Salem's Sight (16 page)

And it was. I’d been blaming myself
for living. Deep down I knew I hadn’t caused the accident, the
drunk that hit us had. I hadn’t done anything wrong.

Except push my mother away after it
happened.

That was the only thing I was going to
need to come to terms with. It’s not that I wanted to hurt her. I
didn’t. It’s just Dad was always in the middle with his ‘girls’ on
either side. Maybe I just felt like Mom was trying to fill his
space. And it bugged me.

I mean, I love her – but as Mom. I
don’t want her to try to be Dad too. That’s a space she shouldn’t
try to fill. But since I recognized it, I was determined to be more
thoughtful of her feelings.

Berkley wrinkled her nose and I could
tell she was rating the shrink ‘eww’ factor. “That must be tough
seeing Robby’s dad like that.”

Talk about an understatement. Having a
shrink at all managed to make the top ten list of why my life
bites. But then add in the fact that he’s Robby’s dad. I mean,
really. How many shrinks have the added pleasure of a patient
dating one of their children? Not many, I’m sure.

“
Sort of. Okay, so it’s
freaky weird. But I like him and he’s pretty cool. I just haven’t
told him any of my extra problems,” I said making little quotation
mark gestures with my fingers around the word extra.

“
You haven’t told him that
you’re psychic?” Berkley acted like I was going into a confessional
and leaving out my biggest sin.

“
Um, hello, I’m dating his
son. I mean I want help dealing with the accident. That’s normal.
But my other issues, well…” How do you tell a shrink, someone with
access to the psycho ward that you’re the girl with something
extra?

“
He’s a professional,” she
said like I’d somehow missed something important.

That was one of the few problems with
Berkley; she was a little too absorbed with titles and degrees.
More knowledge didn’t always help the situation. That depended on
the type of information the individual had.

“
Salem, he’s a
professional,” she said again like I missed it the first
time.

Oh sure, like that mattered. It only
made the situation worse. “He’s a doctor, you know, medical, …
science, not likely to believe in fortune tellers.” I had thought
this was a no brainer.

“
But so much of what you’re
dealing with really centers around your psychic dreams,” she
persisted. “What’s the matter? You look strange.” She stood up and
walked over to the window where I was standing and looked
out.

“
I am strange. That’s the
point.” As my biggest advocate she was about to protest but I kept
talking. “And I haven’t had a chance to tell you the
latest.”

I paused to get up the courage to say
it out loud. Berkley waited patiently while my vocal cords mustered
up the strength. “Remember the sound? You thought it might be
popcorn. Well it’s not. It’s my mom. I saw her get
shot.”

Berkley’s jaw dropped open and hung,
her incredulity oozing out into the air. “Omigod, omigod, omigod!
What are you going to do? Have you told her?”

For all the good it did. She didn’t
get that my mother refused to acknowledge her daughter wasn’t
traditionally normal. Well that wasn’t true. She did believe the
psychic part, just not when it applied to her. “Yeah, I told her
but she still doesn’t believe me. She thinks I’m just afraid I’ll
lose her too.”

Berkley glanced away in contemplation
then twirled a strand of hair around and around until I thought
she’d pull it out. I kept quiet while she worked out her
conclusion. “Could she be right?” she finally asked.

Thanks for the vote of confidence. I
hadn’t anticipated her siding with my mother. Don’t you just love
it when your own friends question you? “No. She’s not right about
this.”

“
I hoped for your sake
there was something to what your mother said. So not even the
remotest possibility?”

She wanted me to be wrong. Hell, I
wanted me to be wrong. I shook my head. “No. I know the difference
between a regular dream and one of my sightings.”

In spite of the seriousness of the
conversation the corner of her mouth turned up in a smirk.
“Sighting? It sounds like you’re talking about Bigfoot or the Loch
Ness Monster.”

I had to laugh. Only Berkley would
point out how crazy the other things sounded while at the same time
believing in ghosts and psychics.

“
I might as well be since I
can’t get a handle on it. But I’m not sure what else to call it and
that’s what it reminds me of. I see a picture in my head, kind of a
digital camera shot. Sometimes it’s a still and others there’s a
few seconds of movement like in video. Then other times it’s more
of a slide show, only fast.”

And that’s what it was like. A little
bit different every time, making it that much more difficult to
master.

Twirling that same piece of hair into
a death grip, Berkley finally announced, “You need to tell Robby’s
dad.”

No, now if there was one thing I
didn’t need, it was that. “I can’t.”

Unfortunately, when she thinks she’s
right, Berkley can be a bit of a bulldog. “You need to. Maybe he
can help.”

“
Sure. Help send me to an
institution. Um, I’m not exactly dying to find out how electric
shock therapy feels.” As much as I liked Robby’s dad and respected
him I also knew it wasn’t in his nature to believe in my type of
ability. He was one hundred percent science.

She closed in on me and stood only
about a foot away, her eyes imploring, looking directly into my
mine. “So bring the video camera.”

She lost me there for a minute. What
could the video camera have to do with my ability?

“
Show him the hair ribbon
hanging in space. Tell him about your grandmother. You’ve got to
try.”

I almost laughed out loud. Yeah,
right. Talk about making an impression. “Great, tell him not only
that I’m psychic, but I hear dead people? Think about it
Berkley.”

I put my hands up to my head and
started to massage my temples as I paced. They were starting to
throb. She was right though. I had to do something; I just wasn’t
sure Dr. Martin was the answer.

