Whisper (The Whisper Trilogy) Page 6

  “How old are they?”

  “They’re twelve.”

  “Whoa… twin brothers. What’s that like?”

  “Noisy.”

  He laughed, and our conversation moved from family to movies to school, and it was so easy. Soon the butterflies had flown away, and we were back at the church yard where we started. My stomach was growling… I guess angels do need sustenance. Interesting.

  “What time is it?” I asked him.

  He pushed a shock of dark hair out of his eyes and checked out his phone. “1:30. You have to be somewhere?” For the first time that day, his ocean deep eyes traveled me, head to toe, toe to head, possibly even pausing to stare at some key locations.

  I’m sure my mouth was hanging open wide. I think there was drool pooled up in the corner, maybe. I had never felt so violated - and at the same time so excited – ever. If I could have pulled myself together, I would’ve told him where to shove his wandering eyes. Electricity hung in the air around us. I shot him a warning glare.

  “Don’t look at me like that.”

  He smirked. “Like what?”

  “Seriously, Joshua. If you and I are going to be friends, there are going to be ground rules.” At the risk of sounding like my mother, I was not about to be treated like a piece of eye candy.

  “Okay, that’s cool, Calliope.” He laughed through his perfect nose and then took a deep breath. “But, you are, you know.” Laughing again. “Serious eye candy, girl.”

  I huffed and gave him a look that said “I can’t believe you just said that!” But he laughed it off, and secretly, I was pretty pumped that the most gorgeous guy I knew was sweet on me. These were some crazy times.

  Just then, a shadow darkened his face. “I gotta go. I’ll catch up with you later.” And before I could say okay, he was gone. He must have sprinted behind the church, must have been late for something.

  I closed my eyes and remembered the crinkle near his eyes when he laughed, the way he tossed his long bangs off his face, his deep voice complimenting me, sort of. It was like someone had turned up the heat out here. Was I actually breathing heavy? I had to get home and take a shower, a cold one.

  I was surprised my mom hadn’t sent a search and rescue party out for me already. Must be some craziness going on at home with the boys to keep her preoccupied. I was glad she hadn’t come looking for me. One glance at Joshua Pride, and she’d never allow me to come within ten feet of him again. Also, I was sure she would have been able to feel the heady heat bouncing off of me and read my attraction like it was written in bold and italics on a caution sign. She always seemed to guess when I had a crush, and I was pretty sure my feelings for Joshua Pride were transparent enough.

  “Take my hand, Calliope.”

  What the? “Silas, you scared the crap out of me!” My heart was pounding, and I think I jumped three feet off the ground. Scowling, I turned away from him and continued walking. “I have to go home, Silas. I’m starving, and my parents are probably freaking out. Also, I need a shower.” I smiled inside thinking of the reason why.

  “All of that can wait, Calliope. We have some work to do.”

  I shouldn’t have been surprised when he grabbed my shoulder and we were suddenly in what seemed to be an empty stairwell in an apartment building. I was surprised though, and a little annoyed. “I told you I had to get home,” How such a little guy could be so pushy was beyond me. I took notice then of his clothing choice. Silas, it seemed, had an affinity for white bottoms and neckwear. Was he wearing one of my scarves and how did he possibly fold it to fit so perfectly on his tiny form? How can a person stay angry at a miniature version of Willy Wonka? I stifled a laugh. Clad in a red and white polka dot button down and white scarf paired with the ever consistent white jeans, Silas was almost too ridiculous to be mad at.

  “Nice scarf,” I said with just a hint of sarcasm, but he didn’t catch it. He just swept his feathery blond hair dramatically to the side.

  “Oh, why thank you.” He replied, too gullible for words and just a little sheepish. “I didn’t think you’d mind.”

  “Keep it. It brings out the yellow in your wings.”

