Intuition: The Premonition Series (25 page)

“Yeah, I’m not completely useless,” I reply with a reassuring grin.

“I know that,” she says quickly, like she’s afraid she hurt my feelings. “We have to avoid all the things that the Fallen like. So that means we have to stay out of bars. If you get buddies that want to go there, you have to make some excuse not to go because we can’t take the risk.”

“I don’t have a fake ID anymore, Red—well, not one that’ll get me in a bar. Henry is only nineteen,” I remind her, givin’ the excuse I’ll use for avoidin’ the bar.

“That’s right. You left your old fake ID in Crestwood,” she says as she bites her lower lip, while I nod again. “Okay, good,” she says, tryin’ to shake off her sadness. “Um, we need to avoid any big celebrations or things that wealthy people do.” When I look confused, she says, “Ah, this is tough because it’s a judgment call. Let’s say that there is going to be a big fireworks display for the Fourth of July or something. We shouldn’t go because angels really like fireworks. You should’ve seen Buns talk about them, like they’re the sickest things ever. I think it’s because angels are born of fire,” she says casually.

“Huh?” I ask.

“What?” she counters.

“Angels are born of fire?” I ask.

“Yeah. Reed mentioned that once and Buns let it slip, too. I’m not quite sure if it’s a literal interpretation or a figurative one, but I’m betting on the literal because Buns is not very abstract.”

“What are we born of then?” I ask, tryin’ to understand her.

She shrugs and says, “We are born of the earth…dust to dust as they say.”

“So now we are fire and earth?” I ask.

“Yeah, now all we need is wind and we’ll be a band,” she replies. “Anyway, let me think… oh yeah, try not to do anything that wealthy people do.”

“What do wealthy people do?” I ask with a smirk.

“I don’t know…don’t go yachting,” she says flippantly, and I can’t contain my laughter at that one.

“Is that an option where we’re goin’?” I ask as I see that my laugh has helped her find her smile.

“Yes. We’re going to Houghton. It’s a port town in the Upper Peninsula on the Portage Waterway in the Keweenaw Peninsula near Lake Superior,” she says slowly, as if she is recallin’ somethin’ she had memorized from a book. “It’s a college town, but it’s like Crestwood in that it’s small enough not to interest the Fallen and big enough so that we can retain some anonymity and try to blend in with the humans. There is nothing too over the top there. I researched it. It used to be a mining town: copper mines.

“Great, maybe I can be a miner,” I say, thinkin’ that no angel will be lookin’ for me down in a huge hole in the ground.

“No,” Red says with her brows drawn together. “You’re going to take the SATs as Henry Grant, and then you’re going to enroll in the technology school in Houghton as a freshmen. You’re getting an education, Hank,” she says in a stern tone as if I have no say in the matter at all.

“Oh yeah? How am I supposed to pay for that?” I ask, thinkin’ we may not even get a chance to take midterms before we have to leave for some reason. We have to be mobile, ready to leave at a moments notice, not tied to a schedule and certainly not throwin’ thousands of dollars away on an education we may not be able to stick around long enough to get.

“I’m paying for it,” she says quickly.

“How?” I ask with suspicion in my voice.

“I signed my uncle’s house over to Ryan. He gave me a fair price for it in a cashier’s check. Now I can pay for it and we can live for a while,” she explains, scannin’ my face.

“Red, I can’t let ya pay for me like that,” I reply, repulsed.

“I’m not going to argue about this with you. You’re going to school and that’s the end of it,” she stiffens, lookin’ out the window.

“No, it’s not!” I reply like she has lost her freakin’ mind, which she has.

“Yes, it is,” she says stubbornly as she turns back again and I see her stiff posture. She is gearin’ up for a fight and is ’bout to let me have it. “You have to go to school. I can’t live with you being a miner down in some hole all day long. You have to get an education. I insist.”

“Why?” I ask, ‘cuz there is a shadow behind her eyes that showin’ such a need, a desperation for somethin’. When she is silent I add, “Ya better tell me, Red, ‘cuz I’m ’bout to dig in and once I do y’all will never convince me to change my mind.”

“Because I stole your future, Russell. I stole your name; I stole your life from you. How can you sit there and look at me like I’m the only person in the world, when I have all but destroyed you?” she asks as more tears escape her eyes. She uses her fists to wipe them away harshly, like she is angry that she is cryin’ again.

