Brown Girl Ghosted

by Mintie Das

  I take a bite of my PB and J. Just chewing it hurts. Lukas passed on an ice pack for a pretty big cut that I gave him, so I did the same for the wounds that Naomi inflicted on me.

  “Lukas.” Even saying his name out loud pisses me off. “Let’s begin with you explaining why you wanted to murder me. And don’t say that wasn’t what you were up to ’cause I know it was.”

  “From what I’ve observed of you in the past few weeks, Violet, usually you refuse to admit to the existence of things that are happening directly in front of you,” Lukas barks. He pauses, takes a sip of his water, and forces a kind of lopsided half-grin. Unlike the rest of his body, his smile muscles aren’t worked out that often. I have to admit, it almost makes him look like a person, although I still haven’t figured out if he’s even human.

  “The Aiedeo sent me here,” Lukas continues in a more even-tempered tone.

  Of course my vicious relatives are behind this. “The Aiedeo want to kill me?”

  “No! They not do that to you,” Dede protests, but I notice that Lukas says nothing.

  I’m about to press him but I get totally distracted by his eye. The cut that I just gave him seems to be fading already. “What the hell is going on with your face?” I walk over to him for a closer inspection. As I reach out to touch his eye, Lukas grabs my wrist and I jump. His lightning reflexes certainly startled me but there’s something else. Before I can figure it out, he lets go. “I’m a Vida warrior.”

  “Vida almost like Aiedeo. They human too and they have very special power,” Dede explains as she sprinkles more black pepper in her tea.

  “It’s a different set of abilities and we have to earn them like the Aiedeo. I can see in the dark and heal myself like you’re witnessing now.” Lukas traces a finger along his right eye, which, like the rest of his face, is almost back to normal. “However, unlike the Aiedeo, we’re immortal.”

  I wonder how old he is. Sitting there in his jacket and jeans, he doesn’t look that much older than me. Although he certainly doesn’t seem like a teenager, unless he’s a teen from the cast of Game of Thrones or something. He’s just way more intense than any guy at my school. I think it’s because he’s a soldier. My father’s work has put me around military men my entire life and now that he’s said it, I can totally see it. I watch him out of the corner of my eye. His posture is rigid and he holds himself like he’s ready for battle at any time.

  “My shama is about Naomi, right?”

  Lukas pauses for a second like he knows what he’s about to say will make me flip. “They need you to find Naomi’s preta.”

  “Did the Aiedeo kill Naomi? Is that why you were pretending to be an intern at the funeral home? So you could off her?”

  “No, neither the Aiedeo nor I had anything to do with Naomi’s death,” Lukas says.

  I have no reason to believe him but I do. That doesn’t mean that I think the Aiedeo and he are blameless.

  “Naomi’s death was part of a cycle that is separate from ours. It was already in the making long before the Aiedeo came into the picture. However, when the Aiedeo learned of its inevitability, they decided to use it for your shama,” Lukas continues.

  “Instead of trying to stop it.” I think of my mother’s death.

  “The Aiedeo do not have the ability to prevent a death that is already predetermined.”

  I’ve been fed that exact line many times before. “Except that someone prevented you from killing me. When you got the call. There was something about ‘termination aborted.’” Those are about the only two words I remember from Lukas’s phone conversation, but they do the trick. His face darkens slightly. “Who saved me? Because it certainly wasn’t you.”

  “Why, I believe you saved yourself, Violet. When you stopped time.”

  I almost smile. The guy is as good at avoiding the truth as I am.

  “You play stop game?” Dede asks, then nods. “That mean you starting remember.”

  I ignore Dede and keep my eyes on Lukas. He meets my gaze but now his stare goes deeper, like he’s searching for something. Searching me for something. I know what he’s doing because I can do it too. At least, I used to be able to, but now like so many of my Aiedeo powers, I’ve forgotten how to read people. It’s not reading someone’s mind, although at one time, I could do that also. Lukas is trying to read my soul—more specifically, he’s trying to read my karun. Or so the Aiedeo call it; it refers to a person’s true self. Good luck with that, I think, because I’ve buried that so deep, it’s gonna take way more than a fiery stare from across the kitchen for you to get inside of me.

