Dust to Dust

by Melissa Walker

  I take the photo out of the frame and put it in my pocket. “Thank you.” I shake the emotional cobweb from my voice with a cough.

  “I found something that may help you,” says Wendy, switching gears.

  “Great.”

  She reaches for a shoe box that’s resting on top of a bigger cardboard box, and she pulls out a shoelace. I give her a curious smile.

  “It was Reena’s,” she says. Then she sits on the end of the bed and stares at the white string for a moment. “It’s funny. I have a distinct memory of sitting with her in Thatcher’s room—over there by the closet—and helping her change out her shoelaces for cheerleading practice. She had these white ones, but she wanted to swap them for red and gold, the school colors. There was a pep rally that night.”

  She lets out a little laugh, lost in the past. “I remember Thatcher joking around with her, saying her school spirit was out of control. But I was twelve, and I thought she was so cool.”

  “You thought cheerleading was cool?” I laugh.

  “It was before I knew who I really was. And before these.” She points to her piercings, and then she shakes her head, clearing the memory. “Anyway, I found this on the floor of Thatcher’s closet,” she says. “It’s definitely hers.”

  She hands it to me and I look at it in my palm. This piece of string was once on Reena’s sneakers. Back when she was a girl, like me. Before she was . . . the vengeful creature she is now. I stuff the shoelace into my pocket.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  “I also found this.” She reaches back into the box and pulls out a small round pin with an intricate drawing of a tree on it—it’s tiny but you can see the texture of the bark, a delicate knothole, the detailed roots. Just like the drawing in Leo’s room.

  “Did Leo make this?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” she says. “He used to draw all the time and he pressed buttons too. It was on the strap of Thatcher’s last backpack.”

  I take the circle in my hand and finger it gently.

  “Thank you,” I say to Wendy. “I like knowing that this side of Leo existed once.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He changed,” I say. “In the Prism, Leo’s so angry. He can’t come to terms with what happened to him.”

  “Like Thatcher,” says Wendy, looking down at the carpet.

  “No,” I tell her. “Not like Thatcher at all.”

  She glances up at me, and I can sense a secret in her face, one that is longing to come out. Her eyes are asking if she can trust me.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “You know that feeling when you’re bodysurfing and you get trapped under a wave and rolled along the sand?”

  I nod, not sure where she’s going with this. Anyone who’s gone in the ocean has had that happen at some point—that feeling of panic just before you come up to the surface and breathe again, coughing and choking.

  “Yeah,” I say. “It’s scary.”

  “Right,” says Wendy. “It is. And it’s even scarier if someone holds you down.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It was the first time after Thatcher’s death that Mom and Dad let me go off with a friend’s family. Jen and I spent the day in the sun, reading magazines and digging our feet into the sand. And when we went in the ocean, Thatcher was waiting.”

  My eyes grow large and I take a breath in.

  “The boy in the ocean wasn’t like my brother. He was bitter and mean. Reena and Leo were with him.”

  I nod, encouraging her to go on.

  “Thatcher waited for a wave to take me, and when I ducked under, he held me down.”

  I’m shaking my head now, nonononono, but she’s nodding yes.

  “He was in a rage, churning like the ocean itself.”

  “It was a hallucination,” I say. “Maybe you hit your head on the bottom, maybe—”

  “No,” says Wendy, interrupting me.

  “It was Leo, then; I’m sure of it. I know he was different when he was alive, but Wendy, you don’t know what he’s capable of now. He’s—”

  “It. Was. My. Brother.” She says it staccato style, and her intense stare makes me go quiet again. “I know it was. Just before I broke the surface, Thatcher whispered, ‘Always remember, this is what it feels like to drown.’”

  I look up at her, shocked, and her kohl-rimmed eyes are filled with tears.

  “My brother blamed me, almost enough to want me dead. So how can I not blame myself, too?”

  I stand up and move closer to her, sitting on the edge of the bed. I stroke her back for a minute as her shoulders shudder, trying to process this information myself. Is it possible that Thatcher did this to his sister? That he held her under water and scared her half to death? I shake my head. It can’t be.

