Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
KENNEDY
When my mind finally wakes, I’m no longer in my physical body. Panic seizes me at the thought of drifting through the void again, but then I remember the seance.
I’m tethered to the house, I tell myself. If I get lost, I can always come back.
I close my eyes and focus, picturing a buoy in the middle of the ocean.
In my head, it turns into a blue door, and instead of being surrounded by water, it’s surrounded by trees.
I reach out for the handle, and with that simple touch, I feel the room take shape around me.
This time, however, I can’t feel the floorboards beneath my feet.
I remember falling asleep in Theodore’s bed, but I no longer feel the soft sheets sliding against my skin.
I peer through squinted lids, cautious of what I might find, but I’m relieved to see I’m still in Theodore’s bedroom. I’m no longer corporeal, but that doesn’t bother me as much as it would have a day ago. I’m just happy to have some semblance of control over things now.
I shift and glide through the bed, my waist and legs disintegrating like fog then reassembling into their autonomically correct place.
Watching what was once organs and bones take on the appearance of smoke is severely disorienting.
My head spins and the room slides sideways, but I pull myself together.
It hits me as I hover over the antique area rug that I have no idea what to do now.
Tethering myself was the immediate goal, but now that I’ve achieved it, I’m not sure what my next steps should be.
I imagine time unfurling before me like an infinite scroll, and I almost feel sick again.
What does one do with unlimited time? Am I really meant to live here for the rest of eternity?
The house groans as the early morning sun breaks through the curtains.
It’s no longer snowing, but a fresh layer of sparkly powder covers the ground from the night before.
Without my body, I’m saved from feeling the chill of the drafty halls, but the vibe is the same.
Nothing about this place feels welcoming, and a sense of dread washes over me at spending any more time here.
Today, I’ll further test my boundaries and see just how far I can go on the property. I debate whether or not to tell Theodore, but he said I don’t need his permission. Floating to the bedroom window, I focus on willing my hands to materialize, but a thought occurs to me.
What if I can move through walls like I just moved through the bed?
I reach out, but instead of wishing to touch the glass, I will myself to push through it.
I squeeze my eyes shut as my fingers inch closer.
When I open them, my hand is on the other side.
I squeal with excitement and flex my wrist. Then I push further until I’m up to my elbow in the windowpane.
I step back, take a deep breath, and rush toward the wall.
It feels like swimming underwater as I break past the barrier of the house and emerge outside.
Turning around, I inspect the glass to make sure I haven’t actually broken it, but it’s still perfectly intact.
“Trippy,” I mutter to myself.
Then I realize how far I am from the ground. Fear floods my nervous system. I’m about to freak out, but at the same time, my brain alerts me to something cooler.
I can fly!
Without overthinking it, I burst forward, imagining a jet pack strapped to my back, and I’m off!
Barren branches heavy with snow rush by below me in a blur as I head east in the direction of the sun.
I feel pure elation and a new sense of freedom as I soar over the forest. Within a small clearing below are tiny houses and trailers.
A handful of people appear here and there, going about their morning, and from the line of trees, wolves wander toward the village. This must be the werewolf camp.
I make a loop around the clearing, whooping out loud as I head back the way I came. This takes me toward town, and I realize I'm way past the boundary of the property. Tethering myself to the house doesn’t seem to have restricted me in any way.
Looking down on the town of Shadow Hills gives the feel of a Christmas village, like the one I remember being displayed on the sill of my best friend’s kitchen window during the holidays.
It’s early enough that the streetlights haven’t gone out yet, and there’s a gray hue cast across the buildings.
Colorful lights line the windows of each business illuminating signs like NOW SERVING SNOW CREAM LATTES and 40% OFF SCENTED PINE-CONES.
Observing the town like this is comforting, given that I haven’t officially introduced myself to anyone besides the witches and the sisters at the cafe.
From up here, it looks welcoming, cozy, both things I haven’t felt in a long time.
My spirit may have summoned me here to ride out the afterlife, but I hardly know it well enough to call it home.
Yet, neither did the city when I was alive.
There’s something still a bit out of reach when it comes to my connection to Shadow Hills, just like with my family.
My sister and I loved seeing Main Street decorated with wreaths and velvet bows hanging from every street lamp when we were little.
Looking down at it now, I can’t help wondering where she is.
I’d been away from home for ten years before I died, and I didn’t do a very good job of keeping in touch.
What if she doesn’t feel that same joy anymore at the sight of Christmas lights?
That joy I remember from childhood may have vanished completely in my absence.
I realize I know nothing about who she grew up to be.
Could she have grown in a direction that doesn’t feel the same warmth that we used to feel together?
Two figures making their way up the street catch my attention.
In the distance, I see a short, dark-haired woman buried in a bright red jacket with matching gloves and earmuffs.
Beside her, a gentleman in a gray beanie and brown utility coat is digging through a leather bag.
He retrieves a tiny tube of what looks like lip balm and hands it over.
