Finding My Faith

by Carly Fall

  He nodded.

  “I wasn't listening to them.”

  Faith told him that she had felt she was being watched for a couple of weeks or so before the actual abduction, but every time she turned around, there simply wasn't anyone there. She ignored the feeling, until one day she came home and she’d sworn that someone had been in the apartment.

  “This is going to sound strange, but the air was different. The feeling of the apartment was different, as if it had been...tainted somehow.”

  Rayner imagined that someone who was very sensitive would be able to detect the evil of a Colonist and feel the shift in the atmosphere.

  She hadn't called the police, although she wished she had. But really, what would they have said? She would have been basing her call on instinct, not on hard evidence. “Of course, there was nothing they could have done. I mean, the place was spotless. My roommate and I are neat people. Everything was in its space. I didn't see anything out of order that would indicate someone had been in the apartment, so there was nothing they could do.”

  She had tried to ignore her feelings and continue on with her life as though nothing were wrong. However, she couldn't shake the feeling.

  A few days later, she was leaving work at her usual time, taking her usual route home. All she remembered was one minute she was walking down the street, then she felt something over her mouth, and the next minute she woke up on a dirt floor. She realized then that she was being drugged. And she was given too much of the drug, which was causing her heart and lungs to slow, but not slow enough to the point of death. There were also other girls there. She didn't know how many.

  “Where were you taken?”

  “Down the street. In front of the Laundromat.”

  Rayner nodded, making a mental note to check that area for ash. He doubted he would see any, but it couldn't hurt to look.

  “Do you know where your body is?” Rayner asked, hopeful that this time would be different from all the other times he had encountered a spirit.

  She shook her head, looking sad. “When I left my body, I couldn't get back into it. I saw it briefly, but then I left...”

  She described the surroundings she had seen when she had left her body. "It's in a cage or jail or something. The floor is made of dirt. I'm in there with some other girls...maybe four or five of them."

  He filed the information to go over at another time. Caged on a dirt floor. Drugged. Gotcha.

  As they approached the police station, Faith slowed.

  What's up?

  She sighed heavily, crossing her arms over her chest. “I want to see my parents, but I know they're going to be devastated by this, and I don't think I can watch that.”

  He nodded. Faith, you need to do this. They may provide information that we can use to get you back to this side.

  She studied the sidewalk. Rayner could tell she was trying to get herself ready for the meeting, if they were lucky enough to time this whole thing right.

  “Okay,” she said quietly.

  He wanted to reach out and grab her hand and give it a squeeze. He wanted to bring her to his chest, wrap his arms around her, and tell her it would all be okay.

  But he couldn't do any of that. Even if she was in corporeal form, this was strictly business, he reminded himself. She was a step in getting another Colonist good and dead.

  “Ready?”

  She sighed again. “Yes.”

  Chapter 12

  They waited on a park bench across the street from the police station for an hour. Rayner thought it would be best if he didn't speak out loud while camping out in front of the police station. It would be way too easy for a cop to decide he needed a psych evaluation.

  While there, Rayner found himself wanting to know everything about Faith. Her family. What her childhood had been like. What had brought her to Phoenix. He peppered her with questions as if he was interrogating her. He told himself that he was getting background intel to see if anything stuck out on why she had been targeted by the Colonist, and maybe point him in the direction of the bastard.

  He also knew he was lying to himself. He just wanted to know her better.

  He found himself surprised at how much their lives were alike. She had grown up with nature in the mountains of Arizona, similar to the forest on SR44. She had come to the big city to check out how the city folks lived, just as he had done. And it went without saying that bad shit happened to both of them. He entered the military, which brought him here. She was abducted and almost dead. Conversation flowed freely and he found himself lounging back on the bench, his legs crossed at the ankles. He was comfortable and really, really enjoying himself.

  She eventually turned the tables and started asking questions about him, meeting him question for question, looking for information.

  “How long have you had your gift?” she asked with a smile. Was she enjoying herself as well?