  “I don’t know what happened that day at the beach,” I tell her honestly. “But I do know that Thatcher loves you very much. He always has. You can’t hold on to the guilt you’re carrying—you’ve got to let it go.”

  “I’ve tried,” she says, drying her tears and pulling away from my touch. She stands up quickly and crosses her arms in front of her chest. “I go to church, I went to therapy, I do all the things they say can ease grief. I even kept a journal about my feelings for a year. But I keep reliving that day, under the water, when Thatcher’s words were full of hate and I wasn’t sure I’d see the sun again.”

  My heart goes cold. I can’t believe what I’ve just heard.

  Was Thatcher once a poltergeist, like Leo and Reena?

  Twenty-three

  WHEN CARSON AND I step out onto the beach where we picnicked the day Thatcher possessed Nick, my mind is not thinking the way I want it to. I’m supposed to be focused on using this incantation to expel Reena and Leo from the universe, but Wendy’s confession has me reeling. The thought of Thatcher trying to hurt his own sister—the realization that I don’t know everything about his past and what kind of spirit he used to be—is so unfathomable to me that I keep trying to make sense of it, running through possible alternate scenarios in my head, and my balance is totally off-kilter.

  I haven’t said anything to Carson, but of course she senses something’s wrong. As we close in on Dylan, Eli, and Nick, who are assembled in a little triangle about a hundred feet away on a mound of wet sand, she gives me a sharp look.

  “So are you going to tell me?” she asks.

  “Tell you what?”

  “Don’t play dumb. Something happened at Wendy’s house. Something that really has you spooked.”

  I shrug. “It was weird being there. In his room, with some of his stuff. I just . . . I can’t shake the feeling.”

  It’s all true, but I’m afraid to mention what Wendy told me about her brother, how he held her down under water so he could show her how horrible it felt to drown. I don’t want my friends to mistrust Thatcher, especially not now. I hate to admit it, but my trust in him is wavering a bit.

  “There’s more to it than that,” Carson says, stopping for a second. “Your eyes were totally glazed over when you left their house.”

  I tug her along by the wrist, so that she doesn’t lag behind me. “Please, let it go. We have to focus on the incantation.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about. You know better than anyone that stuff like this doesn’t work unless you’re spiritually centered. If you’re not focused, it can backfire,” she warns.

  “I’ll be fine; I just need another minute to settle down, okay?”

  “If you say so,” Carson says skeptically.

  “Hello, ladies,” says Dylan, waving us over and smiling from ear to ear. Eli, on the other hand, still looks puzzled, while Nick appears to be scanning the beach, for what I’m not exactly sure.

  “Do you still think you’re dreaming?” I ask Eli.

  He scratches his head. “There’s a lot of logistics in this dream,” he says. “A lot of driving.”

  I glance around, too, scoping out the area carefully. It’s almost dark a
nd the beach is empty, so no one will see what we’re up to. There’s also a buffer of trees all around us so that if someone pulls into the parking lot we’ll have advance warning.

  “There,” says Carson, pointing to the floating dock out on the water. “That’s the perfect spot.”

  “Really?” I ask her. It’s only about twenty feet out, not far at all, but still . . . I pictured a simple circle on the beach.

  “Please don’t question the master of incantations,” Dylan says, winking at her.

  “Thanks, Dyl. Anyway, the incantation mentions water, so I think we’ll have more power out there on the dock,” she says.

  “Who’s calling those kayaks gas burners now?” asks Nick with a grin. I suddenly see that he has the two boats all set up to go.

  Carson rolls her eyes and reaches into her large bag to bring out a candle in a tall glass votive holder. “Well, I’ve got to see the book to read the incantation, don’t I?” she says, when I let out a soft giggle. “I took it from Dixon’s.”

  Eli shoves his hands into his pockets and turns to Dylan. “Walk me through this again?”

