Untethered (21 page)

Cassie’s good at it. The relaxing. Almost too good. A few times she falls asleep and I have to wake her up. “Stay alert while still relaxing. Think you can do that?”

We spend the whole evening trying. Cassie’s starting to get discouraged, and I’m worried I’ll lose her. If she doesn’t project, my plan can’t work. “Let’s give it one last try,” I say. I turn out the lights and stretch out on my bed. The moon has waned into a lopsided circle. It lights the room with a dull glow.

By now, I know I can relax and leave my body within a few minutes. So I’m not really trying to do it myself yet. I’m listening, waiting for some clue to tell me Cassie’s done it.

It’s going on half-an-hour when Cassie’s breathing slows. Significantly. I slit open one eye and glance down at the shadow on the air mattress. Cassie’s completely still.

Is she doing it? Or is she sleeping again? I’m about to move in for a closer look when I hear Cassie gasp.

“I can’t move!” She yells. “I can’t—”

I jump off my bed and go to her, putting a hand on her arm. “Yes, you can, Cass.”

“No, I—” But then she sits up. Her eyes are wide, shining in the dark. She says, “Turn on the light.”

I do. There’s a look on Cassie’s face somewhere between terror and elation. “I ... something happened.”

My throat squeezes tight with anticipation. “What?”

She shakes her head. “I’m not sure. But I felt ... funny. I was in this room, I could see the walls, out the window to the ground.”

“Yeah?” My heart is pounding. Ba-boom. Ba-boom.
This is it
.

“The thing is, how could I see to the ground when I’m on the floor? I’m sure I wasn’t dreaming. Oh, Sylvie, this is warped.”

“It’s not. Then what happened?”

Now she frowns. “I can’t remember really ... I couldn’t move and I yelled out to you. That’s it. It doesn’t sound like much, but—”

“No. It’s a lot. You did it, Cass. You actually did it! The next time you do it you can stay out longer!” I bounce onto the air mattress on my hands and knees. “You did it!”

“I don’t know.”

“No. You did it, Cass. I’m sure of it.”

“Really?” A hesitant smile crosses her face.

“Yes!” I laugh and we bounce around on the air mattress like four-year-olds until I think it’ll pop. Finally, I stop and say, “You have to do it again, you know. Right now. Try again tonight.”

There’s a knock at the door. I get up and open it. Mom’s standing there in her mint green satin pajamas. “What’s all the noise about?”

I glance at Cassie, then turn to Mom. “Nothing. We were just laughing.”

“Well, keep it down. It’s almost two a.m. Some of us are trying to sleep. You should, too. We’re leaving at eight o’clock and not a second later. No sleeping in until noon.”

“Okay.”

She nods. “Goodnight, girls.”

“’Night.” I shut my door and turn out the light. “Let’s try again.”

Cassie’s eager to try again, but falls right asleep. Five minutes into her relaxation session, light snores punctuate the darkness.

It’s okay
, I say to myself, frustration building inside me. I take a breath and let it out.
It’s okay. Tomorrow. She did it once, she can do it again.

And in twenty-four hours everything will have changed.

Everything.

Mom is obviously trying to compete with Dad for the best days out on the weekend. Saturday morning at eight sharp she starts up the station wagon and Sam, Cassie, and I pile in. She takes us to Chicago for the day.

“This is tons better than Dad’s bowling outings, Mom,” I say as we are on our way.

“It’s not a contest, Sylvie. Your dad makes a real effort with you.” But despite her words, she puffs up and uses her sweet honey voice that only comes out when she’s truly pleased. I haven’t heard that voice for a very long time.

We go to the Field Museum and wander through exhibits on ancient Americans and feel dwarfed in front of the T.Rex the museum has named Sue.

“Who do you think is older, this Sue or Grandma Sue?” Sam jokes.

“Sam!” Mom acts shocked.

“Oh, come on, Mom. You have to admit Grandma looks old enough to have come out of the Jurassic. She’s all leathery.”

“That’s because she lives in Florida,” Mom says, which just makes us laugh. Even her.

