What if ghosts were truly riding them? What if invisible giants were pushing them? How much of the world was real? How much was fake?
I made myself stop thinking about it. To keep myself from going crazy. To help keep my fear under control.
Something stirred in the garden of an old run-down trailer. I froze. My heart leapt into my throat. A black cat with white paws came running out across the front yard.
I thought about Kai’s aunt: the cat with the red arrow shape on its head.
What was real and what wasn’t as it seemed?
Finally, we reached the front door of my trailer. The lights were on inside.
Kai placed her hand on my arm. Before we went inside, she said, “Remember, your mom is healed. She’ll be different now.”
I felt annoyed. She clearly did not know my mom, but I didn’t want to argue with her. This had to be one of the worst days of Kai’s life, seeing her mother killed at her aunt’s funeral.
I turned my key in the lock and stepped inside. It smelled amazing. The entire trailer had been cleaned. The carpet still had lines in it from being vacuumed. Something had been baked in the oven. A few seconds later, I realized it was the homemade banana bread sitting on the counter.
My mom had set up her easel in the kitchen and was painting a picture of a flying saucer hovering above the desert.
I said, “Oh, no, not you, too?”
My mom looked up. She said, “Hi, there! What do you mean: not you, too?”
I pointed at her painting. “The flying saucer. Everything around here is UFOs and green aliens.”
My mom laughed. “That’s why I’m doing it, actually. I went into Roswell today. Everything’s flying saucers and aliens, even the streetlamps. I think I caught alien fever.”
I wanted to make a joke about aliens from outer space infecting the entire human race with a fever that makes everyone artists, but I knew how upset Kai was. I said, “Kai’s had a rough day, mom. Her mother was actually killed at her aunt’s funeral.”
My mother’s hand started shaking. She put down her paintbrush. Her eyes were wide with horror. She said, “There was a murder at the funeral? What happened? Are you OK?”
Kai shook her head yes.
I said, “Physically, we’re fine. Emotionally, not so much. I have a huge favor to ask. Kai’s mom had a boyfriend who was violent at times. I don’t think Kai should be home by herself. There’s a good chance he’ll come back. Can she stay with us?”
My mom agreed to it immediately. She said Kai could live with us for as long as she wanted.
I breathed such a sigh of relief. I’m sure Kai did, too.
We decided to head on over to her place, so she could pack up a few things. My mom told us to hurry, not to stay over there too long.
Walking through Kai’s kitchen, I had the sensation of cool air flowing around me, as though ghosts had passed by. I remembered the wolf lying on the kitchen floor bleeding, used bullets nearby, Kai sobbing and healing the shapeshifted animal. Her mom.
As I followed Kai, I realized I’d never seen her room before. It was actually kinda cool. Better than mine. Kai had added a lot of awesome personal touches.
The walls had been painted black. They were covered with glow-in-the-dark stars. I imagined myself as an astronaut, up past Earth’s atmosphere, lost among the stars. Her bed had a quilt made with tree designs—lots of flowing branches, intricate patterns of green leaves and tiny purple flowers.
Directly across from her bed, a desk had been put together by placing a wooden board on top of stacked cinder blocks. The board had been stained walnut; the cinder blocks had been painted blue.
On the wall over her desk, there were framed photographs of both people and animals. In one photo, there was a black cat with a red arrow on its head. Kai’s aunt! I asked Kai, “Are those all shapeshifters?”
Kai said, “Yeah. Well, except for this one.” She pointed to a fluffy calico cat. “That was my cat, Mosaic.”
I wondered if things ever got confusing for Mosaic with so many shifted animals around. I wanted to ask, but thought it might be rude.
Becoming aware of the sound of bubbles, I searched the room. On a table over in the corner, a filter burbled away, cleaning the water in a small tank. Inside, a purple beta fish had spread its purple and red fins to sail majestically through its liquid world. I couldn’t help myself. I blurted out the question on the tip of my tongue: “Is that a real fish?”
