“Yes!” The word fought to escape from my thoughts, the dangerous word thumping with my heartbeats like a caged bird eager to fly.
How I wanted to fly with Gabe! I couldn’t imagine anything better than the euphoria already soaring through me, and I was curious to know and experience more. Desire thrilled through me. What else would I learn from Gabe? He’d already shown me so much, and to hell with the risks. The promise of power whet my appetite — like tasting only a small bite of the sweetest chocolate in the universe and longing for more.
Yet something held me back. I hesitated, racked with uncertainty. But why? Nothing had changed on the outside … it was deep inside … a whisper from my own heart.
And just like that, I thought of Eli.
I flashed back to our first conversation, at Jessica Bradley’s party, when I was feeling alone and suddenly there he was. Although we’d met briefly in school, that moment at the chocolate buffet would always be our First Meeting. In the week after that he’d shown loyalty and friendship. I loved the way his mouth tilted crookedly when he smiled, his romantic text saying his music was for me, and how he’d traveled hundreds of miles just to give me a small book. He didn’t teach me secrets of the universe, but he had his own kind of power.
“No,” I told Gabe, pulling away.
Gabe’s eyes darkened like storm clouds. “What do you mean, no?”
“I–I just can’t. There’s Eli … my boyfriend … ”
“This has nothing to do with him.”
“Maybe … but it would feel wrong, and I don’t want to hurt him. Besides, Alyce’s mother may need me so I shouldn’t stay any longer.”
“But I could teach you so much more!”
“I know, and I really appreciate it. I’m just ready to leave.”
Then I backed away from him, the heat fading and a chill settling over me. Was I making the right choice? Refusing knowledge that could help Alyce, her mother, and maybe others, too?
Here goes another wrong turn in my misdirectional life, I thought wryly.
Gabe had pulled away too, his energy hard to read. But I understood enough now to concentrate and tap into my energy. If focusing inward had worked to lift me out of a body, then it should work to bring me back. So I visualized happy things like my family and friends. Mostly I thought of Eli, and that seemed to work.
There was no shock of landing this time, only a mild thump.
Blinking, I looked around the semi-dark fish shop. Gabe was beside me but not moving, his expression dazed, then slowly changing. Color rushed back into his face and an electric sizzle cracked the air around him.
He seemed weakened, which made me feel guilty. Had he used up too much energy to help me?
“Are you all right?” I asked softly.
“I’m fine.” He straightened his shoulders and turned away from me to pick up the discarded candy wrapper from the floor. Crumpling it into a ball, he tossed it into the trash.
He said no more as he locked up Wet Pets and led me back to his car. It was late and the road was nearly deserted, swallowing us in darkness. I tried to talk to him a few times, but he ignored me. His expression was a mask, hiding the anger I sensed. I wished he would turn on the radio or say something — or at least look at me.
“Are you angry?” I asked as he turned onto Alyce’s street and parked in the shadows under a tree.
Gabe glanced out the window, then turned to me, frowning. “It’s not anger.”
“Then what?”
“Disappointment. We stopped too soon.” He let out a weary breath. “You didn’t learn how to detoxify and will need my help if you want travel by soul transit again. Unfortunately, there isn’t much time for another lesson. I’ll be gone soon.”
“I’ll be okay,” I told him, touched by his concern for me. He seemed weary, too, which made me feel guilty. “Besides, you don’t have to leave for a few more days.”
“You’ll meet with me again?” he asked eagerly.
“That’s not what I meant—”
“But will you?”
I thought of all the powers he promised and how useful I could be as a Temp Lifer. My self-help books often advised being bold and unafraid in reaching for what you wanted. And what I wanted most was to help my best friend.
So I nodded. “All right.”
“Excellent! We’ll plan for tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” I bit my lip. “That’s so soon … I don’t know … I’ll call you.”
“I’ll be waiting.” His eyes softened, lingering on me.
I knew this wasn’t the face he’d been born into, yet his eyes remained his own, shining with the power of an undercurrent that pulled me closer. I felt a little dizzy and I found myself reluctant to step out of the car, thinking back to the incredible feeling we’d shared while out of body. It had been so freeing, honest, and ethereal. Not like going out with a human guy, but something beautifully spiritual.
As I left the car, I glanced back into his compelling sea eyes and wondered what he’d teach me at our next lesson. I wanted to learn how to heal injured souls like Alyce and travel in soul again. I was so grateful to Gabe for teaching and sharing this with me.
