Chapter VIII
Penny and I were in the gardens on the 5th floor and I was wheeling her around. We had our escorts, her mom, armed police and Jed had barely left my side.
The hospital wanted to keep me a couple of extra days to run some kind of tests on my head. I could hear them talking in hushed tones about the two of us.
“Watch them,” a doctor murmured. “She knows what he’s going to do before he does it. He anticipates her moves, too. It’s like they’re tuned into each other. We had them both on a heart monitor and their heart beats are synchronized. There are orders to do an MRI and bets are on their being on the same wave lengths.”
“Newspaper reported he’s psychic. He warned a cop about a shoot-out, told him to get his vest and saved his life, warned a security guard about a gas explosion and saved him, too.
“I heard the mother. She said the boy went into the little girl’s head and took away the bad memories. She certainly doesn’t act traumatized like she was sexually assaulted but I did the original assessment and I know she was, not to mention the lacerated throat. That knife missed her superior jugular by an inch.”
“Any damage to her vocal cords?”
“Yes, but they are healing, too. I expect more miracles where he’s concerned,” the doctor laughed. “I believe in miracles, now. You have only to look at those two and see one.”
I squeezed her hand and we both looked up at the sky to watch the clouds form animals over our heads.
She liked dragons and Pegasus; I saw lions and tigers, woolly sheep and clown faces. Neither one of us spoke, we had no need for words nor when the sadness hit me, Penny was the one who patted my face and stroked me with compassion. She wanted to give me her new teddy bear but such things had never been my comfort.
I wondered if I’d had a dog or ever wanted one. Penny had one at home, a non-descript mutt she had rescued from the pound and was waiting for her to come home.
Home was out in the country, in a nice subdivision with neighborhood watch and neighbors with guns that would defend her with their lives. She would go back to safety and the arms of her mom and community. Her fears were not for herself but for me.
“Cale, it’s time to go in,” the nurse called to us and I pivoted her chair and returned her to the room. Masses of flowers, toys and stuffed animals, balloons with Get Well wishes filled the area from family, friends and the community who had taken the little girl to their hearts. She had tried to give them to me but I wanted no recognition, wanted anonymity.
My uncle was waiting on me and we walked comfortably down to the cafeteria where we shared a root beer float and a chili cheese dog. “Your aunt and I went to the ranch over the week end,” he offered. “Grass is coming up good. Especially over the graves. The sink holes have been filled in before any of the cattle fell in. Good calf crop this year. I expect they’ll bring a good price at market.”
“Uncle Jamesy, did I have a dog?”
He looked at me oddly. “You have a blue Heeler name Zak. He was off hunting when the intruder broke in. We think he tried to follow you. The other dogs were killed. We buried them in the cemetery, too. They tried to defend the girls.”
“Who’s taking care of the ranch now?”
“I hired a family to run it while I’m in Dallas. Unless you want to live there, that’s what I’ll do. Fly down on the weekends, check on things.”
“No. Don’t want to go there,” I was vehement.
“Are you afraid he’ll come back?”
“Not that. Well, maybe. I heard the police talking. They said I’m on a list for someone to buy me. What’s to stop them from trying again?”
“Dr. Deleon will put you in protective custody. You’ll live in a safe house, go to school under a false name, and have a bodyguard.” He looked at me with those unusual family eyes and I could see myself in them. “Cale, did you use your talent to pick the Lotto ticket? You know how your parents thought about using it for personal gain, that it brought bad luck.”
“Truthfully, Uncle James, I don’t remember. I don’t think so. None of the numbers mean anything and I didn’t even know about winning until Dr. Deleon told me.”
“It’s in trust for you. You’ll be able to access the principle at age 18, the interest earlier. Or I can set up an allowance for you with a debit card. You’ve always been a sensible kid, I remember you saving your allowance for a year to get a new compound bow you wanted. I don’t think you’ll go out and buy a sports car.”
“Maybe a pickup truck,” I grinned.
“Finished? You have a 3 p.m. appointment for a cat scan and a MRI. Not afraid of closed in places, if I remember. You and Curt used to go caving all the time.”
“What else did I like?” I was curious. On the way back to the day room, he told me who I used to be.