Lines of Coincidence

****

Police were just arriving on scene but the lightning of raining cameras were everywhere.  Almost drowned out the lights of the emergency vehicles.  It was probably the bloodiest robbery attempt seen for decades in this tranquil Chicago suburb.  The media attention was growing fast, but the police did seem to succeed, however, to back reporters off the scene of the crime.
               

In front of me were two lifeless bodies; a stranger and a beautiful young women lying next to me as I sat almost crossed-legged in a pool of blood.  She lie dead with a bullet to the forehead as her eyes stare motionless into mine.  I sat dazed and confused.  I tried crying out to her.  I was filled with a deep sadness.  I didn't know what was going on.  All I knew was that this was not good.  Again I tried to reach and call out to the women lying in a pool of her own blood.
               

Suddenly, as I almost touched her face, I  felt myself lifted from the ground.  I was riding in the arms of a tall police officer.  I could hear the radio attached to his color almost right on me.  He marches over to a squad car and places me in the back.  He buckles me in, kneels down and looked me in the eyes.
               

“Don’t worry, kid.  It’s going to be okay.”

****

I woke up in a cold sweat.  Pretty dazed.  Didn't know exactly where I was for the moment.  I opened and shut my eyes a few times to get them to focus in on the shadows that were becoming more and more like my room.

Or at least what I called my room.

I sat up in my bed, swiftly removing my blankets as I swung my feet over the edge.  I sat there, arms to my side, palms hanging halfway over the edge.  I looked at my legs in the dark as my eyes continued their mission to re-adjust.  Taking longer than I would like, I began to count the hairs on my legs.  I almost counted to the rhythm in my breathing which was slowly returning to normal.

Wiping sweat from my forehead, I stood up.  A little too fast as bit of dizziness made me stumble slightly into the plastic divider that separated my quarters from Shawna's. 

Hopefully I didn't wake her, I thought  Honestly, though, I didn't care.

Already this was the third time this week I've woken up sweaty and shaking.  What's worse, it was to a dream I can't ever remember.

Frustrating, really.

I looked around my room, making a half-circle in place.  I glanced to the "door" to my "room", which really was two pieces of plastic accordian wall that where held together my miniature magnets where it splits open.  There stood Calvin.  Light blond hair, rather ghostly complexion, the small seven-year-old child just stood there looking back at me.

"I heard you again," he said quietly.

"Sorry, Cal.  I didn't mean to wake you."

I've become colder toward people around me the older I've grown.  Somehow Calvin has been able to breach my inner defenses.  He's probably the only person that I can say looks up to me.  Not sure if that is a good thing or not.  It is what it is, however, and I have grown kind of protective of him over my short stay here with the Mavericks. 

If I'm not spending time with Calvin, I'm in school, or I'm self-indulged in a Superman comic.--a lot of times both.  Calvin gets into them too when I do.  Not just Superman, but he is my favorite for many reasons.  Not because of his amazing abilities.  Yea, I'd love to fly, and be impervious to anything physically, but I am fascinated with the idea behind him.  A being foreign to the planet that is far superior to everyone on it, yet, he chooses to protect it.

In my opinion... Superman definitely wasn't human.

"So how loud was I this time?" I asked.

Calvin stood quiet a moment.

"Well?"

"I don't think anyone heard you, Cory.  I mean, they might have, but I don't think so."

"I had to be pretty loud if I woke you on the other side of the basement."

"Maybe.  I don't here Shawna moving around."

"Thankfully."

Shawna has lived with the Mavericks for years.  She's a 17 year old black girl, rather heavy set.  Was almost adopted until she had an abortion.  It wasn't so much the abortion, or even the pregnancy.  I think it was more of who the unborn may have belonged too.  She's always had some sort of attitude with me for as long as I've known her.  I don't know why.  I keep to myself, mostly.  Most of the other foster kids leave me alone.  Shawna is the one who seems to go out of her way.

"Cory, I heard you loud and clear, but I don't think I heard you across the basement," His words almost shot out like a caged animal waiting to be let out.

I knew where this was going.

"Well, I sorta heard you loud and clear...I heard the static also."

"Calvin..."

"I know, I know.  I know what you are going  to say, but its happened before.  And I heard it, again..." Calvin trailed out.

"What?"

He looked at the ground and then back up at me.  "That fuzzy noise.  You know... The static..."

The "static" is what I refereed to, when I did refer to it, as this fuzzy noise I hear in my head sometimes.  I call it static because it is very similar to that of radio noise when you are turning between stations.  Not loudly or painfully, and its not continuous.  Yet, every now and then I hear the "static", soon after, voices follow.

I have most likely gone insane, but I'm certain I do not suffer from schizophrenia.  Calvin believes that I can hear what people are thinking.  The kid isn't stupid either.  I've tried to play it off, but I fear he may be right.  I don't know how to confirm it.  Yet, I don't know how all that had to do with Calvin waking up.

"I heard your voice.  You were crying out for someone.  You were almost screaming.  I saw it too, I think.  A bloody floor, your mom..."

"Calvin!"

"I'm sorry."

I am touchy about my past.  I let few into my world.  I knew he meant no disrespect.

"I think I'm seeing and hearing your thoughts too."

I remained quiet.

"I dunno...  It happens mostly when you sleep before I do.  If you sleep before me, I see this stuff when I'm awake. 

I honestly had no idea what was going on.  This was becoming more and more frequent each night, becoming harder to ignore.  I have no idea how to handle it either.  So I put up my best defense I had for it. 

I shrugged it off.

"Cal, you better get back to bed.  I can't do much about this right now.  Just, don't tell Beth or Carroll.  Please."

Quietly, Cal nodded and turned heading for the door.  Before he reached out of sight he stopped.

"Cal?"

He was silent again, but before I could press on he looked at me again.

"The walls... The cracks are getting bigger."