The Black (9 page)

"Are Damon's soldiers around?" I asked, glancing around the yard.

Still no response.

"Wait…
was it you?"

She gave me a subtle nod.

"You pulled me back here? Why?
How?"
I said as I climbed the first stair.

She quickly backed off and started to close the door. "No, wait! I'm not mad. I just don't get it."

She didn't close the door all the way and peered out through the crack. I stood on the bottom stair, not moving any higher for fear she'd slam the door and be gone for good.

"I'm Cooper Foley. My grandfather is the guy who lives next door. I mean, who used to live next door. Or…
I don't know what I mean. What's your name?"

The girl looked like a frightened kitten with big brown eyes that watched my every move, waiting for me to do something that would prompt her to slam the door.

"I'm pretty confused," I said. "My gramps says you've been around for a while, so you must know how things work here. Right?"

She gave me a slight shrug.

"Okay, cool, I'll take that as a yes. Maybe you can tell
me why things look different. I mean, you saw me with Gramps, right?"

She nodded.

"So what happened? I mean, all the leaves were on the trees and now it's, like, almost winter. And my grandfather's house is a different color. That's…
weird. Or maybe I'm the weird one. What do you think? Am I weird? I
feel
weird."

The girl smiled. I saw it. It wasn't a big smile but it was there. I was getting through to her.

"I wish you'd come out," I said. "I'm not going to hurt you."

She pushed the screen door open tentatively and I backed away so as not to intimidate her. She stepped outside but kept her back against the wall, ready to jump inside at the first hint of danger.

I'm guessing she was around my age. Her hair was dark and cut very short. The flowered dress went below her knees and she wore gray socks and brown shoes that looked like something a guy would wear…
a guy from another time. She had on an old blue sweater that was open in front and at least two sizes too big for her. Seeing her up close like this, wearing such old-fashioned clothes, made me understand what was happening.

"Wait, you didn't live here when my grandfather did. In the Light, I mean."

She didn't react.

"I'm guessing you lived here a long time before that. Is this what the place looked like when you were alive? I mean, is this your vision in the Black?"

She nodded.

"Yeah!" I exclaimed, and punched the air in victory. The girl frowned and inched away from me.

"Sorry, sorry. Didn't mean to go off like that. I'm totally normal. Usually."

She stopped moving, though she looked ready to bolt at the next sign of lunacy.

"I'm scaring you and I don't mean to," I said. "I'm just as scared as you are. No, I take that back, you look pretty scared. I hope it's not about me because I'm not a scary guy. At least I don't think I am."

She gave me another small smile. That was progress. "Can you talk?" I asked. "I mean, are you able to speak? I'd love to know your name."

I was afraid that she was actually mute and our whole conversation would have to be about yes and no.

Finally, in a voice that was so soft I could barely hear it above the wind, she whispered, "Maggie."

"Maggie!" I exclaimed, making her jump again. Bad move. "Whoa, sorry. Maggie. Great name. Good to meet you. Sort of. This isn't the kind of place that it's good to meet anybody, right? I mean, we'd all just as soon not be here."

I was talking too fast. She looked confused.

"Sorry, my mouth's outpacing my brain. So…
who are you? If you lived in the Light a long time before my gramps, then you've been here in the Black for a while. Why is it taking you so long to move on?"

She scowled and ran back into the house.

"No, wait!"

Too late. I had just asked her the all-time worst question possible. You don't meet somebody and immediately ask about what's wrong with them. Idiot.

"Maggie! Wait, I'm sorry! I'm a dope. Really. Everybody thinks so. I won't ask you any more stupid questions. I promise."

She peeked back out the door with those big, frightened eyes. It looked like she was on the verge of tears and I felt horrible about it. She looked so vulnerable and, yes, I'll say it, pretty.

"I'm sorry. This is all new to me. I'm very confused and I was hoping you could help me out a little. Can I come up and sit on the porch?"

She hesitated a second, then nodded.

"Great. Thanks."

There was an old wicker couch like Gramps' near the door. I climbed the stairs onto the porch and walked to the far end, where I sat down, trying to look as nonthreatening as possible.

The screen door squeaked open slowly and Maggie poked her head out.

"I won't move," I said, crossing my heart with my finger. "Promise."

She slipped out the door and slid down onto the far end of the couch, crushing her folded hands between her knees. The girl was fragile, but she wasn't weak. I knew that much from what she had done for me.

"I'd like to know why you pulled me out of that fight," I said. "Has Damon been bothering you too?"

She shook her head.

"Do you know Damon?"

She shook her head again. This seemed strange, but maybe not. From what I knew of the Black, billions of spirits passed through. There was no way that everybody could know everybody.

"But you pulled me out of that fight," I said. "How come?" She glanced over to my grandfather's house. That was the connection.

"So after I saw you before, when I was with Gramps, you started to watch me?" I asked.

She shrugged and I saw her face flush red with embarrassment. It was as simple as that. She saw me and was curious. It wasn't the first time that had happened to me with a girl. Just
sayin'.

"Well, thank you," I said.

She smiled. She had a sweet smile.

"But I could have taken that weasel," I added.

She frowned. She didn't agree and that was okay. The important thing was that I had made a friend, or at least I thought I had. As long as I didn't say the wrong thing and send her running off like a scared rabbit again, we'd be cool.

