Alex McKenna & the Academy of Souls

by Vicki-Ann Bush

  Turning to shush the perpetrators, she was surprised when she found the rest of the class with their noses down, reading. Giggling behind her caused her body to pivot around toward the back of the class—nothing. The breeze whisked by catching the back of her hair and swishing it around her shoulders. Ophelia stood up.

  "Miss Wetherton, is everything all right?" Mrs. S. questioned.

  Ophelia furiously scanned the classroom, nothing.

  "Yes. It's just, did you feel that breeze?” Ophelia said timidly.

  "No, not at all. Please, return to your seat."

  Ophelia sat down, her face burning. She opened her science book to the assigned page and lowered her head, leaving enough space to be able to see around the classroom. When she peered to her right, the frenetic pounding of her phantom heart seized her chest. Ophelia took a closed fist and punched her breastbone to gain control of the beating. A gaping hole not more than four feet in front of her, with its edges peeled back, revealed a line of lockers with three teenage girls laughing at a boy in a Letterman's jacket. Their clothes suggest modern society, similar to what Alex wore.

  Slowly reaching out, she cautiously put her hand up to the window into the other world. A cool stream of air moved in a circular motion around the inside of the passage. Gently, she pushed her right hand through. A shrill scream startled her and she snapped back. The three girls were staring directly at her, remarking to the boy about a hand from nowhere appearing in the hall. Ophelia shot up, but they didn't react. She made a waving gesture, but they didn't seem to see her. They only saw my hand when it punctured the divide between us. They can't see me, or us.

  Ophelia stood enamored in front of the open gateway. A bell rang, theirs. The hall was quickly taken over by scores of yammering students. There's so many of them. She thought. Studying their interaction, she grinned. The kids of today were so different than the classmates she'd had in her time. They never would have been so boisterous and loud. That was grounds for detention. And she nearly fell over when two of the students, both boys, were making out in front of one of the lockers. Her gasp must of have been loud because it caught the attention of Leon Brickman. Best friend to Roger Mooring and Ophelia's unwanted science partner.

  "Sit down mouse, you dumb ass weirdo." Leon moved her chair out.

  Ophelia hated him as much as she did, Roger. They were friends when they were breathers, thieves actually. But not the grab and run type of hooligan. Roger and Leon were much worse. They would break into rich folks’ homes, mostly the lavish Victorian style. Those were the ones with the bucks. If the poor residents happen to be home, they would tie them up and beat them. They said it was to keep them from telling the police. One family did though, the boys made the mistake of stealing the owners prize thoroughbred. They were tracked down, found guilty in a trial that lasted forty-five minutes, and hung in the center of town two days before Christmas, December 23, 1865. The Headmaster was baffled when they arrived, or so the story goes. He knew eventually The Nowhere would take them, until then however, they were the burden of the Academy.

  Ophelia was relieved when Leon was finally forced into The Nowhere by a visiting, extremely skilled, young sorcerer. It was two calm years. Roger didn't act up as much once he was on his own. Everyone was flabbergasted when he returned. He had done the nearly impossible and escaped the clutches of darkness.

  "Shut up, Leon. Stop calling me, mouse. What does that even mean?" Ophelia whispered.

  "You're like a little gray mouse that I could squash with my shoe. That's what it means." Leon gritted his teeth.

  Ophelia wouldn't be intimidated by him, not today. Concentrating on the sea of students, she desperately scoured for the one teen she was focused on—Alex. Coming around the corner from another hallway, he was headed right toward her. Holding hands with a cute brunette, they were exchanging dialogue, eyes locked. She inched closer to the opening. The thought of it closing before she had a chance to communicate burrowed into her mind. Anxiety churned the pit of her stomach, forcing a volcanic mock acid to rise to the back of her throat. She couldn't wait any longer, without realizing the volume, the words passed through her lips puncturing the gateway and capturing the attention of Alex McKenna.

  Alex stalled in place, turning from Margaret, his gaze migrated to Ophelia.

