by Susan Hatler
“It’s mahogany,” he said.
“Whatever,” I snapped. Goosebumps prickled along my arms as I peeked over the top of the shield-table at the surfer-looking minister. “Don’t be scared, Reverend Gabriel. It’s just Jonathan. You’ll only be gone temporarily.”
“The zombie zone?” Reverend Gabriel gasped.
I whipped my gaze up to Owen. “Did you hear what he said? The zombie zone. Someone in authority actually listened to me when I talked. This is such a first. I’m really glad you brought me here,” I said, turning back to the minister to reassure him he’d be fine.
The minister grasped the back of the other chair in front of him, trying to rise to his feet. Then he stilled and pitched forward, banging his head against the metal chair.
I flinched. “That had to hurt.”
“He went after the minister this time,” Owen said, placing the table sideways on the floor in front of us like a barricade. “I think we’re safe.”
“Stop with all of this demon talk,” I said, frowning at Owen. “You’re freaking yourself out for nothing. It’s just Jonathan.”
“It’s not possible to know that,” he said, in a monotone voice.
Reverend Gabriel’s gray-suited body went limp on the ground.
I watched and waited, thinking about Owen’s words. I guess it was possible somebody else could be in the zombie zone. I hadn’t felt anyone else, but it’s not like I’d been there very long. Could it be a stranger in Reverend Gabriel’s body? A—gulp—demon?
Still lying on the floor, Minister Gabriel slowly opened his eyes. His chest rose until he was in a sitting position. His neck twisted left, then right. He rolled on his side, pushed to his feet, then pressed his palm to his forehead.
Owen gripped my hand. “What if this is the end, Amy?”
“Stop it,” I said, even though I was feeling a little uneasy myself.
The minister’s body stood before us, turned its head in our direction, his eyes narrowing on where Owen gripped my hand. Then the corner of his mouth rose. “I thought you said he wasn’t your boyfriend.”
“Jonathan,” I exclaimed, all sorts of happiness surging through my body. I detached myself from Owen’s grip. Then I climbed over the mahogany table, ran toward the surfer-looking guy, and threw my arms around him. “It’s about time you got here.”
Chapter Nine
It was such a relief to have Jonathan here, especially physically. I didn’t even care that were standing in the middle of a church, that Owen had just attempted to have Jonathan’s spirit exiled to another realm, or that Jonathan was wearing a boring gray suit with . . . what were those white collar things called? Eh, didn’t matter. With my arms around his neck, I squeezed him even harder, then felt my feet leave the ground as he hugged me back. A small burst of laughter escaped me, then my toes found the ground again.
I pulled back, smiling. “How long have you been with us? I didn’t feel you.”
“The whole time.” He kept an arm around me, then swiveled to face his geeky nemesis. “I didn’t hover too close, because I didn’t want to scare Owen any more than he already was.”
“That’s so considerate of you.” I leaned into him, tilting my head against his chest—which was admittedly kind of weird because he was in a grownup’s body. Then I glanced at Owen. “Didn’t I tell you he was nice?”
Owen took a step backward. “He just zombied the minister’s body. I’m far from convinced of his kindness.”
“I’m just borrowing his body,” Jonathan said, looking at Owen, then bringing his palm to his forehead. “Did one of you hit the minister? It feels like my head has been clubbed.”
I gestured toward the upturned metal chair on the floor. “Reverend Gabriel’s head hit the chair when his body went slack. You might not want to zombie anyone else unless they’re lying down. You’ve got a red spot on your forehead.”
“It’s not his forehead,” Owen said.
“Relax, Owen,” I said, since the combative way he was standing was making me nervous. “Jonathan isn’t going to hurt anyone. You know that.”
Owen’s face paled. “Tell that to Reverend Gabriel.”
Jonathan’s gaze darted down the hall, then back to Owen. “Reverend Gabriel is fine. I’m not going to harm his body, just like I didn’t do anything bad to yours. But we need to go somewhere else to talk, in case someone comes looking for me. For Reverend Gabriel, I mean.” He held his hand out. “Hand me your keys, Owen.”
