I nod my head. “I’m a good girl,” I say because I think that’s what he wants to hear. “Was Charlotte a good girl?”
I think he pauses but he doesn’t let me go.
“She was weak. Listening to her friends.”
Friends. I’m so hoping mine will hurry up and get here. And with that thought comes a sound. It’s not loud, like a swishing in the air, and I go still.
“Ricky threatened to tell, didn’t he? He was going to tell what you were doing. Report you to the principal and to the police.”
“Shut up!” he yells in my ear and the next thing I know I’m airborne, slamming to the floor with a thud. “You don’t know anything! That wannabe gang boy thought he could mess with my money. Told Trina to walk away from me. He was the fool, signed his own death warrant the moment he told her to leave me. Killing him wasn’t just a necessity. It was actually fun.”
My face lies against the cool tile as I let his words register in my mind. He killed Ricky. I try to get up and then I see the tips of Timberland boots in my peripheral and feel relieved.
“You would have lost everything. Your teaching job, your little job on the yearbook, everything. You’d lose everything if the truth came out, wouldn’t you, Mr. Lyle?”
Pushing myself up off the floor, I look right into his beady dark eyes. I always thought they were creepy-looking; tonight they’re beyond that.
I mean, really, they are. His eyes are completely black now, no whites surrounding the irises, nothing but black. I swallow hard.
He laughs.
“You have no idea, little girl. No idea at all.”
Then Mr. Lyle is the one flying across the room, his big body slamming hard against the racks with all the balls. He hits the floor with a thud and everything else falls on top of him.
Run, Krystal. Ricky says from the corner where I saw him.
But I can’t move.
I look from Ricky to Mr. Lyle, who’s rising from the floor straight upward like a corpse. I open my mouth to scream when I see the desk flying through the air, coming straight at me.
Then there’s Jake, his eyes focused on the desk, shifting its trajectory so that it crashes through the window instead. Ricky moves and stands in front of me as another desk floats through the air. Jake can’t get this one because Mr. Lyle has turned his attention to him. Now the both of them, with strength unlike anything I’ve ever seen, are fighting.
The desk is going to hit me, I just know it is. I can see right through Ricky. I know he’s not completely crossed over, I know there’s nothing he can do to help me, but then…he turns to me and covers me with his body like a shield. There’s a loud crashing and the desk falls to the floor.
In the next second Sasha’s right beside me. “Krystal, oh, God, you’re all right.”
“I am,” I say and look over to Ricky, who now has that glow around him. Was that how he’d protected me from the desk? Some afterlife shielding powers?
That thought is interrupted by a deep moaning that echoes throughout the entire room. Jake’s standing over Mr. Lyle, I guess where he pummeled him to the ground. But Mr. Lyle isn’t fighting back anymore, he’s lying there, his whole body shaking like he’s having some kind of fit.
His mouth is wide open, his eyes, those black pits in the center of his face, shining and then the smoke comes. That thick black smoke I’ve been seeing for days comes pouring out his eyes, his ears, his nose and his mouth. In long steady streams, it floats upward to the ceiling where it meets and in a dark path goes right out through the broken window.
Me, Sasha and Jake just watch in silence. In fear of what we know is still out there.
thirty
The windows in my room have been rattling since I got out of the tub and sat on the bed, putting lotion on my legs. I try to ignore it.
Turning off the light and slipping under the covers, I take a deep breath and attempt to clear my mind. Tonight has been more than eventful. Jake battered Mr. Lyle badly enough and then that new girl, the one Jake had been trying to get away from at the dance, just appeared. I don’t know how long she’d been standing in the doorway; hopefully not long enough to have seen the spirit that left Mr. Lyle’s body. But anyway, she used her cell phone to dial 911. Then we all kind of stood in the hallway waiting for the cops to arrive. I don’t know how word made it to the dance. I’m thinking the sound of windows breaking and desks slamming against the floor alerted someone. Then a few school staffers had come to see what was going on. At first it looked like they weren’t going to believe us. Like for an instant they were going to haul all of us down to the office for beating up a teacher. But then Camy stepped up, crying and ranting about how Mr. Lyle said he was going to make her a big star. That sort of validated our explanation that he was taking pornographic pictures of girls and posting them online. The rest was for the cops to work through.
