Strange Perceptions (3 page)

I opened my eyes to Jeremy’s room, walls painted black, old band posters on his walls. All the greatest guitar players, Eric Clapton, Jimi Hendrix, Jimmy Page, Stevie Ray Vaughn. “Police on My Back” by The Clash played on his iHome. Jeremy was going through a retro-punk phase. An open box of pepperoni and cheese pizza, extra cheese, lay on his bed. I loved any type of pizza, the more you piled on the better, but he liked single toppings so his taste buds wouldn’t be confused. Since he bought the pizza—or his dad did—he got to choose.

We argued—the live us—about the cat. A cat so fat it made Garfield look like a poster child for feline starvation. A large gray blob who lay curled up on Jeremy’s pillow, munching away on a piece of pepperoni.

“Dude!” Ghost Jeremy said, from behind me.

I turned. “When did you die?”

“Two weeks ago in the crash. Well, later at the hospital, but I was a goner at the crash. They did CPR on me for a long time. Should have worn my seat-belt. Didn’t help you though.”

“Oh man, sorry Jeremy.”

He let out a chirp of laughter. “Yeah, name’s Percival now. Shit man. What a messed up name. Sounds like a nerdy dweeb from Jane Austin. Call me Jeremy, it’s way cooler.”

“Cool.”

“You like the name Reo?”

I thought about it for a second. “Yeah I do. It sounds, I don’t know, exotic or something.”

“It’s way better than Percival. Sheesh. Anyway, here’s the deal. You know that Ivy chick you like? Yeah. Course you do. I think Dennis Spleenk is going rape her.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I know. Crazy. But here’s the deal. I was hanging out in the girl’s locker room at school and—”

“—Seriously?” I asked.

“Yeah, it was great. Different than I thought it’d be. Girls don’t run around naked as much as I hoped. They have private showers, which most of them don’t even use. If you’re quick you can still catch them topless while they’re changing.”

“What a perv.”

Jeremy sighed. “Can I help it that I find the female body so fascinating? It’s more like I appreciate fine art and naked girls are the finest art there is.”

“Whatever.”

“So anyway, I’m waiting and it’s getting tough cause live me isn’t in the boy’s locker room anymore, live me is moving away, skipping out and going to an early lunch. There’s just two girls left, Ivy and Kim Franks. They’re both hot and I’m thinking ‘hurry up and change’ but they’re not, they’re just talking and Ivy tells Kim that Dennis Spleenk has been taking pictures of her. He’s been real sneaky doing it.”

“What a creeper,” I said.

Our live selves went to Jeremy’s dresser, scrolled through his playlist, and discussed which music to play next. Behind them, on the bed, Rover the Cat, strolled over to the pizza and put one paw on a piece of crust and snagged a piece of pepperoni before going back to his perch on the pillow.

“You’re right,” Jeremy said. “He gives off a creeper vibe. What a freak.”

I nodded.

“Anyway, I got to thinking. What’s he doing with those pictures of her? I mean it’s weird, isn’t it? So here’s the deal. Dennis Spleenk rides the same bus I do, or did. I get this idea to follow him home and see what he’s all about. So I jump forward to the afternoon and me riding the bus home.”

The sound of the Romones, “Blitzkrieg Bop” filled the room.

“I thought you drove The Beast?”

“No gas funds, Dude. Plus, mom started hiding her purse. Anyway, I rode the bus that day and I knew Dennis Spleenk gets off a couple stops after me, so I just stayed on the bus after live me got off. I wasn’t sure if it’d work because, you know, it gets harder when you’re further away from your body.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“I found out if you’re really focused on something, then it’s not as hard. I was curious what Dennis Spleenk was up to. I thought he might have a shrine to Ivy in his closet or something. When he got off the bus I followed him. He went home, into his kitchen, makes a pbj and I’m thinking shit, it’s getting hard to stick around and there’s this horrible noise in my head.”

He totally had my attention.

