The Awakening (28 page)

"Kendall, where are you? We need to do a sweep," Celia calls out.

Jason and I giggle at the thought of being caught again. Instead of continuing, we check our hair and clothes—
Step away from the cute guy!
—and join Celia and Becca. "I'm here to help," he announces.

"Good. 'Cause we can use some brute strength to kick a little ghostly ass." Becca smiles and sticks out her tongue in fun, revealing a silver stud in the middle of the pink flesh.

Celia hooks her hands in her vest pockets. "We don't actually beat up the ghosts or spirits, Becca."

Becca cracks the knuckles on her hands and then screws up her face. "Whatever. I pack one hell of a left hook if we need it."

Is that how she won all of those beauty pageants?

I turn to Jason. "Is Taylor with you?"

The lead investigator, Celia, takes charge. "We really need her, Jason."

I hang my head and toy with the crystal drop of Grandma Ethel's that hangs around my neck. I also have a cross necklace of hers in my pocket. I didn't want to leave my protection up to just a fine mist of holy water. It's also going to take some divine intervention for Taylor to forgive me, I suppose. "She's still pissed at me, isn't she?"

"We had a long talk today," Jason says. "Mostly, she's too embarrassed to come in."

"Are you serious?" I scoff.

Celia perks up. "Come in? As in, she's outside?"

"Sitting in my Jeep."

Waving her arms, Celia shouts at him, "Go get her!"

"Let me," I say. "It's my mess. I've got to make it right."

I buzz out the building, down the front steps, and over to Jason's Jeep. It's parked at a meter in front of the Confederate-soldier statue. As I approach, I see Taylor's got her head down. My heart rate trips up a notch and I can sense her unease over this whole stupid situation. I don't want to upset her or make her more uncomfortable. It's important—particularly because of all the other things going on in Taylor's home life with her parents—to make it crystal clear that she isn't just coming along as a package deal with her brother. We want
her
in the group because of who
she
is and what she brings to the team.

I tap on the window, startling her. She rolls it down and quietly says, "Hey, Kendall."

I rest my hands on the door frame. "Hey, you. Coming in?"

She lowers her lashes. "I didn't know if you'd want my assistance after all the terribly mean and hateful things I said to you.
J'ai honte de me
."

"Huh?"

"I'm ashamed," she says with a sigh.

I love when she expresses her true feelings through another language.

"Oh, please! I'm sure I'll get called a lot worse than that." Especially as more people find out about my gift. There are plenty of cruel names that will surely be tossed in my face.
Freak. Liar. Exaggerator
. Or according to my mother—who reluctantly allowed me to pursue this case—a potential paranoid schizophrenic. But I won't think of that now. Focus on the job ahead. There'll be time in the future to prepare for life's possible societal shunning. I snort a little and smile at Taylor. "When we're old, like forty, and remembering this, we'll laugh our butts off."

"I'm sorry I said—"

"Look, Taylor, when we formed this whole group, Celia and I handpicked you because of your talent with a camera. But you have that and so much more. I like you because you're you and not because I wanted your brother. I didn't exactly like Jason when we first met." Although I
do
want him now. "What can I say, though? We were just pulled together. I can't explain it." And that's the truth, nothing but the truth, so help me God. "Besides, you're fun and friendly and you've made me feel at home in a strange town."

"I've tried. You're really cool, Kendall."

My turn to blush. "You know, when I saw you in homeroom that first day at school, I picked up right away that you were a standout person. But I felt like you'd be too popular and pretty to ever be friends with the new girl in town. I was totally wrong. You're one of my best friends, Taylor."

Her eyebrow dances up. "I am?"

"Yeah. I'm really sorry."

"Mee tooo, Kendall!"

She rolls the window back up and then flies out of the Jeep. She hugs me like we're long-lost sisters. Relief washes over me like a morning shower. With people like Taylor and Celia in my corner, I'm going to be okay in Radisson.

"I swear I didn't use you, Taylor."

She's about to cry. "I know, Kendall. I'm sorry. I just didn't want to lose Jason too. It's been hard with my daddy leaving. Jason's all I've got now."

Squeezing her tight. "No, hon, you've got us too."

Right then, Jason ventures down the front steps of city hall. From his shifting back and forth from one foot to the other, I read his nervousness loud and clear. "I think we need to go put him out of his misery."

