Death Whispers (Death Series, Book 1) (12 page)

BOOK: Death Whispers (Death Series, Book 1)
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“Not yet.” John looked down and strummed a
chord, making my teeth vibrate this close to the amp. It being
Thursday, we had lost our beginning of the week warm up problems.
Tomorrow would see us playing really well.

As we headed for the door, John and I hung our
guitars on their respective wood pegs. The sun blazed light through
the huge windows, dust motes swirling lazily in the air, suspended in
an invisible web.

Stepping outside my eyes locked on Jade.

I took in the sight of her like a cool drink:
shining black hair, tight pink cami, covered by a soft,
chocolate-colored T-shirt, jeans so blue they were almost black and
little strappy sandals. I loved a girl that dressed like one. She
smiled when she saw me and it was all I could do to not pick her up
and spin her around. Must keep feelings in check!

John cleared his throat, we turned and I waved at
him in a,
you caught me
way. We started walking toward my
house. John gave me the thumb sign for me to use my pulse later, I
nodded and kept walking. Finally, a chance to talk,.. but not my
house, not yet. I wasn't ready for the whole meet-the-parents thing.
I was a little shaky on having told them about Jade anyway, with all
the other stuff that was closing in on my life like a noose.

****

Dappled sunlight struggled through the canopy of
trees in the small park that stood at the opening of my neighborhood.
Little more than a drainage area when the development was first built
in the 1970s, it has become over time, a small oasis with structures
all around, except for the back, where the city park borders it,
separated by an ugly, cyclone fence. Huge indigenous evergreens tower
in the park, broken here and there by a lone Alder tree. These too,
cast pools of shade in the late afternoon light. Jade and I sat on a
well worn bench which stood just inside the entrance to the woods,
little more than a dirt path where a patch of sun slanted across her
forehead.

Our hands were still entwined when she asked,
“What's going on Sunday, Caleb?”

“Maybe you should pulse your aunt and let her
know when you'll be home?”

Jade pulled out her (slathered in iridescent
lavender hearts) pulse. “Good idea,” she said, sliding it back in
her pocket and leaning back against me.

“What did ya say?” I asked.

“I told her I was hanging out with a friend.”

It occurred to me that maybe not all kids would
just blurt out their romantic processes to their parents. I couldn't
imagine Jonesy doing it and not at all John. Huh.

“Did you tell her about us?” I asked.

“Well, I didn't tell her a name. I just said I
liked a boy at school.”

“What's your aunt's name?”

“Oh...Andrea,” she responded absently, as if
her mind was already a million miles away.

I whipped my pulse out of my pocket (it was
all-black because it's cool like that), and pulsed Mom:

Mom,
it's me-
CH

Hey
honey, whatcha doin'?
AH

I'm
here in the woods with Jade-
CH

You
are, are ya?
laughs
-
AH

We're
talking; when's supper?
CH

Usual
time-
AH

Okay,
I'll be on time-
CH

Jade
is welcome anytime, Caleb-
AH

Gotcha,
see ya-
CH

Love
you-
AH

I passed my thumb over the pad and the luminescent
characters faded to black. I looked up.

“Your mom.” A statement.

I nodded. “She says you're welcome to come over
anytime.”

Jade looked down, her long hair falling like ink
spilling.

She twisted in my embrace to look at me. “You
told your parents about me?”

I put my hand up, palm open. “Yeah, I mean, it's
not different than you telling your aunt Andrea, that you like a boy.
But,” I looked directly at her this time, “I gave them your
name.”

Jade squirmed, wringing her hands.

“What?”

“Do they know about...” she trailed off a
little, then resumed, “my dad and our family and all?”

“Yeah, I didn't tell them but they already
knew.”

We sat in silence for a few moments, not awkward
but like people that fit together like puzzle pieces.

“I love my aunt,” she said suddenly.

What could I do to make this better?

I knew. “My parents don't care and neither do
I.”

“Really?” she asked shyly, her hands
unclasping.

“Really.”

A huge grin appeared like sunlight breaking
through storm clouds. I grinned back. The moment held, grew and
became a perfect memory.

She did a little shiver as I gave her a side hug.
I was diggin' on that response.

“Sunday,” she said.

Oh
yeah,
that.
Mood-killer.

“Okay so, the APs are coming up on Monday?”
She looked at me like, yeah... duh.

“Well, I found out that I have AFTD.”

I
expected shock, surprise or something
.
But
Jade just looked back at me calmly.

“I already knew.”

What
the hell? “How?”

What she said next took my breath away: “Because
I'm an Empath.”

It
was like the biggest puzzle piece falling into place! I understood
her behavior! She already knew about my “problem” because she had
one of her own!

I
became instantly self-conscious. She knew stuff about me that maybe I
hadn't wanted her to know, like how much I liked her. Couldn't a guy
have a few secrets?

She sensed my tension. “This is why I haven't
said anything.”

I tried to relax.

“You haven't told anyone but me?” I asked.

“And Sophie. I was thinking about telling Andrea
but she may tell my dad.”

I was surprised. “Why would she do that?”

“I
don't know. She knows he's crappy, has been crappy, but she thinks he
has a right to know important stuff. She'd think this was.”

“Well, she's gonna find out after Monday.”

She nodded, she knew.

“My dad's got a cerebral inhibitor that I'm
gonna take so I won't hit the radar as a corpse raiser.”

