First Impression (A Shadow Maven Paranormal)

by Pauline Creeden

  The breeze blows harder, and I release him to wrap my arms around myself. “Why do you wear brown contacts?”

  He frowns and his jaw tightens. The sharp angle of his jaw is set, and the dimple in his chin becomes more pronounced.

  For a moment, I’m sure I’ve gone too far. He’ll probably leave like he did at the hospital, when I asked about the monks.

  But instead, he leans over and puts his finger to his eye, he removes the contact lens and after holding his eye shut for a moment, he opens it.

  His black iris swirls with color, like a kaleidoscope. Greens, reds, and yellow intermingle and don’t stop moving, like water on top of a puddle of oil. My breath hitches and my knees grow weak. The wind takes a momentary pause as if the sky itself held its breath. His eyes search mine for a reaction, and I do my best to remain stoic, but instead my mouth betrays me. “It’s so pretty.”

  Ben blinks hard and takes a step back. His eyebrows are raised and his eyes are wide. Then he shakes his head and replaces his contact lens.

  My hair gets whipped into my face again by the wind and the moment is gone. I pull a strand from my mouth and sniffle again.

  “What are you really doing up here?” he asks.

  I shrug. “I don’t know. I just…I didn’t want to be alone.”

  His eyes narrow. “You said you came up here to be alone. You don’t make sense.”

  I swallow. It’s my turn to answer the tough question, so I suck it up and I do. “Without Tasha, I’m alone in this school. No one likes me. They all believe a lie about me that someone made up, but I did nothing but perpetuate. Stupidly. So I’m alone even when I’m surrounded by a crowd. But I guess…I guess I came up here, because maybe—I thought you might feel that way, too.”

  His eyes dart back and forth between both of mine, and his face is hard again. “I understand.”

  “So is it okay that I came here. I’m sorry if I—”

  “Yes, it’s okay. Steve and I were thinking it was too quiet up here anyway. We needed some annoying questions to break the monotony.”

  I shiver but smile. “Thanks.”

  He shrugs. “Any other stupid questions?”

  I try to bite down on my tongue to keep myself from asking, but the question comes out anyway. “So were you really raised by monks?”

  He runs a hand through his hair and looks away.

  “I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”

  “No, it’s okay.” He grabs me by the wrist and pulls me around to the other side of the door. “Let’s sit here, out of the wind.”

  I nod and sit with my back against the concrete wall. He sits down beside me, and suddenly I realize that we’d been nearly yelling that whole conversation over the wind. It’s so much quieter here.

  “My mother left me with an uncle on my dad’s side. Brother Francisco happens to be a monk in northern Portugal. But he didn’t live in a monastery. I was not quite a one-year-old at the time. I lived there with him until I was nine, when my mother…died. Her mother, my grandmother, had her lawyer search for me when I wasn’t found with my mom. Then I went to live with her. When she died three years ago, I’ve kind of floated around between my three uncles on my mom’s side. Uncle Matt is the youngest, and the last one to take me.”

  Only one word could make it past my constricted throat. “Why?”

  His eyes met mine again. A shade of ordinary brown hides a rainbow of color beneath.

  “I…am different.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”

  I shrug, but my eyes don’t leave his. My arms are wrapped around my knees, and I rest my head against them, offering him as confident a smile as I can manage. “I hear I’m easy to talk to.”

  He nods and changes his position so that he’s sitting like I am. “That’s an understatement. It’s like there’s something about you that’s familiar. That makes me want to open up and confess everything to you, because I know that I’ll feel better when I’m done, not worse…like I usually do.”

  His voice cracks and it makes me sad. I fight the urge to put an arm around him. He’s not Tasha. Suddenly, it occurs to me. “It’s about your eyes, isn’t it?”

  He stiffens, but nods. “Like most babies, I was born with blue eyes, and for a while, after they changed, I think my mother handled it. She was a free spirit, I’m told, and continued travelling with a gypsy band when she was pregnant with me. After I was born nothing changed. She was into witchcraft and occult practices since her teenage years. When my eyes changed, an elder gypsy declared I was demon possessed. He wanted to kill me. But instead of doing that, she gave me to Brother Francisco in the hopes that the religious environment would exorcise my demon and keep me safe.”

