REMEMBERME2

CHAPTERI

JEANRODRIGUESdidnotwanttobecomehermother.Anotquiteforty-yearoldwomanwithfivekids,
a dead husband lost to booze, working sixty hours a week at a coffee shop just to pay the rent on a
rundownhouseinthewrongpartoftownandtoputfoodinthemouthsofchildrenwhocouldnothave
caredlessabouther.MostofthetimeJeancouldn'tgiveadamn,notaboutschoolorworkorevenabout
herself. Yet sometimes she'd watch her mother as the woman got dressed for work, the lines of ruined
dreamsonherwearyface,andJeanwouldfeelsorryforher.She'dthink,Theremustbesomethingthat
wouldmakemymothersmile.TheremustbemoretolifethanwhatIseewaitingforme.

Yet Jean could never see that "more," and so she seldom smiled herself. Jean Rodrigues was eighteen
years old and it was two weeks before her high school graduation. Her father had been Mexican, pure
Aztec—atleastthat'swhatshewastold.Hermemoriesofhimwerefew;hehaddiedofpneumoniaand
heartfailurewhileshewasstillinfirstgrade.

Her mother—she wasn't positive what her mother was. Half Hispanic, a quarter Italian, two-thirds the
restoftheworld.Thenumbersandgenesneveraddedup.Jeansupposedthesamewastrueforher.

ButJeanknewshelookedgood,nomatterwhathergenepoolorhowbrokeshewas.Herlongdarkhair
was her glory. She wore it unadorned and straight down to her butt and washed it every night with an
herbal shampoo—one of the few luxuries she allowed herself. Her face was strong; relatives said she
took after her father. Her nose was big, but since her mouth was as well, the flaw only enhanced her
beauty.Shemayhavehadherfather'sfearlessexpression,butshehadhermother'sbody.Theywereboth
voluptuous.HerlookswereoneofthethingsJeanfeltgoodabout.Thereweresofewthings.

That-eveningwasawarmFriday.IfJeanhadreadthepaperscloselyandhadanexcellentmemory,she
wouldhaveremembereditwasexactlyfifty-twoFridaysafterthedeathofanothereighteen-year-oldin
another section of Los Angeles, a certain Shari Cooper. Like Shari of a year ago, Jean was in her
bathroompreparingtospendFridaynightatabirthdaypartyforafriend.HerfriendwasLennyMandez.
JeanhadbeendatingLennyforaboutthreemonthsandhadaspecialsurpriseforhimtonight.Itwasso
specialthatshewonderedifsheshouldlethimknowaboutitonanightreservedforcelebration.Shewas
sixweekspregnantwithhiskid.Mymothergotpregnantwithmewhenshewaseighteen.Thesamesad
story,alloveragain.Idon'twanttobecomemymother.

Jeanknewwhyshewaspregnant,besidestheobviousreasonthatshe'dhadsex.Sixweeksearlierwhen
Lenny and she had made love, their condom had broken. And there they were being so responsible,
practicingsafesexandall.

She'dbeenafooltobelieveallthathype,shethought.Theonlyhundredpercentsafesexwasbetween
BarbieandKen,andshe'dheardrumorstheyweren'tdoingitanymore.

Whatmadeitworsewasthatshewasn'tsureifLennyknewhowbadlythingshadmisfiredthatnight.She
worried that he might think the kid belonged to someone else. But it wasn't a huge worry—Lenny was
cool—not as huge as the kid growing inside her. She didn't know what to do. She didn't want to think
aboutit,sosheplannedtogetloadedthatnight.

Jean was brushing her hair when the car horn outside startled her, although she'd been waiting for it to

sound.Herbestfriend,CarolDazmin,wasdrivinghertotheparty.Jeandidnothaveacar.Shedidwork
after school and most weekends at a Subway Sandwich but only to supplement her mother's meager
incomeandtobuyclothesandpot.Notforacar.

Jeansmokedpotpracticallyeveryday;itwastheonlythingthatmadetheclocksonthewallsatschool
fun to watch. Carol got loaded with her, too, but spent her days staring at the other girls. Carol was a
lesbian,butsheneverhitonJeanoranythinganditwasOK.Infact,Carolwasanotherofthefewthings
inJean'slifethatcouldbecalledpositive.CarolwasoneofthekindestandfunniestpeopleJeanhadever
met.

Atthesoundofthehorn,Jeanjerkedherhandthewrongwayandendedupbreakingthehandleoffher
brush with it right in her hair. Even if she'd possessed a perfect memory and had read every paper in
town,Jeanwouldn'thaveknownthatShariCooperhadbrokenbrushesregularly.Jeanstaredattheplastic
handleinherhandbeforepullingtheclumpofbristlesfromherhair.Shehadneverbrokenabrushbefore.

Jeanleftthebathroomandwalkedintothelivingroom.Itwasgettingdark,butheryoungerstepbrothers
and-sisterswerestilloutsideplaying,evenfouryear-oldTeddy.TheonlyoneJeanreallyfeltcloseto
wasTeddy;theworldhadyettoruinhim.Asfortherest,shedidn'tcareiftheyevercameinside.Her
motherhadcrashedonthecouchinfrontofanold"StarTrek"rerunonTV.

Jean had no interest in science fiction or anything to do with space. She would just as soon the
governmentspentthemoneyonnuclearbombs.

"Hey,Mama,"Jeansaidsoftly,staringdownathermother."I'mknockedup.

Knockedupanddroppeddown."

Hermotherstirred.Herhairwasalreadygray;shecouldn'tbebothereddyingit.Shehadongreencoffee-
stainedpants,awhiteblouseshehadwornthepasttwodays.Herlipstickwasacheapcolor;itlookedas
ifshe'dputitoninfrontofadustywindshieldratherthanacleanmirror.Mostofallshelookedtired.

Shehadtobeupatfourtobeatworkontime.Jeanfeltthatsomehowshewasstandingbeforeamirroras
shestudiedher.

Hermotheryawned."Didyousaysomething,Jean?"

Jean hesitated. She'd have to tell her sometime. Or would she? Maybe Lenny would talk her into an
abortion.Orperhapshe'djusttakeheroutandshoother.Therewereallkindsofpossibilities,whenshe
thoughtaboutit.

"No,"Jeansaid."I'mgoingout."

Hermotheropenedhereyes."Whereareyougoing?"

"Lenny'shavingaparty.It'sathishouse."

"Willhisparentsbethere?"

"Hisparentsaredead,Mom.Itoldyouthat."

"Well,whowillbethere?Justyoukidsandacloudofsmoke?"

Jeanactedbored."Mom,nothinglikethat'sgoingtohappen."

Hermothersnorted."Yeah,likeitdoesn'thappeneveryday.Whatdoyoutakemefor,mija?Oneofyour
teachersatschool?"

"Idon'tknow."

"Whattimeareyoucominghome?"

"Midnight,maybealittlelater."

"Don'tyouhaveworktomorrow?"

"Yeah.I'llbethere.DoIevermiss?"

Hermothershookherhead."Idon'tknowwhatyoudoanymore,Jean.Exceptthatyoudon'tstayaround
heremuch.What'sthisLennylike?HaveImethim?"

"Youmethimlastweek."

Shescratchedherhead."Hewasn'tthatblackfella,washe?"

"Mom!He'sthesamecolorasyouandme.He'sagreatguy.Ilikehim.It'shisbirthdaytonight."

Hermothernodded.Shelikedbirthdays.TheywerenexttoAllSaintsdaysinherbook."What'dyouget
him?"hermotherasked.

Jeanhadpassedthetwo-minute-get-your-ass-ingearmark.Carolhonkedagain.Jeansteppedtowardthe
door,saying,"Igothimsomethingspecial.I'lltellyouaboutitlater.Don'tworryifI'malittlelate."

"Ifyoudon'tcomehome,I'llworry,"hermothercalledafterher.

Jeanopenedthedoorandsteppedoutsidethehouse,thesamehouseshe'dlivedinallherlife.Shedrew
in a deep breath of smog. North and south, east and west, her neighborhood was in the throes of a
holocaust.Hadbeensincethewordghettowasfirstused.

"Iwouldn't,"Jeanmutteredunderherbreath.

Carol had made herself up, much more than Jean had. Carol had on a tight black leather skirt, a long-
sleevedredblouse,fakesilverandgoldchains.Jeanworebluejeansandayellowshirt.Carolwasnot
butch;shelikedtoattractthegirlsasagirl.JeanknewCarol'sfantasy,DarleneSanchez,wouldbeatthe
party.JeanalsoknewCarolwaswastinghertimeonDarlene,whoneededguysthewayasmokingcar
needsaquartofoil.

But Darlene was not in a romantic mood these days. Her boyfriend, Sporty Quinones, had been gunned
downneartheprojectsinadrive-byonlytwoweeksago.Lennyhadbeenwithhimatthetime,buthadn't
been hurt. Sporty had taken three shots in the chest and bled to death in Lenny's hands. At the funeral,

Darlenehadnotbeensilentinhermourning;therewastoomuchfireinherblood.Evenastheylowered
Sportyintotheground,sheshoutedforvengeance.Thatwasthetroublewithdrive-byhits;theywerejust
gunspokedoutofdarkwindows.Thekillersdidn’tleavecards.Darlenesaidsheknewwhodidit.Lenny
didn'tknowhow;hesaidhedidn'tevenseethecar.

ThewholethingconfusedJean.Shedidn'tknowwhatthehelltheguysweredoingsoclosetotheprojects
in the middle of the night. That was like walking into a sewer pipe and asking not to get dirtied. She
missedSportyaswell;hehadbeenagoodfriend.Ifithadn'tbeenforLenny,shemighthavegoneoutwith
him.TheyhadfooledaroundalittleatsomeboringpartyjustbeforeLennyandshegottogether.

