by Ann M. Noser
Claire blocks my way, arms out. “Please let a doctor check you over first.”
“Claire, I’m sorry, but I don’t know how much time I have here. I need to hurry.”
She flinches. “Oh, dear. Bernard said the same thing when he came back. Say, Julie, maybe you should call Kevin while Emma changes. He’ll know what to do about Charlie.”
In the tiny bathroom, I yank off the hospital gown. Steve’s letter falls to the floor. I pull on my street clothes and shove the letter back into my pocket. I throw my serious bed-head hair into a ponytail. A last glance into the mirror gives me a moment of panic. I may look normal now, but I know I’m not. There’s still a wisp of an image hovering next to my reflection, but it’s fainter than before.
You can do this. You have to.
I burst out of the bathroom and find the other three standing at attention.
“Let’s go.” I head for the door.
“Here.” Father Joe hands me a white baseball hat with a cross embroidered on it. “Pull it down over your eyes.”
“Good idea.” I position my ponytail through the hat.
“I’ll leave first.” Father Joe puts a hand on the door. “You follow me. Claire and Julie will take up the rear. Let’s go.”
Claire and Julie chat about the weather as we stroll past the nurses’ station. My heart races as I use them as a human shield. After Father Joe turns a corner, he holds open the door leading to the stairwell. We hurry down the steps and out to the parking lot.
“Get in.” Claire beeps open her car locks. As she drives, Julie talks on the phone with Kevin.
In the backseat, Father Joe turns to place a hand on my shoulder. “Do you feel any different?”
What a strange question. “Yeah, I guess I’ve always been different.”
“No, I mean—did the exorcism work?” He asks. “Are you free of the demons now?”
We pass a row of neon-colored restaurants. My stomach growls so loud it’s a bit scary.
“Don’t worry. Those weren’t the demons talking. I’m just hungry.” I lean toward the front seat. “Can we stop and get some food? I’ll pay you back later, I promise.”
“Sure thing.” Claire pulls into a drive-thru. “And it’s on me.”
After I order, we ride on as I shovel in a burger, fries, and a very large dish of ice cream. Scraping the bottom of the bowl, I still want more. I rub my demanding belly. “I’m so hungry it’s making me dizzy.”
Father Joe watches me eat. “This isn’t the typical response to an exorcism.”
“Sorry. It’s my first time.”
He leans closer. “Are the demons still inside you?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure.” I wipe my face with a napkin, because the close way he’s watching me makes me feel like I’ve got ketchup in my eyebrows or something.
He takes out a cross, then hesitates. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“That’s okay. I’ll do it.” I grab the cross, anticipating a burning sensation in my skin.
There’s nothing. I rub my fingers over the wood and metal. Nothing. Not even a spark.
Father Joe releases a slow breath. “That’s a relief.”
With a trembling hand, I pass the cross back. I’m not sure if the spirits are gone, or if this is just a trick. I still saw something in the mirror. My stomach churns, and I feel queasy. By the time we get to the jail, I need a bathroom.
Immediately.
I race to the front doors and run smack into Kevin.
“Where’s the restroom?” Great. Why do I have to ask him of all people this question?
“Right there.” Kevin flinches and points down the hall.
I race to the bathroom, burst into a stall, and hang my head over the toilet.
My stomach gurgles and I want to vomit.
Something heavy falls on top of me, knocking me onto the floor.
Trembling, I scan the stall for my attacker. Am I imagining things or are the demons back?
Mustering my courage, I stand up and stagger from the stall.
“Oh, maybe I ate too much.” I groan.
There are three other stalls in the bathroom. I feel a wild desire to kick in every door, searching for my assailant-just like what happens in the movies. Instead, I use my trembling hands. My heart stops short each time I push open a metal door and find nothing. After searching the last stall, my stomach churns. I’m going to be sick again! I rush for the toilet, letting the door swing shut behind me as I heave up empty.
A loud scuffling noise echoes over by the sinks.
My hand trembles as I peek through the door crack.
