July (The Year of The Change Book 1) (31 page)

Hernandez’ cold eyes didn't move, didn't even blink for a very long moment, “Could someone else have drawn the pictures?”

I thought for a couple of seconds, “No … Tim, my little brother, watched me draw the first one. It’s my style and my signature’s at the bottom. I just don’t remember drawing it … or the others, either.” I cleared my throat. “Actually, the good ones I don’t remember drawing. It’s like, I’m trying to draw something, but when I finish the picture, I’ve drawn something totally different.”

When he looked down at the drawings my eyes were released and I tipped forward a few inches as though a wall I’d been propped against fell away. I’d leaned so far over his desk my shoulders stopped my forward momentum. There were a couple of pencils on the edge and I fumbled with them. He had to be thinking I was nuts.

Hernandez handed back my pad. “Draw me something.”

I sat there wide eyed not knowing what in the world to draw.

He looked around until his eyes landed on a glass dish with a lid and took on a mischievous glint. “Why don’t you draw my candy jar?”

“It doesn’t work that way. I try and try to draw something that I want to draw and it comes out crummy. Pictures I don’t even think about come out great.”

He just looked at me, still, with no emotion.

There’d be no getting out of this so I’d have to do something. “I’ll try.” Opening to a blank sheet I stared at the candy dish.
How do I make my talent work?
I swallowed hard. There was some relief at not having to choose my own subject. Too bad my heart wouldn’t settle down. I was afraid I might dry heave again.

As soon as the pencil touched the paper my hand began to draw. First it drew the blue and white swirled glass jar. Before I could stop my hand, it continued and sketched Hernandez sitting in his chair behind the candy dish, his head down, writing in a folder with his monitor off to the side. Next, came a male hand with a plain wedding band. It reached into the midst of the candy, a tattoo of a cross at the wrist. Embarrassment blossomed at what developed. Nonetheless, I handed the pad back to Hernandez once my hand stopped.

He smiled as he stood and walked to the door. “Hey, Olsen, come in here a minute.”

A tall, graying man with brown eyes entered, and barely glanced at Sue before he turned to Hernandez expectantly.

“This is Detective Olsen. Olsen, this is Sylvia and her mother.”

Sue bristled. She didn’t like it when people mistook me as her daughter.

Hernandez shuffled to the page with the girl’s crime scene and handed it to Olsen. The older detective took the pad and scrutinized my drawing. I wasn’t sure what I was more nervous about, Olsen thinking I was involved or his opinion of the art work. Without thinking, I stood up and leaned toward the men so I could see which picture they were looking at. Unlike a cat, I don’t have nine lives.

As he turned pages back and forth I noticed Olsen wore a wedding band just like the one I’d just drawn. He also had a small tattoo on his wrist. My eyes shot to Hernandez who was staring at me. My jaw dropped and I put my hand over my open mouth. I’d just drawn Olsen whom I’d never seen before. My heart sped faster.

Olsen shrugged. “It’s a really good copy of the newspaper photo. So, what?”

Hernandez gave me a slight smile as he turned back and pointed out the body in my drawing. “Sylvia, here, is the one who drew it and she drew it yesterday. What do you think, Olsen?”

Olsen turned the full force of his grizzled stare on me for the first time. It was obvious, he was convinced I was in on the crime, although he didn’t come right out and say so. I could just see myself dressed in orange – I look terrible in orange – shuffling around a prison exercise yard, my face gaunt and haggard.

“You drew this yesterday?”

“Yes, sir.” I slinked back to my chair and sat, trying to look as small as I could.

“When, yesterday?” He turned his solid body square to me. I had his full, unwanted attention as he grew to the size of a mountain.

I had to blink a few times. When he was back to a reasonably huge size I answered with a squeak.

“Uh … let’s see … it would have been after lunch, but before snack.” Okay, I admit it’s really weird how I’d begun to spot time by which meal it was close to. It didn’t help that I was hungry since I hadn’t any breakfast. One measly spoonful didn’t count.

Hernandez handed the artist pad to me. For the next half hour Olsen grilled me with questions. Unfortunately, I had no answers.

The doodling started immediately while they asked how I knew what to draw. My mind was on the questions, not the sheet of paper in my lap. One picture after another blossomed as I tried to answer the questions thrown at me.

The first drawing was of a detached garage. In itself, it was just an ordinary, rundown building with peeling paint. The bay door was open with dozens of bicycles stored inside. A balding man stretched to reach the handle on the tilted door. The number 1542 showed on the mailbox, to the side.

