by Aron Lewes
“I got hit by a couple of idiots in a truck.”
“Oh, shit. That's not good,” Alyx attempts sympathy. “So... are you pretty bummed about it?”
“Well, I'm definitely not happy.” I glance around our shared bedroom, which is already wallpapered in Regal Crimson posters. I guess Alyx is a pretty rabid fan.
“Seriously, it's not so bad!” my roommate tries to reassure me. “There's a lot to like. Seriously, the food is amaaaay-zing!”
“There's food?” I ask. I didn't think my intestines would still require sustenance.
“Oh, yeah. I mean... you don't need to eat, but you can if you want to. It's not paradise without pizza, am I right?” As we chat, Alyx starts bobbing her head to Regal Crimson, which she's currently blasting into a single ear. I hope she doesn't ask what music I like. If I tell her I like classical, I'll solidify my position as a total nerd.
“You can get pizza? For real?” I have a lot of questions. I hope she's not too annoyed. So far, she seems friendly enough.
“Oh yeah. You can get all kinds of toppings, too.” Alyx chuckles at my shocked expression. “Oh my god, wait until you try the chocolate here! It... is... insane.”
I'd love to have some chocolate right now. If Heaven chocolate is even better than chocolate back home, at least I have one reason to get excited.
Still—amazing chocolate hardly makes up for the fact that I won't be seeing my family anymore.
Until I can hug my little sister again, my sadness won't go away.
“You're late, ladies!”
Unfortunately, Amber's reprimand is for Alyx and me. It's our first day of class, and we're almost five minutes late. It's Alyx's fault. She wanted to teach me how to manifest. Apparently, if you concentrate hard enough, you can make anything appear. But it takes practice. So far, I've only manifested a stick of chewing gum.
“Sorry, Amber,” I mutter the apology to our frustrated teacher as Alyx and I search for empty seats. There are about twenty students, and we're easily the youngest in the room. As the only late arrivals, we're poor representatives for our age group.
“Take a seat, please.” As she waits for us to sit, Amber moves behind her desk and dons a pair of glasses. Can you still have bad eyesight in the Spirit World? If so, that kind of sucks. “Before you arrived, I was telling everyone what to expect from the next few days. Oral lessons—lessons that take place within a classroom—will only last for two days. After that, you will be paired with a seasoned spirit guide. We encourage you to take advantage of their knowledge. With your veteran guide at your side, you'll tackle various field tests.”
In the classroom's front row, a fifty-something Asian man throws up his arm. “Excuse me, Amber?”
“Yes, Christopher?” Amber sits down and pushes her glasses to the bridge of her nose.
“Will we all have a different spirit guide, or will we be working in groups?”
“Every student will have their very own guide,” Amber explains. “The guides will be your teachers. They will assist you in learning our methods, and through them, you will hopefully discover your purpose. Ultimately, your goal is to become a spirit guide yourself.”
Alyx blurts out a question without raising her hand. I don't know if it's against rules, but it makes her look bad. “What if we don't want to be a spirit guide?”
“Oh, you will want to! It's very fulfilling work!” Amber exclaims. “I've never met a single soul who wasn't enriched by the process.”
“But seriously...” As she leans forward in her chair, Alyx is chomping on the piece of chewing gum I manifested. “What if I'm the first soul who just isn't into it?”
“I encourage you to give it a chance, Alyx. There's nothing more fulfilling than helping a human in need.”
Alyx leans closer to my chair and whispers, “Is it just me, or is she basically avoiding my question?”
I answer her with a nod, then my eyes drift around the room, studying the students' faces. About half of them are over the age of seventy. A few students look like they're in their fifties or sixties. One guy looks like he's about thirty, which makes me wonder what happened to him. Every race is equally represented, but there are more males than females.
“Throughout your mortal life, whether you knew it or not, you were always assisted by your guides and angels,” Amber tells us. “These beings were your greatest fans. They loved and admired you, and they wanted the very best for you.”
“Bullshit,” Alyx whispers to me again. “I wasn't feeling very loved when I blew my own head off.”
