Living Violet

by Jaime Reed

  I crawled out of bed, went to the dresser, and conducted a face-off with my reflection. The flickers of light around my corneas told me I had its attention. I can’t explain how awkward and absurd it was to converse with one’s personal demon, so I won’t try. I just knew it was necessary to get everything out in the open. Caleb explained the principle of recognition the best he could, but it was something one could only experience firsthand. I started off with a simple introduction.

  “Lilith?” I called.

  An icy chill trickled down my spine in response. I took a deep breath, knowing my suspicion was confirmed. This was Nadine’s spirit, which meant it already had a name.

  “If it’s all right with you, can I still call you Lilith?” I asked. “I think Nadine would like that.”

  Another tingle zipped my spinal cord.

  “Okay, Lilith, my name is Samara, but you can call me—” Before I could finish, an image flashed in front of my eyes.

  I now stood by the barista machine at the café with the sound of perking coffeepots and steam hissing in the air. Wiping the sweat from my forehead, I noticed my creamy white arm and a blond ponytail that fell over my left shoulder. Looking up, I saw a young girl approaching the counter, with black eyes and fidgeting hands. Her hair was curly with a red and white racing stripe on one side of the head. Despite the apparent unease, she looked excited about her first day. Her high chin exemplified strength and courage toward any challenge that may come. On the spot, I knew I would like this person, and I knew my spirit would benefit from her presence.

  The girl extended her hand and said, “You must be Nadine. Linda said you’d be the one who’ll show me the ropes. I’m Samara, but you can call me Sam.”

  It was hard seeing one’s self from the outside—a direct externalization a mirror failed to accomplish. A torrent of information rushed to the forefront, flooding my brain with emotions and opinions that weren’t mine.

  This spirit knew me, long before I ever knew her. She had loved and grieved as I did, conveying humility that would never lose value. This was an intelligent life form inside me, cognizant of its origin and its past. I had to respect its power and embrace it as my own.

  The vibration stopped for several moments as if waiting for a response or command. Her obvious discipline and eagerness to try gave me hope. In order to coincide, in order for me to live a normal life, we had to work together. And it was now up to me to open the lines of communication.

  “All right, Lilith, it’s just you and me now. I’ll try my best to do right by you. But you’re in my house now, and I have a few rules we need to get straight.”

  A READING GROUP GUIDE

  LIVING VIOLET

  Jaime Reed

  ABOUT THIS GUIDE

  The following questions are intended to enhance your group’s reading of LIVING VIOLET.

  Discussion Questions

  1. The story is told through Sam’s point of view. How might the book differ if the story was told in Caleb’s point of view or in third person?

  2. The narration gives a slight satirical view of the paranormal world. How do you think the story would have been told through a more serious tone?

  3. Do the stories mentioned in the book meetings have relevance in the story as a whole? If so, in what way?

  4. Would the story have had a different impact if the main character was white? If so, how?

  5. Is there a parallel between the demon-human inner struggle and the racial inner struggle in the story?

  6. Sam admits to feeling like an outsider because she’s biracial. Have you ever felt like an outsider? How did you overcome it?

  7. Sam’s view on love is greatly influenced by her family and friends. Do your family and friends influence your beliefs on love? Are they positive or negative? Is your view like Sam’s? Why or why not?

  8. Caleb battles with many issues: self-control, overindulgence, acceptance, and the fear of opening himself to another person. Have you ever battled with these issues? How?

  9. Do the existence of souls and the consumption of life have deeper meaning? What’s your take on it?

  10. What do you think it would be like to consume the life and memories of someone you know? What would you do with that power?

  11. Was Nadine’s outcome at the end of the story necessary?

  12. How do you think Sam will handle the transformation?

  13. Does anyone else (besides me) wish for an invite to one of Robbie Ford’s parties?

  14. Who is your favorite character? Who is your least favorite character?

  15. If you had a sentient being, what would you name it? What color would your eyes be? Why?

  Turn the page for an excerpt from

  Burning Emerald.

