The Black (15 page)

"So, then, I might be able to contact Marsh on my own," I said, thinking out loud.

"Maybe. It's all about focus and concentration and visualizing what you want to have happen."

"So I just think it? Like moving around in the Black or into the Light?"

"More or less. But don't expect big results."

My mind raced to a couple of possibilities, but I needed to know more.

"My gramps said that we can block spirits from entering our vision. How do I do that?"

"You want to keep Damon away?"

"Well, yeah. Duh."

"Then, it's done. If you don't want him in your vision, he can't go there."

"Simple as that?"

"Yes, but only in the Black. You can't keep him away from you in the Light. The Light is neutral."

"Got it. The Light is Switzerland."

She frowned. She didn't get that. I stood up and helped her to her feet.

"I think you're right," I said. "If we're here to become better people, then we have to follow our
conscience. If that's wrong, then maybe I belong in the Blood myself."

Maggie's eyes focused on something behind me. I turned to see two Watchers standing in front of Gramps' house.

"Did you hear that?" I yelled to them. "I'm gonna do what I think is right! If you don't like that—"

The Watchers vanished.

I laughed. "Guess that wasn't such a good start."

Maggie chuckled. Her face lit up when she laughed. I hated it that she was so troubled, no matter what she might have done in a previous life.

"Good luck, Cooper. I hope your friend will be okay. And you too."

I wanted to kiss her, but didn't think that would be cool. "I'll let you know."

I took a step back and turned to face the colorful fog. I knew exactly where I wanted to go, and with two steps I was there.

I found myself standing on the grass between the lake and our cottage on Thistledown Lake, in the Light. Sydney was on the float in the lake, working on her tan. She had on a red bikini top and jean shorts. I knew why she had on the shorts, too. She was hiding the tattoo.

Marsh was lying on a blue towel, asleep. On his chest was a Batman graphic novel. He had no idea that the spirit of his dead friend was standing there, watching him snore. Heck, he didn't even know his friend was dead. Nobody did. They probably all thought I'd taken off to be alone for
a while. I'd done it before. That had to be why they weren't searching for the body that was lying in sixty feet of water. Somehow, some way, I had to
let them know. If I was going to protect Marsh from Damon, he had to know that I was dead.

I knelt down next to my sleeping friend and barked out, "Ralph!"

He didn't react, no big surprise. The graphic novel was open on his chest. I thought that I could do something with the pages. Maybe move them around until it opened to a page that would get Marsh's attention. I leaned over and stared at the book, focusing my thoughts on the page, willing it to move.

I felt the odd tingle move through me. It was the strangest thing I'd ever felt and I had to believe that it was the kind of energy ripple that Maggie had created. If there were any two people who had a connection that would make this work, it was Marsh and me. The air in front of the book went blurry. I blinked. It wasn't my imagination. It was really happening. Slowly, ever so slowly, the page lifted and gently flapped over as if blown by a slight gust of wind.

"Yes!" I shouted, and jumped to my feet.

I had actually done it! Marsh's eyes opened lazily and he laughed. He must have felt the air move. Psyche! But when I knelt down and looked at the book, my excitement ended. As dramatic as it was to have turned the page, it meant nothing. It wasn't like there was a page in the book that said, "Hey, Marsh. Cooper's dead and his body is lying on the bottom of the lake, and you're being haunted by a Macedonian madman."

I sat down, trying to figure out a plan B, when I noticed that a breeze had kicked up. A real one. There was a field of dandelions next to our house and the gentle wind had blown in a storm of gray
seeds that floated in the air like a
fuzzy cloud. I stared at the floating seeds as they danced on the breeze, thinking how they were so light. And moveable. Was it possible that I could direct them somewhere? If I did, what would I do with them? Spell out "Coop is a ghost!" in the sky? Not likely. I had to come up with something simple like the triple swirl tattoo. Marsh was a smart guy. He could put two and two together and get twenty-two. But what could I possibly tell him that would put him on the trail to the truth?