Owen’s chin rose a notch, even though his arms shook at his sides. “What for?”
“We’re leaving.” Jonathan gestured toward the hallway, then thrust out his palm again. “And you’re not in any shape to drive.”
I noticed Jonathan was getting better with this whole zombie thing—he didn’t seem to wobble or lurch, just had that awkward moment when he took over the good reverend’s body.
Owen pulled his keys out of his pants pocket, and gave them over with a trembling hand. “Where are you taking me?”
“Burger Mania.” Jonathan slapped a hand on Owen’s back. “You were talking about those burgers earlier, and they sounded so good that I could use one or two or four myself. I’m starving.”
“What else is new?” I chuckled, picking up the metal chair that had fallen to the ground, and putting it back in place where it belonged. Then I eyed Jonathan up and down in his gray suit and white square collar. “You chose quite a different look this time.”
“He was the only other one here, and I couldn’t stand just watching anymore,” Jonathan said, then made his way toward the hall. He turned back over his shoulder. “You guys coming?”
“In a minute,” I called out, watching him retreat until he disappeared around the corner. Then I turned to Owen, whose face seemed to be regaining a little color. “He’s not a demon, Owen. I promise.”
He swiveled the coffee table upright, carried it back to where he found it, then set it down. He turned to me with a grave expression. “Then what is he?”
I pressed my lips together, staring at Owen, and I tried extra hard to really see him. Yeah, he’d thought Jonathan could be a demon and came to this church for help. But that’s only because Owen was a good person. I looked deeper at him and saw the fear he’d had earlier had faded, replaced by curiosity about something his mind couldn’t quite understand, which was totally fair. But that’s why we needed his help.
“You know what Jonathan is?” I asked, finally seeing Owen clearly for the very first time, and the person I saw had nothing to do with being a geek king. “He’s a teenage boy, just like you, searching for answers to an existence he can’t explain. Something bad happened to him. He doesn’t have anyone to help him besides me, and I don’t know what to do.”
Owen stared back at me, listening. “So you came to me.”
I nodded. “You’re the smartest person I know. I don’t understand half of what you say when you give a speech in class and a lot of what I hear sounds really out there. But I’ll bet there’s something in that head of yours that could help Jonathan, if you’re willing.”
He sucked in a deep breath, then nodded. “I’ll help. On one condition.”
“Anything,” I said, heading down the hall where Jonathan had gone.
Owen strode along beside me, then turned his head in my direction with a smile. “You’re buying the burgers, whether they’re on sale or not.”
“It’s a deal, Owen,” I said, laughing, then I stopped long enough to shake his hand.
For the first time, my chest filled with hope. Because adding another person to our team, just put us one step closer to saving Jonathan’s life.
****
After I bought half a dozen burgers and three orders of French fries, I slipped into a corner booth at Burger Mania ready to brainstorm on how to solve Jonathan’s bodiless bind. Jonathan set the tray on the table, then he scooted in beside me. Owen sat across from him, still eyeing Jonathan with a look of uncertainty.
Jonathan leaned tow
ard my ear. “When I get out of this mess, our next meal out will be at a much nicer restaurant, and it will be on me,” he whispered.
His breath tickled my skin, sending goosebumps up my neck, which was a tad awkward since we were in public and people would see a minister flirting with a high school junior.
“It’s a date,” I said, excited to be planning a future date with him sans minister’s body—and, unlike Alex, I was willing to bet Jonathan wouldn’t bring his friends along when we went out.
Owen cleared his throat. “If you two would like a little privacy—”
“Not at all.” Jonathan divvied up the food, unwrapped his burger, then bit into the giant meaty sandwich. He groaned as if it were the best burger of his life. After swallowing, he said, “This is just what I needed. I haven’t eaten since yesterday, so I’m starving.”
