Lovely Shadows (8 page)

“Who is this kid?” Billie asked, peering out her window.

“Aidan Summers, and he's not a kid. He's nineteen. He lost control of his Jeep and went down the embankment. The vehicle exploded, trapping him inside. It is assumed he was already dead before the fire started.”

“How awful. I still don't know what it matters to you.”

“Neither do I.” Only that finding the truth will send him into the light, and out of my life forever. I pressed my hand against my chest as if I could hold myself together.

I drove until I came upon a public access site. Pulling into the lot, I parked the car and unbuckled my seat belt. As I studied the landscape, I felt apprehensive. For Kansas, the flattest place in America, the huge hill and sharp curves were weird, like we'd driven into an alternate universe. Small trails led through the brush along the river. Somewhere in there was where Aidan had died. Because I couldn't very well drive through there, we'd have to go on foot.

“No way,” Billie protested. “These shoes cost $170. I am not ruining them because you want to go traipsing through the woods.”

“Fine, then sit here all by yourself. I don't care.” I turned off the ignition, slammed the door, then hopped over the rail that encircled the parking lot. A few seconds later I heard the passenger door slam shut. Predictable Billie; being alone terrified her.

“How do you know if you find what you're looking for?” she panted as she caught up with me.

“I guess when we come upon a bunch of burnt land I'll know.”

I kept my eyes peeled for charred bushes and trees. The vegetation wasn't as thick as I thought it might be. Tall grass covered most of the area. We walked less than a mile when we found the scene of the accident. A wide area, maybe sixty feet in circumference, was completely black. In three months, Mother Nature had not repaired herself. Looking up the hill, I saw where the Jeep tumbled down. Huge drag marks marred the Earth. Flattened shrubbery and snapped off saplings laid in the wake. The fire must have started halfway down because black ash started where the drag marks ended.

Seeing what happened to Aidan made me sick. I ran to the nearest tree and heaved. Billie held my hair back while I continued to relieve the contents of my stomach. When I finished, I stood up and collected myself. Vomiting wasn't going to help matters. If I got sick, who'd keep looking?

The need to see him hit like an icy fist. I wanted to touch him, to tell him how sorry I was. Dragging myself back to where the Jeep ended its life, I stared at the ground, looking for something that would clue me in to Aidan's claims. I didn't expect a confession letter or anything like that, but just
something
... Other than some broken glass, there was nothing in the general vicinity.

“There's nothing here,” Billie said, still holding my hand. “What exactly are you looking for?”

“Something that tells me he existed.” I pushed away from her and began searching the grass on my hands and knees. I found rocks, and dirt, and more glass. A textbook, some cigarette butts, several beer bottles, a condom wrapper, and other litter was all we found.

“Unless he was a garbage man, there's nothing here, Jess,” she repeated.

“There has to be something!” I shouted. Anything, I'd take anything, that would point me in the right direction.

“Did you know this guy?”

“Yeah, I knew him once.” With that, I walked away, leaving the accident behind.

We drove into downtown Blue Rapids and parked in front of a small cafe. Billie order two iced teas and two slices of apple pie. I took out my list, committing the names to memory. Our blond-haired waitress quickly returned and set our order in front of us.

“Could you please tell me what time it is?” I asked her.

“Two o' clock, dear,” she said.

“Thanks.” I returned to the paper. Aidan and I narrowed the suspects down to twenty or thirty. Of course, I knew nothing about any of these people; Aidan himself didn't seem convinced that any of them were the culprit. Still, we had to start somewhere. Might as well be among people he knew.

Billie snatched the sheet from me.

“Larry Miller, Paul Smith, Jackson Marks, Darren Foster...Who are these guys?”

“Nobody.” How could I explain this? Like she'd understand the dead guy I'm in love with helped make this list. Sure...Then again, maybe it was time to let Billie in on the secret. After all, the more people working on this the better, considering I had no clue when or if Aidan was coming back.

“If I told you something, would you promise not to tell anyone, including Luke?”

“What about Levi?”

I shook my head.

“Wow, this is deep. Okay, I promise.”

“Billie, I'm serious. This isn't one of those I've-got-something-you-don't-know secrets. This is more like I-have-no-problem-killing-you-if-you-tell-a-soul.”

Her eyes widened. “You
are
serious. Jess, you have my word. Not a soul; if I tell, I'll kill myself.”

Taking a deep breath, I explained everything, starting with the first time I saw Aidan's shadow. For once, Billie kept her mouth shut. I left nothing out, not even what happened in my bedroom the night before. I blushed as I quickly recounted the experience. Normally, I was against kissing and telling but somehow every detail seemed crucial. When I finished, the waitress had refilled our drinks twice and carted away our empty dishes. Billie said nothing for what seemed like forever. When she finally did speak, I was blown away.

“Jessa, you're not crazy. You see ghosts, I have visions. Maybe we're more alike than we thought.”

“What do you mean you have visions?” I asked, slightly stunned.

She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I have visions of things that might happen. They're not always concrete, but sometimes the details are so accurate it's creepy.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“Years.”

“Years?” I echoed. “Why are you just now telling me?”

“The same reason you waited to tell me about Aidan.”

“Wow.” I blew a stray strand of hair out of my face and folded my arms on the table. “So, what kind of visions have you had? I mean, have any of them come true?”

“A few. Remember when Samantha Bowman broke her foot falling off the bleachers at last year's basketball game?”

“You saw it happen?”

“Before it actually did. I was sitting in English class when the vision hit me. As usual, I brushed it off but everything happened exactly as I saw it.”

This was beyond interesting. “Can you see the future?”

