by Ami Urban
“I was telling a story.” Her eyes narrowed at me. “He’s not going anywhere with you.”
“I’ll just be a second,” he said, prying her fingers off. Then, he added painfully, “Babe.”
It seemed to pacify her, because she smiled while I gagged. I tugged the traitor away from our table and hauled him a few dozen feet away.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I put out my hands, waiting for an answer. “What’s thinkin’?!”
His features sagged into a pained expression. “I miss you saying that.”
“Stay on topic, Martin!” I growled. “Don’t get all weirdly mushy on me—specifically when you were just drowning in the sea of Justine. Did you need floaties? It looked like you needed floaties to come up for air!” I was rambling again. Why was I rambling? I didn’t want Martin. He’d betrayed me. He’d tried to get my soul. I didn’t know who he was working for. I didn’t know—
“Calm down.” His voice was firm, but I could see a sparkle of amusement in his eyes. He was getting a kick out of my stumble! “Look, I recruited Justine to help us find out what Irish Moses is up to. If one of us were following him around, he’d sense it. We gotta find out what he’s planning.”
“What, are you nuts?!” I threw up my hands. “If she finds out about the afterlife—”
“I know.” He turned serious. “She could die, or I could get in huge trouble.”
“Whereby you’d die. Maybe you’d both die! Did you even think this through?”
“Of course, I did!” He grabbed both my shoulders and held on tight.
Something ignited inside me. Damn it.
“Look, if she hears anything she’s not supposed to, I’ll make an excuse. All I need her to do is keep and extra set of eyes on him. That way, we’ll know his next move, and Julian will be safe.”
“Aren’t you supposed to know his next move?” I shrugged out of his grasp and folded my arms across my chest.
He shook his head. “He’s switching bodies too quickly, so the link we normally share is hazy. He’s not telling me anything, either. Come on, she’s our only hope.”
I took a deep breath. Martin was putting people in danger. From what little I remembered of him, it sounded just like his old tricks.
For all I knew, he was planning to feed Justine to Irish Moses. How many people was I going to be forced to keep track of?
“Fine. But I swear to all that is good and ethereal—if I catch wind that Justine or Julian or Serena or Kevin are in trouble, I’ll kill you, Martin!”
With that, I stomped back toward the table and slouched into my seat with a huff. He followed behind me a moment later. Justine tossed a leg over his, claiming him. I ignored it all.
“You were saying?” I asked.
She blinked at me, her expression blank. Then, she came back to life and tossed a fake smile around the table.
“Right. So... I was following Mr. Mays around during second period, right? So, I saw him have this really weird, too close conversation with Kathleen—”
“What?!” Martin eyed me.
I sighed. “It was nothing.”
“Damn right,” Justine continued. “Know how I know? Because I saw him ten minutes later in the boys’ locker room.”
She watched us all like we should have known where the conversation was headed. But we all exchanged glances and shrugs. She rolled her eyes. “He’s having an affair with a student. With a boy student.”
“What?” Martin pulled away from her.
“Whoa.” Serena twisted in her seat.
“Who?” I leaned forward.
“Trevor Damascus,” she answered.
“That...is an awesome last name. Who is he?” I wondered.
“Some nerd in the math club,” Serena replied, flipping her hair. “He’s a tall skinny kid with way-too-well-groomed hair and God-awful red-framed glasses.”
Sounded like all he needed was a pocket protector and he’d be first in line for the lead role in Revenge of the Nerds V.
“Okay...how do you know Mr. Mays is having affair?” Martin asked.
Justine rolled her eyes again. “Because. They were totally making out in the middle of the locker room.”
“Ew!” Serena tossed a half-eaten carrot at her friend. Justine dodged it, slapping it away. It rolled to the middle of the table.
“It’s true!”
“Justine, go get something to eat,” Martin commanded.
“But I’m not finished with my story yet!” She pouted with her entire body.
“Just do it.”
“Fine!”
When she’d gone, Martin leaned forward after scrubbing both hands over his face. “Trevor must be next on his list.”
“Why the heck were they...kissing?” I could feel the bridge of my nose wrinkle. “Is that how wraiths take a soul once they buy it?”
“No.” Martin shook his head. “I’ve never heard of that before. Maybe he’s taking Trevor’s energy or something...”
“What is he, a Dementor?” Serena asked.
“Well...the Dementors were wraiths...” Martin leaned back.
“I thought they were liches,” I said.
He shook his head. “No. Liches are reanimated skeleton mages.”
“Don’t tell me those are real, too.” I propped my chin in my hand.
“Our guy isn’t a Dementor. I don’t know what he was doing with Trevor. All I know is that it spells trouble,” Martin said.
“Can’t you just...banish Irish Moses, Martin?” Why hadn’t I thought of that before?
“Not if he doesn’t stay in one body long enough. And I can’t seem to get him alone. Do you really think he’d let me banish him?”
Good point.
“Well, crap.” I stood up.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“I’m going to find Trevor.”
“I’m coming, too!” he shouted.
