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Diary of a Part Time Ghost (Ghosts & Shadows Book 1)

Page 18

by Vered Ehsani


  “Basically, yes.”

  “Well, that just tops the list of information I really should have had before, but didn’t. Listen, I’m kind of in the middle of something. You’re welcome to stay though.” I paused. I thought of what Dad would say. I added, “Until someone comes home, that is.”

  Bibi gazed up at the ceiling and pretended to think about the offer, and then shook her head. “No, thank you. All things considered, it’s best I keep moving. Remember: focus on what you want to reflect. What you focus on …”

  “You become,” I dutifully finished for her. “Yeah, I get it. Anything else I should know that you may have neglected to tell me before? You know, something that might be important in a life-and-death kind of a way?”

  “No, that’s it!” She smiled grimly. “And be careful!” Then she opened the door slowly, looked around, and dashed along the side of the house and into the tall hedge separating our yard from our neighbors’.

  “Great, just great,” I sighed and ate my food without really tasting it. Trying to push the new information out of my mind, I returned upstairs and closed my door. As I entered the veil, a flash of movement caught my eye.

  “Hello, Ash! Where’re you off to now?” Mir asked in a sing-song voice.

  “To help Sara,” I hurriedly answered, my attention focused on the other side. Already, the outline of several ships was forming, along with an overcast sky that threatened more snow.

  “Hmm,” Mir hummed, smiling. “I guess you’ve made your choice.”

  “Huh?” I turned my attention reluctantly to Mir. Why did she always show up when I didn’t need her? “Yeah, I guess. I really have to go now. I mean, before someone comes in and wakes me up, or tries to steal the book and trap me inside.”

  Mir just smiled, so without another word, I allowed myself to be sucked through onto Griffin’s Wharf. Only then did I realize that I had forgotten to ask about the strange shadow dog bite and itchy bruise. Then again, the bruise had faded so that I could barely see it.

  “Later,” I muttered as I surveyed the scene. An excited crowd was peering at the tea strewn about the harbor, while soldiers tried to maintain order. Despite the grim-looking soldiers and the frigid breeze that wafted off the water, the people congregating on the wharf were in a jubilant mood. They were discussing the previous night’s events amongst themselves with great relish, as if they had all been there.

  Careful to keep myself invisible, I turned my thoughts to Sara. In a blur of brick, I was back in an alleyway, floating outside the door that had, the night before, opened up to a meeting of revolutionaries. Glancing about, I solidified and knocked tentatively. Just as tentatively, someone approached the door from the other side and opened it cautiously.

  “Well, lad, where did you take off to?” Jack all but bellowed as he dragged me inside. “We missed you! Have a good rest, did you? Come on, I bet you’ll be wanting to see your friend, eh?” Without giving me a chance to respond, the burly man trundled down the corridor, through the living room, and along a hallway. “She’s in there.” He gestured toward a door.

  I entered, to be greeted by a still sleepy Sara who was just getting out of bed. “How’s it?” she asked cheerfully.

  “Fine, I guess,” I replied, still worrying about the possibility of getting stuck in the past. That was really not a possibility I looked forward to. “Where’s East Wind?”

  “He left already,” Sara mumbled in between yawns. “But I’m sure he’ll come back,” she continued at seeing my disappointment. She then leaned toward me and whispered conspiratorially while nodding toward Jack, who was just walking past the doorway, “I heard that they heard that there’s going to be trouble from all this. The British authorities have taken this as an attack on their sovereignty over these lands.” She nodded again and gazed at me, waiting for a response.

  “Yeah, that’s not the only trouble we need to worry about. We have to find your brother and father as fast as possible and get you away from Boston,” I said decisively, feeling all of a sudden unusually confident, committed, and purposeful. It was as if helping Sara was the very reason for my existence at that moment. As these sensations overwhelmed me, I forgot about myself and instead felt completely energized and deeply satisfied. The air in the room seemed to brighten, despite the gloomy sky outside and the dim flicker of the lantern. In the golden glow that enveloped me, I could see tiny globes float around the room, each a bubble of light and laughter.

