Chapter One
Wiping tears from my eyes, my ten-year-old self pleads with my momma once again as we sit in the police station. There’s a knot in my stomach. My legs are moving, but they don’t reach the ground, so I swing them under me. The whole time I stare longingly at my momma through my tears.
“Please, Momma, I just wanna go home.”
“Not until you give me answers, young lady. Tell me, how did you know where that girl was?”
“I already told you. She talked to me last night.”
“Ms. Beck, we’re ready for you.”
Momma stands and grabs my arm. The resistance I’m putting up is no match for her. I’m too small and weigh too little to offer a real fight.
I’m bawling; not because I don’t want to tell the truth but because no one will believe me. They never do, and usually shut me down. Then, the ones who’ll listen to me are people others don’t believe, like Mrs. Jennings who lives underneath us. Her husband told Momma the medicine she’s on makes her talk out of her head, but she’s not. Everything she says is true. I’ve seen some of it.
We’re taken into a room and told to have a seat. The lady from yesterday enters with two sodas. She hands my mother one, then me as she sits across from us, next to the guy who came in behind her.
“Winter, do you remember me? I’m Detective White, and this is my partner Detective Goodman. We came by your home yesterday.”
I don’t answer. Instead, I entertain myself by making a game out of counting the square patterns on the table. I trace the lines with my fingers, not looking up and not wanting to talk to anyone. Seeing the look in their eyes makes me feel sad inside, and knowing they won’t believe me makes me feel worse. My mother places her hand on top of mine, it stops my tracing, then she gives it a not so gentle squeeze. I don’t yell out but rather squirm in my seat. I peek at her from under my eyelashes, I know what the look she’s giving me means. I’m in big trouble.
“Winter, you’re being rude. Remember, we talked about this. Tell the truth and you’ll be fine.”
Rubbing my eyes with my free hand, I shake my head and snatch my hand from underneath hers. I don’t have to look at Momma a second time to know she’s mad at me.
“Do you want to be punished, young lady?”
I hunch my shoulders and slouch down in the chair.
Detective Goodman raises his hand and takes Momma’s attention off me. “Ms. Beck, do you mind if Detective White takes your daughter over to the play area? I really would like to speak with you alone. I just have a few questions. She’ll be in the same room, right over in the corner.” He points to the table with the toy box next to it.
“Is that okay with you, Winter?” Momma puts a hand on my shoulder.
I nod and go over to the toy box where I pick up a shaggy doll with yellow mop hair.
“Yeah, I would have gone for that one too,” the lady says, coming up behind me.
For a while, she watches me play without saying anything. But the quietness doesn’t last long.
“Winter, when I was a kid, about your age actually, weird things would happen. I would see and hear things other people didn’t. And when I told my parents, they didn’t believe me. No one believed me. Sometimes things would go missing or happen, and I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to get into trouble. Kids at school were mean and called me names like weirdo because I would talk to people they couldn’t see.”
I look up at her. “What did you do?”
“I stopped telling what I saw. I learned how to live inside my own little bubble, which at times was a very lonely place. But about fifteen years ago, I met some people like me, and I realized I wasn’t alone and I wasn’t crazy.” She reaches for my hand. “There’s nothing wrong with you either. You see things other people don’t. You’re gifted; not weird or crazy or whatever other names you’ve been called.”
I look at her, and she smiles at me. I sit the doll down and reach for another one. “Like the girl in the dumpster?”
“Yes, like the girl in the dumpster.”
“She said her dad hit her hard and she fell down the steps. When she got up, she could see her dad lifting her, but it wasn’t her anymore. He put what used to be her inside the trunk of the car. She said she called out to him, but he didn’t answer, so she got in the car too. That’s when he drove to the dumpster and put her other self, the lifeless self in there. She told me she didn’t want her mom to worry about where she was, and asked me to tell my momma where to find her, so momma could tell her mom. I didn’t want to, but the girl said she wouldn’t go away unless I did it. I told Momma, but she didn’t believe me.”
I’m sniffing back tears. The lady reaches into her pocket and hands me a handkerchief.
“I believe you. But between you and me, most adults won’t. It’s not because they don’t want to. They’re afraid to, they don’t understand.” She cups my chin with her hand. “I’m so sorry you have to go through this.”
I stare at the floor and then look back to Detective White. For the first time, I feel I’m not alone, and I want to tell her more. Swallowing hard, I decide to do it.
“I…I can do things.” My words come out low and broken. I’m not sure if she can hear me.
“Oh yeah. Like what?” She arches a brow and leans in closer.
“Like magic things.” I’ve never shown anyone what I can do, but I feel comfortable with her. “Once a kid in my class saw me spinning a top around without touching it, and fell out of his chair. When the teacher asked what was wrong, he told her. When he wouldn’t let it go, she sent him to the office for lying.”
