Hereafter (10 page)

Jet’s hands slid down my arms, and his fingers interlaced with mine as he pulled me behind him and across the threshold of the elevator. I didn’t understand why he and Val were so afraid. Wasn’t this memory the same as any other? He had said this Shade was a soul, didn’t that mean it was unable to see us just like all the others as well as unable to harm us?

“Stay close to the wall,” Jet said in a low, even tone.

I obediently slid against the coolness of the stainless steel wall, and then whispered the question that had been burning through my mind since first noticing Val and Jet’s fear of the Shade. “Can it see us?”

“Yes,” Jet muttered in an ill-fated attempt at hiding his fear from his voice. “Stay very still and keep quiet. It won’t notice us if we’re silent.”

I clamped my lips shut. My eyes zeroed in on my poor mother. Now that we were closer to her, I could see how young she was—in her early twenties maybe. Silently, she continued to whisper something, her plump lips moving rapidly with the words as she closed her eyes tightly. The elevator doors closed and the volume of her frantic prayer turned up.

“It never moved before; it won’t now. It never moved before; it won’t now,” she repeated, her hand gripping her pen, clenching and unclenching it.

As if determined to prove her wrong this time, the Shade moved from its spot in the far corner and stopped directly in front of her. The tendrils from its erratic shape wisped around my mother’s mouth like dark smoke protruding from her lips. She continued reciting her chant, oblivious to the fact it had moved and that it was now just a breath away from her face.

The Shade extended in front of her, mimicking the shadow of an adult male. It reached a hand made of solid, black smoke out to her and slid it across the length of her arm mere centimeters away from actually touching her. I continued to watch, horrified, as it ran his fingers of smoke along her body and down to her hip.

“Look at me,” it seethed in the hiss of a whisper.

My mother stiffened. Her prayer became mute as her lips clamped together.

“I said look at me, my pretty,” the Shade demanded with more authority this time, his shadowed hand coming up to graze the skin of her cheek.

She flinched and shook her head no.

The Shade resumed its original, erratic shape. “You will,” it shouted with force, just before it flew at my mother’s neck.

The folders and pen she’d gripped so tightly the entire time slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor as her hands instinctively came up to push the Shade off her and away from her throat. Her attempts were unsuccessful; it’s impossible to push away smoke.

Without warning the scene in front of us changed rapidly. It was almost as though we were watching a movie, one with little clips from a horror movie involving my mother and the Shade. We flashed forward through her life. A few images slowed—one of her visiting with her shrink, Dr. Marlo; a few with her and my father; the day I was born; and other more random clips. Sometimes the Shade was there, following her, hunting her, hovering nearby, and sometimes it wasn’t.

It was almost as though it played a game with her, with her sanity. As if it was letting her think it had gone, that it had finally moved on, just long enough for her to believe it, and then it would reappear. In a giant game of cat and mouse, the Shade had toyed with her for years. Watching, I realized this was where my mother’s schizophrenia diagnosis had stemmed from. It wasn’t necessarily the souls that had bothered her, but more the Shade that had followed her.

The elevator doors opened to a street. Walking through the stainless steel doors, we left my mother and the Shade behind as the doors closed, severing us from that memory. I glanced around and realized with certainty the street we stood upon. It was the curvy street that led to my house.

CHAPTER TWELVE

It was dusky out, either early morning or late evening. I couldn’t be sure of which. Crisp brown leaves raced each other in the wind. The season was fall, my mother’s favorite. I took in the familiarity of my neighbors’ houses—the Stewarts’ crooked mailbox with the hummingbirds painted on it, the Hutchisons’ senile beagle that always lay in their driveway as though it were waiting on them to come home, and old Mrs. Bell’s front yard tree decorated with more bird feeders than it had branches.

“That was horrible…” I blinked, grateful to be away from that memory, but utterly shocked it had ever occurred at the same time.

“It was,” Jet agreed, pulling me into his arms. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared.”

“I can’t believe that thing followed her for so long.” The words flowed from my lips as my memory allowed a vivid image of the Shade to resurface in my mind. Sourness exploded on my tongue from the disgust I felt toward it for following my mother for so long.

“It didn’t just follow her…it tormented and haunted her for pleasure,” Jet said.

“We’re close to the end, I can feel it,” Val said, interrupting our conversation, her violet eyes pulsating like a steady heartbeat. “Your mother wasn’t that far ahead of us. If we’re lucky, we’ll catch up to her once she enters her reflection period.”

“Reflection period?” I questioned.

“A time when she must reflect on how her suicide affected those who loved her and those loved by her,” Val answered, turning her head from right to left as she kept a watch out for my mother.

And then, there she was, dressed in black yoga pants and a lime green tank top, walking. She looked exactly as I remembered her. I searched my mind, trying to pinpoint when it was we were seeing her. How close we were to the day she took her life. She’d stopped walking months before her suicide. This memory had to be when she became a hermit, or the one that turned her into a hermit rather.

Mom hurried past us at a fast pace, oblivious, as always, to our presence. The three of us followed her. I was lost in thought, drowning in my unyielding need to be wrapped in her arms, to be surrounded in her vanilla bean scent, and to hear her say my name.

We came to a sharp corner and I knew suddenly exactly how this scene would play out. All because I knew what would be waiting up ahead—who. The woman with the red hair who had been my first encounter with a tortured soul. We rounded the corner, me more cautious than the others, and my mother completely unaware of what she was about to come face to face with.

The woman with the red hair.

She stood in the same spot as when I had first seen her. She wore the same denim shorts and pale yellow tank top as I remembered. Her face was still twisted in that same frantically desperate way as when I had first come across her.

