Intuition: The Premonition Series (29 page)

“No. It makes perfect sense to me,” I answer. Her eyebrows draw together in confusion so I add, “I’m a guy, we’re usually like that, but it’s more intense when there’s angel DNA to back it up.” I see her frown.

“You don’t seem to mind it very much,” she points out.

“No. I just have to do a better job of controllin’ it, but it’s not a totally foreign feelin’, if that’s what yer sayin’. Like I said, it’s a guy thing,” I reply, gettin’ out of the car and openin’ up the hatch to get an armload of the bags from the back.

When she comes ‘round the other side of the car to pick up some bags, she looks sullen.

“Wut?” I ask, smilin’.

“Nothing,” she replies, still frownin’ at me like I have lost my mind.

“Seriously, what?” I ask as I follow her back up to the apartment.

She unlocks the door, climbin’ the stairs to the landin’. Openin’ the door, she steps down a step, so the door won’t knock her off the landin’. After she enters the apartment, she goes straight to the kitchenette and places her bags on the counter. She immediately unpacks the bags, and findin’ the cleanin’ supplies, she opens the refrigerator and starts wipin’ it out with soapy water and a sponge.

“Red?” I ask, unpackin’ the bags I brought up from the car.

She sighs. “FINE! Why is all of this so easy for you to accept?” she asks, glarin’ out her frustration. “Because when I found out what I just told you, it was after I almost put a fork in a waitress, and to me it was a big deal.”

“Y’all did that?” I ask, tryin’ to imagine the situation that led her to do that. She had been with Reed no doubt. Just thinkin’ of her havin’ that kind of reaction for him makes the aggressive emotions flair back up in me. I try to play it cool though, so she won’t see how wrecked that thought makes me. I shrug coolly and continue to unpack my bags. “I told ya, this is all meant to be. Maybe it should be easier for me than for y’all, did ya ever think of that?” I ask, ‘cuz she needs a good fight to get out some of the anxiety that’s floatin’ ‘round in her.

“Why should this be easier for you than me? I was born part angel,” she says, her hands on her hips now.

“Yeah, but I had to die to become part angel,” I reply as I pick up one of the sponges and dip it in the soapy water, usin’ it to clean off the shelves in the cupboards.

She doesn’t take the bait I hand her, but instead, she begins cleanin’ again and thinkin’ ’bout what I just said. “Did you die?” she asks, not lookin’ up, but continuin’ on with her task.

“Yeah. I think so. I don’t remember leavin’ ya, but I’m pretty sure I was goin’, even as I was prayin’ to God to let me stay and help ya,” I admit, still workin’ on the shelves.

“You’re so stubborn. Of course you would stay,” she replies. I smile ‘cuz she knows me so well. I have no doubt that she would’ve stayed, too. We finish cleanin’ the kitchenette and puttin’ the groceries away. Red hands me a local newspaper she picked up at the store and asks me to look for a place to buy a couple of mattresses and box springs. She takes all of the toiletries to the bathroom, along with a couple of new dishtowels she had purchased at the grocery store. We don’t have any big towels yet, so we have to make due.

I scan the paper for things we need. Several things come to mind, like tools to fix the door and all the squeaks and loose hinges on the cabinets. Mattresses, bedding, towels, dishes, pots and pans, a garbage can—all of the stuff ya take for granted when they’re available, but absolutely miss when ya don’t have them. I really want a television, too.

I want cable so I can catch some ESPN and maybe watch some baseball or, shoot, anythin’ to do with sports. It makes me feel human to just watch a game. I even got Zee into watchin’ some sport shows, like golf. At first, Zee had been skeptical as to why anyone would want to hit a small ball into a little hole, but when I took him to the indoor drivin’ range, he quickly became hooked on it. I had to warn him not to break the 500-yard sign with his ball. I also had to tell him that humans would find it scary if he got a hole-in-one on every hole, so when he does get a chance to shoot a round, he should make sure to miss a few times. I miss him. I miss havin’ someone besides Red to ask questions about what’s happenin’ to me.

After dusk, we start our surveillance on the Mattress Carnival, a store in town that sells all kinds of beds and beddin’. “Why do ya suppose they call it a Mattress Carnival?” I ask Red offhandedly, as we sit in the car in the parkin’ lot eatin’ the apples and grapes she packed in a small cooler she had bought at the grocery store.

