Manifest

by Artist Arthur

  The black fog, rolling along the ground behind the car.

  “You see it, don’t you?” I whisper but don’t know why. “Please, tell me you see it, too?”

  Beside me Jake nods. “Yeah, I see it.”

  The minute my head hits the pillow I fall asleep. Today’s been eventful plus I didn’t get much sleep last night what with my little visitor showing up. Praying I don’t have another visitor tonight, I let my breathing fall into a level pattern and try to rest.

  Obviously that is not meant to be, or maybe I do sleep for a while at least.

  All I know is that at some point cold fingers moving along my skin wake me up. I think maybe it’s just chills since my sheet has fallen off me but when I reach for it, it’s not there. I move my feet thinking I’ll find it but it’s gone. Must have fallen on the floor.

  So I lean over, switch on the lamp and let out a scream that could surely wake the dead.

  Oh, my bad, the dead are already awake and they’re standing in my room!

  When the screaming is so loud I think my head is going to explode I thrust my fist inside my mouth to stifle the sound. I’m beginning to think my screaming must be a part of these dreams or else Gerald or Janet should have come running by now. I’m still scared out of my mind as I’m staring at at least ten corpses lined up around my room like bodyguards.

  They all look old with raggedy clothes hanging from their bones. Bits and pieces are missing from their faces—that’s probably why I’m still shaking with fear. They’re ugly and scary and…they have that same glow around them that Trina does.

  I remember wondering why she had that glow and Ricky didn’t. The woman on the beach and the girl in the school had glowed, too. I think now it’s because they’ve already crossed over, like these other dead folk have.

  With my heart still hammering, I finally get up enough nerve to pull my fist from my mouth. Of course I’m drooling like I did that time my mouth was numb from having a tooth pulled. My hand is now wet and just a little sore from my teeth baring down on it. I wipe it against my shorts and try to speak again.

  I’m trying to gain control. I’m the medium, not them. They have no power without me. (I read that online, too.)

  “Who…what…I mean…why are you here?”

  The one at the end, the taller one with what looks like remnants of a suit barely holding on to his bony frame, turns to me and acts like he’s going to walk closer.

  I start moving backward until I hit the wall and then I’m like a spider, practically crawling upward to get away from the ghost.

  We’re here because you can help us.

  I’m already shaking my head no. “I can’t help you. You’re dead.” Like I need to remind them of that.

  But you can hear us, we have messages.

  “I’m not a messenger,” I say even though I know I am, sort of. I wonder if I inadvertently called them here, like in my sleep or something. Our powers are stronger now that we’ve all linked up and they will continue to grow. I have no way of knowing what I can do at this point.

  We know you can hear us. There aren’t many who can.

  “I can’t help you,” I say, my voice sounding deceptively stronger.

  She lies! another one shrieks. This one is close to my closet with long, dirty—I guess it used to be hair—hanging down her back. She won’t help us! Let’s take her.

  What? Take me where?

  Okay, here goes that scream again. And I pray this time that someone living hears me!

  I’m still screaming when they all start moving toward me. I start to pick up stuff, whatever is close to me, throwing it at them. When I finally yank my lamp out of the socket and hurl it at them, not only does the entire room go dark but a loud crashing echoes in the darkness.

  twenty-three

  “Calm down, Krystal. Take deep breaths,” Gerald is saying, his warm breath brushing over my face, his thick hands squeezing my arms. He’s shaking me, not hard, but like he’s trying to get me to snap out of it.

  I feel like a rag doll, my body limp in his arms. I try to speak but my voice is a dull rasp and hurts like all get-out. The pain brings tears to my eyes even before I see Janet silently crying beside me.

  Gerald sighs. “Calm down and tell us what happened. You broke the damn window.”

  He’s upset and Janet’s crying. I’m trying to scream—again—but the sound is buried somewhere deep in my chest. My eyes can’t hold out anymore so tears rush down my cheeks. When Gerald finally lets me go I crumple to the floor. It takes Janet a few seconds before she kneels down beside me and rubs a hand over my head.

