Imani took a few more retreating steps, but the cat continued to advance toward her. She kicked at it. Not a hard kick that would cause an injury, but hard enough to make it go away. But it didn’t go away. More agitated by the kick than frightened, the cat hissed at her.
Suddenly, the cat shrieked out a long cry. It arched its back in an extreme manner, and every hair on the cat’s body stood up straight as if it had been electrocuted. Hissing, the cat began to move around Imani’s legs in a swift and aggressive manner. With its back arched high and its hair sticking out all over its body, the cat looked deformed and terrifyingly hostile.
“Ew, get away from me.” Imani scurried backward, trying to avoid being touched by the menacing animal.
“Eee-mahn-eee,” the cat suddenly screeched.
Imani shot a dumbfounded look at Niles. “Did you hear that?”
With eyes widened in shock, Niles gawked at Imani and then gawked at the feline menace. “Fuck this! We’re outta here. That goddamn cat just cried out your name—clear as a bell—like it’s possessed or something. I’m not sticking around for whatever it plans to do or say next. Come on, Imani. Run, girl!”
Niles grabbed Imani by the arm and together they hurried in the direction of her car.
CHAPTER 14
Mila found Tucker in a cocktail lounge called High Octane. The dimly lit lounge where good-looking bartenders served over-priced drinks to an elite group of millennials had a haughty vibe, and it was a prime spot for conducting business and networking. High Octane with its custom furnishings, a bronze chandelier, gleaming mirrors, and a marble-topped bar was a far cry from the seedy little hole-in-the-wall tavern where Tucker had latched on to the alcoholic named Henry.
Behaving surprisingly civilized, Tucker sat at the bar politely sipping a Manhattan instead of guzzling down shots of Southern Comfort as he usually did. It was unusual to see him literally looking and acting like someone else. He had taken over Glen, the day-trader’s body, and was chatting with an attractive female bartender, educating her on the stock market.
Mila sidled up to Tucker. “You’re such a fraud, Tucker,” she whispered in his ear. “You don’t know the first thing about buying and selling stocks, so stop being fake.”
“Good to see you, Mila,” Tucker said, speaking telepathically. “How do you like the new me?” Pleased to be in Glen’s body, he ran a proud hand down his pinstripe shirt sleeve, smoothing out the fabric.
Mila shrugged. “Glen isn’t as handsome as you, but I’m sure he has a much better personality.”
“Actually, Glen’s personality sucks. He’s painfully dull until I take over and enliven things, boost up his ego, and make him seem much more interesting to the opposite sex.” Proving his point, Tucker, posing as Glen, tossed a smile at the bartender who had moved to the far end of the bar and was pouring drinks for a group of young businessmen. It was clear that she was interested by the sultry smile that she sent his way.
“So what brings you here, Mila?” Tucker asked. Since Mila was undetectable to the human eye, Tucker didn’t use his vocal chords to communicate with her. People would think he was talking to himself if he spoke verbally, and he didn’t want Glen to appear to be unstable.
“I want to know why you didn’t bother to inform me that Imani has the power to eject me from her body whenever she wants.”
Tucker frowned “Really? That’s weird. Glen has never done that to me; I had no idea it was possible.” He gazed at her curiously. “She’s supposed to be in a dormant state. How’d she even know you were there?”
“I have no clue.”
“What exactly happened?”
“Well, after numerous attempts I managed to take over her body. After lying down in bed and falling asleep, I woke up to the sensation of struggling with an invisible force. I now know that the force was Imani. I tried to subdue her, I really tried to retain her body, but apparently her will was stronger than mine.”
“It’s not a big deal, you can always get back in,” Tucker said, matter of fact.
“I know, but I didn’t appreciate getting kicked out before I was ready to relinquish control of her. Is there a way for me to stay as long as I want? I mean, if I’m the powerful spirit, shouldn’t it be my choice to stay or leave, and not hers?”
