Lunatic Revenge (11 page)
Authors: Sharon Sala
Tara backed off. She was done here.
Nate put a hand on her arm. “Can I please take you home now?”
Tara shook her head and walked away, already locked onto a faint cry for help that only she could hear.
Hours had passed since
Tara had found Gracie Littlehorse. The search crew her uncle was with caught up with her before noon and was now following her as she marked locations where bodies would be found and radioing in for help when more than manpower was needed to get to trapped victims. No one questioned the reason they were following the directions of a kid any longer. She’d made a believer out of all of them after the third hit.
They had just pulled a teenager and his little sister from a closet where they’d been trapped when Nate turned to look for Tara and saw her sitting on the curb.
“Tara?”
She didn’t answer him, and when he touched her shoulder, she shuddered and moaned.
“That does it,” he muttered. “You’re going home. I gotta find your uncle.”
Tara didn’t hear him. She was tired—so tired, and the voices were all too loud for her to block any longer.
A passing police car came to an abrupt stop beside her and Detective Allen jumped out.
“Hey kid, are you alright?” he asked, looking around for her uncle when she didn’t answer. When he saw them coming, he waited.
“Is she hurt? Do I need to call an ambulance? What happened here?” he asked.
“She’s been helping locate victims for the past seven hours and she’s hit a wall. We need to get her out of here now,” Nate said.
“I’ll take her home,” Allen said.
“Can you drop me off at the City Barn on your way?” Pat asked. “That’s where my car is parked.”
“Hop in,” Allen said.
But Tara wasn’t hopping. In fact, she was past walking. When Pat started to help her up, her legs went out from under her. It was Nate who carried her to the police car, and it was Nate who quietly watched them drive away.
Detective Allen pulled up in Tara’s drive.
“We’re here, kid. Just hang on. Your uncle is right behind us.”
Tara blinked. She was home. She stared at Detective Allen without a single memory of how she’d come to be in this car, which was weird. The last thing she remembered was the rescue team finding that teenager and his little sister in a closet, hearing the boy asking if they’d found his mom and dad, and knowing their parents were alive and already in the hospital. She had tried to find the words to say it, but the ability to communicate with the living was momentarily gone.
Allen repeated himself. “Your uncle is on the way.”
That’s when she realized she needed to get out of the car.
“I have a key,” she mumbled, opened the door and was out and stumbling up on the porch before he could help.
“Dang hard-headed kid,” Allen muttered. After his last visit here when her ghost had gotten all mad at him and Rutherford, he was afraid to go into the house with her. But his conscience wouldn’t let him drive off, so he waited until Pat Carmichael got home before he left.
Inside, Tara was bent on only one thing. She stripped off her filthy clothes and then stood naked in her room, shaking with exhaustion as she dug through her jewelry box for her necklace with the St. Benedict’s medal. Her fingers were trembling as she put it on, and then stumbled across the hall into the bathroom. When she realized the power was back on, she was just grateful the water would be warm.
She sat down on the side of the old claw-footed tub and began running a bath then crawled into the depths, clutching the medal. The voices were growing dimmer as she leaned back and closed her eyes.
Suddenly she heard footsteps running down the hall and then Uncle Pat calling her name. “Tara! Tara! Where are you?”
“I’m in the tub, Uncle Pat.”
“Are you okay?”
Tara clutched the medal tighter. “I will be.”
“I’m going to make us some soup. You need to eat something.”
The thought of food made her nauseous, but she knew he was right.
“I’ll eat later, okay?”
“Yeah, I guess. But you call me if you need anything. You hear?”
“Yes.”
“I’m gonna go make that soup now.”
The sound of his footsteps faded as he walked away.
The water was only inches from the rim of the tub when Tara finally turned it off, then she leaned back and closed her eyes, again willing herself to a calm place.
All of a sudden, the box of bubble bath salts elevated then tilted. Tara opened her eyes just as a liberal dose of the little pink beads poured into the water.
We came as quick as we could. I always did love a good bubble bath.
Henry popped up at the foot of the tub, waved and then turned his back and sat down on the toilet facing the wall to give her privacy.
Tara rolled her eyes. One ghost on her toilet and the other adding bubbles to her bath—yes, her life was crazy. No wonder the kids called her
lunatic
.
“What happened to you guys?” Tara asked, and realized her voice was shaking.
We tried to get here, but your storm created a vortex. Henry wound up in Fourteenth Century Persia and caused a ruckus in a harem. I was aiming for here and landed in the Middle Ages. Such a disaster, and I have quite an aversion to that period in time. I was burned at the stake then for being a witch. I am ashamed to admit I still hold a grudge.
