A Wicked Beginning Read online

  “Huh,” Cam said, thinking of all that had just gone down at Hurricane Ridge.

  “You know of the place?”

  “Uh, yeah, I was just out there.” He picked up his coffee and took a sip. Then he picked up a brochure, looking at it without seeing any of the words.

  “It’s a beautiful place. This time of year, there’s still some snow up high. But there’s a camp site with cabins that will provide the base for your kids. You’ll sit through some counseling sessions, participate in wilderness excursions, and just generally follow Mark’s lead. I’m sure, given your experience, you’ll get to run with a few things on your own with Mark there as backup. Cameron…? Are you listening?”

  “Uh, yeah, sorry, I was just lost in thought. Okay, so, I fill out this paperwork; take it over to Mark Myers…where will I find him?”

  James handed Cam a business card. “He’s over near the arboretum, about 20 minutes away. If you can do this today, that would be great. He’s there until 6:30 or so. He’s expecting you.”

  Cam glanced down at his watch. It was only 2:30. “Alright, James, thanks. I really appreciate you setting this up for me. Sorry I’m a little preoccupied today.”

  The waitress stopped by to top off their coffees. “You have more going on than most people,” James remarked, pouring milk into his cup. He picked up a spoon and stirred thoughtfully before taking a sip. “You’re just renewing your relationship with Chérie, plus you are dealing with the supernatural. Most people couldn’t cope. How’s it going with Chérie?”

  “Fucking awesome,” Cam blurted out. He gave James a sheepish look. “I mean, it’s going great…really good. We’re working stuff out, dealing with things together, enjoying the things we love. It’s better than I could have imagined.” Not to mention the out of this world sex part.

  James gave an easy laugh. “I’m happy to hear that, Cameron. I always thought she looked like a delightful young woman.” The two men sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, drinking their java. Then James patted the brochure lying on the table. “I think this will be a good fit for you, Cam. From what I know, you love the great outdoors; plus, you have the history and you’re working on the healing to be able to relate to troubled youth. Just see what you think.”

  “Okay, James, I’ll have a go.” He rubbed his jaw. “Thanks for all the support, James. I mean it.”

  James looked Cam in the eye. “It’s my pleasure, Cameron. I believe in you.”

  “Well, thanks.” Cam looked away and quickly swiped his eyes. Why the fuck were his eyes tearing up? Was this what happened when you became vulnerable? Someone you admire gives you a compliment and you start to fucking weep? He was seriously going to have to reconsider allowing himself to be vulnerable. But then there was the great sex… Shit. He looked back at James who continued to gaze at him softly.

  “You’re a good man,” James said.

  “Huh.” Cam reached for his wallet and pulled out a few dollars. He set them on top of the bill the waitress had left. “Let me get this, James.”

  James looked at him thoughtfully. “Anything else going on, Cameron? I know this isn’t supposed to be therapy today, but…”

  “Well, yeah…” Cam looked out the window again. He took another sip of the coffee, now cold. “I remembered something…when I was up at the Ridge…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “…about my father. I’m not really, uh…not really comfortable talking about it in here. But it was rough.” He picked up the brochure, glanced at it, and put it back down.

  “I have an opening today. My 4:00 cancelled. You can talk to me about it if you like.”

  Cam considered. “Not sure it will do any good. It won’t change anything in my past.”

  James looked thoughtful. “No, Cameron, it won’t change a thing in your past. But it might change something in your present. When we’re children and terrible things happen to us, we’re not mature enough to know how to deal with them. We feel them, however, but we don’t know what to do with our feelings. So, they get stuck inside of us, causing us to act unconsciously. But you know this already. You even spoke about it with the men in group last year. Only now you are the one dealing with your own past, not observing another’s.”

  Cam looked down at the brochure again. On the cover was a youth, about 14 or 15, who had a hardened look on his face. His eyes were ringed with dark circles and there was a scowl on his face. There was another picture of the same kid, brushing out a horse at the camp, looking youthful and alive. “See what a difference the Teen Wilderness Camp can make in your child,” the brochure read. Cam scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, alright. I’ll swing by at four. What can it hurt?”

