Little Blackbird (13 page)

L
AUGHTER, FLIRTATIOUS AND relaxed, filled the dark space. Smoke fogged the air between them. The burning end of a cigarette flared in the darkness… Heaviness shoved her back against the seat, exhaling the breath from her lungs. She tried to jerk her arms, but they were pinned. She panicked… She hammered her heel against the glass and shouted. Then she screamed and then she cried…

Kate’s eyes opened. Someone’s hands were on her arms, and she flailed free, grasping at her shirt to make sure it was still on before scrambling backward like a crab. Her shoulders slammed into the magnolia tree behind the bench and she stared, gasping, at Matthias, who knelt in the grass.

“Kate,” he said as he reached out his hand toward her, “it’s me.”

A film layered over her vision, and she could still see the roof of a car, a steering wheel popping in and out of view behind a man’s shoulder. She trembled. Matthias touched her arm.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “You’re ice cold.”

She inhaled deeply. Her breath released in broken pieces. “I’m okay.”

“What happened?” He moved to sit down next to her.

“I just–too hot,” she said. She closed her eyes, but as soon as she did, she saw the red flare of a burning cigarette dropping onto her chest. Her back stiffened, and her eyes jerked open. She touched her collarbone, feeling the ghost of a burn singeing her skin.

“Kate…I know that isn’t true,” Matthias said.

She swallowed. “It doesn’t matter. Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”

Matthias sighed and turned toward her. “Would it be so bad to tell me the truth?”

Kate made the mistake of looking at him. His pale eyes captured her, pulled her in, and she wanted so badly to tell him everything. A voice in her head cooed,
Trust him
. “Yes.”

He frowned. “Why?”

She shook her head. “Because…” She forced herself to look away. She opened her palm and stared at the lines marking how much time she had left with Geoffrey. What if telling Matthias the truth took away some of her days with Geoffrey? What if he told his brother how crazy she was and told Geoffrey to stop seeing her? Would Geoffrey even do that if he knew the truth? Her shoulders sagged. “You won’t believe me, and if you do, you’ll think I’m crazy.”

“Have a little faith in me.”

“I don’t even know you,” Kate said. She pushed herself off the grass and walked to the bench. She plopped down and grabbed the box of cookies.

“Evan knew me well, and he trusted me. He told me everything.” Matthias stood and followed her. “You can trust me too.” He sat down on the opposite end of the bench, putting plenty of space between them. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Kate smoothed her hands over the top of the pink box. She shrugged. “Not that it matters if you do think I’m crazy. You’d be just like everyone else in town.”

Matthias straightened his shoulders and shook his head. “No one thinks you’re crazy.”

Kate scoffed. “Oh, they don’t?” she asked sarcastically. “Maybe you’re right. Calling me an
Indian witch
isn’t the same as calling me
crazy
.”

“Don’t say that,” Matthias said.

She looked over at him. His jaw was clenched, creating a distinct, square line down the edges of his handsome face. His hands balled into fists in his lap. He seemed genuinely irritated that she’d speak badly about herself.

Her secret pulsed against her chest like a heartbeat. It wanted to be let out. She pressed her lips together and inhaled. Matthias shifted toward her on the bench. On the breeze, Kate caught a whiff of peppermint.

“Geoffrey doesn’t think you’re crazy,” Matthias said.

“Not yet.”

“Kate, come on.”

Her secret chanted,
Tell him, tell him, tell him
. A blackbird swooped down from the magnolia and pecked at the shaded ground at their feet. It lifted its head and watched Kate, tilting its head before flying off.

On an exhale Kate said, “I see things.”

“What do you mean?”

“The future, I guess.” She shrugged. “I have premonitions. I mostly see broken pieces of the future. Imagine putting together a puzzle and then throwing it into the air. When it lands, there are pieces everywhere, scattered all over the place, nothing whole, nothing that seems to connect to anything else. I see those scattered pieces.”

Matthias didn’t respond, and after a few seconds, she glanced at him. He watched her just as the blackbird had, with his head tilted, and she could tell he was thinking.
But thinking what?

He nodded. “I see.”

She hugged the cookie box to her chest. “You don’t believe me.”

“No, I do. I just wasn’t expecting
that
. I don’t have a proper response yet.”

“You think I’m crazy.” She sighed and sagged against the bench, dropping the box onto her thighs.

“No, and stop saying that,” Matthias demanded. He propped his arm on the back of the bench and rested his knee on the seat so he could look directly at her. “What’s it like?”

“Horrible,” Kate blurted. Then she shook her head. “Not always. But recently. I hate them.”

“How do you know it’s the future you’re seeing?”

Kate stared at two blackbirds sitting on the low wall. “Mama told me that my grandma had the same curse–”

“Curse?” Matthias’ frown deepened.

“You can’t possibly think it’s a blessing, can you?” she asked sarcastically.

“I think it’s remarkable.”

“That’s because
you
don’t have it. Anyway, Mama told me it was the future I’d see. Sometimes weeks later, a small piece of my premonition might make sense. I see a ladder fall and hear a man shout. A week or two later, I’ll learn that Mr. So-and-So fell off his ladder and broke his leg.” Kate shrugged. “But it’s not always that easy. Most of them are jumbled up. Plus, people can change their futures every minute, and what I see might not always be the real future.”

“Do you see people you know?”

Kate cut her eyes over to him, but didn’t look up at his face. “Yeah. I saw Evan–” She gripped the cookie box and her stomach felt hollow. “I knew. But Mama said people like me can’t do anything about the future. We can’t change it or even try to. So I–” Her throat closed.