Kai looked at me as though I’d lost my marbles. She raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know there were fake ones.”
I said, “You know ... not a shapeshifter one. Is that a person in there ... or a fish?”
Kai laughed. “It’s just a fish. I’m surprised you can’t tell the difference.”
I guess she could. Weird. I could sense the presence of ghosts, but had absolutely no receptor for identifying shapeshifters masquerading as animals.
Kai said, “That’s Starfire.”
I bent down and peered into the fish tank. As the beta traveled through the water, it repeatedly spread its fins like a Chinese woman opening a painted fan. I looked for a star pattern. I figured she had one. Maybe Kai had picked out this one because it had a star on it, like her mom when she shifted.
I couldn’t find the shape. I said, “Why Starfire, Kai? I don’t see any star.”
She laughed again. “Starfire! The superhero in Teen Titans. She wore purple.”
There was so much I didn’t know. I said, “I’ve never seen Teen Titans.”
Kai had been throwing clothes into a suitcase. She stopped and studied me. Laughing, she said, “You poor, deprived child. I know something we can do that would cheer me up and educate you at the same time. We’ll watch Teen Titans over at your house.” Going back to packing, she added, “I named that fish all wrong, though. Turns out Starfire the Fish is a boy. I couldn’t tell when he was little. His fins didn’t get full until he was older. I should have named him Beast Boy ... or Batman. Oh, well. He’s pretty, isn’t he?”
I said, “Yeah, he is. Can we take him with us? I’ve never had a fish. And you could keep an eye on him.”
Kai agreed. The tank was such a small one, it wasn’t hard to carry.
We went back to my place lugging a fish tank, a suitcase and a pile of books.
When we walked in the door, my mom had started painting a green alien waving to the flying saucer. I said, “Oh, man, you’ve got the fever all right.”
My mom smiled. She asked if we’d like some banana bread.
Of course we did.
As we sat around the kitchen table, eating banana bread and drinking glasses of cold milk, she asked about what had happened at the funeral.
Kai and I looked at each other. I looked intently into Kai’s eyes, trying to beam the message: Don’t say anything about shapeshifters or skinwalkers or faeries or witches. My mom would just think she’s crazy.
Kai had good instincts. She was an empath, after all. She just said, “We have some violent members in our family. One of them went berserk and killed my mother.”
My mom asked, “It wasn’t your mother’s boyfriend, was it?”
Kai seemed surprised by the question. She said, “Oh, no. He wasn’t at the funeral.” When she recovered, she said, “That’s a good question, though. Some people in my family—my mother included—have been romantically involved with violent individuals. I don’t know who killed my mom, but it wasn’t her boyfriend. Someone else with a violent temper showed up and got angry over something, and my mom was an innocent victim.”
She started crying.
My mom reached out her hand and grasped Kai’s. She said, “I’m sorry. It will take time. I’ve been through this sort of thing in my life. You’ll be OK. You’ll see. In the meantime, Shade and I are here for you. Just tell us if you need anything at all.”
Kai wiped the tears from her face. My mother’s words seemed to calm her down. She said, “Thank you. I really appreciate that.”
My mom’s face took on a serious expression. She asked, “Have the police been notified?”
Kai shook her head yes. She said, “The authorities were contacted. An investigation’s underway.” She took a few sips of milk, then said she was tired.
Back in my room, I asked Kai what she wanted to do. I told her I was there for her; we could do whatever she wanted. I thought I’d feel awkward talking to her about the loss of her mother and the horrifying way in which she had died, but it came more easily than I had expected. My devastating personal losses over the years—of my mother’s presence, of father figures, of best friends and stability—must have created a void inside me that helped me understand Kai and know what to say to her.
Kai said, “I’d be happy if we watched Teen Titans. It was such a big part of my childhood ... I’d like that.” Then she asked, “Where should I put my stuff?”
I told her anywhere; it didn’t matter.
As we watched Teen Titans, Starfire swam around in the tank, flapping his fins like a bat in flight.
