Spirits of Spring (The Haunting Ruby Series Book 4)

by Joy Elbel

  Instead of her usual drama, I found an inquisitive ally. She barely wanted to talk about the upcoming car wash at all. My “resurrecting powers” weren’t even the main topic of interest.

  “There isn’t a girl in this school—myself included—who would have said no to a date with him. Aside from his sister, of course. And everyone pretty much already knows that his fling with Chloe was just to make you jealous. Zach was a notorious flirt but he was never really interested in anyone until he met you so there must be something special about you. So what’s it like dating Charlotte’s Grove’s most eligible bachelor?”

  She said it with such honesty that I answered her question and then some. Without sharing intimate details, I told her about some of the nice things Zach had done for me, places he would take me. While part of me felt sad for referring to him in the past tense as though he were already dead and gone, part of me just enjoyed talking about him. I rambled on about him and about our relationship until the bell for first period rang. I realized then that even if he did die, I already had what felt like a lifetime of memories to cherish. I also realized something else—Brooke wasn’t so bad after all. She offered to handle all of the fundraising efforts by herself—without letting Mr. Raspatello know about it—as a way to apologize for the way she’d treated me. I happily accepted.

  Like every one since the shooting, the day was a series of up and down moments for me. Everything I saw and heard reminded me of Zach in some way. French class delivered the hardest blow. As we took turns reading aloud and then translating what we’d read into English, I came across a phrase I was unfamiliar with.

  “Tu me manque,” I read and then gave what I thought would be the English equivalent even though it made no real sense to me. “You are missing from me.”

  “Almost, Ruby,” corrected Madame Ross, “But the best translation would be ‘I miss you.’” You are missing from me. That was exactly how I would describe my situation with Zach. He wasn’t gone completely but he wasn’t here with me, either. I began to cry and asked to be excused. The bell for the next period rang while I was still pulling myself together. Today was a terrible mistake. I wasn’t ready to live again yet.

  That afternoon, I had zero urge to care about the track meet, or Misty, or what Misty might do to me during the track meet. I slugged across the finish line last during the one hundred meter dash and plopped down onto the bleachers without caring.

  “Have I ever told you before that you run like a girl?” Clay. It was weird now that we weren’t attached to each other. I never knew when or where he was going to pop in on me but like now, his presence was never unwelcome.

  “I vaguely remember hearing that once or twice before,” I said with a weak smile. “But I don’t really care anymore.”

  “Aw, come on, Ruby! You can do it—I know you can!”

  “No, I can’t. And I really don’t care to try, either.” When I was little I hated peas and refused to eat them every time my dad put them on my plate. One day, he got a very sad look on his face and told me that I was making the peas very sad by not eating them. He told me that every pea grew up with only one wish—to be eaten, not to be thrown away. But that since all they could do was lie on the plate and look cute, they counted on little girls like me to help them get their wish. From that day on, I ate my peas without having to be forced. Clay gave me the same look as my dad did that day. I had a feeling I was about to swallow a whole plateful of proverbial peas.

  “Do it for Zach, Ruby. You know that he would want you to keep going and not give up. He still loves you. He just can’t tell you that himself. He’s counting on you to feel it and be strong for both of your sakes.

  I tried to fight it. I tried to push those peas as far across the table from me as I could get them. But they wouldn’t stop staring at me with those innocent little pea faces. “Why should I? He isn’t doing anything for me. He isn’t fighting for me!”

  Clay’s eyes were almost as irresistible as Zach’s were when he said, “You don’t know that, Ruby. You don’t know what kind of battle he’s facing or how hard he’s fighting. Don’t give up.”

  Oh, quick somebody hand me a spoon—I have to eat every pea on that plate. Now. Coach Hunter called for us to get into position for the relay and I practically flew to my mark. As I passed Jordyn, she gave me a head nod and said, “You got this one, Ruby!”

  And we did. Perfect form, top speed. Clay ran beside me, motivating me the whole way to the finish line. At the end of the day, Coach Hunter informed us that we broke the school record in that event by a mere tenth of a second. I did have this after all.

  37. Conventional Wisdom

  As the days rolled by, it felt more and more like Zach was gone forever. Some days I was strong, some days I wasn’t. Some days all I wanted to do was talk about him. Other days I couldn’t even speak his name. I did everything I could think of to try to coax him back to consciousness but to no avail. Soon, my efforts became more for me and less for him.

  I started spending time at the shelter taking care of the animals he loved so much. It made me feel closer to him in a weird way. I even offered to help Andy with the dog show that Zach had planned. Andy was grateful for the help and I wasn’t even bitter when Mrs. Tuttle’s Shih Tzu, Mandy, took first prize.

  Zach’s parents spent a lot of time at the hospital with him and I got to know each of them a lot better than I already did. They both shared things with me that they felt they couldn’t share with the other members of the family. Garrett was taking it the hardest. Once he saw that he could lose his only son, he regretted the things he’d said and how he’d punished Zach for what happened in the past. But even that didn’t wake Zach up.

