by H. A. Wills
“If you need anything, call me,” he murmurs into my hair, then turns, and with swagger, walks out the front door calling over his shoulder, “You’re with me, angel boy.”
“Who do I pray to to save me from Nolan’s driving?” Kaleb laments, squeezing my shoulder. “And it goes without saying…”
“I know,” I murmur. “We’ll talk more later.”
He dips his head in acknowledgment, his eyes communicating his never-ending steadfastness, and follows Nolan out the door.
“Was all this about the fire earlier?” my aunt asks tactfully as possible, while she adjusts the heat under the kettle.
“And some other stuff,” I answer meekly, not wanting to lie, but not wanting to say it over again. “Can I go back to bed for a little while? Maybe leave for the DMV in an hour or two?”
Her brown eyes sweep my face and posture, taking in the way I’m fidgeting with my sleeves, chewing on my lip, trembling, and answers, “Of course, darling. Get some rest.”
My shoulders relax, then I see the stairs.
“The couch is pretty comfortable,” Felix comments casually, standing beside me. “And Aunt Gertie made that blanket. I happen to have first-hand experience with how soft and warm it is.”
Another batch of tears well up in my eyes, and I droop with relief that I don’t have to face the stairs. I’d reached my maximum threshold two or three crying fits ago.
I grab the throw that’s knitted to match the colors of the maple trees outside, and curl into a ball on the shorter side of the L-shaped couch, using a throw pillow to cushion my head. I’m so drained, that despite my fears of what I might see, I’m fighting to keep my eyes open.
“Felix,” I murmur, “Would you…?”
“I’ll be there as soon as you fall asleep,” he promises, his gaze soft as he perches next to me on the couch.
“Thank you,” I breathe and let myself drift into my exhaustion.
Chapter 12
Felix
The first thing I feel is the sun, the heat blanketing my skin, and there’s a brilliant orange behind my eyelids. The wind is gentle and holds the scent of the sea mixed with lush tropical flowers. I absorb the sweet sensations, overwhelmed and grateful for this moment, before I open my eyes.
And there she is. Callie.
The most beautiful, amazing girl I’ve ever seen. I know it’s ridiculous to feel this way about her. To be in love with her, when we only met a couple of weeks ago. But what does it matter, really? I’m too dead to do anything about it. Only in her mind am I real.
Callie smiles up at me, relief in her clear-water grey eyes, as we once again stand on the soft white sands of a distant beach neither of us has been to. Her hair hangs in thick waves down her back, some of the strands riding the soft breeze. She’s wearing a blue sundress with a bold Hawaiian print over a one-piece swimsuit because I didn’t have the guts to put her in a bikini.
I’m in board shorts and a t-shirt that says ‘Name the triangles’ and has three different types of triangles with the names Geoffrey, Frederick, and Eugene next to them. My oh-so-smooth way to cheer girls up. Goofy joke t-shirts.
“Where are we?” she asks, taking in the tropical forest that lines one side of the beach. In the distance, there’s a cliff face that has a massive waterfall running down it with a rainbow visible within the spray.
I want to reach for her hand like the other guys do, but it’s not like last time we were here. Before, it was desperate and horrifying. I needed to hold her to get her away, and then hold her to keep her together. Now, she’s herself. Sad but intact. And my nervousness isn’t an abstract concept of an over-busy mind, but something I once again feel. It’s in the rapid beat of my imaginary heart. The roar of the non-existent blood in my ears. The fake sweat on my palms.
I made everything here, but couldn’t make myself not have sweaty palms? Really?
Stuffing my hands in my pockets, I nod my head to encourage her to walk with me down the beach toward the waterfall.
“This would be an island in the Maldives that the Campbell’s own. Near the waterfall, they leased out part of the property to make into a small private resort, and the rest of the island is exclusively theirs,” I answer, digging my bare toes in the sand with every step, marveling at the feeling of the grains dusting my feet. “They have a summer home on the other side of the island.”
