Crossed Out (4 page)

“Oh, no you aren’t,” Dr. Anthony said. He pointed back to the chair. “Sit down. We need to talk – now.”

Boy, talk about pushy. Still, Dr. Anthony’s comment caught me off guard. Did he really share my gift? I had to admit I found it hard to believe.

Why? Well, let’s just say that in the three years since my first visitation I had never encountered anyone else like me. I thought I was unique.

The four corners of the small office closed in on me, making me woozy. I plopped down in the chair.

My reaction seemed to satisfy Dr. Anthony. “Good,” he said. With a smile, he limped to his desk, favoring his left leg.

The back of my legs itched something fierce. I rubbed them against the back of the chair.

“Wait a minute.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Maybe I’ll have one of those Tootsie Rolls after all.”

Dr. Anthony reached for the container on his desk and offered it to me. All thoughts of watching my weight flew out the door.

I took six.

I peeled the paper off one of the chocolates. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why do you think I need help?” I ignored the slight tremor in my hands.

“Stephanie.” Dr. Anthony pointed to my legs. “Don’t your legs itch every time you have one of your visits?”

I dropped the candy.

At the mention of ‘itch’ my eczema screamed in agreement. I dug my fingernails into my palms in an attempt to distract me from the insufferable itching.

“How did you know about that?” I asked. “What else do you know about me?”

“Let’s just say that you aren’t the only one.” He scratched at his left leg.

Okay, this was creeping me out big time. How often does a complete stranger reveal your dark hidden secrets? Heck, even Barbara, our neighborhood psychic, couldn’t do that. Unless of course....

“Are you are a rescuer too?”

Dr. Anthony chuckled. “Is that what you call it? A rescuer? Interesting title.” He drummed his fingers together. “Yes, you could call me that.” He turned his head and glanced out the window. A faraway look came over his boyish features. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was reliving his own glory days of rescuing – helping poor misguided spirits, glimpsing into Heaven – things that a counselor would so love to have.

But something about this so-called counselor bothered me.

I pointed to the cross in the corner of the office. “I don’t understand.” I scrunched my face in confusion. “How did you know?”

Then another equally terrible thought came to me. This must be some kind of shock therapy. If so, this wasn’t funny.

“I understand that you feel alone,” Dr. Anthony said, all the while his glance remaining firmly on me.

“Okay, this is creeping me out big time. I’m not nuts, okay? I just happen to like to make crosses.”

“That you use to help the deceased find the other side.” Dr. Anthony smiled. “Yes, I know.”

“Well, why don’t you tell that to my mother. She’s the one who really thinks I’m wacko. As if decorating a cross is bad. Jeez, you’d think I was making guns or something.”

Dr. Anthony swiveled his chair to face me. “There’s a lot that others, who don’t have our gift, don’t understand. But the drawings on this cross are more symbolic than anything else.”

Yes, I understood where he was coming from.

But that didn’t mean I had to share the visitation of Allison with him. I don’t know why but I hoped she’d come back and help me. Unless....

I stared back at Dr. Anthony. No longer did he seem so friendly. Could he be the evil Allison had warned about?

“Stephanie, I’m more of a guide, someone who’s sent to help.”

“A guide?” I jumped to my feet. “I don’t need a guide. I’ve done well enough without any help from
you
.”

“Oh, you have?”

“Hey, I never asked for this ... this calling, or whatever it’s called.”

“Believe me, Stephanie, none of us with this ability asked for it.”

“Why did you decide to come now? Where were you three years ago? It would have been nice to have someone who actually believed me then.”

“I know,” he said softly. “I do understand.”

This held me there even though I wanted so much to walk out of his office. I didn’t normally trust anyone. But – I don’t know – what if Dr. Anthony knew about my embarrassing encounter with the last psychologist and was empathetic to my plight?

Besides, my mother was waiting for me at Starbucks. I couldn’t just arrive at the coffee house early without my mom becoming suspicious. No. Not good.

So I decided to give him a chance. Maybe staying would help me score some points for all the times I had skipped out of after school newspaper meetings, faked being sick, or worse yet, my recent failure to release one of the spirits toward the light.

And maybe he could make sense out of the whole Allison thing.

