On the Fringe

by Courtney King Walker

  I took a deep breath, trying to absorb the cool air into my lungs as her big, brown eyes watched me eagerly, looking for answers. “I don’t know if this makes sense, but I think something happened between us the night you drowned. When I brought you back, it was like it is right now—like I was alive again, right? So I’m guessing you must’ve brought something back from the dead with you, something that lets us connect like this.”

  “Seriously?” Claire asked, looking doubtful.

  “Yes. I think something happens to us every night at the exact time you drowned, which was right after ten-o’clock, according to your watch.”

  Hearing it from my own mouth sounded even crazier. She acted like she was going to speak, but didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t blame her.

  “It’s like a four-and-a-half-minute breach through a barrier, or something,” I said.

  “A four-and-a-half what?”

  “How long we can communicate. At least that’s my guess. I think it’s how long you were dead before I saved you.”

  “Really?” she said, shifting slightly. “Four and a half minutes? Talk about…I don’t know…strange, crazy, unbelievable.” She let out a little laugh. “I guess it’s better than four minutes.”

  I didn’t know what else to say, especially when I realized how much I just loved being next to her.

  “Wait—what happened Saturday morning?” she asked, her whole body stiffening. “Were you there in my room? Did you see it? It was something…something creepy…like a ghost.”

  “Ghost?” I asked, confused.

  “I don’t know, but it’s the same thing I saw in my kitchen right after I drowned…you don’t have any idea what I’m talking about?”

  I must have been shaking my head.

  “I don’t know how to explain it, Daniel. I thought you’d know. But since you don’t, maybe next time, if there is a next time, which I’m hoping there isn’t, you can see for yourself. Because something keeps coming into my house, and whatever it is, it’s keeping me up at night and I’m a basket case at school. Not to mention snoring, in the middle of class–”

  “Claire,” I said, worried but trying not to let on, wondering if Mr. Psycho Ghost had somehow reached her without me knowing. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure it out. Okay?”

  She did look exhausted with big, gray half-circles underlining her eyes. What was she talking about? What happened? I wanted to ask her to describe it, but didn’t want to waste any more of our four and a half minutes.

  Smiling, she tilted her head up. “Four and a half minutes is all we have? That’s it? Maybe I should’ve stayed dead longer.”

  “Funny,” I said, pulling her to me, feeling once again all those emotions that reminded me how much I missed being alive. Would this teeny slice of happiness be worth the upcoming letdown lasting fourteen hundred some-odd minutes? I wasn’t sure. Not yet.

  Claire still seemed to be searching, her mind running a million miles an hour. No wonder she couldn’t sleep. “Can you see me all the time?” she asked, like she just randomly skipped to another chapter.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you supposed to watch over me, like are you my guardian angel, or something? And where do you hang out all the time? How do you get around?”

  I wanted to laugh at her—for the sudden impression of being at a job interview. It was kind of cute. But when I looked down at her watch and saw our time almost gone, I started to panic…and without even thinking, I felt my head slowly moving toward hers.

  Back when I was alive, I would’venever made a move on Matthew’s little sister. He’d have killed me, for sure. But death had already changed me. Now I really couldn’tcare less what anyone else thought.

  I brought my fingers to Claire’s cheek as an unfamiliar sensation of nerves and emotions twisted inside me…

  And then I kissed her.

  Claire

  I held my breath and willed the world to suspend its rotation when his lips touched mine. I’d just been thinking of my next question, when he kissed me so suddenly, I gasped. It was soft and serene, like a whisper to the lips. When I realized what was happening, I had to pull back a little to breathe. He looked surprised and disappointed at my pause.

  Wait, hold on!

  Before he could complain, I leaned back into him, eagerly finding his lips again. His hands cradled my head, intertwining his fingers through my hair, pulling just hard enough to hurt a little, and just soft enough to feel good.

