The Weird Travels of Aimee Schmidt: The Curse of the Gifted (37 page)

The door opened. A young man in dark scrubs with a stethoscope hanging around his neck came in. He walked quickly past James.

James continued writing without looking up.

The young man stepped behind the curtain to the other patient. Aimee heard only the sound of mechanical clicks and beeps. After a long minute he stepped around the curtain and looked at her. She gasped. His blonde hair hung in silky layers down to his shoulders. His crystal blue eyes bore into hers just as they had when Aimee first saw him on the street. A smile slowly spread across his face. He opened his mouth and the sound of British flowed softly. “Aimee, finally we meet. I’ve been waiting for you for a very long time.”

“Who
are
you? What’s happening? Where am I?” screeched Aimee. She pointed towards
James. “And why can’t he hear me?” Before he could answer Aimee continued, “Where’s my boyfriend, Dylan…Dylan Townsend?”

Nothing made sense. Was she dreaming? Was this another terrible, sick nightmare?

“I’m Joseph Smith,” he said as he pulled the name badge hanging around his neck closer so she could see, “and I’ve waited my entire life for you.”

“What do you mean you’ve waited all your life for me? Who
are
you? What’s going on here?
Where’s Dylan?” Completely frustrated by his answer, Aimee tried to get up out of bed.

Joseph tried to restrain her. “You can’t get up, yet. You’re badly injured.”

Aimee screamed,
“STOP! SHUT UP! I don’t want to hear this anymore! I want Dylan! What
did you do to him?!”

Without taking his eyes from Aimee's face, Joseph reached behind him and grabbed the curtain dividing the room, then yanked it back. Her eyes snapped from the young nurse towards the patient in the other bed. Ominous machines pumped and groaned while they worked to keep the patient alive. The person was wrapped in white bandages from head to toe with only the face exposed. With all her strength, Aimee craned to her side to see who it was. Unexpectedly, a scream roared out of the inner depths of her soul.

“OMIGOD, DYLAN, NOOOO!”

She forgot she was tethered by her own intricate network of tubes, wires, and casts. The adrenaline ripped through her faster than the flapping wings of a hummingbird, and Aimee bolted out of the bed like she had received a shot of speed directly into her heart.

And she was falling…falling…and everything around her turned dark. ...

…Aimee awoke right before she hit the hard, wood floor. She wailed at the top of her lungs. Zonker, who had been nestled behind her legs, shot up and flew off the bed with his stub tucked as low as he could get it. He nervously scratched at the door for Dad to open so he could escape the madness. The illumination from the PC monitor barely lit the room, and Aimee immediately realized where she was. No one was coming to her rescue. Dad wasn’t here. Dylan and James weren’t here. Fortunately, Joseph had vanished.

But she was here…and alone. And everything in her once safe little haven scared her. Breathless, Aimee yanked herself off the floor and caught her reflection in the mirror above the desk. The glow from the monitor cast a ghost-like shade to her already pale color. She gasped at the sight and grabbed the paperback on the nightstand, then pitched it with deadly accuracy at her reflection. It hit the mirror and bounced off landing with a thud on the floor. Zonker jumped. His stub disappeared completely while he scratched furiously at the door to get out.

“YOU’RE CRAZY!”
Aimee yelled out,
“CRAZY!”

The screams turned into sobs and Aimee collapsed back onto the edge of the bed. She tightened her arms around her chest and rocked, like always, to calm the monster within. Zonker now sat motionless at the door, too afraid to move. He watched her suspiciously. Suddenly, they both jumped. The alarm buzzed hideously. She slapped it off, and then crumbled onto her pillow. Every ounce of adrenaline was now purged from her body. She wiped her wet face with the edge of the sheet and laid there staring at the darkened ceiling. After a few minutes Aimee felt Zonker leap back up onto the bed. He slowly approached with his little nose wiggling as he sniffed at her face to make sure his human had returned. Aimee rubbed his head and said, “Sorry, Z Boy. I didn’t mean to scare you.” She stroked his sheared back until he plopped down. He rested his head on her tummy and intently scrutinized her face with a worried look.

