The Fade

by Demitria Lunetta

  “Okay. But no more secrets.”

  He nods.

  I have a thought. “Did Chris really almost die when he was born?”

  “He told you that?” He eyes me sideways. “No, that was me again. My cord. My death. My mom used to say it like my life was some kind of miracle. She doesn’t tell the story much anymore. Not since Emily disappeared. She’s stopped believing in miracles.”

  “I died when I was eight,” I blurt out. “I drowned in Lake Michigan. It was winter and the water was freezing cold. I was dead for almost nine minutes.”

  He snaps his head around to look at me. “Shit…do you remember anything?”

  “Not really. I woke up all cold and everyone was crying, so I got really scared.”

  “What about when you were in the water?” he asks, studying me.

  “You mean when I was actually dead?” I pause. “I don’t remember anything.”

  “There wasn’t a bright light?” Coop looks disappointed.

  “If there was, I don’t remember it. I just remember how horrible it was to puke up all the water and then how great it was to get all my parents’ attention when I was in the hospital. Even Shannon was nice to me.”

  “Well, I’m glad you didn’t die, then,” he tells me.

  “Me too. And I’m glad you’re here now,” I say honestly. “And, you know, that you didn’t die as a baby.”

  He laughs.

  “I wonder if dying and coming back to life is why we both can see ghosts,” I say.

  Before he can reply, a gruff voice shouts, “You shouldn’t be here!” An older man glares at us from across the yard.

  Coop stands, startled. “S-sorry,” he stammers.

  “It’s really none of your business who’s in my yard,” I tell the man. I recognize him suddenly as the man I’ve only seen through his window. Mr. Grant.

  “I’m getting my mom,” I call out, standing.

  “I’ll just go,” Coop says.

  “This is bull!” I say under my breath. Who is this man to say who can or can’t be in my yard?

  Coop is already walking away, and I jog to catch up with him. Mr. Grant is angrily staring after us. I’m going to have to get my mom to talk with him.

  “God, I hate living here,” Coop whispers. “But it’s not like we can move.”

  “Do your parents want to stay where Emily last was?”

  “No, it’s not that. Well, maybe my mom does, but I don’t think she’d put up a fight. My dad wants to get the hell out of here.”

  “So why don’t they?” I ask.

  “Do you know how little these houses sell for? Even years after the girls disappeared. Any house within a three-block radius is tainted. My parents could only get a fraction of what they paid. I heard my dad talking about it. We’d owe the bank so much money….”

  “Oh…I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “Yeah, so they have to trust that Chris won’t walk across the yard and go looking for ghosts. I mean, they don’t say ghosts. They call it his ‘imaginings,’ ” Coop says bitterly.

  I feel even worse for Chris than I did before. Maybe I’ll sketch him as a superhero or something. He might like that.

  “I’ll come over to your place,” I tell Coop. “That way Mr. Grant won’t bug you.”

  He has that confused look on his face again. “Can you?”

  “I don’t see why not. Like I said, my dad’s gone. He’s the one that…” I falter.

  “Doesn’t like me,” he finishes.

  I move past him, toward his house, but he stands there, looking slightly confused.

  “Okay, yeah.” He starts after me.

  “Coop! Where have you been?” Chris calls from their backyard. I wave to him, but he’s on a mission. “You said we would leave twenty minutes ago!”

  Coop turns. “Shit. I’m supposed to go to a Brewers game. My dad’s old cop buddies gave us some tickets. But I don’t have to go.”

  “And disappoint Chris? No way,” I tell him.

  Chris waves at me and I wave back. But he’s not looking at me; he’s looking past me. I check over my shoulder, but there’s nothing there.

  Coop goes to him and they have a whispered conversation. Then Chris heads back to the house.

  “He wasn’t waving at me, was he?” I ask Coop.

  “No…he said he was waving at Emily. Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”

  “No. Don’t change your plans. I’ll just come over later. Or tomorrow. Chris said you volunteer at the hospital….”

