Ghost Maven

by Tony Lee Moral

  “Wow. It’s beautiful, but they should have sprayed some Lysol or something. It smells like a locker room in here,” I said, turning my nose up at the unmistakable stench of adolescent exertion.

  “I have attended quite a few of these affairs over the years. Believe me, this is one of the better ones.”

  “Oh you have, have you?” I asked. “So I’m not your first date here? And I take it I won’t be your last, either,” half-teasing, but the remark’s truth stung. I was only the latest in a long line of Monterey High School dates for Henry.

  “When you’ve lived in this town for as long as I have, you are often asked out by the local ladies,” said Henry, sounding ashamed and defensive all at once.

  “Let’s try to find Emily,” I replied, eager to change the subject. “She’s wearing a long green dress.”

  “Okay,” said Henry, slipping his hand in mine.

  I loved the idea of him holding my hand, as it drew attention to the fact that we were a couple. Smiling, I spied Emily in the corner, looking glitzy and glamorous.

  Over the last several days, I had tried not to give Emily’s visions too much thought. After all, even she had admitted that they didn’t always come to fruition. For example, she hadn’t predicted that I would fall into the bay, that Henry would rescue me, or that I would carry on an affair with a ghost. So, I tried to bury it in a corner of my mind.

  “Hey, you,” said Emily when she saw me. “I’m glad you went with that dress. It looks so good on you.”

  “Emily, I’d like you to meet Henry,” I said, by way of introduction.

  “Pleased to make your acquaintance,” said Henry, then offered his hand for a formal and polite shake.

  “It’s really great to meet you, Henry,” said Emily, her eyes glowing as she appraised him. “Alice talks about you a lot—I mean, like, all the time.”

  “I do not!” I said, glaring at Emily, my cheeks burning with redness.

  “Likewise,” said Henry. “She says you are one of a kind.”

  “That’s true,” Emily said, smiling and taking it for a compliment. “I am.”

  “Would either of you ladies care for some punch?” Henry offered.

  We nodded.

  “I shall return shortly,” he said, then walked away to the punch table.

  “Well? What do you think of him?” I whispered, watching Henry walk away.

  “Oh my God, Alice! He’s totally hot,” said Emily. “I can’t believe you’re here with him.”

  “What else?” I demanded. “Do you get any other vibes from him?”

  Emily shook her head. “Uh-uh. It’s kind of weird. I mean, I don’t get any vibes at all, and I usually get something when I meet someone for the first time. You know, like a pet name. . .or their favorite food or. . . if they like baseball—something. But with him, nothing—as though a big wall surrounds him, one even I can’t penetrate.”

  I nodded and spied Henry at the punch bowl. I had a similar sense about him. An enigma, a keeper and protector of deep secrets. I would love to know those secrets, I thought then more specifically to see if he was hiding anything from me.

  I asked Emily ,“Any flashes since the other day?”.

  “Nope, nothing,” she replied.

  I was almost disappointed. I thought again of the girl underwater, wondering who she was and what that all meant.

  Breaking me free of such grim thoughts, my ghostly boyfriend came back with three glasses brimming with punch. He gave one each to Emily and me.

  “To your good health,” he said, lifting his glass.

  “Bottoms up!” Emily squealed.

  We toasted each other and drank the punch.

  I smiled, feeling happy and a bit proud. As I looked around the party, I sensed that all the girls were looking at Henry. I knew they were curious about how the incredibly handsome guy ended up the awkward new-girl-who-almost-drowned. It was a different feeling to be the center of attention, and for a moment, I had a sense of what Heather felt like. It also made me feel relieved—Henry isn’t only a figment of my imagination, other people see him too.

  Without a doubt, Henry was the best-looking guy at the party. Sure, there were quite a few hot jocks, but Henry’s well-cultivated qualities and old-fashioned manners made them seem young and small in comparison. There was something elegant about him and it had a little to do with his height since he stood at least six feet. Much more than that, it was his walk—a confident stride, shoulders thrown back, and steady gaze. I felt the buzz of excitement in the air around us, heard the whispers, and I reveled in them.

