A Guide to the Other Side

by Robert Imfeld

  “You’re interested in the occult?” His eyebrows shot up. “Reaching another realm besides the physical one?”

  “Sure,” I said, feeling certain that if we were to nail down the specifics on what exactly he meant by that, we’d have very different opinions.

  “You’re just a kid,” he said, rummaging around on his desk, “so I’m not going to get too into it with you, but I’d feel comfortable giving you this, at least.”

  He handed me a pamphlet with the words “Introduction to the Far Shadow” boldly printed on the cover.

  “What’s the Far Shadow?”

  “Everything,” he said, smiling, “and nothing.”

  I flipped through some of the pages. Astral dimensions. Zodiac signs. Pentagrams. Moon cycles. Ritual introductions. This wasn’t going to help me find the Sheet Man.

  “You might be interested in page twenty-seven,” he said.

  I flipped to it and read the heading: “Book of Shadows.” It detailed a list of rituals and spells and some specific examples.

  “The Summoning of the Far Spirits?” I said. “Why would you need to summon spirits? They’re all around us.”

  “Some would disagree with you,” he said.

  Well, then, some were idiots who knew nothing.

  “It’s a challenging spell, not something you’d be able to do by any means without years of training behind you.”

  “Oh. Well, can you do it, then?”

  He chuckled, grabbed the pamphlet back, and, in a dramatic, hushed whisper, read:

  “Invoked you are

  To appear at my side.

  Travel through the realms

  And journey to my voice,

  Which beckons you past the stars,

  Through the dust, and into my presence.”

  Nothing happened.

  He frowned. “Still haven’t gotten that one to work yet.”

  “Have you gotten any of them to work yet?”

  “It’s harder than it looks, kid.” He sounded insulted. “You try it.”

  I sighed, knowing full well this was a huge waste of my time, but part of me felt bad I’d wounded his pride. I picked up the pamphlet, smiling earnestly at him, and recited the words.

  “Invoked you are

  To appear at my side.

  Travel through the realms

  And journey to my voice . . .”

  I’d looked up to make a face that said, You’re right, this is stupidly hard, and in that moment I learned two semirelated things. The first was that this guy was very much a fraud, in possession of no spiritual gifts whatsoever. The second was that I was very much not a fraud, because when I’d looked up, I’d seen a pair of shimmering red eyes, detached from their owner, hovering just above the skinny Wiccan guy.

  I dropped the pamphlet as the eyes pierced my own with their gaze. They squinted at me curiously, as though I were some kind of circus freak.

  “What’s wrong, kid?” the guy asked.

  “Look up,” I whispered.

  He looked right up at the eyes, which looked down at him in an almost pleasant way, and then he turned back to me. “What?”

  “I need to leave,” I said, hoping the eyes wouldn’t follow me out of the store. I actually wanted to look to see if there was an opposite spell—the Unsummoning of the Far Spirits, some kind of Get the Heck Out of Here chant—but I was too afraid to touch the pamphlet again, let alone say any more of the spell, in case the rest of red-eyed entity appeared. Instead I pulled out my lighter, surrounded myself with light, and hyperblasted some positive energy at the big red eyes floating above. They squinted, more annoyed than angry, as if the flames of fire were nothing more than irritating gnats.

  “Aw, come on, kid, it’s only a dumb spell,” the guy said, laughing. “A bunch of hocus-pocus from a dying branch of Wiccan beliefs.”

  I shook my head. “You need to be more careful with that stuff.” And I walked out the door.

  What had just happened? Whatever it was, it didn’t feel too menacing . . . it just looked menacing, which was almost as bad. I lit my lighter one more time for some reassurance, to make sure nothing negative had attached itself to me. I was fairly certain demons couldn’t do anything to me, since Kristina’s protections didn’t go away simply because she did. At least, I hoped they didn’t. I had no real frame of reference to work with.

