Sometimes Jon liked to visit with their mother alone. While he went inside, Wendy reclined the passenger seat and counted in her head, breathing in on the even beats and out on the odd. She was just sinking into a zen place when Eddie pounced.
“So what happened in gym?” he asked, zipping open his backpack and checking his cell.
Her breath hitched. “What makes you think anything happened in gym?”
“I know you. You prefer to shower at home unless you’re really gross. The sub only had us walk the track, so I know you couldn’t have broken a sweat there.”
“I ran the track, thank you very much,” Wendy replied stiffly. “New personal record.”
“And?”
“And… I jumped the fence.” Wendy glanced over at Eddie and winced. “What? I saw something. I thought it might’ve been my mom, I went to go check it out.”
“What, are you stupid? Wendy, those woods are full of eucalyptus and there’s a lot of wind today. You know better than that.” Eddie tucked his cell away. “You could’ve been hurt.”
“Hey, after all those accidents last fall I thought they cleared out all the eucalyptus!” Wendy protested. “But you’re right. There’s a guy back there.” She grimaced. “It’s gross.”
“And you didn’t do anything about it?” Eddie straightened and slapped the dashboard. “Wendy, that’s probably illegal or something!”
“Hey, I took care of him!”
“You mean that you took care of his soul. Not his body. Right?” He glanced at her face and shook his head, disgusted. “Of course you didn’t. Shit.” Eddie sighed. “I thought you weren’t going to go around just reaping any ol’ soul anymore. Didn’t you say that you have more important shit to do now?”
“I do.” Wendy sighed and rubbed her eyes. This entire day had left her exhausted and it wasn’t even over yet. She longingly considered skipping the evening patrol, but knew she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. “Look, I’m tired, I had a crappy night last night and a crappy day today. I saw a ghost and I wasn’t exactly thinking straight. Mom took me training in those woods more times than I can count. I just figured that maybe it wasn’t out of the question that if her soul got lost, it was wandering around there, okay? Lay off.”
“Sounds like your mom was the one who was nuts,” Eddie said. “She trained you out there? I mean, it’s not exactly grizzly central, but there are snakes and shit, yeah?”
“I may have seen a snake or two,” Wendy conceded, “but it’s not like we did all our training out there. The woods behind the school were just a good place to learn how to climb and jump and run. They weren’t that big, so there was little chance of me getting lost, and if I messed up there no one would see. I could get up and try again.”
“Huh. I guess I just figured you did it all in graveyards.” Eddie shook his head.
“Let me tell you a trade secret, Eds.” Wendy leaned conspiratorially forward and pitched her voice low. “Ghosts hate graveyards. Unless it’s right after a funeral, the chance of finding a ghost in a graveyard is nil. Vampires, on the other hand…” Laughing, Wendy ducked the playful punch Eddie sent at her shoulder. “What? Don’t you believe in vampires?”
He snorted. “With you around, I’d believe almost anything, but I draw the line at vamps.” He glanced up. “Oh, hey, there’s Jon. You ready?”
Wendy grabbed her backpack. “Let’s go.”
As they passed through UCSF’s Neuro-ICU doors, Wendy took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, wishing that she had just caught the bus home after all. A new nurse was on duty. She was stricter than the nurses normally were and wouldn’t let them onto the ICU floor until both she and Eddie had signed in and she’d jotted down the addresses on their driver’s licenses.
Eddie returned his wallet to his back pocket and waited until they were well away from the nursing station to whisper in Wendy’s ear. “A little power-hungry, methinks.”
“Shh,” Wendy whispered, stepping past him into her mother’s room. The neighboring bed was surrounded by baskets overflowing with pansies and roses, marigolds and cheerful carnations. Cards and stuffed creatures cluttered the bedside table and the window was open, the curtains parted. A fresh breeze scudded the aroma of fresh-cut greens in thick clouds across the room. Behind her Eddie coughed and waved a hand theatrically in front of his face.
On the other side of the curtain, her mother’s side of the room was empty of furniture except for the bed, the table, and two plastic chairs stacked against the wall. Eddie navigated various beeping and wheezing machinery to unstack the chairs as Wendy leaned over her mother and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Hi Mom,” she said and took her mother’s hand. The skin was loose across her knuckles and the bones under Wendy’s fingers felt delicate, breakable.
