The Reaping (30 page)

I watched as she opened the store up, turning on the soft overhead lights, raising the gate that covered the large picture window and shuffling back and forth busily behind the cash register.  

Since discovering that my mother was alive, I hadn’t really had the chance to fantasize much about her, what she looked like, where she worked, where she lived.  But somehow, this didn’t fit.  Somehow I expected her to be more…ruthless, I guess.  I mean, if she was the person behind my current predicament then she’d have to be cunning and cruel.  Wouldn’t she? 

A few customers came in early.  She smiled and interacted with them, walking them up and down the aisles of books, searching for what they wanted.  After she checked them out, she walked them to the door.  With my window cracked, I could hear her when the door opened.

“Have a great day and come back soon,” she’d say, her voice like a soothing lullaby, remembered comfort from long ago pouring over me.

As I watched her bustle through the store, I wondered if what she’d done could possibly have been an act of love.  Had she been so devastated by the loss of her children that she reached out in desperation to whatever power would grant her those lives back, consequences be damned—literally?  I mean, I’m the queen of consequences be damned and it-seemed-like-a-good-idea-at-the-time behaviors.  Maybe those flaws are genetically transmitted.

Almost two hours later, I was still working up the courage to go in and talk to her when something occurred to me.  Out of the clear blue, my gut told me that Leah was in trouble. 

I diverted my attention from my mother to the strange notion.  I was wondering whether or not I should just write it off as some kind of neural misfire when it happened again, like a persistent gnawing at my insides.

I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Leah’s number.  No one answered so I left a message.

“This is Carson.  Just looking for Leah.  If you could have her call me, I’d appreciate it.  Thanks,” I said and then hung up.  Less than a minute later, it occurred to me that she didn’t have my cell phone number so I called back and left that on the answering machine as well.  Then I sat back to think. 

My mind rationalized that it
was
Christmas Eve after all.  Maybe Leah and her family had gone out of town or were just busy with last minute preparations or shopping.  I decided to just wait and see if Leah called in the next couple of hours.  If she didn’t, I’d try again and then go from there.

I rearranged my limbs into a more comfortable position and tried to concentrate on my mother once again.  But now Leah was on my brain, that gnawing sensation growing stronger and stronger.  Then my phone rang.  Leah’s number showed up on the caller id.  Relieved, I answered.

“Where are you?” I said without preamble.

“Carson, this is Dina.”

“Oh, hi, Mrs. Kirby.  Is Leah there?”

“We were hoping that she was with you.”

“What do you mean?  I’ve been out of town.  I’m, uh, I’m visiting relatives in Ohio.”

I heard a heavy sigh on the other end of the line.  “Leah and Ryan broke up and she left this morning.  She said she was going for a walk, but that was hours ago and now we can’t find her.  Bruce and I just got back from driving around the neighborhood and the park looking for her.”

The gnawing stepped up to a jittery feeling of urgency.  “Did you check the library?”  Sadly, that was Leah’s favorite place.

“They’re closed for the holidays.  Can you think of anywhere else she might go?”

I really couldn’t.  “No, but I’m coming home.  Will you call me if you hear from her?  And I’ll do the same.”

“Alright.”

“I’ll come to your house as soon as I get there.”

“Thanks, Carson.  We appreciate it.”

“No problem, Mrs. Kirby.”

I was already going back through my trip, plotting out shortcuts, planning on speeding and making as few stops as possible.

********

After quickly collecting my things from the hotel and checking out, my trip sped along even better than I anticipated.  I was well in to West Virginia when I saw that my gas gauge was almost empty again, so when I saw a sign for a convenience store with a sub shop inside, I took that exit.

I was sitting in the car munching on my meatball sub when I saw Leah run by just beyond the hood.  I doubted my eyes for a second, squeezing them shut before looking down at my sandwich, wondering what they’d put in the meatballs.  But when I looked back up, I could still see her.

I could tell her pants were pale in color, but I couldn’t make out much more detail; she was shrouded in shadow.  As she scrambled, I could see that her usually curly hair was stuck to her cheeks, water dripping from the ends.  She stopped, chest heaving, and leaned back against a tree.  I could barely see the two black letters DC burned into its bark above Leah’s head. 

I got out of the car, one foot still on the floorboard inside, and stood behind the open door.  “Leah?” I said hesitantly.  It was no surprise that she didn’t acknowledge me.  Though I didn’t really know what was going on, after yesterday, I felt sure that these “visions” were not interactive.  At least
I
couldn’t interact; obviously the other girl could.

Walking to where Leah stood, I noticed that the closer I got the less clear her form became.  It was grainy like an old photograph.  Tentatively, I reached out to touch her, but my fingers slipped right through her image.  It was like moving through fog.  For a moment, it dissipates, but then it settles right back into place, as if you’d never disturbed it.

I saw her face contort.  She was crying.  She bent over and put her hands on her knees, presumably to catch her breath, then she stood up.  After taking three deep breaths, she took off running again. 