  “I do. But I’ll be home all day tomorrow.”

  “Great, it’s a date,” I say. And immediately regret my choice of words.

  Coop raises his eyebrows and I see a flash of his preconfession roguishness. “Definitely a date.” Maybe I don’t regret using those words.

  I’m glad Chris has something to focus on besides ghosts. I hope he and Coop have fun.

  I wish I could put away my worry, but I don’t have room for distraction. Not when the ghosts I live with are real.

  WHEN I GET inside, Mom is in the kitchen. She’s just sitting at the table, staring into space. All the things I talked about with Coop are jumbled up in my mind, but one thing sticks out suddenly.

  “Did you know that a girl went missing from this house?” I ask.

  Her head jerks up. “Well, hello, Mom. Good morning.”

  I sigh. “Hello, Mom. Good morning. Was this house so cheap because a girl was kidnapped and probably murdered here?”

  “Don’t be so subtle, Haley,” my mom tells me, rolling her eyes. “Yes, that’s why we could afford this house.”

  A shiver runs through me. “Aren’t you worried about what that means?”

  “What? That a long time ago bad things happened? We wouldn’t have moved you here if we thought there was still any danger. Those girls are gone, and so is whoever hurt them. Nothing has happened for years.” She studies me. “Why are you asking about this now?”

  My mom would never believe the truth.

  “I just…I’ve been talking with some of the neighbors.”

  “You haven’t been bothering that Mr. Grant, have you? Your dad went and talked to him after he called the police, and he swore that there was someone sneaking around in our yard.” She breaks into a smile. “Your dad said he was really grumpy, like it was our fault he saw something and called the cops.”

  “No, I wasn’t bothering Mr. Grant, but there’s definitely a problem. I was talking to Coop just now, and Mr. Grant just barged into our yard and told him to leave.”

  My mom makes a hmmm noise. “Wait, who were you talking with?”

  “Did you hear me?” I ask. My mom seems to have focused on the wrong part. “Mr. Grant doesn’t have a right to say who I can speak with. I’ve never even met him.”

  “Yes. I heard you. I’m just trying to get a sense of what actually happened.”

  “I’m telling you what happened,” I say, frustrated. “Can you just have a word with Mr. Grant and tell him to butt out?”

  “I’ll take care of it.” She waves her hand dismissively.

  “Thanks.” I hear footsteps upstairs, directly above us. I look up uneasily. “You hear that too, right?” I ask my mom.

  She raises her eyebrows. “Yes. I hear that. It’s your friends.”

  “What friends?”

  “Sera with an e and Josh.”

  “You could have told me sooner,” I say, my voice rising.

  “You wouldn’t let me get a word in…and besides, Shannon let them in while you were gone.”

  “I wasn’t gone. I was outside. And when did Shannon and Dad get home?”

  “Not that long ago. I was coming to get you when you barged in and started in with your questions and demands.”

&n
bsp; I take a deep breath and cut off my retort about how she clearly wasn’t coming to get me, sitting in the kitchen and staring at nothing. I take a few steps toward the stairs.

  “You know, it’s probably good that you give them some space.”

  “What?” I turn back toward her.

  “It’s just…with new friends. You don’t want to be too clingy. It’s off-putting.”

  “They’re in my room, Mom. I don’t think I’m being ‘clingy.’ ”

  “That Josh is really cute, by the way,” she says from where she sits.

  “Mom, he’s gay,” I call over my shoulder as I flee the kitchen. I can’t believe he voluntarily came into my house after what happened.

  “Still cute,” she yells back. “Those dimples!”

  I trudge up the stairs and into my room. Sera and Josh are sitting across from each other on my floor. “I didn’t know you were coming over.”

  “I can’t just leave it the way it is. We have to try again,” Sera says. “We have to make sure her soul is at rest.” A Ouija board is between them.

  “I can guarantee that no soul in this house is at rest,” I tell her. “But maybe we can figure out how to fix that.”

