Crossed Out (10 page)

“Stephanie, why don’t you go with your friend?” Dr. Anthony fished his keys out of his side pocket. “I’ll follow.”

I glanced at Dylan. I was still worried he wouldn’t want anything to do with me once this was all over.

“Sure.” He shrugged. “Why not?”

Relieved, I made my way to his truck. I opened the door and sand slid out, onto the asphalt. The familiar salty tang of Half Moon Bay made me sneeze. I was surprised his prized surfboard wasn’t in the back. Everyone knew about Dylan’s obsession with catching the next big wave, even if that meant driving the two plus hours to Santa Cruz fifty miles down Highway One.

Dylan waited for me while I swept a crumpled bag of Cheetos and a water bottle onto the truck floor.

We got back on the I-80. Silence filled the car.

Antsy to get to the site in time, I tapped my fingers against the window.

“Can you stop that?” Dylan complained. “It’s really annoying.”

Hesitantly, I looked at him and wished I hadn’t. His eyebrows were scrunched together into one intense line.

“Sorry.” I slid my fingers back onto my lap. “Oh, by the way, thanks for coming.”

“Well, I couldn’t exactly ditch you.” Dylan turned to face me. “Next time though, try to organize a … what did you call it? Oh, a rescue. Well, make sure your next one doesn’t fall on a school night, okay?”

I winced. “So, you still don’t believe.”

“Believe in what? Some weird thing you and the counselor do with crosses, or in this case, Muslim prayer beads?”

“Then why did you bother coming?”

“I’m curious, okay? And someone has to watch out for you. Why not me?”

He still didn’t believe. Once he saw the spirit go to Heaven, though, I seriously doubt he’d be much of a critic.

The airbase loomed ahead. Opaque and gloomy, the October fog reminded me of a scene in an old horror flick.

We drove through the empty airbase. The huge parking lot went on forever. Even in the dark, I could see strands of weeds breaking through the asphalt.

Dr. Anthony parked his car close to the barbed wire fence. Large empty canisters lay on their sides. Rust erased most of the bold lettering stamped on them. A line of oak trees soared in the background. The musky scent smelled like a wet dog. We parked behind.

“Okay, now what?” Dylan asked.

“We follow the counselor and pray he’s right.”

“All right. But I doubt anything will happen.”

“Never say never.” I opened my door. “I still think I can make a believer out of you.”

“Yeah, right.” Dylan slammed his door.

“Over here you two.” Dr. Anthony signaled us toward his opened trunk. He reached in and picked up the talisman wrapped in a soft blue cloth. “We need to hurry. Where is the murder site?”

“Up ahead.” I pointed north. “We have to go through that hole in the fence.” Up close, the gap looked even more menacing with the twisted wires poking out every which way.

“Careful,” Dr. Anthony warned.

Dylan snickered.

I kicked him. He really was getting on my nerves.

Dylan went first. He made his way through the opening in what seemed like a micro-minute.

Rubbing his hands together, he motioned me over. “What are you waiting for? Come on, let’s get this over with.”

“Okay, okay.” I climbed through, but in my haste to get out, a piece of the wire hooked my sweatshirt and scratched my stomach. I lifted my shirt for a quick look.
Yuck.
An ugly welt burned my skin.

Dylan’s face softened, and he put his hand on my shoulder. “You okay?” He leaned down and grimaced at my welt. “I might have something in my glove compartment to put on that.”

“No, really it’s okay. It’s the least of our worries. But thanks anyway.”

I turned away and watched Dr. Anthony. For an old guy, he climbed through the opening in a flash. Once inside, he brushed himself off. “Let’s go.”

Dylan gave me a mock bow. “After you.”

I ignored him and ran in front of the counselor. “Follow me,” I shouted over my shoulder.

Oak trees towered over us, clustered together with menacing effect. A lone owl flew overhead – his cries an angry accusation. I shivered, resisting the urge to turn back. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. I pushed my misgivings aside. I had to trust the counselor. I didn’t want to carry the guilt of being responsible for leaving a lost spirit to roam the earth.

We struggled up the hill and turned sharply right. Climbing over shrubbery, we finally saw the yellow and black caution tape. The only evidence of my failed rescue was the gaping hole where I’d placed my cross.

