In a flash she found herself inside the employee lounge, standing next to Imani. With her feet inches above the floor, she was actually hovering next to Imani. And as badly as she wanted to communicate with the nurse, she was moderately relieved that Imani couldn’t see her floating in mid-air.
Being unable to plant her feet firmly on the floor was a condition that she found embarrassing. It was an affliction that she had no control over. A few hours ago, she’d been walking just fine, but she’d somehow lost that ability. Gliding through the air instead of walking looked weird and undignified and was definitely not the most favorable way to present herself to the nurse that she desperately wanted to befriend.
CHAPTER 5
Imani admired the colorful display of baby gifts that were on exhibit inside the lounge. A baby bean bag caught her eye. As she brushed a hand across the soft blue fabric at the top of the adorable item, she was hit with a sudden blast of frigid air.
“Whew! Where’d that cold draft come from?” she asked, wrapping her arms around herself and looking in the direction of the sealed windows.
“What draft? I didn’t feel anything.” Niles gave Imani the side-eye as he bit into a thick slice of vanilla cake.
“You had to feel it. It felt like a blizzard just blew into the room,” she insisted, still looking around attempting to locate the source of the draft.
“Girl, what is up with you? A little while ago you were hearing ghostly whispers in the hallway, and now you’re feeling blasts of cold air.”
“I’m probably hallucinating from working a double. I’m so exhausted, I’ll barely be able to drag myself home. You have no idea how much I’m looking forward to a good night’s sleep and two glorious days off.”
“Lucky you. I’ll be here slaving away while you’re getting cozy with your new man.”
“He’s not my man. At least not yet. But my fingers are crossed.”
“Girl, it’s a done deal. Didn’t you say that you two text each other all day?”
“Yeah,” she said, smiling.
“That means he’s serious, and he plans on snatching you up and making things official very soon.”
“Oh, we’re getting married because we text a lot? That makes a lot of sense, Niles,” she said sarcastically. Chuckling, she shook her head and then glanced at her watch. “Look, I’m getting ready to head out. Are you leaving?”
“No, my supervisor offered me a few more hours overtime, and you know me…I don’t believe in turning extra money down.”
“Well…I’ll see you soon,” she said and took a few steps toward the door.
“Don’t forget, I want all of the tea about your date Friday night,” Niles said with a mischievous smile.
Imani smiled back at him, but didn’t commit to sharing details about her date with Logan. Niles was a friend and she liked him a lot, but her mother always said: “If you don’t want your business spread all over creation, then keep it to yourself.”
*****
When Imani left the lounge, Mila trailed a few feet behind her.
After Imani retrieved her backpack from her locker, Mila drifted alongside her as she entered the employee parking garage. Mila figured that sticking close to the only person who could sense her presence made more sense than hanging out with her other-self in the morgue.
Her life was so messed up right now. It was unbelievable that one version of herself was stuffed inside a refrigerator while another aspect was floating above ground, invisible to human eyes. But she held on to the hope that the nurse would soon be able to at least hear her.
Though it bothered Mila that Imani had perceived her entrance into a room as a blast of cold air instead of actually seeing her, she nevertheless felt encouraged by the fact that the nurse continued to be aware of her. It was only a matter of time before the two of them established clear communication. Mila simply had to keep trying to get through to her.
She wondered if Tucker had found a drink before the bars closed. Then it occurred to her that it would be impossible for him to get the bartender’s attention since no one could see or hear him. Most likely, he had given up on getting a drink and was back at their apartment, passed out.
But was he capable of passing out in his current state of existence? She didn’t feel the least bit tired and couldn’t imagine going to sleep until she got her situation resolved.
All of a sudden, there was a slight change in atmosphere and Mila found herself inside a dreary room with scratched and dusty wood floors. One moment she had been headed toward Imani’s Ford Fiesta and the next thing she knew, she was inside someone’s shabby living room that reeked of a combination of body odor and mold. A smell similar to a public urinal drifted from the bathroom and the stench of rotting food was heavy in the air in the kitchen. The entire place was a mélange of foul odors.
