Page 23 of It's You
“Abearbear?”
“We came across a black bear while we were walking. Jack put himself between me and the bear, then told me to run. I didn’t want to, but he insisted. I looked back after about four or five yards, and he and the bear were in a showdown, almost. The bear was mad, but not charging, and Jack wasn’t moving. Then he hissed something, and the bear took off into the woods like a shot.”
“What did he say to it?”
“I don’t know. It sounded like ‘Ship away,’ but I probably heard it wrong.”
“Ship away?” Willow looked up, eyes alert. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I think so. Who knows? I was freaked out. And his eyes were glowing.”
Willow shook her head quickly back and forth. “G-glowing, Darce?”
“It looked like it. But it was so sunny, and we were in Dooley Meadow.”
“Could have been the sun?”
“Could’ve been, I guess.”
Darcy took a deep breath, sipping her tea. It could’ve been the sun in his eyes. And heck, people who work in the circus or the zoo learn ways to soothe predatory animals. She wanted so badly to explain everything, to give it context and common sense and not be crazy. But she couldn’t explain her way out of hearing his thoughts or losing over an hour of her life, could she?
“Is that it?”
Darcy looked up and saw the worry Willow was trying to hide.
“No.” She swallowed another gulp of tea and took a deep breath. “I think I lost time.”
“You went inside? Again? After the time in the church?”
“No. I can’t explain it, but time went too fast. It went much faster than it should have.”
“I’m not following you.”
“Okay. There was the wedding. Then we went outside and had champagne. Then Jack and Amory came over. Then I decided to take a walk in the woods. We walked to the pond, where we stopped and talked, and through the meadow. Then I ran back to the reception and bumped into Vale.”
“Ugh.” Willow looked disgusted.
“Yeah, that was fun. He called Jack a half-breed snow frog from Queeb.”
Willow’s eyes widened in fury. Willow, who was a quarter Métis, French Canadian on her father’s side, and born in Quebec, shook her head. “Bigot! Ihatethe Proctors!”
“You and Jack have that in common.”
“Back up to ‘losing time.’”
“All of the activity I am describing to you should have taken about an hour. Maybe an hour and a half, tops. But the reception started at twelve o’clock, and it was almost three o’clock when I got back to the table. Why? How?”
“How many glasses of champagne did you have?”
Darcy thought back. “Three or four.”
Willow gave her a look. “Alcohol can impair our sense of time. Three or four glasses are quite a bit.”
“I wasn’t drunk, Will. I didn’t feel drunk at all.”
Willow sipped her tea. Darcy knew the wheels in her head were turning, but she wasn’t prepared for the worry in her friend’s eyes when she looked up again.
Willow sighed heavily. “I don’t like it, Darce. You know me. I’m smart enough to know that not everything can be explained. But…hearing voices? Losing time? Seeing things?”
