Crossroads (18 page)

Inside the store Kira peered curiously at the intricate, white-metal beamwork and bright flourescent lighting that seemed to create its own inner sky. She was even more amazed by the almost infinite selection of products available for purchase. It wasn’t that she’d never been inside a store. Just not often. Stores were filled with towners, people who lived not on the periphery, but in what Kira’s mother had called the
mainstream
, a place of rules and regulations, a place where Kira and then Jen didn’t fit and had never had any interest in fitting. Unlike most kids Kira had never lusted after
things.
The carnival had always been her playground. Her first toys were stuffed animals from the shooting gallery, and what other kids had their own go-cart track to play in? But she could certainly see how towners might be entranced by such stores at this one.

She glanced at Jen and wondered if bringing her here was going to be a problem. But if anyone other than Sheila could see her she’d just look like any other shopper-albeit a poor and underdressed, and possibly
gauzy
one-and the worst that might happen would be curious glances or people looking at them down the lengths of their noses. The best answer for that was to ignore it. Never give them the apologetic look that would say
we know we’re not supposed to be here,
because that set off alert signals in the
mainstream
people’s heads.

Of course Sheila  was good cover. She wasn’t exactly a regular person, but she could almost pass for one. Sheila was one of those people her mother would have called on the cusp
.
She had an openness that regular people never had, and that openness allowed her to sense a little bit of the other side where Kira and Jen spent most of their lives, but it also placed her in grave danger now, because Kira knew Sheila  wasn’t ready to believe everything she saw or felt the way they did.

They followed Sheila down a wide aisle that was divided into two narrower lanes by boxes of computers, and televisions, and racks of dvds, then turned right, weaving between sweaters and skirts to a tall mass of shelves containing blue jeans of all sizes. Sheila  studied Kira.

"I don’t suppose you want a dress."

Kira made a face.

Sheila  nodded, kneeling to study Kira’s build before reaching behind her onto one of the shelves and holding a set of jeans against Kira’s own raggedy pants.

"Try these on," said Sheila , nodding toward a counter where a gray-haired woman was waiting on a lady almost as large as Fat Alice.

Kira didn’t like the idea of trying to hide her nakedness behind that narrow counter, but Sheila  just knelt there, waiting, so she took the jeans and went where she was told. Behind the counter were three doors shielded by curtains, and suddenly Kira understood. But she stood frozen staring at the closed draperies, the sudden sense of wrongness, of danger, so overwhelming she could barely breathe.

"They’re all empty, honey," said the old woman.

"Do any of them have mirrors inside?" whispered Kira.

"Yes," said the clerk, turning back to her customer. "All of them."

Suddenly Jen was at Kira’s side. When Kira glanced up into her good eye, she saw danger written there.

"Go on in," said Sheila , slipping behind her to nudge Kira forward.

Sheila had no way of understanding the huge mistake she had just made, but Kira knew instantly what was going to happen. Jen could sense the mirrors inside the changing rooms, and she had also sensed the
Empty-eye-man’s
presence close by. She snatched the jeans out of Kira’s hands and dragged her back away across the aisle, glancing from Sheila  to the tiny dressing room where the curtain now hung open.

"I can’t go in there," said Kira, trying to get Jen to release her hand.

"It’s all right," said Sheila . "I’ll buy them, and you can try them on at home in the bedroom. You don’t have to go in there if you don’t want to."

But Kira noticed that the woman behind the counter never looked at Jen. She was watching Sheila . She hadn’t
seen
Jen. She had just sensed something out of the ordinary. This was gonna be bad.

"I’m not going to make you," insisted Sheila , looking to Kira for assistance. "But why is she so afraid of you going into the changing room?"

Kira shook her head, wishing Sheila  wouldn’t keep referring to Jen. "Usually she calms down."

"Usually?"

"Almost always," Kira corrected herself.

Sheila  frowned. "What’s the matter with her?"

Kira shrugged. There was no use trying to explain to Sheila . If she didn’t believe about the Grigs or the
Empty-eyed-man
this was no time or place to try telling her about mirrors.