She giggles. "Nah, let him suffer a little more. He has been an outlandish boor up until recently."

Jason shouts out, "Everything okay over there?"

Taylor and I break apart. "It's great," she says. Then she dabs her eyes, her perfect waterproof makeup not daring to run at all.

"You're a phenomenal photographer and we are going to need your talent tonight."

"You can count on me, Kendall."

We link up with Jason and the three of us head back inside. Time to get serious about what's ahead for us tonight. In the front lobby of city hall, the equipment is set up, the cameras are in place, and everything looks ready to go. I hope my sensitivity is in tune with the surroundings and that I'll be able to make contact with Charles Stogdon, if that's truly who's been haunting this building. Whoever it is, I have a bone to pick with them.
Try to knock my dad down the stairs...
If it is Charles Stogdon, I need to straighten him out on exactly what's going on here in Radisson. If at all possible, I need to help him find the white light and move on to a more peaceful realm.

"Are we ready, Celia?"

She wipes sweat off her forehead with the sleeve of her shirt. "This place is wired. If anything's here, we'll get it."

"Excellent." I reach into my pocket and pull out the pendulum that Mom saw fit to return to me, for whatever reasons. I clutch the silver chain and feel the coolness of the stones under my fingers. The slick texture of the quartz is heavy in my palm. I squeeze its sturdiness and take a deep breath. Since this is my first time doing this, I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be.

Becca steps up, holding a crude drawing of the floor plan of the first and second floors of city hall. "While y'all were outside, Celia and I did a quick sweep of the building with the EMF meters to pick up on the hot spots."

"Hot spots?" Jason asks.

"Yeah, like power sources, wires, circuits, stuff like that which would set the meters off," Celia explains. "Meaning that if the meters go off in areas that aren't marked as energy sources, the likelihood is that it's a spirit trying to manifest it self through another energy source that's not connected to the building. Like the batteries in our cameras, or even us."

Jason's eyes narrow. "You really believe that?"

Celia spreads her hands wide. "There are literally thousands of ghost-hunting groups throughout the world who do it this way and swear by it. This isn't just some new fad. People are pros at this. If it ain't broke, why fix it?"

"Just because other people do it, doesn't mean it's legit," he says. "I still say it's all a bunch of bullshit."

"Skeptic," she mutters.

"Damn right."

I step away from the group and am pulled toward the bottom of the staircase. After several seconds, I know for a fact that despite what Jason thinks, we're not alone here. There's an immense, thick wall of energy directly in front of me. Is it Charles Stogdon? I don't see anything. Not yet.

Turning back to the group, I say, "Everyone's had some of the holy water?"

Taylor holds out her equipment. "Here, bless my camera and my mini-recorder."

Jason rolls his eyes, but sprays the water on himself to make me happy.

Everyone gathers around and I nod to Celia that I'm going to begin. "Now, before we start, let's stand in a circle and hold hands." I want to feel their energy before going into this battle.

Jason takes my hand and then reaches for Taylor's. She nabs Becca's and then she and Celia make the circle complete. A cohesive front. A single unit. A sole purpose: to find what's lingering here and stop it from hurting anyone again, particularly my dad. Celia squeezes my hand for reassurance, even though I sense a small tremor in hers. I guess it's nerve-racking to be doing this for the first time.

"Let's all take some deep breaths." A few moments of silence later, I repeat what Loreen instructed me to say. "I want everyone to imagine a soothing light surrounding you. To yourself, say, 'I am protected by a warm circle of light. God's light that protects me from harm and evil and keeps me safe.'"

"Amen," Taylor says.

"She's not a minister, Taylor," Jason says with a snicker.

"Shhhh," I say.

Celia clicks on the flashlight and points her EMF meter my way. "Are we ready?"

I pack away my qualms into the bottom of my stomach and grasp my crystal pendulum. "As ready as I'll ever be."

"Okay, Becca," Celia instructs. "Hit the lights. We're going dark."

I
LOOK AT MY WATCH;
the second hand is barely moving, it seems. "Are you as freaking bored as I am?"

"It takes time," Celia says, playing with the EMF meter, trying to make it register
anything
.

I stretch my legs out in front of me to get the circulation flowing again. We've been at the base of the staircase waiting, and it seems like a monumental waste of time. "Should we go to another location?"

Celia shines the flashlight on her face in an eerie "telling spooky stories at camp" way. "You said you were feeling something here."