“How long did you want to stay? Four or five hours are usually long enough for me. I never tried to stay inside Glen for an extended period. Why would I want to deal with the misery of being sick and hung over after getting wasted?”
“How come you’re not getting wasted now?” Mila nodded toward the cocktail he was sipping politely.
“This is one of the places where Glen networks, and I try to be on my best behavior when I’m here. I act respectable, like Glen, when I’m around his business associates, but I get pissy drunk and do all kinds of dirt when I’m behind closed doors,” he said, breaking into a cocky grin.
“This isn’t just fun and games for me. I want to be a complete person—not a ghoul that invades a body for a limited amount of time. I realize I can’t have my own life back, but I can have Imani’s, and I plan to live hers to the fullest,” Mila said with emotion.
“I don’t think that’s possible, Mila. You’re never going to be a complete person again, so you might as well get whatever pleasure you can out of borrowing the nurse’s body. Maybe you need a backup body, someone you can slip into when you’ve worn out your welcome with the nurse,” he said, chuckling.
“It’s not funny. I had just started to feel human again, but here I am, tossed back into the spirit world. And speaking of the spirit world…why are you and I the only spirits wandering around? It’s ridiculous that I have to wing it and rely on you for direction. Isn’t being dead bad enough? Why do I have to wander around without the guidance of a more experienced soul?” Mila grumbled.
“I don’t know where the other, smarter souls hang out, but I’ll let you know if I find out,” Tucker said sarcastically. “In the meantime, I’m kind of busy. I only gave you the time of day because I thought you had a change of heart and came to tell me you were interesting in hooking the nurse up with Glen.”
Mila let out a sigh. “I told you that I’m not participating in anything sexual with you. Those days are over!”
“Cool. Well, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to my conversation with the pretty bartender. I was thinking about inviting her back to Glen’s place when she gets off.”
“Good for you,” Mila said dryly.
She had planned on telling Tucker that she had figured out a way to possess cats, but since he was being such an asshole, she decided to keep the information to herself.
****
Since her funeral, Mila had visited her parents’ home often, but never hung around very long. She would have liked to, but she couldn’t bear witnessing their suffering. The level of heartache within the Pemberton household was so strong it prevented them from feeling the vibrations of love that Mila tried to send their way.
The combined grief of Heather and Thomas Pemberton was so thick in the air it was suffocating not only to them, but to Mila as well. Feeling as if she was being smothered by the heavy weight of her parents’ misery, she considered leaving the household as quickly as she had arrived.
But she couldn’t. She had to be there for her mother and father. She had to do everything in her power to lessen their emotional suffering.
Thomas wasn’t home when Mila arrived, but the energy of his grief permeated the residence. He was out playing golf with one of his buddies. He had hoped that the resumption of his favorite leisure activity would anesthetize the pain of losing his only child. Thus far he had only pretended to enjoy himself, but had high hopes that over time the sport would once again give him pleasure.
Unlike her husband, Heather Pemberton, couldn’t fake a cheerful façade. She hadn’t left the house since the day of Mila’s funeral. Her grief was so profound and so debilitating she was rarely able to get out of bed, and when she did, her once
perfect posture was slumped and her movements were slow and labored as if each step, no matter how small, required a tremendous amount of effort. Once meticulously well-groomed and fashionable, Heather no longer bothered with her physical appearance, and her formerly lustrous silver-streaked hair now hung limp around her shoulders.
Expressing a keen sense of grief and loss, Heather whimpered Mila’s name throughout the day and sobbed bitterly for most of her waking hours, and the result of the constant crying was a headache that felt as if her head might explode. A part of her welcomed a fatal aneurysm or any kind of sudden death. She was willing to endure anything that would reunite her with her beloved child.
Heather’s smile used to light up a room, but the glow of that smile seemed to have dimmed forever. Afraid that her mother might spend the rest of her life being an unhappy and despondent recluse, Mila was determined to get through to her to let her know that she still existed.