"Guesswhat?"CarolsaidasJeanclimbedintothecar.Carolhadaten-yearoldredCamarothathadonce
been hit by a school bus. It sounded like a tank under enemy fire, but it always started, which was the
importantthing.

"What?"Jeansaid,closingthecardoor.

"Youhavetoguess."Carolputthecaringearandtheyrolledforward.

"Idon'twanttoguess."

"Igotaskedouttoday."

"Whoaskedyouout?"Jeanasked.

"YouknowtheguywiththeRussianaccentattheMcDonald'sonHerald?"

"Thatguy?Hisfaceisscarred."

Carolgiggled;sheoftendid.Herlipswereglossy,hereyelidsneon.Shewasskinnyasawireplugged
intoashortedsocket.Shehadalotofenergy.ShecouldeattwoBigMacswithfriesatlunchbreakand
still do sit-ups in P.E. an hour later. She was pure Hispanic but wore so much white powder that she
lookedasifshewereauditioningforacircusclown.

"Whatdoyouthink?"Carolasked.

"Abouthisscars?"

"No!Abouthimaskingmeout.HeknowsI'malesbian,andhestillwantstogooutwithme.Doesn'tthat
makehimsomekindofpervert?"

"No.Ibethethinkshecanturnyouon.Areyougoingoutwithhim?"

"Idon'tknow.Itoldhimtocometothepartytonight.Doyouthinkhe'llcome?"

"Whydoyoukeepaskingmequestionslikethat?Idon'tevenknowtheguy."

Carolnoddedexcitedly."Ihopehecomes.ItmightmakeDarlenejealous."

"Iwouldn'tcountonit."

Carollosthersmile."Don'tyouthinkshelikesme—justalittle?Anddon'tsayyoucan'tanswerbecause
youdon'tknowher."

"Yes.IthinkDarlenelikesyou.Ijustdon'tthinkshewantstosleepwithyou.

God,Carol,thegirlisacompletehorndog.She'ssleptwithjustabouteveryguyatschool."

"Yeah.Butshe'sjustsufferedamajorpersonalloss.Thatcansometimesshakeupaperson'ssexuality.I
heardthaton'Oprah.'Therewasawomanontherewhodidn'tbecomealesbianuntilherhusband'shead
wascutoffbyahelicopterblade."

Jeangroaned."Oh,brother."

"Whatisit?"

"Ineedsomemota.Doyouhaveajoint?"

"Athome,notwithme.Butthere'llbeplentyofstuffattheparty.Can'tyouwait?"

"Isuppose."

"What'sbotheringyou,Jean?Youlooklikeyou'reworriedaboutyoursexuality."

"I'mpregnant."

"Qui?"

"I'mpregnant."

Carolalmostrammedthebackofabus."Wow!That'sbig.Whoseisit?"

Jean was disgusted. "What do you mean, whose is it? It's Lenny's. He's my boyfriend. What kind of
questionisthat?"

"Iwasjustasking.Ijustwantedtobesure.Wow.Whatareyougoingtodo?"

"Idon'tknow.WhatdoyouthinkIshoulddo?"

"Idon'tknow.Getridofit."

Jeanshookherhead."Justlikethat?Idon'tknowifIcandothat."

"Haveyoutoldhim?"

"Iwasthinkingoftellinghimtonight."

"Thatshouldlivenuphisparty."

"Shutup.MaybeI'lltellhimlater.Ihaven'teventoldmymomyet."

"Don'ttellyourmom.Shewon'tletyougooutanymore."

"I'llthinkaboutit,"Jeansaid.

"WhatdidyougetLennyforhisbirthday?Igothimabook."

"Whatkindofbook?"

"Idon'tknow.Ithadascarycoveronit.DoesLennylikescarystuff?"

"Idon'tthinkhe'sreadabookinhislife.Idon'tknowifhecanread."

Carollaughed."Iwasthinkingthesamething!IwasthinkingthisisthestupidestpresentIcouldpossibly
buyhim!That'swhyIboughtit.Whatdidyougethim?"

"Nothingsofar.Let'sstopattherecordstore.MaybeIcanbuyhimatape."

Carolsettledbackdown.ShereachedoverandtouchedJeanontheleg.Hervoicecameoutgentle.Jean
knewCarolwasnotasinsensitiveasshelikedtopretend.

"Ifyoudokeepthebaby,thenwecouldallplaywithit,"shesaid."Itmightnotbesobad.Itmightevenbe
fun."

Jeansighed."Nothing'sfunanymore."

CHAPTERII

LENNYMANDEZhadahilltophomewithaview.Unfortunately,thehouserestedonaweed-chokedplot
oflandbetweenaslumandaghetto.Thesurroundingareawascoveredwithagedoilwellsthatcreaked
sobadlyinthemiddleofthenightitsoundedasifthehousewereunderattackfromanarmyofarthritic
robots. The latest earthquake had actually made some of his neighbors' homes stand up straighten The
wholearealookedasifithadbeenthrowntogetherfortheexpresspurposeofviolatingeverycodeinthe
book.

Lenny'shomehadtwobedroomsforthecockroachesandabathroomfortherealnastycreatures.Still,it
wasn'tabadplacetohaveaparty,Jeanthought,aslongastherewasenoughboozeanddope.Fortunately,
thatwasneveraproblemwithLenny.Intoxicantsfollowedhimthewayantsbeatapathtothefoodacross
hiskitchenfloor.

Lenny Mandez was twenty, but if his age was measured by mileage rather than years, he was ready for
retirement.Hehadjoinedhisfirstgangwhilewalkinghomefromkindergarten.Hewasinjuvenilehall
forstealingacarhedidn'tknowhowtodrivewhenhewasthirteen.Butthattwo-yearstintinsidesobered
himsome,andLennyreturnedtopublicschoolandgraduatedfromhighschoollastyear.Hehadafull-
time job now, working as a mechanic at a gas station owned by an uncle. He owed allegiance to no
particulargang,buthadfriendsinallthewrongplacesandmadeasmuchmoneydealingdrugsashedid
tuningengines.

Jean knew he was trouble, she was no fool, but she took solace in the fact that he didn't like being a
pusher,anymorethanhelikedtheideaofreturningtoprison.Hetoldherthathewastryingtochange,and
shecouldseethathewas.Hetookacoupleofnightclassesatthecitycollege—generaledstuff.Hedidn't
knowwhathewantedtodowithhislifeanymorethanshedid.Theyhadthatincommon,atleast.

ShehadmethimthroughthelateSportyQuinones,who,attheageoftwenty,hadstillbeentryingtogeta
high school diploma. They had been introduced in the middle of the street, literally, and for a moment,
whenshe'dlookedintohisdarkeyes,sheforgotabouttheoncomingcars.Therewaspassioninhiseyes,
shesensed,aswellasdanger.Shewonderedifthat'swhatittooktoturnheron—thepossibilityofabad
end.Hehadagreatbody;shehadseenafewinherday.

He had heavy muscles, generous lips, and wore his straight black hair long onto his shoulders. He had
taken a hip tone with her. "Hey, baby, I heard about you. Heard you were hot. What do you say we get
togethertonight?"Ofcourseshehadtoldhimwheretostickit,andhehadlaughed,revertingtoamore
subduedtone,whichshewastolearnwasmorenormalforhim.Hehadtakenhertothemoviesthatnight,
and they had necked so hard in the back row they had turned a PG Disney film into a hard R erotic
mystery.ThatwaswhatshelikedmostaboutLenny—themystery.Evenaftersixweeksofdating,shestill
hadnoideawhathewasthinking.AtSporty'sfuneral,ashisbestfriendwasloweredintotheground,he
hadn't changed the expression on his face. He could have been staring at the sky for all the emotion he
showed.

JeanendedupgettingLennyaLosLobostape,whichheslippedintotheboomboxassoonassheand
Carolarrivedathishouse,andcrankedupthevolume.

Jeanassumedthatmeanthelikediteventhoughshehadn'thadachancetowrapit.Hegaveheraquick

kissandhandedherabeerandshesatonthecouchinthelivingroomwithabunchofpeopleshehardly
knew and the party moved forward as they always did. There was alcohol, pot, music, laughter, and
cursing.

SheandCarolcorneredahookahloadedwithColombianGoldnearthestartofthefestivitiesandeach
tookfourhitssodeepintotheirlungsthattheycouldfeeltheirbraincellsleavingonthesweetcloudof
smokeastheyexhaled.Theybothbegantolaughanddidn'tstopuntiltheyrememberedtheyhadnothingto
laughabout,whichwasanhourlater.Sothefirstpartofthepartypassedpainlessly.EventhoughJeangot
loadedregularly,marijuanaoftenhadanundesirablesideeffectonherpsychology.Themomentherhigh
begantofalter,hermoodsometimesplunged,sorapidlythatshefeltasifsheweresinkingintoablack
well.Inotherwords,thepotbummedheroutassurelyasitmadeherlaugh,andthiswasoneofthose
unfortunatetimeswhen,afteranhourofgiggling,shefeltclosetotears.Butsincesheseldomcried,and
neverinfrontofotherpeople,shejustgotrealquietandtriednottothink.Shedidn'twanttoknowshe
wasinaplaceshedidn'twanttobewithpeopleshedidn'tcareaboutandwhodidn'tcareabouther.That
herwholelifewasheadedinthewrongdirectionandthatitwasn'tgoingtochangebecausethatwasjust
thewaytheworldwas.Thatshewaspregnantanddidn'twantababyanddidn'twanttohaveanabortion
anddidn'twanttoenduplikehermother.