The second picture was of a house with two men and a woman sitting on the front porch smoking. Through the torn, open curtains of the window there was drug paraphernalia on a large wooden table. A toddler with her thumb in her mouth reached for one of the plastic bags that sat full on the edge of the filthy surface.

When a sergeant came in to give Hernandez some papers to sign, a tree beside a stream developed on a hastily turned page. There was an unusual teddy bear, and a rattle with a family crest etched into the handle, lying on the ground at the base of a tree. The grass had been trampled. In the distance was a KEEP OUT sign with an odd logo.

The sergeant stopped to watch me draw while he waited. As the picture grew in detail, he let out a low gasp and his brows shot to his hairline. He turned his stunned eyes on Hernandez and pointed, trying to get words out.

Finally, he said, “The teddy bear looks like the Carlson baby’s. What’s she drawing?”

Hernandez stood, taking the pad from my hands. “Do you know where this is?” His stern voice made me cower.

I shook my head looking from one man to the other. I didn’t know any of the places that I’d drawn. This was definitely more fat hitting the fan.

What happened next, I didn’t expect.

The sergeant lunged, grabbed my coat and shook me violently. “What did you do with the kid? Tell me now or I’ll beat it out of you!!”

There was no doubt in my mind the sergeant would’ve done just that if Hernandez and Olsen hadn’t pulled him off, forcefully removing him from the office.

I couldn’t move, except for my trembling. I wanted to cry. The tears wouldn’t come. More pictures came, though, mostly of the sergeant doing things. In one picture, he was arresting a young man, in another he’s dressed in an adult scouter uniform. By the time Hernandez came back in, I had quite a few pictures of the agitated man. I couldn’t stop. With my pulse thundering in my ears, I drew drunks in a jail cell, one man leaning over a pile of vomit while the others cringed away. The air became too thick and I labored to drag enough in.

When Hernandez put his hand on my arm, I drew a beautiful Hispanic woman with a baby in her arms. My hand had a life of its own and couldn‘t be stopped.

Hernandez jerked away as though he’d been shocked. “What are you doing?” he asked in a whisper, his eyes locked on the picture.

I looked at him, begging, “Please, get me out of here. I can’t take much more of this.”

My stomach and my dizzy head hurt. I still couldn’t get enough air. I watched my pale hand as Hernandez pulled me out of my seat. He helped me walk out the back way to the alley. Once outside, I gave him the pad and sat on an old crate he’d turned over for me.

“Put your head between your legs.”

I did as he said and breathed deep the foul, crisp air of the alley. I felt better.

A few feet away Hernandez paced as he looked at my drawings. Every so often he would look at me. I wasn’t sure if he was checking to see if I was alright or whether he was trying to figure me out. “Perhaps emotions trigger these drawings?” The crease on his forehead deepened as he asked the question, not necessarily of me. He pondered and paced for a few more minutes.

I was glad to just be out of there. The emotions that pounded through me were like nothing I’d ever experienced before. Nor did I care to experience them again.

A cockroach crawled across my shoe. Unable to move enough to avoid the annoying creature, I merely watched. I hated the drawings that came out of me. There was no way around it. And there would be no waiting for tonight, this time. I would
have
to talk to Gram,
now
. She would know what was going on and would help me make it right. Perhaps she knew how to turn it off. If this was one of the so-called gifts, I didn’t want it.

Hernandez stopped in front of me, the crease still dominant on his brow. My head was better and I was able to look up at him. Taking a pen from his pocket, he wrote my name on the cover of the artist pad. “What’s your phone number?” I told him and he wrote it below where he’d written my name. “I’ll be keeping this while we investigate whether you had any involvement in this murder. Don’t leave town and don’t talk about this with anyone.
Do You Understand?”
He emphasized the last part with a raised eyebrow.

I nodded my head and croaked out a feeble, “yes.”

He didn’t need to worry. I didn’t want to talk to anyone about these awful drawings, except Gram and where would I go?

He turned his head to the right. “You can go home, but I’ll be in touch with you soon.”

A small, weak voice answered. “Okay.”

For the first time I noticed Sue, who must’ve followed us out. She hadn’t made a sound as she stood against the building looking as pale as I felt. Her eyes where wide and looked as though she might go into shock. It didn’t bother me that she had to go through this because she was the one who dragged me into it. That was the beginning of Sue avoiding me even more than usual
.

The sound the bird made earlier still resonated in my brain and I listened for it. I never heard the melodic warble, unlike the call my dad made. I gathered the twins from the far tree line.

Time to eat!

With the twins running ahead, we returned to Tony’s diner. Last night’s greasy hamburger smell was replaced with the aroma of bacon, sausage, and cinnamon. The place had already filled up. The people in our corner booth left as we arrived. The waitress quickly cleared and cleaned it.

