Ice covers his nails, and continues flowing down his hand and wrist like water. It keeps covering more of him until it reaches his elbow, and into his robe where I can’t see. I’m guessing it continues to other parts of his body, but I can’t tell.
Amazed, I reach out and touch the ice to make sure I’m not imagining things. Sure enough, it’s rock hard. Cold ice is covering his hand and arm.
He’s startled by my forwardness, though, and the ice seems to disappear – almost absorbed – into his skin rather than melt away, leaving my hand on top of his. He shudders slightly but doesn’t pull away.
I tug his hand closer to me and examine it with both of mine. He is tense, but doesn’t resist at all. His skin is slightly cool and welcoming with no sign of the ice. I look up at him, not letting go.
“Can you do it again?” I ask.
The thrill in my voice is extremely noticeable. I even bite my lower lip in anticipation. I look up from his hand to beg him with my eyes, hoping it will make him more likely to do what I ask.
He grins and obliges, repeating his trick for me again. This time I squeal with excitement watching the ice reappear on his fingers and flow up his arm.
“This doesn’t frighten you?” he wonders, aloud.
“No, I think it’s amazing!” I cheer.
My hands run over his to see if my body heat will melt the ice encasing his hand, but it doesn’t.
“You’re not a normal human, are you?” he smiles, analyzing me as if I’m suddenly going to sprout wings and fly away.
“I suppose you could say that,” I affirm.
It isn’t an insult, more of an observation.
“Why?” I ask him.
“Well, the living can’t usually see a Reaper, not even if they are close to death. Not only can you see me, you can see other spirits as well. That, alone, makes you special and sets you apart.”
“It makes me wonder what else you have hidden within you,” he continues, “and what sort of power you may be able to possess one day. When you pass on to Eden, you will more than likely find yourself in one of the Reaper Divisions.”
“It can’t be that unusual to see ghosts…” I hope, halfheartedly. “But it would be really cool to make ice appear out of thin air.”
“I’m sorry to say that it is rare for a living being to be able to see spirits,” he says, disregarding my attempt at changing the subject. “In my approximately 210 years of being a Reaper and Captain, I have not come across another living human that was able to see me. There are myths about such anomalies, but no evidence until now.”
“I’ve, also, never been so perplexed and curious about anyone like this before, either,” he admits. “I feel an urge to protect you, yet I feel as if I can let my guard down with you as well. It is quite a strange and confusing concoction that I’m still trying to decipher.”
The breeze picks up as he finishes speaking, reminding me of how dark and cold it is. It’s much later than I expect. Time has practically flown by while we talked. I don’t want to, but I have to be getting back home.
I sigh, speaking.
“I think I should be going home.”
Standing, I brushing myself off.
“Did I say something to offend you?” he asks, standing up as well.
I peer into his eyes and smile. His concern is genuine, and sweet.
“No, you’ve been wonderful. I wish I didn’t have to leave, but my family, well, my dad, will start to worry if I don’t get home.”
“Would you like an escort?”
I giggle. Knowing now how old he is, it’s entertaining hearing him speak so formally.
“Sure, that would be great.”
Thankfully, there’s still no one on the streets as we walk. I don’t care for the staring and it would look like I was talking to myself if anyone was paying attention. I ask him more about what it’s like being a Captain and what kind of power he possesses, and he does his best to explain it to me without a demonstration. Apparently, if he shows me his full power, he will end up destroying most of the town.
I’m disappointed, but I understand.
It’s enticing knowing this boy has so much power and somehow fancies me. I grab his hand and he doesn’t shudder at all this time. He entangles his fingers with mine, and gently squeezes. We stop a block down the street from my house to say goodbye.
“Will I see you again?” I ask, hope fluttering in my chest.
“I promise you will,” he smiles. “I don’t think I could stay away from you if I tried.”
I can’t help but laugh.
“I hope you’ll come visit me again soon.”
“Once I check back in at Eden, I will make an appearance. No one will stop me.”
I lick my lips and take a chance. A leap of faith I’ve never taken before. I wrap my arms softly around the back of his neck and pull him into a sweet kiss. He isn’t sure how to react at first. If I didn’t know any better, I would think it’s his first kiss.
Within moments he relaxes, and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me against him.
Not knowing when I will see him again makes it difficult for me to pull away. It could be a week from now, or it could be months. No matter what happens though, I know I will be able to wait for him.
Chapter 5
I wake up the next day afraid it had all been a dream. That there really isn’t a Reaper boy – Reaper Captain – that finds me fascinating, and he doesn’t have intriguing ice manipulating abilities. The fact that life at home is going on as usual almost confirms that for me.
It isn’t until I walk into my bedroom after breakfast and see a knitted blue scarf sitting on my desk that I realize it hadn’t been a dream. I’m surprised I didn’t notice it until now. The scarf is different shades of blue that remind me of his eyes, hair, and the color of the ice that covered his hand and arm the night before.
It looks handmade, but when the hell would he have had the time to make it? I don’t even know when he could have purchased it.
