Chapter 66

Melinda blinked awake and lifted her head, her bleary eyes barely focusing on anything past the foot of her bed. "What?" she said in a groggy voice.

"I was going to ask the same thing."

The sound of her sister's voice jolted her to full wakefulness, and she sat up in bed. "What time is it?"

"Just short of one in the morning," said Heather.

"Did you wake me--?"

She was interrupted by her own gasp as something smacked against the window like a hailstone.

"I think that woke you up," Heather said, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "Just like it did me a minute ago."

Melinda flinched as another blow struck, this time more wet-sounding, like packed snow. She tossed the covers aside and padded to the window, taking care to only peek between the blinds, as she was clad in only her panties.

She spotted him just before another projectile flew at her face and rattled the glass. She yelped and flinched, then opened the blind and waved at him in what she hoped would be interpreted as anger. "What the fuck, Richie?!" she whisper-shouted.

"Richie?" Heather said as she came up from behind.

Melinda looked down and waved again. Richie finally saw her and gestured.

"He wants me to come downstairs?" Melinda asked in bewilderment, turning towards Heather.

Heather shrugged. "Beats me what this is about."

Melinda sighed and waved to Richie again before stepping away from the window. "What could he possibly want at this hour?"

"Maybe we better just go and see what he wants," Heather said, fetching a robe from her closet.

Melinda dashed across the room to grab hers. "This is nuts! What if Mom wakes up?"

"Then we'll have to be quiet."

Melinda rolled her eyes. "Oh, you're a lot of help. Come on."

Melinda tip-toed out of the room and paused to glance down the hall towards her parents' bedroom. She heard soft snoring but couldn't tell from which parent it emanated. She headed down the stairs, taking care to avoid the ones she knew creaked.

At the bottom, she wrapped her robe more tightly around herself and shivered. "Shit, it's freezing down here."

"You're always complaining about that, runt," Heather said. "Come on, we have to let him in."

Melinda grabbed her arm. "Wait! We can't ... I mean..."

"You just said you're cold, right? You want to step out there instead?"

Melinda frowned and pushed past her sister. She dashed to the front door and carefully unlocked it, cringing at the loud click of the bolt. As soon as she opened the door, Richie stepped inside.

"Shit, Richie, nice way to almost break my window," Melinda said as shivered again from the cold air which followed Richie inside.

Richie glanced at Heather, looking uncertain. "Well, your mother isn't exactly fucking helping by not letting anyone talk to you on the phone," he grumbled.

"Richie, what is it?" Heather said, sounding impatient. "We don't know if our parents heard the noise or not."

"I need to talk to you, Melinda," Richie said. He glanced at Heather. "Yeah, I guess you better hear this, too."

"Hear what?" Melinda said, her voice quavering. "Please don't tell me that something's really gone wrong now!"

"It's about your mother. What me and Diane found out."

Melinda frowned. "Not that shit again! You actually woke me up at one A.M. just to--"

"Look, will you listen to me?!" Richie growled.

Heather glanced up the stairs. "Guys, cool it. Any louder and we will be heard. Let's go into the den."

Melinda folded her arms and made a point of being the last one to follow. As soon as she had closed the door behind them, she whirled towards Richie. "I don't know what the hell you think you can do. I don't need you to tell me what's going on."

"You don't have the whole story," Richie said. "Everything was your fucking Aunt Jo's doing."

Melinda looked aghast. "What?!"

"Yeah, the same bitch who wants you as her freaking fuck toy. She tricked your mother into doing a deal with the Darkness."

"Ohmigod. She really ... she actually..."

"Listen to me! She really did do it because she thought it would protect you and Heather."

"That's bullshit, Richie. No one could possibly--"

"And Victor helped Jo fuck up your mother."

Melinda was struck speechless, her thoughts simply freezing in place.

"Victor?" Heather asked in a small voice. "A-are you sure?"

"Saw it myself," said Richie. "Look, you two were born with some sort of resistance to the Darkness, and your mother has the ability to let other people see the Auras."

Melinda's head was spinning. She had no idea what to say.

"But your Mom didn't know about your resistance. Jo made sure she never found out. She fucked with your mother's head, not like mind control, but pulling dirty tricks on her, making her think you and Heather were in danger of being turned into sex slaves soon as you hit fourteen."

"Fourteen?!" Heather gasped.

"Yeah. Maybe Victor claims that's too young for him, but not for the Dark bitch, I guess."

