Once Dead, Twice Shy

by Kim Harrison

  Josh and I had agreed to text each other all night, and when his messages had stopped around two, I’d snuck out to make sure he was okay. He’d been sleeping, but now I was stiff, dew-wet, and in danger of being grounded anyway.

  I usually spent my dark hours, when everyone was sleeping, either on the Internet or on the roof with Barnabas, hammering my head against a wall, but the skills I’d developed sneaking out of my mom’s house were never left to go fallow for long. At least once a week I would escape to wander around in the dark, pretending I could evade Barnabas and boredom both.

  So when Josh’s text messages had stopped, it had been a no-brainer to sneak out. There had been no black wings circling his house, but leaving hadn’t sat well with me. I’d spent the rest of the night behind a tree talking to Grace, trying not to feel like a stalker. I didn’t like sneaking out or lying to my dad, but it wasn’t as if I had much of a choice.

  The neighbor’s dog barked at me, and I reached up behind the light fixture for the treat I’d put there last week, buying the golden retriever’s silence. Seeing the dog tail-wagging happy, I carefully stepped up onto the silver trash can—the one I religiously replaced exactly where I wanted it after trash pickup. Gripping the outside of the garage’s windowsill with one hand, I reached for the low roof with the other, swinging my foot up for purchase on the top of the window before throwing my other leg over to land stomach-down on the shingles. Pleased, I sat up, brushing the grit off as the dog panted at me, begging for more.

  “Still got it,” I whispered, smiling. It had been a stunt like this that had gotten me shipped up here to my dad’s house. It was that, my mom had said, or she was going to put bars on my windows.

  Hunched, I crab-walked to the peak of the garage roof, ignoring the lone black wing drifting aimlessly on the horizon. Easing down to my stomach, I peered over the top to find Mrs. Walsh sitting at her little kitchen table with curlers in her hair, reading the paper. “There you are, you old bat,” I whispered.

  I swear, the woman waited for me, itching to catch me at something. She reminded me of the bored, middle-aged women my mom made me be nice to over lunch in her attempts to raise money for whatever cause she was championing at the time. I kind of missed the formal teas, though, and the inevitable pre-tea battle over my newest hair color or temporary tattoo carefully placed to be seen while I was in my prissy-girl clothes. Seeing my mom dressed up in her perfumed best and being charming when I knew she wanted to throttle the tightfisted women for being so shortsighted had been a lot of fun. Maybe I was more like my mom than I thought.

  A smile quirked the corners of my lips as I lay on the roof, thinking of my mom. I had talked to her last night when she had called to check on me, her trouble-radar working even from Florida. I honestly didn’t know how she did it.

  Twisting onto my side, I wedged my fingers into my pocket and pulled out my phone. A little jolt of excitement went through me when I saw Josh’s text. He was up—which I knew already, having heard his alarm go off—and he would be here in half an hour. I shot off a C U, then punched speed-dial three. Seconds later, I heard a faint ring and Mrs. Walsh stood, vanishing deeper into the house. I couldn’t help my grin.

  The instant her back was turned, I closed the phone. Humming the music to Mission Impossible, I got to my feet and slid down the other side of the roof, easily making the hop to the roof over my room. Impatient, I wedged my screen back off the window and eased it to the carpet. Sitting on the sill, I took off my shoes and slipped inside. I couldn’t leave wet marks on the floor to give me away. I’d learned that the hard way after a midnight walk on the beach in Florida and my sandy rug turned into a week’s grounding.

  My smile faded at the familiar sounds of my dad’s shower and the smell of coffee.

  “Great,” I whispered, not knowing if my dad had looked in to make sure I’d gotten up before he hit the shower. I knew from experience that pillows under the comforter didn’t work, so I’d left my bed unmade, hoping he’d think I was in my bathroom. Worried, I replaced the screen with fumbling fingers. I should have trusted Grace, and left sooner.

