The Nine Lives of Felicia Miller (31 page)

“Felicia! Yo, Felicia!” Felicia didn’t look back as Nelson darted after her, drawn like a moth to a flame. “Hold up,” he intoned, trying to sound casual.

Felicia ignored him. He noticed her earpods and realized she probably couldn’t hear him. “Hey! Felicia!” he spoke louder and grabbed her gently by the shoulder.

Felicia spun on her heels and struck at his face with her fingernails. Nelson cried out and dropped his schoolbooks. Kids around him gasped as they saw ruddy clawmarks puff up on his forehead, trailing down past his eye to his cheek.  The pink scratches quickly turned crimson as thin beads of blood oozed from the wounds. Luckily for Nelson, Felicia had spared his eyeball. “You bitch!” he yelped.

Felicia smiled cruelly, then turned and headed for the exit at the end of the hall. But she wasn’t fleeing in fear or regret. She pranced almost merrily. She paused outside on the steps and drew in a deep refreshing breath, then turned and looked back through a window.

Nelson was standing where she’d left him, talking to a school security officer. He pointed toward the exit. The guard nodded and headed down the hallway in her direction.

Felicia took off running, leaping gaily across the school lawn. Heading for the woods. By the time the security guard stepped outside she was gone.

359

Felicia’s heart lit up as she emerged from the woods and saw a thin plume of smoke rising from Granny’s chimney. Filled with excitement she raced across the yard and knocked briskly on the door.

When it opened her heart skipped a beat. Sheriff Sutter stared down at her, a look of concern and confusion on his face.

“Hello, Felicia.”

“Sheriff. I came to check on Granny. Is she…?”

“Granny’s right here. Safe and sound.” He stepped aside to let her enter.

Felicia found Granny sitting in her rocker, calmly knitting. As if nothing out of the ordinary had interrupted her life.

Felicia ran over and hugged her. “Oh, Granny. Thank God you’re alright. I was so worried about you. Where have you been?”

“There, there, girl,” the old woman chuckled. “I don’t know what all this fuss is about.”

“It’s like I told you,” the Sheriff said. “Granny was just visiting relatives.”

“And Elmo?” Felicia whispered to Granny.

“I expect he’ll be back soon,” Granny smiled calmly. “No need to worry about him.”

“You’re supposed to be in school, Felicia.” The Sheriff’s tone was vaguely threatening. “But I’m glad you’re here. It’ll save your folks a trip to my office. We can talk on the way back to town.”

Felicia glanced at Granny for a cue.

“Go on, dear,” the old woman said blithely. “Mustn’t keep the Sheriff waiting.”

***

Felicia gazed out the passenger window of the Sheriff’s SUV, thinking how beautiful the woods looked in the afternoon sun, with the jade green tones of the new season’s growth contrasted against the deep emerald foliage of the evergreens. She wished she could jump from the vehicle and run off into the woods. But it was time to do a little damage control.

“So what’s this I hear about you fooling around with jimsonweed?” the Sheriff probed softly. “Is that something the old woman put you up to? It’s some kind of witch’s herb, isn’t it?”

The Sheriff had done some research over the weekend. Visions of Medieval woodcuts stuck in his head. Images of naked old crones, their wrinkles exaggerated in crudely carved lines of black ink. Riding broomsticks. Dancing with cloven-hoofed demons around a boiling cauldron.
A cauldron like the one in Granny’s cabin.

“Nobody put me up to anything. It was just a stupid mistake. All my own idea.”

The Sheriff glanced over at her. There was something about Felicia that was different. Something that struck a chord in his steely heart.

When he put on his badge each morning it was like donning a suit of armor. Nothing got through that armor to sway his emotions. He was immune to sympathy. He’d ticketed senior citizens on fixed incomes and pregnant single mothers struggling to make ends meet. Never had an ounce of hesitation or regret. Facts were facts. The law was cold. And he was the law.

But for some reason he felt simpatico with this teenage girl. Strangely, it was the same kind of esteem he’d felt for his father and granddad. An admission of—and concession to—their personal power. A recognition that they were innately superior. That they deserved more respect than the average citizen. That they were elevated by destiny to a higher standing in life.

Part of this high regard stemmed from the obvious talents Felicia had exhibited in the school shows, and the taboo attraction inspired by her natural beauty and youth.

But it went beyond that. Far beyond that. Something about this graceful willow of a girl inspired a modicum of fear in the Sheriff. Fear was an emotion he rarely felt, beyond the heat of an occasional precarious moment on the job. But it was one he understood well. One he felt compelled to respect.

“I don’t understand what a healthy… attractive… young lady… I hope you don’t mind me being honest… like you is doing spending her time out here in the woods with an old woman who by all accounts is something of an oddball... to say the least.”

Felicia shrugged blankly. Knowing there was no answer that could possibly satisfy him.

“Can you at least try to enlighten me?” he prodded. “I may wear a badge, but I’m not a thoughtless brute. I’m concerned about you. A girl with your bright prospects.”

“It’s no big mystery. I just feel sorry for Granny. Everyone in town seems to hate her. And I hate all the gossip in this town. It’s the worst thing about living here. Just about.”

Just about?
the Sheriff thought. But he didn’t dare ask her to elaborate. He was afraid to. Afraid that her answer might include his son’s name. In fact, he was certain it would.

“Felicia, I spoke to your teachers and the school principal. I know you’re a good student. You’re talented. You can sing. You can dance. I’ve seen you in those shows. You have a very bright future ahead of you.”