On several occasions Mila had tampered with the electricity in her parents’ home, flicking lights off and on and even going as far as shattering a light bulb. Unfortunately neither Heather nor Thomas recognized the electrical problems as signs that Mila was there with them. They had no idea that it was Mila’s way of saying, Hello, I’m here!
Not being able to talk to Heather was extremely frustrating and Mila concluded that the only way to lift her out of the depths of despair was to have a direct conversation with her. A conversation that would convince Heather that she was still here, but leading a different kind of life.
Mila glided close to her mother and whispered in her ear, “I have to go, Mom, but I’ll be back real soon.”
With a new sense of purpose, Mila decided that it was of the utmost importance that she takeover Imani’s body, once again. And the next time she had access to Imani’s vocal chords, she’d have a conversation with her mother that left no doubt in Heather’s mind that her daughter was still alive and well.
CHAPTER 15
Two pizzas were delivered to Imani’s apartment and she set the boxes on the coffee table in the living room. One pizza was topped with pineapple chunks, anchovies, and black olives, Logan’s choice. The other was topped with spinach and mushrooms, Imani’s favorite. The sweet and savory combo that Logan liked sounded terrible, but she promised him she’d try it. One bite and she wrinkled her nose, ready to spit it out. “This is nasty, Logan. What’s wrong with your taste buds?”
Logan laughed. “You don’t have to eat it—more for me.” He retrieved the partially-eaten slice from her plate and returned it to the pizza box.
To wash down the pizza, he brought a six-pack of a craft beer called Geary’s Pale Ale, and he and Imani cheerily clinked their bottles together before taking swigs of the fancy brew.
“This is good,” she said, nodding and taking another swallow. “Your taste in pizza sucks, but your beer selections are always on point.”
“Pineapple and anchovy pizza is an acquired taste, but I’m glad you approve of the beer,” Logan replied as he turned the bottle up to his lips.
Dressed in a hoodie, sweat pants, and sneakers, he looked boyishly handsome. His lips looked so sexy when he smiled, Imani was perfectly willing to forego the Netflix movie and lead him straight to the bedroom. But not wanting to seem like a nympho, she stuck to the planned itinerary and clicked on the TV.
Unable to find a movie worth watching, they decided to check out a basketball game that happened to be on ESPN, the Golden State Warriors versus the Houston Rockets. Totally into the game, Imani jumped up and squealed in delight each time Steph Curry landed a three-pointer while Logan pumped his fist and bellowed, “Yes,” every time James Harden dunked on Draymond Green.
Though Imani and Logan were cheering for opposing teams and although they preferred different kinds of toppings on their pizza, they were a good match, and were very much in sync. The evening was shaping up to be much more fun than her afternoon with Niles had been.
“You won’t believe what happened to me this afternoon,” Imani said during halftime.
“Something bad?” Logan asked with his eyebrows knitted together.
She nodded. “Yeah, kind of. I had lunch with my friend, Niles, and a stray cat—”
“Wait, what? Who’s Niles?” Logan interrupted.
“A friend…and a co-worker,” she said, playfully rolling her eyes.
“He’s a friend, huh?” Logan sounded half playful and half serious. “People say that a man and a woman can never truly be friends. One of the two is just going along with the friendship, but will jump at the opportunity for something more intimate. So, should I be worried about your friendship with your coworker?”
“Not at all,” she assured him. “And for the record I don’t agree that men and woman can’t be friends. I’ve had plenty of male friends that I wasn’t the least bit interested in.”
“Maybe you weren’t interested, but…as gorgeous as you are, I’m a hundred percent certain that those male friends would have jumped at the chance to get out of the friend zone.”
Imani held up her hands. “I wouldn’t know. My male friends and I always kept it platonic.” Imani was tickled that Logan was such an open book and didn’t bother to disguise his jealousy. She’d be just as concerned as he if he had casually mentioned having lunch with a female coworker. The only difference was that she wouldn’t have been as forthcoming as Logan. She would have pretended to be unbothered while panicking on the inside and feeling insecure about his friendship with a female coworker. Her unspoken suspiciousness and insecurity would eventually fester and eat away at their budding relationship. She gave a sigh of relief, grateful that Logan didn’t conceal his feelings the way that she did.