  Absorbed in the joyful spectacle, I was completely unaware of being spoken to, until a large hand landed on my shoulder and shook me slightly. Immediately, the spheres and golden glow vanished, leaving only a slight echo of their presence, which gradually faded away. I looked up to see Jack’s kind, round face studying me.

  “You all right, boy?” the man asked with sincere concern.

  I grinned, still relishing the joyful energy that warmed me. “Never felt better.”

  “Well, that’s good, but it may not last.” Jack’s expression became grim, and his mouth was a thin, disapproving line. “We’ve been compromised. They know this is one of the centers of the Sons of Liberty. They’re coming.”

  Chapter 19

  Was he kidding when he said it may not last? His announcement pretty much annihilated any trace of good feelings I had. There was no need to ask who “they” were or what it would mean to get caught. Visions of the hangman’s noose flashed through all our minds. Well, definitely through my mind, and I assume the others were thinking similar dark thoughts. We followed Jack into the living room, where a clearly agitated Mr. Jill was waiting for us, twisting a cap in his hands.

  “Come on; hurry up,” Mr. Jill hissed and started toward the back door. At that moment, a sharp knock resounded through the hall. We all stared at the door, momentarily frozen. The sound was repeated, this time louder.

  “Are you expecting anyone else?” Mr. Jill asked softly, even as he moved toward the front of the house.

  Wordlessly, we followed him, and then stopped as we saw a flitter of movement through the curtained window of the living room. Someone was running toward the front door.

  “Any other exits to this place?” Mr. Jill asked softly, his expression desperate.

  “Nope,” came Jack’s solemn reply. There was yet another knock on the back door, which was echoed at the front door with great impatience.

  “Open up, in the name of the king!” a voice boomed out imperiously. “If you are innocent, you have nothing to fear!”

  “Yeah, well, that’s where the problem lies,” Jack muttered as he looked around frantically, perhaps hoping that a third door would magically appear in the worn-out carpet.

  “Can we climb out an upstairs window onto the roof?” I asked. I had a sudden image of us running along the overlapping rooftops of the closely built houses.

  Jack hesitated, but Mr. Jill suddenly took command. “We’ve no time to think about it. Upstairs we go!” he ordered, leading us past the bedroom where Sara had been in blissful slumber only moments ago. A set of creaky wooden stairs led us to a small landing on the second floor, where we saw three doors.

  “We need to go to the attic,” Jack stated as he indicated a narrow, steep set of stairs in the corner of the landing, which led to a trapdoor in the ceiling. Breathing heavily, he lumbered up the stairs and pushed against the trapdoor, which swung upward and back, revealing a dark, square opening.

  I had serious doubts about Jack’s ability to squeeze his frame through the small opening. Apparently so did Jack, for he hesitated again, until a thudding noise against one of the downstairs doors boomed through the house. Doubts aside, he heaved himself upward and wiggled and grunted until finally his feet disappeared into the darkness.

  “All right then!” he called down to us. “Quick!”

  Sara and I needed no urging as we heard the sound of wood cracking below. We scampered up the stairs, followed by Mr. Jill, who closed the trapdoor behind him, submerging us in darkness. As our eyes adjusted, we cou
ld see faint lines of light from cracks in the A-shaped roof. The attic was narrow and long, with a few boxes stacked against the sides and a lot of dust everywhere. Along the center line, the men could stand, but closer to the sides, they had to stoop. On either end of the attic, the wall was a triangular shape.

  “So now what?” Mr. Jill demanded, his eyes flitting back and forth, searching for a way out. There was a crash from below as one of the doors finally yielded to the blows, followed by triumphant shouts.

  “Can we fit through that window?” Sara asked as she ran to the farthest end of the attic, followed by puffs of dust, and opened the wooden shutters of a small opening in the triangular wall. A gust of cool air brushed by her. We quickly joined her and peered out of the small window; there was a brick ledge not far below, but it was very narrow. Farther below on the main street in front of the house, there were several horses and a soldier. I gulped audibly. Three floors looked suddenly very high, and the horses’ saddles seemed very small. I pulled back from the window and closed my eyes. That was not an exit I would choose to use.