And I wanted to experience it again.
Fusing together?
Maybe.
* * *
Alyce’s mother slept through the night but I hardly slept at all. There was just too much to think about, and now that I knew about Alyce’s lost little sister, many things started to make sense. Like how my GEM kept telling me to look for “the lost.”
So the first thing I did, after making sure Alyce’s mother was safe, was to pull out my GEM and fire off questions.
“Is Alyce’s baby sister dead?”
Yes.
Although I suspected this answer, sorrow tightened in my chest.
“How did she die?”
Heart stopped.
“So it was a natural death?” I guessed.
Tragedy and joy are two sides of the same coin.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Oh, don’t bother. Just tell me where she’s buried.”
Underground.
“Well, duh. But where exactly?”
A cemetery.
I resisted heaving the GEM against a wall and asked which cemetery. But the GEM wouldn’t give me an answer. The only thing this stupid book was giving me was a headache. I closed the book and tossed it into Monkey Bag.
Then I sorted through the facts I did know. Alyce’s mother had disappeared shortly before Baby Sam was due. She’d had some kind of mental breakdown, and when she returned, no more baby. Somehow the child had (secretly?) been buried at a cemetery. Piecing together the rest of the story, I guessed that Mrs. Perfetti was disorientated, both physically and mentally ill, and becoming lost. When she found her way home, she couldn’t remember what had happened that night. “Don’t tell anyone!” she’d begged. And that’s what happened. The secret of Sam was buried in lies. This was probably what led to Alyce’s parents’ divorce. While her father went off to start a new life, Alyce was left alone with her mother.
Her crazy mother, I thought, sad that I never guessed how bad things were at Alyce’s home. When Mrs. Perfetti was rude to me, I’d avoided being around her.
After an hour of tossing and turning in bed, I got up and settled in at Alyce’s computer, hitting the power button. I ran a search on mental illness, narrowing down the symptoms until I came up with the diagnosis of paranoia and depression. The signs had been there. If only Alyce had told me. I couldn’t have cured her mother but I could have been there for Alyce.
Well, I was here for her now. And I’d continue the search that Alyce had started.
I’d find Sam’s grave.
Energized by this idea, I dug out the papers Dustin had printed out for me with directions to the cemeteries on Alyce’s list. I thought back to my visit to the Liberty Cemetery and was sure there hadn’t been a grave marked “Samantha” or “Sam.” So I could cross that location off the list. There was only one place left: Pioneer Cemetery in Calaveras County. That was a bit of a drive, off a country road about an hour away. I’d need to pick up Junkmobile, borrow Mrs. Perfetti’s car, or get a ride from someone. Dustin would give me a ride if he was free. So I sent him a quick text and waited a few minutes, since it wasn’t unusual for him to stay up half the night. But there wasn’t a reply, so I guessed he was asleep.
Then I had an even better idea — Grammy!
I always hung out with Alyce on weekends anyway. Grammy could drop me off at Junkmobile, then we’d both search for Sam’s grave. And when the timing felt right, I’d explain about Gabe’s tragic past and convince Grammy to meet with him.
Pleased with my plan, I finally fell asleep and didn’t wake up until the delicious aroma of cinnamon and pancakes set my stomach growling loudly like an alarm clock.
Not pancakes but waffles.
Thick, flakey, cinnamon-strawberry waffles.
I couldn’t have been more surprised when I walked into the kitchen and found Mrs. Perfetti standing by the counter and squashing strawberries in a bowl. Makeup softened her face, and she looked elegant with her hair twisted on her head in a chignon. This was not the same ranting crazy women I’d escorted home last night.
“Good morning! Are you hungry?” Mrs. Perfetti asked cheerfully.
She didn’t wait for my answer, ushering me to a chair at the table and flipping two waffles on my plate, then scooping up a huge spoon of strawberries and dumping them on the waffles. She didn’t mention flipping out last night. This was a different Mrs. Perfetti, smiling as she prepared breakfast like a 1950s mom from an old TV show.
Oh. My. God! Alyce’s home life was insane — literally.
How had Alyce managed to hide her problems so long without anyone — neighbors, teachers, and especially her best friend — noticing? Hiding such a big secret must have been torture. No wonder she suffered an emotional melt-down.
