Along with the extra-long life came the knowledge that my body would quickly go from an underdeveloped fifteen-year-old to that of a twenty-year-old—in appearance, anyway—in one short year. My mind would likely develop slower, though there was no real time frame to go by. In the end, the transformation would leave me with the mental faculties of a middle-aged person, and my wisdom would grow with every Tourist I help after I am done with my studies. I would remain my age in emotional maturity for now, but as Aunt Lucie put it, being a Guide was something of an accelerated lesson in life. It was a given that I would experience more emotional challenges than most kids my age.
Lovely, I won’t have to experience normal teenage angst but the trade-off was dealing with death on a daily basis. I’m sure that won’t warp me in any way!
During the years to come, she would instruct me in the ways of a Guide and ferret out any special talent I might have. Although, she was quick to add, not every Guide had a special talent. She truly was rare and not opposed to mentioning it.
Given little time to wrap my head around every detail of this change, I found that I was drawn to a solitary life in my free time. Comforting words from my family, or even Will, seemed to slide off me and onto the floor in front of my feet and then were trampled in my constant pacing. It was a puzzle that I was never meant to piece together, a quest left incomplete. The only thing I was one hundred percent sure of was this: there was nothing normal about my circumstances and my title of queen freak had just reached a new level, not that I knew that was possible.
After two weeks of constant fussing, my mother and aunt felt comfortable taking their little trip but assured my father they would only be gone three days. I was pretty sure Dad was terrified to be left alone with a hormonal teenage girl, let alone a teenage girl who now carried the weight of the dying on her young shoulders. After promising both women to be on my best behavior and wait until they returned to have a breakdown, I helped send them on their way.
At this point, I felt my emotional collapse was inevitable.
So, every morning I woke the same as I had before: I ate my breakfast, got dressed, and met Will at the bus stop. Thankfully, he never asked what was wrong and eventually he even stopped asking if I had found anything out about the dream. I suppose he figured I would fill him in when I felt like it. I went through the motions of my day, and when school was out, I made the return trip with a heavy heart.
Is life as a real teenager or being considered normal enough to be included to be forever out of reach?
My thoughts were always met with a resounding Duh! Normal had never been a word associated with me, although I never felt abnormal in any way. I had always been fine with simply being included in Will’s life, as well as that of my family’s. I could see no reason to change that now.
While my mom and aunt were away, my assignment was to read the “book” and become acquainted with our history. I loved history, but this was a huge leap for me; this was more like mythology. In the front of the book, after the fateful explanation of my place in this world, there was the story of my kind. Maybe story wasn’t the proper term. It was more like a poem and mentioned only one name, Queen Grainne. From what I could gather, she was the first, but how the rest of us descended from her, I couldn’t figure out.
Giving up on trying to decipher the ancient history, I looked for something a little more modern within the text and was rewarded. In the middle of the musty-smelling book were pages and pages full of handwritten entries. The first few were in some old, and probably dead language, so I continued to move through carefully until I finally found one I could understand. It was written in an outdated form of English and dated only two hundred years in the past rather than four or five; the book actually contained some entries even older than that. All those years of digging in the hard Kansas dirt while playing archeologist, and I had an honest to goodness piece of ancient history in my own house. Because I knew this was a book written by the Guides in our family, I assumed the author was a distant relation but couldn’t figure out how she was related, not that it would matter. I did, however, notice that we shared the same first name. Sharing a common link with someone from so long ago gave me the chills. I will definitely start by reading her entry, I decided.
My homework had provided me with more questions than answers, which only served to annoy me even more than I thought humanly possible.
When Mom and Aunt Lucie returned, I had five sheets of paper, front and back, full of questions about everything from my impending transformation to the cryptic passages I had read. In time, I was told, I would be given a chance to go over all of them, but I was not sure I would ever be satisfied with the answers I would receive.
I quickly settled into a routine. Mornings were the same, but every evening I was subjected to more lessons on being a Guide: the history—what little was supplied—the rules of interaction, and tests to determine if I had additional talents. I actually enjoyed learning the intricate and awe inspiring history of our people, though there were gaps the size of the Grand Canyon, leaving information of several generations little more than a guessing game. The rules were, well, rules and as such pretty boring. They were also fairly straightforward, except for the more personal issues like love, sex, and marriage. I soldiered on and learned them all. My favorite part was the testing for my talents. It was the only time Aunt Lucie and I had a little more fun with my lessons. When I actually showed some promise in one particular area, both my aunt and I were thrilled and might have giggled like little girls. I could “encourage” people to follow a path by putting the thought of that path in their minds. All in all, though, the entire process was exhausting and frustrating. Aunt Lucie was a wonderful teacher, but seeing her face, and hers alone, every night for more than a month started wearing on my fifteen-year-old nerves—if only that had been the worst of it.