  In stores in June 2012.

  It surprised me how things stayed the same at Buncha Books, much like how cartoon characters never aged or changed clothes.

  Fusion jazz pumped through the speakers. A group of girls giggled and read steamy paperbacks from the erotica section. Young entrepreneurs hovered over their laptops, abusing the free Wi-Fi the store provided. Old men who mistook the bookstore for a rest home hogged all the sofas while reading the newspaper. Yep, business as usual at Buncha Books, set under a thick aroma of fresh cookies and hot espresso.

  Alicia Holloway was on duty with me at the café, perky and animated as ever, which put a damper on my afternoon. Her elfin face, hopeful brown eyes, and spiral curls always reminded me of a black woodland sprite who couldn’t find her way home. She stood by the barista machine, watching a tin of hot milk bubble with foam.

  “I’m not judging or anything, but it’s just weird,” she began, concerning the unlikely attraction between Caleb and me. “Isn’t there, like, a rule somewhere about not dating your co-workers?”

  “Isn’t there, like, a rule about minding your own business?” I mocked while toweling off my wet hands, taking extra care to dry the gold bracelet on my wrist. I rotated the chain so the nameplate stood face-up, and Lilith, my internal roommate, hummed on recognizing her name engraved in elegant script.

  Alicia let out a shrill meow and set a row of fixed drinks on the coffee bar. “Somebody forgot to bring their charm to work. I’m just saying, you should be more low-key. People talk, you know.”

  I watched her rush to the register to ring up the next customer. “Yeah, like people are talking in school about your tragic romance with Garrett Davenport.”

  “What!” she squeaked, dropping the customer’s change. She quickly apologized, then turned to me with alarm. “What did you hear?”

  Shifting my lips left and right, I crooned, “Oh, stuff. Like you and him secretly dating before he died and now all three Courtneys want your head on a platter, that’s all. You’re making enemies in high places. Be careful. Girls in our school are vicious.”

  Lifting her chin high, she poured coffee mix and ice in the blender. “I’m not scared of them.”

  My gaze wandered to the book floor and I smiled. “Oh, so if say, Courtney B. rolled up right now, you wouldn’t be scared?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Good to know, because she’s heading to the counter right now.”

  By the time I turned around, Alicia was a ghost with the blender still running. Only the swinging door of the back kitchen told me where she disappeared. After finishing the drink order for her, I took my time going to the register and prayed for patience while in contact with the redheaded diva.

  Decked out in designer labels from head to toe, Courtney B. approached the counter with a strut only suitable for the runway. All that was missing was the wind machine and the slow motion camera. The three Courtneys were renowned in my school for their reign of tyranny, and Courtney B. ruled as the bloodsucking queen of the dammed. Aside from her being painfully vapid, she owned the unmatched talent of squeezing insults into every conversation. Succeeding in working my last nerve could very well be considered an achievement, but for fear of getting fired, I decided to limi
t my responses to two words or less.

  Her handbag thumped on the counter while she scanned around for the prey that vanished from sight. Disappointed, her icy gray eyes narrowed at me. “Hi. You’re in my Spanish class. Sam, right?”

  “Sí,” I said, deadpan. I couldn’t believe this chick. We’ve shared at least two classes since sixth grade and she still didn’t know my name?

  “Is that, like, short for Samantha?”

  “No.” I pointed to my nametag.

  “Oh. My bad. Anyway, you know that hot guy that works here, Caleb something?” She looked around the store.

  Tapping my finger to my lips, I contemplated. “Six-foot-two, brown hair, purple-blue eyes, always smells like cake? Yeah, that would be my boyfriend.” I stressed the last word.

  “Oh!” She looked surprised for a moment, appalled even, then swept a cursory glance up my frame. “Well, maybe you can help. I was wondering if you could talk him into deejaying my party on Halloween. He did such a great job at Robbie Ford’s birthday party; I’d love to have him, um, spin for me.” She twirled a lock of hair around her manicured finger.