Itwasthislastthought,spinningaroundinherhead,thatcausedherthemostgrief.Andtheweirdthing
was, her mother was one of the few people in her life she actually respected. Come midnight, though,
whenthepartybegantothinout,andthedopebegantofilterfromherbloodstream,herdepressionlifted
sufficientlysothatshewasabletotalkagain.

AtthetimeshehappenedtobesittingontheendofLenny'sbedwatchingasDarleneSanchezusedthe
crackedmirrorprecariouslyattachedtothetopLenny'schestofdrawerstoreplaceafewloosebraids.
Darlene was Hispanic, but wanted to be black; a formidable task, to be sure, since she was naturally
whiter than Carol after makeup. Sporty Quinones had been Darlene's first non-African American
boyfriend,afactthatwassomewhatatoddswithherreputationofhavingsleptwithmostofthejuniors
andseniorsintheschool.

Butwhowascounting,colorsornumbers.Darlenewashot,nodebatingthat.

"Howareyoufeeling,girl?"Darleneasked,gazingatherinthemirror.

"I'mallright,"Jeansaid.

"Youlookedlikehellallnight."

"Thanksalot."

"No,Imeanyourmood."Darleneliftedafewstrandsofhairaboveherheadand,intheblinkofaneye,
braided them. Her braids made her look pretty scary when she wore them just right. Her long painted
fingernailswerejustasbad.TheyremindedJeanofrazorsdippedinblood.Darleneadded,"Youlook
likesomeonejustdied."

Jeanrealizedshehadacanofbeerinherhandandtookasip."Someonejustdid."

Darleneactedpissed."Great!Youhadtobringthatup.I'mheretohaveagoodtime,andyouhavetotalk

aboutSporty."

"Iwasn'ttalkingabouthim."Jeanshrugged."Inthistownsomeonediespracticallyeveryhour."

"Yeah,right.God,whatadowneryouare."

Jeanburped."Sorry."

Darlenewavedherhand."Itdoesn'tmatter.Idon'tmindtalkingabouthim.

We're going to talk about him later anyway. We're going to have a little meeting when the party's over,
LennyandI.Youshouldstayforit."

"Whatkindofmeeting?"Jeanasked.

"You'llsee."

"IcamewithCarol.Canshebethere?"

Darlene seemed exasperated. She could change her expression quicker than most people inhaled. "That
girl.Shedoesn'tknowwhatsheis.Doyouknowwhatshesaidtomethisevening?"

"Icanguess."

"Shesaid,'Youknow,Darlene,therearetwosidestoeverything.Youdon'tknowwhatbelongsonfront
untilyoucheckthebehind.'Canyoubelieveshesaidthattome?"

"Idon'tevenknowwhatitmeans."

"Itmeans,dopehead,thatshe'sstilltryingtogetinmypants.Lennytellsmeyou'restraightasanarrow.
Howcanyouhaveadykeasabestfriend?"

"It'seasy.She'snotadyketome.She'sagreatgirl."

Darlenepaused."Haveyoutwoeverdoneit?"

"Donewhat?"

"Hadsex,forgodssakes!Haveyou?"

"No.Carol'snotinterestedinmethatway."

"Whatissheinterestedinthen?"

"She'smyfriend.Sheneedsfriendsasmuchasstraightpeople.Maybemore.

Maybeyoushouldtrybeingherfriendratherthanalwaysbadmouthingher."

"Maybesheshouldquithittingonmefirst,"Darlenesaid.

"She'snothittingonyou.She'sjustflirtingwithyou.Youshouldbeflattered."

"I'mnot.Shemakesmenervous.ShemakesmefeellikeImightbeajotoandnotknowit."

"Maybeyouareajoto,Darlene."Jeanallowedherselfararesmile."Anybodywhogoesaroundwitha
headlookinglikeasnakefesthasgottohavesomethingwrongwithher."

Darlenelaughed."Hell,you'reprobablyright."Shefinishedwithherhairandturnedaround."HowdoI
look?"

"AmItherightpersontoask?Ijusttoldyou.Youlookgreat."

"Thanks.Youwanttogogetsomethingtoeat?"

"Youmean,leavetheparty?"Jeanasked.

"Yeah,Imeanleavetheparty.Youcan'teatanyoftherotinLenny'srefrigerator.WecanhittheJack-inthe
Boxdownthestreetandbebackintwentyminutes."

Jeanshookherhead."Yougoahead.Idon'tfeelveryhungry."

Darlenesatonthebedbesideherfriend,concerned.

"Really,areyouallright,Jean?"

Jeanshrugged."Yeah,I'mjusttired."

"AreyouandLennygettingonallright?"

"Yeah."Jeanpaused."Ithinkso.DoyouknowsomethingIdon't?"

Darlenehesitated."No."Shestoodquickly."I'llbebacksoon.Rememberthatmeeting.Iwantyouthere."

"Iwon'tbethereunlessCarol'sthere.She'smyridehome."

"Aren'tyougoingtospendthenightwithLenny?Itishisbirthday,afterall."

"No,"Jeansaid."Mymotherwouldfreak."

Darleneseemedtothinkforamoment,thennodded."That'swhatmothersarefor."

Darlene left. Jean continued to sit on the edge of the bed and sip her beer. She studied herself in the
mirror. It was only then she remembered the dream she'd had that morning. It had been wonderful yet
simple,painfultowakefrom.Shedreamedshewasfloatingaboveherhouseandthatjustafewblocks
awayshecouldseeacolorfulamusementpark,therainbowofshimmeringlightsilluminingherinsidesas
muchastheneighborhood.Thefeelingsofthedreamhadbeenmoreimportantthantheactualevents.She
knewthatifshewouldjustflyoverthere,shecouldenterthatplaceofconstantfunandexcitement.

Wheretherewerepeoplewhocaredandthingstodothatmeantsomething.

Andinthedreamshewasbeinggiventhatchoice,toleaveherhouse,herlife,andneverreturn.Whyhad
sheawakened?Shesureashellhadn'tsaidnototheoffer.Nowthememoryofthedreammadehersad.
Madehersadthatitwasgone,forever.

After some time Lenny entered his bedroom. He had on his black leather jacket; he seldom took it off,
evenonnightsaswarmasthis.Hislongblackhairwaspulledbackinaponytail.Theyhadtalkedlittle
allnight.

Conversationwasn'tbigwitheitherofthem.Theywerebetterjustsittingandwatchingamovietogether,
orsmokingajoint,ormakinglove.Shehadassumedthey'dhavesextonightsince,asDarlenesaid,itwas
hisbirthday.

Butnowshehadtowonderifshecouldtalkherselfintotherightmood.Lennysatonthebedbesideher
andleanedovertogiveherakiss.Shekissedhimback—sortof.Hesensedherlackofenthusiasmand
drewaway.

"What'swrong?"heasked.

"Nothing."Shetouchedhisleg."Howareyoudoing?"

"Good.Greatparty,huh?"

"Yeah.Thatwasgreatdope.Wheredidyougetit?"

Heshrugged."Theusualsources.WheredidDarlenego?"

"ToJack-in-the-Box.Shewashungry."

"Wehavepizzainthelivingroom,"Lennysaid.

Jeanforcedasmile."It'sonthelivingroomfloor.IthinkDarleneworriesabouthygiene."

Lennychuckled;itsoundedforcedaswell."ThenIdon'tknowwhatshewasdoingwithSporty.Thatguy
hadequipmentthatneededtobemachinedtogetclean."

"Washethatbad?"

Lennypausedandstaredather."Idon'tknow.Hejusttoldmesomanystories."

"Aboutsomanygirls?"

Lennynodded."Yeah.Youmusthaveseenhowhecarriedonatschool?"

"Yeah,hegotaroundsome,Iguess.WhenDarlenewasn'taround."

"Buttheyweren'tgoingoutthatlong,"Lennysaid.

"Really?Ithoughtitwasafewmonths."

Lennycontinuedtowatchher."Something'sbotheringyou,Jean.Whatisit?"

Sheloweredherhead."Well,thereissomethingIwantedtotellyou.Ishouldhavetoldyouearlier,butI
wasafraid.ButIdon'tknowifthisistherighttime,either."

Lenny sucked in a deep breath and became still. She sensed his rigidity more than saw it because she
continuedtokeepherheadlow.Finallyheletthebreathout.

"Yes?"hesaidsoftly.

"I'mpregnant."

Thetwowordsseemedtofloatoutofhermouthandintoavacuum.Theroombecameabowlsittingon
sometroll'stable,andtheywerebreakfast.SheraisedherheadandsawthatLennyhadclosedhiseyes.A
veinpulsedonhisforehead.Itlookedasifitmightpopifthepressurewasn'treleasedsoon.Shewanted
to say something to make him feel better like I'll get rid of it or maybe the test kit was wrong. But she
doubtedhewouldhaveheardheratthatmoment.Hismindseemedtohavefledtoaplacewherethere
werenowords.

Finally,though,heopenedhiseyesandlookedather.Hisexpressionwasstrangelyblank.

"Areyousure?"heaskedsoftly.

"Yes."Shepaused."I'msorry.Lousybirthdaypresent,huh?"

"I'vehadbetter.Whatdoyouwanttodo?"

"Idon'tknow.Whatdoyouwanttodo?"

"It'suptoyou."

"No,it'suptobothofus."Shefeltapainfullumpinherthroat.Shehadtakenherhandoffhisleg,andshe
wantedtoputitback,tohughim,maybekisshimagain.Buttheywereliketwostrangerssittinginacheap
motelroom.Atleastthatwashowthetwopeopleinthecrackedmirrorlooked.