Tara watched as the water began to churn. Millicent was making bubbles in her bath like she used to when Tara was little. She glanced at Henry, who was blowing her kisses over his shoulder. And just like that, her life centered.
“I missed you both. It was awful here.”
We know. We saw. You were very brave to help as you did.
“I didn’t feel brave. In fact, I don’t feel much of anything right now except numb.”
That will pass. You’ll know when it’s all better.
“How will I know?” Tara asked.
Why, you’ll cry of course. That’s what we women do best.
“Flynn is at his father’s funeral. Have you seen Michael O’Mara? On the other side, I mean?”
I don’t think he’s crossed.
Tara gasped, and sat up in the tub, sloshing some of the water and bubbles into the floor. “Why not?”
Something has been left undone.
“Oh lord. Is there a way I can talk to him? It’s about that missing money.”
I don’t know. It may not be your problem to solve.
“But how can Flynn—”
Like I said, it may not be your problem to solve.
“Even though I’m in the middle of the problem?”
I don’t know. I don’t like how this feels. You need to keep your distance.
Tara flipped bubbles at the sound of her voice. “Flynn’s my boyfriend. I’m not keeping my distance from him.”
Your uncle is coming. Later, lizard.
Tara rolled her eyes. “It’s not, later lizard. It’s later gator.”
They’re both reptiles. I fail to see the difference.
“You rock, Millicent. And you do, too, Henry.”
Henry bounced up against the ceiling and then disappeared in increments, beginning head first. Millicent left, too, but with what sounded like a fart, and not her usual “pop,” which meant they were both still suffering after-effects of the atmospheric storm.
Tara woke the next morning
to sunshine coming through her bedroom window and no memory of eating her supper or going to bed. She rolled over, glanced at the clock and then gasped. It was after 9:00 a.m. She was so seriously late for school.
Then she noticed her bedroom door was open and that there was a note taped to the door.
No school for the rest of the week. Stay away from the storm site. You did enough yesterday. It’s not your job to rescue the world.
She sighed with relief, thankful she wasn’t going to be late and facing Mrs. Crabtree again. Twice in one week would be a disaster. And Uncle Pat didn’t need to tell her she needed to stay away from the area where all the houses had been hit. Yesterday had been the worst.
She went to the bathroom to wash her face and brush her hair then changed into a warm pair of sweats and some fuzzy socks. She turned up the thermostat as she went to the kitchen and found another note from Uncle Pat.
Had to throw out some of the food. Car keys and money are on the coffee table in the living room. I caught a ride to work so you can use the car to get groceries. Be very careful driving. Still lots of debris around. I was very proud of you yesterday.
Love, Uncle Pat
Tara smiled and then saw a pink puff of smoke.
Henry wants to go to the Sonic Drive-in for a breakfast burrito.
Millicent was already trying to arrange Tara’s day.
“Seriously Millicent, I don’t even see Henry,” Tara muttered. “You just want to go look at that cute guy who works carhop on the morning shift.”
Then she turned around and saw Henry sitting on top of the refrigerator.
He waved, and then rubbed his tummy to tell her she needed to eat.
“You seriously want to go to the Sonic, Henry?”
He shook his head and pointed at her.
See, he wants to eat.
“He wants me to eat. He said nothing about himself,” Tara said.
I remember food. I am certain I would have liked that breakfast burrito, had I ever had the opportunity to taste one.
“I need to make a grocery list and get my shoes.”
We have eternity. Take your time.
“Right,” Tara said, and then laughed.
It felt good to laugh. There had been moments yesterday when she wasn’t sure that would ever happen again.
A short while later, she was on her way to grocery shop by way of the Sonic. Her phone rang just as she finished giving her order. She answered without looking at Caller ID, thinking it would be Uncle Pat.
“Yes, I’m up and on my way to get groceries.”
Nikki giggled. “It’s me.”
“Oh. Hi. I thought you were Uncle Pat.”
“I figured. Hey
. . .
we saw you on TV this morning.”
The hair rose on the back of Tara’s neck. “You what?”
“We saw you
. . .
up in that tree with that baby in your arms. OMG, Tara, that was amazing. You had us all bawling our eyes out here. You are a serious hero.”
“That was on TV?”
“Yes, and a half-dozen other shots of you with search crews and everything. Are you okay? You looked exhausted.”
Tara’s mind was racing. “What did they say about me?”
“That you knew how to find people because you were psychic.”