"W-wait, this is going too fast for me!" Melinda cried in a shaky voice. "How could Aunt Jo manage all that? How many years was she doing it?"

"Yeah, I know," Richie said. "I kept thinking your mother shoulda gotten a few clues. So maybe she's not perfect, okay? But I'm serious, Melinda. I wouldn't fucking lie to you like this. Maybe I've done a lot of shit you won't ever forgive me for--"

Melinda flinched as if something had been thrown at her face.

"--but I never fucking lied to you even once. So your mother got backed into a corner. She had no fucking allies. She thought the Darkness was just about to take Heather. So she did a deal."

"I don't understand!" Melinda cried, her eyes misting. "You just said me and Heather have a resistance. Why would Mom do a deal to protect us if we were already protected?"

"I told you, your mother didn't know!" Richie cried. "Your mother is the fucking victim here, Melinda. She thought she was protecting you and Heather. Instead, the Darkness planned to use your mother to get at you two, to get around your resistance or some shit like that."

"Oh God," Heather groaned. "I never thought ... I just..."

Melinda shook her head. "No, this is stupid." She sniffled and wiped a tear which had trickled down her cheek. "This is insane!"

"I'm telling you, it's the truth!" Richie said. "My visions don't fucking lie."

"I don't give a shit about your visions!" Melinda shrieked.

Heather grasped her sister's arm, but it was immediately wrenched from her grip. "Melinda, keep your voice down for God's sake!" Heather whisper-shouted.

"D-don't tell me what to do," Melinda cried, trembling. "None of this matters. Mom n-never did anything good for us."

"Melinda, that's not true," Heather said in a flat voice.

Melinda wiped her eyes. "So wh-what do you want of me?"

Richie stepped up to her. "You have to try to rescue your mother tomorrow."

"What?!"

"Wait, what?" Heather echoed, glancing between the two of them.

Richie narrowed his eyes at Heather for a moment. "Look, Melinda, can I talk to you in private?"

"Why?" Melinda demanded.

"I just need to, okay? Please, trust me."

Melinda glanced between Heather and Richie, never having felt so torn in her life. She wanted to believe every word Richie said. She wanted to think her mother had meant well, but she had trouble seeing past the last few weeks.

Now Heather had promised to spare her a life as a sex slave to their aunt. She didn't need to give Richie the time of day. She could end this and go back to bed, and to hell with her mother.

She uttered a weak, forlorn sigh. "Heather, let me do this. I promise I'll tell you anything that's important."

Heather gave Richie another wary glance and nodded slowly. "Okay. I'll be in the living room."

She stepped slowly out of the room, giving them one more backward glance before closing the door behind her.

Melinda frowned at Richie. "Before you go on, I want you to answer something for me."

"Anything," Richie said.

"You said you saw the whole thing. So do you have any clue how she makes Dad not see a fucking thing when he has no Aura?"

"Yeah. She has a little of Victor's power."

Melinda's eyes became saucers. "Wh-what?! She even did a deal with--?!"

"No, no!" Richie said, waving his hands. "She has it naturally. Just a little bit of it."

Melinda forced herself to take a deep breath, though she could not unclench her fists. "All right. What's so super-secret you need to talk to me in private?"

"You're not gonna like this."

"I already don't like any of this shit!"

"Your sister is planning on giving you to Ms. Bendon."

Melinda stared at him as if he had sprouted an extra head.

"Yeah, I know. But she's got these panties, the same ones she was forced to wear as punishment. She's gonna put them on you, and then only Ms. Bendon can--"

Melinda spun around and stomped towards the door.

"Melinda, wait!" Richie cried.

"I'm not hearing any more of this crap, Richie. I'm going back to bed."

She was about to reach for the door when Richie grasped her arm hard and spun her around to face him.

Reality unexpectedly shifted.

"What the fuck?!" Melinda cried as she squinted at sunlight streaming through the windows. She tried to leap back when she spotted her mother sitting at the desk, but Richie held her firm. She wrenched her arm, but he held on tighter. "Let go of me!"

"I can't, I'll lose the vision!"

"Lose the--?"

A sudden shrill shriek pierced the air, and a figure barreled through her as if she were only mist. Melinda staggered at the emotions which blared through her mind during the brief contact, and she held her head as if it were about to explode. The sensation passed as quickly as it had come, but there had been no mistaking the despair and sadness.

Her mother turned at the sound, and Melinda's eyes widened. "Mom?! She's so ... and that's ... me..."