My body began changing after a few weeks, and now I was becoming increasingly more insecure with the way I looked. When they said I would go from nothing to something, they meant it. My body blossomed from head to toe and curves replaced the straight boyish lines I’d always had. Because of the accelerated growth, there wasn’t the physical pain normally involved, but the mental anguish was unbearable. Wasn’t it bad enough that I had always been excluded because I had freaky eyes and a dangerous air? Now, I had all these guys staring at me while I walked down the hall, and I could have sworn I could read their thoughts through their eyes. For example, “When did that happen?” or “If she didn’t make me want to hide in a closet, I would ask her out.” and “Jeez, what a body wasted on such a weird chick...” The thoughts went on and on anytime I connected with their eyes. I had discovered yet another talent... peachy!
Just perfect! I can read thoughts now, too, unless I can learn to walk around with my eyes closed... ridiculous.
There seemed to be no part of me that wasn’t affected. I had always been an exemplary student, but I still had to study hard to keep it up. After the change started, I noticed I could do homework with little to no effort and still receive high grades. I filed that in the plus category. The negatives were still winning the fight, though, unfortunately.
Mercifully, November 1 arrived, and my birthday along with it. My family had a special Halloween and All Souls Day tradition.
When we were small, we always dressed up and went trick-or-treating in town. We would then come home and listen to stories passed down in my father’s family. Some were scary: headless horsemen, frightening fairies, screaming Banshees—ironically, that one took on an all-new meaning for me now—but there was always a message. Most often it was to be wary of strangers and things that seemed too perfect most generally were. The next day we would get up early, put on our Sunday best, no matter what day it was, and go to church. This year would be no different, except that All Souls Day would also have a new meaning for me. We were all too old to go trick-or-treating now, instead we sett
led for a big dinner, a large bonfire outside, and the same stories.
This year my aunt added a few of her own, and they were considerably more frightening because I knew they were real. She had lived them, and they had helped to form her into the Guide she was today. This was also my first serious introduction to the opposing forces of the Guides, or the Badbeh. They were soulless demons, and their driving purpose was to intensify the misery that pushed the departed to roam the earthly plain, thereby stranding the dead here for eternity and keeping them from whatever afterlife awaited them. Keeping so many souls in limbo not only fed them and kept them strong, it also continued to strengthen their fight against the ancient lines of human Guides. Destroying the protectors of lost souls would leave the Badbeh in control and allow them to overrun the world with misery and despair. Essentially, they wanted to do what I’d always imagined was the Devil’s job and kill off hope and happiness.
The Guides were formed to combat these creatures, resulting in them being hunted by the Badbeh for centuries. As my aunt continued to regale us with her stories of lost souls and the fatal stare of the Badbeh, I felt my body grow cold until I began to shiver uncontrollably. What will happen when I encounter one? They had the ability to paralyze a Guide and steal their soul, their eyes. I quickly tried to calm my breathing and quiet the shivering that racked my entire body before anyone noticed, but I had a strange feeling Aunt Lucie had already seen my reaction.
As midnight drew near, we doused the fire and headed back in the house. The crisp night air gave me goose bumps through my heavy jacket. We all said our goodnights and as I was beginning the ascent to my bedroom, my aunt called me. “Catherine, can we talk for a minute?”
“Sure, what’s up?” I asked, knowing full well what was coming.
“Did my stories bother you? I did embellish a little, to give them that ‘boo’ factor.” Was she serious? Like they wouldn’t be scary enough on their own?
“Well, yeah. The Badbeh sound pretty intense. I guess I was wondering how to protect myself from that. How do you fight them... or can you fight them?” The simple act of saying the words aloud had relieved some of my anxiety, but my death grip on the stair rail reminded me that there was plenty more to make up for that.
“My interactions with them are limited, but I found guarding your mind can be quite effective when they try to seduce you, magically of course. There are only a few documented cases of them actually coming after someone personally, but if you are ever in their presence you must never make eye contact. My understanding is that the moment they lock their eyes with yours, they are in control and can steal your soul, killing your body. Now, if you’re wondering about physical fighting, I don’t really have any answers, yet.”
She paused when she noticed the glistening of unshed tears in my eyes. It was increasingly difficult to digest the unsettling information I was hearing and she knew it was time to ease up, just a bit. “Catherine, I can tell this bothers you, a lot, and though you may not believe it, that is a good thing. Guides who don’t take the Badbeh seriously are the ones who fall prey. I will train you in all that I know, and the first time you encounter one you will be prepared; there are shields and other defenses you can learn. Please know that when the time comes, if it is between losing your Tourist’s soul and losing your own, it is best to let the Tourist be taken. We do have allies in the spirit world.” This all came out of her mouth with a matter-of-fact tone that left me speechless. Suddenly, something she mentioned resonated through my mind, and I remembered one of the questions I had from my reading.
“Allies? Like ghosts who have the ability to fight with us?” Well, it wasn’t the best posed of questions, but she understood what I meant.
