She Lies Twisted (11 page)

James reached down and clasped my hand again. His skin was cold, at least physically, but somewhere deep down, something inside of me warmed. A bit of ice had been chipped away. I squeezed back and forgot to care that we barely knew each other. Loss is a powerful tool when it comes to getting to know someone.

James pulled me forward and I glanced up as we approached a man I knew only as 'Ray.'

His face looked peaceful enough and I could only wonder if he had died that way or if that congenial smile was the work of a skilled mortician. I was guessing it was the latter since James had told me that we were only sent to souls that needed help. “Most people can find their way to the library on their own,” he'd told me on the walk over. He'd refused to drive and I understood that. Cars still weren't a comfortable subject for him. I didn't blame him. The idea of a trip to the beach sounded even worse than having to banish another demon. I bit my lip and tried to at least pretend that Ray's passing had been as peaceful as his face looked.

James raised his hand and brushed his fingers across Ray's wrinkled forehead. He was subtle about it. Even the widow with the hawk eyes latched onto our backs didn't seem disturbed by it. I could only hope I would do as well. I glanced around the room furtively.

“
You might see an image, like a memory,” James had said. “Like the one of...” He'd paused. He hadn't said Boyd's name which I appreciated. “Like before or you might not, like at the beach. It's hard to say. The dead are unpredictable. Their ghosts are formed by their thoughts and its hard to say how people think. If you see nothing, touch the body, but make sure you only do it once.”

I checked the room once more and saw nothing but unhappy faces and teary eyes. I pressed my fingers lightly in the same place that James had touched. Ray's skin was cool but not unpleasant to the touch. It was almost like he was one of the crows in my collection, frozen in time, unchanging as the world spun in a million directions. Nothing happened though I hadn't expected it to. A demon could only be summoned if I touched a memory from a person that was already at the library. I didn't know how I was supposed to tell the difference but then again, that wasn't my job. That was what the harpies were for.

James smiled reassuringly and pulled me down the aisle and away from the family. We'd invaded their pain for long enough. It was time to go.

“
How do I know that it's done?” I asked James as we exited the church and paused on the edge of the stone steps.

“
I can assure you that your current task was completed successfully.” I turned around and found Ehferea standing in the shadows between the columns that lined the front of the building. “Your assignment is fifty percent complete. I will alert you to further action.” I raised an eyebrow at her. A joke would've been appropriate, considering her stilted speech but I wasn't in the mood for it yet. Time would tell if I ever would be again. “I have prepared your next assignment. Shall I brief you now?” I glanced over at James. He didn't look surprised but then again, he'd been embroiled in this crap for over a year. He was probably used to it by now.

“
That's it?” I asked him, ignoring the harpy. “We don't get a break? We banished a demon last night and passed through a soul today. That seems like a lot to me.” James bit his lip but didn't answer. I pulled my hand away and surprised myself with the sense of loneliness that swept over my heart and covered it like a cloak. “This is not going to be my full time job,” I snapped, overwhelmed with a sudden urge to go back to school. Normalcy called to me like a siren.
You can't have that ever again,
I told myself.
This is your life now. Death and pain are your masters.
I turned around and raced down the stairs without looking back.

"Wh
at do you think I should do?” I moaned at Boyd. He didn't respond but that was okay. Just looking at him had helped cool my ire. It was hard to be angry when I was feeling so brokenhearted.

I had stopped at home to grab my backpack and found him in my room. It had nearly choked the life out of me. I had collapsed to the floor in front of my bedroom door and still hadn't gotten back up. Salt water pooled under my face and soaked into the untreated wood. We were playing cards. It was Gin Rummy, I think, but I was too worn out to care.

“
You're telling me to ask my grandma about a woman that died over thirty years ago? She can barely remember me and I live with her.” Boyd tugged at his beard and stared the ghost me down over the tops of the blue and red playing cards. “What?” I snapped at him as I threw the cards to the floor. From this perspective, I was aware that I had been throwing a temper tantrum. I had done that a lot with Boyd and he'd let me get away with it. I only hoped James would be as forgiving.

The door creaked open behind me. I rolled onto my back and stared in horror at Grandma Willa. Not once had she ever come up the stairs since I'd lived here. I'd been eight when I'd moved in and twelve when I'd moved to the attic. I was sixteen. It had been awhile to be sure.

“
What's the matter, Tater Tot?” She asked, smiling warmly down at me. “There's no need to cry, Gram Gram's here.” I hadn't called her Gram Gram since I was five. I rolled back over and ignored her. She would leave eventually. “You can tell Gram Gram anything,” she said and I stiffened as her hands brushed my hair back from my face. She was kneeling behind me, her eyes focused on the ghost me sitting on the edge of my bed. “You're as pretty as your mother,” she whispered, her eyes glinting with the sharp wit and acerbic tongue that she'd always tempered with homemade brownies and tomato slices with lemon pepper. I blinked at her.

