Temptation: A Novel (27 page)

“He healed someone? How?”

“The same way you healed me, Chris.”

I just look at those eyes in the glasses, wanting to know if he’s kidding again. But he’s not.

“These waters have always had a power to them. The Indians told Louis that the waters helped wounds and extended life and all that. But somehow, when combined with the abilities that Solitaire had, the water took on new power.”

“How did I heal you? I tried to kill you.”

Marsh takes a sip of the water. “Yes. You did. I should be angry at you for doing that, too. But that was my whole intent. To lead you to that cabin in the woods. Show you something that would make you
want
to kill me. Then lead you all the way here. Or, I should say, up there.” He nods at the cliff at the top of the falls.

“Why?”

“To prove a point. To see if—if it was really true. And good thing, too, because if I’d been wrong, well …” He raises his eyebrows.

“Why didn’t you die?”

“You are part of the Solitaire bloodline, Chris. Sounds a bit creepy, huh? But it’s true. Same with your uncle. And mother. But for some reason it’s different with the males.”

“What’s different?”

“Their abilities. I’ve seen it with your great-grandfather. He should be dead, Chris. But these waters have extended his life. Along with others. But it’s only when you combine this water—this water here, not the water bottled up and shipped to who knows where—with your touch. Your physical touch. Something happens.”

“What?”

Marsh shakes his head, his eyes bright. Then he laughs. “I don’t know. But it’s real. That I know.”

“No.”

“Chris—please. Please do not say you didn’t just see what happened. Twice now I’ve shown you. I proved it to myself, but that was also for you. How do you think I survived that knife in my stomach? Or falling over into these waters. I think I landed right over there, by those big sharp rocks.”

I shake my head, but I can’t argue with what he’s trying to prove.

“This is just part of it, Chris. Just a fraction of who you are. And what you can do.”

He’s talking as if I’m in a comic book movie and he’s suddenly going to tell me my new name is Thor or Captain America or something.

“I grew up hearing rumors of abilities like this, and then I saw it. I never believed in spirits and demons until—well, until I was proven very, very wrong. I long to have what your great-grandfather has, and what
you
have. But I don’t. But I do know that it’s real.”

I look at my wrist, and it looks fine.

“If I told you this the second day you came to town, what would you have done? Probably taken the first bus out of here, if of course Solitary had buses running from it. You’d be delirious with fear and wouldn’t believe it. But now, after seeing everything you’ve seen, do you believe me?”

I shake my head, sigh, then look at him and ask the question I still need an answer for.

“But what do you want from me? Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because, Chris. In nine months—less than that now—your great-grandfather is going to die. And you need to fill his place.”

“Fill what place? To do what?”

“To continue the great work he’s done. That your family has done ever since Louis came here and discovered this place and decided to make it his home. This is your home too, Chris. And it’s time for you to grow up and be a man and
accept
who you truly are.”

I still don’t get it. “So who am I? What does my family do?”

“They’re able—
you’re
able to see on the other side. And with time, you’ll be able to control the forces that are over there, no matter how terrifying they might be.”

80. Angry

I ignore the calls from Dad. It’s dinnertime, and I’m supposed to be home. And I’m heading home, my head floating in clouds of doubt and denial. And maybe deliriousness.

I need to see Lily.

Maybe I’ll tell her everything going on. Just get it all out so that someone can help me make sense of it all.

The gunshot wound.

Thinking of Lily makes me think of this. And I feel shivers, thinking about what Marsh said to me.

Did they bring me to the waterfall and baptize me that night to heal me?

Maybe she can’t make sense of this any more than I can, but at least she can make sure I’m not losing my mind.

It’s maybe around six or something when I get off my bike and head up to the bed-and-breakfast. I wonder how long Lily is going to be staying at this place. Maybe I can move in here in an extra bedroom that Lily can slip into at night when her mother is asleep.

I’m almost to the door when I see the figures.

Lily is standing under a huge umbrella of a tree in the garden area to the side. There’s someone next to her—no, make that attached to her. She leans against the tree and some dark-haired guy leans against her.

They’re kissing.

No, they’re doing more than kissing.

That’s no ordinary kiss.

That’s the guy she called an old friend, someone who went “way back” with her.

I stand there and watch, feeling worse than I did after Marsh cut me. Now I feel naked and stupid and angry and confused.

Her hands are all over this guy, and I see the two of them almost slide down the tree.

It’d be funny if it weren’t Lily.

I wait one more second to make sure I’m really seeing this, then I turn around and quickly take off.

My motorcycle engine is loud, and I can see a figure emerging from the lawn just as I turn around to head back home.