Melinda stared as her bawling six-year-old self was pulled into her mother's lap.

"Oh, honey, what is it?" Penny said in a tender voice.

Young Melinda wailed for another minute before her mother could calm her down enough to talk. "Th-the ... the other kidsh ... won't shtop l-laughing at me..."

Penny uttered a forlorn sigh. "Honey, I'm so sorry."

"Why c-can't I talk like them?! Why d-do I have to have thish shtupid lishp?!"

Young Melinda went off on another bawling episode, her mother rocking her and whispering into her ear.

"I-I don't get this," Melinda said. "This can't be from my past."

"It is, it has to be." Richie held up Melinda's arm. "This triggered it. I didn't think touching people could do it but--"

"Fuck you, Richie! I never had a lisp!" Melinda cried. "I'd sure as hell remember if I did!"

Penny's eyes suddenly misted as she calmed her daughter, her face pensive. Richie suddenly yanked Melinda forward and plunged her hand into her mother's figure.

"Richie, what the fuck?! Ohmigod, it's like she's a gh--"

Her thoughts were again frozen, this time to make way for others.

... has nothing worked? Four speech therapists now. Four. And a neurologist. No one can tell me why she can't lose this lisp. Oh, God, she's so miserable. I can't remember the last time I saw her smile. I have to do something. I can't let her suffer. I...

Melinda staggered back, overwhelmed.

Penny situated her daughter in her lap. "Now, Melinda, dry your eyes for me."

Young Melinda sniffled and wiped her eyes, casting her gaze down.

"Look up for me, please."

Reluctantly, young Melinda's head came up.

"Melinda ... you do not have a lisp."

The Melinda of the present flinched when she felt a sudden tingling all over her skin. "What... ?"

"I feel it, too," Richie said. "Holy shit."

Melinda had no words. She could only stare.

Young Melinda stared at her mother as well, her eyes slightly glazed.

A single tear trickled down Penny's face, and her lips twitched into a smile. "In fact, Melinda, you've never had a lisp. It was all a story someone made up about you."

Present-day Melinda's mouth dropped open as she suddenly recalled a memory. On her seventh birthday, her Great Aunt had asked her what had happened to her "cute little lisp." Her mother had hastily tried to explain to a bewildered Melinda that her great Aunt was getting on in years and sometimes mixed up things like that about her nephews and nieces.

Young Melinda's mouth slowly opened. "A ... a ... a story."

"Yes, a story," Penny gushed. "A silly story. Can you say that for me?"

"Silly story," young Melinda said.

"That's it, Melinda."

"Silly story, silly story!" young Melinda sang.

"There, see?"

Young Melinda looked perplexed for a moment. "Why am I saying that, Mommy?"

"Just a silly thing you wanted to do, honey," Penny said.

Young Melinda paused, then broke into a smile and laughed. Penny hugged her daughter, tears trickling down her cheeks.

Melinda blinked as dimness suddenly shrouded her, and her younger mother and self vanished into a past she had never remembered. She blinked in an attempt to repress the tears which blurred her vision before they flowed down her face.

She failed and sank to her knees, sobbing.

"Aw, fuck," Richie said in a small voice.

Like a dam bursting in her head, memories which had been suppressed for eight years drowned out her other thoughts. "Oh my God," Melinda croaked. "I-I remember now ... oh, God, I remember ... I was s-so miserable. H-Heather ... Mom must've altered her memory, too."

Melinda heard a single sniffle and a strained clearing of a throat. Richie crouched beside her, draping an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him and sobbed, her mind a complete jumble.

"Um ... so ... you see what I mean, right?" Richie said, his voice quavering. "Your Mom did that for you. Why would she want to do any of that bad shit from the Dark bitch unless she thought it was the right thing to do?"

Melinda shook her head and wiped her face. "I-I don't know what to think anymore, Richie! And n-now you tell me Heather's a-after me..."

"Look, Diane's gonna take care of that. Mrs. Radson's gonna bring her over here and stop Heather from doing this, then she's gonna rescue Heather. You're gonna get your sister back."

Melinda looked at Richie, tears still trickling down her cheeks. "A-and you still expect me to save Mom."

"Well, I sure as hell hope you want to now!"

Melinda sniffled and staggered to her feet, staring at the chair where her younger mother had sat. "I-I don't know if I can do it."

"You got the potion. Of course you--"

Melinda whirled around. "You don't understand! It's not just fighting the Darkness. Wasn't there something about facing your worst fear or your worst flaw?"

