Something in the back of her mind was poking and prodding her to remember something of great import, but she had no idea what it was or how to reach it. All she knew was that something very strange was happening to her . . . maybe even to Daniel as well. Was it this house?

Was it this place? What in the h.e.l.l was going on?

Sitting against the wide trunk of a cedar, Jessie closed her eyes to bask in the sun's warmth that peeked through the endless clouds that hovered over this coast. She hadn't been stoned in a long time, but her mind was acting as if it were; her thoughts were so disjointed that she could barely keep one train of thought going for very long. Maybe she was just exhausted; drained from the emotional and mental ordeal of adaptation. This felt so much like pot that Jessie wondered if it might be a flashback. Could people flashback on marijuana? She'd never heard of it, but that didn't mean it couldn't happen.

With her eyes still closed, she watched a variety of scenes play out in her head; partying with her friends and relating some old folk tale she'd been reading for cla.s.s, and having those listening tell her she had a gift; a great gift for storytelling, for holding an audience captive.

She saw herself on the top of the Bank of America building with Wendy just before the junior prom, when she had told Wendy that she always felt like she was looking for something, some deeper meaning than the drug-filled life she was leading. Wendy's advice had been to look deeper into the pot brownies and less into the stupid schoolbooks.

"I just feel like I'm missing a piece," Jessie had said, staring down at the panoramic view of the city. There was no more beautiful skyline than that of San Francisco. "Or maybe I'm just missing peace."

50 *51.

Thinking back on it now, Jessie wondered if they weren't one and the same.

As serenity descended upon her, and the sun's rays caressed her face, Jessie fell into a deep sleep filled with dreams of a celestial blue-eyed man urging her to remember. She dreamt of a young woman with red hair the color of nutmeg, who hovered just beyond the fringes of the dream. And then there was a steel-eyed woman looming grandly like an ancient ghost. Those gray eyes, like the man's, kept imploring her to remember.

Remember what?

When Jessie woke up, the sun had nearly set. The remnants of her latest odd dream tickled her senses so much that she knew she had to do something about it. Too many weird things were going on-from the numberless room, to that weird Madame Ceara, to her dreams and nightmares, and now, to the knowledge she seemed to have dredged up out of thin air.

Well, if there was one person who might be able to make sense of the arcane, it was Madame Ceara, and within fifteen minutes Jessie stood in front of Madame's shop, downhearted that the store was closed for the day. Of course Jessie thought, as she heaved a disappointed sigh.

Maybe it was for the best. The woman, after all, sort of creeped her out. She was a woman with some bearing, and her carriage bespoke someone who got her way, not some crazy woman who shuffled along scaring little children.

But Jessie was scared. Not of Madame Ceara, but of the bizarre things she was experiencing. She had never believed in ghosts or hauntings, or any of that psychic mumbo jumbo, but here she stood, in front of a store that catered to those who did believe all that c.r.a.p.

Here she was, wanting the psychic queen of the west coast to bail her out and explain how all of a sudden she knew what she was hearing, when she'd never even bothered to listen before. What she needed now was something that resembled an answer, and the only place she could think to go to get one was here and she- *

52 *53.

"Isn't in."

Looking over her shoulder, Jessie saw Tanner coming toward her.

"Shop's closed."

"Apparently." Didn't this kid have anything else to do other than shadow her? He wore his studded leather jacket about him like a cloak, and she was sure it was an integral part of his ident.i.ty.

"She's waiting for you down by the marina."

Jessie's eyes widened. "What do you mean, waiting?"

Shrugging, Tanner jammed his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels. "You think she told me? Not hardly. She just asked if I'd tell you she'll be there another fifteen." Tanner shrugged again. "So . . . how ya been?"

Jessie shrugged back and avoided his gaze. What was it about everyone in this town looking right in your face? "Just slaving my life away at the house on the hill."

"I'll bet. You know, if you ever wanna do something fun, you can always give me a shout."

"I don't have your number."

Tanner reached into his back pocket and pulled out a business card.

"Gus told me you guys got wired for phones yesterday."

Who the h.e.l.l was Gus?

Jessie took the card and looked at it. "We did. How come you have a business card?"

Tanner pushed his Seventies-length hair over his shoulders. "I have a business."

Jessie scanned the colorful business card in her hand.

Dirty Dog Design-When you need it now.

Tanner Dodds Webmaster Extraordinaire/Computer Tech of Outstanding Skill 623-1984.

"Don't tell me you're a computer nerd."

"Among other things. I've been called a pothead, a deadhead, a meathead, and any number of other maligning terms."

"Make any money doing it?"

52 *53.

Tanner nodded. "Enough to keep me in fine leather."

Jessie put the card in her back pocket. "Cool card. I'll keep your offer in mind, but I better jam. My folks don't know I'm gone."

"Yeah, and you don't want to keep Ceara waiting."

Just as Jessie looked to cross the street, her parents and Daniel drove right up to her. Her father rolled his window down and stared out, not at Jessie, but at Tanner. "I thought you were staying at the house," Rick said, cutting his eyes over at Jessie before a.s.saulting Tanner with the look only distrusting fathers can give.

Walking over to the car as nonchalantly as she could, Jessie forced a grin. "Just checking things out. It's taken you guys this long to find a movie?"

