Kids These Days

Chapter 18: Becca

The next morning, over a breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast, Finn tells me about tarot cards.

"I thought it was a dead giveaway," Finn says between gulps of orange juice. To his right, Ronan skims the morning news, his coffee cooling on the table. I can't help but notice that Ronan's black hair is a tangled mess, presumably from the lack of silk pillowcases in Floyd's guest rooms. Finn also looks worse for the wear; judging by his bleary eyes and constant yawning, he didn't get much sleep last night. "At Lightlake, you told me that real psychics don't need tarot cards to see the future. Leigh knew a bit about the occult, and I thought if I could tap into her knowledge, it would signal that I wasn't... present."

"Possessed," Ronan murmurs, marking the newspaper with his red ballpoint pen. (I have so many questions. Does he carry a pen around everywhere? Are they all red? Is this a New Yorker quirk? He looks like an old man filling out the crossword.)

"Present," Finn repeats.

Ronan smirks. "I didn't realize we were taking attendance."

Finn glares at him over his orange juice, which is so pulpy I can only assume it's homemade. "What are you doing?"

"Reading the news."

"Why?"

Ronan flips the page and underlines something with his pen. I half-expect him to start reading out stock prices. "Educational purposes."

"Really?"

"No, I'm just a big fan of Garfield."

Finn sighs and turns away. "I assume you'll be more helpful when you're caffeinated..." His words dissolve into a yawn. I can still see the worry lines creasing his forehead — lines that appeared during dinner when Sarah and her fiance called to say their movie ran late (it was a matinee) and they wanted to spend an extra night at the motel. Floyd did an admirable job of keeping things under control, but tensions still simmered in the family. Halfway through dinner, Ronan faked a migraine and left. I didn't blame him.

I don't know what compelled me to stay.

"I'm confused," I say, wiping a bead of sweat from my brow. Even under the shaded pergola, the desert sun is unbearably hot, beating down on us from a cloudless sky. I prop my sandals on a nearby chair, trying not to touch the sizzling patio stones. "Why did you bring up the High Priestess? Was it supposed to be a hint? A warning?"

"Leigh associates her sister with that tarot card. She didn't explain why. I only brought it up because I knew it would irritate you."

"So... you tried to convince me you were possessed, by pissing me off?"

"Well, when you put it like that, it sounds ridiculous." Finn jabs his fork into a mound of scrambled eggs, then takes a bite and frowns. "Hmm. Needs more pepper."

"Let's stay focused. You mentioned the Santa Ana winds. Was that also a warning? Are the winds connected to Rachel? Maybe it's a portent."

"What's a portent?"

"It's like a harbinger," Ronan says. "Or an omen."

I squint at him. "Are you actually doing the crossword puzzle?"

"That's none of your business. Now, what's a six-letter Hitchcock film?"

"Psycho, duh," I say. Ronan mutters something under his breath. I turn back to Finn. "A portent is a sign that something bad is going to happen. Do think that's what Leigh meant? Could we use the winds to predict Rachel's return?"

"No, I don't think so. Leigh said that Rachel was out of touch with nature. Her power is more... I can't think of the correct word. Uncanny? Manufactured? Rachel wouldn't have a connection with the winds. Maybe Leigh was warning us about something else."