There’s a box of crayons sitting on the table. I concentrate, and it lifts up into the air. I remove each color, one by one. After a few seconds, I put them back in place and bring it back down. All I had to do was think about what I wanted to happen, and it did. I’d done it before but only when no one else was around. Once I’m done, I make the box disappear. Ms. White looks around then whispers, “Where did it go?”
I point to a shelf across from the toy box. Her mouth opens as if she’s surprised and her eyes widen. She mumbles something but I’m only able to make out “…much control.”
Ms. White shifts in her chair and looks over her shoulder. My eyes follow hers, and I realize she’s making sure no one can see what I’m doing. She looks at me strangely and for a second, I wish I hadn’t shown her what I can do.
But then, she raises a finger, puts it to her lips, and winks at me.
My attention shifts from her to the pages turning by themselves in the book on the table. This time it’s not me.
I smile.
“I told you, you can trust me.” Curving her finger, calling me nearer to her, she leans in close to my ear. “Our secret?”
I nod as we do a silent pinky swear. She strokes my hair, and I feel happy inside. She likes me and knowing that makes me feel good.
“Don’t be surprised if our paths cross again. Just remember, I’m your friend. And as for your mother, don’t worry. I’ll tell her what momma’s need to hear. Everything will be fine.”
Having someone believe me feels good.
She takes my hand and walks me back over to the table.
“Are you all done?” the man talking to Momma asks.
“Yes. I think we are,” Detective White replies.
The lady’s partner slides his chair back, stands, and shakes Momma’s hand.
“Ms. Beck, I think Winter heard something she shouldn’t have. But we discussed it, and she understands she shouldn’t repeat everything she hears or sees. It was probably kids’ playground talk,” Detective White says.
“So, we’re done here.” Relief starts to settle on Momma’s face, and she pats her chest.
“Yes, you are.”
They walk us to the door. Detective White reaches inside her pocket for a pen and one of her cards.
“Ms. Beck, I think you should take Winter to see this lady. She’s a friend of mine, and she’s good with helping kids sort out what’s real from what’s not. Winter’s a good kid. Try not to be too hard on her.”
Detective White winks at me.
We leave and a week later, my mother takes me to see the lady Detective White had spoken of, Ms. Bellamy. I go in for counseling but get something else. She tells me to lie back, relax, and repeat after her. And I do.
“I’m going to make the ghost go away, but I need your help.”
I trust her because she’s a friend of Ms. White’s, so I do as she tells me.
Ms. Bellamy smiles as she says, “After today, you won’t see any more ghosts, at least, not for a while, I promise.”
***
Wiping the drool from the corner of my mouth, I blink a few times before reaching into my bag for the bottle of water. I hadn’t thought about Ms. White and Ms. Bellamy in years. Back then, I called Ms. Bellamy the good witch because of what she’d done. I’m pretty sure she hypnotized or spelled me. At the time, I was just too young to know it and too young to care. It worked and that was what mattered.
I almost don’t care now, except, it’s been happening again—I’ve been seeing strange things and having even stranger visions. Roman’s been in most of them, and he’s always in trouble and calling out for my help.
I always think about him and wish I wouldn’t. How we broke up, him leaving with no real reason, it didn’t add up. After four years, I thought we had a solid relationship. But six months ago, he’d left, and I haven’t heard from him since. I guess I was wrong about us and what we had.
After taking a swig from the water bottle, I look over at Soraya who’s texting and then down at my watch. It’s been less than an hour since we boarded the bus, but it seems longer.
“I hope you’re texting Liam and you two are making up.”
She’s my best friend and I love her, but I like her better when she’s in a relationship. Otherwise, she becomes a nag, offering advice and solutions to nonexistent problems, when I happen to enjoy my life the way it is.
“Nope, it’s not him. It’s work-related but I’m wrapping it up. You’re lucky to have me, so stop with your griping. Anyway, who goes on a bus ride during Christmas? Only you, and I’ll tell you why; it’s because you don’t have anyone to warm you up.” She places her phone in her bag. Looping her arm in mine, she leans on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’m here.” She settles against me.
“Yay, lucky me.”
She’s going on and on about how I need to get laid and in between words, getting as much flavor as possible out of the gum she’s smacking on.
Anyway, I’ll never tell her but she’s right…I’m not feeling the holidays. Soraya has her own theory about why, insisting that having the right someone during the cold months would make me think differently. But I’ve had someone during the winter months. Hell, we were together for four years. Last Christmas we even got a small tree because that’s what Roman wanted. Damn…I hate thinking about him. Everything about this time of year reminds me of him and it doesn’t help that his birthday is December 25. Still, I’m a summer type of girl. I prefer warmer days, less clothes, and beaches, despite my name being Winter and regardless of whether or not I’m in a relationship.
