Flashback (8 page)

She watched him as his face shuttered up and blanked every expression out, something coming over his thoughts like a dark blanket. She thought of those terrifying nightmares and the horrible dread when she woke from them, and she thought she understood. It wasn’t easy to talk about, those dreams. She’d never even told her mother what they were about. “You see?” she said, shrugging with a gesture that was unconsciously helpless. “You need time as much as I. Only,” and her eyes raised to the sun as something dark shadowed her vision, “only I can’t help but wonder how much time we have left.”

She wasn’t even aware of how she had used the plural instead of singular in that last muttered statement, and though his head came up sharply and his eyes widened, he didn’t tell her.

Chapter Four

Dana dragged her feet through the grass as she walked back to her house alone. She tried in vain to recapture some sense of peace or tranquility, some sense of what she’d been like last month, or a few weeks ago. She couldn’t. Something was changing in her, and it only partially had something to do with the nightmares that she was so mentally receptive to.

It had quite a lot to do with David Raymond. He seemed to be the cause, or the catalyst for many of the unfamiliar feelings inside of her, and the differences. She’d reached a new plateau of living; she’d taken a step in growth, and it was a measure of her seclusion and isolation that she was somewhat surprised to find herself and her awareness shifting. She had taken a step forward and now, looking back, she saw another girl in the past, the girl that she had been. She could no longer identify with that girl. It seemed to be the difference between an adolescent and an adult.

Forced as she was to empathise with another, strange adult, she’d managed to mature in some way. She was no longer in a glass cage looking out, no longer the lone princess in the castle. She hadn’t realised how little she’d empathised with her mother, close though they were. Perhaps it was that very closeness that had caused them to keep somewhat distant. Whatever the reason, Dana found that she really was a world apart from her mother, and that was a new and strange feeling, one that she’d never thought to have. Adolescent rifts with the parent had always happened to someone else, but never to Dana. She’d known too much, had been too aware of what was going on, at least that was what she’d thought. Now, looking back, she had to smile wryly as she recognised in herself for the first time that typical adolescent arrogance. She’d known it all, then. She was an old woman in a teenager’s body, and nobody knew it. She was the authority, the ultimate in worldly cynicism and weary wisdom. She was so young.

Dana was beginning to see just how normal she was in some aspects, and it was laughable in a way. She stopped walking and propped herself up on a waist high rock, staring at the pattern of fallen pine needles, brown and dry, that cushioned the forest floor. How deflating it was to recognise something like that! She was the special one, the freak, the different and unique one. That had always been her pride and despair, the source of both her joy and sorrow.

And now she was finding that she wasn’t so different after all. She was finding that she didn’t recognise the feelings that David Raymond prompted in her, either from the store of her own experiences or the wealth of her vicarious knowledge. It was just something she knew nothing about. It was an attraction she’d never before dreamed could exist.

And there, it was out in her consciousness now. She looked at the thought, mentally sniffed at it and examined it from all sides and reluctantly had to admit it was true. She was attracted to David. It was an attraction different from anything she’d known. It wasn’t just the attraction for a kindred spirit or a likeable person, it was much more than that; there was something elemental about it, something having to do with the fact that he was a personable male. She liked that maleness of him, that alien quality that complemented her femininity. She liked the man on different levels. She liked his mind and that he was a strong man of deep emotions and hard control. She liked his fairness and his ability to understand something outside of his experience, and sympathise. She liked how he was able to really listen to what was said and not just hear the words. She liked how he had reached out to cradle her hand when he thought she needed support, how he was secure in himself enough to offer the support right then instead of merely feeling uncomfortable and looking away, like so many people did. And last of all, that unfamiliar feeling she was only now experiencing, wholly on her own and for the first time in her life, that quite frankly attraction to his masculinity.

