Unclouded Day

  Chapter Twelve

  Time passed, and summer faded slowly into fall. The miracle of Brandon and Rachel’s healing faded gradually into the realm of old news, as people found fresher things to talk about during the long evenings. Brian was glad to see it; he’d never liked being a celebrity in the first place.

  By the time October rolled around, things had settled back into a calm and familiar pattern, for the most part. Mama quit drinking, and she was nicer in a lot of ways. True, she still had a tongue that was sharper than cats’ claws now and then, but at least she didn’t use her fists anymore.

  The first few times his father came to visit were so awkward that Brian almost wished he could slink under a rock and hide, but after a while even that got a bit easier. There were still certain subjects that nobody was willing to mention, let alone talk about, but Brian was almost sure he could sense a slow thawing and loosening, and maybe eventually things would be better. Brandon seemed to take the whole thing in stride and never blinked an eye, but then of course he didn’t remember very much.

  Brian and Rachel both had problems with their newfound beauty. Adam and Patti Sue were only the first in a long line of jealousies and fights, and the two of them finally got to the point that they told everybody they were going out with each other, just to stop the headache. Neither of them really thought of the other like that, but at least the pretense gave them some peace.

  Brian remembered what Miss Sadie had said about having to pay a price for all their powers and wondered sometimes if the constant flirting and jostling might be part of it. He strongly suspected so.

  All the while, he was also gradually discovering just how amazing those powers really were. They were nothing at all like using the amulet; he found out quickly enough that there would be no more turning pebbles into gold, no more moving things around, no more growing full-size trees in thirty seconds flat. All that had disappeared forever.

  But he didn’t mind the loss of those things, or at least not too much. For he found that when he laid his hands on any living thing, he could do wonders. Scars disappeared, and sickness was cured, and even colors and textures became more subtly and variously harmonious than before. The roses grew redder, and the fireflies brighter, and even the grass under his feet turned greener and softer, flawless and perfect down to the tiniest blade.

  More than anything else, it reminded him of what happened to him and Rachel when they drank from the Fountain. He brought beauty to everything he touched. It was almost like he had the power to pull a grimy, obscuring film off the world which no one had ever noticed was there because they’d never seen things any other way. Without it, everything looked fresh and bright and new.

  He noticed other things, too. Animals that came near him turned tame, even wild ones. If he called them, even squirrels and birds and stray dogs would come sniffing at his fingers and eat from his hands without a trace of fear. He wasn’t quite sure how that would work if he tried to tame a rattlesnake or a mountain lion, and he wasn’t quite brave enough to try it yet, but so far he’d found no reason to think it wouldn’t work.

  But that was another marvel that came with a cost. Brian had always loved to hunt ever since the first time Papaw took him out in the woods with a gun when he was five years old, but this year he found himself uneasy with the idea for the first time. It seemed too much like betraying a sacred trust, when any deer in the woods would walk right up to him and nuzzle his face. So he sighed and shook his head and laid his rifle aside, and wondered how many other unexpected things he’d have to give up.

  Besides all that, he found that he could blunt the edge of a storm so that no harm was done, he could take dirty water and foul air and make them clean again, and he suspected he might even be able to do other things he hadn’t thought of trying yet.

  He discovered all these powers little by little, in the course of going about his everyday life. He’d had enough of glitz and grandeur for a lifetime, and usually he wasn’t consciously trying to do anything at all. It just happened, although the changes were always gradual and they always took at least a few hours or days before they showed up. After a while, he took to wearing gloves so he wouldn’t touch things accidentally.

  Now and then he discussed all these things with Rachel and compared notes. They were officially supposed to be going out, after all, so no one thought it was strange that they spent so much time together.

  “It’s weird, Raych. It’s nothing like having the amulet at all,” he told her one day not long before Halloween. It was the first chance they’d had for a really good talk ever since they’d got home from Snowball.

  They were sitting on the edge of Black Rock together after school, and Brandon was playing in the sand down below, too far away for him to hear what they were saying.

