Anna looked to the window, toward the peace she’d felt minutes earlier. Moon bathing. Geneva said that it helped her go “deeper” during mediation. And wasn’t mediation all about calming the mind? Geneva looked so peaceful when they burst into her bedroom to show her that Emi was working. She was meditating as the portal spew rained over her. Maybe the air around Geneva was brighter than the rest of the room, because only a small amount of portal spew fell onto her skin. Perhaps she’d created a protective barrier around herself.
Anna’s heart rate picked up a notch. She would try it. Why not? She’d tried everything else to reach her mother; she might as well try moon bathing, too.
With one hand gripping the top of the windowsill and the other holding her sheet, Anna stepped gingerly out onto the roof. The slant wasn’t very steep, but if she lost her footing she could tumble off. She shuffled forward a bit, the shingles brittle under her feet, and plopped down awkwardly on her butt. The full moon lit up the yard, even the shadowy spaces by the fence. Izzy the creeper was nowhere in sight. A grim smile crept across Anna’s face. He was probably holed up in his scuzzy room, hiding from Craig and immersed in his twisted perversions. She shimmied down the slant before laying back, her body cocooned in her sheet.
The large moon revealed the cotton ball detail of the drifting clouds and the greens and browns of the pine trees lining the perimeter of the backyard. The tops of the pines were a lot higher than when she and Freddy sat out there years ago playing the what-if game. Anna shifted on her back, trying to relax her neck and shoulders, sore from the constant tension of the last week. She found a comfortable position and allowed her body to relax.
Above her the wind played the pine needles like an instrument. How long had it been since she’d listened to the wind rustling through Old Bloomtown pines? Too long. She’d forgotten how peaceful it was, how mysterious.
But there were other sounds coming from inside her room: the humming of her laptop, the faint buzzing of the lightbulb in her lamp. Anna hadn’t realized that her laptop made noise, let alone a lightbulb, but there they were, as distracting as a circling fly. Anna sighed. If she didn’t chill out, this moon-bathing thing wouldn’t have a chance. The sheet was too cumbersome to lug back inside, so Anna climbed back through the window in her underwear and bra. She quickly powered down her laptop and switched off the lamp.
Once she’d settled back on the roof, there was only the moon, the warm wind and the swaying pines. Observe your thoughts but don’t attach to them, Geneva had said. Focus on your breath and not your thoughts; let them move on down the road. Anna closed her eyes, allowing the moonlight to saturate her skin. Despite her exposure, it felt safe and natural bathing in the gentle rays. She inhaled deeply, letting her belly expand, then blew the air out slowly. As the wind rustled the pine needles, Anna let her thoughts drift by like the puffy night clouds.
The more she simply watched her thoughts without letting them carry her away, the less power they had over her. Soon, the mind-chatter that she’d always identified as who she was began to feel like something else entirely—something desperate, manic and clawing. She tried not to think, tried to just be, and then finally stopped trying and relaxed into each moment. Time passed, and there was only her breath and the caress of moonlight on her skin. She was aware of each and every one of the fine hairs on her body as the wind gently tugged on them, sending a pleasant tingle over her skin.
The wind gusts blew stronger and the swaying trees serenaded her. It was a melodic whispering that grew in urgency and then receded in waves. And then, all at once, every nerve ending in her body seemed to extend into the night to meet the reaching branches of the trees, expanding outward in perfect union with the wind and stars.
Anna was experiencing her inherent connection to everything, flooded with the awareness that the world was hers to explore, and it had been all along. Was this the power they feared, the forgotten knowledge they had tried to crush? She laughed out loud. This power was impossible to destroy no matter what they did.
How could she ever have felt anything less than gratitude for her body? Desire welled within her, stronger, purer than ever before. She closed her eyes, wanting to experience every nuance of it without distraction. A face rose in her consciousness. Not Craig. It was Freddy.
Surprised, Anna’s eyelids fluttered open, her vision unfocused, and then there it was. There it was again. A floating white orb about the size of a basketball. The moon, of course, but it reminded her of something else. The intense vibrations that she’d felt in front of the mirror. Anna had felt them before, years earlier in the haunted cabin in the Poconos, when an orb of light appeared in the center of the room and illuminated the antique poker on the fireplace. And right before the light of Source disappeared, her ten-year-old self had yearned to fly into it as Mary’s spirit had, her teeth rattling as her body shook.