  “Who’s that guy?” the senior girls whispered to one another.

  “Maybe he’s from out of town,” one said, “like L.A. or San Francisco or something.”

  When another couple waltzed into the gym, my balloon was deflated and found myself instantly jerked to earth. Heather—the homecoming queen herself wearing King Channing on her arm. She wore a striking, golden gown with white trimming, her hair braided with golden and white little flowers, lightly flowing down her back. Completing the ensemble—a silver tiara bringing out her shiny, blonde mane, giving it an even shinier appearance. Something inside me changed when I saw her this time. For the first time since I’d started school, I felt just as pretty and special as she. In Henry’s company, I realized how Heather must have felt every day of her life, knowing that everyone envied her. It gave me a tiny glimpse into her world, and I couldn’t deny that I liked it.

  Emily gaped at Heather’s gown with envy as though transfixed by its beauty. Suddenly, she cupped her hands at her mouth. “What’s wrong?” I asked, “Don’t you think it’s gorgeous?”

  “It’s not that,” she stuttered. “It’s. . . I don’t know,” said Emily. “I’ve seen that dress someplace before.”

  “Where? At the mall the other day?”

  “I-I don’t remember. . .,” Emily repeated, shaking her head. “Maybe.”

  The music from the band started, and Heather and Channing were the first to take the dance floor. Of course, looking absolutely stunning, like a wedding cake topper.

  Emily continued to stare at Heather, and just as I began to ask if she’d seen a flash or something, Henry interrupted me. . .

  “May I have the pleasure of this dance, milady?” He asked, holding his hand out for me to grasp.

  “I’d love to,” I replied, gazing—smitten—into his eyes.

  Henry and I walked out to the dance floor, right beside Heather and Channing. Some of the jocks applauded, which made me smile. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Christian monitoring us, looking chagrined, but all I cared about at the moment was Henry.

  Heather caught my eye and gave me a wink of approval. I smiled back, and for a moment, felt accepted into her circle. This made me supremely happy. Henry had his hands around my waist, with mine over his neck.

  At the end of the dance, Henry leaned down and kissed me on the lips.

  By the time I surfaced, the music had stopped, and it seemed everyone watched us. We caught a few wolf-whistles from the jocks and Emily smiled broadly. Poor Christian tried to look at everyone else but me.

  “Thank you for the dance,” he said, his face mere inches from mine.

  “You’re welcome,” I said, flustered. “Boy, it’s hot in here,” I observed, certain that the actual temperature had nothing to do with it. I started to wave my hand in front of my face, trying to cool myself down.

  “Would you like another drink?” said Henry.

  I nodded.

  “All right. I’ll be back in a second,” Henry said. Then he made a beeline back to the punch bowl now swarming with thirsty dancers, like a watering hole in a smoldering African savannah.

  I went back to stand next to Emily.

  “You guys were smokin’,” she said, wearing a wide smile. “I mean, off-the-charts hot.”

  “The kiss was incredible,” I replied, touching my lips.

  “What was it like?”

  “Like—”r />
  “Hey, Alice,” interrupted a deep voice.

  I turned around and saw Christian, looking very smart in a brown suit, white shirt, and blue tie.

  “Great party,” he said, looking around semi-awkwardly, trying to strike up a conversation.

  “Yeah,” I replied. “Nice suit, but have I seen it before?” While it felt a bit cruel and judgmental, I couldn’t help but wonder if he owned only one.

  Christian laughed. “Probably. I wear it to church a lot. Anyway, who’s the guy you were dancing with?”

  “Oh, that’s Henry, the guy I’ve been seeing recently.”

  “Oh, I see,” said Christian, with more than a hint of disappointment in his voice.

  “And you know Emily,” I said, trying to deflect attention from myself onto my friend.

  “Yeah. Hi, Emily,” said Christian politely.

  “Hi,” said Emily, smiling broadly. “Christian. Last time I saw you, we all went kayaking together, when Alice decided to take a dunk.”

  “Did you have to remind me?” I teased.

