by Yael Levy
Leigh stared at him. “What in God’s name are you talking about, Clay?”
“In my soul. There’s a woman. She died. I met her that night after I drank too much and—”
“Whoa, you sure did—”
Clay shook his head. “No, I mean it.”
“I bet.” Leigh smiled. “Was that after how many drinks?”
“C’mon, Leigh, hear me out? She possessed my soul—but she’s not evil. More like really and truly annoying . . . ”
“Okay? Dead, annoying woman in your head, who you say is from heaven?”
“Sort of. Well, more like New York.”
“Clay, that’s it. You have got to give up drinking. You can’t make this stuff up.”
“I’m not making it up!”
Leigh pursed her lips. “All right. So where is she now?”
“Who?”
“The dead lady from New York?”
“I think she’s sleeping. It’s like—when I’m strong, she’s quiet. When I’m down or feeling unsure of myself, she just . . . appears. Talks in my place. Sometimes we talk at the same time.”
Leigh started laughing. “Gosh, Clay, would you quit with this shaggy dog story?”
“No, really . . . she was giving me a headache before, so I told her to be quiet.”
“And she listened.”
“Uh, yup.”
“And why would this ghost lady listen to you?”
“Because she needs me to go to New York to break up the wedding between her fiancé and his new bride.”
“You’re really nuts.” Leigh smirked. “Maybe it isn’t drinking? Is it true about what they all were saying about the pot?”
“No! You know I would never jeopardize my team—”
Leigh nodded. “That’s true. You wouldn’t. So do you think you might be, you know, schizophrenic, or something?”
“Sure, I did wonder about that. But then we got that call from her sister. Now how would I have known this dead lady’s sister’s phone number? Your phone showed that I called Mindy Fischer. That’s Goldie’s sister. She talks about her all the time. How would I have known her number if this is all just an illness in my head?”
Leigh started to chuckle. “Wow. You sure got it all figured out, huh?”
Clay’s face reddened. “You asked me what was going on.”
Leigh started laughing. “And here I thought this was all about that kiss you gave me.”
Clay felt his face become a deeper shade of crimson. “Well . . . maybe that, too.”
Leigh looked up, and her eyes caught his gaze. “Clayton, you don’t have to make up a crazy excuse to cover that. I told you that you don’t have to say things that aren’t true just to make me feel better.”
“Huh? Excuses for what?”
“You told me the other night you thought I looked pretty. You don’t have to do this elaborate joke just to let me down nice after you changed your mind.”
“Leigh, I’m not backpedalling. I do think you are real lovely—I’ve felt that for years.”
Leigh stared at him quizzically.
Clay continued. “Remember that time we climbed up the trees on the Millers’ property and then you fell off the branch and you ended up swinging upside down and your hair was flying in the wind—”
Leigh laughed. “Yeah, and you said I looked like a Muppet on crack—”
Clay laughed, too. “Yeah, and you also were the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen.”
Leigh suddenly paused. “I don’t get it, Clay. Then . . . well . . . if you . . . ”
“Look. You said it right. I never wanted to ruin what we had, either. The girls, they all come and go . . . but you—you’re really special to me, Leigh.”
Leigh slowly exhaled as she gazed at the fire. “I swear, I will never understand men. Or ones who are possessed by dead women from New York, anyway.” Leigh turned to Clay. “But why make up all this craziness to cover one awkward kiss?”
“I’m not trying to cover anything up, Leigh. I really do believe I’m possessed. And, yes, I’ve tried not to think about that kiss . . . but . . . ”
Leigh looked up at Clay as they sat close beside each other.
Clay leaned his head down toward Leigh. “Oh Leigh, what the heck—” he said, breaking the silence. He met Leigh’s lips in a light, gentle kiss. And everything around him suddenly felt safe and good. He’d kissed many women in his time, but nothing had ever felt like this . . . so beautiful . . . so good . . . so right . . .
And then Leigh kissed him back.
• • •
“Charlie, can you come here, already? I need you!” Goldie called.