  “That’s…terrible.”

  He nods. “I learned a lot from Brother Francisco. He was training me to serve the church when he discovered that I could see.”

  I scrunch my forehead and sniffle. “What do you mean?”

  The owl on the top of the fence sashayed sideways toward us. Ben got a faraway look in his eyes, like he was seeing through the bird, and not at him. “I’m a Shadow Maven. I see the truth that most people can’t. Like impressions or demons. I can see them both.”

  “But I saw the ghost myself,” I breathe.

  He nods. “Emotional energy is what allows the impression to break through and play back. If there’s a group of people with high emotional energy, they might see an impression. If there’s one person with a heightened fear response, the impression will feed on that emotional energy as well.”

  “But you can see it regardless of the emotion?”

  He nods.

  “Did you…you know…actually have a demon?”

  His piercing gaze returns to me, and his eyes narrow. “No, I didn’t.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—” My stomach growls, interrupting me.

  Ben pushes off the wall and stands, offering me his hand. Although the flicker of anger is gone, his face is set in that hard, walled-up state again. “You skipped lunch again. Come on. Let’s get to the cafeteria before lunch block ends.”

  I take his warm hand and marvel at the rough texture. He pulls me gently to my feet and releases my grip. Suddenly I feel lightheaded, and my knees buckle. His arms are there again, catching me before I can fall. Pine and mint. I close my eyes and take a deep breath of him but my world is still spinning.

  His voice is hard. “When was the last time you’ve eaten?”

  I push off him and cross my arms over my chest. I’m tired of swooning into this guy’s arms. I’ve shown him far too much weakness in the last two days and try to put steel in my voice. “I’m fine.”

  He grabs me by the wrist again and starts for the door. “Come on, we’ve only got ten minutes left. Let’s go.”

  He’s not being too rough with me, so I let him drag me toward the stairwell. The door is hard to pull open, but he gets it with one sharp tug. He stays just ahead of me, checking back on occasion to make sure I’m right behind him. When we get to the cafeteria, there’s no line. He grabs a carton of chocolate milk and shoves it into my hand. “Drink this now.”

  “I haven’t paid for it yet.”

  “They won’t care. We’ll pay for it when we get to the register. It’s not like you’re going to hide the carton in your messenger bag, is it?”

  When I stand there, looking at him dumbly, he takes the carton from my hand and opens it with a quick gesture and puts it back in my grip.

  “There, now you didn’t open it. Better?”

  I shrug and take a sip while he watches. He nods, turns around and takes a tray, grabbing sandwiches and fruit at random, and in five seconds we’re at the register. I dig through my bag to pay, but he’s already got his wallet out and hands the cashier a ten.

  His fingers wrap around my wrist again, and he pulls me toward the nearest empty table. “Sit.”

  I do as he commands, even though I kind of want to rebel. But I’m just
too tired, and my stomach growls again. He puts the tray in front of me and sits across the table, grabbing half the food for himself.

  “You haven’t eaten yet either?”

  He shakes his head and snags a bite of egg salad sandwich. He speaks with his mouth full. “I was just visiting with Steve for a second before coming down to grab something. Then you showed up.”

  I nod.

  A group of younger girls pass our table and one of them coughs to hide her comment. “Lesbo.”

  My gaze draws upward to meet Ben’s, but he’s glaring at the girls behind me. That eases the discomfort caused by the words I choose to ignore when I’m on my own. I open a sandwich and take a bite even though my appetite is long gone.

  The first bell rings.

  Ben ignores it and continues eating his sandwich. So do I.

  “When you say that you see the truth, what does that mean? Does it mean you know when someone’s lying?” I ask.

  He finishes the bite he’s taken and takes a gulp of his milk. His gaze never leaves mine. With a nod, he says, “Yes. There’s a shadow on them when they lie.”