“Next time, Stephanie—” Dr. Anthony motioned to the tape, “—be more careful with the crime scenes. We don’t want our rescuer having to spend time explaining her reason for breaking the law.”

I scowled.
Why doesn’t he just tell me I’m a major screw-up?
So far the counselor wasn’t gaining any points in the popularity department.

He uncovered the wooden beam and took it out. The top seemed so plain. My hands itched to go home and grab some paints. But for some funny reason, I also felt plainness was right to address this woman’s spirit.

Dr. Anthony handed me the prayer beads, then he pushed the talisman next to the place where my cross had stood only an hour before. The wooden beam slid into the damp ground without protest. I placed the beads on the talisman.

Then we waited.

Dylan thrust his hands into his pockets, all the while whistling an annoying tune. I resisted the urge to smack him. He was bringing negative energy to this rescue.

I ignored the wet grass and sat back on my heels. I figured the spirit would probably reappear – thanks to Dr. Anthony – while giving me a scalding look, and waltz into the light. Add bells and trumpets announcing her arrival. Or knowing my luck, she’d rub it in my face that at least
someone
could do this job right … meaning I couldn’t.

A cold breeze blew out of nowhere, tossing the fallen leaves into a morbid dance.

Mid-whistle, Dylan sucked in his bottom lip. “
Sweet, Jesus.
Is that...?”

I smiled and let the talisman do its work. Relief tingled through me. Maybe everything would be all right after all.

A gust of air swept leaves, twigs, and grass into our path. Smiling, I let the wind embrace me.

Light shot out of the talisman, illuminating the whole grove with brightness. Nothing lay hidden. Each branch, leaf, and blade of grass shone.

“Crap.”
Dylan shielded his eyes. “What’s happening?”

“Thank God. It does work!” I punched Dylan. “And you didn’t believe me.”

“Chill, why don’t you?” Dylan rubbed his arm. “I never said that.”

“Well, who’s a believer now?”

“Don’t wig out. Aren’t we missing something? Like a spirit?”

Dylan was right. His words deflated my enthusiasm like a pin-pricked helium balloon.

I turned and faced the counselor. “What do we do? She’s not here.” I was growing more nervous with each passing moment.

“We wait.” Dr. Anthony glanced at his watch. His forehead wrinkled in concern. “Don’t worry, she’ll come.”

Then out of nowhere the air crackled with static. Hairs on the back of my neck rose up. A high pitched sound made the ground vibrate.

Dylan looked upward. “What the crap is that?”

Dr. Anthony and I also looked up.

A humongous colosseum-like building floated in the sky. Large lit-up towers jutted from each end. The mingling aroma of jasmine, musk, and cinnamon rained down on us like a heavenly shower. I felt as if I was witnessing some kind of cosmic ship coming to join us and all the while an unfamiliar, exotic tune floated from the structure that grew more solid with each moment.

“Man!”
Dylan’s mouth hung wide open. “I can’t believe this.”

My heart was doing its own version of ping-pong. In all my rescues, I’d never witnessed anything as big or bright as right now. Not even the weird experience I’d had back at Hillary’s house the other night – in which the woman’s spirit disappeared into a large box – compared with this.

“Didn’t I tell you strange stuff happens around me?” I touched Dylan’s shoulder. “Stick around, the fun hasn’t started yet.”

Within the grove, a patch of darkness crept toward us, leaving a murky mark on the heavenly experience. It grew larger the closer it came. A prickly sensation crept up the backs of my legs, which only meant one thing – the spirit had returned. I bit my bottom lip, refusing to scratch.

“Sweet Jesus,” Dylan whispered. “Is that a...?”

Stepping out of the trees, the woman revealed herself. I could see the airbase through her stomach.

“Why do you bother me?” Her voice sounded even deeper than before.

I resisted the urge to scream, ‘Look up, why don’t you?! Look what’s coming for you.’ I mean, couldn’t she see paradise was right above her?

Apparently not. She refused to even acknowledge the floating structure.

With one hand, she reached out and touched me. Her hand felt icy cold. I wanted to move, but couldn’t. My horror was mirrored in her eyes.

Dr. Anthony stepped toward the spirit – or what remained of her. “We’re here to help.”

Her face looked like one of those apples someone forgets about in the back of a locker and finds like a month later. Her features were wrinkly, gray, and overall gross. Also her light seemed dimmer as if her spirit-wattage was running out.

