Dead Girl Walking (4 page)

I was hugging the letter, poised to rush into the house and tell my parents the good news, when I heard an engine roar, the screech of wheels, and a scream.

Then Sheila’s brand new mail-mobile, which was careening out of control in reverse, ran right into me.

And I died.

Golden light shone so brightly my eyes should have hurt, yet they didn’t. Nothing hurt.

I didn’t even itch!

Surrounded by the dazzling clouds of light, I felt incredible, amazing joy. I wasn’t anywhere in particular, yet I was somehow everywhere, which made no sense at all.

Dreaming. Yeah, that had to be it. Floating, flying, sweet dreams soaring. There was music, too, an orchestra of crystal-pure angelic music. And when the clouds cleared, a woman glided toward me with arms outstretched, smiling wide. A smile I loved dearly and had never expected to see again. Not on Earth, anyway.

Could that mean I was … ?

“Not quite,” Grammy Greta told me, squeezing my hands and peering deep into my heart. Strangely, she had no wrinkles and her hair was dark brown, not silvery gray. She wore beige slacks and a striped shirt with a cat embroidered on the pocket. Not the starchy yellow cotton dress I’d seen her wearing at her funeral.

Funeral … buried in the ground … over a year ago.

I blinked at Grammy, then looked down at myself, searching for some clue to what was going on. I was still me, in ripped jeans and Dustin’s baggy shirt that barely covered my nettle bumps and reddened scratches. I ran a finger along an old scar on my right thumb, where I’d been snagged by a hook on my first (and last) fishing trip with Dad. The scar felt real and so did I—yet how could that be?

“Am I dreaming?” I lifted my gaze from my hands to Grammy’s beaming face.

“Dreams and reality are elementally the same.”

“I don’t get it … but it doesn’t matter. If this is a dream, it’s a great one and I’m in no hurry to wake up. Oh, Grammy, I’ve missed you so much!”

“I’ve missed you, too.” When she squeezed my hands she felt real and alive and wonderful.

“How is this possible?” I asked, marveling at the misty ground swirling around my very ordinary sneakers, scents of mountain and ocean breezes, and the amazing woman standing in front of me. “I can’t believe we’re together. I never thought I’d see you again.”

“But I’ve never been far away, and I see you all the time. Remember the card you received on your birthday with no signature?”

“Sure. The cute black dog on the front looked exactly like Cola. I tacked it on my bulletin board. I couldn’t figure out who sent …” I stared at her widening smile. “You?”

“I was only the messenger.” She nodded. “It was his idea.”

“His? You mean … Cola?”

There was a sharp bark as a furry black dog sprang out of nothingness with the bouncing energy of a puppy. He scampered over to me, red tongue lapping and his black whip-like tail wagging.

If being with Grammy Greta was a shock, seeing my favorite (dead!) dog was absolutely mind-boggling. Until now I’d thought it was a dream, but dreams didn’t come with doggy breath and barking. Cola looked so healthy! When he’d died at the old age of nineteen, he’d been blind and lame. Now his black eyes shone with lively mischief. His tongue tickled my face when he slurped a doggy kiss.

“Cola!” I wrapped my arms around his soft warm neck. When I brushed against his luminous gold collar, sparks sizzled like an electric halo. Vivid images circled around Cola’s neck as if my touch had pushed a remote control button and switched on a holographic TV. The cinematic collar reeled with pictures and garbled sounds. I tried to focus on the images but it was all a blur. Then abruptly the spinning stopped. The collar stilled to a plain gold band.

“What kind of collar is
that?”
I jumped back, the buoyant ground swishing cloudy puffs around my ankles.

“It’s not a collar. Cola’s Duty Director notifies him of new work assignments.”

“Work … you mean my dog has a job?”

“Why does that surprise you? Animals are very spiritual creatures and have evolved to a higher plane than humans. Cola was honored with the position of Comforter. Usually that work goes to cats or ferrets, but Cola showed outstanding empathetic abilities.”

“He always did seem to understand me.” I nodded, patting his head. “What does he do?”

“Comfort people when they’re alone and frightened. Comforters take the form of beloved pets, to help as a soul embarks on its final journey. Cola joins the person, usually in a hospital bed, offering love and companionship until their wait ends. I’m very proud of him … and of you, too.”

I continued to pat Cola’s furry head as I met my grandmother’s tender gaze. There was so much I wanted to say, so many things I’d longed to tell her.

“It’s all right, honey,” she said softly. “I already know.”

“Even about my scholarship?”

“Yes. It’s a wonderful opportunity.”

“Except how can I … I mean … the mail truck went out of control. What happened?” I spoke with no fear, only confusion. “I was sure the truck would hit me, but I feel okay and nothing’s broken. My nettle bumps don’t even itch.”

“They will when you return. But for now you’re in a neutral state. I brought you here in that instant before you were struck.”

“So the mail truck did hit me?”

“Yes, but only your body.” She nodded. “I couldn’t bear to watch you suffer, so I bent a few rules and brought you here.”

“How? Are you and Cola angels?”

“Far from it,” she said with a chuckle. “I manage a complicated network of volunteers—some living and some moved on. My job comes with certain abilities—like the power to bring you here. I’m so proud of you, honey. Watching you read that scholarship letter was one of my proudest moments.”

“You saw that?” I asked, pleased.

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the worlds! I helped make it happen. Not that you wouldn’t have done it on your own, but a persuasive voice in the right ear can speed things up.”

“I’ve heard that advice before.” I snapped my fingers. “I read it in
Create Happiness Through Happen-Ness
.”

“That was some of our guide-writers’ best work,” Grammy Greta said, nodding. “You know what they say about great books.”

“Actually … I don’t.”

“Great books aren’t written, they’re relayed.” She glanced down at my wrist. “I’m pleased to see you wearing the lucky bracelet.”

“I always wear it.” I caressed the rainbow cloth. “But it wasn’t lucky today.”

A screech echoed in my head with the blur of the mail truck careening toward me. But I pushed it aside, detached and emotionless, as if it had happened to someone else.

Around me clouds shifted in purple and silver hues, and I glimpsed a panorama of brilliant green meadow, shady trees, sparkling water, and a distant shore where figures waved. I had a strong sense of knowing them … yet I couldn’t possibly.

“Tell me, Grammy. What is all this?” My fingers curled in Cola’s silky fur as I regarded my grandmother solemnly. “Heaven?”

“Close, but not exactly. It’s more of a moment, a transition in time, than a specific location.”

“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?”