Ether (10 page)

He
holds onto me as everyone stares. The boy’s body arches against the ground and
bucks. Little specks of foam start to froth out of his mouth and his eyes roll
back in his head. I struggle against Justin, trying to put more distance
between me and the boy.  Justin lets go of me abruptly. “He’s having a seizure!
Someone call 911!” he yells.

I
ease back into the crowd, letting Justin take over. When I have a wall of
bodies between me and the action I turn my hands over. They’re still throbbing.
They’re also ruddy and cracked. A trickle of blood runs out the fissures in my
palms.

I
lock myself in the bathroom and run my hands under cold water. The coolness
eases the pain. I watch the watery, pale pink of my blood wash down the drain.
“Ephraim? Ephraim? Ephraim!” I whisper, over and over into the mirror.

I
study the mirror, looking for any sign he’s heard me. Ephraim’s told me that
reflective surfaces are the easiest to manifest into. If he can contact me at
all, it will be through the mirror. A weak, watery image flickers and disappears.
There’s another flash of color and then just the shiny silver of the mirror
again. He must be trying to contact me, but something’s stopping him. I look at
the swollen red of my hands. Can the Numina prevent him from reaching me?

I
stare at my reflection in the mirror, hoping he’ll flicker into view. I try to
call him up in my mind, remembering his eyes, his smile, and the fresh coolness
of his scent. Remotely, I think I feel a little pull, a shift of awareness. Can
I reach him?

The
door thumps with a knock from outside. I jump, my concentration shattering.
“Becka, you okay?” Justin asks through the door. 

“Sure,”
I say, dismayed at the shakiness of my voice.

“Then
would you mind unlocking the door?” Justin gives the handle a little rattle for
emphasis.

Actually
I do mind. I want to just stay in here, safe and by myself, away from all the
crazy weird, ethereal events that have taken over my life. But I can’t just
leave Justin out there.  I turned the lock and wait for Justin to swing the
door inward.

He
takes one look at me and says, “You’re not alright. Would you like to go?” I
nod weakly, grateful to let him lead me away from the party and out into the
calm coolness of the night. I hand him my keys, there’s no way I’m okay to
drive.

We’re
quiet as he drives. I can tell he’s watching me, but I’m not quite ready to
answer his questions. I’m not even sure I have the answers. What I really want,
what I really need, is to see Ephraim again.

            Justin pulls
the car to a stop and I realize we’re in front of his house, not mine; which
makes sense. At my house we’d have my mom to deal with. Here, we can talk. The
only problem is that I didn’t know what to say. I don’t want to lie to him, but
what can I tell him that would make any kind of sense?

            Finally
Justin sighs. “We might as well go inside then, Becka.”  

            Justin’s
house is still and silent as I tiptoe up the stairs to his bedroom. I’ve been
in this room hundreds, maybe thousands of times. The walls are pale blue and
the furniture is spare and simple. There’s a dresser, a few posters and the
bed. Normally I’d throw myself on it, stomach first, kicking my feet in the air
as I chatted, but that was before. Now I find myself perching uncomfortably on
the edge. I keep my eyes on the pale blue comforter, trying not to look at
Justin. Why did he have to pick now, of all times, to change our friendship.
And why am I only now noticing the strong set of his shoulders and the ripple
of hard muscles along his body?  

            Justin straightens
the blanket before he sits, conspicuously far away from me.  “Just so I’m up to
speed Becka, did you freak out about the party, the seizure, or what happened
between us?” he asks matter-of-factly.

            “Kind of
the seizure thing, actually,” I answer so quietly I don’t know if he can hear
me. How am I supposed to explain what really happened? What did really happen?

            “The
seizure?” he repeats cautiously. He shifts closer to me. “Becka?” I don’t look
up. I keep my eyes on the blue bedspread like it has the secret of life written
on its cotton-polyester threads. Using just his fingertips he slowly tilts my
face up. “Mark’s okay. He’ll be fine now. You didn’t do anything to him. You
didn’t cause it. It was just bad timing. Not your fault.” His eyes don’t match
his words; they are troubled and clouded with worry.

