Painted Blind - Part 3
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Part 3

"You sprayed air freshener outside?"

"No, I... spilled it... on my backpack."

She waited for me to say more. When I didn't, she relented. "Well, I'm going to grab lunch. You want anything?"

I shook my head.

Savannah gave me a strange look, then held up her hands. "Okay, I'm leaving. You can call him back."

When she was gone, an awkward silence fell between Erik and me. He was sitting near enough to make the skin on my arm tingle. If I moved even slightly, I might brush against him, a prospect which thrilled and terrified me. His scent jumbled my thoughts. When I was finally able to speak, my words came out accusing. "You've been to my school before."

Antic.i.p.ating my next question, he answered, "Looking for you."

"And the carnival?"

"The same."

My irritation grew. "Are you stalking me?"

He leaned closer. His breath warmed my ear as he whispered, "Do I frighten you?"

My response was completely unexpected. My eyes fell closed, and my head dipped toward the sound.

He jerked away. "Maybe we should get out of here before you give me away."

I snapped myself out of his spell, shocked at my own reaction. I should have felt panic rise in my chest. Where were the sweaty palms and the chest pains? He was a total stranger. And he was invisible. "I can't...I'm not ...going anywhere with you."

He stood up. I heard his feet shuffle, felt him towering over me. "I understand." Then his footsteps moved away.

It was the right thing to do-letting him go. But, what if he never came back? "Wait."

I stood and dug my car keys out of my pocket. This went against everything my dad taught me. I shouldn't go off alone with this guy, but he'd saved me from a mob and paid Mr. Darling back for last night. I could trust him enough to go somewhere safe and talk. "There's a trail by the river," I murmured as I crossed the parking lot. There were always joggers on that trail. I could scream if he tried to hurt me. "I'll meet you..." The door of my Subaru swung open, seemingly on its own.

"At the gazebo," he finished. The door closed after I dropped into the driver's seat.

I started the car and backed slowly out of the parking s.p.a.ce, then slammed on the brakes. In my rearview mirror, I saw a streak of black. The bike zipped around me. Erik wore the same helmet and black leather jacket. He disappeared before I pulled onto Main Street.

There were three cars in the parking lot at the trailhead. I pulled into a slot and turned off the engine. A couple of moms with strollers chatted by the gazebo. I walked down the trail wondering how I was going to find Erik, but a moment later he fell into step beside me. His arm brushed against mine and made me jump.

"You seem to know your way," I said. "Are you from around here?"

"Not exactly."

I veered off the trail and I sat on a dry log. The sunlight reflected off the water in blinding glory. The river's steady rush soothed me, which I needed around Erik. "If you're some kind of alien," I said, "I'm not in the mood to be abducted."

He chuckled that irresistible laugh again. "You don't want to be the bride of some little green man with pointy ears?"

I knew he wasn't little. The green part, I wasn't sure about. "Why can't I see you?"

"Because I don't want you to." His voice was matter-of-fact, like there was no use pushing that point.

I stretched my legs. "You can't imagine the number of times I've wanted to be invisible. How do you do it?"

"It's sort of a mental capacity." Whatever that meant. He was good at being evasive. Maybe he saw the frustration in my face, because he relented and answered. "Our worlds inhabit the same s.p.a.ce, but in different realms. We have the ability to block ourselves from your sight when we're in your realm."

"You're not invisible in your world?"

"No, and neither are you. Your kind doesn't posses the veiling power."

"Some sort of magic?" Here we were discussing the impossible like it was yesterday's lunch menu.

"More like physics than magic. There are basic laws of veiling. Once you understand the laws, it all makes perfect sense."

"Sure it does," I scoffed.

"Whatever I'm touching or whatever is touching me when I veil, veils with me. That's why you don't see my clothes wandering around without a body in them. That's why you became invisible at the carnival. I was veiled in the fortune-teller's booth, but I had to unveil in order to hide you. To the crowd I would have appeared momentarily and then disappeared. Luckily, they were all looking at you, and no one noticed me."

"Is Erik really your name?"

"It's similar to my name, and it's common in your language."

My mind was doing a weak calculation of the things I knew about him and the things I didn't. First, I didn't know what he looked like. The name he'd given me was false. He wasn't from my world and had the power to hide from my kind at will. But there was one sliver of instinctive knowledge that overpowered all the rest. I liked him. He should have scared me, but he didn't, and I wasn't sure why. "How did you get into my world?"

"We have portals."

"Like the Stargate?" I teased.

"Sort of like that, without the extraterrestrial metal and the weird watery doorway."

I was taken aback that he perfectly understood the reference. "And you're...human?"

"We live longer," he explained. "When I was a child, your world was very different. We used to interact with your people regularly, but they thought we'd enslave them, so they attacked our people, and we closed the portals."

"But you reopened it? The portal, I mean."

The log rocked as he stood. "Let's walk."

It felt like walking alone when he didn't speak. We wandered awhile, and I lost track of him until he spoke again. Then I was surprised by how near he was. Erik still had not answered the most important question. It took half a mile for me to get the courage to ask, "Why were you looking for me?"

He drew some branches aside so I didn't have to duck under them. "The billboard. When I saw you at the school, you weren't anything like I'd imagined. You intrigued me, so I followed you to the carnival."

I stopped in the trail and faced his voice. "The fortune-teller knew you were there. She could see you."

"She was one of us but chose to live in your world."

I remembered her face, the beautiful eyes and the golden skin tone. "Does that happen often?"