I sat back down.

Dr. Anthony smiled. “Good. Let’s start again.”

He settled back into his chair. “Did the spirit who appeared to you last night give you any clues to the site of her murder?”

“Yeah, I mean, no, she hasn’t shown me any hints.” I slumped in my chair, avoiding his gaze. “I didn’t get a chance to check the paper for any missing people, either.”

“Did you see anything strange or out of the ordinary at Hillary’s house?”

“Did Hillary’s mom talk to you?” The words slipped out of my mouth.

“No, was she supposed to?”

“Um....” I squirmed in my chair. “No, I mean, I don’t think so.”

“What did you see, anyway?”

Jeez! What kind of power did this man have? I couldn’t believe how the words seemed to stumble out of my mouth.

“Uh, some lady in the mirror....”

“In a mirror?” Dr. Anthony’s eyes widened. “Were you girls playing with something you shouldn’t have?”

“Oh, no,” I lied. “We didn’t use one of those Ouija Boards.” I twirled a piece of hair around my finger. “I’m not
that
stupid.”

“Okay. Can you just tell me what you saw?”

Did I detect a bit of impatience in the counselor? Good, maybe he was human after all.

“Well, a lady appeared in Hillary’s bathroom mirror and asked me for help.”

“And?”

“That’s it. End of story.”

“Hmmm....” Dr. Anthony drummed his fingers.

Then he stopped and stared.
Eww!
Not a good feeling. I fidgeted.

“Stephanie, we need to find out more about this spirit who came to you. You see, someone else is interested in her, but not for the same reasons we are.”

That’s what Allison had said!
The uncomfortable feeling came back.

“What do they want to do with her?”

Once more I saw the pulsating box and the gray wisps that surrounded the woman, until nothing remained. Only one thing could do something like that. And it wasn’t good. My skin crawled just thinking of this being – a form of evil – that apparently had my number.

Now I knew I’d be sick.

“I have something to share with you, Stephanie.” Dr. Anthony got up from his chair and made his way to a back closet. Opening the door, he reached in and removed something bulgy covered with a cloth.

Omigod! My hand flew to my mouth in horror and disgust. Large brown stains caked the once-white fabric. A broken piece of a wooden cross stuck out. Bile lodged in my throat, threatening to spew forward.

I didn’t wait to see more, I ran from the room. All it took was one glance at the bloody cross cradled in his hands and I was history. I didn’t want to know what was under that cloth.

I expected to get struck down by God or the heavenly guardian who was in charge of taking care of disrespectful teenagers like me.

Everything Dr. Anthony had shared with me seemed so unbelievable. I knew what he was talking about. A demon.

Talk about too much information.

Thank goodness Dylan had left. I couldn’t deal with him right now.

Now that I had fled the office, I found myself with a major problem. Should I accept his help or go on like I’d always done? No, that wouldn’t work. Allison had tried to warn me about something too, but what?

I decided to do nothing. For all I knew, this new counselor was in league with the nameless demon.

I had to admit, it was weird how Dr. Anthony popped up just before my experience at Hillary’s house.

And to top this off, Dr. Anthony expected me, even when he knew what I’d been through, to suddenly open up and trust him?

Like I said before, I’d done fine on my own.

I ran down the corridor. I had to get out of there or else I’d scream!

“Stephanie!” I heard Dr. Anthony call for me, but I ignored him.

The glass doors came into sight.
Finally
. A few steps more and I could put my weird experience with the counselor behind me.

As soon as the cool air hit me, my eyes misted. Life was so unfair. I wished I could find Dylan. Sure, he’d drill me on what was going on and ask why I’d run out of a building like a crazy person. Deep down inside I had the feeling he wouldn’t roll his eyes or make fun of my gift if I confided in him.

But if I was right and Dr. Anthony was hinting about a demon wanting a piece of me, well, I sure didn’t need Dylan getting mixed up in it.

His ability to sense bad things around people might get him hurt. And that wasn’t an option.

Oh, why couldn’t my life be like a radio station so I could just turn the station to something more upbeat and happy?