“Hi,” Eddie echoed, nudging the chair against the back of Wendy’s thighs. She settled on the edge of the chair and he sat beside her, quiet for once.
Wendy sniffed and squeezed her mother’s hand again. “So,” she said, “I think you’re looking better. Isn’t she looking better, Eds?”
“Much better,” he agreed easily. “Up in no time.”
“And Dad came by yesterday,” Wendy continued, as if Eddie hadn’t spoken, “so I know you’re not getting lonely over here. You’ve even got a new neighbor, right?” She glanced over at the curtain separating the beds and was unsurprised to note the young woman in a gaping hospital gown peering around the edge. The silver cord dangling from her navel was thin and brittle, worn away in places, literally hanging by a thread in others. The woman, no more than twenty or so, seemed tired and weak, and her shape drifted away into nothing at the knees.
“Though,” Wendy added in a softer tone, “not for that much longer, I guess.”
Eddie, catching her glance at empty space, winced. “Bad accident?”
“Looks like. She’s hardly there. She’s gonna fade pretty fast.”
A brusque rap on the doorframe made them both jump. Wendy dropped her mother’s hand. A young doctor, one of the few Wendy didn’t know, lifted the clipboard off the wall beside the door, sweeping aside her strawberry-colored braid to rifle the papers. Even in scrubs she was tall and elegantly put together, the sort of long-legged, cool-eyed beauty you’d expect to see strutting a catwalk instead of perusing charts. Beside Wendy, Eddie shifted uncomfortably, and Wendy felt a flash of irritation. Just that morning he’d been declaring his undying love and now he was shifting so the long tails of his overshirt covered his lap. Wendy snorted.
The doctor’s eyes flicked over the room, pausing a moment to consider the neighboring side, and then she smiled apologetically. “Sorry to interrupt, but I’m here on my rounds.”
“No problem,” Wendy said, rising. It didn’t seem as if the doctor had overheard them, but the last thing she wanted was another person thinking she was crazy. “I’m Wendy.” She glanced at the bed and the emaciated shape of the woman beneath the sheets. “This is my mom.”
“Oh, you’re one of Mary’s daughters?” The doctor crossed the room in three quick strides and offered her hand. When Wendy took it she pumped brusquely twice and dropped it. Her palm was hot to the touch. “I’m Emma Henley. I’ll be assisting Dr. Shumacker on your mother’s case during my residency.”
“Nice gig,” Eddie interjected. “Liking it so far?”
Emma looked coolly down her long nose at him. “Yes.”
“Don’t mind Eddie,” Wendy said. “He’s an old family friend, and my ride out here. Dad leaves me the car, but I don’t like driving around the city and Eds is good company.”
“Yes,” Emma said, glancing at her clipboard and moving to the side of the bed. “I met your father yesterday. Very nice man. He’s well-liked around here.”
The soul of the woman in the neighboring bed drifted closer and peered at the clipboard. “Where are my charts?” she asked, waving her arms wildly. “Where is my boyfriend? He was driving. Is he here? Can I see him? Why won’t anyone talk to me, damnit.?!”
One of her flailing hands passed through the clipboard. Wendy tensed; sometimes the living could feel the cold when the dead or dying were near. The doctor, concentrating on the papers in front of her, didn’t seem to notice anything amiss.
“Well, that’s Dad, you know,” Wendy said brightly. “He’s always been, you know, super friendly.” She paused, struggling for a way to answer the soul’s question without appearing morbid. “Looks like there’s a new neighbor for my mom, huh?”
“Hmm?” Emma glanced up. “Oh, yes. Things were busy in here for a few days, guests coming and going.”
“Car accident?”
Emma raised one slim, perfectly manicured eyebrow. “I really can’t say.”
“Right, right,” Wendy agreed. “Silly me. It’s just, uh, I got a look at her and it doesn’t look like…it just looks like an accident.” Beside her the soul sobbed softly, tangled blonde hair dangling into nothing as she wept, over and over: Please-please-please.
“Accidents happen,” Emma agreed and slipped to the left to examine a read-out on one of the beeping machines. “All too often, I’m afraid.”
“That’s life,” Wendy said, giving up any attempt at subtlety. “Look, I know you can’t tell me anything, and I know this is going to sound so very grotesque, but can you tell me if her boyfriend survived? Whatever accident it was, I mean?”