  It was a beautiful Indian summer afternoon, with a light breeze playing in the sweet gum leaves. It was still Brian’s favorite place, in spite of everything. All of his white oaks were gone except one or two that he’d never touched with the amulet, but the gnarled old rock-tree was still there like always, and he’d found that fresh green grass had started to come back where everything had seemed completely dead not so very long ago.

  “Well, I wouldn’t know since I never had the amulet anyway,” she pointed out, and he laughed.

  “No, I guess you wouldn’t. But it’s different, trust me. You know Gina Powell?” he asked her.

  “The girl with the really bad zits?” she asked.

  “Yeah, that’s the one,” he nodded.

  “Um. . . kind of. Not very well, though,” she said.

  “Well, I have science class with her after lunch, and a few days ago I had to take my gloves off during class, and I accidentally touched her hand with mine. So now her face is all clear as can be. I don’t think anybody noticed it yet except me, but I bet they will,” he told her.

  “I bet she noticed, even if nobody else did,” Rachel pointed out.

  “Yeah, that’s what worries me,” he fretted.

  “You mean she might figure out it was you that caused it, right? Honestly I don’t see how she ever would. It’s not like it happened instantly,” she said.

  “I know. It just worries me a little. Mama told me to keep all this stuff a secret as much as I can. She said if the wrong people found out, they’d just try to use me for their own purposes and then I’d never have a chance to do anything good in the world like I want to,” he said.

  “Your mom said that?” she asked.

  “Yeah, believe it or not, she did. She’s a lot different now than she used to be,” he added thoughtfully.

  “It doesn’t sound like her at all,” she said.

  “No, and I wouldn’t have believed it myself if I hadn’t seen it with my own two eyes. She still has her bad moods sometimes, but it’s nothing like it was when she used to drink all the time,” he told her.

  “She really quit this time?” she asked.

  “Yeah, so far. She told me she doesn’t even want it anymore, and she’s never said that before. Sometimes I think maybe when I touched her it took away the craving, you know, like it took away Gina’s zits. I’m not sure,” he admitted.

  “Maybe,” she agreed, nodding.

  “I think my dad being around has helped some, too,” he added. He hadn’t told this to anyone else, but Rachel was his best friend.

  “Do you think so?” she asked.

  “Yeah, he’s been coming over on Sunday afternoons since Brandon got home, just like he promised he would, and he and Mama talk on the phone a lot. I don’t know what they say to each other, but it seems like it helps her,” he said.

  “Does he not talk to you?” she asked.

  “Yeah, but that’s been. . . weird, I guess. I always said I wished he’d come back, but after he really did then it was hard to figure out what to talk about anymore. Three years is a long time to be gone,” he said.

  “Did he give you a reason fo
r why he was gone so long?” she asked.

  “Well. . . sort of. He said he’s been down in Texas. He wouldn’t tell me exactly where, but apparently I’ve got a couple of sisters I never even knew about. Jenny and Lisa. So he said he wanted to spend some time down there with them for a little while, since he couldn’t seem to get along with Mama for long,” Brian said. This also was a hard truth for him to admit, even though he knew Rachel wouldn’t judge him for it.

  “So how do you feel about that?” she asked. He could tell she was trying to choose her words carefully so as not to rub salt in his wounds, but he only shrugged.

  “I honestly haven’t had much time to think it over yet,” he said. That wasn’t quite true, of course, but the last thing he wanted to talk about at the moment was a laundry list of his father’s misdeeds.

  “I’m sorry,” Rachel said.

  “Aw, it’s okay. Just a big nasty mess that’ll have to get sorted out one of these days. In the meantime I think I’d just as soon let sleeping dogs lie,” Brian said.

  “You mean you don’t even want to meet your sisters?” Rachel asked.

  “Maybe someday. Not right now, though,” he said.

  “Really?” she asked.

  “Yeah. . . that would be really hard, and it’s not like I don’t have enough on my plate already,” he said softly, and she reached out to clasp his hand.

