Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Gram pointed to the bleachers. “There are three open seats in the front row. Come on.”

We followed her over and sat amongst the cardboard audience.

“Why don’t we just stay on the stage?” I asked. “We know we’re going to be chosen as the contestants.”

“Not how the game works,” she said. “We’re gonna play by the rules until the Higher Power breaks ‘em.”

I didn’t question her wisdom. We were a triad—the past, the present, and the future. In order to come out on top, the power of three was the law.

The theme song blasted through the speakers. It was loud, and I slapped my hands over my ears. Normally, the tune made me smile. It reminded me of Gram. Today, it was terrifying.

The same announcer voice from Jeopardy bellowed through the sound system. “This is The Price is Right! Gram, come on down!”

Gram stood, pumped her skinny arms over her head, and ran down to one of the three podiums on the floor at the edge of the stage.

The announcer wasn’t done. “Alana Catherine, come on down!”

My daughter mimicked her great-grandmother with the fist pump and ran to the second podium.

And the final call came. “Daisy, come on down!”

It was painful to act excited, but I did it. However, I did it my way. Instead of fists over my head, I shot the bird with both hands in the air while I ran down to my podium. The little acts of defiance were getting me through this trial and keeping me from becoming unhinged.

With flashing lights and canned cheers, Bob Barker walked out onto the stage. I’d expected him to have attractive girls with him who displayed the items during the show, but he was alone. It was suspect, but I kept my cool. Jumping to conclusions wouldn’t help the cause.

Bob Barker bared his teeth at us in what I think he thought was a smile. It wasn’t.

“That’s a Fake Bob,” Gram said under her breath. “My Bob had a lovely smile. This guy looks like he just swallowed a turd whole.”

I almost choked on my spit. Gram had a way with words like no one else. She was also correct. Fake Bob Barker wasn’t happy to see us. He snapped his fingers, and a human-sized box wrapped in shiny silver paper lowered from the ceiling. It was released to the floor with a thud. Bob walked over to the box and stared at it for about a minute too long. None of the other hosts had used magic. Fake Bob was no ordinary host.

I knew what was in that box—or rather, who was in that box. It was Steve. I could feel his energy. The desire to just take the box, Gram and Alana Catherine and leave this fucked up plane was intense. My daughter, recognizing my inclination, placed her hand in mine and squeezed.

“Not yet,” she whispered. “Soon, but not yet.”

I nodded jerkily. I pushed back my emotional rage and concentrated on the logistical aspects. Emotions made one sloppy in battle. There was no room for error, and I wasn’t going to be the catalyst for failure.

Fake Bob slowly turned to the audience and made direct eye contact with me. His eyes flashed silver and gold. It was usually stunning and something I’d never seen. I was positive we were finally in the Higher Power’s presence. It was time to start playing the real game. Not knowing what it was or the rules were was dangerous, but we were here to win.

“You will play the games,” he demanded with a sly little smirk playing on his lips. “You must win all of them to walk away with the silver box.”

“And if we don’t?” I question flatly.

If he didn’t like my tone, he didn’t show it. “Then I win the box and what’s inside.”

“I call bullshit,” I said, as canned gasps came through the speakers. I rolled my eyes and stood my ground. “The games are rigged.”

Fake Bob feigned surprise. No one was buying what he was selling. “Now why would you say that, Daisy?” he questioned, pouting. “You seem to be holding a grudge against me. So unnecessary and not to your benefit.”

I shrugged and smiled. My smile threw him off a bit. “Some people might call it holding a grudge. I call it, I see who you are and am choosing not to unsee it. I’m free to choose, Bob.”

His brows shot up and his eyes flashed dangerously. “Freedom of choice does not mean freedom of consequences.”

“Exactly,” I said with an exaggerated wink. “I do believe you might want to keep that in mind.”

The stare-down was extreme. Neither one of us wanted to be the first to break it. His utter surprise that I didn’t back down made the disgusting man or whatever he was chuckle.

“Your reputation precedes you quite accurately,” he finally said.

“As does yours,” I shot back.

“And what might my reputation be?” he inquired casually. There was nothing casual about the question.

“I’m not one to gossip,” I replied evenly. “I could turn the question back on you.”

“That would be rude.”

“I have to respectfully refute that statement. I have excellent manners. Would you like to know how I know that?” I asked.

He was curious. Clearly perturbed, but curious. “But of course.”