  “A shadow?”

  “Kind of like when you see the waves of heat coming off asphalt in the summer? That’s what I see, but it’s dark.”

  “Is that kind of like an aura?”

  His jaw tightens. “People think that they know so much. New age concepts aren’t really new age at all. They are old teachings that have been perverted into something they were never meant to be. I don’t see auras, I see shadows.”

  “Sorry.” I take another bite of my sandwich and avert my gaze from his glare.

  “It’s fine. But I usually don’t like talking about this stuff because most people think they know more about it than they do.”

  Still not looking at him, but studying my sandwich again before taking another bite, I ask, “How did you learn about it?”

  “Brother Francisco. He taught me that what I have is a gift, not a curse. Gifts come from God, not the devil. And he showed me how I could use this gift to help people. With talent comes responsibility.”

  “Shadow Maven.” I set my sandwich aside and look up.

  He nods and puts all of our trash on his tray. “We’ve got to hurry if we’re going to make it to the third floor before the second bell. We have less than two minutes.”

  AFTER SCHOOL, I HEAD STRAIGHT for the hospital. Mrs. Brown is there, her hair coming loose from her bun and her usually pressed clothing in disarray. She smiles when she sees me, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Chira, it’s good to see you.”

  I smile back. “Thanks, Mrs. Brown. Are Kevin and Mr. Brown here?”

  “No, sweetie. Mr. Brown is still at work, and Kevin will be staying with his grandmother until this is all worked out. He’ll come for a little visit each day, but he doesn’t need…to deal with…” She trails off.

  “I understand.” I eye her over. “How are you doing? Have you gotten anything to eat? Have you slept?”

  Her shoulders seem to hunch more, but her smile grows wider. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

  That word. I tsk at her. “No such thing as fine. Didn’t you say that answer is a dodge?”

  Mrs. Brown stiffens, and her eyes grow in shock.

  I shake my head. “I think you need some sort of rest. A nap, or at least a shower. I’m going to be here with Tasha for at least the next couple of hours. Why don’t you go home?”

  Her expression softens, and she stretches her back. Tears well in her eyes. “You’re a good friend to my Tasha, you know that? You always have been. I’ll take you up on that offer. Mr. Brown will be here in about two hours to relieve you, and that will give me enough time to do exactly as you say.”

  I nod and adjust the strap on my messenger bag. “Sounds good. I’ve got homework to do, and maybe I’ll do some of the required reading aloud. Don’t they say that people in comas hear what’s going on around them? Maybe it will help Tasha keep up with her schoolwork.”

  She laughs and gives me a hug. “Maybe it will.”

  When she releases me, she swipes a tear from her eye and heads for the elevator. I watch her go before I turn toward the Intensive Care Unit. The room is brighter than it was last night, and all the units have patients in them. I don’t know how the nurses stand it, but the incessant beeping of the monitors are not in alignment with one another. The sound reminds me of the cacophony of crickets I heard in the mountains the last time my father took me camping off Skyline Drive.

  The machine helping Tasha breathe overpowers most of the beeping once I enter her room. I take a seat in the chair next to her bed again and just watch her for a little while. So tiny.

  “Hey, girl. How are you doing today?” I ask.

  I watch her face for any change in expression, even though I don’t expect one.

  “Well, it was the usual for me today at school. Boring classes, no one really talking to me…well, except for Mrs. Blaylock. Can you believe she wants me to see the school shrink?”

  Tasha remains unchanged, but I continue. “And then there was Ben…”

  I tell Tasha everything that Ben said about being a Shadow Maven and what that meant. It seems much more unreal as I say it aloud to Tasha, and I can only imagine what her responses would be. But I’m talking just so that she hears my voice, knows I’m there, and also to catalog all that I’ve learned today.

  “Seems pretty out there, doesn’t it? But I wonder how true it all is. I guess there must be some truth to it since Matt had said something about the monks before Ben told me all he did today. But you know, I don’t want to be a gullible idiot and just accept things at face value.”

  “…especially with a cute boy,” the Tasha in my head says.