  But Carson steps in, like the good host she is, and plays Martha Stewart to our poltergeist-expulsion party. Seems like she’s doing what I asked her to—letting go of her suspicions that something is bothering me.

  I let out a small sigh, hoping that what I said was true. That in a minute I’ll be fine, I’ll be centered and ready.

  “We’re going to do an incantation that is meant to call these two poltergeists—Reena and Leo—to us,” she says. “Once they’re here, the incantation will draw out their energy—hopefully all of it—and force them to move on from the Prism to merge into another dimension and leave the Earth, and the Prism, alone for good.”

  Eli pales a little.

  “‘There is a real magic in enthusiasm. It spells the difference between mediocrity and accomplishment.’ Norman Vincent Peale,” Dylan says out of the blue.

  “Is that supposed to make me get excited?” asks Eli.

  “Don’t worry,” says Dylan. “The whole thing sounds a lot weirder than it is.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” Nick whispers under his breath, and I give his arm a squeeze.

  “Okay, y’all!” says Carson. “Let’s go.”

  The two kayaks from the van are already halfway in the water, but they’re both two-seaters.

  “Who’s riding three?”

  I see an opportunity here, a chance to thank Carson for not pressing me too hard. “Eli, you get in the back of that one. Dylan, you sit up front, and Carson can be on your lap.”

  Dylan’s face reddens instantly. “Y’all are the littlest,” I explain.

  “Why don’t you and Carson sit up front together and then Dylan and I can take this one?” asks Nick, totally not getting my goal here. I kick him in the shin.

  “Because I want to kayak with you, Nick,” I say, sitting in kayak number two so there can be no argument.

  We push off and I watch Carson navigate Dylan’s lap as he blushes and adjusts his arms to rest around her. I can tell they’re both into it, and it warms me up a little on this shadowy, still night. I need that reassurance that two people can be a perfect fit for each other—and not have any secrets between them.

  It takes about a minute to paddle to the dock, where we tie up and sit in a circle on the wooden planks. I place Reena’s shoestring and Leo’s cuff link in the center, willing myself not to hear Wendy’s voice echoing in my ear, but it doesn’t work. The sound of chirping crickets can’t even drown her out.

  Thatcher waited for a wave to take me, and when I ducked under, he held me down.

  My brother blamed me, almost enough to want me dead.

  Carson snaps her fingers in front of my face when she notices I’m in a bit of a trance. “You concentrating, Cal?”

  I clear my throat, hoping it will also clear my mind. “Yeah, I’m good.”

  “Do we hold hands?” asks Nick.

  “No,” says Dylan. “Once Carson starts saying the words, the energy will flow between us without us having to touch.”

  He opens up the book, placing it in front of Carson. Her voice kicks into serious mode, and she begins to say the words we hope will stop the poltergeists, as the rest of us close our eyes.

  “I call to you, Reena Bell and Leo Cutler,

  I appeal to you

  On the wings of words that fly,

  Whatever the distance,

  Traverse time and space, water and earth,

  And appear in our presence on this moonlit night.”

  The first time she says the incantation, nothing feels different. It’s like we’re kids at a basement slumber party, playing “Light as a feather, stiff as a board” and wishing something would happen without any real results. But my thoughts are here, with my friends, free of distractions and feelings that might threaten this whole process.

  Then Carson repeats the words. . . .

  “I call to you, Reena Bell and Leo Cutler,

  I appeal to you

  On the wings of words that fly,

  Whatever the distance,

  Traverse time and space, water and earth,

  And appear in our presence on this moonlit night.”

  This time, I can feel energy starting to swim around us, like we’re under water, surrounded by an element that’s thicker than air, heavy and pressing. I hear a cackle from behind me, so I peek a little and see streaks of light hovering between me, Dylan, Nick, Eli, and Carson. When I open my own eyes fully, the others do, too—it feels like all of our senses are connected right now. The light looks pretty at first, like the twinkling of tiny stars dancing above us. But the sound of laughter grows louder, and the stars begin to flicker—light to dark, dark to light.

  When I turn my head to the right, I can see them.