  I debated whether I wanted to continue after having invoked the eyes of a Far Spirit, a phrase I wanted to extinguish from my mind as soon as possible. I thought back to the creation of my talisman, the weird phrases I’d had to recite and the strange ribbons of energy. Wasn’t that basically a form of pseudomagic? What else was I capable of? Shaken, but determined I was doing the right thing, I decided to keep going.

  The other shop, Madame Nadirah’s, was on the other side of the square, past the pumpkin-holding structure and down the main road a little bit. I admired the square again, steering clear of the Plegians and doing my best to ignore the ghosts making requests.

  “Please tell my daughter she doesn’t need to worry about maintaining my coin collection. I only collected them in the first place because I was so bored all the time, and I don’t want her ending up the same way.”

  “My son’s been asking for a sign from me. Go up to him and mention the explosion in Montana, he’ll get a kick out of it.”

  “My sister is right there and needs to know her son has been experimenting with some disgusting substances. Don’t walk away from me, young man. I know you can hear me.”

  “I’m on a mission,” I hissed to them. “I don’t have time to deliver your messages.”

  A blinking mom and her daughter looked back at me with concern, and I laughed and waved them off, which I realized only served to reaffirm that I was crazy.

  By the time I reached Madame Nadirah’s, I must have ignored at least ten ghosts, feeling a pit of guilt grow in my stomach with every rejection, but the good thing was that there were no Brutons or any other sort of demon lingering around the shop. It seemed nice enough. There were no tacky neon signs advertising psychic readings, nor were than any crystal balls or tarot cards in sight. There was just a sign that read MADAME NADIRAH’S MYSTIC SHOPPE, and purple curtains blocked the view inside.

  I opened the door, causing a loud bell to ring from somewhere in the back. Crossing the threshold, I was sort of charmed by what I saw. There was a spinning display of books and pamphlets advertising various ways to deepen spiritual connections (DON’T HATE. MEDITATE!); a colorful selection of meditation mats lining one of the walls (A STRONG MIND MAKES A LIFE DEFINED!); posters and plaques inscribed with uplifting platitudes (CUSTOM-MADE TO FIT YOUR SPIRITUAL NEEDS!); and a massive display filled with all kinds of candles (FIND THE SCENT AND HUE THAT’S JUST RIGHT FOR YOU!).

  As I was looking at a twenty-dollar candle that had sage-infused wax (BURN THE SAGE TO CLEANSE AND PURGE UNWANTED VISITORS ON THE VERGE!), a short woman with an out-of-control Afro emerged from the back room. She wore a loose-fitting green dress featuring elaborate gold stitching down the sides, and a pair of thick glasses magnified her eyes, making her pupils look twice their normal size.

  “I am Madame Nadirah,” she said in a breathy, excited voice. “Welcome to my shop. I notice you’re looking at the spirit-cleansing candle. Are you experiencing problems in your house?”

  “Uh, well, you could say that,” I said, shrugging. “I’m actually not here to buy any products. I’m wondering if I could make use of your abilities.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Ah, you seek guidance from the spiritual world, do you? I can help you, my child.” She stepped forward, looking me up and down and clucking her tongue. “You seem tense. Very tense. There is clearly something bothering you, child.”

  “You’re off to a good start,” I said, wondering why anyone would show up to a shop like this unless something was bothering them.

  “Come, follow me, we’ll sort it out together.”

  She headed for the back door, and we entered a da
rk room lit up by black lights, causing everything white to glow neon blue.

  “Oh man.” I blinked several times, hoping to make my eyes adjust to the sudden change in light. “Wasn’t expecting that.”

  “I feel it’s best to channel spirits in a way that can allow their energy to radiate in a different form, one that you may even be able to see.”

  “Right,” I said, rolling my eyes. Kristina had told me repeatedly that most living people couldn’t see ghosts, no matter what they claimed.

  “Now, get comfortable,” she said, pointing to a glowing cushion on the floor. I took my seat across from her, a low table between us. She had her hands on the table, palms down, fingers spread wide apart. A soothing song featuring low chants played quietly from somewhere in the room, and I felt a tingle around the base of my neck as the energy riled up around me. This woman had some kind of gift. I wasn’t sure to what extent, though.