  One Friday night, I went home with Rachel after school. I wanted to spend some time in Zach’s room, surrounded by all of the things that he loved. Even their dogs seemed sad. Sadie and Sequoia may not have known what was going on but they undeniably sensed his absence. When I went into Zach’s room, Sequoia padded in softly behind me and lay down on the floor beside Zach’s bed.

  His room was untouched. The clothes he was wearing in the few days before the accident were still in a heap on the floor, unwashed. His math book lay on his desk, his homework still half finished. The only thing that looked out of place to me was his drum set. Though a few weeks’ worth of dust had settled on them since, it was clear that he had dusted them off recently. The cymbals were shinier than I remembered them being and I found a small can of polish lying on the stool beside his drumsticks. He may not have been playing recently but he was definitely thinking about it.

  I set the can of polish on the floor, picked up the sticks, and sat down. I tried to imagine how he felt when he sat in this spot. What kind of joy did this bring him? What kind of sorrow? Delicately, I tapped the cymbal and listened to its response. Then, I did the same to one of the drums. He had talents I’d never gotten to experience. Why couldn’t I have gotten to hear him play?

  After a few frustrated taps on the foot pedal, I decided to lie down on his bed for a minute. The last time I was there, things were so much different. Zach was with me and we were both happy. Now, I was alone. Well, almost alone.

  As if on cue, Sequoia sat up on his haunches and placed his front paws across my chest. He looked into my eyes and began to whimper. He felt my grief and empathized with me. Grieving the still living was much harder than grieving the dead. I patted him on the head and started to cry. I didn’t want Zach to die but it was hard to watch him not live, too. Every morning I woke up hopeful. Every evening I fell asleep disappointed. How long was this going to continue? I was torn between two conflicting schools of thought. If he loved me, he would wake up. But if I loved him, I should be willing to wait.

  So waiting is what I did. I waited yet tried to go on with my life at the same time. I required constant reminders of things I needed to do—time wasn’t moving in my head but the calendar said otherwise. Two very big events were just around the corner but I’d forgotten about
them entirely—the paranormal convention I promised Rita I would attend and prom. I was dreading one and excited for the other but opposite of the way you would expect.

  When I vehemently declared that I wasn’t going to the prom, Shelly and I got into a huge argument. I said I wasn’t going without a date. She said that I would someday regret that decision. We battled back and forth over the issue until I finally agreed to at least go pick up the dress I’d bought. It would make a fine addition to the collection of things that reminded me of Zach and made me cry. I could always use another one of those. Insert giant eye roll here. The dress was gorgeous but it was going somewhere where I would never have to see it again.

  The convention was an entirely different story. I was anxious to spend time in a roomful of people who didn’t think I was weird. As a matter of fact, I was certain that I would be less weird than most of the other people there. Plus, the convention was in Ohio and only thirty miles from where Sophie’s family lived. Clay was going with us. Rita knew about our little side venture—Clay did not. I didn’t want to get his hopes up just in case.

  Rita posted a sign in the front window of Something Wick-ed stating that it would be closed for the day then the three of us set out for Ohio. We left super early so that we could make a quick pit stop in Pittsburgh first. Rita wanted to pick up a few new ghost hunting supplies at an electronics store there before the convention so that she could get some advice from her colleagues on how best to use them. (Un)lucky for me, the store where I got my prom dress was in the same shopping center so Shelly asked Rita to make sure that I picked it up while we were there.

  We couldn’t spend a lot of time in Pittsburgh so we split up to get everything we needed to do done faster. Clay wanted to go with Rita to look at gadgets but I forced him to go with me, instead. If I had to be miserable, so did he. I walked up to the counter and told the cashier what I was there for. The girl returned a minute later with a dress. Not my dress, but a dress. A green one.

  When she proudly handed it to me and asked me to try it on to be sure it fit, I proudly handed it back. “That’s not the dress I bought. Mine was red.”

  She inspected the tag and read aloud, “Matthews, Ruby, correct?” “Yes, that’s correct but the dress certainly isn’t. The tags must have gotten switched or something. Mine was red,” I stated again.

  With a look of confusion, she disappeared into the back room again. When she didn’t emerge right away with the correct dress, I knew something was wrong. Ten minutes later, the store manager appeared and began to apologize profusely.

  “I’m so sorry but there seems to have been a terrible mix up. The tag clearly says that your dress should be red but there aren’t any red ones anywhere in the back. It appears that this one has been altered to your measurements, though. I don’t know what happened but I do apologize for the inconvenience. Would you like to try this one on?”

  No, I definitely wouldn’t but I didn’t know what else to do. Shelly would never believe me if I told her the truth—she would assume I was lying to get out of going to prom. Now I not only had to go dateless but in the ugly green dress that she tried to get me to buy in the first place. I was going to have a miserable time there anyway, what did it even matter what I was wearing or how well it fit? It didn’t matter one little bit.

  “Just give me the stupid dress,” I said with a sigh. Since it was their mistake, the manager refunded half of what we’d paid for the original dress and let me pick out a new pair of shoes. I took the only silver pair they had in my size and stomped out the door. Clay tried to make me feel better by telling me how beautiful I looked in it when Shelly had me try it on, but I wasn’t buying it. It was green, for heaven’s sake!