  He realizes I know what he’s up to and he suddenly looks away. I think he’s even blushing. Only a little, because guys like him don’t embarrass easily.

  “How did you do it, Violet? I mean, stopping time is quite an advanced skill.”

  I smile coyly and shrug. “Not sure what you mean.”

  I see that Dede is about to say something and I give her a look to stay quiet. She has no game when it comes to the Aiedeo. But the less they know—and that definitely goes for Lukas—the better.

  Lukas realizes he’s not gonna get anything more from me and shifts his focus. “Let’s return to the matters at hand. Your shama is to find the preta who killed Naomi. Dede can explain what a preta is to you because, according to the Aiedeo, she’s well versed in this area.”

  Dede beams like she’s been given the Medal of Honor. “Preta is like monster inside human. It hungry soul that come from person who is selfish—he greedy. It grow and grow until it take over human. They very tricky. Preta hide so you no see but they out to get you.”

  I feel all kinds of shivers run up and down my spine. “WTF? How am I going to find this preta if I can’t see it?”

  “You have to learn how to see it and destroy it when you do,” Lukas answers.

  “Who’s going to train me?”

  “This isn’t a traditional shama where you’ll be trained by an Aiedeo. There’s no time for that. However, I will teach you how to fight,” Lukas adds.

  “I just beat your ass right now, so how’s that gonna help?”

  Lukas snorts. “You’re a terrible fighter with sloppy technique. You’re lucky you even got the few punches in that you did. I didn’t fight back because you simply weren’t worth the effort.”

  I flip him off as I wonder why we’re even having this discussion. I admit, on one level, I know it would be good to help Naomi, even if she is wicked and horrible. But not if it means doing anything with the Aiedeo.

  “You have until they bury Naomi’s body to complete the shama.”

  “Or what?” I ask, although I already know the answer. But I want to hear Lukas say it.

  “You will be eliminated.”

  “I told you, Dede!” I slam my fist on the counter. “Those bitches wanna kill me!”

  “No, Violet, they don’t,” Lukas says. “You’re one of them. You’re their blood. And you have the potential to be the most powerful Aiedeo that ever existed.”

  I cock my eyebrow. “What are you talking about? There’s no way! I mean, I know that whole stopping-time thing was pretty awesome, but I’m an Aiedeo Lite. I didn’t even finish my training.”

  Lukas looks at Dede. “You haven’t told her?”

  “Chht. Violet not care when I talk about Aiedeo. Maybe she listen to you.”

  “Every Aiedeo earns her powers during her training. Except you already had powers when you were born. You’re not like any of the Aiedeo except Ananya. She was powerful before the gods made her an Aiedeo.”

  I just stare back at him in shock. If this were a cartoon, I bet my mouth would hit the floor. I was powerful before the Aiedeo? After a few seconds of silence, I turn to Dede. “You knew this?”

  “I know you always have power and I try to tell you that. But you never want to talk about it.” Dede looks at me like I’ve just won back-to-back Olympic golds. “I didn’t know you as powerful as Ananya.”

  I take a deep, shaky brea
th and repeat what Lukas said because I need to hear it again to make sense of it. “So you’re saying that I’m the most . . . powerful Aiedeo?”

  Lukas crosses his arms. “The complication that you present is that you don’t stand up for anything—not the Aiedeo, not even for yourself. For lack of a better term, you’re a lost soul, which makes you vulnerable.”

  “I’m sixteen. Give me a break!”

  “Age isn’t the issue. You know what’s at stake here. Jyoti told you the war is coming and we are all preparing. The Aiedeo need you. But they also can’t afford to have you out there on your own. You would be too vulnerable to the destroyers; they could easily take you and use your powers against us.”

  “So if I’m not with the Aiedeo, I’m against the Aiedeo.”

  “The Aiedeo are giving you this shama because they want you to be able to use all your powers to their full potential. They’re not the enemy.”