  I could hear what sounded like crying. Again with the crying… sigh. I had a feeling there was going to be a lot of misery in the days ahead. We pushed towards the sound which was coming from beyond the stairwell. That’s when the headache hit me like a dozen nails piercing my forehead. “Ow.” The pain brought me to my knees, head in my hands. I couldn’t open my eyes, but I could smell them. They were close, and I would have guessed there were a lot of them.

  “Calliope, there is a trick to the headaches. Focus immediately on the soul that’s in trouble. Fight the urge to feel the pain, hear the whispers or smell the sulfur. Focus all of your efforts outward towards the one who needs your help.” He put his tiny hand on my shoulder. “Just find the girl, and the pain will stop.”

  Sounded a lot like plain old positive thinking to me, but I tried it. I honed in on the cries of the girl ahead of me somewhere, trying to nab their location. Getting carefully to my feet I blocked out everything else and listened for her. Squinting my eyes and breathing shallowly, I was able to really concentrate. I moved slowly but with purpose towards the rear of the building. She wasn’t under the stairwell. There was a bathroom back here, and that was where the cries were coming from. I pushed open a heavy steel door that was covered in cracked beige paint with the letters OMEN on it. I had to assume the W was missing.

  Suddenly, a sea of voices emerged from the quiet. The headache was gone. In its place was the buzzing of at least twenty whispering Darks, all out for the same tortured girl. Her cries were interrupted by hurling and gurgling noises that sounded familiar to me. I couldn’t name them through all of the chanting.

  “Gross. Fat. Gross. Fat. Gross. Fat.”

  “Nobody wants to touch you.”

  “Worthless.”

  “It’s all you’ve got. Control it.”

  “Disgusting.”

  It came crashing into me like a train. These little shugars were whispering to her self esteem, telling her she was fat and worthless. She was in that bathroom, in the large stall, the one that was handicap accessible. I could picture her hanging onto the metal bars next to that disgustingly dirty toilet, making herself throw up. She was struggling with bulimia, and it was all because of an unseen team of Darks, doing their best to destroy her.

  The pain I’d felt for the red headed druggie girl the other night; I felt it now. Again, I was moved to tears by the plight of this poor girl. I hadn’t even laid eyes on her yet, but I could sense her innocence, her insecurity. Somehow I knew about her, knew her story. Her father had left her mom when she was five. She still remembered the smell of him when he’d come home at night from work. He’d pick her up and fold her into her bed, and she’d tuck her face into him, breathing cherry and tobacco. Sometimes he’d tell her made up stories to make her laugh. He was a hero of sorts, even though he smacked Mom around. Then one day, he didn’t come home. He just never showed up. She just wasn’t good enough to make him want to come back, but she’d never stopped trying… If she were only thinner.

  “If you were only thinner…” echoed a whispering voice, and the empathy inside my veins ignited and morphed into pure loathing.

  Holding my breath, I pushed open the bathroom stall door only to find at least forty Darks, Raysers I guessed, piled on top of each other in the small space, whispering with their sneaky raspy voices, intent on ruining this poor girl.

  At first when she saw me fling myself into the bathroom, her secret hideaway, she looked surprised and a little offended, like I’d shown up uninvited to her private puking party. Well, excuse me for crashing in on all the fun, sweetheart. I’m kind of on a mission here. Then, her face flipped a switch to reveal layers and layers of shame and hurt. Tears welled up in her eyes. She was a tiny little thing, fourteen or fifteen years old, probably, stringy blonde hair that had a greenish tinge. She definitely didn�
��t need to lose any weight. In fact, if she got any thinner, I was afraid she would disappear. She had dark circles under her eyes, and her skin looked grey and sick.

  Before I could even register what she was doing, she had curled herself up in my arms, and I’d wrapped mine around her, protectively. Stranger things, I guess…

  An army of Raysers was creeping dumbly towards us, whispering about weakness, ugliness, fear, shame. Images flashed in my mind like snapshots of horror, and my head began to throb. Behind my eyes I saw people killing each other, wars, madness...

  “Open your eyes, Calliope. Don’t let them trick you. You are stronger than they are, but you have to face them and focus.” Silas’s voice in my ears. Where had he come from, and why wasn’t he helping?

