Chapter 6

Little known fact #2: The sensation of teleportation is somewhat like the uneasy feeling you get on a plane, when the pilot dips the altitude too fast.

When Vi said she was still “getting the hang of it,” she failed to mention that she had not yet even begun to master the art of landings. We both stumbled into my living room, and the impact of the floor reopened the gash under my eye.

She apologized and lifted me in her arms. I could smell her perfume that close to her body, a sweet vanilla scent that went perfectly with her overall girly motif. She lay me carefully down onto the couch. Then she scurried out of the room and returned with a wet washcloth. Gently, she began patting the wound.

“Damn, I knew I should’ve popped in earlier,” she said. “I thought something was wrong.”

“He…he wasn’t moving when I left.” I felt detached, and all I could picture in my head was how still Chad was, lying on the floor.

“Well, duh. He was dead, Kate.”

Hearing her say it confirmed my suspicion. He was dead.

Chad was dead.

How did he…

“No, no that can’t be right,” I said out loud, fighting against what I knew was the truth. “He was fine. No, he IS fine.” I sat upright, startling Vi.

“Why do you think I wanted to bolt?”

“He might be hurt though,” I said, ignoring her. “I should call an ambulance.”

Vi looked at me as if I were high. “Morgue is more like it,” she mumbled, shaking her head.

“Don’t say that, he’s fine.” I figured if I kept saying it, it might actually be true. I dug in my purse, looking for my cell phone. “Where the fuck is it?”

Frustrated, I threw the purse across the room. Then I broke down and cried.

Vi wrapped her arms around me. For a while, I didn’t speak. When I finally calmed down enough, I relayed the whole fucked up incident to her. And as I retold it, what really happened to Chad became perfectly clear.

“It was me,” I said. “Oh my God, I killed that man.”

I felt a tear trickle down my cheek. It wasn’t because Chad specifically had died. It was more because a human being had died at my hands, regardless of however loosely I defined the term, “human being.”

“You can’t blame yourself, that’s bullshit,” Vi said. “He was about to rape you!”

“That doesn’t give me the right to take his life.” Panic set in as I wondered what to do next. Do I turn myself in? What would I say? How could I possibly explain what happened?

Vi looked at me sideways. “How do you know you did it? I mean, did you feel something different?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” I recalled the throbbing sensation that had subsided, after I screamed at him. And then how I visualized his brain exploding…

“You didn’t know what you were doing,” Vi said, interrupting my thoughts. “It’s not like you intended to do it.”

I snickered. “How does that matter? He’s still dead.”

“Of course it matters. Intention is everything,” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“What am I going to tell the police?” I got up and began to pace the room. “They’re going to want to talk to me, I was the last person with him.”

“Calm down, Kate, it’s going to be fine.”

“Fine? How is this fine?” I wanted to scream. “I can’t survive in prison!”

I quickened my pace. Pickle stared at me from the kitchen, as if I were a different person. Somehow, he knew not to complain about my tardiness in feeding him.

“I have to leave the country,” I announced.

Vi intercepted me, grabbing my arms. “Stop! You’re not a fugitive. Look the dude was easily 100 pounds overweight. Just say it looked like a heart attack, you bolted because you were afraid of him.”

Could that work, I wondered. Heart attack would certainly be plausible, considering his age, weight, and high-stress job. I took a deep breath and exhaled.

“That’s better,” Vi said, gently touching my less injured cheek. “I’m so sorry this happened to you, but you’re going to be okay, I promise. Go lie down for now, I’ve got something I need to take care of.”

I nodded and sat on the couch. “Oh shit, my car! It’s still there. If someone sees it tomorrow, it’s going to look suspicious.”

“I can get it. What does it look like?”

I described the late model Pisces down to its reddish-brown paint color as I hunted for the keys, which of course were in the purse I’d thrown. There weren’t many cars still around from the 20s, so I knew she wouldn’t have trouble finding it.

She poofed out and I passed out, though it wasn’t my intention. I suppose after that shitstorm, I was just worn out. I awoke to the feeling of Vi’s fingers in my hair.

“Feeling better?” she asked.

“Yeah, I am. Guess I needed the nap.”

“Glad to hear it. Your car is back.” She placed my keys back in my purse. “By the way, your power is fucking awesome, my dear.”

I looked at her as if she had three tits. “Awesome? How do you figure?”

“Well, it’s like you can kill people by just thinking about it. Probably the most awesome power ever.”

I considered her words and realized she was right. Awesome, meaning unbelievable, outrageously powerful. Not like awesome cool. I didn’t understand it, which scared the shit out of me. This wasn’t a good ability to have without control. What do I do? Replaying the scene in my mind, I came to the conclusion that at the very least, I needed to choose my thoughts carefully, and keep my emotions in check in the future.

I jumped at the sound of a knock on my front door. Paranoia wasn’t usually my thing, but having just killed a man…

“Are you expecting anyone?” Vi asked.

“No, I…”

“I’ll get it.”

I followed her to the door, wondering who it could possibly be. God, is it the police already?