  I instantly pull up my legs and let my forehead rest on my knees. Just a few minutes ago my room was full of spirits, but they seemed different than the ones I’d seen up till now. Angrier, more dangerous. I threw the lamp in an effort to keep them away from me. I guess the lamp broke the window.

  The sequence of events really doesn’t matter now. Gerald is pissed. I see him crossing the room and punching numbers into his cell phone. I don’t know who he’s calling but I’m almost positive my stay here, in this house with him and Janet, is now officially over.

  “What happened?”

  Dr. Whack Quack is sitting across from me with his notepad and pen. He’s watching me like I’m on a fifty-inch flat screen. Then again, that’s how they all watch me here in the hospital.

  I’ve been here for almost two days—they can only keep me for observation for forty-eight hours. Then they have to prove that I’m crazy enough to admit me. Janet won’t say that I’m crazy. I heard Whack Quack trying to get her to admit it when they were standing in my room and thought I was asleep. Gerald hasn’t really said much, which is surprising.

  But Janet keeps crying, keeps insisting this is all her fault and that I just need my dad.

  She is kind of right.

  Only I think I need her and my dad.

  “I had a bad dream,” I say simply.

  Whack Quack nods. “So you threw the lamp out the window?”

  “Have you ever had a bad dream?” I toss back at him.

  “I have,” he answers.

  “And has it ever scared you so bad you felt you had to protect yourself?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you already know what happened to me.”

  “But I’ve never thrown a lamp out the window.”

  I roll my eyes. “Well, hooray for you.”

  He taps his pencil against his chin, still watching me. “I wonder if this is more like a cry for attention.”

  I don’t say anything because he didn’t ask me a question. I’m only going to answer his questions so I can get out of here.

  “Do you want to get your mother’s attention?”

  I shake my head and answer honestly, “I want my mother to listen to me.”

  “What are you trying to tell her?”

  “That I’m unhappy. That I want things to go back the way they were.”

  “And what if that’s not possible? Are you prepared for that answer? What are you going to do if she says things have to stay the way they are?”

  I shrug because I never thought of what her answer might actually be. For so long I’ve just wanted to say that I’m not happy. I don’t really know how I think she’s going to fix that.

  “Do you think your mother is happy?”

  “I don’t know. Sometimes it seems like it, but the other day she was crying.”

  “Do you know why she was crying?”

  “I don’t.” That’s a lie. Janet was crying because I yelled at her.

  “How did you feel when you saw she was crying?”

  Like an idiot. “Sad,” I say instead.

  “Did you want to help her? Do anything to keep her from crying?”

  “Kind of.”

  I shift in the chair; it’s uncomfortable now. This office isn’t like Whack Quack’s other office. This one is all white, with no comfortable chairs and no books. No clocks. I don’t like this one.
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br />   “What can I do to help you, Krystal?”

  “Let me go home.” And when I say that, I’m surprised that I’m thinking of the house I live in with Gerald and Janet.

  “Do you think you’ll throw anything else out the window?”

  “I can’t predict what my dreams will be.” Or who will try to haunt me in those dreams next. More than just those spirits scared me, it was the knowledge that there’s something else, something dark, lurking, waiting for me and Jake and Sasha.

  “I want your mother to join us in our next discussion. I think there are some things you two need to talk about.”

  I look away from him because I don’t know if Janet will talk to me and I don’t know if I’ll be able to say anything to her. It feels like I want too much and scares me to think I may never get any of it.

  “Blue Bird,” Daddy says, his arms wide open as I make my way back into the hospital room.

  I’m so happy to see him I run right into his arms. Now I know that everything is going to be okay. It doesn’t matter that Whack Quack made me feel bad today, that what he’s saying makes me sound like I’m a spoiled brat and need to get myself together—kind of what Ricky said, too. But I don’t want to hear it from either of them.