Jeanregrettedhavingstartedtheconversationinfrontoftheirreflections.Itmadeherfeelmorelost.How
didshereallyfeelaboutLenny?Shehadtoldhimshelovedhim;hehadtoldherthesame.Butthosewere
justwords.Shedidn'tbelieveshecouldlovehimbecauseshedidn'tknowwhatlovewas.Shedidn'teven
knowiftherewassuchathing,ifitwasn'tallhype.Sheadded,"Wecankeepitorwecangetridofit.I'm
notgoingtoforceitonyou."

"Howmuchdoesanabortioncost?"heasked.

"Threehundreddollars.About."

Hesmiledthinlyandshookhishead."That'smuchalana.YouwereraisedCatholic.Couldyougothrough
withanabortion?"

Shesighed."Idon'tknow."Hisnextquestioncaughtheroffguard.

"Whatdoyouthinkhe'dlooklike?"heasked.

Shehesitated."Bueno.Likethetwoofus.Butitmightbeashe,youknow."

"HaveyoueverseenpicturesofmewhenIwasababy?"

"No.Youhaven'tshownmeany."Shepaused."I'dliketoseesome."

"No,youwouldn't.Ilookedawful.Butmaybehewouldlook—better."Hestoodandeyedthedoor.

"Let'stalkaboutthislaterwhennoone'saround.RightnowIhavetoenjoymytwentiethbirthdayparty.
It'stheonlyoneI'mevergoingtohave."

"Losiento,I'msorry,"shesaidagain.

"Don'tbesorry,"hesaidashelefttheroom.

NinetyminuteslaterJeanwassittinginthelivingroomwithLenny,Carol,andDarlene.AfterLennyhad
lefther,Jeanhadfallenbackonthebedandpassedoutforanhour.Shehadn'tdreamed,onlyentereda
blackvoidwheretherewasnosoundorfeelingandsleptthesleepofthedead.Shedidn'tevenknowwho
shewaswhensheawakenedinthedark.Thedisorientationhadlingered.

Whohadturnedoffthebedroomlight?Shedidn'tknowanditdidn'tmatter.

Thefourofthemweretheonlyonesleftattheparty.JeansatonthecouchwithLenny.Carolwasonthe
floor, acting bored. Her Russian boyfriend had never shown. Darlene, as usual, paced. Darlene wanted
revenge,shewantedblood.HerlittlemeetingwasaboutplanningahitonSporty'smurderers,specifically
onJuanChiato.

Juanwasthebiggestdrugdealerattheirhighschool,althoughhehadn'tbeentoclassintenyears.Hewas
twenty-one years old, high up in the Red Blades, one of the most vicious of the inner city gangs. Jean
knew Juan by sight; she had met him twice at Lenny's house. He'd been leaving as she went in. Out of
necessity,LennysaidheoccasionallyhadtodealwithJuan,althoughLennyclearlydidnotliketobein
the same room as Juan, who was known for his violent temper. But Juan had direct contact with
Colombiandruglordsandpracticallysetthepriceofcocaineintheirneighborhood.Hisfacewasbadly
scarred from knife fights. Jean thought he looked like one of Satan's first lieutenants. She hadn't known
SportywasconnectedtoJuan,butshesupposedshe'dbeenmistaken.

"LetmetellyouwhyIknowitwasJuan,"Darlenesaidasshestrodebackandforthinfrontofthem,a
cigaretteinherhand."TheweekbeforeSportydied,hetoldmeaboutadealhehadgoingwithJuan.You
didn'tknowaboutit,Lenny.

SportytoldmeJuanhadswornhimtosecrecy.Anyway,Sportytoldmeaboutitbecausehecouldnever
keephismouthshutwhenhewasdrunk.Ithadnothingtodowithdrugs.Juanhadstolenatruckloadof
Levi's jeans. He had slipped onto a freight company's lot with a gun and put the barrel to the security
guard'sheadanddrivenawaywiththetrailer.HewantedtouseSportytosellthejeanstocertainstores.
Sportywasgame.Thecommissionlookedgood,andhethoughtdealingwithstoreownerswouldbealot
morepleasantthanthejerksthathungaroundJuan.Butwhathedidn'tknowwasthatJuanwasjustusing
him.ThestoreshesentSportytopaidprotectiontotheBaldCaps.Youknowthem?"

Lennynodded."Cierto.They'reasmallgang,buttheycontrolmuchofdowntown,especiallyaroundthe
conventioncenterandtheskyscrapers.WhydidJuanwanttopissthemoff?"

"IaskedSportythat,"Darlenesaid."HethoughtmaybeJuanwastryingtosetsomethingupbetweenthe
Red Blades and the Bald Caps. Juan was trying to move up in the Blades, and he was impatient. He
wantedsomeactionthathecouldlead,showtheothershowstronghewas.Hewantedafight.Hesent
Sportyout,nottoselljeans,buttostartawarwiththeBaldCaps.RightawaySportyranintotrouble.The
Capscorneredhimandthreatenedtocutouthisheartfordaringtoentertheirterritory.Theystolehisvan
fullofjeans.SportywentrunningbacktoJuanandtoldhimwhathadhappened,butJuandidn'twantto
hearaboutit.HegaveSportyanultimatum—eitherhegotthejeansbackorhewasgoingtocutouthis
heartSportyyelledathim,saidhehadjustbeensetup.ThenSportymadeabigmistake.HetoldJuanhe
wasthinkingofgoingtothepolicetotellthemthewholestory."

"No,"Lennysaid,shakinghishead."Hewouldn'thavebeenthatesttipido."

Darlenepausedinherpacing."Sportywasprettystupidsometimes.IcansaythatbecauseIlovedhim.I
asked him how Juan reacted, and he said Juan didn't say anything, which we all know is not the best
responsetogetfromabloodthirstysonofabitchlikeJuanChiato.Itellyou,Sportywasscared.Hehada
righttobescared."Darlenenodded,hereyesburning.

"Thatallhappenedfourweeksago,andnowlookwhat'shappened.Sporty'sdead.Juankilledhim,there's
nodoubtaboutit.Wehavetokillthebastard."

Theroomwassilentforafullminute.Jeandidn'tknowwhattosay.ItdidsoundlikeJuanwasprobably
theculprit,butwhoinhisrightmindwouldtakerevengeagainstsomeonewhohadawholegangathis
back? The Red Blades would reearn their name hunting down and slaughtering whoever touched Juan.
Andiftheyjusthappenedtomurderafewwhowereonlyguiltybyindirectassociation,thensomuchthe
better.

JeanregrettedhavingaskedifCarolcouldstayforthemeeting.Sittingontheflooragainstthewall,Carol
lookedfullofregrets.Darlenemusthavebeenloadedtobetalkingaboutsuchthingssoopenly.Yetshe
appearedinfullcommandofhersenses.ItwasLennywhospokefirst,andJeanwassurprisedwhenhe
didn'tdismissDarlene'sproposaloutright.

"Ican'tunderstandwhySportydidn'ttellmehewashavingtroublewithJuan,"hesaid."Heshouldhave
cometomerightaway,beforehetriedtosellanyjeans.Iwouldhavetoldhimtostayasfarawayashe
couldfromtheguy."

"Hewantedtomakehisownmark,"Darlenesaid.

"Hewantedtomakehisownmoney.Sportygottiredoflivinginyourshadowandwantedtodosomething
aboutit."

Lennyshifteduncomfortably."Hepickedabadwaytogoaboutit."

"We'vealreadyestablishedthathewasn'tthemostintelligentguyontheplanet,"Carolsaid.

"Shutup,"Darlenesaid."Icansaythosethings,butyoucan't.Youdidn'tlovehim."

Carolmadeaface."Ihardlyknewhim."

"Let'ssay,forthesakeofargument,thatitwasJuan,"Lennysaid."Ifwewanthimdead,wehavetodoit
ourselves.Anyoneelsewilltalktosomeoneelse.

Andifwedokillhim,it'sgottolooklikesomeoneelsedidit.BecausethesecondJuan'sBladebuddies
find his body, they're going to guess it was either Darlene or me who was behind it because we were
Sporty'sbestfriends."

"Ihopeyou'renotsuggestingthatithastolooklikeanaccident,"Carolsaid.

Lennyshookhisheadimpatiently."IfJuanhasadozenbulletsinhim,itcan'tlooklikeanaccident."

"Wecouldrunhimover,"Darlenesuggested.

"Itmightbebettertoblowhimup,"Lennysaid.

"Thelessleft,thebetter."

Jeanfeltcompelledtospeak."Waitasecond.Whatarewetalkingabouthere?

Sporty'sdeadandthat'sterrible.Butwecan'tavengehisdeath,especiallyifitwasJuanwhokilledhim.
Hisgangwillknowwhodiditnomatterhowyouplanit.They'llkillusall."

"Whywouldtheykillyou?"Lennyasked,anoddnoteinhisvoice.

"BecauseIwasSporty'sfriend,too,"Jeansaid,annoyedatthequestion.

"Because I'm here with you guys talking about this foolish plan. You can't go up against someone that's
highupinagang.It'sjustnotdone.Youknowthat,Lenny.WhyareyouevenlisteningtoDarlene?"

Lennyheldhereyebeforeanswering,hisfacedark.Hehadn'tappreciatedherremarks."BecauseIwas
his friend. A real friend doesn't do nothing after his friend's gunned down. I was there. He died in my
arms."

Jean returned his stare. When angered, few people intimidated her. "What were you two doing at the
projectssolateatnight?"sheasked."SoclosetoJuan'shomeground?"

Lennydidn'tblink."Ididn'tknowaboutSporty'sproblemswithJuan.Isaidthatalready."

"Butthatdoesn'tanswermyquestion,"Jeansaid.

"Atnightthatpieceofturfisadeathzone."

