A Soul's Kiss

by Debra Chapoton

  “I think there are two reasons. For one thing, with you and Tyler and Michael, I slipped in while you were sort of dreaming. With Hannah, she was fully awake. She wouldn’t acknowledge me for days.” I look down at our feet. It was nice to have the feeling of feet in shoes. “And two, I’m pretty sure Hannah wants me to stay.”

  “But weren’t you here to try to get back into Jessica’s, uh, your body?”

  “Yes, but . . .”

  “What?” Rashanda starts cocking her head like she’s solving a complex equation. “Oh, no. You want to stay in Hannah, don’t you?”

  “Rashanda,” I concentrate hard on keeping Hannah down, because what I’m going to say next might make her creep back, “we’re going to be Homecoming queen. I have to stay.”

  Tyler

  We had a little stare down, me and that a-hole Michael. I can’t understand what any girl, even Hannah, could see in him. Biggest phony in the school. In grade school he was a bully on the playground. He hadn’t changed a bit—he just fooled more people.

  “What are you looking at, quitter?” The words snarled out of his mouth like he was playing a gangster part. Crap, if he called me quitter one more time I’d make him wish he hadn’t.

  “To answer your earlier question,” I said as calmly as I could, “about what we’re all doing here—it should be obvious, even to an idiot, that we’re all concerned about Jessica. Remember Jessica? The girl you put in the hospital?”

  “Hey, I wasn’t driving.”

  Something about the way he said it made me think he was lying. Even though I was fairly certain that Keith would never let anyone else drive his brand new car, Michael’s response made me question that assumption.

  “You were responsible,” I said, keeping my attention steady on his face. He didn’t deny it. He shifted his weight to his other foot and glanced at the bathroom door.

  The door opened and Rashanda came out. I had a glimpse of Hannah fixing her hair in front of the mirror, changing the part with her fingers, and then the door closed and Rashanda leaned against it. She looked at me and gave me a tight-lipped nod, then took a breath and spoke to Michael.

  “She’ll be out in a minute. Uh, she’s embarrassed. She’ll probably act funny. Be nice to her.” She stared at Michael and made the most un-Rashanda statement: “Be nice or you’ll flippin’ wish you had.” I wondered how she suddenly got her nerve back around him. It made me smile.

  Michael moved back an inch then drew himself up a little taller as Hannah came out. “Just a second,” he said to her. He came over to the hospital bed and leaned in close to Jessica’s ear. He whispered too low for me to hear, but her legs started quivering again and Hannah started bouncing on her toes, anxious or jealous or nervous, I couldn’t tell.

  Or connected.

  Crap.

  Don’t go with him, I almost said, moving away from Jessica’s bed and looking to Rashanda for help.

  Rashanda stepped in my way and pulled me back toward the window. “It’s okay, let her leave.” I thought of last Thursday when I’d said nearly the same thing to her. Things didn’t work out too well then.

  Hannah, or I guess it was Jessica now, left with that jerk. She had Rashanda’s jacket tied around her waist. The door closed softly behind them. I was split between running after Hannah and staying right there with Jessica. Split. Just like Jessica was split from her body.

  “How long,” I asked Rashanda, “how long do you think Jessica can be split in two like this? Is it her soul? Her spirit? I don’t get it.”

  Rashanda moved to the chair by Jessica’s head and sat down. “I don’t know. My grandmother says you have a body, a soul, and a spirit. The body is aware of the world, you know, like touching and smelling and seeing. The soul is aware of yourself. Thinking, I guess. And the spirit is aware of God. I think it’s her soul that’s separated from her body.”

  Strange. I didn’t understand any of that. I thought if your soul left your body you were dead. I thought the soul and the spirit were the same thing. I wanted to hit something.

  Rashanda leaned closer to Jessica’s head and whispered in her ear. She wasn’t as soft as Michael had been and I heard what I’d expect a friend to say. Words of hope. Distress. Support. And then her words fell lower and she begged her not to be Homecoming queen. Or maybe I heard that wrong.

  “Well, we can go now, I suppose,” Rashanda leaned back. “Jessica is not coming back for awhile.”

