She made a frustrated noise and slid off the hood. She passed right through the gate as if it wasn’t there. “I want to watch The Winter Soldier.”
“And I want to get a good night’s sleep. One of us is going to be disappointed tonight.”
The house was still dark and quiet when I slipped inside and carefully closed the door. Olivia followed me back into the den and sat on the coffee table while I reassembled my makeshift bed. I started to pull my shirt over my head and paused. “Are you planning to just sit there all night? I’m just going to bed.”
“Where else can I go?” she argued. “It’s the middle of the night.”
“The Hellburn Cemetery is a couple of miles that way,” I said tersely, pointing in the general direction of the TV. “Maybe you can make some new friends.” She blinked at me and then huddled herself tightly, looking miserable. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Tell me.”
For a moment, it looked as though she was going to refuse, but then she shuddered. “I don’t want to be by myself,” she said in a tiny voice. “I’m scared.”
“Scared?” That was the last thing I expected a ghost to say. “Of what?”
“Of – of everything!” She shook her head. “I was okay with dying. I was there with my family and it was peaceful and loving and I didn’t hurt too much. Now I’m – I’m this,” she plucked at her dress, “and I don’t know what’s going to happen to me.”
I sat down on the couch and rubbed my forehead wearily. “I’m sorry it turned out this way. We were just trying to help Dara.”
“I know. It’s just – I don’t want to be alone.” She looked over at me with hopeful eyes that were a lot bigger than I remembered.
I shook my head resignedly. Sleep was overrated anyway. “Fine, you can stay.” Her whole body literally brightened with her tentative smile. “If I put the movie on and turn the volume down really low, can you stay quiet?”
“Oh, yes, absolutely!” She clapped her hands but they didn’t make any sound.
I retrieved the DVD and turned on the TV, setting the volume all the way down to 1. Olivia perched eagerly on the edge of the coffee table, her fists clenched in excitement, as I inserted the disc into the player and hunted around for the remote. Olivia was sitting on it but she shifted over obediently at my gesture.
The usual logos and warnings flashed on the screen, filling the den with light, and I heard the barest whisper of the opening fanfare. I was certain Olivia was going to ask me to turn it up but she just sighed resignedly and leaned closer. Turning off the overhead light didn’t help much – the TV lit up the whole room all by itself – and I gave serious thought to relocating to the front room. I figured Olivia would just follow me, though, and she wouldn’t have anything to occupy herself there, so I was pretty much stuck where I was.
I waited until I was sure she was focused on the movie and quickly doffed my clothes and rolled myself up in the comforter. Olivia didn’t seem to notice as Chris Evans, a.k.a. Captain America, appeared on the screen and a heartfelt sigh escaped her. I just rolled my eyes and turned my back on her, wishing I had earplugs and an eye mask as I pulled the covers over my head.
Even at the lowest setting, the soundtrack was just loud enough to prevent my brain from shutting down, especially when the gunfire and explosions started. I did my best to distract myself and think sleepy thoughts but it was starting to look like I was going to have to wait until either the movie ended or Olivia fell asleep.
Do ghosts sleep? I wondered muzzily. I’d never heard of a sleeping ghost but then I’d never been a big fan of ghost stories. I supposed The Ghost Who Snored would be more annoying than scary. The Ghost Who Loved Captain America certainly was.
My thoughts decided to take a turn onto Self-Pity Lane. Why do these things keep happening to me? I went eighteen years without anything interesting happening and now all of a sudden I’ve had to deal with demons and witches and sorcerers and ghosts. What’s next? Unicorns and aliens? I just want to live a normal life.
That was a lie, of course, and I knew it. I missed the excitement of battling for my life and saving others from evil. The problem was, I was useless again. Without the magical powers Daraxandriel gave me to defeat Dr. Bellowes, I was just plain Peter Collins, high school student. There was no super-soldier serum to turn me into the Hellburn equivalent of Captain America. The only thing I could do now when disaster struck was call Mrs. Kendricks and hope she could figure something out. That just plain sucked.