“That’s intriguing,” Owen said, and his face pinched as if he were making mental calculations. “Prior to your physical arrival, Loretta informed Amy and me that the minister had just returned from lunch. Although we don’t know the quantity of food he consumed, it seems reasonable to assume he did indeed eat. Therefore, your hunger doesn’t have to do with that physical body. Unless . . .” Owen’s face lit up, much like a child’s might while opening birthday gifts. “Perhaps your spirit is stimulating the minister’s hypothalamus, thus sending hunger signals throughout his body.”
“Could be,” Jonathan said, as if Owen had merely commented on the weather.
I, on the other hand, stopped mid-chew to gape at Owen. The guy had no problem philosophizing about the mind and body relationship, but when it came to simply noticing Brynne’s (possibly former) affections toward him, he was completely and utterly clueless. Totally random.
I swallowed my food and stared at Owen. “Since you seem to have a lot bubbling in that brain of yours, can you think of any body-problem solutions for Jonathan?”
Owen dipped a fry into ketchup, shaking his head. “I need more information on how he got in this predicament.” His gaze rested on Jonathan. “Can you give me the facts in detail about what you remember about the accident?”
My stomach twisted. It made sense to gather the facts, and that’s the direction I needed to focus on to help Jonathan get out of his zhostly status. But hearing the details of his fatal car crash wasn’t something I was looking forward to. Not even a little bit.
Jonathan inhaled deeply, crumpling the first of his empty burger wrappers. “First of all, thanks for agreeing to be here, Owen. I know committing to help must have been difficult for you considering how I borrowed your body yesterday. I’m sorry about the way that whole thing went down.”
“I appreciate that,” Owen said, straightening, seeming touched by Jonathan’s apology. “And I’m sorry for thinking you were a demon. I can see now you’re not evil.”
“Uh, thanks.” Jonathan said, then leaned back in the booth, and let out a deep breath. “Here’s what happened. On Friday morning, I was driving to school and got stuck in traffic. When the car in front of me braked abruptly, I stopped in time but the big rig behind me didn’t. Not very lucky for me, but there you have it.”
I lost my appetite. It was absolutely tragic that one driver’s mistake could change a person’s life so drastically. Could end a life. Scary.
“Unfortunately, that doesn’t give me anything new to go on,” Owen scratched the back of his neck. “Is there anything else you can remember? Even the tiniest factor could prove to be pertinent.”
I glanced up at Jonathan, and noticed his jaw muscles twitching. He seemed upset, almost as if he were holding something back. . . .
“What is it?” I prodded, sensing there was more.
“Nothing that has to do with the accident,” he said, a line forming between his brows.
Covertly under the table, I offered him my hand, and he closed his fingers around mine. “Whatever it is, you can tell us. We’re here for you.”
He momentarily closed his eyes, then blew out a breath. “I’d been up late the night before . . . upset about something I’d done.” His face filled with emotion and he squeezed my hand. “I’d had a fight with my dad, and said some things I shouldn’t have. Did something I wished I could take back.”
My heart ached, thinking about how hurt he’d been. “I remember. Your dad put the Maisy’s Meow contest over the family vacation. You said some mean stuff and gave away your inscribed copy of Maisy’s Meow.”
He shuddered, eyes still closed. “Yeah, but you know what the worst thing was. I told my dad I was no longer his son.”
“You didn’t mean it,” I said, not that it could ease his pain. That was majorly intense. But how often had I felt that about my own dad? How often had I cried myself to sleep when he first got his international job and was no longer there for me? How many times had I said to myself I didn’t want to be his daughter anymore?
But I’d never said it aloud. And I hadn’t died, unable to take it back.
He opened his eyes but didn’t look at me or Owen. Instead, he continued slowly, saying, “In the morning, I left for school completely exhausted from lack of sleep, and was listening to a song on the radio.” Jonathan’s body stilled and his eyes glazed over as if his mind was back in the car experiencing the incident again. “This next part sounds crazy and I might’ve been imagining it. But after I stopped my car, I glanced in my rearview mirror and saw the big rig barreling at me and then . . . suddenly I was above my car, watching the big rig crash into my bumper, crumpling the rear-end like an accordion.”