  “Hi, Daddy,” I cry, hugging him tight.

  He hugs me tight, too, lifting me off the floor and spinning me around. I love the feel of his arms around me. It makes me feel safe. He smells like cologne, a great manly scent that I relate only to him. And when he finally releases me, he kisses my forehead and then my cheeks.

  “You okay?” he whispers, his hands cupping my cheeks, lifting my head up so I can stare right into his eyes. Eyes just like mine.

  I nod my head, too emotional at the moment to speak.

  “You scared about ten years off my life,” he says, breathing heavily and laying my head on his chest for another hug.

  “Sorry,” I mumble.

  Then he moves to the bed. He sits and I sit beside him.

  “So tell me what’s going on? Why are you destroying furniture and breaking windows all of a sudden?”

  I shrug but then Daddy looks at me funny, like he’s not accepting that answer.

  “I had a nightmare,” I say because it’s true. Whether the grown-ups want to believe me or not. I’m not about to say it was dead people asking me for help because I know I’ll never get out of here if I do.

  “And that made you break the window?”

  “Somebody was attacking me. I thought I had to defend myself. I’m not crazy, Daddy.”

  He chuckles. “I know you’re not crazy. But I also know you have a temper. So were you mad with somebody when you did this? Gerald maybe?”

  Daddy knew me well. I did have a temper, or at least I used to. Since moving here to Lincoln I didn’t have much of anything. “He gets on my nerves,” I say instantly.

  Daddy laughs. “I figured.”

  “But that’s not why I threw the lamp. I told you I was scared and I was trying to stop whoever was attacking me in the dream. That’s all.”

  “Your mother says you haven’t been eating.”

  “Not real hungry, I guess.”

  “Self-imposed hunger strike?”

  I kind of smile. “No.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Can I just go back to New York with you? Because that’ll make me feel better. I won’t be angry. I’ll eat. I’ll sleep and not dream.”

  Then Daddy’s whole face changes. He’s not smiling anymore. His eyebrows kind of straighten out and so does his posture. His arms fall from my shoulder and he puts his hands in his lap.

  “That’s kind of why I’m here, Krystal.”

  Uh-oh, he didn’t call me Blue Bird.

  “Some producers bought the comic strip. They’re talking about making it into a movie. So, ah, I’m moving to L.A.”

  I take a minute to digest what he said. “Oh. Well, that’s good news,” I say, trying to sound upbeat. “So I can go to L.A. with you?” I don’t know if I’ll like living in California. But anything has got to be better than Lincoln.

  “No. You have to stay with your mother.”

  How did I know he was going to say that?

  “Why? I know a lot of kids who choose which parent they want to go with. I’m choosing you.”

  “I know, but our situation is different. Your mother needs you and you need her.”

  “I need my father. And why did you get a new phone?”

  He looks like I caught him off guard. He turns to me and then says, “Amanda and I both have new phones now. We’re on the same account.”

  I pause, pull my head back and stare at him. I know I’m looking at him like he’s crazy but that’s because I’m trying to figure out what he just said. “Amanda?”

  I only know one Amanda. I don’t know how many Daddy may have known.

  He lets out a deep breath. I mean, his cheeks puff up and I actually watch as the air blows out.

  “Yes. Amanda. She’s going to L.A. with me.”

  Okay, I’m old enough to know about the needs of men and women. I’ve witnessed my mother leave my father and marry Gerald—the creep. So it stands to reason that if there is no possible way my parents are getting back together—which seems perfectly clear to me at this point—that Daddy would get a girlfriend or a wife, too. I don’t have to like it, Janet has already proven that point. But at least this time I’m going to ask the questions I want.

  “So this Amanda person can go to L.A. with you but I can’t? Does she live in New York? Why don’t you just leave her there?” My voice sounds snippy, with a lot of attitude and just a pinch of spoiled brattiness. I don’t like it but I can’t help it right now.