The dream rushed back. The haunting images fueled her heart and it began to flutter. “Deep breath, Aimee. Just chill,” she whispered. She clamped shut her eyes trying to force the vision away. But the terrifying image of Dylan lying lifeless, hooked up to machines breathing for him, frightened her and she started to feel ill. The room twirled like a merry-go-round. Aimee seized her phone and hit Dylan’s number. It rang a few times.
“Come on, Dylan,
pleeease
answer!” she muttered impatiently under her breath. Finally on the
fifth ring he answered.

“Hey, good morning. What time is it?” Dylan asked groggily.

“It’s six o’clock. I’m
really
sorry I woke you.”

“That’s okay. I need to get up. You okay? Your dad…” he paused briefly before finishing, “…uh, Mike, is he okay?”

“I haven’t talked to Dad since last night, but I’m sure he’s fine. I’m going to the hospital after I drop off my project. I’ll probably be out today. I want to be there when he wakes up from his procedure.”

“That’s good. I’m sure everything will go fine. Do you want me to come with you?”

“You don’t need to miss school just to babysit me at the hospital. I’ll be okay going by myself, but you can come by after school and stay with me at the house. All right?”

“You bet. I promised Mike I would keep an eye on you,” Dylan teased. “You sure you’re okay? You sound like something’s bothering you.”

“Nope, I’m fine now that I’ve heard your voice,” answered Aimee trying to sound convincing.

“Aimee, you can tell me anything. If something is upsetting you, maybe talking about it will help.”

“No, really, I’m fine. I just had one of my bad dreams, but I’m okay now. Really.”

“Hey, someone once told me if you tell a dream it won’t come true…” Dylan started.

But Aimee was already a step ahead. “And since it’s a bad dream I should tell you so there’s no way it’ll come true, right?”

“Yeah, right. I’m listening if you want to tell me. You’ll feel better.” His voice was inviting,
and she was so tempted to tell him, but Aimee wasn’t sure it
was
a dream. Something about it was
hauntingly real.

“No really, I’m okay. I’d just as soon forget it.” Aimee shuddered quietly. “I just needed to
hear your voice to make me feel better. You’re a million times more potent than that
really
good med
icine they used to make me take. I feel better just hearing your voice.”

“Aww, babe, that’s nice. Kinda weird, but nice.”

“Yeah, well, I’m feeling a little weird. I guess I’ll let you go. I’m gonna get in a quick run before I go to school.”

“I’ll be waiting for you in the parking lot, okay?”

“All right.” There was silence for a few seconds before Aimee began again. “Hey, Dylan…”
she paused. Aimee
so
wanted to share her dream just in case there was any truth to the ‘busting a dream
by sharing it’ theory, but she stopped.

“Yep?”

“Uhh…I...uh...I just wanted to tell you how much I love you.”

“I love you more,” Dylan answered with a silky voice. “See you at school.”

“Yeah, in one hour and fifty-two minutes.”

Aimee set her phone on the nightstand. “Okay, Z Boy. You need to go out, and I need to get in
a run. I
really
need to run. My mind is starting to turn on me.”

Zonker dove from the bed and Aimee reached under the bed frame to pull out her running shoes. As soon as she opened the door, Z Boy darted to the backdoor and waited patiently until Aimee caught up. It took her two minutes to get her running clothes and gear on, drink some water, and plug in her earbuds. She flipped on her dad’s favorite album and cranked up the sound. Aimee wanted to drown out everything else that might be tempted to invade her brain not welcomed…everything, that is, except the run and Dylan.

The rain from the night before had brought in a cool front. The air was crisp and invigorating for May. The run lifted her spirits and by the time she finished four miles her nerves felt at peace. She showered and dressed quickly, picked up the clutter that decorated her bedroom and even made the bed, all twenty minutes before she had to leave the house to make it to school on time. Aimee reached for her dad’s truck keys from the bookcase and caught her parents’ picture. She had stared at that picture a million times before and never once noticed anyone else but Mom and Dad. But in the background, way beyond the camera’s sharp eye, was the obscure image of a young male, his front almost completely turned away from the camera. His hair looked fair and it hung in layers down to his shoulders.