            “No it is
my fault, in a way,” I say slowly.

            He shakes
his head, but doesn’t say anything so I kept going. I spill the entire crazy
thing. Justin just listens. I see a muscle in his jaw twitch when I tell him
about Ephraim. And then I start on the terrifying events; the rock slide, the
chase, Dakota, the Numina at the party. When I finish he just sits, holding my
hands, which I didn’t feel him take, and looking into my eyes.  “Say
something.”

            He nods,
processing. “I don’t know what to say. You’ve been through a lot lately; the
accident, the scare with Dakota, Mark’s seizure. It makes sense that your mind
needs a way to interpret it.”

            “You think
this is all in my head? You think I’m just crazy? I tell you that someone has
tried to kill me three times-“

“Four
times,” Ephraim says softly from the doorway.

I
glance up at his bright expressive eyes, “Ephraim!” Relief floods through me.
Finally, Ephraim is back, everything will be okay now. I want to throw myself
into his arms, but of course, I can’t do that. His image is thin and
flickering, fading out to pale and translucent one moment then surging into
richer detail for a moment, only to fade again. “Where have you been? You said
you wouldn’t be gone long! I was scared without you!” The words tumble out of
me and I barely register that Justin is staring at me, horrified.

“Careful
Becks, he can’t see me,” Ephraim cautions.

In
the same instant Justin stands up too, his hands out in front of him, his voice
careful and controlled. “No one said crazy Becka, but listen to how all of this
sounds. I mean, right now you’re talking to someone who isn’t even here. You’re
upset. I understand that. It was an upsetting night.” He’s using his most
soothing tone, but perversely, it enrages me. “I think you just need to calm
down. There is a rational explanation for all this. For one thing you’ve had a
very bad head injury that is altering your perceptions. Plus, you have to
consider that before your accident you were a little self-absorbed. You just
buried your head in the sand and minded your own business and now that you know
what it’s like to suffer you’re more sensitive to people in trouble. Maybe now
you notice when someone is looking sick, or feeling down or about to hurt
themselves and you act? Maybe the world just seems different because now you’re
involving yourself in it.”

Terrible,
angry, accusatory comments threaten to burst out of me but Ephraim steps
smoothly between us, filling my vision with his calm control. “This isn’t
productive. He’s won’t be able to accept what you’re telling him and his doubt
is upsetting you. Anything you say now will just make it worse.” Then he smiles
a small teasing smile at me, “Besides wouldn’t you rather be cuddling with me
than fighting with him?”

I
nod slowly. I really would. Justin’s skin has flushed and I can see tension in
every muscle of his body. His emotions are all over the place, mixed up between
worry and anger. Ephraim is right; he won’t be able to accept what’s happening.
“I need to go,” I say woodenly to Justin, and start for the door.

“Just
like that?” Justin protests so loudly it’s almost a yell. “You drop this unbelievable
story on me and then you’re just going to leave?”

I
half turn back to him, “It’s late. I’m tired and clearly, this was all a
mistake.”

            For a
second there’s pain on Justin’s face as he hears the hard note in my voice and
realizes what I mean. “You’re really going to leave like this?”

            I don’t answer;
I turn and flee down the stairs. There’s no answer I can give him really. I
tried the truth and he thought I was crazy. I’m burning with anger but even in the
middle of the emotion, I know it isn’t fair. How could I possibly expect him to
believe me? I didn’t even really believe all this.         

I
don’t go home. At least I don’t go to my mother’s home. I drive over to Dad’s.
He buzzes me in, gets me a glass of water and a face cloth and leaves me alone.
I close the bedroom door behind me and let myself sink onto the fluffy deep
bed. Down the hall I can hear him on the phone with my mother. Even lost in my
own troubles I cringe a little for him. It can’t be a pleasant conversation. I
take a deep breath and then whisper to Ephraim, “Might as well manifest, I’m
alone.”