“
Grandma?” It was just one word but in reality, it was a cry for help. I sat up and threw my arms around her, trying to be gentle at first but giving into the need for comfort.
Family.

“
Poor Tate,” she whispered, her voice suddenly solid and without waver. “If the Ruby's have ever had a fault, it's that we love too deep and too much. Your grandpa died of a broken heart when your mother passed away. They can call it a heart attack all they want but we know better, don't we?” I sobbed into her shoulder. I didn't ask how she could see ghosts or demons or why there was always money in her purse when all I did was steal it, I just cried until there were no more tears left to cry.

“
I'm sorry,” I said to James as soon as I opened the door and found him standing there with his hands in his pockets and his face twisted with uncertainty and pain. This wasn't easy for him either, I knew that. I let him in and escorted him into the kitchen. Grandma Willa was knitting, lost in her own head again, but somehow, it was suddenly okay.

“
Oh,” she said, surprise wrinkling the edges of her mouth. “Marilyn, is this your new beau?” I ignored her and pulled out another chair to sit in. James smiled.

“
It's nice to officially meet you,” James said, holding out a hand. “I'm James and you must be Willa.” Grandma Willa stared at his hand for a moment and shook it firmly.

“
You can call me Willamina or Mrs. Ruby. My friends call me Willa and since you intend on dating my daughter, friend is the last thing I'm going to call you.” She pulled her hand away and stood up, retreating to the parlor and her one hundredth read through of
Pride and Prejudice.

“
It looks like you two are getting along a little better,” James said, avoiding the subject of demons and ghostly passings for the time being. “What happened while I was gone?” I ignored his question and drummed my fingers against the tabletop.

“
Why did you run away?” I asked. He blinked at me, startled by the abrupt change in conversation.

“
What do you mean?” He asked. I picked at a chip in the wooden tabletop.

“
I know we're dead but it's not like anyone would really notice if you covered these stupid things up.” I rolled up the sleeve of the lace top I had worn to the funeral and flashed the stitches in my wrist. James sucked in a breath of air, puffed out his cheeks, and flopped into the chair Grandma Willa had been sitting in. I got that he had them on his face and neck and that I didn't but why hadn't he tried to cut them off or cover them with makeup, Band-aids, something? I wanted friend more than ever. My brief moment with Grandma Willa had reminded me how important it was to have someone you could count on. Nobody else could understand me like James. He had that hurt and nagging guilt behind his eyes that I had behind mine and I wanted to know why.

“
I know, right?” Was all he said with a weak laugh that only belied how nervous he actually was. “Sometimes I think about what a coward I am. I see you doing things you don't want to do and sucking it up.” I bit my lip and wished that were true. I had abandoned him earlier because I didn't want to be a summoner. Nothing could've been less true but I decided to let him talk. He was this close to opening up to me. I could see it. He needed a friend as much I did. “You tried to go to school even though he wasn't there. You walk the same streets you must've walked together. You sit under the same roof. You look at the same stars.” James paused as if collecting his thoughts. I stuffed my hands under my thighs to keep them from shaking.

“
I couldn't do it, Neil. I couldn't stand to do the things Sydney and I had done together by myself. I couldn't even breathe the same air. It just hurt so fucking much.” He bent over the table until his head was resting on his forearms. His muffled voice continued to pierce me inside where it hurt the most. “Some family is given to you, others you choose. I chose her. She was my family and it's my fault that she's dead.” I opened my mouth to spill, to tell him everything, to reach down my throat and pull my heart out of my chest and spatter the walls with my fucking blood when the doorbell rang. I stood up, knocking my chair to the floor.

I could hear Grandma Willa sliding back the pocket doors that led to the front hall. I sat back down. She loved Jehovah's witnesses. I'd let her deal with whoever it was.

James and I sat in awkward silence. I reached up and touched the single purple earring in my right ear, trying to think of something to say. I'd lost the other at the beach. James sat still as death, his hands folded neatly in his lap and his gaze locked onto the tabletop.

Grandma Willa came into the kitchen with a big grin on her face. I could hear footsteps behind her but she paused in the doorway, blocking whoever it was from view.

“
Guess who's home, Tater Tot?” She'd traveled back in time again. I stood up from the table and ignored her, opening the fridge and grabbing the milk. Cereal was comforting and familiar. I would pour some for James, too, and then maybe he'd open back up and tell me what I so desperately wanted to hear. That I wasn't alone in the world. The Tupperware salesman or vacuum lady or whatever could leave. I wasn't in the mood to deal with that today.

“
Neil.” The strain in James' voice is what drew me back around.

I turned on my heel, prepared for the harpies, prepared for Jarrod or Margaret, prepared for the cops.

I dropped the carton of milk, watched the top pop off and drain liquid across the floor like white blood. A single word escaped the tightness in my throat.

“
Jessica.”