  James stood up to leave. “Alright, Cameron, I’ll see you in a little while.”

  Chapter 24 – Jayze

  Jayze stood in the center of her studio, hands on her hips, studying the piece before her. Her blond hair had clumps of clay here and there, and there were clay streaks covering her cheeks and arms. She was working on the lynx piece and found it fascinating. To Jayze, art was such a wondrous process of dream and manifest: ideas sparked in the mind, then cooked in the mind and then, when the time was right, the physical build began. The build always had its own agenda. She found she had to surrender, listen, and yield to the impulses in her head. It was like the pieces sculpted themselves sometimes. She was just a conduit. Often, she was as surprised as anyone at what revealed itself. This piece was like that only more so. She found herself talking to this piece, coaxing it out, encouraging it out. She sometimes felt like a midwife must feel bringing a babe into the world. “Come on, don’t be scared,” she said softly to the huge lump of moist sculpted earth.

  She began moving in a circle around the clay. The legs of the beast were powerful and strong, poised in a leap. The enormous paws appeared soft and strong, like the claws could shred you into fibers but if you had the presence of mind to feel the softness of the fur, you’d think, “What a soft paw!” As you were dying…right, she thought. The body was lithe and muscular. It was the face that was a challenge. When she looked at it from the right, it was snarling in fear. There was a hysterical look to the right eye. When she looked at it from the left, it was snarling in triumph, like the beast had mastered some ginormous challenge. “Well, which one is it, are you frightened or exultant?” she asked the clay beast. “Not sure yet?”

  As she slowly moved around the sculpture, eyeing it from this angle and that, she thought about the dinner at Mano’s. That Cam guy, now he was an interesting dude. The guy seemed to be going through a metamorphous of some kind. She had inherited some of “the sight” from her grandmother, and she could “see” a split in him, like he was moving from one reality to the next, not quite sure of where to place his foot. And Chérie…Jayze remembered her from the climbing gym. She always seemed like a nice woman, nothing much to her, sort of like non-fat milk. But at the dinner party, Jayze could see that she had already undergone the transformation that Cam was in the midst of – she was one potent woman. There was something deeply mysterious about her. Like she was in this world, but did not live here. It was a trip. And the two of them together…the two looked like a matched set of bookends. Or, more like two complementary pieces of art: when standing on their own they were interesting; when they were placed in juxtaposition to one another, magnificence was revealed.

  Wiping her hands off on a towel she kept tucked into her waistband, Jayze stopped pacing and went over and sat down on the patio chair in the corner. A sturdy, wide wrought iron chair with colorful orange and gold cushions, it was her favorite think spot. She rested her right elbow on her left hand and rubbed her cheek, deep in thought. The guy – Cam – had to factor into the sculpture somewhere. And Chérie, she played a part too. Jayze rested her arms on the wrought iron chair arms and closed her eyes. Her contemplation was interrupted by the loud clanging of the metal door to the studio being flung open. “Hey, Marilyn,” she said wearily, not bothering to open her eyes.
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br />   “I brought you some lunch,” Marilyn hissed.

  Jayze opened her eyes and gave Marilyn a tired smile. “Thanks.”

  Marilyn stalked over and thrust a sandwich at Jayze. “Here.”

  “Mmmm, turkey, lettuce, and barbed wire…my favorite,” Jayze quipped. “Want to try being a little softer?”

  Marilyn scowled and crouched down next to Jayze. She fingered one of her lip piercings, then grabbed a lock of hair and began twirling it in her fingers. “When are you going to be done here?” she demanded.

  “And I miss you too, Marilyn.”

  “Well, when?”

  Jayze gave her a pointed look. “Marilyn, what is going on? You know I work as long as I work on my studio days.”

  “You don’t really work, Jayze, you play. I have to sit in an office day after day to make enough money so we can survive.”

  Jayze frowned. “I make money, too. And if you hate your job so much, get another.”

  Marilyn chewed on her lock of hair. It was a habit that Jayze loathed. “I can’t just up and quit.”