  "What the heck are you looking at?" Margaret asked.

  "It's her. The girl I told you about. The one I saw earlier." Alex stared.

  'Haven?" Margaret circled around.

  "No. The teenage girl."

  "Alex, I don't see anything." Margaret frowned.

  "I don't think anyone does. Just me."

  Ophelia's body shook, he is Alex. She moved closer.

  "Who are you?" Alex questioned.

  The cool air embraced his surroundings, and a shiver danced along his spine.

  Ophelia blinked, her mouth hanging open. He was right in front of her and nothing came out.

  "Do you need help? Are you friends with...Haven?" Alex questioned.

  Ophelia gulped. He did know her.

  "Ophelia. My name is Ophelia. Haven is my..."

  A sudden twist of wind kicked up and knocked her back. She lost her balance and fell to the floor. She cried out in horror as the portal swirled violently and then snapped shut. The last thing she saw was Alex, reaching out for her.

  6

  Where’s Bethany?

  Alex remained long after the last bell rang for class. Margaret had slid down against the wall, waiting for some signs of life.

  "Hello? Are you in there?" Margaret joked.

  "Yeah. I'm here. But I think something is pulling me there."

  "Where?"

  "To Ophelia," he murmured.

  "Wait. What?" Margaret hastily rose to her feet. "Where is it you think you're going?"

  "I'm not really sure." Alex ran his hands through his hair.

  "That's it. We're calling your Gram."

  Alex's great grandmother often assisted him in the difficult cases.

  "We don't need to bother my Gram. I know what I have to do. The next time this doorway opens, I'm walking through it."

  "Are you kidding me with this shit? You don't know who that girl is, where that place is, and for all you know it's some kind of cosmic trap," Margaret argued.

  "I don't think it's a trap. She's connected to Haven somehow. I think they both need my help," Alex argued.

  "Do you remember what happened with the last case? You almost died because of your thick skull." Margaret blinked to fight back the tears.

  Alex relaxed his shoulders. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her close. Sometimes he could get so wrapped up in the spirits that needed him, he forgot about the people close to him. Margaret was frightened for him; he should have known that.

  "I promise ciuccia mia, no rash decisions this time. When she comes again, I'll be ready."

  "Ready how?" Margaret wiped a tear from her cheek.

  "I'll cast a protection spell as soon as the gateway opens." Alex kissed her salty lips.

  Margaret nuzzled her head into his chest.

  "You can't die."

  "I won't."

  Silence filled the crevices of the McKenna household, and for the first time since Alex could remember, it replaced his peace with an ominous void.

  He texted Margaret to see what time she'd be over. Her worry for him had gone into overdrive this afternoon. Which boggled him a little, considering the nature of their last case. In his mind, five ghastly deaths and a giant demon from hell, trumped a teenage girl from a ghostly dimension. Whatever it was that hooked Margaret's fear radar, he would talk to her tonight when she got there. This was supposed to be their time. The house was theirs, the big case solved, and Christmas vacation was around the corner. The ideal setting for an Alex & Margaret, munch, cuddle, and binge-watching weekend.

  He tried to shake off the melancholy, but it didn't want to retreat. He thought it might be the residue left behind from Ophelia, the teen he
encountered earlier. Picturing her, the name fit her. He knew by the appearance of her wavering body she was a spirit, so were the other kids in her class. How odd. He thought. The idea that there was a class comprised only of celestial beings lit a flame of curiosity. This was a new one for him. He had seen many things growing up. From demons to angels, to trapped souls, but this one really intrigued him.

  Ambling into the kitchen, he assessed the snack situation before deciding on Funny Bones and orange juice. Balancing the plate, the glass, and some chips—just in case the chocolaty goodness wasn't enough—he retreated to his bedroom on the second floor.