“The definition of good manners in my book is putting up with the bad manners of others.”

He didn’t like my answer. I didn’t like him. We were even.

His eyes narrowed to slits. “Play the game or I will destroy the box.”

“Show me what’s in the box,” I challenged.

He smiled. It came nowhere close to reaching his eyes. The Higher Power made my blood run cold. This wasn’t a benevolent being. It was a crime against humanity. How had we gotten to this?

With great fanfare and more loud music from the speakers, Fake Bob removed the paper from the box and then clapped his hands. The box disintegrated, and Steve stood in his ghostly form on the stage. He wasn’t out of it. He was fully aware of what was happening around him, and he appeared terrified. But I knew him well. His terror wasn’t for himself, it was for me. My happiness and safety were his priorities. That was something that would never change. However, it went both ways. His happiness and safety were my goals as well.

“Satisfied?” Fake Bob queried.

“What happened to you?” I asked. The question wasn’t to get a rise out of It. I asked in all seriousness.

“I don’t know what you mean,” It replied.

“Well, I sure do, you Fake Bob Barker, idiot asscrack,” Gram yelled, wagging her finger at It. “What my granddaughter asked you was who peed in your soup? Here you are up in some messed up plane with horny game show hosts and weird ass rules. This is givin’ me a real burr in my saddle. Not to mention, you’ve desecrated the sexiest man alive. You don’t hold a candle to Bob Barker, and you should be ashamed of yourself for stealin’ his face.”

The Higher Power wasn’t quite sure what to do. It was probably a once in a very long lifetime event for It.

Gram was on a roll and not even close to being done. “You wanna know what you are? You wanna know? I’m gonna tell you! You’re as worthless as gum on a bootheel. You’re so full of yourself, you think the sun comes up just to hear you crow. It don’t. Sitting up here all high and mighty is about as useless as a steering wheel on a dang mule. You need to get your sorry ass down to the earthly plane and learn some damned manners, shit for brains. There ain’t no tear in the Light. You just stole some innocent souls to get Daisy on up here. That makes my butt itch. Guess you weren’t expectin’ her to have backup,” Gram yelled. “Welp, you guessed wrong. I’d suggest you hand over Steve and put your sorry ass into time-out for a few million years.”

“Are you done?” It asked, seething with rage.

“Are you?” she shot back.

“Not quite,” It replied, pulling Itself back together. “While some of your verbal lashing was right on the money, some was not.”

“You wanna be more specific?” I asked.

Its eyes went to Alana Catherine. The expression Its face was a combination of fury and confusion. I didn’t like it.

“The old woman was wrong.”

“About?” Alana Catherine asked.

“About Daisy coming with backup. I planned it this way,” It answered with a tight smile.

That wasn’t welcome news, but while It seemed to be doling out information, I was going to press for more. “So, there’s no rip in the Light?”

“There is no rip in the Light,” It confirmed, Its eyes still glued to Alana Catherine. “What say you we make a deal, Angel of Mercy?”

“We’re on the wrong set for that game,” I retorted flatly.

It glanced around and then snapped Its fingers. We were now on the set of Let’s Make A Deal . It was no longer Fake Bob Barker. It was now Fake Monty Hall. For a brief and unhinged moment, I wondered what the real facade of the Higher Power looked like, then laughed. That wasn’t important to anything going on. It seemed to have no real identity. From what I’d learned, It took on many different visages. It must suck to have no sense of self and be dependent on the imagination of others.

Not my problem.

“Is this backdrop better?” It asked.

“No, but state your terms,” I told It.

“I’m willing to make a trade,” It said. “You can have the ghost. I will trade him for Alana Catherine.”

“Are you fucking out of your mind?” I shouted at the same time Steve uttered the identical words.

The Higher Power whipped around and glared at Steve. Steve glared right back. It was clear that he believed he had nothing to lose and was going to defend me and my daughter until the end. But he had a lot to lose. The Higher Power could reduce him to dust. It would mean he would be nothing. No more. Just… gone. That was wrong and it wasn’t happening on my watch.

The Higher Power would come back if I ended It. I would come back if It ended me. I let my rage back in. The only person who had no chance of coming back was Steve. That was beyond the pale and not on my agenda. Running on emotions could be detrimental, but this time I’d use it to my benefit.

“I don’t like you,” It snarled at Steve.

“Back at you,” Steve said.