Witnessing that light as a child, her soul had recognized it for what it was: an opening, a gateway through the veil, a passage into Source. The vibrations she’d felt in that cabin that day were her soul preparing to leave her body! It was instinctual, perhaps, for a soul to begin to leave the body when witnessing the light of Source. The most natural thing in the world. All she had to do was let it happen. Anna was ready to try mirror gazing again.
She climbed back inside, feeling as sleek and graceful as a cat, and threw the sheet into her hamper. She reached for her lamp then changed her mind, allowing the moonlight to filter unpolluted through the window. Settling down in front of her mirror, what Anna saw before her—the same body, the same face—was now, for the first time in a long time, beautiful to her eyes. Geneva said that moon bathing renewed spiritual power, but Anna felt more than renewed, she felt supercharged.
Anna locked eyes with her reflection, and when the shaking returned she didn’t brace against it. She heard a faint chattering, distant and undecipherable. She focused on it and it grew louder. Go back to bed, dumbass. You think your dad’s crazy now? What do you think he’ll do if something happens to you?
Before doubt could poison her resolve, an image appeared in the mirror next to Anna’s face. It was vibrating at the same rate as Anna and was therefore still amid the blurred surroundings. It was a girl, her hair flowing around her regal face in dark, shiny waves, like the ocean under moonlight. It was Mary, her wounds gone, her eyes full of urgent compassion. The spirit spoke one word before dissipating—the same word Anna spoke to her years earlier.
“Go.”
Anna returned to her own gaze in the mirror. Even as the noise and pressure intensified, she stayed calm, although it was uncomfortable. It was like driving down the parkway in Major Tom when Freddy cracked his window. Anna would have to crack her window, too, in order to release the pressure. As the noise and pressure thundered in her ears, Anna relaxed into it, opened up. She vibrated faster and then faster still, until she couldn’t stop what was happening even if she wanted to. The plane was going to take off. Pop.
Chapter Nineteen
Out of Body
A girl in her underwear sat cross-legged on the carpet, her head hanging down between her slumped shoulders. Everything about this girl was fascinating: the way her skin folded in the creases of her bent knees and elbows, her rib cage rising and falling with her breath, the curve of her belly and breasts, the thickening of skin on the soles of her feet, the lines of her limbs, torso, and neck. The blood pulsing through her veins made her fair, almost translucent skin appear marbleized. There was so much to see.
It was possible to zoom in on one of the girl’s closed eyelids until her eyelashes resembled a network of massive black bridges that curved over a far horizon. But why stop there? Tunneling further down to a cavernous follicle at the base of a single lash, there was a cluster of microscopic mites. They had long, sectioned, eight-legged bodies covered with blue scales. One mite was half submerged inside the follicle, feeding, while the others huddled in the shadow of the giant eyelash, avoiding the moonlight. The mites had
a hissing focus on mating and territory. Although their language was alien, their joys, rivalries and fierce protectiveness of their young were palpable. Was it possible to zoom in further onto their armored skin and discover even more layers of life? Where would it end? Was there an end? Ha! It was like the what-if game.
Wait. The what-if game? In a great swoosh of images and sensations, the memories came of her and Freddy as kids, lying on the slant of roof outside her bedroom window. That’s right! She had an identity. She was Anna Fagan, also known as Goblin Girl. What was she doing staring at a bunch of microscopic mites on someone’s eyelash? Her awareness expanded outward in great swaths of rushing space, further and further from the mites to the cluster of giant bridge-like eyelashes, until she once again hovered above the body of the girl. A realization rippled through Anna—the girl on the floor was her.
Anna was floating above her physical body, yet she still had a body, kind of, made of soft lavender light. She lifted her hand and examined the luminous quality of her “skin.” It was blissful, this freedom from her body’s cumbersome weight, cravings and aches, liked she’d sloughed off an uncomfortable costume. But why wasn’t she freaking out? Instead, she was serene but intensely curious, almost aggressively curious—like how she imagined a large, burly man might feel, at ease in every instance, as if fearlessness was a birthright.
