Lucky Thirteen (11 page)

“Did she?” Ray said doubtfully, but only for a split second before he hastily added, “Yes, I know she did
. But, well, I think we need to see her together, show her that we found each other. First, I have to find him.”

11

Dream Sequence

D
arknes
s
shrouded the city, and slumber overtook even those who would fight sleep. The need to rest and to dream became paramount.

Raiford Reynolds
took the files he had found regarding his birth and adoption to his home and read every word as he sat on his sofa with Cyclops purring beside him. He had often had strange dreams about someone who looked like him. Now, he understood why. He yawned and put his head back.

“The nightmares, Cyclops.
Some nights I dread falling asleep.” He rubbed the cat’s head. “I frequently keep long hours, which usually gives me a migraine. Now, I’m on meds—Ambien to sleep undisturbed.”

However, on this night he did not take a sleeping pill
. Neither did he hear the folder slip from his lap onto the floor. The dreams that came to him both disturbed and calmed his exhausted mind.

Time rewound
…He was an early teen, plowing furrows; and he smelled the new-turned earth, at first a pleasant aroma. Then, the same scent sickened him as he stood between two graves, freshly dug.

Time went further back
…He was a boy framing a house with a deeply bronzed older man. The man referred to drawings and remarked in heavy Cajun, “These are perfect, Ray. How did you do this so well? You have to do this for a living. I don’t want you to dig in the dirt like me.”

Time fast forwarded
…He was in college. He felt a searing pain in his head from a brutal blow. A disharmony of voices floated around him, and a woman’s voice saying good-bye left him in a heap upon the floor.

Once more
, time flew forward
...As a grown man, he placed a kiss on the forehead of a gray-haired woman in a coffin. He instantly floated into the presence of an auburn-haired angel who slept peacefully above him.

Ray woke himself
when he mumbled, “I’d like to be there.” Sitting up, he said, “That wasn’t
my
life—it was my brother’s.” The weird connection he had felt as a child in his dreams solidified. He released a long puff of air, picked up the cat, and went to bed. “I know that place in my dream, Cyclops. Where is it?” the detective asked his feline friend as he stroked the animal and drifted to sleep again.

♣♣♣

Larkin Sloan watched th
e man who held her captive sleep. Strangely, she felt his presence in her life would keep her safe. She had no fear of the man and lay back easily. She wondered if her captor could be the man of her dreams as she drifted off to sleep.

In spite of being a captive, Larkin slept peacefully in her new surroundings
. For years, she had dreamed about a faceless man, always with dark hair. Lately, she had dreamed of blue eyes. At all times, the presence of this man gave her a feeling of security. She loved this faceless creature, whoever he was.

The
man with dark hair and beautiful blue eyes who slept on the floor left his body and the place where they were. She left her body and followed. She felt the need to keep him from walking into grave danger, a danger she thought she knew.

She
watched the man walk aimlessly around the city. As they turned a corner, she lost sight of him. He vanished. Fear overtook her, and the only recourse she had was to go back to where she had left the body.

When she walked in, the man sat on the bed
. He remarked in a familiar voice, “I’ve been looking for you and him.” He pointed to the body of her captor still asleep on the floor.

“What do you mean?” she asked
. “That’s you.”

The man
on the bed shook his head. “That’s not me. I’m right here. Where is he? I need to find the two of you so I can take care of you.”

She started awake
. Her captor, a captive within himself, slept on the floor. Nonetheless, she knew that for her at this moment in time, she was in the safest place she could be. She reached down and gently stroked the ebony hair of a man who had captured her heart.

♣♣♣

Chris Milovich
slipped under the covers in her hotel room. Usually she tossed and turned quite some time before she fell asleep. This night she drifted into another world immediately.

Her normal dreams of a faceless child that she was always chasing w
ere replaced with another disturbing dream.
She walked into the police station to find her friend and temporary partner in pieces like a jigsaw puzzle on the floor. As hard as she tired, she could not put him together. There was a big piece missing.

Behind her, she heard
, “Ahem.” She turned to see the man whole and complete standing behind her. He said, “I think you’re missing this piece.” He pulled out his own heart and handed it to her.