Self-conscious at the newness of it and the unexpected awareness of her own femininity, she shrugged a little and laughed under her breath, hopping down from the rock. It was silly. He very probably didn’t notice her at all. The one thing she could do without right at the moment was a typical case of adolescent infatuation, on top of everything else. That was what she feared it was, for her confidence in herself was badly shaken at her new and deeper self-knowledge.

She devoutly hoped that she wouldn’t make a fool of herself.

Back at the house, Dana found her mother busy in the kitchen, making supper. She closed the door quietly on the evening swarm of bugs, watching as her mother quickly turned and came forward immediately. She could feel the older woman’s concern and smiled reassuringly. “I just needed some breathing space, Mom. What are we having for supper?”

Denise searched her daughter’s pale, tired face. “You’re sure you are all right? Did David manage to find you after all?”

“Yes, he did,” Dana replied, a slight frown creasing her brow. “Which was surprising to me, but then random occurrences do happen.” A lightning quick, half smiling glance at her mother. “I was trying to remain private, you see, and hadn’t realised that I could be found as easily as that.” She went over to the refrigerator and took out the milk, pouring herself a full glass and draining it thirstily.

Denise went back to the stove and Dana peered over her shoulder at the spaghetti sauce she was making. Dana could sense that there were still questions that her mother wanted to ask her, but all she said was, “Is everything all right, Dana? You’re okay?”

She took a great big breath and then heaved it in a sigh, feeling the ever present weight of that dangerous tension and the fine tremor in her hands. “I don’t know.” She didn’t look up as her mother glanced at her sharply. “I wish I could say yes, but there’s something happening that I don’t understand and can’t control.” She shrugged again and said helplessly, “I don’t know.”

Denise stirred the sauce and put down the large spoon very carefully, as if the precise position of the spoon on the stovetop was hugely important. “It’s something to do with David, isn’t it?”

Dana jerked and she was glad that her mother wasn’t looking at her to see the tell-tale reaction. She’d nearly spilled her milk. She could have told the truth. She could have said yes. But all she said was, again, a rather miserable, “I don’t know.”

Denise said softly, “I’m worried about you.” And Dana privately agreed. She was worried about herself, too. She made a move to sit down at the table and then stopped and turned around to look at her mother.

“Do you know who I’m worried about?” she asked. “I think I’m worried about David.” She wondered why her mother felt and looked so surprised.

“Are you really? I wouldn’t be,” Denise said, smiling slightly. “That’s a man who won’t lose control, if I’m any judge of character. He has a good hold on himself.”

That’s what I’m worried about, she thought, and wondered why the thought had come out of the blue like it had. It was true, but she hadn’t really seen it as a danger before. She rather saw it as something to be envied, a trait she wished she had, that ability to lock oneself away, to click in a remote part of oneself away from all of the outside influences and inputs, to be able to divorce oneself from one’s most dangerous and overwhelming emotions. It seemed a characteristic that could be potentially harmful, if one became locked away too tightly and got trapped. All of those repressed emotions would seethe and boil away under the surface until something blew apart. There had to be an outlet as well as a refuge in oneself. She wished she had that kind of control, though. She didn’t have a problem with her own emotional output so much as she did her input. She was all on the surface, too close to the open air, her vulnerable self exposed.

That night Dana had another dream. It was not a screamingly horrifying nightmare. It was just quietly frightening. She dreamed that there was something after her in the dark, something silently stalking. She could never rest or sit down, though she was so very tired. She knew that if she could keep awake and ahead of that something, she would be all right. She had good reflexes and was quick on her feet. But the problem was that she was so very tired. She knew that if she went to sleep, she would die. And she knew at the same time that she was dreaming, but she couldn’t make herself wake up. All she could do was sweat it out, that eternity of stalking and being stalked, trying to get back home to the safe place. But there was no safe place. Nothing was safe. Everything was, however, very dark.

In time the dream faded away and she was able to sleep on undisturbed the rest of the night. But when she woke up she remembered that dream, though she didn’t understand it.

