by Tenaya MKD
The priest must have been able to convince Mom that all was well with her little girl. No one returned to perform the full exorcism. There were no visits from doctors. I spent the rest of the day hiding in Evie's room. I was as quiet as possible, counting down the minutes until I could go to bed.
I'll never ask for help again.
4
I threw my hands in front of my face the moment my eyes opened. They were an attractively manicured woman's hands. With the sight of the deep-red polish, I let out my breath in a long sigh, relaxing back onto the bed. I still recognized nothing around me, but at least I was an adult.
I can’t ever feel that helpless again.
My eyes were still heavy. I considered going back to sleep.
What time is it? It doesn't matter. Who am I today? I don’t care.
After the dramatics of yesterday, I felt like I deserved a long day in bed. The hopeless stupor I had talked myself into while sitting in Evie’s room hadn't lifted in the slightest.
My one idea had been pretty-well obliterated by the fact that I could apparently be thrown into a new body from anywhere. Seattle might have been just as random as Ohio. If distance wasn’t a factor, there was no way to know where I started.
Living in Evie made it way too clear how little control I had over my life. Not getting to decide who or where I was, both pretty big parts of having free will, was bad enough. Being shoved into a child's life meant even less control. At least today, I could presumably get into this person's car and drive off if I wanted to. I could go out for a drink, get a cup of coffee, or go see a movie if I felt like. It wasn't much, but it was something.
That being said, if no matter what I did with the day, I would wake up in a different place than where I chose to go to sleep…then how much was that sliver of control really worth?
I stayed in bed to wallow in my gloom, but was sick of my own whining before long. If I ever wanted to find my body again, I needed to be making progress. Wallowing was only a waste of time.
If you get your ass up and look into accidents in Washington, then you can slip back under these fluffy blankets and be useless without guilt. Deal?
“Deal.” I answered myself. Aloud. Like a crazy person. But I still had a hard time willing myself to get moving.
I didn't bother to take in much of the bedroom around me. What would be the point? I was already sure that none of it was mine. And when I came back into the room later, it would only be to collapse into the bed and hope for unconsciousness. After that, I would never see it again. I noted that nothing was pink and felt satisfied with that.
Outside the bedroom was a living space straight out of an interior design magazine. Walking through it made me anxious. It was too clean. Like it wasn’t meant to be lived in.
There was a bathroom in the corner that was separated by a door, but otherwise the rest of the apartment existed in the one room. A dining-living-kitchen room.
I decided on a two-parter plan. I needed to:
First—search Seattle's local headlines for anything about an accident that occurred on October 11th involving an injured woman.
Second—find out where I currently was and try to discern if there was any pattern in the places I’d been.
It wasn’t likely. There didn't seem to be anything connecting Seattle and Ohio. But just in case the points on a map were going to start spelling something out, or taking the shape of a pentagram, I wanted to look at a map.
With a bit of searching, I found a MacBook tucked under some deep-red, triangular pillows on the stiff charcoal couch. A vinyl sticker reading “Sarah” in neat, cursive lettering covered its top. I opened it and the screen came to life, asking me for a password.
Fuck.
I tried “Sarah1!” and a couple other obvious variations of her name. Just so I could say I’d made an effort.
Why don't people leave handy little notes around with their passwords? On the fridge would be a good place!
I looked over at the fridge. Nothing was there, of course.
There was a loud knock on the door.
“Ugh,” I groaned. I had really hoped to avoid people the whole day. I looked through the peephole, but all I could see was a broad, blurry chest.
“Who is it?” I called through the door.
“I'm with the gas company. There’s been a report of a leak in the building. We need to check your lines.”
I couldn't think of a way to say “no” to that, so I opened the door and allowed him in. He went straight to the kitchen area and started fiddling with the stove. I didn't want to hover over him while he worked, but the apartment didn't give me much choice. Sitting on the couch, I was still only a few feet away.
Before he moved the stove off the wall, he ran his fingers through his chestnut-brown hair to push it away from his eyes. A light shadow of a beard dusted his straight jaw. His nose was slightly crooked, like it had been broken before. But it did nothing to detract from his handsome face. I couldn't help but notice the way the buttons on his royal-blue uniform strained slightly over his chest. The blurry peephole hadn't done it justice.
Before I knew it, indecent ideas of leading him back to the bedroom, and forgetting my troubles for a while, were floating through my mind. When the beginning of a bad porn flick, where the repair man abandons the stove to work on the horny tenant instead, started playing in my head, I had to force myself back to reality.
Those kinds of thoughts are not okay to have when you’re in someone else's body!
You couldn't blame me for having them though. I literally couldn't remember the last time I got any.
“Hello?”
Oh God. How long have I been staring at him?
My cheeks flushed, and my palms got clammy. “What? I'm sorry, I didn't hear you.” Which was ridiculous, being that I was about five feet away from him. I just hoped he couldn't see how hot my cheeks had gotten.
He smirked. “I asked what your name is?”
I cleared my throat, hoping to also clear my mind of the thought of him naked. I tucked a stray strand of red hair behind my ear. “Sarah. I'm Sarah. What's yours?”
