Shadow Bound (Wraith) (4 page)

“Hey babe,” my dad called. “What are you doing here?”

“Can I get a ride? Or borrow the car?”

“Sure. Something happen with Ava?”

I walked behind the checkout counter and pulled a tissue out of the box and wiped my forehead. “Gross,” I sighed and threw the damp tissue in the trash. “Connor was supposed to pick me up. We must have had a misunderstanding.”

“Just take the car, your mom went to the hardware store for a minute. I’ll ride home with her.” He threw me the keys and I caught them in the air.

“Thanks, Dad.”

Ten minutes later, I parked the car and saw her. The same little girl from the other day. Black hair separated into three pigtails. Same flowered dress. She stood next to the old tire hanging in Ms. Frances’ backyard.

I waved and stepped toward her yard, but stopped when I heard my back porch screen door open. “Hi,” Connor said from the top step. A mixture of anger and relief washed over me.

I turned to look for the girl, but she was gone. The swing remained still in the yard. A quick glance at Connor proved he hadn’t seen her. Benefit of his medication, I guess.

“Hey,” I said, letting the irritation slip through. I walked past him to unlock the door to the kitchen.

He rushed up behind me and put his hand on the door. He held it after I swung it open. “I know you’re mad.”

“Really? Why would I be mad, Connor?” I tossed the keys and my satchel on the table and went to the refrigerator. I grabbed a water bottle, opened it and took a long drink. I didn’t offer him one.

“I lost track of time and when I got to the studio, you were gone. I thought you got a ride already. With Ava. Or someone… body.” He stumbled over the last word. Did he just slur? I narrowed my eyes and looked closer. He was leaning against the counter, hands propped on the edge. His eyes were rimmed in red. At first I thought he’d been crying.

“Are you stoned?” I asked, incredulous. I walked over and smelled his shirt. He reeked of smoke and weed. I punched him in the shoulder. “You are! You ditched me to get high.”

“No, wait…” He reached for my hand, but I pulled away. He reached again and wrapped his hand around my wrist. “I smoked up this morning. I shouldn’t have. I was at Matt’s house and it was there and I felt shitty…”

I had no idea what to say. I was angry he forgot me, but also completely stunned he smoked weed. I knew he had done this in the past, but he was pretty adamant about not drinking or using drugs since he came home from the hospital.

“You skipped school?”

He dropped my arm. “I just couldn’t go today. Not after everything. Come on… don’t be mad.”

A new feeling crept into my gut. He was more upset about this than I realized. “She meant a lot to you then? More than you’ve told me.” I knew I sounded jealous. I wasn’t. I couldn’t deny though that she obviously meant enough for him to forget about me – even if for just a couple hours.

Connor looked at me. His pretty blue eyes surrounded by blotchy red. I wanted to be angry, but really I was confused. “It’s weird. Did… did you ever go to camp as a kid?”

“What?”

“Did you?”

“Yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“You know how when you would go to camp you would meet all these new friends? You would do all these camp things and have inside jokes, right?”

I nodded, relating, but still confused.

“Being at the hospital was like that. Without the fun.” He attempted a smile. “All these kids, forced into this environment, just trying to survive. The food was crappy. They shaved the boys’ heads and the girls couldn’t wear make up or anything. We had these uniforms, because even though it wasn’t a jail, it was close. You had no choice but to connect with the other kids there. I bonded with Charlotte.”

Charlotte. “Okay.”

“We didn’t necessarily have anything in common other than being locked up, but then and there it was enough.”

I latched on to Connor’s hand and walked him to the living room. He followed without hesitation. I sat on the couch and pulled him down next to me. “Tell me about her,” I said.

He shrugged. “She came across as tough. The first time I saw her she was beating the crap out of this other girl. Just whaling on her. We were in the rec room. I have no idea what started it, but she just went off on this girl twice her size.”

“Did she get hurt?”

“Charlotte? No way. She took that girl down. She was tiny, but mean.”

“Why was she there in the first place?”

