All attention was again focused on Orsay. Not a sound from the small crowd.
“A red sunset. The children all gazed into that red sun. But behind them, a devil. A demon.” Orsay winced as if she couldn’t look at this creature. “Then, the children realized that in that red sun were all their loved ones, arms outstretched. Mothers and fathers. And all united, all filled with longing and love. Waiting so anxiously to welcome their children home.”
“Thank you, Prophetess,” Nerezza said.
“They wait…,” Orsay said. She raised one hand, waved it toward the barrier, fluttered. “Just beyond the wall. Just past the sunset.”
She sat down hard, a puppet whose strings had been cut. For a while she sat there, crumpled, hands open, palms up on her lap, head bowed.
But then, with a shaky smile she roused herself.
“I’m ready,” Orsay said.
She laid her palm against the FAYZ wall. Sam flinched. He knew from personal experience how painful that could be. It was like grabbing a bare electrical wire. It didn’t do any damage, but it sure felt like it did.
Orsay’s narrow face was scrunched up in pain. But when she spoke her voice was clear, untroubled. Like she was reading a poem.
“She dreams of you, Bradley,” Orsay said.
Bradley was Cigar’s real name.
“She dreams of you…you’re at Knott’s Berry Farm. You’re afraid to go on the ride…. She remembers how you tried to be brave…. Your mother misses you….”
Cigar sniffled. He carried a weapon of his own devising, a toy plastic light saber with double-edged razor blades stuck into the end. His hair was tied back in a ponytail and held with a rubber band.
“She…she knows you are here…. She knows…she wants you to come to her….”
“I can’t,” Cigar moaned, and Orsay’s helper, whoever she was, put a comforting arm around his shoulders.
“…when the time comes…,” Orsay said.
“When?” Cigar sobbed.
“She dreams that you will be with her soon…. She dreams…just three days, she knows it, she is sure of it….” Orsay’s voice had taken on an almost ecstatic tone. Giddy. “She’s seen others do it.”
“What?” Francis demanded.
“…the others who have reappeared,” Orsay said, dreamy now herself, as if she was falling asleep. “She saw them on TV. The twins, the two girls Anna and Emma…she saw them…. They give interviews and tell…”
Orsay yanked her hand back from the FAYZ wall as if she had just noticed the pain.
Sam had still not been seen. He hesitated. He should find out what this was about. But he felt strange, like he was intruding on someone else’s sacred moment. Like he would be barging into a church service.
He sank back toward the cliff’s deepest shadows, careful not to be heard over the soft shush…shush…shush of the water.
“That’s all for tonight,” Orsay said, and hung her head.
“But I want to know about my dad,” D-Con urged. “You said you could do me tonight. It’s my turn!”
“She’s tired,” Orsay’s helper said firmly. “Don’t you know how hard this is for her?”
“My dad is probably out there trying to talk to me,” D-Con wailed, pointing at a specific place on the FAYZ barrier, as if he could picture his father right there, trying to peer through frosted glass. “He’s probably right outside the wall. He’s probably…” He choked up, unable to continue, and now Nerezza gathered him to her as she had Cigar, comforting him.
“They’re all waiting,” Orsay said. “All of them out there. Just beyond the wall. So many…so many…”
&nbs
p; “The Prophetess will try again tomorrow,” the helper said. She raised D-Con to his feet. “Go now, all of you. Go. Go!”