“Climb go the top of the Statue of Liberty,” she said after a minute.
“That might be fun,” I agreed. “You just have to get there. I’m not driving you,” I added.
“Fine. Um, what else? Learn how to shoot a gun.”
“Why?”
“Why do I need a reason? I just want to.”
“You might have some trouble getting a license,” I noted dryly.
“But you could get one, right?”
“Oh, sure. And then you’d murder someone with it and I’d be charged with the crime because it would only have my fingerprints on it.”
“Ooh, I never thought of that.” Her thoughtful expression wasn’t very reassuring. “I could go on a crime spree and no one could stop me! They’d never even see me doing it!”
“I really hope you’re just kidding about that.”
“Of course! I’d never do anything bad.” She still looked thoughtful, though.
“Glad to hear it. What else?”
“Um, I wanted to eat –” She suddenly giggled.
“What?”
She grinned from ear to ear. “I wanted to eat a ghost pepper.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. I like spicy food but I never got to try one.”
“Do you even have a stomach now?”
“Well –” She looked down at herself doubtfully. “I don’t know. I have teeth and a tongue and a throat, don’t I?” She opened her mouth wide for me to check.
“Yes, you definitely do. We’ll have to try that out sometime.” We were almost at the Mustang now so I reached into my pocket for the key fob. The lights flashed in response.
“Oh, I know what we can do!” Olivia said eagerly. “I never learned how to drive!”
I looked from her to my car and back again. “No.”
“Please!” She clasped her hands together to plead her case. “I’ll be very careful, I promise.”
“No. You don’t have learner’s permit and my insurance doesn’t cover accidents caused by noncorporeal spirits.”
“Just once around a parking lot, that’s all, so I know what it’s like. I’ll do something for you afterwards, anything you want.” She batted her eyes at me but I shook my head adamantly.
“No, absolutely not,” I told her firmly. “There’s no way I’m letting you drive my car.”
I walked around to the driver’s side and pointed to the other side. Olivia pouted and stood by the passenger door but then she looked at me with her big blue-gray eyes and twirled a strand of her hair around her finger. A tentative smile teased her lips.
“Stop that,” I told her. “You’re not driving my car and that’s final. Now get in, we’re going home.”
23
Are people inherently good or are they evil? If they find themselves in a situation where there are no laws – or at least no law enforcers – will they still respect and help one another or will they heedlessly steal and maim and kill? If the Apocalypse comes, will the survivors band together and rebuild civilization or will that mark the end of humanity?
There are arguments to be made for both sides. Some will point out that mankind could never have become the dominant species on the planet if its natural instincts lead it to harm others. On the other hand, it’s hard to watch the news most nights and not despair for our future.
I lean towards the belief that people are basically good but easily misled. Without the threat of punishment, whether it’s a sentence handed down in a court of law or the censure of others around you, most of us will stray sooner or later. Sometimes it’s out of ignorance – I didn’t know that would happen – sometimes it’s peer pressure – they made me do it – and sometimes it’s just reckless curiosity – I wonder what this will be like. Most of us learn from the experience and never do it again. Others don’t and end up on the evening news.
“Okay, now press the brake and shift into drive.” I held my breath as Olivia carefully followed my instructions, feeling the car lurch slightly as the transmission’s gears meshed, ready to send us hurtling across the school parking lot. “Take your foot off the brake and slowly push the accelerator.” The Mustang started rolling forward and then surged alarmingly. “Not so hard!” I yelled, almost reaching for the gear shift to shove it in neutral. Olivia nodded jerkily and the car slowed to a walking pace, unlike my heart rate. “Okay, now just follow the lane to the end.”
Olivia bit her lip, clutching the steering wheel like it was a life preserver in shark-infested waters. She had the seat pulled all the way up so she could reach the pedals and she had to crane her neck to see over the hood. She didn’t seem to be blinking at all. “When do I turn?” she asked breathlessly.