Across the room a man gets up off the floor and turns to face me.
My breath catches in my throat. “Jake! It’s you!”
I rush toward him.
“What’s going on?” he growls, his face contorted with fury. “Where’s Emma? What did you do to her? I swear I’ll kill you if you hurt her.”
Pain blinds me as his fist makes contact with my face.
hat the Hell was that for?” I cradle my bloody nose and shuffle to a sink.
“Cause you’re an ass—wait a minute.” Jake steps closer. “What’s going on? You sound like Emma, but you look like—”
“That’s because I am Emma! What’s wrong with you?” I shove tissues up my flowing nose. “So much for you being in love with me. You just punched me in the face!”
Jake pales. “Are you sure you’re Emma? Because you look like Steve. Oh, damn it, there’s two of you in the mirror.”
“Huh?” I follow his glare and discover a double reflection in the mirror.
My reflection. And someone else’s.
Someone I’m starting to hate—Steve. Plus a sliver of an image of someone else, but Jake doesn’t seem to notice that. Only I do.
Jake’s hand rises to his mouth. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“No way!” I moan. “You’re telling me I have to share my body with Steve? Yuck! I can’t believe this!”
Steve smirks from within our double reflection. Just like the last time he came back from the dead, he’s using a host body. Only this time around I’m the host.
“Get out!” I swat at his glimmering image.
“Not an option.” Steve smiles his politician grin, flickering to the forefront. “Now, Jake, apologize for punching a girl.”
“Wait until the next full moon when you guys separate. Then it will be your turn.” Jake flushes. “But I am sorry, Emma. I didn’t realize—”
“That’s okay. I know you thought I was Steve. And thanks for reminding me about the full moon, because I’d like to hit him, too.”
Steve chuckles. “That’s what Jake gets for following me.”
“Following you?” Jake asks.
Steve shrugs. “After you rudely barged into my office, I decided to enact Plan B.”
I replace the soaked tissues with new ones. “Didn’t you think I could deliver your precious note all by myself? I’m perfectly capable, you know.”
“Believe me. I had no plans to join you, Emma. It’s not safe for me to be here. I’m a magnet for trouble now.” Fear flashes across Steve’s face in the mirror. “You can blame your dear, sweet Jake here for this little mishap. When he burst into my office and threatened me, I had to make a quick escape. Apparently, he followed.”
“So now I’m a host for the undead.” I stare at our dual reflections. “That’s just great. When I felt sick to my stomach, I hoped it was because I ate too much.”
“Trust me.” Steve says. “I’d rather be in my own body like Jake. But I’m stuck in here with you.”
“How come I’m not in there too?” Jake asks. “Like last time, I mean.”
Steve laughs, and the sound makes me shiver. “Yes, everyone knows you’d do just about anything to get into Emma’s pants.”
I flush, pissed and embarrassed at the same time. Wonderful combo.
“I don’t know how I jumped into this body,” says Steve. “Con
sider yourself lucky.”
Jake clenches his hands. “Steve, I swear to God, I want to punch you again so hard right now.”
“Please don’t.” I fuss with my nose some more, which has almost stopped bleeding. “I can’t believe I’m the host body. I never thought this would happen.”
“Why not?” Steve says. “With you popping back and forth out of life and death, you’re the perfect vehicle for the dead. Besides, due to the circumstances, I did enlist you as a potential host in case it was necessary.”
“Thanks a lot.” I want to flip him the bird, but since we’re in the same body-what’s the point? “Just tell me one thing: are you in there alone?”
Steve curls his lip. “You mean you’re still possessed? I thought God would take care of that.”
“I’m not sure they’re all gone,” I explain. “I haven’t heard any voice since I got here, but there’s still something in the mirror. Can’t you tell?”
He glances around, but I’m not sure what he sees. “I don’t know what to tell you. I can’t see them or feel them, but maybe it’s not the same as before.”
I finish wiping my nose and throw away the bloody towels. “I guess we’ll find out sooner or later. One more thing: can I assume that normal people will see me instead of you?”
