Vision of Shadows (17 page)

“You mean scary as hell,” I said. “But I’ll do it.”

“I believe you would,” Payne said. “You won’t have to. I promise.”

“And what about the other stuff? The crazy things you do?”

“That
, too,” Payne said. “I won’t be so reckless, okay? I won’t do anything where I can get hurt.”

“Thank you.”

Payne smiled and took my hand. “Come with me, I want to show you something.”

“What?”

He just grinned. “Trust me.”

And just like that, I did.

Payne took my hand and led me on a path through the woods. I had no idea where we were going, and logically I knew this wasn’t bright. I simply didn’t care.  

Before long, we came to a small stream of water flowing through a clearing. I looked around the pretty meadow and admired the small patch of wild flowers that grew past the shade of the woods. The area was open and uncluttered, with only a single weeping willow tree sitting a few feet from the stream
, which offered shade to anyone who cared to sit and watch the water ebb by. 

I knew this spot. It was going to be our spot.
We would spend many moments under that tree, talking, kissing, exploring.

I recognized the view from the vision of Payne and I lying naked in each other’s arms. Somehow, I knew when I had that vision, it was of my first time. This would be the place where we would first make love
—if he didn’t kill me first.

“This place is perfect,” I said.

“It is now,” Payne said. “I’ve been coming here ever since my mom died. She had told me about this place, but I didn’t find it until about six months after the accident. To be honest, it never occurred to me to even look for it until she was gone. She’d mention that path there.” He paused and pointed to a trail that led through the trees. “It leads straight to my grandpa’s house. The one over there,” he now indicated a similar path on the opposite end of the clearing. “That goes toward where you live. After she died, I made sure to find this place. It’s where I can go to feel close to her again.”

I hugged him. “Thank you for sharing this with me. It’s beautiful.”

Slowly, we found ourselves sitting underneath the tree with me in his arms, watching the stream pass by.

“We haven’t talked about your parents much,” Payne said. “Do they…”

“Drop by to see me? No, they haven’t yet. I don’t know why. My aunt, who I’d never met, came to me just before I arrived at my uncle’s place. But my parents can’t be bothered to say hi, we’ll miss you, we love you. Maybe they never did.”

“Hey,” Payne said
. “Don’t talk like that. Of course they loved you. You just…”

“Just what?” I asked. “Payne, my parents weren’t like my uncle. I’m not sure
how
they felt about me. We were never close.”

“I’m sorry,” Payne said. “I just look at Sheriff Blackburn and figured your parents were like him somehow. It must have been hard on you. Lonely.”

“It wasn’t too bad,” I said. “I was never really alone. I always had someone with me, telling me to eat my veggies or to help with homework. It’s just that they were all dead.”

Payne and I sat there a few seconds in silence. Then we both burst out laughing. 

“God, that sounds so insane
,”
I said. “I never really said any of this out loud to another living person before. Emphasis on
living
. It feels nice to be able to talk about it.”

“Have you ever been spooked by a ghost? Are they ever scary?”

“No, never,” I replied. “I’ve been around ghosts my entire life. At first, when I was younger, they more or less just passed through. As I got older, their presence became stronger. But I’ve never been afraid of them. I know they can’t hurt me.”

“That makes sense, I suppose.”

“Not to say I haven’t found them disturbing in other ways,” I added.

“Such as?”

“Well,” I said, “hearing how they died. I’ve had people show up that just need to tell the story, I guess. Like they won’t believe it themselves until they say it to someone, and that someone is me.”

I looked to see if I was freaking Payne out
. He seemed okay, so I continued. 

“I really hate the ones that have been eaten,” I said. “I don’t care if they were torn apart
by a bear, ripped to shreds by a croc, or chased down by a bobcat. I hate seeing that. I once had someone who was swallowed whole by a shark.” I shuddered.

Payne laughed. “Yeah, I can see how that can ruin your appetite. But it never scared you?”

I shook my head. “It wasn’t like I was about to go hug a bear or play with a giant snake. Do you get scared when you hear of a shark attack on TV? It’s not nice, but when I get a visit from someone who got mauled by a grizzly, I don’t go throwing out all my cute little teddy bears.”

“Teddy bears?” Payne smiled. “I don’t know. I think see
ing and hearing things, especially when you were little, must have scared you some.”

“Well,
when I was little the ghosts wouldn’t usually tell me vivid details.”

“They didn’t?”

“No, not that I can remember,” I explained. “It would have been very rude, don’t you think?”

“Of course,” Payne agreed. “Death is never an excuse for rudeness.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Are you mocking me?”

“Me? Mock? Perish the thought!”
He grinned. 

I gave him a good
-natured laugh, quickly followed by elbowing him in the gut. Payne gave an exaggerated wince. His stomach was rock hard. 

“But really,” Payne said
. “The living do rude and inappropriate things. Surely the dead do as well?”

“Well, yeah,” I answered. “I’ve had a few wacky ones. One guy who died of heart problems, really overweight. He followed me around watching everything I ate, counting the calories
, telling me how I was eating myself into an early grave. I yelled at him, ‘Me having one cookie is not the same as you having twenty an hour!’
He left me alone after that.”

“I can see how that would be annoying,” Payne said.

“But most aren’t like that. Most just need a little time to adjust. It’s so unreal that they’ve been hit by a bus, or dropped their hairdryer in the tub with them, or even this one guy who had his head chopped off in a freak accident when he stuck his head in an open elevator door to see where the elevator was. He refused to believe it, even though he was standing there holding his head like a football.”

