The sound of knocking jolted Eden from a restless sleep. She leapt forward and peered around, disoriented. It took her a moment to remember why she was so sad. Mom. My mom abandoned me, and my dad doesn't even care. Her belly ached at the thought.
Once again, somebody knocked. Maybe mom is home. Maybe she realized that she made a big mistake and came back. She opened her bedroom door and ran down the hallway. She leapt down the stairs, still smiling.
As she cracked the door, she said, "Mom, I'm — oh."
Her stomach plummeted. It wasn't her mom. It was two cops. One of them was a short, plump man, and the other was a tall brunette woman. The man stepped forward and offered his hand for her to shake.
"My name is Officer Wilson, and this is my partner, Officer Smith," the man said. "Is your father home?"
The hair on the back of her neck stood up. Why did he ask for my father and not my mother? She was rooted to the spot, unable to think coherently. The idea something had happened to Rebecca, even after she had run away, was too much to handle. But maybe that wasn't what had happened. Not at all. Maybe last night had made her paranoid, and her dad was in trouble with something minor, like illegal downloading or speeding.
"Honey, is your dad home?" Officer Smith stepped forward after repeating what Officer Wilson had asked.
Eden ground her teeth, clearing her thoughts.
"Um, yes, sorry." Eden opened the door wider and stepped to the side. "Please come in and sit down."
As she led the two police officers toward the table, she was aware they whispered back and forth to one another. She felt her stomach bubble with anxiety.
"What is this about?" Eden asked. "Is everything okay?"
"Please go get your father, and we'll explain," Officer Wilson said.
Eden nodded and beckoned them toward their seats. The two officers sat down. She bit her bottom lip and headed down the hallway and up the stairs. She went to her dad's room and walked inside. Her dad lay fully clothed on his bed, staring at the ceiling. When he saw her, he shot up and bared his teeth.
"What have I told you about knocking, Eden?" he asked.
"I'm sorry, Dad, but two police officers are here," Eden said.
"What is it about?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Did you do something? Because if you did…"
In panic, she raised up her hands and shook her head. "It wasn't me. I swear. I haven't done anything."
A part of her wanted to say, "I think it's about Mom," but she knew better. She left his bedroom and went downstairs and returned to the two officers. Both of them gave her a pitying look when she entered, and that set her even more on edge. Nobody stared at somebody like that without a reason.
"My dad is on his way," Eden said. "Is it okay if I stay?"
Officer Wilson nodded. Eden sat at the table and nervously bounced her leg on the floor. Her dad appeared a moment later, looking ruffled. That was unusual for him.
"Okay, what did Eden do?" her dad asked, stepping into the room. "Has she stolen something?"
Horror and embarrassment filled her.
"Eden? Is that your daughter?" Officer Wilson twisted in his seat and frowned at Eden. "She hasn't done anything wrong, Mr. Schmidt. I'm here because I have some bad news about your wife."
I knew it. All anger about her dad's accusation disappeared in the face of Officer Wilson’s news. Even her dad's face grew paler.
"What happened?" her dad asked.
"There was an accident," Officer Wilson said. "Your wife was traveling on the freeway out of town when a drunk driver went the wrong way up the ramp and hit her head on. There were no survivors. I am so sorry."
The news sank in. Mom. Dead. No. She tried to digest it, but found she couldn't. The officers were wrong. Rebecca was going to walk through that door any day now, and Eden would tell her how sorry she was about all of the awful things she had said. They would laugh about it over non-alcoholic strawberry banana margaritas, and everything would be okay.
"When did this happen?" her dad asked, his face still emotionless.
No, Dad, don't buy into their lies. Eden began to hyperventilate. They're lying to us. They are.
"Six o'clock," Officer Wilson said.
Eden stood up abruptly and took deep, shuddering breaths. Officer Smith stood up too, attempting to hold onto Eden’s arm, but Eden shook her off. All heads turned toward her.