  The girl was crying now. I could feel her warm tears on my bare arms. My head felt like it was in a vise, but when I opened my eyes, the pain lessened a little. We were totally surrounded. They were all large and scaly. Some of them had pig snouts, and some had wings like bats. Their eyes looked droopy, like they had been drugged, and they were all chanting at the same time, which made for very loud whispering. It was hard to believe this girl couldn’t see them, but I knew she couldn’t. Although these mangy demons preyed on her fear and shame and intensified it, all she could see were the imperfections inside herself. These and her deep deep shame were the cause of her tears.

  “What’s your name?” I asked her, probably too loudly, because I could hardly hear my own thoughts over the ring of Darks that encircled us with their smelly noise.

  “Jen.” She choked on her name and wiped her nose with her sleeve.

  “I want you to stay right here in this corner for a minute.” I tucked her behind the toilet next to a filthy black plunger. Gross yes, but given the choice of a crap covered plunger or a Rayser, I’d go with the plunger. She looked at me like I had two heads –which might have been more believable than the truth. “You’re going to be okay.”

  Her eyes dug into mine. “You won’t tell anyone?”

  Who was I gonna tell? I didn’t even know this girl.

  Wait, did she know me? Oh, man, what if she went to Mackle High School too and recognized me? There was going to be some explaining to do around school if that were the case. This was bad news.

  “Do I know you?”

  “I’m Johnston’s cousin.”

  “Johnston?”

  “Deavers.”

  “Oh.” Johnston Deavers was the boy who’d been crushing on Mila since the third grade. He followed her around; it could almost have been considered stalking except that he was just so innocent… I mean, Johnston loved three things – Star Trek, Star Wars and well… Mila. He really wasn’t a bad kid, but, Mila would never give him a wink let alone a second glance. So, great… she was Johnston’s cousin…

  “Calliope. Focus.”

  “Shut up, Silas.” I knew he was right though.

  “Who?” Jen asked, but I just shook my head. I really needed to learn how to navigate this space in between real and unreal, where I could see demons and everyone else could see me, acting like an escapee from the local psych ward. And now, Jen would tell Deavers, and Deavers would use it as a way to talk to Mila, and… oh whatever.

  With Jen watching me, I went to work. I focused beyond her sad little shape in the corner on the ugly demons behind her. Grabbing the two of them, I channeled my anger into popping their heads together. Smash. Bits of smelly green slime oozed down the walls.

  That one was for the girl.

  The next one I targeted gave a little “Dur?” sound when I kicked it in the groin. Grabbing its head, I gave one swift twist. Pop. More stinky goo.

  That one was for ruining my dreamy afternoon.

  These guys really couldn’t see me coming. After I eliminated the first ten or twelve, the rest started to look a little confused; like they knew something was going on but didn’t know what it was. Their zombie eyes slowly traveled the area of the bathroom, and I noticed that a few were sniffing the air like dogs.

  Poor Jen was crouched down in the corner, probably wondering what the hello I was doing, karate chopping the air and breaking imaginary necks. I’d figure out what to do with that mess later.

  Suddenly the sniffers were coming at me. My head was pounding, and the visions were coming back in waves – children crying, mouths open, wailing, crowds of people fighting, hurting each other… The pain was worse than anything ever. I wanted to pull my head off my shoulders just to make it stop.

  “Are you okay?” Jen’s shy voice sounded like it had traveled through a tunnel to my ears. I reached through the pain in my head and grabbed onto her pain, trying to focus on her, to do what Silas had told me. There she was, so slight she was almost hidden, in the corner of the bathroom, near a dirty sink. She looked so helpless, so needy, just begging for someone to tell her how valuable she was. I would be that person.

  As soon as I got rid of these nasty Darks.

  They were all over me now, stinking up my face and sliming my new Rocket Dog flip flops. Ruining my new kicks just wasn’t okay with me. I started ripping, tearing, throwing them off and twisting their necks. Demons all make the same sound when they die. First comes the surprised “whuh?” when they realize what’s happening, followed by a gurgling like the sound of Flarp slime when you push it back into its toy container.

