Salem's Sight

I grabbed the books and was really grateful Berkley was as smart as she was. She nailed it. If I understood it more, then maybe I could get it under control.

  That could change everything.

  “What are those?” I asked pointing to the cards, hoping they weren’t some kind of Tarot cards. Like I said, I wanted to understand my abilities and all, but I had different career choices under consideration. Becoming the headliner at a carnival just didn’t do it for me.

  “Zenner cards. They’re used specifically to test the amount of ESP you have and they can be used to increase your ability. I guess it comes from focus or something.”

  “Cool, thanks.” I took a closer look at them. The pack consisted of twenty-five cards, five of each kind. A star, square, plus sign, circle, and three squiggly lines that looked like water.

  This could be interesting. If nothing else I’d get a fix on how much ‘ability’ I actually had.

  “Do you want to try it?” Berkley asked with so much excitement bubbled over in the pitch of her voice and I couldn’t disappoint her by refusing.

  By the third time we went through the entire deck I was nailing it four out of five cards. If there’d been a question before, there wasn’t now.

  And I have to admit; I was pretty impressed.

  Berkley was more than impressed; she acted like I just came out of a bottle in a puff of smoke. Unlike her, I couldn’t see how this ‘gift,’ as all the books called it, could in any way enhance my world.

  Right now it was just a royal stinking pain in the butt.

  “So, do you see anything happening at the dance tonight?” Her eyes sparkled awaiting the gossip she expected me to impart before it even happened.

  “Wait.” I closed my eyes briefly as if a news flash just interrupted the programming in my mind. “I do see something.”

  “What?” she practically squealed.

  “I see you and me at the dance.” I paused and stared slightly off into space as if my focus was beyond the realm of this world.

  “And?” she asked as she moved closer to try to get the scoop.

  “And we’re dancing with…” I let it hang till her eyes looked ready to pop, “each other.” I started laughing and she picked up my pillow and hummed it at me. I ducked and it sailed on by taking out the perfume, nail polish and lipsticks that had been lined up like little soldiers on my bureau. They crashed to the floor and Skyler immediately started batting a lipstick around while Berkley and I cleaned up the damage.

  “Funny Salem, real funny.”

  “Yeah, I thought so.” I grinned at her.

  “I thought you might have seen yourself dancing with, oh I don’t know, maybe Robby?” she said taunting me.

  “Sure I’ve seen that. In my dreams.”

  Berkley’s mouth fell open and took in a breath so loud it was audible. “So you have dreamed about it? It seems likely then?” It would have been better if Berkley had turned out to be psychic; she was so much more into it than I was. But then again who knows, if she had been the psychic, I might have thought it mad cool too.

  I shook my head. “No, not those dreams, I meant like in my fantasies. No precognition on the hottie front.” So much for having the gift of second sight.

  “Well I might not be psychic, but even I see a hook up in progress there.”

  “You think so?” I asked, hoping she didn’t see how desperate I was for a close encounter of the Robby kind.

  “I’d say it’s like practically a done deal.”

  I didn’t know if she was saying it because she was my friend and she knew I wanted it, or if it was because she really believed he was as interested as I was.

  Either way I had a serious case of the grins.

  ****

  Everything I tried on looked horrible. I mean, it was a high school dance so I couldn’t go over dressed, but I also didn’t want to go dressed for a normal school day. If there was the remotest chance Robby would be there like he said he would, then I had to look good. Which meant I had to feel good. Which meant I needed a freaking miracle.

  Most of the contents of my closet lay sprawled across my bed, a pile of definite no’s strewn across my pillows. I pulled mix and match pieces and held them up to my full-length cheval mirror hoping suddenly the perfect outfit would materialize and it would turn me into a goddess.

  It didn’t.

  With a sigh I settled for a spaghetti strap brown clingy number with beige gauzy overtop. It was prettyful and at least it was new. I could wear it with my brown flowy skirt and beaded gold heels.

