Foretold (19 page)

“Hmmm.” That’s all she said. Just a thoughtful noise. Not even a word, really. It did little to settle Alek’s nerves. She tilted her head, looking him over for a moment, before gesturing to the parlor door behind him.

Alek nodded and sat his unfinished cookie on the table before turning to the parlor. The door to the parlor wasn’t really a door at all, but an archway. Grand black velvet drapes held back by large silver tassels separated the space from the foyer. As he moved inside, a medley of herby smells wafted over his senses. He couldn’t identify which herbs had blended together to create the aroma, but he rather liked the way the spicy-sweet scent tickled his nose.

At the center of the parlor was a small round table, also draped in velvet, and sitting to either side of it were two small stools that reminded Alek of mushrooms. On the rounded walls hung several picture frames containing photos of people that Alek didn’t recognize. He’d never dared ask who the subjects were. It wasn’t really his business, anyway.

Jordan plopped down on a mushroom stool and gestured for Alek to do the same. Once he had, she held out her hand
and said, “Well, let’s see what we have here. Close your eyes and hold out your dominant hand.”

He lowered himself onto the stool and slowly held out his right hand. His fingers were trembling slightly, and just as Jordan took his hand in hers, he noticed a small grouping of cookie crumbs on his palm. He thought about mentioning it, but before he could, her fingers had already brushed them away. She squeezed his hand, closed her eyes, and released a cleansing breath.

That was what she called it. A cleansing breath. As if every problem in the world could be lessened by simply taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

Alek took a breath and blew it out. If nothing else, it didn’t hurt to try.

The room suddenly seemed very quiet, although it was no more silent than it had been just a moment before. After a few seconds, she frowned, as if he’d done something wrong. “Relax, Alek. You have to relax or I can’t sense what your Gift will be. You’re so tense, I’m not getting it right now. Just breathe, okay?”

He took a deep breath, and as he released it, he focused on his muscles, relaxing each and every one as well as he was able. Maybe his concerns were baseless. Maybe he was just being stupid, worrying about his Gift. But he’d never know if he didn’t chill out and relax.

“Ahh. Hmmm.” She opened her eyes then, but averted her gaze from meeting his. She patted him on the hand in a way that was designed to comfort him, an act that sent his heart into a more concerned rhythm. Was something wrong? What was his Gift? Last year, she’d reacted brightly right away. The year before, she’d hugged him. But this year, her eyes were wide with concern and darting all around the room. Maybe his gut had been right after all. Maybe his Gift wasn’t
going to be much of a gift after all. Or maybe he wasn’t receiving a Gift at all. It would be a first in Misery, unheard of, but Alek’s imagination was running wild.

He gathered up what courage he could and asked, “What … what is it?”

She shook her head, and shrugged, a strange cloud settling over her usually cheerful exterior. “It’s … nothing.”

Alek blew out a breath, instantly relaxing. Nothing! It was nothing. He couldn’t have felt more relieved. He settled back on the mushroom stool, every bit of tension leaving his body. “Oh, man. That’s great. You have no idea what that means to me, Jordan. I was so worried all morning that it would be something bad.”

Then Jordan met his eyes at last. She gripped his hand once again, but this time as if to keep him from running away. When she spoke, her voice was tinged with panic. “No, Alek. You’re not understanding me. Your Gift. It’s nothing.”

“You mean …” His heart beat twice, hard and hollow inside his chest. A sick feeling filled his pores, seeping deep inside of him. “You mean I don’t get a Gift this year?”

It was ridiculous and horrible and not anything at all that could possibly happen in Misery. So why was it happening to him?

“That’s not what I’m saying.” She cupped one hand over the top of his and gave it a squeeze, as if trying desperately to comfort him in a situation where no comfort could be found. “Listen. When I tap into a person, I generally receive a vision of what their Gift will be. And this year, yours was … nothing. I saw nothing. It was a cloudy haze. It was … nothing. For your Gift, you are receiving nothingness. Nonexistence.”

The last word she spoke sat in his chest like a hot stone. “Nonexistence? You mean … I’m going to die?”

Everything in the room suddenly seemed smaller. The
table, the mushroom stools, the picture frames, the walls. As well as every molecule of air that was available to breathe.

