Note for Dead Zone fans: I took the liberty to change the timeline a little. It does not affect this chapter but it will be important in the following ones. Please, do not be angry about it. It is all in benefit of the story.
"John!"
"Bruce, my man," echoed John's voice from the kitchen. "You're late." Not that John really regretted that. Normally he greatly appreciated the younger man's company, but now when Bruce was late that meant less time for therapy, which John welcomed.
"John, look what the cat dragged in. Or better, who."
"What?" Johnny turned and saw the answer of his question standing in the doorway. The young soprano from church. She stood in front of Bruce. She wore an off the shoulder dress which pronounced her collarbones. Bruce hands were clasped around her slender shoulders. He pushed her in. Gentle but firm. His face was filled with anger, and hers mirrored it. Not at all like the kind face he met at church.
"Found her snooping around the house. You'd better call Walt."
John sat down and looked at the girl. What a coincidence, he thought. First Purdy not wanting me to ask questions about this girl because it upsets him, and now she is here, appearing on my doorstep. How intriguing.
"Miss Davids, you just missed the Reverend. Mind telling us why you are here?"
"And what did the good reverend have to say?" she said ignoring John's question. He noticed the sarcasm in her voice. Totally unlike the shy, soft voice she had spoken with yesterday. The inflection reminded him of Bruce, and also the way she crossed her arms. He did not answer but searched her eyes. Blue and green and fierce. But behind the fierceness a sadness he thought he understood now. He thought about Purdy's story and despite the fact that she was trespassing on his property he felt compassion for her. So young, so alone. In the silent seconds she read his eyes and realization dawned, and she didn't like it. "He told you about me, didn't he. Why I was at the chapel." The words flashed through her mind and reached her mouth before she could bite them back. Damn it, she thought. Normally I'm more careful with my words, this isn't me. She looked at the hands on her shoulders and understood. I though he looked like someone who wears his heart on his sleeve.
"Yes, he told me. I 'm sorry."
"Spare me your sympathy." She looked at the ground, her lips quivered lightly as if trying not to cry. "Anyway, it is not a secret. "
"Can someone fill me in on this conversation," Bruce said, still holding Ruth by her shoulders. Neither Johnny nor Ruth showed intention tot elucidate.
"Well?"
"Miss Davids was at the chapel to find more out about the parents," said John when Ruth remained silent. "They died some years ago."
"Yeah, that's a real sad story." Said Bruce uncharacteristically nasty. "But that doesn't explain why Miss Davids is here. Checking the windows and not, I might say, to admire the woodwork." Johnny looked in surprised at the younger man. This outburst was unlike him. Anger and concern both fought for a place on Bruce's face. "Do I have to remember you about another young lady, not that long ago. A nice homemade seafood dinner that ended in a nice homemade kidnapping?" Ah, thought John, that's what bothering him. He was touched.
Ruth looked up at Bruce, straining her neck.
"Do I look like a kidnapper?" she said evenly agitated as Bruce.
"You might. Mr. Smith is kind of a celebrity around here."
"Yeah, yeah I know." She waved here hand irritably. "Visions and all. The local psychic. I've read about it." John looked at her. There was no surprise, no suspicion, no morbid interest or disbelief in her eyes, which normally was the case when his abilities were first mentioned. She just accepted it as a fact as one accepts that all men have two eyes, a nose and a mouth, usually.
"That's not why I am here."
"Then why are you here?"
"Several reasons, the first one being this." She took some photos out her purse. "Purdy gave me these." She wanted to hand them to John but Bruce snatched them away.
"John, look at this."
Bruce handed the photos to Johnny who stared at it, a long time.
"Purdy gave you these?' he whispered without taking his eyes of the pictures. She nodded
"These pictures are..."
"Pictures form your car accident, I know. I did some research at the library. Searching in newspapers. You were front-page news for two days straight did you know that? Very dramatic. Young, talented high school teacher in terrible car crash. Pictures and all."
"Why would Purdy give you pictures of Johnny's car crash," said Bruce.
She smiled. "This is were it gets interesting. He told me that it are pictures of my parents car crash."
They looked at one another. John sat down. His leg was aching and he felt a headache coming up.
"Why would he do that," said Bruce while he let go off he shoulders. The same moment Ruth's face softened. She looked again like the shy girl John had seen in church. She rubbed her temples.
"Mind if I sit down?"
"Please do."
He gave her back the pictures and the kitchen disappeared.
It was night. He stood in the corner of a small room. A large window through which the crescent moon shone on a table in the center of the room. A woman at he table was nursing a baby, singing a song to it. The same melody he had heard Miss Davids sing. The baby cried. On the table several needles and saucer with a dark fluid. John came closer a saw that the baby's right shoulder was bare and red inflamed and had some strange dark streaks over it. The woman, still singing, put the baby on the table, face down. She took a needle, put it in the dark fluid, and she stuck it in the child's inflamed shoulder. And again, and again, and again. John realized in horror what those dark streaks were. "My God she is tattooing the baby." Time accelerated and while he watched and the baby, cried, the tattoo grew. The door flew open before the woman had finished. In the door way stood a twenty years younger reverend Purdy. John looked at the baby and read the first part of the tattoo.
"Kings 3: 16-28…"
He was back in the kitchen. Bruce and Ruth sitting in front of him. The latter suddenly very pale, just like himself.
"What?" said Bruce. "Did you have a vision? What did you see?"
John looked at disbelief at Ruth, still disgusted by his vision.
"I think I know what you saw."
She turned their back towards them and pulled her dress a little down and uncovered her right shoulder.
It was a bit stretched because of growth, and blurred by time but it was still there. A tattoo blue letters: Kings 3: 16-28. Herb Sm
To be continued
Thank you all for reading...