Then we go to Shedd’s Aquarium and fight the crowds to see the sharks be fed and watch the Beluga whales from behind glass. We have a late lunch downstairs in the aquarium. But even though it’s mid-afternoon by then, there are still so many people that no tables are free. We end up sitting on the floor to eat the avocado sandwiches Mom has prepared for us. Cassie has a small bag of Cheetos in her purse, and she and I sneak some every time my mom isn’t looking, trying our best not to laugh and give ourselves away.

I should hate it all. I really should. But it’s weird. I forget to feel angry and bitter. Instead, I have fun. Mom isn’t too overbearing, Sam doesn’t annoy me, and Cassie is just like she used to be. Or maybe I’m like I used to be – before I started resenting my parents and scheming to steal my best friend’s most precious possession.

Outside the aquarium, we all stop for a second to look over Lake Michigan. Though the sun is bright there’s a biting wind that snaps at our ears and finds its way between the buttons on our coats. Mom, Sam, and Cassie start back towards the car to get out of the wind. I hang back, watching the grayish-brown waves crash into each other, a churning in my stomach mirroring the violence of the lake.

“Come on, Sylvie!” Mom calls to me from across the expanse of concrete in front of the aquarium.

“Coming!” But I’m almost afraid to leave. I kind of liked being me today. And I liked spending time with my brother and my mom. I liked being friends, real friends, with Cassie again. Knowing what I have planned for tonight keeps the storm in my stomach alive and my feet plastered to the ground.

“Sylvie!”

I turn and start walking towards the car, my steps slow. I don’t have to project tonight. I don’t have to possess Cassie’s body. I could just leave things as they are, and learn to enjoy life, my own life. I could. Things are already better at school, I’m not normal but I’ve got friends again. Cassie especially. Nelson’s with Melissa Scott, but he’s still a good friend. Home’s not the best, but at least there’s a sort of routine now, going to Dad’s on the weekend.

And then there’s Kevin. We have weeks more worth of tutoring sessions planned.

I get into the car.

Here is my chance to accept myself and my life as it is.

I buckle myself into the back seat next to Cassie. She turns to me, her smile self-confident, her skin lovely as silk in the sunlight.

And that’s when I feel it. The hot tingling, slowly squeezing out the doubts. The voice that says,
But you could have it all.

I don’t want my life as it is. I want to be someone. Someone like Cassie. To be liked. To be with the boy I like. To have parents who like each other.

Besides
, I think as Mom pulls out onto the road,
I’ve made all these plans
. It’s too late to back out now, isn’t it? Isn’t it?

I can’t back out. I can’t. I’ll give Sam a normal sister. I’ll finally have Kevin. I’ll get to
be
my best friend. And, if I’m completely honest, being Cassie and having Kevin is what I’ve secretly dreamed of for a long time.

I glance at Cassie. She’s reading a text message on her phone and grinning. She passes the phone to me and I read what’s written on the little screen:
“I
keep thinkn bout u.”
From Kevin.

And Cassie
, I think.
What about her becoming me? How would she feel about that?
I swallow hard then force myself to give her back her phone with a smile.

She’ll just have to learn to live with it.

We go back to my house and have a perfectly normal evening. Like old times. Mom even forgoes the flaxseed on the popcorn and lets us sprinkle it with salt. We rent a movie, one of those laugh-a-minute ones. Only I can’t seem to get a smile to stick on my face. My resolve to possess Cassie comes and goes in waves.

I get up in the middle of the film and head to the bathroom.

I can hear Cassie, her velvety laugh coming from my living room. I shut the door and the sound abruptly stops.

You can do this
, I tell myself and move over to the sink.

I’m stretched tight with anticipation, like a canvas on a frame, a dribble of fear marring the surface. I clutch the edge of the basin, dry heaving, and wait for the fear to pass. Putting my wrists under the tap, I run the cold water until I feel like myself again.

Myself. If I weren’t so scared, I’d laugh at that.

Because after tonight I hope I won’t feel like myself at all.

Twenty-Six

October: Untethered

The lights are out. Cassie is on the air mattress on the floor beside my bed. She’s breathing deeply, printouts from the net on astral projection across her belly. This time she has to succeed. She just has to. I’m not sure I’ll have the guts to try this another time.

I close my eyes and allow my body to sink into the mattress.
Relax my toes, relax my ankles, relax—

All of a sudden, an electronic cha-cha-cha fills the air. I sit up and glare at Cassie, who’s groping for her purse in the dark. “You didn’t turn off your phone?”

