Dead Girl in Love

by Linda Joy Singleton

  The car light flashed on Gabe’s ruggedly handsome face and hazel-green eyes as I slipped into the passenger seat. The door shut, light fading into a fog of darkness. The only illumination came in muted yellow and red glows from the car’s dials and buttons.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, my wildly thumping heart making me dizzy. Or maybe my light-headedness came from being so close to a Dark Lifer … and not just any Dark Lifer, either, but a dangerous fugitive. I had to be crazy to go off with him like this. He had a history of lying, deceiving, and cruelty. Yet it wasn’t fear I felt—it was excitement.

  “We’ll go somewhere we won’t be disturbed,” he answered.

  A tremor slithered up my spine. “But I can’t be gone too long because Alyce’s mother might wake up and need me. I don’t want to go too far.”

  “It’s only a few miles.” He started the engine and drove away from my last connection to safety.

  We pulled into a strip mall with specialty stores, banks, and restaurants. The only business open was a twenty-four-hour grocery store, but we drove past it and parked in front of a small store called Wet Pets.

  “Come on,” Gabe said, killing the engine and reaching into a compartment and pulling out a set of keys.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, gesturing to the darkened buildings.

  “Inside.” He nodded toward Wet Pets.

  “But it’s closed.”

  “Closed means privacy.”

  His keys jingled softly, reminding me of the warning rattle from a snake. So many reasons to turn around and run before it was too late—yet I followed.

  He walked up to Wet Pets, ignoring the Closed sign as if he owned the place. He reached for a side control panel, which lit up when he punched in some numbers. Beep, beep, and a red light flashed to green. Gabe splayed out the keys and chose a small gold one to fit into the lock. Click. The door fell open into a dark cavern.

  “This way,” Gabe told me, crooking his finger in a “follow” gesture.

  I followed into a shadowy world of fish.

  “Are we allowed in here?” I asked in a hushed voice. My eyes adjusted to the dim light, which illuminated the rows and rows of large glass tanks full of many species of fish in amazing colors. There was a low electrical hum and echoing, bubbling sounds.

  “It’s perfectly all right,” he said with a shrug. “I used to work here.”

  “You worked?”

  “Don’t look so surprised. I earn an honest wage when it suits me, and managing a fish store suited me well. The owner, an odd little man with a glass eye, trusted me completely.”

  “Trusted you?” I raised my brows skeptically.

  “I was the best employee he ever had.”

  “Then why did you leave?”

  He gave a bitter chuckle. “Why do I always leave? But I like to think my boss noticed a change, perhaps a lack of efficiency, in his employee after I left. He became merely an ordinary human.”

  “Why do you still have keys?” I pointed to the faint lump in his jacket pocket.

  “I keep souvenirs of my lives—at least the more memorable ones—and tonight the keys came in handy. Luckily, the manager was too lazy to change the security code.” He walked over to a tank of colorfully striped fish and leaned close to the bubbly water. “Isn’t that the most amazing scent?”

  “Fish?” I crinkled my nose, a little grossed out.

  “Seawater. Even though it’s not pure seawater—stores that sell fish use bags with a salt mix to create seawater— the scent of salty water energizes me. I always try to choose bodies that work or live near the ocean, but sometimes I end up miles away and have to improvise.”

  “Why does the ocean mean so much to you?”

  “It’s my life … or it was before … well, you know. No matter what body I move into, I feel the sway and pull of the ocean. It’s the beat of my heart, the rise and fall of the tide. Where I get my soul energy.”

  “Soul energy?”

  “It’s hard to explain when we’re stuck in these heavy earth bodies, but it’s how souls without a permanent body draw strength. It took me many decades to learn that my energy increases when I can breathe in the ocean air or swim in the sea.”

  “Will I gain energy by touching seawater?” I gestured to the nearest fish tank.

  “No.”

  “But if it worked for you, why not me?”