She placed the
beating heart in the puzzle and it fused into a perfect man in peaceful slumber. Chris turned to the man behind her. “Now, you’re incomplete,” she said, feeling tightness in her own chest.

The man shrugged
. “I’m sure mine is around here somewhere. Will you help me find it?”

Chris nodded
. “Yes, I’d like that.” She took the man’s hand.

Eyes popped open.
“Shit,” Chris said to the darkness in her room. “What was that all about? When I tell Ray about this dream, he’s gonna tell me to get some meds.” She turned over and tried to go back to sleep.

♣♣♣

Ray Gautier slept curled into a ball on the floor of the old monastery
. After resuming his medication, he had no trouble sleeping. He had peaceful dreams of playing with a boy so much like him as he had dreamed his whole life. There was joy in those dreams. The voices ceased to torment him. Tonight something was different.

A
million voices swirled around him as if in a whirlwind of sound before a voice, a very strong voice, called him. “Ray, let me help you.”

Ray found the source of the voice
. The cyclone stopped swirling, and the only voices he heard were his own and the one before him. He stood face-to-face with himself. He questioned, “How can you help me?”

“Trust me.”

“But you’re me.”

“No, I’m not.”

Ray screamed in his sleep and sat up. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder as Larkin asked, “Ray, are you all right?”

He shook his head
. His voice strained, he said, “I really am insane. I really am.”

12

The Voice of Insanity

“Y
o
u
are
not
insane!” Larkin snapped as her patience began to wear thin.

“Yes, I am,” he argued
. “Now I’m dreaming I’m two people.” Ray shivered and pulled the thin blanket more tightly about him.

“Did you take your meds?”

“You know I did. You saw me. Larkin, all the voices didn’t disturb me as much as feeling torn apart.”

“Ray, listen to me
. You have to go for help.”

“I have to call Latrice.”

“Why would you get in touch with that maniac?”

“You’re right
. I can’t call her. She thinks I’m some derelict who sleeps in street gutters.” Ray Gautier looked around him and laughed sardonically. “I almost do. I’ll have to see her face to face.”

“No!”
Larkin shrieked. “She might realize you’re not under her influence anymore.”

“I have to
. If I don’t make contact with her, she might come here to see what’s wrong. I’ll be fine. I look like crap. I smell like crap. It’s a good time to go see her. I’ll go this afternoon.”

She could not convince Ray to stay
. All she could do was pray he would pull off his deception.

♣♣♣

As the public health facility closed, Ray Gautier loitered on the street
, hood shielding his face, but eyes alert. He waited until the tall, muscular woman with short dark hair came out. She saw him and vigorously walked over. “What’s wrong?” she demanded. “What are you doing here?”

“She wants a bath,” Ray babbled
. “She won’t stop bugging me for a bath. She’s giving me such a headache.”

“A bath
?” The woman held her hands in the air and shook her head. “I don’t want her grimy, moron. She has to be spotless, clean,
pure
. You haven’t touched her or anything, have you?”

He knitted his eyebrows together.
“What do you mean?”

“You’re a man, a pitiful excuse, but a man
. You know what I mean.”

“Oh
.” Ray shook his head. “Momma’s voice wouldn’t allow me to do that.”

“Be a good boy
.” A half smile crossed her face. “Listen to your momma.”

“Oh, I do.”

“I hope so. Mommas give good advice. Let me clarify one thing. When’s your birthday?”

“January 13
th
.”

Latrice
shook her head. “Not a Gemini. Mommas usually give good advice, just like me. You didn’t listen to me very well with the Dupree kid. He’s crazier than you. You should’ve picked someone less volatile.”

“Are you still mad at me
?” Ray looked at the ground and shuffled his feet.

“No, you got me what I wanted
. In addition, the little thug is off the streets. How’s Larkin’s cut?”

“Healed, and only a tiny scar
. I snipped the stitches just like you said to. I’m sorry.” He bit his lip like a little boy. “Don’t be mad at me. You’re the only person who cares about me.”

“I’m not mad
. Do you need more money?”