The night I died I had gone out on the lake to look at the stars. Marsh and I had done that a hundred times ourselves, without the gruesome speedboat death part, that is. What kind of clue could I give him that would get him thinking that way?

I was interrupted by a splash of water, and a scream. While I was focused on floating dandelion seeds, Sydney had come in from the float and tossed a bucketful of lake water onto Marsh's head. Witch.

Marsh sat up fast, sputtering water and wiping his eyes. "What was that for?"

"You were creeping me out, lying there laughing like that," Sydney said. "I thought you were having a freak seizure."

"That's idiotic," Marsh shot back, more stunned than angry.

"Idiotic? Me?" Sydney laughed and picked up Marsh's book. "You're lying here reading comic books and laughing like a lunatic and I'm the idiot?"

I said, "It's not a comic book. It's a graphic novel."

Of course she didn't hear me.

"It's a graphic novel," Marsh said.

"Thank you," I added for nobody's benefit but my own.

Marsh tried to grab it back but Sydney held it away. "Seriously?" she said, scoffing. "Batman? Isn't that for kids?
Pow! Bam! Crunch!"

"If you looked closer, you'd see it's a much edgier, multifaceted version of the legend of the Bat than the comedic version you're referring to."

I said, "You're not helping yourself here, dude."

Sydney turned cold and stared Marsh down. I'd seen that look before. It could burn through lead. Marsh didn't stand a chance.

"I'd laugh if I thought you were kidding," she said with disdain. After dropping the graphic novel onto the towel, she turned away, clutching whatever thick important textbook she was reading, and marched for the house.

Sydney was an expert at making people feel small. It made me wonder if Marsh needed protection from Damon
and
my sister. He stood there looking lost, then lifted his chin and closed his eyes. I wasn't sure what he was doing at first, until I registered the dandelion spores again. The storm of seeds was pretty thick as it floated past him, some getting caught in his hair. Seeing them gave me an idea.

I dropped to my knees in front of the dark blue towel and focused my thoughts. My idea was to use the dandelion spores to create a pattern, like Maggie did with the chocolate and the glass. It was more complex than the triple swirl, but I knew that if I could pull it off, it would put Marsh square on my trail. I closed my eyes and created a mental image in my mind. Five images, actually. The ones
I knew best. It was Marsh who'd taught me about them. He was the expert. I made fun of him at the time. Now I hoped the knowledge he shared with me would pay off.

I felt the same tingle of energy move through me. I didn't dare open my eyes for fear of breaking the tenuous connection. I stayed focused, seeing the patterns in my head. The five patterns.

The tingle left as abruptly as it had come. I tentatively cracked open one eye, looked down at the blue towel, and
saw them. Right there, in front of me, the five patterns I had imagined, created by dandelion spores.

Hercules. Draco. Cassiopeia. Ursa Major. Ursa Minor. Five constellations in the summer sky.

"I rock," I said, and glanced at Marsh.

He saw the patterns, and looked pale. He was too smart to think that he had just witnessed a random accident. He had already seen enough impossible visions to begin questioning what was going on. My hope was that this would get his mind working the problem over, the way I knew it could.

Between the two of us, only one of us wasn't freaked. Marsh grabbed his Batman book and ran for the house, terrified. I felt bad about it, but I knew Marsh. The wheels were now turning. The triple swirl led him to Sydney . . . Now he was on a path that would lead to me. I was sure of it.

I sat down and laughed. I'd done it.

I had made contact.

11

I had finally taken some control.

It was a small victory, but it gave me hope. Ever since my death I'd felt like a cork floating down a wild river, bouncing off every rock along the way. When I created the constellation patterns on the towel, it made me realize that I could start calling my own shots . . . or at least dodge some of the rocks.