  Reena and Leo.

  They’re hovering on top of the river, clear as day—at least to me. Their mouths are curved into ghoulish shapes as they sneer and continue to laugh.

  “Can you believe this?” Leo says to Reena. “They’re trying a spell on us!”

  “It’s pathetic, isn’t it?” she replies, but when she locks eyes with me, Reena realizes this isn’t a joke. All of us mean business and we won’t stop until they’re gone.

  “Carson, part two!” shouts Dylan, and Carson switches gears, moving on to the second step, which is ridding the poltergeists of everything that gives them power.

  “Energy, I summon thee,

  Black to white,

  Dark to light,

  I call to thee,

  Precious energy,

  Leave these souls

  And come to me.”

  “It’s not working,” says Dylan abruptly, his voice sounding shaky and uncertain for the first time.

  “It is,” I tell him. “They’re here. I can see them over the water.”

  “I can sense their presence, too,” he says, closing his eyes for a moment. “But we’re not in control . . . they’re not losing energy. In fact, they feel—”

  “Stronger than ever?” says Leo, filling in the rest of Dylan’s sentence and booming over Carson’s second chant of the incantation.

  Carson’s head whips toward Leo. “I see them now, too,” she says, her eyes glowing with anticipation. Once Reena notices Carson’s attention, she tilts her head affectionately at my best friend, which makes my stomach tie into knots.

  I look around at the rest of our circle—Dylan, Nick, Eli. Dylan is concentrating hard, still focusing his attention on the spell, and trying to get Carson to return to her chant. Nick looks thoroughly confused.

  “What’s happening?” whispers Nick. He can’t see them yet, and Dylan can’t either. But I don’t have time to fill him in.

  I glance over at Eli. His face is frozen in fear—he’s looking directly at Leo.

  “Can you see him?” I ask Eli.

  “Uh, yeah. Dude’s standing right there on the water and he’s not exactly small.�
��

  “Callie,” says Dylan. “What’s happening? I can’t see anything.”

  “I thought you were smarter than this, Callie. Letting that idiot lead you out here, convincing you that this might make us go away,” says Reena.

  “Hey!” shouts Carson. “He’s not an idiot!”

  Leo growls at her, and I see Carson’s skin go completely white, like she’s just now realized what deep trouble we’re in. I nudge her with my foot and mouth the words “the ring” to her, reassuring her that we can get backup here at any time. Carson nods, her shoulders loosening.

  “You seem a little frightened, Carson,” says Reena, smiling with all of her teeth. “That’s disappointing. I expected that you’d be energized by your glimpse of us, of the other side.”

  Carson shrinks back a little bit, and I move toward her protectively.

  “Callie, who is that?” Eli’s still staring at Leo, who’s giving him a menacing grin.

  I feel a panic grip me. If Leo takes Eli now, it’ll be the third possession. The one that will destroy Eli’s soul and allow Leo to keep his body . . . forever.

  I have to think fast. “Eli, that’s Leo!” I say fake-cheerfully. “What would a party be without Leo?”

  “What are you doing?” whispers Nick.

  But I don’t answer him. I’m too busy trying to stall so I can try to figure out why the second part of the incantation is failing, and deciding whether or not to call Thatcher. Suddenly it feels like they called us here instead of the other way around and I’m worried that we’re in way over our heads.

  Especially now that Reena is staring at Carson like a starving lion eyeing an antelope.

  “Aren’t you wondering why you and Eli can see us and hear us right now?” she asks Carson patiently, like an adult patronizing a little kid.

  “I’ve always been perceptive,” says Carson, her voice even despite her saucer-sized eyes.

  “Too true,” says Reena. “But the reason you can both see and hear me now, in this instant, is because you’re both ready for the final possession.”

  Then Reena glares at me. “Say good-bye to Carson, Callie. You’ll be seeing me from now on.”

  I grab hold of Thatcher’s ring and stand up, breaking the energy of the circle. Every fiber of my being vibrates with the bellowing call I make, the wind shifting around me like a storm.