Matthias reached over and touched her hand. She looked down and saw she was crushing the corners of the cookie box, so she released her grip and exhaled a held breath.

“It’s not your fault,” he said.

Kate closed her eyes and pulled in a shuddering breath. “No? I knew it was going to happen, and I let it.”

Kate had never told anyone about her premonitions concerning Evan. She’d been ashamed, afraid, and heartbroken. She could still see the busted car, the splintered windshield, his closed eyes. Every time Evan had come home from college, she’d told him she loved him, but she’d done nothing more. She’d let her brother die.

“Kate.” Matthias’ voice was as gentle as rose petals. “It’s not your fault. Evan wouldn’t want you to carry around that guilt. He thought you hung the moon.”

Kate looked up at him and almost smiled. “He thought I was weird.”

Matthias chuckled. “Was he right?”

Kate laughed unexpectedly and a smile stretched across Matthias’ face. She sat up straighter on the bench and nodded. “Definitely.”

Kate smiled. The breeze passed through the magnolia and loosened a thick, fat leaf the size of Kate’s thigh. It pirouetted through the air until it landed at her feet. She leaned down and picked it up, measuring it against her small hand.

“Is that what happened to you at the park?” he asked.

Kate nodded.

“What did you see just now?”

Bile rose in Kate’s throat. Her grip tightened around the leaf, and her fingers pierced all the way through to the upper cuticle of the leaf. She opened her hand and released it. “I don’t–I’m not sure.” She slid one hand up to her neck. “Darkness. A small space, maybe a car. Someone smoking. Then…” She cleared her throat. “I don’t know.” She exhaled. “Evan knew about my premonitions, but now only my mama knows. We haven’t even told my daddy, and
I’ve
never told anyone before.” She studied Matthias’ face. “What are you thinking?”

“I think I have a lot left to learn about the brain and what it’s capable of.”

A thought stabbed in her mind. Her desperation tumbled out in her words. “
Please
, don’t tell anyone.”
Especially Geoffrey.

Matthias shook his head. “I won’t. I promise.”

“Kate, are you ready?” her daddy called from the entrance of the garden.

Kate looked away from Matthias and at her daddy. “Be right there!” She jumped up from the bench and cradled the box of cookies. “Thanks.”

“For what?” Matthias stood beside her.

“For not thinking I’m crazy.” She gave him a small, uncertain smile.

“Never.”

Kate hurried across the garden toward the gate. She glanced once over her shoulder, and Matthias stood with his hands in his pockets watching her leave. The scent of peppermint drifted on the sticky, summer breeze.

A
S KATE ROUNDED the corner of the last aisle in the hardware store, a box of nails fell from the shelf and scattered across the floor. She sighed but knelt down and scooped the nails into a pile. Then she arranged them back into their box. Kate stood and reached out to return the box, but she noticed everything on the entire shelf trembled. Tiny tremors rushed up and down the shelves in waves, rattling nuts and bolts, causing hammers to sway on their hooks. Kate backed away from the unit and bumped into someone. She whirled around.

“Geoffrey,” she said on an exhale.

“I saw your dad.” Geoffrey smirked at her. “He’s near the front talking to Mr. Perkins.”

He pushed her against the shelves, and the entire shelving unit felt as though it quaked at her back, more and more violently. Then he kissed her. Kate’s body moved toward his, pressing against him, like two water droplets becoming one. So familiar now was the need she felt for him, the desperate ache when he was gone. She locked their hands together, holding him near, needing to feel him closer and closer.

A tool down the aisle crashed onto the floor. Geoffrey pulled away at the sound, and the fog in Kate’s brain shifted. She used the space between them to bring up her hands and push him away.

“My daddy is in here,” she whispered with wide eyes and a madly pumping heart. She pressed her hand against her chest.

Geoffrey leaned toward her again. “So?” he said against her lips.

Shoes clicked against the tiles with fast, staccato beats. “Geoff–oh, oh, sorry.”

Geoffrey stopped kissing her, and Kate looked at Martha Lee standing at the end of the aisle gaping at them, her pink lips open like a Venus Fly Trap. Geoffrey shoved one hand through his hair and grinned.

“Martha, hey,” he said, “how’re you?”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Martha said. Her cheeks tinged deep rouge. She smoothed her hands down her floral patterned dress. When she looked at Kate, her brows joined together at the top of her nose as though squinting might help her see the situation clearer.

“You weren’t,” Geoffrey said. “I was just saying hello to Kate.”

Kate’s heart slammed against her ribcage so hard that she bent forward in the violent rush of blood through her body.

Martha pursed her lips. “Is that what that was?”

An entire row of monkey wrenches at the opposite end of the aisle fell from their hangers. The crash echoed throughout the store. Kate stared at the tools, trembling as though she’d been standing in the winter snow too long without a jacket. She had to get herself under control before the whole store decided to collapse.

“What in the world is going on here?” Mr. Perkins, the owner of the store, asked. He hooked his thumbs behind his red suspenders and frowned at them.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Perkins,” Geoffrey said as he stepped forward, “I’m not sure what happened, but the wrenches just fell. Maybe their hangers weren’t properly installed.” He walked toward the wrenches and began picking them up. “It’s the strangest thing. I can help you tighten down the screws if you want.”

Geoffrey smiled at Mr. Perkins, and Kate watched the owner’s face soften.

“Maybe I do need to tighten down the screws on those hangers,” Mr. Perkins said, gathering wrenches in his beefy arms.