"I'm only beginning to learn about how things work in the Black," I said. "But I'm already in Trouble Town. That guy? Damon? He's not like the rest of the spirits here. At least that's what he tells me. He threatened to hurt my best friend who's still living in the Light."

Maggie looked at me and her expression turned dark.

I paused, debating about whether or not to keep going. I took the chance and said, "He'd do it, too. I'm here because Damon killed me."

Maggie winced, like the news physically hurt her.

"He went into the Light and somehow manipulated things that led to my getting killed. Nice guy, huh?"

"Why?" Maggie asked.

"Because he wants me to help him find something that belonged to him in life. Something called a poleax. It's still in the Light and he wants my friend Marsh and me to get it for him."

"Why does he want this…
poleax?"

I laughed. I couldn't help it.

"Why is that funny?" she asked, hurt.

"It isn't. I'm just glad you're talking."

She blushed.

I continued, "He says he's stuck here in the Black and that weapon will somehow help him get out. Does that make sense to you?"

Maggie shook her head.

"Great," I said with frustration. "If you don't know how things work around here, then I don't stand a chance."

"So you don't want to help Damon?" she asked.

"No!" I shouted, a bit too loud, because it made her jump. "The guy killed me! I'd rather wring his neck. But what can I do? I don't want him hurting Marsh."

"Then you
will
help him?"

"I don't know," I said with exasperation. "I don't know anything. What I'd like to do is warn Marsh that he's in trouble, but I can't even do that."

She looked to the ground, lost in thought. I saw her lips twitch, like a nervous tick. This was a troubled girl and I wasn't making things any easier for her.

"Maybe you can," she finally said.

I sat bolt upright.

"Seriously? How? Damon said he was the only one who knew how to influence things in the Light."

"Some are better than others," she said. "But we all have the gift."

My heart starting beating faster. "You're saying I can talk to Marsh? I can warn him about Damon?"

"Maybe," was her maddening answer.

"Have you ever done it? I mean, communicate with people in the Light?"

Maggie scowled, as if she wasn't sure if she should answer. "Have you?" I asked again.

She nodded, reluctantly.

"That's great! Will you help me warn Marsh? Whoa, wait. We're talking about voices from beyond the grave. That'll freak him out."

"It won't be a voice," she said. "He may only sense a presence."

"No," I countered. "It's possible to do more than that. Damon whispered in his ear and Marsh heard it."

"Then Damon is as different as he says. I can't do that kind of thing."

"What
can
you do?"

Maggie looked me square in the eye and for the first time I sensed that there was more to her than a meek, frightened girl. I couldn't imagine what had been so wrong about her life that she had been kept in the Black for so long. I wanted to know all about her, but I had to take care of Marsh first.

She answered, "He can be made to understand that he isn't alone."

"0-kay," I said, skeptically. "I guess that's a start. Would you do it for me?"

Maggie took a deep breath and gave me a small smile. "I'll try."

"Awesome. Thank you. How does it work? What do we do?"

She stood up and turned her back to me. "Think of your friend," she said over her shoulder.

I closed my eyes and pictured Marsh. I saw his blond hair and brown eyes. In my head he wore a hoodie sweatshirt and jeans. He was building a model rocket at his kitchen table. His cat, Winston, was on the table next to him, watching.

"Got him," I said. "Now what?"

I opened my eyes to see that in front of Maggie, the colorful fog had appeared.

She turned back to me and winked. "Now we pay him a visit."

I liked Maggie.

She took a step into the fog…
and disappeared. I leaped after her, jumped into the swirl of color, and landed in Marsh's bedroom.

Maggie was already there, standing at the foot of his bed, looking down on a sleeping Marsh. It was daytime.

Sunlight streamed in through his bedroom window. When I had been in the Light with Damon it was night. How long ago was that? A few minutes? A couple of hours? A hundred years? I kept hearing that time had no meaning in the Black, and that looked to be true, at least in how it corresponded with the Light. Passage of time in the two dimensions wasn't necessarily relative.

"It's going to take a while to get used to this," I said, stunned.

"Is that him?"

"That's the guy," I said. "Yo! Ralph. Rise and shine!" He didn't move.

Maggie rounded the bed and knelt down next to Marsh's head. She looked at my sleeping friend with a sad smile. Did she feel sorry for him? Did she think he was vulnerable and cute? Did she miss being in the Light?

Seeing Marsh gave me mixed feelings. It was good to see my friend, but the last time we were together we'd had a blowout fight that was mostly my fault. I'll always regret that because I'll never get the chance to tell him how sorry I was. More than that, I didn't want to be dead. I wanted my old life back. I had to force those thoughts away. Why sweat over something that could never be?

Maggie barely moved. She kept looking at Marsh, concentrating. After a few seconds she closed her eyes and started breathing deeper. It seemed like she was going into some kind of trance.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

My answer came in the form of rippling color. All around her the air began to move and shimmer. It wasn't dramatic like when we moved from place to place. It was barely perceptible but it was there and Maggie was causing it. The aberration, or whatever it was, grew around her until it enveloped Marsh too. Finally, Maggie leaned down,
pursed her lips, and without opening her eyes she gently blew air at Marsh's face.

Marsh's hair moved.

It was subtle, but it moved, and it woke him up. He smiled as if he was having a great dream as he brushed the hair out of his eyes.

"You did it!" I exclaimed.