The doctor stiffened and for a moment Wendy was certain she’d gone too far with her questions; Dr. Henley was going to order her out of her mother’s room or perhaps call security to escort her off the premises. Then the doctor sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose.
“Wendy,” Emma said slowly, “why do you care? Do you know Lauren?” She winced. “The patient, I mean?”
At the sound of her name the soul wept harder, shivering from the effort.
“No,” Wendy replied carefully, “but if I’d been in a big accident like that, one that landed me in a coma, Eddie’d be here every free moment, like my dad is for my mom.”
“And how do you know that she doesn’t have people in here every evening?” Emma crossed her arms over her chest. “School’s only just let out for the day. Most working stiffs don’t get off at three, you know.”
“The chairs were over here,” Wendy said simply, amazed that the answer came to her so easily. “I know Dad and Nana were here yesterday, and Dad always stacks them when he’s done. There’s no guest chair on her side of the room.”
The corner of Emma’s mouth twitched. “You’re observant.”
“I’m here every week or so.” Wendy shrugged. “You learn how things work.”
“I shouldn’t be telling you this,” Emma said, relenting. “And if you tell anyone that you got this from me, I’ll deny it. Get it?”
“Got it.”
Collecting the clipboard off the bedside table, Emma made a note in the bottom corner. “Good. Your instincts were right. The boyfriend was driving and he was D.O.A. They had to work all night to keep her going.”
Dead On Arrival. Wendy winced as Lauren’s sobbing ratcheted up several levels to an almost earsplitting decibel of anguish and pain. “Oh man.” She surreptitiously glanced at the soul beside her and sighed. “So she’s not going to survive, then.”
“There’s no proof of that,” Emma said stiffly. “She could pull out of it any day now.”
“None of my business. I got it.” Wendy reached down and squeezed her mother’s ankle. “Thanks for being cool about it. Anyway, how are things looking here? Same old, same old?”
“Yes. I’m sorry.” Emma patted Wendy on the shoulder and once again Wendy was struck by how warm the tall, thin doctor was. The hospital itself was kept at a comfortably cool temperature but Dr. Henley was baking. Wendy wondered if she should mention it. “That’s nothing to worry over though, I promise. I don’t want to get your hopes up, but one day I’m positive your mother will pull through.” Emma winked and smiled. It was obvious that the expression was meant to be comforting, but it fell short. Still, her eyes were kind, and the fingers on her shoulder were gentle. “Call it a good feeling.”
That tight smile ended Wendy’s inner debate. “That’s good at least. Hey, look, this is going to sound strange, but you’re so warm. Are you feeling okay?”
“Am I?” Emma pressed her wrist to her forehead. “I guess I am. Must be picking something up; I’d better stop by the nurse’s station and grab an Advil.” She laughed. “Word to the wise, Wendy, don’t go into medicine unless you’ve got the constitution of a bull. Being around ill people will knock you out every time.” The pager at her hip beeped and Emma set the clipboard back in the plastic holder beside the door. “I’ve got to get that. It was very nice meeting you, Wendy.”
“You too,” Wendy said.
Once Dr. Henley was well away, Eddie patted the seat beside the bed. “Jon can wait a little longer. Come, chill for a few.”
“I’m so tired,” Wendy admitted. “I’m just not sleeping right, Eds.” She settled onto the seat again and stared at her mother’s face. “You know, to be honest, I don’t think it matters how long I scour the city or how many…how many souls I reap along the way. I don’t think I’m ever going to find her.”
In the corner, Lauren had finally quieted. The bad news had been a blow; she sat with her back against the wall and her hair dangling into her lap, forearms resting on her knees. Wendy’s heart went out to her but the translucency of her soul spoke volumes—Lauren wouldn’t need help crossing over. “I just wish I knew why Mom’s different than the others.” She sniffed and scrubbed her cheeks aggressively. “DAMN! I mean, this sucks. This just sucks. Mom knows this stuff backwards and forwards, Eddie. I’m still just in training. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t do all this by myself anymore, you know? I’m only reaping the ones who get in my way and I’m still struggling to get by. I don’t know how Mom did it; she must have been a frickin’ superwoman. I need help.” She hung her head. “I need help finding her soul before she ends up like that.”