"Noone'saskingyoutobeinvolved,Jean,"Darlenesaidbitterly."IjustthoughtsinceSportyalwaystold
mewhatagreatgirlyouwerethatyou'dwanttobeinonthepayback."

"Whatpaybackisthatgoingtobe?"Jeanasked,hervoicehot"KillJuanandliveinfeareverysecond

untiltheycomeforus?Andwho'stosaythey'llsimplyshootus?Theymighttortureusfirst.Youheard
aboutwhathappenedtothatteenagebookiethatthepolicefoundonMain?Duringtheautopsytheyfound
apillowcaseinhisstomach.Doyouknowhowscaredsomeonehastobetoswallowapillowcase?Oh,
anddidIforgettomentionthathisthroathadbeencutfromeartoear?ThatwasdownonMain,Darlene
RedBladeterritory,Juan'splayingground."

"Wasitawholepillowcase?"Carolasked.

"Oh,wouldyoushutup,"Jeansaidthistime.

DarleneglaredatJean."Ithoughtyouweremorethanachickenbitch.IguessIwaswrong."

JeanturnedtoLenny,herboyfriend,thefatherofherunbornchild.Hestillhadn'tansweredheroriginal
question.Earliershehadbeenrighttothinkofhimasastranger.Lookingathisdark,coldmasklikeface,
she hardly recognized him. And to think, she had made love to him only two days before on this very
couch.No,shehadhadsexwithhim—therewasadifference.

"Howcanyoulethertalktomethatway?"sheasked."Thisisyourhouse.Kickherout.Youknowshe's
talkingcrap.Youknowthiswholemeetingisinsane."

Lennytookhistimeanswering.Somethingonthefloorbetweenhislegshadhimfascinated.Itmusthave
beenthedirtbecausethatwasallthatwasthere.

Theheavyburdensonhisattention—thefilthandherrequest.Finallyhespoke,hisheadstilldown."You
justdidn'tcareabouthimthewaywedid.Youcan'tunderstand."Heshrugged,adding,"Wecan'tletJuan
getawaywithit."

Jeanjumpedupfromthesofa,feelingthebloodsuffuseherface."Icaredabouthimmorethananyofyou
know!Iknewhimbeforeanyofyouknewhim!Buthe'sdead,andit'sreallysad,butwhydowehaveto
diewithhim?Whydoweevenhavetotalkaboutkillingpeople?"Herthroatchokedwithemotion;her
voicecameoutcracked."Whydoweevenhavetolivelikethis?"

Jeandidn'twaitforananswertoherpainfulquestions.Sheranfromthelivingroom,intothebedroom,
andoutontoLenny'sbalcony.

The platform was a haphazard affair, a collection of splintered planks thrown on top of a randomly
spaced group of termite-zapped wooden stilts. Yet the drop to the ground was substantial: thirty feet
straightdown.Jeanheardtheboardsoftherailingcreakassheleanedagainstthem.Theviewwaspretty
at least, if you liked smelly oil wells and rundown houses that doubled as fear-infested fortresses. The
downtownskyscraperswerevisible,farinthedistance;darktowerswithdotsoflightinablearyhazeof
pollutants.Really,Jeanthought,itwasallthesamenomatterwhichdirectionsheturned.Itwasn'tacity,
itwasadyingmonster.Shewantedittodie.Shewantedthebigbombstofall,theredmushroomclouds
to form. She didn't know why she had argued so passionately for life when she felt so little life in her
heart.

Itwasironicthateversincetheseedofanewhumanbeinghadstartedgrowinginherbodyshehadfelt
moreandmorelikeendingitall.Notsuicide,no,butsomethingclosetoit.Somethinglikeacontractthat
could be entered into without serious penalties. Not a devil's contract certainly, more like a person-to-

personhandshakeandapatonthebackandanunderstandingthatitwasOK.Thatitwouldbeallright.I
did the best I could, God, but it wasn't good enough. But I don't hate you and I don't hate myself. I just
don'tknowwhatthehellI'mdoing.Help,please,helpme.

Standing on the creaky balcony, time passed for Jean Rodrigues. How much time, she didn't know. But
somewhereinthesandatthebottomofJeanRodrigues'sfallenhourglass,thecolorsofthenighttimecity
altered.Thedullyellowsturnedtobluesandthesoberredstofreshgreens.Theintensityofthelightgrew
aswell,asoneafteranothertinycandleswerelitindarkcornersabovehomesthathadneverbeenbuilt
andatopskyscrapersthatwouldneverfall.

Theshiftwassubtleatfirst,andshedidn'tknowitwasevenhappeningtoheruntilshesuddenlyfound
herself staring out upon a landscape bathed in pulsing light. It was only then that she realized she was
backinherdream,beinggiventhechanceagaintoliftupherarmsandfly,overthewallandintotheland
wherethewishesandthewisherwereone.Itwasachanceshewasnotgoingtopassuptwice.There,she
thought eagerly, there, make me immortal. Happy at last, still leaning against the railing, she lifted her
arms.

ButJeandidnotfly,thehumanbodycouldnot.Thefloorofthebalconyabruptlyvanishedfrombeneath
herfeetandshefellinstead.Headfirsttowardagroundthattookforevertoreach.Yettheplungewasnot
terrifying,asShariCooper'sfallfromabalconyoneyearearlierhadbeen.Thecontractwassignedand
sealed. It wasn't suicide but an accident. Or at the very least someone else's fault. There would be no
penaltyforJeanRodrigues.Therewouldbenomorepain.

CHAPTERIII

FLOATINGDOWNSTREAMinaboatonariver,youcanseeonlyalittlewayinfrontofyou,alittle
waybehind,thenearbyshore,andifyou'reluckyandtheriverisn'tlinedwithtrees,maybeafar-offfield
or house. But if you go up in a plane and look down at the river, you can see the entire course of the
waterway.Youcanseewhereitbegan,andyouknowwhereitwillend.Inasense,theaerialviewislike
beinggivenavisionofthefuture,atleastasfarasthelifeoftheriverisconcerned.

Deathisavisionthatneverdies.Iamsupposedtobedead,butIexperiencetheentiretyofmylifeasifit
wereallhappeningatonce.IfloatabovetheriverofpersonalitythatwasonceShariAnnCooper.Iknow
her, I am her, but I am something else now as well, something blissful. Even as I poke into the dark
cornersofmylife,myjoydoesnotleaveme.Itisseparatefrompersonalitiesandevents.Myjoyiswhat
Iamandhasnoname.

IdidmanythingsinmyeighteenyearsonplanetEarth.Iwasborn.Ilearnedtowalk,totalk,tolaugh,and
tosing.Ilearnedtocryaswell,andIchasedboys.Ievengotlaidonce.Iwaspopular.Myjunioryear,
minewasvotedthebestsmileinthewholehighschool.ButfewofthethingsthatIconsideredimportant
onEarthinterestmenow.

As I view the whole of my life, a seemingly insignificant event holds my attention. I was sixteen years
old.Therewasagirlinmybiologyclasswhowasdeaf,notacrimeinitself,butshewashomelyaswell.
Thoseweretwobigstrikesagainstherwithmyfriends,andtwostrikeswerecompletelyunforgivablein
thosedays.Nooneevertalkedtoher—Ididn'teither—oreventhoughtabouther,exceptoccasionallyto
wonderwhyshewasn'tinaspecialschool.Itneveroccurredtomethatshemightbeabravesoultrying
toliveanormallifedespiteherhandicap.

Therewasoneday,though,asIwasleavingbiologyclassafterthebellhadrung,thatInoticedthegirl
washavingtroublefindingherglasses.Ontopofeverythingelseshecouldn'tseewellandIknewthatshe
wouldsometimesremoveherglasseswhiletheteachertalkedandjustsitwithhereyesclosed,trying,so
itseemedtome,toabsorbthelessonbyosmosis.Ididn'tknowatthetimethatsomeonehadswipedher
glasses, but I did know she was going to have a hard time making it to her next class without them. I
walkedoverandgentlytappedherontheshoulder.Iscaredher,madeherjump,andimmediatelyfeltbad
aboutit.Butshesmiledquicklyatmeaftershe'drecoveredandsquinted.Iwasn'tsurehowmuchofme
shecouldsee.

"Hi,"Isaid."CanIhelpyou?"

Sheleanedforward,closertomymouth,andgesturedformetorepeatmyself.

Irealizedshewasreadingmylips.Iputmyfacerightinfrontofhersandaskedmyquestionagain.This
timeshenoddedvigorously.Shegesturedthatshecouldn'tfindherglassesandifIwouldhelpherlook
forthem.Ididn'thavetolooklongtorealizesomeonemusthavetakenthem.Imean,itwasn'tlikethere
werealotofhidingplacesonaschooldesk.Iplacedmyfaceinfrontofhersagain.

"Lost,"Isaid."Gone.Stolen.Iwillhelpyou."

Thenewsseemedtotakeheraback,butonlyforamoment.Shenodded,collectedherbooks,andstood

up.Sheofferedmeherarm;clearlyIwouldhavetotouchhertohelpleadhertohernextclass.Ididn't
mind,althoughatthattime—thatweekIthinkitwas—itwassomethingofataboototouchanyoneofthe
samesex.Infact,Iwashappytohelpher.VeryhappyIhadfinallystoppedtospeaktoher.Hernamewas
Candice,butshesaidtocallherCandyinheruninflected,flatspeech.Ihelpedheraroundforthenexttwo
dayswhileshewaitedfornewglassestoarrive.Weneverdidfindoutwhathappenedtotheoriginalpair.
DuringthattimeIlearnedtosignquiteafewwords.Webecamefriends,andIlearnedsomethingelseas
well—that life was good even when it was hard. That hidden beauty was much greater than physical
beauty.Candycouldnothearourteachers,shecouldhardlyseethem.Butshetaughtmemorethananyof
themhad.IwassadthedayIheardshewouldbecomingtoschoolnomore.Shehadendedupreturning
toaspecialschoolfordeafkids,afterall.Imissedher.