  With nervous haste, I tugged my comforter up and tossed the pillows I’d shoved to the floor last night back on the bed. I hated getting home late. I was getting sloppy. I think my dad would have called me if he’d caught me sneaking out, but maybe not, wanting to see how much I’d dig myself into a lie before making me come clean. Though he was more easygoing than my mom, he had a devious streak in him. It was where I’d gotten it, I suppose.

  My mom’s picture on the mirror was smirking at me, and I turned it backward. Moving quickly, I stripped off yesterday’s clothes and jumped into my shower to get rid of the night’s chill. I had to get Kairos’s new amulet today. I didn’t have time to wait for Ron or Barnabas to rescue me. It was only a matter of time before Kairos tracked Josh or me down by process of elimination, and I couldn’t take another night like the one I’d just gone through. I honestly didn’t know how Barnabas or Grace did it.

  Refreshed by the quick splash-and-dash, I toweled off and threw on some clothes, picking a set of yellow tights to hide the slowly fading rug burn from the boat, a short purple skirt, and a matching top over a black tank top. My sneakers were still wet, but after drying off the bottoms, I put them on, wincing at the damp and wondering if my dad would notice. It wasn’t like I could wear something else. They were made for this outfit. And if Amy didn’t like it, she could choke on my individuality. This was who I was, and I was tired of trying to fit in. Besides, Josh liked my purple hair.

  Smug, I leaned across the bed and dragged my camera over. I still had five minutes or so before Josh got here. Time enough to send a picture to Wendy. She’d e-mailed me last night with a shot of her and my old boyfriend, taken on the beach at sunset. They looked good together, and after I got over my mad, I realized it was time to let go. I’d been trying to hold on to the way it had been, but I couldn’t. It was already gone. I was e-mailing the past, trying to make it my future, when my future was somewhere else. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t drive her mad with envy with my yellow tights.

  Standing, I tugged the wrinkles out of my skirt, hoping the day was going to be as warm as the skies predicted. Holding the camera in front of me, I found a martial arts pose, then shifted my hand until I was in the viewfinder, reflected in the mirror above my dresser. Annoyed, I set the camera down. My bed would be in the picture, and it was still a carefully contrived mess.

  Tidying it was easy, and I put the vampire teddy bear Wendy had given me in the place of honor between the lacy pillows my dad had thought I’d like. The room was nothing like the dark cave at my mom’s house. The white dresser decorated with rosebuds didn’t do it for me. Neither did the antique-looking comforter or the slew of lacy pillows that I threw off the bed every night to convince my dad that I was sleeping. The pale rose color of the walls was comforting, though, going well with the cream carpet. It was painfully obvious that my dad had forgotten I wasn’t six anymore and had filled the room with frilly pink-and-white girl stuff I’d shunned for years.

  My fingers that were arranging the pillows slowed as I realized my room was almost identical to my room before we had left. Sort of like the kitchen and the living room, all carrying whispers of my mother. He wasn’t letting go, either.

  My mood going introspective, I picked up the camera. It had hurt not seeing Wendy every day. We’d known each other since fifth grade, and she was probably the reason I’d never made it completely into the popular crowd, now that I thought about it. She was more oddball than me, but I’d refused to ditch her when I’d finally been invited in, trying to bring her along with me instead. Wendy had quietly stood by me with her environmentally conscious lunch tote and her political music blaring, knowing I was making a mistake but confident enough in herself to wait for me to realize it. Expecting to find another friend like her amid the Amys and Lens looked really slim. Josh, though, was turning out to be cool.

  The shutt
er clicked, and I dropped my arm and my smile both. I plugged the camera into my laptop. At least that had come with me from my mom’s and it was suitably dark and broody. The background was of my favorite alternative band. Wendy had introduced me to them, but to be honest, I liked the aggressive noise more than the message behind it.

  Immediately the picture uploaded, and I opened it to check out the resolution.

  My skin still retained its beach tan, which was weird, but I chalked it up to my not having a real body. The purple tips of my hair were starting to fade, though. It hadn’t grown at all since I died, and I wondered if I was going to look like this forever. My eyes went to my small chest, and I sighed. Not good. So not good. But then I looked closer at the picture, frowning.