  Once we were back on the road, Rita was all aflutter about her new equipment and how excited she was that I decided to join her at the convention. I was in a bad mood and less than ecstatic courtesy of the mermaid costume in the backseat, but I tried not to let it show. She’d been looking forward to this day for months and I didn’t want to ruin it for her.

  When we got to the Ohio border, Rita stopped talking about her equipment and started talking about wraiths. “I will give the presentation on wraiths because I know you don’t want to, Ruby, but if you change your mind, let me know. Everyone I’ve talked to so far is saying it’s the one they are most eager to listen to.”

  I still found it inconceivable that I had more experience in one realm of the supernatural than anyone else in recorded ghost hunting history. It was unfathomable actually. Unlike me, those people chose to hunt ghosts. While it was just a side project for Rita, some of the people I would meet today made it their career. Rachel was quite impressed when I told her that the team from Ghost Stalkers would be there today. I was not.

  “That’s okay—you can take the spotlight. I neither want nor need it.” When we pulled into the Hastings Convention Center, I immediately saw that this wasn’t going to be anything like I expected it to be. There wasn’t a single weirdo in a tin foil hat in sight. No one I saw was dressed in a hideous ghost costume, either. Everyone looked so professional, so…normal. They all looked as normal as…me.

  I trailed along after Rita who seemed to know almost everyone there—even the Ghost Stalkers. I knew she wasn’t all that impressed with their endeavors but she was still professional nonetheless. I was also not as impressed with Damon’s tattoos once I saw them up close which was quite disappointing. It was a very weird experience to feel so comfortable around so many strangers. I felt more at home at the Hastings Convention Center than I ever did at school, that’s for sure.

  I hung back reticently as Rita mingled until it was time to take our seats. We settled for chairs near the back of the room so that Clay could sit down, too. It was at that point that I wondered, was I the only one here with a ghost in tow? I began to scan the crowd, searching for signs of the undead and was surprised that I found at least three of them sitting in “empty” seats. At last, I didn’t feel odd or out of place—I felt like I was at home.

  Lectures. Even the word itself sounded boring. But the words of wisdom I listened to today were anything but. According to the program, the topic on wraiths was the last on the agenda preceded by a short intermission. I took a moment to use the restroom, excited to hear how Rita presented my adventures in the Bantam Theater. I emerged a different person.

  Something miraculous happened after I flushed that toilet and approached that swirled marble sink. Something very peculiar that made no logical sense whatsoever. I was comfortable here, comfortable with who I was in general. The things I always tried so hard to hide suddenly lost all importance for me. While some parts of my life were falling completely apart, other things were magically falling into place. Who was this new person staring back at me from the restroom mirror? In the midst of tragedy, I had somehow become…Ruby. And I wasn’t the least bit embarrassed at who she was.

  A minute later, I burst through those auditorium doors and charged up to where Rita was preparing at the podium. “I changed my mind. I want to give the presentation.” If I could take on the lead role in A Phantom Affair at a moment’s notice, I could do this, too.

  Rita looked stunned but excited. “I was hoping to hear you say that but I never thought I would! Here,” she said shuffling through a small stack of index cards, “You can use my notes to get started but once they start asking you questions, I think you’ll be okay on your own.”

  So for the next forty-five minutes I stood in front of a roomful of strangers and I told them my story—at least the relevant parts of it anyway. I explained what caused my abilities in the first place and I briefly described the ghostly encounters I’d had before going head to head with Allison in her wraith form. Clay stood with me the whole time, reminding me of details that I was leaving out. It was a frightening yet exhilarating experience, one that I was proud of myself for the very second I stepped away from that podium.

  As I was making my way back to where Rita sat still applauding my presen
tation, a lady in her early sixties stopped me.

  “I have to congratulate you on being able to accept yourself for who you are at such a young age—I was twice your age before I finally decided to embrace my abilities. Sharing your story with us today was very brave of you. Thanks.”

  I didn’t know how to respond to that so I nodded my head and smiled. She started to walk away then hesitated and said, “And that is one handsome little sidekick you have there! Too bad he’s living impaired.” She gave Clay a wink and disappeared into the crowd.

  “She can see me, too, Ruby!” Clay exclaimed. “And she thinks I’m hot!”

  “And she’s roughly the same age as your grandmother!” “Yeah, well, compliments are hard to come by for the ‘living impaired’. I’ll take what I can get!” We both laughed and so did Rita once I explained what was so funny.

  “So, Ruby, have you told Clay where we’re going next?” Rita asked as we headed out through the parking lot to her car. Once he heard that question, I didn’t have to tell him a thing.

  “We’re going to see Sophie and the baby, aren’t we?” His eyes glazed over with a lovesick look. “Do I look okay?” He nervously began to fiddle with his hair and clothes like he was preparing for his first big date.

  “It doesn’t really matter how you look, Clay,” I reminded him. “Even if we do find her, there’s no guarantee that she will be able to see you. Plus….” I trailed off not knowing how to tell him what I knew—or thought I knew—about her.

  “She still loves me—I can feel it. She’ll be able to see me.” I’d put off telling him for long enough—a little too long, actually. I needed to drop the grenade before it exploded in my face.