The embarrassment evolves into annoyance. I turn around. The girls sit in the back row, so close their perfectly curled long hair mingles together into one big caramel-colored ringlet. Rapunzel would be envious. Seems they coordinate their hair as well as their outfits—one is wearing a light-pink polo shirt while the other one’s in powder blue.
“The name’s Keira. And if you even had a shred of decency, you’d be more concerned about Jimmy than you are about whether or not someone had a crush on him.”
The girls gape. I’m sad to say I know their names, but then I have been in their class since middle school. Sara Morgen sinks low in her seat. Her friend, Jo Thompson, stares at me indignantly.
“We were having a private conversation!” Jo says, flipping her hair.
Jimmy’s leaning on a desk, wide-eyed. “I had no idea those girls were so bitchy.”
“Aren’t they your friends?” I ask under my breath. The kid in the next seat, Marty, gives me a funny look.
“Not really. They can’t talk to you like that.” He frowns at them. “Hey...you don’t really have the hots for me, do you?”
I splutter in a way that attracts more unwanted attention. Face burning, I cough a couple of times and clear my throat. Jimmy watches me with a wry smile.
He is—was—a catch, as Grandie would say. In general, hot guys don’t pay any attention to me. And I’m not the kind of girl who goes out of her way to get guys to sit up and take notice. If they really want me, they’re going to have to find me.
That probably also explains why I haven’t been out on a date in months.
Strangely, I don’t want Jimmy to know any of this. I scrawl on a notepad, “In your dreams, buddy.”
He reads the note and nods, but I can’t help feel like there’s a disappointment in his eyes. He ponders on something for a while, then snaps his fingers. “I can hook you up with someone.”
“Really?” I say in a flat tone. Marty looks at me like I should be in a straitjacket. Wincing, I tell him, “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“Cramming? I hear you,” he says. “If you ever wanna study together, though...”
I stare at him uncomprehendingly for a second.
He’s hitting on me.
Flustered, I try to string a few words together, but end up gulping air.
Jimmy stands in the aisle and gestures at Marty. “If he ever had to choose between you and World of Warcraft, you’d lose. Nope, you want someone sensitive, but not a schmuck. Arty. Smart, but not a smart-ass. Moody, but not a buzzkill. Genetically blessed with good looks—”
Pressing my pen down as hard as I can, I write, “Can we just focus on the test?”
“Ooh, I’ve hit a nerve!” He laughs.
I scowl. Jimmy’s so transparent. He’s just described his own brother. And like always, the thought of Dan brings a rumbling sense of precariousness. Like I’m standing on the edge of a bungee platform. Even though I know every kind of safety mechanism is in place, the fear of falling won’t leave me.
The less I think about Dan, the better.
* * *
It turns out three days of cramming transformed me into a modern history genius.
“Impressive,” Jimmy says when I finish writing a complex answer to a complex question on the development of the European Union. Not long afterwards, he drifts to the door. “You’ve passed so far. I’m gonna check on someone. Be back before the next bell.”
His departure throws me. I’ve already grown attached to him and the loss actually feels like an acute pain in my chest.
“Problem, Miss Nolan?” asks Ms. Surrey. She stares at me with raised eyebrows.
I take my gaze off the door Jimmy just sailed through. “No, just...just thinking.”
“Eyes on your paper, Miss Nolan. This is an exam, in case you need a reminder.”
I grimace, and read the next question on the fall of the Berlin Wall. Ten questions later, I’m done and Jimmy hasn’t made a return appearance.
Five minutes before the bell, I start to sweat. Where could he be? Has he found another clairvoyant—maybe a more popular celebrity clairvoyant—to guide him through these early days of his afterlife? Maybe he saw the Light and decided not to turn back? He somehow mistook my bedroom for paradise and through some strange glitch in the universe, I was able to see him and talk to him, but now he’s moving on to something better.
And good for him. Moving on is the right thing.
He could’ve at least said goodbye.
Keira, where are you?
My head snaps up. That’s Jimmy’s voice. But I can’t see him anywhere. In fact, it sounds like he’s...talking underwater.