“Of course they own an island,” Callie snorts, tucking her hair behind her ears.
I chuckle, stealing peeks at her out of the corner of my eye. “After graduation, we’re supposed to take a trip here to celebrate…” I falter. “Well, they’re supposed to anyway, and you, if you want to go. Don’t know if I’ll be going, considering...” Stop talking. You’re making it worse, my brain shouts, while words won’t seem to stop coming out of my mouth. “Who knows where I’ll be by then, right?”
She nods with a tight smile, but there’s a dejected puckering of her brow.
Way to go, genius. Fix this. You’re supposed to make her feel better.
But my mind is blank. Words that usually come so effortlessly are completely gone because in this place I’m real. All I can seem to concentrate on is the fact that if I reached out, I could once again know the softness of her skin.
How do the rest of the guys make this look so easy?
I remember when Callie stayed the night with Nolan, and how tightly they were wrapped around each other as they slept. Why she stayed over, I have no idea, and the sinking feeling in my stomach makes me not want to know. They looked peaceful-- natural-- like they were made to fit together. Knowing Nolan, it probably was no big deal for him, but if it’d been me, I don’t think I would’ve been able to sleep. I’d have been the creeper watching her, trying to sear every moment, every sensation into my memory forever.
You could be making a few of those memories right now-- just saying, the cooler side of my mind points out, which annoyingly tends to sound like Nolan.
“You know, I’ve never been to the ocean,” Callie comments wistfully, taking in a deep breath and glancing out at the vibrant blue water.
Startled out of my inner monologue, I babble, “We should go sometime. I mean, it looks a little different in Oregon, but can’t beat the location.”
“I’d like that,” she answers, the huskiness of her voice making the words sound richer, and makes my throat go dry.
Get ahold of yourself, man! This is Callie. Your friend… and maybe the love of your life. Afterlife? Shit, don’t think about that.
“Want to walk in the water?” I ask, sounding normal… I think. Normal enough. “It’s my guess on what it’d be like, but…”
I trail off, my heart feeling like it’s going to explode out of my chest. Probably shouldn’t think about that either. With my luck, I’ll think of it, and then it’ll really happen, because-- dream.
Gathering what courage I have, I stealthily wipe my palm against my shorts, then hold out my hand in invitation, relieved that there’s minimal shaking.
She grins-- the one that takes over her whole face, her eyes becoming crinkled triangles, and takes my hand. It’s small, her fingers slender, compared to mine, and her skin is as soft as I remember.
Everything inside me feels light and heavy all at the same time, as we detour toward the water. Sappy, emo song lyrics play in my head of all the ways she affects me. I’m such a dork.
“Eek,” she squeaks, when the water splashes up her legs. “The water’s freezing!”
“Whoops! One sec,” I reply, closing my eyes and imagining the ocean feeling like a warm bath.
She sighs happily, leaning into me. “That’s much better.”
“Sorry, about that,” I apologize, rubbing the back of my neck. “The Pacific Ocean is really cold pretty much year round, so I defaulted to that.”
“Hmm, maybe I want to hold off on that trip to the beach then,” she laughs, kicking at the water that pools around our shins with each gentle wave.
While trying to stay
calm with her head resting against my arm, I blurt, “The beach is one of my favorite places. My dad would take me out surf fishing during the summer. He wasn’t really into the stuff I am, so it was our way to bond.”
She squeezes my hand, and her voice has a distant quality as she asks, “What were they like? Your family?”
I shrug. “Normal… kind of boring really.”
Callie gives me a look, then shakes her head. “You say normal like I have any idea what that means.”
“Well, they were... I don’t know, normal, relatively well-adjusted parent-like people” I answer, wracking my brain to try and explain what I took for granted all my life. “They were generally happy, and we were the typical boring middle-class family. They went to work. I went to school. We tried to have dinner together when we could, but Saturday morning was mandatory family breakfast. I miss the biscuits and gravy my mom would make from scratch.”
