Zellie Wells Trilogy (Glimpse, Glimmer, Glow)

by Stacey Wallace Benefiel

  Melody felt the power of his grin in her whole being. She couldn’t help but smile. This is really happening.

  “All right kids,” Roger said. He walked over to the bed and shooed Melody off of it. She reluctantly stood up. “I’ve got to excise this skin before it goes necrotic and then get our Lazarus here sewn up. You all probably won’t want to stick around for that.” Gently, he rolled Raleigh onto his side.

  Raleigh wiggled his eyebrows at her.

  Normally, Melody would have been out the door pronto, but... “Will he be in much pain? I could stay with him, hold his hand?”

  Roger reached behind himself and pushed a button on one of the IVs. “He won’t feel much of anything now.”

  Melody looked down at Raleigh as his eyes glazed over and his mouth opened into a goofy half-smile.

  “Sunny days,” Roger said, chuckling.

  Zellie put her hand on Melody’s arm and tugged at her. “C’mon, Mom and Dad are going to be pissed that we’ve been gone so long. I promise I’ll bring you back to visit in a couple of days.”

  Melody grabbed Raleigh’s fingertips with her own and gave them a light squeeze. “So, um, take care and feel better, okay?”

  He nodded his head, his eyes at half-mast. “Blackplack,” he slurred, his face twisting up in a confused expression at the sound of his messed up voice.

  “Oh, yeah. It’s in the Jeep. I’ll just drop it off outside the door.” After I rifle through it as per your earlier suggestion.

  “Ohhhhkaaay, Mel.” Raleigh closed his eyes completely and drifted off.

  Roger took an iodine-soaked cotton ball off of a tray on the cart he’d wheeled over next to him and poised it above Raleigh’s back. “Later taters. See you in a few.”

  Melody retrieved the backpack from the Jeep. “I’ll be right back, I’m just going to drop this off.”

  “Sure,” Zellie said, not even bothering to look at Melody as Avery hoisted her up onto the hood of the car.

  That kind of lust-filled craziness wasn’t exactly what Melody thought she wanted. She thought her sister and Avery were way too co-dependent, but she supposed she wouldn’t know until she tried it.

  She went around back and paused at the end of the wheelchair ramp. Before she could change her mind, she unzipped the backpack.

  Inside was Raleigh’s wallet, containing two hundred dollars, a debit card and his driver’s license. Melody ran her thumb over the little picture. Raleigh’s hair was a clean honey blonde and pulled back into a ponytail. His skin was fair and freckled and unscarred. He was smiling and wearing an aqua Life Is Good t-shirt the same color as his eyes. But most importantly, Melody saw that they had the same birthday. He was exactly two years older than she was. She grinned. Two years isn’t a big deal. Her dad was two years older than her mom.

  She dug down into the backpack further, coming up with a journal and a Leatherman. That was it. That silly city boy didn’t even have a head lamp or a regular old flashlight. She vowed to never let him go to a park by himself, let alone into the woods.

  Yeah, because that’s not co-dependent thinking.

  She stuck the journal and Leatherman back inside. Of course she was curious to find out more about Raleigh, but reading his private journal wasn’t something she would do. Besides, it was probably just full of a bunch of hiking observations and crap. She walked up the ramp and set the backpack just inside the door, resisting the urge to go inside and make sure that Raleigh was truly okay. Seriously Wells, find a grip and get it.

  When they got back to Avery’s house, the station wagon and their dad’s car were gone. Avery parked in the driveway and ran inside to tell his mom that he was giving them a ride home.

  “You know, there’s the possibility that we’re going to have to take more deadish bodies to visit Roger,” Zellie said, turning to look at her.

  “I know.” Melody picked at her nail polish, sensing that Zellie was gearing up to give her a talking to.

  “And we’ve got to work together to make sure it goes better than it did today. We both made a lot of mistakes. But Candace has put her trust in us and we can’t let her down.” She reached over and took Melody’s hand. “I need for you to be with me on this. I can’t do it without you.”

  “Plus, it’s less pressure on you if I’m the one that screws things up.”