  “Yeah, true,” she agreed, and then there was a long pause.

  “So what about your family?” he finally asked.

  “I think they’re too happy to ask many questions, honestly. It’s almost like they think if they push too hard, it’ll turn out not to be real after all,” she said.

  “They didn’t say anything at all?” he asked, finding it hard to believe.

  “Well, yeah, sure they did, at first. But that was before they realized I was cured. I think they’re still in shock over that,” she said, smiling.

  “What about the car?” he asked.

  “It’s still up there in Snowball somewhere, far as I know. Your guess is as good as mine,” she said.

  “Nobody went to get it?” he asked, surprised.

  “Nobody knows where to look. There are a lot of old dirt roads up there, and it’s a long way off. It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack, if you don’t know which way to go. Sissy says it was just an old beater anyway and she doesn’t care anything about it, as long as I’m all right,” she explained. Then she looked down at the beach where Brandon was playing.

  “How’s the little guy doing?” she asked, nodding her head at him.

  “He’s fine, I think. No worse for the wear, it seems like,” he told her, looking down at his brother with a faint smile on his lips.

  “I’m glad to hear it,” she murmured.

  They both watched Brandon for a while, who seemed oblivious to the whole conversation. He was singing softly to himself while he piled up sand, an oddly beautiful tune Brian had never heard before. It reminded him of something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, like the far green mountains on a rainy day. Rachel must have thought the same, for they both listened in silence till the boy eventually lost interest in his music and fell silent.

  “It’s pretty up here,” Rachel commented after a few minutes, looking around.

  “Do you think so? I’ve been working on it some more since we got back. It was awful at first, pretty much nothing but dirt and rock. I had to plant some grass seed just to cover it up. It’ll take a while to be as nice as it was before, but I think maybe in a year or two it will be,” he told her.

  They sat in companionable silence for a while after that, feeling the warmth of the sun and watching Brandon slowly build his sand castle. Brian was happy, and it didn’t matter to him if they talked or not. He was content just to sit there in his favorite spot, with the people he loved the best, and let things be.

  “You’re still wearing that amulet, I see,” she pointed out after a while, nodding her head at his chest.

  “Yeah, for now, until I can think of what to do with it,” he said.

  “I thought you wanted to save it for Brandon,” she said, and he hesitated before answering.

  “Well. . . I’m really not sure if that’s such a great idea anymore, Raych,” he finally said.

  “Why not?” she asked.

  “Because of something Mama told me awhile back. You know I always used to wonder how she knew anything about the amulet, right?”

  “Yeah, I remember,” Rachel agreed.

  “Well, it turns out her brother found this thing, a long time ago when they were kids, and I guess he didn’t use it very well. Some really bad things happened. I don’t know exactly what all, but bad enough that he didn’t live through it, and neither did my grandmother. Mama won’t really talk about it very much,” he said.

  “That’s awful! I’m so sorry,” she told him.

  “Yeah, I never even knew Mama had a brother. His name was Jack. That’s his name over there, carved on the rock tree. I always used to wonder who that was. But anyway, Mama said Papaw took the amulet after Jack died and she always thought he got rid of it. But I guess he didn’t. He just stuck it up there in one of his trunks in the attic and never said anything about it to anybody,” he said.

  “I wonder why he didn’t get rid of it?” she said.

  “Who knows? Maybe he was afraid somebody else might find it and so he thought it was better to keep it tucked away someplace where he knew he could keep it safe,” Brian said.

  “Maybe,” she agreed.

  “I don’t know for sure, but I think it’s a good guess. Papaw was like that, you know. He was always really protective. He would’ve done whatever he thought he needed to do to keep some other kid safe from finding it. Especially after what happened to Jack,” Brian explained.

  “But wasn’t the amulet supposed to be just for you?” Rachel asked, furrowing her brow.

  “Well. . . yeah, I know that’s what we thought at first. But then after everything I heard about Jack it makes me wonder if maybe other people can use this thing, after all. Or at least some other people,” he added.

