Assessing my situation, I notice a couple of guys hanging out in front of the bar across the street. They look pretty shady, but I’m willing to bet that even my ex wouldn’t run me over in front of a couple of witnesses. Checking the street lets me know that there is no one coming from the opposite direction. I can’t hear any engine noise but hers, so I’m pretty sure there is no one else behind me. It’s time to make a break for it. Without warning, I make a quick dart into the street. Running for the space between two parked cars that will come out directly in front of the dudes in front of the bar, I chance a glance back over my shoulder. Voldemort is staring at me with her mouth hanging open, though whether she’s amused or surprised, I can’t say. Tensing to make the small jump onto the curb, a chicken wanders out from under the parked car. I have just enough time to realize that I can’t miss it before my foot slams into the stupid bird. Squawking, the chicken goes flying toward the men and I go flying face down toward the pavement. My hands spring out automatically and I land hard on both hands and one knee. The chicken slams into the leg of one guy, who swears and kicks at it. It goes screaming away, scolding me in a high pitch screech the whole way. The other guy stands over me.
“You okay?”
He reaches a hand down and I grab it, letting him haul me up. I can hear my ex laughing wildly from her car. Without looking back, I lift my arm in the air behind me and flip her off. Stupid cow. She peels off and I thank the man who helped me up. Limping a few steps tells me that nothing is broken. Stupid island. Why the hell are there farm animals everywhere? The two men are staring at my back. I can feel their eyes on me. A couple of cars pass as I’m pacing. Finally, Sam pulls up.
She skips the formalities and goes straight for the scoop. “What the hell?”
“She-who-shall-not-be-named apparently found me in the street during one of my fits.”
“Dude, it’s time to get you to a doctor.”
“I don’t think a doctor can help me.”
“Seriously, what happened?”
Mimicking her tone, I parrot back to her. “Seriously, why aren’t you back at work?”
She shakes her head and glares at me. “Captain sent me out to get some primer.”
“I was lucky you were so close.”
Instead of answering, she stares out the windshield, concentrating on the road. Lost in thought, it takes me a while to realize that we are nowhere near my house.
“Look, I just want to go home.”
Still silent, she turns onto the dirt road that leads to one of our favorite hikes. Resigned, I stare out the window at the view from the bottom of the mountain. A few minutes later, Sam parks the truck on the side of the road near the bushes. Grabbing a few bottles of water from the back, we take off into the woods and hit the trail. It’s a steep uphill climb and for a while, we just focus on walking and breathing. Sam has a harder time than I do because she is an on-again off-again smoker. By the time we reach the top of the trail, we are both sweating like crazy and Sam is doubled over with her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. Finding a nice boulder, I plop down and take a sip from a bottle of water. Sam finally straightens up and sits down beside me.
“I suppose you’re wondering why I brought you here today,” she says, grinning.
“I’m actually wondering how you don’t get fired from your job.”
“I’m the only one who knows how to do any of the things I do. So, it takes me two hours to go get a bucket of primer every once in a while. That’s better than having to hire ten guys to do my one job.”
I open my mouth to call her on her arrogance, but I know she’s right. Stalling, I take another sip of water. Sam waits patiently.
Finally, I look at her. “Okay. What do you want to know?”
“I want to know why the seizures have suddenly come back with a vengeance.”
“They’re not seizures!”
“Fine. Fits. Whatever you want to call them.”
“You’ve know about my visions for years.”
“Yes.”
“And you know my visions are accompanied by some physical issues.”
“They seem to be getting worse.”
“They are getting worse. Or at least, more frequent. I don’t know what’s going on. I had almost gotten rid of them altogether for a long time there. And then I woke up one morning feeling like I was having a heart attack. Since then, the attacks have been coming more and more frequently.”
“Well, what can we do about them?”
“According to Brad, I need to focus on them and listen to the voice.”
Sam’s sniff is all the answer I get to that.