Ether

by Dana Michelle Belle

The hallway is emptying rapidly. In a minute more we’ll be alone out here. We’ll be alone and Inteus is so close that I can’t let this opportunity pass. I take a deep breath and lunged for him. If I can drive him out of Matt’s body, I can save Matt and myself in one blow.

  Inteus steps aside and I fly passed him, smashing into the wall as he dances effortlessly out of my path. He turns and wags a finger at me. “Naughty, naughty, trying to dispel me from yet another body, and I thought we were getting along so well.”

  “You can’t have him,” I yell defiantly.

  He smirks again at me. “I can have anyone I want. But I’m reasonable. Who would you prefer me to take? That blond puppy dog of yours, I might enjoy some of the fringe benefits. Maybe the jabbering BFF, imagine the fun we’d have braiding each other’s hair?” I barely hear his taunts. I watch him, inching one way, than another looking for an opportunity to grab him. I can feel energy surging through my body. All I need is one clear shot at him. I hear the rhythmic clicking of teacher heels on the flooring. We are about to be interrupted. I tense, ready to hurl myself at him again, if I have the chance.

  He moves deftly away from me. “Oh well. I’ll make do with tall dark and handsome here. See you around.”

  I’m still standing, shaking with helpless rage when the heels click over toward me. The teacher shoos me toward my class without much interest or energy. My feet move mechanically in response to her urging but my brain is swirling. They have Matt. They have him.

  When I slide into my seat I’m prepared for a barrage of whispered questions but Mandy is oddly silent. I steal a long look at her while Mrs. MacTab hands out an assignment sheet. She is very pale and beads of sweat have collected on her skin, giving it a sickly sheen. More to the point, she isn’t wearing any makeup. Her eyes are completely unpainted, her lips a pale shade of pink I haven’t seen since sixth grade. “You ok?” I whisper to her.

  She nods vaguely but when Mrs. MacTab moves to the other side of the room she leans over to me, “I’m feeling kind of, off. I think I’m coming down with something.”

  A month ago, I would have believed her, but now, I can’t take that chance. Maybe Mandy is sick, or maybe the Numina are trying to take over all of my friends. Inteus certainly knows who they are. I think of Ephraim, pulling a tendril of the ethereal power up into my arms. I felt the little electric buzz along my skin as the power collects near the surface of my palms. I still don’t know if I’m channelling some of Ephraim’s power, or tapping some deep part of myself, but I’m starting to understand how this works. Ephraim said the Ethereals and the Numina repelled each other. They couldn’t touch or interact in any way, because their energies cancelled each other out. But I’m not an Ethereal and I can’t be driven from my body by their touch because I belonged in it. I was born here. But the ethereal energy in my body means that I could hurt them, break up their hold or even rip them out and hurl them away.

  Of course, the middle of English class isn’t the right place for an exorcism. So I pushed a small tendril of power out as I reach for her hand, just enough to find something out. I gave Mandy’s hand a little squeeze. She jerks bolt upright in her seat and snatched her hand away. Mandy rubs her hand tenderly, massaging the spot I touched. I touch my hand; it’s all tingles, like I’ve been sitting on it until it fell asleep. It’s a new sensation. I expected either the smooth warmth of her hand or the otherness of the Numina but this is something else. Is she possessed or not?

  For the rest of the class, I only pretend to do the work while I covertly watched Mandy. Over the course of the hour a little more colour comes back into her cheeks and the fevered look leaves her eyes. She stops rubbing her hand but a small puckered mark had risen on it that looks like she’d been scalded.

  At the end of first period the P.A. system crackles to life, requesting that all the students assemble in the auditorium. Mandy rolls her eyes and groans with the rest of us at the prospect of another assembly. By the time we’re in the hallway she’s starting to chatter at about half her normal rate of speed. Suddenly she puts a hand to her face, “Ug. Becka, I totally spaced this morning. I didn’t even put on make-up. Save me a seat will you? I have to do some damage control.” Before I can answer she darts for the nearest bathroom. I take a quick step in her direction, until I catch a glimpse of Justin’s bright blond hair weaving through the crowd, and beside him, Matt. I have a momentary of tug of war inside me. Mandy, maybe possessed, versus Matt, definitely possessed. Who needs my help more?