I know it’s Lily watching me, just like I was watching her.

Watching her and whatever guy she was with.

My dad almost grounds me again, but I tell him I could care less. I have less than nine months until I graduate and have freedom. Now that whatever I had with Lily seems to be over

And what DID I have with Lily, come to think about it?

it doesn’t really matter if I get grounded again. You have to have things to be grounded from. And I don’t. Not anymore.

I don’t talk much to Dad tonight. He asks if everything is okay, and I shrug and say yes. But all I am thinking about is Lily.

I don’t get a call or a text or anything from her. I know she saw me. And I know she knows I saw her.

It takes me a long time to go to sleep. I’m thinking of what Marsh said and what Lily did.

And all of it just makes me really, really angry.

81. Deliverance

Dad has been here a couple weeks when he comes to my room one evening. Studying is hard enough when it’s just you and a textbook while the rest of the world has to wait. But when you have all the crazy thoughts that are going on in my head—well, that makes reading about biology even more difficult.

Make that impossible.

“I just spoke with your mother,” Dad tells me as he stands at the doorway. “It looks like she’s going to have to spend a little more time in the inpatient program.”

“You mean rehab?”

“Yes.”

I hate when people don’t use the term that makes more sense. Like saying someone’s an addict when they really should just say he’s a drunk. It seems to let them off the hook in some way. Or maybe it makes it better when you have to say it out loud.

“What happened?”

“She just had a few setbacks.”

I look at him, waiting for more. But more doesn’t come.

I’m not in the mood to hear whether Mom escaped and hit the road in a convertible heading west. Or if she got caught with a two-liter jug of Diet Coke mixed with something.

“So how long is she going to be?”

“They don’t know.”

Dad looks as annoyed as I am. The lines on his forehead seem extra long and deep in the dim light of my room.

“You okay?” he asks me.

I nod. No, I’m not okay, not really, but that’s been going on a year. Dad and I are on speaking terms, and things are fine so I just want to leave things like that. Just fine.

He looks around my room, at the sloped ceiling and the small desk. Then he just shakes his head.

“Chris, you need to understand something about Mom. Something about Mom and you and all of us. Something I believed back home and something I’m thoroughly convinced of now that I’m here.”

He sighs, walks into the room, and sits on the edge of my bed. Midnight is by my desk, close to my feet like she always is when I sit there.

“I think our family is under a great spiritual attack. I saw it happening all the way back in Libertyville with your mother. Some of the things she said—and even did …”

“I know what’s wrong with her,” I say.

“What?”

“She likes to drink too much.”

He looks at me, nods, then clasps his hand tight.

“There’s a battle going on. For your mother and you. For your lives. For your souls.”

I shift in my chair.

“Don’t roll your eyes,” Dad says. “I know you don’t believe in any of this. And I know I was wrong to suddenly come into your life and try to force you to believe in something. But the world is a dark place, Chris. You’ll come to understand that.”

“I believe that now.”

“We can’t do it on our own. I tried. God knows I tried for close to forty years. I tried and I failed. And I finally gave in.”

“And everything’s better?”

“Don’t. Just, please, Chris, don’t. I’m not forcing anything here. I’ve laid off. You gotta give me that. Right? I’ve let you be. Tell me if I haven’t.”

I nod, knowing he’s right.

“This darkness—I think it’s trying to destroy our family, the little bits we have left. I’ve prayed for your mother and you every day, numerous times each day. Not that you come back to me. But that you find God. That you find deliverance from this darkness. I just didn’t know—I didn’t know how bad it was down here. And I’m sorry I didn’t just ignore your mother and come down here to see for myself.”

I think of Iris talking about the dark and the light and the spaces in between. Then I think of the verses in Daniel that I read.

“There’s only one way to fight this darkness. It’s accepting Jesus. Not just a God above who is there to believe in. Because everybody—most people anyway—claim they believe in a God. I claimed this for years. But it’s God’s Son, Chris. His name. His sacrifice. His ability to take all of the bad stuff and make it go away.”

I still don’t get it. I really don’t. “So your life has worked out perfectly since you ‘accepted’ Jesus?”

“The bad stuff is my own sins. Doesn’t mean I suddenly become perfect. But it means that I don’t have to carry those mistakes and hurts to the grave. They’ve been paid for. That’s how He delivers us from the darkness.”

I don’t say anything, and there’s a long pause. One that soon becomes a bit awkward. I’m too tired to disagree. I don’t feel moved because I’ve heard this before and I just can’t accept it. Not in light of everything going on. I don’t think suddenly believing that Jesus Christ really did all the things He was supposed to have done will suddenly make my days and Solitary a lot brighter.