“The only way to find out for sure is to leave this bathroom,” says Steve, always trying to be the boss. “Remember to avoid any mirrors. Hopefully, no one can see me. I promise to keep quiet.”
I glare at his image in the mirror. “Steve, your promises don’t mean much anymore. We need to get out of here without causing a fuss. Jake, let me go first. Wait a couple minutes before you come out. We’ll have to play it by ear after that.”
Jake nods. “Okay, but holler if you need me.”
Steve smiles, showing way too many teeth, like a predator. “Even if no one sees me, I’m delighted to be back. I can’t wait to get started.”
“You jerk, just shut up and stay hidden!” I snap at him, then storm out of the bathroom, straight into the arms of my mother.
“Emma!” Mom grips my shoulders, probably bruising me all over again.
“How on earth did you get here so fast?” Thank goodness she only sees me.
“I sped.” She brushes the hair from my eyes. “What did you expect? When you weren’t in your hospital bed, I assumed the worst. But this is a miracle! Your father will be thrilled. Except for the fact that you’re here, out of bed, and not under a doctor’s care—WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?”
Like a deer in the headlights, I panic, unable to answer.
Mom gapes. “What’s wrong with your nose?”
“It’s nothing. Just a little nosebleed.” Actually, Mom, the love of my life just punched me in the face because he thought I was a man. Brilliant. And nothing you need to know.
“But you never get nosebleeds.” She examines me so closely I’m certain she can somehow detect Steve under my skin. “Not even as a little girl.”
Claire, Julie, and Father Joe hover nearby in a cluster, watching us. Kevin speaks with a police officer on the other side of the room, pointing at some paperwork.
“Mom, where’s Dad?” I ask, partly to change the subject, but, really, where is he?
She averts her gaze. “Well dear, you know he’s been having some heart trouble…”
“What?” My own heart stalls mid-beat. The rest of the room fades away. “You never told me that.”
“The stress has been too much for him.” Mom drops my arms and plays with her purse strap. “He felt some fluttering and is having it checked out. Don’t worry. I’m sure it’s nothing.”
I reach for her hand. “Mom, are you okay?”
“That’s a silly question.” She pulls away to dig in her purse. “My whole family is in the hospital, or should be in your case, and you ask if I’m okay?”
“I want to see Dad first thing after I free Walker.” I’m having trouble breathing normally, and I don’t think I can blame that on Steve.
Mom glares. “After what that man did to you, he’s your first concern?”
“But he didn’t do anything to me, Mom. This is all a big misunderstanding. I need to clear him of these bogus charges and then…” My words falter as I watch Jake sneak out of the bathroom and head for the exit. Where’s he going? How will I find him again?
The others move toward us en masse, blocking Jake from view.
“Cheryl.” Claire pats Mom’s shoulder. “Emma promised to go back to the doctor for a thorough check up as soon as Charlie was set free.”
“Yes, Mom. Just let me do this first. I feel really guilty about what he’s going through because of me.”
“Okay.” Mom sighs. “But we’re going right back to the hospital afterward.” Being raised Catholic herself, guilt is something she respects and understands.
Claire pats my shoulder. “That’s the plan.”
Kevin approaches, frowning at me as if I’m an alien he has to babysit. “Emma, you need to make a statement. Alone.”
“Alone?” I tense.
He nods, business-like. “Don’t worry. I’ll stay and talk you through it.”
I stifle my discomfort with Kevin’s plan. Great. I’d love to be left alone with Mike’s brother. I feel so much better now. Or not. Kevin probably wants to hit me, too. At least that’s what he told me a few months ago.
Kevin waves away the others. “Okay, everyone, this is turning into a circus. I have to ask you to leave.”
“But I just got here.” Mom gapes. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Kevin smiles, and I’m reminded how handsome everyone else thinks he is. “I’ll take good care of your daughter, I promise. But this could take hours. You should be with your husband.”
Mom blinks back tears. “Kevin, I can’t thank you enough. Your whole family—you, your mom, and your cousin have all been so wonderful.”