  “Do you think maybe Jack was chosen to find it, too?” Rachel asked.

  “I thought about that, but even if he was, then that only goes to show how even the chosen ones don’t always pass the test. I don’t have a clue what to think, honestly, but I know it sure does make things a lot more complicated than I thought at first,” he continued.

  “So what will you do with it, then?” she asked, after a pause, and he considered the question.

  “I don’t know, Raych. I’m pretty sure if somebody’s truly meant to have it then they’ll find it no matter what I do, but it’s everybody else that really worries me at this point. Maybe it wouldn’t even work for them anyway, but who knows?” he finally said.

  “Well. . . don’t let it get you all tied up in knots. Just give it back to God and then let Him be the one to look after it. I’m sure He knows best,” she said.

  “But how am I supposed to do that?” he asked.

  “You could always try asking Him, you know,” she pointed out.

  “You make it sound so simple,” he muttered.

  “Only when it is,” she teased, and her smile drew a reluctant response from him.

  “Maybe I will,” he agreed.

  That was the end of their conversation, and after spending several days in earnest prayer, Brian was sure he finally had his answer. The only thing he could see in his mind’s eye was the little meadow at Black Rock, and it seemed to him that God wanted him to bury the amulet up there.

  It seemed fitting, once he had time to think about it. Black Rock was probably the safest hiding place on earth, since nobody ever went there except Brian and Brandon; not even Mama. He’d always been curious as to why that should be, and then a week ago she’d let slip the fact that it was where Jack had died.

  It was too long ago and too abstract of a
thing to affect how Brian felt about the place, especially since he’d never known Jack. But he could finally understand why his mother might never want to see the place again, and it provided yet another poignant reason as to why the amulet should find its final resting place there.

  He couldn’t help wondering what it was that Jack had tried to do with the amulet that had turned out so terribly wrong, but that was one thing he could never get Mama to talk about. Whatever secrets she had, she meant to keep them a mystery.

  So Brian waited for a time when no one else was home, and then fetched the very same cigar box from the attic where he’d found the amulet in the first place. Then he wrapped it in rice paper and sealed the box with duct tape, and finally he put the whole thing inside a Ziploc bag with all the air squeezed out of it.

  As soon as that was done, he grabbed his package and a shovel from the garage and headed out.

  The leaves were in all their autumn glory that day, more brilliant and colorful that year than Brian could ever remember. At least, all the ones he’d touched since he got back from the Fountain were like that. He noticed a few that he’d missed, and they seemed lackluster and dull in comparison. In spite of his hurry, he took a few minutes to fix that as he walked by, if the trees were close enough. Nothing changed immediately, of course; not like before, but he knew that within two or three days the new ones would be just as dazzling and beautiful as the others. The thought made him happy.

  He reached the Rock before long and looked at the meadow with a critical eye. He wanted a place where there was some kind of landmark to let him find the amulet again if he ever needed to, but then again he also wanted something that wasn’t too obvious.

  There didn’t seem to be any good options at first glance, but then his eye fell on a white oak tree at the edge of the woods, one of the very few that were still left from the old days. He’d touched it since he got home, of course, and it was as perfect and beautiful as any of the other trees now. There was nothing to mark it as unusual, except that it was the only oak nearby.

  He decided it would do.

  Brian quickly got to work with the shovel, digging a foot-deep hole between two big roots and then placing the plastic bag containing the amulet at the bottom. He took one last look before filling the hole back in, and then carefully tamped down the loose dirt and scuffed any leftover clods into the ground as best he could. Finally he scattered dead leaves over the top so no one would notice that he’d been digging, and that was that. One good rain would wash away all traces of his work.

  “Peace be with you, uncle Jack,” he murmured under his breath. It seemed like the right thing to do, and then he tipped his cap toward the rock tree in a silent mark of respect.

  Satisfied, he headed back home with the shovel to put it back in the garage before anybody noticed it missing. He stopped to wash it clean with the water hose so it wouldn’t be obvious that anyone had used it, and then he was careful to put it back in exactly the same spot he’d taken it from.