“She had all kinds of problems, drugs, family stuff… technically. I think she was considered a chronic runaway.” He was so nonchalant, like this happened every day.

“Why did she beat that girl up?” Holy crap – this girl really did sound crazy.

Again, he shrugged like it was no big deal. “I never found out.” I could tell the expression on my face must have been disbelief, because Connor moved closer and took my hands. “I know you and I have our own issues, but these other kids, like Evan, are dealing with some real shit. Charlotte was one of those kids.

“Her family was abusive?”

“No, not exactly,” he evaded.

“Okay, so Charlotte had some problems. Serious ones. What does that have to do with you skipping school and getting trashed? Not to mention ditching me?”

“It was a one-time thing. I promise. I just needed to forget about it for a minute.”

“Fine,” I said, standing up. “I think you should go though. My parents could be home anytime and really, I don’t think this is what you want them to see. They aren’t stupid.” His eyes were a little clearer now, but he still looked rough.

“Sure, yeah.” He stood with me. He reached around me hesitantly, but I didn’t move away. Quietly, he said, “Sorry?”

I made a face. “Maybe.”

“Really. I am sorry.” He leaned down and kissed me, soft on the lips.

“Stop,” I said, but I couldn’t help smiling. He noticed and kissed me again, a little harder. “I forgive you, but stop. Go. I don’t want you to get caught.”

“Thanks.” He said and we walked to the door.

“Stay out of trouble,” I said.

“I will.”

Connor left, walking down the street toward home. It would take him about 15 minutes by foot. Hopefully, he could sober up on the way.

I
slept in
the next morning, relieved to have the day off work. As I passed one of the dormer windows on the way to my dresser, I saw her down on the street. Raquel, the ghost. In all my drama with Connor, I forgot about her. I felt a twinge of guilt seeing her down there, still lost and confused. She followed my rules and hadn’t shown up in the house or at work, but I knew she had to appear somewhere. I leaned closer to the glass and she looked up, her face pale, hands over her semi-swollen belly. Her clothes were the same. They never changed – they never would. Nothing about her would. She was trapped in this purgatory until I helped her. Her eyes roamed upward, searching, but before she could see me, I averted my eyes and moved away from the window.

My parents had left for work before I got downstairs. I took my time preparing breakfast, making coffee and toasting a bagel. I tried not to think about yesterday and Connor ditching me. I tried even harder to forget about him showing up here stoned.

Food and coffee in hand, I sat down at the computer. The machine took a minute to warm up and, between bites of bagel and peanut butter, I started entering information into the search engine. Obviously, the name Raquel was too vague so I added the tags “pregnant” and “survived” to the search, included our city and information filled the screen. I cursed myself for not doing this earlier.

From what I read, Raquel had been in a car accident. Badly injured, she was transported to the hospital, but died later. Her baby survived. The only reason the accident was documented in the paper was because the driver held a position on the city council and he had been drinking. Raquel’s family made quite a scene at his court appearance. A photo of her family, including the baby, had been taken at the scene of the accident. Flowers and a white cross memorialized the area. The council person admitted guilt and had been sentenced. Everything was sealed up.

Confused, I pushed back my chair and opened the front door. I stepped outside into the warm air in my pajamas, a tank and shorts, but I didn’t plan on leaving the porch. Raquel waited by the street where I had seen her earlier. I waved her up to the porch and she ran up the stairs.

“Did you find my baby?”

I nodded, unsure where this was going. “Raquel, I have to ask you something.”

She focused her eyes on me. They were a dark brown and very pretty. Alive, she would have been gorgeous. Here she was frozen in her death. Mid-labor. Sagging, tired skin.

“Okay, so…” I had no idea how to say it. How do you tell someone they’re dead? “Do you remember what happened to you?”

“No, not really.”

“What do you remember?”

“I was in the car with my boyfriend. We were coming home from the store, baby shopping. My belly was huge. Not like this.” She looked down at her empty stomach.