“Only the noise is just in my head, you know? Spleenk doesn’t hear it. I’m ready to give up when he grabs his backpack and sandwich and goes to his room. I followed him thinking maybe he’d have pictures of Charles Manson up on his walls or some shit like that, but nope. His room is clean like a hotel room. His walls are bare except this print of a sailboat above his bed. It’s straight out of Leave it to Beaver.”

“Weird,” I said.

“Yeah. So I’m starting to feel nauseous watching this loser. I figured it was time to go when he takes his camera from his backpack and hooks it up to his computer. Now I’m hooked. I have to see what he does with the pictures. I’m looking over his shoulder at what he’s doing on the computer. Really focused, you know? And it’s like the noise in my head doesn’t even matter. I’m waiting to see what he does next. He gets up, while the photos are downloading, and locks his bedroom door. He comes back and puts the pictures in a folder named “Ivy” and starts a slide show of her.”

“So he’s obsessed?”

“Yeah, except here’s the deal. Some of the pictures are just of her face photoshopped onto naked women. He sticks his hand down his pants and I split. No way I’m sticking around while he wanks.”

I thought about what Jeremy had said, too embarrassed to mention I had thought of Ivy while spanking the monkey, several times.

“Isn’t that messed up?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Not cool. But that doesn’t mean he’s going to try to rape her.”

“I know, but it got my curiosity going. So I kept watching him. Stalking the stalker so to speak. I see him buy some shit off Mitch Henry.”

Mitch Henry was a major drug supplier at Warner’s Crest High. Adults didn’t suspect him because he’s clean-cut and gets good grades and hangs around the good kids and knows how to brown-nose the teachers better than anybody.

“So I get close to them,” Jeremy said. “I hear Dennis Spleenk ask how many to use. Mitch tells him roofies are tricky and asks if his target would be taking alcohol with them.”

“Now that’s scary,” I said. “How do you know he’s going to use the roofies on Ivy?”

“He has a big heart drawn on his calendar—what a fag. It’s this Friday and the heart has the initials I. R. in it.”

“Ivy Romaine,” I said. “This Friday, as in tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

We got quiet, thinking. The music cut off. Live Jeremy and live me were leaving, the empty pizza box now balanced in Jeremy’s too small garbage can. Live us were going to my place to check out some music on my computer. Jeremy’s mom and dad wouldn’t let him have a computer in his room. They had a desk in the corner of their family room with the computer facing out so everyone could see your business. At my place there’d be more privacy.

I heard a sound, like a thousand people whispering, far out in the distance. The noise was barely perceptible, but growing louder.

“Do you hear it?” Jeremy asked.

“Yeah. Reminds me of a bunch of crickets or spiders or something, crawling over each other.”

“That noise happens when you get away from your body,” Jeremy said. “The farther away you get the louder it grows until it’s so loud you can’t think about anything except the noise.”

“Freaky.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Let’s go back to when the pizza got here so we can plan out what to do.” He closed his eyes and disappeared.

I closed my eyes, thought of the pizza arriving, felt a quick whoosh in my head, opened my eyes and was in the same room but earlier. Jeremy was already there. Live us opened the pizza box. Rover the Cat watched them open it.

“How come,” I said, “we don’t see our ghost selves back here. We were here earlier.”

“Doesn’t work like that, kid.” I turned, Marty stood right behind me.

Marty nodded at Jeremy. “Percival.”

“Yo dude,” Jeremy said. “Call me Jeremy.”

“Percival,” Marty said, emphasizing the word. “Why don’t you run along. I need to have a chat with our friend here.”

“Who died and left you king?” Jeremy asked.

Marty’s teeth clenched tight on his cigar. “You did.” He smacked Jeremy in the chest with an open palm, like he had with me earlier, and Jeremy disappeared.

Marty shook his head. “That guy is trouble, Reo. You ought to steer clear of him.”

“Naw,” I said. “Jeremy’s a good guy. Just rebels against authority.”

Marty snorted. “You could say that. I talked to Welton, that’s Percival’s transition liaison. He says Percival’s got a bad attitude. Can’t get him to do anything.”

I didn’t know what to say. Jeremy played by his own rules.

“Okay kid, I got to make this quick. What’s your purpose? That’s your big question now. Am I right?”