Felicia glanced at him sideways. Surprised that he wasn’t lambasting her or pulling some kind of power trip. Amazed that the same person who donated sperm to the creation of the town monster Wally could seem so sensitive and rational and… gentle.

“I had dreams of my own when I was your age,” he said softly.

“What kind of dreams?” Felicia asked.

“It’s not important. Nothing ever came of my dreams. I let myself be sidetracked. It’s easy when you’re young. You put your faith in folks who seem older and wiser. But sometimes those people don’t have your best interests at heart.  Sometimes they’re blinded by their own weaknesses. They’ll take you down the same dark paths they followed. Fill you with their prejudices. Brainwash you into following their ways, whether they’re right for you or not.”

Felicia was silent. She understood what the Sheriff was implying about her relationship with Granny, but didn’t want to believe it. Still, his words gave her something to think about.

“Some people have a way of presenting themselves in a way that makes you feel safe. But they have two faces. One that invites you in and softens you up, until they’re ready to reveal their true nature. By then you’re usually in too deep to get out without a lot of pain and assistance from people who really care. You get what I’m saying?”

“Yes, sir. I think I do.”
But Granny’s not like that. She rescued me. From the real creeps in this town.

“All I’m saying is be careful. At your age you should be hanging with kids your own age.”

Like your boy Wally?

“And listening to adults who have your best interest at heart,” he continued. “Your parents. Your teachers.”

Felicia nodded. She didn’t necessarily agree with his advice, but knew she’d be smart to pretend she was getting with the program. Gravel crunched under the SUV’s tires as it swung into the driveway of her house. “Home. Safe and sound.”

“Thanks, Sheriff.”

“I hope you’ll consider what I said.”

“I will. I promise,” Felicia smiled… then driven by an instinct she didn’t quite understand, she leaned across the seat and gave him a daughterly kiss on the cheek.

Owen sat in silence, trying to swallow the lump in his throat as he watched her hop out and skip sweetly to her house.

Why couldn’t my kid be like her?

359

Felicia tried to focus on her homework but found it impossible. She had suffered through a cold and clumsy dinner conversation, with her mother picking at her as if she were a scab, while her father valiantly tried to deflect his wife’s barbs and pull the family back together.

Felicia knew her mom well enough to know that she was simply venting her own frustrations. But she resented the fact that her mother wasn’t self-aware enough to know how mean and petty it was to take those feelings out on her.

Yes, I screwed up. So punish me. That’s your parental prerogative. But don’t torture me psychologically while pretending to be concerned.

As if that wasn’t enough to worry about, she had the kids at school and the gossip hounds all through the county. Word of her strange exploits had already made the rounds. Sidelong glances and hooded whispers greeted her wherever she went. The haters were having a field day.

Closing her schoolbooks she slid off the bed and began to pace her room. She felt like a cat in a cage.

She looked through the open window, saw the sky turning red and gray as the sun slinked low. The crisp green smells of springtime beckoned her.

A low growl rolled from her larynx. She wanted out. To run wild through the forest. To leap over obstacles like an acrobat and hide in the dark like a demon. To sneak up on someone. Feel her claws dig into flesh. Her teeth crunch bone.
The taste of human blood.

Stop it. You know you can’t. Not tonight. Not for a while. It’s way too dangerous. The hunters are still out there, hoping to become heroes.

It’s just too soon.

Too risky.

But as the sun dipped further she surrendered to her animal lust. Hurrying to her mirror she dumped her bag of theatrical make-up onto the vanity. Grabbing a jar of black greasepaint she dipped her fingers in and began slathering her face.

No time to get fancy. Tonight it’s just basic black.

As the sun set she found herself staring at the face of a panther.

In two bounds she was out the window and shooting down the tree, ricocheting from branch to branch like a giant eightball.

***

The night was moonless. A perfect night for a panther to prowl unseen.

Felicia darted from shadow to shadow, moving from house to house. Tiny rodents skittered away in panic. Dogs barked from the safety of their homes and yards, spreading the alarm that a serious menace was afoot.

When she finally reached the woods, she relaxed and adopted a leisurely pace. She was virtually invisible in the dark night woods. She could see and hear any hunters or possible threats long before they might notice her.

As her furry hide brushed through foliage and her padded feet trod over cool clean earth, she enjoyed a feeling of hominess, of belonging to nature, unfettered and full of life. Of being a queen. Queen of a boundless green empire.

But she had business to tend to.

359

An hour later she was perched on a branch outside Wally’s bedroom, staring at him through the window.

He lay sprawled across his bed. He might have been dead or asleep, with one knee crooked up and his eyes drooped half open in a dull stare. Felicia realized he was drugged out on meds. Still reeling from the last attack. His macho bravado had been pulverized. Rather than going out roaming with whatever was left of his crew, he was hiding away in a self-imposed prison.

It’s a good start… but I’m not through with him.

Felicia stood on the tree branch and crept carefully toward his window. The branch dipped and swayed under her weight, but she kept her balance and soon had two paws on Wally’s windowsill, her nose pressed against the glass.

Lifting a paw she tapped her claws gently on the window. After two or three taps, Wally finally raised his head to look.

Felicia pulled back and squinted her eyes closed. Fading into the blackness of the night.

Wally moved slowly towards the window, walking a bit unsteadily, hunched low to conceal his approach. Something inside told him to be wary, that there was danger outside. But the meds he’d popped earlier gave him the courage to proceed. To sate his curiosity.

In a stupor he peered through the window. All he could see was murky darkness outside, obscured by the glaring reflection of his bedside lamp in the dirty windowpane.