He nudged me forward on the path. "No, she was probably the first."

We reached the bridge, where the paved trail abruptly changed into dirt single-track that split in two directions. One trail went up to the sidewalk and across the bridge. The other went under the bridge among the boulders. I hesitated, then turned back. By now school was out, and I shouldn't linger here with him as dusk fell. I tried to walk slowly, but too soon I was standing by the gazebo looking at my lone car in the parking lot. Part of me wished he was a normal guy I could invite over to meet my dad. Knowing my dad, though, it was probably better if they didn't meet. Mostly I wondered why he wouldn't let me see him. "Where's your motorcycle?" I asked.

"In front of your car."

"But I don't..."

"See it?" he teased.

Already I'd forgotten the first law of veiling. "Whatever you were touching disappeared with you."

The gravel crunched under our feet as we crossed the parking lot. "May I visit you again?" he asked. As soon as I unlocked my car, he brushed my hand out of the way, so he could open the door.

"I'd like that," I admitted.

"Soon, then." He closed the door.

I started the engine and watched the bushes. Suddenly he appeared, already wearing the black helmet and straddling the motorcycle. He revved the engine, nodded a good-bye and pulled away.

It couldn't be soon enough.

Chapter 5.

It was fully dark by the time I got home. I grinned stupidly to myself over a date with a guy I couldn't see and failed to notice the extra cars on the block until I was on the sidewalk. Suddenly people ran at me calling me Venus. Two news cameras closed in. I spun around and was blinded by a flash. The photographer snapped three more pictures as I shielded my eyes.

From the porch I heard a sharp whistle and, "Get away from my daughter!" I bolted toward the sound. The next thing I knew, Dad's strong arms pulled me through the doorway and turned the lock behind us. "What was that?" he demanded.

I shook my head. "What do they want?"

The doorbell rang wildly. A guy with a microphone stood on the porch with a cameraman behind. He jiggled the b.u.t.ton again.

"I'm calling Marty." Dad pulled the phone from his pocket and scrolled through the numbers.

Within ten minutes, a Ford pickup pulled into our driveway with the blue and reds flashing. Police Chief Marty DeWitt was the quarterback of my dad's high school football team. They still went elk hunting together every fall. Marty was six feet four inches tall and had packed on seventy pounds since his football days. He was out of uniform, but had his badge hanging from his jeans pocket and wore a shoulder holster over a gray T-shirt. Even without the gun, he was a presence no one took lightly.

He gathered the cameras and crews for a short meeting, which Dad and I watched through a crack in the office curtains. Then Marty came into the house.

"I can't make them leave," he told Dad. "As long as they stay off your property, they can be on the public street, but they can't camp there. I'll come back in the morning. If they are still here, I'll ticket them."

"That's it?"

Chief DeWitt held up his hands. "They have rights, too."

"Oh, come on." Dad shook his head, disgusted.

Marty's face didn't change. "Tomorrow's Sat.u.r.day. Take a day off, Ron. Watch some football. They'll get tired of hanging around, and they'll leave." He glanced at me before continuing, "The Women's Club is pet.i.tioning to have the billboard removed," he said, "on the grounds it's p.o.r.nographic."

"Amen to that," Dad muttered.

I made a quiet exit up the stairs. I didn't turn on any lights, as I closed the blinds then drew the curtains over them. It didn't make me feel better. Those reporters were violating our s.p.a.ce, snapping photos of our house, telling everyone in the world who I was and where I lived. Now more than ever I envied Erik's ability to be invisible.

When my cell phone rang, I a.s.sumed it was Savannah, so I answered.

"Psyche, you've got to come back," Blair said. "My phone is ringing off the hook with booking agents who want Venus."

"I'm in school," I said flatly.

"You don't understand. I'm getting offers over fifty thousand a session."

"Tell them I'm booked until June." I wasn't willing to give up my last year at home, and things would be worse for me in a city. Around here a barn fire got more press than fashion. Once the hype from the billboard quieted, people would move on. At least, I hoped they would.

"Don't you have a winter break?" Blair asked.

"Yeah, two weeks in December, but..."

"Fine, I'll book you between Christmas and New Year's. At least give me a week."

"I have to ask my dad," I protested.

Blair would not be dissuaded. "I'll book two first-cla.s.s tickets. Make sure he understands the kind of money you will be making. In the meantime, do not take any jobs behind my back. Are we clear?"

"Perfectly." I wandered into Dad's room, which faced the street.

"I'll get you an apartment in Switzerland. You may need it if they find you."

"If who finds me?"

"The paparazzi. Then your days as a normal high school student are over."

I peeked between the slats in the blinds. "You make it sound like I'm dodging a killer."

"Remember Princess Di, sweetheart. I'm out to protect you at all costs." She hung up.

I stabbed the end b.u.t.ton, irritated and more scared than I wanted to admit. Much as Blair wanted to protect me, she was also out to make a fortune off me. That fame which promised misery for me was what her business thrived on.

Dad took Marty's advice and stayed home from work the next day, though he was probably up early making phone calls. By nine when I wandered downstairs only half awake, he was showered, shaved, sipping coffee and reading the sports page. On this trait we differed greatly. Dad was a morning person. I was not.

"Hot water on the stove," he said as I pa.s.sed.

After mixing a cup of hot chocolate, I collapsed into a chair at the bar. "Are they gone?"

"Nope." He closed the paper and moved into the kitchen, where he began frying bacon and eggs.

I dropped bread into the toaster. "Did Marty ticket them?"