Charlie appeared, rubbing his eyes like he’d just been sleeping. “Yes, dear?”
“Those kids are canoodling and no way am I sticking around for that.”
“Is that all that’s upsetting you now?”
“No. The boy’s deodorant really gives me a headache. Can’t we do something fun; take my mind off of this nonsense? It’s really tiring being a dybbuk.”
Charlie considered her request. “Well . . . I suppose . . . ” He glanced upward momentarily, and then stared at Goldie. “I’d ask you out, but we are somewhat limited considering—”
“You’d ask me out?” Goldie smiled. “How nice. Could we take a walk? Fly in the air? I don’t know . . . scare some tourists?”
Charlie smiled. “I’ve got it,” he said. “How about we . . . Goldie, would you like to dance?”
“Dance?”
He held out his hand. Goldie found herself immediately drawn to him and she hesitated only a moment before taking his hand. Her skin tingled at his touch, and this time she didn’t fight her obvious attraction to him. She let herself be drawn close to him.
Charlie began to hum an old tune—a song she knew—one that she’d heard many times before—and she gently swayed along with him to the music. She held him and he smelled so familiar . . . like a mix of a smoke and fresh air and the smell of the pavement after the rain . . . As they danced, they swirled around, floating, slowly through the air. She let her head rest on his shoulder as he drew her close and she found herself wiping away a tear, though she didn’t know why.
“It’s okay,” he said quietly.
She knew that if he said so, it was true.
“Just go with it,” he said.
“Okay,” she agreed and let him lead her through the sky. His tune seemed to grow from humming a few notes, to being reverberating through the celestial planes, and she held him close as they danced together to the music of the universe.
When the song ended she stared at Charlie, but he didn’t break her gaze as tears slowly drifted down her cheeks.
Charlie wiped away her tears with his thumb. “Is that what you had in mind?”
Goldie swallowed. “That dance was . . . amazing . . . ”
He smiled. “Yes, it was.”
“Charlie, is there something you’re not telling me? I mean . . . well . . . with those dreams . . . and how I feel whenever I’m with you . . . do we know each other? I mean . . . I feel like I’ve known you forever.”
Charlie kissed the top of her head. “Maybe you have.”
• • •
The sun was breaking over Stone Mountain. Leigh was snuggled beside Clay, who was still sleeping near their campfire.
“I think I love you,” Leigh, half-asleep, whispered to Clay.
“Huh?” Goldie woke up to find that redhead in her embrace and quickly sat up.
Leigh awoke. “Clay?”
“Ugh,” Goldie exhaled and lightly shoved Leigh off of her. “Could you please move?”
Leigh paled. “So what was last night?”
“I don’t know about last night. But I’m starting to feel really trapped.”
Leigh sat back, clearly upset. “Trapped? Because of what we shared?”
Goldie turned toward her. “Why are you still here?”
“Because you asked me to stay with you.”
“Did I? Look—you’re a sweetheart, really, but could you get me to the airport?”
Leigh shook her head. “Why? Because you can’t take being close?”
Goldie fanned the air. “It’s nothing personal. I just can’t stick around here. Not for you, not for anyone. I really have to get to New York.”
Leigh kept staring at Goldie.
Goldie shrugged. “If it’s too much for you, I suppose I could call Carolyn. She’s great.”
Leigh swallowed and glared at Goldie. “Last night you told me it was over between you two.”
“I did?” Goldie shook her head. “Carolyn is so fun, I really enjoy her. I’m telling you, if I didn’t have to get to New York, I would want to hang out with her, like, forever.”
“Really?”
“Uh huh. She’s exactly my type. She’s smart and sweet—her hair is to die for. And God, she sure knows how to dress. I love her taste in clothes,” Goldie said, distracted, and started dialing her number.
Leigh bit her lip. “So that’s it? Didn’t you say there are all types of beauty?”
“Oh, honey, sure, but that’s nothing to fret over. Any girl can make herself more attractive.”