My thoughts slowly drifted away after that, punctuated occasionally by whatever was going on in the movie. I might have actually dozed off at some point but if I did, it was a restless and unsatisfying sleep.
When I resurfaced, everything seemed quiet but my hopes that the show was finally over were shattered a moment later by the rapid patter of bullets. I heaved a sigh and rolled over, pulling the covers down to squint at the TV. Near as I could recall from the scene playing out there, the movie was only about two-thirds done, which probably meant it had another forty or fifty minutes to go.
It was a bit disconcerting to see part of the action showing through Olivia’s body, like I was peeking through someone’s curtains. Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes were in the middle of another over-the-top battle against the forces of evil, or maybe it was the forces of good this time. I had trouble keeping all the Avenger plots straight in my head.
Olivia sat cross-legged in the middle of the coffee table, staring at the screen in rapt attention. The table wasn’t designed to hold anything heavier than a plate of nachos and a few drinks but I supposed ghosts were basically weightless. I was frankly surprised she didn’t sink through it and I couldn’t help but wonder why horizontal surfaces held ghosts up but vertical ones couldn’t keep them out. Just one of life’s – or death’s – little mysteries, I mused.
I pulled the covers back up but the motion must have caught Olivia’s eye.
“Peter?” she called hesitantly. “That’s your name, isn’t it? Peter?”
“Yes,” I sighed. I uncovered my head again. “What do you need?”
“Oh, nothing, actually. I was just wondering if I woke you up. Sorry.” She ducked her head apologetically.
“No, you didn’t. Don’t worry about it. I’m a light sleeper,” I lied. There was no point in making her feel bad about the situation.
“Oh, good.” She looked me over doubtfully, chewing her lower lip. “This is your house, right? You live here?”
“Right.”
“Why don’t you have a proper bed, then?”
“I have a proper bed,” I sighed. “It’s infested with demons at the moment.”
“Oh, you mean the one with Lily – Lilith – and that other one? What was her name?”
“Dara.”
“Dara,” she echoed with a frown. “Why are there demons in your bed?”
“I ask myself that question a lot these days,” I told her sardonically. I sat up and leaned my head back against the back of the couch, wrapping the comforter around me. “It’s a long story.”
“Tell me,” she insisted. “I’d like to know.”
“What about your movie?” I nodded to the screen and she looked at it doubtfully. Chris Evans was doing Captain America things again.
“You can turn it off,” she offered but I could tell her heart wasn’t in it.
“No, I might as well watch the ending.” I leaned over for the TV remote and bumped the volume up a couple of notches before patting the couch beside me. Olivia joined me there with a grateful smile, tucking her legs up under the hem of her dress. I thought about sharing the comforter with her but I realized that it would just fall through her, so we sat there in quiet companionship as the plot surged on towards the dramatic climax.
Somewhere along the way, Olivia shifted closer to me and rested her head on my shoulder. I couldn’t feel a thing, of course, and I was almost afraid to breathe in case that shifted something into her body space. Sh
e didn’t seem to have any problems, though, and we sat like that all the way through the end-credit scenes. Finally, the DVD menu came up again and I carefully reached over to turn off the TV. The room went completely dark except for the power indicators and Olivia.
“Thank you, Peter,” she smiled. “That was fun.”
“You’re welcome. I really need to get some sleep now, though.”
“I know. I’m sorry, I’m being selfish.” She slipped off the couch and stood. “You go to sleep, I’ll just go for a walk or something.”
“You’re not tired?”
“No, not in the least. I guess ghosts don’t need to sleep,” she said ruefully. She hesitated and then leaned in suddenly and kissed me on the cheek.
“What’s that for?” I asked in surprise.
“For trying to help me,” she said shyly, “and for not being scared of me. I really appreciate it.” She moved towards the door and paused just in front of it. “Good night,” she said and then she walked through the door and vanished.