“You’re not going anywhere, sit down!” Justine yelled as she slammed her lunch tray onto the table.
“This is none of your—”
“Let me finish my story!”
She cut me off, reclaiming her place by Martin’s side.
“I don’t have time—”
“I reported him! God!” She shook her head while opening a can of soda.
I slumped back into my seat. “You what?”
“Jesus, if you would have let me finish in the first place... Can I finish now?” She stared daggers at me.
“By all means.”
“Thank you. As I was saying...after I saw him and Trevor going at it—”
“Ew,” Serena repeated.
“—I went straight to the principal’s office to report him. No way am I gonna go to a school where a creep teacher like him works. He’s still in there, too.” She seemed pleased with herself, permitting a smile.
Martin locked eyes with me. We both knew what that meant.
“Even if he’s lucky, there will be meetings with the school and state board. He could be locked down for hours.”
I could have kissed Justine. But I didn’t.
“Thanks for your help,” I said instead.
“So, what, spaz? Are you, like, in the CIA or something?” she asked.
“What?”
“Yeah. You come here as an exchange student and, two days later, you bust a pedofile teacher who’s been working here for ten years. You’re, like, the female Agent Cody Banks or something.”
“Or something...” I folded my arms over my chest.
“I mean,” she continued, “who knows how many students Mr. Mays has done this to.
“Remember Mark Prescott?” She looked at Martin whose face blanked. “Nobody does. That’s my point. He only went here for a month, and then he just left. And maybe Andy killed himself for the same reason...”
I sighed and glanced toward the big oak tree in the grass across from the cafeteria. It took a minute to realize Julian was waving at me. I stood up and grabbed my backpac
k. Serena would be fine as long as Justine was there. And I doubted she’d leave Martin’s side for a second—seeing as how they were a couple again.
“Gotta go. See you, Lovebirds.”
I hurried away without a glance behind me.
“You’re late.” I tugged Julian by the shirt collar. “Talk and walk.”
“Erm... Well...I spent some time doing research to find your...friend...”
My eyes rolled back into my head. “Yeah? And?”
“I’ve got some phone numbers for you.”
When we reached the payphones, he fished in his pocket and dug out a crumpled piece of paper.
“What’s Google?” he asked as I inspected the list of five numbers with C. Gibbons scrawled at the top.
“It’s a search engine.”
“Sounds like a foreign food.”
I handed him my cell phone. “You start at the bottom, and I’ll start at the top,” I said.
Before I could search for some change, Julian placed a gentle hand on my arm. I turned to look at him.
“Before you do this,” he said, “tell me about your goal.”
“What?”
“What was your goal?” He studied me with those eyes.
I took a deep breath. “Well... At first I didn’t know. I literally had no clue. I wrote up a Life List, and did everything I could. But...I wanna say that it was getting a big solo in choir.”
“Forgive me for saying, but that doesn’t seem very...”
“Eventful?”
He nodded.
“I know. I thought it was lame, too. I mean, shouldn’t a life goal be something amazing, like winning the Nobel Prize or the Lottery? Not like you’d need to win the lottery when you’re going to die.”
“So, you admit that a life purpose isn’t always as it seems?”
“Sure.”
“Then why can’t you believe Serena’s life goal may just be skydiving?”
I drew back to give him a what-the-hell look. “You mean after all this helping me find Charles stuff, you’re backing out?” I pointed an accusatory finger at him.
He held up both hands. “Not backing out,” he assured me. “I’m just trying to make you see both sides of the coin. I personally hope her speaking to her father is what it’ll take. But I can’t deny that if she truly doesn’t wish to reconcile with him, then it’s not meant to be. Do you see what I’m getting at?”
“I guess... What should I do?”
He pursed his lips. “You should do what you think is right. What does Katherine Bunny think is the right thing to do?”
I thought for a moment. What was the right thing to do? I’d been spending so much time believing I could find Charles Gibbons and stop Irish Moses that I hadn’t even thought about what it meant to Serena.
My mind drifted to my former best friend, Sherry.
Sherry’s dad had left her and her mom when she was twelve.
She was the victim of a home wrecker.
Some “thought she was hot” woman got in the way and stole Sherry’s dad away from her family. My best friend had been so upset, that she’s refused to speak to her father.
When I’d been forced to recreate my life, as far as I knew, she still wasn’t speaking to him.
Sherry had some issues because of it. Because her father had left her and her mother, she had problems with abandonment, and was not a fan of secrets.
When I had to stay with Kevin for a night, she flipped and accused me of sleeping with him.
And even though she was high-maintenance and could be a pain, the laughs and inside jokes we shared outweighed the messes.
There was no way I was going to let Serena die with any kind of hate in her heart. With that in mind, I reached for the phone.
“I want to find Charles Gibbons.”
Julian nodded, a smile breaking across his face.
“I’ll start at the bottom. You start at the top.”
In a barrage of awkward and disjointed telephone calls, we wheedled the list down to a point. I called three of the C Gibbons’ on the list, and Julian called two. My results were a Christopher Gibbons who was eighty-nine years old and a Charlotte Gibbons who had died six months before.
