Haunting Helen (Book One in the Love Life Series)

by Anne Seaworthy

  “Don’t just stare!” Raygin cries, pushing through the crowd. “Do something!”

  A woman checks Helen’s pulse. “I mean, we can call 911, but she’s already dead, sweetie.” A disturbed murmur sweeps through the circle of people.

  Raygin steps forward. “Helen Jones saved my life,” she announces. “Now it’s my turn.” She peels the mangled body off the tracks and begins running in the direction of the hospital.

  I follow her. My heart feels like it might start pumping again, I’m so intensely scared.

  Raygin shoves her way past orderlies and nurses and heads straight for Robert’s office.

  He’s there, filling out a form. He stands. When he sees Raygin, he frowns. Then his eyes drop to the body in her arms.

  “She saved me from being run over, Doc Robbie,” Raygin croaks, smiling through tears. “I figured if anyone could fix her up it was you.”

  Robert calls in a bunch of specialists and they head to his operating room. Everyone but Helen’s lover is shaking their head sadly.

  One elderly doctor speaks up. “Dr. Longman, I know this is your fiancée, but she’s clearly beyond help.”

  “Well, we’ll try anyway.” Robert gazes at the doctor coldly. “We’re healers. It’s what we do.”

  Raygin stands awkwardly in the doorway as the doctors slowly work on Helen, repairing her layer by layer. I watch from the ceiling, fascinated to see the insides of the woman I find so intriguing on the outside. It’s like the ultimate invasion of her privacy. Of course, I’m a little worried too. I doubt she can be saved, though I saw no soul seep out of the body.

  Robert shoos the other doctors out as he begins sewing Helen’s skin back together.

  Raygin turns to leave as well, but Robert beckons her to him. She comes cautiously forward, staring at his hand wielding the needle. “I’m so sorry about this,” she begins. “It was all my fault.”

  Robert doesn’t look up from his task. “I’m sorry if I sent you mixed messages earlier,” he says. “I wasn’t myself the other day when I kissed you. I want you to know – since I’m not sure Helen will ever know – that I’m not the least bit in love with you.”

  Raygin hugs herself, looking down at the white polished floor.

  “But,” he continues, “you did your best to save Helen’s life. That’s more than most strangers would do. So from this moment forward, I love you more dearly than my dearest friends.”

  Raygin nods solemnly. “Thank you for your honesty,” she says. “And for your…friendship. I don’t expect anything more from you.”

  “Good, because you won’t get anything more.” He grins at her. He’s done sewing. Helen looks like Frankenstein’s bride. “Now all we can do is give her some fluids and wait.”

  Robert begins plugging tubes into Helen’s skin. He hands the last one to Raygin.

  She carefully sticks it in and smiles up at Robert. A tear runs down her cheek. “I’ll never try to hurt myself again.”

  Chapter Ten

  When Helen wakes up, Robert is still standing over the operating table. Her eyes flutter open, and I swear she’s the sexiest Frankenstein’s bride I’ve ever seen.

  “Robert?” she murmurs. “What happened?”

  “You were run over by a train.” He clenches his jaw as if simply stating that fact causes him physical pain.

  “But you saved me.” She carefully fingers the stitches on her forehead.

  “You could say that. But don’t worry, it doesn’t mean you have to marry me,” he says hurriedly. “I respect your decision.”

  “I am free to leave at any time. I always have been. But I’ve stayed. Because my heart is chained to yours, Robert. I can’t be happy without you.”

  “So, does this mean…?”

  “Do I have to spell it out for you? Yes, I will marry you.”

  Robert grins and then kisses her while trying to avoid all her wounds.

  She falls back on the operating table, exhausted.

  When her eyes are closed, I give Robert a high-five. In a messed-up, twisted way, my plan worked out after all.

  Chapter Eleven

  If I were alive, I’d say my life is a wreck. I guess my death is a wreck, now. I have no more crew, no more Lady Kate, so sometimes I gather just enough Dream to sustain a meager lifestyle and sell it in my own lonely corner of Ectopia. I have to fly myself to land and back.

  I’ve managed to keep myself away from the Beachside Apartments for two weeks when I realize the wedding is today. Now this I have to see. Maybe someone’s going to turn into a pterodactyl.

  The church by the sea cliffs is adorned with roses and red ribbons. The guests smile as the organ player cranks out a soulful melody. Robert stands on a pedestal at the front of the room, nervously adjusting his tie. The bride walks down the aisle in a flowing white dress, even more beautiful than she was in her Dream so long ago. Her skin shines in the warm light. When she reaches Robert, he lifts the veil off her face. The stitches are gone, and she’s as attractive as ever. Her lips glisten, red as the roses that seem to be everywhere.

  The couple takes their vows. I didn’t realize weddings were so long! Many of the guests are also getting fidgety. One elderly man is snoring. Jackpot! I didn’t expect to score any Dream on this adventure, but I squeeze in through his ear and take his rainbow orb of winning a basketball game.

  When I get out of Gramps, a schooner dissolves through the big bay window. The Lady Kate materializes and plunges down the steps just as Robert and Helen are kissing. Of course, I’m the only one in the audience who sees the disruption. She barrels toward me, and Harry reaches down for my arm. I take his hand, and he pulls me onto the deck.

  Tony takes off his cheap captain’s hat and throws it into the aisle. India touches my arm. This time, I let her. I could use some human contact right now.

  She says, “We’ve missed you so much.”

  Art comes forward and hugs me. Soon it’s a group hug, with all our ectoplasm melding together. We sail off through the window. We may not be going to New Hawaii, but I feel like I’m in Paradise.

  That night, I guide the ship to a new place. The Longmans have settled on a house in a suburb of LA. I tell the crew, “Suburbian Dream is higher quality due to the lower levels of air pollution in the area.” But really, I came to see one special woman. After all, I need to check that her injuries didn’t affect her brain, don’t I?

  She’s sleeping soundly in a king size bed with her husband.

  I sneak in her ear. A rainbow sphere hovers on the edge of her brain. I step inside.

  In the Dream, she’s at the rudder of a small sailboat in the middle of the ocean. All around is open water. The sun is high in the cloudless sky.

  She’s not alone. She’s cuddling with a man who looks somewhat preoccupied with adjusting the sails. At first I think it’s her husband, but when he turns around an extremely familiar face stares into my eyes.

  She’s Dreaming about me. And that’s enough.

  Acknowledgements

  This book would not have been possible without some help. I’d like to thank Alyssa Kress for editing and encouraging me. Karen Ronan deserves special recognition for creating a cover and formatting the manuscript. I also wish to acknowledge my high school English teacher, Ruth Magnuson, for telling me I was born to write. Some readers may disagree, but her words gave me confidence.