“Good night,” I said to the empty room. I sat there in the dark for the longest time, trying to sort through everything that happened to me over the last twenty-four hours, but it was a hopeless task. I finally lay down again and closed my eyes with a sigh. Everything will make sense tomorrow, I told myself optimistically, but I didn’t really believe it.
15
We live in a legalistic world. Nothing ever happens without a lawyer’s blessing on a piece of paper. A man’s word is his bond is just an old-fashioned sentiment now and the days of sealing a deal with a handshake are long gone. Trust and cooperation have been replaced with treaties and contracts.
As a consequence, sadly, litigation has pretty much replaced common sense. If the world doesn’t explicitly protect me from my own stupidity, it owes me money. Your honor, the restaurant failed to warn me that the hot coffee I ordered would be hot. The ladder manufacturer didn’t include a statement in the user manual that their product would fall over unless both legs are placed on solid ground. It’s not my fault I got sick from taking pills that weren’t prescribed to me for a problem they weren’t intended to treat.
So now we’re stuck having to hire lawyers to protect us from the very thing we hired lawyers to create in the first place. At least half of every product package is covered in dense legalese basically saying, Use that bowl of mush inside your skull for once, you dumbass. Unfortunately, it’s actually cheaper to pay off those dumbasses than go through the hassle of a trial, which means that nothing is going to change. I fear for our future.
“Peter!” Something tickled my cheek and I brushed it away, pulling the covers over my head. “Peter, wake up!”
“Hm?” I reluctantly pried my eyes open and found a pale, translucent face inches from mine. “Gah!” I jerked back, thumping my head on the armrest of the couch, and tried not to die from the heart attack Olivia just gave me. “What are you doing?” I complained, rubbing the back of my skull.
“There’s a girl in your back yard and she’s naked!” Olivia sounded completely discombobulated by her discovery.
I had a pretty good idea who it was but, given how things were going this week, I decided to be sure. “What does she look like?”
“What does she look like? She’s naked!”
“I got that part. Does she have any other distinguishing characteristics?”
“How many naked girls do you know?” she asked in dismay.
“More than my fair share,” I admitted with a sigh. “So what does this one look like?”
“Well,” she eyed me doubtfully, “she’s really skinny and she has long hair.”
“That’s Susie.”
“Who’s Susie?”
“My sister.”
“What?” Even though Olivia’s voice was still faint, it had a shrill edge to it that stabbed right through my skull. “Why is your sister running around naked?”
“It’s just something she does. What time is it?” I squinted at the clock on the DVR but Olivia was in the way and I couldn’t quite make out the numbers through her ectoplasm or whatever she was made of.
“I don’t know. What difference does it make?”
“Is it early morning?” It was dark in here but that didn’t mean much. The room didn’t have any windows.
“Yes, I suppose. What are you going to do about her?”
“Nothing. She does this every morning. It’s a witch thing.”
“Your sister’s a witch?”
I winced and massaged my forehead with my fingertips, trying to rub out the knot of pain forming there. “You don’t need to yell. Yes, she’s a witch. Yes, she runs around naked a lot. Haven’t you ever seen a naked girl before?”
“No! Well, me, I guess, but people shouldn’t be naked unless they’re taking a bath!”
“Feel free to talk her out of it. That would make Mom happy.” If Susie was out greeting the dawn, it was way too early for me to be awake. The odds of me getting back to sleep were virtually nil now, though. I sat up and palmed my eyes. “What did you do all night?”
“Nothing,” she said, looking dissatisfied.
“I thought you were going to go for a walk.”
“I tried. I could only get halfway down the block.”
“How come?”
She leaned over and tapped the Philosopher’s Stone. “This stupid thing kept pulling me back. It’s like being on a leash.”
“Oh, sorry,” I told her sincerely. “I didn’t know it would do that.”