  He knew he was probably being a little bit extreme, but he figured it was better to be safe than sorry.

  When all that was done, he went inside and happily went to work on his newest project of repainting the stairs. No one had ever come around to ask about the disappearing gold, so Brian had finally decided it was all right if he used the money. There was no way for him to give it back even if he tried, after all. So he’d bought some things and started fixing the house the old-fashioned way, with his own two hands. It was hard work and it took a lot longer than using the amulet, but it was satisfying.

  He’d already replaced all the worn-out wallpaper and put in some new carpet here and there. It would take a while, and he might not end up with marble floors when he was done, but that was all right. He was still enjoying himself in the meantime.

  He hummed under his breath while he worked, a tuneless melody that he’d heard the day before on one of Brandon’s cartoons and couldn’t seem to get out of his head.

  He was still painting when Mama and Brandon came home two hours later, and he looked up and smiled.

  “That’s really nice work, Brian,” she told him, admiring the stairs.

  “Thanks, Mama. What’s for supper?” he asked. It was, of course, the most important question of the day.

  “Ham hocks, mashed potatoes, and I think peas,” she said.

  “Sounds good to me,” he said, putting down his paint brush. He quickly took a shower to wash the paint off and changed into some fresh clothes, and then he took Brandon outside to sit on the porch and wait for supper. Mama didn’t like anybody else in the kitchen while she was cooking.

  He could see the Crystal Range off to the north, green and mysterious as ever in the last light of the setting sun, and he smiled to himself.

  “What are you smiling at, Brian?” Brandon asked, looking at him curiously.

  “Nothing, Beebo. Just thinking how lucky I am, that’s all,” he said, and kissed him on the cheek. Brandon quickly rubbed it off like it was toxic waste.

  “You left spit on me,” he said, half disgusted and half laughing.

  “Yeah, well; get used to it, kid,” he told him, then he did it again and tickled his ribs for good measure. He loved to hear him laugh, partly because he still hadn’t forgotten what it was like to lose him. Brian knew he’d never be able to forget that terrible moment when they opened the drawer to see him lying there dead. It was the most awful thing he’d ever experienced. But then again, he’d also never forget the moment when Brandon first opened his eyes. From blackest despair to joy sharp as needles in five seconds flat.

  He often thought that Brandon hadn’t been quite the same after that day. The change was so slight that sometimes he thought he must be imagining things, but other times, like now, he was almost sure of it again.

  He could almost swear that Brandon’s eyes were somehow deeper than he remembered, and sometimes he had a faraway look in them that made Brian wonder what on earth he was thinking about. He had that look in his eyes now, gazing out at the far mountains.

  “What are you thinking about, Beebo?” he finally asked, curious.

  “The green place,” Brandon said absently, still gazing out with his deep blue eyes.

  “The green place?” Brian asked. It was the first he’d ever heard of it.

  “Yeah. There’s water, and everything’s green, with a gold cup to drink from,” he said, as if Brian ought to know this already.

  Brian furrowed his brow. It sounded like the cave where the Fountain was, but there was no way Brandon could know anything about that unless maybe Mama had said something to him about it. It seemed doubtful, but Brian himself had certainly never mentioned it.

  “Where’s that?” he asked lightly, not to make too much of it. Brandon turned and looked at him curiously.

  “Don’t you remember?” he asked, and at first Brian didn’t know what to say. Then he decided there was no point in pretending, and so he smiled and pulled Brandon close.

  “Yeah, Beebo. . . I remember,” he said.

  “Someday I’ll go drink that water, too,” he declared calmly, and again Brian wasn’t quite sure how to answer.

  “You think so?” he asked.

  “Yeah, he promised,” Brandon said.

  “Who promised?” Brian asked, confused.

  “The one who woke me up in the hospital that night. He said he wanted me to drink that water someday, but he needed me to do some other things first. That’s what he said, and he promised,” the boy said, with conviction.

