Dead Girl Dancing

by Linda Joy Singleton

  “Shopping?” I guessed.

  “No!” She shook her head, looking sick enough to vomit. “I may never shop again.”

  Eli tilted his head curiously when Sadie raced off like she was being chased by the DD Team. “What’s with her?” he asked.

  But I just shrugged and said I didn’t know. Even though I wasn’t really Sadie’s friend, I felt loyal to her. And I had optimistic hopes that Sadie’s conscience (or fear of tacky orange jail jumpsuits) would cause her to return stuff she stole and give up stealing forever. A book I’d read called The Infernal Optimist advised to always expect the best of people because they might surprise you by living up to your expectations.

  We gazed back toward the ocean. The dancing had spread from the center of the beach all the way to the foaming shoreline, where barefoot spring breakers splashed and kicked up sand with the rise and fall of the surf. Due to the addition of a DJ and sound system, sound waves rivaled ocean waves, rocking powerfully enough to topple the sand sculptures. The people who weren’t dancing were watching the dancing; no one seemed aware of the drama that had just taken place.

  Except Eli and me.

  We walked down to a rocky outcrop, where surf swirled into tide pools and tiny crabs scurried into sandy holes and dark crevices. We climbed across rocks until the music was muffled to a faraway buzz, drowned out by the rhythmic crashing waves and sea gulls shrieking as they wheeled and dived. Sitting down on a sandy patch of peacefulness tucked between rocks, we were both silent, wrapped in our own thoughts. I wondered what Eli was thinking; perhaps he was wondering the same thing about me. We’d been so focused on other-side problems that there hadn’t been any time for us. Now that we did have time, there was an awkward silence.

  “Well … ” Eli finally said, glancing at me expectantly. “Now what happens?”

  “I’m not sure. I could be switched back any minute.”

  He nodded, looking disappointed. I felt disappointed, too. Here I was with the guy I maybe-loved, relaxing by the ocean with salty crisp breezes and blue-gray sea curving into a forever horizon. We even had background music to add to the romantic ambience. And except for the “can’t kiss because he’s my brother” thing, this was the perfect romantic moment.

  But any minute Grammy would whisk my soul away with no warning. Then good-bye beach and spring break. Zap! Back into a hospital bed and my own body.

  But shouldn’t I have a choice about when and where my soul traveled?

  Admittedly, I’d made some mistakes as a Temp Lifer, but I’d tried hard. I’d even helped take down a Dark Lifer. If I could take out a Dark Lifer (or at least point to where he was), why shouldn’t I be allowed to finish my assignment?

  Not being the type of girl to stand by when I could be taking action, I came to a drastic decision.

  Eli was staring at gyrating bodies on the beach when I tapped his shoulder. I gestured that I was going to get something to drink from a nearby snack cart. “I’ll be right back,” I said.

  “I’ll wait here,” he promised, then returned to watching the dancing.

  I bought a drink (non-alcoholic, thank you very much) from the snack cart. Sipping water, I glanced around to make sure no one was watching. Then I withdrew the GEM from my pocket.

  I bent down low, opening it to the first page, and whispered, “GEM, can you get a message to Grammy Greta?”

  A bold YES flourished across the page.

  “I thought so. Please tell her that we need to talk.”

  You Are Doing So Now.

  As I stared at the book, the page burst into video of Grammy’s gentle, smiling face. Instead of words flashing, I felt a pressure in my ears as if someone had stuck in an ear bud, and I clearly heard Grammy.

  “Hi, honey.” It was mind-boggling how I could read her lips on the GEM page at the same time she broadcast into my ears.

  “Grammy! It’s so good to hear you!” I whispered, tears coming to my eyes because, no matter how many times I’d seen her since her death, she was dead and I missed her.

  “I heard you spotted the Dark Lifer. Great work,” she said proudly.

  “You really mean that? Even after I messed up by losing the GEM and having no clue how to act like Sharayah?”