  When all was said and done I looked good. Not drop dead gorgeous, put me on the cover of Vogue, but hopefully nice enough to turn the head of sexy senior Robby.

  The top was a little low though and I needed something, some type of necklace to bring the eye up. I was about to raid mom’s jewelry case when I decided instead to ask her opinion. I know, bizarre, but what can I say?

  Her head hung down, eyes focused on the sudoku puzzle in the newspaper, so she didn’t notice when I entered the room. I cleared my throat and she looked up at me and dropped her pencil.

  “You look beautiful, honey.”

  I rolled my eyes even though it was just what I wanted to hear. “I need a necklace. Nothing I have goes.”

  She got up and grabbed my hand as she walked by me. “Come on, let’s see what I have. What about a gold chain?”

  “I have a gold chain too. No, something different.” I had a strange thought and I didn’t know where it was coming from. For some reason I wanted a link with my grandmother. “Mom, do you have any of Grandma’s jewelry?”

  She stopped walking and looked at me. “Sure, I kept it all. Why?”

  “Could we look at it? I don’t know but…” I shook my head.

  “Oh, she has a cameo, a camel colored cameo. It would look perfect with that outfit. And you loved that necklace when you were a kid. You used to always ask her to wear it.”

  “Maybe being here made me think of it,” I said wondering if Grandma just wanted it to be worn again. Mom was right; it was perfect for the outfit.

  Holding it in my hand, I ran my thumb over the cameo. I closed my eyes and just felt the piece of jewelry in my hand. A flood of ease washed over me leaving me more relaxed and comfortable than I had been in months.

  Since, well, you know when.

  “Turn around and let me put it on you.” My mother took the necklace from me and brought it to my throat.

  I lifted my hair and felt it fall against my skin after she clasped it. My neck tingled as if it had been shocked and I felt a surge of energy run through my body. Hey Grandma, ready to rock the night away?

  I smiled secure that I wasn’t going to be alone. The necklace, like a talisman, would protect me.

  ****

  Amazing how the ear shattering sounds of a local DJ could actually erase the sweaty feet smell of the gym. Add a silver disco ball to subdued lighting and my pulse pounded in time with the music, excitement heightened as I looked diligently for the perfect dance partner.

  I spotted Robby the second he entered the room then actively avoided him until we could accidentally run into each other, so I could pretend I hadn’t known he was there all along. Stupid, I know, but it’s not like I’d let him know I was scoping him out, even though I was. So I looked anywhere except where Robby happened to be.

  And trust me, doing this for an extended amount of time could be considered an amazing skill. I quickly scanned the room again.

  Guys hung out talking, or attaching themselves to whichever girl they were momentarily considering their personal property.

  Single girls danced with their other dateless friends like I had with Berkley, flaunting assets in an attempt to draw the attention of the guys who came stag.

  I clutched at my cameo invoking the powers that be to get through this ritual.

  Okay, I shouldn’t have been so nervous - it wasn’t like it was my first dance ever. But it was my first dance here in Rhode Island and
my first real shot at Robby.

  Berkley had an on again off again relationship with Alex Bellis, the senior most likely to earn an advanced degree. They were both smart and their logic often got in their way as a couple. As Berkley so aptly put it, ‘Why get involved when you know you’ll end up going to different colleges’?

  It was a little too logical for me, but I was lucky to meet her when they weren’t dating because we were spending a lot of time together.

  With the way Alex eyed her now though, I had a feeling they’d be on again by the end of the night.

  Sure enough, he approached and asked Berkley to dance. For a second I felt lost. I mean, I know other people and could have walked over to someone and started a conversation, but when I looked around there was Robby staring at me.

  We locked eyes and for a second I forgot to breathe. When he smiled, I smiled and gave a little wave, all the while wondering how stupid I looked doing it.

  My heart beat louder and louder as he began to approach until the sound echoed in my ears and I was afraid he’d be able to hear it thud above the music.

