by S. A. Hunter
“Nah, she probably shot him with a tranquilizer gun and drove him to the movie theater, and he came to as the credits rolled.”
“Even more likely. So see, not as bad as you think.”
“I don’t know. He’s obviously worried about her, which means he cares, which means he likes her, which means they’re totally a couple. Right this moment, he’s probably hanging out by Vicky’s bedside like Prince Charming hovering over Sleeping Beauty, and I’m the evil fairy trying to train some flying monkeys to whisk him away.”
“Wasn’t the Sleeping Beauty villainess named Maleficent? And she didn’t have flying monkeys. That was the Wicked Witch of the West.”
“I’m sure the Wicked Witch of the West would’ve loaned her some flying monkeys. They were probably pals, trading potions and stuff.”
“So I’m the Wicked Witch of the West?”
“No, I always imagined you more as a Mad Madam Mim.”
Rachel stared at her for a few blinks. “You’ve thought about this?”
“The villains are more interesting.”
“Let’s focus on something else.”
“What?”
“Well, I’m gonna flunk biology and be disowned by my father.”
“I told you taking that AP class was going to be tough. You should’ve stuck with CP like me.”
Rachel fell back onto the grass. “I know, but Dad was going on and on about how I have to take some advanced placement courses, and I wasn’t about to try AP History or AP English.”
“And you wanted to dissect stuff.”
“Dissecting stuff is cool. I need to take these classes if I’m going to be a coroner.”
Mary shivered. Rachel had recently decided her life's goal was to be a coroner, and it freaked Mary out. She dealt with ghosts, so she knew a good bit about death, but she didn’t want to know the science of it. She didn’t want to face the physical evidence. The spiritual evidence was enough for her.
“If you need help studying, I can quiz you. I may be only in lowly college prep, but I do know how to read.”
Rachel lifted her head and grinned. “Thanks. Maybe we could get together Wednesday. I have a test on Thursday, and I have to ace it to start getting my grade up.”
Mary nodded. Helping Rachel would keep her from obsessing over Cy.
“So Kyle told you about Cy and Vicky?”
She was surprised that Rachel was going back to that topic. “Yeah, he found me during TAB. He was upset, too that Cy hadn’t told me about the accident.”
“That was nice of him.”
“Yeah, it was better hearing it from him than overhearing it in the hallway or something.”
“He’s been pretty nice to you since Ricky.” Ricky was the nasty ghost that had possessed Kyle and made him try to kill her. After all that, she’d figured he’d avoid her like the plague or maybe pick on her more, but instead, he said hi to her in the hallways and openly talked to her. It surprised her because she could count on one hand the number of people who were nice to her.
“Yeah, he’s still grateful that I helped him. I figure it’ll die down in a while.”
“I don’t know. He doesn’t seem so much grateful as interested in you.”
Mary looked at her in confusion. “He’s just being nice. Sure, he was a complete meathead to me when I first met him, but he’s mellowed since then.”
Rachel didn’t reply. Mary shrugged it off and finished eating her lunch.
“Wasn’t Mad Madam Mim like kind of dumpy and crazy?”
“She could make herself look however she wanted. She chose to look dumpy, but she was definitely crazy.”
“Huh.”
“It’s how I picture you at seventy.”
“You know, I sometimes can’t wait to be old. Old people get away with the best stuff.”
“I know, just look at Gran.”
* * *
Mary worked on her homework in the living room. She was also tossing a red squeaky ball across the room. It would float back to her, and she’d toss it again. It was either toss the ball or have Chowder, their little ghost dog, whining at her feet. His body currently sat on top of the television. It was his anchor. Ghosts needed physical objects to tie them to the earth. Anchors could be anything. Ricky’s had been a locket. Becca, a little girl ghost who’d terrorized Mary when she was six, had anchored to a doll. But Chowder’s anchor couldn’t have been more obvious. He was a ghost, but he still had his body. He just couldn’t move it, which was good. Having a zombie dog would be even worse than a phantom one.