  Brian would have liked very much to ask him more, but he didn’t get the chance. Just then, Mama came to the door and called them both inside to eat.

  In the days that followed, Brian tried several times to bring up the subject again, but he never learned much more. Brandon’s memories were vague and confused, and the only thing he seemed sure of was that he’d know what to do when the time came. Brian was mystified, but he h
ad no choice but to be content. There was no more information to be had.

  It didn’t keep him from wondering (and worrying), but he kept his thoughts to himself and finally decided it was nothing he had any business meddling with. It would either happen or it wouldn’t, and in the meantime there was nothing to be done about it anyway.

  He took to roaming the town as quietly as he could and touching things here and there. Trees in the park, azalea bushes around the courthouse, songbirds and squirrels that came to him, things like that. He was pretty sure Rachel was doing the same thing whenever she got the chance, although she rarely mentioned it. As always, the effects were subtle and never immediate, but little by little he knew they were changing the valley. How much they might change it was still in doubt, but he knew it was happening.

  He was much more cautious about handling people, for fear of getting found out. But still, whether it was curing Gina Powell’s zits or getting rid of Mama’s thirst for vodka, they were surely having an effect in that realm, too, and he knew the longer they stayed in one place the more emphatic that effect would be.

  Brian never spoke of these things to anyone except Rachel and Brandon, and rarely even to them. But he was happier than he could ever remember being in his entire life, even when he’d had the amulet and thought that things couldn’t possibly get any better. He was living out all the dearest wishes of his heart, just like Miss Sadie had told him he could do, and there were times now when he could look back and be thankful even for the hard days when he’d thought there was no hope and no chance. It was part of what had made him who he was, and he didn’t think his new life could ever have tasted so sweet, if there had never been any bitterness to compare it to.

  He visited Miss Sadie at the nursing home now and then with Rachel, and once he tried to explain to her how happy he was, but she only smiled and shushed him.

  “That’s exactly how it ought to be, child. The world has taught you to think it’s not safe to be too glad, and that tears are more real than laughter. But that’s not so. Joy is what the whole world was made for, even if people don’t remember that very often nowadays. But you of all people should never forget it,” she told him.

  And Brian never forgot.

  Epilogue

  Brian always remembered Miss Sadie’s words, and did his best to use his powers wisely. In time the whole valley became beautiful as Black Rock had been, for the ravages of time held no power there. Few people seemed to notice, except perhaps a stranger now and then, passing through on business of his own.

  There were still, to be sure, the ordinary ups and downs of life to be faced and dealt with, for no one on earth can escape from pain completely. Yet if the stars shone a little brighter, and the grass was a little greener, and the music of the birds was a bit more sweet than in most places, that was only to be expected.

  And if, perhaps, there were fewer pains and less sickness among the people than before, then no one seemed to notice anything unusual about that, either.

  Yet there was a price to pay for all this, as Sadie Jones had warned him so many years ago. For there came a time when Brian and Rachel had to leave the valley behind, lest anyone begin to notice that they never aged.

  Therefore they married and traveled the world, and now and again they would stay in some place that seemed good to them for a few years, and they did their best to fill it with joy for a time. But they could never stay for long, and after they departed the blessing gradually faded from whatever place they had brought it to. For nothing lasts forever in a dark and fallen world, and the best they could do was to plant memories of Heaven, to turn men’s souls in that direction; not to make a heaven on earth.

  But neither of them were sorry for this, and they labored long and gladly to do as much good as might be, even if they knew that it was only for a little while.

  Brandon grew up, and many years later made his own journey to drink of the Fountain, for his own reasons and with his own burdens to carry. But that’s another story, which may be told another time.

  And so it may really and truly be said that they all lived happily ever after, and no words in a book could add more to their blessing.

  And that was the best magic of all.

  The End

  The story of Brandon, his half-sister Lisa,

  and the rest of the Stone family continues ten years later in

  Many Waters

  The Stones of Song Series, Book Two

  A Curse-Breaker Book

  Many waters cannot quench love,

  Neither can the floods drown it.