  Zellie rolled her eyes. “Totally.” Her grip on Melody’s hand tightened. “Because I know you, dumbass. You’ll have my back, no matter what, and I’ll have yours.”

  She squeezed Zellie’s hand in return. “Can you take me to see Raleigh in the morning instead of in a couple days? I don’t think he should be left out there with only Roger for company for too long.”

  Zellie nodded. “Sure.” A grin escaped the corners of her mouth. “Let’s hope the other spirits don’t choose teenage boys to inhabit, or you might get stuck in perpetual dork mode,” she giggled.

  Melody groaned, “I was really bad, wasn’t I?”

  “It was interesting to see. You don’t usually show so much...concern? I’m not sure what you see in him. He’s nice enough when he’s conscious and kinda good-looking if you can get past the dead skin flaps and what not, but, I don’t know, he’s not someone I’d see you crushing on, that’s for sure.”

  Melody took her sweaty hand from Zellie’s grip and wiped it on her shorts. “Okay, I’m going to talk to you about this one time and one time only and then we will never speak of it again.” She thought for a moment, gathering her feelings. Zellie would probably be surprised that she had any.

  “When Wes left Raleigh’s body and he looked at me, I...felt like he trusted me, like, instantly. That he was a good person looking at me as a good person.”

  “Mel, you are a good person.”

  Melody shrugged. “Maybe, but I have to really work at it. Being a Lookout has definitely helped me try to be less selfish, to care less about being popular or what people think of me, but you still know how I used to be and… he doesn’t.” Despite the heat, a chill ran through her body. “When he looked at me, I felt like I’d finally met someone I wasn’t going to have to prove myself to.”

  Zellie patted Melody on the knee. “I get it.” The smile returned to her face. “And you think he’s cute.”

  “And I think he’s cute.”

  Avery ran back to the Jeep and got inside. “Sorry that took so long. Mom’s not happy and your parents aren’t either.”

  “Why?” Zellie asked. “What’d we do now besides show up late?”

  “It seems that your dad didn’t believe Claire’s cover story and asked my dad if he wouldn’t mind popping on over to the police station to see if we were actually there.”

  “Crap,” Melody and Zellie said in unison.

  “Yeah,” said Avery, “having our parents get along is totally biting us in the ass. Our moms grilled Claire, but I guess she didn’t give up what we were doing. As soon as she’d finished eating, your dad took her home.”

  Zellie took in a deep breath and then blew it out her nose. “I suck. That was a shitty position for me to put Claire in. What’s the damage? What did your mom say?”

  Avery cringed. “I kinda threw you guys under the bus, sorry. I said I just drove you to Bend and waited outside some house while you all were meeting with someone.”

  “That’s okay,” Melody said, “vague is better.” Her eyes met Zellie’s in the rearview mirror. “Why don’t you drop me off at home and then you and Zel can, uh, go hang out or whatever for your birthday. It’s not like she won’t be in the same amount of trouble whether she goes home now or later. I’ll try to diffuse Dad.”

  “We can save Mom for tomorrow,” Zellie said.

  “That’s what I was thinking. That way we can get our stories straight.”

  Avery shook his head and reversed out of the driveway. “Always an adventure with you guys. Always.”

  Melody grabbed the pillowcase that Roger had given them to haul their smelly clothes in and hopped out of the Jeep. “I c
an see Dad standing by the window. You better go before he comes outside.”

  She shut her car door and Avery backed quickly down the driveway. Dumping the pillowcase by the front steps, leaving another thing to deal with tomorrow, Melody opened the door into the family room. Her dad was sitting on the couch pretending to read the latest Lutheran Missouri Synod newsletter.

  “Hey,” she said, walking quickly past him down the hallway to her and Zellie’s room. She stripped off the t-shirt and gym shorts, throwing them onto the floor of their closet, and pulled on her nightshirt. It was a little early to be getting ready for bed, just before nine, but her Dad tended to fight with her less when she was dressed in pajamas. Like he was comforted by the fact that jammies equaled daughter staying safely at home.

  He knocked on the bedroom door. “Can I come in?”

