Fragile Spirits

  “Uh-huh?”

  I had to convince him to leave before Vivienne became too uncomfortable. I’d been told it was like extreme claustrophobia when a spirit had been sharing the Vessel for too long. “It’s time for you to leave Vivienne’s body. We have Samantha’s name and address now, see?” I turned the yo-yo so the writing was visible. “I promise you that Vivienne and I will return it to her as soon as you get out of Vivienne’s body, okay?” I was hopeful that the promise alone would resolve him, and he wouldn’t require witnessing the actual hand-off in case it proved difficult because the little girl had grown up and moved away. The chances were good he’d be satisfied with the promise, since he was so amiable.

  “It’s getting kind of uncomfortable now. How do I get him out?” Vivienne’s voice asked.

  Hindered almost always did this. They resisted leaving once they were in a body. It was the only dangerous part of Hindered resolutions. Malevolents were another story entirely. “I’ll come in and push him out. It’s easy. The weakest soul, which always the one ready to move on, is forced out.”

  “Okay,” she said, sitting on the bench, arms folded over her chest in a protective position. “He’s trying to push his way back up to control my body again, but I want him out.”

  “Hey, Jason? I’m going to help you out now. We’re going to do what you want and return the yo-yo, okay?”

  “He says okay,” she said.

  I sat on the bench. “Vivienne. Touch me.”

  She placed her hand in mine, and for the first time since the resolution began, she transmitted fear. She scanned the park. “What about your body being all empty again? That didn’t go so well last time.”

  “Not a problem. You’ll be here with it, and I’ll get right back in again. It’s not like last time. Ready?”

  She trembled, but her fear subsided, and she gave a slight smile. “Yeah, do it.”

  “Out,” I commanded my soul. Immediately the ripping sensation began in my extremities and continued until I hovered over us on the bench with no physical sensation whatsoever. “In,” I said, and my soul obeyed, shooting into Vivienne’s body, causing her to curse between gritted teeth. It didn’t take long to push Jason out. He was ready.

  Through Vivienne’s eyes, I watched Jason materialize in the blue hologram-like form. He had on a Scout uniform and a big grin. He waved like crazy, then dissipated in a white flash.

  “Okay. That was a lot cooler than Ethan,” Vivienne said, pushing to her feet.

  It certainly was. I need to get back in my body now. Please touch it. Through her eyes, I saw my empty body sitting on the bench, my vacant eyes staring straight ahead.

  “You look like a zombie,” she said. “Well, a zombie before the flesh falls off and stuff. It’s pretty weird.”

  Touch me before somebody sees me like that.

  She placed her hand over mine. She gave a squeak as I exited the Vessel, then poured my soul back into my own body, reanimating with a gasp. I looked up into her eyes.

  She smiled. “Do you always come back like that?”

  “Like what?”

  Her hand still covered mine. “Like you were startled out of a bad dream or somebody just nailed you with defibrillator paddles?”

  “I suppose so.”

  She released my hand and stared at me a long time. “That one was kind of fun, huh?”

  I nodded. “You were fantastic. Well done.”

  She laughed. “I just stayed out of the way. You did the hard part.”

  “We make a good team.”

  “Yeah, we do. Let’s go deliver that yo-yo.”

  FIFTEEN

  A woman in her sixties opened the door. Her expression was puzzled, but then I supposed that was justified, considering a Goth-looking girl and a guy in a preppy school uniform were standing on her doorstep holding a filthy yo-yo with her address on it.

  I held the yo-yo out for her to see clearly. “We found this in a knothole in a tree at the park around the corner. It has Samantha’s name and address on it. Is she here?”

  The woman held out her hand, and I placed the yo-yo in it. A wistful look crossed her face. “Well, I never thought I’d see this again.” She smiled at us. “No. Samantha isn’t here. She moved out ten years ago and has a family of her own now.” She shook her head and studied the yo-yo. “She lost this a long time ago. It’s been more than twenty years. She was in second grade.” She turned the yo-yo over in her hand and stared into the distance. “I’ll never forget it. She was so upset. I bought her a new one just like it, but it just wasn’t the same for her. We always thought that little Jason Lynch boy stole it just to be mean, God rest his soul.”

  His soul was at rest finally. Vivienne reached over and entwined her fingers in mine.

  The woman pulled herself out of her reverie. “Thank you for bringing it by. I’m sure Samantha will get a laugh out of knowing it made it home at long last.”

  When she closed the door, we stood on the porch for a moment, smiling at each other. Happiness flowed from Vivienne, and it made me feel fantastic. I wanted to shout yes! at the top of my lungs and give her a huge hug, but instead I walked to my car and opened the door for her.

  “Let’s go to the grocery store on our way back to your house,” I said, pulling out of Samantha’s neighborhood. “I noticed you don’t have a garage, and there isn’t a car parked out front. You have no way to easily get groceries.”

  Her happiness dimmed. “We’re fine.”

  “But we’re already out, and it’s on the way. Let’s get some stuff to hold you over for a bit.”

  “I don’t have any cash on me,” Vivienne said, her mood shifting entirely. She felt almost hostile.

  “I do.”

