A Guide to the Other Side (23 page)

I turned and walked away.

“Deal with which one?” she called out, sounding genuinely confused.

“All of it!” I yelled, and a couple of girls next to me jumped in terror.

My eyes were probably still red and wet when Bobby saw me and raised his eyebrows.

“Dude, what happened to you?”

“Allergies,” I sniffled. “Really bad allergies.”

  *  *  *  

At quarter past eleven I sneaked out of school and felt my feet propelling me forward to the church. I was clutching the talisman with both hands and muttering about light and positivity under my breath, and to anyone unlucky enough to see me on the street, I probably looked like a ranting lunatic.

The reverend was waiting for me outside the church.

“Oh, good!” he said as I walked through the parking lot to the entrance. “You made it.”

“I am so ready for this all to be over,” I said.

“Well, she'll be here soon enough,” he said. “Hopefully, we'll have our answers.”

He eyed the talisman in my hands.

“Expecting a visit from the Sheet Man as well?”

“You never know,” I said. “If Angela's the cause of all this evil, then I need to be ready.”

He pulled out the cross chain that was hidden below his shirt and smiled. “I'll be ready too.”

We walked inside and waited in the office.

At ten past noon Angela Mendoza-Parker strolled into the office. She was a woman in her midthirties, and though it was a Thursday afternoon, she was wearing a hot-pink dress and black heels. Her hair was a nice-looking bundle of curls.

“Hola!”
she said. “I'm looking for Rrrreverend Henry?”

“That's me,” he said, standing up and extending his arms. “Thank you for coming.”

She smiled one of those smiles where she scrunched her eyes and cheeks together, but her mouth didn't move. “You found something espensive?” She saw me glaring at her, and since I also happened to be holding a primitive wooden bowl with an egg resting in it, she immediately assumed I was insane. “Oh, I so sorry to interrupt your time with a . . . a child of God.”

“No, it's fine,” Reverend Henry said. “Baylor is actually the reason I called you here today.”

She blinked, scrunching her eyes up again. “I don't understand. I thought you found something? I was thinking a watch or a necklez?”

Reverend Henry looked at me and raised his eyebrows. I stood up, clutching the talisman tightly, and swallowed hard.

“Angela, my name is Baylor Bosco, and I can communicate with people who have crossed over. Your husband, Alfred, has been haunting me, and now he's taken a ghost hostage in whatever limbo he's trapped in.”

Her lips, covered in bright-red lipstick, spread a centimeter apart.

“I know who you are,” she said. “You're a devil man. I leaving.”

“No!” I yelled as she turned away. “I know what you did!” She froze and looked back, her face finally showing some genuine emotion: fear.

“That's right,” I continued, taking a step forward. “I know all about how you married Alfred for his money and then ripped off his kids, making sure they got nothing.”

Her reaction was not what I expected. Rather than appearing remorseful or even acting out in rage, her face sank into relief.

“You don't know anything,” she said quietly, and she turned and rushed out of the room.

“Wait!” I said, following her out the door and past some pews. “You can't just leave.”

“You have no idea what you're talking about,” she yelled, picking up her pace. There were a few scattered people sitting in the pews, looking over in shock.

“Then tell me what I need to know so he'll leave me alone!”

“I loved him,” she said, practically running to the door. “And it's none of your business.”

She had just burst through the doors when I took a running leap forward and grabbed on to her arm. My hand slid down and touched the gold bracelet she wore around her wrist, and suddenly a vision flashed through my head. I saw a hazy, dark room occupied by Angela and another woman.

“This is just the first of many gifts,” the other woman said, holding the same bracelet Angela was wearing, “if you agree to the terms, of course.”

“It's not right,” Angela said.

“Alfred's the devil, honey,” said the other woman. “Just think of yourself as a guardian angel making things right.”

Angela was frowning, but she was also hungrily eyeing the bracelet. She was dressed in baggy clothes, and her hair looked like black straw.

“He deserves what's coming to him, and we'll all be better off,” the other woman said.

Angela nodded to her, her jaw clenched. “I'll do it.”

And then the most wicked laughter erupted from the other woman, Rosalie, such terrible, cacophonous glee that I screwed up my eyes and pressed my hands to my ears, and suddenly the vision was gone.

“You're a liar!” I yelled as Angela came back into view in the parking lot. She had clearly just relived the same memory attached to the bracelet, because her legs shook violently and her heels seemed in danger of cracking in half. “You've got to be kidding me! You and Rosalie plotted against Alfred? She got you to marry him so that you could steal the money from his children?”

“It's not like that!” Angela said, tears streaming down her face. “I was broke, and Rosalie found me and took me under her wing.” She wiped away the tears with both hands, her eyes pleading with me. “She got me back on my feet, and then . . . she asked for a favor.”

I shook my head. “You are a horrible person. No wonder Alfred's been haunting me.”

“No!” she cried. “There's more to it. Once I got to know Alfred, everything changed. He was sweet to me, and he cared about me, and I took care of him.”

“No you didn't,” I spit. “You put him in a nursing home and told his kids he lived at home!”

“He told me to!” she said, her voice rasping. “He was getting sick in the head, and he didn't want to be a burden. He really loved me.” She swallowed hard. “At least, I thought he did. The day he died, a note showed up in my room.”

“What did it say?”

She reached into her purse as tears dripped down her nose and onto the pavement. She pulled out an envelope and handed it to me. “I carry it with me everywhere.”

