A Deep and Dark December(2)

The file still lay open on her desk. The office seemed to go on about its business around her, oblivious to what she’d just gone through. She pulled her phone out to call her aunt to tell her what had happened and saw the time. A quarter to four. She had fifteen minutes to get to Greg’s house. Greg. She should call for someone to save him. She punched in 9-1 then hesitated, her thumb hovering over the second one. What would she say? Who would believe her if she told them what she’d seen in her vision?

She wasn’t supposed to use her ability to change the future. That lesson had been drummed into her at an early age, from the first flickers of her ability asserting itself. If she changed one thing, it could potentially change a thousand little things. A man was dead. Or would be dead. Certainly there were exceptions. But wouldn’t saving him be the absolute worst-case scenario? Could she live with herself if she did nothing? What choice was there?

She put on her coat and grabbed her purse and the Lasiter file. There was something wrong with her ability for sure. It was out of whack, totally out of her control. Maybe it wasn’t true. Maybe her vision was wrong. Please let it be wrong.

She pushed through the door of the building where Kavender Investments had offices and onto Main Street. The people of San Rey went about their day. She envied them. She’d never wanted her ability, never wanted to be marked as different. She’d only ever wanted to fit in. Born into a family that didn’t hide who they were, Erin felt like an outcast there too, keeping her ability a secret and never using it. She passed through town, attracting her usual amount of odd stares and whispers. She was used to it, but today she challenged their stares, glaring back when she would’ve glanced away.

Greg couldn’t be dead.

She quickened her pace, keeping an eye on the sky, which seemed to increase its threat of rain with every step she took. It was the kind of sky her superstitious Aunt Cerie called volcanic, a portent of violence. Erin didn’t subscribe to her aunt’s superstitions, but she certainly wished she hadn’t left her umbrella in her car, and her car with her aunt. That’s what Erin got for loaning it to Cerie and for wearing suede heels on a day with a forty percent chance of rain.

Couldn’t she catch a break just once?

She gripped the leather handle of her bag tighter as she broke into a jog, hoping to get to the house before the sky opened up. Not that she was in any hurry to get there. She passed homes, some vacant, some close enough that they’d taken on the same hollowed out look. The economic downturn had hit San Rey especially hard.

She opened the front gate of Greg Lasiter’s house, releasing the leaves stuck to it, and slowly made her way up the front walk. At the door, she hesitated and prepared herself for the reality of the images that had assailed her when she’d touched the property file. A simple Cash for Keys, Ramie had said.

But nothing was ever simple in Erin’s world.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked. If her vision were true, no one would answer. Please let Greg answer. Brushing the shards of flaked gate paint from her fingers, she was tempted to just pull out her cell phone and place the call she’d started at the office. But that’s not how it worked. If her vision was real, the scene had to play out exactly as she’d seen it.

Clutching her bag tighter under her arm, she knocked again. “Hello? Mr. Lasiter? It’s Erin from Kavender Investments.”

She felt stupid calling him Mr. Lasiter instead of Greg. He was only a year older than she was. She’d had a stupid unrequited crush on him her freshman year of high school. And now she was standing on his dilapidated porch, supposedly waiting for him to open the door so she could take the keys to his home. The home he’d grown up in. She shouldn’t feel guilty about that and yet she did.

“Mr. Lasiter?” She rapped on the door again. “Hello?”

Inside, the house was silent. Outside, the only sound was the whoosh of wind, lifting the curling ends of her brown hair, bringing with it the briny tinge of the ocean and a chill that bit right through her wool coat. Just like her vision. If Erin was smart she’d follow her instincts and run back the way she’d come. But she had her father’s practicality and a bank balance that didn’t allow for fear.

She had to see this through.

Still no answer. She’d hoped so hard that what she’d seen would be as wrong as the way it had come to her. She closed her eyes and silently chanted the words of protection she’d been taught as a child, mentally drawing a shield around herself. Focusing her energy, she took three deep breaths, letting each of them out slowly, preparing herself for the possible reality of what she’d only seen in her mind.

She opened her eyes and turned the knob. Locked. She hadn’t expected that. Her visions never wavered. For a moment, she didn’t know what to do. The wrongness poked at her.

Careful what you wish for.

Maybe there was a key. She searched the usual places—under the doormat, above the door, the light fixture, a dead potted plant—there.

Dusting the dirt from the key, she revealed a floral pattern. It was one of those novelty keys Fine’s Hardware had started carrying some time back. Erin had one herself. She dug her key ring from her pocket and compared the near identical house keys. The irony wasn’t lost on her. If it wasn’t for her job with Kavender Investments, Austin or Ramie himself might have knocked on her door with a check to exchange for the key to her house.