Flicker (24 page)

"The TV." My mouth is so dry I can barely
get the words out. "Is another kid missing?"

Her eyes water as she looks up at me. "Today
at the park."

My head jerks in the direction of the living
room.

"Dad said you two were there today. Can you
imagine if you'd been there when it happened? How horrible
for—"

"I… I think I saw her."

Dad twists around on the couch. "You
did?"

I point at the ceiling. "I have her
picture."

Mom and Dad follow me up the stairs. We
crowd around my computer and stare at the picture filling the
screen.

Mom covers her mouth with her hand. "You're
sure you took this today?"

I look at Dad. "This was the last one I took
before we left. I wasn't looking because you surprised me, so I
didn't know what I'd taken until just now."

"We have to call the police," Mom says.
"This could be the first picture they've had." She rushes from the
room and her footsteps fade down the stairs.

My breath is coming too quickly. My
heartbeat is all over the place. I might be able to help, but I'm
also freaking out to once again be involved in an actual life or
death situation.

Dad rests his hand on my shoulder. "You
could help stop this kidnapper."

My insides turn to liquid. It's time to stop
hiding behind my fear of being different. This is about more than
just me. I could actually save this little girl and I need to start
by telling Dad the truth. I force a deep breath, digging deep for
the courage to tell what I've never told a soul. "I think I can
help her."

He tilts his head and gives me a puzzled
look. "That's what we're talking about."

"No, help her…" my voice is so low I can
barely hear it. "Like stop her from getting kidnapped."

Dad straightens.

And I lose my nerve.

He moves to my bed and sits down. "Can I ask
you a question?"

"I think you just did."

His eyebrows raise.

"Sorry."

He looks down at his hands hanging loosely
between his knees. "What happens after your fingers and toes start
to tingle?" My mouth drops as he meets my gaze.

"You know? How do you know?"

His fingers stretch, as if by reflex. "It
used to happen to me."

We stare at each other for what seems like
hours. A thousand questions tumble over themselves in my mind, all
fighting to be the first to fly off my tongue.

"Used to? You mean you can't anymore?" It
never occurred to me that this might someday go away.

He shakes his head. "How long has it been
happening?"

"Since I was thirteen. The first time it
happened was right after my first visit to the orthodontist. I had
that nasty mold in my mouth twice!"

A sad smile dances on his lips. "Mine was
after I broke my arm when I was fourteen. The doctor reset it
without anesthesia. I've always wondered if traumatic events
trigger the syndrome. If I remember correctly, you were terrified
to get braces."

My tongue slides over my straight teeth. "It
didn't turn out so bad."

He leans forward on the bed. "So how far
back do you go?"

"About eighteen hours."

"And how often does it happen?" He raises a
finger in thought. "Is that why you were so sick last week?"

I nod. "If I flicker two days in a row
it's really bad. Remember when I went to the ER last year? I was
trying to fix a test and—" I snap my mouth shut.
Crap.
True confessions wasn't part
of the plan.

He shakes his head. "I figured as much. I
did the same thing in school."

Relief washes through me. I'm not the only
evil manipulator in the family.

"So eighteen hours." He falls silent as he
does the math.

"I'd have to leave at dawn. And that might
not be enough time."

"This is a bad idea. We don't know who that
man is. You could get hurt."

"It's not like I'm gonna walk up to the guy.
I haven't thought it through yet, but I figure I'll find the girl
and make sure she’s safe.” I take a breath. "Dad, for the first
time in my life I have the chance to truly help someone. And not
just help them with something stupid that won't matter in five
years," I think of Amelia and our tests, "but I can change
someone's life. Who knows what that girl has already gone through
tonight."

I don't need to say more. The pain in his
eyes says enough.

He's going to let me do it.

I change the subject before he protests any
more. "So when did it stop?"