“Yes. You see, when our time here as living, breathing human Guides is done, we die. However, we will not immediately go to rest in peace, like those that we help. There are souls still caught between here and where they are supposed to be; souls that we, in our human form, cannot help. When we die, our souls stay on the Earth to help them find their path. There are some human Guides who can communicate with our spirit counterparts, allowing them to serve as teachers as well.” This time there was a hint of emotion in her voice, and she no longer held my gaze but instead focused on a spot above my head.
“Can you talk to the ghost Guides?” I asked bluntly.
She sighed before answering. “Only one. She is our cousin Julia, and when she was alive, she was my teacher but only for my first year. After she died, I imagine because we had become so close, I was still able to “talk” to her and she continued to teach me. She will be with us for some time now, but I think I have learned just about all she has to offer.” A smile lit her face and she seemed happy. “Lucky for you, I can pass her wisdom on to you and add my own to boot. I will be able to help you for years to come because of my age, so even after she finishes her mission I will be here for you.”
I started to ask another question, but she held her hand up. “Enough questions for tonight, it’s very late and tomorrow we have to get up quite early. If I’m not mistaken, it is also someone’s sixteenth birthday. You’ll need your sleep if you want to be able to stay awake to car shop.”
Wait. Did I hear her right? Car shop? Yes!
“That won’t take long because I don’t have much money. Dad mentioned a friend that had something in my price range a few weeks ago, so if you want to take me to see it that would be fine, I guess.” I yawned.
“Yes, I will take you, and no, you will not be looking at some hunk of junk. I have already squared things away with Dermot and Moira and I will be helping you buy your first car. You can’t drive around the countryside to help your charges in a car that is more likely to need pushing than sitting in,” she stated with an air of exasperation.
Wow! I had known Aunt Lucie was a well-known artist in Texas, but I didn’t know she had that much money to throw around. Almost as though she could follow my thoughts, she said, “I have no one but myself to take care of and Julia left me an inheritance, which I will leave to you when it is my time. For now, I will help in any way I can and any money you earn on your own should be put into a savings account for your future. Now, go to bed.” With that she turned around and headed for her little bed in the converted dining room.
I walked to my room full of anticipation, and for the first time in quite a while, with an honest-to-goodness smile on my face. The conversation about the Badbeh and all the danger related to them seemed like it had taken place a million years ago. I continued to smile until the muscles in my face begged for mercy as I drifted into unconsciousness. My birthday would be a good day, after all. I would also get some time off from the incessant studying. Three days to slack off. Finally hitting the proverbial wall, I slept as soundly as I had before this whole mess began.
Car shopping, birthday cake, turkey on Thanksgiving, Christmas morning—it all passed with alarming speed. As one month spilled into the next, I began writing in my journal.
Aunt Lucie had taken me car shopping as she promised, and we settled on a new midnight blue Volkswagen Jetta. It was the most perfect first car I could have imagined. To say I loved it would be a complete underestatement because I had never had anything so new and expensive in my life. Don’t get me wrong, my parents bought us plenty of nice things, but this was a new car. That wonderful feeling extended to the following Monday as I pulled into the parking lot at school with Will in the front seat. It was like Christmas morning, my birthday, and Halloween all rolled together. The mouths of half a dozen populazzi fell open and remained that way throughout first period. That moment would forever be ranked as one of the best in my life; of that I was sure, but there was another day that would rank just a bit higher.
Shortly after that incredible day, I noticed Lacy Bleu and her gang of overly pretentious teen zombies began parking unusually close to me. I tried my best to avoid all contact, as they never had anything nice
to say. I was sorely tempted on a daily basis to use the new talent that I had acquired, and not in the way it was meant to be used either. “Thought gardening,” a phrase I had come up with, allowed me to plant the seed of a thought in someone’s mind and give it the slightest positive nudge to get them on the right track, much like telepathy. Some might use this to control other’s actions, but I’d sworn to only use it to help my Tourists face their fears and set them on the right course. However, where Lacy Bleu and her gang of airheads were involved, I had to fight hard to remain the bigger person.
Unfortunately, I found myself dreaming up the foulest thoughts to plant in their heads on a regular basis: getting them to shave their hair off by convincing them it was the new trend, having them graffiti the gymnasium as an act of school beautification, leading them to think that the newest fashion statement was the absence of clothes so they would all show up to school naked. My favorite, which was also the tamest of the bunch, was planting the seed that would convince them they had wasted their lives up to this point on useless hoarding of material things and the path they should be following was one of selflessness. The emphasis would be on selling all of their belongings and giving the money to charity. Besides being my favorite, it was also the only one that would have taught them a lesson. My list of ideas was actually quite long, but those were the highlights, if terrible thoughts could have highlights. Not my most shining moment, but I never acted on any of them. Instead, I dug down deep and found the courage to stand up to them, specifically Lacy, face to face.
A Banshee's Tale Page 4