  She smirked. “Of course you do.”

  I turned into a grocery store around the corner from her house, baffled by her behavior, the high from the resolution completely gone. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  She laughed and waved her hand toward me. “Look at you. You have everything. You live in the perfect house, drive the perfect car. I bet you make perfect grades too.”

  I gritted my teeth.

  “You do, don’t you? What are your grades? I bet you’ve never made a B.”

  I pulled into a parking place. Clearly, I had hit on some sore spot accidentally. “What’s your point?”

  “The point is, I don’t need charity from the rich kid who has no clue what it’s like to not get everything he wants.”

  I put the car in park, but left it running. “Charity is the furthest thing from my mind.” I could barely control my outrage. Closing my eyes, I took a breath, counting down from ten until I had my temper under lock and key again. Rarely could I be roused to anger. Something about this girl stirred me up. “You know absolutely nothing about me.” And I was determined that she never would. My past was irrelevant. It would be completely different in the next lifetime and had no bearing on my future. Past was past. “I was simply trying to make it easier for you by stopping in here. If you don’t want to, that’s fine. I was being polite . . . kind . . . courteous.” I turned to face her at last. “Try it sometime.”

  After a few moments, in which she said nothing but felt plenty, I put the car in gear and drove her home, bearing up to the onslaught of anger and regret flowing from her.

  I pulled up in front of her house and cut the engine. It was dark already, and the streetlight closest to her house was out. I didn’t get out to open her door in the hopes she would explain what the hell was going on with her.

  “I’m sorry, Paul.” Her voice was so quiet, I could barely hear her. “I’m not used to people being nice to me. I guess I come with a lot of baggage.”

  I nodded, which was the best I could do in the way of accepting her apology.

  “I hate the IC so much, and I guess I took it out on you, which was wron
g.” She stared down at her hands folded in her lap.

  Now we were getting somewhere. This was an issue we needed to work through—this and the revenge thing. “Why do you hate the IC so much? I know your aunt was a Protector and died in the line of duty, but that’s part of the job.”

  “Part of the job,” she repeated. “She spent years protecting her Speaker, Phillip, but who protected her? Nobody. She got run down in the middle of the road by a demon named Smith. He only killed her because he wanted to get the IC’s attention and bring some Speaker named Rose out of hiding.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “Her death was random and pointless. She died because a dead guy was mad at someone else who was hiding from him.”

  Lenzi went by the name Rose in her past cycles. Most likely, it was Lenzi’s attention Smith was trying to get when he killed Vivienne’s aunt, but explaining that right now didn’t seem like it would help. Vivienne was too upset. I wanted to touch her, but kept my hands on the steering wheel. “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t much consolation for you, but she’ll come back in the next cycle.”

  “That doesn’t help me right now.”

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  She ran her hands through her hair. “And it doesn’t make up for what the IC did to my mom.”

  I put my hands in my lap but remained quiet, knowing she would tell me what happened if the time was right for her.

  She stared out the windshield, wearing a blank expression that belied the intense sorrow pouring from her. “She died a long time before the cancer killed her. She died of a broken heart.” She met my eyes, unblinking. “Did you know that could happen?”

  “No.”

  She turned back to face the windshield, and I prayed she wouldn’t leave it at that. I needed to hear this girl’s story, no matter how painful it was for her to tell. To my relief, she continued. “My dad was a Speaker. He met Mom through my aunt. He wooed her, won her over, got her pregnant, promised to marry her, then disappeared. Just took off, never to be heard from again. Grandma said my mother was never the same. She died when I was eight. His name was the last thing she ever said.” Tears flowed freely, but she didn’t sob. “I’d never heard his name before that last breath.”

  She said nothing for a while, the tears coming down her face, while she remained still. No sobs or sniffles. And wave after wave of painful sadness that made my insides churn and ache. She took a deep breath. “I told you I come with a lot of baggage.”

  I wiped a tear away with my thumb. “I can help you carry that baggage. You don’t have to shoulder this alone anymore. We’re partners now.”

  She caught my hand at her cheek as I wiped away another tear. “Race was right.”

  I tried to smile. “I doubt it. He’s full of hot air. What was he right about?”

  Lowering our hands, she held mine captive with my palm against her neck. She was so warm. “He said I was lucky that you were assigned as my Protector. He said you’re the best.”

  “I stand by the hot air statement I just made. He’s totally full of it.”

  “I’m really sorry about being rude to you.”

  Finally, she released my hand, and I withdrew it slowly, my palm feeling so cold away from her. “Soul-sharing with a Hindered is draining physically and emotionally. That’s why only one resolution a day is recommended. I should have just brought you right home.”

  She wagged her finger at me. “Oh, no. You took the hit on losing your body, but you’re not taking the blame for me being rude to you. You were just trying to help. And it bugged me that you were so observant about the cars and us needing supplies.” Her emotions were returning to a level state again. “Grandma has a cab coming in the morning to take her to the store. It’s how we did it in New Orleans, and we’ll manage here.” She looked out the passenger window at the little white house with multicolored lights shining from inside. “We just need to get the sign up so that she can get some business. The IC has been pretty cool so far and is covering all of our initial expenses. They wanted to buy her a nicer place, but she insisted on having her business in her home. The choices were limited, since most neighborhoods don’t allow you to run a business out of your house. Still, it’s a lot nicer than where we lived in New Orleans.”