  Melody opened it and then went to her bed and got under the covers. “Zellie and Avery went to get an ice cream cone.”

  Her dad sighed and sat down on the edge of Zellie’s bed across from her. “Is that what you kids are calling it these days?”

  Melody made a gagging face. “Gross. No, they seriously went to get ice cream.”

  “Like you all were seriously at the police station this evening?” He narrowed his eyes at her.

  Their poor dad. He wanted so badly to protect them and guide them and make sure they turned out to be good God-loving people. They’d done nothing but prove that they didn’t need his protection and that he didn’t know how to guide them, and to top it all off, what Zellie could do kinda went against God’s plan.

  “I know you know we weren’t at the police station. Avery’s mom told him that you sent Mr. Adams to check on us.”

  “You’re not going to tell me where you really were?” her dad asked, standing.

  Melody pulled her covers up under her chin. “I wish I could.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t believe a thing that comes out of you girls’ mouths anymore.”

  “I know, Dad.”

  He stared at her for a moment, his expression softening. Accepting what was. “Well, the new assistant pastor comes into town tomorrow. I guess I better turn in so I can be well rested for all that. It’ll be nice to have some help around the church again.” He ran a hand through his thinning blonde hair. “I suppose neither you or Zellie is going to come to the picnic? It used to be your favorite part of the Fourth.”

  Actually, Zellie had liked going, but Melody had always wished she could be off with her friends celebrating and not hanging out at church watching old people dribble mustard and hot dog juice down the fronts of their polyester shirts. But, apart from going to visit Raleigh, it wasn’t like she had anything else to do during the day tomorrow. She decided to throw her old man a bone.

  “I’ll be there. I don’t know what Zel’s plans are.”

  “Good enough.” He went to the doorway. “’Night, Melody.”

  “’Night Dad.”

  “Remember to say your prayers.”

  “I always do.”

  He turned back around with a look of surprise on his face. “You do?”

  She smiled at him. “Pastor’s kids get extra hell time if they don’t, right?”

  Her dad feigned contemplation for a second. “I don’t know. I’ll have to check with my boss.”

  Chapter Ten

  Avery drove the Jeep into the dimly lit middle cinder block stall of the Do-It-To-It-Yourself carwash. The place was deserted. I’d been thinking we’d hit up a drive-thru and get something to eat since we’d missed dinner and then move on to more romantic exploits, but it was still his birthday for a few more hours. If he wanted to wash his car, I wasn’t going to complain.

  While he took the sleeping bag from the back and went to air it out over the chain link fence at the edge of the carwash, I went to the vending machine and got us a couple bags of Combos and a Sprite to share.

  “Dinner is served,” I said, handing him the bag of pizza flavored nuggets, his favorite.

  “Why, thank you, my dear.” He popped a couple in his mouth. “Exquisite.”

  We leaned against the side of the car, chomping away on junk food.

  Avery took a hearty drink of pop and swallowed, looking at me sidelong. “How much danger am I in this time?” he asked.

  I crammed a handful of Combos in my mouth, delaying the conversation.

  Avery nudged my hip with his. “Hey, I can take it. I’ve been shot and had my neck broken, remember? Let me in on what’s going on.”

  “What makes you think that something is going on?”

  He snorted a laugh. “Did I or did I not just help transport a dying person in my car? I saw all those looks that you and Mel were giving each other. Raleigh isn’t just a Wes-trying-to-escape-from-Mildred screw up.”

  Damn.

  I took his empty bag from him and tossed our trash in the metal barrel at the end of the stall. It was already risky for Melody and I to talk about anything that wasn’t strictly vision and rewind related. He was just going to have to trust me. “There’s nothing going on.” I held out my hand. “Gimme some quarters and I’ll start the soap and water up.”

  He paused and studied my expression. I smiled and poked his chest with my outstretched hand. “Quarters, s’il vous plait.”

  “Nuh-uh,” he said walking over to the machine on the wall. “It’s my birthday. I get to wash the car. You can vacuum after.”

  “Ha!” I said as I walked over and slammed the back door of the Jeep closed. “That’s an empty threat. I know you like vacuuming more than washing.”