The Higher Power let out a growl that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. When It raised Its hands over Its head, I took my opening. It was going down.

But someone beat me to the punch… kind of.

Alana Catherine let out a piercing scream. It shattered every light on the sound stage. It also blew the roof off the building. Sunlight spilled and illuminated the set. The warmth and beauty of the light was in stark juxtaposition to what was happening.

My daughter raised her hands high them slashed them down to her sides with another scream. Everything went still. Everything except my daughter, Gram, Steve and me. Fake Monty Hall aka the Higher Power was frozen as well. How powerful was my daughter?

“What in tarnation did you just do, Alana Catherine?” Gram asked in a whisper. “Right near lost my hearin’.”

“Umm… I froze time,” she whispered back. “Not sure how long it will last. We need to save Steve. Now.”

She sprinted up onto the stage with Gram and me on her heels.

“Wait,” Steve said as Alana Catherine went to touch him. He smiled at her and studied her face. “I want to meet you properly.”

“She’s my daughter,” I told him.

His smile grew wider, and tears filled his eyes. “She’s so beautiful,” he said with reverence. “Just like her mom and dad.”

“Thank you,” I told him. “She’s my everything.”

“As she should be,” he replied, still staring with true delight at Alana Catherine. “I don’t think you should save me. It might enrage that thing.”

“You ain’t suggestin’ we make the trade?” Gram asked, confused.

“Never in a million years,” Steve told her. “I think you three should just leave if you can. Get out of this place and leave me here. Maybe, that thing will be satisfied with destroying me and leave you alone.”

“It won’t,” Alana Catherine said. “For some reason It wants me. This entire situation was to get me here.”

“It can’t have you,” I ground out.

“Correct,” she replied. “But we need to know why It wants me. If we don’t we’ll be in danger for a very long time, considering how long we live.”

“It gives me a nasty butt rash to agree with the little gal, but I do,” Gram admitted. “I mean, I’m talkin’ a red, raw, in need of medication kind of butt rash.”

I blew out a wildly frustrated audible breath. “We get the picture, Gram. And while I don’t completely disagree, I don’t think three of us are enough to fight It.”

“With all due respect, mom… I disagree with you. Three is the magic number. We’re the past the present and the future.” She then recited what she’d told Pandora. “The game is a riddle. Three must play to win and break the evil spells. The show will go on, and the wheels will turn. The answers are questions. The price must be right, or the innocent will pay. In the end, the choice will be on the strongest. The strongest shall emerge the victor. Anything is possible. You just have to believe. Time is running out.”

We listened to the words. We’d already successfully worked our way through most of what was turning out to be a prophecy. None of us could have done it alone. Three was indeed the magic number.

“We are the strongest,” Alana Catherine said. “Together, we’re the strongest and will emerge as the victor if we believe.” She let her gaze meet each of ours. “I believe.”

Gram dropped three F-bombs much to Steve’s surprise, then took Alana Catherine’s hand. “I believe.”

They both looked at me. My motherly instincts were warring with my instincts for what was right and what was wrong. I knew in my mind my daughter was right. I just had to get my heart on the same page. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. Anything was possible. Anything. I just had to believe. I believed in right over wrong. I believed in justice. I believed in Gideon, Candy Vargo, Heather, Tim, Charlie and the others. I believed in Gram. And what didn’t come as a surprise to me at all… I believed in Alana Catherine.

Opening my eyes, I smiled at the two women who were the most important females in my life. “I believe.”

“Yes!” Steve yelled. “I believe in all of you! Kick that thing’s ass!”

Alana Catherine laughed and extended her arms to Steve. “I want to thank you,” she told him.

“For what?” he asked, perplexed.

“For loving my mom. For being her best friend and husband when she was alone. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you and your journey with my mom. You’re such a beautiful soul, Steve. It would be my honor to give you a safe haven inside me until we can bring you back to the Light where you belong.”

There wasn’t a dry eye in the house.

“Come to me,” Alana Catherine urged. “Let me take care of you like you took care of my mom.”

Steve was overcome with emotion and nodded jerkily. With a quick and sweet kiss to both Gram and me, he went into my daughter’s open arms and disappeared.

“It’s time,” she stated. “The spell is about to wear off.”

“New catchphrase,” Gram said. “It’s kinda long, but it works… In the end the choice will be on the strongest. The strongest shall emerge the victor. Anything is possible. You just have to believe.”

I grinned. It was long past time to end the game.