  “What?”

  Rashanda had the saddest look in her eyes. “Jessica is going to be Hannah at least until after Homecoming. Who knows how long she can stay ‘out of body’ like this. Two more weeks may be fatal. Maybe she’s . . . gone . . . already.” She couldn’t mean dead. I watched the breathing machine go up and down.

  “Why Homecoming?”

  “Didn’t you see the lists this morning? Hannah and Michael are the obvious choices for king and queen. The rest of the ones on the ballot aren’t nearly so popular. Jessica can stay inside Hannah and live her dream fantasy.” Rashanda looked pissed.

  I tipped my head toward the restroom. “What did you two say in there? Did she tell you all that?”

  “Basically, yeah.”

  “And you didn’t talk her out of it?”

  “No point. She can be stubborn. And besides, she said she was stuck inside of Hannah and couldn’t get out like she did with us.”

  I gripped the cold railing of the bed.

  Rashanda kissed her fingers and pressed them to Jessica’s immobilized forehead and said she’d meet me in the hall if I wanted to stay and say goodbye.

  I felt awkward to be alone with a sleeping Jessica. Her body was so still now. I put both my hands on one of hers and clasped it briefly. I had no right to hold her hand so I put my fingers back on the rail. I studied her face. Her skin was so smooth and white you’d never know she’d started the school year with an awesome tan. I had some things I wanted to explain to her before she woke, before a nurse came in, before her parents returned.

  “Jessica.” The single word seemed too loud. I whispered then, “Jessica, I, um, I was going to ask you to Homecoming.” I glanced back at the door to make sure it was closed. I leaned over to her ear and told her more. Maybe, just maybe, if her spirit was still there and the physical hearing and all was still connected she would hear me. I might as well say it all, red-faced and white-knuckled. “Jessica,” oh, crap, “I love you.”

  Jessica

  Monday afternoon

  Michael presses the down button for the elevator and looks at me, or rather Hannah, sideways. I run my fingers through her hair. I like being blonde. I smile at Michael. Or rather, grin. Probably a stupid I-know-something-you-don’t-know grin.

  We step into the elevator and as soon as the doors close, I tell him, in Hannah’s softest voice, the good news.

  “Guess what? I’m not pregnant.”

  His face is blank. I suppose he’s never practiced a reaction to that kind of news. I laugh and press the lobby button. I don’t know how personal I can be as Hannah, but as the new Hannah I’m free to invent myself so I say, “I got my period.”

  “So why would you have worried about getting pregnant? You said you were on the pill.”

  “Oh yeah, never mind that I said that.” I try for a semi-giggle. Thankfully the elevator door opens and Michael steps out first. I take an instant to review Hannah’s personal memories. It isn’t like thumbing through a magazine, more like rewinding and fast forwarding. She never had a prescription for the pill. Her whole plan to trap Michael played out in my head like additional features on a DVD.

  “Hold up. Wait.” I scoot up to Michael and take his hand. “I was just kidding. I had an accident. Thus the kindness of Rashanda.” I shake the flapping cuff of the windbreaker.

  “Thus?” He drops my hand and goes through the revolving door first. I guess I’m not sounding very much like Hannah. I quickly replay some bland lunchroom chatter of theirs to get a feel for my part. I am understudying Han
nah for the lead in the best high school drama ever, at least in my opinion, and I don’t want to blow it.

  “Yeah,” I say, catching up to him. “Rashanda lent me her jacket to cover up the, uh, stain. Nice of her.” Then I add, “Such a little do-gooder, huh? A suck-up.” A twinge of disloyalty pricks my conscience and I can hear Rashanda’s gentle voice coaxing me to come back up to the hospital room.

  We reach his car and split off to separate sides. I guess he isn’t in the habit of holding doors for Hannah. I’ve idealized him a bit, I suppose, but there’s nothing wrong with him being like every other teenaged guy. How many girls want a guy to put her on a pedestal anyway?

  I buckle my seatbelt and smile at him. He smiles back and seems to hesitate a moment. “So, you all right, then?”