Leigh exhaled. “So you don’t find me attractive. I knew it. You were just saying that to get me to—”
“Have you ever thought of, you know, some help?”
“Help with what?”
“I don’t know . . . maybe a nose job?” Goldie pointed to her chest. “You could probably use some more up here.” She then pinched Leigh’s waist. “Smaller waist might work well for you, too.”
Leigh’s eyes widened. “Seriously? You really think that?”
“Oh yes. But on second thought, your waist could pass. If you got a bigger butt, though, you could look like a model. You’re tall enough to pull it off.” Goldie listened while the phone rang. “Hey Carolyn? Any chance you’re free today? No? Oh, too bad . . . Yeah, I know the cops are after me, but I’m not worried.”
Leigh stared at Goldie. “Oh. My. God. You’ve completely lost it.”
“Now why would you say that?” Goldie said. “I’m just trying to help.” Goldie turned back to the phone. “Okay, Carolyn. You don’t have to sound so mad. All right already! I can just beg Leigh over here to help out. She’s a trooper.”
Goldie hung up the phone and then faced Leigh. “Carolyn’s busy. She said she’s got a date with Pierre, the Frenchman. And boy was she upset! So I don’t have too many other choices—it’s just you and me. Could you please, pretty please get me to the airport?”
“Let me get this straight.” Leigh slowly exhaled. “So you don’t love me, you don’t even find me attractive, last night when we were together didn’t mean much to you, and you’d rather be with Carolyn . . . yet you want me to get you to New York?”
“Um.” Goldie suddenly worried she might have offended Leigh. “Is that okay with you?”
“No, it most certainly is not! I just can’t believe it. What a fool I’ve been. After all this time . . . you don’t even love me. You probably never did.” Tears welled up in Leigh’s eyes. “And last night? Did that mean anything?”
“Last night was all right. I sure am tired, though.”
Leigh paled.
“But why are you getting so upset? Aren’t we just friends? I just want to get out of here and if it’s too much trouble then really, I’m happy to pay you. How much do you want for your services?”
Leigh looked horrified. “Services? Oh my God, Clay. You couldn’t—”
“Please?”
Leigh smacked Clay’s face.
“What was that for?” Goldie held Clay’s throbbing cheek. “All I ask is for you to get me to New York? I don’t deserve this!”
“You don’t deserve this? After what you just said to me?” Leigh stood back and scratched her head. “Hot to cold. You’re really crazy.” She walked to her car and Goldie followed dutifully behind her.
“Hey, can you wait up?” Goldie said, trying to keep up.
Leigh looked at Goldie and shook her head. “Being with you . . . it’s too painful,” she said finally and continued walking, leaving Goldie behind. Leigh got into her car and locked the door behind her. Goldie banged on the window. “Could you let me in?”
Leigh laughed. “You can’t hurt me anymore, Clay. I’m so beyond that.”
“I’m not trying to hurt you or anybody for that matter. This isn’t about feelings. I just need a ride.”
Leigh started the ignition and drove off as Goldie ran after her. “What? Why won’t you help me? I’ll make it worth your while—I must get to New York!” Goldie cried. “Please!”
The dust blew in Goldie’s nose as Leigh rode off and left her standing behind, all alone.
• • •
Clay woke to the smell of tires skidding off the pavement and watched as Leigh drove off. “Hey!” he called, but she couldn’t hear him. He quickly dialed her number but when she ignored his call he immediately started running after her.
Goldie sniffed. “Those redheads sure have hot tempers,” she said.
“Oh, no, Goldie . . . what did you do?” Clay said as he ran, trying to catch up to Leigh.
“I have no idea. I just asked her for a ride to New York and she got all huffy.”
“Oh, no, you didn’t. Leigh doesn’t get angry for—” He saw Leigh stop.
“Oh, so you love her?” Goldie laughed. “She sure is a feisty one!”
“Leigh!” he called.
She got out of the car and slammed the door. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
Leigh exhaled. “You’re beyond hurtful. And you’re truly insane.”