“No,” she said, after a too-long pause. “You won’t die. You’re just not going to
be
anymore. By the end of this day, you’re no longer going to exist.”

Alek’s heart was pounding in his ears. His breaths came sharp and quick as the panic took hold of him, and it felt very much like something had gripped his lungs and was squeezing them as tightly as it could manage. He shook his head, giving himself over to denial, and met Jordan’s eyes. He wanted to see even a hint of a smile in them, like this was all just some sick, cruel joke. But all he found was the truth. He was going to blink out of existence by the day’s end.

Tears welled up in Alek’s eyes against his will. This couldn’t be it, couldn’t be the end of him. He was just a kid, just a teenager. He hadn’t even kissed a girl yet. When he spoke, his voice shook slightly. “Please, Jordan. You have to help me.”

She grew very quiet, brushing a few tears from the tip of her nose and her cheeks. He’d fully expected her to shake her head, to tell him that there was absolutely nothing that they could do to preserve his future. But she didn’t. After a moment, she released his hand and sat back in her chair, wrapping her arms around her waist, darting her eyes about the room, as if a thought had popped into her head. One that had deeply disturbed her.

Alek sat forward, his eyes locked on her grief-stricken face. “What is it, Jordan? What can I do? There has to be something! And if you know and you don’t tell me—”

“There is something.” She met his eyes, and then blinked, as if she were shaking off a bad dream. “Maybe. But I can’t help you with it. And it might not even work. It probably won’t work at all.”

“But it might.” He wasn’t feeling a burst of optimism, but he did know that if they, if he, did nothing to prevent himself from dying, blinking out of existence, whatever you wanted to call it, then that was exactly what was going to happen. “Please?”

She stood, arms still wrapped around her waist, and began pacing the small room slowly. “Have you ever heard of a man by the name of Cameron Boswell, Alek? Probably not. He was here a bit before your time.”

But Alek did remember him. Not from memory, but from whispers around town. People said he was a troublemaker. People said that Misery was better off without him here. But people said little else about him.

She didn’t wait for an answer. She merely paused for a moment and became lost in thought again, leaving her parlor, Alek, and the entire town of Misery behind for the time being. In her eyes, Alek could tell that she was someplace else. Someplace better. Then worse. A brief almost-smile touched her lips before crumbling away like ashes in the wind. Whatever she had been thinking about had made her happy—incredibly happy—but whatever that was was gone now, and all that was left were shadows. “He was a kind man. Outgoing. Generous. But not well liked around town. Maybe it was because he was different from everyone else. Not in any way that you could see just by looking at him. But Cameron … Cameron was different.”

Her almost-smile returned long enough to lightly brush the edges of her lips before fluttering away again. After all, there were no smiles in Misery. “On his fifth anniversary in town, Cameron came to me to receive his Gift. It was the same as yours, Alek. His Gift was nothing.”

Alek sucked in his breath. He wasn’t the first to receive the Gift of nothing, and what scared him most about that
was that Cameron was nowhere to be found. Blinked out of existence, maybe. He swallowed the lump in his throat and said, “What happened to him?”

She moved to the archway and stared out into the foyer at nothing in particular. Slowly, she raised her right hand and gripped the drapes gently, as if they might help to steady her should she fall. “He came to me with this crazy theory. He thought that if he could manage to leave Misery, he might not cease to exist. If he could somehow get past its borders and head for the next town, then maybe he’d be all right.”

Alek’s forehead creased as he strained to recall where exactly the border to Misery was located. Had he ever been to the edge of town?
Was
there an edge to town? He wasn’t certain. He only knew that ideas were only crazy sounding to those who had other options. If Cameron had actually left Misery and was living out his days somewhere else, if he had proven that it could be done, then Alek was totally on board the crazy train, without hesitation. “Where is it? The way out of town, I mean.”

“I’m not sure anyone really knows. Cameron thought that you could leave Misery by heading north and climbing that really big hill there. He said the other side of it was the border. I don’t know if he was right or not.”

But Cameron had known. And Alek very much wanted to know that too. That there was a way out. That he didn’t have to blink out of existence just because Misery had deemed it so. He stood at last and brushed past her into the foyer, determination driving him forward. “I’m going. I have to try.”