  I should be used to women drooling all over my man, but that required more patience than I could afford. “I’ll be sure to run it by him, but it would be more businesslike coming from you. You can find him in the music section. That way.” I pointed to the other end of the store using my middle finger, a gesture too blatant to overlook.

  Applying loud suction, Courtney slid her tongue over her teeth, perhaps to see if her fangs elongated. “Thanks. Doesn’t seem to be your kind of thing, but I’ll see if I can add you to the guest list too.” With a neck-spraining flip of the hair, she flounced away.

  Resting my weight against the counter, I exhaled slowly, absorbing the sting of her verbal attack. This was an interesting turn of events. Courtney’s Halloween bashes were the talk of school, but unlike Robbie Ford, her parties were for A-list only. Mia would be so jealous if I got an invite before she did. The only downside was subjecting Caleb to that harpy’s whims.

  This was a good opportunity for him. Soon he would leave his position here to “scratch” with full force, but his budding deejay career already left us juggling schedules to see each other. Music was the mistress in our union, the only love I didn’t mind sharing with him.

  “Is she gone?” A timid voice called from the back kitchen.

  When I confirmed, Alicia crept out, and a wash of relief ran across her face. I shook my head, knowing this doe-eyed sophomore needed more life experience and pessimism to survive high school. The mother hen in me wanted to keep her innocence intact, so my watchful eyes were never far from her.

  Seeing her trepidation, I said, “If it gets too bad, you have my number, okay?”

  “Thanks.” She gave me a weak smile and went back to the register.

  Though I only worked a few five-hour shifts during the weekdays, time seemed to run at a snail’s pace. Alicia tried her best to entertain me with the latest gossip, but it didn’t seem the same with Nadine gone. Nothing was the same with her gone.

  I found myself comparing Alicia to Nadine, noting how she took forever to wrap the food when we closed, where it would only take Nadine ten minutes. Alicia chatted and laughed with the customers, where one was considered lucky if they got service, let alone a smile, from Nadine. Alicia was an old friend and I would flip out if something happened to her, but the injustice prevailed.

  After shutdown, I clocked out at customer service then ambled to the break room in an almost dream-like state. Our monthly book meeting was tonight, which was reason enough to wallow in sorrow, but seeing where Nadine once sat deepened my depression another notch. A part of me expected to see her pass through the door, her blond hair bobbing behind her head in a haphazard bun.

  The staff’s seating arrangement was an unspoken rule, so I wasn’t the only one who paused at the empty folding chair by the soda machine. Even Linda, the store manager, shifted her eyes to the chair, as if an unholy curse awaited anyone who sat there.

  “It’s just a chair, Sam. It’s not haunted,” Caleb said as he guided me to a seat and sat next to me. His smile produced broad dimples, two parentheses buried deep in his cheeks. His maple tresses fell past his jaw and slightly curled at the ends. Behind the curtain of locks, his eyes brightened to a blazing amethyst hue, a color that projected his mood and his spirit’s needs.

  “Not the chair, just us,” I mumbled as my mind drifted again.

  Even if I knew all that would happen that fateful night, would it make a difference? If Nadine hadn’t died in my arms, Lilith wouldn’t have needed to abandon ship and move into my crib. Maybe Lilith was her farewell gift, a small consolation that numbed the ache of her loss.

  Nadine’s life energy—the ones that came with Lilith—eventually dissolved, but her memories were kept on file for safekeeping—every birthday party, every bedtime story, every wild adventure, save one. It was strange how every facet of Nadine’s life opened at the ready to me, all but that tiny blank spot of her history, a scene spliced during post-production.