  I caught Emily giving Christian that special smile of hers, the one she usually reserved for special friends, and I began to wonder if it would be feasible to play matchmaker. Needless to say I loved Jane Austen’s Emma.

  Christian smiled but seemed more interested in talking to me. “I’m looking forward to our book club on Saturday,” he said. “Have you read Ethan’s choice? I had no idea he was such an Alcott fan.”

  “I’ve been really busy, but I’m hoping to catch up over the next few days.” The truth—I’d only started the opening chapter. I had been so preoccupied with Henry that I had no time to think about the book club or anything else. My own life was becoming so exciting that everyone else’s fiction seemed to pale in comparison.

  Henry returned with a couple more glasses of punch, one for me and one for himself. As he handed the glass to me, he nodded politely at Christian. I missed the silence between them while awaiting introductions, but I was struck by how different they were, not only in looks but in mannerisms.

  “Uh. . . This is Henry,” I stammered. “Henry, this is Christian, from my school book club.”

  Henry and Christian shook hands like a couple of boxers before a match. I quickly downed my punch in one swig, like an old lush.

  “Hey! Steady now, girl!” Henry said with a laugh.

  “Would you like to dance?” Christian asked me unexpectedly.

  “Er, sure. Henry, do you mind?” I asked.

  “No, by all means,” said Henry cordially, taking the empty glass from my hand.

  Still, I hesitated, biting my lower lip with anxiety.

  “Don’t worry, Alice,” said Emily. “I’ll take good care of him.” She then looped her lanky arm in Henry’s as he just stood there impassively.

  Christian led me onto the dance floor, quickly filling with other couples. I danced awkwardly with him for a moment, my whole body stiff and my mind on Henry. After a while, I managed to relax a little.

  “You’re a good dancer,” I said, offering him a genuine compliment.

  He smiled, showing a perfect set of white teeth. Close up like that, I could see his good-looks and I noticed his healthy complexion, his nose speckled with cute freckles.

  “I’ve been to a lot of church dances in my time. That’s the benefit of being the son of a minister,” he said. “Some people say religion is just a lot of song and dance. I guess they’re right!”

  I laughed, but my chuckle was cut short when I caught sight of Henry watching us from the corner. Emily chatted to him amiably, but all the time, I felt Henry’s eyes watched me. I didn’t mind. I liked that he was so protective.

  Christian seemed to pick-up on it and stiffened a little. “So—what’s the story between you and this Henry-guy? Where did you meet him? I mean, he doesn’t look like he’s from around here.”

  “Henry saved my life when I fell into the bay. Don’t you remember?”

  “No. I had no idea. So what’s that mean? You owe him or something?”.

  “No. It only means he saved my life,” I replied evenly. “Besides, I like being with him. He makes me feel special.”

  “That’s because you are special, Alice. Still, I think you deserve better.”

  The remark irritated me, especially since Christian didn’t know Henry well enough to judge him. “Why would you say that? You don’t know anything about Henry.”

  “Maybe not,” replied Christian, “but something about him makes me. . . I don’t know—uneasy.”

  “Uneasy? In what way?”

  “He has this weird, dead look in his eyes, for one thing. Surely you’ve seen it. He looks almost like he’s stoned or something.”

  “Well, he’s very much alive, believe me,” I replied, still stinging from Christian’s remarks.

  He offered a halfhearted little laugh. “Well, maybe you’re right. I don’t really know the guy the way you do. I’m sorry I said anything.”

  The music stopped, and I thanked him for the dance, anxious to return to Henry. I rushed over to him with a smile on my face.

  “Enjoy the dance?” he asked politely.

  “It was okay,” I said, linking my hands in his.

  “I thought I would have to come and rescue you again,” he said pointedly.

  “I don’t need rescuing this time,” I said, letting myself slip back into his arms.

  The music changed to a slow song.

  “Shall we?” he offered.

  I nodded. Henry and I stepped back on to the floor and danced to Stevie Wonder’s “Woman.” I put my arms around his neck, breathed in the scent of his skin, and enjoyed being the luckiest girl in the world.

