“I don’t understand, but it’s nice here with you and Cola.” Cola perked up at his name, his collar flickering with quicksilver images. I scratched his head, which made him thump his back leg in his usual way. “You’re such a good boy. And I’ll bet you’re a great Comforter.”
“He’s the best,” Grammy said.
“I always wondered what happened to animals. What about my cats Snowflake and Pinky?” I looked around. “Can I see them, too?”
She shook her head. “There isn’t time.”
“Why not?”
“While time has little meaning here, it’s ticking away on Earth. But before you go, I must warn you about Dark Lifers.”
“What are they?”
“Dark souls who can steal energy and human bodies. They can’t stay in a host body longer than a full moon cycle, so they go from body to body, causing trouble.”
“Can’t you stop them?”
“I have to find them first — and travel between our worlds is difficult.” She frowned. “Regretfully, I’ve put you at risk by bringing you here. For a few days you’ll have an afterglow that will attract Dark Lifers. They may try to touch you to feed on your energy. If you see one, call me by doing our lucky ritual and I’ll send in the Dark Disposal Team. You have nothing to fear.”
“I’m not afraid, but I’d like to help you. What do Dark Lifers look like?”
“Like ordinary people — Earthbounders — except for their gray fingernails and a shadowy haze around their hands. Their touch can be painful and their lies even more dangerous. So avoid them and stay safe.” She gave me a sad smile. “You have to return now.”
“Now?” I frowned. “But I don’t want to leave you. Can’t I stay longer?”
“Sorry, hon. But that’s not possible. You have a wonderful life waiting for you. That scholarship is going to open up fantastic opportunities.”
“As an entertainment agent?”
“It’s entirely up to you.”
“But things have a way of going the wrong way for me. Making connections, making friends, is harder than I expected.” I winced as the words “Basket Cases” replayed in my head. Trinidad would never sign on with a loser. “Grammy, can’t I just stay here? You said I could decide what I wanted, and I want to be with you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course.”
She gazed at me in a way that made me think I was forgetting something important. Then she spoke in a tone so soft I had to lean forward to hear. “What about your family?”
Her question struck me with a jolt like lightning. I’d been so happy to see Grammy and Cola, I’d completely forgotten about Mom, Dad, Cherry, Melonee, and Olive.
“Look here.” My grandmother reached down to touch Cola’s collar.
The collar sparked with life and colors, reeling with sound and shining rays of live video onto Grammy’s open hand. When I peered closely at her palm, it was like viewing a TV screen. Memories flashed by. Birthdays, holidays, ordinary every days. Camping trips, school plays, holding the triplets in the hospital after they were born, Mom and Dad taking me on a special dinner because I was the Big Sister now.
There were scenes of my friends, too.
My kindergarten best friend, Lola, sharing one of her prized naked Barbies; reciting Australian words over the phone with my online pal Emily; giggling as I taught Alyce some of these words (“tacker,” “bikkies,” “dunny”); screeching through a red light when Dustin tried to teach me to drive; staging a vampire neck-bite for Alyce to paint; a school play where my family and friends filled an entire row and applauded like I was the leading lady rather than the ass end of a costumed donkey.
The palm pictures faded, but their applause sang in my ears.
“Still want to stay with me?” Grammy asked gently.
I remembered the hurtful things I’d overheard at the party, which had sunk my self-esteem like tons of gravity. But a different kind of gravity, a foundation of real friends, supported and grounded me. Not fake Jessica and her crowd, but people I could count on — like Dustin, Alyce, and my family.
A lump ached in my throat. “They’ll miss me if I don’t come back.”
“Yes,” she said simply.
“But it’s so hard … I hate leaving you.”
“‘Hate’ is a four-letter word and it’s strictly forbidden here. Take heart, Amber; our parting will be short. What will seem like a very long life to you is a blink in time here.” She reached down to pat Cola’s head. “We’re always here for you.”
Clouds thickened around me. “So how do I get back?”
“See that path up ahead?” Grammy Greta pointed and bright bulbs of light lit up a winding pathway. “Follow the path to an area of velvety darkness illuminated with shooting streaks overhead that are as dazzling as the Milky Way. It’s very beautiful, but don’t linger. Make a left turn.”
“A left turn? At the Milky Way?”
“Right,” she said. “Be happy, Amber.”
“I’ll try,” I promised. Then we hugged — for the second “last” time.
Cloudy puffs under my feet pushed me toward the road of glowing lights. I was moving — not exactly walking, but almost floating through a fine mist that sparkled like body glitter. When I reached a burst of brilliant light, I hesitated. The light beckoned, offering a glorious glimpse of deep green trees against a sapphire-blue lake, with waving figures on a distant shore. I was tempted to follow the light — until I thought of my friends and family.
So I surrendered to the flowing current that pushed me forward, and entered a darkened tunnel. Darkness faded like a segue in a movie, from night to dawn, and overhead I saw a dazzling light show — like crystal shards of stars sprinkled across a glittering path. The stars shone brighter: glowing, waving, inviting.
“Like the Milky Way,” I murmured.
I replayed my grandmother’s directions to a fork in the starry light path, hesitating for only a moment to look each way.
Then I turned right.
* * *
Slowly, I swam back to consciousness.
When I tried to open my eyes, agonizing pain crashed into me, and I realized I was back on Earth.
“Grammy, take me back!” I wanted to scream. “I’ve changed my mind!”
The pain was too much, overwhelming, concrete buildings exploding with shards of piercing glass, slamming onto me, torturing. I couldn’t take it.
My head floated, thoughts drifting and nausea and pain attacking my body. I sensed movement, someone bending over me … a prick on my arm and …
More nettles, I thought, as I sank into darkness.
When I awoke next, I heard a mechanical hum of machinery and distant murmurs. I smelled an odor like disinfectants and starchy sheets covering me. I vaguely saw pale light streaming underneath a door, and heard voices whispering outside. I tried to lift my head, but pain exploded. Moaning, I sank against a cool pillow. Weak, dizzy, utterly helpless.
Ohmygod! I was in a hospital! My condition must be serious! How badly was I hurt? I could barely move, although I was able to wiggle my toes and fingers, so I wasn’t paralyzed. I’d expected some broken bones (I mean, I’d been hit by a truck), only I didn’t feel any casts. But the pain was beyond miserable.
How bad were my injuries? Had I been disfigured? What if my face was horribly scarred? I’d seen an episode on Oprah once, where this supermodel was crushed so badly she didn’t have a nose or half of her mouth.
What if that happened to me?
