Mind Games

“I can’t even picture the house in Fredericksburg anymore.”

Thea glanced at Rem, and thought: I can.

She went back sometimes, in dreams, to see them as they’d been. Just as she went back to the prison to look at the half life Riggs led.

“I can’t really remember it.”

“You remember them,” Lucy told him. “That’s what matters. And look at you, baseball star already and making the honor roll every semester in your sophomore year. And you, going off to college to study what I couldn’t understand if I lived to be a thousand. I swear I don’t know how I’m going to run the online part of the business you talked me into starting without you right here.”

“I’ve got you covered, Grammie.”

“You’d better, Rem.”

“You’re more computer literate than you’ll admit,” Thea told her. “And you can call or text or FaceTime me if you need help. I’ll be home for Thanksgiving and Christmas and…”

Thea pressed a hand to her belly.

“Don’t you start getting nervous. You’re going to shine. Both of you, the two Waylon and Kyra’ve given me. And if Caleb ever decides to give me more, they’ll shine, too.”

Thea dreamed of the house in Virginia that night. And though the house stood empty, she heard her mother’s voice, her father’s laugh. Distant, distant as if smothered by the shadows.

Then it flooded back, all flooded back as she stood outside the house, not empty, no, not empty, behind Riggs.

She could walk in behind him, see it all again. Hear it, feel it.

Instead, she turned away, let herself drift, let her mind travel. Let her gift take her to his cell.

He slept, but fitful, jerking on his cot, muttering in his sleep.

He wore his hair short now, and his face was as pale as the moon. Still thin, she noted, but getting some flab around the middle. Soft in the middle, she thought, but hard in the face. He looked older than his twenty-three years.

He has a toothache, she realized, but he’s afraid to say, afraid of the dentist. He scored some pills—opioids—but they’ve worn off, and that tooth’s throbbing.

“Wake up, Ray.”

His eyes flashed open on a moan. Then their eyes met.

“Remember me?”

“Little bitch.” On a wince, he pressed a hand to his right jaw. “Get the fuck out of here. I’ll kill you.”

“Yeah, you remember me. They’re going to yank that tooth. It’s going to hurt like a bitch until they do. And it’ll hurt like a bitch for days after.”

He rolled to sitting. “Fuck you. Get out of my head.”

“You don’t look so good. Don’t smell so good either. I can smell that tooth rotting in your head. Anyway, I’m just checking in to say goodbye. I won’t be back. I’ve got a life to live.”

“I’m gonna kill you slow.” Still cradling his jaw, he pushed at her, pushed what he wanted to do against her mind.

She didn’t flinch.

“Keep dreaming, Ray. Oh, your nose is bleeding.”

She willed herself awake to stare up at the ceiling of her bedroom. Her heart didn’t pound; her head didn’t ache.

Rising, she rehung the charm bag she’d taken down before she’d gone to bed. She’d wanted this one last time.

She said the words, repeated them three times, then got back into bed.