Authors: Vincent Morrone
Grandpa sighed. “I meant there are others today who have gifts. Abilities that defy normal understanding.”
“Really
? Like who? What powers?”
Grandpa shrugged. “I can’t tell you. Those in the family that have chosen to confide in me did so knowing I’d never tell. If they should choose to reveal themselves to you, that would be fine. I won’t betray that confidence. I wouldn’t betray yours either, if you should choose to tell me. I want to help you, but it’s hard to do when I don’t know what I’m supposed to help you with.”
Looking into his eyes, I actually thought about it for a moment, but it was a very short moment.
Grandpa saw my resolve and instead of waiting for me to deny everything, he leaned in and kissed my cheek. “If you ever want to or need to talk, you should know that I’ll listen
, and I’ll understand, and I’ll believe. When you’re ready.”
I smiled to express my gratitude but didn’t elaborate.
“This has been a long, rough day for you,” he said. “Why don’t you go lie down or do whatever it is that seventeen-year-old girls do to relax. Is there anything I can do?”
“I don’t suppose you feel like painting toenails?” I asked.
“That was cruel, Bristol. Funny, but cruel,” he said before retreating into the house.
* * * *
Later that night after dinner was done and cleaned up, I finished as much of my homework as I could, then I sat in the living room and watched some TV. I couldn’t find anything that was remotely interesting, but I was determined to be here when Uncle Mark got home. Zack went to bed at eight, and then Simon followed at nine, each taking their dogs with them. That left just me and Grandpa.
Amazingly
, he didn’t start to talk family history to me again. He just complained about whatever show I had on. Finally, I tossed him the remote, grabbed a book, and started to read.
I thought about calling Maggie again but decided once had been enough. I had called her earlier
, and suffice to say, Maggie was officially on the Bristol and Payne wagon. And with Maggie driving, that wagon was out of control.
I kept hearing her in my head, urging me to make my move before Princess P did. According to Maggie, Pricilla had made it her mission to bed as many McKnights as possible and wanted Payne as
her crown jewel. Payne had barely noticed her. Good! At least he had taste.
God, I hate
d the way I sounded
.
Just as I was getting desperate enough to think about talking to Grandpa, Uncle Mark came home. I didn’t want to just jump on him right away
, so I ran to the kitchen and started to warm up some dinner for him. I knew the first thing Uncle Mark did when he got home was put his gun in a lock box and get out of his uniform. I was just placing the plate on the table when he came in looking for food.
“For me?” he asked. “Thanks
, Bristol. You’re a life saver.”
As he ate, I sat down and tried to be patient.
“I don’t suppose,” he said, “that there’s anything that you want to add about what happened this afternoon.”
“Uh,” I said, “not really. I was going to ask you what happened after I left.”
Uncle Mark sighed. “I took Payne to see his aunt. We told her what we’d found. I said we couldn’t be sure for a week or so, but it was most likely Jared. Payne was real good with her I’ve got to say. Then his grandfather arrived.”
“So how is the old blowhard?” Grandpa yelled from the other room. “Still expecting people to c
urtsy as they pass him?”
“Knock it off, Dad,” Uncle Mark rebuked.
“What’s his name?” I asked. “I mean, all of the McKnights have such unusual names.”
Uncle Mark smiled. “Yeah, they do. The grandfather’s name is Varick. He was polite and professional, but clearly wanted me to leave as soon as possible. I tried to ask Breanne a few questions, but there was nothing new she could add.
I imagine Payne must be home by now. Varick thought he should leave and go home to his father, even though Payne wanted to stay and look after Breanne. Varick insisted he would care for Breanne. I personally think she would have preferred Payne to stay.
“I told Varic
k,” Uncle Mark continued, “maybe he should let Payne spend the night there. Breanne thinks of him like a son. Besides, I’m not crazy about the idea of Payne and his father being alone tonight. I just hope Payne doesn’t do anything…
stupid
.”
“What do you mean?”
Uncle Mark shrugged. “With Payne, it’s hard to know. I’ve worried about him for some time. He was a handful even back before his mother was killed. You know about that?”
I nodded. “I heard. Maggie told me he and his mom were in a car crash. Payne was thrown clear, but she was killed.”
“More or less,” Uncle Mark affirmed. “When we got on the scene we found Payne still trying to save his mother, but she was gone. She had been pinned in the car, and the car had caught fire. Payne watched her die. Man, I felt bad for Payne. We thought he’d be near death as well, but he was fine, at least physically. Ask me, that young man has never stopped blaming himself.”
“For what?” I asked.
“Surviving.”
The word hung in the air while Grandpa came in and rummaged through the fridge.
“You ask me,” Grandpa said as he pulled out a beer, “Payne isn’t the only one that blames him for surviving.” He gave Uncle Mark a knowing look as he limped back to the living room.
“Don’t get me started on
him
,” Uncle Mark said, this time with much more venom.
“Who?” I asked.
“Balthazar.” Uncle Mark looked like he had just swallowed something vile. “Understand me, Bristol, I don’t subscribe to the whole McKnights are the source of all evil like some people might.” He shot a look toward the living room. “But there are some people who I have no stomach for. Balthazar McKnight is one of them.”
“Who is he?”
“Payne’s father,” Uncle Mark answered. “He’s the kind of guy who uses people. He could, I suppose, be charming when he wanted something. I always wondered what Payne’s mother saw in him. I imagine he got her to believe that she could change him. Girls sometimes think they can change a guy. I mean, Eve would tell you she trained me up real good.” Uncle Mark smiled. “But I don’t think I was that horrible to begin with.
“Women can polish a man up. Right woman makes you
want
to be a better man. But that don’t work with someone like Balthazar. He was a pitiful excuse of a human being to begin with. Yeah, the right woman can make you a better man, but you have to start out being a good man. Balthazar never was.”