  “Oh, crap,” I whispered, alarm icing through me. I could see my bed behind me. I mean, I could see through me to my bed. Scared, I looked at my hands. They looked solid to me, but the picture said different.

  “Oh, crap…” I stood in front of the mirror, fear making the memory of my heart pound. I looked okay there, too, but when I picked up my camera and looked at myself through the lens…

  “Oh, crap!” I said a third time. It wasn’t obvious, but there was a hint of shadow where the bed was, and even a shape of pillows.

  This was so not what I needed. Josh was ready to knock on my door to carry me off to battle the evil reaper master and steal his amulet. I didn’t have time to be substance challenged. Worried, I gripped my amulet and loosened my focus, trying to jump into that misty state I’d been in yesterday to check things out. Maybe I’d broken too many threads when I’d practiced going invisible? Maybe I’d begun an unraveling that I couldn’t fix? Grace had told me not to do it. But I’d never know if I didn’t stop shaking!

  My time spent with Barnabas on my roof learning to relax paid off, and slowly my pulse vanished. My teeth unclenched, and I found in my thoughts the hazy imagination of my life thread and the lacy spider-silk net joining it to the cosmos. Immediately the knot in my gut relaxed. The threads of connection were obvious, tying me to the present as the future slipped into the now. My thoughts were throwing out new threads as fast as the sun ticked across the sky, pulling me along with the rest of the world. I hadn’t broken anything.

  “Then why can I see through myself?” I whispered. Panic subsiding to concern, I pulled up my picture of my shoes on my laptop. I’d been in them at the time I’d taken the photo. Squinting, I looked again, but the little I could see of my ankles seemed normal. Relieved, I dumped both pictures into the trash and emptied it. Wendy would have to do without. No way was I ever going to let anyone take another picture of me.

  The sound of a vehicle coming up the quiet residential street made me lean out the window. A smile grew when I saw Josh’s old blue pickup. He was here. Finally.

  Scrambling, I unplugged my camera, grabbed my wallet, slapped my back pocket to make sure I had my phone, and started into the hall. Please, please, please don’t let my dad know I’ve been out this morning. This could all come to a nasty, screeching halt really fast.

  “Madison?” my dad’s voice echoed faintly. “Josh is here!”

  He sounded unbothered, and I exhaled. “Be right there!” I called as I flounced down the stairs in relief. My dad waited at the bottom beside the front door, looking casual in jeans and a lightweight shirt, smiling. I’d done it again, but just.

  “Don’t forget the printer,” he said, handing me a small camera case. “I put extra paper and ink in there,” he said as I looped the strap over my shoulder, feeling guilty. “Enough to take as many pictures as you want.”

  “Jeez, Dad,” I said as I looked inside. “How many pictures do you think people are going to want?” I wasn’t even going to be there. How was I going to explain not using any of this? But I had to confront Kairos now, disapproving Grace or not. If she really thought I was in danger, then she ought to go get Ron.

  “I know you,” my dad said. “When you get behind a camera, you can’t help yourself. Consider it my contribution. It’s tax deductible!” he said, his smile turning into a wide grin that made his long face seem to light up. “And I like your pictures,” he said, giving me a hug good-bye. “Everyone else will too. You look nice today. You were right. Purple is your color.” His expression went thoughtful, and he looked out at Josh’s truck. “You and Barnabas aren’t having trouble, are you?”

  I jerked to a stop. Oh, yeah. “Dad, I told you Barnabas and I are just friends.”

  “He hangs around an awful lot for being just a friend,” my dad warned.

  “Just a friend,” I said firmly. “And he knows it. I’m only spending the day with Josh. It’s not a big deal. If we’re lucky, Barnabas will show up, and we can do the fair together.”

  Nodding, he put a hand on my shoulder. “Sounds like you’ve got it under control,” he said, and I strangled what would have been a hysterical-sounding laugh. “Have fun today.”

  “I will,” I said, my worry and guilt rising. I could almost hear Grace singing about the girl who was a liar and fell into a fryer. “Thanks for the printer and everything.” I was such a bad daughter. But he’d known what he was getting when my mom shipped me up here—mostly.