“Y’all didn’t do any of those things, Red,” I say, watchin’ her duck her head and look away from me. “I’m serious. Y’all haven’t done this to me.”

“Then who did it, Russell?” she whispers so low I can barely hear her.

“Hey, that’s Henry to you, Lillian,” I reply, ignorin’ her scowl. “Red, this is somethin’ that was meant to be long before I met ya at Crestwood. Ya think ya did this?” I ask her, lookin’ at her and seein’ her nod. “Well, then, yer stupid and arrogant,” I reply.

“Thanks a lot, Hank, I feel so much better now,” she mutters.

“Naw, ya are. If ya think yer capable of doin’ all this alone, without the help of Heaven, then yer foolish. This is meant. I feel it. I have a mission here, and like it or not, it involves ya. I have no idea yet what we’re supposed to be doin’, but I’m sure it’s gonna be comin’, whether we want to deal with it or not and it’s gonna be messy, and ugly, and painful,” I say, lookin’ at her like she is the child and I’m the adult. I am the adult. I’m thousands of years old, and unlike her, I remember every one of them.

“Our only mission, Hank, is to survive long enough to see tomorrow. Then tomorrow, our mission will be to survive until the next day. One day at a time,” she says pessimistically.

“Okay, you go on thinkin’ that and see where ya get,” I reply unsympathetically “Meanwhile, I’ll be lookin’ out for the signs that are comin’.”

“Do you need a crystal ball for that? I could pick one up for you,” she says with sarcasm.

“Naw, I just need ya. That’s it,” I reply easily.

“So you’ll go to school then?” she asks me in a rhetorical way.

“We’ll see,” I reply, not givin’ in to her bossy attitude.

“I’m going to work on you until you agree,” she says, like she’s tellin’ me somethin’ I don’t already know.

“Yes. I know,” I reply, ignorin’ her again.
She is torn up inside. Raw,
I think as she sits quietly, watchin’ the scenery goin’ by outside. She looks so sad that I have a feelin’ I’m gonna be promisin’ her anythin’ in a little while just to see if I can ease some of her pain.

Dusk is upon us when we pull into Mackinaw City. I can hardly stand when the bus comes to a stop at the depot. I put my hand out to Red to help her out into the aisle, and then I take our bags and place my hand on the small of her back as we walk off the bus. I’m so relieved to be off that hunk of metal I can shout it to the world. But, lookin’ at Red, she looks ill.

Watchin’ in shock, Red bolts from the depot, runnin’ in a fraction of a second ‘round the corner of the buildin’. I spring forward, tryin’ to follow her, panickin’ as I wonder what is happenin’. When I round the corner, I find her clutchin’ a garbage can and heavin’, but since she hasn’t eaten anythin’ today, she isn’t throwin’ anythin’ up. After a while she stops and uses the back of her hand to wipe her mouth.

“I have to go back, Russell,” she whispers to me when she can speak. “I can’t feel him anymore,” she says, clutchin’ her stomach like it aches. “He’s going to think I betrayed him. I have to go back,” she says again, and her whole body is shakin’ like a true junkie.

“Y’all didn’t betray him and he won’t think that ya did. He’ll know why y’all did it. I left him the paper ya used to convince me to come with ya. He’ll know. He’ll see,” I whisper back.

She groans again and heaves some more with the same result, except this time, her hands crush the sides of the metal garbage can where she is holdin’ on to it. I look ‘round to make sure no one is nearby to witness it, not like I can do anythin’ to stop her. “He is probably way past panic by now. What is he going to do when he can’t find me?” she asks, starin’ at me with wild eyes.

“I don’t know,” I say, wantin’ to help her, but not knowin’ how. “But at least, if that Pagan shows up, y’all won’t be there to make him a traitor. They’ll see that he isn’t helpin’ ya and he’ll be safe.”

She nods then, standin’ up a little straighter. “We don’t stand a chance, Russell,” she whispers to me, lookin’ grim.

“My name’s Henry and I say we do. You are one huge ass kicker, Red, and when I get my wings, I’m gonna make sure every fallen angel I meet ceases to be. Now, straighten up and let’s go before we attract unwanted attention,” I order, takin’ charge. She’s a mess and the sooner I can get her to the car the better. Takin’ her by the elbow, I ask, “What are we lookin’ for?”