“I’m not trying to preach at you, Chris. If I were more eloquent, or patient, or a lot of things, maybe, you’d hear me out. But that’s—I needed to say that. To tell you those things.”

I nod.

“I love you,” Dad says as he stands and then grips my shoulder.

He’s got a strong grip.

He closes the door and I close my biology book, staring at the wall in front of me.

I sit there trying not to think of the words my father just said. But it’s impossible.

82. Midnight City

The October days leading up to Halloween all feel gloomy, clouded, damp, and messy. I’m a fallen leaf stuck under a rut in the mud that’s been driven over one too many times. Perhaps my English teacher might like that line, but I don’t because it’s too true and too tiring.

Lily tries to talk to me, but I refuse. She tries three different times but then seems to say
Okay, fine, I’m done with trying.
Which is fine by me because I’m done wondering what is going on with Lily. Obviously she has other things going on in her life. Other people in her life. Other guys.

Make that one other guy.

I just wake up and get out of the house without too much drama, then go through the motions of school.

I do my best at trying to avoid everything and everyone.

Lunch periods I walk around listening to my iPod. I have lunch sometimes with Newt, as long as he’s not trying to make me do something I don’t want to do. I hang around with Harris and others. I avoid Lily. And I’m still being avoided by Kelsey.

An advisor comes out of nowhere to meet with me and ask what I want to do with my life.

“Get out of here,” I say, which he laughs at until he sees my expression.

My English teacher makes us read
Moby Dick,
and I come to see the whale as a symbol of the hope I’m looking for in this town. The hope I can’t seem to ever find because everybody just keeps lying to me.

The Halloween dance is coming up with a special spooky theme, but I know I’m not about to go to a stupid dance. I’m not going to any dumb party afterward. Or then again, maybe I will, and maybe I’ll get so drunk I’ll climb up on the roof and try to use the so-called magical powers Marsh says I have to zap some idiot with lightning.

Dad tries to make a point of having dinner. He’s stressed and worried and at one point he said it has to do with finances but that I shouldn’t have to worry about it so I don’t.

Once I see the big SUV driven by Staunch coming my way on the street while I’m riding my bike, and I just pass it by as it slows to a stop. Maybe he wants to talk to me, but I sure don’t want to talk to him.

I know I can’t keep this up forever, this whole avoiding and going through the motions thing. But for a few weeks it seems to work pretty good.

And then I get friend request from Kelsey.

I never go on Facebook and I never update anything, but still she wants to be friends.

For a while I debate doing it, but I’m curious. I thought she hated me, and besides, I’ve seen her hanging around with some dark-haired guy, so why now?

Eventually I click accept.

Such a simple, stupid thing to say I “accept her friendship.”

I thought we were friends, right, after all that last year?

Then what about the summer you stupid moron?

The voices in my head are getting meaner. I wish they had a volume knob.

I go on Kelsey’s page and then, suddenly, the past few weeks and the endless dreary days seem gone.

She doesn’t have many friends, and her settings are set to private. But she’s inviting me in to see her little life.

I find myself on the beach with her. Bright-eyed and happy and glowing Kelsey. I’m on a city sidewalk with her, toasting to something. I’m with a group of girls all laughing and posing. I’m standing at the edge of some cliff looking over.

I don’t know what it is about looking at those pictures and seeing all the things that Kelsey “likes.” But it makes me feel better. It makes me feel normal. It brings me back to a place when I didn’t have all of
THIS!
shrieking in my ears all day long.

I’m sad, and I don’t want to be sad anymore. I want that smile on Kelsey’s face. I want a family that seems as secure as hers. I want a future that seems as optimistic as hers.

And then, after looking at her life on display for a long time—so long I lose track of time—I see a message pop up on my screen. Not an instant message—I’ve got my settings so I can’t get those. This just shows up in the inbox.

I click to find a message from the very same girl I’m looking at.

It’s eleven o’clock, and dark and stormy outside, yet it’s kinda comforting to find her still awake.

Thanks for accepting my friend request. Chris—I hope we’re still friends. You’ve seemed quite blue lately. Yeah, I’ve noticed. But then again, I’ve always noticed.

I don’t reply. But that night, all through the night, I think of Kelsey’s words.

It seems like nobody, and I mean nobody—from my mother and father to my missing uncle and crazy great-aunt to the teachers to the students to the hot girl I fell for this summer to the mean man up the street and the freaky pastor—can be trusted.

Yet I trust Kelsey.

I’ve always noticed.

This is the first time I’m actually glad someone is paying attention.

I’m thinking of her cute, sweet face when I finally close my eyes.