  I was relieved she hadn’t gotten out of the car angry. We’d made huge progress today, and I wanted to be sure it continued. Every lifetime was a foundation for the next in our business. Race was the perfect example of how one lifetime could derail the relationship in the future. I was determined to make a solid go of it this first cycle. “How are you going to get to school?”

  “Well, we only have one more day of classes before Thanksgiving break, and Cinda is picking me up in the morning. I guess I’ll come up with some options over the break.”

  “Please consider me an option. I’d love to drive you to and from school.”

  She gave a bittersweet smile. “You’re a really nice guy, Paul.”

  Under all her aggression, she was nice too, but I knew she didn’t want to hear that. So instead of returning the compliment, I just smiled.

  She unbuckled, and I did the same, rushing around to open her door for her.

  “Always a gentleman,” she said, stepping onto the curb. “Your parents certainly raised you right.”

  If only. Again, I just smiled. “I’ll type up the report for today’s resolution for you to sign.” She was staring at me in the strangest way as pulses of energy transmitted from her soul that I couldn’t interpret. I closed her door but stayed in place next to the car. She stepped to the edge of the curb, which brought her body within inches of mine. Being on the curb put her at almost eye level. I cleared my throat. “Um. I guess I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

  She tilted her head, the peculiar expression still on her face. “I wonder . . .”

  “You wonder what?”

  I held my breath for the longest time until she finally answered. “I wonder what your lips feel like.”

  Oh, God. My heart pounded so hard I could feel it in my throat. I’d kissed girls before, but this was different. Perhaps it was the fact our souls were bonded and that I could feel her emotions and give her mine in return, but I suspected this kiss was unique because it was with Vivienne, who was unlike anyone I’d ever met.

  SIXTEEN

  21st-Century Cycle, Journal Entry 6:

  The resolution of a child Hindered was executed without incident, resulting in a positive conclusion. The Speaker is assuming her role effectively. The working relationship between Speaker and Protector is satisfactory.

  Paul Blackwell—Protector 993

  Thanksgiving was usually a terrible time for me. Loved ones traveling all over the country to spend time with their families and give thanks for their blessings . . . Yeah, not something I could relate to.

  This year was different, though. Standing in front of the school, I shared some of the buzz and adrenaline experienced by my classmates who were preparing to go on trips or have huge feasts with family. There was a great deal of excitement about having a five-day weekend too. That certainly appealed to me. Vivienne was staying in town and had asked me to have dinner at her house.

  My stomach churned as I waited for her to arrive, wondering how she’d act when she saw me today. I’d been up most of the night replaying her kiss over and over in my mind.

  I grinned as she got out of Cinda’s rental car and approached the front doors of the school. She smiled back, and a wash of excitement from her flooded through me. Good. No regrets.

  She looked great in her uniform. She had her jet-black hair pulled back in a braid, but layers of bangs framed her face, giving her a bit of a Goth edge, even with the uniform. I noticed she had on no jewelry and much less makeup than usual. Her fingernails were natural instead of black. Her skirt seemed a little short, which might get her busted by the administration, but was totally okay by me. I almost
laughed out loud when I noticed the bandage on her arm was held in place by black Band-Aids with pink skulls on them. Where in the world would someone buy something like that?

  “Hey,” she said, stopping several feet away.

  “Hey, yourself,” I answered.

  She shifted her backpack to her other shoulder. “Did you sleep well last night?”

  “Not a wink.”

  She laughed. “Good.” She turned in a circle. “Do you like my new look?”

  “I kind of miss the old one,” I answered honestly. “But rules are rules.”

  She took a step closer. Too close. “And you like rules, don’t you, Paul?”

  “Some of them.” Her nearness and smell were driving me crazy, as was the memory of the heated kiss up against my car last night. “I don’t like the detention-if-we’re-late-to-class rule, for sure.”

  The bell rang and saved me from breaking another rule: the no-public-displays-of-affection-on-campus rule.

  Vivienne was in all my classes, as were Lenzi and Alden. The day was a total blow-off. None of the teachers were in the mood to really do any meaningful work the last day before a holiday, which was a good thing because the students were too rowdy to settle down enough to listen. We watched movies in two classes while my mind wandered to last evening. We had free reading in English, but we all just chatted instead while our teacher gossiped with the teacher across the hall. Everyone was ready for a long break. Everyone except Ms. Mueller, that is. She held class as usual.

  “Pull out your notes. Today is no different in this classroom from any other.”

  No words had ever been less true.

  Everything went along fine—well, fine if monotonous lecturing on the post Civil War reconstruction is fine.

  Except for Alden, no one in the class was listening to a word Ms. Mueller was blabbing. He always listened, because history was his thing. Maybe it would be my thing too when my soul was centuries old. For now, history was history and not my own past.

  Lenzi gasped. Alden immediately spun to face her. I felt Lenzi’s fear spike, but Vivienne’s trumped it.