"The last time I—what do you call it?
Flickering? The last time was the night you were born. The joy I
felt watching you come into the world… I can't describe it." His
face gets a faraway look and he stares over my shoulder. "You were
so beautiful, so perfect. Of course the first thing I wanted to do
was repeat the whole night.

"But in addition to watching you be born a
second time, I also hoped I could make things a little easier on
your mom. The delivery was hard for her and I thought if I got her
to the hospital a little sooner, maybe massaged her back during the
contractions, that I could make it better for her.

"You were born around sunset so I had to
wait until morning to flicker. I made up some excuse to your mom
for why I needed to leave, then drove out to the Sticks to—"

I interrupt. "The Sticks?"

"This stretch of trees over by the river.
The light was always perfect there."

I grin. "I call it the Strand."

"Huh." He smiles back at me. "What do you
know?"

"So you flickered that morning?"

"I tried to. For a reason I still don't
understand, the light affected me differently that day. Instead of
flickering, my body started convulsing and I crashed head-on into a
car in the oncoming lane. Nearly killed myself and the other
driver."

This is news to me. "Why didn't you tell
me?"

He rubs the back of his neck. "Those first
few days were such a blur, neither of us wanted to talk about it
afterwards. I was in the hospital for weeks after you and Mom came
home and she had to take care of you by herself. Once I was
released we thought we'd pick up where we left off, but I've never
been the same."

"The epilepsy?"

"That's what the doctors labeled it, but
they don't know what it is. Of course I’ve never told them the most
important part." He shrugs. "Who knows what they'd find inside my
skull if they ever cracked me open. For now I collect my disability
and live life as an invalid."

I can't imagine waking up one day and having
your entire life taken away. To be given a label that makes people
feel sorry for you, when really you're a modern miracle.

Funny I've never thought of myself that
way.

"Does Mom know?"

"No. She's wondered, I'm sure, especially
before you were born and I flickered all the time. But she's never
asked many questions."

"And now I'm repeating what you went
through."

"It seems so. And that's why I hate for you
to flicker even one more time. There's no telling what could be the
trigger for you. If trauma makes it start, maybe extreme joy makes
it end. Knowing you've saved a girl's life could be enough to push
you to the edge."

He's right. I know he's right. "I still have
to do it."

He rises and stops in front of me. Wraps his
arms around me. "I know."

Chapter 35

"Yeah I'll pick you up, but how are you
gonna get out of the house?" Cameron asks.

"If I leave early enough they won't realize
I'm gone." Dad agreed to check on me in the morning so Mom will
think I'm here, but I'm not ready to tell that to Cameron yet. "So
you'll be here at five?"

He groans. "Why so early?"

"I'll explain then." A benefit to always
being a little weird is Cameron stopped questioning some of my
stranger requests a long time ago. "See you in the morning."

"Good night."

Mom knocks on my door a few minutes later.
"The police want your camera card thingy."

I sit up. "I can't just email them the
picture?"

"I asked. They said they need the original
card to verify it's not doctored."

"Why would I? Never mind." If it helps the
little girl, I'll do it. I roll off the bed and grab my camera off
the desk. I pop out the card and hand it to Mom. "Good thing I
didn't erase it when I downloaded them earlier."

Mom cradles the card in her hand. "I'm so
proud of you. It makes me happy to see you doing something you
love, not to mention something that's helping others." She gives me
a quick hug then heads back downstairs.

I know I should sleep but I spend hours
studying the pictures, memorizing every detail so I won't have any
doubt where to find the little girl. I can tell you the color shirt
on each boy on the swings, the sandbox to grass ratio of toys, and
how many strollers are lined up near the picnic tables. There's a
soccer ball in the edge of the frame, and I presume that's what
drew the girl to that spot in the first place. The only thing I
still don't know is the man's face.

My alarm goes off a couple hours later,
followed by a text from Cameron that he's parked around the corner.
I arrange my pillows under the blankets, then roll my eye at my
ridiculousness. This isn't a made-for-TV movie. I shove the pillows
to the floor then slip outside as quietly as I can.