ButwhatIdidn'tknowatthetimewasthatfromthemomentthethoughtoccurredtometohelpCandy,and
allthetimeIwaswithher,tidalwavesoflightandenergyrolledfrommeandspreadoutovertheentire
universe,to the farthestplanet circling theloneliest star in themost distant galaxy.I touched that much.
ButIcouldonlyseethesewavesasIreviewedmylifewhenmylifewasover.Mygoodgrades,mygood
looks—noneofthathadmattered.Noneofithadaffectedthecreation,butmysimpleactofserviceand
kindness had been like a miracle. And the strange thing was that I had helped Candy only because I
wantedto.Because,foronce,Ihadstoppedthinkingofmyselfandthoughtonlyofsomeoneelse.

AsIwatchedthebeginningandthemiddleandtheendoftheriverofShariCooper,Icouldseethenthe
answertooneofourage-oldriddles.Doeslovesurvive?Yes,Ithought,somewhereinsomeplaceitis
savedandmadesacred.

IhadnotknownhowmuchloveCandyhadgiventome,andhowmuchIhadgiventoher.Ihadknown
nothing.

"Good,"avoicesaid.

Iopenedmyeyesandfoundmyselfsittingonagrassybankonasunnydaybesideagentlyflowingstream.
Thestillairwaswarm,fragrant,radiantwithlightandgoodfeelings.Inthedistanceweretrees,snow-
capped mountains, but no houses, no roads. I was in paradise but I wasn't alone. Beside me sat an
extraordinaryman.

Heappearedtobethirtyyearsold.Hehadanaustereface,hollowcheeks,deepsetblueeyes,asoftsmile.
It was difficult to specify his race. His skin was a deep coppery color, he could have been an ancient
Egyptianpriestcometolifebeforeme.Perhapshewas,Ithought.Heworeabluesilkrobe.Ihadonthe
sameclothesIhaddiedin:greenpantsandayellowblouse.Iwasgoingtohavetochangeoneofthese
days,Ithought.Mysurroundingswerepervadedbypeace,buttheman'saurawasevenmoretranquil.I
hadnomemoryofseeinghimbefore,yetIfeltasifIhadknownhimalongtime.Hissmilewidenedatmy
thought.

"Verygood,Shari,"hesaid.Likehissmile,hisvoicewassoft,yetitcarriedgreatauthoritybehindit.

HewasnotsomeonewithwhomIwouldhaveargued.

Ismiled."Canyoureadmymind?"

"Yes.Doyouwantmetostop?"

"Itdoesn'tmatter.YouwerewithmeasIreviewedmylife.Ifeltyou."

"Yes.Howdoyoufeelabouthowyoudid?"

"Likeafool."

"That'sagoodwaytofeel.Onlyafoolcangetintoheaven."

"Isthatwhereweare?DidImakeit?"

"Ijokewithyou.Allthisyouseeisjustathought.Youcreatedthisplacebecauseyoustillfeeltheneedto
occupyacertainspaceandtime.Peopleusuallycarrythathabitwiththemwhentheycrossover.Itisto
beexpected;itisfine.Butyoudon'tneedtotalktomewithabody.Whenyoufeelcomfortable,youmay
dropit."

Irubbedmylegswithmyopenpalms.TheyfeltthesameastheyhadonEarth.

"I'mstillsortofusedtothisbody."Ipaused,troubled."ButIsupposeit'sreallybackonEarthrottingina
gravesomewhere."

"Isthatreal,Shari?Afterallyouhaveexperienced,wouldyousaythatanypartofyoucouldrot?"

Ifrowned."I'mnotsureIunderstand.IdoknowIhaveasoulandthatitsurviveddeath.Ilearnedthatthe
hardway.Butmybodydied.It'sstillonEarth.Isawthemburyit.Iwenttomyownfuneral."

"Iwasthere."

"Really?Youshouldhaveintroducedyourself.Whatisyourname?Doyouhaveone?"

"Youmaycallmebyaname."Heconsidered."CallmetheRishi.Rishimeans

'seer.'WhenIwasinaphysicalbody,peopleoftencalledmethat."

"Soyou'vebeenonEarth?"

"Yes.We'reonEarthnow,Shari."

Iwasamazed.Ilookedaround."AreweinSwitzerland?"

Helaughedsoftly."WeareinanotherdimensionofEarth.Buttheseconcepts—

distance, space, time they have no meaning for you now, unless you give them meaning. You're free of
thoselimitations.Youcanbeonanyworldintheuniversejustbywishingit."

Hiswordsmademesmile."HowisPeter?Whereishe?"

"Notfar.You'llseehimsoon."

"Good.Imean,don'tgetmewrong,Ilikebeingherewithyou,butIwanttoknowwhyyou'reherewith
me.Whatourrelationshipis."Istopped."AmIaskingtoomanyquestions?"

"I'm here to take your questions. When people first cross over, they often go through a question-and
answer period like this. But understand that not all your questions can be answered with words. Our
relationship is a beautiful thing. We are, ultimately, the same person, the same being. But if that is too
abstractaconceptforyou,thenthinkofahugeoversoulmadeupofmanysouls.Throughoutmanyliveson
manyworlds,thesedifferentsoulslearnandgrow.Eachlifeislikeadayinclass,andasyouknow,some
peopledobetterinclassthanothers,butallwillgraduateiftheykeepgoing."Hepaused."Weareapart
ofthesameoversoul,Shari."

"Butyou'vealreadygraduated?"Iasked.

"Yes."

"Towhere?Towhat?"

Hegesturedaroundhim."Toallthatis.ToGodifyoulike.Iseeyoursurprise,butitisso.Yes,Iamwith
GodnowasIspeaktoyou.IseeyouasmyGoddess."Hereachedoverandtouchedmyhand,hisfingers
warm,soothing.

"Youareverydeartome,Shari."

IfeltsolovedthenIbegantocry.HewaslikemybigbrotherJimmy.Ormyfathereven,myrealfather,
whomIhadneverknown.IrealizedthenthatevenwhenIhadbeenalivehehadbeenwithme,justoutof
sight,helpingme,guidingme.Itmeantsomuchtometobeabletoseehimagainwithmyeyes.Ifeltasif
finallyIhadcomehome.Iclaspedhishandinmine.

"Willyoustaywithme?"Iasked.

"Yes.AlwaysIamwithyou."

Ilaughed,Ifeltsofoolishforweeping."Wow.Whowouldhavethoughtitwouldbelikethis?"

"ThatyouwoulddieandendupinSwitzerlandwithanancientEgyptianpriest?"heaskedwithatwinkle
in his eye. "I was in Egypt a long time ago as people on Earth measure time. I am there now. I teach
besidethepyramids.

PeoplecallmeMaster."

Iwasfascinatedthathecouldbeinmanyplacesatthesametime,evenashelivedoutsideoftime."What
doyouteach?"Iasked.

"Hmm.Bigquestion.Iwillgiveashortanswer."Heconsideredforamoment.

"TheteachingsofaMasterappeardifferentindifferenttimes.Theneedsofthetimeandtheplacevary.
WhenyouwerealivefewwouldhavesaidthewordsofBuddhamatchedthoseofKrishnaorJesus.But
inessencetheyallsaidthesamething—thatthereisoneGodandthatweareallpartofhim.Thatitis
importanttorealizethisgreattruthwhileweareonEarth.Butovertimethemessagebecomesdistorted.
PeopletakeGodoutofmanandputhimupinanimaginaryheaven,whereheisofnousetoanyone.Or
else they found a religion based on the worship of a particular Master. Yet Buddha never founded
Buddhism.ChristneverfoundedChristianity.Krishnahardlyspokeaboutreligionatall.Hewastoobusy

dancingandplayinghisflute.Hewastooecstatictobedogmatic.IamveryhappynowasIspeaktomy
followers in ancient Egypt. But I know a short time after I vanish from their view they will begin to
squabbleoverwhatIreallysaidandwhatIreallymeant.Evennowtheyquarrelamongstthemselves.I
have to laugh—it is natural that a Master should speak from his level of consciousness but that his
followersshouldhearthewordsattheirlevel.Alongtimeago,asmortalsarefondofsaying,theRishi
wasalsoworshipedastheonlysonofGod.Butwealldeservethattitle,don'tyouthink?"

Inodded."Howaboutsaying'thedaughterofGod'?"

"Verygood.Youunderstand,Iamnotsayingreligionisbad.Whereitturnsmenandwomeninwardand
helpsthemrealizethattheyareasgreatasthecreatorwhocreatedthem,thatthereisanoceanofloveand
silencedeepwithintheheart,thenitisuseful.Butwhereitdividespeopleagainstoneanother,whereone
personisledtobelieveheissavedandanotherisdamned,orwhereitleadsapersontothinkthattrue
happinesswillbefoundonlyinanafterlife,thenitisharmful.EachlifeonEarthisveryprecious.Icalled
eachoneadayinclass,butifyouarewise,ifyougodeepinside,youcangoallthewaytothegoalin
justonelife."Hepaused."It'sawonderfulthingtobealive."

Isatupwithastart."That'salinefromthestorythatIwrotebeforeIleft."

"Iknow."

"Didyouhelpmewritethatstory?"

"Yes.Andithasnotbeenlost.Yourbrothersavedit.Hereaditandbelievesittobetrue.Itmeansmuch
tohim.Hekeepsitsafe."