The other call I’d placed was an answering machine where I left a garbled message, making it sound important and asking the recipient to call me back.
Julian had worse luck than I did. The two numbers he had called both belonged to impatient women who screeched into the phone about bothering them.
When we’d finished, we crossed the grass back to the lunch table.
“What now?” I asked.
“I’m not sure.”
I sighed and fell into my seat next to Serena. Rubbing my hands over my face, I said, “I’m so tired!”
“Who are you?” Justine sneered at Julian.
“He’s a friend,” I replied.
“See my point?” She raised an eyebrow at Martin. “She’s got strange habits and even stranger friends.”
She turned back to me. “Unless he’s a student, he can’t be here.”
“Oh, what? Now you’re a sucker for rules?” I didn’t even look at her. “Go suck your boyfriend’s face.”
She giggled. “Don’t mind if I do.”
But before the disgusting sideshow could start, my cell phone vibrated in my pocket.
Julian and I looked at each other, sharing a silent hope that the last person on our list of C Gibbons’ was calling back.
I stood, fished it out, and pressed it to my ear, stepping out of earshot of the table.
“Hello?”
“Yeah,” a man’s voice said on the other end, “I received a call from someone asking about a missing person.”
I stole a glance at Julian. He looked just as hopeful as I felt. “Yes, that was me. Is your name Charles Gibbons?”
“Yes. Who is this?”
“My name is Katie. I’m a friend of Serena Gibbons’. Do you know her?”
Silence.
Julian mouthed the word what, but I ignored him, waiting for the man on the other end to say something—anything.
“Meet me at the Old Red Courthouse tonight at eight.”
The phone went dead in my hand. I slipped it back into my pocket, feeling a jump of excitement in my pulse.
“Back at square one?” Julian asked.
“No. We’re going to Court.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
That night, we all headed to court.
Later that afternoon, I’d heard a rumor that Irish Moses—Mr. Mays—was arrested and sitting in a holding cell in a police station. When Katie let slip that she was meeting Serena’s father that night while her first assignment was in her skydiving class, I volunteered to be a lookout.
No way was I going to spend another second with Justine. The girl couldn’t keep her hands to herself. So gross.
That night, we took a taxi to the sprawling red façade of the Old Red Courthouse in Dallas. Julian had come with us, but also remained in class with Serena so he could let us know if anything came up.
“How’s Serena?” Katie asked as we stood on the sidewalk.
Julian twisted up his face. “My Lord...what are they teaching in those classes?”
Katie rolled her eyes. “She’s making out with her instructor, isn’t she?”
“In the hallway.” Julian nodded.
She shook her head as we headed off to the front of the building, circling around and weeding through the people milling about.
Most people were there as tourists—taking photos and not watching where they were going.
So when I saw the man lounging against one wall of the giant church entrance, nursing a cigarette and looking like he owned the place, I figured it must have been Serena’s father.
Katie stopped in the middle of the walkway. I knew we were so close.
Katie wouldn’t give up until her assignment passed on to the next dimension without regret.
“Is that him?” Julian a
sked.
I took a closer look. The man had a thin, gaunt face, dark hair, and was tall and lanky. But, he didn’t look anything like Serena. When he spotted us looking at him, he motioned for us to come over.
When Katie approached him, she held out her hand.
She seemed eager to get going on the process of reuniting him with his daughter.
“Mr. Gibbons?” She waited for his answer with bated breath.
“Yeah.” He didn’t take her hand.
“My name is Katie. I’m a good friend of your daughter, Serena’s. I was really glad to find you, because she wants to—”
“Let me just stop ya right there.” He held up a hand, his eyes so narrow I could barely see the color. His skin was pasty and grey, like he’d been smoking too long.
“When you asked me over the phone if I knew Serena Gibbons, I had to meet you, because I had to see who it was that was comin’ after me.”
“Coming after you?” She asked.
“We’re not after you, Mr. Gibbons. Your daughter wants to see you—”
“What was your name again?” he demanded of Katie, holding up a hand in my direction.
“Katie.”
“Well, Katie, I just wanted to meet you face-to-face to tell you this in front of God and everybody: I have no daughter.”
She and Charles stared at each other with such intensity that it felt as though no one else were around.
Had I heard him correctly? Was he denying his only child’s existence? But how could he? After all those years...
“But...Serena wants to see you...” Her voice was losing confidence.
“Look,” he said, his tone clipped and short. He was angry, that much was apparent. “This is the only time I’m gonna tell you this, so listen carefully, yeah?
“Serena is a spoiled brat who never did me or anyone else any good. Her fame is a result of her utter lack of tact and manners.
“The day she signed her life away on that lousy record deal was the day I lost my child. If I ever hear from you again, I’ll contact the police and have you arrested.”
With that, he walked past us and out of our lives. He walked out of everyone’s lives.
Charles Gibbons turned his back on his last chance to reconcile with his daughter.
His wife was dead, and now his child was going to be in just three days.
* * *
“It’s all my fault...” Katie muttered.