Page 59 of After Life
“Hell yeah!” He jumped to his feet, giving strong golden retriever vibes as he grinned down at me. “Do you need help practicing? I can show you what we did in the workshop last night. I got up early this morning to work on it, but Theresa and I got to talking and she said she’d teach me some stuff.”
“Oh, my sweet summer child... Right. Listen, this is a lot, but I need you to really pay attention, yes?”
“Roger that.”
Sigh. “Can you reach out to someone who isn’t typically open to your abilities?”
“I mean... yeah. It’s possible. Kinda rude, though. Like bustin’ in on someone’s conversation or something, I figure.”
“Well, this is an emergency. I need to get Julian, but he’s not answering his phone.”
Enoch laughed. “This is a funny way to deliver a message, Oscar. Why don’t you just email him?”
“Because he probably thinks I’m dead and my body is being used by someone else at the moment.”
Enoch stared at me, his expression falling as he sat back down on the tailgate. “Alright. I might need more details.”
ENOCH HAD A ROOM TO himself at the Crescent Moon Retreat Center for Exceptional Minds (good god). The place was crawling with ghosts, but they didn’t seem to notice me at all, which could be good or bad. I was undecided just then. But ghosts or no, Enoch had been blooming since the last time we’d met. He talked a mile a minute and hopped from subject to subject like a rabbit, greeting early risers heading for the kitchen and the night owls just staggering to bed alike with enthusiastic, contagious cheer. We reached his room, and he opened the door with a flourish. “Make yourself comfortable,” he offered, stretching out on the bed. “Sorry, it’s just easier for me to do this if I’m totally relaxed, you know? Like, if I got too many things in my head, I start getting all scattered and might scare some poor ol’ lady at HEB by popping in and asking her what she’s making for dinner cause her cart looks like it’s gonna be tacos and I love tacos.”
“Enoch.”
“Sorry, sorry. Mike—he’s one of the counselors here—he said I need to work on my focus.”
“Tell Mike he’s right,” I muttered.
“Okay. Let me see here. Julian Weems. Julian Weems...” Enoch smirked. “Paging Doctor Julian Weems. You’ve got a call holding.”
“Oh my god.”
Enoch cleared his throat. “Sorry. Here we go.” He was quiet for a long time, his body sinking into a sort of stillness that was not sleep but something deeper. His eyes moved rapidly beneath their lids, his lips pressed into a thin line as he pushed himself into the astral plane or whatever they called it. After a long time, he dragged in a deep breath then let it out on a sigh. “I can’t find him. There are a couple of lights on that island you mentioned, and I found that easy enough on my mind map, you know? But not Julian. It’s like he’s a blank spot.”
“He’ll love to hear that,” I sighed. “You said there were other lights? Can you see who?”
He shook his head. “Just that some folks there, they got tendencies like us. Not totally normal human stuff. I don’t know if they can talk like this or not but... want me to try?”
Reluctantly, I nodded. “Just be careful, okay?”
“Will do! Okay, let’s see what’s what.”
An hour later, he’d weeded out a startled man in Tibbins Quay who thought he was having a stroke, someone else in the same area who knew exactly what was happening and shut him down in a heartbeat, and finally settled on a very bright light, one that was actually on the mainland but Enoch said had a line running to the island. “I’ve been practicing,” he said proudly. “I’m gettin’ real good at seeing connections now.”
“That’s wonderful,” I said, trying not to sound exasperated. Something was happening, and I was feeling strange, unsettled. My being itched. I needed to move... “Enoch, I think... I think something’s happening to me. I don’t know if I’m going to be here longer or not.”
He nodded. “Let me just try, okay?”
“Try but if I disappear on you—”
“I think I found someone. He’s pissed, but he’s listening.”
I nodded. “Tell him—”
FOR AN ENDLESS BREATH, I fell. Color, sound, everything whirled past me. I braced for pain, for the end, for everything to fall in on me at once.
And then it stopped.
I felt nothing.
No, that was wrong. I felt fear. Panic. But it was from outside me. Anger, too. Envy.