The question then became, what would I do with the ability to communicate with Marsh? Gramps wanted me to stick my head in the sand and let Damon do whatever he wanted, but what kind of friend would let that happen? I didn't think being a jerk who let his friend hang out to dry was working toward becoming the best person I could be. I always had Marsh's back in Trouble Town and I wasn't going to let a little thing like dying change that. If it meant spending extra time in the Black as punishment, fine by me.

It wouldn't be such a horrible place if not for the fact that I was being harassed by a centuries-old creep with an attitude. That part sucked. I wanted to get even with Damon for what he had done to me but there was an eternity for that. I could wait.

Helping Marsh wouldn't be easy, though. He was a sci-fi geek who had dissected Starfleet schematics since he was six, but he didn't believe in ghosts. Before he could learn and accept the truth, he first had to know that I was dead. So did my family. It wasn't a happy thought. My death was going to be rough on everybody. Even Sydney would shed a tear. I hoped. They had to know sooner or later. Sooner would be better and not just because of Damon. I didn't like the idea of my body lying in mud under the lake. It wasn't like I needed it anymore, but still. Other than the time I had a vicious appendicitis attack, that body did okay by me. It deserved better than that. I figured that since I was missing, the best place to see how the search was going was to visit the sheriff's office in Thistledown, so I went there.

Sheriff Vrtiak was a total Barney whose crime-fighting skills pretty much began and ended with giving speeding tickets to tourists. The guy caught me once partying on the mini golf course after closing but I convinced him that it would be a mistake to arrest me because if word got out that the golf course was a great place to hang out after hours then he'd have to set up a permanent patrol and tell the owners to put up a security fence and alarms and spotlights, which wouldn't make him a popular guy and would hurt his chances for re-election, and I promised that if he let me slide I'd never go back there again. Even to play golf. He didn't buy a word of it but he didn't want to have to deal with me so he let me go with a warning. I wasn't sure if he was a good guy or just lazy. From then on I partied at the drive-in movie next door.

The Thistledown Police Department consisted of him and a secretary named Connie who was older than cracked paint. I was hoping that when I got to the office I'd see a flurry of activity with maps on the walls and calls coming in from volunteers who were poised to search the countryside, and news crews swarming to find out what had happened to the most popular guy at Davis Gregory.

Instead, I saw Connie, alone, talking on the phone with her feet up on the desk. Connie was a grandma who always wore brightly colored stretch pants and flowered blouses. She had blond hair thanks to modern technology and a single ponytail that came out of the side of her head. She was a cartoon of somebody from the eighties you'd see on TV Land.

"Yeah. That kid's trouble," she said to whoever she was talking to. "I knew that since he was old enough to light firecrackers. Good thing he's only here in summer."

If I didn't know better, I'd have sworn she was talking about me.

She listened, then said, "He's been gone a couple of days. Everybody thinks he took off to run away from the mess he got himself into down in Stony Brook."

Whoa. She
was
talking about me!

"Who's on the phone?" I asked, but of course she couldn't hear me.

"His parents aren't so worried. They know he'll turn up. What? Nah, there's no search going on. What's the point?"

I wanted to yank her sideways ponytail. That would give her the point.

Sheriff Vrtiak ambled in from his office and tossed something down on Connie's desk. She didn't even sit
up and
pretend
like she was working, that's how lame the place was.

"Make some copies of that for me, would
ya?"
Vrtiak
asked. "If he doesn't turn up, we'll start sending 'em
out tomorrow."

Connie didn't acknowledge his request and Vrtiak shuffled back into his office. What a couple of tools. I looked at the paper and was surprised to see it was a picture of me. It was my school shot from the previous year. I hated that picture. I'd worn a tie, thinking nobody did that anymore and I'd be all cutting edge, but it turned out all the geeks wore ties and I just ended up looking like some
doofus
who was trying too hard. And this was the picture everybody was going to use to try and track me down? No way they'd find me! Then again, my body was underwater and I probably didn't look much like any picture that was ever taken of me.
Yeesh.