Foretell (5 page)

Rex turned up his hands in exasperation. “Are you really going to let her bring the mutt, Gabe?”

Ouch. He was attempting to reel in the opposition by using dirty tactics.

“It’s not the greatest idea,” Gabe allowed.

I frowned now, glancing at Abby’s hopeful little face. I couldn’t just leave her here. My mother would forget Abby existed and she’d end up starving her to death.

“However,” Gabe spoke again, surprising me. “If it brings the girl comfort, I don’t see any harm in letting her bring her pet.”

Yes! Score one point for Essie. “Looks like you’re outnumbered,” I said to Rex, flashing him a victorious smile. “Abby and I will take the back seat.”

The dog ran into my arms and I climbed into the SUV with her in tow. Rex rolled his eyes and mumbled something I couldn’t understand. I was pretty sure I didn’t want to hear it anyway being that he was probably cursing me out. Whatever. I wouldn’t let him bother me.

We drove away from my house, through the darkened streets of my quiet neighborhood. I peered out of the window, trying to catch my last glimpses of home. It was harder than I imagined it would be, leaving everything behind.

Earlier I’d gone through my room in something akin to a trance, running my fingers along the walls, my bed, the desk where I’d spent so many hours studying and writing on my blog. I said goodbye to my window seat, hugging one of my favorite pillows close to me. I’d sat on those cushions a countless number of times, staring out into the neighborhood, wondering what was out there in the world. Looked like I’d actually find out now.

My bedroom had been my protective cage for so many years. It was surreal finally being free of it.

I packed quickly, just a few articles of clothing, my cell phone, cell phone charger and some toiletries. A pair of diamond earrings sparkled from the top of my dresser. I picked them up, clasping them to my ears. They used to belong to Indie, but she’d given them to me as a birthday present, after buying herself a new set with more carats.

I scanned the room, sorting through the rest of my belongings. I hadn’t been sure what one was supposed to bring when escaping with a band of gypsies.

What would I miss in here?
I silently wondered.

A painting on the wall caught my eye. A woman with red hair chased butterflies along a beach shore. I didn’t know what it was about that painting. There was something so ethereal, so serene and beautiful, I had to have it. It was the only thing I’d ever purchased for myself. I spent a fortune on it, (apparently the painting was really, really old) but I didn’t care.

The painting was too big to stuff in my little duffel bag. I had to leave it behind.
A shame, too.
My mother would likely toss it out.

I diligently finished
packing,
trying not to reflect on the things I would miss. They were just things, after all.

I jotted off a quick note to my mom. I hadn’t allowed myself a long time to overanalyze it. If I had, I would’ve been spent hours writing. Instead it was short, simple and to the point.

Mom,

I’m going on a spontaneous trip. I don’t know when I’ll be back.

Please don’t worry. I’m fine. I’ll call as soon as I can.

Love,

Essie

“You okay, Estelle?" Lola’s eyes met mine in the rearview mirror.

“I’m fine,” I said, forcing a smile.

I wasn’t fine.

If everything they said was true and I was genuinely a descendent of gypsies, then I must really suck at it. I’d been a recluse almost my entire life. I didn’t know how to exist outside of my little bubble.

“By the way, I meant to ask you something. Why did you call me Sarah when we first met?”

“Serena,” Lola corrected. “It was the name I knew you by.”

“When was that?”

“My memories are still fuzzy, but I’d guess somewhere in the early eighteen hundreds.”

I saw her smile at me in the reflection of the mirror. “I knew you like I knew my own family.”

I contemplated on that, wondering about my past self, or rather past selves. I wondered what I was like, what kind of gypsy I used to be. It was weird knowing I’d lived lives outside of this one. I was probably someone who traveled and saw most of the world not constricted by the confines of a house.
That
girl must have loved life. I bet she was carefree, fiercely independent,
confident
of herself.

She must have been amazing.

We arrived at Union Station within the hour, mostly thanks to Gabe speeding the entire way. I found it ironic after hearing him mention he was a cop.

The place was empty, lifeless, not exactly how I imagined it to be. The architecture was intriguing though.
A mixture of Spanish and Moorish designs on the outside with renovated, modern fixtures on the inside.

Rex retrieved our tickets while the rest of us waited in the lobby. I fidgeted anxiously the entire time.

“Why don’t we just keep on driving?” I asked Lola, assuming it would be just as fast.
Probably faster, actually.

“None of us can know where we’re headed,” she explained. “Lina gave Rex her location earlier. He’s buying the tickets because his thoughts can’t be traced.”

“But won’t the destination be printed on the tickets?” I asked. “And won’t there be signs near our platform? For that matter, won’t someone make an announcement?”

“Don’t look and don’t listen,” she suggested, shrugging.

I was not subdued by her advice.
At all.

I presented her with a look that said, “
Your plan seems ridiculous
”.

“If it happens, it happens. Just try not to pay attention.”

“I don’t know, Lola. It sounds a little farfetched for me to believe we can ride this train the entire way without knowing where we’re going.”

Rex walked up from behind, catching the last part of our conversation. “Any distance we cover without the trackers knowing will be worth it.”

Lola agreed with him, adding, “Make sure you plug yourself in when we board. They typically make an announcement before departing. Did you bring headphones?”

I nodded and opened the front pocket flap of my bag to find them.

“Good. Keep your music on till we’re moving and follow Rex’s lead.”

Right. Keep my music on. Follow Rex’s lead.

Why did it feel as if this was bound to be a disaster?

As I stood up, Rex moved to grab my bag. I yanked it away from him.

“I wasn’t trying to steal your stuff,” he said, narrowing his eyes in my direction. I realized then that he was only trying to carry it for me.

