Wish I May, Wish I Might

Chapter 18

"Annabelle!" I yelled, running through the dirt streets of Valleytown. My heart was still beating quickly and my pulse thudded in my neck. Annie was running with me, which helped to make it feel a little less like when I was chasing the shadow the night before. I still felt like I was being watched though, and there was a strange bitter taste in my mouth. "Belle!"

"Yeah?" I heard her respond, and I followed. She was behind the general store, kneeling on a foam pad on the ground, a small spade in her hand.

"What are you doing?" I asked, completely forgetting for a second why I had been looking for her.

She rolled her eyes. "What does it look like? I'm gardening."

I was lost for words for a second. "Why?"

"Because wish food sucks and I actually like gardening. You're not the only one who can have a stupid old-lady hobby, you know."

"Oh," I said, then remembered why I was here. "Um, I have something to show you."

I think the urgency in my voice got her attention, and she schooled her expression into something more serious. "What's wrong?"

I gingerly held out my arms, showing the display of bruises across them. I had thought it through over and over again on the run over. The bruises were new. They came from whatever had grabbed me last night. I knew they were the exact same ones Tucker had given me before I had killed him.

"Where did those come from?" she asked, reaching out to gently brush the pads of her fingertips over them.

I pulled my arms back in and pressed them to my chest. "I don't know if you're gonna believe me. It's kind of... insane."

"Try me."

So I told her what happened the night before, starting from when I got to the old saloon and to when I heard her yelling for me. Annabelle listened without interrupting and kept her expression calm. When I finished, she absentmindedly twisted the metal spade in the dirt.

"That is kinda insane," she agreed, and I twisted my hands nervously.

"But I'm not making it up, I swear," I said. "I know you think I was imagining everything else weird that's been going on with me, like that night when I was driving and the hotel shower thing and what happened in that old warehouse but this was something that really happened. This is proof," I said, showing my wrists in front of me again.

"I know," Annabelle sighed. "But what does it mean?"

I leaned against the crumbling brick wall of the general store. "I don't know. I'm open to suggestions, though."

Annabelle slowly stood and brushed some dust from her pants. "There's something I need to tell you."

A chill went down my spine. "What?"

Annabelle avoided my gaze.

"Annabelle, what do you need to tell me?!" I asked, much more urgently. The bitter taste in my mouth was now added to with an anxious dryness.

"Let's go somewhere else," she said. "The saloon. I could use a drink while telling you this anyway."

We didn't say anything as we walked to the old building where I had been the night before, and our wishes for our own individual drinks were quiet and fast. I barely sipped my lemonade as I watched Annabelle swirl her own strange, blue drink.

"So you know these weird things you've been hearing and seeing?" she asked.

"Yeah?"

She took a deep breath and tapped the frosted glass on the table in front of her. "I think I've been having them too."