  Suddenly he was in front of me and I clutched my cameo for support.

  The music was so loud he might as well have been attempting mime. I saw his mouth move, but didn’t have a clue what he said.

  I must have had some kind of duh expression on my face because he leaned close, his lips barely an inch from my ear.

  “Want to dance?”

  I’m not sure what made me happier, the offer or the way his breath felt upon my ear.

  Incapable of uttering a response, I nodded. Robby smiled, took my hand, and led me to the dance floor.

  Color me happy, the boy could dance. It was a risk getting on the dance floor with a guy without a preview first, because let’s face it; a lot of guys don’t realize they lack rhythm.

  Not the case with Robby. The strobe lights, the music, and his movements blended perfectly.

  Just when I was about to beg off because sweat threatened, the music slowed. Many exited the dance floor while other couples arrived. Robby looked into my eyes and drew me closer.

  I put my hands on his shoulders and hoped my sweaty palms didn’t stain his shirt, until I noticed he had only one hand secured at my waist. The other sought and tugged at my right hand.

  Okay so he really knew how to dance. Rather than just swaying back and forth the way most kids did, we were really dancing. I understood what my mom meant about being able to follow a good dance partner.

  Before Robby I never had a boy truly lead. It was easy to follow, the music helped me anticipate his every move, and we floated.

  There were couples that were physically closer, practically molded together. I was glad for the space. It allowed our eyes to lock and remain focused. We might have been able to converse, but it wasn’t necessary. Our eyes had a conversation all their own. One I’m sure neither one of us would have been able to verbalize.

  When the song was over a fast beat brought the masses back to the dance floor and our hands dropped. Robby crooked his finger at me in a nonverbal ‘come with me’ and I followed him off the floor to the gym doors. Almost hypnotized by being in one of my fantasies, I would have followed him off a cliff.

  Luckily, he only lured me out into the cool October night. We walked a few feet into the lot where pools of students congregated, standing in groups or pairs, talking and laughing.

  It was quiet and bright compared to the loud music and darkness of the gym and Robby’s expression changed drastically. Did I have on too much make-up? Or had he suddenly got a good look and realized I just wasn’t that cute?

  He had the same expression he wore the first time he saw me – weirded out.

  His hand came up fast and for a second I thought he was going to hit me. Instead, he lifted my necklace and bent toward it.

  Then it dawned on me, he worked with antiques. Of course he’d find a piece like this interesting. “It was my grandmother’s. Do you like it?”

  He gazed at it like it was a treasure and I hoped I wasn’t wearing the equivalent of my college fund around my neck.

  I’d lost one of my mother’s diamond earrings down the drain once and we couldn’t use the sink until we had a plumber come. Can you say grounded? Not because I dropped it down the drain, but because I took the earrings without permission. Anyway I learned my lesson. Don’t wear expensive jewelry unless you can afford to replace it.

  “It’s beautiful,” he said as he gently placed it back down. “Just like the wearer.”

  Normally flattery doesn’t fluster me. But when a guy like Robby calls you beautiful, well I have to admit I could feel my face start to burn with a blush while my vocal cords refused to work.

  It hadn’t seemed like we were outside that long, the night passed so quickly. But before long I saw Berkley at the doorway looking for me. “Salem, you’ll miss the last dance,” she yelled.

  Many of the people remaining outside paused in their conversations and began to move back toward the entrance to the gym.

  “Let’s go back then,” Robby said and soon we merged with the others on the floor trying to savor the last few minutes of the dance.

  Berkley had been with Alex the entire time and I’d been with Robby. Still was with Robby.

  The four of us, not wanting the night to end, waited a little awkwardly for my mother to arrive. As soon as I mentioned her car was approaching, the boys put more space between us and said good night. Alex had promised Berkley a phone call in the morning and Robby managed to ask me to his house the next day.

  It was a miracle.

  And more than a little weird considering I had an appointment with his dad first.