From outside came a sharp sound—a burst of excited affection. An unmistakable bark. Penelope!
Anna shot through the roof in a blur of dark wood and pink insulation. She hovered high over the tree line, below her a quilt of houses and streets. The pale bulbous tank of a water tower loomed in the east. Anna floated in the air, enveloped by the most beautiful music she’d ever heard. The melodic whispering of the pine needles was now a grand, complex orchestra. The music flowed through her light-body, caressing her. Who knew such a beautiful sound was even possible? And she was part of it, that symphony, a clear note, distinct and essential to the arrangement. She could have stayed there forever, an obedient and content musician. But then another bark caught her attention. That’s right! Penelope!
Penelope, in a body of faint purple light, stood in the backyard where her doghouse used to be, her tail slicing through the air. Anna dropped toward the lawn and descended into soil alive with languid worms and roots sucking water from the earth. The sounds and sights were fascinating, but she needed to be above ground. Pop. She was in a forest of grass. Each blade sparkled with energy and a sound like the gentle chords of a violin, fluid and soothing.
She floated several feet above the lawn just as Peeps jumped into the air to meet her. They blew into each other, intermingling their purple light bodies. Anna felt Penelope’s buoyant love for her and the dog’s exasperation over Anna’s grief. She laughed with relief. She’d been so silly. Penelope was fine. Penelope was perfect! They stayed together, playing and cuddling their light bodies, until a squirrel ran down the trunk of a nearby tree. Penelope scampered after it and then darted away in a blur, chasing something unseen through a neighbor’s backyard.
Peeps was clearly adept at maneuvering in this astral realm. Anna, however, needed practice. Now the only question was, who would she visit first, Dor or Freddy? She was closer to Dor’s, so maybe she should—Pop.
Whoa. There were walls around her, a drastic change of light, air and color. She was indoors. Disorientated, Anna spun around, although it was unnecessary. She could see in every direction at once with no body (or eyes) to narrow her field of vision. Anna was in Dor’s bedroom. Doreen sat on her bed, a pill bottle in her hands, her eyes swollen from too many tears. Alarm rippled through Anna’s light-body. Doreen was smoldering. Puffs of smoke rose from her friend’s head and chest. Anna hovered in front of Dor’s face and called her name, but Dor couldn’t see or hear her. I’m a ghost, Anna thought. An earthbound soul outside my body. She tried to touch Doreen, but Anna’s translucent “hand” traveled right through her friend’s arm. A puff of smoke penetrated Anna’s light-body, and she was engulfed by despair and hopelessness. It wasn’t smoke but pain that billowed from her friend. Without a barrier between them, Anna felt the full brunt of Doreen’s powerful negative emotions. A part of Anna wanted to pop away from Doreen’s suffering but she stayed put, wanting to help but not knowing how. Dor, what happened?
A screech came from downstairs. “Reenie!” It was Doreen’s mom, Cindy. “Get my pills!”
Doreen yelled toward the open door. “I already gave them to you!”
Pop. Downstairs in Doreen’s living room, Cindy’s face was scarlet. Veins bulged in her temples and neck as she sank back into the couch. The living room was thick with portal spew. A murky gray mist shot up through the couch and scattered into the air. Anna popped under the couch just as fresh blood seeped from the cushion to the floor; it joined a pool of dried and drying blood in the center of an electromagnetic hair ball underneath the couch. Anna could see portals! As surprising at that was, she kept her focus on Doreen’s mom. Cindy was infected in more ways than one. The blood must be oozing from the surgical wound on Cindy’s back.
Anna popped out from under the couch and hovered above Cindy. Gray mist shot up through Cindy’s body and then rained back down on her like nuclear fallout. The portal mist was harmless to Anna while out of body, but the puffs of rage and pain emanating from Cindy went through her light-body like barbed wire. Anna grit her teeth as the intensity of Cindy’s self-loathing washed through her.
“Did you hear what I said? Get the goddamn pills! All of them!” Cindy bellowed.