Before she could wrap her head around why she’d been transported to such a squalid environment she noticed Tucker sitting on a lumpy sofa next to a skinny, jaundiced-looking man who appeared to be in his fifties or sixties.
Placed on a rickety coffee table in front of the sofa was a jumble of items that included: shelled peanuts spilling from a cellophane bag, an ashtray that overflowed with cigarette butts, a smashed pack of Marlboro’s, torn-up lottery tickets, and a bottle of whiskey that was positioned in the center of the clutter.
Mila flicked a look of surprise at Tucker. “What the hell are you doing here? And who is that?” she whispered. Frowning in disapproval, she nudged her head toward the scuzzy guy who had picked up the liquor bottle and was taking a long gulp.
“Why’re you whispering, it’s not like he can hear you?” Tucker remarked in his typical cocky manner.
She cleared her throat and raised her voice to a normal tone. “Are you drinking with him?”
“I wish I could drink with my new buddy,” Tucker replied, smiling fondly at the old guy.
Grossed-out by the deplorable conditions, Mila gazed around the room with her nose turned up and her lips pursed in repulsion. She shook her head in frustration. “I’ve been running around like crazy, trying to get help for us. I went to my parents for help, and ended up witnessing their heartbreaking grief when they were told that I’d been killed in a car accident, which obviously isn’t true,” she said, gesturing toward her body. “Unfortunately, I’m invisible and wasn’t able to let them know that I’m all right.”
“But you were killed in the car wreck, Mila. We both were. I’ve accepted it and so should you,” Tucker said in a gentle tone.
“No, we weren’t. Look at us…we’re obviously alive.” Mila said in a strained voice. “I think we’re being victimized.”
Tucker snorted. “Victimized by whom?”
She shrugged. “The government, maybe? Russians. Aliens…who knows? But something strange has happened to us and we should be trying to get answers instead of wasting time like you’re doing.”
Tucker gazed at Mila pityingly. “I know it’s hard to face the fact that we’re dead, but you have to eventually come to terms with that grim reality. I didn’t want to believe it either. Heck, you saw how I acted at the hospital…I was completely in denial, but I can’t fool myself any longer. Wake up, Mila, and stop with your crazy theories about a government plot. I mean…seriously…do you realize how ridiculous you sound?”
“My theories may sound a little farfetched, but at least I’m trying to get to the bottom of this mystery. I’m attempting to do something…unlike you,” she spat bitterly. “You prefer to give up on life and sit in this crappy apartment, watching a poor old, alcoholic destroy what’s left of his liver.” Mila shook her head. “What’re you getting out of this, Tucker? Why’re you hanging around this decrepit, old guy?”
“I’m getting plenty out of it. Have you tried eating or drinking anything?”
“No. Food is the last thing on my mind. I’m too upset to even think about my appetite.”
“Mila, you don’t have an appetite because you’re not physical anymo
re,” Tucker explained with uncharacteristic patience.
“I do have a body,” she said, running her hands over her frame. She glided over to him and seized his hand and squeezed it tightly. Relief washed over her at the sensation of his warm flesh in her hand, and she was thrilled that her fingers didn’t slide right through his hand.
“I can feel life pulsing through your veins, Tucker, so how can you possibly believe that you’re dead?” Mila said rationally.
She released his wrist and pressed her palm against her chest while inhaling deeply. “My heart is beating, like it always has. I’m alive and breathing. So, please don’t try to convince me that I’m dead.” She spoke in a rush of breathy words, her tone, screechy, bordering on hysteria.
Tucker stood up and placed an arm around her. “Calm down, babe. It’s gonna be okay.”
“How will it be okay? I want everything to go back to normal, but I’m running out of ideas. How are we going to get out this mess that we’re in?”