I smile, biting my lower lip. I have a hard time believing anyone could enjoy my company this much, let alone reciprocate a romantic interest. I can’t help myself, though, I put it on. It’s the softest piece of clothing I have ever owned. Softer than my baby blanket.
He’s sweet enough to give me something to remember him with, and keep me company while I wait for him. It makes me feel bad that I didn’t think of giving him something before he left. Of course, he didn’t really give me the chance to think about it either.
Though I want to stay in my room all day and gush over my gift, today is Saturday. It’s the day I visit an elderly man – deceased, of course – near a park a few blocks south from the house.
He had been watching his granddaughter play on the playground when he had a sudden heart attack and no one knew how to help him. A bystander called 911, but the paramedics didn’t make it to him in time.
I put on my winter coat, hat, and gloves, intending to leave the house. I saunter downstairs to find Ian yelling at the television for some reason, Lana giggling at him, and dad finishing up the dishes.
Dad laid a lunch out for me on the table to take with me. He knows that I go out every weekend, but has no idea what I actually do while I’m out. I pick up the brown paper bag and thank him before heading towards the front door.
“Thanks dad,” I call.
“Sunny, come here for a minute, please.”
I do a quick mental check for anything I did that would have upset him. He doesn’t sound angry, but that statement always worries me. I know I haven’t done anything wrong, but whenever dad says that, it always makes me nervous. I turn around and walk back into the kitchen to see him, worried about what he wants.
“Yeah, dad?”
“Everything okay?” he asks me, hands still in hot water.
His back is to me, so I can’t tell what he’s thinking or feeling by his expression.
“Yeah, nothing’s changed,” I shrug.
I
’m trying to look nonchalant but I’m not sure how successful I am. Dad turns his head and examines me.
“You seem different. Happier.”
“Really? Strange.”
I try to hide the blush that I can feel warm cheeks. By the smirk on his face, I don’t think I’m very successful.
“You sure nothing is going on?”
“Yes dad…” I assure him.
Well, this is awkward.
I avoid looking him in the eye.
“You promise you would tell me?” he asks.
It’s so sweet he cares. It’s truly heartwarming. I don’t know what I would do without him giving me support. He gives me my space, but makes sure I’m taken care of as well. It feels good he wants to be included in my life. I would have run away long ago if it weren’t for him.
“Yes, dad.”
I smile at him reassuringly.
While I do plan on telling dad about Degory as soon as I know what’s going on, how am I supposed to explain that I think I’m in love with someone who died over two centuries ago and has the ability to create ice?
Dad’s not the type to even believe in ghosts. What will he say when I tell him I’m falling for a Reaper? Trying to convince him there’s an afterlife will be interesting enough. Instead, I give him a hug and head out the door.
The air is colder today than it was the night before. It’s crisper, and has an edge to it that tries to bite through my skin to the bone. Winter has crept closer during the night while I slept.
I’m glad for my new scarf. It keeps my face and neck from coming in contact with the wind. I don’t mind too much, though. The cold reminds me of Degory and that isn’t a bad thing.
I’m so curious about all the different things he can do with that ice power of his. I’m definitely going to ask him to show me more the next time he’s able to show up in town.
How is he going to even find time to come back?
I can’t imagine it being easy for a Captain to get out of Eden on a personal matter, but what do I know? I will definitely have to ask him more about Eden, too. All humans can theorize about what heaven is like, but I have a reliable source.
After a half an hour of walking against the wind, I make it to the park in one piece with only a little bit of shivering.
The old man sits on his usual bench, facing the playground. I’m not sure if he sees his granddaughter playing or not while he sits there, but he never seems to be looking for her. He only ever stares blankly at the middle of the jungle gym, never anywhere in particular.
His eyes don’t really move along it as if he is watching her play, either. I’m not sure, but I have a feeling that his need to protect her is keeping him attached to this world. Knowing now what Degory told me about moving on and Eden, I almost want to try and help this man move on to a better place. I just don’t know how to do that.
I lower myself down next to him on the bench and he greets me as usual.
“Hello, there child,” he says in his gravelly voice.
He must have been a smoker in his later years.
“It’s good to see you,” he says, “I needed a little sunshine in my day.”
I giggle at his lame joke. It’s corny but cute, and I love it when he tells me those kinds of jokes. It reminds me of something my own grandfather used to say to me when he was alive. He passed long before mom did, though. Still, I love the reminder of his memory.
“I do what I can!” I announce. “How are you holding up?”
“As best as can be expected, I suppose,” he grumbles.
“What does that mean?”
“Just that each day is the same,” he groans with a hint of agitation in his tone.
He adjusts his legs on the bench, as though the conversation topic is somehow making him physically uncomfortable.
“Nothing changes,” he continues. “I want to go home, but every time I get up and try to walk away, I end up back here sitting on this bench again.”
He smacks the bench with the palm of his hand for emphasis.
“I know that my granddaughter is no longer here,” he admits. “I hope she’s at home and safe, but I can’t leave to find out where she really is. I’m not sure why I can’t just go home.”