  I pivot, winding through the crowd toward them. I lot of things in my life have started to feel like a lie. Sitting in the auditorium next to Matt and Justin, saving a place for Mandy I’m repeating actions I’ve done dozens of times before but now they are just make believe. Matt has made sure Justin is between us, and there’s no way I can reach him without throwing my body across Justin. I’m considering it. I cast a sideways glance at Justin, who still won’t make eye contact with me and catch Matt’s eyes instead. He tilts his head toward me and says in a stage whisper, “Wasting your time, I just don’t think he’s into dead people.”

  I see Justin flinch, giving him a startled look. Nothing about what Matt said sounded right. Matt is sweet and comical. The bite in his words and tone must have sounded off to Justin. I have a sudden, dangerous impulse. Could I actually goad him into revealing himself in front of Justin? “Well, I’m not as dead as I used to be. I guess that’s something we have in common.” I retort.

  He laughs humourlessly. “Maybe you’re not as dead as you used to be, but you’re not as alive as you used to be anymore are you? Me on the other hand, I’m more alive with every passing moment.”

  Justin is looking between the two of us, confused by the hostility between us but still avoiding talking to me. I smile at Matt, all sweetness. “Not for long.” I shoot my hand across Justin and made a grab for him. My fingers graze his arm as he thrust himself backward, flinging his whole body into the chair beside him. I feel a snapping energy arch into him and hear a sizzle.

  He’s clutching his arm but he’s beyond my reach. “Bitch,” he snarls at me.

  “So I can hurt you. Good to know.” I give him my best cocky smile, “you’re right, we are going to have fun together.” Inside my stomach’s twisting into bitter knots but I feel the expression of arrogance on my face and know I’m pulling off a convincing performance.

  His eyes darken to pitch black. “I’ll be sure and pass that along etherite.” He spits the last word at me and stands, just as the lights dim. The principal steps up to the podium and announces we’ll be having a drug and crisis awareness assembly. A collective groan rises from the crowd. No one is surprised, these are pretty standard responses to any unusual events and we’ve had plenty of those lately.

  In the darkness Matt slips away. I know Justin’s burning with curiosity about our fight. Maybe he even realizes what’s happening. I can only hope.

  The usual panel of counsellors and anti-drug officers start their talk. No one listens much in the best of times, and I don’t listen at all. Ephraim appears on my right, so faint and shimmery that I know I’m the only one who can see him. He’s trying to talk to me, but I can’t hear him over the speakers and the multitude of whisperings, squirmings and shiftings that make up the normal assembly background noise. I try reading his lips but, other than being distracted with how soft and smooth they look, I can’t understand him.

  I take a chance and hiss, “I don’t understand. What’s wrong?” He opens his hands, turning his palms up, a sign that means absolutely nothing to me.

  Justin shifts in his seat, gapping at me, “You don’t know what’s wrong?” he asks incredulously.

  There aren’t a lot of ways to answer, so I ignore him and concentrate on my surroundings. I’m listening with that other part of me; the part that can hear faint noises and sense spirits. At first there is nothing, and then I hear it, a desperate gasping sound.

  A girl about ten rows in front of me is wheezing, her body rocks
back and forth as she struggle to breeze. Her lips have turned icy blue and she has white lines forming around her mouth. “Shit,” I say, leaping to my feet.

  I scramble past the people in my row, knocking knees and hitting the backs of heads in my haste. I take the steps two at a time as I pelt toward her. I have to climb over her neighbours who sit placidly listening as she asphyxiates right in front of them.

  I’ve had enough first aid to know the procedure. She’s conscious so either she’s choking, asthmatic or having an allergic reaction. I grab her shoulders, preparing for the next step, whatever it is. As soon as I touch her skin, I feel something deep and twisted writhing around inside her. Part of me lashes out at it, shooting a pulse of ethereal energy into her. She gasps and rocks back from me, but I hold on. A surge of power chases the darkness in her, driving it back. Mentally I push at the dark thing, trying to fling it away from us.