  “You’ve done fine and I’m the one who owes you an apology for putting you in such a challenging situation without any training. I admit to acting on impulse when I discovered you knew Sharayah’s brother. At the time, this seemed like a simple assignment, but I didn’t know about the Dark Lifer. I’m really sorry.”

  “Don’t be. This has been a great assignment, and except for the scary stuff, it’s been fun. I figured out a lot of things about Sharayah and even got my GEM back—Eli drove four hundred miles to bring it to me. I think you’d really like him, Grammy.”

  “I already do,” she said with a knowing lift of her brows. “He’s a very nice boy—and I have it on good authority that you’ll be seeing a lot of him.”

  “You do?” I felt my cheeks get sizzling hot.

  “Some future events are written in the Hall of Records and I’ve been known to sneak a peak when it concerns people I love. So I know you have many wonderful things ahead of you once you’re in your right body—which is what brings me here. You have good timing, contacting me just as I was preparing to contact you.”

  “You were?” I gulped, tempted to slam the book shut and run away.

  “It’s time, Amber. Your parents will be so happy when you wake up.”

  I thought of Mom and Dad and what I’d already put them through. It was selfish of me to resist going back, yet that’s what I felt inside. Maybe my resistance was a leftover from Sharayah’s soul, some sort of defense system holding tightly to me like someone drowning grabs onto a life jacket. I was Sharayah’s life jacket.

  “Grammy, there’s something I have to tell you,” I said, drawing a deep breath. “About my assignment.”

  “What, honey?”

  “As much as I want to return to my own life, I can’t leave yet. I need to finish my assignment. I know how to solve Sharayah’s problems.”

  “Temp Lifers are replacements, not guardian angels.”

  “Can’t I be both?”

  “Oh, Amber, you make me so proud.” Her tone embraced me, loving and warm, but the smile she gave seemed a little sad. “Unfortunately, there is little you can do for Sharayah. She has to live her own life.”

  “But I can make her life happier if I have more time. And the reason you were pulling me back today was because of the Dark Lifer, only the DD Team took care of Warren so there’s no danger.”

  “Danger wears many faces,” she said.

  “Don’t worry about me, Grammy. I’ll be fine, but I’m not so sure about Sharayah. I’m afraid she won’t go to the audition unless I’m her.”

  “I suspect you’re right.”

  “So you see why I can’t change back yet? Grammy, give me—give Sharayah—another chance.”

  “It’s not that simple,” she argued, but with less fervor.

  “Only twenty-four hours. Then I’ll happily switch back.”

  “You have no idea what you’re asking.”

  “Grammy, let me do this. It’s important for Sharayah … and me, too.”

  “Well … ” Her voice wavered.

  “Please,” I said quietly.

  Clouds rose white and misty around my grandmother’s face as she gave a slow nod. “Well … all right. One more day—and not a minute more.”

  I thought I heard my grandmother sigh.

  Then the GEM slammed itself shut.

  Eli and I celebrated my “one more day” by indulging in chocolate.

  We wandered down streets until we found a shop called Choco Lots! The Amber inside me drooled with passion. Choosing just one candy was impossible, so Eli and I systemically divided the candies into categories and mathematically selected a representation of each chocolate category to share. When I started to offer my “borrowed” credit card, Eli shook his head
and paid in cash.

  “You are the best brother ever,” I said as we left the store with two bags.

  “I don’t feel at all brotherly with you. But then I look at you and see my sister. Like this scar on your arm.” He pointed to a small white line below my elbow. “I bet you don’t know how that happened.”

  I shook my head. “No idea.”

  “But I do. I was six, and you were teaching me how to ride my bike.”

  “I was a nice sister,” I observed, moving aside with Eli to make room for a couple with a stroller.

  “You were the best,” he agreed a bit sadly. “It was when Dad was starting his dealership and Mom did his bookkeeping, leaving us with babysitters a lot. It was Sharayah who put me up on a bike, explained what to do and pushed me into the street. But a car turned onto our street and was headed for me. Sharayah ran after me, grabbed the bike and threw us out of the way. I fell on the grass, but she had to go to the emergency room for stitches. That’s the Sharayah I miss.”