Once they’re close enough, I recognize Raegan as the one coating her lips.
I vaguely remember seeing the man present at my seance.
She thanks him and drops the lip balm back into the bag.
He holds onto it, carrying it for her all the way to their destination.
They stop in front of the bookstore and Raegan pulls out a pair of keys.
They jangle as she finds the correct one to fit the lock before pushing the door open with a grunt.
I watch as the man follows her inside. A few minutes later, he exits the bookstore, bagless, and heads back down the sidewalk to another building, a sign reading DOUBLE DOUBLE swaying above it.
He pulls his own set of keys out of his pocket and then heads inside.
Neither of them noticed me hovering next to the nearest lamp post. Part of me is relieved, but another much smaller part wishes they had looked up.
I haven’t spoken to anyone but Theodore in twenty-four hours, and I miss the stimulation I got from a full house of strangers.
It may have felt invasive at first, having so many sets of eyes watching me appear from the ether, but that feeling was better than the silence.
I don’t want to pester Theodore all hours of the day, so I’ll just have to pester someone else instead.
The bookstore is warmly lit from within with golden lamp light.
Peering through the window, I see Raegan’s bag sitting by the register, but she’s nowhere to be seen.
Assuming she’s in an office or stockroom, I take advantage and slip through the closed door.
It looks warm and cozy here compared to outside, but it still doesn’t affect my spirit-body.
I will myself to walk through the aisles instead of floating, and with that simple thought, my legs appear, just as wispy and transparent as the rest of me.
I don’t feel the floor under my shoes, but the sensation of walking is still there. As long as I let my intuition be my guide, controlling how I appear might eventually become as easy as breathing, only I don’t do that anymore.
I let myself chuckle at my own joke.
The shelves of Bound and Buried are filled with every genre one could imagine.
I skim through the mystery section, admiring all the tiny mass market paperback editions of cozy Christmas whodunnits.
They all seem to feature a cat on the cover in some shape or form, and just looking at them evokes a sense of comfort.
I spy horror novels with chilling depictions of reaching hands and titles written in gothic script, general fiction ranging from quirky Chick Lit to emotionally heavy hitters, and on the back wall, a massive selection of romance.
I’ve never been much of a reader. In school, the pressure to finish a book just so I could be tested on it later was too daunting.
I learned later that I struggled with reading comprehension, so one of my teachers suggested I read that really popular wizard book that all the kids were into, and it actually helped.
It was the first time I cared about a story—the first time I wanted to turn the page and find out what happened next.
But even that feeling wasn’t enough to hold my interest as I got older.
Peer pressure and the stress of fitting in overshadowed any personal interests.
Instinctively, I reach for one of the romances with a cute cover, but my hand goes right through it. Focusing hard, I try to imagine just my hand becoming corporeal, and before my own eyes, my hand turns solid.
“Yes!” I grab the book, holding my concentration, and my stare, on my hand. This is easy!
“Hello?” Suddenly Raegan appears from the back brandishing a baseball bat. “Who’s in here?” She demands, her face not at all fearsome.
I lose my concentration and my hand goes back to being useless, the book I was holding smacking loudly against the floor. I hold my hands up in surrender. “It’s me, Kennedy.”
Raegan peers around one of the bookshelves and finds me standing in the romance section. “Kennedy?” She lowers the bat, but her eyes remain wide. “How did you get here?”
I ball my hands and press them to my chest as I shrug with embarrassment. “I flew. Floated?”
She draws back, mouth agape. “What? Really?”
I nod.
“That’s…so cool! I’ve never seen the mayor fly.”
I’m momentarily taken aback. “Wait, is the mayor still the same ghost from when I was a kid?”
Raegan smiles. “Yeah, Mayor Musthaven. He’s been the mayor for like…” Her face scrunches as she tries to recall an exact number. “Since the town was founded, I’m pretty sure.”
It suddenly dawns on me that I have another resource besides Theodore, one I now plan to utilize. I hadn’t even thought about there being other ghosts in Shadow Hills.
Without thinking, my eagerness taking the driver's seat, I rush to the front door. “Sorry I barged in,” I apologize. “I’ll just go.”
I take long strides back down the aisle, but Raegan’s voice stops me. “Wait! I don’t mind the visit,” she says. “You can pop by anytime.” She purses her lips, looking at the discarded book on the floor. “Were you looking for something?”
I know she’s inadvertently asking if I’m alright, so I shake my head. “Nope. I’m just exploring. Testing my boundaries.”
Her face brightens. “I’m glad. Let me know if you do need anything, alright? Even if it’s just a book recommendation.”
“Yep. Thanks!” I rush past her and toward the door, but Raegan speaks again.
“Hey.” Her tone shifts. “From what I know about Theodore, he’s been in that house for a long time. He could really use a friend.”
I nod once, not sure what else to say.
Then I’m out the door and drifting down the street.
I have a mayor to see.