Twenty-Four Shadows. Tanya J. Peterson

      Isaac looked at the intrusive table companions and tried to determine just who they were. Clearly they knew him. Fairly well, too, or so it seemed. His heart started to pound. Was he supposed to know them? Ugh! He hated it when this happened. There were so many times when he was out in public, in a store or in a restaurant or at the park with Reese and Dominic, for example, that people seemed to know him but he didn’t recognize them at all. More than likely, it was a function of his role with the Conifers. As a marketer and event planner, he was out and about the community year-round as well as frequently present at games in the summer. Still, though, he would think that he would recognize people he came in contact with. Sometimes he did, but they felt like mere acquaintances. Too frequently he had experiences like this one, where people seemed personal and friendly with him but he had absolutely no clue who they were. He faked a happy grin. “Hey! Not much. What about you guys?”

      “We just grabbed lunch and are headed to rehearsal. Speaking of which, you plan on joining us again anytime soon? I mean, I know you only play with us occasionally, and not to further inflate your ego or anything, but your trumpet playing adds punch.”

      Isaac swallowed hard. He should probably feel relieved by that comment. Clearly these people had the wrong guy. He didn’t feel relieved, though. He felt nauseated. They called him by name. Why? Terrified, he risked a look at Max. Max knew that Isaac didn’t play in a band. Hell, he didn’t even play the trumpet. Or any damn instrument, for that matter. How was Max reacting to these bizarre people? Thankfully, not at all. He continued to toy absentmindedly with his beer.

      One of the random chummy strangers followed Isaac’s gaze to Max. “Where are our manners?” she asked jovially. “Isaac, will you introduce us to your friend?” Oh God. How could he introduce these people he supposedly knew but didn’t? He leaned over too far when the woman nudged him. “What’s up with you? You’re acting really weird, and not in a fun way like you usually do. You don’t seem like yourself today.”

      Fantastic. He faked another smile. “Sorry. I’m, uh, I’m just having lunch with my friend Max, and, uh, I—”

      Mercifully, the woman turned her attention away from Isaac and onto Max. She stuck out her hand enthusiastically. “Max.” She shook his hand heartily when he extended his. “Very nice to meet you. I’m Neptune. This is Adrian and Jet.” She gestured toward each of her companions as she said their names, and each one extended his hand to shake Max’s. The one called Adrian had to lean across the table to do so, and he brushed against Isaac when he did. “We’re part of the band Your Grandma’s ’Hose.”

      As the three oddballs talked with each other and drew Max into a conversation, Isaac couldn’t keep up with what they were saying. He felt extremely ill. His hands were sweaty, and he could feel the perspiration bead on the back of his neck and roll down his shirt. He tried to take a drink, but anxious tremors in his hands made the bottle shake when he lifted it. He quickly set it down. He tried once again to tune into the conversation, but the words were drowned out courtesy of the voices that had resumed their commotion in his head. This time, it sounded like a pretty intense argument. About what, though, he hadn’t a clue. The music had started playing, too. The pressure in his head was intensifying and was almost unbearable. He couldn’t show it. With tremendous effort, he focused on Max and what he was saying to the three amigos. Mercifully, he heard Max say, “Yeah. It was nice to meet you, too.”

      As the three stood up to leave, the one whom Neptune had called Adrian squeezed Isaac’s shoulder and said, “Don’t be a stranger. You know the schedule.” And just like that, they were gone. Isaac stared at the courtyard door even after it had closed. He was afraid to look at Max. He had to do so, though, when Max spoke.

      “Man, you sure know a lot of people.”

      Isaac shrugged. “Not really. Just from my job, you know, like at games and stuff. I have to talk to people. PR-type stuff.” He wondered if his voice was as high and strained to Max’s ears as it was to his own.

      “Is that how you met Your Grandma’s ’Hose? And I didn’t know you played the trumpet, Isaac. I know that you don’t play with them all the time, but maybe I could hear you some time. Based on what your friends described, Gretchen would hate the music, but I’ll sneak away with you.” Max paused, apparently realizing what he just said, and his face fell. “I guess that’s not actually an issue, is it?”

      “Max. I’m sorry. I…” He was about to say that he’d love to take Max to listen to the band, but then he remembered that he didn’t know the damn band. “I just want you to know that I’m here for you. Reese, too.” Max was toying with the beer bottle again. He looked up when Isaac asked him if he was okay.

      “Good God. I think I should be asking you if you’re okay.”

      “Why?”

      “Because suddenly you look like hell. One of your killer headaches?”

      Isaac propped his elbows on the table and rubbed his forehead and his temples. Yes, he was experiencing one of his massive headaches. But he had been all weekend so it was nothing new to the moment. It was more than just that. What, though, could he possibly say to Max? He sat in silence and massaged his head. He heard Max’s bottle clink against his own. “Isaac, let’s get out of here.”

      He didn’t look up. “But we haven’t eaten yet.”

      “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t look like you have an appetite. And I don’t have much of one either. Kinda hard to eat right now, ya know?”

      At this, Isaac did look up. “I do know, and it sucks. Look. Today isn’t about me. It’s about you. I’m fine, really. Let’s stay for a while.”

      Max sighed. “I appreciate that. I really do. But to be honest, I just wanna go. I keep thinking about Elise. I know she’s in good hands at your house, but I need to see her.”

      Isaac nodded. “Okay. Just a sec, though.” He inclined his head to the side. “I need to make a pit stop before we go.” He strode purposefully toward the men’s room, fervently hoping that strangers wouldn’t notice him and beckon to him. When he reached his destination, he stepped in, locked the door—thankfully it was a single-occupant restroom—leaned back against the door, and closed his eyes. He sighed deeply. Everything was catching up to him: the long stressful weekend with its significant glitches; the unrelenting headache; Gretchen’s abandonment of Max and Elise; the mysterious and insufferable cigarette burns, not to mention Reese’s allegation that he had smoked; the odd people in the bar just now, claiming that he played the trumpet with them in their band; even Dominic turning five. Because his legs were weights beyond his ability to lift, his shoes squeaked as he made his way over to the sink. He carefully slid up one of his sleeves and peered under a bandage. The angry cigarette burns underneath scorned him. Quickly, he shoved the sleeve back down. He bit his lip hard to keep from crying out in pain. It served him right. Look at all of the bad things he had done just in the last few days, and that was barely a drop in the voluminous bucket of rancid water that represented his life.

      He bent forward and splashed cold water on his face in an attempt to soothe the pain and confusion that burned under the surface. He focused on the feelings he had for Reese and Dominic. He loved them both deeply. He loved Max deeply, too, in a brotherly way. He hated these damn glitches of his, not just for himself but for the people he cared about. He didn’t know what they were or why they happened or how he could stop them from happening again, but at least throughout his life they hadn’t been disruptive to others. Hopefully not, anyway. But these last few days had been disastrous. He looked in the mirror and watched the water drip off his face. Was this bizarre aspect of his personality going to become more pronounced and bothersome? If it did, it would certainly become more difficult to hide.

      Chapter 4

      Isaac felt Reese’s warm breath on the back of his neck. She was snuggled against him, and she felt good. He wanted to lie like this indefinitely, just enjoying her presence amidst the silence of the room. He pretended to be asleep to avoid shattering the moment. When she began to slowly run her fingers along his upper arms, his shoulders, and his