  After hearing this sound again and again, snapping slimy necks and drop kicking wrinkly grey torsos, they were all finally, literally torn apart.

  I shook my head. Not until this moment had it occurred to me that no one ever really showed me how to do this. No one had prepared me to fight and kill disgusting demons. How did I even know I could twist their heads off or plow them into walls until they exploded from the force of little old me? It was instinctual for me. That was the only answer that made sense. Silas was right. I was made for this, and there really was no running away from it.

  Jen’s eyes were wide, staring wildly at me. She was shaking, either from the puking or just because she was totally freaked out. I knew the feeling. I went towards her, and she slunk backwards, hugging the corner.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not crazy.” Did I actually just say that? Way to convince her, Callie. That was exactly what a crazy person would say in this situation, wasn’t it? She probably was imagining herself, sliced and diced and packed up in my freezer. Great.

  I crouched down near her but tried not to get in her face. I didn’t want to scare her even more. “Jen,” I started, and I felt this wave of emotion in my chest for this beautiful girl who was desperate for affection, for love and acceptance. I put my hand on her shoulder, and maybe she could sense my feelings. She didn’t jump or back away this time. She looked up at me with deep set sad watery eyes. I brushed her stringy blonde hair behind her ear.

  “You are beautiful. Inside and out.” I told her. “I know when you look in a mirror you see a girl who wasn’t good enough to keep her Daddy around. I know you hurt, Jen.” Tears started flowing, and I wiped them aside with my fingers.

  “How do you know?” she sobbed.

  “Long story.” And good question, I might add. Weird, but the answers were there inside me. Couldn’t remember how they got there, but there they were. I sighed and plopped down, squeezing in next to her and putting my arm around her. “The thing is this – you really are special, Jen. And all the things that have happened in your life – the bad stuff – those things are trying to break the special in you. You can’t let them, because you are so precious.” I smiled at her, and she looked like she might believe me. “You have to get some help, okay?”

  She nodded. There was silence for a minute, and then she was staring at me. “Where did you come from?”

  Oh boy. Okay, Si, what’s the protocol here?

  “Just tell her it doesn’t matter. She won’t even remember that all of this happened.”

  Hmmm, Mr. Micro could hear my thoughts, it seemed when they were directed at him or about him. So, I didn’t have to
talk to him out loud when I needed coaching. Would have been nice to know that a couple of minutes ago.

  So, am I wasting my breath here, Silas? Should I keep talking or go home for lunch?

  “No, you’re not wasting your breath, Calliope. Your mere presence and words of encouragement will have a profound impact on this girl.”

  Okey. Dokey.

  “Jen, that’s not important. What’s important is that you realize that you are so valuable.” I tightened my grip around her shoulders and made her face me. “Somebody way bigger than you or me thinks you are amazing. He was willing to go through some pretty nasty stuff to save your butt. So, don’t waste His sacrifices and your life on this.” I motioned to the bathroom, the toilet, the mirror. “There are people out there who love you. Go and find them, figure out how to love yourself too.”

  I felt like it was time to go then. I stood up, gave her hair a tousle and started towards the door.

  “Hey,” she called.

  I stopped and turned my head around to look at her one more time.

  “I don’t know why, but I feel better… lighter or something.”

  Yeah, I knew why. Forty Darks were probably kind of heavy to lug around with you. Might drag you down a little.

  “Anyways, thanks.”

  And the smile she flashed at me was almost blinding. It was like sunshine pouring out of her onto me. I basked in it for just a moment and couldn’t help feeling proud.

  “Anytime.” I backed out of the bathroom stall, smiling at her smile until the door closed between us.

  Wow… that was the coolest feeling ever! Saving Jen from the Darks was one thing, but her smile was just heaven! This was an amazing high, addictive almost. I wanted to save somebody else right now just to feel the sunshine again.