“A guide's job is to steer every human toward their ideal life path. You must discover what your human wants and help them achieve their goals. However, it is not your job to judge their goals. Regardless of your personal feelings, it is your duty to help them succeed.”
Alyx speaks up again. She's obviously the rebel of the class. “But what if you've been assigned to, like... Charles Manson? You have to help him be a dick?”
Amber's eyelashes flutter. I don't think she was expecting a question like that. “W-Well... only a few humans are truly wicked, Miss Keating. If you happen upon one, use your own judgment, and try to set him on a different path. We mustn't give up on anyone, even the wicked.”
“So basically... if you're a rapist's guide, you just have to stand there and watch him rape, and then keep on helping him?”
“Your human's mistakes are his to make, and every human makes them.” Amber is still smiling, but she's clearly struggling with Alyx's questions. “If you're truly unhappy with the human you've been assigned to, you can always request a transfer.”
“But someone's going to be saddled with the rapist, right? Or can you leave him guideless?” Alyx flashes a grin in my direction. I think she likes to see Amber flounder.
“No one is left... guideless.” Amber sneers at Alyx's invented word. “And no human is truly without hope. As I said, you should try to set them on the appropriate path, and--”
“I dunno,” Alyx shrugs. “I think Hitler seemed pretty hopeless.”
“Alyx!” I hiss at my roommate. “Behave!”
Amber chastises her—which is totally a surprise. Apparently, even an angel's patience can be tested. “For now, Miss Keating, keep your ears open and your mouth shut.”
Judging from Alyx's smug smile, the reprimand doesn't faze her.
“By now, some of you have probably discovered the joys of manifesting,” Amber continues. “In the Spirit World, we want your life to be as easy and joyful as it can possibly be. Everything is quite literally within your grasp. Jophiel?”
All of a sudden, a second teacher appears in the room. And... wow. He's easily the most beautiful man I've ever laid eyes on. His hair is literally the color of sunshine, and his blue eyes make oceans look dull. He's got the longest eyelashes I've ever seen on a guy, and his face is splattered with freckles. He's adorable.
“This is Archangel Jophiel,” Amber introduces him. “He will assist me in teaching the manifestation process. If you want to be a successful spirit guide, this is one of the most important lessons you'll ever learn.”
I can't stop staring at Jophiel. I didn't know men could be that beautiful. But he is an angel, so I guess it makes sense.
“Oh my god...” I whisper to Alyx. “He's too gorgeous.”
“He's cute,” my shrugging roommate apathetically agrees. “I think Amber's hotter, though. But uh... I think I probably pissed her off. Oh well.”
Jophiel looks older than me. He's got the face of a twenty-something, but I don't think it matters anymore. If he's an angel, for all I know, he could be a million years old.
When Jophiel finally speaks, I swoon. He's got a British accent. Why, God, did he have to have a British accent?
“Everyone start by trying to manifest something simple,” Jophiel instructs us in a voice that practically melts my ears. “Attempt to manifest something as trite as an apple. Open your hand, hold out your palm, and focus. You need to visualize it in you
r hand. Imagine how it looks, and imagine how it might feel.”
Alyx is the class' first success. She easily manifests a Royal Crimson poster and holds it up for everyone to see.
“Show off,” I snort. I keep staring at my open palm, but nothing's happening. I'm hopeless. I can't even squeeze out a stick of gum this time.
“I've manifested, like, a hundred of these posters,” Alyx brags. “I guess I'm a natural.” She raises the poster to her lips and kisses the band's lead singer.
All of a sudden, a banana peel appears in my hand. Not a banana—just the peel. “Oh no...”
When he hears me whimpering, Jophiel practically runs to my chair. “Were you trying to manifest a banana?”
The way he says banana is so cute, it makes me want to cry. “Uh huh. But I failed. Obviously.”
“Try again,” Jophiel encourages me. “If you're struggling, try to remember how a banana tastes. Try to visualize it with a few spots. If you visualize the banana with as many details as you possibly can, it's easier.”