  -Song of Solomon 8:7

  Prologue - Cody

  Love has a way of sneaking up on you sometimes, especially when you least expect it.

  So does evil.

  I certainly never expected to find both of those things in the space of a single summer, but sometimes life is really strange that way.

  I was mucking out the horses’ stalls when it all started. Every now and then I had to stop and wipe the sweat off my face with my shirt-tail, and I think I would have traded my firstborn child for a cold Dr. Pepper right then. If you’ve never shoveled horse manure for two or three hours under a blistering Texas sun, then you’ve missed out on one of life’s truly memorable experiences, buddy.

  I wasn’t expecting visitors that morning, so when I saw a black truck come bouncing across the cattle guard I was understandably curious. Strangers can be good or bad, but they always have to be watched carefully till you know which kind they are. I put down my shovel and started walking toward the front drive to meet whoever-it-was, secretly glad for the chance to take a break for a few minutes.

  When I got close enough I noticed that the truck had Louisiana tags, and even though that’s not such an oddity, it was unusual enough to elevate my curiosity another notch.

  I was just in time to see a young man getting out of the driver’s seat. He looked to be about two or three years younger than me, maybe eighteen or so, but I’d never seen him before in my life. He was wearing ratty jeans and a chocolate colored t-shirt that matched his hair and eyes, and he had the athletic build of a dude who runs or swims a lot.

  “Can I help you?” I asked, when he was near enough to use a normal voice.

  “Yes, sir, I think you can. My name’s Matthieu Doucet, and I’m looking for the owner of the Goliad Ranch,” he said. He had an ever-so-slight Cajun accent that marked him as coming from somewhere a lot farther south than Shreveport, and I wondered again what he could possibly want.

  “Well, that’d be me. Cody McGrath,” I said, offering my hand. Matthieu nodded and shook it, with a surprisingly strong grip.

  “Pleased to meet you, Mr. McGrath. I’m afraid my business might take a little bit of explaining. May I come in for a few minutes?” he asked politely. I couldn’t think of any reason not to hear him out, so I took him inside to the kitchen table and sat down. It’s the place I always gravitate whenever there’s a serious conversation afoot.

  “I know you’re probably busy, Mr. McGrath, so I’ll get right to the point. We think your family might be in danger,” he said.

  That put me instantly on guard, of course, just like it would anybody, but I didn’t let it show on my face.

  “What do you mean?” I asked carefully, and Matthieu looked at me for a second, like he was sizing me up. I hate it when people do that; it almost always means they’re trying to figure out how to get me to do whatever it is they want. I braced myself to be even more wary than usual, but what he said next totally blew me away.

  “Mr. McGrath, do you believe in magic?” he finally asked.

  Well, now that was a question I wasn’t expecting. I did believe in it, of course; the Scriptures are chock full of stories about real-life witches and sorcerers. But they’re also full of warnings about how we’re not supposed to have anything to do with those kinds of things, so Matthieu’s question alarmed me to say the least. I don’t mess with stuff l
ike that, and I don’t allow it in my house, either.

  “I think it’s real, if that’s what you mean,” I said carefully.

  “Well, then, maybe you can also believe it when I tell you that my job is to track down evil things like that, and put a stop to them whenever I can. That’s why I’m here. Your name happened to come up recently during a fight with some especially cruel and powerful sorcerers, and that could mean you’re a target. I don’t know that for sure, but I’d be careful with strangers for a while, if I were you. Evil may not always look like you think it will, so please keep your eyes open,” he said, cool as a cucumber. He seemed absolutely earnest and serious, like it was the most ordinary thing in the world.

  “I see,” I said, unsure what else to say.

  “I’m also here to offer you some help if you are attacked at some point, but that’s entirely up to you. I hope you never need to call on me, but if you do, please feel free,” he said, offering me a business card which I took without thinking. It was cream colored, with shiny dark blue upraised italics that said Matthieu Doucet, Avenger, with a phone number listed at the bottom. I didn’t know quite what to say to that, either.