  Her body bucks under my hands and she takes a shuddering breath, and then another. Her eyes open and slowly center on me. Time has distorted in that strange way it does in a crisis. While we’ve been locked in a life and death struggle the rest of the auditorium has passed only a few stunned seconds.

  Chaos explodes in the auditorium. Teachers and students leap to help, but even as they start to move more howls erupt and a few students drop to the ground writhing and clutching parts of their bodies.

  I pivot on the spot, looking back down the length of my row. Two girls from my row, and one from the one in front, all kids I’ve bumped into on my way to help this girl are screaming and rolling like they’ve caught fire and are trying to quench the flames.

  I look back at the girl in front of me, and see that the colour is returning to her cheeks. My hands start to tremble so I let them drop away from her. I push back, trying to put distance between myself and the thrashing kids but now I can’t move without touching others and every few times I touch someone they recoil, scream or drop flailing to the floor. I push faster and harder, not caring who I hit as long as I can escape the turmoil.

  A rolling sea of chaos erupts around me. Inhuman wailing sounds against the walls and reverberates like a hurricane siren. People scramble away from the convulsives, shoving, pushing and scrambling away, carrying me in a wave with them. I battle to keep my feet, holding my arms out, knocking people away from me, but everywhere I turn a moving wall of bodies closing on me, “Ephraim help!” I scream.

  The lights in the auditorium flicker and dim, sending us all into twilight. The sprinklers hiss and spring to life. A deluge of water pours down on us. The screams break off; drown out in the rain as students start throwing sweatshirts over their heads and streaming towards the exits. The crush of the crowd eases away from me. I tuck my hands into my pockets, kept my head down and head for the nearest exit, putting as much distance as I can between me and the half dozen moaning bodies still lying on the auditorium floor.

  I slip outside into the cold, white fog that has settled over the school. As people spread out, their lines become blurry and indistinct. It’s easy for me to slip away from the crowd. I spot the large blue dumpsters just beyond the rear entrance and creep between them and the wall. My hands against the cold metal I brace myself, easing down to the concrete. It’s a small space and I am tucked tightly into it, no one will notice me here.

  I put my head on my knees and squeeze my eyes shut. I don’t want any of this to be real anymore. I want it all too just go away. A warm arm wraps around my shoulders. I lean against Ephraim, my eyes still shut. His arms tighten around me and he hold me silently. I don’t know how long we sit like that; long enough for the chills to leave my bones, not long enough for the shock to wear off. Finally I say, “Matt’s right isn’t he? I’m never going to be the same as I was before.”

  I hear a sigh beside me, “Firstly, that’s not Matt. Second, yes, you’re different now but you’re completely alive. He’s trying to twist you up and confuse you. You shouldn’t listen to the things they say to you.”

  I ball my hands into fists and then open them stretching the palms out. I feel a kind of vibration in them that tugs me a little to my left, towards Ephraim. “I might be alive but I’m not human anymore, am I?”

  I lean closer and touch his palms against mine. His voice is husky when he answers. “Not completely. I changed both of us. Our energies are intertwined. I’m a little bit human and you; you’re a lit bit Ethereal. It’s the only way to cross back into this world. Human spirits can’t return to your plane, it’s a one way journey. I’m sorry.”

  I open my eyes and realize he’s incredibly close to me. I’m looking right into his eyes, our hands still pressed together. “I told you not to apologize for saving my life Ephraim.” He starts to smile but I shake my head. “You want this to be okay? Changing me forever into something other than human? That’s only okay if my friends, my family and my whole world doesn’t pay the price for me.”

  “They won’t,” he promises.

  Justin calls my named through the fog, he sounds near. I push my hands against the metal dumpster and forced my way to a standing position. Before I can step out from the dumpsters, Ephraim grips my hands tightly. “Don’t. Don’t go back in there, it’s not safe.”

  I smile grimly at him, “I know. They have Matt. They could take Justin or Mandy next. I won’t just leave them.” I step away from him, emerging into the milling throng of students. Ephraim trails me and he’s still solid and visible.