“Maybe they want you to think it’s as fun as a party buying a mattress here,” she replies as a lame explanation.

“Yeah, but carnivals always make me think of clowns and clowns are really kinda freaky, so I really don’t want to buy a mattress here ‘cuz it makes me think of havin’ a clown in my bed.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, Red is laughin’ so hard I think she is not gonna be able to breathe. “Wut?” I ask, smilin’ at her, lovin’ every second of her laughter. “Y’all like clowns in yer bed or somethin’?” I ask her in a soft tone, and tears form at the corners of her eyes ‘cuz she can’t stop laughin’.

“Russell, stop,” she says, tryin’ to regain her breath. She can’t look at me for a second ‘cuz every time she tries, she loses it again.

Finally, she pulls it together after takin’ several shallow sips of water and wipin’ her eyes. “Maybe they want you to think of havin’ an acrobat in your bed,” she replies when she can talk.

“Naw,” I shake my head. “I can’t get past the scary clown image. It’s givin’ me the creeps.” She rolls her eyes at me. “So, what kind of beds are we gettin’?” I ask her as casually as I can.

“I don’t need much. A single mattress and box springs will do for me. The advertisement said they will give us a free metal frame with the purchase of a mattress and box springs,” she says, lookin’ at me. “But you need at least a double bed, don’t you? I hope they have a longer mattress in stock for you,” she says with concern as she looks at my long frame.

“Don’t worry too much, Red. I’m used to my feet hangin’ off the end of the bed.”

“We can probably get you a queen, and then you can sleep diagonally on it so your feet don’t hang off,” she says, thinkin’ ’bout me.

“That might work,” I reply, thinkin’ we should just get one big king size bed and share it, but I don’t say that out loud ‘cuz she is laughin’ for the first time since we left Crestwood and I’m not ’bout to ruin that. “I’m comin’ in this time. Those mattress salesmen are a little suspect,” I continue, watchin’ the salesmen millin’ ‘round the front of the store, waitin’ for the next customer to come in.

“I think I can handle the mattress salesmen,” Red says, lookin’ at me.

“I know, but if I’m there they won’t try anythin’ ‘cuz I look tougher than y’all, even though y’all can whip us hands down,” I say soothingly.

She doesn’t argue with me, but continues to watch the storefront, pickin’ out subtle hints in the people’s body language. She lets me know which bed each of the people like the most as they walk ‘round the store. She is dead on with everyone. She also points out that the women mostly get their way on the bed selection, when shoppin’ as couples. I laugh and say, “Red, that’s a no-brainer.”

Her eyebrow arches in question. “What do you mean?” she asks, lookin’ at me and smilin’

“Guys don’t really care what the bed looks like. We just care ’bout what’s gonna be
in
the bed,” I explain.

“You mean who is going to be in the bed with you when you’re sleeping?” she asks for clarification as she blushes a little. Lord, she is so naïve. It kills me. I’m sure she knows I am talkin’ ’bout sex, but since she hasn’t had any yet, in this lifetime anyway, she really doesn’t have the frame of reference to talk ’bout it. “Can I ask you something, Russell?” Red inquires. The question is impulsive ’cuz she bites her lip after she asks it.

Intrigued, I say, “Sure.”

She shakes her head. “No, forget it,” she says, and she is quiet.

“Ah, ya can’t do that, Lillian! Y’all will drive me crazy,” I smile, usin’ her fake name to see if it will spark her into askin’ her question.

It works ‘cuz she turns to me tentatively and asks, “Why Candace?”

I think ’bout her question for a while, tryin’ to see if I can explain why I had dated Candace after Red had told me she was datin’ Reed our first semester at Crestwood. I know what she is askin’ me really. Candace is a very pretty girl and she wants to know if that is why I had been with her.

“Well, I was attracted to Candace, I’m not gonna lie. She’s easy to look at in that All-American beauty sort of way,” I say, watchin’ Red for her reaction. She is tryin’ to play it cool so I go on. “I guess there were several reasons I was with her. I could point out all of her physical attributes, but that wasn’t really why I picked her,” I explain as I see Red react a little to what I’m sayin’. She seems to flush a little, like she’s gettin’ irritated with me.