“Well?”

“Good. So here it is. You don’t have a purpose. You’re dead. Good one, huh?” He laughed.

Seemed to me Marty wasn’t much help. “I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“I have a friend. Who’s alive and?”

“Oh no kid. You aren’t friends with the living. That’s a no-no.”

“Something bad is going to happen to her. This other guy, also alive, is going to hurt her.”

“Doesn’t matter. You don’t interfere with the living. It’s against the rules. Right now, you should consider this a big vacation and go back and relive the high points of your life.”

“But?”

“No buts, kid. Nothing good ever comes when you get involved with the living. Trust me on this.”

“How can you interfere with the living? I mean they can’t hear me, they don’t see me. I can’t touch them. I can’t even touch myself.”

“You can’t interfere. No sense trying,” Marty said.

I didn’t believe him. If ghosts couldn’t interfere with the living then why did there need to be a rule against it?

Marty studied my face, brow wrinkled. He started to say something, but then didn’t. Finally, he spoke. “I gotta run, kid. Don’t mess with the living.” He disappeared.

Music from the Romones, “Blitzkrieg Bop,” filled the room again.

I looked at live me and live Jeremy scrolling through music on the iPod and something occurred to me. I remembered having a small chill in this room when I was alive. Small enough it didn’t register consciously. I reached out and touched my live shoulder, my fingers sank in, disappearing. I jerked my hand back. Live me’s shoulder twitched.

When alive, did ghost me from the future cause the twitch and chill just then? Or had I touched my live body’s shoulder at that precise moment because I knew the chill was going to happen? I didn’t know what to think.

Jeremy appeared. “Is Osh-Gosh gone?”

“Marty?”

“Yeah, what’s up with his overalls? Sheesh.”

“He just left.”

“The dude is a major tool. Not as bad as the guy they saddled me with though. My guy was like Elton John on training wheels.”

Sometimes Jeremy said bizarre things nobody but him understood.

“Any ideas on Ivy?” I asked.

“Yeah. Here’s the deal. It’s going to be tough. You’ll have to do most the work. It was hard enough for me sticking around at the hospital, waiting for you. There’s no way I’ll be able to do what needs to be done.”

“What needs to be done?”

Jeremy grinned, head bobbing up and down. “You’re going to possess Dennis Spleenk.”

Jeremy and I went back to the time we were eight years old and our dads took us camping near lake Roosevelt. He said it’d be best for my training to be away from as many people as possible. Our live selves had just pitched the tents, two sorry looking, green canvas pup-tents Jeremy’s dad picked up from army surplus. Our dads discussed the best way to build a fire, the most efficient wood and kindling placement.

“Man,” I said. “I haven’t thought about this place in years.”

“Yeah.” Jeremy rocked back and forth from foot to foot.

We took in the majestic scene for a moment. Our campground was up from the lake, surrounded by woods on two sides and open fields on the others. We had a breathtaking view. The sun was at the horizon and the sky’s pink and orange colors reflected off the lake.

“So what do I do?” I asked.

“Just start walking.” He pointed at a small mountain in the distance. “Why don’t you head up there. Just ignore the noise in your head and keep focused on what you’re doing.”

“Right,” I said. “There’s no way I can climb that.”

“Why not?”

“It’s got to be five miles. And steep.”

“So?”

“So, it sounds like too much work.”

“Dude,” Jeremy said. “You’re dead. You don’t get tired. You won’t even breathe hard cause you don’t breathe.”

“Oh.” I looked at the mountain. “How does this help me?”

“Cause it’s just the same when you move away from your live body. Doesn’t matter if you’re moving in time or in distance, it’s the same.”

“How do you know all this?”

“There was this old ghost, must have been a hundred years old. I saw him at the hospital where I died. He was waiting for his wife. We talked and he explained all kinds of things. I practiced some of what he told me and was like, yeah this is cool. I tried to find him later but never could.”

“Marty told me sometimes ghosts just disappear.”

“Marty’s a douche. We travel through both time and place. Chances of finding someone both at a specific when and specific where is pretty slim.”