“You were in a car accident. It was really bad.” I watched as her eyes widened and one hand covered her mouth and one her stomach. “Your baby is fine. She’s beautiful.”

“She is?”

“But you,” I swallowed thickly. “You didn’t make it.”

“Make it?”

“Survive. You didn’t survive the crash.”

Raquel slid to the ground. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry.”

We sat together – silent. Being early in the day, the whole neighborhood was quiet. Overhead, I heard the caw of a bird. I watched as she reached for my hand and was shocked when I felt the light pressure of her skin on mine. I scrambled to my feet, startling her in the process.

“How…” I couldn’t get the words out. I reached out and swiped air. I couldn’t touch her. This was a one way street – just like with Evan.

I held out my hand. “Touch me.”

Raquel looked at me like I was insane. “What?”

“Do it. Touch me. Grab my hand.”

Hesitantly, like I was an unfamiliar dog, she clasped her fingers over mine. Her touch felt light, not like contact with a real human. Her fingertips were cold. A chill ran up my spine and I snatched my hand away. In a  harsh voice I told her, “Go. I helped you. Go. You’re dead. Your baby is fine. The man who killed you is being punished. Please leave.”

Raquel stood in front of me stunned and confused. I sighed, “I’m sorry, but we’re done. Go find the light or whatever. I’ve done what I can.”

We faced one another, but I said no more. I couldn’t. My insides were crumbling. To my relief, her form shimmered a little and eventually she disappeared completely.

I turned to run in the house, but my hands shook so badly I couldn’t get the knob to turn. I heard the loud clap of springs pulling taught and the sound of a door slamming. I looked over and saw her. Ms. Frances. She held a broom in her hands and stared directly at me.

In the gentlest voice she asked, “Are you okay, child?”

“I’m…” I had no answer, so I just nodded my head furiously and fought back the tears that came with the panic attack building in my chest.

Ms. Frances’ eyes darted around. She cocked her head at me and walked closer to the edge of her porch. “That boy didn’t do anything did he?”

“Boy?” I croaked. I wouldn’t be able to keep back the tears if she made me talk.

“Your boy. The one I see you out here with? Did he do something?”

“Connor? No! No. He’s not here. It’s nothing. Really. I’m just having a moment.”

She gave me an appraising look. “If you say so honey, but you let me know if you need anything. I’m always here.”

Her screen door opened with the same sound of tense coils, and she stepped inside. I twisted the knob again, this time able to get it open and stepped across the threshold, but not before I took one last look on Ms. Frances’ porch. It may have been my imagination, but I could swear I saw three black pigtails duck behind the porch.

&

I called Connor first thing after I calmed down. The second thing I did was realize I hadn’t calmed down and puked in the kitchen sink. Connor didn’t answer so I left a message – a very freaked out message – on his voicemail. I cleaned the sink and curled up on the couch. Raquel touched me. This meant Evan wasn’t special? Or were they both special? Did Raquel need more help?

When I’d actually calmed down enough, I called Connor again, this time trying him at his house.

His sister, Emma, answered on the third ring.

“Hi, Emma,” I said. “Is Connor home?”

“Hi, Jane. No, he’s not here.”

I looked at the clock on the computer. It was noon. Normally, he would still be asleep. I fought the feeling of unease and suspicion.

“Oh.”

“He went to the church for that funeral or something,” she said. “I don’t know when he’ll be back.”

Funeral?

Charlotte.

“Oh, okay,” I said, trying to keep the hurt out of my voice.

“He was even wearing a tie,” she continued. “It was weird.”

“I’ll just call his cell then.”

“Bye, Jane,” Emma said. I turned off the phone and stood at my kitchen counter thinking about everything.

Connor hadn’t told me he was going to the funeral. Or even that it was today. I felt… betrayed? Maybe. The word was harsh and completely inappropriate. It wasn’t like he was out having fun. He was at a funeral. For a dead friend. I needed to get a grip.

I dialed his number and left a voicemail. Two words. “Water tower,” I whispered into the phone, knowing he would understand the message.

&