Gran was finishing up with a new client. Mary had placed an order for a large pizza to be delivered. It should arrive any minute. She was still bummed about the Vicky/Cy thing, but it was slowly sinking away.
She heard a car start up behind the house, and a few moments later, Gran came through the beaded curtains. Mary closed her textbook and put down her pencil. “How’d the session go?”
Gran smoothed back her grey hair and took a seat. “Mrs. Beadley is having some trouble with her dead husband.”
“What sort of trouble?”
“Dating mainly. He doesn’t like the fact that his widow is getting back into the game. If she brings a man over, he makes the lights flicker or the radio come on to frighten away her date. She’s at her wit’s end.” The red ball dropped at Gran’s feet. She tossed it across the room.
“He hasn’t tried to hurt her, has he?”
“Oh no, nothing like that. She seems positive he’d never escalate that far. She remembers him quite fondly, but he’s annoying her a great deal now. She thinks it’s time for him to move on, like she’s trying to do.” The ball floated back to her, and she picked it up again.
“Any ideas about how to deal with him?”
“I think I’ll have to go to their home. She doesn’t have any idea what he could be anchored to.”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
Gran sighed and looked down at the squeaky ball in her hands. “I shouldn’t ask, but I think your presence could help.”
“It’s no problem. If he’s as harmless as you say, it’ll be fine.”
The doorbell rang, and Gran got up to get the pizza. She tossed the squeaky ball to Mary. Chowder barked.
Mary pretended not to hear him while the door was open. Once the door was closed, she threw the ball as far as she could to get rid of Chowder for a bit.
“Did anything happen at school today?” Gran asked as she gave her a pizza slice on a paper plate.
She eagerly took a bite of her pizza, nodding her head while she chewed. “Cy and Vicky Nelson were in a car accident over the weekend. Cy broke his collarbone and dislocated a shoulder. Vicky’s in a coma. They don’t know when she’ll wake up.”
Gran froze with her pizza halfway to her mouth. “Mary, that’s awful! Are you going to visit the poor girl?”
It was Mary’s turn to freeze. “I don’t really know her.”
“But she's a friend of Cy’s. Surely, you’ve met. I bet Cy would appreciate it if you visited.”
She didn’t know what to say. “Her family probably doesn’t want too many people crowding in right now.”
Gran frowned slightly. “You might be right. Well, you could send a card, at least.”
Mary didn’t think Hallmark made a card that would cover how she felt about Vicky: ‘Sorry you were in an accident and put in a coma. Stay away from the boy I like.’ It didn’t even rhyme.
“I promised Rachel that I’d help her study for a biology test this Wednesday,” she said, in an attempt to get away from the subject of Vicky and Cy.
“Oh, that’s nice. Will you two be studying here?”
She shrugged. “Don’t know. We haven’t planned it yet. Don’t worry. We can look after ourselves.”
“But I like looking after you, and Rachel’s a sweet girl. Unusual, but sweet.”
Mary smirked at that. The first time they’d met, Gran had a little trouble not staring at Rachel’s hair. It’d b
een Astroturf green at the time. Once she’d gotten over the hair, she’d stared at the piercings. Rachel had told her that she’d look good with a nose ring. Gran had wondered how she’d blow her nose. Rachel’s answer of ‘Very carefully’ had made her chuckle. They’d gotten along famously ever since.
“Well, I’m going to go curl up with my book. Do you need anything else before I go to bed?”
Mary shook her head. Gran cleared away the leftover pizza, and Mary pulled out her homework again. Chowder followed Gran to bed, and Mary had the living room to herself. She put the television on for company and worked for the rest of the evening.
* * *
“You didn’t come by. I know you have no social life, so don’t even try giving me an excuse.”
Mary turned around and groaned. Once again, there were no exits, only a hospital bed and one annoying, non-comatose cheerleader. She said the thing that had been plaguing her all day. “You were on a date with Cy.”
“Oh, you’re still into him?”
Mary turned away so she wouldn’t launch herself at the other girl. “Is this real or just a nightmare?”