“I’m sorry!” Clay said, and tears welled up in his eyes. “I told you—the crazy lady—”
Leigh started to cry, too. “I can’t do this, Clay. How much can I take?” she said quietly and turned back to her car.
“Don’t go, Leigh!” Clay caught his breath and walked over to her.
“You can’t play me like that,” she said. “One minute you love me, the next minute you don’t—”
“That’s not true. I’ve always loved you. I always have and I always will.”
“If this is your idea of love, I don’t want it.”
“How could you say, that?”
“You think it’s okay to say such terrible things to me?”
“I told you!” Tears welled up in Clay’s eyes. “Whatever she said—it wasn’t me. It was that dybbuk—that demon—trapped inside me!”
“Okay.” Leigh closed her eyes, tight. “Get in the car.”
Clay jumped over and got in the car. “Help me. I can’t do this alone.”
“After what you’ve put me through, you don’t deserve five minutes of my time, let alone my love,” Leigh said as she got into her car. “But I see you’re really breaking down. I’m here for you, Clay. I’ll get you help.”
“I need you, Leigh. Without you I feel like I just want to . . . ”
Goldie piped up. “So that means we’re going to New York? God, these dreams are driving me crazy. What a headache—you shouldn’t know from it. Charlie? Charlie, where are you?”
Leigh smiled sadly at Clay and pressed on the gas. “Dybbuk back, huh?”
Goldie nodded emphatically. “Charlie?” she called. “Can you come back?”
Leigh kept driving. “Hey while you’re at it, ask Clay to come back, too?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Leigh turned into the Emory Hospital parking lot.
“Hey, what are we doing here?” Goldie asked.
“It’s okay. Everything is going to be fine. Why don’t you come with me?”
“Why?” Goldie got out of the car and followed Leigh.
“Just ’cause, Clay. I should’ve done this days ago.”
“C’mon, Clay’s shoulder isn’t that bad.”
“Uh huh.” Leigh led Goldie into the emergency room. They walked together as Le
igh went up to the attendant sitting behind a window. “You have a head guy?”
The attendant stared at Leigh. “What do you mean? The head of which department?”
“No.” Leigh pointed toward Goldie. “Do you have a doctor that could help my friend with his head?”
The attendant nodded. “Like a neurologist or a psychiatrist?”
“I really don’t know.” Leigh shook her head. “My friend had a concussion a while back and he’s not been himself.”
“Leigh,” Goldie interrupted. “I’m fine. I just want to get on the airplane to stop the witch.”
The attendant looked at Goldie and started writing on her clipboard. “Sure, please wait, and Dr. Abadi will be with you shortly. Do you have insurance?”
They sat down, and after a short while, Clay noticed he was sitting in the waiting area of a busy emergency room. He stood up and grabbed Leigh’s hand. “What are we doing here?”
“I should’ve done this when I found you passed out at the park. You need to get checked out, Clay.”
“Why? I’m not sick.”
“Maybe not, but you’re crazy.”
“Why would you say that?”
Leigh shook her head. “Don’t start.”
“Leigh, I’m possessed by a demon. I’m not crazy.”
“Right.” Leigh nodded. “How about we let Dr. Abadi decide that, okay, Clay?”
Clay shook his head and got up, starting toward the exit. “I have to get her to New York.”
“Who? The lady trapped inside of you?”
“That’s right!” He raised his voice. “Why are we wasting time in a hospital?”
The attendant looked up. “If you don’t calm down, I’ll have to call security,” she said.
Clay smiled. “Sure,” he said, and slowly backed away. He saw a doctor in a white coat walking toward him and Leigh.
“Leigh! If they think I’m crazy, they’ll lock me up,” he said to her.
“I’m sorry,” Leigh said sadly and shrugged. “But you need help, Clay.”
“I can’t be stuck in a hospital. I must get to New York.”
Leigh squeezed his arm. “That’s why I brought you here. The doctor here will help you and then you can go to New York, or Chicago, or Canada . . . anywhere you dream of.”