Oh, God. Where is he? Panicked, I look around the room. All but a few kids are still working feverishly on the paper in these last minutes of the period. We’re all supposed to remain quiet until everyone has finished. My chair scrapes as I shift impatiently, earning a sharp glance from Ms. Surrey.
Keira! I need you!
The fear in his disembodied voice makes my blood chill. I glare at the clock above the whiteboard, willing it, daring it to move faster. Is he trapped somewhere, somehow?
It’s impossible to sit a second longer. I slap my paper down on Ms. Surrey’s desk and bolt like I’m being chased by the hounds of hell. She shouts after me but I don’t turn back.
Don’t leave me!
“I won’t, Jimmy. It’s okay,” I whisper. I have no way of knowing if he can hear me. In any case, he doesn’t answer directly. He just shouts my name again.
Students migrate from classes and fill the hallway. Their chatter drowns out Jimmy’s voice. If I could go somewhere quiet for a minute and try to focus on Jimmy, try to work out where he is... I gravitate toward the red swinging entrance doors. Without bothering to check over my shoulders for hall monitors and teachers, I run out. Nothing outside but redwoods and birds. And the overwhelming algae smell.
“Jimmy?” I call out softly. Pine needles crunch under my feet. Parked by the curb out front is an unoccupied sheriff’s car. I give it a backwards glance on my way to the parking lot. Just as well the driver of the cop car is nowhere in sight. I don’t want to get arrested for ditching school. Not when a ghost needs my help.
* * *
Jimmy’s anguished voice leads me to Camberwell Forest, about five miles out of town. It’s a place popular with high school kids. That is, until the megamall was built. With no regard for the faded white lines painted on the parking lot’s asphalt, I park askew, almost side-swiping the only other car—a dark blue Mercedes. Rusty door hinges creak as I climb out. Every day I lose a little piece of the VW Bug. The antenna flew clean off last week somewhere over Bridge Street.
The gleaming curves of the Mercedes look positively futuristic compared to my car. Even through the dark tinted windows I can see it’s unoccupied. A closer look shows an empty water bottle and pretzels spilling onto the leather passenger seat.
Keira, come quick! Jimmy sounds crystal clear, as though he’s talking directly into my ear. I whip around, but the only visible soul belongs to a sunbaking squirrel.
My attention snaps toward the poorly maintained sign that marks the start of a trail and I run straight for it. I don’t have a choice—I’m drawn toward it like a magnet. Deep in the forest is a waterhole. I’ve only been there once, on a date with a senior named Trav. He had wandering hands and not a lot of skill. I was secretly glad when he didn’t call me the next day or the day after that. The most memorable thing about that date was the spectacular waterfall that fed the swimming hole.
Tree roots curl over a track carved out by hundreds of Halverston High seniors over the past decade. This morning’s rainfall makes the ground that much harder to navigate.
But I don’t stop. Can’t. Not until I get to the edge of a clearing, where a gray silhouette stands along the rocky bank alongside the waterfall. The sound of tumbling water roars in my ears. I tentatively take one step and then another. At the same time, the shades of gra
y brighten into full color. I make out the golden hair. Sun-burnished skin, a result of years out on the football field.
“Jimmy,” I call out in a crackly voice.
He turns and meets my gaze. The relief in his eyes is heartbreaking. His clothes are drenched. He runs for me. “I kept yelling out for you. Why the hell did you leave me?”
His arms encircle me, and amazingly I sense the pressure as if he were solid.
“I didn’t! You left me! People to see, you said.”
He wrinkles his brow. “I...I guess I did. But I didn’t find them. I just ended up here again. Somehow.”
I gesture at his wet clothing. “What happened to you?”
“I...I landed in the water. I couldn’t stop it.” He chokes on his words before pulling himself together. In a stronger voice, he says, “Come on. It’s over here.”
The dense trees cocoon us, protect us from the horror that I know is just around the corner. Under our muddy feet, the ground grows progressively rocky.
A shiny black crow circles the trees above, sending a chill down my spine. Grandie always associated crows with death. One of her many superstitions.