“Yeah. He's right,” Alyx, my cocky friend, agrees. A few seconds later, she manifests a pillow shaped like a poop emoji.
“Oh my god, Alyx!” I exclaim, chuckling at her choice. “Why would you want to manifest that?”
“I don't know. Why not?” Alyx's head crashes into her new pillow. “I should probably shut up, though. I'm killing your concentration.”
“Indeed. Manifesting does require a great deal of concentration,” Jophiel agrees. “What's your name, love?”
Holy crap. The ridiculously hot angel just called me love. Even though I'm dying on the inside, I'm trying to look cool on the outside.
“I, uh... I'm Leigh.”
“Take a deep breath, Leigh. Relax your shoulders.” When Jophiel leans over me, I catch a whiff of his heavenly body. For some reason, he smells like mint. “Is your banana curved or straight?”
“Curved,” I reply.
“Is your banana--” Before he can finish his question, a small, spotted banana suddenly appears in the palm of my hand. “Aha! You did it. Well done.” Jophiel flashes such a gorgeous smile, I would probably die if I wasn't dead already. “Keep practicing, and I'm sure you'll master it in no time.”
“Thanks for helping me...” I whisper as he walks away. After my encounter with Jophiel, I'm pretty sure my cheeks will be eternally blushing.
“I bet you wish you could manifest his banana,” Alyx teases me. “The banana in his pa--”
I have to interrupt her. “Oh my god, please stop! I swear, if you finish that sentence, I'm going to manifest a mallet and whack you on the head!”
“Hey, I'm only speaking the truth,” Alyx says with a wink. “You want his body. It's okay. It's nothing to be ashamed of.”
As soon as every student has performed a successful manifestation, Amber moves on to the next part of our lesson. She teaches us how to see auras. Apparently, mine is pale green and Alyx is red. Jophiel's aura is a bright golden yellow, while Amber's is brownish-orange. I have no idea what any of this means, but it's pretty cool to see.
“Now...” Amber speaks up, “It's time to introduce your potential spirit guide partners. Give them a warm welcome, please!”
When our teacher claps her hands, twenty very different people shuffle into the room. Oddly enough, most of them are in period clothing. There are only a few guides in clothes from the twenty-first century, including an old white woman with wacky red hair. There's a handsome guy dressed in Victorian clothes. There's a black girl dressed up like a 1920's flapper—and she looks pretty amazing. There's a middle-aged guy dressed up like a railroad engineer. There's a cowboy, a geisha, and a samurai. The samurai looks really young.
“Whoooa...” Alyx whispers to me. “I wasn't expecting that. I feel like it's Halloween up in here.”
“Yeah. Totally.”
“Which one do you want?” Alyx asks. “If you got to choose your spirit guide, which one would you pick?”
“I... don't know.” My eyes dart from the flapper to the cowboy to the samurai. They all look like interesting people.
To be honest, though, I wish I could choose Jophiel.
On the second day of school, another guest teacher graces us with his presence. It's none other than Nikola Tesla, the famous inventor. As he walks around the classroom, I'm a little transfixed by how long and skinny his legs are.
“When I was in the mortal world, I once said... if you want to know the secrets of the universe, think in terms of energy, frequency and vibration. This is still true. If you want to connect with your human charges, you must endeavor to match their vibration.”
I'm trying to take notes, but my eyelids feel heavy. I don't know why. Without the burden of a physical body, I no longer require sleep. I think there's something about Tesla's accent that relaxes me. If he was one of my high school teachers, I'd probably fall asleep on my desk.
“As you already know...” Tesla continues, “it will be your job to figure out the wants and needs of your charges. If you're lucky, their desires will be obvious. If you aren't lucky, you'll have to get in their heads. To do this, you and your charge must be a vibrational match. There are many ways to succeed at this. Crystals are one way to facilitate the communication process. All of you will be provided with a quartz crystal wand. Holding the wand will occasionally result in a glimpse of your human's thoughts.”