  My dad followed me as far as the porch when Josh got out of his truck. “Hi, Mr. A.,” Josh said, waving. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, but I could see his gym bag shoved up against the back, window dressing for today’s performance, I guess.

  Scanning for black wings, I hurriedly got in his truck and slammed the door, anxious to leave. The Harley bell was glowing, and I leaned forward as I put my seat belt on. “Grace, do I look okay to you?” I asked, remembering my picture. “Am I thin? I mean, transparent?”

  The thrum of her wings grew obvious. “No,” she said, hovering before me. “Why?”

  I took a breath to tell her, then changed my mind when Josh opened his door. “Later.”

  Josh slid back in behind the wheel and looked askance at me as he shut his door. “Feeling guilty?” he teased, seeing my worry.

  Rolling my eyes, I grimaced. “Josh,” I said, trying to find a worldly air, “the stuff I’ve done when my mother thought I was sleeping would curl your hair.” He laughed and I added, “The first time I ran into Kairos, I died. I’m a little nervous, okay?” I wasn’t going to tell him I’d camped out beside his house last night after he fell asleep. The guy did have his pride.

  Josh looked over his shoulder and backed up into the street. “Sorry,” he said softly.

  He slowly accelerated toward town, and I waved bye to my dad standing on the porch. For crying out loud, could he be any more embarrassing? “Hey, thanks for texting this morning,” I said. “I saw a black wing around dawn. How about you?”

  “Nothing.” Frowning, he shoved his glasses up and made the turn to go to Rosewood Park. “I’m glad we had some breathing space, but we’ve got to get Kairos’s amulet this morning. I can’t take much more of Grace.”

  “Really?” I questioned, and the angel made a huff of sound.

  “I ran out of hot water in my shower last night, and I’m sure it was her,” he said. “The Internet wouldn’t work, either. And my brother kept stubbing his toe all freaking night. Madison, she’s driving me nuts.”

  From the Harley bell came a tinkling laughter. “Josh was going to cut his face with his razor if he tried to use it without a mirror, and his brother was going to do something naughty, so I broke the signal to the Internet. And every time he swore, I made him stub his toe.”

  I looked at the golden haze about the gently swaying bell. Josh had shaved? My lips pressed together as I remembered that stoplight crashing down. Clearly Grace didn’t mind causing chaos if it was less horrific than the trouble she imagined she was preventing. “Nothing happened last night, Grace,” I said to soothe her. “By noon, everything will be fine.” I thought of that picture and the black wings, and I took a deep breath I didn’t need. “Josh is okay, and he wouldn’t be if you hadn’t stayed with him. Don’t
you feel good about that?”

  “Ye-e-e-e-s,” she drawled, sounding too pleased with herself for my peace of mind. I looked across the truck to Josh as we bounced along. “She’s awfully smug,” I said in warning.

  “Great,” he said. “Grace,” he said, clearly more comfortable today talking to the air than he was when I left him last night. “It doesn’t matter if we get a flat tire on the way to the park, we’re still going to do this, only we’ll do it in the road instead of a nice quiet patch of ground where no one else will get hurt if things go wrong.”

  The bell swayed gently. “Nothing is wrong,” she almost purred.

  “I don’t like this,” I muttered. It was a feeling that grew the closer we got to the park and the more cars I saw. Some were even pulled onto the side of the road. Couples with kids were getting out, nervous from the traffic. Rosewood wasn’t that big a park. There was never a lot of activity there, even on a Saturday.

  “Uh, Madison?” Josh questioned as he pulled into the park and found himself in a line. A van tucked in behind him, and we were trapped. Josh inched forward to a woman wearing a school cap. She was obviously directing traffic, and everyone was stopping to talk to her.

  Grace started to laugh, and I realized what had happened. The event had been moved from Blue Diamond Park to here. Great. Just great. No wonder Grace was giggling.

  “Grace!” I yelled, and Josh shot me a look to be quiet as he rolled his window down. I didn’t have time for this! I had to face Kairos and get my life back!

  The woman with the hat peered at us in the sun. “Participant or attendee?” she asked.