  Chapter Nine

  Okay, so there was like no way in the universe I was telling Robby’s dad that I was the new local fortuneteller. I mean shrink or not, he seemed to like me and he was helping me out with my feelings for my dad.

  What do you think he’d say if I just casually mentioned that my dreams came true?

  He’d check me in to the nearest funny farm and break out the straight jacket. Not exactly high on the fashionista wardrobe.

  So rather than get help on my newest and strangest problem, I just held back and went with the miracle cure.

  He wasn’t buying it.

  “Are you sure there isn’t something else that’s bothering you?” he asked.

  I shook my head no. If I’d allowed my voice to answer it would have so betrayed me. The pitch would have shouted – secrets, secrets, secrets. Step right up, get your big secrets here.

  What is it about certain adults and their ‘I know you’re lying’ radar? He knew and for a sec I wondered about the possibility of him being psychic.

  “You know I can’t help without understanding the triggers.” He hesitated. “It takes time but I think you’re doing a pretty good job handling your dad’s death now. I’d swear though that there was something else that’s getting to you.”

  “No, I’m cool, really. You’ve helped so much. And I’m trying to understand why my mother does the things she does. I know that she didn’t move us here just to make me crazy. You helped me see her point of view. She really thought it would help.”

  He stared at me for a moment, like he was trying to look past my eyes and into my soul. “Has it?”

  “In a way, I guess. I mean it’s not a constant reminder anymore. And with the whole new life, well there’s a lot more to focus on. I guess it helps.”

  “So you forgive her.”

  He was pushing it. If you couldn’t continually blame your mother for everything that went wrong in your life… well, you’d have to… grow up.

  “You know as well as I do that it was an excuse. The one I didn’t forgive was myself. I shouldn’t have lived if he died.” Okay, there, I’d said it. Admitted out loud to the thing that ripped at my soul. I shouldn’t be alive. There were times when I wholeheartedly believed it. Those were the times when darkness enveloped me and blotted out every
spec of happiness I ever knew. Then there were the normal times when I was merely depressed. Sadness gripped me but I Knew it’d decrease eventually. I knew I was meant to overcome what happened, I just didn’t like admitting it.

  He jotted something down on his notebook and it made me anxious. “Do you believe that?”

  Damn, this man had definitely taken classes in how to dialogue with questions only. I felt like I was in a skit from that old comedy show where you are only allowed to ask questions and the first one to screw up loses.

  “Yes. No.” And this was a trick question. “Sometimes. Part of me knows it’s stupid, and the other part can’t get over that if I’d been in the front seat where I belonged, I’d be dead too.”

  He nodded as if he was taking it in and mulling it around. Then he floored me. “What if your mom had been in the front seat?”

  Now he was definitely giving me a headache. I put my hands in front of my face to block out the image and to block out the light. I’d been getting migraines since the accident and had a feeling one was coming on.

  “No, I can’t think about that. She wouldn’t have been. He always picked me up on Tuesdays. I can’t imagine how I would have gone on if Id lost them both.”

  Why was he doing this to me? This wasn’t helping any. Oh, how my head hurt. He was giving me just enough time between the questions to consider more than I wanted to. And it was turning into a full-blown migraine.

  “Don’t you think that’s crossed your mother’s mind?

  He had me again. Of course my mother thought of that. Which was probably the real reason we were here, so she could start fresh and also be too focused on everything else to think about the accident. She couldn’t handle it either.

  Because memories hurt right now. Scraped across exposed wounds, raw and still bleeding. I nodded; it was easier than trying to speak.

  “It’s called survivor’s guilt, if that helps. And Salem, it’s very common.” He paused for a second and stared through my façade. “But I still think there is something else, something that’s only been added on recently.”

  Okay, so I needed to throw him a bone. He wasn’t stupid and if I didn’t give him a problem he’d know I had something to hide. I sighed, this wasn’t really a big deal to me, but hey, it was the best I could come up with.