  He plugged quarters into the machine and it whirred to life. “Yes, but you like it less and I have to punish you somehow for not talking.”

  If the boy wanted me to vacuum out his car, which he would vacuum out “better” after I was done anyway, in exchange for me not having to talk, I figured that was a pretty good deal.

  Avery untangled the water hose from the mess the last customer had left it in and aimed the nozzle at the roof of the Jeep, wetting the whole thing. I stepped away from the car to avoid getting splashed and went to stand by the wall.

  He walked around to the opposite side of the car, dragging the hose behind him, rinsing all the dirt from our trip to Bend down the metal grate in the carwash floor.

  “Hey, Zel,” Avery called.

  “Yeah?” I looked over at him just in time to see him aim the stream of water at me. My t-shirt got soaked through.

  “Avery Adams!” I said. The air had cooled off significantly in the last hour and the water was freezing cold. Instant nips. For reals. I pulled the shirt from my stomach. It made a very unladylike fart sound.

  Avery laughed and sang “Happy Birthday” under his breath.

  I ran to the wall and grabbed the soap paddle, priming it to get it good and foamy. Then I hurried around the side of the Jeep and planted a sopping rectangle right in the middle of Avery’s back.

  He stopped and shrugged. “Make sure you get the grill. There are lots of bugs on it.”

  Yeah right, like I was stupid enough to fall for that.

  I moved the paddle down and stamped his butt. He pivoted quickly and shot me in the chest again.

  Now it was my turn to shrug. I dropped the paddle and peeled the t-shirt off over my head, wiggling my eyebrows at him.

  He flicked the stream of water over my lower half, shooting me in the crotch.

  “Guess the shorts will have to go too,” he said, grinning like a big goof.

  I wrinkled my nose in mock disgust. “And your shirt. It’s all soapy.”

  He flung the hose down onto the floor and was standing right in front of me in two long strides, encircling my waist with his arms. I pressed my mouth to his, teasing his tongue with mine. He spun us and pushed me back against the car, trailing kisses across my collarbone. Running the fingertips of his left hand up my arm, he slipped my bra strap down. His mouth moved lower.

  “We’ve got kind of a water thing going on, huh?” I b
reathed, watching him slide his face toward my bare breast.

  He looked up at me. “We’ve got kind of an I freakin’ love you thing going on.”

  I arched my back, expecting to feel one of the best sensations in the world.

  Instead I got a nose-full of pine. Frickety frack. I looked around the stall, hoping maybe I’d missed a ginormous air-freshener display. Nope.

  Taking Avery by the shoulders, I gently eased him away from me. “Sorry.”

  I walked across the lawn behind the church toward the table where the congregation had all placed their potluck items. I was carrying a big bowl full of Dad’s famous potato salad. The secret was a splash of pickle juice in the dressing. I set the bowl down on top of the red, white, and blue tablecloth in the space the women’s bible study group had designated.

  “I’m glad you decided to join us, Zel,” my dad said, placing his hand on the middle of my back and tugging the top of my sundress up to cover the scar I’d gotten from being run over by Avery’s truck. That’s what passed for affection between us these days. Even something I considered a badge of honor, the visible proof that I’d died and come back, embarrassed him.

  I took a chance and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m glad I came too.”

  “Zellie, honey, could you run down to the kitchen and get some more serving spoons?” Colleen Carlton asked. “Not everyone brings one ‘cause they think they won’t get it back, which is silly. I watch this table like a hawk.”

  “Sure.” I meandered through the crowd, crossing the parking lot and going into the back door of the church. The kitchen was in the basement near dad’s office. I grabbed all the spoons that were left in the utensil holder next to the stove and made my way upstairs.

  Back out in the parking lot, I fell into step next to Dory Knapp and her mother Cybil, who Dory was pushing in a wheelchair. Dory was huffing and puffing, her plump face red as a beet and sweating. In comparison, Mrs. Knapp was very thin and very still. She was wasting away. She had Alzheimer’s. Mom and I had gone to visit her on one of our Sundays when we used to do that sort of thing.