There were tears in my eyes again. "That was my last wish before I left. To be remembered. How is
Jimmy?"

"He'sfine.Hethinksaboutyouoften."

Idabbedatmyeyes."WhatIwouldn'tgivetoseehimagain,totellhimI'mallright."Istoppedandshook
myhead."HereIaminparadisewithyouandI'mstillcomplaining.IguessI'llneverlearn.Ican'tseehim
untilhediesandIdon'twanthimtodieuntilhe'sanoldman.IguessI'llhavetowait."

TheRishitookhishandback.Hestaredatmewithhisbeautifuleyes—thecoloroflimitlesssky.Isensed
thejoybehindthem,butalsothepowerofeternity.IknewIwassafeinhiscompany,yetsomethinginhis
expressionmademeshiver.Hewasasgentleasanangel,butIsensedhecouldalsobeasfirmasaking.I
wasstillinclass,Irealized.Hewastheteacher.Itwaswisetolistentohim.

"Youdon'thavetowait,"hesaid.

"Whatdoyoumean?IthoughtyousaidJimmywasfine?"

"Heis.Butyoucangoback."

"ToEarth?Toaphysicalbody?Sosoon?WillIbebornasababy?"

"No. You can, if you want, become what we call a Wanderer. You can enter the body of an eighteen-

yearoldgirl."

I had never heard of such an idea. "Is that legal? I mean, what will happen to the girl? Won't she go
runningtothenearestpriestforanexorcisttogetmeoutofher?"

"She will leave the body altogether. She'll be fine. She's already made this choice. At night, when she
sleeps, her soul converses with me. She feels she is going nowhere in her life. She wants to give you
anotherchance.Herleavingispurelyherchoice.Itisalwaysthatway."Hepaused."She'llbewithme."

"Whoisthisgirl?"Iasked.

"HernameisJeanRodrigues.Ifyouwish,thatwillsoonbeyourname."

CHAPTERIV

THEFIRSTSENSATIONJeanRodriguesfeltwasofpressure,asifshewereunderathousandfeetof
water. Every square inch of her skin was being smothered. She wanted to cry out, to shove the water
away,butwasunabletomakeasoundormove.Forawhileshestruggledinablackplace,thenshefelta
prickofsomethingcoldandsharp,andherstrugglingceased,atleastforalittlewhile.

Time went by, jumbled moments of consciousness and unconsciousness. Next, she heard voices. They
seemedtocomefromfaroff,andshelistenedtothemforwhatcouldhavebeenhoursbeforerealizingthat
theybelongedtohermotherandCarol.Shecouldmakenosenseofthewordsexcepttorealizethatthey
bothsoundedworried.Shewasabouttodozeoffagain,whensomeoneshookherroughly.Shemovedto
pushthepersonaway;shereallydidn'twanttowakeupyet.Butshecouldn'tfindherhandsosheopened
hereyesinstead.

Hermotherwasstandingoverherwithbloodshoteyes.Itlookedasifhermotherhadn'tsleptinalong
time.Jeanwonderedwherethehellshewas.

"Mama,"shesaidsoftly.

Hermotherglancedatsomeonetotheside.

"GraciasaDios,she'sawake,"shesaid.

Thatsomeonecameintoview.ItwasCarol.Shealsolookedexhausted."Howdoyoufeel,Jean?"

Carolasked,concerned.

"Tired."Shecoughedweakly."Thirsty.WhereamI?"

HermotherthrustherhandoutandthenheldaglassofwatertoJean'slips.

"Sipthis.You'llfeelbetter."

Jeandidasshewastold.Sherealizedherlipswerebadlyparched,bleedingeven.Thewaterwentdown
coolanddelicious.Herheartpoundedatthebackofherskull.Herheaddidnothurtsomuchasitfeltas
ifitwerebeingsteadilysqueezedbyaclamp.Sheswallowedandgesturedforhermothertotakeaway
theglass.Hervisionwentbeyondthem,tothehallwaybeyondtheopendoor.

Shesawnurseswalkingbackandforth.Shewasinahospital,shethought.

"Whathappened?"sheasked.

HermotherandCarollookedateachotherasifdecidinghowmuchtotellher.

"Therewasanaccident,"hermotherfinallysaid.

"Lenny'sbedroombalconycollapsed,"Caroladded.

"You fell down the hill and hit your head and broke a few ribs," her mother continued. "But now that
you'reawake,you'regoingtobeallright.ButIhavetosayyougaveusquiteascareforacoupleofdays
there."

"Acoupleofdays?"Jeanwhispered."Whatdayisit?"

"It'sMondaymorning,"hermothersaid."You'vebeenunconsciousthiswholetime."Hereyesdampened
assheleanedoverandhuggedherdaughtergently.

Jeanhadtostifleagroan.Herrightsidewasextraordinarilysensitive.Shewonderedifthefewbroken
ribsreallymeantherwholesidewascavedin.

Clearly, to be unconscious as long as she had been, she must have suffered a serious concussion. Her
motheradded,"Mypoorgirl."

Jeanpattedhermother'shead."Don'tworry,Mama,IfeelbetterthanIprobablylook.I'llbeoutofherein
notime.How'remybrothersandsistersdoing?"

Hermothersatupandsmiled."Why,that'ssweetofyoutoask,sinceyou'retheonewhoneedsspecial
attentionrightnow.They'refine.I'llcallthemandtellthemyou'reawake."Shestood."Infact,I'llgotell
thedoctor.Ithinkhe'llwanttoexamineyou."

Jeansmiled."Ishecute?DidheexaminemewhileIwasasleep?"

Carolandhermotherchuckled;theyseemedsorelieved."Hecouldn'tkeephishandsoffyou,"Carolsaid.

Hermothersteppedtowardthedoor."I'llbebackinafewminutes.Trysippingalittlemorewater,Jean.
Carol,maybeyoucanhelpher."

"Cierto,Mrs.Rodrigues,"Carolsaid.

"Mamd,"Jeansaid."HasLennybeenbytoseeme?"

Hermotherhesitatedatthedoor.AgainsheandCarolexchangedlooks."Yes,"

hermothersaid."He'sbeenby."

"Could you call him as well?" Jean said. "Tell him I'd like some flowers and chocolates and an
immediatevisit."

Hermotherloweredherheadandnodded."Iwill."

Shewenttoleave.

"Mama,"Jeansaid.

Hermotherpausedoncemore."Yes?"

"Teamo,"Jeansaid.

Hermotherhadtotakeabreath.Thewordshadcaughtherbysurprise.Againhereyesdampenedno,this
timetheyspilledoverandtearsrandownhercheeks."My,"shesaid,touchingherheart."Ihaven'theard
thatinalongtime.

Iloveyou,too,Jean.I'llbebackassoonasIcan."

When she was gone, Jean gestured for Carol to help her sit up. Carol picked a remote control off the
nightstand. "This will make the top half of the bed move up," Carol said. "That way you won't have to
bendsomuch.Ready?"

"Yes,"Jeansaid.Carolpushedthebuttonandthetopofthebedmovedherintoasittingposition.

Theshiftinthebloodsupplyinherbodybroughtawaveofnewachesandpains.Itfeltasifherrightknee
wasprettyscrewedupaswell;therewas,infact,athickbandagewrappedaroundherrightlegfromthe
topofhercalftohalfwayupherthigh.AnIVranintothebackofherlefthand.Butshedidn'tfeelany
bandagesonherribsbeneathherwrinkledgreenhospitalgown.Shewonderedwhathadbecomeofher
clothes.Carolcarefullysatonthebedbesideher.JeanofferedherherrighthandandCaroltookit.

"Youreallyhadusscared,"Carolsaid.

"Haveyoubeenherealot?"Jeanasked.

"Mostofthetime.Totellyouthetruth,thedoctordidn'tknowifyouweregoingtowakeupornot.Not
untilearlythismorning."

"Hecouldtellthen?"

"Si.Don'taskmehow.Itwasonlythismorningtheymovedyououtofintensivecare.Youshouldhave
seenyourselfyesterdayandthedaybefore.

Youhadatonoftubesandwireshookeduptoyourbody."

"Soundskinky."Jeanconsidered."What'sthedealwithLenny?"

"Whatareyoutalkingabout?"

"WhatyouandmymotherareafraidtotalkaboutIsawthelooksyougaveeachotherwhenIaskedabout
him.What'sgoingon?

Whyisn'thehere?"

Carolsighed;shewastrapped."Jean,whatdoyourememberaboutlastFridaynight?"

Jeanfrowned."Everything,Ithink,upuntilIfell.Irememberwehadthatstupidfightaboutwhetherto
wasteJuanornot.ThenIranoutontothebalcony.Irememberstaringoutoverthecity."Shepaused.

"Andthefireworks."

"Whatfireworks?"

"Thereweren'tanyfireworks?"

Carollaughed."Youmusthaveseenthoseafteryoufell."

"No.Iremember—justbeforeIfell—thewholecitywaslitupwithcoloredlights.AndIfeltsohappy."
She stopped and shook her head. "But you're right, they couldn't have been fireworks. Who would be
settingthemoffinthemiddleofthenight?"ShestudiedCarol.Herfriendhadyettoanswerherquestion.

"YoutellmewhathappenedlastFriday.WherewereyouwhenIfell?"

"Iwasinmycar,onmywayhome."

"What?YouleftLenny'shousewithoutme?"

Carolshrugged."Lennytoldmetogo.Jean,don'tlookatmethatway.Youwereoutonthatbalconyforso
long.Itdidn'tlooklikeyouwereevercomingbackin."

"Howlongissolong?"

"Morethanhalfanhour."

"Iwasn'touttherethatlong.Noway."