But before his fingertips could make contact with the doorknob, she gripped the back of his shirt. “Wait! You can go. You should! But don’t tell anyone else. The people who live here … in a way, they are Misery. If they know you’re
trying to leave … I don’t know. It’s not safe, Alek. They’ll stop you.”

Alek paused, letting his hand fall back to his side, before turning back to Jordan. If he didn’t ask her now, he might not ever know. “How do you know all of this, Jordan? I mean, I get that the Gift giving is some kind of psychic deal. That’s not exactly a secret. But how do you know all about Cameron?”

Her eyes glistened with tears, and when she spoke, her voice cracked slightly. “Cameron and I were engaged.”

Engaged. And then Cameron went away forever. It had to be an impossible thing to face—losing your fiancé in one way or another. Either by him disappearing completely or leaving town forever. “I’m sorry.”

“The day I gave him his Gift, he told Mr. Whirly and me about his plans to leave. Mr. Whirly used to be a joyous man, full of a bubbly, infectious spirit. But he changed after hearing Cameron’s plans. He just seemed … darker.” She lifted the corner of her apron and dabbed at her eyes. “Cameron didn’t really have a chance after that. He made it to the bottom of the big hill before he disappeared. I was there. I saw the whole thing happen. He simply … ceased to be. It was horrible. I don’t want it to happen to anyone else.”

Alek watched her for a moment, wishing he could take her pain away. Then he reached out and gave her hand a squeeze. She squeezed his back, and they exchanged nods before putting on false pleasantries. By the time Alek opened the door, all seemed well with the two of them, though it was anything but.

Sara crammed the remainder of a half-eaten cookie in her mouth and chewed fast before swallowing. As she skipped across the porch to Alek, who was closing the door behind him, she said, “So? What’s your Gift?”

Alek remembered what Jordan had said about Mr. Whirly. “I can’t tell you just yet. But I know where to go to get it.”

“That’s weird. Where do you have to go?” She followed him down the steps, a doubtful crease in her forehead.

Alek paused as they reached the next block. He had to get rid of Sara, couldn’t risk her changing like Mr. Whirly had with Cameron. What if Jordan was right? What if the townspeople really were the town? He couldn’t fully trust anyone. Maybe not even Jordan—something that sent a nervous chill down his spine. Shrugging casually, he couldn’t help but notice Virginia toiling in her flower beds again. “The north side of town. I can go get it and bring it back.”

“Don’t be stupid. I’ll come with you.” The words had no sooner left her mouth than Virginia looked up at them, a burning curiosity in her gaze. On any other day, Alek might not have noticed such blatant curiosity. But today was different. Today was his last day in Misery, one way or the other.

He lowered his voice, trying to keep any sense of nervousness out of his tone. “I’d kinda like to get it on my own, okay?”

Sara threw her arms up in exasperation. “Why are you acting so weird?”

Virginia had stood up then and approached her picket fence. Mr. Hoffman had stopped on the sidewalk where he was walking his poodle. Both stared at Alek with an intensity that solidified his belief in Jordan’s words.

Alek tugged Sara’s sleeve and headed north. He had no choice but to take her with him. “I’m not. Come on, then.”

Sara moved up the sidewalk with him, but slowly, almost reluctantly. They’d moved two blocks before Alek felt eyes on him, almost burning their gaze into his back. Glancing as casually as he could manage over his right shoulder, he noticed Mr. Hoffman following from about a block away.
He was pulling back on his poodle’s leash as it barked and showed its teeth in a way that Alek had never seen it do before. Behind Mr. Hoffman by a matter of steps was Virginia, who had seemed so kind and caring just a few minutes before he’d set foot in Jordan’s house. But there was no kindness in her face now. Misery had changed with the mention of a single word:
nothing
. “Alek, slow down!”

Sara was jogging beside him now. Alek hadn’t even realized that he’d instinctively picked up his pace. But he couldn’t slow down, couldn’t face whatever it was that Virginia and Mr. Hoffman had planned for him.

As he reached the final street block at the foot of the hill, Sara panting behind him, he dared a glance over his shoulder again. Several more townspeople were hurrying to his current location, none of them looking happy at all. Mr. Whirly was bringing up the rear. Alek couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw a large gray crow circling overhead. But the hill was right there! He was so close to freedom, so close to being safe. He turned back to the hill with a determined breath. And a familiar hand fell on his left shoulder.