“Oh,” I mumbled awkwardly. “No worries. I got it.” I lugged the strap over my shoulder uncomfortably, waiting for him to move out of the way.

He sighed, shaking his head. Then he nodded towards Abby and said, “The dog has to be crated. She goes into cargo.”

“What? Why?”

“Not my policy, babe. It’s Amtrak’s policy. Unless she’s a service animal, she goes into cargo.”

“Fine,” I agreed, grudgingly. “But stop calling me babe.
My name’s Estelle.
Or Essie, if you prefer.”

He suddenly grabbed my arm, startling me. My eyes widened and I tried to pull away. Abby growled lowly. Ferociously.

“I want to get on this train without you, Lola or Gabe finding out its destination. How do I accomplish that?”

My voice sounded without my permission. “Have us board after seven fifty-two. We’ll miss the announcements. If we keep our heads down, we’ll miss the signs.”

He let me go abruptly. I’d been struggling against him and fell back when he finally released me, losing my balance. I almost tumbled to the ground, but Rex caught me just in time.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “Precautionary measure.”

“Why don’t you try warning me next time?” I snapped, pushing him away.

“The people who are tracking you won’t give you any warning. Consider it a lesson. Maybe next time you’ll move faster.”

It took me a moment to find my voice. I couldn’t believe he just said that.

“I don’t need any damned lessons from you,” I yelled angrily. “You’re not my teacher, you jackass!”

“Hey guys,” Lola pleaded. “Let’s just get to the train, okay?”

I was furious. That bastard abused me. Just like my mother and sister. And here I’d been trying to get away from them, just to be abused by someone else. What was the point?

“If he does that again, I’m done. I’ll leave. Find my own way to run and hide.”

Rex snorted. “Like you’d get very far.”

“He won’t do that again,” Lola promised quickly. She turned to Rex now. “Isn’t that right, Rex?” She’d angrily ground out the question through clenched teeth.

Rex shrugged. Lola stared him down, waiting for his answer. She was losing patience.

“Okay,
okay
,” he finally agreed, grumbling the words.

He walked away, calling over his shoulder for us to keep up. Clearly, he was not the remorseful type.

“Sorry about him,” Gabe offered an apology for his brother. His expression seemed to hold a sweet sincerity. “Want me to beat him up for you?”

“No, it’s okay,” I said, but smiling a little at the thought.

“Probably for the best. It always comes to a draw between us anyway. I’m faster, but he’s broader. His punches feel like bricks smashing into your face and body.”

I laughed. “How many times have you felt these bricks before?”

“Loads, unfortunately,” he admitted. “I can beat him as long as I move quickly, but if Rex gets in a few blows, I’m down for the count.”

“I’m guessing you two have had your fair share of brotherly brawls?”

“There’s nothing
brotherly
about them. He doesn’t fight fairly. And now it seems he’s lost his social skills as well.”

“I can’t imagine him ever having them,” I muttered. I tugged Abby’s leash to let her know it was time to go.

“Oh, he did once. He was a magnificent king.”

“King?” I asked, astounded by the news.

“Yes,” he replied. He stared off into space, absorbed by his old memories. “They called him Noble Stefan in that life. He was willing to fight for what he believed in. No matter the risk, he fought bravely. In those days, he was loved and revered by our people…but that was a very long time ago.”

“Why isn’t he a king now?” I asked curiously. “And why doesn’t he go by Stefan anymore?”

“Long story,” Lola cut in. “We’ll tell you all about it later, but we should get going.”

I wanted to hear more, but didn’t press them for it. We picked up our paces, heading towards the platforms. I inserted the headphones into my ears, turning my music on full blast. I also pulled my hoodie over my head, trying to block out the majority of my peripheral vision. I kept my eyes glued on Rex’s brown leather sneakers, following his footsteps. I wasn’t taking any chances.

Please don’t let me see any signs
, my mind screamed anxiously.

We took Abby to the pet drop-off, keeping our heads lowered while Rex filled out the required paperwork. I stroked Abby’s soft, black fur a few times before she was crated. She whined after I locked her inside.
I heard the whimpers over my music
,
the sound was so pathetic
. “Be a good girl,” I said soothingly. She pawed at her crate and whined louder. I felt awful. Abby already had developed separation anxiety thanks to her time spent at the shelter. I hoped she wouldn’t think she’d been abandoned again.

After Abby was carted away, the four of us headed towards our entrance. Rex’s shoes slowed to a stop as we arrived. I glanced at the time on my phone. It was 7:53. We were safe to board. The announcements would be over.

I looked at no one and nothing when we boarded. I kept my eyes fixed on Rex’s shoes, step by step. Though the lobby had been empty earlier, an increasing number of people flocked to the gates. I tried to keep up with Rex, but somehow lost sight of him in the midst of the crowd. I winced fearfully. My entire body froze, limbs locking into place. My eyes darted over dozens of feet. I panicked, unable to spot Rex’s shoes in the crowd.

Where did he go?

Chucks, heels, sandals, wrong color, too big, too small. Boots, wedges, flip-flops. None of them belonged to Rex. My palms sweated with tension. As more and more time passed, the floor seemed to spiral into a blur of shapes and colors.

A warm hand suddenly grasped my wrist. A familiar pair of brown leather sneakers stood before me, followed by the faint smell of evergreen soap. The hand gently pulled me towards a nearby aisle.

I almost cried out in relief. We made it. I think.

I plopped down on the seat immediately after we entered our room, leaning my head back against the cushion as I let out a deep breath. Gabe and Lola opened the door a few moments later appearing as equally relieved as I was. They stuffed their bags into the overhead, and then Lola sat down next to me in a similar plopping fashion. “I thought we’d never make it,” she said, removing her headphones. “I lost you and Rex in the crowd.”