  Right. “I did find my power when I stopped you from killing me.”

  “Yes! That was incredible, but that’s just one of your powers. And you stopped time for only a few minutes—”

  “At least five.”

  “Fine. Five minutes. Imagine what you could do if you could stop time for an entire day.” Lukas lets out a frustrated sigh, which is about the most emotion I’ve seen from him. “Everything is locked so deep inside of you. The Aiedeo are giving you the shama because they need to know if you’ll do what it takes to unlock it.”

  “And if I don’t, then it’s—” I mime slitting my throat.

  “Mami, please! Aiedeo try to help you!”

  “No, Dede! Don’t you dare try to spin this like the Aiedeo are doing me a favor! They want to use me.” I’m about to say something else but I just don’t see the point. Dede will always be on the Aiedeo’s side. I’ve had enough. I slide off my stool and walk out the door.

  * * *

  I turn the corner a couple of blocks from my house. I don’t usually go for walks but I need to get away from Lukas, Dede, Naomi, and the Aiedeo. Yet they’re all that I can think about. I pass by the street where Meryl’s mom lives and walk in the direction of the basketball courts. The sun is already setting and I can’t believe everything that’s happened today.

  I think about that famous line from The Godfather Part III, Michael Corleone saying, “Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.” The difference with me is that I guess I was never really out of the Aiedeo.

  A faint breeze rustles through the willow tree in the Sanderson’s yard. My hair is still damp and I realize I have only my tank top and shorts on. It’s chilly but I don’t want to go home yet.

  “Hey, it’s a ghost!” I hear someone call out from behind me. I wonder if Naomi is following me and I almost jump out of my skin. I feel myself trembling, then feel two strong arms around me.

  “Na-Naomi,” I mumble.

  “You’re shaking. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Austin says. He continues to hold me. “I was just teasing you about ghosting me ’cause you kind of disappear on me all the time. You left on Saturday without saying goodbye and you haven’t returned my text.”

  I say a small prayer of thanks that I’m wearing a bra but I wonder if I’ve brushed my teeth since morning. I’m also painfully aware that my head is totally messed up right now and my stomach is tied in knots and the last time I was like this, I puked on him. A huge part of me wants to throw him off me and run away but this feels really good. He’s warm and safe and doesn’t have anything to do with death. I feel tears coming to my eyes and before I can stop them, I start to cry. I bury my face in Austin’s chest because I am mortified and I don’t want him to see me but also because I want to hide inside of him.

  “I know Naomi was a friend of yours,” Austin says softly as he runs his fingers through my wet hair. “It’s hit us all hard.”

  A pebble of guilt forms in my throat. I’m crying for my own problems, not Naomi’s, but if that’s what Austin wants to believe, I’ll go with it. “Thanks for letting me break down,” I whisper after what I hope are my final sobs. I dry my eyes with the backs of my hands and look up at him. God, he’s perfect. A lock of his floppy hair falls over his right eye and I’d like to reach up and brush it away but I don’t trust my body right now.

  “Anytime. I’m just glad you’re actually talking to me.”

  He smiles and I want to melt. “I’m sorry. I’ve been . . . distracted.”

  He nods. “That’s cool. But when you’re less distracted, I’d like to hang out. Get to know you better.”

  “Yeah,” I respond because I can’t come up with anything else to say. We’re standing so close that I think I hear his heartbeat but that may be mine.

  I know it’s coming but that doesn’t make me any more prepared. He lifts my chin with his finger and dips his face closer to mine. We’ve kissed before but it’s different this time, maybe because we’re not buzzed on wine coolers and there’s not a raging house party in the background. It’s only him and me out here alone at the basketball courts.

  I lean in and our foreheads touch. We breathe each other in. Shaky, shallow breaths. His thumb strokes my cheek and I’m dead still from excitement and fear. Austin’s lips brush against mine and he kisses me.

  It’s a perfect movie kiss, the kind you see at the end of a romantic comedy. Except this time, I’m the girl in the movie. It doesn’t make me forget everything that’s going on, but for right now, I let the world around me fall away.