  He grinned back. I don't consider it a gift, he projected. More of a curse.

  She tilted her head to the side. “Why?”

  He didn't want to tell her that there was usually nothing he could do for the spirits he saw, and he hated that fact. Instead, he just shrugged his shoulders and looked over at the people filing out of the police station. After a moment, he projected, It’s not…not easy to be able to see people caught between life and death. I think my life would be easier if I couldn’t. If I was…unaware.

  “Well, I consider it a gift,” she said. “At least a gift to me. I found someone to help me when I thought I was going to be lost forever.”

  He looked back at her, feeling the first talons of guilt begin to take hold. He wasn’t going to be able to help her, and he felt bad leading her on as if he could. He just wanted that Colonist. I'll do my best.

  Ten minutes later the front door to the police station opened again, and Faith flew to her feet as if the bench had caught fire.

  "There they are," she said quietly. Rayner could see the apprehension written all over her face.

  "Let's go," he said out loud to her.

  They crossed the street and followed her parents about a half block where they stopped at a black Ford F-150.

  "That's their truck," Faith said quietly.

  "Mr. and Mrs. Cloudfoot?" Rayner said, stepping up to them.

  Both turned. Faith's father was a big man, almost as big as Rayner himself. He stood just a bit above six feet and had the hard body of an older man who didn't sit still for long, but was in perpetual movement. His dark hair was clasped at the nape of his neck with a leather band and went down between his shoulder blades. His brown skin showed signs of aging as small roadmaps of wrinkles creased his face. His dark eyes honed in on Rayner warily.

  Faith's mother looked just like Faith, except for the hair. Her straight black hair swirled around her slim figure, her dark eyes and face showing the visible signs of a worried woman who was holding on to nothing but hope.

  Prideful and stoic was how he would describe both of them.

  "I'm a friend of Faith's. I was wondering if I could talk to you for a few minutes."

  Faith's mother's eyes narrowed as she looked him up and down. "What's your name?" she asked quietly.

  "Rayner."

  "I don't remember her ever talking about you," her mother said.

  "Tell her you've known me since I moved from the apartment on 4th Street to where I am now," Faith told him softly.

  So he did.

  Her mom nodded, like he had passed some sort of test.

  "What can we help you with, son?" her father said in a deep, quiet voice.

  "Well, I'm a freelance investigator working on finding Faith. I was wondering if I could talk to you, ask you a few questions."

  "We just spent an hour answering questions," her mother said.

  "I know. I'm not working with the police. I'm doing this on my own."

  Rayner knew her parents were gauging him, deciding whether or not to trust him. The verdict would be decided in seconds.

>   Finally, her father nodded. "Where do you want to talk?"

  "Can I buy you a cup of coffee?" Rayner asked. The last thing he needed was more caffeine—he felt like he was vibrating in his own skin—but it was only 11 a.m., and he guessed a suggestion of a beer probably wouldn’t go over very well.

  Faith's mom was the first to nod. "I could use some coffee," she said quietly. "C'mon Chevey."

  Her husband came around the car and stuck out his hand. "Cheveyo Cloudfoot. People call me Chevey. My wife, Anna."

  Rayner put his hand into the big paw and gave it a shake. "It's nice to meet you, sir. Mrs. Cloudfoot. The coffee shop is just a couple doors down this way."

  ***

  Faith trailed behind her parents and Rayner as they made their way to the coffee shop. She loved the respect he was giving her parents, peppering the conversation with the sir's and the ma'ams. “A boy with manners,” her father would have said with approval. Yet, even with the respect and deference he had shown, her father and Rayner were equals. She noticed how they both walked with the same gait. They strode like proud warriors, their footsteps long and sure. One might be older than the other, but their spirit was born out of the same cloth.

  It was so good to see her mom and dad, but she could tell they were in pain. Her dad looked ten years older than the last time she had seen him. She wanted to throw herself in front of them and tell them she was okay, but she knew they would just walk through her, and that would probably hurt worse than staying on the sidelines.