Well that answers my question. I wonder if he will move on if I’m able to reassure him that his granddaughter is safe. Will he think it’s creepy for me to go looking for someone I don’t know, or will he find it comforting?
I want to help him so he doesn’t meet the same fate as Becky, but I’m not confident that will work. I haven’t been visiting him long enough to know how he will react, nor have I ever been able to help a spirit move on before.
Plus, Degory made it sound like ghosts are pretty unpredictable when it comes to their emotional state, so I have to tread lightly. What if I upset him and he turns into a Malighost-thing right in front of me? There is no one here that would be able to help me.
I take out the sandwich dad put in my lunch and take a bite, chewing slowly while I debate what to do. I swallow the morsel with a little trouble before speaking.
“Would it help if I stopped by her place and check on her for you?” I gulp, nervous he won’t react well to my offer.
To my satisfaction though, he turns to me and I can see hope in his eyes. He’s practically oozing with excitement.
“Would you do that for me, Sunny?” he asks, hesitantly.
“Of course, I just need to know what the address is. I’ll head on over after lunch and come back before going home to let you know.”
“Wonderful!”
He’s in such a good mood that it’s almost a different person sitting next to me. He tells me old stories of when he was younger and tells me about his granddaughter – it’s so sweet. I take my time finishing my food so that I can hear as much as possible.
He lived such a full life, it’s so interesting to listen to him. Unfortunately, my food runs out and I reassure him I’m going to find his granddaughter before setting off where he directs me. I just hope she will still be there when I arrive.
It takes a lot longer than I originally thought it would to get there. I walk up and down streets and alleys, even across a bridge before I’m even close to my destination. I wrap my new scarf tighter around my neck, hoping it will keep me warm longer.
The heat I had been feeling since yesterday is starting to get worse and feel more like a fever. I can’t tell if my shivering is from the cold, or the heat. If I don’t get inside soon, I’m going to be in trouble. I’m starting to get chills, too. It all has been lingering since this morning, but it wasn’t quite as noticeable until now. The weather seems to be making it worse.
I take a moment to stare up at the cloudy sky as the wind starts to pick up. I really don’t want to get caught unaware in a blizzard, so I try to pick up my pace a bit. It may be November, but the weather here in Everbloom, USA, is so unpredictable during this season that I don’t want to take any chances.
It takes me two hours just to reach his granddaughter’s house with the directions he gave me. He told me that he and his wife lived closed to this park, but his granddaughter lived further away. He, also, gave me a description of what she was like when he died, but I’m not sure how long it has been since he passed.
I silently pray that she will at least look similar to what he remembers of her or this trip will be a huge waste of time. I really don’t want to fail him and see him suffer more.
When I arrive, I stay on the sidewalk looking at the house. The front room windows are wide open so I can see into them a little. He said that the girl was eight years old when he passed away in that park.
I look into one of the windows to see two adults that are unmistakably her parents, and a girl that looks to be about my age doing some sort of performance for them. It saddens me quite a bit knowing he has been gone for so long without knowing what happened to her. At least now he may be able to rest peacefully knowing that she’s okay.
I don’t dawdle on
the sidewalk. I want to stay to, hopefully, get the opportunity to talk to his granddaughter a bit, but the clouds are gradually becoming darker by the minute. I may have predicted the weather by accident. The clouds look a bit angry, and soon they will be unleashing a cold hell onto the earth with the snow it will let down.
The wind is blowing hard, too. I don’t want to think about how bad it’s going to be when the blizzard finally hits. Still, I almost want to stay since the thought of the coming ice makes Degory’s face pop into my head.
Either way, getting caught outside in a blizzard is not an appealing thought.
I retreat back towards the playground walking faster than I had on the way there. I’m almost jogging. I want to beat the storm no matter what, but I’m not that good at running, so walking quickly has to suffice.
For some reason, I get turned around a few times on my way back, so it ends up taking longer to get to the playground than it had getting to that house in the first place. When I return, I find the gentleman sitting on the same bench and staring at the playground. He doesn’t seem to notice, or care, for the impending blizzard.
I quicken my pace and sit next to him on the bench, shivering. He doesn’t seem to notice me at first, which is very strange. He has always greeted me with a pleasant and pleased expression. I hope he isn’t falling victim to the same misery Becky did.
“Sir?” I call.
He comes out of his daydream and smiles, but there is pain in his eyes.
“Well look who it is!” he cheers.
He’s acting as if he didn’t see me earlier in the day, less than five hours ago. He looks up at the sky noticing the darkening clouds for the first time.
“I think we need some good sunlight today,” he jests.
I don’t know what to say. He’s never acted like this before. My jaw hangs open as my mind tries to catch up to the situation. I’ve never visited more than once a day before, either, but he usually remembers our conversations. He doesn’t seem to recall at all that we had chatted earlier.
Should I talk to him as if I hadn’t just gone to his granddaughter’s house? Who knows if he will react the same way as this afternoon?
Waiting a Lifetime (The Waiting Series Book 1) Page 4