  Pulling out some of his family’s journals, Alex flipped through the pages searching for anything that could explain his encounter. Luckily, he had the luxury of having the books in his possession. It was only recently that his mom opened up and accepted the family gift of paranormal sensitivity. She had struggled to deny it for years, thinking it would keep Alex and his little brother Wilby, safe. Eventually, it became evident that it only put them at risk. After the Geranium deaths, she brought the books out from hiding. Alex soaked up the words like a sponge. Wilby, being only ten, was more interested in his video games.

  Halfway through the third chapter in a book of his family lineage, there was a brief mention about a school designed for all the wayward souls of teens who didn't crossover into the light; The Academy of Souls. He muttered the words aloud. It mentioned the founder, Barnabas Abernathy, and nothing more.

  Alex scoured the rest of the pages searching for anything that would give him additional information, but there was nothing beyond the short paragraph. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he called his grandmother.

  She picked up after one ring.

  "Alex, is everything all right?" His gram questioned.

  "Hi Gram, all's good. Question. Have you heard of a high school for spirits called The Academy of Souls?" Alex placed his phone on speaker mode and set it on the bed.

  "Sure. It was started by, Barnabas Abernathy. He's Headmaster for the school. Nice man, a little stuffy, but he cares deeply for all his students."

  "You know him? How is it you never mentioned this before?" Alex took a sip of juice.

  "It was a long time ago. A bit of a tortured soul. He had trouble with his sister and nephew if I remember correctly. Why are you asking me this, Bonzetta?"

  "I think I got a glimpse of the Academy today."

  "Does this have anything to do with the little girl, Haven? Is she at the school?"

  "Yes and no. At least I don't think she's at the school. There's someone else, another girl. A teenager, maybe around my age. Her name is Ophelia; I think she knows Haven."

  "How do you know this?" She cleared her throat.

  "You have trouble swallowing again?" Alex sounded concern.

  "I'm fine. Just a little cold."

  "Gram, you promised you'd go to the doctor. You've had that lump in your throat for over a month," Alex pleaded.

  "Never mind that. Answer my question. How do you know her name is Ophelia? Were you able to speak with her?"

  "Yes, for a short time. A portal opened, twice now. At first, I thought it might just be a window, but the second time, I could feel it pulling me. I knew if I got closer, I could pass through it."

  "Be very careful, a living soul doesn't belong at the Academy. I'm not sure what the consequences would be. Alex, there's a possibility you could get permanently trapped there. Don't go through, do you understand?" Mary warned.

  "Okay Gram, I gotta go. Margaret's at the door," he lied.

  "Alex, tell me you'll listen,"

  "I will, I will." Alex swiped the screen on his phone.

  Finishing the last bite of Funny Bone, he slid the books under his bed and lay down. Staring up at the ceiling, his veins pulsed with the remnants of the invisible pull to Ophelia's world. Focusing on school, his family, and his relationship with Margaret, did little to distract the magnet that pulled at his soul. His grandmother's warning crawled to the outer edges of his mind and dropped off, landing in a bottomless pit. If he needed to step into Ophelia's world of the Academy to help her and Haven, he had no choice. This is what he does, why his gifts were given to him. He wasn't about to waste them on fear. Now, to get past his biggest obstacle—Margaret.

  A knock sounded from below. His gate keeper had arrived. Margaret could be a real bad ass when she wanted to, and especially protective of him. But it was a two-way street; they watched out for each other. When Alex had first stepped onto the campus of CATA, Cain Amry Thearige Academy, it wasn't easy. His psychic abilities didn't discriminate. Spirits visit wherever he is. At home, school, or pushing a cart through the grocery store. Alex had to learn how to interact without gaining attention. Not an easy thing to do. But he figured it out. His other obstacle that belonged to others, not him, was a little more difficult to navigate. The hormonal journey his body had set sail on. Causing confusion and sometimes ridicule, from a select few. The several months it took for his doc to get his meds straight were brutal. That's when he met Margaret. Full blown battle, fighting who he knew he was, and the revolution going on within.

  They had casually struck up a conversation here and there, but it wasn't until they were assigned to work as partners for a science project, that the closeness blossomed. He immediately felt drawn to her, but knowing the past, Alex kept his emotions at bay. It was Margaret who made the first move.