Eddie glanced into the empty corner Wendy was glaring at and shrugged, uncomfortable. Their talk that morning had left both of them a little raw but Wendy was opening up, something she hadn’t done since her mother’s accident. He reached over and took her hand in his, saying nothing, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb. It seemed like the best course of action.
“You’re a good friend, Eds,” she sighed, and slumped against the chair, leaning so her forehead rested against his shoulder. “The best friend a girl could have.”
Eddie tensed and then sighed, relaxing. “Thanks, Wendy,” he murmured, pressing a chaste kiss to her temple and bundling her close. “I’m glad to hear that.”
It was their habit, after school, to go to the Dew Drop Diner for dinner and wait for Chel to get off from cheerleading practice. The trip up to UCSF hadn’t taken that long but the diner was packed by the time they arrived. The smells of hot coffee, sizzling bacon, and crisp seasoned fries were rich around them as Eddie slid into their regular booth, hogging up an entire side. Wendy nudged Jon’s bulk over and tried not to notice as Eddie gleefully ogled a couple three booths behind them.
“I thought you were taking time off?” she asked archly. “First the doc and now this?”
He dismissed her question with an airy wave. “The doc was just eye-candy and besides, I’m sure she’s, like, twenty-two. Way too old for me. No, no, those two are the true shame. It must be a sin for people that hot to be together,” Eddie mourned, sinking down. “Then I can’t date either one.”
“Think of the babies though,” Wendy said, sneaking a peek. The boy was feeding his girlfriend ice cream, following it with a steamy kiss that reminded her uncomfortably of that morning in Eddie’s car. “Genes like those practically guarantee moviestar quality. Aw, first love.”
Jon glanced over his shoulder and snorted. “First love? Uh, no. They’re in my class. She’s not his girlfriend. That’s Mike Anderson, right? His girlfriend’s Sue Larson, on the—”
“Cheerleading squad with Chel,” Wendy remembered, flopping back in her seat. “Which is practicing as we speak. Huh. Wow.”
“Juicy,” Eddie agreed, wagging his eyebrows. “I’m clearly behind on my gossip.”
“You three are later than usual. Two cokes, one no ice, and a water?” their server asked as she approached their table. Lucy had been waitressing there since Wendy’s mother had started bringing her for Sunday breakfasts when she was small. By now Lucy knew their order by heart and kept her pad tucked in the apron slung low around her hips. Smiling, Wendy shook her head. “Coke for me too, Lucy. I’m feeling festive.”
Tapping the table twice to show she’d understood, Lucy spun on her heel to fetch their drinks. They never ordered dinner until Chel arrived, but homecoming was just around the corner, and her practice stretched longer every night. Wendy didn’t mind. It was the one time of day she could let go and force herself to relax. Chel would join them soon, but in the meantime it was just the three of them and the busy restaurant, each lost in their own thoughts.
Eddie made space for their backpacks on his side of the booth, pulled out his reading assignment—The Stranger by Camus—and dived in. Jon, following his example, began puzzling over his Spanish homework, leaving Wendy alone without something urgent to do. Wendy thought about starting her homework, but after her long day she didn’t feel like it. Lucy brought their drinks and two baskets brimming with fries. One sat before Jon, the other was for Eddie and Wendy to share. Jon absently began devouring his fries by the fistful.
Wendy sighed and tried not to think about their afternoon visit to UCSF or the lonely soul in her mother’s room. Every room in the Neuro-ICU had a soul like Lauren’s—souls trapped near their bodies by the last minutes of their lives, hovering somewhere between life and death. Until their connection to their bodies snapped, they weren’t alive and weren’t dead; hovering spirits waiting for the moment they either woke up…or died.
As much as it killed her to admit it, until they were dead Wendy could do nothing for them. They were beyond her reach. Still, despite that terrible limbo, it would have been a relief to see her mother’s soul there among the others, even if her body grew weaker by the day. It would be proof that some part of her still existed.
But her soul, unlike every other soul Wendy had seen in such a state, was gone. Her mother’s soul was missing and Wendy couldn’t rest until she’d found it.
When night fell she’d go out on patrol, taking Caltrain closer and closer to the city, walking the streets every night until she was certain each section was empty, that her mother’s lost and wandering spirit hadn’t somehow taken up residence there.
