The Curse Of Dark Root: Part One Part 24

"No," we both answered together.

"Good. But just for kicks, let's see if we can get a better look." He prodded me with two fingers and the image on the screen wriggled in protest. "Yes, sir," the doctor said. "We have ourselves a boy."

I had already known this in my heart, having had the vision, but now, seeing the image of my babymy sonon the monitor, everything suddenly felt so real. Without thinking, I squeezed Michael's hand.

"Our baby," I whispered to him.

"Our baby," Michael whispered back. "He's beautiful."

The doctor finished the exam and promised to give me a picture to take home. He left the room, allowing me to dress, and made me promise to come back the following week for another checkup.

"I can't believe it," I said as I climbed back into the wheelchair. "I'm really going to be a mother."

"I can't believe it, either," Michael said. "I'm going to be a dad."

TWENTY-TWO.

Paint It Black The ghosts awaited me, gathering near as I covered my eyes while Michael wheeled me out. Twice, I felt their icy fingers, probing and poking through my skin. I fought every instinct I had to leap from the wheelchair and run screaming out of the building. But even as I felt the spirits, I also sensed the eyes of the staff upon me. They would either forcefully admit me or think me insane. Once outdoors, I was free of the apparitions, though they beckoned me from the windows, calling for me to return.

"You really didn't see them?" I asked as I climbed into the van. Looking back I noted their faces, gray wisps crowding the panes. I wondered if it was agony to be incorporeal yet earthbound. Maybe I would come back and help them one day?

"Do you still see them?" Michael asked when the hospital was out of view.

I did a quick search of the van, checking the rearview mirrors, hoping that nothing had latched on to us. "No."

"It was probably just trauma. I wouldn't worry about it."

"Ah, f.u.c.k!"

"What? Are you in pain again?"

"No." I slumped down into my seat. "I left my giant panties under the pillow."

Michael laughed.

"It's not funny. I didn't want Doctor Patrick to see those. They look like something Aunt Dora would wear."

Michael smiled and I smiled back, struck by a sense of dej vu as I recalled the road trips the two of us had taken in this very van. Me driving, him preachinggathering converts and spreading The Word. It was as if the years had melted away and we were back there again, only I was larger and Michael was at the wheel.

The rain had stopped and the sun returned, yellow and calm. I rolled down the window, letting my fingers feel the cool spring air. Michael fiddled with the still-working radio, scrolling through the stations. He settled on 60's cla.s.sic rock, Jim Morrison and The Beatles lulling us into a bright but contemplative mood.

I leaned back, resting my hands across my bulging lap and kicking my feet onto the dashboard, staring at the blurry image in the sonogram. Soon, I would hold him. My baby. A wave of love swept over me and I closed my eyes, reveling in the sensation.

"Don't fall asleep," Michael said, tapping my knee. "We're making a stop."

"We are? Where?" I dropped my legs and wriggled against the seatbelt, trying to get more comfortable.

Michael turned the corner and we rambled into downtown Linsburg. We cruised up and down Main Street several times, taking in the bustling scene. There were at least a dozen quaint shops including a candy store, a flower shop, a hair salon, and a full service haberdashery, whatever that was.

"Lunch?" He found a parking s.p.a.ce and pointed to a diner.

I swallowed, torn. I was ravenous, but this was the cafe that Shane had taken me to. Though we weren't romantically involved then, I still thought of it as our place, and our first date. Michael opened my door and helped me out before I could figure out a reason to protest.

"You won't regret it," he said, taking my arm and escorting me up the sidewalk. "I hear they make the best sandwiches in the state."

"Grilled cheese," I agreed.

He looked at me, surprised. "So you do get out? I'm happy to hear that. I love your family, don't get me wrong, but I don't think it's good for your mental or spiritual health to be cooped up in Dark Root all of the time."

"And why not?"

He sniffed. "No offense, Maggie, but everyone in that town is practically inbred. No wonder they have such strange beliefs."

I stopped, mid-step. "Inbred?" I ground my teeth and tightened my fists. "We are not inbred."

He lifted his hands. "I said no offense."

"Well, that makes everything better. As for strange beliefs, you do remember that you thought aliens were going to come take us away before the earth exploded, right?"

His face flushed. He looked pensively around to see if anyone was listening. "Yes, I did. But I've had time to think about that."

"So, you don't believe that anymore?"

"Let's just say I've expanded my views."

"Doesn't sound like it."

Michael could incite my anger in a way that only Mother had before. And then it occurred to me how similar the two wereboth following a path few believed in, both putting their own agenda first, and both d.a.m.ning-to-h.e.l.l anyone who didn't believe as they did.

No wonder it had been so easy for me to run off with Michael. He was my mother, sans the b.r.e.a.s.t.s and pointed hat.

I continued down the sidewalk, turning away so that Michael couldn't see how disturbed I was, not only by his words, but by my revelation.

But Mother had changed near the end. Maybe Michael would too?

It started to rain again, a dull drizzle at first followed by giant drops that plopped against my head. We arrived at the restaurant and a waitress with red curls greeted us, though her eyes rested a moment too long on Michael's slim torso and broad shoulders.