  Henry was an incredible dancer, better than Christian. There was something real old-fashioned about the way he held me and danced. In that embrace, I felt entirely safe—he could dangle me over the Golden Gate Bridge and I wouldn’t be afraid. I rested my cheek against his shoulder as we danced.

  When the music stopped, we carried on dancing, as if in a trance. Then he kissed me fully on the lips.

  I surrendered myself to him, but I eventually had to come up for air. I looked into Henry’s eyes, as he smiled broadly. “Okay, Soldier,” I purred. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

  Henry nodded. “Hurry back.”

  I went looking for Emily and found her chatting to Juanita Sanchez, talking about boys. “C’mon,” I said. “We need to talk. Come with me to the ladies’ room?”

  She nodded.

  I grabbed her arm, and we hurried across the dance floor and turned left at the end of the corridor that led to the girls’ locker room.

  “Looked like you were drowning out there,” Emily said, referring to our kiss.

  “I know, and sometimes I feel I’m in way over my head, and the beach is very far away.”

  “Well, just keep swimming, honey, and don’t stop,” said Emily. “That guy is hot…and he’s obviously hot for you.”

  I giggled. “I could use some fresh air. Wanna go up on deck?” I asked.

  Emily nodded. “Let’s go.

  We headed to the balcony that overlooked the outside basketball and tennis courts. As we climbed the stairs, we heard loud, angry voices coming from above. The door to the deck stood open, and through the gap I spied Heather and Channing arguing loudly.

  “I just don’t want other guys looking at you,” said Channing, pacing around Heather, with her elegant arms folded across her chest—didn’t Heather do anything that wasn’t glamorous?

  “You’re being ridiculous. Guys look at me all the time. You know that, Channing,” Heather snapped.

  I tugged Emily’s sleeve, motioning that we should go back downstairs. I wasn’t much into eavesdropping.

  Emily, however, pulled back, insisting that we stay. She placed a finger over her lips and whispered, “Shh!”

  “I know what you’ve been doing behind my back!” Channing shouted. “The whole school knows! You think I’m just some dumb
jock, but—”

  “No, what I think is that you’re nuts!” Heather shouted.

  “Emily, we should go,” I whispered.

  Emily reluctantly nodded and followed me as we tiptoed downstairs.

  Seconds later, Heather came charging down the steps. We managed to hide behind the stairs at the bottom as she swept past, her gown glittering as she disappeared down the corridor.

  “What was that about?” I asked Emily.

  Emily shrugged. “I dunno, but whatever it is, Channing’s sure riled up about something.”

  “C’mon. Let’s get back to the party.”

  When I returned, I spotted Henry and Christian by the punch bowl—their voices loud, drawing stares from curious onlookers, including some of the teachers.

  “I just think Alice should be allowed to make up her own mind without you interfering,” Christian said. “She’s a decent girl.”

  “If anyone is interfering, it would be you,” replied Henry.

  “Who are you, anyway?” Christian asked. “I know I’ve seen your face before. Where?”

  “What’s going on here?” I demanded, rushing up to them.

  “It seems preacher boy has a problem with me,” said Henry, glancing derogatorily at Christian.

  “Don’t call me that, and don’t mock my faith,” said Christian. “The devil has taken your soul.”

  Henry took a swing at Christian and sent him crashing to the floor.

  “Henry, stop!” I cried.

  Henry stepped back for a moment, stunned.

  “You okay?” I asked Christian.

  Christian nodded, too surprised and humiliated to do anything but rub his jaw. I helped him to his feet. By that time, some teachers came over to see what was causing all the excitement and the jocks gathered like Romans to the gladiator games, hoping to witness a fight.

  I looked around for Henry and saw him rapidly heading for the exit. “Look after Christian,” I said to Emily.

  She nodded, looking stunned. I quickly followed Henry out the door. “Henry!” I screamed, running after him. “Henry, wait up!”

  He turned around, his eyes shining wildly.

  “Go back to the party. You belong there, not I.”