  I nod and try to keep the butterflies down. He hasn’t buckled up yet and he’s leaning my way. A kiss is imminent. I lick my lips and let the adrenalin fuel the rush of anticipation. Michael Hoffman is going to kiss me. Me, not Hannah.

  But he won’t know it’s not Hannah.

  “What’s the matter?” he says, pulling back.

  “Nothing. What’s the matter with you?” There, that sounds like Hannah.

  “You’re acting weird,” is all he says.

  “No, I’m not.” Just the right hint of bitchiness. I close my eyes and hope I look ready for that kiss. All I see in my imagination is Tyler’s face, though, and his voice saying I love you. As clear as if he were whispering it in my ear. Hannah laughs at me from wherever she is and my eyes, her eyes, spring open. Michael isn’t looking at us, me; he’s staring at the car next to us. His expression blisters with anger. Mrs. Clark might praise his emoting skills, but I’m confused by them. He starts the car and drives me home, well, to Hannah’s house. I hope there will be a goodbye kiss, but he never even looks at me when we pull up the driveway.

  “See ya tomorrow,” he says.

  I am totally confused about what he could be so angry about. What did I do? I reach for the door handle and try to come up with the right thing to say to bring back the nice Michael. “Okay, text me.” So lame. Hannah is no help at all. “See ya.” I shove the door closed.

  I have some serious thinking and planning to do. I need to call my best friend.

  Tyler

  Monday afternoon

  Sometimes you can hear one half of a phone conversation and make no sense of it. Sometimes you can. Rashanda kept giving me sidelong glances. She answered her phone with a hello that sounded like she didn’t know the caller. Who? Are you kidding me? I knew immediately who it was. Imagine getting a call from someone in a coma. Inconceivably mind-blowing.

  “What’s the address?”

  Rashanda turned toward the window.

  “How can you not know it?”

  Her voice went down to a whisper.

  “Can’t she tell you?”

  She waited two beats.

  “So it’s number five fifty-nine on Leonard Street.”

  I knew where Leonard Street was.

  “Um, I don’t know. Tyler’s driving me home right now. I don’t think my mom’s car would be home yet.”

  I glanced over at her. Her eyes met mine.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  Oh, man. What wasn’t a good idea?

  “Okay, I’ll ask him, but then how would I get home?”

  Crap.

  “Hold on a sec.”

  I already had my left turn blinker on so we could cut through Parkside. I was certain it linked up with Leonard. “No problem,” I said to Rashanda before she asked the question. “I can take you to Hannah’s and give you a ride back home, too.” I was just glad to know that Michael wasn’t around Jessica right now.

  Rashanda relayed the plan, said goodbye, pocketed her phone and started cracking her knuckles. I didn’t think girls did that. She cleared her throat before she spoke. “I’m sorry, Tyler. I don’t want to help her, but I don’t want to not help her, either. You know?”

  * * *

  The neighborhood was nice with big houses and neatly manicured lawns. Hannah’s house had the best yard and landscaping and the grass was still green. I parked even with the stone walkway that led to the front door and Rashanda got out. I followed. I didn’t exactly want to, but she insisted, said it was all right with . . . with Hannah, I guess, though I wondered who we would be talking to.

  “Hey,” I said to Rashanda as we reached the front door, “maybe we should call her Hannica, what do ya think?” She laughed. We were both holding back smiles when Hannah opened the door, only I could tell right away that it was Jessica. Even with Hannah’s hair and face it didn’t make a difference. That was Jessica looking at us with her excited puppy wiggle, bouncing on the balls of her feet. I wondered if her real feet were twitching in the hospital bed right then.

  “Come on in,” she said, holding the door wide. “Hannah’s parents won’t be home until supper, which, by the way,” she rolled her whole head at Rashanda, “I’m cooking.”

  “No way,” Rashanda laughed.

  “Hi, Tyler.”

  “Hi, uh,” crap, I’ll just say it, “hi, Hannica.” I guess she liked that because she nodded her head and her lips went from tightly holding back a smile to an all out beam. Cool. This was definitely not the girl I talked to at lunch today.