She lifts her head off my shoulder, giving me some much-needed space.
“I thought there was no smoking on this bus,” Soraya says, turning around in her seat curving and glancing down the walkway. Undoubtedly, she was giving the violator a vulgar stare-down with those weird, slanted, amber eyes of hers, with just a hint of copper.
If her candidness didn’t get her the response she wanted, her eyes would. Strangely enough, she’d have the same effect with a softer approach she rarely opted for, since her exotic appearance called for attention, in a good way. She was the very definition of a natural beauty and instead of being a mechanic worker, she could have easily been a model.
“I guess they didn’t get the memo.” I laugh, trying to appease her.
“Well, they’re about to get it.” She was in full Soraya mode and ready to attack. I put my hand on her knee just as she was about to get up.
“Please, let it go.”
“You’ve got to be shitting me. Twenty-three hours of this. I don’t think so.” She pushes my hand away.
I roll my eyes, knowing where this is heading.
“At least try to be nice about it. We’re stuck with them for a while.”
“Umm, yeah, right. I’ll be sure to use my lady voice.” She bats her long, curvy lashes, and give me a sideways smile, showing off the deep dimple in her right cheek.
Sighing, I turn my attention toward the window. There was no point trying to convince her to be cool. Anyway, I couldn’t really blame her. We’d only been on the bus less than an hour. If they’d started to blow smoke already, they’d likely not have a change of heart. Before long, every smoker on here would be pulling out their lighters.
I don’t bother to look back, Soraya isn’t soft-spoken in the least, and I’m sure everyone on the 3556 Greyhound will hear her. Whether they will appreciate her directness will depend on which team they’re on—smokers, versus nonsmokers.
“Do you mind putting out the poison? In case you didn’t notice the signs, this is a nonsmoker’s bus.”
“Lady, it’s just a cigarette.”
“It’s just a cigarette to you but to me and everyone else inhaling secondhand smoke, it’s poison. So stop leading us to a fast death before I report your ass to the driver.”
Something’s telling me to get up and usher her back to her seat but doing so would only make me miserable for the rest of the trip. I’ll let it play out as it may, hoping things won’t go too far.
Digging inside my hoodie pocket, I put in my earbuds and turn up the volume on my MP3 player, high enough to drown out the commotion. Turning to the window, I take in the scenery, which is nice, but I don’t recognize it. I thought I’d known all the back roads, but I guess I was wrong. This area is completely unfamiliar.
Darkness is quickly taking over the skies and the snow is starting to come down heavier. It’s beautiful but I’m becoming concerned. The weather app hadn’t indicated snow until the morning.
I look toward the front of the bus and can barely see out of the window. I’m certain the driver’s sight of the road is impaired too. I can only get a glance of his right side, but don’t miss it when his head turns toward the wooded area. Instinctively, I do the same. I’m assuming he’s looking for a place to pull over.
Taking a double look, I lean in closer to the window, fixing my stare outside. I barely see the shadow of a figure. It’s more of a glow.
The bus is starting to slow down. I remove my earbuds just as Soraya makes it back to her seat.
“You can thank me for a smoke-free trip.” She forces out a deep breath, plunking down next to me. She continues to speak but my focus isn’t on what she’s saying. I’m pretty sure I see the glow again and this time, it’s in front of the bus.
“Are you paying attention?” She shoulder-bumps me.
“Thank you, Soraya,” I say absently.
“You’re welcome.” She leans over me, getting a better view of outside. “Damn, it’s really coming down out there. It would be beautiful if it wasn’t happening now, while I’m on a bus, traveling during what’s sure to be a bad snowstorm. These days make for cozy times, snuggled up by the fireplace, wearing your favorite pajamas, and wrapped in your softest throw. Not going down south to a tattoo convention.”
“Says the girl covered in ink,” I say sarcastically. “Besides, I’m going for the weather. I don’t like the cold, remember? You’re going for the shows.”
“Whatever.” She pushes back in her seat. “There had better be some hot guys there or else.”
“Soraya, do you see that?” Squinting, I point ahead. “Something’s on the road?” I try to keep my voice low, not wanting to draw the attention of the other passengers.
Her head comes forward, and I can tell she’s noticed something too.
“You do see it, don’t you?”
“Shit,” she says in a tone that puts me on edge. “What the fuck?”
“Soraya, what is it?” I ask as the bus draws nearer to the figure. That’s when I realize it’s an animal and a fairly large one.
The other passengers must see it as well because panic-filled whispers start coming from every direction.
“Is it wild dogs?” I ask Soraya. Turning slightly, I get a glimpse of her face. She’s squinting; her brows are furrowed.
“Whatever they are, I don’t think they’re looking to make friends.”