"Honey, it's going to be okay," Officer Smith said.
"No, it's not," Eden said. "You're lying. You and your partner are liars."
"Eden, settle down," her dad said.
Settle down? Settle down, now? She gripped her head in her hands and tried to breathe. No air came into her lungs. It was like somebody was choking her from behind, stealing all of her breath.
Officer Smith stepped forward and hugged her tight, and Eden pummeled everything she could reach while in the embrace. Tears began to pour down Eden's cheeks, even though she had thought she was all cried out after Rebecca had run out on her.
Now she knew what was worse than having a parent run away. It was having a parent die, leaving her with bitter words she could never take back.
Chapter Seven
Silence filled the house. Ever since the death of her mother, the house was always quiet. Eden had the stereo on and the television blaring, but nothing helped. It was like trying to replace a missing limb with sand, except in this case the missing limb was a piece of her heart.
Eden walked into her parents' room and saw her dad had left things exactly the way they had been before. Whether this was a sign of grief or it just meant he didn't care, she did not know. She didn't have a chance to ask him, because he was gone all the time.
That case with the odd necklace is still on the floor. She stared at it. I don't know if I want to touch it. It'll remind me that I…
She sunk her nails into her thigh and felt physical pain crawl up her leg. It helped relieve some of the pressure she felt, and she was able to walk forward and kneel beside the case. It was something she had never seen before, which once would have shocked her but now did not. She had always thought Rebecca told her everything. Now she knew she was wrong.
I want to know what is inside. I want to find out what Mom was hiding, even if it hurts. With shaking hands, she opened the case and saw the same journal and wooden necklace. She picked it up and ran her palms over it. It was surprisingly warm, despite the fact the room was cool. She had an impulsive urge to put it on, even though just seconds before she had thought it ugly.
She took the two thick ropes, untied them, and then strung the cross around her neck. I wonder if Mom ever wore it like this. She doubted it. Her dad was anti-organized religion, and her mom had always spoken against it, too. She had grown up comfortable that way. Maybe the cross was a fashion statement or a family heirloom. It was hard to even imagine Rebecca sitting in a church, praying.
Pain seared through her heart at the thought. No more imagining her mom in churches. It reminded her too much of the funeral, which had been an awkward affair where long lines of people who hardly knew Rebecca lined up to give their condolences.
To distract herself from the searing pain in her heart, she opened up the journal to the first page. It said it was a journal belonging to Luna Badman. So this belonged to my grandma. Eden had not known her grandma well. Her mom had already been disowned at the time of her birth for reasons Eden did not know.
March 17th, 1929
On an archaeological search, George found this ugly cross. George sent it to me along with his letter. Because George gave it to me, though, I wear it every day. But it makes me feel crazy. Sometimes I swear that it grows hot when I'm near certain people. I don't like it. George teases me in his letters, so I've decided to keep it to myself. For now.
Gets hot? Was she talking about this old thing? She held up the necklace and studied it. It had felt hot when she first picked it up. Maybe there was something more to it than she thought. Then again, if it was found before 1929, the chance of i
t growing warm because of some technological reason was slim. Maybe it was just Luna's imagination. Eden knew she, herself, had a vivid imagination as well. That trait was probably hereditary.
She began to flip through the journal in curiosity. On every page, George was mentioned. But Grandpa's name is Luther, she thought, frowning. I wonder why Grandma keeps writing about George.
Just as she was about to read the next passage, the sound of a door banging downstairs got her attention. She heard footsteps heading toward the bottom of the steps.
"Eden," her dad said.
She was shocked. Was he actually calling her? She tucked the necklace into her shirt, got up, and headed down.
****
The next day was Saturday, and her dad was home for once. She sat at the top of the stairwell, flipping through the journal as he slept. She was secretly listening to him sleep, even though she was aware it was creepy. The fact she was that desperate for company made her feel queasy. She hadn't realized how much time she had spent with Rebecca until now.