She reaches into her backpack then, pullin’ out an orange locker key. I locate the locker and when I open it, there are two sets of keys inside and a letter. I take the keys and hand the letter to Red. She reads the letter, and then looks up and says, “Jeep Cherokee Sport, four-door, white.”

“Sweet,” I say, and mean it. I was afraid I was gonna have to cram my body into some little hatchback, and after gettin’ out of that bus, a Jeep Cherokee sounds like a little slice of Heaven. “We’ll have to send Ryan a fruit basket.”

I nudge Red toward the parkin’ lot and we locate the Jeep with little trouble. I open the passenger door for her and help her in the car before roundin’ the car and gettin’ in the driver’s side. I start the engine and let the car warm up while lookin’ at Red. It’s decision time again. I know this is one of the weakest moments she’s ever gonna have, but we have to discuss whether to press on or turn back. We have to do this together, or not at all.

“Who are we, Red?” I ask her, lookin’ straight out the windshield.

“What?” she asks, like she is numb.

“Are we Evie and Russell? Or, are we Lillian and Henry?” I ask in a gentle tone. I wait for her to respond, watchin’ as people walk by the car, laughin’ in their happy human existences.

“We’re both,” she says in a monotone voice.

“No, we’re not. We’re one, or we’re the other,” I say patiently. “So you decide now, so I’ll know which way to head, north or south.”

She is quiet for so long I begin to think that she is incapable of answerin’ me. “I’m Lillian Lucas and you are Henry Grant,” she says stiffly, and there is so much sorrow in her words she is almost chokin’ on them.

“Okay then,” I exhale deeply, puttin’ the car in reverse and backin’ out of the parkin’ space before headin’ out to the highway. I turn north and we are immediately crossin’ the huge Mackinaw Bridge that connects the Lower Peninsula of Michigan with the Upper Peninsula. It’s mad cool and I can’t stop myself from askin’, “What Lake is this we’re drivin’ over?”

“It’s Lake Michigan,” she murmurs as we both marvel at the majesty of the suspension bridge that seems to float in the sky above the beautiful blue water below us.

“Yeah? Well, it is beautiful. I can’t wait to see Lake Superior. Is the swimmin’ good?” I ask and see her lips twitch in an almost smile.

“Yeah.” she says. “If you enjoy being a Popsicle.”

“It’s cold then?” my brow arches as I smile.

“Cold is an understatement. You’ll need angel skin to enjoy it if you try to swim now. Lake Huron is warmer,” she says informatively. Payin’ the toll on the other side of the bridge, I follow the signs west toward Escanaba. We plan to continue to head west toward Iron Mountain and from there we will travel north to Houghton.

We drive for a while on a two-lane road that winds through a few touristy small towns, and then all of a sudden, the road opens up near the water and the sun is settin’ on Lake Michigan. I can almost believe that I am lookin’ at an ocean instead of a lake. It is pristine; the sand is almost white as the beach spreads out before us with wild tumbled stones spikin’ through the breakers, lookin’ as empty as the day it was created. Not a soul is roamin’ ‘round near it. I can’t believe that there aren’t mobs of people out there enjoyin’ its beauty. “Where are all the people, Red?” I ask her, stunned.

“People don’t know,” she says, lookin’ at the water. “It’s so wild, untamed. I expect most people like their water warmer and a little more to do—more tourist stuff.”

“Yeah. People are crazy,” I reply, watchin’ the water on and off until it disappears behind thick pine trees. As we drive on, I become aware of the fact that we haven’t eaten at all since breakfast. “You hungry?” I ask. She shakes her head no. “I keep seein’ these signs for pasties. Do you know what they are?” I ask.

She smiles a little, and then says, “It’s meat and potatoes wrapped up in a dough and baked in an oven. There are different kinds. You can get them with cheese and vegetables in them too, but they’re traditionally meat and potatoes.”

“That sounds good. Let’s stop and get some. I’m starvin’,” I say.

I pull over at a small cinderblock buildin’ whose sign says, “Fresh Pasties.” We both come in to use the bathroom, but then Red heads right back out to the car as I order several kinds to go. The girl behind the counter is chatty and keeps askin’ me where I am from because of my accent. I tell her I’m from Alabama, even though I don’t sound a thing like someone from Alabama. She can’t tell ‘cuz we all sound the same to her. Takin’ the food back out to the car, I get in and hand Red a pasty that is wrapped in tin foil and a bottle of water. She takes it from me, but doesn’t look like she is gonna eat it.