Linda Singleton - Dead Girl Dancing

“Amber?” I grabbed hold of a dresser so I didn’t fall over from shock. “You know my name?”

“Hel-lo?” She rolled her glamorous eyes. “Haven’t you been listening to anything I’ve said? Why else would I come here at this gawd-awful time with your delivery? All right, so I should have been here right after your switch, I suppose I should apologize, but getting anywhere in this high-maintenance body isn’t easy.”

“Body? You mean … you’re a Temp Lifer like me?”

“A Temp Lifer — yes. But an untrained novice like you? No. I have a hundred and forty-three years of experience and I had the wisdom not to volunteer until after I’d been dead a few decades. I don’t approve of using Earthbounders as TLs, but no one asked for my opinion and it doesn’t happen often anyway, usually only when someone pulls harp strings up there.” She pointed upward with a disapproving sniff. “But I suppose nepotism is everywhere.”

“I didn’t ask for this job!” I snapped. “It’s horrible not being myself and being trapped in someone else’s body — especially this one! I just want to go home and be myself again.”

“So why’d you volunteer?”

“It was an accident. I didn’t know what I was promising when I told my grandmother I’d help out. And I certainly didn’t think she’d switch me right away — but everything happened so fast. I had no idea she’d do this to me without a warning, or at least some instructions. This is the worst thing to happen in my whole life — and considering I was hit by a truck and nearly died last week, that’s saying a lot. I just want to go back to my own body. This is so unfair.”

“How about getting over yourself?” She tucked her luxurious locks back under the cap. “And while you’re doing that, sign this form so I can get out of here.”

“Didn’t you hear anything I said? I don’t want to be a Temp Lifer.”

“There’s no quitting on the other side,” she said with a small shrug. “You want out? Complete your assignment — which means signing this paper.”

“I refuse to sign anything without reading it first.”

“So read it — but be quick.”

I squinted at the small print and legalese. “Um … should I get a lawyer? This is hard to understand. For all I know I’m signing away my soul.”

“Trust me — you’d know if you were,” she said ominously. “Soul signing is serious business and only binding when using blood ink.”

“Blood ink? Gross. I am so not cut out for this job.” I groaned. “Can you get a message to my grandmother and ask her to replace me with someone more experienced? I don’t have any idea what to do. I know whose body I’m in, but I don’t know what her problem is and or how to solve it.”

“You’re such a newbie. The TL job is to replace, not rescue. We give our Host Soul a rest so they can come back refreshed enough to solve their own problems. But you wouldn’t know that, since this is only your first experience in a different body.”

Her condescending tone made me bristle. “Actually, it’s my second.” I didn’t add that the first time had been a cosmic accident caused by my pathetic sense of direction and I hadn’t known what to do then, either.

“Seriously?” She arched a skeptic brow. “You’ve done this before?”

“I … um … helped a girl at school who tried to commit suicide.”

“They trusted a suicide to a novice? What are the other worlds coming to? Oh well, not my problem. Would you sign already?” She snapped her fingers and suddenly a feather-tipped pen appeared in her hand. She shoved it at me. “Once you read and sign the release form, I’ll give you your Guidance Evaluation Manual — or GEM as we call them — which will tell you everything you need to know. Then I’m so out of here. I can only hope my next assignment is somewhere far from Hollywood and more peaceful — like a war zone.”

Holding the pen between my fingers, I read the small print.

As the undersigned Temporary Lifer, I agree to abide by all existing and future rules incorporated in the Guidance Evaluation Manual and agree herewith to offer no allegations against the High Power and all its agencies … blah, blah, blah.

My grandmother must know a lot of lawyers on the other side, I thought as I skipped down to the part of the page where I signed my life away — an act I hoped wasn’t a bad pun.

“Great.” The diva snatched the paper and folded it over and over until it was so small that it vanished in her hand. A snap of her fingers and a book appeared, if you could call something no bigger than a Hershey’s bar a book. She shoved it at me. “Study this GEM and do not — I mean do not under any circumstances —break the rules.”

I nodded, a little uneasy but mostly curious as I palmed the tiny book. When I glanced back up, eager to ask about Grammy, Sharayah, and the many other questions troubling me, the diva was gone.

For a bewildered moment I just stood there, reeling with disappointment. Then, with a sigh, I went over to Sharayah’s desk to study the little book. The gold cover was blank except for three glittery letters: G-E-M. And when I flipped through the pages, they were all blank. But as I stared, a spot of black, like the tip of a pen, swirled at the center of a page, then curled into wavy lines to create a letter— A . Fascinated, I watched four more letters spell out A - M - B - E - R .

Talk about personalizing a book! Now the letters came faster, spilling like a vein of ink had been opened, pouring words onto the page to compose a short letter to me.

Amber,

Your role as a Temp Lifer is vital to your Host Soul as well as a beacon of redemption for all negativity and mistakes along your personal life path. Earthbounders require care and upkeep when they are in trauma mode. During the soul replacement, you will assume the Host Soul’s life with no interruptions. Your signature has been noted in the Hall of Records as your binding promise to abide by all regulations and obligations of this sacred mission. Adhere to each of the Nine Divine Rules; breaking any Rule could result in serious consequences.

The ink paused, and the page fluttered to a new page that was no longer empty. It included a single line: Nine Divine Rules.

The page flipped again to show the first rule.

#1. Follow through on your Host Body’s obligations and plans.

It would help to know Sharayah’s plans, I thought as the page flipped quickly to the next rule.

#2. Under no circumstances should you ever reveal your true identity.

Oops, blew that one already by telling Eli, I thought, with a glance at the broken phone. Less than an hour as a Temp Lifer and I’d already broken a rule. I hoped Grammy wouldn’t be mad.

The pages flipped faster now. I had to read quickly so I wouldn’t miss important information.

#3. Consult this manual with pertinent questions.

#4. Resist temptation; guide your Host to positive choices.

#5. If you become aware of Dark Lifers, retreat and report.

#6. Do not commit acts against your Host’s moral code.

#7. Respect your Host Body; no tattoos, hair dye, or piercings.

#8. Your time in a Host Body cannot exceed a full moon cycle.

#9. Guard your Host Body well. If your Body dies, so will you.

I reread the ninth rule a few times, my stomach knotting. Why make a rule like that unless it had actually happened? Had an unfortunate Temp Lifer died on the job and lost their real body as a penalty? Talk about on-the-job hazards! Taking over someone else’s life was way too dangerous. I wished I’d never made that stupid promise to Grammy. Did she know I’d already broken the second rule? Not that it was my fault, because I hadn’t even known about the rules when I’d called Eli. And to be honest, I didn’t regret breaking that rule. Even if I’d known it was forbidden, I probably would have called Eli. He deserved to know about his sister.