“We have to make the best of our lives—the way they are now,” he said solemnly.
She wriggled free from his embrace. “I don’t want to make the best of this bizarre existence. I want things to go back to normal, and if we don’t hurry up and do something, people are going to believe that we’re really dead. They’re going to try to bury or cremate us. Is that what you want, Tucker? God only knows what will happen to us after they dispose of our other bodies that are sitting on ice inside the hospital’s morgue.”
“Do you even hear yourself, Mila? Why do you think our bodies are in the morgue?”
“I don’t know, Tucker,” she admitted wearily. “Those bodies might not even belong to us. They could be doppelgangers and part of a government plot. Or there might be some type of cosmic error that is somehow preventing us from being able to communicate with other people.”
“There’s no cosmic mistake, Mila. We’re spirits, now…and our bodies are in the morgue because they’re dead.”
“That’s not true. How can we be dead when we’re standing here talking to each other?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, we can only talk to each other. We can only touch each other. I don’t know about you, but I can read minds, and that’s not a trait that I possessed prior to the accident.”
Mila looked at him, absorbing his words. “Yeah, I can hear thoughts, too, but I believe that ability has something to do with a shift in consciousness.”
Tucker regarded her with a doubtful expression on his face. “Let me ask you a question.”
“Go ahead.”
“Why did you come here…to this apartment? Before the accident, you said you wanted to break up with me, so why’re you here?” he asked with an arched brow.
“Because…” She shook her head briskly, as if trying to clear her mind. “Look, I’m not trying to get back with you. I seriously don’t think we’re good for each other.”
“I can accept that, but you’re still not answering my question. Why are you here?”
“I don’t really know. I didn’t intend to come here. I don’t even know where the hell I am. One instant I was in the hospital’s parking garage and the next I found myself here in this dump with you and him.” She nodded toward the old alcoholic.
“I take it that you didn’t walk here, or take an Uber, or hitch a ride…correct?” Tucker asked, sarcastically.
“No! I don’t even know this address,” she replied in irritation.
“So, how did you get here?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been traveling to various places without any mode of transportation. When I think about someone, I seem to pop up at wherever they happen to be. But I wasn’t even thinking about you, Tucker, so I don’t know how I ended up here.” She gripped her head in frustration. “I can’t take much more of this confusion. I need answers.”
“You’re in luck because I have some answers for you,” he replied.
She gazed at him expectantly.
“I was thinking about you, wondering how you were making out without the benefit of a flesh and blood body—”
Mila made a little sound of protest.
Tucker held up his hand. “Let me finish. All it took was the thought of you to transport you here. If that doesn’t prove that you’re a spirit—that we both are spirits—then I don’t know what does.”
Mila blew him off with a hand wave. “I’m not buying that handy explanation, Tucker. There’s no fucking way that I’m a spirit, and neither are you. If that’s the case, where are the other spirits? Why didn’t anyone come and meet us and explain the rules of the spirit world. Why would we be left to wander around in confusion?”
“I wish I had those answers,” he said regretfully.
“Nothing makes sense, but I’m not going to give up. I’m going to get to the bottom of this madness after I get some help from Imani.”
“Who’s Imani?”
“A nurse from the hospital. She’s the only person who senses my presence, and it’s only a matter of time before I’m able to communicate with her.”
“In other words, you’re connected to her in the same way that I’m connected to him.” Tucker nodded toward his unwitting friend from the bar.
Mila recoiled. “Ew, no. My connection with Imani is nothing like your connection to that bum. I’m working on making her hear me and hopefully see me. I need to communicate with her so that she can contact my parents and let them know I’m okay. I’m also hoping that she’ll be willing to plead my case to someone with experience in…” Stumped for words, Mila’s voice trailed off.
“You want her to hunt down someone with experience in communicating with the dead?” Tucker suggested.