On the crinkled front of the envelope Alfred had written “Angie” in neat cursive.

I pulled out the letter, unfolded it, and scanned the page.

Angie,

We met tonight for the first time, and I plan on marrying you. Why? Because I know Rosalie put you up to this, and since I'm so old and you're so pretty, I thought, why not have some fun in my final years? I know Rosalie is after my money, and the old bag is dim enough to think she can outsmart me. My kids each have a secret trust they'll gain access to when they're 30. I want them to work hard and live normal lives until then.

As for the rest of my money, you can have it. I've learned a lot about you and know you need it. Help your family out. Do some good with it. All I ask is that you don't share it with Rosalie. That witch would run off with it all and leave our kids penniless if she had her way.

Thank you, Angie. I hope you're happy with me.

Al

I looked at Angela in disbelief. “Alfred knew?”

She nodded. “The whole time. And he never said a word.”

“So did you keep his promise?”

She bit her lip and nodded. “Yes. After he died, I disappeared, and Rosalie got
nada
. I didn't even go to his funeral because I was so scared I would see her.”

I stared in horror. “So if you're not the one who's cursed Alfred into some weird limbo, that means . . .”

“Rosalie.” She nodded, wide eyed. “This is my first time back in town since he died, and I'm only here to clear out what's left of Alfred's things. I don't want her to know. She's into awful things that give me heebie-jeebies.”

“This all makes sense,” I said, a million thoughts rushing through my brain. “You're the only one who knows the truth, and you've been away for years. Alfred needed me to find you so that you could tell me and so that I could . . .” The words sputtered. What was I going to do to Rosalie? Kindly ask her to stop cursing Alfred's name? That probably wouldn't go over well.

“I have to go,” I said faintly. “Thank you, Angela. I hope you're spreading the good with his money.”

“I have formed a charity in Colombia,” she said proudly. “Alfred's memory lives on through the bright eyes of my country's poorest children.”

“Yeah, that's great,” I said, turning away. “See you!”

But I didn't have to go far, since Reverend Henry was standing outside.

“Well, that was interesting,” he said. “What happened with the bracelet? You touched it, and then all of a sudden you both looked shocked and you started yelling about Rosalie.”

“There was a memory attached to it,” I said, and I quickly explained everything I'd learned. “Can you take me to Winchester? We've got to pay Rosalie a visit.”

Reverend Henry looked at me, horrified. “That's a lot to take in, Baylor.” He checked his watch, hesitated, and said, “My next appointment is a lost cause anyway. Let's go.”

“SHOULD WE TELL THE POLICE
where we're going, Baylor?” Reverend Henry asked as we sped down the highway. “Is this woman dangerous?”

“She's only dangerous if you're already dead,” I said.

My spine was tingling. I knew the Sheet Man mystery was going to be solved today, and I was excited to have Kristina back. I wondered if she would have any good stories to tell me.

“What about your parents?” he asked. “Do they know you're here?”

“Uhh, not exactly,” I said breathily.

“Baylor, please do not tell me you cut school and didn't tell your parents.”

“I didn't think they would enjoy hearing about this very much.”

“You're going to get me in trouble,” he said, shaking his head. “I'm going to be cast out of my church because of you.”

“Well, hopefully, you'll be rewarded richly in the Beyond for all your efforts.”

He side-eyed me and shook his head.

We pulled up outside of Rosalie's charming cottage a little while later, and I found it odd that someone so terrible could inhabit such a nice home. It was the exact same situation with humans, though—sometimes the ugliest souls lived in the best-looking people.

“You can stay here,” I said to Reverend Henry. “I can take care of this on my own.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “Yeah, right, Baylor,” he said, unbuckling his seat belt. “Let's go.”

We got out and walked up the brick path to her home. The dogs started barking before we'd even made it up the steps to her porch.

“They don't sound very friendly,” the reverend said.

I knocked, but no one answered.

“Doesn't look like she's home,” he said.

I knocked once more, and this time the door opened just as my fist collided with it.

I looked over at the reverend, but he was gone. In fact, most of the color from the street was gone. The back of my neck tingled.
This is it.
The talisman was shaking in my hands. I only wished I could blame it on some kind of supernatural power instead of my nerves.

I crossed through the threshold and found myself in a narrow foyer. I could go either left or straight. Something told me to go left.

I turned the corner, and standing in the sparsely decorated living room was Rosalie, dressed in red sweatpants and a tight white shirt. She held in her hand a length of white material, the same as what covered the Sheet Man, who was standing right next to her with the other end of the material around his neck, like a dog on a leash.

My jaw fell open. How was Rosalie in this weird Sheet Man dimension with me?

Then it hit me: She was a medium too!

The worst part of the Sheet Man had been his eyes, and what suddenly struck me was that Rosalie now had the same eyes—black pits of tar piercing into my blue ones. It felt like snakes had invaded my stomach and slithered through my intestines. I knew Rosalie was bad, but I hadn't expected this.

“He found us out, dear,” Rosalie said quietly, her voice somehow echoing around the room as she lightly stroked the Sheet Man's material. “And I'd been so careful for so long.”

The Sheet Man said nothing, and I looked around for Kristina.

“She's here,” Rosalie said, a tight smile forming. “But I wanted to speak with you alone first.”

I saw that whenever her eyes moved, so did the Sheet Man's, like both sets were controlled by her.

“So Angela told you about our deal,” Rosalie said, “and all about Alfred's last bit of trickery?”