Then all our parents were called and we had to sit in the teacher’s lounge while the police talked to each one of us. My mother and Gerald showed up, both of them flanking me like guardian angels. Although I didn’t say it, I was grateful they were there. Both of them.
“How did you know about Mr. Lyle?” the cops asked me.
“He called my cell phone and told me to meet him here. He’s been sending me texts and instant messages for a few weeks now.”
“And you went, just like that?” Gerald asked, the sound of exasperation in his voice. “Don’t you know how dangerous that is? That bastard could’ve killed you.”
“Let her talk, Gerald.”
“Mr. Lyle was my teacher. But I didn’t know that he was the one calling me. The instant messages were innocent enough. But then the texts came and the pictures. If I would have known all along it was him I would have said something sooner.”
After another grueling hour of questioning and explaining, I still wasn’t sure the adults believed me. I felt good knowing that Ricky’s murderer was being arrested and hopefully given a long jail sentence. Twan and his crew were no longer suspects in his murder. And now Ricky is free to cross over to where he truly belongs.
That brings me to the here and now and these freakin’ dead people who insist on coming into my room at night for private conversations. This is going to make keeping the Mystyx secret much harder.
The clacking sound against the window that I’d dismissed as the wind isn’t the wind. It’s the spirits, knocking, so to speak. I knew this because the room has suddenly grown very chilly. I flip around like a seal until I am lying flat on my back with my hands on my stomach. I probably look like I am playing dead myself when I’m actually trying to concentrate.
I’d read online that one who had the ability to communicate with the dead could also control those communications. So I’m lying here with my eyes closed trying my hardest to communicate.
How do you say get the hell out to dead people?
You hear me, I know you do. That’s the first time he spoke. I don’t know who he is, sounds old. I won’t even open up my eyes to look at him because I’m not tryin’ to do his bidding right now. If I’m going to do this medium thing then they are going to have to work on my time. I mean, I do have a life—at least now I do.
Over and over I repeat that mantra in my mind—convincing myself that this is how it will be. My breathing is slowing to a steady even rhythm, my mind melding with my body.
It sounds like something’s shuffling across the floor, then my bed shakes. He’s trying to get my attention.
Drumming my fingers once, I just keep focusing—breathing in deeply, breathing out slowly—in deep, out slow.
Get up, you lazy twit!
In deep, out slow.
I need you to tell Gladys something. That witch is spending my money like it’s water. You’ve got to stop her!
In deep, out slow. In deep, out slow.
Fine! he finally yells. I’ll wait until you call but you’d better not take too long.
The bed shakes again, so hard my cheeks jiggle. And then th
ere’s nothing. The room is quiet and the frigid air seems to have been sucked right out. Cautiously I open one eye, peeking into the darkness to make sure nobody’s there.
I don’t feel him so it’s no big deal that I can’t really see anything anyway. Then I smile, right there in my bed, in my dark room all by myself, I smile. I did it!
The spirit is gone, resigned to come back when I call him, when I’m ready to deal with him. I controlled him. He didn’t scare me and he didn’t tell me what to do. I was the boss.
Flipping back onto my stomach I’m still smiling as I burrow deeper into my pillow and search for sleep.
First, let me just say it’s not the infamous walk into the light that everybody likes to describe it as. The actual crossing over from here to eternity involves a lot less fanfare and a lot more emotion than I ever expected.
We’re at the cemetery again.
