in on purpose, so listen, when I accidentally hear your thoughts, they are jumbled; you think about a dozen things at once. This is how I hear most people. Today, when the Sullivan’s came in, they were too focused .” She pauses as Dad walks into the room, but he makes a motion for her to continue as he takes his normal seat behind his desk. Another bad sign.
“Mr. Sullivan seemed to have a one track mind. Almost exclusively he thought, ‘Will she get better, can you heal her’ or something along those lines.”
“Well, that could be because Dad is his last hope. I think if I were in his position I would only be thinking those thoughts.” I know if it were me and Mom or Dad were in danger I would have a pretty one track mind also.
Mom raises one finger asking me to wait and hear her out. She keeps it raised to emphasize her next words. “ What he was thinking doesn’t bother me at all, except for the lack of background noise. It is how he was thinking them…no emotion. No anxiety or desperation clouded his thoughts at all. If it were you, Sweetheart, I wouldn’t be able to pick up much of anything. You would be so beside yourself with worry; I would feel that.
“It was very clinical , with Mr. Sullivan. Almost like he knew he would be overheard and was saying what he thought I should hear.”
I jump to my feet, “Then what are we waiting for? We need to get out of here, NOW!”
Mom pulls me back beside her and wraps her arms around me to calm me. I notice my hands begin to heat up and that stresses me out even more. What is going on?! Dad is looking at me like I am a patient, and I wonder if he expects me to explode or something.
“Paige, we have lost the opportunity to run. If the Sullivan’s have found us, you can bet we are being monitored on some level. It feels like we are being tested, like they aren’t quite sure what we are. We need to know who or what we are dealing with.” Dad pauses just long enough to breathe deeply. “I hate that our worst fears are being validated.”
We are all silent as we collect our thoughts. I find my mind wandering again to the curls in John’s hair. What the crap! I have really lost it. I have to remember, chances are good, he is the enemy. “What about Mrs. Sullivan? What did you hear from her?” I ask Mom. John seems genuinely concerned about his mother. He can’t be that good of an actor, can he?
“Her thoughts don’t bother me near as much. They were riddled with desperation and fear, much what you would expect from a dying woman.” I can tell Mom must have liked Mrs. Sullivan a little bit because she couldn’t keep the sympathy out of her voice.
“But what was she thinking,” I persist.
“Mostly, ‘Help us’ or some variation. She seemed very sincere.”
I immediately wonder who the “us” is. Clearly, she needs help. But is she worried for John, for her husband? What kind of help do they need? Just medical?
“Did you touch her, Dad”
“Sweetheart, you know I can’t. We can’t make it that easy for them.” He pauses for a moment, “But I don’t think that went unnoticed. I tried to disguise my intent not to shake hands by immediately going to the sink and washing mine and then putting gloves on, but…” He shakes his head, indicating his skepticism.
“What do we do now?” I ask, dreading the answer. I am so confused it is ridiculous. I want to like John, I want to hate him. I want my life to go back to how it was two days ago, but being interested in someone has helped me understand that I was just treading water, keeping everyone away and waiting for something awful to happen. I don’t want to leave, especially not Lexi, but I don’t want to stay if it means endangering those I love. At least I am still a kid and Mom and Dad have to make the decisions. I’ve never been less equipped to make huge decisions.
I know Mom and Dad are talking to each other, Dad can’t hide the vacant look in his eyes as well as Mom can,
“Mr. Sullivan seemed to have a one track mind. Almost exclusively he thought, ‘Will she get better, can you heal her’ or something along those lines.”
“Well, that could be because Dad is his last hope. I think if I were in his position I would only be thinking those thoughts.” I know if it were me and Mom or Dad were in danger I would have a pretty one track mind also.
Mom raises one finger asking me to wait and hear her out. She keeps it raised to emphasize her next words. “ What he was thinking doesn’t bother me at all, except for the lack of background noise. It is how he was thinking them…no emotion. No anxiety or desperation clouded his thoughts at all. If it were you, Sweetheart, I wouldn’t be able to pick up much of anything. You would be so beside yourself with worry; I would feel that.
“It was very clinical , with Mr. Sullivan. Almost like he knew he would be overheard and was saying what he thought I should hear.”
I jump to my feet, “Then what are we waiting for? We need to get out of here, NOW!”
Mom pulls me back beside her and wraps her arms around me to calm me. I notice my hands begin to heat up and that stresses me out even more. What is going on?! Dad is looking at me like I am a patient, and I wonder if he expects me to explode or something.
“Paige, we have lost the opportunity to run. If the Sullivan’s have found us, you can bet we are being monitored on some level. It feels like we are being tested, like they aren’t quite sure what we are. We need to know who or what we are dealing with.” Dad pauses just long enough to breathe deeply. “I hate that our worst fears are being validated.”
We are all silent as we collect our thoughts. I find my mind wandering again to the curls in John’s hair. What the crap! I have really lost it. I have to remember, chances are good, he is the enemy. “What about Mrs. Sullivan? What did you hear from her?” I ask Mom. John seems genuinely concerned about his mother. He can’t be that good of an actor, can he?
“Her thoughts don’t bother me near as much. They were riddled with desperation and fear, much what you would expect from a dying woman.” I can tell Mom must have liked Mrs. Sullivan a little bit because she couldn’t keep the sympathy out of her voice.
“But what was she thinking,” I persist.
“Mostly, ‘Help us’ or some variation. She seemed very sincere.”
I immediately wonder who the “us” is. Clearly, she needs help. But is she worried for John, for her husband? What kind of help do they need? Just medical?
“Did you touch her, Dad”
“Sweetheart, you know I can’t. We can’t make it that easy for them.” He pauses for a moment, “But I don’t think that went unnoticed. I tried to disguise my intent not to shake hands by immediately going to the sink and washing mine and then putting gloves on, but…” He shakes his head, indicating his skepticism.
“What do we do now?” I ask, dreading the answer. I am so confused it is ridiculous. I want to like John, I want to hate him. I want my life to go back to how it was two days ago, but being interested in someone has helped me understand that I was just treading water, keeping everyone away and waiting for something awful to happen. I don’t want to leave, especially not Lexi, but I don’t want to stay if it means endangering those I love. At least I am still a kid and Mom and Dad have to make the decisions. I’ve never been less equipped to make huge decisions.
I know Mom and Dad are talking to each other, Dad can’t hide the vacant look in his eyes as well as Mom can,
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