Daniel shoved his head out the window, oblivious to Rick and Reena's stare down of Tanner's tattered jeans and tough guy jacket.

"We ate ice cream at that place at the end of the road. That was the best ice cream I ever had!"

"Who's your friend?" Rick asked.

Before Jessie could answer, Tanner walked over and stuck his outstretched hand in Rick's window. "Tanner, sir. Tanner Dodd."

Rick took in Tanner's jacket as Reena leaned over to get a better look. "We hadn't realized you made any friends," came Reena's tight- lipped reply.

"I've met a few here and there." Jessie felt a flush of anger rise to her cheeks. They were judging Tanner, already leaning toward suspicion of what they might be doing together. She hadn't smoked dope in so long she'd actually forgotten when, but that hadn't kept them from smelling her clothes or her hair whenever she came home from any social event.

Even here in Oregon, they threw a dubious eye at her limited social activities. She had even caught Reena smelling her shirts before she did her laundry.

"Well," Reena said, "if you're through visiting, why don't you hop in and we'll give you a ride up the hill?"

Jessie shook her head. "Thanks, but I'm not through visiting."

Rick and Reena exchanged worried glances."We brought you some ice cream," Daniel piped in.

54 *55.

Jessie grinned at him. "Thanks. I'll have some with you as soon as I get home."

"Which will be when?" Reena asked.

"Half an hour, forty-five minutes, something like that." Jessie wanted to scream at them to either trust her or to leave her alone, but instead she backed away from the car and motioned for them to move on their merry way.

"It was nice meeting you, Tanner," Rick said.

Tanner stepped back up to the car reached into his back pocket and withdrew another business card. "If you need any web page design or other computer-related service for the inn, Mr. Ferguson, I'll cut you a good deal. The other B and B has WiFi, so if you need any help getting yours installed, give me a call."

Rick studied the business card long and hard before looking back up at Tanner. "You designed the card yourself, I take it?"

Tanner nodded. "Yes, sir. I can make something real catchy for the P-the Seaside Inn. A good business card is your first link to a community. The second link these days is your web page, and I can design both at a fraction of what the other guys in town do it for.

Check it out. You'll see."

Reena took the card from her husband and studied it as well.

"Where did you learn how to do this?"

"I'm a student at the University of Oregon's extension program over in Florence. They offer a couple of decent design programs."

Jessie couldn't stop smiling at Tanner and his poise in the face of danger. What a very interesting person Tanner Dodd was turning out to be.

"We appreciate the offer, Tanner, and if we get that far, we might even give you a call." To Jessie he said, "Don't stay out too long, Jess.

There's a load of lumber coming in in the morning, and we're going to need all hands on deck."

"Whew. They're sure wound tighter than a tick," Tanner offered as the Fergusons turned the corner and drove up the hill.

"You're telling me."

"They always been like that?"

54 *55.

Jessie shook her head. "Only about seventeen years."

"Well, Madame waits for no one, so you better get on it. Take it easy."

Halfway across the street, Jessie stopped and whirled back around.

"Tanner?"

"Yeah?"

"How'd she-"

He chuckled. "She used her powers, I suppose. Go on, Jess. Don't keep her waiting."

She nearly ran to the marina. Odd how comfortable she was beginning to feel in this place-odd the emotional comfort washing over her.

As she neared the tiny marina, Jessie looked around for the colorful garb worn by the gypsy-like woman, but didn't find her. "Used her powers," Jessie muttered, shaking her head slightly. What had that boring history teacher said last year? Faith is action based on belief.

"Just because we cannot see a thing, my dear, does not mean it does not exist."

Jessie whirled around, nearly tripping over a toy poodle on a pink leash. "You scared the h.e.l.l out of me!"

Madame smiled softly and nodded. "I have a tendency to do that."

Madame Ceara's grin broadened. "Now about faith-never mind the details of the picture until you can see the frame. Come. It is time for you to see both the picture and the frame." Abruptly turning, Madame Ceara walked down the wooden pier to a smallish houseboat and waited for Jessie to join her.

"You live here?"

"I live everywhere, really. This is just where I keep my things." As Madame Ceara walked down the metal gangplank to her boat, her scarves were whipping around in the wind, nearly snapping Jessie's face as she tried to keep up.

Below deck, Jessie followed Madame Ceara to a comfortable little cabin the size of an RV. Short, fat candles flickered with the sea breeze, illuminating the small area. On the small kitchen table lay several ancient books that appeared well-used. Stacks of tarot cards lined the *

56 *57.

windowsill, and bright yellow paint gave off an eerie glow that allowed the shadows to dance and leap as if independent of the light. The entire cabin was exactly as Jessie thought Madame Ceara's house would be.

"Would you care for some tea? Soda, perhaps?"

"No, thank you. I'm fine, really."

Madame Ceara sat at the small, beautifully carved oak table. "Are you, now?"

Jessie sat across from her at the table and almost started crying.

Reaching across the table, Madame Ceara patted Jessie's hand.

"Now, now, dear, there's no time for that. There's work to be done and we're on a short leash and an even shorter timer." Opening one of her ancient texts, Madame Ceara read quietly for a moment, her lips moving slightly. From where Jessie sat, it appeared as if she was reading Latin or some other foreign language.