  Just as I clasped my hands behind his neck, he pulled away from me and rested his forehead against mine. His hands fell along the sides of my face, crawling down my neck to my shoulders, and finally to my bare arms. Softly, slowly, his lips brushed mine one more time, and then he smiled at me.

  I smiled, too.

  Our connection broke in the next instant, but he was still there.

  Still warm from his touch, I brought my hands to my lips and tried holding on to the lingering memory of his kiss. Behind me, the porch lights flickered at my house, reminding me of my normal life without Daniel—the life with rules and consequences for breaking the rules. Reluctantly I stood up.

  “My mom’s probably wondering where I am,” I said, explaining my departure.

  He nodded, watching me drag my feet up the grassy hill. I faced him while walking backwards, smiling as the feeling of elation bubbled all around me. Right then I wished he could say something else to me—anything. Even reciting my phone number would have felt romantic. I already missed hearing his voice.

  “You’re not going to watch me sleep are you?” I teased. “Not like some creepy ghost-stalker?”

  He smiled and shrugged his shoulders, meaning, no…or maybe? I wasn’t sure, but he definitely looked guilty.

  “Well, you better at least give me some privacy, you know. No peeping-tom business from you,” I said, half kidding, half serious. It was a little freaky knowing he could watch me whenever and wherever.

  He laughed at me, and I think mouthed the word “Okay.” I felt a little guilty after that, because Daniel was obviously not some psycho voyeur just because he happened to be dead. Still, I felt better getting it all out in the open.

  Walking up the steps, I imagined his eyes penetrating my back, and wondered how long he could just stare at something. What was it like to have nothing to do all day long?

  When the front door clicked behind me, the air seemed to instantly dissolve into nothing, my heartbeat relaxing into a quiet rhythm.

  “Where’ve you been, Claire?”

  I looked up to find Mom sitting in the living room, casually watching me over a book she was reading. She had a pair of those teeny glasses resting at the edge of her nose, ready to slide off. Her dark, curly hair fell into her face after a long day at work. She looked like a librarian, the way she sat there eyeing me.

  “Sheez, Mom,” I gasped. “Were you trying to scare me?”

  “You said you’d be home before ten. I was really starting to worry, you know.”

  “I was just… just taking a walk…trying to think. Stuff like that,” I lied, walking right past her through the arched entrance leading into the dark kitchen.

  She closed her book and followed me. “Taking a walk? It’s pitch black, Claire–”

  I stopped and turned to face her wary expression, waiting for a lecture.

  “It’s not smart for you to be out this late by yourself. Especially down by the lake.”

  Was she spying on me?

  “I know, Mom. I was with Addie…most of the time.” It was true, really.

  “Please be more careful from now on.” Mom had probably rehearsed this very conversation in her head at least twenty times tonight while she was waiting for me. “You have to let me know where you are so I don’t sit up and worry all night. I thought we went over this already.”

  That was Mom’s specialty, ever since Daniel had been killed—worrying with a vengeance. Both of my parents were always on alert now, always watching and obsessing a
bout my safety. I understood. But it was still annoying and inconvenient. Especially now that Matthew was away and I was their only target.

  “Okay, sorry,” I said, trying to get around her without another lecture about my dating life.

  “Claire, don’t you think–”

  “’Night, Mom. See you in the morning.” I yawned and practically dove for the dark hallway to make my escape.

  Daniel

  What was I thinking? Obviously I wasn’t.

  After that kiss, I watched Claire climb the steps to her house, and then shifted away. I needed to concentrate for at least two seconds before my runaway emotions took over again. What was I doing?

  I took off running—except it was more like jumping through time as everything passed by me in shifts and spurts. It was mind numbing, exciting, and relaxing all at the same time, and it was exactly what I needed. Blaring lights and the unique sounds of San Francisco greeted me beneath the dark sky. I flew alongside the crowds and blank faces, all of them unaware of me racing by. It was like being the only one on a moving sidewalk, while the rest of the world strolled along at a snail’s pace.