Chapter 4

The day I dreaded, arrived. Monday. And I had less than forty-eight hours to do my job – find this spirit, from Hillary’s mirror who wandered between the world of the living and the recent dead, and help her to the light. So far, I had been unsuccessful contacting her.

And oh yeah, did I say it was Monday – another school day? Humiliation right around the corner. I shuddered at the memory of knocking Hillary on her rear, leaving Cura behind without explanation, and running out of the house.

Don’t even get me started on the whole counselor fiasco either.

Mom hadn’t even batted an eye when I showed up at Starbucks after that so-called counselor freaked me out. Strange considering she’d been so big on me going to begin with.

Anyway, no way was I going back. I had other things to worry about. Like what would be everyone’s reaction at the school once they’d read Hillary’s text message about the other night?

With this troubling thought, I made my way to my locker. As I passed, a few of the overhead fluorescent lights blinked on and off.
Just great
. Was this foreshadowing of what my day would be like? I pictured eggs dripping and sliding down my locker over the words ‘Loser! Freak!’

But as my sneakers announced my arrival to that row of banged up tin containers, only decals, graffiti, and a lip-locked couple greeted me.

A surge of relief flooded my body. Maybe nothing would happen. I so didn’t want to have to deal with Hillary and her wannabes. I had too much on my plate – a wandering spirit and an odd counselor with a fondness for bloody cloths.

At the moment, I think I preferred the anonymous spirit. Blood always made me queasy.

I opened my locker and grabbed my English book. I loved my class but hated all the grammar stuff that went with it. Who really cared whether to use a colon or semicolon?

The whiff of Bath & Body Works Mango Mandarin Eau de Toilette gave Cura away. She always bathed herself in the stuff. I tried hard not to sneeze.

Cura walked up to the lockers. “Steph, why did you leave Hillary’s place like that?”

“Ah….” I rammed my book into my backpack. A few papers flew out. “I didn’t feel good?”

“You could’ve texted me.”

I couldn’t believe Cura’s mother was part of Mom’s sorority pact. Now, if most of the others, including Hillary, were like Cura, then I’d have no problem wanting to belong. Out of all them, Cura had refused to believe the rumors about me being loco. After the other night, had her opinion of me changed?

My earlier sick feeling came back. I didn’t want to lose Cura’s friendship. But another equally strong feeling overpowered me.

Yeah, some friend I am. I can’t even share what I really do.

I really wanted to think she’d not flake out on me but after the disastrous evening at Hillary’s house, I didn’t want to chance it.

I felt like crap. “I’m sorry, okay.” I put on my best puppy-dog look. It worked every time. “Forgive me?”

Cura pouted. “I shouldn’t, you know. You should’ve heard Hillary’s mom and Mrs. Jones. Boy, talk about a piss fest. And what happened in there, anyway?” She leaned over. “You know…the mirror?”

“It broke. It was a stupid accident. Mom’s making me pay for it.”

Cura stared at me. “Sometimes I don’t get you.”

A sinking feeling hit me. I really wanted to confide what really happened, but I wondered if she’d freak out on me like Hillary did three years ago with my revelation about Allison.

“I’m sorry, Cura. I really feel bad. Let’s say I treat today. One large diet cherry Coke and a half order of skinny fries. Okay?”

“Well, all
right
.” Cura smiled. Then her eyes widened. “Hey, check out that guy.”

“Jeez, Cura,” I said. “Talk about a one track mind.”

“No really, take a look.”

A really cute guy walked toward us. Long dark hair framed the most amazing blue eyes. It didn’t hurt that he was really buff too.

Cura leaned toward me. “He’s sure hot. You’ve seen him before?”

I shook my head. “He must be new.”

“Hey,” Cura whispered. “Bag the Coke and fries. I’d like an order of that.”

“Yeah, me too.”

At that moment the back of my thighs itched.
Great!
I thought. Talk about making a good first impression.

Not!

I leaned against my locker, trying to rub the backs of my legs and not look like a total fool. All the while a chill went up my spine.

My eczema and the sudden drop in temperature usually signaled an arrival from the other side.
Oh, just great
. Why did this have to happen now!

This never happened in broad daylight. But spirits didn’t show up in bathroom mirrors either. I should’ve listened to my gut when I had the chance.