Until sunset, though, Wendy could take a breather. She thought of her patrol the night before and the picture on her notebook. She thought of the kiss she’d shared that morning, how she’d pushed Eddie away. It had hurt at the time, but after all his over-the-top ogling and staring this afternoon, Wendy knew she’d done the right thing.
Maybe Eddie was right. Maybe she should’ve called the cops for that guy in the woods. It wasn’t like she’d be the first kid to jump the fence; she couldn’t get in too much trouble for it, right? But old lessons stuck and Wendy’s mother had rules about encounters like the one she’d had.
Always cover your back. Her mother’s words had been pounded into Wendy so often over the years that it was as if Mary was in the room with her, whispering them in her ear. When it came to reaping, her mom was all business, all the time. Especially in the early days, after Wendy had woken to the Light.
Her mother had waited until they were in the car to begin. “You and Eddie didn’t come downstairs. I thought we told you to fetch him, Winifred.”
“I tried, Mom, but he didn’t want to.” Wendy pushed back in the seat and scrubbed her palms across her cheeks. She wanted to explain further but she knew her mother’s tone when she called Wendy by her full name like that; Wendy didn’t want to push her luck and end up grounded.
“Bereavement rituals are important for the living and the dead.” The car slid backwards into the street, engine purring. Pulling to the end of the street, her mother clipped the end of each word; her knuckles were white on the steering wheel. “Some dead stick around only for the funerals, Wendy. They won’t pass into the Light on their own if they think the rituals weren’t followed just so.”
The guilt was sour in her mouth. “Was Mr. Barry angry at me?”
Her mother sighed. “Unless you spotted him, he wasn’t there, Wendy. But my point is that he could have been. They frequently are.” She looked left, then right. “We’re not going home right away. I can see now that I need to start your lessons sooner rather than later.”
“But Dad—”
“Can wait. He’s used to it.” Her mother punched the gas and the station wagon darted forward into traffic. They drove up to the high school and parked in the principal’s spot. The engine was barely off before her mother was out of the car and on the move, Wendy scrabbling to unbuckle her belt and follow. “Mom! Mom, wait!”
Tearing her skirt in thorny bushes, Wendy pushed on after her mother, trying to put her feet where her mother did, trying to slide through the gaps as neatly as her mother did. Her legs weren’t as long, though; nor was she tall enough to push back the branches her mother could. When she finally caught up with her mother she was scratched from head to toe, her hair tangled and sweaty, her cheek cut and stinging from a stray branch. “Mom,” she panted. “Why didn’t you slow down? I’m bleeding.”
“Wendy, darling, in our line of work you just have to get used to it,” her mother said, but her words were gentle. She wasn’t looking at her daughter, but instead staring intently into a backyard butting up against the edge of the woods. The chain link back here was only hip-high on Wendy, easy to jump if she needed to. A small girl, no more than three or four, was swinging on the backyard swing set. She wasn’t pumping her legs; strong hands pushed her higher and higher. She squealed happily. “Higher Grandma! Higher!”
“But…she’s dead. Right?” Wendy blinked and rubbed her eyes, thinking that perhaps the rapidly expanding twilight was playing tricks with her. “How can she do that? And can the kid see her? She can, can’t she?”
Her mother sighed. “I don’t have all the answers, Wendy-girl. But this much I do know…she died last week. I was here, picking up the body, but I couldn’t do anything then.” She pushed aside a branch and glanced around the yard. “Other than the two of them it looks all clear, but I’m not willing to risk it. It would look very strange, me showing up here like this. So you get to do it instead. Who’s going to suspect a little girl?”
“Do it?”
“Send her into the Light.”
“But, Mom, I don’t know how,” Wendy protested. “All I can do is see them!”
“You’ll figure it out.” She laid a hand on Wendy’s shoulder. “But remember, Wendy-girl. Cover your back. I had to.”
“What do you mean, you had—ow!” Wendy stumbled into the yard, her mother’s shove pushing her far enough past the bushes that she had nowhere to hide. The girl’s swing slowed; both the spirit and the little girl had spotted her immediately.
“Hi!” the little girl chirruped, jumping off the swing at the low point, stumbling when she hit the ground but catching her balance quick enough. “Do you want to swing?”
“Lacey, no,” the old lady hissed. “Stranger danger! You don’t know her name!”
