Part 12 (1/2)
”Remember? Big house, fields, garden, goats” Gabriel looks at me sideways but makes no comment. I s.h.i.+ft in the pa.s.senger seat and an empty c.o.ke can spins away from my foot.
”I don't want to go home,” she says predictably, and I sigh, digging my nails deeper into my thighs.
”Yes, I know. It's only for a little while. Then we're coming back. Okay, Rowena?”
I crane my neck, try to smile at my sister. But she won't return my smile, won't even look at me. Instead her face and hands are pressed to the rain-smeared window and I have a sudden absurd flash of what she must look like to other drivers and pa.s.sengers on the highway. Her fingers twitch restlessly on the gla.s.s, her nails tapping out a Morse code message of distress.
”He doesn't want me to go,” she whispers so softly that it's like a thread of sound, practically lost over the rush of wheels and rain.
”He needs me” At last she turns a fretful face to me and says, ”I need to go back. I know it. I know it here,” and she thumps her chest so hard that I almost feel the vibration in my own body. She s.h.i.+fts in the back seat but then immediately lurches forward again, her mouth stretched into a narrow slash.
”Listen, Rowena,” I beg, barely clear on what I'm saying.
”We just need to go home for a little while. Just a little, little while. And then we're going back. I promise” In the same breath I mutter to Gabriel, ”Can't you go any faster?” Gabriel looks sideways at me again and answers in the same muttering tone.
”I'm pus.h.i.+ng eighty-five. That's about all this piece-of-c.r.a.p car can do.”
”He wants me back!” Rowena shrieks suddenly, slamming her hands into the back of Gabriel's headrest.
”s.h.i.+t!” he exclaims, and we lurch around a car in our lane, just sc.r.a.ping past.
”Rowena,” I say, reaching out to grab her hands. She twists away as the pale point of her tongue darts across her upper lip. Her eyes, which seem all pupils right now, grow darker.
”We're going to go back. But it's good this way. Really,” I babble.
”It's good to play hard to get. Guys get more intrigued this way. Right, Gabriel?
Gabriel?” He looks in the rearview mirror, regarding my sister like she's a rabid animal.
”Um ... oh, yeah. We ... love that stuff. Gets us really hot. ”
I nod maniacally as my sister's eyes flicker to me. For one brief instant her face is blank and then she shakes her head.
”What do you know, Tam? What do you know about love?” Swallowing hard, I silently acknowledge that the words, at least, are pure Rowena, even if the tone-blank, emotionless-is all wrong.
”I know this isn't love,” I say, all pretense of remaining calm gone.
”This is something, but it sure as s.h.i.+t isn't love” I wrap my hands around my knees- otherwise I'm afraid I will reach out and attempt to slap my sister back to sense.
”Easy, Tam,” Gabriel murmurs, reaching out one hand, and I take it, feeling the comforting squeeze of his warm fingers. But Rowena's next words drive all that from my head.
”He told me you would say that. That you wouldn't understand. None of you.”
”Oh, really?” I say, my voice dripping with scorn.
”And what did he-”
”We need to turn back,” Rowena says again, and now her voice has smoothed, stretched into its familiar sweetness.
”He wants me to come back. To him” I stare at her, helpless.
”Gabriel,” my sister singsongs, ignoring me now.
”Turn the car around. At the next exit you are going to turn around and head back to New York City.”
”Tam,” Gabriel says slowly, dreamily, ”maybe we should go back. ”
”What? No! Are you crazy? Don't listen to her!”
”Yes, listen to me,” my sister adds, her voice supple and beseeching.
”This is what you have to do. Turn the car around. ”
”Okay, okay,” Gabriel agrees, his voice brightening as if he is only too happy to oblige my sister. I punch him. Hard.
”Ow! What the h.e.l.l?” He shakes his head briefly, his fingers tightening on the wheel, and then he gives me a look.
”Tam, what do I... I feel-”Rowena leans back against the seat.
”That's it, Gabriel, ” she purrs, her voice looping and twirling through the car like warm b.u.t.terscotch taffy.
”You're doing the right thing,” she encourages as Gabriel flicks on his blinker and heads into the right lane. A truck's horn blares at us, its headlights slas.h.i.+ng through the car.
”Don't kill us in the process,” I snap.
”Don't listen to her,” Rowena says.
”She doesn't understand. Anything.” Ignoring her, I reach across Gabriel's lap and crank down the window. Rain splatters through, soaking us both.
”Shake it off,” I tell him.
”I can't... she needs me to do this,” he murmurs. His fingers tighten even more on the wheel, but we're heading for the exit too fast. Tick, tick, tick. The sound of the blinker seems unnaturally loud.
”Calm down, Tamsin,” my sister says.
”Stop trying to tell Gabriel what to do. ” Her voice is b.u.t.ter rich, starting to reverberate warmly inside me, like ripples spreading outward across the surface of a lake. She hasn't used her Talent on me in years, but I remember that this is what it feels like. And then I get the weirdest sensation. It's as if the widening rings of Rowena's voice hit a stone wall inside me and shatter on impact. Just like that they go silent. Without pausing to think, I lean forward and tap Gabriel on the shoulder.
”Stop listening to her. Stop” I stare at my sister, who is staring back at me.
”Enough,” I say quietly. Gabriel blinks and twitches as if he's received an electric shock.
”What was that?” he whispers. In the next instant he flips off the blinker and we glide past the exit.
”Noooooooo!” Rowena screams, pounding the seat next to her in fury. I think I've never heard anything so sweet. An hour and a half later we grind to a halt.
”Home sweet home,” I say, and for once I mean it. Rowena seems to be asleep in the back seat, although every once in a while a spasm crosses her face and she moans as if in pain. Gabriel switches off the ignition, leans forward a little, and rests his head on the wheel. With one hand he rubs at his neck, his fingers circling the blue moon tattoo.
”Aren't you glad you came back?” I ask after a few seconds. He gives me a look, one side of his mouth hooking upward in what I hope is a smile, but he doesn't answer. And I don't have time to thank him because the door crashes open and my mother is flying down the driveway, her hair struggling free of whatever she's managed to stick in it. In the next second she disappears and then flickers into view in the back seat of the car.
”Hi, Mom,” I say, my voice somewhat m.u.f.fled as she has me enveloped in as much of a hug as she can from the back seat. My head is smashed into her shoulder and my neck is starting to develop a serious kink. Her skin smells of lavender and sage, its heady perfume thickening all around me.