She told herself that exposing her true emotions was something she’d have to start working on.
“There’s absolutely nothing between Niles and me,” she repeated. “He’s not into women…Niles is gay. Anyway, we had lunch together at a restaurant where some guy he has the hots for works. Niles just wanted to be near him.”
Satisfied with her answer, Logan said, “Oh, okay. So what did you say happened after lunch?” He gazed at her, giving her his undivided attention.
“It’s so crazy, you’re not gonna believe it.”
“Try me.”
“Well, this stray cat came out of nowhere and started running around my ankles, but not in a friendly, purring kind of way. The cat was scraggly and beat up like it had been in a brawl with another animal. I tried backing up, and I kicked at it, but it was super aggressive and started hissing at me like I was a mortal enemy. Niles tried to scare it off, but that didn’t work and seemed to make the cat get even more hostile. Niles and I ended up literally running from the cat, but we before we fled the scene, the cat shrieked my name! It was so eerie, Logan. I mean…as plain as day, a freakin’ cat screeched out my name. How crazy is that?”
Logan shook his head and laughed in disbelief. “You mean to tell me that you two grown-ass people hauled ass because a little kitten was hungry and wanted to be fed. Damn, baby, that was kind of cold of you.”
“No, it wasn’t like that at all. It probably sounds heartless, but you had to be there. That cat was not a harmless little kitten, it was an adult cat and it was trying to attack me. To be honest, I had considered feeding it, but when it yelled my name, I was done.”
She didn’t want to risk sounding crazy by confiding to Logan that today wasn’t the first time she’d heard a cat speak her name. But this time she had a witness, which was why she didn’t mind sharing the weird experience with him.
“Animals don’t have language skills,” Logan explained. “Some animals can mimic the sounds of human speech, but not cats. They don’t have the mental capacity to know or remember names, nor can they coherently verbalize. Those are scientific facts. Most likely, the stray cat vocalized a high-pitched, three-syllable wail that coincidentally sounded like your name.”
“You’re probably right,” Imani acquiesced. There was no point in trying
to convince Logan that there was something supernatural about her encounter this afternoon.
Changing the subject, she said, “Want some dessert? I have Cherry Garcia ice cream and a frozen pound cake.”
The Cherry Garcia is my favorite,” Logan said.
“Mine, too!” Imani exclaimed as she began to clear off the coffee table that was cluttered with the pizza boxes, beer bottles, paper plates and napkins.
Assisting in the cleanup, Logan picked up the empty beer bottles and followed Imani to the kitchen. She appreciated the way he had pitched in. A lot of guys would have sat back, expecting to be waited on, but Logan wasn’t like that.
They returned to the living room and sat on the sofa, cuddled closely. Imani alternated between feeding herself and hand-feeding Logan spoonful’s of ice cream, and it was such an unexpectedly sensual experience that neither one of them noticed when the second half of the game commenced.
Unable to resist, she leaned over and kissed his chilled, sweet lips.
“You taste good,” she murmured.
“So do you,” he softly replied.
During the third quarter of the game, they watched a little bit of the game, but they mostly kissed and made out on the sofa like teenagers. By the fourth quarter, Imani couldn’t take the heat any longer.
“We can finish watching the game in the bedroom if you’d like,” she suggested.
“Let’s go,” he readily agreed.
“I’ll meet you there,” she said, heading to the kitchen to put the container of ice cream back in the freezer and to rinse off the spoon they’d shared.
In the kitchen she opened the freezer and when she extended an arm to stick the ice cream container inside, she felt a sudden blast of arctic air directly behind her, blowing against her back like a whirling wind storm. But how was it possible for a harsh wind to get inside her kitchen when the windows were closed? Plus, it was a warm spring evening, not the middle of winter.
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