“That sounds really amazing,” she murmurs with a hint of longing. “I think I’d like to live a normal boring life.” With a rueful laugh, she adds, “Being a spirit witch, I don’t think that’s really in the cards for me.”
Since I saw what her past was really like, one question has been on a horrible loop in my mind. “Why didn’t you run away?” I whisper, knowing I shouldn’t ask, but unable to understand why she stayed.
Tucking herself more around my arm, she answers, “Where would I have gone? And with what money? In my mind, he was all I had in the world and controlled everything.”
“A shelter?” I suggest.
She snorts with contempt, and I get the feeling that my naivety might be showing.
“You have to remember, you’ve seen what happened sort of first hand… you know what he did, but to everyone else... the Bastard was a charming son of a bitch,” she sneers, while her hand grips mine tighter. “If I’d run, he’d of had my face plastered on the 6 o’clock news before I could figure out my next thought-- let alone my exit strategy.”
Callie sighs in the way of a person that has thought out every angle and still ends up with the same horrible answer.
“Bottom line, there’s no real proof of what he did,” she stresses, years of hopelessness filling her voice. “How do I tell the police he physically abused me without evidence? I’d be just another little rich girl telling lies because she wasn’t getting enough of daddy’s attention.”
“Yeah, wanting more attention really wasn’t your problem,” I reply without thinking, but luckily get a laugh. I swallow my follow-up question that she could’ve shown them her power, having seen more than enough sci-fi movies and television to know how that would work out.
“Anyway, I’m here now, right?” she states, bumping my side. “Can’t change the past. Have to keep moving forward and hopefully make better decisions in the future.”
I cringe. “I didn’t mean...”
“It’s fine, Casper,” she replies, looking up at me with an understanding smile, then changing the subject, asks, “So, what activities did you guys have planned for this post-graduation trip?”
Drink and hit on girls… Probably shouldn’t go with that answer.
“We uh… the resort had some stuff to do. Swimming, rock climbing, kayaking… Oh, they have a zip line that I really wanted to try!” I exclaim, happy to switch gears.
“Well you’re the wizard in this land, so lead on,” she teases, and that’s exactly what we do.
My nervousness evaporates in the excitement of just hanging out with her and sharing all these first-time experiences together-- the fact that it’s all in her head doesn’t seem to matter. We swim in a crystal clear pool near the waterfall that I made sure was warm this time, climb up a rock face that has easy to grip hand and footholds, and then take a zip line through the jungle, which ends near the main area of the resort.
By the time we’re finished, both of us are breathless, and we schlep ourselves in a kind of drunken elation to a small tiki bar that looks out onto the beach. It has a thatch roof and an indoor/outdoor patio with tables and chairs to laze in while taking in the beautiful view.
Callie looks bright-eyed and gorgeous with her hair in a windswept messy bun at the back of her head, held together by a stick skewered through it. She collapses in one of the chairs, smiling and happy, and everything in me wants this to never end. Here I’m real, and she’s safe from all the pain and ugliness that the outside world holds. Kaleb’s warning that spirits can lose themselves in the allure of someone else’s mind echoes like the voice of God.
I know we can’t stay here too much longer, but I’m not quite ready to let her go. There’s a clearing on one side of the patio with an old-fashioned jukebox. I don’t know if there’s one in the actual resort or I just made it up, but as soon as I see it, I know how I’d like this dream excursion to end.
Before I can get too inside my own head and lose my nerve, I imagine music playing, then hold my hand out in an over exaggerated sweep. “May I have this dance?”
“I don’t know how to dance,” she confesses, laughing and shaking her head, but taking my hand anyway.
Tugging her onto the small dance floor, I give her an easy spin, and implore, “Come on. Everyone can at least do the middle school shuffle.”
“The what now?” she chides, standing in the middle of the open space with both hands clasped around mine.
