Chapter 20
Twenty
Kai
Athick layer of fluffy snow covers the pine trees surrounding me beneath the night sky. I have the most perfect view of the snowcapped mountains, and for the first time in over a month, I find the air crisp and refreshing.
After zapping myself back into this realm, I immediately ventured to my parents’ house. Anticlimactic, I know.
It’s chilly outside, and considering I’m wearing joggers and a T-shirt, I need to change fast to blend in.
I know what’s on your mind: Kai, why do you need to blend in? No one can see you.
And that’s where you’re wrong, my friend.
It’s downright impossible to predict when I might run into an angel down here. Other angels, like Guardians, can see me. In an effort to stand out less, I want to dress the part.
I don’t technically need to change clothes while down here. I don’t grow cold like living human beings do. I don’t sweat. I don’t tire often. Because I won’t need to change clothes after this, I want to choose something nice and comfortable.
As I rummage through some of my old clothes before deciding I’ve outgrown a majority of these items, I let out a sigh.
Glancing around my room, my eyes land on some cardboard boxes from my old apartment that they kept after my passing.
These boxes contain memorabilia, random decor, old movies, some tools, and, of course, clothes.
I find it sweet that my parents chose to keep all this—some of it is objectively junk.
Grief works differently for everyone, though.
If this is what they need to do to heal, I support it.
After digging through a few pieces of clothing, I find the perfect winter fit: a white cashmere sweater and a pair of jeans, complete with a light brown coat.
I change into the clothes, packing my previous set of clothes into the box. I’m curious if my parents will ever sort through this box and notice the new clothing items. I grin just thinking about it.
It may be a problem, but I love meddling. In fact, the last time I visited, I pulled a prank on Jasper involving a bottle of beer, but that’s a secret I’ll never tell—even one day when he meets me in death. Imagining the look on his face when he noticed my little trick makes me grin even harder.
While putting the boxes away, I gaze around my old room and focus on some of the pictures my mom put on display after my death.
It looks like she hung up some photos of me with my baseball team, Iris and me, and even one of my college graduation.
I run my fingers across my old wooden desk’s surface.
Not even a hint of dust. I wonder how often they visit this room.
My dad was always a bit more standoffish—not the emotional type.
I doubt he visits here frequently. But my mom and I were close at one point.
We certainly didn’t always see eye to eye, and I found the way she treated Iris to be entirely unacceptable, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care for my parents. I miss them occasionally.
Gulping, I take one last glance around my old room, then I abruptly teleport to Chrysocolla Cove.
I enter the quaint home just outside of downtown quietly.
I take note of several unpacked boxes lining the walls of the living room, the smell of lavender and vanilla, and some of Truman’s toys scattered in the hallway.
Odd. What have my two most favorite people in the world been up to in my absence this time? I walk farther into the home and notice the TV is on, then glance at the couch, taking in the sight.
She’s lying on top of him, her head full of dark brown waves resting against his chest, slowly rising and falling in rhythm with his breathing. His arms are wrapped around her securely, protecting her even in his sleep.
Ugh. How wholesome is this? This sight alone may be enough to turn my frown upside down permanently.
Upon closer inspection, I see goosebumps lining her arms and realize they need a blanket as soon as possible. Once a Guardian, always a Guardian. I grab the throw from atop the couch and drape it over them as gently as possible.
There. Much better.
Suddenly, a small orange figure brushes against my leg, purring. I eye Truman and bend down to scratch his chin. I’ve missed him, too.
Seeing them together in their own home fills me with warmth. This is all I ever wanted for my little sister.
Thanks to Jasper, I don’t have to wonder if she’s okay. I know she is.
I glance at them one last time before teleporting to my next destination—the last thing I want to do is disturb the peace they’ve worked so hard to obtain.
While sitting in the stands of the high school baseball field, I decide I need to make a plan. I can’t keep teleporting to and fro wherever the wind takes me, especially not after the sun comes up. Can you imagine what would happen if Jasper happened to see me here? Talk about a setback.