“It’s real. Very real. Look, I don’t think this thing is just affecting me. I think it’s going after other people, too.”
Mary turned back to face her. “How do you know that?” Vicky looked up at the ceiling as if trying to see the answer to her question.
“I can just sort of feel it out prowling around. I can feel it clawing at other people.”
“Do you know anything else about it? Does it talk? Can you see it?”
Vicky shook her head. “I can only feel it. Please come to the hospital. I’m afraid it’s gonna kill me.”
Mary stared at the other girl. Vicky was serious.
“I’ll come by.”
“Are you going to bring that friend of yours? You better not let her mess with me.”
“You’re in a coma. What do you care?”
“I care. No drawn-on mustaches.”
“What about a soul patch?”
“No!”
The dream snapped off at that, and Mary rolled over into normal sleep.
Chapter 2
Family Gatherings
The next day at school was boring. Cy was absent again, and everyone assumed he was still with Vicky. Mary saw Kyle in the hall once, and he looked like he wanted to talk. She’d ducked into the girl’s restroom to avoid him and waited until the bell rang to emerge. It was cowardly, and Kyle probably thought she was a complete nut case, but she didn’t want another Cy update. At least not from him. She’d wait and get it directly from Cy.
She knew she needed to get to work helping Vicky, but it was going to be tricky. If she told Rachel that she wanted to visit the cheerleader, she would insist Mary was sick and in need of medical attention herself. Then she’d have to explain the dreams, and she had no idea how to explain them. She still wasn’t sure if they were real. She’d never had dreams like this before. Trying to think up another reason to go to the hospital was tough. She finally settled on lying and claiming to be interested in volunteering, and why not visit Rachel’s mom to find out more? Rachel drove her to the hospital after school, but she was still skeptical.
“I thought hospitals gave you the creeps.”
“Yeah, but I should learn to conquer my fears.”
“You call them Hotels of Death.”
“Are we going to see your mom or not?”
Rachel led the way through the lobby. Mary’s eyes darted around. Hospitals did creep her out. So many people dying in one place meant hauntings were prevalent and plentiful.
Mary followed Rachel onto the elevator.
“What floor, please?”
“Rach, what floor?”
“I pushed three. Why?”
Mary jumped and scowled. She and Rachel were alone in the elevator. She’d seen it was empty when she’d gotten on, but still, she’d reacted to the ghost like he was there. She hated when that happened.
The doors opened, and Rachel led the way to the nurse’s station. A middle-aged woman in pink scrubs looked up at them, and her round face broke into a happy smile. Rachel walked around the desk and gave her mother a hug.
“What a pleasant surprise! What are you two girls doing here?”
Mary wandered behind the nurse’s station and got pulled into a hug, too. She felt even guiltier telling her lie with her arms around Mrs. Pillar. “I was thinking about volunteering, but didn’t know what I should do. Do you know anything about that?”
Mrs. Pillar squeezed her tighter before letting her go. “That’s a wonderful idea! There are all sorts of programs: the candy stripers, baby massage, the gift shop. You have to get an application from the volunteer office. It’s on the fifth floor. Just follow the signs when you get off the elevator.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Pillar.”
“Oh, and if you want to stop by and see Vicky Nelson, she’s on the second floor in room 204. I’m sure her parents would like to see kids from school.”
“Mom, we aren’t exactly friends with Vicky.”
“Well, are you going to fill out an application, too?”
Rachel’s eyes shot to Mary. This was an unexpected development. “I’ll pick up an application and think about it,” she said.
“It’ll look good on your college applications,” Mrs. Pillar suggested.
Rachel huffed a sigh. “Thanks Mom. We gotta go. See you at home.”
“Tell your father that I’m bringing dinner home at 7 p.m. So no snacking. I’ll know. Tell him that.”
Rachel began backing away, tugging Mary with her. “Sure, Mom.”
“And it’d be nice if you could do a load of darks for me. I’ll fold them later tonight.”
Rachel stabbed the elevator call button. “Sure, Mom.”