  “Your idea may work,” Jack confirmed as he poked his head out carefully and twisted about to one side. His shoulders were too wide to pass through, so he craned his chin at an awkward angle in order to look up. “The roofs do meet up with each other. Only question is, how do we get up there in the first place?”

  “Well, that’s a good question,” Mr. Jill remarked as something crashed from inside the house. It sounded like glass breaking. “We may be able to push these young ones out, but I don’t see either of us fitting through.”

  I glanced behind. It wouldn’t take long before the soldiers checked upstairs, and we would be trapped. It was then I noticed how much light there was in the attic, mostly from the cracks between the roof tiles.

  “What about through the roof?” I suggested as I walked toward one particularly large crack in the lower section of the sloping roof, and pushed at the clay tiles. They shifted slightly with a grating noise.

  “Good idea, lad!” Jack enthused. “Out of the way!” With a grunt, he kicked at the area, and the tiles moved apart. Mr. Jill joined him, and after several kicks, there was a sizeable hole in the wall.

  “Much easier than climbing out the window,” I whispered.

  “Not to mention safer,” Sara added solemnly and with obvious relief.

  “Let’s go,” Jack ordered.

  As Mr. Jill squirmed through the hole, footsteps pounded up to the second floor. The soldiers were right below. Paler than usual, Sara wiggled after.

  “They must be in the attic,” a gruff voice shouted.

  “You go next,” I told Jack. “They’re not really looking for me.” I didn’t mention the little fact that I could always walk through the prison wall if necessary. I caught Sara’s gaze and knew she understood.

  “All right, lad,” Jack agreed and began to drag himself through the hole and then got stuck.

  “This thing is too small!” he grunted as I pushed from behind and the other two tried to pull the large man out.

  Wood creaked as someone began climbing up the stairs to the attic door.

  “Go!” I almost shouted as I threw myself at Jack’s backside. With a deafening cracking of tiles, the man fell out of the hole, onto the roof, and immediately began to slide down. Just before reaching the edge, he managed to stop sliding, stand up, and hop over the narrow gap onto the neighboring roof, followed closely by Mr. Jill and Sara. They began to climb up the other roof as I wiggled my way out to join them.

  “Not so fast, Ashish!” a gritty and horrible voice snarled, and I was jerked back through the hole. My arms scraped painfully against the jagged tiles, and I landed with a heavy thud. I wheezed and coughed as a cloud of dust engulfed me. Then strong hands spun me about so that I was staring into the familiar cold, yellow eyes. I think I hate yellow. I will never wear yellow again.

  I heard muted voices below and I hoped the soldiers would come into the attic. Maybe they would prevent Kali from doing anything too nasty. I glanced toward the trap door; a heavy box had been dragged over top. It seemed Kali didn’t want to be interrupted.

  “It’s time to go back, Ashish,” he sneered, his eyes bright with a crazed light as he dragged me farther away from the hole in the roof and then flung me against the wall nearest the trap door. “Show me the way out! Don’t pretend you don’t understand. No tricks. Just open the veil and we leave together.” As he spoke, he pulled out a dagger.

  The moment I saw the blade from my dream, I knew Kali had no intention of taking me. Okay, I knew that before as well, but the knife confirmed it. Maybe I would be left here, trapped in time, but more likely, that dagger would find its way into my heart, just as in the dream. I could almost feel it. I glanced over the man’s shoulder toward the hole, but the others were long gone. My bruised leg began to itch terribly, and I had to use all my will-power not to scratch it.

  “What do you want the book for?” I asked, stalling for time, trying to think of some plan to get out of this fix. No inspiration was forthcoming.

  The tall man’s mouth twisted into a sneer, and his eyes glowed inhumanly. “The book is nothing. It’s what it can teach that is everything. Surely you know that? Bibi really must have lost her mind, giving such a valuable tool to a child.” The man laughed mirthlessly. “I was going to follow Sara around until she found it, but this is so much easier and faster.”

  My mind buzzed with questions. How ironic that this heartless creature was the one who seemed most likely to answer them. “Where is it from? How old is it?”