  “She’s around, just in hiding,” I said. “She’ll come back.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Until then, you’ve got me.”

  “Yeah,” he said, smiling. “I like that.”

  “You know what I like?”

  “What?” He gave me a look that was far from brotherly.

  “What else?” I reached into the bag and we shared a chocolate-covered strawberry.

  That afternoon will probably go down as the most romantic platonic non-date in history. No kissing, hand holding or body contact of any kind. We walked along the beach without even brushing fingertips. We found a small amusement park and rode on fast rides, sitting a safe “sibling distance” apart. Despite all this non-touching, I felt closer to Eli than ever.

  After a late lunch of chili hot dogs and onion rings, I was staring at a spot of chili on his mouth, wishing I could kiss it off, when Eli glanced at the clock on his cell phone and said he had to leave. Turns out he wasn’t lying about having friends to visit. He invited me to go along, but keeping up the Big Sister pretense privately was hard enough; it would be insane around people who actually knew Sharayah.

  So I wandered back to the beach.

  Mauve was exactly where I’d left her, sitting on the towel with her elbows on her knees. She was leaning her head against her hands in a wistful way, watching a guy around thirty and a toddler girl about the age of my triplet sisters. The guy, who was probably the father, was showing the little girl how to dig in the sand with a plastic shovel. Mauve was so absorbed in watching that she didn’t notice me until I plopped down on the hot sand beside her. When she lifted her face, I was stunned to see tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “Mauve, what’s wrong?” I asked in concern. “Why are you crying?”

  She wiped her eyes. “I’m not. Just something in my eye.”

  “Yeah—tears.”

  “Forget it,” she said sharply. “I’m fine.”

  “No, you aren’t. Did something happen with Alonzo?”

  “No. We’re cool.”

  “So why are you crying alone on the beach? And you had the oddest expression while you watched them.” I pointed as the little girl giggled when her father shoveled sand over her toes. “Do you know them?”

  “No.” She sounded angry now. “And stop acting like you don’t know what’s going on. We talked about this when you saw the picture. I appreciate your support, but I warned you never to bring it up again. You’re just trying to get me to talk about it, and I already told you I’m not going to.”

  Hmmm, this was getting interesting. Unfortunately, I hadn’t seen any picture so I had no clue what was going on.

  “I read this book once, called Talk Therapy, that said how it was healthy to talk about problems. You can hide them from others but not from yourself—that was some of the advice.”

  “Self-help books suck. And since when do you read books that don’t have half-naked men on the cover?” She brushed sand off her towel, turning her back on me. “Go away, Rayah. Hang out with your brother if you’re bored.”

  “Eli is visiting his friends.”

  “So find Sadie. She’ll talk about anything.”

  “Except for the problems she’s trying to hide,” I said.

  “Don’t compare me with her,” Mauve warned. “My issues aren’t anything like Sadie’s. I’m not a klepto.”

  “You know about her stealing?” I blew out a heavy sigh.

  “Hel-lo? I’m the one who warned you Sadie had stolen your ATM card and that you better switch all your money to another bank.”

  I thought of the cash in my purse, finally understanding. Sharayah wasn’t carrying all that cash for any nefarious reasons. She meant to put it into a new account in a different bank—only I’d interrupted by taking over her body.

  “—and never leave your purse around when Sadie comes to our room,” Mauve added. “She can’t help herself if she sees jewelry, credit cards or cash. She’s my friend and all, but she’s a thief. At least she’s been better since she got arrested—”

  “Arrested!” My hand flew to my mouth and I tasted sand. Yuck.

  “Shhsh! Not so loud,” Mauve cautioned, looking around nervously. “We promised not to tell anyone as long as Sadie continues with her therapy. But she’s missing her session this week, so I’m worried about a relapse. We have to watch her carefully. Have you seen her take anything?”

  I nodded. “A rhinestone watch.”

  “Damn.” Mauve scowled. “When did this happen?”