  She showed us into the family room and Rashanda commented on all the junk that was cluttering up the room. It was weird that it wasn’t an insult to Hannah, but I guess she had completely yielded or surrendered to Jessica.

  “Um, Tyler,” Jessica said with Hannah’s mouth, “did you whisper in my ear before you left my hospital room?”

  The prickly heat my body generates without notice must have affected my balance, too. I miscalculated the distance to the edge of the couch and tumbled onto the cushion like a dropped load of lumber. I could not look at either of them.

  Jessica

  Monday, late afternoon

  “I was only kidding,” I say. Tyler is so cute when he gets embarrassed. But it makes me feel uncomfortable that I made him go all crimson and scarlet so I add, “You know, that nurse was probably right, and we should whisper in my ear words of encouragement. Right, Rashanda?” I look to her for help. She knows Tyler better than I do; she’s been spending a lot of time with him lately.

  She leaves me hanging for an eternal second and then agrees. “Did you hear me?” Rashanda asks. “I whispered some stuff. Think about it. That may be a clue as to how we can help you get back.”

  She is sitting on an old armchair and I’m on my feet. In fact, I twirl around as I answer her, stick one leg out and point my toes. I’d changed into shorts and now it’s kind of fun to flex Hannah’s muscles. I imitate some of our synchronized swimming movements and say, “Nope, I’m staying right here for now. Hey, how cool would it be to have Hannah suddenly join the team and be an expert at ballet legs and a chain back Dolphin?”

  I don’t get much of a response from either of them. Well, I can imagine how weird this is for them, but not as shocking as it is for me to look in the mirror now, or to hear my voice, look at my hands and be somebody else. I lower myself to the carpet and sit cross-legged.

  “Okay,” I say, “here’s the deal. I want to stay in Hannah until after Homecoming. From now until then I need you guys to do some research for me, check on my status, help me out, that sort of thing.”

  “What kind of research?” Tyler asks. His face is back to normal and I can’t help but think he would make a good model for a Marines poster. Square jaw, serious expression, fiercely hot.

  “Coma stuff,” I say trying to get my imagination back under control. I’m suddenly having some shocking thoughts and wonder if maybe Hannah is interested in Tyler. I’ll have to remember to review her memories about that. “Coma stuff, like brain damage and length of coma and what brings you out of it. And also research on people having out-of-body experiences, what happens, how you get back. That sort of stuff.”

 
“I’ll help,” Tyler says.

  “You know I will,” Rashanda says, “but you have to promise that you’ll listen to us.”

  Hmm, I know where she’s going with that statement. I look at Tyler. He’s leaning forward, hands clasped, eyes piercing. Gee, he can be intense. “Okay,” I agree.

  “And answer all our questions, too,” she says.

  “I always do,” I smile at her, trying to make Hannah’s face be sweet.

  “Okay, then answer the one I asked before.” Rashanda waits a beat and then raises her eyebrows a bit more with each question, “Did you hear me whisper in your ear? While you were leaving the hospital? Maybe still in the parking lot?”

  If I answer no I’ll be lying to my best friend, but if I answer yes I risk embarrassment.

  I go with the truth: “Did you say ‘I hope you wake up today’?” She nods yes. “And ‘I really miss you and I’m praying for you’?” Another yes. “And ‘you can be Homecoming queen next year’?” Yes, again, and I hear Tyler breathe out a word. “You know, Rashanda, that’ll never happen—me being Homecoming queen. This is my only chance.”

  Tyler surprises me then with a statement longer than three words. “Not true. Besides, the Jessica I know wouldn’t take that pleasure away from Hannah. Look around. Do you think she has any happiness in her life? You, on the other hand, are always happy.”

  He makes a point I can’t argue with especially since I have a direct line to Hannah’s state of mind and she is, unquestionably, a very bitter person. I kind of like his assessment of me, but it makes me feel a little guilty and I don’t know how to respond except to escape.

  “Hold on. I want to show you both something. Stay here.” I say that without actually thinking, like the words come out before the picture materializes in my mind of what I want to show them. The impulse surprises me, but it’s a good impulse. I race up to my room. I mean, Hannah’s room.