  “Amanda and I are engaged,” Daddy says finally. He’s not looking at me now but then he turns and stares directly at me. “She’s going to have a baby.”

  If he had smacked me I wouldn’t have been more shocked. If the sky had opened up and whisked me away in a dark, blustery tornado I couldn’t have felt more winded and confused. “A baby? Your baby.”

  “Yes.”

  And just as I’m about to ask my next question, there’s a soft knock on the door. And in she comes—without being invited, I might add.

  The only Amanda I know.

  She is tall and skinny—well, except for the stomach that looked like she was carrying quintuplets. Her hair is long and brunette, shining like a mink coat as it hangs past her shoulders. Her eyes are still light, gray I think, her lips pouty but spreading into a smile as she looks at me.

  Amanda Spinelli, my old babysitter. The one who used to sit in my room and read to me while Janet and Calvin were at work. She was young. Younger than Janet and much younger than Calvin.

  My stomach starts to hurt, that hot pain that I thought was only reserved for Janet.

  “How pregnant are you?” I blurt out.

  Her smile falters only a bit before she says, “I’m almost due.”

  Almost due means nine months, right? We left Daddy and New York nine months ago. Janet got a quick divorce but I didn’t think of why. I assumed she just wanted to hurry up and be rid of Daddy because she said he needed to grow up. Not because he was moving on…with Amanda.

  “You cheated on my mother with my babysitter?” The question is bitter, accusatory, and so is my glare at him.

  He stands up from the bed, Calvin Jefferson Bentley, the man I love so dearly, the one I looked up to and waited to rescue me.

  “That’s grown folks’ business and something I’m not going to discuss with you.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’m not stupid,” I say, folding my arms across my chest. “So you and Amanda and your new baby are moving to L.A. to start a new life. A life without your first child?”

  “It’s not like that, Krystal. You’ll always be my daughter. You’ll always have a place in my heart.”

  I nod my head. “Like an old shoe or a first car? I get it.”

  “Don’t be smart,” he says, a frown etching across his
brow.

  “You can always come and visit,” Amanda offers.

  I chuckle. “Yeah. Right.” Like that little family scene is ever going to take place.

  twenty-four

  Silent tears fall, sliding down my cheeks to land on the pillow. They’ve created a wet spot but I don’t care. I just don’t move my face so the cool yucky feeling doesn’t bother me that much. Besides, the heavy pain in my chest is much worse.

  Are you disappointed with your father?

  I remember Dr. Whack Quack asking me.

  Hell, yeah! I feel like yelling, but my voice is gone.

  Are you disappointed with yourself?

  Yep, I feel like an idiot. I believed my mother was wrong, that she’d left my father without even giving him a chance. Actually, I figured she wanted to make me suffer, too, except when she started crying.

  Inhaling deeply, I try to keep my lip from shivering. I feel like a fool. And what makes it worse is that I still haven’t said anything to my mother. Gerald was with her when she came into the room. Calvin and Amanda had still been there but I ignored them. Even when Calvin tried to hug me and tell me he’d call me later tonight. I just sort of let him do all the hugging.

  I noticed that my mother didn’t look at Calvin or Amanda. Gerald looked pissed, like he wanted to leap across the room and pound on Calvin. They’d suggested I stay in the hospital one more night, just so the staff could watch me as I slept. I wanted to go home, but then I was too tired to argue so I didn’t. I just curled up in the bed and lay there.

  “I love you, Krystal,” my mother whispered in my ear as her hands brushed my hair back. “I’ll be here early in the morning to get you. Okay?”

  I only nodded because my throat felt clogged and I knew words weren’t coming out. Then I felt another hand on my back.

  “Get some rest. You’ll come home tomorrow and we’ll put this all behind us.”

  That was Gerald. The calm tone to his voice surprised me. I thought I should probably say something in return or at least look at him but I was just so tired of all that’s been going on that I couldn’t. I just closed my eyes and wished for a few minutes of peace.