I take notes, even though Tesla's lecture makes no sense to me. When I look over at Alyx, her eyes are closed. She's not even trying to make sense of it.
“If your human charge prays or meditates, that may also assist communication,” Tesla continues. “The process alters their brain waves, and you'll be able to hear their thoughts more clearly.”
“Ugh,” Alyx quietly complains—in a voice only I can hear. “This is so boring. I'd rather be playing a video game right now.”
“You can play video games here?” I whisper the question.
“Yeah. Why's that surprising? You can get anything, remember? I just manifested a copy of Soul Dragon 4 the other day. I can't play the online mode, but I'm still enjoying it.”
When Amber clears her throat, it takes me a moment to realize she's clearing her throat for us. I don't want another reprimand, so I clap a hand over my lips and focus on my notes.
“If your human reaches a state of deep meditation, you can even communicate back to them. They can hear your voice,” Nikola Tesla tells us. “Unfortunately, this is quite rare, so don't expect it to happen anytime soon.”
I wonder if it would be possible to contact my parents? Could I tell them I'm alright? Could I tell my sister I miss her? It's an interesting thought, but my family's not into meditation, so I guess I'm out of luck.
Amber rises from her chair and continues Tesla's lesson. “Every now and then,” she begins, “you will want to remind the mortals that you're watching over them. When times are terribly difficult, you want to let them know they're not alone. There are many ways this can be achieved.”
Tesla gives us our first example. “If you're in a time when radio exists, you can manipulate audio. Through white noise, you might be able to speak to your human charges. If an opportunity presents itself, your veteran spirit guide will show you this process.”
“You can also communicate through signs and synchronicities,” Amber says. “For example, one of my charges was a teenage writer. She was writing a story about a witch. I wanted her to know I was enjoying her story, so I manifested a witch on her television screen. Whether or not she understood the message... I can only guess. But synchronicities are one way you might reveal yourself to them.”
“You might encourage them to check the clock at 11:11,” Tesla suggests. “This is a sign we often use.”
“Or you can make their ears ring,” Amber adds. “A gentle ringing in their ears can alert them to your presence.”
My hand flows across the page as I scribble some notes. It's a lot of information to absorb, but at least I'm trying. Alyx isn't.
“There is one more thing you should bear in mind...” Tesla begins. When he comes to a sudden halt in front of my desk, my eyes bulge. “To borrow a quote from my dear friend Albert Einstein... the distinction between past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion. In our eyes, time appears to flow like a river. In actuality, every era exists simultaneously, and each one affects the other. Allow me to give you an example...” When Tesla's dark eyes land on mine, I feel intimidated for some reason. I want to slink under my desk and disappear. “What's your name, young lady?” he asks.
“Uh... Leigh.” My voice sounds tiny.
“Leigh, at some point, you might visit the year 1770,” Tesla says. “You might be the spirit guide of... let's say... Louis XV of France.”
“Really?”
“Perhaps. Bear in mind, this is merely an example.” When Tesla leans over my desk, I can feel my shoulders shrinking. “However, when Louis XV crossed over, he could have been your spirit guide as well. You affected his world in the perceived past, and he affected yours in the perceived present. In reality, it was all concurrent, and neither event could have occurred without the other. Do you understand?”
“Um...” I should give him an honest answer, right? “Not really.”
“Does anyone understand?” When Tesla glances around the room and sees a few nodding heads, he looks a bit more satisfied. “In time, I hope you will understand the concept.”
I don't think I'll ever understand the concept, and I definitely know Alyx won't. Oh well.
At the end of our long lesson with Nikola Tesla, Amber steps forward with important news.
“And that concludes your classroom education... for now. If you successfully complete five field tests, you will return for a final oral exam. Does anyone have any questions?” When no one raises a hand, Amber gathers a stack of papers from her desk. “Good! Now it's time to meet your spirit guide instructors. On this page, you'll see your guide's name, their mortal occupation and age, as well as their previous experience as a guide. You will also be given information on where to locate them.”