“I’m Wendy,” Wendy said quickly. She swiped her hand against her cheek, feeling the hot smear of her blood against her palm. “But your grandma’s right, I don’t want to swing.”
“You…you can hear me?” The old woman hurried forward and grabbed Wendy by the shoulders. “You have to—ouch, girl! You’re hot!”
“I am?” Wendy put her wrist against her forehead. She didn’t feel any different to herself, not like she was running a temperature. Wendy shrugged. “Sorry? I can’t control it.”
“No matter. You have to go. You can’t stay here.”
“Why not?” Wendy knelt by the younger girl. “Lacey? Maybe you should go inside, okay? It’s getting awfully dark and cold. You should go wash up.”
“No!” The ghost waved her arms widely but Lacey, yawning, toddled off toward the patio door. “Lacey Marie, you come back here! Lacey!” She turned on Wendy and wagged a finger in her face. “Young lady, I know you think you’re doing the right thing, but you’re an idiot.”
“I just…I didn’t want her to see this.”
“See what?”
“See me…see me sending you into the Light.” Wendy winced.
“Sending me into the Light? Child, I turned my back on that nonsense a week ago. You think I’m going to just let you shove me into it now? Especially when there’s no sane person around to keep an eye on my granddaughter? Absolutely not.”
“But…don’t you want to go to heaven? Or whatever?”
She laughed mirthlessly. “You don’t have the slightest idea what you’re doing, do you? Look, young lady, I didn’t believe in a god when I was alive, I’m hardly about to start believing in him now. Now if you’ll excuse me—”
“Hey!” Wendy snapped, inexplicably angry with the stubborn old ghost who should’ve had the sense to go into the Light when it’d been offered the first time. If it hadn’t been for her, Wendy would be home right now, safe in her warm bed, thinking good thoughts about the kiss with Eddie, not bloody and shivering at the edge of the woods while her mother skulked somewhere in the shadows and watched her argue with a ghost. “My name is Wendy! You wouldn’t want me to start calling you ‘old fart,’ would you? And… and… okay, you don’t have a choice. Right? If you need to go into the Light, you just go, okay? Or else you’re stuck. The Light doesn’t stick around forever, you know.”
Wendy crossed her arms over her chest and scowled. She was making a huge mess of this, she could tell. Strangely, standing there with the anger bubbling was sending an odd feeling coursing through her body; an acid-tummy sort of feeling, but stronger, hotter. It was as if she could suddenly feel the heat the old woman had been complaining about. She felt unexpectedly flush and warm, her eyes drying in their sockets as if she were baking with fever. The ghost shimmered before her; Wendy blinked rapidly to keep her centered in her sight.
Her tone changed, softened. “Please…Wendy. I don’t know what you are, but please, please, don’t do this. Please. I need to stay.”
“I can’t,” Wendy whispered, marveling at the bizarre heat pooling in her gut, straining to expand. Controlling the heat was incredibly difficult; Wendy felt her tongue begin to dry, making her next words clumsy and hard to say. “I don’t know why but I can’t stop.” Wendy bent double, the heat throbbing out through her chest and belly now, insistent and fierce. “I’m really sorry.”
“Then do me a favor,” she said urgently. “You have to get Lacey out of here.” The ghost pointed to the house. “I was the last blood relative Lacey has left. Her stepfather isn’t a very nice man, he…” she stopped short, blushing. “How old are you?”
“Old enough,” Wendy snapped, uncomfortably aware of the direction the conversation was turning. Her palms felt like they were blistering. She dropped to her hands and knees on the cold, muddy ground, feeling the earth beneath her knees simultaneously squelch and bake under her heat. It was as if the backyard were shining through some dark prism—one moment, the world was light and sweet, the backyard small but well-kept, and the next it was decaying in front of her face, the neat late-season roses lushly overgrown and rotting on the bush.
“The Never,” Wendy whispered. Her mother had described the world of the dead to her, but this was the first time she’d seen it for herself. Wendy held up one hand, marveling at the tiny buds of Light beginning to illuminate the tip of each finger. “You want me to call the police.”
“Please.”
“Okay. Done,” Wendy whispered and the Light unfurled within.
When she opened her eyes again, the old woman was gone and a pair of scuffed up boots were in front of her at eye-level.
“Kid, I’m giving you thirty seconds to get off my property,” slurred the man standing over her. He had a beer in one hand and a baseball bat in the other. “And if you come around here jumping my fence any more, I’m calling the cops, you hear me?”