  “You can…” Jayze began. She reached out to put a hand on Marilyn’s shoulder.

  Marilyn slapped it away. “Can’t…we wouldn’t make it if my paycheck wasn’t coming in.”

  Jayze felt familiar tears stinging her eyes. Maybe Mano was right. What did she see in this snarly woman after all? “I made it before, when you weren’t here. So why do you think we wouldn’t make it now, if you quit and started looking for another job?”

  Marilyn just scowled at her, her face a mask of harsh lines. Then she turned her piercing blue eyes in the direction of the piece of art. “That’s coming along…” she admitted. “It’s…it’s…nice.”

  “Nice is what you say when you can’t think of anything nice to say.” Jayze took a bite of the sandwich. “Am I going to die if I eat this?”

  “What do you think?” Marilyn snapped.

  “I think you are in a twist about something and rather than tell me what it is, you come in here and try to pick a fight, that’s what. Care to get to the point of things here?”

  Marilyn blew out her breath sharply. “I miss you, that’s all.”

  “You have a funny way of showing it,” Jayze quipped, chewing a mouthful of sandwich. “Thanks for bringing me lunch. I always forget about eating.”

  Marilyn gave her a sidelong glance. “You’re welcome.” Then she stood up, faced Jayze, and sat in her lap, putting one leg on either side of her. Taking the sandwich out of Jayze’ grasp, she dropped it to the floor and kissed her, hard.

  Jayze couldn’t help but feel aroused. This was why she was with Marilyn. It was for the sex, nothing more. She yielded to the rough kiss and put her hands around Marilyn’s neck. Marilyn reached around and grabbed one hand, then the other, placing them on the arms of the chair. Oh, right, Marilyn wants to be in control, all the time. She yielded to the control, like she usually did, becoming Marilyn’s good little submissive partner. Then a funny thing happened. Her eyes flicked to the left, and she glanced over at the lynx sculpture. It seemed to be looking back at her. She did a double take in her mind. Marilyn had released Jayze’ face and proceeded to pull at her drawstring pants. Jayze sat transfixed by the earthen beast, ignoring Marilyn’s insistent fingers. She thought it was mocking her, chiding and challenging her for the choices she was making. She pushed Marilyn’s hands away. “Stop it,” she said, still staring at her clay creation.

  “What do you mean, stop it?” Marilyn snarled.

  “I mean stop it. I don’t want to play this way, with you in control all the time.”

  “Well, then I’m not going to play,” Marilyn huffed.

  “Well, then don’t,” Jayze replied in a matching huff.

  Marilyn’s jaw dropped. She sat in Jayze lap, speechless. The two women sat staring at one another, not knowing what to say. Finally, Marilyn pushed herself off of the chair. She grabbed the arms of the chair, leaned over, and got in Jayze face. “Are you saying that you don’t want to be with me?” she said angrily, small sprays of spit landing on Jayze’ cheeks.

  Jayze put her hands on Marilyn’s chest and pushed her away. She felt uncharacteristically bold. “You’re a little too close, Marilyn. No, I’m not saying that. I’m saying I want it to be a bit more reciprocal.”

  “Reciprocal, how?” Marilyn asked, pushing against Jayze’ outstretched arms.

  “Reciprocal like you not trying to overpower me all the time like you’re doing right now. Back away from me, my arms can’t hold much longer.”

  Marilyn stood up, glaring ferociously. “Oooh, now that you’ve got a contract, you think you are better than me. Is that it?”

  Jayze stood up to face her. She was shorter by a couple of inches, but she held her ground. “No, more like I’m done being treated like shit and coddling you and your snarky moods all the time.”

  Marilyn’s voice took on a shrill pitch. “My snarky moods? My snarky moods?” Marilyn looked like a volcano about to blow. She hauled back her hand as if to slap Jayze.

  Jayze eyes flipped over to the lynx and back. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” she growled at Marilyn.