“I’m not blaming you, I’m just frustrated. I can’t do anything!”
“Have you tried, you know, moving things? Mrs. Kendricks said you might be able to after a while.”
She flicked the Stone a couple of times with her finger but it stayed absolutely still. “Nothing,” she grumped.
“Well, keep trying. Once you can pick up a DVD, you can watch all the movies you want.”
She eyed me doubtfully. “Are you making fun of me?”
“No,” I sighed. “I’m just tired. Hopefully Mrs. Kendricks will figure something out soon.” Olivia made a face. “You don’t want her to?”
“It’s not that. It’s just, well, as soon as you figure out how to release me, I’m going straight to Hell. When I was really sick that didn’t sound so bad, but now that I’m actually dead, I don’t want to go.”
“You’re not going to Hell.”
“Yes, I am!” she insisted. “I signed Lily’s contract with my own blood! It’s unbreakable!”
I shook my head. “You wanted that money to help your family, not yourself. Selfless acts like that make the contract null and void. Lilith admitted that herself.”
“Really?” she gasped. “I’m not going to be tormented for all eternity?”
“Not in Hell, anyway,” I said dryly.
“That’s wonderful! Thank you!” She flung her arms around me and hugged me and I could have sworn I felt the slightest pressure, scarcely more than a feather’s touch. When she finally released me and sat back with a big smile, the her eyes seemed to be ever so slightly blue and the rest of her was faintly tinted, like very diluted watercolors.
“Olivia,” I asked hesitantly, “what color is your hair?”
“My hair?” she echoed, startled. “It used to be brown before it all fell out. Now everything’s just white.” She caught a strand of it between her finger and thumb and inspected it with a frown.
“It doesn’t look brown to you now?”
“Is it? I thought I was just seeing your couch through it.” She peered at the lock of hair as she twisted around, holding it in front of different objects. “Huh, that’s weird. It wasn’t like that before. Since when are ghosts in color?”
“Your eyes are definitely turning blue,” I told her, “and I think your dress is pink.”
“This isn’t a dress,” she said, looking down and flattening the front against her stomach. “It’s the nightgown I was wearing when I died. Am I going to be stuck wearing this for
ever?” she asked with a grimace. “That’s stupid.”
“I really don’t know how any of this works,” I admitted, “but my guess is that the colors are coming from the Stone. Maybe other people can see you now.”
“Oh, and maybe I can jump out at them and yell Boo!” She held up her hands with her fingers curled into claws. She saw the expression on my face and snorted a laugh. “I’m just kidding, I don’t want to scare anyone.” She sobered as she lowered her hands into her lap. “But I guess I will anyway. I’m a ghost.”
“You don’t scare me,” I assured her. “That’s not a challenge, by the way.” Her mouth quirked up in a smile. Her lips were beginning to turn pink as well. “I guess I might as well get up,” I sighed. “Dad and I have to run down to the police station in a couple of hours.”
“For a ticket, you mean?” she asked with a frown.
“No, just some paperwork. I start working there next week.”
“You’re a cop?” Her incredulous tone did nothing for my self-esteem.
“Just an intern for the summer,” I told her. I shrugged off the comforter and bent down to retrieve my clothes from the floor. Olivia gasped in shock and turned her back on me. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re – you’re in your underwear!” she squeaked.
“So? Haven’t you seen boys in their underwear before?”
“No! Well, Timmy,” she admitted, “but he’s just a kid.” She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye and then resolutely turned away again.
“What about on the Internet?” I asked curiously. “I know you were posting videos from your computer.”
“That doesn’t count!” she insisted. “Those were just pictures, not real life!”
“They’re pictures of real life,” I pointed out.
“That still doesn’t count!”
“If you say so.” I gathered up my things and headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” Olivia asked. She was trying very hard not to look at me.
“I need to take a shower and get some breakfast,” I told her. “You can stay here, I guess. Almost no one comes in here before noon.”
Soul Mates Page 18