“Cayde.”
“That's an interesting name. I like it.”
“Thank you. My parents were interesting people.”
I felt uncomfortable looking him in the face while my cheeks were still so warm. I tried to find something else to focus on. It was probably really obvious.
After another minute of tinkering he said, “Your lines look fine, Sarah. No leaks here.”
“That's good news. Thanks for checking.”
He moved the stove back into place, then took the few steps to the living room area, where I was trying my damnedest to focus on the black-and-white photo of a cityscape hanging on the wall.
He still had that smirk on his face. I imagined my face must still be conveying, “I totally pictured you naked” to some degree. Which made me flush all over again.
Damnit.
“So, my lunch break is starting now. Would you like to get a cup of coffee with me?”
My instincts told me to say “no.” I should try to find a computer to use. And I should keep to myself.
However, I did need a cup of coffee, right? And maybe Sarah would be grateful that she’d been set up with a really handsome guy!
Before common sense could interject to point out the flaws in my logic, I said, “Yeah, that sounds nice. Let me get changed. It'll only take me a minute.” He promised to meet me downstairs in ten.
I put on a long-sleeved, sunshine-yellow V-neck and a pair of dark-washed jeans from Sarah's dresser. Suddenly caring what I looked like, I ran to the bathroom to do a mirror check. The vibrancy of Sarah’s deep-red hair in its entirety caught my eye first. It gracefully dusted the tops of her shoulders and bounced when I moved in a way that you’d usually only see in shampoo commercials. Her piercing, jade-green eyes were the type that people wore colored contacts to emulate. Light freckles sprinkled her nose.
&nb
sp; No wonder he asked me out.
Sarah was the epitome of a classically beautiful woman. If I had to borrow a face, hers was a good one to borrow.
Before heading out, I opened the thick, red curtains to make sure I was dressed appropriately for the weather. I was shocked to find I was at least ten floors up. The sidewalks were packed with people, the streets full of cars, and the neighboring buildings were as tall as mine, if not taller.
Answering the question of where I was, had turned out to be easy. One good look out the window was all you needed here. I was in New York City.
It looked like a crisp fall day, so I threw on a light-blue sweater from Sarah’s closet before running out the door. I was hoping Cayde planned on buying because I hadn't found a purse in the single minute I’d spent looking for one.
When I reached the elevator doors, I realized that I’d only taken about five minutes to get dressed. The last thing I needed was to seem as overly eager as I was.
You’ve embarrassed yourself enough today, already.
So, I took the stairs to kill a few extra minutes. It didn’t take more than one floor for me to feel thankful that I'd chosen Sarah's one pair of white tennis shoes over any of her chic high heels.
Cayde was already in the lobby, waiting. He had changed out of his uniform into a black sweater that clung to his body in all the best ways, and a pair of dark jeans. How he'd changed so quickly, I didn't know. But I liked the result. He smiled at me warmly, and I had no choice but to smile back. He had that kind of smile.
He opened the lobby door and held it for me. When I walked through, I passed by him closely enough to feel his body heat. A really pleasant feeling poured over me in that moment. An oddly strong feeling to have around someone I’d just met. It surprised me. Almost so much that it was off-putting, but not quite. It was too pleasant for that. I couldn't explain it, but there was something magnetic about Cayde.
“We can walk,” he said. “There's a coffee shop I like just a few blocks from here.”
“That sounds great,” I said, trying not to sound too eager.
While we walked, I took in the surrounding street. Sounds of traffic and conversation in a myriad of languages were coming from all around us. They were the city's soundtrack. And it was being played through surround sound.
Everyone walked with purpose. The sidewalks were tightly packed with people going briskly in both directions, but somehow no one collided. The combination of the buildings towering over us and the sea of people surrounding us made me feel like the city had swallowed me up. I didn't mind though. I was just impressed by it. It was overwhelming, but in the most wonderful way.
I wish I had more than a day here.
When I realized we hadn't spoken for a couple of minutes, I brought my attention back to Cayde. He was taking in the block the same way I was. We caught each other's eyes, and both smiled.
The coffee shop was called “Thinker’s Coffee.” As soon as I walked into the room, the aroma of fresh coffee and used books met my nose. I loved it.
If I could create my own perfume, this is exactly the scent I would choose.
I was immediately drawn to the fully stocked bookshelves scattered throughout the room. I couldn't stop myself from approaching the closest ones to pass my fingers over the books’ spines. There were both fiction and non-fiction: a variety of classics and new releases, ones with colorful dust jackets, and leather ones from another era. It was an impeccable collection.
I must like to read!
As small of a detail as it was, it felt good to know something about myself.
Cayde pointed me to the seating area nearest the front window, and I practically skipped to it to claim a chair. All were comfy loungers in quaint fabrics, making the small shop feel homey.
“What can I get for you to drink?” Cayde asked.
“I'd love a double Americano, please.”
“Coming right up.” He headed for the counter to place our order, leaving me with another smile.
I appreciated the view of the city street through the window while I waited, feeling grateful that I had gotten myself out of bed.
I’m actually glad there was a gas leak!
I laughed to myself, quietly.