  Matthieu saved me the trouble of having to think of an adequate answer, because he got up from the table with an air of finality.

  “Anyway, that’s what I came to tell you. I hope you’ll take it to heart, Mr. McGrath. Good luck, and God be with you,” he said, offering his hand. I shook it, and that was that.

  I stared at the dust trail from the disappearing truck, thinking to myself that I’d just experienced one of the strangest conversations of my entire life. I slipped the business card inside my billfold just in case, but honestly I hoped never to see or hear from Matthieu Doucet the Cajun Avenger ever again.

  I went back outside to finish mucking out the stalls while I still had time, uneasy and full of foreboding. Mostly because Matthieu’s warning wasn’t nearly as much of a surprise as he probably thought it was.

  You see, for as long as I can remember, I’ve had dreams.

  I don’t mean the kind that everybody has. I’m talking about true dreams. Visions. Glimpses of things yet to come. Most of the time they’re incomprehensible; strange, vivid, unbelievably realistic tales that leave me baffled as to what they mean. Only rarely do I get a clear look at the future. But you better believe I pay close attention either way, just in case. Mama has always told me they’re a gift from God, like the prophets in olden days used to have. All I can say is, if that’s really true, then sometimes gifts are hard to bear.

  Oh, not always, of course. I remember one time when I was eight years old and Mama lost her wedding ring while she was cleaning. That night I dreamed I saw it up under the dryer, and sure enough, when we looked the next day, that’s where it was. It was a little bit uncanny, maybe, but nothing exceptional. That’s how things were for a long time. I rarely dreamed at all, and even when I did they were usually fairly ordinary things like that.

  But lately my dreams had turned dark and grim, full of monsters and blood. I didn’t know quite what to make of them, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that whatever they meant, it was nothing good.

  That’s why Matthieu’s warning was no shock to me. He was a little more specific about it, maybe, but I’d already known for weeks that I had some kind of ominous danger hanging over my head.

  And then purely aside from the spooky stuff, it hadn’t rained a drop since March, and the drought was killing us. We were losing money hand over fist, in fact, and even though you can run a business at a loss for a little while and still have a chance to make it up later, you can’t do that forever. If something didn’t change soon, I didn’t know what I might have to do. Thinking about all that was enough to keep me awake at night sometimes, even if I didn’t dream at all.

  So what with one thing and another, I guess you could say I was pretty stressed out and preoccupied right then, jumping at shadows and inclined to think there were monsters hiding behind every tree. When you don’t feel safe even in your own bed at night and you’re also teetering on the brink of financial disaster, you tend not to care too much about other things.

  Including girls.

  In fact, I can safely say that I needed romance right then just about as much as a rooster needs a pair of socks. Maybe even less.

  Which I guess goes to show what a really strange sense of humor God must have sometimes.

  Mama came outside about ten-thirty to bring me a glass of tea and to make sure I hadn’t collapsed from manure inhalation, I guess. It wasn’t quite a Dr. Pepper, to be sure, but I was way past caring about that.

  I drank the whole thing at one pull, then used the cold glass to wipe my forehead.

  “Thanks, Mama, that was really good,” I said, handing the glass back to her.

  “Well, I thought you might need something cool to drink, it’s so hot out here. Are you just about done?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I’m finished now. Fixing to go load up some cows to take to the sale barn, as soon as Marcus gets back with the trailer,” I said.

  “Oh, all right. I don’t guess you’ll be back in time for lunch, then, will you?” she asked.

  “No. Marcus said something about going over to his sister’s place, and I’ll probably stop in Ore City and grab a burger at the Dairy Dip on the way home. Don’t worry about cooking anything,” I said.

  “All right. I hope you do good with the cows,” she said, and I nodded. I hoped so too; God knows we needed the money.

  I crossed my fingers and prayed for a good day, and never had the faintest clue how that prayer would be answered.