CHAPTER 14
My room was pitiful. Kai and I had to share the same mattress. I didn’t even own a sleeping bag.
I tried to give her space. I rolled over and flattened myself against the wall. I was so tired, at least I fell asleep quickly.
The next morning, my alarm went off at 7:00. I debated about staying home from school, but I had promised Kai she’d have some personal space when I left.
I dragged myself off to the bathroom to shower. As the warm water cascaded down on my head and I lathered my hair with shampoo, I felt there would never be enough soap and water in the entire world to wash away all the terrifying memories of the day before.
I got dressed in the bathroom, then snuck into my bedroom and grabbed a jacket. Kai never budged.
Lunch felt strange. Everyone was talking excitedly about the success of our newspaper publication. I had so much on my mind that I couldn’t share with anyone at school, the laughter and happiness felt jarring. I just didn’t feel like doing happiness.
When the subject finally turned to somber topics, I felt more at home. Wolf Song brought up the topic of the forum. He said, “We’re getting a lot of traffic on the forum.” He turned to me. “Shade, there are some pretty serious topics being discussed over there. Seems like the same situation you described at your old school. Kids get comfortable talking online, especially when they have the option to use a fake username. I think we need to talk to a couple of kids over there, encourage them to see the school psychologist.”
I finished chewing the bite I’d just taken out of my sandwich, then asked what kinds of problems.
He said, “Someone was threatening suicide last night. Violet and I ended up talking him out of it. He said he’d been seeing a shrink, but stopped. He promised to go back and then check in on the forum at least once a day.”
Violet added, “Yeah. He felt suicidal after his girlfriend broke up with him. He said his dad told him she was too good for him anyway; he’s a 4 and she’s a 10, and he ought to aim no higher than a 5.”
Moonjava said, “Ouch.”
Starshine said, “That’s so cruel.”
I said, “At our old school, those of us who were running the forum started working together with the school psychologist. She was really helpful. We went to her when we were in over our heads and felt like kids might end up getting hurt if we didn’t handle things right. She reached out to students in a friendly way, so they didn’t feel threatened or like we had betrayed them. One time we talked a suicidal student into making an appointment with her and things turned out so well, we actually got a letter of congratulations from the School Board. How’s your psychologist here?”
Moonjava said, “Not so good. This is a poor county. We have one psychologist who travels around to a whole bunch of schools. He’s not here very often. He...”
Violet Skye interrupted. “Yeah, but remember he did meet with that girl who was cutting her wrists and she got better.”
That comment sent me down a rabbit hole of guilt and traumatic memories. Cutting had been my go-to place not that long ago, the only place I’d ever felt peace. Back when I couldn’t cry and was frozen into myself.
Starshine said, “Shade, why don’t you contact the school psychologist? Sounds like you’ve done that before, so maybe he’ll listen to you.”
I said, “Sure.” Weird. Now I was the person most likely to succeed with getting a psychologist to help someone? Not exactly what I would have pictured next to my yearbook photo.
Moonjava said, “We probably ought to call a meeting after school again, to work on the forum and start getting another newspaper article together.”
I thought about Kai. I couldn’t skip out on her. I told Moonjava the earliest I could do that was the following day.
Moonjava said he’d contact our tech team, which is how we’d started referring to the gamers and a couple of other Newspaper Club members who knew their way around computers.
Violet said, “Why don’t we get together next Friday after school? That gives us a week.”
That sounded like a great idea.
When I got home from school, my mom wasn’t there. She’d left a note on the kitchen counter, though. It said: Shade – Gone to the art store in Roswell to get more oil paints. I made blueberry muffins. Enjoy! Love, Mom. She had started acting like a mom. It felt strange.
I found Kai sitting cross-legged on my bed. She was holding the silver chain of my amulet, swinging it back and forth like a priest does with incense. The gem pulsed with blue light.
Was Brandon talking to her? An incredible wave of jealousy rose up and washed over me, threatening to drown me with its power.
Irrational, I walked over and grabbed the necklace out of her hand.