“That
was intense.” He’s looking at me with concern, but right away I began to feel
the warm, summer, sunlight feeling of calm and contentment that he brings with
him.

I
let my breath out, blowing out my cheeks. “Which part?”

            He reaches
out and brushes his fingertips across my cheek. I feel a slight pressure and a
faint warmth, like a light breeze has played over my skin. “I’m glad to be with
you again, and to see you safe and sound.”  His eyes, always so calm, are
coloured with worry and there’s a hint of something greater. Fear?

            “You don’t
know how glad I am to see you!” I blurt out. I steady myself, trying to calm my
voice and keep the flush from rising in my cheeks. The entire time he’s been
gone I’ve been aware of a vague, indistinct ache and now that he’s back it feels
like I can breathe deeply again at last. I’m finally beginning to understand
what bonded together means. At least for me, it means that time away from him is
painful. I feel empty, incomplete, and unsteady without him.

Now
that he’s here I can finally think clearly again. I try to focus my thoughts on
the things I really need to say to him. “Seems like you left out a few
important details on the ‘welcome to the ethereal world’ tour. You glossed over
the bits about ethereal body snatchers in the neighbourhood and I don’t think I
remember the rock slides, murder attempts, dead ravens or exploding glass being
among the highlights of spending my life with you.” I mean to be angry with
him, but the emotion is melting with the relief of being with him again.

            “I didn’t
wish to frighten you. The Numina so rarely gain entrance to your world. It has
been almost a thousand years since the last such incursion. I hoped I could
offer you only the best of my world, without its horror.”

“Well
that’s not working out very well for us is it?” I say sarcastically, but I can’t
hold on to the emotion with him all contrite before me. “Okay, new set of
questions. What
exactly
is going on here? And this time let’s focus on
the body snatching and murder attempts.”

Ephraim
sighs. “The Numina are unlike Ethereals. We share the same plane but our
energies are incompatible in every way. We literally repel each other.” He sits
next to me. “They’re obsessed with experiencing the human world. But that’s not
the way the world is ordered. Humans have this world with its joys and perils;
we have our own with its endless beauty but limited experiences. To exist here
at all they have to breach the barriers between the worlds and occupy a human
body; naturally the human resists this possession.”  He reaches for my hand,
laying his lightly on top of mine and the pressure is steady and almost solid.

“But
you don’t need to occupy a body to exist here?” I ask.

He
shakes his head, “No. Ethereals have the ability to persist in the human plane.
But I do require a connection to your world, through you.”

            “Wait,” I
say, struggling against the urge to just enjoy being with him, to let myself
feel soothed and happy. Important things are happening here. “So the Numina
have broken into my world for the first time in a thousand years? Why
now?
”
A terrible guess forms in my mind, but I need to hear him say it.

            “Becks.”
His hand tightens around mine.

            I take a
deep breath but still when I speak my voice is small. “Because of me, isn’t it?
Because you brought me back. That’s how they got through.” Ephraim nods
slowly.  He lets go of my hand and puts his arm around me, drawing me against
him. I lean my head against his chest and I can feel the warmth of his body and
his steady, slow heartbeat. I close my eyes, just for a minute, letting myself rest.
And the next second, I’m dreaming. 

            But the
dream is very different from the ones I’ve experienced with Ephraim before. For
one thing, we are just standing on a paved road. There is no fantastic, breath
taking landscape and I don’t feel the dreamy tugging away of my mind. Ephraim
steps into my line of sight, looking around him curiously. “Where are we
Becks?” he asks, walking up to me. “Where did you bring us?”

            I start to
tell him I don’t know, that this road looks just the same as any other to me,
then I see it- a tree with huge scrapings of bark taken out of it, just off the
side of the road. My eyes lock onto the pavement and even though I know what I’ll
see there, I have to look. Walking forward, I kneel on the shoulder of the road
where a dark stain has set into the pavement. I hold my fingers just above it,
tracing the stain without really touching it. “Don’t you know?” I ask him
softly, “this is where I died.”