Tommy Nightmare(8)

“Oh, no,” Esmeralda said. “My mother will kill me.”

Tommy stared at the frightened girl. He didn’t want to cause her problems.

“I don’t have much time,” he said. He closed the trunk as quietly as he could and propped the duffle bag against it. He unzipped it part of the way, then he reached inside.

“This is for you,” he whispered. He gave her one of the thousand-dollar bundles.

She gaped at it.

“Put it in your purse!” he said. “Don’t tell your mother until you’re a long way from here. Don’t give any money to the Tanners. Okay?”

“Oh…I don’t…” She continued gaping at the money.

Tommy grabbed her arm and shook her. “Do what I say!”

“Yes!” She crammed the money into her beaded purse and zipped it shut. “Sorry. Don’t hurt me please.”

“I wouldn’t hurt you,” he said. He could feel her trembling, but he didn’t want to let go of her arm. She was warm. She almost seemed to glow.

“What are you?” she whispered.

“What are you?” he asked. “You can speak with the dead?”

“Sometimes,” she said. “Mostly I listen. But you are like a…a….”

“A nightmare,” he whispered. Tommy needed to run, but he couldn’t quite let her go yet. She was different, in the same way that he was different. He felt like if he touched her long enough, he would understand.

Then he thought of Mrs. Tanner, on her way back any second.

And he did something that he later wouldn’t believe he had the courage to do. He kissed Esmeralda, the mysterious Latin girl with the supernatural power, right on the lips. Then slipped the gold Indian-head coin into her hand.

She stared at it.

“That’s for you,” he whispered. “I love you.”

Then he ran out of the barn and away across the pasture, towards the distant, flat horizon. He planned to never see the Tanners, or any other foster family, ever again.

He looked back over his shoulder and saw the girl gaping after him. He waved at her, then lowered his head and ran faster.





Chapter Four


The television in Bent River sat behind a shield of durable plastic in case of riots. Located in a crook of the Mississippi River, just before the State of Louisiana turned into the State of Mississippi, Bent River housed a mix of medium and high security prisoners. Tommy lived in a cellblock in the East Yard, along with a few hundred other violent offenders like himself.

Tommy sat on the hard bench at rec time, watching the TV. Next to him sat Doyle Vinner, one count of arson and two of homicide. Vinner had robbed and murdered an elderly couple and burned their house to the ground. He'd taken a shine to Tommy soon after Tommy arrived. Though Vinner was in his forties, probably a quarter-century older than Tommy, he followed Tommy like a duckling in awe of its mother.

The TV flipped from a baseball game to a 24-hour news channel.

“Teen pregnancy!” a fat, balding man shouted on the screen. “A shocking story about how the libs are wrecking our morals. Again. I’m Chuck O’Flannery, and this is the O' Flannery Overview Hour. Tonight’s top story of teen girls and sex will turn your stomach! Keep watching the Overview.” The promo ended, and cut to a commercial for Axe body spray.

Boos sounded from all the black prisoners.

“Shut your booing,” yelled a big redneck named Patrick Headon, better known as Possum. A swastika was tattooed on the side of his shaved head. He sat with his hefty white-power cohorts.

Over in the guard station, behind another clear wall, the two guards smirked.

On TV, the commercials ended, and the O’Flannery Overview Hour continued.

“Welcome back to The O’Flannery Overview Hour,” he said. “My special guest is Ashleigh Goodling of Fallen Oak, South Carolina, population nine thousand. Thanks for coming today, Ashleigh.”

“Thank you for having me, sir.”

A wider camera angle revealed a very pretty girl with blond hair and hypnotic gray eyes. Tommy sat up. Her eyes looked just like his, a rare trait. For a moment, Tommy wondered if they were related—he knew nothing about his birth parents.

“I don't wanna watch this,” Vinner grumbled.

“Then get back to your room,” Tommy said. Vinner stayed.

“We hope you enjoy your visit,” Chuck O’Flannery said to the girl. “Now, for the Overviewers at home, give us a little background on this teen abstinence story.”

“Gosh,” the girl said. “Well, teen pregnancy is such a major problem, even in little towns like mine. Our group decided to promote the only moral choice, abstinence, at our school...”