"Table for two?" she asked.

I gave the woman a strained smile. "How about two tables for one?"

"She's my wife, and she's kidding," Michael said, pulling me to his side.

The waitress gave him a quick laugh, looked at my hand and noted Shane's ring, then escorted us to a charming table near the window. She handed us two laminated menus and left.

I immediately leaned across the table. "Why is it that every time I start to like you, you say something stupid and screw it all up?"

"What did I say?"

I huffed, rolled my eyes, and leaned back in my chair. "You're unbelievable."

"I don't think I've ever said that." He looked over the menu, unperturbed. "Don't these pancakes look good?" He pointed to a picture on the plastic menu. "But I should try the grilled cheese, since you speak so highly of it." Then, as if he were saying the most natural thing in the world, he added, "Remember the ring I gave you when we finished building Woodhaven? What happened to it?"

I flicked my menu at him. "I'm not your wife. I'm not wearing your ring. And I wish you would just go away."

He glanced at the gold band on my hand. "As far as I know, you aren't Shane's wife, either." He leaned back, his long legs touching mine.

I jerked my feet away. "I don't want to be with you," I hissed, my cheeks burning. "You took advantage of my daddy issues but they are resolved now. And the only reason you are back in my life is because you have parental 'rights,' whatever that means. That doesn't give you access to me. Got it?"

"My little fireball. I missed that. Maggie, you're the only one who's ever challenged me. I hope our baby gets your spirit."

The waitress returned with newly-applied lipstick and two gla.s.ses of water. "You folks decide yet?" she asked, her voice an octave higher and sweeter than before.

"Two grilled cheeses," Michael said. "And a large basket of fries with a side of ranch dressing."

"Any pie?" she asked, not looking at me. "We have a great banana cream."

"No thanks." Michael raised his hand. "We are trying to eat healthy for the baby."

"He is, I'm not," I said, straightening up. "Bring me an entire banana cream pie, my own basket of fries, and skip the grilled cheese."

The waitress looked to Michael for conformation. He nodded and she left, her plush bottom swaying for Michael's benefit.

"Who said you could order for me?"

"Isn't that what you were going to eat?"

"Yes, but you didn't know that."

He sat up, adjusted the collar of his polo s.h.i.+rt, and then arranged his silverware so that the handles all lined up. "Yes, I did know what you were going to order. Maggie. I know everything about you."

His chair violently propelled backwards several inches. He looked at me surprised but said nothing as he drew himself back to the table.

"You didn't expect that, did you? You don't know anything about me, not anymore."

He raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, careful not to touch his silverware art. "Try me."

"What's my middle name?"

"Mae. Next?"

"My favorite color?"

"You don't have a favorite color because if you picked just one, you might hurt the other color's feelings."

I crinkled my brow. "What did I want to be when I grew up?"

"Anything but your mother." He dropped his hands into his lap. "Which is ironic because"

"Oh, shut up. I hate you."

"Hate is a strong word, and G.o.d doesn't like it."

"Would you make up your mind about G.o.d? One minute you're telling me you've evolved and the next you're paraphrasing Scripture. I think you use G.o.d when it suits you." I took a drink of my water. "Besides, according to you, G.o.d doesn't like any of the things I do. Why should I start pleasing him now?"

"Or Her?"

"Her?"

"Yes, G.o.d might be a Her. Don't you think?"

If he was trying to get to me, it worked. Michael had only ever promoted the idea of G.o.d being a grander version of himself, and now he was debating me on the nature and gender of the divine.

The waitress returned with our food and I ate in silence while Michael babbled on about this charming little town and how it might be a good location to open a martial arts studio once he made black belt. I tried to tune him out as I dug into my fries and pie, but after only a few bites, I started feeling sick.

"You don't look so good," he said, pulling out a credit card and handing it to our waitress as she pa.s.sed.

"Since when do you use one of those? I thought we couldn't trust bankers."

"I keep telling you I've changed Maggie. I hope you see that."

I grabbed my alpaca sweater and headed out of the diner, leaving Michael behind. I was determined to keep my emotions in check, lest the whole restaurant lose power. Michael caught up to me as I reached the van. He tried to open the pa.s.senger door for me, but I pushed him away.

"What did I do today, exactly, to p.i.s.s you off? I'm just trying to be here for you, Maggie."

"What do you mean, what did you do?" I flung my hands out in exasperation. "You show up in my town, tell me you are going to move here, convince my aunt you are the best thing since clean laundry, seduce my sister, and speak pompously about your own beliefs while condemning mine."

I wrestled with the latch on the pa.s.senger door and finally managed to open it. I was frozen by what waited for me on the insidea woman with mousy hair, a rat's nose, and a weasel's eyes.

Leah.

"h.e.l.lo, sister," she said, a smile snaking across her paper-white face. "I needed a ride. I was hoping you could help me out."

"Get out of my seat."

"But I have a message from my mother," she smiled sweetly. "She says tick-tock."

It happened so fast.

The energy I unleashed terrified me. It was not a deliberate act. It was pure instinct.

I clutched her shoulders, and for a frightening moment, saw her insidesthe frail skeleton that held her together.