I wasn’t used to hearing such disgust in Uncle Mark’s voice.
“I’ve always suspected Balthazar might have used his hands on Payne,” Uncle Mark continued. “In fact, I’d bet money on it. I could never get Payne to admit it to me. And Varick won’t hear of it.”
“Can’t you do anything?” I asked.
“What?” Uncle Mark questioned. “I have no proof. I’ve never seen a bruise on Payne. Not one, and I’ve had people look. I’ve looked. It’s just a hunch I have. I can’t do much with that.”
I shuddered at the thought of Payne being hurt by his father, but suddenly many of the flashes that I’
d had of Payne being injured fell into place.
“Bristol,” Uncle Mark said, “I want you to be careful with Payne.”
I had visions of my uncle having the talk with me, about how sometimes boys and girls get
these feelings,
and I so did not want that.
“I know you don’t want to hear this but,” Uncle Mark continued, “Payne has been known to do a few crazy things.”
“Crazy?”
Like hanging out with a girl who talks to ghosts?
“Like what?”
“First off, I want to say that I like Payne. He’s a good kid. He’s done his best to take care of his aunt e
ven before Jared disappeared. Payne’s always been respectful whenever I’ve had to deal with him. Unfortunately, I’ve had more than a few encounters with the boy. He can be very reckless.”
“Reckless? What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well,” Uncle Mark said. “His own safety. Kid ran into a burning building once to save a couple of kids. He ran across a busy highway to rescue a dog once. I admire his bravery, but he was damn lucky that he didn’t get himself killed. Payne never hesitates to jump in to help, but there are things that kid does that just drive me insane.”
“Such as?” I prompted.
“Do you have any idea how many dirt bikes that kid has probably gone through?” Uncle Mark asked. “I’ve found him walking home on more than a dozen occasions, his bike slammed up against a rock bed, or into the riverbed, or off one of the hills down near the lake.
“And that’s not the worst,” Uncle Mark continued. “We had a building knocked down in town once. I caught Payne climbing to the top of the rock pile
, which was over twenty feet high. Don’t ask me what he was doing up there. And before he had a dirt bike, he used to jump everything he could with his skateboard. I caught him once skateboarding on the edge of a six-story rooftop. How this kid has survived, I don’t know.
“I have wondered if that’s the idea. Like he’s pushing every limit because he feels like he shouldn’t be alive after his mother died.”
I sat there, slowly tearing a napkin into little pieces. I had seen many of these things in my dreams. Only in my dreams, Payne had never been as lucky. His stunts usually ended just as he was being hurt badly. I knew they all couldn’t have been true, but clearly he was the close-call king of the world.
I’d seen how Payne blamed himself for what happened to his cousin. I could only imagine how he felt about his mother. One thing was for sure.
The next time I saw Payne, I would have to try and talk some sense into him.
“Bristol,” Uncle Mark said, “I don’t know what your relationship with Payne is
—”
“Uncle Mark,” I interrupted, “Payne and I aren’t dating. I told you, I don’t date. We were talking. That’s it. But he and I dating? I can’t imagine…”
“Why not?” Uncle Mark asked.
“I can’t really imagine going out with anyone. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to go out with me. I can’t…”
“I can,” Uncle Mark insisted. “I think you’re selling yourself short. And I can definitely see Payne asking you out. I saw the way he looked at you.”
I blinked, many, many times.
“The way he what?” I asked. “How did he look at me?”
Uncle Mark laughed. “Never mind. Look, like I said, I like Payne. I’ve seen the way he cares for his aunt
, and how he looked out for Jared. Poor boy has had more than enough tragedy in his life. Maybe if he was with you, you might knock some sense into that thick head of his, but it makes me nervous.”
“Of what?” I asked.
“Are you afraid I’ll suddenly take up dirt biking over cliffs or something? That’s not a problem.”
“Good,” Uncle Mark said. “I’m glad to hear it. I don’t think that he would ever try to get you to do stuff like that. I’ve seen how protective he is of people he cares for. He’s just reckless with his
own
life.”
“You have nothing to worry about,” I insisted. “I don’t see Payne being interested in me
like that, but it’s sweet you think he could be.” I gave my uncle a kiss on his cheek. “It’s late and after the day I’ve had, I’m beat. I’m heading to bed. Goodnight.”
Uncle Mark and Grandpa wished me goodnight as I headed upstairs. I
was
exhausted. I had a feeling tomorrow would be a long day. I never even changed into PJs and just collapsed into bed. It didn’t take me long to fall asleep. My last thoughts were of Payne and what would happen the next time I saw him.
* * * *
I approached the house as fog billowed around me. I felt the wet grass underneath my bare feet, the moist blades between my toes.
The house
looked expensive but run down, with the exception of the front garden. The truck also looked pricey but dinged up and parked crooked.
But it
was the shouting that grabbed my attention. Voices filled with venom sliced through the air. Whatever was going on, it was something I needed to see. So I approached the front stoop, knowing even if whoever was in the house should storm out they would never see me. After all, I wasn’t really there.
I made my way to the front door and heard a crash.
The voices stopped a moment before picking up again, this time angrier than before.
“You little punk!” one voice yelled in a slurred, deep tone. “You think I don’t know what you’re thinkin’? I know you think I had somethin’ to do with that stupid kid getting himself dead
.”
I quickly made my way to the window. I could see the man yelling. H
is messy dark hair looked like it hadn’t seen a comb since the turn of the century. His clothes were disheveled and barely hid his beer gut. His eyes were dark and bloodshot. If not for all of that, he might be considered attractive, but he didn’t look very appealing as he rubbed his hand against his face while he still held a beer bottle in the other.