"Dude, that was
two hours
ago."

She ignores me for the most part and fiddles with the temperature gauge.

"I think I'm going to fall asleep," I say. Nothing. No psychic headache. No tingles. No sensation of broken bones, nauseated stomach, or old-age heart problems. "Either that or I'm going to start doing jumping jacks to get some exercise."

Celia squints her eyes at me. "Did you know that it's a documented fact that you burn more calories sleeping than you do watching television?"

"So?"

"I'm just saying."

I sigh hard. "I'd rather be doing either right now."

Celia shines the flashlight on me. "We have to be patient, Kendall. Ghosts aren't just standing over there in the corner waiting for us to wave at them and point a camera and say, 'Hey, Mr. Ghost, pose and say cheese!'"

I block the light with my forearm. "All right already."

Five minutes later, I break the silence again when I hear a thud. "What was that?"

Celia cranes her neck to the left, but dismisses the noise. "It came from the courtroom. Jason and Taylor are trying to replicate the time-lapse pictures we got the other night. They're running from different sections of the courtroom to see if they can stop and pose between frames."

"Oh." Disappointed, I try to concentrate on my surroundings, tuning in my alleged psychic antenna to anything that might be out there. "Are there any spirits here who have something to say?" After a moment, I hear, "
It's not going to work
."

"It's not?" I ask.

Celia quirks her mouth. "Huh?"

"What? Didn't you say it wasn't going to work?"

"No. That wasn't me."

"Was that a spirit?" I ask. Deafening silence reverbs at me. I did hear that, didn't I? "Never mind." Maybe Mom's right and I am going insane.

Something pinches my arm and I let out a yelp. I smack my hand down and feel something gooey under my fingers. Did a ghost do that?

"What happened?" Celia swings the flashlight my way again.

"A mosquito. Bleck!" I wipe the bloody mess onto my jeans and try not to be skeeved out. "If I'd known there were bugs in here, I would have put on some Deep Woods Off."

"Mosquito repellents don't repel," Celia informs me. "They simply block the mosquitoes' sensors so they don't know you're even there."

"Thank you, Mr. Science." I snicker. "You're a plethora of fun facts this evening, aren't you?"

Celia leans in. "Why, yes, I am. Did you know that Venus is the only planet that rotates clockwise? Apples have more caffeine than coffee. Oh, and the plastic things on your shoelaces? They're called
aglets
. Bet you didn't know that. On top of that, most of the dust in your house is from dead skin—seriously
dead,
in your case—and I bet you didn't know this, but it was rumored that Marilyn Monroe had six toes on one of her feet."

I jump to
my
feet. "Oh. My. God. I can't take this anymore. You're killing me, Celia."

"I'm just saying."

I shout at the top of my lungs, "This is
the most
boring ghost hunt in the history of ghost hunting. It's embarrassing. Thank God we're not on television or anything. The TAPS guys on
Ghost Hunters
don't have these problems."

Celia stands next to me. "It's 'cause they edit out all of the tedious parts of the show. This is reality, kids."

Just then Taylor pops out of the courtroom. "What's all the yelling?"

Blinding her with the flashlight, Celia says, "Just Kendall venting her frustration."

"Do you blame me?"

To Taylor, Celia asks, "Are y'all getting anything in there?"

Taylor motions us forward. "You should come in here. This is pretty fascinating, what's going on."

I perk up. "Evidence?"

Taylor turns, easing into a smile. "Well, something."

I nearly start to run. "Jackpot, baby!"

"Yo, Asiaf." Celia calls upstairs to where Becca's been doing some EVP work. "We're all meeting in the courtroom."

"I'll be right there."

As we walk toward the courtroom, my head begins to hurt in a crazy mixture of fear and anxiety. I must squash the emotions. Loreen says a spirit can pick up on things like that. Especially if it's an entity with an ax to grind. Even if I am dealing with Charles Stogdon, I know nothing about how he was in life. All the research shows that if a person was an asshole in life, they're one on the other side as well. Is that what's causing my head to want to explode? 'Cause it does. A searing hot burn coupled with a tribal pounding. I smell the pungent odor of alcohol in the air. I slide my fingers to my forehead and massage my skull. This must be what it's like to have a wicked-bad hangover. My temples vibrate under the skin and it seems like my eyes are going to cross from the pain. "Someone associated with this room liked his liquor," I say. "A lot."