  “Tell me your name, child,” she said peacefully, like she was starting a mediation.

  “Baylor Bosco.”

  “Now, Baylor, why don’t you . . .”

  She stopped suddenly, her illuminated eyes flicking up toward my face and zooming all over. She reached up and hit something on the wall.

  The black lights went off, and a harsh fluorescent light filled the small room instead. Madame Nadirah’s face had transformed from serene to irate.

  “Baylor Bosco?” she spit. “Are you kidding me?” Her voice had changed as well. The breathiness had disappeared, replaced by a sharp, sassy tone. “What are you doing in my shop?”

  “You’ve heard of me?”

  “Of course I’ve heard of you! You’re only my biggest customer stealer in the state. My shop’s been open for fifteen years, and ever since you started delivering messages left and right, my business has gone down by fifty percent.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I had no idea.” My hands were sweating.

  “You should be sorry,” she said. “It’s great you’ve actually been blessed with a gift and all, but a girl’s gotta eat. I’m gonna have to downsize soon, you know, and the real question is how can I downsize from something that’s already as tiny as a closet?”

  “Wait, what do you mean that I’ve ‘actually been blessed’? Are you saying you’re—”

  “Not like you,” she said. “Mmm, nope. I just give good advice. This is way more fun than having to use my psychology degree.”

  “Are you really admitting to me you’re a fraud?” I asked. “You really sit here and let people pay you for tricking them into thinking you can communicate with their loved ones?”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” she said. “My gift is more . . . intuitive. I could feel from the second you walked in that there was something different about you, but once you said your name, I wasn’t going to sit here and let you embarrass me.”

  “So you’ve got intuition,” I said. “An empath, right? I could feel that. I could feel the tingle in my neck when you were speaking. That’s real, at least.”

  She raised her eyebrows and let out a laugh after a few seconds. “You playing?”

  “No,” I said. “I could feel it.”

  “From the horse’s mouth!” she laughed, clapping her hands together. “My auntie was right. She’s obsessed with you, by the way, one of those Baylievers. Psh. Before you were born, though, she was always saying I was special, that I knew too much. I always just thought I was a good actress.”

  I thought of that tingle in my neck and wondered if it had maybe been a regular itch. I blocked out that thought. She was the only person in town who could help me. “I need your help, Madame Nadirah.”

  * * *

  Madame Nadirah did not like anything I had to say. She didn’t like the Sheet Man, she didn’t like knowing my dead twin followed me around, she didn’t like hearing that the dead twin had been ghostnapped, and she really, really didn’t like knowing that demons were actively floating around the city.

  “Those things aren’t standing outside my shop, right?”

  “No, and that’s another reason why I trust you—they wouldn’t try to influence a gifted person who had so much positive energy. It wouldn’t work. That’s why they leave you alone and stick to the frauds.”

  “Baylor, I just told you fifteen minutes ago I’m a fraud.”

  “You say that, but you’re wrong. You’ve managed to keep this store open this long.” I looked around the room. “You couldn’t have done that if there weren’t something here. I know you’re my best bet for entering the dimension where the Sheet Man resides. If you can’t help me, no one in this city can. Well, except for my baby sister, Ella, but she can’t speak English yet, so for now you’re it.”

  She sighed, twirling a curl around one of her fingers. “Fine,” she said. “Fine, I’ll help, but if something goes wrong, if one of those little demons swoops in and gobbles you up, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “I’m not worried,” I said excitedly. I reached into my backpack and pulled out the talisman. “I’m taking this with me.”

  “What could that be? Looks like a blind carpenter’s last try.”

  “It’s a talisman I made to stop the Sheet Man,” I said.

  “You make talismans?” she asked, nonplussed.

  “Not regularly,” I said. “This was my first time.”

  “Oh, Lord.” She shook her head, still looking dubiously at the talisman. “Baylor, neither one of us knows what we’re doing here. Even if that thing can protect you, how do you plan on getting to the dimension where the Sheet Man resides? Do you have a map you forgot to mention?”