  “Yesterday.”

  “And you’re just now telling me?” Mauve gave me a disgusted look. “You promised to let me know right away so I could prevent anything serious from happening.”

  I stared at her, marveling at this new side of Mauve. It was almost like she had a heart. “You really do care about Sadie, don’t you?”

  “She’s my friend.” Mauve shrugged. “And you are, too, even though you can be a total bitch sometimes.”

  “Me?” I gasped.

  “You never talk about your past, but sometimes it’s like you’re on self-destruct. I can’t always be there to pick up the pieces—although I try. You have to be responsible. Guys are fun, but they don’t stick around when you need them.”

  “Not all guys,” I pointed out. “Eli … I mean, my brother, is the loyal type.”

  “Your brother’s too young for me,” she said wryly.

  But not for me, I thought.

  “What about Alonzo?” I asked Mauve, trying to understand. “Things seem to be progressing nicely with him.”

  “When spring break is over, so are we—if we last that long. He was pissed when I didn’t want to dance, so he’s probably already gone on to some other girl. I know better than to expect anything from him. We girls have to watch each others’ backs—guys just want to have fun with no responsibilities.”

  Her tone hinted at a betrayal so deep an X-ray would probably show scaring across her heart. And when her gaze strayed back to the father and daughter, I wondered if she had issues with her own father. Except it wasn’t the man she was staring at—it was the little girl. A suspicion came to me. But I couldn’t just come out and ask her something so personal—especially something I was supposed to already know. How was I going to find out?

  “That little girl is cute,” I said carefully. “She’s about the age of my … um … the little triplet sisters of this girl I know.”

  “Triplets! I can’t imagine carrying three babies at once. The mother must have horrible stretch marks.”

  “She had a C-section, and was on bed rest for months.”

  “What a nightmare. I’d never want to go through that.”

  And just the way she said it, I knew her secret without Grammy, Sharayah or even the GEM telling me.

  “Mauve, can you show me the picture again?” I asked softly. “Of your daughter.”

  You never really know people, even when they stay in their own body.

  Mauve had
seemed all bitchy and irresponsible, but that was only the outside. Inside, she loved so much that when a guy broke her heart and left her pregnant, she gave up the baby to an adoptive family who needed to give love as much as the baby needed to be loved.

  When Mauve showed me the picture of herself holding a baby, I could have cried. The baby was two years old now and named Jenna, and Mauve’s only contact was a picture in the mail every year on Jenna’s birthday. In a private way, Mauve was a genuine heroine and I respected her, maybe even liked her. I had less respect for Sadie—who’d seemed so fun and nice when we’d first met, but couldn’t be trusted.

  For the first time since living in a college-aged body, my soul caught up in experience. I felt even older than Sharayah. Things that seemed important a week ago—making welcome baskets to give to new students at school, achieving a 4.0 average and trying not to show how uncool I really was despite all the self-help books—seemed unimportant. When I was me again, I’d look the same, but inside I’d be forever changed.

  My emotions were still raw a few hours later, when Sadie, Mauve and I met up at the crappo condo. None of us had planned to meet, but here we all were. Together again, pretending that nothing had changed.

  “I’m so over Warren,” Sadie insisted as she rifled through her suitcase until she found a jade-green tube dress. “Let’s have a girls’ night out at Club Revolution.”

  “I’m in,” Mauve said as she tried to figure out the latch on the fold-out bed. “And I’m going to wear my sexiest dress tonight so that when Alonzo sees me, he’ll regret going off with that tramp in the pink bikini.”

  “At least Alonzo isn’t in jail,” Sadie said sadly.

  “Better him than you,” Mauve said with a meaningful look. “Did you take care of things?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sadie retorted, all wide-eyed and innocent.

  “You know exactly what I mean.” Mauve narrowed her eyes. “Did you?”

  “What do you think? That I’m stupid? I’ll handle it when I’m ready, okay?” Sadie glared back at Mauve, then slammed her suitcase. “I’m going to shower.”