Slabs of granite surround the waterhole, massaged smooth by centuries of water rushing down the mountain. The thirty-foot waterfall sprays us, pooling into a deep hole before trickling toward a smaller, less spectacular waterfall. Mini-rainbows project over the falls. The two of us stare into the rippling water. Mine is the only face that reflects back.
“This way,” Jimmy says, tugging on my arm.
My gaze sticks to the ground, but every few feet it strays toward the water. I half-expect to find Jimmy’s body floating on the surface, but instead, it’s clear of any kind of debris. Everything looks as it should. Dragonflies hover. A few leaves spiral down from the trees.
Jimmy points toward the lower falls. There’s no need for any more words. Sidestepping carefully, I make my way downriver along the water’s edge. Soaring cliffs rise up on either side of the waterhole, making me feel like I’m in a giant bowl. Sequoias shade the area, making it an ideal breeding ground for that God-awful algae.
Jimmy gets closer to a fallen branch that’s dangling over the water. “You don’t have to look. Just find Deputy Charlie. Tell him where I am.”
Wincing, I step closer to Jimmy. Or rather, his body. It’s caught up against the branch. From three feet away, I spy what looks like withered twigs. From one foot away, I realize they’re his fingers. Some bent at impossible angles. I glance back at the upper falls, at the natural stone “staircase” daredevils use to climb up to the top so they can dive into the deep water. Did Jimmy jump?
His blue plaid shirt moves with the ebb of rushing water. There’s no blood. No life. He’s face-up in the water. Glassy, hazy pupils are dilated almost to the size of dimes. An odd, fetid smell comes at my nostrils in waves. It overpowers the algae.
“I look like an extra from Dawn of the Dead,” he says.
My stomach roils at the sight of tiny fish picking at the gash in Jimmy’s head. His skin is a pale blue, like marble.
“My folks can’t see me like this. Better to wait till I’m fixed up and in a casket,” Jimmy says dully. “Tell my family to dress me in my Wolves uniform. Helmet, pads. Everything. That’s how I want them to remember me. Not as fish food.”
Together we stand, unable to look away for the longest time. The sound of sudden violent snapping catches our attention.
“Dan!” Jimmy shouts.
Dumbfounded, I watch Dan trudge from the trees, about fifty yards away. His pale face is smeared with dirt. It seems he doesn’t notice me at first, but when he does, his eyes go completely round.
“Keira?” Two bright splotches of color bloom on his cheeks. He moves more purposefully toward me. “What are you doing here?”
In a flash, Jimmy steps in front of me. “Stop him. I don’t want Dan or anybody seeing me. Not like this. Not with me bloated up like some...some blimp.”
Nodding rapidly, I yell out, “Don’t come any closer, Dan!”
He stops short and pushes a fringe of dark blond hair out of his eyes. Emotion simmers underneath his fine cheeks as he raises a trembling finger at the water. “Is...is that what...who I think...it is?”
Jimmy, the real Jimmy, drifts behind his brother. He holds Dan by both arms in an effort to hold him back. An effort that goes unnoticed. Jimmy’s hands strike through the air. “Keira, help me out.”
I run to Dan and use all my strength to spin him around toward the wooded path. The crow circles, its button-like eyes zeroing in on Jimmy’s body. “I’m sorry, Dan! I’m so sorry. Please. Just stay where you are.”
“I’ve been searching for him all night.” Dan fends me off easily. “If that’s Jimmy, I have to see for myself.”
My hands slip down his goose-pimpled arms as I try to lead him away. “Jimmy doesn’t want you to see him like that.”
His blue gaze scorches my face, and I realize my mistake. “What?”
Backtracking, I stammer, “I...I mean, he wouldn’t want you to.”
“Let me pass,” he growls.
“He was badly injured. You just have to trust me. Please.” I push against him so hard my feet slip on the rocks. Dan steadies me. Tears gather on my lashes. I blink them away rapidly but not before a salty drop slides to the corner of my mouth.
For a second Dan falters, then he stalks right by us. “You wouldn’t know what my brother wants.”
Jimmy strides after Dan, grabbing futilely at his brother’s shirt. “Help me stop him!”