  “As Alexander Pope said, On life’s vast ocean diversely we sail. Reasons the card, but passion the gale. The ocean is my passion, not yours.” He moved down the row of aquariums and stared wistfully at the eels slithering across the glass. “All souls have something important to them, passions that bring joy and heighten the emotions. During the hippy era, they would have called this finding their nirvana. It’s different, though, for those of us shifting in and out of borrowed bodies. This essence of ourselves is stronger because we aren’t restricted by a jail of flesh and bone.”

  “You’re confusing me,” I said.

  “Not surprising since humans only use ten percent of their brains. You’ll understand much better in a pure energy state.”

  “We’re already in California.” I couldn’t resist joking.

  “Not that kind of state.” He turned toward me, sly amusement mingling with the glow of yellowy fish tank lights. “Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else’s opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation.”

  “Who said that?”

  “Oscar Wilde.”

  “Don’t tell me Oscar Wilde was a Temp Lifer, too.”

  “Doubtful. That quote isn’t about literally living other lives; it’s about people following others rather than seeking their own passion. Soul passion is the key to power.”

  I still didn’t understand, but I was mesmerized by the lyrical lilt of his so-very-masculine voice. I found myself leaning closer, inhaling his scent of sea and mystery, eager to learn more.

  “These bodies are vessels for life yet they are prisons, too, much like these aquariums are to the fish inside,” he went on. “But since you and I aren’t the true owners of our bodies, only visitors, we aren’t bound by the same rules of nature. To connect with your friend, you’ll need to free your soul.”

  “Huh?” I said oh-so-brilliantly.

  “Amber, listen carefully and do exactly what I say.” His tone deepened, somber and serious. He started to reach out for me, but then pulled back, obviously remembering our “no touch” agreement.

  “Just tell me what to do,” I said, my voice softer than the bubbling hum from the surrounding fish tanks. “How do I reach Alyce?”

  “Tap into your innermost passion. What do you love more than anything?”

  “My family.” And Eli, I thought privately.

  “Not human attachments—your personal passion. For a pianist it might be playing at a concert, sports for an athlete, and for my ex-boss it was buying exotic fish.”

  “Fish leave me cold. I don’t play an instrument or do athletic anything.”

  “Dig deep into yourself—what brings you great joy?” Gabe persisted.

  I thought of something but hesitated, embarrassed. “Promise you won’t laugh.”

  He pantomimed crossing his heart. “I shall resist laughing.”

  “Okay…” I clasped my hands. “I’ve got a thing for …

  um … chocolate.”

  He burst out laughing.

  “You laughed!” I accused, scowling.

  “I did resist … briefly. You continue to surprise me.”

  “I’m not a choco-pig.” I lifted my chin, striving for dignity. “I just enjoy the smell, texture, and taste of chocolate. But it’s not like I go crazy and eat tons of chocolate. I know how to use restraint.”

  “No restraint tonight—not when we need to tap into your power. It’s much easier to find chocolate than a piano.” Then he walked over to a display shelf behind the check-out counter and offered me a Milky Way candy bar—king size.

 
Immediately my mouth watered and the choco-pig inside me snatched the candy bar from his hand. I ripped the wrapper and then slowly tore the rest of it off, revealing the chocolate bar. The smell … the smooth, rich, creamy milk chocolate layer … the gooey spurt of caramel … then the decadent sweet taste spilling into my mouth.

  “Wait!” Before I could take a second bite, Gabe pulled back my arm—his touch shocking me like an electric jolt. “Don’t eat it all yet … stop and think about everything you’re feeling.”

  “Your hand. On my arm,” I accused.

  “I apologize.” When he pulled back, my skin was warm where he’d touched it. “But we’ll need to be close during these lessons, so while I can promise not to drain your energy, I can’t promise not to touch you. You do want to learn?”

  I nodded.

  “Then close your eyes.” His voice washed over me, compelling, hypnotic, and impossible to resist. “As chocolate melts over your tongue, allow yourself to feel the happiness and let it fill you up like air inside a balloon. Happiness creates energy that lifts the soul.”