  At the end of a busy street, I walked smack into an oncoming semi-truck. It was as easy and intuitive as blinking, and I felt invincible. It was a familiar sensation—one I’d felt when I was alive, too, up until the moment someone shot me in the head. Now, the rush of danger was still exhilarating as I stood in the middle of the street and let the traffic tear through me over and over again. After getting bored of that, I moved away from the road and glided through a greasy brick wall, plastered with decaying paper. I closed my eyes and shot up through the clouds, leaving the city behind. Soaring across the bay and over the congested roads, I ascended into the shadowy foothills to a mountain that seemed to prop up the moon.

  Even there, I still couldn’t stop thinking about Claire. I’d lost all sense when I kissed her, and now I was doomed to torture myself over and over again with memories of that kiss and her touch. How could I give that up? Would four and a half minutes, one day at a time, be my only chance at all with her? Would it just end up torturing me? I was starting to realize seeing her again would only end up making me want more time with her—time that was not even guaranteed. Hello? I’m dead. Remember?

  But what was time at all without her? That was the point, wasn’t it? To spend time with her? No, that was not the point. You’re just supposed to watch over her, not fall in love with her. How could "life" still be so complicated after death?

  Done flying through the sky, I descended to a snow bank while checking out the world, feeling so small compared to the rest of the universe. My problems were nothing next to everything else. Who was I? Who was I kidding?

  As I stood there drowning in confusion, a strange, cold sensation started intruding into my thoughts, making it impossible to think straight. It felt like I was being pulled away from this place, like my mind was being stretched in two different directions. I closed my eyes and tried to ignore it, as if that would somehow block it out. But the feeling only grew stronger.

  What was going on?

  And then, before I even said her name, I knew.

  Claire.

  In a second I was back at Hidden Lake on the front porch next to the haunting, fluted chimes. Sharp chills shocked me like electricity, and my first reaction was to search the neighborhood, then the lake, and the street—just like last time. But the further I drifted away, the fainter the chills became.

  That was when I realized somethingwas inside the house.

  Claire

  Sleep evaded me as usual. Once again, I couldn’t stop thinking about Daniel. His voice echoed in my ears and mind, the feel of his hands and lips still overwhelming me. This time, I consciously fought sleep just to be able to relive being with him again and again, and as the euphoria flooded through me, I found myself smiling in the dark.

  Until the night took a horrifying detour, and my eyes suddenly popped open.

  “Ssssrooophhhh.”

  What was that?

  I held my breath, listening, but the only sound I could hear was the tick-tock of the clock across the room—that was, of course, if you didn’t count my own heart thumping loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.

  “Ssssrooophhhh.”

  Now it sounded like a deep, throaty snake. I held still for one tortuous, extended, moment, waiting…waiting…

  “Ssssrooophhhh.”

  It was getting closer, and I didn’t know what to do. Peeking over the mountain of pillows I’d piled on top of me, I surveyed the room.

  Nothing.

  The clock continued to tick. Outside, an owl hoo’ed or hooted or did whatever they do, which was when I realized I should get up and close the window. But I was too scared to move. A shivery breeze wafted in through the open window, capturing and randomly entangling the long flowing curtains. But this time it just looked like normal wind. My muscles relaxed a little as I waited and watched, deliberating whether or not to risk leaving my bed to shut the window.

  “Ssssrooophhhh,” it hissed again, now sounding less like a snake and more like the blubbering squeal of a deflating balloon.

  Was it back again? The ghost…that thing?

  I jumped up, only making it to the end of my bed, my knees protesting the entire time. Fear seemed to be seeping from me like slow poison, preventing me from thinking clearly. I felt like I was stuck on an island, sharks swimming all around me, just waiting for me to slip up.

  “Ssssrooophhhh.”

  This time the hissing noise was much louder, and not only sent shivers up my spine, but also seemed to send those shivers, like daggers, straight into my back.