I pull her in close with a teasing smile, then while leading her arms around my neck, I explain, “The middle school shuffle. Where the girl puts her arms around the guy’s neck, the guy awkwardly holds her hips, and then we shuffle in a circle to music. If we want to get advanced, we’ll sway a little while we do it.”
She snickers, her whole body shaking as she presses her face against my shoulder, then wheezes, “I’ve never heard of it. Granted, I never went to a school dance-- middle school or otherwise-- so I guess it’s not too surprising.”
My hands slide from her hips to her lower back, holding her close enough that our bodies barely brush against each other, because when will I get another chance to dance with my literal dream girl. The halter dress she’s wearing feels soft and light underneath my fingers, the heat of her body easily felt through the fabric.
“Are you seriously telling me no one has asked you to a school dance?” I murmur into her hair as we start the swaying circle. Salt has mixed with her normal scent of pomegranate and orchids as if this island has now become a part of her.
Callie turns her face so now it leans against my shoulder, the top of her head tucked under my chin, and answers, “No, I was asked. I just always had to say no.”
She snuggles in closer, and I’m pretty sure heaven has nothing on this moment. Her body is pressed almost flush with mine, with just enough room to keep from stepping on each other's feet, and I’m doing my best to mentally record every sensation.
With a self-conscious laugh, she admits, “Now that I think about it. This is the first time I’ve danced with a boy. Wow, that sounds so lame when I say it out loud.”
“Nah, it’s fine,” I assure, but inside, I’m filled with this buzzing mixture of elation and nervousness. No matter what happens from here on out, she’ll always remember this moment. Her first dance-- and it was with me! No pressure.
Her arms shift so one hand is resting on my shoulder, while the other draws invisible patterns on my back, and a cascade of tingling shivers flow through my body from her fingertips. I can feel every rise and fall of her warm breaths against my chest, and I can’t help but hold her close, wrapping one arm around her waist, while my other hand slides up and down her spine.
Usually, this is the moment that the phrase, ‘Now I can die happy’ applies, but that ship has already sailed and is lost somewhere in the Bermuda triangle. It is the happiest moment of my afterlife, so there’s that.
Lost in this moment with Callie, I don’t realize my subconscious has taken over until I notice that the sun has suddenly started to set and the song playing is going on about how this moment with the girl
is like heaven and how all the singer wants is for her to know him.
And that’s the last time I watch City of Angels-- though it was kind of helpful in researching questions to ask Kaleb.
Fortunately, she doesn’t seem to notice that the song is like a walking billboard of my feelings, and instead murmurs, “Do you think they’re back? The people that hurt your family?”
Great, while I was on cloud nine dancing with her, she was thinking about homicidal maniacs. I do my best to swallow a groan of disappointment and remember that she’s had a hell of a morning.
I sigh, “I don’t know, but I really hope not. Finding out who they are might be my unfinished business, but it’ll be meaningless if to get to them, you and Mildred get hurt in the process.”
“I’m indestructible, remember,” she states, pulling back enough to look into my eyes, “and I want to help you.” She bites her lip, drawing my gaze to her mouth, then with a well of emotion infusing her husky voice, she confesses, “You’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me, and… I don’t think there’s anything I can do to repay what your friendship has meant to me.”
It’s like I’ve been kicked in the gut, and my breath is frozen in my lungs. She wasn’t thinking about this morning, but more of how much I mean to her, and how she wants to help me. How do I respond to that?
Reaching up, I cup her face with one hand, while the other continues to hold her against me. We’ve stopped moving in a circle, but we’re still swaying a little to the beat.
The truth is with each day, I’m less concerned with finding the murderers. I want them brought to justice, but I also want to stay. I hate not being able to interact with the real world, but if I can keep stealing a few precious hours with Callie in this world we are building, I think I could be okay like this.
My subconscious has a perverse sense of humor when Iris by Goo Goo Dolls changes to Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran, because yes, that’s exactly what I want to do right now. I never got the chance to kiss a girl when I was alive, and Callie being my first would be amazing.