  Fourteen

  “WAKE UP, MY LITTLE BITCH,” someone sings into my ear.

  My eyes pop wide open and I find myself lying face to face with Naomi. She’s covered in thousands of tiny maggots that have eaten through her eyes and are creeping out of every crevice in her rotting, naked body.

  My heart hammers against my chest, and sweat beads form along my forehead. I jump back so fast that I fall off my bed. Just as I land on the floor, I jerk awake. Slowly, I lift my head and look around. I’m having a nightmare. Maybe.

  I wait until my pulse stops racing and I can muster up enough courage to check my bed. With one eye still closed, I cautiously peek up. Waves of relief come over me. No Naomi. But my happiness quickly fades as I become aware of the cold, heavy fear that I went to bed with last night. I’m stuck in a real-life nightmare with the Aiedeo and there is no waking up from it.

  After I came home from my walk, Dede was waiting to teach me all about pretas. We fought when I refused to listen to her and we didn’t speak for the rest of the night.

  I totally know that the reluctant superhero is a tired storyline. After all, what asshole doesn’t want to be a hero? Apparently, I am that a-hole.

  But there’s so much more to it than that. I stand up and check my mobile. My alarm will be going off in two minutes, so there is no point in trying to get some more sleep. I head to the bathroom.

  Being an Aiedeo feels like all the different sides of me being pulled apart at once. It’s my dead mother versus my absent father. My Indian versus my American. My normal versus my freak.

  I flash back to my awesome make-out session with Austin last night. It was really good, but it was also more than that. It felt like for the first time ever—I fit in.

  I undress and leave my clothes in a messy pile on the bathroom floor. Hooking up isn’t that hard because it seems anywhere in the world that you go, there are plenty of horny guys to choose from. But having a guy actually like you for more than a night is harder to pull off. I’ve never dated anyone. That doesn’t make me that unique; many of the other girls at my school have never had a real boyfriend. There are probably a ton of reasons why a guy won’t ask me out here in Meadowdale, but I can’t shake the idea that the main one is that I’m brown. I know that I risk losing my membership to the NAACP just for thinking it, but I can’t pretend it doesn’t cross my mind.

  I remember when Jay Whitfield asked me to the homecoming dance my freshman year and then had to cancel because he said his mother didn’t think we’d l
ook good together in the pictures. I remember how Tommy Carlson told me he liked me but said he wasn’t sure what his parents would do if he started dating a “black” girl. I remember Kyle Ramsey saying that I could have been hot if I were white.

  All three of these boys were obviously douchebags, and I know there are a lot of very decent white boys out there, but they aren’t asking me out. Neither are the small handful of nonwhite boys at my school because, quite frankly, they’re busy chasing white girls.

  I did what I was supposed to do each time and told Jay, Tommy, and Kyle to FO and walked away. Meryl and Jess shunned them too. But it still hurt. I wish it were the kind of hurt that I can forget. Even if I rationalize that their racism is their problem, not mine, it sticks with me deep down inside.

  That doesn’t mean that I think it would be easier for me if I moved back to India. I might look like everyone else there but I don’t blend in. I’m an ABCD—an American-born confused desi (the Hindi word for Indian). Yes, I was born in India, but I left at the age of three, and it’s like other Indians can sniff me out as the different one before I even open my mouth.

  Whenever I go back there, I wear a pajama kurta, I eat with my hands, and I puja at the temple, although I don’t know who it is I’m praying to exactly. My Indian relatives try to make me feel like a part of the family but I’m constantly reminded of how much of a foreigner I am. I can fake the customs and even speak the language to a point. But I’m not in on the secret codes, the mores, the rites of passage that make up their Indian identity. I’m simply not one of them.

  Not to mention that I don’t live in Assam. I live here in Meadowdale. I have already put in the work in this place. It’s taken almost a lifetime of blood, sweat, and tears, but for the most part, I have convinced the residents of this town and, more important, my classmates and teachers that I am one of them. I’ve just never convinced myself that I’m one of them.

  I step into the shower and crank the knob to as hot as it will go.