Through her, I could see trees and shrubs flit by as she ran, though she never got out of my sight.  She was running through the woods,
my
woods, and I guessed it was raining.  She tripped over a fallen log once and then over a root sticking up, both times catching herself on her hands before she hit the ground.

I could see her dipping and bobbing over the uneven terrain, having run through the woods with Derek many, many times.  A pang of longing stabbed at my heart, but I squelched it and turned my full attention back to Leah.  She fell out of sight.

I searched the parking lot pavement for her, frantic that something had happened to her. 

I saw her arms flailing.  Then I saw her head briefly before it sank back out of sight.  I saw water droplets fly from her fingertips as her arms thrashed and splashed.  She’d fallen into water and couldn’t get out.

Panic thundered in my chest.  And then I saw Derek, standing in the trees behind her, watching. 

I raced back to the car and punched my home number into the cell phone.  No answer.  Though I wasn’t really surprised, what with the note I’d left and all, I thought there might be a slim chance Derek was still there.  Next I dialed the Kirbys.  Dina answered.

“Hello?”  There was a hopeful note in her voice that tugged at my heart.  No doubt she was hoping that I had good news about Leah.

“Mrs. Kirby, it’s Carson.”

“Have you heard from Leah?”

“No, but I, uh, I…”  I trailed off.  What was I supposed to say?  That I’d had a vision of Leah drowning in the woods?  That would certainly make an impression, just not one that would do any of us any good.  Then it came to me.  “I just wanted to know if you checked the woods.  I mean, sometimes I take walks in there when I need to think and stuff.”

“No, we didn’t.  That just- I don’t know.  That just doesn’t sound like Leah, does it to you?”

“Well, maybe not, but if she was upset then…”

“We could check,” Dina said weakly, doubt evident in her tone.

“Derek could probably help look for her.   He knows the woods really well, lots of trails and things like that.”

“Derek’s gone.  He left day before yesterday.  There’s no way to reach him now.”

I was struck speechless.  I guess I had been holding on to some hope that I’d been mistaken and that Derek would find me when I got home and give me some logical explanation that would make it all better.  Then he’d declare his undying love and I would do the same and we’d live…well, as happily ever after as we could, all things considered. 

But the hollow reality was much more painful than I ever anticipated.  My heart ached like a hole had been torn in it, one that was bleeding profusely.  Even if I wanted to try and find him, I couldn’t.  I had no way of reaching him.  No one did apparently.  No phone number, no address, no family to track him to.  Just the Kirbys.  And they said he was already gone.  

Then a thought struck me:  how had I seen him in the woods with Leah then?  Was I seeing what had already happened this time?

“Carson?  Are you there?”

Mrs. Kirby’s voice brought me back from my musings to the task at hand.  “Oh, sorry.  Well I can go look for her when I get back.  Maybe I can find her if she’s not home by then,” I said, hoping to encourage Dina, but knowing deep down that there was a great likelihood that she would not return.  “And, one more thing.  Is it supposed to rain tonight?”

I knew she probably thought that was an insane question to ask in the midst of such a traumatic situation, but she didn’t say anything about it, merely answered my question.  “No.  It’s supposed to be clear.  As cold as it is, it would probably be snow anyway.”

“So it hasn’t rained in the last couple of days either?’

“No.”

What was supposed to add clarity only served to further confuse and alarm me.  If it hadn’t rained, then maybe what I’d seen hadn’t happened yet.  On the other hand, what if it was only raining in a small section of the woods?  What if someone was
making
it rain?  I thought again of Derek standing behind Leah and a sickening feeling washed over me.

Pushing my emotions aside, I turned the key and revved the Camaro’s engine then pulled the shifter down into drive.  I stopped by the trash can on the way out of the parking lot and pitched the rest of my sub in; my appetite was a thing of the past.

The rest of the drive home turned out to be a lesson in frustration.  My erratic and highly-emotional thoughts served no purpose other than to give me a massive headache. 

Finally, almost three hours later, I saw the Camp exit sign come into view.  I took it and guided the car to the forks rather than to the Kirbys.  I was going to the woods to look for Leah.  There were miles and miles of forest she could be in, but I knew where that tree was and that would be as good a place to start as any.  I was showing off one evening and had burned DC into a tree on the path to a training site Derek and I frequented.

My heart clenched painfully at the memory and I immediately made myself think of Leah and how I might be able to help her when I found her. 
If
I found her.  I hoped that I’d be able to get there in time.

I pulled off the road into a spot where Derek had parked his bike dozens of times.  I hopped out of the car and struck out immediately for the trees.  Luckily, as a direct result of my time spent with Derek honing my skills, I didn’t even need a flashlight to navigate the uneven terrain. 

As soon as I entered the forest, big, fat raindrops started to pepper through the bare trees as I picked my way around the vegetation.  Despite the cold temperature, I was stuck in the middle of a downpour.  I was soaked by the time I’d made my way to the tree with the DC carved into it, but there was no sign of Leah. 

I stopped to listen and that’s when I heard it.  Splashing and sputtering.