Fifth Grave Past the Light - Page 38/94

“Oh, how nice. Tell her hi back. And now that we’re done with the pleasantries, what’s going on?”

He drew in a deep breath. “I used to see only ghosts, like shadows in the air. But now I see everything. I see people. I see their clothes. I see the dirt on their feet. I see the blood in their hair.”

I put a palm on his knee in support as he vented about everything he’d been seeing. I was a little surprised Sister Mary Elizabeth hadn’t called me about this. Then again, maybe he didn’t tell her. When he was finished ranting, he blinked back at me, wanting answers, wanting a solution. A solution I would not have.

“You see what I see,” I said, my face showing the empathy I felt. “You see the departed who are left on Earth, who haven’t crossed over. It’s not like in the movies. They aren’t here to scare you or hurt you.”

He kept his eyes focused on mine, hoping I had better news.

“They just want answers like you do. They want to finish something that was left undone.”

“Like unfinished business?” he asked.

“Yes. Who told you that?”

“My friends at school. They think it’s cool I see dead people.” He almost seemed proud of that fact. That was one thing about the Deaf community I always admired beyond belief – they were the most accepting lot I’d ever come across. It didn’t matter what else you had to deal with, blindness, mental challenges, fetal alcohol syndrome, autism, whatever else you were dealing with, if you were culturally Deaf, they accepted you as one of their own. Even, apparently, if you had supernatural sight.

“I think it’s pretty cool, too,” I said.

He looked down. “It’s okay, I guess.”

“But it can be scary.”

“Yes.”

“Just remember, they are exactly like us. They were us, they’ve just crossed to another level of existence.”

He furrowed his brows. “So it’s like they’re still alive?”

“Yes, very much so. They just don’t have their physical bodies anymore. And they could probably use a friend.”

His gaze slid past me. “I didn’t think of it that way.” I let him absorb that information a minute before he blinked back to me. “Maybe they want to go to heaven but they can’t find you.”

I shook my head. “The way I understand it, they can see me from anywhere in the world.”

His eyes rounded. “Even if they’re in China?”

“Even if they’re in China,” I said.

“How? There’s a whole planet between you and them. Can they see through things like we can see through them?”

“I have no idea. It’s strange. I can’t see my own light, so I have no idea how they do.”

That caught his attention. “You can’t see it? Your own light? Because it’s crazy bright.”

“Nope.”

“You can see them, but you can’t see your light?”

“Right.”

“That’s weird.” His mouth tilted into a mischievous grin. “Maybe you need help with your brain.”

“People keep telling me that. No idea why.”

He nodded, agreeing with those people, so naturally I had to tickle his ribs. And lo and behold, the kid was more ticklish than newborn babe. He laughed and pushed at my hands. When I didn’t give up my quest, he curled into a fetal position, his laugh husky and endearing.

“Are you mauling that poor kid?”

I looked over as Cookie walked in carrying take-out bags. “Only a little. He thinks I need mental help.”

“Well, if I have to take sides…”

His laugh grew louder when I found a particularly sensitive rib. “Peeeeese!” he said with his soft voice muffled from his jacket.

“Please?” I asked aloud. “You’ll get no quarter from me, mister.”

He wasn’t looking and I wasn’t signing, so I was speaking only for my own benefit.

And Cookie’s. “I brought a pan each of chicken Alfredo and spaghetti and an order of garlic bread.”

“Yum,” I said, letting Quentin up so he could apologize accordingly. His sunglasses were somewhere in the sofa and he blocked my light with a hand as he searched for them, a huge grin on his face.

“Is that who I think it is?” she asked.

“It’s Quentin,” Amber said, bounding in like a northern wind. “Isn’t he beautiful? And he has no idea what I’m saying. I can talk about him and he won’t know.”

Quentin chuckled and looked over at her.

She paused, her joy turning to mortification, then asked, “Aunt Charley, did you tell him what I said?”

“Yes, I did. And it’s rude to talk about people behind their backs.”

Her face turned a bright shade of scarlet. I almost felt sorry for her.

“You didn’t have to tell him.”

My expression softened in sympathy. “Do you think that’s fair? For you to take advantage of his hearing loss like that?”

“Well, if you put it that way.” She bowed her head and rubbed her fist in a circle on her chest. “I’m sorry, Quentin.”

I was impressed that she knew the sign.

Having finally found his sunglasses, Quentin propped them on top of his head and stepped over to her. “It’s okay.”

His smile disarmed her completely. She forgot all about her mortification. “Can you stay and eat with us?” she asked aloud.