  Kali shrugged, a derisive snarl contorting his stony face. “From a place that no longer exits, and a time before history began. I was betrayed. It was stolen from me, hidden and then lost.” He almost spat out the words, his voice full of hatred and anger.

  As the man spoke, something moved behind him. I tried not to stare as Sara’s legs appeared through the hole. “But I have the book already, so how can you also get it from Sara and bring it into the future?”

  “Time is not linear,” Kali almost hissed. It seemed his indulgent mood had finished. “And I don’t have time to explain. Stop stalling and open the veil.”

  Just then, Sara made her move and valiantly kicked at the back of Kali’s knees. One of his legs buckled under the impact but did not collapse. Instead, he twirled about, dagger slashing through the air just as I launched upward and forward, smacking straight into Sara who had dodged around our attacker. All of us tumbled backward.

  Before I could recover, I felt a set of hands grip me under the armpits and pull me up violently. Another set of hands smacked a roof tile onto Kali’s head. The man flopped backward, his eyes momentarily unfocused.

  “Come on; save the thank you for later!” Jack exclaimed with an almost jovial tone as he released me and Mr. Jill dragged Sara up.

  “Thank you!” Sara fervently said as we began to run down the sloping roof and up the neighboring one. We didn’t dare look behind, for we knew Kali wouldn’t be down for long. The two men quickly moved ahead and reached the top of the next roof before disappearing over the other side, angling their descent so that they approached the back alley, away from the searching eyes of the soldiers walking about on the main road in front of the houses.

  “How are we going to find my father and brother?” Sara asked somewhat breathlessly as we climbed yet another roof, the alley now below us on our left.

  “Don’t worry,” I tried to reassure her. “I’m sure Jack can help, once we get off this roof.”

  Suddenly, there was a shout, and we all jerked around in time to see Kali clambering out of the hole several rooftops behind us. Beside him was Captain Coalman. I couldn’t suppress my groan. The hunter had called in reinforcements.

  “Time to run, people,” Mr. Jill declared as he began to race along the tiles, followed closely by Jack, who was huffing and red in the face from the exertions. In less than a minute, the men were a full rooftop ahead.

  �
��We have to go faster, Sara!” I shouted as I reached the downward slope of the rooftop and began to slide down the tiles. I tried not to think how we would get down from the roof.

  “I’m try—Ash!” Sara shrieked.

  I spun about in time to witness Sara slip and tumble head over heels toward the edge and over. Then all I could see were two sets of white fingers gripping at the loose tiles. Instinctively, I glanced ahead for help, but our friends were out of sight. A victorious shout caused me to look in the other direction; Kali was racing over the house tops toward us, his vicious eyes fixed on Sara.

  “Sara!” I called out, ending the split second of hesitation as I dashed toward her. I caught a glimpse of large, gray eyes full of fear staring up at me, and then the tiles snapped beneath her fingers. She began to fall, arms and legs flailing about, her mouth frozen in a grimace of shock and horror.

  And in that heart-stopping fraction of time, at the very millisecond that the tiles broke and Sara began her descent and her expression turned from absolute fear to outright terror, I had an idea. There was no time to dwell on it, no time to doubt it, and definitely no chance to test it. In other words, it was another opportunity for me to act without thinking. One part of my numb brain screamed at me to stop, stay out of trouble, accept defeat, and go home. What was wrong with minding my own business and staying alive long enough to graduate from school?

  But another part of me decided to ignore any attempt at self-preservation. That suddenly strong and determined part was not going to sit on the fence. It had a plan and it knew without a doubt that I could succeed. I would succeed. I decided to listen to the new voice. So, without giving myself an opportunity to change my mind, I jumped over the edge, headfirst and arms stretched out toward Sara.

  All of this, of course, happened way faster than the time it took for you to read this. And what happened next also happened pretty fast. You’d have to measure with fractions of a second. And I knew I had only those fractions before we plummeted three stories down and smashed onto the cobblestones below. Still, those slivers of time stretched out and felt distorted and slow. I could see all the minute details of my rapidly moving surroundings: the narrow, snow-covered alley floor approaching from below; the stone siding of the buildings sliding past; Sara’s astonished face looking up at me; an icy breeze swishing at my clothes.

 

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