“Cousin?” I ask.
Julie catches my eye. “Yes, my nephew Ryan was here helping, before he had to leave on his trip…” Her voice wavers.
Oh, she means Mike! Of course, they’d have to call him something else around Mom.
Mom gushes. “You’ve all been such a help to me this last week.”
“We wanted to help,” Kevin assures her. “Listen, I know my way around this place. I’m the one best suited to help Emma during her statement. You should focus on John right now.”
“Cheryl, he’s right.” Julie takes Mom’s arm. “Walk out with us.”
It will be easier hiding the truth from Mom if she isn’t here. Even if it means I have to hang out with Kevin. Alone. Except for Icky Steve.
“I heard that” Steve mutters within my head.
“Yes, Mom, go ahead,” I say. “I’ll call you when I’m done, and say ‘hi’ to Dad for me, okay?”
Mom’s nostrils flare, but somehow on her the gesture looks pretty. “Honestly, I don’t know which one of you to worry about more. Call if you need me, Emma.”
As Mom exits the police station, Steve whispers snide comments in my head. Doesn’t Kevin hate you after what you did to his brother? Why would he help you?
“Shut up, you parasite!” I hiss out loud, by accident.
Kevin gives me a puzzled look as we settle on a bench. “Have you decided what you’re going to tell the police?”
“Uh. No.” I swallow, realizing how stupid I am not to have dreamt up a story already.
“You can’t just tell them Charlie’s innocent,” Kevin whispers. “You have a lot of injuries to explain. Or at least you did.”
“I know. How about I say that all my wounds were self-inflicted?”
Kevin shakes his head. “Emma, they’ll haul you to off to the Psych ward if you say that.”
“Right.” Of course. Why didn’t I think of that? “How about I tell them that I’m clumsy?”
“That won’t help Charlie.” Kevin frowns. “It makes you sound like a classic abuse victim.”
I fiddle with the hem of my shirt. �
��Um… do you have any ideas?”
“Yeah, I do.” Kevin leans closer. I brace myself not to back away. “You’re going to tell them you took up mountain biking this summer and had a few tumbles. Phoebe already parked her bike in your apartment, so we’re covered in that department.”
“We are?” How did Phoebe get in my apartment? And how does she know Kevin? Oh, yeah, through Mike.
“And you were having a ‘binder burning’ at the park with all your school notes.”
“A what?” Why would I burn my school notes? I love school. Oh, wait, that doesn’t matter.
“Lots of college kids do that to celebrate the end of the school year. Normally, they don’t pour multiple cans of lighter fluid on them at once unless they’re totally drunk.”
“Could I say that?” I interrupt. “That I was drunk?”
“No. They already checked your blood alcohol level and it was zero. Tell them you were never a Girl Scout, and you didn’t know how to start a campfire.”
“How did you know I wasn’t a Girl Scout?” I ask.
He avoids my gaze by glancing across the room. “I spent a lot of time with your mother at the hospital the last few days. I learned more about you than either of us is comfortable with.”
“Oh. I see.” I stare down at my hands, flustered. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure. Go ahead. Shoot.”
I clear my throat. “Why are you helping me? I don’t understand it. I thought you hated me.”
He clears his throat, scratching his head a moment before answering. “There’s a couple reasons, actually. One is that Mike forced me to help you—so did my mom, actually.”
What? “Your mom?”
“Yeah. She said it would be good therapy for me… as if I haven’t had enough of that, already,” he mutters.
“You’ve been in therapy?”
“Yeah. Nothing serious. I mean it won’t end my career as a cop before I even get started, or anything. Church stuff, mostly. You know, grief counseling.”
“Oh.” Probably a good idea.
“And Mike coming back really helped.” He squirms a bit on the seat next to me. “Am I supposed to thank you for that, or something? I don’t know.”
“No, that’s okay.” Fire burns my cheeks. I’ve never felt more awkward. I need to change the subject fast. “So, about Walker. What else should I say?”