Every male head turned as we walked to our booth. Dad must’ve thought the same thing as I, because he drew me close to him. He made me sit in the middle of the booth where I wasn’t accessible to anyone.

The three guys sitting in the booth to my left kept rubbernecking to look at us. They still gave me the creeps even though they weren’t menacing looking. A nice family with young kids was to my right. That being the safest place, I kept my eyes there or at my table while Dad scanned the crowd.

My poor father. Most fathers worried about their daughters meeting the wrong guy. My father had to be my bodyguard. Five more months. Maybe all his hair wouldn’t be gray, if he had any left.

Though done with the Alaska Highway ferry that brought us here, I still wasn’t free to do as I pleased. Drew, my real, imaginary friend, was right. I’d been cooped up for six long months and found it hard to see the light of December at the end of the tunnel.

Paula only worked nights, so Debra waited on us. In her thirties, she was a bubbly, round brunette with bobbed hair who smelled of lilacs and syrup. She flirted with the truckers, teased the old guys, and laughed with everyone. I looked for Tony, who didn’t seem to be there.

The search for the largest item on the menu took up most of my attention. Sue, embarrassed by how much I ate, tried not to notice. Instead, she hounded the twins about what they could order.

Debra finished pouring coffee for everyone in the room and bounced over to take our order. She raised a well-defined eyebrow when I ordered their largest stuffed omelet, extra hash browns, double stack of pancakes, extra bacon, large banana nut muffin, and a large orange juice. I knew the twins would let me have their toast, so I didn’t order extra of that.

Tony showed up, out of nowhere, when Debra brought our order.

“When I saw all that food, I knew it had to be you.” His broad smile beamed as he greeted us. “I can’t believe you can eat anything after what you ate last night.”

“I can eat any time, day or night.” The pepper tickled my nose as I readied my omelet. One bite and I groaned. It was perfect. Because of The Change anything that was food was perfect. “This is really good, Tony.” I shoveled more in.

He chuckled and shook his head. “I’ll let you folks enjoy your meal. I have a picture to hang up.”

He waved my photograph from last night. My mouth dropped open. He’d printed and framed it? I groaned. The hope that all would be forgotten dashed against the cracked linoleum floor. Instead, he went straight to the wall behind the cash register and hung it up. Debra pointed to the photo. He jabbed a thumb in our direction as he spoke with his hands. She looked over and laughed. I guessed any oddity would do in a small place like this.

Tony enjoyed himself way too much as he told everyone who would listen about how much I ate. Now, I was embarrassed. Dad and the twins thought it was funny. Sue cringed and hid behind her hand that shielded her eyes.

My stomach growled that I shouldn’t waste so much time thinking about the picture when I could be thinking about ways to shovel faster. I spread jelly on my toast and noticed the two rough guys from last night were back in the same spot. They ate their breakfast while staring at me as though watching TV.

When I was almost done, Tony brought over a cinnamon roll the size of a plate. “Ya looked like ya weren’t eating enough, so I figured ya could use some more.”

The twin’s eyes bugged out. When Dad told Tony to bring another one the happy owner took a step back.

“Really?” He was incredulous.

Dad nodded.

Tony looked at me with awe and I blushed. “Coming right up.”

I cut this one into fourths after the proprietor walked away. Sue sliced one of the four pieces in half and told the twins they could have more if they still had room. She cut another piece in half that she and Dad ate.

By the time Tony got back I was on my second piece and eyeing the new roll. He took the empty plate and quickly placed the new one in front of me, probably afraid he would lose fingers if he wasn’t fast enough. No one wanted any more so I finished the second roll by myself. Tony watched -- along with everyone at the counter -- shaking his head the whole time.

When we were done and standing at the cash register, Tony told Dad he was glad he wasn’t feeding me. Dad chuckled and said he was glad he got a raise with the new job.

I felt bad about how much my appetite cost. After I collapsed at school and had to be hospitalized overnight after missing only two meals, Dad told me I wasn’t to worry about the cost. My job was to eat and stay safe. I definitely ate enough. Well, except when I stayed too long with Drew - and I stayed as far away from boys as I could. Doing what he said turned out to not be so easy, since I had to go to school in Oklahoma for the first five months of this escapade.

Would it be the same here, as in Oklahoma? There, boys that normally ignored me would go out of their way to talk to me. They’d want to carry my books even when I didn’t have any books to carry. As The Change became stronger, more and more of them would fight over me. I was so out of my element. At first, I didn’t understand what was happening and was overwhelmed. Now, I could spot an affected guy a mile away.