How can I do that, short of tackling the guy? He’s determined and pumped full of adrenaline. If our situations were reversed, nothing would stop me from looking at the body, no matter how grisly the scene. I get that Jimmy wants to spare Dan the pain and the finality of seeing his body, but just because he’s dead doesn’t mean Jimmy’s right.
I whisper, “Sorry, Jimmy. I can’t.”
Jimmy stands alongside his brother. Identical expressions of anguish contort their handsome faces. The sound of ragged breathing cuts right into me.
“Oh, Christ, no! No!” Dan’s tormented voice reverberates off the falls. He collapses sobbing on the rocks. Jimmy looks away, perhaps knowing there’s little he can do to comfort Dan. Can’t put an arm around him. Can’t talk to him. “We’ve gotta get him out of there.”
Reason and logic born from years of watching crime dramas jump into my head. “No, we need to call the police. We can’t disturb the scene.”
“The scene?” he says in an incredulous tone. “Screw it. That’s my brother.”
Dan leaps into the water without bothering to remove his shoes or clothing. Jimmy dives in after him. The current fights them as both boy and ghost throw their strength into freeing Jimmy from a heavy branch. I kneel on the embankment. Moisture from the moss seeps through my jeans.
From my perch, I pull on the branch as hard as I can. I fall back. “It won’t budge. We should get Charlie.”
Exhausted, Dan nods. He refuses my hand as he drags himself out of the water. He shakes uncontrollably, but he makes an effort to stand up straight next to me. On his other side, Jimmy does his best to prop him up.
“How did you know?” Dan says in a strained tone. He can’t keep his eyes off the body, so I move between him and the water. Finally, his fiery blue gaze meets mine. Burns my skin. “How...the hell did you know where to find him?”
I glance at Jimmy as if to ask his permission to speak. He’s preoccupied, kneeling by the water with his back to me. Would he want Dan to know he hasn’t left the earthly plane yet? Does Dan believe in life after death?
“Keira. Answer me.”
Studiously watching ants struggle over an obstacle course of moss and rocks on the ground, I say, “I...I just happened to...to be...here. For, um...research.”
“What kind of research?” he demands.
“A-algae.”
Jimmy stands and gives his brother a sorrow-filled look. “You’re a reall
y bad liar, Keira. Tell him the truth. He deserves that much.”
I gulp back a boulder-sized lump in my throat. “The truth?”
The boys answer in unison. “Yes.”
My eyes dart from Dan to Jimmy, who nods before heading back to into the water. A normal person might attribute the movement of the body to the current. Only I can see Jimmy’s spirit wrenching uselessly at his dead arm.
I take a deep, courage-summoning breath. “Jimmy guided me here.”
Dan squints. “He guided you? What do you mean?”
“Jimmy’s spirit, his ghost, came to me last night. He’s been with me ever since for the most part.”
Dan’s expression makes me want to run away to the other side of the world. It’s a picture of fury, of resentment, of complete disbelief.
“He needed my help so his body could be found, you see.” I nod at Jimmy. “And now he’ll be able to move on with his life...his afterlife.”
Hands flexing with tension, Dan asks, “Are you telling me you’re psychic?”
“I’m a medium. There’s a difference,” I say weakly. Searching for moral support, I glance at Jimmy, who’s clambering onto dry land. “It’s... a new development.”
Dan looks far from impressed. “You’re insane.”
I splutter and protest, but a jarring thought needles me. What if my brain is misfiring and it’s created the ghost of Jimmy as a coping mechanism?
“I can’t believe you’re stooping this low.” Dan shakes his head and reaches for his phone. He shoots me an icy glare. “What are you really doing here? Did you have anything to do with my brother’s death?”
“No!” My shrill shout echoes across the clearing. “I told you. Jimmy led me here.”
He snorts. “Hope you’ve got a better story than that lined up for the cops.”
Jimmy steps toward Dan and tries to pry the phone away. He fails. “Hey, hey, bro. Keira’s trying to help.”
“It’s okay, Jimmy. Let me handle it.” With a steady gaze, I tell Dan, “Then I’ll tell the sheriff about the fight you had with Jimmy the morning he died. A fight about an article exposing Jimmy’s football injury. I bet he’ll find that very interesting.”
This is Your Afterlife Page 5