A shiver shot through her like a bullet. She closed her eyes and tried to shake away the ghostly stranger. But when she opened them, he was still there. Aimee could only see a sliver of his face from the side, not enough to squelch all doubt, but the hair was identical to the young British man from her dream.

There’s no freakin’ way this can be happening!
She slammed down the picture so the photo was
face down, snatched the keys and her backpack, and raced out of the room. Aimee couldn’t get out of the house fast enough. She jumped into her dad’s truck and smashed down the lock. Drops of sweat
appeared on her face while she sat in the driveway staring at her house. Things were getting
very
weird.
And to make matters worse, the stabbing pain that crept up and made itself at home behind her temples before almost all of her journeys suddenly raised its wicked presence.

“Geez, of all the friggin’ times. What else could possibly happen?” she mumbled bleakly and wiped her face with the back of her hand. She stuck the key in the ignition and cranked the motor.

All the way to school Aimee's mind was absorbed by the impending feeling of change coming. She couldn’t explain it, but too many strange things were occurring, most of them somehow connected
to her
gift
.
Even her dreams were becoming constant reminders; foretellers of the future, perhaps? She
didn’t know what to think. It was so totally bizarre, yet she was wide awake watching her reality resemble her dreams more and more.

She sighed heavily as she pulled into the student parking lot at East Medford. Aimee drove the entire way without remembering the drive. Somehow she went through the last intersection without realizing she needed to stop. Her brain was stuck in overload. She had to snap out of this mind-boggling obsession of trying to figure out the reason for all of the weirdness in her life recently, and deal with the fact she was destined to fulfill a purpose that was out of her control. She needed to be herself - a chameleon - and just change to adapt to her environment. She had perfected blending like a chameleon. Now she needed to become good at changing like a chameleon.

Aimee looked at the time on her cell phone. The first bell wouldn’t ring for about five minutes. Lots of kids still lingered in their cars or milled around gossiping. She eased into a space and instantly spotted Dylan leaning against his FJ with his arms crossed loosely over his front. He was watching the cars pulling into the lot obviously waiting for her. He perked up and a big smile broke when he spotted her dad’s truck. He picked up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder, and then rapidly started walking her way.

Aimee turned off the truck and flipped down the visor to take a quick peek. At the same time Dylan opened the door and extended his hand into the cab. With her hand in his, he effortlessly whipped her out of the truck and into his arms in one graceful swoosh.

“Hey you! Wow! What’s with the exceptionally groovy mood?” She giggled lightly as he planted his body against her. His lips quickly followed. She forgot they were in a public parking lot and within seconds they had reminders that others were watching.

“Hey, dude, get a room!” Travis hollered at them when he and Courtney walked by. Courtney giggled loudly and shouted, “Aimee, go girl!” Both of them continued laughing while they walked past. Dylan’s lips never left Aimee's to acknowledge their wisecracks. Finally, after a very long moment, they both came up for air.

“Geez, Dylan, you’re acting like you haven’t seen me in weeks.”

“What? You don’t like?” he asked pursing his lips mockingly.

Aimee smiled, her mood finally lifted out of the darkness it had been in earlier. “No, I like, but the
problem is I like
too
much.”

“Well, we’ll just have to keep practicing until we get it perfect, won’t we?” He took her hand, and they started walking towards the main building.

Chelsea, Courtney, and Jana were waiting at Dr. Morris’s door. All three grinned mischievously at them when Dylan and Aimee approached. Aimee just smirked and walked past. They headed into the class just as the bell rang. Dr. Morris’s substitute was writing her name on the chalkboard. Dr. Morris was camped out at the hospital with Dad, where Aimee should be. Dylan let go of her hand and headed for his desk while Aimee stopped at the front. Students were still filing in and getting settled. Aimee glanced up at the board to get her name.

“Hi, Mrs. Porter.”

She stopped jotting down notes and turned around to greet Aimee. “Good morning. Can I help you?” she asked with a cheerful smile on her face.

“Yes, ma’am. I’m Aimee Schmidt. And I need to turn in my project and leave. My dad is in the hospital and he’s having a procedure done today. I want to be there with him.”