“Thanksgiving is in another week. I’ll talk to Mel and stay here until then, but I need to be with her and Dex for the holiday.”
Patrick nodded. “I can stay. Elaine is out of school, and I’m sure she wouldn’t mind coming out here for the break.”
“What about Lane?”
“Kenny takes him to Bayville for Thanksgiving. They do a family reunion-type thing.”
Nodding, I looked back toward the fire. “You don’t mind hanging around here?”
“Look, Stuart’s my brother. If he’s in trouble, I’m staying.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Chapter 4: Where the Wind Blows
Mariska
Pain. Burning. Explosions. All around me is confusion and yelling. The bright beige of the desert contrasts sharply against the dark green and brown of the armored vehicles, and figures in white robes and sand-colored fatigues rush by without stopping.
I can’t control what’s happening, but I’ve got to complete this mission. I’ve got to get him to safety. Someone grabs my arms and drags me roughly away. A whistle grows louder from above, then BOOM!
We’re all lifted a foot off the ground then slammed back again...
Gasping, I sat straight up in the bed and stared into the darkness of my bedroom. What the hell was that?
I’d had vivid dreams since I was a little girl. My Yaya said it was because I was more sensitive than others, and she liked to note that I dreamed in color. Very unusual.
Still, all my dreams were about me—a solution to a problem or a premonition of something coming. Nothing in my life was like the images I’d just seen. My body shook, and my heart beat too fast. I was afraid. My dreams also never scared me. I could control them because they were mine.
Only... this dream wasn’t mine.
My grandmother taught me to keep a dream journal. She said it would help me understand when the events came to pass. I just had to write them down and wait.
She’d taught me to read coffee grounds in the old Turkish style and to detect auras. She would smile and say everything was connected. If I paid attention, I’d see how. Thinking of her calmed my frayed nerves. I missed her so much.
Reaching for the notepad I kept on my bedside table, I quickly jotted down everything I could remember from the brief nightmare. By the time I’d finished recording as many details as I could, my eyes had grown heavy again.
Curling onto my side, I looked up at the window over my bed. From this angle, I could see the night sky. It was clear, and a million stars blanketed it. Since she’d passed, stars always made me think of Yaya. They were mystical and magical. They held secrets, and if you could read them, they gave answers. They granted wishes...
Tonight, however, was different. Tonight, I thought of him. He’d said he was going west, somewhere to find peace. A streak of white, and a star shot past. I closed my eyes and made a quiet wish. Then I imagined him under a sky filled with stars just like the one outside my window.
* * *
Stuart
Derek sat with me through that long first night. He kept the fire going, and he kept the pain relievers and whiskey coming.
“Was your uncle always a rancher?” He asked after our third round of Jameson.
“No,” I said, taking another sip. We were having too much, but it dulled the pain significantly. “He was a fucking hippie. My dad hated him.”
“What the fuck is up with the brothers in your family?”
I laughed with him. The fact that I could do that right now told me I was one sip away from being shit-faced. “Too many strong personalities. Too little patience.”
“No shit.” Derek took another sip before lowering the glass beside him.
I’d set up a few logs around the fire, and it looked like we’d spend the night out here sitting in front of it drinking. It was cold as Valley Forge, but we were both wearing Carhartt jackets and the fire burned hot. Derek kept it stoked, so I didn’t have to move if I didn’t want to.