  “Becka!” Justin rushes halfway toward me, before he remembers we’re fighting and stops short, grimacing. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Ephraim steps up beside me and Justin’s eyes shift to him. I clench my teeth, resisting the urge to say all manner of mean spirited and self-righteous things. That would probably only make things worse between us. Instead I gesture to Ephraim. “Justin I’d like you to meet a completely imaginary, figment of my deranged imagination, Ephraim. Ephraim, my oldest and truest friend, who thinks I’ve lost my mind, Justin.”

  Ephraim smiles a bright, heart stopping smile that makes me regret my sarcastic tone and unkind thoughts. He extends his hand to Justin, who responds automatically. They almost shake hands but Justin’s hand slips through Ephraim’s like he’s a holographic projection. “Sorry about that,” Ephraim says to Justin, “Good to meet you.”

  Justin stares down at his own hand, then back at Ephraim. He shivers violently. His hair is slick and wet from the sprinklers, his shirt clings to him and goose bumps stand out all along his arms. But I doubt any of that is causing his shivering, he’s looking at Ephraim like he’s just seen a ghost. I shiver too, without Ephraim’s touch, the fog’s chill wraps around me and seeps into my bones. I take Ephraim’s hand and let his spring-day sunshine rush into me. “Come on Ephraim,” I say, nodding to Justin as we leave. “Justin.”

  You’d think a riot, multiple seizures and the sprinklers being set off would have earned us at least a half day off, but it doesn’t. I think the administration is worried we’ll rush home and tell our parents before they can do damage control, although maybe that’s just me being cynical. They probably also think school is the safest place for us all right now. They have no idea how wrong they are.

  So I suffer through Spanish and I limp through laps in gym rather than going to the library. With all the things that have happened I’m starting to feel a lot safer in a crowd. I don’t see anything more of Matt, and I can’t say I’m sorry about it. I haven’t got the first idea what to do for him. It’s one thing to decide you’re going to save someone, a whole other thing to actually do it.

  When I don’t appear for study hall my phone vibrates at me. I wait until I’m at the far side of the gym from Couch T and surreptitiously slide my phone from my pocket. It’s a text from Justin. It says simply I believe you. Can we talk after swim practice?

  The little sick feeling in my stomach steadies. I haven’t admitted it to myself but fighting with Justin has been the worst part of all this. I need his support, I always have. I t
ext him back right away, and stir myself up enough to jog a few paces. Immediately Couch T’s voice booms out, “Cut that out Pierce. No running. You’ll addle your brains.” I slow. I don’t know about my brains but my leg’s killing me.

  Mandy slows to a walk next to me. She’s certainly happy for an excuse to stop running laps. “You look happy. Does that mean you and Justin aren’t fighting anymore?” I don’t know how she knew these things. I didn’t tell her, but I should have. There was a time I would have told her everything.

  I nod, “We’re meeting up after swim practice to talk. But I think the fight’s pretty much over.”

  “Good,” Mandy affirms, and takes a nice long breath, which powers her through about four loops of the gym at my painful limping speed. I try not to listen but slowly the meaning of her words sink in. “Wait, you’re dating Derrick? Derrick? The guy who almost got me killed?” My voice rises on the end of the sentence and most of the gym class looks over at us. I lower my voice again. “Isn’t that a little insensitive, even for you?”

  The second the words are out of my mouth I regret them. I see the hurt hit Mandy’s face, replaced quickly by anger. “I don’t know what your problem with him is. It’s not like he tried to kill you, it was an accident. It could have happened to anyone. Anyway he told me he’s tried to apologize to you about a hundred times and you won’t accept. He doesn’t blame you for the accident but he should. If you weren’t so stuck up and perfect you would have stayed at the party and had some fun. It’s your fault he was even out there driving you home. Have you even bothered to apologize to him or are you so incredibly self-obsessed that you didn’t even think of it?” I can’t answer, I’m too stunned by her speech, and by the fact that a knot of kids have formed around us and are listening to every word. Mandy throws up her hands dramatically. “I’m right aren’t I? I bet you didn’t even ask if he was okay. Really Becka, it can’t always be all about you!” she yells and storms away from me, pushing through the crowd of onlookers.