“Wait until we’re almost at the end of the row.” I glanced around again nervously to check for passing patrol cars. It would be hard to explain why I was driving around the parking lot in the middle of the night, although not as hard as explaining how I was doing it from the passenger seat.
Hellburn High looked abandoned with all of the dark windows overlooking us. Our headlights were off to reduce the likelihood of anyone noticing us from the street but the moon was bright enough to show the stripes on the pavement and keep us from running into anything.
“Okay, now start turning to the right.” Olivia pulled the wheel over and the car slowed to a crawl. “Don’t let up on the gas.” The Mustang jumped, throwing my head back against the headrest. “Easy! Just press gently and turn harder.”
We jerked and weaved around the curve and finally got ourselves pointed in the opposite direction. We weren’t exactly lined up with the lane but I counted it as a victory anyway. “All right, now just a little bit faster.”
I winced in anticipation but Olivia seemed to be getting a handle on it now. We accelerated smoothly and I got her centered up between the parking slots. “Okay, now get ready to turn again. Slow down a bit. Slow down. Slow down!”
My foot stomped on a nonexistent brake as the walkway raced towards us at an alarming rate. Olivia hauled the wheel over and we squealed around the turn just inches from the curb. She overcorrected and we wobbled back and forth like she couldn’t decide which side of the light pole to pass on. I wanted to close my eyes and cover my head but I didn’t dare.
“Stop!” I shouted in a strangled voice. “Stop Stop STOP!”
Olivia finally found the brake and the Mustang came to a shuddering halt two feet from disaster. I quickly reached over and moved the gear shift into park.
“Okay, well, that wasn’t bad for your first time.” My voice was a lot calmer than the screaming going on in my head.
“Really?” Olivia beamed. “I wasn’t going too fast just then?”
“Maybe just a little. How about we call it a night for now?”
“Why?” she pouted. “I was just getting used to it.”
“You don’t want to get through your whole list in one night,” I pointed out. “You won’t have anything to do tomorrow.”
“I suppose,” she sighed reluctantly. She tried to open the driver’s door but she couldn’t muster enough leverage without her hand passing through it, so she finally just ghosted through. I got out as well and we met by the trunk. “Thank you, Peter,” she told me shyly. “I really appreciate you letting me do this.”
“No problem,” I said automatically, although there was no way I’d ever let her behind the wheel ever again, no matter how many times she batted her eyes at me. I finally understood why my driving instructor always looked like he had PTSD.
“So what do you want to do now?” she asked, twisting a lock of hair around her finger.
“Me?”
“I promised I’d do anything you want if you let me drive, so ...” She let her voice trail off, looking up at me with her big eyes and a tentative smile playing on her lips.
“Oh, um, I don’t really know,” I hedged. I hadn’t actually planned to take her up on that. “Whatever you want to do, I guess.”
Her smile faded into a dis
appointed frown, as if she had something in mind but was hoping I’d suggest it first. I couldn’t imagine what it might be, though. “Well, we could go back to your house,” she said, running her fingers along the edge of the Mustang’s trunk, “or ...” She looked up at me hopefully again.
“Or?” She was sending me some sort of signal, I knew that much. I just couldn’t figure out what it was.
“Or,” she sighed, apparently deciding that being coy wasn’t working, “we could do something that’s not on my list.”
“Like what?”
“Murder.”
“What?”
“Not actual murder! But when you said that thing about me murdering someone with a gun and no one knowing it, I got to thinking.”
“About what?” I asked carefully.
“I’ve never done anything bad, ever. I never got into trouble, I never talked back to Momma and Poppa, I always went to church on Sundays, I never said any bad words. I was good all the time.”
“Good is good,” I observed.
“Good is boring!” she argued. “I want to do something bad, just once.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” I said doubtfully.