  I didn’t want to admit I wasn’t sure about that, either. I had an idea, though. I once asked Aiden what he saw when he shut his eyes, and he said everything was black, but sometimes weird purple and green squiggles and shapes would dance around aimlessly.

  But for me, when I close my eyes, I initially see black, and then it’s almost as if I mentally walk forward a few feet, and the black dissolves away, letting me see exactly where I am in its pure state, with flowing energies and auras and unfiltered spirits. I assumed if I focused my energy on the Sheet Man and Kristina’s energies, I’d be led the right way.

  “I just have a feeling,” I said, hoping I sounded more confident than I felt.

  * * *

  We spent a few minutes going over the basics and coming up with the necessary protections. Then we got started.

  “Lie down, child,” she said, her voice losing its edge and taking on that breathy quality. “Get comfortable.”

  I sprawled out on the floor of the tiny back room and placed my head on the cushion. She flipped the black lights back on.

  “Really?”

  “Hey, you said I had intuition, and this is where I feel it the strongest. If you can have a talisman with an egg, I can have a room with some black lights.”

  “Fine.” I shut my eyes.

  She placed four sage candles around me, two by my wrists and two by my ankles. As she lit each one, she recited the phrase we came up with: “Let the fire shackle this body to the earth. Let my spirit keep him safe.”

  With each candle I imagined a fiery handcuff shooting out from the wick and wrapping itself around my wrist or ankle. This ritual was to make sure I wouldn’t be trapped in some other dimension while my body lay vulnerable in Madame Nadirah’s shop. Otherwise, I’d be easy prey for an insidious, sneaky Insymbio to take over my being.

  Once she was done lighting the candles, she placed her hands over my fast-beating heart and recited another phrase: “Let his soul find the path to healing. Let his light expel the darkness.”

  I felt secure and at peace knowing my body was protected and Madame Nadirah was keeping watch. I let my mind calm down and thought of nothing but Kristina and the Sheet Man.

  Kristina, if you’re there, if you can hear me, if you can feel me, then lead the way.

  It felt daunting. Although I was lying still and motionless, I was overwhelmed by how tired I sudd
enly felt. Kristina was so far away. How would I be able to find her?

  But slowly the black faded away, and the room materialized back into view. It was quieter, grayer. Madame Nadirah had disappeared, and I could feel an energy lifting my spirit. The feeling of exhaustion had vanished. I pushed myself up and cautiously stepped out of my body and into another dimension, hoping I wasn’t making a terrible mistake.

  I walked outside the shop, talisman in hand, and saw no one. The only things in this particular dimension were most likely me, the Sheet Man, and Kristina.

  Strange shadows floated by me, and I wondered if they were shadows of spirits, somehow reflected into this new dimension. The only question now was where to find the Sheet Man. I felt like there was a good chance that he would come to me if I was exposed for long enough.

  I walked up the main road, back to Central Square, and saw the massive structure where the demons had been reclining. The demons were gone, but two large shadows were in their place. I kept my distance. I didn’t know if I had any protections from them in this dimension, and I didn’t want to test it.

  I walked the square once, then headed down the deserted road in the direction where I lived. There was a chance he could be at my house, but it was a real shot in the dark.

  “Sheet Man!” I called out. “Kristina!”

  Nothing.

  Everything around me looked duller and lifeless. It was almost like the city I’d grown up in, but through some bizarre, groggy filter; the spark that made it colorful and lively was gone. It seemed like joy couldn’t possibly exist here, like a permanent winter.

  “Sheet Man! Alfred! Alfred Parker!” I called out. I had nothing to lose, right? Since I was the only one making noise in this dimension, I figured the sound would carry to wherever he was.

  “Kristina!”

  A fierce wind picked up, howling in my ears. I looked around, wondering which direction I could expect to see him coming from, when an odd flicker appeared in front of me, as though this dimension offered poor reception.

  After several flickers, in and out, Grandpa Bosco burst through in a shower of blue sparks, his body outlined in blue light.