My stomach drops.

It's raining.

Not only that, a thick blanket of clouds
separates me from the stars, and in another hour it'll separate me
from the sun as well.

How is this gonna work?

Cameron flashes his lights and I hurry to
his car. I have to follow the plan and hope the clouds break in
time.

*****

Cameron leans across the seat and kisses me.
"I didn't expect to see you until Monday."

I force a smile. "Something's come up."

"Are you going to tell me the big
secret?"

"Yeah, but not here. Can we go to the boat
ramp?" We could go someplace closer, but the boat ramp is only a
few minutes from the Strand.

"Sure." He pulls away from the curb. Neither
of us is awake so the only sound is the gentle thwmp-thwmp of the
windshield wipers as they push away the rain. Because I don't have
much time, I've decided to just spit out the facts and hope Cameron
accepts it fast enough to help. It might have been smarter not to
involve him, to just drive there myself like I always have, but he
deserves the chance to help his sister.

He parks in what I've come to think of as
‘our spot' and shifts in his seat to face me. "I'm dying here.
Spill it."

I take a deep breath and look into his
eyes, then quickly lower my gaze.
What if
this doesn't work? What if he thinks I'm a nutcase and won't do
it?
Then my inner voice speaks up:
What if he does believe you and it does work and you've given
him a way to redeem the guilt he's carried for the past four
years?
Because I finally see that's what's been going
on. He can't let go of Katie because he thinks it's his fault she
disappeared.

"I think I can help Katie."

He pulls back, his eyes wide. "What?"

Okay, that wasn't the best way to start.
"Yesterday I went to the park with my dad to take pictures for
Turner's class and I somehow photographed a little girl right
before she got kidnapped."

His mouth drops. "The one yesterday?"

I nod.

"How? Did you tell the police? And why did
we have to drive all the way out here for you to tell me?"

"We gave the pictures to the police last
night and they've already started doing their thing, but I can do
more." I pause. I've had eight hours to think about this and I
still don't know how to tell him. A flash of lightning strikes in
the distance, sending ripples of panic down my spine. What if the
rain doesn't clear?

He slips his fingers through mine. His dark
eyes are so concerned, so understanding, that for a second I forget
why we're here. "How?"

I clear my throat. "You know my déjà vu
thing?" He nods. "Well it's a little more complicated than what I
told you." And I tell him everything. About the first time at the
orthodontist, cheating on tests, repeating the first time we
kissed. About how I help Amelia with homework and how I wished more
than anything I could have done something to help Katie when she
disappeared. His eyes don't leave mine the entire time I'm talking,
and he's still staring even when I've finished.

"Worst of all, I repeated the day the second
girl was taken and it didn't occur to me that I could help her
until it was too late." I squeeze his hands. "I'm not making that
mistake again. I know exactly where this girl was when she was
taken."

Cameron's eyes are still frozen on mine, but
he finally closes his mouth. Swallows. His voice comes out a
whisper. "So you can actually go back in time? And change
stuff?"

"Yeah. For the first time I've realized I
can use this ability—" because I now understand this is more than
just a condition, "—to help someone other than myself. I can
actually save someone's life."

"But is it dangerous for you?"

I hesitate, but he's too overwhelmed by
everything I've told him to notice. "No. I'll get a headache, but
I'm used to that."

He closes his eyes. "I don't get why you're
telling me all this right now. If you're going to—what did you call
it? Flicker? If you're gonna flicker, why do you need me?"

A lump jams my throat and I struggle to
swallow. "Because if this is the same man who took Katie, this
could be your chance to help find out what happened to her."

His lips part but he doesn't speak. Doesn't
breathe. A tear slips down his cheek and lands on the back of my
hand, but instead of wiping his face he turns to look across the
river. Hints of orange color the treetops but rain still pounds the
windshield, drums the metal roof.