The fat woman was giving both of them the eye, the old lady looked like she was an inch away from shouting for security, and Kira wondered what would happen then. As long as Jen didn’t get really wild Sheila could probably talk them out of any predicament they might be in, but you just never knew with Jen. Luckily, though, she seemed to be calming down.

"Not going in there," Jen insisted. But she was quieter this time, the gleam in her eye tuning down a shade.

"No," said Sheila . "No one has to."

"Not."

"She’s all right now," said Sheila , trying to reassure the old lady behind the counter as the fat lady made a face and wandered off carrying her purchase with her.

"Who, dear?" said the woman behind the counter, giving her a frightened look.

Sheila frowned as Kira tried to tug her away from the counter. Sheila leaned close to her face.

"She can’t see Jen," whispered Kira.

"What?" said Sheila , looking back at the old woman who was speaking quietly into a phone while never letting them out of her sight.

Kira shook her head. "Most people can’t."

"That’s silly," said Sheila , glancing from the counter lady to Jen and back. But Kira could tell that Sheila  wasn’t so sure. The very idea of someone not being able to see Jen seemed to have snapped a switch inside Sheila, and Kira was worried that she might be getting angry, only she didn’t really understand why.

Sheila swallowed a large lump in her throat. "Is Jen dead?" she asked, quietly.

Kira frowned. What kind of question was that? She shook her head.

"Then why can’t people see her?"

"She’s a pooka," said Kira. "A lot of people just can’t see them."

"A pooka," said Sheila, shaking her head.

"Yes."

Instead of walking on, Sheila  offered her hand to Jen, and Jen took it. Sheila led her up to the counter as Kira held her breath.

"Is there some place other than the small changing rooms my friend can try on some jeans?" asked Sheila, nodding toward Jen.

"The little girl?" asked the counter lady, nervously.

Sheila shook her head, releasing Jen’s hand and pointing at her.

"
This
friend."

A trickle of sweat broke out on the lady’s forehead. Kira felt matching moisture between her shoulder blades.

"There’s no one there," said the old lady in a shaky voice.

"Don’t be ridiculous," said Sheila, irritably. "Why are you saying that? I’m not crazy."

The old lady kept staring over Sheila’s shoulder or through Jen rather than looking Sheila in the eyes. Kira saw the hefty security guard before Sheila did, and the look of relief on the old woman’s face was clear.

"Is there a problem, Ma’am?" the guard asked Sheila.

Sheila shook her head. "No problem," she said, reading the old woman’s name tag. "Betsy, here, is playing games."

"What kind of games?" asked the guard.

Sheila smirked. "She claims she can’t see my friend, here."

The guard frowned. "What friend is that, Ma’am?"

Sheila frowned at him. "
Her."

She held out a hand to Jen who stood like a mannequin, staring into space.

"Sheila," whispered Kira, plaintively.

But everyone ignored her.

"Are you all right, Ma’am?" asked the security guard.

"What do you mean
am I all right?"
shouted Sheila. "What kind of joke is this?"

"Please don’t get excited," said the guard, nodding toward the counter woman who picked up the phone again.

Kira noticed that the man had his hand on an ominous looking little black box on his belt.

"Sheila," she said, louder this time, grabbing Sheila’s hand.

The last thing she or Jen needed was for Sheila  to cause a commotion, for the cops to show up and start asking for questions, for ID.

"She gets confused sometimes," Kira told the guard. "She’ll be okay."

"Seeing things?" muttered the guard.

"Yes," said Kira.

"What?" blurted Sheila. "How dare you?"

Kira could see that she had crossed some line that she shouldn’t have, but she was afraid, confused.

"Please," she whispered, almost in tears. "Let’s just go, Sheila ."

Sheila glared at her for a moment, but finally her look softened, and she nodded, shouldering the big guard out of her way but waiting for Jen to catch up. Although Kira would just as soon have left the jeans behind Sheila insisted they stand in line and pay for them but stop long enough in the lady’s and children’s sections to find new underwear for both Kira and Jen. At least Sheila didn’t ask the checkout clerk whether she could see Jen. Kira thanked her lucky stars for that. The three of them made it without further ado to Sheila’s car, but Kira noticed the guard standing in front of the glass doors, staring at them as they drove away.

