18 Thoughts (My So-Called Afterlife Book 3) (25 page)

Two seconds later, he rested his head on my shoulder, finally free from the coals. I wiped the sweat dotting his cheek and took comfort in the beat of his heart thudding against my chest. Glancing up at the unblemished blue sky, I saw a flash of white wings and muttered an amen, knowing I didn’t carry this burden alone. One other thing I knew irrevocably. Demons not only existed, but one was definitely responsible for trying to destroy my best friend. I just didn’t know why.

“The unleashed power of the atom has changed everything
save our modes of thinking and
we thus drift toward unparalleled catastrophe.”
—Albert Einstein

ate sat with me in the backseat of Nic’s car as she drove us toward my house, Sean riding shotgun. Kyle had gone with Tammy to take Conner to North Ottawa Hospital to be treated for the burns on his feet, already a mess of massive blisters. I’d sent his parents a text telling them to meet Conner there, too exhausted to actually call and explain things. Worst of all, I needed to find a way to tell my parents what happened while convincing them I wasn’t crazy.

The dusk faded into darkness as Nic exited the highway and made her way along the familiar roads. My tired mind clicked off the landmarks: Meijer’s Grocery Store, Walgreens Pharmacy, the post office, the cemetery, my church. Thank God some things stayed the same. As Nicole made the right-hand turn into the parking lot, the streetlights surrounding my apartment complex were just coming on. Even though I’d only left this morning, it seemed like so long since I’d been home.

Sean and Nic muttered their goodbyes as Nate helped me out of the car and walked me to the front door.

“You want me to come inside with you? Assure your parents you aren’t bearing false testimony?”

“Nah, I doubt the Pope could even help me now.”

“All right. Happy birthday.” With a quick kiss on my cheek that made me feel all warm inside despite the cold, he turned on his heel and made his way back to Nic’s car.

Sighing, I gathered my courage for the confrontation with my parents. I really didn’t want to relive the events of the day, would’ve much rather gone to bed instead. But the Jedi Order needed help. The police would never believe what we saw, and out of everyone’s parents, mine were by far the most spiritual. Did my parents believe in demons and angels? I wasn’t sure. None of my friends did until today. My parents definitely believed in the saints and their power to help us though.

I entered the apartment, yelling for my parents. They stepped inside from the back porch, Dad carrying a plate of hamburgers. “There’s our girl! Just in time for your birthday dinner,” Dad exclaimed as I slumped at the sight of his choice of meat, all the memories of the day flooding my insides.

“I think I’m gonna puke.”

“Oh no. What’s wrong? You catch a bug at school today?” Mom inquired, digging through a drawer for the thermometer.

Guess they hadn’t received the automatic voice mail my school sent out for absences yet. A pang of guilt shot through me as I realized they’d figured I’d been at one of my extracurricular activities this whole time. They trusted that I’d never rebel against them, even on the birthday that made me a legal adult. Well, it was time to start acting like one.

“I didn’t go to school.”

It took a while to explain everything from the beginning, such as how Nate could hear my thoughts and how I had visions that seemed to display the future but in memory form. How, after Conner ran away, I discovered a mysterious journal in my room and was drawn to a book on spiritual warfare that I’d stocked on the shelves at the Bookman. That I started to worry Conner was somehow being possessed by a demon, how the reading gave me nightmares but prompted me to wear my rosary and carry around my mass book and even a vial of holy water. And finally, how I really only half believed until I saw something inside Conner and a flash of wings with my own eyes earlier today.

Mom gasped throughout the story, twisting her hands in her apron. When I finished, she came over and gently touched my shoulder. “Sounds like you’ve been through quite a lot since Conner woke up. I wish you would’ve told us all of this sooner.”

I pulled away. “Yeah, well, sometimes you’re not the easiest people to talk to.”

“Hold on, Elizabeth,” Dad said. “Can I talk to you in the bedroom for a moment, please?”

My mom nodded, then followed Dad down the hall. He closed the door behind them, but that didn’t stop me from listening outside.

“Are we actually believing this crazy story?” he whispered.

“She saw it with her own eyes, John. Why would she make up such a scenario?” Mom answered, suddenly my champion.

Dad sighed heavily. “I don’t know. Maybe she’s trying to get attention or trying to get out of trouble. Maybe she’s, you know…”

“Crazy?” my mom finished for him.

I slumped against the wall, defeated, knowing this was exactly the response I could expect from telling anyone about today. Still, I needed to at least try to make them believe.

“She doesn’t seem insane, though,” Mom continued.

“Well, I don’t know how you expect me to believe this tale.” Hearing the bedsprings creak, I knew Dad had stood.

“Where are you going?” Mom asked impatiently.

“To search her room for drugs.” He jumped when he found me right outside the door.