  He had the talk with her, several months earlier. Margaret as usual, surprised him. Their relationship didn't change. Good, and not so good. She took his breath away. But he chose silence. He didn't want to scare her off. Being friends was one thing, being in a relationship, came with a whole new set of instructions.

  They were at his house working on the Geranium case. It was after a near death incident, and Margaret grabbed him, devouring his quivering lips. He could still remember the taste of her cherry cola lip balm.

  He stopped her mid kiss. Struggling with the lump that rose in the back of his throat, he fumbled to find the words. He didn't have to. She took his hands in hers and traced the back with her thumbs. She told him none of it mattered to her. She knew how she felt. Then she asked him if he had feelings for her. Alex tried to calm the explosion that was erupting in his body. His heart pushed the walls of his chest to its limits, and he wiped his palms on the leg of his jeans. He cupped her jaw and let his fingers traced the outline of her face and settle beneath her chin. Tilting his head slightly he pressed his lips to hers, once again drinking in the cherry cola. She had been by his side ever since. Whether he chooses full surgery, or not, she is his, and he belongs to her.

  Alex bolted down the stairs and opened the door to his lovely beauty. Throwing her arms around him, she held on tight. Pulling back slightly, he gazed into her soft brown eyes and the smile that melted his heart.

  "Hey, you okay?" He closed the door.

  "Yeah. Just...I don't know, a feeling I've been getting today." Margaret curled her lip.

  "A feeling? Sounds like you're getting some mojo of your own." Alex joked.

  "I'm serious. Don't joke. I'm really worried about this case, and I don't understand why."

  "Well, we're both here now. The weekend is ours and we have a lot of us time to catch up on. So, let's put all of that aside for now, okay? I want you, the couch, some chocolate cookies, and the latest season of Stranger Things, binging on TV. We missed everything with our last case. I love when we get to binge on Halloween, but we can make up for it now." Alex held up a bag of generic cookies.

  Margaret reluctantly nodded.

  "Oh, and forget those store bought, chocolate preservative filled pieces of cardboard. I brought black and whites from Buttercooky Bakery." Margaret pulled the bag from her purse.

  "Even better." Alex grabbed her waist and they collapsed on the couch.

  Lying on the plush cushions, Margaret's body entangled in his, he decided to take his own advice and not mention his plans for the next time Ophelia shows up. The n
uclear reaction could wait until the weekend was over; he hoped.

  Ophelia glided up and floated to her seat. Leon glared with narrowed eyes and pursed lips, shaking his head back and forth.

  "There is something seriously wrong with you, mouse. Makes me wish I could cut your brain out and see what's misfiring."

  Ophelia quickly turned away.

  "Don’t be a spaz, Leon!" Kyle gently touched her forearm. "Are you okay, Ophelia?"

  "I'm okay."

  Ten minutes until class ended, she couldn't wait to escape the confines of Leon's damning glare. She swore that if she hadn't already been dead, he would have killed her just for fun. Evil blackened his soul, nurturing the darkness. Just like his best friend Roger, Leon had a taste for brutality.

  Ophelia never looked up once in the remaining time. Keeping herself aloof to his constant annoying ways to gain recognition, it would be the only way she'd make it out of there without any further confrontation. Although Leon was a malevolent bastard, he had an extremely limited attention span. No doubt he was already plotting his new poem of verbal abuse for some unsuspecting soul in his next class.

  The welcoming ring of the three o’clock bell brought a sigh of relief. Ophelia couldn't gravitate out of there fast enough. She headed straight for the courtyard where she knew Amry would be. It was their unofficial meeting spot when they both had a free period.

  "Hey, Ophelia! Wait." Kyle called out.

  "I'm going to the courtyard. Meet me there." Ophelia didn't slow down.

  Amry was lying on the grass under a large oak tree, eyes closed.

  "What are you doing?" Ophelia held her hand to the sun.

  "Seeing what it would be like." Amry raised her chin.