Page 65 of After Life
“No, it’s just—Okay, can I see Cap, too? I feel weird talking about this when I can’t see both of y’all.”
Cap rolled his eyes but moved closer so we could both be in the frame. “Hey, Enoch. Nice to put a face with a voice in my head.”
Enoch cackled. “I’m getting so much better at this whole astral projection thing. I got to practice with this girl—Patrice—she’s part of the group Mom used to be part of, folks like me. Patrice is super smart, and she’s got all sorts of tricks and tips to help make this easier and—” He cut himself off, blushing. “Anyway. I couldn’t help but overhear what y’all were talking about and I have an idea for you, Cap. I mean,” he stumbled, blush increasing until I thought he might actually pop on screen. “If you want.”
Cap shot me a look—What is he talking about?
I shrugged. Your guess is as good as mine.
Enoch fidgeted, darting looks between both of us before taking a deep breath and, voice shaking only a little, made his suggestion. “So, there’re a lot of people like us. I mean, in a general sense, you know? I know y’all don’t do the whole”—he made a gesture near his temple, wiggling his fingers and widening his eyes— “thing that I do, but you’ve got your things, right?”
Cap’s lips twitched in spite of himself, and I nodded. “Right,” I said, smiling just a little. “What are you getting at, Enoch?”
“We form a group!”
There was a moment of silence, then Cap, in a mildly horrified tone, asked, “Like... a boy band or something?”
Enoch blinked, shaking his head. “What? No. I’m a terrible singer. I mean, I guess with auto tune it might work but, I mean, no offense guys but y’all are little old for a boy band. But that could be our thing, right? Unconventional and all that? Something for the moms—and dads,” he added, giving me a nod. “Take their kids to the show, have some eye candy for themselves. That—”
Cap was making a funny sputtering noise I hoped was laughter, and I could practically see Enoch’s train of thought derailing in real time. The time between meeting him and now had apparently been one of great changes for the boy. Not only was he talking fit to beat the band, but he was open and, frankly, obnoxiously cheerful. A real change from the withdrawn, frightened boy I’d met just a few months before. “Enoch, let’s table that for later, hm? Explain your original suggestion to us.”
“Oh! Right! So, when I was getting that, um, help for the stuff in my head? When I had to talk to people about Grandpa and Mom and... and what happened? It helped, you know? And those other people like me, the ones Mom introduced me to when I was little? It helps to talk to them sometimes about our abilities. So,” he drew out, his grin growing to painfully large proportions, “my idea is we form a group. Like a mutual support group, you know? Mediums Anonymous or something? We all have stuff we can teach each other and sometimes it helps to have someone with similar problems to just like, listen to you rage, you know?”
Cap made a face, but... Damn it. Enoch had the seed of a good idea. I thought of Lisa’s insistence that I needed to network and meet some new friends, of Sophia Gates and her gatekeeping of the community... How there was so much I didn’t know still. Even after seeing Grandmere again.
Even after being across the veil.
Maybe Charlotte can tell you more, my thoughts whispered, the new emails that had popped up since regaining power and wi-fi suddenly heavy on my mind. Maybe she knows something that will help.
“That,” I said carefully, not wanting to send him off half-cocked with the idea, “is definitely something we should talk about. Maybe decide who to start with—”
“Everyone!”
“I don’t know everyone,” I said with a dry huff of a sigh. “And we can’t very well just post an ad about it.”
“I got this,” Enoch said with the sort of self-assuredness found mostly in teenagers and drunk people. “I’ll message you,” he added, then disconnected before I could sputter more than a few words of protest.
“Does he mean like a text or like...” Cap touched his temple.
“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “Either way, I’m sure it will be effusive and require untangling.”
Cap left after a few more minutes, needing to return to the ferry and meet with someone about repairs to the dock and the boat itself. His haste to return to Broken Palm had ended precipitously and, for the time being, the only way to or from the island was via the tourist trap’s private launch at Tibbins Quay or waiting for someone to use their personal craft on the Rosie Sands end. Cap had a smaller boat and had offered Julian and I a ride back to the mainland when I was up to leaving. Judging by the way Julian was pacing our room, I was certain I’d be up to leaving fairly soon, if only to get him to stop wearing a track in the vintage rug. “I’ll be good to go soon,” I said, and he jerked his chin up, startled. “Did you forget I was here?”
He blushed, shook his head. “No, I just got lost in my own brain for a bit. It’s been a lot. And, fuck, way for me to make this all about me.” He sighed. “Can I?” He gestured to the bed, and I nodded, moving my legs over to give him space.
“I’m not an invalid,” I murmured. “Just very tired. Cap can take us to the mainland with the tide. Ezra and Harrison are already on their way from New Orleans, and CeCe said she could be here in just a few hours. Heinrich—”
“Heinrich is already in Charleston.” Julian sighed. “He’s been texting me all morning. Apparently, Ezra is fast and loose with my number,” he added with a glare.
I held up my hands. “Oi, take that up with him.”
“Sorry, sorry. I just...” He sank in on himself, scrubbing his hands over his eyes then raking his fingers through his hair before finally exhaling a noisy, tired sigh. “I thought you were dead. Twice. And I don’t... I don’t know how to handle everything I was feeling, and I don’t know what I’d do if you did die before me and—”
“And,” I interrupted, laying my hand on his thigh. He wove his fingers through mine and squeezed gently as I continued. “And I didn’t. I’m here. You’re here. And by this time tomorrow, we’ll be in Charleston.”
Julian nodded, staring at our joined fingers. “I have to confess that I’m feeling very guilty right now.”
“Oh?” I squeezed his fingers, curious more than nervous about what he could possibly be feeling guilt over.