  “What have I let you talk me into?” Josh asks. “It’s like that time you said we should hitchhike to that concert in Chicago….”

  “That was an adventure,” Sera says defensively.

  “Yeah, until that pervert put his hand on your knee and you punched him and we almost all died in a car accident.”

  “What? That’s insane!” I say, taking a seat on the rug.

  “And the worst part is we were only six miles from home. We had to walk back the rest of the way and didn’t even make it to the show.”

  “Yeah, but our parents never found out.”

  “True,” he says, fiddling with the edges of the board.

  “Wait. I thought Ouija boards were for amateurs,” I tell them. I turn to Josh. “And I thought you were never setting foot in this house again.”

  “Can we just get this over with?” Josh says, not bothering to look at me. “This place gives me the major creeps.”

  “Welcome to my life,” I mutter.

  “Yeah, okay. I don’t know if this will work,” Sera says. “But it’s worth a try. I’m willing to try anything if it means helping Haley.”

  “Thanks, Sera,” I say, glad she’s in my corner.

  “Put your fingers on the planchette, lightly,” Sera instructs, and Josh obliges. “Haley?” she adds, and I follow suit, barely touching the plastic triangle. She closes her eyes, but I keep mine open. Hopefully I won’t black out and draw morbid pictures again.

  “Are you here?” Sera asks.

  The planchette stays completely still.

  Then I whisper, “Emily?” It shoots off and points at the YES. Fear jolts my body, but I try to stay calm. This is no worse than the rest of the things that have been happening, and isn’t nearly as horrible as during the storm.

  Josh, on the other hand, looks terrified. He jumps up, shaking his head. “That’s it. I’m out.”

  “But we’ve just started,” Sera tells his retreating form, but he’s already halfway to the door.

  “I’ll be in the car when you’re done. Pretending none of this ever happened.”

  Sera sighs. She looks deflated, so I say, “We can do this without him.”

  She takes a steely breath and places her hands back on the marker. I move directly across from her and mirror her.

  “What do you want?” she asks.

  Again a pause; then the marker is flying across the board. Sera calls out the letters. “T-O-L-I-V-E. To live?” Her eyes widen. “I thought…maybe you didn’t know you were dead. But I guess you do.” She raises her voice. “It’s not possible to live.” The planchette shoots to the middle of the board, flying out of the control of our fingers. It spins for several seconds before it stops.

  “It’s the wrong question,” I say quietly.

  Sera refocuses. “One more time.” We reposition our fingers. “How can I help you?”

  After a moment the words form: F-I-N-D-H-I-M.

  “Who?” Sera and I ask at the same time. But the marker spells the same thing over and over. Find him. Find him. Find him.

  “She doesn’t know,” I say. “She doesn’t know who killed her.” Maybe none of them know. Is this still Emily? Wait…

  The marker is moving again. G-G-G-R-A-N-T.

  “Holy shit,” I say. “My neighbor Mr. Grant. I was just talking about him with my mom. He seems psycho. He could have killed all those girls. And now he’s watching me.”

  Sera sits back. “Haley, I don’t know what to do.” She looks really scared. She’s so despondent. I get this feeling that she’s in her own little world. That she barely knows I’m here. I shake it off. It’s nothing. I’m just creeped out.

  “Don’t worry. You said serial killers have a type, and neither of us looks anything like those girls. My sister does….” Shit. Shannon. Should I warn her about all this? She’ll probably think I’m overreacting. “I shouldn’t be in any real danger,” I reason, though I’m not so sure.

  “What can I possibly do to help?” she asks. Her hands are shaking. I should have realized how frightened she is; I shouldn’t have assumed she could handle all this. Sera seemed so into ghosts—but that was the idea of ghosts, not the reality.

  “I’ll figure it out,” I tell her. “Look, Coop said he’d help me….” I know Coop is a sore spot, but I want to assure her we’re not alone.