  The two stood poised like statues. Then, Marilyn dropped her hand and stomped out of the studio. When the door had slammed shut, Jayze inhaled a long breath. She was shaky but felt powerful…exultant, even. She walked over and picked up her iPhone off of the corner table. When Mano picked up on the other end, she said, “Mano, can I drop by? I just had an experience you wouldn’t believe. Yeah, it’s this darn lynx piece. I think it’s alive.” She laughed at Mano’s response. “Okay, buddy, I’ll be there in a few.” Hanging up the phone she uttered a “Thank you” to the clay beast and stepped out of the studio, locking the door firmly behind her.

  Chapter 25 – Cam

  When Cam walked in the door where Mark Myers worked, he saw Lightning Rod sitting in the foyer, filling out papers. A guy who must have been Mark Myers, looked up and put up a finger to Cam, indicating he’d be with him in a second. Cam nodded. “Hey, Lightning Rod, what are you doing here?” He reached out to shake the young man’s hand.

  Lightning Rod stood up and took Cam’s hand. A likeable young man, he was almost always smiling. “Oh, my mom got me an internship working with Mr. Myers. I’m going to be going on the next Wilderness Camp. I’m getting credit for a college course I am taking.”

  Cam brightened. He really liked Lightning Rod. “Are you? That’s great. I’m going to be on that same trip.”

  “Hey, that will be good, Cam. Don’t think I can keep the star dreamling off of you by myself though.” He shook his head and frowned. “That was some brutal energy.”

  Cam shuddered. “I’ll say. It was sick, that’s for sure.”

  “You alright? You look really good. I didn’t think you’d look so hot after what you went through.”

  “Yeah, I’m doing fine, thanks for asking. Got back together with my girlfriend and things are going well.”

  Lightning Rod smiled. “Yeah, I imagine that can take the sting off the dreamling stuff, huh? I just started dating a girl, too.”

  “How’s that going?” Cam asked.

  “Not too well. I think she wants me to be her little project. Like I’m a fixer upper instead of a move right in.” He laughed again. “Sorry for the real estate terms; my mom just started selling houses.”

  “That’s a tough market to be in right now. How’s she doing?”

  “Oh, she’s sold a house or two. She’s doing alright. It’s slow though.”

  “I imagine. Times are tough right now.” Cam looked up to see Mark waving him in. “Well, it’s good to see you, Lightning Rod. I’ll see you up in the mountains – again.”

  “Yeah, see you, Cam.”

  “Let’s not have it be so dramatic this time.”

  “Yeah, let’s not. I don’t think the college will give me extra credit for helping a guy fend off a star dreamling.” He chuckled. “I could try, though. It could maybe be one
of those extra-curricular projects.”

  “Huh,” said Cam. “You’re a funny guy.”

  “I can’t help it. My mom said I had a joke caught in my throat when I was born and that I keep letting it out, but it keeps getting stuck again. She’s funny, my mom.”

  “Sounds like it. Well, see you.”

  “Bye, Cam.”

  Cam walked into Mark Myers office and sat down in front of his desk.

  Mark stood up and extended his hand. “Cam? I’m Mark.” Then he walked around his desk and closed the door to the office. He looked of Hispanic descent, medium build, and wiry body type. His warm chocolate eyes were creased with laugh lines, and his hair was dusted with gray. He must’ve been in his 40s or early 50s.

  As he settled back at his desk, Cam thought that he liked the guy already. He seemed friendly, affable, and energetic – kind of like a terrier, Cam thought with a smile.

  Mark looked up at him. “It’s good to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you from James. We’re glad to have you be a part of the program.”

  “Thanks,” Cam replied.

  “We’re going to be going out on the troubled teen program – it’s called Divert. James thought that would be a good fit for you. Divert helps kids get a leg up with their problems. Most of the kids come from a bad environment at home; some come from single parent homes where the parent is trying, but just can’t manage everything. Some are dabbling in drugs and drinking. Most all are at a crossroads – it’s either one path or the other, and we prefer to send them down a more productive path.”

  “How do the kids get chosen for this camp?” Cam asked. “I worked with men who were court-ordered to participate, and I can’t say the motivation to change was there.”