“Yes sir,” Wendy murmured, pushing off the ground and staggering towards the woods.
“Hey! Idiot!” The man grabbed Wendy by the shoulder and spun her sharply around. “You can’t walk through those woods. Not at night. Go by the street.” He shoved her toward the side gate and Wendy, embarrassed, let him push her onto the sidewalk.
It took her an hour to find her way back through the winding neighborhood to the high school. “It’s done,” she said, sliding in the passenger seat.
“What did she make you promise?” Her mother wiped a hand across her mouth and Wendy realized that she’d been drinking.
“To call the police on the little girl’s stepdad.” Wendy reached for her mother’s cell.
“Oh, hell no.” Her mother snatched the phone out of reach.
“But, Mom, I promised.”
“What did I say, Wendy? I said ‘cover your back,’ didn’t I? Or did I imagine that?”
“Yeah, but—”
“NO BUTS, WINIFRED!” Her mother pounded the steering wheel. “We don’t owe that family anything, you understand me? How would you explain yourself to the cops, huh? ‘A ghost told me to call?’ No. Absolutely not. That’s not how we work.”
“But—”
“Wendy, you listen to me.” Her mother swiveled in her seat and grabbed Wendy by the face, squeezing her cheeks painfully. “You listen to me and you listen good. Okay? Are you listening? What we do? What we do is the ultimate sacrifice for these people. Those ribbons of light that come out of your fingers, out of your chest? Every one of those is a second of your own life. You are giving up your life to help them, to send them on. You are wrapping up a ticket home with your own life for these people. So if even one of them asks for anything more, you tell them no. Do you understand me? You tell them NO, Wendy.”
“I can’t,” she cried. “I can’t not help that little girl.”
When her mother’s slap cracked across her cheek, Wendy sank against the passenger side door and wept.
“You gave that woman a gift tonight, so that’s my gift to you in return. That’s your reward,” her mother breathed, looming over her. “You’re a Reaper now. Neither one of us wanted it like this, but what’s done is done. It took the death of your best friend’s father to make you this way. I love you, but the coddling is officially over!”
“Momma—”
“No. No. I’m done arguing. You aren’t putting our family and everything I’ve worked for in danger by reporting that man. I don’t care what the ghost said. I can’t risk my cover for some stranger’s kid. I’m sorry, I really honestly am, Wendy, but I can’t.”
“Then I don’t want to be a Reaper,” Wendy whispered, wiping her tears away. “I quit.”
Her mother snorted. “Good luck. You think I didn’t try that, too? You can’t quit being a Reaper. It’s who you are now. The best thing for you to do is learn how to do it right, how to cover your back in the living world, and how to keep yourself safe. You will be trained as my grandmother trained me, the same as her grandmother trained her. You will reap when I say to reap and you will do it over and over again until I’ve seen that you’ve done it right. As of this moment you’re an adult; it’s time to start acting like it.”
Wendy thought she was heartless. They didn’t speak on the way home and her mother said nothing when Wendy pounded up the stairs to her room, slamming the door behind. But later that night, while her mother was on her cell talking to Nana, the kitchen phone rang. Wendy answered; it was her mother’s boss.
“Winifred, hi honey, is your mom there?”
“No, she’s on the other line. Do I need to go grab her? Is she on call?”
“No, honey, nothing like that. I don’t have time to talk right now anyway. You just tell her that I got her message and I pulled some strings. The SFPD already sent a unit out to fetch…well, they got someone out of a bad situation. That’s all you need to know to let her know, that it’s all been taken care of, okay? That’s all, and you write it down if you need to. Quote: ‘It’s all been taken care of.’ Unquote. I’ll talk to her next week. G’night, honey.”
Wendy wrote the message down, heart in her throat. She never brought it up again, but the next time her mother wanted to go reaping, Wendy went without comment and listened carefully to every instruction she was given. She owed her that much.
Pulling away from the memories before she started tearing up, Wendy grabbed her soda and gulped it down. The carbonation burned enough to clear her mind and she fought back a loud belch, pressing her hand flush against her lips and letting out a series of tiny burps instead. Setting down the glass, Wendy let her eyes wander around the restaurant, seeking anything to take her mind from her mother, her duty, her life.