  It seemed odd to hear him talk about happiness, considering he’d spent a century causing tears and heartbreak.

  “Stay focused,” he said sharply, as if he could see inside my mind. “Keep your eyes shut and wrap all your senses around your emotions for chocolate. Feel power surging through you.”

  I focused inward, but didn’t notice any sudden influx of power. Still, what I was feeling was nice. My negativity was melting away, leaving only calmness, peace, and trust. There was a little dizziness, too, which probably had more to do with his energy than mine.

  “You’re doing well, Amber,” Gabe’s voice guided me. “Gather your most intense feelings and imagine them spreading through you. Yes! I can see it in your aura—it’s brightening as if electrified. Keep visualizing. Your power heats like melted chocolate and fuses with soul energy.”

  I did feel an electricity, but it wasn’t shocking; it was warm and so delicious that I could taste sweetness. Energy sparked as if lightning, not blood, surged through me. And it felt good, like I could reach out and hold the entire world in my powerful hands.

  “Now think of your Host Body.”

  “Alyce,” I whispered.

  “Visualize her, not how she looks but who she is. Can you see her?”

  I tried but all I could manage was the memory of looking into a mirror at Alyce’s face. “No.”

  “Dig deeper into yourself. A part of her is attached to this plane, so she’s never really far away. Spread out until you feel her … find her.”

  And just like that, I saw Alyce, or at least how I imagined her, lying on a beach with the surf lapping close by like a lullaby. She wore a gold bikini and glowed with a tan that never burned. Her eyes were closed and she looked so peaceful that I felt reluctant to invade her paradise.

  “Go to her,” Gabe urged.

  “I can’t … I don’t belong there. I’m afraid I’ll hurt her.”

  “You’ll hurt her more by doing nothing. As Plato said, Courage is knowing what not to fear. Alyce is your friend, so there’s no reason to fear talking to her. Take her hand and think of the questions you want to ask. She won’t be able to resist, and you’ll see what you seek in her thoughts.”

  “But she’s sleeping … it wouldn’t be right.”

  “It’s your right to have questions answered,” Gabe said forcefully. “Go. Now.”

  So I went, surprised at a rough warmth of grainy sand under my feet and sunrays warming my skin. Still, prickles of fear made me shiver because I felt like an intruder. But I’d come too far to leave now. I had to help Alyce … no matter what happened to me.

  “Alyce,” I whispered, taking another sandy step. My fingers, an unearthly shade of gray, hovered over her shoulder.

  She gave a low moan, shifting on the beach blanket, one hand clutching tight to a beach towel as if it were a child’s blankie. She seemed so vulnerable that my heart twisted in guilt for what I was about to do.

  “Touch her,” Gabe told me.

  “I can’t.”

  “You must!” he ordered. “Put your hand on her now.”

  Standing over Alyce, I whispered her name and waited for a sign from her that I was doing the right thing. But her eyes stayed closed and I could hear Gabe’s voice urging me to touch her … so I reached down and placed my fingers on her skin.

  Electricity exploded under my fingertips and my world reeled into a spinning vortex of sand, beach, and waves. And I fell, fell, fell into Alyce’s thoughts.

  Whirling deep into her memories, I lost almost everything of myself … except a lingering, sweet scent of chocolate.

  I was more than Alyce, more than myself, more than human.

  Everything was different, as if I’d left a well-marked highway for uncharted roads with unknown destinations. But there was also a sense of homecoming, too.

  When I’d stepped into Alyce’s body yesterday, adjusting to ordinary things like brushing my hair and putting on clothes made me feel like a toddler taking first steps. But this experience wasn’t bound by flesh or gravity. I wasn’t sure whether I was beside, above, or inside Alyce as I was swept inside her memories—part voyeur, part companion.

  Her long black hair danced in a thick braid, like a wild snake trying to catch us as we ran through the kitchen and hid under the table. It was strange how this table seemed so large, as if it had doubled in size since that afternoon.