“Sorry. Where – oh! Found it.” The tiny screen glows green in the palm of her hand. “It’s Kevin. Hello?”

My palms start to sweat as I wait. My eyes adjust to the dim light. Cassie’s twirling a strand of hair around her finger while she talks. “Nothing. We were in bed ... Shut up,” she giggles.

Ugh. I make a vow here and now not to giggle like that when I’m Cassie.

“What?” Cassie says into the phone. “Already? All right. Yeah ... tomorrow. ‘Bye.” She hangs up.

“What’d he say?”

“He’s already home. He’s wiped out from his first week of swimming practice. We’re gonna meet for lunch tomorrow.”

“That’s kind of odd, him coming home early on a Saturday night.”

She shrugs. “It’s not
early
. Besides, he’s tired.”

“Or he’s up to something,” I challenge with a smile.

She looks at me, her eyes narrowed, somehow glinty in the darkness. But she turns off her phone. “All right, detective. Let’s find out.”

I grin and lie back, my eyes on a patch of moonlight on my ceiling. This is it. This is the last time I will be me. I can feel it.

I wait for Cassie, sensing her grow more and more still, then allow myself to relax and work on leaving my body.
Go ahead. Slip out.

Right away the shadows surround me. The noise is deafening. Hoarse, high-pitched hissing that hurts my ears. I’m half-out of my body and they’re pulling at me. My reflex is to resist, and so I stick there, half-in-half-out, feeling like I’m a balloon flying in the breeze while its string is stuck in cement.

I concentrate as hard as I can and finally I’m out. Out of my body. The noise gets louder and louder, like oddly monstrous, jubilant cries. Like the inky stains just won the out-of-body lottery.

It’s impossible to think with that going on.

Stop!

They do. They slip back, almost invisible in the dark so it seems like just me inside my dim room, hovering over my and Cassie’s bodies. Just the cool glow of the moon and an inviting, velvety night. Just the calm sense of power I get when I project. It spreads through me like a balm.

I hear the gentlest hiss.
Go on. Do it.

That’s exactly what I’m determined to do.

If Cassie’s out of her body and near me, I should be able to see her, or sense her at least, shouldn’t I? Maybe as a slight glow, or an outline or something. I think of the shadows, would they know to tell me she’s near? Is that what they’re trying to tell me? Did I miss her? Is she not out, or is she somewhere else?

I look down on Cassie. Her breaths are slow and shallow, almost difficult to discern. If she hasn’t left her body, she’s not far from doing so.

There’s no taking her body until she’s out. But the second she
is
out I have to rush in, or I could lose my chance forever.

I hover over Cassie, listening to her breathe. What should I do?
Kevin’s.
Maybe she’s already there, spying on him, seeing if he’s really home. I have to check. Quickly.

I find myself in Kevin’s bedroom. It’s familiar to me now: the mess of clothes and empty bags of chips on the floor, the posters of women in bikinis, the numerous medals and trophies on the shelves. And Kevin, there on his bed. Asleep.

Cassie isn’t here. I have to get back. I can’t wait too long. But ... I move closer to Kevin. I just want to see him one last time as myself before going.

Like almost every other time I’ve come to find him like this, he has a notebook face-down on his chest and is still in jeans and a sweatshirt. The room is dark, but I know his eyelashes are copper and that he has a slight bump on the left side of his nose. I move closer to him, remembering the scent of him, amazed at how still and calm he is in sleep.

I try tracing a finger along his cheek, but my hand goes right through him.
Can you hear me, Kevin? Can you? It’s because of you, I wanted to become Cassie. Ever since fifth-grade, I’ve loved you.

I move above him, my face so very close to his. My desire to be a part of his life makes me ache.
And all of this, all of my planning to become someone else was to get to you. I’m giving up my self, all for you.

Suddenly I feel a presence next to me. I
know
someone’s there. Oh, my God! She’s out. She’s here.
Now!
I think,
Get the body now!

There’s a flash of golden light, then like a lassoed rodeo calf I’m jerked back into my body with such force I can’t even cry out. Pain sears through me, forcing my eyes to tear up. I blink and wait, my nerves on fire. Like frozen fingers plunged into hot water, there’s agony before the relief.