Amelia Atwater-Rhodes - Token of Darkness

“Oh.” The hostile energy faded, replaced by an embarrassed-looking expression. “Sorry. I get a lot of grief from people who think only stupid people go to the vo-tech school.”

“I wanted to go there, actually,” Cooper admitted. “My parents said no.”

“My mother doesn’t really care where I go.” The other boy shrugged. “I’m Brent, by the way.”

“Cooper.”

“You look familiar. Football team, right?”

“Last couple years, yeah,” Cooper admitted. But not this year.

“That explains it,” Brent said. “I went to a few games last season. You’re the fast little guy.”

Cooper couldn’t help chuckling, since that was the exact description Coach used for him. At two inches shy of six feet tall, he had still been one of the lighter guys on the team. It was all right that he didn’t have a lot of weight to throw around, though, since he had good hands and quick feet. Or, he used to.

“Get hurt in practice?” Brent asked.

Cooper cringed. He had gotten so used to carefully shifting his weight when he had to kneel or sit, relying on his good knee and hip, he hadn’t given it any thought when he had slowly eased onto the floor next to Brent.

He just shook his head, and changed the subject. “So … anything good in here? I’m looking for stuff on ghosts.”

Brent paused before asking, “What kind of ‘stuff’? Haunted places? Poltergeists? Séances?”

“I’m kind of writing a book,” Cooper lied. “This guy’s being haunted and trying to figure out who the ghost is and how to help her. I thought I’d do some research.”

“Uh-huh.” The invented plotline apparently didn’t impress Brent much. At least, that’s what Cooper thought until Brent added, “You’re a piss-poor liar. I don’t even know you and I know you just made that up. I hope you were a little quicker with the librarian or she’s probably called the truant officer already.”

“You think?” Cooper sat up, worried.

“Nah. Elise is cool,” Brent answered. “If she caught you at a movie or smoking somewhere she would call you on it in a heartbeat, but you’re in a library. She doesn’t care if you’re supposed to be in class.”

“Good to know.” Amused, Cooper asked, “You’re on a first-name basis with the librarian? Do you work here?”

“Work? No. Well, I volunteer sometimes. I practically live here when I’m not at school. I like the quiet.” Brent looked at the pile of books around him, as if he was trying to decide which to pick up next.

“A little light reading?” Cooper asked, wondering why anyone would be doing such dedicated research before the school semester began. He wondered if he should insist he had been telling the truth about the book he was writing, or if he could come up with a better excuse.

“Light by my standards,” Brent said, laughing a little. “I don’t think I believe in ghosts, but figured it might be interesting to research the phenomenon. But anyway. Your ghost. More of a specter, or a poltergeist?”

“You just said—”

“Yeah, I don’t believe for a minute you’re writing a book,” Brent interrupted. “And if you were looking up how to make arsenic or something I’d worry. But ghosts? It’s an interesting topic for discussion, but not likely to get anyone in trouble. Now, let’s start basic. Is your ghost location-bound or person-bound? Oh, or object-bound? They’re all different.”

“Person-bound, I guess,” Cooper answered. Brent seemed like he could be helpful, and he wasn’t likely to talk to anyone Cooper knew, so it didn’t really matter why he was helping or what he thought Cooper needed the information for. “She goes wherever she wants, but this one guy is the only one who can see her.” He debated adding something about the shadows, but his gut seemed to twist when he even thought of them.

Brent didn’t notice his hesitation. “Oh!” he exclaimed, seeming more excited now. “Then your person might be the thing to focus on, not your ghost. Maybe he’s psychic. Does he see ghosts a lot?”

Cooper shook his head. “No, this is the only ghost.”

“Hmm.” Brent paused, looking at the books around him. “Well, there are a lot of stories about people who did something—a séance, or violated a graveyard, et cetera—and got haunted for that. Is your ghost angry?”

“No, just color-challenged,” Cooper mumbled, recalling Samantha’s outfits.

“What?”

“Never mind. No, she isn’t angry, but she’s frustrated that she doesn’t have a body.”

“So she knows she’s dead?”

Cooper nodded. “Oh yeah, she knows. She’s annoyed about it.”

“Young or old? Unfinished business? Maybe a tragic death, murdered and dumped somewhere, and no one’s found her body and she desperately wants to make sure she gets a proper burial. That’s a little cliché, though. Maybe she was the murderer or she kidnapped someone, only then she died, and her victim is trapped somewhere and she can’t rest until the victim dies—or is rescued. That would be a cool story.”

“Do you write?” Cooper asked.

“Nah, I’m not creative,” Brent replied, straight-faced. “But your ghost—”

“Doesn’t remember who she is or how she died,” Cooper said, before Brent could come up with another dozen scenarios. “But I think she’s young, our age, and from around here.”

“Huh.” Brent paused again. “Amnesiac ghost. Trauma can bring on amnesia, and death has to be pretty damn traumatic. I wonder if a ghost could get psychotherapy? Or hypnotized?”

“Let’s not go that route,” Cooper said, trying to derail what looked like it was about to lead into another list of possible plotlines.

“Well … I’d check obituaries,” Brent said. “You need to figure out who she is and why she might be hanging around.”

“And if she’s not in there?”

“Check missing persons. There are lots of places online that have officially listed missing people, especially if she’s a kid. Or if you’re really brave, you—I mean, your character, of course—can go to the police station and say something like ‘I saw this girl the other day, and she looked a lot like someone I think I saw on a missing-person flyer in Boston,’ and see if they recognize the description.”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

“Well … psychics, I guess, would be your next stop,” Brent said. “A real psychic would be able to tell if your character is psychic himself, or if your ‘ghost’ is really a ghost. She could be something else.”

“Like what?”

“Anything. It’s your supposed book,” Brent said. “Maybe she’s an alien, existing on a slightly different plane of existence from us, and the passage to Earth was so traumatic she lost her memory of it and thinks she’s human since she’s surrounded by them. Or maybe she’s a fallen angel, and all her memories of Heaven were taken as punishment for her transgressions. Or maybe she’s actually some kind of demonic figure, sent to torment your protagonist, and she’s lying about not remembering who she is.”

“Um … I think she’s just a regular ghost,” Cooper said. “Though those are interesting ideas,” he added, mostly to be polite.

“You’ve pretty much admitted you don’t know a thing about ghosts, so how can you be sure she’s just the ‘regular’ kind?” Brent challenged. “She doesn’t sound like a regular kind to me, not if your character can see her and talk to her and she isn’t angry or anything. Maybe you should stick to writing football stories.”

Cooper decided not to be offended, if only because Brent had said the words with a quirked smile, the jibe meant in good humor.

“There’s nothing in here about ghosts like that?” Cooper asked, waving to all the books around him.