The Truth of Yesterday (20 page)

     “What about you?”

     “What about me? I have choices as well.”

     “No, I mean, what did your tea leaves say?”

     Her smile faltered a little and she reached almost reluctantly towards her mug. She examined the dregs and her smile faded away completely. She was so still and quiet I was afraid to move or make a sound for fear of breaking the spell. Finally, she carefully set the mug down and looked up. I couldn't read the expression in her eyes; it was almost as if she had closed shutters behind them, closing off her emotions from view.

     “Well?” I asked.

     She shook her head slightly. “Don't worry about it.”

     “But...”

     “No, I think that was a message meant for me and me alone. You'd better go before Jake comes home.” She stood and briskly began clearing the table of the mugs. She rinsed hers out before I could say another word, almost as if she was trying to wash away whatever it was she had seen at its bottom. I stood slowly and, as I started to turn and go, I was taken by a sudden urge. I spun around and grabbed Judy in a tight hug. She was surprised at first, but quickly returned the hug just as fiercely.

     “Go,” she said after a moment and gently pushed me away. She turned quickly back to the sink, but not before I saw unshed tears brightening her eyes. What had she seen in that mug that could have caused such a reaction? I wasn't at all sure I wanted to know.

Chapter 9

     I was sitting in my room that night, alternately brooding about-what else?-Micah and my so-called Gifts. The truth was
,
I didn't want to deal with either of them. Generally, my defense system can be best described as the Ostrich Syndrome. In short, I stick my head in the sand and hope it goes away. I have to admit that this approach seldom works in any sort of satisfactory manner. Actually, it only serves to allow whatever situation that caused you to bury your head in the first place to bite you on your exposed rump.

     I should know; I've been bitten more than once.

     Where Micah was concerned, I knew we needed to talk; I just wasn't ready. I was still too hurt and confused. I knew a lot of that was my own doing, but I also knew that I wouldn't be able to have a rational discussion with him about any of this until I had managed to calm myself down. There was no point rushing things and just making the whole situation worse by saying things I would regret later.

     As for the Gifts, I knew Judy was right about them. That didn't mean I had to like it. I didn't want to see dead people and I certainly didn't want to talk to them. I didn't want any sort of psychic gifts. I mean, what would be next? Would I start reading tea leaves too? Would I tell fortunes at carnivals? Or maybe I should shoot for the stars and hope for my own infomercial on TV. People could call in and I'd tell them their fortunes for the low price of $2.95 a minute. On the other hand, that might be preferable to dealing with the dearly departed.

     Someone knocked on my door causing me to jump a little. “Come in,” I called. The door remained closed and no one answered. With a sigh, I heaved myself to my feet and opened the door to find the hallway empty.

     “Very funny, Kane,” I mumbled as I shut the door and turned back to the bed, only to practically jump out of my skin.

     “A bit on edge, aren't we?” Seth asked. He was sprawled across my bed, head propped on one hand, his lips twitching with barely suppressed laughter.

     “I suppose that was your idea of a joke?” I asked rather testily.

     He shrugged a shoulder. “Well, you said you didn't like it when I just appear unannounced so I knocked this time.”

     “Admit it, you love scaring me.”

     “Hey, it's one of the joys of being dead.”

     “If you weren't already dead…”

     “Be nice. I came to talk to you.”

     “And that's supposed to make me want to be nice?”

     Seth rolled his eyes expressively and sat up.
“Seriously, Killian.
We need to talk.”

     
“About what?
If this is about my purported Gifts, I've already had one lecture about them today, I don't need another.”

     “Oh well, I was going to bring that up, but it's not the main reason I'm here. But while we're on the subject, have you made up your mind yet about them?”

     “No, I haven't and I don't intend to be rushed on this either.”

     “Who's rushing you?”

     “You, Judy, Adam…”

     “It's only because we care.”

     “I wish you cared a little less.”

     He frowned. “You don't mean that.”

     I sighed and sat down next to him on the bed. “No, I don't. Not really,” I admitted. “It just gets a little frustrating sometimes. I feel like I don't even have a choice in the matter.”

     “Of course you have a choice. We all have choices. Every minute of every day, we make choices. And you even have choices within the choices. Even if you decide to accept your Gifts and learn to use them, what you do with them is still up to you.”

     “Is it?
What about my big purpose Judy was talking about.”

     His eyes shifted away. “Oh, that.”

     “Yeah, that.” I looked at him closely. “Do you know what it is?”

     He shrugged.

     “You do, don't you?”

     He cleared his throat uneasily. “You know I can't talk about that.”

     “Oh for God's sake…”

     
“Exactly.”

     That stopped me. Rather hard to argue with deity. “Well, can you at least tell me how long I have to get ready?”

     He shook his head, still not meeting my eyes.

     I fought down my aggravation. It wasn't Seth's fault, and I knew that. It wouldn't be fair to take out all my frustrations on him. Then another thought occurred to me. “Is this mysterious purpose why you started coming to see me?”

     He jerked around to look me in the eye. His surprised expression was all the answer I needed. “W-why would you say that?” he stammered.

     It was my turn to shrug. “Not too many people get personal visits from their deceased friends. If the rules are being bent for me, then there must be some pretty significant reasons behind it.”

     Seth opened and closed his mouth a few times before answering. “Not too many people have your Gifts either,” he said finally.

     “And we're back to that.”

     “It all comes back to that eventually,” he said apologetically.

     “You said that wasn't the main reason you came. What was?”

     “This thing with Micah…”

     “I should have known,” I moaned.

     “It's not like that,” he said defensively.

     
“Oh really?
So you're not going to say don't make snap judgments? You're not going to tell me to talk things out with him? And you're not going to tell me to give him the benefit of the doubt?”

     “Ha! You don't know me as well as you think you do. I was also going to tell you that it wouldn't hurt to educate yourself before you made any decisions,” he said archly.

     I stuck my tongue out at him and then frowned. “Educate myself?”

     “Yes.
About escorts.”

     I made a face. “Why would I want to do that?”

     “Because, before you go pulling some sort of holier-than-thou shtick you may want to know what you are condemning.”

     “I'm not condemning anything,” I protested.

     “Aren't you?”

     “No, I'm not.” A pause, “Am I?”

     He gave me a look that clearly said you figure it out for yourself.

     “Why is everything always so hard?” I asked plaintively. He opened his mouth to answer and I rushed on, “And please don't say that I make it hard.”

     His mouth closed with a snap and he grinned at me. “Then I don't have any other answers.”

     I grabbed a pillow from behind me and threw it at him. I was more than a little surprised when it went right through him.

     “Neat trick, huh?” he said with a self-satisfied smirk. “Oh, quit gaping. It's really not attractive.”

     “You know,” I said slowly. “I almost forget sometimes that you aren't really here.”

     “Oh, I'm here; you just forget that I'm not really alive.”

     “Why is it that you don't bother me, but
Amalie
does?”

     He thought a minute before responding. “Well, you knew me. We were friends. That may make it easier. Plus, it's really not quite the same thing, you know.
Amalie's
not really here by choice, like I am. And she can't just leave whenever she wants to and go back to the other side. She's full of pain and anger and you can't help but sense that.”

     “What do you mean I can't help but sense it? Can anyone sense it?”

     “No,” he said slowly.

     “Is it because I can see her?”

     “No,” he said again, dragging the word out.

     “Is it because I can talk to her?”

     “No…”

     
“Oh great?
Is this another Gift?”

     
“Possibly.”

     
“Possibly?
It either is or isn't. So which is it?”