She felt sadness overcome her again, and she fought down the tears. It was still so hard to believe her mom was dead. She kept expecting someone to come and tell her it was all a massive joke.
The sound of footsteps to her right caused her to straighten up. Her dad was awake. The door opened, and she glanced up, grinning hopefully. That was when she noticed his eyes were red and swollen.
"Dad?" Eden scrambled. "Were you crying?"
His face contorted in anger as he stared at her chest. It took her a minute to realize what he was looking at. The cross had come out of her shirt. She hurriedly tucked it back inside, aware of how he felt about religious symbols.
"What is that?" he asked, reaching forward and grabbing the rope. "Get it off your neck, Eden. Now."
"Don't." Eden grabbed one end of the lead and began to pull. "Please. It belonged to Mom. I want to keep it to remember her."
"The more reason to take it off," he bellowed, face growing red. "One less thing to remember that blasted woman and all that she did."
But Eden didn't want to let go. She felt as if the cross tied her to Rebecca somehow. Sure, she had never seen her mom wear it, but that didn't make it any less special. She had to keep it. She wasn't going to let her dad have it and then throw it away.
"Please, Dad," Eden said. "Please."
"No. Give it to me. I'm getting rid of it."
Her dad reached forward, yanking the necklace from her grasp. He pushed her shoulder with one hand, and she reached behind her, searching for a wall or banister to stop her fall. Only there was nothing there. She had forgotten that she was at the top of the stairs.
It was at that moment the world slowed down as if someone had pressed the pause button on her life, allowing her to memorize the complex details of the fresh western wallpaper, the upstairs doors, and every last stroke of a portrait Rebecca had hung on the wall. It was as if she was suspended for an eternity before her body began to take a deadly course back toward the ground floor.
Memories flashed before her eyes like a giant movie reel, spinning in her vision, and giving her the ultimate form of remorse. There was a force with her in those few seconds when her life flickered before her eyes. It was a kind, forgiving power that was unbelievably extreme, making her feel her own guilt a thousand-fold.
She peered deep into the eyes of her petrified dad as she plummeted down the stairs. It was at that moment she truly felt the fear course through her, for the truth had finally hit her — she was going to die.
Finally, after an eternity of falling, she collided with the floor. There was a moment of blackness as she tried to piece together what had happened — and then the pain hit. It was short and fast, but more brutal than any agony she had ever experienced before.
As quickly as the suffering came, it faded, leaving her with a sensation she couldn't quite place. It was freedom mingled with a sense of fear. On top of that, her skin tingled, and she felt lighter than she had in years. It was almost as if she could float away if she let herself.
"No. Oh, no," Osier said.
She glanced up and then stood easily after her fall.
"It's okay, Dad," she said. "I'm not hurt at all."
But her dad ran right through her. Literally, he ran through her. She gasped in shock and stepped back. That was when she realized the truth for the first time.
She was dead. Her body lay at her feet in a puddle of red that kept growing. Her head had been smashed against the wall, leaving a bloody dent. Her golden hair was matted around her face, and her eyes were wide and unseeing.
"No," she said, "this cannot be happening."
After moving forward, she bent down and touched her own face, only she didn't feel anything solid. She opened and shut her mouth several times in disbelief.
"Eden, wake up," Osier said, shaking her corpse. "Please, please. I'm so sorry."
"Dad?" She tried to touch him, to comfort him, but her hand went right through him. "Dad, please. I'm okay. Listen. I'm right here."
But he continued to rock her body and ignore her. She felt her heart grow cold. He couldn't hear her. Nobody could. Was this what death was? Being all alone in an empty world where she was forced to watch the living? It truly was horrible, not being able to help her dad. More than anything, she wanted to let him know that she was okay. Scared but not hurting. She was right by his side but invisible, as always.
The sound of movement to her right caused her to whip around.
"He won't hear you," said a dark voice.
