If I tried to talk to Gideon while my mom was there, she’d only tell me to leave him be and that he needed his rest. And I knew she was right, but I couldn’t shake the image of Seth, the darkness of his blood covering him. I had to find out what happened.
Slowly, I climbed up the steps of Gideon’s trailer. The only light came from the morning sun streaming in through his dusty curtains. He sat hunched over the table with one hand buried in his black hair, still in his bloodied clothes. A half-empty glass sat beside a bottle of whisky next to his hand.
I pushed open the screen door without knocking, and Gideon lifted his head to look back at me. Outside, he’d kept his eyes down, but now he was looking right at me so I could see them—how the light blue had gone so dark, they were almost black.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
He looked away, but it was too late. “It’s nothing.”
“Gideon, I saw it in your eyes, and I saw Seth before he was taken to the hospital.” I stepped closer to him. “What happened?”
“He couldn’t speak,” Gideon said finally. “But I read his mind.”
“And?” I pressed when he didn’t go on.
“It was mostly pain, blurred images. But whatever hurt him, it wasn’t human.”
My heart dropped, even though I’d known it all along. Having my fears confirmed didn’t make me feel any better, though.
“What was it?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” Gideon paused to take a long drink from his glass. “It was all claws and fangs and glowing eyes. But there was nothing clear. When I see someone’s thoughts, it’s not like a video camera replaying a movie. It’s all filtered through that person’s emotions and prejudices.”
He looked back at me then. “So, it’s what Seth perceived, not necessarily what it actually was.”
“So what does that mean?” I asked.
He sighed. “It means that it could’ve been anything that attacked Seth.”
The screen door creaked behind me, making me jump, and Mom brushed past me, her deck of tarot cards in her hand. She didn’t look at me, but she didn’t tell me to leave either, so I decided to stay.
“Are you okay?” Mom asked, gently touching Gideon’s forehead, as if he had the flu instead of the ability to read people’s minds and see their most horrific memories.
“I’m all right.” He stood up rather abruptly. “I should get changed before we do the reading.”
Mom nodded and watched Gideon until he disappeared into his bedroom at the far end of the trailer. Then she took a fortifying breath and sat down at the table. With the cards in her hands, she began to shuffle them slowly, but her gaze rested on me.
“How are you doing, qamari?”
I shrugged, unsure of how to answer. “I’m okay.”
“I’m sorry about last night,” Mom said, referring to her outburst before everything had happened with Seth. Her cheeks reddened slightly with shame, and she lowered her eyes so her dark lashes rested on her cheeks.
“It’s okay.” I tried to ease her worries. “I understand.”
“It’s not okay, Mara,” she said harshly, and shook her head, then she looked back up at me. “But I’ll do better. I promise you. Things will get better.”
I forced a smile. “I know.”
“And I’m sorry that you found Seth like you did this morning.” She set the cards aside. “I know the two of you were friends.”
Seth had been traveling with us for five years now, so we’d practically grown up together. Two summers ago, we’d briefly tried our hand at dating and exchanged a few kisses, but it felt wrong to me, like dating my brother. But Seth had always been kind to me, and quick to help anyone who needed it.
I’d often thought of him as a gentle giant, and I could still remember the strength of his arms when he had pulled me to him for a kiss. He could’ve crushed me if he’d wanted to, but I’d never felt anything but safe with him.
And something had attacked him, something strong enough to take him down and leave him so weak he could barely squeeze my hand.
“All right,” Gideon said as he came back, pulling me from my thoughts. “Shall we do the reading, then?”
He sat down across from my mom, and I felt weird just standing and gawking at them, so I sat down in the chair beside my mom. I was careful to be as quiet as possible, because if I proved to be a distraction, I knew they would send me away.
“It’s been so long since I’ve done a reading for you,” Mom mused as she handed Gideon the deck. Whenever she did readings, she always made sure her clients handled them first. She said they needed to get a feel for the cards, and the cards needed to get a feel for them.
“It has been,” Gideon admitted.
Years ago, before the readings had begun taking their toll on my mother, she would do readings for him often, getting a sense of where we should go and helping make decisions for the carnival. But once Gideon saw how badly they affected her, he’d stopped.
“What kind of spread did you have in mind?” Mom asked as he shuffled the cards.
“Just a simple three-card one.”
“Do you know what you want to ask?” Mom asked.
He nodded. “I have a question in mind.”