  Forget the window. All I wanted now was to get out of my room. But when I turned around, hovering in front of me was another revolving ribbon-like smudge of black, but much bigger and darker than before. It pulsated through the air like something out of a science fiction movie as it made its strange sound, hissing and sucking, almost like it could see me—like it was watching me.

  I waited for a scream to find its way out of my mouth, but it never came. Instead, I held my breath and watched the ribbon expand and lengthen like taffy being pulled. I was mesmerized by its eerie motion, immovable like in a real nightmare where your legs refuse to work. I wanted to run away, to scream out loud, to turn on the light and make whatever it was go away, but some unseen power seemed to hold me in place, binding me with invisible cords. My mind had shut down, like some kind of darkness was overtaking my senses. I could feel myself wilting as an icy hand began to wrap itself around my throat…

  “Claire,” I heard my name, though it sounded distant and far away.

  I couldn’t see anymore. My room seemed to disappear, and all I knew was a black, cold, pain taking over, climbing up my neck.

  I gasped.

  “It’s okay,” the voice spoke again, this time more in my head. It seemed familiar and warm, but still beyond my reach. “I’m right here.”

  But the darkness was still too thick, until I heard music in my head. It sounded so familiar…a melody repeating itself over and over again, reminding me of my childhood. And then a simple thought emerged from the muddy depths of my mind, forming a clear impression that told me to listen more carefully.

  I managed to match the music with a person, then zeroed in on a face; a face with dark hair falling into darker eyes, a pair of dimples, a mesmerizing smile, and a smooth, calming laugh…

  Daniel.

  Soon, a dim light was crawling out of the shadows, casting the rest of the darkness away. I felt myself starting to regain control, able to breathe again, and my eyes opened just as the shadowy ghost started to fade. I went to the light switch and flipped it on, the yellowish hue overhead nearly blinding me. By then, the dark ribbon had thinned down to almost nothing, and finally disappeared into the wall.

  I felt like I’d been crying, but was too tired to even wonder why, and climbed back into bed, burying myself in the covers. After a
few minutes, I flipped to my other side, and was slightly startled to find Daniel sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand next to mine.

  So he had been here, after all. Somehow, I knew he must have helped me.

  I reached for his hand, even though it sailed right through, into the pillow. I wanted to talk to him and ask him what happened, but was too tired. Maybe tomorrow, after my mind had a chance to untangle itself from the confusion that was now a normal part of my life. Right then, I felt mixed-up because even though Daniel was right there beside me, I felt painfully alone.

  Daniel

  Chills attacked me when I shifted into the house. Something was there—something stale and rotten like the stench of garbage. I followed the trail of decay down the hallway and into Claire’s room.

  She wasn’t asleep or even under the covers, but was clinging to the edge of the bed, transfixed in the moonlight, its pale glow falling across her face and through the room, illuminating an unwanted visitor. Her eyes seemed glued open, shocked at the psycho ghostdrifting toward her and calling her name. I could feel her terror floating toward me, filling the room with fear.

  Yet, I wondered if Claire was seeing something different than me, because I didn’t really think there was anything scary about him—even after our encounter at the lake. Sure, he rambled nonsense and wore way too much black, but right now he looked about as threatening as I did, except maybe he was even a little shorter. Really, he bore no resemblance to any of the ghosts in horror movies—no hanging skin or protruding bones, nothing like that. So what was the deal? What did Claire see?

  As the ghost watched me out of the corner of his eye, I went to her. At first, he seemed surprised to see me, but then a smirk formed on his lips, almost like he was glad I’d arrived. I tried sliding in front of him, blocking his way, but he ignored me, focusing all his attention on Claire.

  What was he doing?

  I was too fresh, too green to know what to do. Still, I wasn’t about to give up. I had to figure out how to help her, even if it meant just staying with her no matter what happened. What could happen? He was just a ghost, right?