by Sarah Wynde
A Gift of Ghosts
By Sarah Wynde
Copyright 2011 Wendy Sharp
All Rights Reserved
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DEDICATION
A quirky dedication for a quirky book: this book is dedicated to the creators, cast, and crew of the (wonderful, amazing, incredibly fun, tragically cancelled) television show Eureka, for first inspiring my creativity and then annoying me so much that I was forced into originality.* And in particular, to Felicia Day, for this blog post: https://feliciaday.com/blog/five-things-about-2010, and for making geeky girls cool.
*Ahem. Or 95% originality? The Quirky Town trope isn’t exactly new.
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Acknowledgements
Preview of A Gift of Thought
CHAPTER ONE
Akira checked her reflection in the sun visor mirror. She’d bitten off all her lipstick during the drive from the airport. Hands shaking, just a little, she pulled out a pink gloss from her bag and carefully reapplied the color.
“You’re awfully pretty, you know.” The teenage boy leaning over the back of the seat made the words sound disparaging. “It’s not like you need that. It’s probably going to give you cancer or something. Why do girls think it’s a good idea to spread chemicals all over their faces?”
Ignoring him, she took a deep breath, and tucked the gloss back into the pocket of her bag, trying to summon up the courage to step out of the car. She’d walk into the building and breeze her way through her first job interview in years. She could do it. Of course she could. She’d be bright and smart and professional, and they’d love her and offer her a job, a good job, one that would let her actually work on her research.
“And then I’ll win the lottery,” she said aloud, chewing on her lip, already forgetting about the gloss.
“No one ever does,” the boy said cynically.
Akira wasn’t even sure how she’d made it here. She wasn’t the adventurous type. Life, it seemed to her, had enough challenges without searching out new ones. She’d mapped out her path long ago: a nice, quiet academic life in the Californian town where she grew up, some teaching, some research, staying in familiar territory, living on familiar ground.
But then one reckless paragraph about spirit energy in an article for the prestigious Energy Research Quarterly, and suddenly all her plans were in jeopardy. The committee hadn’t denied her tenure yet, but her department head had made it clear that it was only a matter of time. With no hope of a university job, she’d have to teach in a high school. She’d rather work in the fifth circle of hell.
The phone call from General Directions, Inc. had been out of the blue, but it felt like a potential lifesaver. The company wanted to meet with her. They were willing to fly her to Florida—Florida, of all places!—rent her a car, and put her up in a hotel room for a day or two, while they interviewed her for some undefined position. Despite the vagueness of the details, Akira hadn’t hesitated.
But she was hesitating now. She sighed. She couldn’t sit in the car forever. Might as well go in and get it over with. She took one last glance in the mirror and for the briefest of seconds her eyes met those of the boy in the back seat.
“Hey,” he said, pushing himself away from where he’d been leaning. “Hey, did you . . .”
Akira, though, was already out of the car, closing the door firmly behind her.
The brick buildings, lush grass, bright flowers, and flowing water in front of her were undeniably beautiful. But where was the research lab she’d been expecting? She’d pictured a square box, five stories high, with mirrored windows, set in the middle of a giant parking lot. The kind of place that could exist anywhere, neither fitting in nor standing out. The kind of place where maybe she could exist without fitting in or standing out.
This looked more like an extremely exclusive private school.
She made her way up the cobblestone walkway to the front door of the nearest building. Although the friendly guard at the security booth way back up a winding road had told her that she’d found her destination, she still felt unsure of herself until a discreet sign on the wall labeled General Directions, Inc. reassured her that at least she was in the right place.
General Directions. The name was so very generic.
At the front desk, she introduced herself, trying not to let her uncertainty show. “Akira Malone, here for an interview.”
“Of course.” The young blonde woman behind the desk responded with a warm smile, her eyes just a little curious. “Mr. Latimer’s been expecting you. I’ll show you right in.”