Gram warned me to just ignore the boys and keep my eyes on my goal. My goal was to reach my seventeenth birthday with my virtue intact. Before things had changed so drastically, I’d thought that would be a piece of cake. After looking into hundreds of loving, affected eyes, the pain of what could be still stung deeply.

It had been more than a little weird as it escalated. Now, boys seem to come out of the woodwork. Some just stare. If that weren’t bad enough, there are those who were compelled to stand next to me. Worst of all were those who had to touch me. They were friendly, and didn’t touch inappropriately. Nonetheless, I constantly had to hide my hands and duck away from hugs. It was kind of creepy how there were more and more of them. I’d tried to stay in the middle of my girlfriends, but as time went on, there were less and less of them. I would’ve been left completely alone to deal with all the smiling faces if it hadn’t been for Donny.

The fresh, crisp morning air rushed past as we headed back to the motel. There were still four more months of school in Alaska before it would be over. I shuddered at the thought.

The sound of the cafe door slamming behind us jerked me from my musing.

The guys that had been in the booth next to us exited in a tight cluster. They made me nervous, and they made Dad move fast, herding us toward the motel. The fresh air must’ve helped, for they only followed halfway. You could see when The Change started to dilute in the gusting wind. They slowed, looked confused and eventually stopped all together. The guys stared in my direction before getting their bearings. They turned and ambled back to the diner.

Dad wiped his flushed brow with his sleeve as he urged us into our rooms. “Now stay here.”

There was no way, short of a herd of guys stampeding to us that the twins and I were going to stay inside on a gorgeous day like this. The sun was up and the day was warming into a great promise.

“Let’s go for a walk, it’s too nice to be inside.” I pleaded.

He shook his head.

“Please, Dad!” We chorused.

Dad looked at Sue for support. She only stared back.

“Dad, I’m sure this whole attraction thing only pertains to two legged males.”

He narrowed his eyes.

I changed my tactic. “You know, fresh air is very important for growing bodies.” I glanced pointedly at the twins, who bubbled at his elbow.

He frowned down at the red heads.

I patted his arm. “We’ll be safe.”

Sue pulled her sweater on. “I could use some fresh air, too.”

Dad sighed, and put the motel key back in his pocket as he took Sue’s hand. Resigned, he followed us around to the path the twins scampered down. I’m sure he would rather have rested after the three guys and his near heart attack. The path ended at a wide field with another grove of trees beyond it. It was beautiful, with wild flowers blooming in patches here and there.

Dad and Sue sat on a log while the kids ran and played. Tim wanted to catch one of the many butterflies that fluttered in the field. Tam didn’t want him possibly harming them, so she ran around scaring the butterflies and anything else in her path.

I sat on the ground in a filtered patch of sun and opened my sketch pad. I wanted to draw the twins running and having fun. Surprisingly, I did draw what I wanted to draw … sort of. The picture went very well until my talent drew a bear in the field behind the unaware twins.

Dad watched me sketch. When he realized what I’d drawn he jumped up and called the twins to us. Tim and Tam came running.

Dad picked up his newspaper. “Come on, let’s go.”

I jumped to my feet.

“Ah, Dad, do we hafta go?” The twins whined.

A bear with cubs meandered into the field from the far clump of trees where the kids had been just moments before. Dad and I looked at each other as we hurried the others back to the motel.

“Yes, we have to go.” Dad kept a hand on each of the kid’s backs as he pushed.

The twins didn’t say anything else as they stared over their shoulders as Sue dragged them down the path. Reluctantly, we went to our rooms while Dad hurried to the office to report the bear. The old TV had long, thin metal rods sticking out that Dad called rabbit ears. I fiddled with them and the picture cleared some. There was a nature show on. The grainy picture had given me a headache by the time Dad came back. He called us into their room and sat us on the bed.

“Okay, here’s the scoop. The motel owner told me that the mother bear and her cubs recently started crossing the meadow every morning on their way to the dump. They check the dumpster in the back of the motel as well as Tony’s. You kids are to be careful to not be near the dumpsters at any time.” Dad warned.

“No problem for me, I’m really not a smelly dumpster type. Now Tim, on the other hand, will have to be watched.” I dodged my little brother’s swing as everyone laughed.

“Not funny, Sylv.” Tim smashed his grin in an attempt to look mad.

We went back to our room and settled for a movie on the grainy TV. I whiled away the rest of the morning eating junk and laughing at the old black and white movies we found.

Even though the last picture I’d drawn turned out to be scary, it was different this time. It was about us. All my other pictures I’d drawn had been about complete strangers. This time, my talent saved my little brother and sister. Maybe some good could come from this, after all.