  “You go calm down Josh. I’ll call you if anything happens. I promise.” But I’ve already decided to keep them out of it. My mother’s unsolicited advice kind of hit home. I don’t want to be clingy when it could put Sera and Josh in danger. Coop is already caught up in this. His sister is one of the dead girls, and he can see them too. He wants to help them for Emily’s sake. But Sera doesn’t need to be involved.

  “Leaving already?” Shannon asks from behind us. It’s probably just the Ouija board creep factor, but I swear her voice sounds eerie.

  Sera puts on a brave face. “Yeah…I just…It’s a lot.”

  Shannon nods knowingly, and I give her a questioning look. Why is she being so understanding when she has no idea what’s going on? The tall blond boy, the one from the park, walks up behind her and puts his arm around her. Oh, right. Trying to impress the new boyfriend.

  I walk Sera down the stairs and wave as she and Josh drive away. I take pains to avoid Shannon and her boyfriend on the way back to my room. I just don’t want to have to meet someone new right now, pretend that I care about Shannon’s love life, when I have a ton of really important stuff to deal with.

  I collapse on my bed and stare at the picture of Emily. I hope Coop will be enough to help me. I have to believe he can. I can’t live the rest of my life like this.

  SHE MANIPULATES HER world so easily.

  What she finds simple, we struggle with.

  That’s why we needed the boy.

  A go-between.

  Someone with a foot in both worlds.

  But she is here instead.

  And we do not know how to…

  We must find a way to…

  We will…

  …show her what we need.

  But what if she does not see?

  APPARENTLY, THE BOY Shannon met at the lake is her new soul mate. Blech. He also plays soccer for Madison and has his own car, so I know she’ll be hanging out with him all summer.

  Strangely for Mom, she takes the passive-aggressive route and complains to me about it, instead of talking with Shannon.

  “I know she’s technically an adult, but I don’t want her to jump into a relationship, especially when she’s starting college soon.”

  I nod. “Mom, why
don’t you just talk to her about it?”

  “I wish I could,” my mother mutters. When she catches my look, she adds, “The best way to make sure she does the opposite of what I want is to nag her about it.”

  “Is that parent psychology?” I ask. “Wait, you always nag me about things!”

  “Yeah, and where has that gotten me?” she asks, smiling.

  “Hey, I’m a great daughter. At least I’m not going to become a teenage bride to some hick I just met.”

  “Don’t even joke about that, Haley,” my mom says, acting horrified. “No…I have to stay out of it. I have no choice.”

  “Don’t worry, Mom. It’s Shannon; she’ll be fine,” I tell her.

  She sighs. “I agree. Shannon will be absolutely fine without me.”

  Talk about dramatic.

  Honestly, I don’t care either way, but at least spending time with her boyfriend will keep her out of the house and away from me. Unfortunately, he’s now one of the major topics of conversation, along with soccer and nutrition. When Shannon does finally remember I exist, she only comes into my room to talk about him. It’s not like we’re actually having a conversation; she just wants someone to listen to her expound on the wonderfulness that is Jim Garret. Double blech. Jim. Is there a more boring name?

  “Haley, you would really like him. He’s a lot like me,” she says, sitting down on my bed.

  “So what makes you think I’d like him?” I’m staring at my wall, trying to decide if I can just draw around the picture of Emily. I know the thought is disrespectful, but she’s taking up some prime real estate on my wall. At the very least I’m being selfish, but I want to be able to zone out and sketch something that doesn’t have to do with the Grabbed Girls of Gladwell. I huff and fold my arms across my chest, wanting to be alone, but Shannon doesn’t get the hint.

  “We just hit it off right away. I feel like I’ve known him my whole life.” She lets out a small, contented sigh.

  “Great…” I try to make my voice drip with sarcasm, but there’s no shaking Shannon. “You can be the weirdo in the freshman dorm that has a boyfriend already.” Shannon’s never had a serious boyfriend. She’s always been super focused on sports and working out. Not that there hasn’t been a ton of interest. Guys drool over her all the time. I’m just surprised she settled on one so fast.