“It was nice to see you girls. I hope your grandmother’s well, Mary.” Rachel dragged Mary into the elevator and pressed five.
“Very well, Mrs. Pillar. Thanks for the info.” The elevator doors began to close.
“My pleasure. And Rachel, could you pickup—”
“Sorry, Mom, what?” Rachel said as she mashed the door close button.
When the doors had shut, Rachel slumped against the elevator wall. “I didn’t think we’d ever get out of there.”
Mary smirked. “Your mom’s really nice.”
She glared at her. “Sure, you can say that. She doesn’t give you chores.”
The elevator doors opened, and the girls exited. They followed the signs to the volunteer program office, where they each picked up an application. Rachel held hers like it was infected. Mary folded hers and put it in her pocket. She didn’t even bother to read it. The volunteer coordinator had been very bubbly and eager to get the girls signed up, but Mary told her that she wasn’t sure what she wanted to do and would have to talk it over with her grandmother. They got out of the office relatively unscathed.
When they got back into the elevator, Rachel pressed L.
“What floor, please?”
“Two,” Mary whispered.
The number two button lit up.
The elevator went down. “So, what do you think you want to do?” Rachel asked as she peered at the application. It would’ve been easier to read if she hadn’t been holding it at arm’s length.
“I don’t know,” Mary said. The elevator doors opened, and she strode off. Rachel followed and stopped.
“Wait, this isn’t the lobby.” She turned to get back on the elevator, but the doors had closed.
“Isn’t this Vicky’s floor?” Mary said, knowing full well that it was. She started down the corridor.
“Mary, are you serious? We should go.”
“Since we’re here, we might as well peek in.”
Rachel snagged her arm and turned her around. “Seriously? Don’t you think that’s kind of, I don’t know, morbid?”
She brushed off Rachel’s hand. “We don’t have to go in. I just want to get a glimpse.”
&nb
sp; Rachel’s mouth thinned. Mary began down the corridor again. She glanced into the patient rooms as she passed. It was pretty deserted. There were a couple of bored nurses at the nurse’s station. The girls nodded as they walked past, but the nurses barely gave them a glance. Mary saw 204 ahead. She lengthened her stride.
The door was open. She cautiously looked in and saw the room was empty except for Vicky. She stepped into the room. “Mary?” Rachel said. She didn’t sound happy.
Mary went to Vicky’s side. She needed to know if her dreams were real. Vicky looked just like she had in Mary’s dream. There was a bandage around her head with a lump of gauze positioned over her left eye. She hadn’t made that up. The only thing different was that Vicky’s eyes were closed, and she was lying down. Mary reached out and touched Vicky’s hand. She half expected the cheerleader’s eyes to pop open and for her to start berating Mary for taking so long, but there was no reaction to her touch. Vicky’s hand was warm, but so still. The machines beeped softly, and the IV dripped. This whole scene didn’t seem like Vicky at all. Where was the loud-mouthed, brash girl who made Mary’s life miserable? Rachel had crept up beside her and looked down at the comatose girl.
“We shouldn’t be here,” Rachel whispered.
“I’m just trying to figure something out,” Mary whispered back.
“Hello?”
Mary jerked her hand off Vicky’s arm and turned around. She’d felt guilty lying to Mrs. Pillar, now she felt like the lowest criminal looking at the woman in the doorway. She had on a light blue, velour zip-up hoody with matching pants. Her hair was up in a bun, but it had started to come undone a bit. There were dark circles underneath her eyes, and no makeup had been used to try and conceal it. The auburn color of her hair sealed the deal. She was Vicky’s mother.
“Hi, sorry. We didn’t mean to disturb. We just wanted to see how Vicky was doing.”
Rachel turned shocked eyes to Mary.
Mrs. Nelson went over to a chair by the bed. She sank down and picked up one of Vicky’s lax hands. “No, it’s nice that you stopped by. All friends of Vicky’s are welcome. It’s good for her to be surrounded by people who care about her. The doctors say she can hear us, so she knows you’re here, and it’ll help her get better.”