  To say Nadine was a jaded woman would be a blatant understatement, but even she loved deeply at some point, a memory that was hard to penetrate. This feeling I detected was far more dangerous than the ones she had for her family, a love that those with good sense shouldn’t have for a faceless man. So it shocked me that someone with a fairly decent, albeit morbid, head on her shoulders would entertain such mush. And not tell me about it! We used to tell each other everything.

  Even in death, the pain of that relationship wouldn’t release its hold. The dull throb was there, like a bruise I couldn’t remember attaining, so it had to be hers. That single, minute detail prevented me from finding closure, and I kept picking that scab until it bled. Time might patch it up, but the open wounds remained untreated and at risk of infection.

  The mystery entertained me through the meeting to the point where Caleb shook me to attention when it was over. I completely lost track of time, not to mention I didn’t get to share my book. While the crew filed out of the door, Alicia tossed me a parting glance, grinning in triumph.

  Caleb extended his hand, helping me to my feet.

  “What did I miss?” I asked.

  “Alicia got her wish. Specter: Part III got voted book of the month. She went through a ten-minute dissertation of the intricacies of having a ‘totally hot’ ghost boyfriend.” Caleb mimicked Alicia’s squeaky voice perfectly. “You know there’s a movie coming out about it?”

  “I heard.” I collected my bag then followed him out.

  Wishing everyone good night, I stepped into the cool night with Caleb practically stuck to my back. His arm wrapped around my waist and squeezed, lifting me off the ground. I squealed, which caused the crew to leer at us from the parking lot as he carried me to his jeep.

  A honking horn came from a blue SUV driving by. “Get a room!” Alicia yelled from the passenger side window as her dad drove her away.

  “That’s not such a bad idea,” Caleb whispered in my ear before kissing the back of my neck.

  I wiggled against his hold. “That’s it. You are unfit to be in my company, sir.”

  “Aw, come on! Don’t be that way.”

  “Unhand me, contemptible cur! Else purge such lechery from thine purpose, you nave!”

  Snorting a laugh, he set me down. “All right, Lady Macbeth, have it your way.”

  I pressed against his car door and frowned.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I rubbed my eyes with the ball of my hand. “Nothing. I’ve got a lot on my mind. And I didn’t get to share my book.”

  He leaned into me, getting good and comfortable, not in the slightest rush to leave. “Share it with me. What’s it called?”

  I put a finger to my lips. “Shh.”

  He looked around the parking lot. “What?”

  “No, that’s the title, Shh,” I explained. “It’s about angels and the battle between Heaven and Hell. Accord
ing to Hebrew myth, an angel enters the womb of every unborn child and places a finger over the lips. They silence the baby from revealing the secrets of Heaven, including God’s true name. The proof of that secret is that small dint in your top lip.” My finger danced over the outline of his mouth, making him shiver. I could tell he felt the gravitation, a pull rooting from the chest, joining our two magnets together.

  Dropping my hand, I continued. “Anyway, this autistic boy doesn’t have that dimple. He’s a mute, but he’s been leaking secrets all through his writing and artwork. A group of angels come to Earth to kill the kid, because once heard out loud, humanity will remember the secrets told to them and all of Hell will break lose, literally. It’s a race against time because the kid starts mumbling in class out of nowhere.”

  “Sounds good! Let me borrow that when you’re done.” His lids grew heavy as he inched closer.

  I tried to push off his jeep, but his nearness made it impossible. He was stalling, squeezing a few more minutes alone with me, but our time was running out.

  “Did you want to come over to my place for a bit? I made a new playlist that you haven’t heard—” He stopped mid-sentence when I flashed my bracelet in his face.

  The gold chain shimmered under the parking lot lights, creating a sufficient force field against his libido.

  Caleb’s shoulders slumped under the weight of defeat. “I thought that was only activated for emergencies.”

  “So did I, but Mom’s got it hot wired to her laptop to track where I am. Cambion or not, my curfew still applies until I’m eighteen and out the house. It’s just a safety measure. Can’t be too careful these days.” I offered him a gentle smile.