I sure hope I’m not going to spend too much of my time here, but I had to see Ricky off. I’d never feel completely satisfied if I didn’t. He has the aura of a spirit now, but he said he still hadn’t taken a walk down that path. He hadn’t taken that turn in the road like Trina had explained to me.
Ricky said he wanted to do that with me.
His hands are in his pockets and his legs are spread apart—his favorite stance. I smile because I know I’m going to miss seeing that, seeing him, talking to him. I’m going to miss Ricky, period.
I remember the day I met him, the way he looked so confident and arrogant asking for my help. And after all these weeks, when I thought all I wanted to do was ignore these spirits harassing me, I’m wondering if there’s any way we can keep in touch. It’s weird, I know, but he’s become so much more than just a spirit, more than just someone I need to help. I know there’s a name for what he is to me, I just can’t pinpoint it right now.
“So this is it, huh?” I say, hoping I sound real casual-like. My hands are shaking. I keep trying to make them be still but it’s not working.
Yeah, it is.
“Are you scared?”
He shrugs. Nah. Can’t be any worse than living in a world where teachers prey on young girls, mess with them, take pictures of them and then kill them.
“Well, when you put it like that, I’d have to agree with you.”
You’re a real cool girl, Krystal.
“Thanks.”
I meant what I said about some dude being happy to get you. I’ve seen you hanging with that weather boy and even though he’s not your type, I guess it’s okay if you kick it with him for a while.
“Oh, you guess it’s okay. Like I need your permission.”
Our conversation is light, like we’re just standing at the bus stop or something. Nobody would ever guess I’m alive and he’s dead and that in a few minutes I’d be heading home to have dinner with my mother and stepfather and he’d be on his way to eternity.
He’s laughing and that makes me feel better about letting him go.
I’m a still keep an eye you.
“Please don’t.” I’m touched that Ricky would even consider watching over me. Thinking back, I shouldn’t have gotten attached to a spirit. But emotions are deeper and more persuasive than reason. I liked having Ricky around and I’m trying real hard not to cry because I’ll never see him again.
Um, Trina says she’s sorry.
That seems out of the blue, but then again it doesn’t. It figures that guilt was driving Trina’s involvement in what I was doing for Ricky. Actually, I wouldn’t have been able to figure that out except for my visits with Dr. Whack Quack. He actually did make some good points sometimes.
“Why didn’t she just tell you about Mr. Lyle?”
I guess she was afraid or something. She said she felt like dirt after he posted those pictures. So this is it, he says and kind of looks over his shoulder.
I look, too, because I want to see where he’s going. But all I see is the rest of the cemetery. The weather seems to be cooperating today, no heavy winds, no rain, no anything else. The sky is clear, the sun shining. A good day to go home, I guess.
Thanks, Krystal. I really appreciate all you did. Nobody’s ever helped me before so I’m not used to this. But I’m glad it was you.
I’m feeling real proud of myself as I clench my hands together in front of me. “I’m glad it was me, too.”
And I’ll tell the others to cut you some slack, you’re new to this ghost whisperer thing and you need time to get adjusted.
“Thanks. I appreciate that.”
And then he turns, I see him take a couple steps and then I don’t see him anymore. The sensation I’ve come to relate to Ricky’s presence has left me. Ricky has left me.
Alone.
In the cemetery looking like a goofball.
I smile, then I chuckle, then I laugh so hard I have to sit down. My back is against his stone once again and I let my head loll back. I’m in the cemetery and I’m not afraid of ghosts. Instead I’m almost anticipating my next spiritual assignment.
Yeah, and I’ll be keeping that little tidbit to myself. Don’t want to see Dr. Whack Quack any more than I have to.
thirty-one
It is finally here. The wind howls like a chorus of banshees outside the windows. The temperature has dropped from a seasonable sixty degrees to a bone-chilling thirty-four. And it is snowing.
Yep, it’s May 1 and snow is falling from the sky like it was December 1. So far, six inches have already fallen.
I am absolutely amazed. The natives aren’t.