“Yeah
. She really likes Mexican food. Oh, did I tell you she wants a bath?”

“Yes,” she hissed
. She took out her wallet and handed Ray three crisp one hundred dollar bills. “I only have three hundred on me. Go get a big washtub and some bath gel that smells really good. Connect a hose to the faucet in the bathroom. And pick her up something clean, but cheap, to wear. I have a special garment for her day. And take a bath yourself. You stink.” The woman started to turn away.

“When?”

“Huh?” She whipped back toward the hooded vagrant.

“When is her day
? Why is it so special?”

“I already told you why
. She’ll culminate the purification process. She’ll bring forth
he who will stop the chaos
.”

“And the voices?”

“Yes, Ray. I promise your voices will stop.”

“When?”

“Halloween.”

“How
? Will you give me some new medicine?”

“Something even better
. Trust in me, Ray.” For a moment Ray thought he could see a forked tongue and he envisioned Kaa, the snake from
The Jungle Book
.

Latrice’s
voice went on in its hissing fashion. “The voices will stop forever. I promise. I’ll take care of you just as soon as Larkin has fulfilled her purpose.” Latrice, her dark maroon scrubs swishing, stalked away.

The vapors from her voice hung like ice
shards in the fall air. Ray shivered.

He
crumpled the money in his fist as he realized the voice of insanity had just spoken to him. He did not want anything Latrice had touched. As he walked down the street, he handed the cash to a homeless bum who wondered why someone as bad off as he was would give him three hundred dollars.

♣♣♣

Ray bumped and rattled through the door carrying a large washtub.

“What in the world?” Larkin asked.

“A bath for the lady and a few other surprises.”

“Well, the first surprise is you. You look like a million bucks.”

Ray had bathed, shaved, and wore cle
an jeans and a royal blue Polo sport shirt. In clothes that fit properly, it was easy to tell the man was in excellent physical condition from the muscle tone in his arms alone. He obviously worked out. “Yeah?” he asked with a genuine smile and deep dimples. “Thank you. I went by my house. I couldn’t stand the sight or scent of myself for another second.”

“Are you crazy?”

“Why?”

“What if the police had found you?”

“Now, who sounds crazy? What if they had?” He pushed the heavy wooden door shut with his foot. “You’d be free and safe, and I’d be in jail. As a matter of fact, I’ve been thinking about that. We’ll talk after your bath.”

He put the tub by the bathroom door and gathered several packages out of it.

“How did you get that stuff here?” asked Larkin.

“My car
. It’s not spectacular, but I like it. I have a white Nissan Altima.” He gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I know. The voice of insanity is taunting me, but I refuse to give in.”

Her jaw dropped
. “You’re the one who was in my parking place.”

“Oops
. Sorry.”

“I got soaked.”

Ray chuckled as he attached the hose to the faucet and started the water into the tub. “Come on. Time to get soaked again. I don’t know how hot you like it.” He handed Larkin a bag from Bath and Body Works. It contained bath gel, shampoo, and conditioner, all in cucumber-melon scent. “It smelled nice,” he explained.

He handed her a bag from Wal-Mart
. It contained washcloths, towels, a package of disposable razors, shaving cream, deodorant, a brush, two toothbrushes, toothpaste, deodorant soap for him, and undergarments in surprisingly the right size. “I guessed,” he said.

The last bag, from Victoria’s Secret, Ray put on the bed
. “For when you get out.”

Larkin
placed her untethered hand in the warm water. It felt marvelous. She felt Ray’s touch on her other wrist, and her shackle slipped off.

“I’ll wait outside
. Knock when you’re done,” he said to her unspoken question. “I won’t hurt you. I told you that. You remind me so much of Rhonda. She would’ve looked a lot like you if she’d grown up. I loved my little sister very much.” He left Larkin to her bath and brought several more items in from his car, including a heater, more blankets, and more clothes for both him and Larkin.

♣♣♣

Every instinct inside Larkin told her to run as fast as she could the second Ray left the room. With one hand on the doorknob, a still, small voice whispered to her, “No. Stay. You
are
the one who will end this.”

S
tartled, she looked around her. “God, is that you?”