Chapter 25

"What just happened in there?" asked Sheila , grimacing as she wove through traffic.

"I told you, a lot of people can’t see Jen," said Kira, simply.

"That’s ridiculous. She’s as real as you or me."

But Kira could tell by the way Sheila kept throwing glances back at Jen that she wasn’t so sure anymore.

"No, she isn’t." said Kira. "I told you. She’s a pooka."

"A what?"

"She was sent to me to protect me."

"Sent to you by who?"

Kira shrugged. "I don’t know."

"That’s crazy."

But Kira could see that Sheila  was shaken to the core.

"Tell me now, and tell me straight," said Sheila , forcefully, "where did you two come from."

"Florida."

"You two made it up here all by yourselves? What were you doing in Florida besides working in a carnival? I thought kids were supposed to run away to join carnivals, not the other way around."

Sheila  was going to keep digging, now. The incident inside the store had her as fired up as a bad loser at the Three Card Monte table. She and Jen had to make their break now without delay before things could get any worse. As soon as Sheila gave them half a chance they had to be gone, but for the moment there didn’t seem like much purpose in lying to her anymore.

"It wasn’t like that."

"What are you really running away from, your parents?" asked Sheila, weaving through more cars. Ahead a long line of vehicles slowed at an exit ramp. Sheila  frowned as she wove through them to open road.

"Grigs," said Kira, in frustration, "and the
Empty-eyed-man.
My parents are both dead.
"

Sheila gave her a hard look, and Kira sagged in her seat. Finally she just broke down and told Sheila the whole story. Everything. From their escape, to Clancy, to Bullet, to the girl in the parking lot, and by the end of her story she was wiping tears from her eyes.

Sheila lifted one hand off the wheel in an apologetic gesture.

"You don’t believe me," said Kira, "do you?"

Sheila waved the hand again. "I believe you really believe everything you say."

"The people in the store-"

Sheila ’s frown darkened. "I don’t know yet what happened in there, but it has to have a reasonable explanation."

Kira shook her head. "Sometimes there aren’t any explanations."

"There are!" said Sheila, slapping the wheel hard.

Kira jolted back in her seat, frightened for the first time of Sheila .

Sheila glanced at her, and her expression thawed.

"I’m sorry," she said, quietly, "but I believe in what I can see. Sometimes you have to
make
things real."     

"How do you do that?" asked Kira, wishing it were so.

"By believing real goddamned hard," muttered Sheila, almost as though she were talking to herself. "By making things that aren’t real go away."

"There are things you don’t want to see, maybe," whispered Kira, "but that doesn’t make them not real, and I don’t know how to make them go away. I wish I did."

Sheila’s frown spread when she pulled into the driveway. For just an instant Kira thought she saw a hazy image of what might have been an old woman wearing a bright red shawl sitting on the stoop. Then the sun gobbled up the mirage, but she noticed that Sheila was staring at the same spot.

"Did you see that lady?" asked Kira.

Sheila hit the brakes hard, throwing Kira against her shoulder belt. She hung there frightened, unwilling to break the moment with speech, as the car jolted to a stop in the drive. Finally Sheila  turned the key and the motor died.

"See what?" she whispered.

Kira frowned. "It looked like an old lady."

Sheila  shook her head. "Must have been a trick of the light."

Having returned home in silence Sheila led the way reluctantly up her walk, wondering why she was seeing her mother here, out in the daylight, out of the house period. The fact that Kira seemed to have seen her as well, to have seen something at least, staggered Sheila, confronting her at last with something approaching the reality she wanted so desperately to deny. Unless Kira was hallucinating, too.

"Hello," called Marguerite, shielding her eyes from the sun. "Oh, I didn’t realize you had company. I’ll keep quiet."

"That would be a first," muttered Sheila.

"What?" said Kira.

"Nothing," said Sheila, waving Kira and Jen through the trailer door. She waited until her mother was inside before closing it.