“Oh, that must have been pleasant
.” Payne winced at the thought, making me giggle. “Can I ask you another question?”

“Um, yeah
.” I wondered how bad the question was going to be. It was all seeming so normal. How long would that last?

“Ok
ay, so you can see ghosts, right?” I nodded. “And you can talk to them, so you can hear them. Can you also smell them?”

“Can I smell them?” I repeated. “You want to know if I can
smell
ghosts? Like if I’m a paranormal blood hound?”

“No
.” Payne laughed. “But dead bodies can smell pretty bad. Burn victims, drowning victims… I was just wondering if it was like a full assault on your senses.”

“Oh
.” It was a valid question. “No, I can’t smell them. I think ghosts are just images of the life force left behind. Sometimes when I see a ghost, they appear fully healthy even if they were killed in a horrible car crash. It’s the way they see themselves. I don’t know. Like I said, there’re no rules.”

“Tell me something else,” Payne instructed while he continued to hold my hand, his fingers intertwined with mine. 

“Like what?” I asked, wondering what part of my freakiness he would like to explore now. Did he want to know if I could spin my head around in circles? If I slept in a coffin? When I got mad, did I grow horns and puke up split pea soup?

“I don’t know,” Payne said. “Something about yourself. What kind of music do you listen to? I got that you’re not a huge football fan. I’ll have to work on that. But do you play any sports? Any instruments? What kind of movies do you like? Stuff like that
.”

Was he kidding me?
What kind of music or movies do I like?
We were just talking about decapitated ghosts in denial of their own demise. Now he wanted to know whom I voted for on American Idol?

It was insane. It was insane because it was normal, wasn’t it? It was normal to talk about music and movies. It was wonderful to talk about them, sitting in a pretty field by a pretty stream while holding hands with a very pretty boy.

And you know what? It was nice. I found myself there, snuggled under Payne’s arm, talking about things normal teenagers talk about. He made a few mock faces of disgust over my choice of musi
c
—
Yes, he took the
I talk to ghosts
better than I listen to Fergie. I moaned when he told me he preferred country, but he also listened to rock, even if it is mostly from older bands he liked to call classic.

We talked movies
. His favorite was
Die Hard
. When I told him mine was
Ghost
, he just chuckled and said, “Of course.” We only briefly passed by the subject of sports. He was satisfied I would be happy to root for whatever team he wanted me to as long as he never required me to understand it. 

We traded a few personal stories with an unspoken understanding to keep away from the sad ones and concentrate on the goofy. We both knew the other had seen tragedy in
their lives. Neither one of us wanted those gloomy memories to define how we saw each other. There seemed to be an unspoken agreement that we would share the more depressing parts of ourselves at a future date. There was no if, just a when.

Soon enough we arrived at the point in the conversation that I was dreading. Dating history. I silently wished for a spirit to come along and interrupt our little chat. I felt lame beyond belief having to sit there and explain that I was
seventeen and I’d never been on a date. 

Then he said two words that, had I not been lying in his arms, would’ve certainly knocked me on my behind.

“Me neither,” Payne announced with a shrug. 

I sat up so quickly I got light
headed. “
You
haven’t been on a date? You,
Payne McKnight,
have never been on a date with a girl?
You
”
—
I waved my arms at him in an attempt to indicate his all-consuming hotnes
s
—
“have never, not once, even kissed a girl?”

He shrugged. “No, never. I just…”

“Yes?” I urged.

Payne gave me that grin of his. “I guess, every time I’ve been around a girl, there’s been this part of me that just knew they weren’t for me. I always felt like I’d been waiting for someone.” He reached out and gently placed his fingers on my cheek.
My skin tingled where he touched. “Someone just for me. It didn’t seem right. I’ve just never been interested in any of the girls I’ve met. Not until you.”

He looked at me with such intensity
; I could feel it. My heart was beating a mile a minute. I wanted to run. I wanted to leap into his arms. I wanted him to take it back because it was simply more than I could handle. But more than everything else, there was a piece of me that felt the same way. 

In short, I was torn between running and doing a happy dance.

“Bristol,” Payne said, “I know I’m going kinda fast here, and I’m sorry. No, wait…I’m not,” he corrected as he moved even closer to me. So close I could tell what he was leading up to. And I wasn’t moving away. “Bristol, I can’t help it. I feel connected to you. I trust you. I don’t understand it. But I know I don’t want to fight it. I know we haven’t even been on a date yet—”

“Yet?” I said, my eyes bulging wide. “Payne, I don’t date. I don’t know if I’m ready. I don’t know why you would even
want
to date me. Of all people, why me? You could have any girl in Spirit.”

“Bristol,” Payne said. It made me weak, hearing him say my name. 

“
Payne
,” I countered. “This is nuts.”

“Why?” he asked. “What am I saying that’s so crazy? Are you saying that you don’t feel the same thing? Bristol, if you don’t like me, I’ll understand. If you’re just not interested, fine, but I think you are.”

“Payne, of course I… like you, but really, what could you possibly see in
me
. Is it just possible what you feel is more like fascination?”

Payne grinned
. “I think I
am
fascinated.”

“I don’t mean like that
,” I complained. “I mean because of… you know… the whole talks to the dead thing. Let’s face it, it’s not every day you get to spend time with someone so freaky that—”

“Hey
.” Payne grabbed both my hands. I stared at him, his beautiful, deep blue eyes gazing down on me, penetrating my soul.