“Why did you pick her, Russell? She is one of the meanest people I have ever met in my entire life,” she says, tryin’ to keep her emotions in line.

“She’s mostly only mean to you, Red, ‘cuz she doesn’t like anyone who is more beautiful than she is,” I reply, and smile when I see her scowl at me. Red didn’t believe me when I said she is more beautiful than Candace, but she is. Hands down. No contest. “Naw, before ya say anythin’ hear me out. I was with Candace ‘cuz I knew that I didn’t love her.”

“What! Why would you be with someone you don’t love?” she asks, like I’m sick or somethin’.

“’Cuz I couldn’t be with the girl I love,” I murmur. When she closes her mouth I add, “And, I knew that Candace didn’t love me either. I knew that she wouldn’t be very hurt when she figured out that I didn’t love her ‘cuz she only really loves herself. I didn’t want to pick someone who would be hurt when they found out I couldn’t care about them like that ‘cuz I’ll always love someone else.”

“What’s wrong with being alone until you find someone else you can love?” she asks me quietly, like there is someone else out there for me.

“There is no one else,” I say flatly.

“How do you know?” she counters, and I can hear the thinness in her voice when she asks her question.

“’Cuz I’ve lived for thousands of years and it has only ever been you, Red. Just you,” I reply darkly.

“Well, of course it’s been just me,” she argues. “Because you’re stupid and pick people like Candace when you’re not with me. If you picked someone nicer and capable of love, you might find out that I’m not the only entity in the universe you can love,” she says all huffy, and I am surprised that she is so pissed off about it.

“Maybe. You’ll have to give me back my heart, and then maybe I can try again,” I say softly.

“How do I do that?” she asks with a sad look.

“I don’t know,” I answer her honestly.

Red is quiet as I sit thinkin’ ’bout what she said while we watch the Mattress Carnival employees walkin’ people through the store. Red makes a few comments ’bout the bald guy bein’ the best salesman to go to ‘cuz he’s the quickest when the decision on a bed is made. He wastes no time gatherin’ the stock from the back and havin’ someone load it in the car for the customers.

“Red. Can I ask ya a question?” I ask, continuin’ to watch the bald man run ‘round the store, gatherin’ up things for the customer. He is quick; I’ll give her that.

“Huh?” she ask absently, but I’m not fooled ‘cuz I see the way she sits up a little at my question.

“What’s yer nightmare ’bout?” I ask, while seein’ immediately that she doesn’t like my question, since she bites her lower lip again.

“Which one?” she counters, not lookin’ at me.

“How ’bout y’all tell me ’bout the one ya had the first night we got here. That one should be extremely significant,” I say, watchin’ the neon sign make her face glow red, and then yellow as it flashes the alternatin’ light on her through the front window.

“I don’t think that one is real. I think that one has to be some kind of nightmare, not a premonition,” she says quickly.

“Why do you say that?” I probe.

“Because of all the weird stuff in it,” she replies in a calm tone. She really wants to believe that, but whether she does or not is another story.

“Weird stuff? Yer gonna have to be more specific ‘cuz everythin’ we talk ’bout is weird,” I point out, askin’ her to elaborate.

“Okay, you want me to clarify? Here it is. I’m being carried through a chamber that is right out of some Arthurian Tale. I’m in a massive hall with several rows of Corinthian columns, you know, the really ornate ones and they are carved out of the same dark gray stone that surrounds the room. The ceiling is cavernous, but the only sources of light are coming from several massive stone fireplaces carved into the walls. The fireplaces are big enough to walk into and not have to duck your head and there is light from the candlelight chandeliers that hang from the ceilings.

She’s not lookin’ at me ‘cuz she seems to be there, in the place she’s describin’ to me. “There is something about the walls of the place. They have a tarnished green color to them that is like limestone, but different… and there is a sweet smell that I don’t recognize,” she adds. I watch her touch the window of the car like it was the wall of the room she is describin’, and then I see her shiver. “Its very beautiful here in a ‘welcome to Merlin’s House’ kind of way. I mean very, very, surreal,” she says, lookin’ ‘round like she’s not lookin’ at the car at all.