The movement had been caused by a small, thin figure. It was the boy from the photograph, the one with dark hair and sharp, spectacular blue eyes. He leered wickedly and leaned against the wall. Eden found herself disliking him at once for some unknown reason, and she backed up.
Eden gasped. "You're a… you're a—"
"A ghost?" he asked. "Yeah, I am, but so are you. It's too bad. I liked watching you and your mom undress."
Her eyes narrowed in anger, but punching him could wait. Right now there were more important matters at hand. Like the fact he said she was dead and she couldn't reach her dad.
"I'm a ghost?" Eden asked. "I can't be a ghost. I'm just dreaming. I feel too normal to be dead."
"And what did you expect it to be like?" he asked. "Did you think that you would be a giant, floating ball of light and that you would fly around in fairy meadows? I feel sorry for you if that's the case. That isn't what it's like over here at all. You're still you. You'll always be you. It's just you in a different scenario."
"And what of my dad?" she asked. "I want to get through to him. You've been dead for a while, right, kid?"
Puffing out his chest, he squinted his eyes at her.
"I am not a kid. My name is Alexander, and I am one hundred and one. That is more than five times your age. You are the kid, not me." Alexander took a deep breath. "And like I said. You're dead, he's alive. We're on different planes. There is no way to contact him."
"There is a way," Eden said, turning around and sitting next to her dad, who still rocked her body. "I'm going to stay here until I find it. Or until I wake up from this horrible nightmare. Perhaps I'm in bed right now."
"Suit yourself," Alexander said, shrugging. "I'll be here when you give up and decide to move on to the next plane, where you're supposed to be."
"Move on?"
But he was already gone. He'd walked through a wall and disappeared. Eden spun around and once again attempted to attend to her dad.
Chapter Eight
Eden's dad didn't see her. She sat by his side at a hotel as he stared at the wall with a blank expression on his face. In his hand, he held a bottle of alcohol. Every time he brought it to his face to drink, she tried to stop him by grabbing his arm or the bottle, but it was like trying to touch a hologram.
"Dad, please stop drinking," Eden said. "You've had a bottle already."
But he didn't listen to her. Nor had he listened to her when he decided to enter a
strange hotel instead of going home, either. It was like being with Rebecca all over again.
That was when she realized something.
I can see Alexander. She sat up suddenly. I can see Alexander, which means I can see other ghosts, and my mom, too…
She heard her and her mom's last moments together replayed in her head.
"I hate you! I hope you die!"
What if she could atone for that? What if she found Rebecca and asked for forgiveness? She whirled around, studied her dad, and saw his sad face. She was torn. Despite her bond and her fight with her mom, she still loved her dad, and felt guilty about making him this depressed. She had never seen him drink this way. Her dad was the uptight one, the one that always wanted to remain perfect in the public eye. Now he burped on subways and wept in public.
She reached up and touched his face, stroking only the surface, and being careful not to push too much and slide through. It was a bit like massaging the top of a TV screen. As she did this, her dad shut his eyes and fell asleep. She did not believe it was her magical charms that had lulled him. It was the alcohol, plain and simple.
"Dad, I love you so much," she said. "I am so, so sorry that this happened."
A loud snore erupted from his throat, and then a tear trickled down his cheek. She stared at it. Maybe he was just dreaming about her, but she could swear that he leaned his head closer in her direction. As if he was listening.
"Dad, can you hear me?" she asked.
He snored and then, just barely, she heard him whisper, "Yes…"
"Dad." She laughed, though her heart seared with pain. Though she wanted to cry, she realized that ghosts couldn't. There were no tears in her eyes, just sadness and emptiness. "Dad, I'm so glad that you can hear me. I've been trying to talk to you all day."
"Dead. So dead." Osier let out another snore.
"I know I am, Dad, but it's okay over here." Or at least I think it is. I'm not sure what happens next or why. "I'm still me."
"My fault," Osier lamented. "My entire fault. Eden, baby, I'm sorry."
Until We Meet Again Page 3