  She looked at her mother's worried face and felt her heart break a little. They had always been so close. So close, that Faith considered her more of a friend than a parent. Faith had always confided everything to her mom. Her first kiss, when she had lost her virginity, when her boyfriend broke up with her, when her supposed girlfriend stabbed her in the back and posted confidential information on Facebook. Her mom knew everything, and she longed to throw herself at her mom and start bawling.

  She sighed heavily, and she saw Rayner look over his shoulder as if he were checking that she was okay. She gave him a small smile.

  The coffee shop wasn't a fancy corporate one, but a mom and pop store that somehow continued to eek out its existence with all the corporate stores moving in. The inside wasn't fancy: worn wooden tables and chairs and brown tile. The walls were white and decorated with pictures of old downtown Phoenix, as well as pictures of the building of Hoover Dam, which resided in Arizona or Nevada, depending on what side of the thing you were on. It was rumored that one of the owners’ relatives had worked on the Hoover Dam and had also died on it back in the 1930s.

  The coffee shop did two things right: perfect coffee with none of the frappe, latte, or low fat this, skim that. If you ordered coffee, you got coffee strong enough to make your blood percolate, and you had the choice of putting real cream and sugar in it or drinking it black. They also excelled at pie, offering three flavors: apple, cherry, and banana crème. During the holiday season they expanded the pie selection to include pumpkin. Although Faith worked at one of the big corporate stores, this was her favorite place to get coffee. And pie. She loved the pie—it was one of life’s many pleasures she enjoyed. And she was all about enjoying any pleasure she could. Faith was a huge fan of the apple and suddenly felt irritated knowing she couldn't eat a piece, being a ghost, or spirit, or whatever she was.

  As they went into the coffee shop, Rayner glanced over his shoulder, stopping as though he was going to hold the door open for her, but then remembered she wasn't supposed to be there and let the door close while projecting sorry.

  She smiled, rolled her eyes, and walked through the glass. She watched as Rayner led her parents to a table in the far corner and sat down. He motioned under the table for Faith to come over.

  She walked over, not bothering to weave in and out between the chairs or the people. She just did a beeline for her parents and Rayner, passing through everything in her way.

  There were only three chairs at the table, so she stood. Hell, she should have just stood in the middle of it, but somehow that seemed wrong on a lot of levels.

  She watched as they talked. Her parents looked tired and heartbroken, but they were holding it together. She hated that she was standing within inches of them and they couldn't see her. She wanted Rayner to tell them that she was there, that she wasn't dead, but she understood why he couldn't. They wouldn't take him seriously if he started spouting stuff like that.

  They talked quietly while they waited for service. She watched as her parents answered Rayner's questions, but then her father quickly turned the questioning back to Rayner.

  “How do you know Faith?”

  Rayner cleared his throat and began talking, parroting what Faith was telling him.

  “I met her, like I said, right when she moved to the new apartment. She used to work at the bar off of Jefferson where I was a bouncer and when she moved over to the coffee shop, we kept in touch.”

  Faith watched the conversation and studied Rayner. She hadn't seen him without his sunglasses on, but she had been correct. The guy was a pleasure to look at. She found herself watching his black-gray eyes. They were intelligent and kind. She liked the way he kept pushing his blond hair back with his hand or tucking it behind his ears. He didn't look like the type to wear earrings, but she liked the hoops in his ears. Her eyes traveled down to his big chest covered with a bright red shirt that read Tapout, down to his long legs clad in jeans and his leather boots. She wondered how she hadn't noticed the sheer power of him.

  Oh yeah.

  She probably had been preoccupied with being a ghost.

  She watched as the waitress came toward her, then walked through her as she made her way to another table. She was so tired of not…existing.