I was suffering, too, with Mrs. Perfetti. The way she fussed over me was creepier than her screaming “he’s the devil!” I wished I had a How to Deal with a Psycho Mom manual. Self-help books always clarified things for me and offered solutions. But was there a solution for mental illness? When I tried to ask Mrs. Perfetti what happened last night at her office, she gave me a blank stare as if I was speaking in a foreign language. Then she switched to a “Stepford Wife” smile and offered to squeeze me some fresh orange juice.
Um … no thank you.
On the plus side, Mrs. Perfetti was so eager to please me that when I asked to borrow the car she said, “Of course, honey!” with great fervor — as if I were doing her the favor. She even offered her credit card in case I needed gas.
Then I ushered her into the living room, easing her into her favorite chair and putting on the Judge Nancy Dee episodes she’d DVRd during the week. While Mrs. Perfetti disappeared into the Judge Nancy Dee zone, I stood in front of the sink, bubbles lathering and water spilling, as my mind rushed with plans:
1. Retrieve Junkmobile.
2. Talk Grammy into meeting Gabe.
3. Look for missing grave at Pioneer cemetery.
This time when I went to a cemetery I’d know what to search for, although I had no idea if there would be an engraved headstone, a plain stone marker, or nothing at all. It was all so mysterious. How did Alyce’s mother arrange a burial for a baby that died without anyone knowing? What had happened that tragic night? And what would happen to Mrs. Perfetti when her secret was revealed? I hoped it would bring closure, not more tragedy.
My plan would have worked great — except for one detail.
Grammy had plans, too.
As I was putting my list in Monkey Bag, I heard a honk from outside and peered out the window to see Grammy-As-Me at the wheel of my mother’s Toyota. I looked again, just to make sure I wasn’t seeing things. But that was Mom’s Toyota and Grammy was at the wheel.
Then I ran outside.
My grandmother wasn’t alone.
The passenger window rolled down and my heart nearly broke when my little sister Olive grinned at me and exclaimed, “Ally!” From the back seat came more excited squeals from my other two sisters.
“What’s going on?” I asked my grandmother, feeling kind of dizzy looking at my physical body from the outside. Would I ever get used to this whole body-switching business? Probably not.
“We’re off to an afternoon at the zoo.”
“Right now?”
“Zoo, zoo, zoo!” shouted the triplet choir.
“Hop in, honey,” Grammy said, grinning. “We want you to come with us.”
“To the zoo? But I can’t … ”
“Why not? It’s going to be a beautiful day — I checked the weather report to make sure. I’ve already folded laundry and alphabetized everything in the triplets’ room. Your mother acts like raising triplets is harder than running a large country. She’s too soft with them, not setting up strict rules. I’ll show her that it’s easy to raise triplets if you’re organized. A simple trip to the zoo should be a piece of cake.”
I wasn’t so sure. I’d babysat a lot and just getting three toddlers to the playground without losing shoes or jackets or my mind was a challenge. But my grandmother was a competent otherworldly business-woman and capable of anything.
“What are you standing there for?” Grammy tapped her polished fingernails (apparently she didn’t have a nervous biting-nails habit like me) on the steering wheel.
I shook my head. “I can’t go.”
“Sure, you can. Climb in the back — it’ll be a tight squeeze but there’s room between Melonee and Cherry. So let’s go.”
“But I need to pick up Junkmobile from where I left it downtown and then I have to go to Pioneer cemetery. It’s an obligation.” I gave her a knowing look as I leaned partly through the window. My long braid swung into the car and Olive grabbed it with the enthusiasm of a fisherman hooking a giant fish. Giggling, she petted my hair like a cat.
Grammy crinkled her brow. “What are you talking about?”
“I have to tell you alone, not in front of … ” I gestured to my sisters, and cried out when my braid jerked painfully.
“Olive,” Grammy said calmly, “let go of Am … Alyce’s braid.”
My little sister glanced over at Grammy, shook her head, then tickled her cheek with the end of the braid. It didn’t hurt, so I just shrugged. Olive was a big animal lover and liked to pet anything that looked like fur. This could be embarrassing when someone with a beard came to visit.
“Grammy, can’t you postpone the zoo or get someone else to take them?” I asked. “I need you to come with me.”
“Your obsession with cemeteries is beginning to worry me.”