“I know! That’s why I want to do it!” She smiled at me eagerly while I tried to follow her logic. “I mean, look at me,” she insisted, spreading her arms. “I’m already dead. Nothing I do is going to make that any worse so I can do anything I want now, right?”
“I don’t think that’s exactly true. What if you accidentally hurt somebody?” Or wreck their car, I added silently, eyeing the Mustang.
“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” she insisted, “I just want to feel what it’s like to do something I’m not supposed to do.”
“Like what?”
“Well, I don’t know. What sort of bad things have you done?” She looked at me expectantly.
“None,” I insisted. “I’ve been a proper Boy Scout my entire life.”
Olivia snorted skeptically. “Is there a merit badge for panty theft now?”
“I didn’t steal them, I found them!”
“In Marissa’s drawer, I bet. How many did you take?”
“Melissa and no, I didn’t take any of them,” I told her firmly. “They were all on the ground.”
“All?” she echoed incredulously. “How many of her panties do you have?”
“Oh, uh, just two,” I mumbled, suddenly flustered. “Except she found one and took it back,” I added quickly, as if that somehow cancelled that one out. Then I remembered what Melissa did with them after she confronted me about it. I slowly reached into my pocket and extracted all three crumpled pieces of cloth: my handkerchief and both pairs of Melissa’s panties. Olivia’s jaw fell open.
“Oh my God!” she exclaimed with a horrified look. “You just carry them around with you?”
“It’s not my fault!” I told her desperately. “She just keeps dropping them!”
“Why would she do that?”
“She’s trying to – Dara’s making her – look, it’s complicated,” I sighed. “I’m going to return them as soon as I can, I swear.”
Olivia’s mouth twisted, as if she wasn’t sure she should believe me. “Momma says that good girls should always dress modestly.”
“Well, that’s good advice, I suppose.” I jammed my collection back into my pocket.
“So a girl who gives her panties to a boy is bad, right?” she said thoughtfully.
“Melissa’s not bad,” I insisted. “She just a bit confused right now.” Olivia just looked at me with an odd sort of expression, halfway between nervous and excited. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Turn around.”
I glanced over my shoulder but there was nothing there except an empty moonlit parking lot. “Why?”
“Just do it. And close your eyes,” she added.
“What’s going on?”
“You’ll see.” She caught her lip between her teeth with a teasing smile. “Go on.” She twirled her finger and I reluctantly turned my back. “No peeking!” she ordered.
“What are you doing?” She didn’t respond and I couldn’t hear any sound at all from behind me. She’s a ghost, I reminded myself. She can’t do anything to me, right? “Olivia?” I asked uneasily.
“Okay, you can turn around again.”
I did and found her standing in the same spot, grinning at me with her hands behind her back. I looked around but I didn’t see anything different. “So what was that all about?” I asked carefully.
“I’m about to do something bad,” she declared. “Hold out your hand.”
“What’s behind your back?” I asked suspiciously. I tried to see what she was hiding but she skipped back out of reach.
“Nuh-uh, no peeking! Just hold out your hand.”
“It’s not a frog, is it?” I asked as I obeyed reluctantly.
“No, silly. It’s a reward for being so nice to me tonight.” She brought her closed fist around, watching my face as she positioned it over my open palm. “You can’t keep them, though, okay? I want them back later.”
“Okay,” I agreed doubtfully. “So what is it?”
“These.” She opened her hand and dropped a wadded ball of something pink onto my hand. It was curiously cold against my skin and I poked it gingerly with my finger.
“I don’t get it.” I pinched the object between my fingers and gently shook it out, revealing it to be a pair of translucent panties. Now it was my turn for my jaw to drop open. “Are these yours?” I asked incredulously.
“Maybe.” Olivia gripped the sides of her nightgown, making absolutely sure the hem didn’t rise up past her knees. “I’m so nervous,” she admitted, ducking her head. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“Well, that’s very, um, bad of you.” She grinned at that, although she still couldn’t meet my eyes. “You should probably, um, put these back on, though. You wouldn’t want to catch cold or something.”