  “It’s not the table that grew,” I realized as a new awareness of self settled over me. Alyce and I were together in her little girl body, giggling with impish delight. She was much younger, maybe four. This memory must have happened before we met.

  “I see you!” a man’s voice rang out, laughing.

  Then I heard a chair being moved and felt myself lifted into strong arms.

  “Daddy! You cheated!” Alyce cried, pretending to be mad, but her giggles gave her away.

  “You always hide under the table,” he said.

  “Next time I’ll hide in my closet and you won’t find me.”

  “It’s a deal,” the stocky man with sideburns and a nice smile told us. Our skinny arms reached around to hug this nice father.

  He lifted us to his shoulders and piggy-backed us into the living room.

  “Would you like me to read you a story, Ally-kitten?”

  “Yes, yes!” we exclaimed, settling onto his lap and feeling comfortable and so happy.

  “Which book do you want?”

  “About the big sister,” we told him.

  “That one again? Aren’t you tired of it yet?” He laughed as he reached for a green book.

  “Again! Again!” we exclaimed, and I felt eager along with Alyce to hear this story that was her favorite.

  It was a really nice story, too, about a little girl who was teaching her baby sister colors by blowing up a rainbow of balloons, then flying off for a magical balloon a ride in the sky. When the father finished, Alyce and I shouted out “Again!” So he closed the book, flipped back to the first page, and started over.

  It was strange how while I became Alyce at this young age, a part of me knew I was still Amber, too, like a ghost of myself was hovering outside the memory. I wondered if this memory would show me how to me help the future Alyce.

  I’d never met Alyce’s father, but I knew that’s who was reading to us. I liked how easily he laughed and his relaxed, playful manner. He seemed like the kind of loving dad who would always be there, so what had gone wrong? He sent Alyce gift cards packed with money and had set up a college trust fund for her, but he never visited. “He has a new family,” Alyce had once told me in a steel tone that slammed bars across any further questions.

  The book was put aside, and we curled up on the couch with “Daddy” to watch an Animal Planet show about giraffes. We asked questions about spots and long necks until we could hardly keep our eyes open.

  Time passed until sounds jarred us from a deep sleep.

 
; Mommy was home, Alyce realized excitedly. She was ready to jump and race across the room for a big welcome-home hug … until the shouting. Together, we lay perfectly still, pretending to be asleep.

  Peeking out, though, we saw Mommy and Daddy. But they looked all wrong. Mommy was crying and waving her hands as she begged Daddy not to be mad at her. But Daddy was mad, so angry that he shouted bad words and waved his fist like he wanted to hit Mommy.

  “Where were you?” he shouted. “It’s been over two weeks!”

  “Don’t know … don’t remember!” Mommy sobbed, her hands clutching her round belly.

  “You can’t forget something like that and you’re not … oh my God! What happened?”

  “I’m not feeling well … ”

  He grabbed her arms. “Why didn’t you call me when you went to the hospital?”

  “No hospital … all lost and gone.”

  I thought she meant her memory was gone, but something darker lurked under her words and chilled me with a suspicion that the child body I visited couldn’t comprehend. But Alyce knew something was wrong … terribly wrong. Her fear shocked through us, and tears prickled down our cheeks.

  “Don’t talk nonsense. Tell me what happened!” Daddy insisted, shaking his wife’s arms so she looked like a floppy doll. “Where have you been?”

  Mommy shook her head back and forth, sobbing.

  “Answer me! Where is she?”

  But Mommy only cried and covered her face with her hands.

  Pretend to be asleep, we told ourselves, wanting the bad dream to go away and everything to be happy again. But the yelling hurt our ears and we started to cry …

  Daddy noticed and came over to scoop us up in strong arms.

  “It’s all right,” he crooned. Then he looked at Mommy and shouted, “What kind of mother are you? How can you just abandon your daughter!”

  This only made Mommy cry more and Alyce trembled with fear, understanding enough to know why her mother looked different and what was missing. But she didn’t understand why Mommy was alone.

  “Where’s my baby sister?” Alyce cried, tasting salty tears on our lips.