“It’s not my obsession. It’s Alyce’s search for her … well, that’s one of the things I want to tell you.” I took a deep breath. “I have to find someone who’s lost. And there’s another thing I need to discuss with you.”
“What?” She sounded impatient.
“Um … it’s about a friend. It’ll take some time to explain.”
“Then it’ll have to wait till later. Do what you have to do while I take my little darlings to the zoo. Afterwards, we’ll get together and you can tell me everything.”
I nodded, though privately I knew I wouldn’t dare tell her everything-just enough to convince her to meet with Gabe.
“We’re off to see lions and tigers and giraffes,” Grammy said with a cheerful wave as she started my mother’s Toyota.
Olive gave my braid one last tug, then reluctantly let go. “Bye, Ally!” she told me.
“Bye, Ally,” Cherry echoed from the back seat.
“Bye, Sissy,” Melonee added.
“Melonee!” Startled, I jerked back, banging my head on the door frame. “What did you call me?”
“Sissy bye-bye.” She waved at me from her car seat.
I was dumbfounded, and I could tell Grammy was surprised, too. The triplets never did call me “Amber,” finding it easier to say “Sissy.”
“Melonee,” I said gently. “Can’t you see that I’m Alyce?”
“Sissy looks funny.” Melonee giggled in her shy way, blushing and looking down at her feet, which always made it easy for me to tell her apart from her sisters. Melonee was the quiet, gentle triplet who seldom cried and loved books more than toys.
I glanced over at Grammy. “She knows!”
“Hmmm.” Grammy glanced into the rearview mirror. “Interesting.”
“Is that all you can say? She knows who I really am!”
“Children can be so perceptive.”
“Aren’t you worried? What if she tells someone?”
Grammy shrugged. “She’s not even two years old. I think our secret is safe.”
“You’re right … still, it’s freaky. How can she recognize me when I don’t look or sound the same?”
“You can tell the girls apart even though they look and sound the same. I think it’s much of the same with Melonee recognizing you. Still, we should be cautious. I’ll drop you off at your car, but after that avoid being around the girls until after you switch back. So don’t come to the house.”
“But I still need to talk with you.”
“Later,” she promised.
Then she waited while I ran into the house to get my stuff. The drone of the TV covered my hurried steps as I whipped into my room and grabbed Monkey Bag, making sure I had a camera (I bypassed the large one with attachments and choose an easy-to-operate digital camera), a notebook, phone, wallet, and the directions Dustin had printed for me. Pioneer Cemetery was the last name on the list, so there was a good chance I’d find Sam’s grave there.
I shut the bedroom door behind me and hooked the backpack over my shoulder. As I neared the living room, I saw Mrs. Perfetti dozing off while a gray-haired lady judge criticized a skinny, twenty-something guy for not cleaning up after his Great Dane in a park. I tiptoed past Mrs. Perfetti, who was sprawled across the couch, her mouth slightly open and her head resting against a pillow. She didn’t look scary … only sad.
Her sadness lingered with me as I stepped out of the house.
With the triplets gibbering noisily, it was impossible to talk about anything important on the drive to Junkmobile. I enjoyed being with them, though, and wished I really was “Sissy.” It was hard being away from them. But soon I’d switch back, I told myself. I’d solve Alyce’s crisis and we’d both resume our real lives.
Junkmobile was where I’d left it. I unlocked the door and was slipping into the driver’s seat when I heard a musical ring. Fumbling in the backpack, I pulled out the cell phone and read Dustin’s name.
“Where are you?” he boomed before I could even say hi.
“Getting into Junkmobile.”
“Coming to visit me?”
“You wish,” I teased. “I’d rather hang out with the dead.”
“We all have our fetishes.” He chuckled, then added, “Seriously, I got your text and was making plans to get you a ride, but sounds like you’ve got that covered. You still have the directions I gave you for Pioneer Cemetery?”
“Yeah. Don’t worry, I won’t get lost.”
“No worries here. This will work out great — it’s both spontaneous and romantic. When you get to the cemetery, look for a black Civic. I wasn’t sure about him at first, but he’s even more antisocial than Alyce. He hates going to movies or clubs, and was cool about meeting at a cemetery.”
“Oh. My. God. You don’t mean … ”
“He noticed Alyce around school, and liked what he saw.”
“Who?” I asked, a sick knot tightening in my chest.
“Your second date, of course,” Dustin said proudly. “Kyle.”