Cayde returned after a few minutes with our coffees in hand. He gave me my yellow mug and then lowered himself into the chair across from mine.
“So,” he sipped his coffee, “tell me about yourself, Sarah.”
I froze with my mug halfway to my mouth.
Shit! How had I not seen this problem coming? Of course, he'd be asking me about myself! And I have absolutely nothing to tell him.
“Umm...” I readjusted myself in my seat, stalling. “Well, there really isn't much to tell. You already know where I live. And how I take my coffee. Tell me about you!” I finally drank from my raised mug, but slurped a little too quickly, burning my tongue.
He laughed, “Nice deflecting. I'll let you get away with it for now.”
My responding laugh was breathy.
“I just turned twenty-nine. I drink drip coffee, black. And I'm a dog person, but I can’t have a dog where I live.”
I grinned. “I feel like I know you better than I know myself.”
His laugh crinkled the corners of his eyes. Little did he know how serious that statement was.
He relaxed back into the pillowy cushion on his red chair, bringing his hand up to a crystal pendant hanging from a leather cord around his neck. I somehow hadn’t noticed it before.
“That’s a beautiful crystal.”
He quickly tucked it under his sweater. “Thanks. It was a gift from my mother.”
“How nice.” I smiled. And then I wished I had more to say.
“So, how is your Americano?” he asked. “The barista was surprised that was what you wanted.”
“That's odd. Did she say why?”
“Well, apparently you come in here almost daily for lattes?”
Geez, I can't catch a break.
“Well, I used to. But I had an Americano recently and can’t go back. Turns out I actually do like the taste of coffee.”
He laughed. I laughed. And then we just stared at each other. I was admiring the way his shadow of a beard accentuated his jaw. But it was hard to tell why he was looking at me the way he was. Sarah was nice to look at, but my instincts told me it was more than that. It was like he was trying to figure me out.
I hadn't noticed before, but now that I was looking closely, I could see how unique his eyes were. They were hazel, but different. If fall became an eye color, it would look like Cayde’s eyes.
“What are you thinking, Sarah?”
“That your eyes are like fall.”
Wait, why did I just say that?
“Sorry, I mean, what?”
He smiled. “Thank you. Your eyes are pretty stunning too.”
“Thanks,” was what I said out loud. What I was thinking, was how these eyes weren't really mine…
If I didn't find my body, I’d never be able to accept a genuine compliment again. The effects of my circumstances just kept on spreading. And, with each of these realizations, I became even more desperate to find my own life.
“Do you know where I can find a computer nearby? Mine isn't working and I really need to look something up.”
“I could let you use mine.” He didn’t even hesitate. “I don't have it on me, but we could go get it if you want?”
“Is your place far from here?”
“I'm actually staying in a hotel nearby while my place is fumigated. We could walk from here.”
I was wary about going to a stranger's place. I'm pretty sure women are born with the rules about not doing that, embedded in their brains. But there was something about Cayde that made me feel safe. He put me at ease before I even had a chance to worry. And I couldn't say no to more opportunity to walk through the city.
“I would really appreciate that. When do you have to be back to work?”
“I've deci
ded to take the rest of the day off. Something more important has come up.” He took a sip of his coffee, his eyes smoldering at me from over his mug. I shifted my gaze to the window, hiding my smile behind my own.
It was a short walk to the Broadway Wishes hotel. It was a tight fit in the mirrored elevator as we squeezed in next to a nicely dressed couple, their two little kids, and a 1920s-garbed bellhop bearing suitcases on a brass trolley. In order to fit, Cayde and I had to stand with our arms touching the entire ride up to his floor, a situation I both enjoyed and hated. He made me feel both calm and chaotic at the same time. I chalked it up to nerves.
At least I didn’t have to make small talk while my stomach filled with butterflies on a rampage. I felt more nervous the closer we got to Cayde’s room.
When we got inside, I stationed myself near the burgundy wall. I tried to look anywhere but at the neatly made king-sized bed, where a maid had left a chocolate Andes mint on each pillow. The sexual tension I felt around Cayde was strong enough without there being a bed in the room. I hoped my stiff face and tensely crossed arms weren't betraying my discomfort. But being the caliber of a liar I’d proven to be, I’d be willing to bet that they were.
He pulled his laptop out of a black backpack and set it on the dark wooden desk for me. Once he'd typed in his password, he stepped aside for me to take over. “It’s all yours.”
I slowly lowered myself onto the padded desk chair. At least, it felt slow—like time had shifted into slow motion. The idea of finding answers had me functioning on overdrive.
I pulled up Google and searched “Seattle, October 11th, accident”. A tightness in my chest started building. By the time the results listed, my head was spinning. Apparently, I hadn't taken a breath since I sat down.
All the results on the first page were relating to the same accident. It had been a big one. There were no survivors.
Shit. What if I died? What if this is some sort of glitch in the afterlife? What if this is some sort of hell?
A thousand pounds of weight fell onto my chest. There was no way I could expand myself enough to take in air.
“Sarah? Sarah, what's wrong?” I faintly heard Cayde’s voice, but he sounded really far away, like he was on the other end of a tunnel.