  Rayner slowly turned the questions back to her parents, and Faith filled in the details when needed. She was becoming agitated at not actually participating in the conversation, not being able to communicate with her parents or wrap her arms around them. She was so irritated, she almost started to hop from foot to foot. Rayner glanced up at her and motioned to his leg, tapping at it under the table. He was offering his lap for her to sit in?

  Really?

  She watched as he sat back, as if she were corporeal and would fit between him and the table. In reality, she would simply go through the table. She was touched that he saw her that way, and decided to try to be normal for just a little bit. Even though she was ghost, she found herself weary.

  She moved to sit in his lap, pretty much surrounding his leg as if it were encased by a fog. However, she found herself content and feeling somewhat normal and safe for the first time in a couple of days.

  Her father excused himself and headed for the restroom. Her mother sat in silence watching him go, then turned back to Rayner.

  “Excuse my frankness, Rayner, but were you my daughter’s lover?”

  Faith sensed Rayner's body go tight. It was obvious that he was uncomfortable with her mother's bluntness. Faith supposed if a person wasn't used to it, getting caught up in her mother's crosshairs could be a very cringe-worthy experience.

  “No, I'm not. Wasn't. No.”

  Her mother nodded. “Just friends.”

  “Yes, ma'am.”

  “I'm surprised.”

  Rayner cleared his throat. “Why?”

  Her mother shrugged, her eyes never leaving his. “You're a good person. You're nice to look at. I always hoped Faith would find someone like you."

  Rayner squirmed in his chair, but didn't get too flustered. “Thank you. But no. I'm just a friend.”

  Her mother nodded. "Maybe when she's found—and she will be found alive—maybe that should be something you can think about."

  "What?"

  "Dating my daughter instead of this 'just friends' business."

  Faith watched a deep blush begin at Rayner's neck and make its way to his cheeks. She had to laugh. Her mother could be impossible at times, and today she was definitely in rare form.
Rayner gave her a "shut-up" look out of the corner of his eye, which only made her laugh harder. She was one of those people who laughed when she saw someone fall or when someone was uncomfortable. It wasn't as if she really found the event funny; it was more that she was concerned or uncomfortable herself and the emotion came through as laughter. And the look on Rayner’s face indicated that the conversation with her mother was similar to a fall down a flight of stairs.

  At that moment, her father returned to the table saving Rayner from any more conversation about Faith and him dating. Rayner cleared his throat and asked about their lives, if there was anyone they knew who would want to hurt them.

  Her father shook his head slowly while sipping his coffee, never taking his eyes from Rayner's face. He set his coffee on the table. “We're simple people, Rayner,” he said quietly. “I'm a construction foreman. My wife is a nurse. We volunteer on the reservation doing alcohol counseling. We go to church every Sunday and attend every potluck and every wedding we're invited to, every funeral of people we know. Whatever happened to Faith was either random or it's connected to her life here in the city. It has nothing to do with us.”

  He said it with so much conviction, it was so final, and Faith had no doubt Rayner thought it nothing but the truth.

  “Okay. Let's talk about what you know about her life in Phoenix.”

  Her mother gave him a look, and Faith watched confusion cross Rayner's face.

  “She's not going to talk to you about my life,” Faith told Rayner. “When I talk to her, I don't think she tells my dad a lot of what we discuss.”

  Well, you'll just have to fill me in, he projected.

  “Do you really want to hear about my life?” Faith asked. “Lovers and all?” she teased.

  She watched as Rayner flinched slightly and he didn't answer her question.

  “We didn't like her moving down here,” her father said. “I would have approved more if she stayed in town, went to the nearest college, got her degree, found a nice guy to marry, and given me some grandkids. Instead, she wanted to come to the big city.” Her father exhaled loudly, shaking his head. “That girl has fire in her gut, always wanting to try new things. She was a hell-raiser from the second she could walk. We had to practically nail down everything in the house. Even then her curiosity was unmanageable. Just after she learned to walk, she learned to jump out of her crib. One morning I came out and found her naked, sitting on the stove playing with a salt shaker. I still don’t know how she got up there.