Anna retreated to the corner of the living room, wanting to be far from Cindy and her pain.
“You useless little bitch,” Cindy hissed. “I wish I never had you!”
Remorse rippled through Anna. Dor had been dealing with this alone because Anna was too absorbed in her own self-pity to give a damn. She’d always leaned on Dor and given little back, even before the portals. Going out of body was about more than trying to find her mother, Anna could see that now. Her own failings were being revealed.
Doreen walked into the living room from the stairs, her face a ghost of innocence, pain ballooning out of her. She approached the couch and looked down at her mother.
“I won’t do it.”
“It's over,” Cindy said. “There’s nothing left for me.”
“What about me?” Doreen asked.
“You are your father’s problem now.”
“I'm going to call somebody,” Doreen said, her voice cracking.
“Call them after,” Cindy said. “You ruined my life. You know that, don’t you? You are going to do this for me. This one goddamn thing!”
Defeated, Doreen walked into the kitchen. Anna followed, watching helplessly as Doreen placed the pill bottle on the countertop, the pain coming off her in a thick fog of energetic sludge. Doreen opened a cabinet, took out a ceramic bowl and masher, and placed them on the counter. She tipped the pill bottle, and three white pills made soft clinks as they fell inside the bowl. The bottle tipped again and four more pills clinked.
No. Anna surrounded Dor with her light-body, wrapped it around and through her friend. Dor, you gotta wait for me. I’m coming. But Doreen couldn’t hear her. The intensity of Doreen’s pain was too heavy for Anna to bear much longer. She concentrated on looking through the clouds of pain to the skin on Doreen’s neck. There was a slight crackle, an electrical charge, coming from Doreen’s skin. Anna drew from it, inhaling it with her light-body, and then she screamed, IT’S ME, IT’S ANNA. HOLD ON, DOR, I’M COMING.
Doreen jumped back from the counter, slapping at herself as if she’d walked through a cobweb. The bowl fell off the counter, cracking in two, and white pills scattered across the floor. Anna rose to the ceiling, exhausted from her efforts. Doreen ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs, ignoring her mother’s vicious barbs. Her bedroom door slammed.
Anna floated near the refrigerator, gathering her strength. She’d made contact with Doreen, scared the bejeezus out of her in t
he process; but her friend had snapped out of her dark trance, safe for the moment.
To do any more for Dor and Cindy, Anna needed to get back inside her own body. As soon as she did, she’d go to Freddy’s, and the two of them would—pop.
Freddy slept in his bed. Anna had popped into his bedroom without meaning to. This out-of-body thing really took some getting used to. She drifted over him, basking in the moon rays from his window as they passed through her light-body. She could look at him now without the strange charge between them that had kept their eye contact short over the last year. His hands were clasped on his stomach, rising and falling with his long breaths. His eyes moved back and forth under his closed lids. Freddy was dreaming. Anna dropped closer to him and saw gray mist dampening the glow of his skin.
Anna spun, looking for the portal. It was in the back of the closet, a tangle of electromagnetic wires whipping out the vile mist. So there was a portal in Freddy’s room. The demon must have been there, masquerading as Bloomtown’s friendly real estate agent. Damn it. Freddy had said something about his mom renting out his room. Why didn’t she pay attention?
Anna scanned the room, searching for more portals. But there was nothing, only Freddy’s bookshelves casting long moon shadows on the floor. Frightened, Anna flew to the ceiling. They were only shadows, but they reminded her of something.
The dream. The nightmare about everyone she loved burning alive at the picnic table, their shadows stretching toward her as if they were entities unto themselves, desperate to grab her. Anna felt her light-body contract and expand as she made the connection. The dream was her intuition’s way of trying to tell her something important, trying to grab her attention. Shadows stretching, unnaturally long and skinny. What did it mean?
Of course. A shadow person was in the Fagan house on the morning that Saul made an unannounced visit. Anna had spit holy water on it accidentally and it evaporated. Something about that small incident nagged at her. But what was it? She’d think about it. Right now, getting Freddy out of his room and away from the portal was more important. Anna had to wake him up somehow, get inside his head. Pop.
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