“No. My visions are more like daydreams than say, looking into a crystal ball. I'm not a psychic.”

“Wicked. We really are a pair, aren't we?”

“You said it, sister. So, now what?”

“I guess we keep looking for Aidan's supposed killer.”

“Maybe the waitress knows something.” Billie waved to her, and she hurried over to us.

“What can I do for you, dear?” Her name tag read “Margie”.

“Do you know anything about the car accident a few months ago?”

Margie straightened up. “Why?” she asked suspiciously.

“Oh, we heard someone talking about it. We're curious about what happened.”

Margie relaxed. “It was sad, really. The Summers are well-liked around here. Their youngest boy Aidan left one night and never made it home. Story is he lost control of his Jeep and went tumbling down the hill.” She shook her head.

“You don't sound convinced,” I observed.

Propping her hands on her thin hips, she tipped her head. “Well, you know, it really is a curious thing. A couple of days before the accident Aidan was in here with Jason Kent. He was upset, you know, motioning with his hands like something was bothering him. I didn't hear the whole conversation but from what I gather, Aidan had trouble with a kid from another town. Apparently, Aidan witnessed a crime and reported it to the police. A week after that his car was vandalized. Then this guy started harassing him, saying Aidan ruined his son's life.”

This was news to me. When I asked Aidan if he had enemies, he denied it.

“As far as the accident goes, the police found nothing. Everyone in town was interviewed and nothing came of it.”

Billie raised an eyebrow. “Was foul play suspected?”

“No, but I think the police wanted to cover all the bases. Like I said, nothing ever came of it.”

“Huh. Do you know the other guy's name?”

“Kevin or Calvin...I don't remember. Can I get you girls anything else?”

Billie handed her a twenty. “Keep the change. Thanks for your help.”

Margie stared at her hand in disbelief. “Yeah, no problem. Thanks for coming in.”

“Crazy,” Billie said once we were back in the Honda.

“Aidan specifically told me he had no enemies. Margie's story contradicts his. I thought we were getting somewhere but now I feel like we're back at square one.”

“Can't you just talk to Aidan?”

“Oh, I plan to if he ever comes back.”

It was too late to do more investigating so we left Blue Rapids and drove back to Browton. Along the way Billie kept looking at me speculatively.

“If you have something to say...”

“You almost had sex with a ghost?”

“I wondered when you were going to get around that. I don't think kissing equates almost having sex.”

“Was tongue involved?”

“Yes.”

“Then close enough. Of anything you told me, that boggles my mind the most. I mean, what was it like? Could you actually feel him?”

“He felt as real to me as you do. He's a solid life form if that's what you're asking.”

“That's exactly what I'm asking. So, was he good?”

I thought about the way I felt in his arms. I thought about the way his lips moved against mine. I thought about how soft his hands were against my skin. I thought about how never in my whole life had I ever wanted to get so lost in someone else.

“Jessa!”

“Huh?”

“I'll take your silence to mean he was better than good.”

“Words cannot describe it. Have you ever gone further than kissing with someone?”

“Once.” From the way she blushed and looked away from me I knew who that “once” was with.

“Already?” I huffed.

“Yes, and I don't feel bad, okay? So don't judge me.”

“I'm not judging you. I guess I'm...” What was I? In all honesty I was no better than her. I had Levi, she only had Luke. I was the adulterer, not her. I had no stone to throw.

“Sorry,” I said.

“Forget about it. We're in this together.” She kissed her hand then tapped my cheek, our secret best-friend-forever gesture we created in grade school.

“Thanks.”

She laughed. “I still can't believe you are in love with a ghost. Isn't that wild?”

Wild wasn't the word I had in mind.

Luke and I ate a late dinner with Grandpa. No one appeared to be in the mood to talk, so we ate in silence. After Grandpa retreated to his study, Luke and I did the dishes then sat on the back porch. The temperature dropped so a cool breeze blew across the back field. In the distance, dark clouds built up high into the sky. Storms seemed inevitable.

Luke plucked a blade of grass and held it between his thumbs. Then he blew hard against his hands, creating a whistling sound. I never mastered the art myself, but Luke was gifted. I listened to him create one note after another, enjoying the music. The wind picked up, bringing other sounds with it. Thunder rumbled. I shivered. I loved storms.

“How was your date?”

His cheeks reddened. “It was good.”

“Well, Billie had a great time. Said you were the best kisser ever.”

“She did not!”

“Yes, she did. Are you guys going out again?”

“Friday.”

“Is she your girlfriend now?” I couldn't resist the urge to tease him just a little.

“We haven't declared anything, but maybe we are together. I'm not good at those kinds of talks.”

“You don't have to rush anything, kid. You need to do what feels right to you.”

He snickered. “Yeah, thanks. Are we done talking about this now?”

“Yeah, I'm done.”

We watched the storm approach. Little dust tornadoes kicked up along the trail. The tall brown grass whipped in the wind. Lightening flashed along the horizon. Though the storm was still a ways off, it seemed as close as skin.

I turned to my brother. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

He shrugged. “I guess. I mean, I believe in the possibility that we're not alone on this planet. Like Gramps has said dozens of times: What is so special about us that we assume God didn't create life forms on other planets? As for ghosts and spirits, I've seen enough horror movies to believe the potential is there. Why do you ask?”

“I was just wondering,” I sighed.

Luke stood up. “We should probably get inside and batten down the hatches.”

We went through the house closing windows and gathering flashlights and candles just in case we lost power. Grandpa pulled out the generator and tested it. Thankfully, it worked. We took up residence in the living room, watching the news channels for any sign of severe weather. Over in Brewster, one-inch hail was being reported.