"Oh, that," Richie said, running a hand through his hair.

"Yeah, that! I don't even know what that would be. I'm scared of the Darkness itself, isn't that fucking enough?"

"I don't know either! I'm going into this blind, too. I'm not gonna be in any better shape than you."

Melinda rolled her eyes. "Oh, that inspires confidence. Thanks. That the same thing you were thinking when you messed with everyone in the House?"

Richie frowned. "Fuck, Melinda, of all the times to bring up something like that."

"I can't help it! I keep thinking if it wasn't for that stupid House, none of this would've happened."

"No, I mean, you just never fucking let go of things. Shit, I'm gonna be hearing about that when we're both old and toothless."

Melinda wanted to explode at him and remind him of just how many times he had crossed her, and how he had barely begun to make up for them. She stopped herself when she realized she had just proven his point.

So much for maturity.

Her eyes threatened to mist again, and she wiped them while giving a single large sniff. "I'm not crying anymore," she said through clenched teeth. "I have to stop being a baby."

"If you wanna do that, go rescue your mother tomorrow," Richie said.

"Fine!" Melinda snapped. She paused and glanced at the chair again, her expression softening. "If only to repay her for what she did for me when I was six."

"There's something else I have to tell you," said Richie. "We're gonna have to coordinate all this."

"Coordinate? What the hell are you talking about?"

"We all have to do this at the same time. You rescue your mother, I rescue my Mom, Jason's father rescues--"

"Wait, what?!" Melinda cried, staring. "What does Jason's father have to do with this?"

Richie sighed. "Long story. Just listen, okay? I don't think Heather's gonna stay away much longer. Cassie's gonna call you, me, and Jason's father at the right time. She's gonna just let it ring once or twice and then hang up before anyone answers. That's the signal."

Melinda nodded. "All right, I'll try. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, but I'll try." Richie placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked at him for an uncertain moment, then pulled him into a hug. "I'm sorry I got so mad at you."

Richie hugged her back. "Don't worry about it."

They had just parted when the door opened. "Guys, I heard Mom using the bathroom!" Heather whisper-shouted. "She just went back to bed. Richie, you've got to get out of here now."

"Yeah, I'm going," Richie said as he headed towards the door. Heather and Melinda followed him out, glancing up the stairs. He said not another word and bolted out the front door, down the walk, and had already disappeared down the street by the time Heather closed the door.

Melinda let out a windy sigh and sniffled. Heather tilted her head. "You've been crying."

"No, I haven't."

"Just what did he say to you in there?"

Melinda's mind raced while her heart ached. She still wanted to believe that Richie had been lying to her, but she could not muster up the fortitude. Seeing the vision from eight years ago had changed everything. She could rely on none of her own conclusions any longer.

"Just showed me some stupid vision of myself." Melinda paused to steady her voice. "Something about people making up a story about me having a lisp."

Heather's eyes widened. "Wow, I hadn't thought about that in years."

"You remember that?"

"Yeah, it was really weird. I spent a whole freaking two weeks trying to convince the other kids at school that they were nuts. No idea how the hell they had ever thought you had a lisp."

Melinda took a deep breath to stem a renewed flow of tears. "We better get back to bed."

"You sure you're okay?"

Melinda was anything but okay. She had no idea how she was going to get back to sleep. Already her heart was pounding in anticipation of what would be expected of her the next day.

She realized then it was not the Darkness which frightened her the most; it was several months of undeserved hatred which teetered over her like a leaning tower, ready to crash down and crush her.

"I'm fine," Melinda lied, turning towards the stairs. "Let's go back to bed."

Cassie realized as she arose that morning that she had a problem.

She had spent her dream time doing nothing more than what she once did, which was visit the lives and memories of random Havenites. She did not want to do anything more taxing for fear of using any of the energy she had stockpiled.

Sleep, in fact, was the problem.

It was what triggered her gifts. She had to be asleep to use them, which meant effectively taking a nap in the middle of the day. She had thought to use the excuse of having had trouble sleeping the night before but rejected this when she remembered that her parents knew something of her gifts. They might see through any such transparent attempt.

This left her with only one option, which was to feign illness, but she would first have to agree to a visit by the family physician.

She tried to set the stage by acting lethargic at breakfast and refusing to finish her portion. Only a slightly raised eyebrow from her mother was evidence that her odd behavior was noticed. Then again, it could have been in response to any number of violations of protocol which Cassie may have already committed that morning in her nervousness.