“I’m not dead,” Mila insisted, speaking through clenched teeth. “I want Imani to find someone in the medical field who’s a trained professional and thinks outside the box. Someone who can scientifically figure out a way for both of us to resume our normal lives.”
“Good luck with that,” Tucker said with a smirk. “After being ignored by everyone I encountered, I gave up trying to be seen or heard. I’m satisfied being able to influence my new buddy to drink himself into oblivion.” Tucker grinned mischievously.
“I don’t get it. Why are you satisfied watching that guy drink?”
“His name is Henry, and I latched onto him at a seedy little tavern near the hospital. After being ignored by the bartender and the patrons, I surprised myself when I was able to telepathically hear what Henry was thinking. After the bartender cut him off, I heard Henry promise himself that he would stop drinking. He told himself that he’d get cleaned up and would try to get his life in order. But I sensed that they were empty promises, the kind he’d made a million times before. So, after he stumbled out of the tavern, I followed him. I got inside his head and convinced him to go to an after-hours spot and buy that bottle of Wild Turkey that he’s guzzling down right now. The funny thing is that he prefers vodka, but since I like whiskey, that’s what I persuaded him to buy…and he has no idea why he’s swigging down brown liquor,” Tucker said with laughter in his voice.
Mila turned her head in Henry’s direction and watched as he downed the remaining contents of the bottle. Perspiration covered his coarse face and the front of his thinning, greasy hair was plastered to his forehead. With his eyes closed and head lolling, he slumped forward and belched.
Mila screwed up her face in disgust. “I don’t understand how you could possibly benefit from the whiskey that he’s drinking. You seem to be sober as a judge, while Henry is completely wasted. How are you getting enjoyment from his experience?”
“It’s hard to explain, but it’s sort of like getting a contact high when someone else is smoking weed. Only in this instance I get the pleasure of experiencing my favorite liquor without any side effects. Meanwhile, poor Henry ends up pissy-drunk and hungover in the morning. And he also ends up with that awful feeling of regret while I’m guilt-free.”
“What you’re doing to that poor man is mean
and it’s totally unfair to him,” Mila said quietly.
“Life isn’t fair. If it were, I’d still be with my band, preparing for our tour instead of slumming it with ol’ Henry,” Tucker said with a scornful chuckle.
“It’s your fault that you were kicked out of the band, and it’s your fault that you and I are in this insane situation. You can sit around feeling sorry for yourself, but I’m not giving up.”
“You’ve always been stubborn,” he said snidely.
“You’re right. I was stupid and stubborn when I ignored my parents’ warnings and got involved with the likes you!” She turned and hurried toward the door, moving so quickly, she was nothing more than a blur.
Tucker laughed. “How do you explain your inability to walk properly? Flying is cool, though. It beats walking.”
“I don’t fly; I glide,” she spat.
“Potatoes…potahtoes,” he teased.
Unable to grasp the doorknob, Mila let out a sigh. Determinedly, she tried again. This time when her fingers slid through the metal knob, she felt the familiar sickening sensations of lightheadedness and disorientation.
She turned around and gaped at Tucker, helplessly.
He regarded her with amusement in his eyes. “Just walk through the fucking door. It’s less complicated.”
CHAPTER 6
Bone tired, Imani would have preferred to jump right into bed and wake up sometime next week, but she didn’t have that luxury. Her nightly hair ritual required that she remain awake for at least another thirty minutes.
As she spritzed the front section of her thick hair with rose water, she reflected on the sixteen hours she’d put in at the hospital. Her job was never easy, but today had been particularly difficult. During the first shift, the ER team had lost a toddler—an innocent three-year-old—who had picked up his father’s loaded hand gun and shot himself in the neck. It was rare for medical professionals to show emotion, but when the little boy flat lined during surgery, Imani and several others had been unable to hold back tears. The attending physician cursed at the senseless death and angrily toppled a tray filled with surgical instruments.
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