“Ow! Ow! Ow!” I had stupidly grabbed it by the amulet, which was too hot to touch. I jumped up and down, waving my hand in the air. I soon realized the pain wasn’t going to stop, so I went dashing off to the bathroom to run my hand under cold water. As I dried my hands and put first aid cream on the burned area, I found myself repeating the loser’s mantra: What an idiot! What an idiot! What an idiot!
I went back to my room, embarrassed. I said, “Sorry I grabbed that. It’s connected to Brandon, though. In the afterlife. I don’t like anyone messing with it.”
Kai seemed unfazed. She replied, “I wasn’t messing with it. The closet door was open and I saw a blue light blinking. I figured it was something electronic, and thought I’d turn it off before the battery went dead. When I fished it out of your pocket, I realized it was the amulet you’d told me about. I was just holding onto it.”
And now it was on the floor. Where I’d dropped it.
I placed my finger on the chain. That part had never gotten hot before, but I wasn’t taking any chances. My hand was throbbing.
Cool to the touch! I grabbed the chain with my fingers and laid the necklace faceup on my quilt. Immediately, I saw words in black lettering scrolling across the top. They said: We’re there for you if you really need us. I’m sure you have the strength to do what needs to be done, though. – Brandon’s Grandmother.
Although I was glad to hear from Brandon’s grandmother, I felt disappointed it wasn’t him.
I was about to speak into the amulet, but realized it might look odd to Kai, even though I’d already explained to her how it worked. I said, “Remember when you asked me why I believed in ghosts and I told you because I’d had contact with them and Brandon actually gave me an amulet to communicate with him? Well, now you get to see it in action.”
Again, Kai seemed unfazed. She said, “Makes sense to me. Kind of like a walkie-talkie for communicating with souls in the afterlife. Some of my Navajo relatives don’t like to talk about that kind of thing. They want the dead to stay in the afterlife, so they won’t ever come back and harm us. Me, I’ve seen so much pain caused by living people, I’m not too worried about dead people coming back. I figure the good ones will come back, too,
and maybe help me with some of the living ones causing me so much pain. Shade, can you ask Brandon’s grandmother about my mom and aunt?”
I said, “Sure.” I spoke into the amulet: “Thank you so much. We’re having all kinds of problems here. Have you happened to see a group of people who lived near Roswell, New Mexico and died yesterday? A friend of mine is looking for her mom and aunt.”
Words scrolled across the amulet:
Please tell your friend I’m sorry for her loss. The afterlife doesn’t work like that. We don’t see everybody who dies. It would be like asking someone in Roswell if they knew someone in Japan just because they’re on the same planet. Spirits here might know each other, but there’s no particular reason why they would if they didn’t know each other in life. I’m not aware of anyone who died anywhere near Roswell.
Kai started to cry. She said, “I shouldn’t have hoped that was possible.”
I didn’t know what to say. I wished Kai’s relatives had left an amulet behind. Which gave me an idea. “Kai, maybe someday your mom or your aunt will visit you. You never know. Brandon was there in my attic all along. Then, all of a sudden, the amulet lit up and he appeared.”
Kai wiped her tears away. She said, “Yeah. That would be nice.” She stared at the necklace for a bit, then said, “Shade?”
I hoped if she had an idea, it wasn’t too outrageous. Hesitantly, I said, “Yes...”
She said, “You’re a ghost whisperer. Both my mom and my aunt died sudden, violent deaths. They weren’t ready to cross over into the afterlife. Would you go out with me to the place where my mother’s funeral was held and maybe spend some time back at my house with me, just to see if you sense their presence?”
That was a brilliant idea and something I could do. I told her that would be fine.
Kai said, “When I’m ready. I’m not ready yet. It’s too soon. I’d really rather never go back to the scene of the funeral.”
I tried to think of what I could do to help Kai fill her time with something meaningful. Anything to keep her from dwelling on all the horror she’d experienced. While I was away at school, she had nothing but time on her hands.
Shade and the Skinwalkers Page 18