It has to be her. At the moment, the only other information is that the Carvers are a prominent family in the region. Should have more information later.”

He almost laughed out loud. “I don’t know, Ramona. Last night I woke up out of a sound sleep, sleep that I’d induced with my friend Jack Daniels, I might add. Intact with all my senses, I woke with only one thought. I ended up at Dr. Lewis’s.”

She glanced up at the ceiling. Thorpe read her face and guessed her instincts kicked in to hold back. Her fingers touched her bump again as if shielding herself from his roving eyes. He reached over and squeezed her free hand, his manner reassuring, a one-hundred-and-eighty turn from his approach that morning. Surprised at first, she drew back, but he didn’t let go. She looked into his eyes, her own swelling with tears.

“Enough of this, Ramona. Tell me. Tell me everything.”

* * * *

Ramona started to say “It doesn’t matter” but she saw the look on his face and the blatant lies readied on her lips dissipated. She stared into his eyes. All the years of running, hiding from the truth within her had to be faced. The walls she had erected for protection for herself, Leila, but mainly innocent people who had been hurt by knowing her, were about to come crashing down. Words her grandmother spoke echoed: “Everyone has a destiny that has to be met and will be whether we are ready or not.”

She turned her face away from his prying eyes. “My home, the place I was born and raised, was a small community in the northeastern part of Mississippi. A place called Marian. Nothing out of the ordinary, I can assure you. A quiet, lovely area. Time passes at a different pace, a simpler lifestyle. A place where everyone met at the Friday night football game and Sundays were for church and Sunday dinners. Everyone knows everyone’s business because everyone knows everyone. A perfect place to raise a child. I loved my home, a home I can never return to.”

She paused as if collecting her thoughts. She wiped a tear and choked on her words. “I can’t believe I’m feeling sorry for myself. I can’t abide that. I don’t have time for that.”

Thorpe’s arms brought her back into him, and he cradled her. She composed herself as best she could. Her defenses had fallen, weakened, tired.

“My parents, I was told, were killed in a car crash when I was five. I don’t remember much about either of them. I was raised by my father’s parents on a large farm with cotton, soybean, cattle, horses. A lake lay behind the house. Grandfather raised catfish in that lake. During the summer, on most Friday nights, he’d have a fish fry for the surrounding neighbors with hush puppies, French fries.”

As she talked, her body relaxed. Her shoulders drooped, and she gave way to a pain she’d bottled up for a long time.

“My grandparents were held in high esteem in the community. Grandfather took pride in that fact. I suppose one would consider them well off. They owned a large home. I lived there with my uncle, aunt, and two cousins. They took care of my physical needs. But from an early age I knew I was different.”

She paused, uncertain, but continued. “My grandfather was a stern man, not one to be questioned and certainly not to be disobeyed. I was a source of irritation to him. More than once I endured his punishment for disobeying his wishes. He used his leather belt. He hung it on the inside of his closet door. Once, my grandmother had to step in between us. If she hadn’t, I believe he’d have killed me.”

She stopped to collect herself. “Grandmother told me, whether right or wrong, Grandfather blamed me for the death of my father. I didn’t understand if he hated me so much why he raised me, not until later.” She shook her head. “It wasn’t all bad. I learned quickly to stay out of Grandfather’s way. I learned I could do things. I could escape within my mind, physically go places. Once it began, it led me to my mother’s family and to the destiny I was born to.”

She turned to face him. “You have questions. All I know is what I’ve been taught. My abilities came with responsibilities. They stem from my ancestors and have to be respected. It has to do with protecting the unsuspecting but also guarding the world’s spirits from down below this world. Demons. Demons do not possess the innocent but can deceive the innocent into becoming a willing victim. There are levels of their abilities.”

“What happened to Rick, Ramona?” Thorpe asked.

Her eyes broke from his gaze. “Simply put, Morse Simpson stabbed him. The more complicated version is that Morse was a pawn in an attempt to get at me. There is one who is searching for me. He desperately wants one of my abilities; one that a dream walker shouldn’t possess. He was the reason I left home. He’s the reason Rick is dead. He’s the reason I hide now, why I wake up in the middle of the night. I know that there will come a time when I face him again. And that time is near.”

She shook her head. “He’s not afraid of my walking. He’s powerful. He’s the heir to the underworld. He uses your desires and then turns them into your worst fears, but he made a mistake that cost him. The mistake allowed me to escape. My grandmother died so that I could live. He followed me. And then Rick did the same. He died to protect me and Leila.”

“What do I have to do with this, Ramona? I know nothing of this world you’re talking about. Why do you need me—or do you?”

“Do you want to hear of a looming danger on the horizon, Doug? It’s looming there, waiting. We should be readied. So much going on….” She held her head in her hands. “My head hurts, Doug. I just don’t know. I don’t know, and that’s what scares me the most.”

Uncontrollably, she began to sob. Thorpe moved his arm over and held her tightly, as if protecting her. She cried, knowing he had more questions. But for the moment, he let her cry.

* * * *

The sound of a key fumbling in a lock woke Thorpe. Startled momentarily, he realized he must have fallen asleep. He still held Ramona in his arms. She stirred, jumping up when Leila bounded in.

Leila stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes hardened with reproach as she caught sight of Thorpe. He edged out of his seat. Ramona sat up, quickly straightening out her hair, her sweatshirt. He smiled and watched Ramona squirm.

Thorpe spun around to face Jeffrey outside the living room door. “She seems better. Leila’s in with her mother, drilling her. She’s not use to seeing her—” Thorpe paused. He’d almost said she wasn’t used to seeing her mother with a man. He didn’t want to seem tactless.