  I smile and sit back in my chair, just listening to the heart rate monitor. The steady but annoying beep at least reassures me that my friend is still alive. Still breathing. And for that, I am thankful.

  After an hour and half of reading every bit of our homework out loud, I’m parched. Luckily, the decongestant I’m on has kept me from dealing with my head cold on top of everything else. I wonder if the nurses would even let me in here if they knew I was fighting one.

  Just as I’m packing my books back into my messenger bag, Mr. Brown walks up. “Hey, Chira. Good to see you. Mrs. Brown is actually still asleep back home. I didn’t wake her. But I don’t want you to be walking home after dark, so I’ll drive you.”

  I blink hard. “It’s dark already?”

  “Well, not quite, but it’s going to be soon.”

  “Thank you for the offer, Mr. Brown, but I’m going over to the diner first and grab something to eat. It’s only two blocks, and it would be kind of silly for you to drive me such a short way.”

  Mr. Brown nods. “Then I’ll walk you.”

  I frown. “That’s not really necessary, I’m fine. Really. Besides, I don’t think Mrs. Brown wants us to leave Tasha alone for a minute. I could tell.”

  He nods and scratches his chin. His eyes are almost as tired looking as his wife’s were. “That’s true. She really doesn’t.”

  I sling the strap of my messenger bag over my head and smile my reassurance. “There ya go. No one wants to see Mrs. Brown upset. Stay here with Tasha and keep her company.”

  He nods, but his eyes convey concern.

  “I’ll be fine, really. I do walk everywhere in this city already. And don’t forget that both Tasha and I did make it to green belts in Tae kwon Do.”

  He frowns. “You both quit almost two years ago, so that really doesn’t make me feel better.”

  I shrug and reach into the pocket of my bag, pulling out a small pink spray can of pepper spray. “There’s always this.”

  He smiles. “That makes me feel a little better. It is only two blocks. But I want you to have your cell phone in one hand and that can of mace in the other.”

  I pull out my phone with my other hand and hold the two objects out for him with a wide grin. “Like this?”r />
  He laughs. “Yes, just like that.”

  I wrap my arms around him in a quick hug. If any man reminds me of my own father, it is Mr. Brown.

  “Take care,” he says, and I feel his eyes on me when I enter the elevator.

  Outside, grapefruit pink stretches across the midnight blue sky, the last remnants of the setting sun. I have already stuck my phone back in my bag, as it really isn’t that feasible to have both my hands full the way Mr. Brown wants. I decide to just palm the pepper spray.

  The street lights have already popped on and cars pass me in frequent intervals. But my mind drifts to the stark contrast between the pools of light and deepening shadows.

  Possession.

  The word rings through my brain and makes me shiver. From what Ben said, we didn’t have to worry about that kind of haunting, right? Didn’t he say this was an impression? But what if he is wrong?

  A change in the shadow to my left catches my eye. I turn my head but nothing looks strange or unusual. My heartbeat quickens, and I increase my pace. From the corner of my eye, I swear that I still see shadows moving in a manner that they shouldn’t. My fingers grip around the canister in my hand, but what good would pepper spray do against a ghost…demon…whatever?

  My mouth is drier than a desert. Somehow I don’t think that a scream could even make it past my parched throat if I needed it. The shadows to my left change again in the corner of my eye, but when I look head on, they’re normal again. Run, my mind screams, but the logical part of me looks over at the cars and says that there’s nothing wrong. Someone else would notice if there was something wrong, right?

  The scuff of a shoe on the concrete behind me causes me to whip around, a finger ready to depress the pepper spray’s contents.

  “Whoa, Sniffles. It’s just me.” Ben stands ten feet away with his hands up in a defensive position.

  My heartbeat relaxes, but just a little. I don’t lower the spray can, but I’m glad I didn’t spray before looking. “What are you doing? Are you following me?”

  He runs a hand through his thick waves and puts the other in his trouser pocket. “I was walking this way and saw you so I decided to catch up. You shouldn’t be out here alone, you know?”