“Help?” When she saw the prayer beads, her one good eye snapped like a rubber band back into the putrid mess of her face.

“Yes,” Dr. Anthony said. “It’s time for you to go.” He pointed up.

“No.” She lowered her head. “I can never go there. After what I did....”

“Uh, excuse me,” I said. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but you didn’t blow your brains out.”

The woman touched her head. “What are you talking about? My brains, what?”

“You’re dead, okay. And if you don’t go to the light—” I pointed upward “—you’ll never be where you belong.”

“No, this is a dream. Leave me alone.”

“Jeez, she doesn’t know she’s dead,” Dylan muttered.

At that moment, a form emerged from the floating building. Little by little, the wisps gathered and formed another spirit.

An old woman appeared. A white scarf covered her head, blending into a long white dress. Her feet were bare.

“Sarah, come with me.”

The spirit grasped the other woman’s hands.

“Mother?”

With one hand she gently stroked her daughter’s face. “Yes, it’s time for you to leave.”

“But I can’t go. Rashad told me....”

“Thank God. God is wonderful. God is great.”

Taking her hand, the older woman glanced over her shoulder. “Shokran. Thank you,” she whispered. And with that, both women walked to a ghostly staircase, leading up to the building.

During this exchange, I glanced at Dylan. He shook his head as he backed away, muttering something under his breath.

I ignored him and let myself receive the sensation that flooded my body, one of peace and acceptance.

Another whoosh of air sucked the building and brightness into a vacuum. Darkness filled the area.

Wetness covered my cheeks. “Wasn’t that amazing?” I wiped away my tears.

“Man, I can’t deal with this.” Dylan shook his head. “It’s too much.” He pointed at Dr. Anthony. “What kind of crap are you bringing? And why are you involving Stephanie or me for that matter?”

Dr. Anthony cocked his head. “What did you see, Dylan?”

“See? Come on, man. Whatever that creature was she was one freaking color magnet. Too much. Man, I need some water.”

Water? He’d just seen a spirit go to paradise and he wanted water?

“Interesting.” Dr. Anthony folded the blue cloth. “I’ve heard of that. Does water really tune out auras?”

“Auras?” I scowled. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Apparently it helps dull the colors, right Dylan?”

“I gotta get out of here…now.” Dylan’s whole demeanor changed. Static energy crackled around him, causing his hair to stand on end. “Too much.”

“Dylan.” Dr. Anthony stepped toward him. “It’s nothing to be afraid of. Let’s discuss this. In my office later today, if—”

“No freakin’ way.” Dylan’s face changed. Panicky energy bounced off him. He’d seen something we hadn’t and it spooked him. Why couldn’t he confide in us? It’s not like we’d send him off to the funny farm.

“Dylan, come on. How much worse can it be? You know about me.”

“No way you’ll ever be like me.” Dylan pushed me aside and ran.

“Dylan!”

“Stephanie, let him go.” Dr. Anthony touched my shoulder. “He’s not ready yet.”

Would he ever be?

Chapter 16

Aquarius

Your horoscope for Monday

New possibilities are around the corner.

Though be careful. Some might stand in the way.

One of the things I dreaded almost as much as rescuing a spirit was attending the early morning Yearbook Committee meeting. It was held once a week, in the portable next to the parking lot.

Just my rotten luck I’d be late, so much for my horoscope reading this morning. The only new possibility I could think of was volunteering for the photo ops.

Mom wasn’t going to be happy with me if I dropped out. I really needed this extra curricular activity on my application for college. My nightly one so didn’t count.

Juggling my notebook, backpack, and a warm, chocolate Krispy Kreme donut, I glanced through the glass window on my class door.

Darn.
And double darn. No empty chairs in back. My earlier high from helping the dead woman fizzled into a bad stomachache. I wished others saw what I did. Or better yet, that I could have slept in a little longer.

I hated walking in late, knowing I’d have to catwalk past bitchy Hillary and her wannabes.

Yes, just my luck she’d be on the yearbook staff too.

I said a silent prayer, hoping they wouldn’t notice me. I didn’t need any more bad vibes. Dylan had done enough damage in that department.

I waited for the right moment to sneak into the room and sure enough it came. Mr. Johnson, our English  teacher and yearbook advisor, turned his back and wrote the writing assignments on the whiteboard.