Mom paused, obviously knowing upon first sight what the woman was unlike I had, and I found myself wondering how she had never seen her before this moment. Mom started to back away slowly, and I heard her softly repeating four words, “Please don’t see me.” A few dry leaves crunched underneath her foot; this was what drew the soul’s attention to her. In the blink of an eye, the soul was standing directly in front of my mother and saying the exact same things she had said to me. The remembered fear from my encounter with the woman pierced through my soul, consuming me in seconds.

“I can’t help you,” my mother said, her voice cracking. “I’m not supposed to even be seeing you; you’re not real.”

“You’re a mother. I can tell. You have to help me search for my car. My car has my baby in it!” the red haired woman screamed frantically, inches from my mother’s face.

Mom did just as I had—she bolted.

“Follow her! Hurry!” Val shouted. Jet and I did as we were told, and I felt as if I were thrown back into my memory of when I’d ran away from the soul of the redheaded lady.

“She’s here somewhere,” Val shouted. “Her presence is all around.”

My house came into view and I felt hope swell within me. Maybe my mother’s reflection period was inside our house.

We followed her through the front door and that was when she changed. Her hair was no longer pulled back into a tight ponytail, and she no longer wore running clothes. Instead, she was just as I remembered her the day that she took her life—the day that I took for granted seeing her ever again.

She moved in a sloth-like pace toward the couch. I tried to think of what this moment could be, praying that I wasn’t about to witness the end of her life. I didn’t think I was strong enough to handle it. Not after what I had already seen.

Val stepped to my side, no more out of breath than Jet or me. That was one good thing about being a soul—you could run forever and never grow tired. “This is it, Rowan. This is your mother’s final moment.”

I glanced at my mother and realized her slow movements and expressionless face for what it was. She’d already taken the pills, and now I was about to witness her final breaths.

Mom leaned back against the couch and propped her feet up. The horror of what I was about to witness froze me in place. Jet’s arms wrapped around my waist from behind.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Tears flowed freely from my eyes. I rubbed my hands slowly across his forearms as I watched my mother’s eyelids gradually grow heavier until they finally closed. A man appeared by her side dressed in black—her Reaper. I couldn’t see his face, but I did take a small sense of comfort in knowing that she wasn’t entirely alone. Her breath hitched and her body shook just before the man extended a fingertip to press against her forehead. And then, she was standing beside herself, staring down at her lifeless body in disbelief.

“You’ve made a mistake, Salene,” the man said to her in a sympathetic tone. “I’m sorry, but now you will have to reap the consequences.”

“This is it,” Val insisted, her eyes no longer flickering, but instead shining a vibrant violet. “Go to her now. She’s about to enter into her reflection period.”

Jet released me. “Go.”

Sadness echoed through that one word of his. It attached to the air in the room, making it heavier than what it should have been. This was it. This was the moment when I would have to choose my ultimate sacrifice—give up the one I loved to save my life and that of my father, or stay with the one I loved and forever remain as I was.

“Just go ahead,” Jet motioned. “Please.”

“Reach for her!” Val shouted.

If I did, then would that be it? Would I be able to say my goodbyes to Jet?

“I love you, Rowan,” Jet said, as though he were reading my mind. “But please, grab hold of her. If you don’t do it now, then we’ll have to go through everything all over again.”

I nodded. “I love you, too,” I whispered, just before I stepped forward and extended my hand.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Upon contact, an amazing brightness filled the room. I gasped and felt the warmth of her soul beneath my fingertips. The whiteness dulled and the shimmering of her soul ceased.

“Rowan?” she asked, sounding breathless and unsure.

“Mom,” I whispered as more tears slid down my face. Her arms wrapped around me, and for the first time in months, I was able to bury my face in her shoulder and inhale her scent like I’d wanted to every minute since she’d been gone.

“It’s really you.” Her voice caught somewhere between a whisper and a sob as she gripped me tighter. “I saw what happened, what my choice did to you…to your father. I’m so sorry, honey. If I had known, I wouldn’t have done it. I would have stayed and taken my place like I should have. I would have dealt with it all to save you.”

“I know… That’s why I’m here,” I said, pulling back from her slightly to stare into her eyes.

“Why you’re here?” she repeated, confusion creasing her brow.

I nodded. “I’m here to ask you to trade places with me…for you to take the position you were supposed to so I can have my life back.”

The words felt thick in my mouth. They sounded wrong. They sounded selfish, especially with Jet standing just a few feet away.

Mom’s green eyes lit up as they filled to the brim with tears. “How? Is that even possible? Can we really do that?”

“Yes,” I confirmed. “It’s why I came here to find you.”

“Anything I have to do, I’ll do it if it will give you back your life and help save your father’s.” She squeezed my hands in hers and smiled, though her eyes were filled with sorrow and pain for what she had done—how she had gotten here.

I realized then that I didn’t know what we were supposed to do next. I’d found my mother, but what was I supposed to do now?

I glanced over my shoulder to Val. “How do we do this?”

“All you both have to do is accept,” she said.

Mom’s had brushed against my cheek softly. “Well, I do. I accept, of course I accept,” she said lovingly.

Jet shifted his weight, the movement drawing my attention back to him, as he shoved his hands deep into his front pockets. I found myself pulled back into the here and now, the heavy fog of happiness and excitement dissipating from my mind and allowing me once again to think about this from all angles.

I looked at Jet. His face was solemn, but he still managed a small smile for my benefit. Emotions transferred between us in the silence of the room, and I felt my heart break. A tiny piece of my soul began to die as the reality of what this moment truly was—the last time I would see him—sunk in. Panic jolted through me. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him just yet. I left my mother’s side to fling myself in his arms.