My gaze darted between them. “Think what you want, but I’m not crazy and I’m not on crack or anything. Take me for a drug test right now. I’ll prove it.”

Mom stood up and grabbed her purse from the hook by the door. “Come on.”

“Are we going to the hospital?”

“No, we’re going to see the priest.”

A few minutes later, the parking lot of St. Patrick’s came into view, packed for the annual All Saints Day celebration. Mom pulled her Camaro into the last empty space, her front bumper sagging from overuse since she bought the car the year I was born. In an odd way, I found myself relating to the tired state of the car, my mouth hanging open in exhaustion, wishing I could pass on my responsibilities to someone else. I was sure Mom wanted a new car, too.

“And you don’t think Nate has anything to do with Conner’s… possession?” Mom verified for the umpteenth time.

“Nope. He’s been the one trying to help me figure out this whole mess the most.”

She brushed a curl out of her face with her wrinkled hand. “You’re certain you trust him, one hundred percent?”

“Yes, Mom. You’ll see he’s trustworthy after you get to know him.”

She held out her hand, and I placed my palm in hers and let her lead the way into the church. “Are you in love with him?”

I looked up, studying the stars, gulping in the cold October air. The moonlight didn’t penetrate the shadows like the evening Nate and I sneaked out, but it was comforting to know a little light could always be found even on the darkest of nights. “I don’t think so, Mom. My feelings are strong, but I don’t think I’ve known him long enough to tell if it’s love yet.”

Mom looked at me, determined to get a straight answer. “Like you’ve known Conner, like you
know
you love him.”

I nodded. “The old Conner, at least.”

“Honey, I’ve been a fly on the wall in your friendship with him for twelve years now. You two have been inseparable, and I’ve watched your relationship grow more intense over the past year. If you’re confused, then tread lightly, or someone will get hurt, possibly all three of you. I know it’s hard to let go of our childhood attachments, but you’re an adult now. It may be time to do so if your feelings are strong for Nate.” She opened the oiled wooden door to the church.

Shaking my head as we stepped inside, I said, “Mom, I thought you loved Conner like a son.”

She grinned. “I do, honey. But that doesn’t mean I think you two are right for each other. But if
you
love Conner, you owe it to him to give him one hundred percent of your heart to see if there’s a chance for romance there. Above all, to thine own self be true. I’ve never once questioned you as to why you didn’t have a boyfriend or told you being with someone would make life easier or more complete, and I never will. We all have our own path to follow in life. I’ve raised you to be independent and intelligent, but some decisions can only be made by listening to your heart.”

Finally, a piece of advice from my mother that I understood. For all her faults, she really did raise me right. “Thanks, Mom.”

A moment later, the white-robed figure of Father Jamie waved a hand toward us from the front of the church, and we made our way through the crowd of children and parents to see him. “Olga”—he greeted me with a firm handshake—“I see the grace of our Lord is with you this Halloween evening. I’m delighted you decided to come volunteer again this year. When I didn’t see you here at first, I supposed you were getting too old for this sort of thing.”

Mom didn’t waste any time explaining the real reason we showed up at the church tonight. Anxiously, I chewed my lip, awaiting his response.

Father Jamie glanced around the room when she finished, seemingly in shock. I didn’t take his expression as a good sign of faith. Then all he said in response was, “I see.”

“Well, what should we do?” I blurted out.

“There’s not much that can be done tonight,” he explained. “But bring him by my office tomorrow after school. I’ll need to do some research in the morning to gather some ideas.”

Mom looked as puzzled as I was. Weren’t priests supposed to have all the answers?

Seeming to read my thoughts just as easily as Nate, he added, “I’m sorry, Olga. I’m not God, only God’s servant.”

“But aren’t you supposed to be a miracle worker?”

He smiled. “I’ll try my best.”

I nodded, accepting that answer would have to do for now.

Mom and I made our way to the exit, making the sign of the cross as we left.

Stomping on the welcome mat just inside the church lobby, I dislodged what I could of the mud crusting my boots. It’d been raining nonstop all day, adding to my already dreary mood. Conner’s feet were wrapped in bandages, and his sandals made slow scuffs against the thin carpet as we made our way to Father Jamie’s office. The steady click of my wristwatch reminded me of how much time our short walk was taking, the quiet of the sanctuary amplifying the sound. Sandals weren’t the best choice of shoes for today’s weather, but Conner said his blisters hurt too much for anything else. I was actually surprised to see him at school today, but he reminded me he’d missed too much already. So much that his parents had to reenroll him this morning to attend his classes since the school automatically dropped you after two weeks of unexcused absences. He had a lot of making up to do, but I assured him I’d help him get through his workload so he could graduate on time. Right now, though, there were more pressing matters.