“Caleb, they're gonna know that you're AFTD.”

“I
know, but I can be a lesser AFTD and I won't be that important. Ya
know, a two-point or something.”

“How do you know you can raise dead things?”
she asked.

I explained the cemetery, then the dog. Jade
showed a lot of sympathy for the dog. Just thinking about him was
bringing his “emotions” like a flood to me.

“Where is he now?”

“I don't know for sure but the impressions...”

She cut me off. “Impressions?” Jade asked with
a raised eyebrow.


Yeah,
if I think about him, he's like,
there
with me.” I tried to clarify.

“Like when I touch people...” she mused.


I
don't know if it's like what you have, but all I know is that I
thought
he needed to live, then he did
.

It was hard to make somebody understand when they couldn't do it,
“...and afterward I could sense his emotions.”

Do dogs really feel? Well yeah. Frogs do, I
shuddered, remembering pre-Biology.

“So,
what do you know about people?” I asked.

“Ah-uh, you're not getting off that fast!” She
laughed. “No off-topic, tell me about Sunday.”

“Well... Jonesy thought we needed to teach
Carson and Brett a lesson.”

Jade's brow furrowed into two, neat lines, kinda
like a number eleven.

I
rushed forward, “He thought it may divert them enough during the
Aptitude Tests that they wouldn't be paying attention to me or think
to let a teacher in on what I can really do.”

Jade's face knitted together in concentration, her
head tilting. Finally, she said, “I think it will work for that but
later, they're going to retaliate.”

Huh,
I knew what that meant:
they're
gonna open a can of whoop-ass all over you.

“I guess that's a chance we'll have to take.”

Jade rolled her eyes.

“Boys,” she said.

As if that explained all reason in the world.

“Listen, you remember what I told you about the
cemetery?” I threw out a little impatiently.

She nodded.

“Well, they won't respect me until I dominate
them. They're just that type. You see that, don't ya?”

“Yeah, I guess so. Brett lives by me. He has
always been,” she looked up, “difficult.”

I
looked at her dumbfounded. She couldn't be sympathetic to that loser?

She whispered, “His dad's worse than mine.”
She looked away and I didn't really know what to say.

The silence rolled out and I let it. Guys are good
at that. Girls, and Jonesy, who was sometimes classified as something
entirely new... a sub-species maybe, seem to want to fill silences
with talking. Guys didn't feel that obligation.

“When
we were little and met at the bus stop, his dad would sometimes meet
him in the afternoon and right there, in front of all the kids, he'd
be shit-faced drunk. Of course, he'd wait until the driver pulled
away before he started hitting on Brett.” She looked down, her
hands tightly clenched together, twisting, “... then he would drag
him off to the car. The next day at the bus stop Brett would be all
beat up.”

Jade looked up, standing tears shimmering, her
eyes very wide so they wouldn't fall. “He had it worse than me. At
least dad didn't yell and beat me in front of people.”

I
gulped, hell, this was horrible. And she thought that was better?

My
life, even with the stupid AFTD was better than a lot of people. I
didn't want to feel bad for Brett. He was such a raging
dickhead.
But, I could see the why of his behavior. Carson was still a mystery
though, he had everything going for him. It came down to choice
.
And Jade had a similar background to Brett and she
wasn't
acting like a jerk.

Jade seemed to understand my thought process and
answered almost as if I had spoken out loud (duh... empath), “His
mom is the same and never did anything to stop it. At least my mom is
dead. I just had the one parent. When things became really bad,”
she shuddered, “I would escape to Andrea's.”

“Okay, so you like, feel sorry for Brett?” I
was trying to put what she said into a box, for later reflection.


Kinda.
I hate that he's mean to me. But, at the bus stop, the other kids
didn't know what to do to help him. His dad was
ü
ber-scary
and their families were normal,” she smiled and corrected herself,
“more normal.” She went on, “I knew what it felt like, how
embarrassing it was to have a parent that out-of-control, the feeling
of slippage. Like you're hangin' on to the edge of the cliff and some
maniac has a hold of the rope and you have to hang on and hope they
don't let go.” A defeated little sigh escaped her before she
continued, “I just wanted him to know that I was hangin' on to his
rope too. That the maniac
wasn't
the only one that had a hold of it. So, we were friends. Then, for
some reason, last year when we started going here,” she gestured
back in the direction of Kent Middle School behind us, “he started
acting like he didn't know me.” She shrugged. “I just sorta gave
up. He and Carson became friends and that was the end of that.”

Interesting.

We sat for a moment, chewing on what she had told
me.

“I want you to come on Sunday,” I said.


I
don't know, what if Carson and Brett get really mad and something bad
happens? I don't like Brett getting it. It feels wrong. If it
backfires, they'll be more determined to make sure the right adults
find out what you
can
do.”

“Speaking of that, tell me how you knew?”

She was wringing her hands a little then I covered
one with my own.

“Just now, when you touched me I just got a
really strong... impression,” she paused struggling for clarity,
“of concern and... love.” She looked quickly to see if I was
offended by the “L” word. I couldn't say I loved her yet but I
cared. Maybe there wasn't as much of a difference between the two?


Anyone
can guesstimate, but I
know
.
People can't lie to me. I know who likes me and who doesn't. And
that's not so great, believe me. But what can I do? It is what it
is,” she said.

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