Where should I go next? Obviously, I could go back to the Middle Realm, but where’s the fun in that? In all seriousness, I don’t know if I’m ready to go back up there. I just need a little more time away.
I’ve missed this realm.
Something about the Middle Realm makes me feel stuck. That feeling isn’t for me.
The last time I felt that hopeless was when I was contemplating whether I should tie the knot with my ex or break up with her. After months of thinking, I chose to say goodbye because I didn’t want to be stuck in a marriage.
I watched my parents throughout their own marriage, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to notice just how stuck they were. Iris was always the one who planned out her dream wedding—not me. I would’ve been content to spend life alone.
Then Katherine entered my world, and that initial desire to be alone wavered.
However, just before my life ended, I came back to my senses and let go of those thoughts.
I knew going through what my parents did wouldn't worth it. My parents seemed compatible on paper. If they couldn’t make it work, how would I ever make it work with someone?
Then, like an angel sent from above, Cleo happened.
And I have no idea what to do about it. About her.
Her lips are even softer than I imagined they’d be.
Her touch is softer, too.
When she tangled her hands into my hair and rode me into oblivion earlier, I lost my mind. True euphoria like I’d never known entered my system, and we were only dry humping for heaven’s sake.
When I leaned in to kiss her, I fully expected to be outrightly rejected. Pitiful, I know, but at the time, nothing mattered more than knowing what her lips tasted like. I never imagined she’d press her lips against mine like that.
The lines we drew prior to that moment couldn’t mean less to me now.
I need time to figure out my feelings. It’s interesting—before death, I loved solving problems. This passion proved especially helpful when working on cars.
I worked on all sorts of vehicles—everything from carburetors to fuel-injected, including some hybrids thrown into the mix.
Several buddies of mine would call me up when their cars broke down, and we’d fix them together.
I kind of have a knack for figuring out those types of things.
When life got too heavy, I’d work on my project car. It was a solid distraction.
My point is, I don’t usually have a hard time figuring people out, either, but this particular individual is something else.
Hell, my old students would probably laugh their asses off at how many home runs this girl has scored on my watch.
So, I can’t face her yet—I’ve got to get a grip on my emotions before I do something I regret.
I’ll stay down here for a bit longer to get my shit together, then I’ll teleport back up there in a jiffy.
They won’t even notice I’m gone. Last time I snuck down here, the Archangels didn’t seem to bat an eye.
Cleo will be okay up there for the day or so I’m gone.
I set my mind on the only place I can think of where a person, especially an angel, could hide in plain sight without being noticed.
I’ve been down here for not even a full day, and although I’m convinced I haven’t even ventured through half of this enormous city quite yet, I can confidently say this is my favorite spot I’ve explored.
People all around me are walking their dogs.
Some are doing their morning jogs, others are doing yoga.
From where I’m sitting, I have a fantastic view of an ice-skating rink—only a couple of people are taking advantage of the ice at the moment, which isn’t surprising given how early it is in the day. Central Park is massive.
I’ll admit, I've exercised soulsight a handful of times while down here. It’s been a while since I exercised it—most of the angels up there have strong mental shields in place to keep others out. Cleo’s mind blocks are robust—the strongest I’ve ever encountered.
Last night, I visited an antique shop downtown just to make me feel something.
The shop was swarming with people but lacked Aged Emporium’s charm.
I grew fond of Jasper’s family business in the Cove.
It’s hard to find something that compares.
This shop wasn’t so bad, though. I think I’d like to revisit it, actually.
I stand from the bench and take a moment to appreciate the beams of sunlight shining down on me. Rare for New York City to see this much sunshine on a cold winter day like this. It’s like the sun is making a special guest appearance just for me. I’m here for it.
Walking toward 6th Avenue at a steady pace, I take in my surroundings, admiring the little shops, vendor stands, and aromas of the city. I haven’t visited New York in years, but I’ve always enjoyed the hustle and bustle here.
It’s funny, in Chrysocolla Cove, everyone walks slowly. In fact, it’s definitely frowned upon to speed walk there.