Weather anomalies, Franklin has explained. As we, the Mystyx, sit at our lunch table waiting for the school principal to make the decision to close schools early, we wonder what will happen next.
“It’s gotta be a sign,” Sasha says, taking a bite of her apple. “Pops said every time there’s an unexplained weather event in Lincoln, there’s a surge in the supernatural power source, a surge in our Power.” Sasha has taken to calling Jake’s grandfather “Pops,” probably because nobody else calls him that. Still I think it is a little presumptuous of her to be that familiar with a member of someone else’s family.
I consider what she’s just said. The last thing I need is another power surge. I’ve already accepted my powers as a medium and have even developed some control over my afterlife acquaintances. Then there are the visions. I think I’ve had them all along but just dismissed them as elaborate dreams. Now, I can recognize the cold chill and slightly nauseous feeling when I’m about to have one. All of this I’ve accepted as part of my nature. I’m not all that sure I’m ready for any more just yet.
“Franklin’s dad said it seems like a Nor’easter coming down from Canada, except that it normally happens in February, not May. All I know is, I don’t want any more power,” I say adamantly.
Jake is already shaking his head. He’d gotten a haircut but I don’t think he likes it. He keeps rubbing his hand over his forehead like he’s missing something there. Using our power on Mr. Lyle sort of brought about a change in all of us.
Sasha seems happier and her mood swings are a little less volatile. She enjoys her new powers, says they make her feel strong and beautiful. I just go along with her because mine don’t really make me feel that way.
Jake is still quiet and still looks down at the floor or the table a lot. He’s still a Tracker and he’s still struggling academically, but when he smiles he looks genuinely happy. When he talks to us he says things about his future that show optimism. He has plans, wants to become a veterinarian.
As for me, well, I’m still me. Only now, instead of wondering how it’ll feel to be kissed by a ghost, I like how it feels to be kissed by Franklin.
“Hey, did ya hear they’re closing school early?”
She seems to suddenly appear at the table quietly, but her presence always seems to bring something else. Jake looks up at the sound of her voice. Sasha continues to eat but stares at her. I stuff my trash into my lunch bag and wait because we all know she has more to say. She is like that, tal
kative, all the time.
“So, I was thinking that if you guys aren’t doing anything we could go hang out at my place. Maybe have a snowball fight or something. I’ve got a killer arm that I can’t wait to try out. Plus, it doesn’t look like it’s going to stop snowing anytime soon so we’ll probably be off school tomorrow, too. Why not get a head start on the weekend?”
Her name is Lindsey Yi; she just transferred to Settlemans from out of state. She’s the girl from the dance, the one that just about pulled Jake onto the dance floor and the one who appeared after the incident with Mr. Lyle. She hasn’t said a word about what happened that night, so I am taking that as a sign that she didn’t see anything unusual. I’m sure not going to ask her if she did. Anyway, it is obvious that Jake doesn’t like her.
He groans at the sight of her or the rapid-fire words that seem to practically pour from her mouth at any given moment. I don’t know which, but it makes me laugh. Then the cafeteria goes into a state of pandemonium. Lindsey has brought us some news and it looks like the rest of the students have just gotten the same announcement.
Before anybody can say another word, we are up and out of the cafeteria, heading straight to our lockers. I’ve just stepped out of the double doors when Sasha grabs my arm.
“Come on, you’re riding with us.”
I know enough now not to even argue with her. The bus lets me off at the corner where my house is, Sasha lived in the opposite direction, as does Jake. But I guess since we are now connected by the Power, it makes sense that we stick together all the time.
It’s absolutely bone-chilling out here, the wind’s blowing snowflakes all over the place. I remember when I was younger I used to like watching the snow fall from the window in our apartment. But that was always so pretty and orderly. This, what is going on right now in Lincoln, is not a neat, pretty snowfall. It seems more like an angry, defiant blizzard.
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