“Astral projection,” Owen mumbled, then shook his head when he noticed both of us gawking at him. “Go on. What happened next?”
“Everything went black. I was cold. And I remember thinking that it was too late with my dad. I’d never be able to tell him I was sorry.” His eyes shimmered, his jaw muscles pulsed, then he exhaled slowly. “The next thing I knew, I was tumbling through the air out of control, for what seemed like hours. Then I ended up in Amy’s room where her friends were helping her get ready for her date with that Alex guy.”
Owen had seemed mesmerized by Jonathan’s story, but then his eyes drifted to me. “You went out on a date with Todd’s friend? Alex Decker?”
“Just one date,” I said, wiggling in my seat underneath the scrutinizing gazes I was receiving from both of the guys. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing,” Owen said, but it was clear that something was going through his mind. He apparently wasn’t going to share whatever it was though, because he turned to Jonathan. “I believe what you experienced before the accident was astral projection, which is more commonly known as an out-of-body experience.”
Jonathan’s eyes grew large. “What is that?”
“It’s quite fascinating, actually.” Owen perked up, dipping another fry into his ketchup before popping it into his mouth. “It’s where your astral body—or spirit—leaves your physical body and travels on an astral plane. The astral plane is the place that Amy refers to as the ‘zombie zone.’”
“Aww,” I said, smiling. Having my term validated made me feel like I’d won an award or something. “Thanks for the plug, Owen.”
He ignored me. “Astral projection can be achieved intentionally through meditation, but many reported instances are accidental—caused during near-death experiences, hypnotic trances, or in your case, from sleep deprivation.” Owen clasped his hands together as if he were concluding a speech from U.S. Government class. “The fact that your spirit wasn’t in your body when it passed away explains why you’re still here even though your body isn’t.”
“That’s bizarre,” I commented, because, well, hello? This was so not the normal teenage sitch. We should be dealing with annoying teachers, bossy parents, and what color dress to wear to the prom. Yeah, probably premature to be thinking about a school dance but an emerald-green strapless would go amazingly well with Jonathan’s eyes. I glanced up at him, reality stomping down on me as Reverend Gabriel’s brown-eyed gaze met m
ine.
Ugh. As much as I wanted Jonathan kissing me, I so did not want that happening while he was inhabiting the minister’s body. Gross. I could handle it when Jonathan was in Owen’s body—maybe because Owen was a teenager, and familiar, and even rather hot in his nerdy way. But wow—did I ever want Jonathan in his own body. But that never could be since it was dust.
My heart squeezed, and I pressed my hand over my chest. “What are we going to do?”
Jonathan rapped his knuckles against the table as if he were antsy. Then he scooted forward in his seat and turned to Owen. “If you’re right about this out-of-body experience, then I’m hosed. Yesterday, Amy and I went to the cemetery. We thought if we dug up my body then I could go inside it and bring it back to life again. But we ran into my sister there, and found out I was cremated.”
“Which is why we need a new solution, and we will find one,” I said, wanting to do anything to lighten the mood. I turned to Owen. “On the bright side, I’m pretty sure Danielle thought you were hot. We gave her your cell number,” I said. Even though I was still secretly rooting for him to get together with Brynne, I figured Danielle’s interest might boost up his ego after my earlier rejection.
“Considering the fact that her brother was in my body when she met me, that would be the most bizarre blind date I’d ever heard of,” Owen said, not seeming to give any thought to the fact a girl found him attractive. It’s like he couldn’t turn his quizzical mind off.
“Nobody’s dating my sister until she’s eighteen,” Jonathan said, the muscles on his neck tightening. “Maybe not even then.”
“Back to the point of running into Danielle,” I said, realizing I’d gotten us slightly off the subject. I looked over at Owen. “Since Jonathan was cremated, he obviously can’t go back into his ashes. But maybe your dad knows of a John Doe from the hospital morgue. It’s not like anyone would miss that body if it were to disappear, right?”