“Peter!” She looked dismayed. “Don’t you want them? I mean, I know they’re not sexy or anything but I’m –” She looked around carefully for any eavesdroppers. “I’m naked underneath!” she whispered. Her grip tightened on her nightgown.
“No, they’re great!” I assured her hastily. “I’ll just, um, hang on to them for now. Just remind me to return them, you know, later.” Her smile returned in full force and I tried not to sigh too obviously. Why do these things keep happening to me? I wondered bleakly. Dara can’t be affecting her too, can she? What would be the point? Olivia’s a ghost, we can’t do anything together.
Little Peter hastened to remind me that she was a poltergeist now. If she can drive your car, he suggested slyly, she can shift your gear stick, if you know what I mean.
“So,” I cleared my throat, “what’s next, then? Home?” I suggested hopefully.
“No, I’m not done being bad yet!” Olivia protested. “I want to do something else now.”
“Like what?” I asked uneasily. She still had a death grip on her nightgown so I was hoping her enthusiasm for this new lifestyle would wear off soon.
“Like ... like ...” She looked around for inspiration. In the distance, the 7-Eleven store on the corner gleamed like a red-and-green beacon. “I want to steal something!”
“Olivia!” I exclaimed, aghast. “Stealing is a crime!”
“That’s the idea.”
“My dad is the Chief of Police! I’m not going to help you commit a crime!”
“I won’t take anything big,” she argued. “Maybe just a chocolate bar or something.”
“No. Petty theft is still theft.” I crossed my arms to illustrate my resolve.
“Peter!” she wheedled. “You’re supposed to help me!”
“Since when? I’ve just been humoring you because I feel bad about you being dead.”
“Fine,” she hmphed. “I’ll just do it on my own.” She turned and walked away, still holding her nightgown tightly. She got about ten paces before looking ove
r her shoulder. “And don’t try to stop me!” she called, looking all the while like she wished I would.
“Don’t worry, I’m staying right here.”
“Fine!” She stalked off and then came to a halt before she got to the edge of the parking lot. She looked down at herself and then turned around and came all the way back. “I want my panties back,” she insisted tersely, glaring somewhere in the direction of my left knee. “I’m going to need both hands.”
I rolled my eyes. “Sure.” I held out my hand but it was empty. I looked down at the ground, figuring I’d dropped them during our argument, but they were nowhere to be seen.
“Stop fooling around, Peter,” she told me angrily. “Give me my panties!”
“I don’t know where they are.” I checked my pockets but all I found were Melissa’s two pairs. “Where’d they go?”
“What? They’re gone?” Olivia locked her knees together and wrapped her nightgown around her legs tighter than a tourniquet. “What did you do with them?”
“Nothing! They just disappeared!”
“That’s impossible! They’re panties, they can’t just vanish!”
“Well,” I said carefully, “they weren’t real, actually, were they?” She blinked at me with a what-in-the-world-are-you-talking-about sort of expression. “I mean, they’re made of ghost stuff, like the rest of you. Maybe anything that you’re not touching anymore just goes poof.”
“What? You mean I’m stuck walking around like this for the rest of eternity? Oh my God!” She looked like she was on the verge of a panic attack. “What am I going to do?” she wailed.
“Well, it’s not like anyone can see you,” I said awkwardly.
“You can!”
Don’t look, don’t look, I told myself desperately, but Little Peter took control of my eyes and turned them south.
“Peter!” she exclaimed, ducking out of sight behind the Mustang. “Stop looking me!”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to! It’s just – well, let’s just call it a night and go home, okay? Maybe Mrs. Kendricks can figure something out.” I sincerely doubted that but I didn’t want to hang around the school all night trying to comfort a terminally embarrassed ghost. I heard something that sounded like yeep but I couldn’t tell if that meant she agreed with the plan.
Soul Mates Page 30