Dana ripped out of bed and got dressed as quickly as she could, not understanding why she felt such an urgent need to get covered. She grabbed her clothes out of the closet, a tan pair of slacks and an olive green shirt, and put on her comfortable tennis shoes. After she had finished, she felt a bit better and she went down to the kitchen to fix herself some kind of breakfast. Instead of cooking herself something, she went to the cupboard and found a can of peaches and had them with milk. She ate quickly, wolfing down her food though she had no appetite. She’d need the energy later. She had to get done quickly.

Her head hurt and that was strange, for she rarely got headaches of any kind, but her head was definitely hurting now and she rubbed her temples irritably. Her mother walked into the kitchen right at that moment and saw her.

“Good morning, dear. What’s wrong? Do you have a headache?” Denise asked her, patting her briefly on the shoulder as she went by.

Dana sighed shortly. “Yes. I think it’s from the heat. At least it feels like it’s from the heat. I don’t know.” She barely noticed her mother’s raised eyebrows.

“That’s funny,” Denise said slowly, watching Dana. “I’m not hot at all. We’re supposed to have a fairly mild day today, from the weather reports.” She came up to Dana and put her fingers on her daughter’s forehead. “You don’t seem to have a fever.”

Dana shook off her mother’s hand. “No, no, I’m fine. I just have a headache and I’m a little warm, that’s all. I’ll take some aspirin and be fine. Do we have any salt tablets?”

“Salt tablets—for what?” her mother asked, astonished.

She blinked. “Nothing. For nothing.” She shook her head and winced at the throbs of pain. “I’m not sure where that came from.” She smiled at her mother, trying to hide how her heart was pounding and her palms were sweating. It was like an anxiety attack, or a surge of adrenalin, and she licked dry lips. Suddenly she needed action and she stood up. “I think I’m going to walk to the store this morning, instead of waiting until tomorrow. I need the exercise. Is there anything special you’d like me to buy?”

Her mother was still watching her, slightly frowning, unsure. Dana didn’t look at her and she said slowly, “There’s nothing that really can’t wait. I’d rather you didn’t go just yet, dear. Dana, what—what’s going on?”

She heard her mother ask the question and she heard herself reply, as if she were someone else. “I’m splitting wide open.” Her hand crept up to her throat, as if surprised at what she’d said, as if to hold back the words. She shook her head again to try to clear out the cobwebs, her vision clouding. “I don’t know, Mom. There’s something racing along inside of me that I can’t stop, like a snowball falling down a hill, going to someplace and building up momentum, I—” Her eyes sharpened on her mother’s worried visage. “—I need some action. I’ll be back in a little bit.”

And with that, in spite of her mother’s protests, Dana got some money out of her purse and left the house, heading for the store. Maybe she would stop at the post office and get some stamps. They only had a few left and they would be paying bills soon. Her eyes travelled to the sky and she felt a drop of sweat trickle down the side of her face. Maybe she would stop at the drug store and pick up some salt tablets. She wouldn’t be surprised if it broke a hundred degrees today.

Back in the house, Denise stood and bit at her lip in indecision. Then she made up her mind and picked up the phone book by the telephone, her finger travelling down a list of names until she reached Mrs. Cessler’s phone number. She then picked up the receiver and dialed quickly, hoping that David hadn’t seen fit to change the number when he moved in. She stood there for a very long time, listening to the phone ring on and on, with no one there to answer.

Dana wandered on down the pavement, not really paying attention to anything around her. She was lost in her own thoughts, struck by a mental image. She felt that tight wire inside of her, but now she rather fancied herself walking over the taut, vibrating wire, and the wire was stretched over the pit. She shrugged off such fanciful thinking as she realised that she was in front of the store. The post office was across the street. She headed there first since she could put the stamps in her pocket and she didn’t fancy juggling her packages while trying to buy stamps. As she paid for them rather absentmindedly, her head snapped up like a leash being pulled tight on her neck.