****

I stood outside the door with my
finger raised and perched above the bell. Sooner or later I’d have
to press it. But then I needed to decide about my dilemma before I
entered the house. Who to tell? Robby? Dr. Martin? Or the other
choice – tell no one. Figure out my problems on my own. That was
probably the best thing I could do. I was still debating the issue
– eeny, meeny, miny, moe – when the door opened.

“
Dr. Martin.” There was no
question about it. He caught me standing there like a brainless
idiot.

“
Hi, come on in. Robby’s
upstairs.” He stepped out of the way for me to enter. “Hold on,
I’ll call him.”

My intellect went out the window and
instinct took over. I needed help and I needed an adult on my side.
Well, a live one anyway. The dead ones didn’t always answer when
you called. “No, wait. I do want to see him, but I was hoping I
could talk to you first. I know it’s not a scheduled
appointment…”

“
You can talk to me any
time.” He placed his hand on my shoulder more dad-like than
shrink-like. It gave me a small dose of courage and I thought I
might actually be able to get through my outing.

He smiled reassuringly. “I thought I’d
hear from you and I think I know what’s bothering you.”

This was going to be interesting. If
he could guess this one then he was even more psychic than I
was.

“
You’ll be expected to take
the road test now that the course is completed. And you should,
even though I know you don’t want to.”

Okay, random, and so way off base. No
psychic ability on his part. “I can’t. That’s something I just
can’t do.”

He ran his hand through his hair and
traces of gray became more visible. “You didn’t think you could
take the class and look how well that turned out.” He smiled again,
the ‘you can do it’ kind of smile that’s supposed to give
confidence.

It didn’t. I cursed my luck. How could
we have ended up having this conversation when there were other
more important issues that needed to be addressed? “This is
different.”

“
I know. This will be much
more difficult to conquer, but eventually you must. If you don’t
it’ll ruin your life.”

If I don’t get some help now my life
will be ruined anyway. Fear, like an army of ants at a picnic,
started nipping at me until my composure was completely gone. “I
hate being in cars with anyone. But the thought of being in
control…”

“
That’s understandable and
you might not ever enjoy it. But what if you have to? You can’t
spend your entire life not driving. What about when you’re older
and have children? What if you had to take one of them to the
doctor’s office? Are you going to rely on someone else? Take a
taxi?”

Okay, so the guy did make sense. I
mean, I’m not exactly stupid, I did understand what being a
non-driver would mean to an adult. I could feel the tears start to
well in the back of my eyes. It’s not like I’d ever be up for this
debate, but I was so not up for it now.

“
You can’t let it control
you. Take the test, Salem. Just because you have your license
doesn’t mean you have to drive. It just means you can when you
decide to. Just a few minutes behind the wheel and you’ll have that
option.”

Just when I was about to lose it Robby
rounded the corner of the room. “Salem.” His smile froze as he
looked at his dad and me.

“
I was just talking to your
dad.” Yup, state the obvious. Sometimes I was so like my
mother.

“
Seems a little intense in
here,” he said as he frowned at his father. Oh great, now he’d be
mad at his dad. And he shouldn’t be, this was doctor-patient
business.

“
I was trying to convince
Salem to take the road test and get her license.”

“
I’m sure she will when
she’s ready,” he argued. Oh yeah, he was so itching for a fight
with his dad. This wasn’t all about me, but I wasn’t helping their
relationship at all.

I quickly changed the subject. “So are
you going to paint me or what? I’ve got my dress,” I said as I
pointed to the plastic zip-up clothing sheath draped over the
table.

Robby picked it up and handed it to
me.

“
Bathroom is down the hall
to the left,” Dr. Martin said.

Robby rolled his eyes since it
certainly wasn’t the first time I’d been at his house. Maybe he
just had the need to say something that didn‘t have anything to do
with what we were arguing about.

My mama didn’t raise no fool. I
high-tailed it down the hall so fast my feet barely touched the
floor. Then I locked myself in the bathroom so I could change and
think while I was doing it. Well, that certainly didn’t go as
planned. I anticipated problems, but I never thought we wouldn’t
even get to the topic.

I put on the dress and zipped it as
high as I could. I’d need Robby to zip the last bit at the top.
Then I used a large barrette and pinned it in the back of my hair
so that most of it was held up off my neck but long tendrils hung
down while smaller ones cascaded around my face.

I looked like her. A lot like her.
There would be no way to know the two portraits were of two
different people. I took one last look and a deep breath before
walking out of the bathroom.

Robby had already gone out to the
studio so I hitched up the bottom of my dress so it wouldn’t get
dirty and held my backpack with my other clothes in it over my
shoulder.

Robby turned toward me when I opened
the door and the look on his face was unbelievable. If I didn’t
know better I’d have thought that some movie star or celebrity had
just walked in.

But then again, I forgot, today I was
the muse.

He set me up where he wanted me,
zipped up the top of my dress, and finished setting up his paints.
Then he went to his Ipod in the corner of the room and rather than
the music he normally played when we were out, classical music
filled the air.

At first I was surprised, but not when
he started painting. He didn’t speak and there was an intensity, a
focus in his expression that demanded quiet like a test taking
sign.

It didn’t matter though; I was
comfortable, almost taken away by the moment. Peace.
Contentment.

At least for the first few
minutes.

I’m not sure when things began to
change it was that subtle. One second I was perfectly content and
life was good. Then the next… I began to feel edgy,
nervous.

The light from the sun that had been
so welcome and charming a few minutes ago started to flick past my
eyes and cause shadows. Images immerged until the room wasn’t there
as it had been, but instead what I saw was entirely inside my
head.

I could vaguely hear Robby as if in a
distant echo. “Salem, is the sun in your eyes?”