"Yes,youwere.Icameupbehindyouandcalledyournameandyouignoredme.Youwereoutthereat
leastthirtyminuteswhenIleftthehouse."

"WasDarlenestilltherewhenyouleft?"

"Yes."Carolthoughtforamoment."ItmighthavebeenDarlenewhosaidIshouldgo,insteadofLenny.
Yeah,Ithinkitwasher."

"Andyoujustdidwhatshesaidwithouttalkingtomefirst?"

"Itoldyou,Itriedtogetyourattentionbutyouweren'tanswering.Ifiguredyouwantedtobealone.Orat
leastalonewithLenny."

"Thisistooweird.WhatdoesLennysayhappened?"

Carolhesitated."Idon'tknow.Ihaven'ttalkedtohim."

"Whynot?"

Carolavertedhereyes."Idon'tknowhowtotellyouthis.Lennywasonthebalconywhenyoufell.He
fellwithyou.He'sinthishospitalrightnow,buthe'sinworseshapethanyou."

Jeancouldfeelherheartpound."Howworse?"

Carol'seyesfilled."Hebrokehisbackinthefall.Itlookslikehe'sparalyzedfromthewaistdown."

"Oh, God," Jean whispered. She thought of Lenny's beautiful body, his powerful legs—now as good as

dead. How could this have happened? Why did the balcony suddenly collapse? Carol was shaking her
head.

"I'msorry,"shesaid."Iwasn'ttryingtokeepthetruthfromyou.It'sjustthatyourmotherdidn'tthinkwe
shouldtellyouwhenyouwokeup.Shewantedtowaituntilyouwerestronger."

"Iunderstand,"Jeansaidsoftly,staringatthefarwall,seeingonlywheelchairsandimpassablestairways,
boredomanddespairforLenny.Hewassoactive—

how would he be able to live? She added, "Is there anything else you want to tell me? That you were
afraidtotellme?"

Carolraisedherheadandnodded."Thereisoneotherthing.Thefallwasroughonyou.Whileyouwere
unconscious,youbegantobleed,youknow,downthere.Youlostthebebi,Jean."

Jeanblinked."Whatbaby?"

"Yourbaby.Youwerepregnant,remember?"

Jeancouldn'tkeepupwiththebarrageofinformation.Itwastrueshecouldrememberbuyingandtaking
theE.P.T.,andfailingit.ShecouldalsoremembertellingCarolaboutit.Yet,atthesametime,shehad
troubleacceptingthefactthatshehadindeedbeenpregnant.Likeitwassomethingthatcouldnotpossibly
have happened to her, not under ordinary circumstances. But there was no arguing with the facts.
Strangely,shefeltneitherreliefnorasenseoflossthatthebabywasgone.Shesimplyfeltnothing,asif
thewholematterhadbeensomeoneelse'sproblem.

"DoesmymotherknowIwaspregnant?"Jeanasked.

"Yes.Thedoctortoldher,afteryourmiscarriage.Shetookitwell.Shedidn'tfreakoutoranything."

"Bueno.Anythingelse?"

Carolsmiledsadly."No.ExceptthatI'mgladyou'reawakeandfeelingbetter."

JeanpattedCarol'shand."You'reagoodfriend.ThankyouforstayingwithmewhileIwasout.Iwon't
forgetthat."

Caroldidadoubletake."I'veneverheardyoutalkthatwaybefore."

"Talkwhatway?"

"Idon'tknow,justthewayyou'retalking.Yousoundnicerthanusual."

Jeannodded."Maybethefalldidmesomegood."

Her mother returned with Dr. Snapple, who must have changed his name to his favorite drink because
therewasnodisguisingthefactthathehadbeenbornintheMiddleEast.Dr.Snapplehadathickaccent
andafacesodarkhecouldhavebeenconceivedstaringintothesun.Hewasabigmanwithfingersas
thick as Cuban cigars. Jean didn't find him attractive but competent, preferable for a physician. Dr.

Snappleaskedherafewquestionsabouthowshefeltanddidanumberoftestsinvolvinghervision.The
resultsseemedtosatisfyhim,butwhenhetouchedherrightsideandthebackofherheadshegroaned.

Notmentioninghermiscarriage,heexplainedthatherconcussionandbrokenribswouldtaketimetoheal,
thattherewasnomagicproceduretospeedherrecovery.Atthesametime,hesaidshewastostayinthe
hospital for at least two more days, possibly three or four. Jean fretted over the cost. She had no
insurance.

"Whycan'tIgohomenow?"sheasked."Ifyoucan'tdoanythingforme?"

"Becauseyouhavebeenunconsciousforovertwodays,"hesaid."Who'stosayyoumightnotslipback
intoacoma?Wehavetokeepyouforobservation."

"ButIwon'tgobackintoacoma,"Jeansaid."It'snotpossible."

Dr.Snapplewasamused."Sincewhendidyoudeveloptheabilitytoseeinsideyourownbrain?"

Jeanwasannoyed.Sheknewhermotherwastooproudtoaccepthelpfromthestate."Idon'tneedtosee
insidemyheadtoknowhowIfeel.Mama,Ishouldn'tstayhere,youknow.Howarewegoingtopayfor
it?"

Hermotherwasstaringather."You'reworriedaboutthat?You'renotworriedaboutyourself?"

"OfcourseI'mworriedaboutthemoney,"Jeansaid."Wedon'thaveany."

Hermothersmiledfaintly."Don'tworry,Jean,we'llfindaway."SheglancedatDr.Snapple."Thankyou,
Doctor.I'llmakesureshestayshere,andinbed."

Dr. Snapple left and a few minutes later Carol excused herself. For a moment Jean was alone with her
mother.ItwasobvioustoJeanthathermotherhadsufferedterriblywhileshehadbeenunconscious,and
that the poor woman didn't know what to say or do now that the worst was over. Jean didn't know if
anythinghadtobesaid.Shejustheldhermother'shandandsmiledather,andafterawhilehermother
seemedtofeelbetter.Hermotherkissedhergoodbyeandpromisedtocomethatevening,afterwork.She
alsowarnedJeanaboutstayinginbed.

Themomentshewasgone,Jeangotup.Shelastedalloffivesecondsbeforeawaveofdizzinessmade
hersitdownquickly.Allright,shethought,herbrainhadtogetusedtogravityagain.Takingseveraldeep
breaths,shegotupslowly,thensatbackdownbeforeshecouldfallover.Shedidthisafewtimesand
eventually was able to stand without feeling as if she were strapped to a Ferris wheel. Her side hurt
awfully,asdidherrightknee.Shewonderedwhatshehadlookedlikewhentheyfoundher.Shehadn't
heardLennycomeupbehindheronthebalcony.Notthatshecouldremember,anyway.

Jeanknewshewouldn'trestuntilshesawhim.Shelimpedacrosstheroomandfoundherclothesinthe
closet.Thehospitaldrycleaningservicehadn'tbeenbysinceFriday.Shesawinstantlyhowmuchshehad
bled.Herjeansandtopwerebothstaineddarkred.Shedidn'tknowwhattodo.Thegreenhospitalgown
sheworewasdrafty;shedidn'twanttogostrollingdownthehallswithherasshangingout,althoughshe
thoughtshehadaveryniceass.Indeed,glancingoverhershoulderatherbarebehind,shewaspleasedto
seeshewasstillcurvaceousevenafterherspecialcomadiet.

Jeansearchedtheclosetforarobebutdidn'tfindone.Shewasabouttogiveupandreturntobedwhen
she noticed a door in the corner opposite the closet, one that didn't appear to lead into the hallway.
Crackingitopenacoupleofinchesshediscoveredbigsurprise—thatitledintoanadjoiningroom.Her
neighbor was a seventy-year-old white woman with a snore like Fred Flintstone's and a wardrobe the
equalofElizabethTaylor's.Thewomanhadsomanyclothesjammedinherclosetitwasasifsheplanned
toattendnumerouscostumeballsontheothersideincaseshefailedtocheckoutofthehospital.

Jeantookoneglanceatthewomanstretchedoutonthebedandfiguredthewomanwouldneverknowif
she was missing a dress or not. And so, not many minutes later, wearing a long print gown that she
wouldn'thavebeencaughtdeadinunderothercircumstances,JeanwentsearchingforLenny.

Shesneakedoutofherwingwithoutdifficulty,butbythetimeshereachedthehospitallobbyshehadto
sitdowntorest.Shecouldn'tdecidewhichhurtworse,herhead,herleg,orherside.Alltogether,though,
it was one nasty ache. Yet the strange thing was that the pain bothered her only as far as her body was
concerned.Itdidn'tdepressherinsidethatshewasinjured.Sheaccepteditsowellsheactuallysurprised
herself.

Whenshewassufficientlyrecovered,Jeanstrolleduptoawomanatthereceptionarea.Shedidherbest
to appear of sound body and mind but the huge bandage around her head was not something she could
makevanishwithwittyconversation.Tomakemattersworse,thebandagewasevenstainedwithblood.
Buttheelderlywomanbehindthecounterdidn'tseemtonotice.ShelookedupasJeanapproached.

"CanIhelpyou,miss?"sheasked.

"Yes,"Jeansaid."Mybrother,LennyMandez,isstayinginthishospital.HebrokehisbacklastFriday.
Couldyoupleasetellmehisfloorandroomnumber?"

Thewomanputahandtohermouth."Thepoordear.Ishegoingtobeallright?"

Jean had to swallow before answering. She wondered what it would be like to see him. She reminded
herselfthatshemustn'tbreakdown."Ihopeso."

Thewomanturnedtohercomputer."Howdoyouspellthatlastname?"

Jean gave her the name letter by letter. She thought it wiser to act like Lenny's sister rather than his
girlfriendbecausesurelyhewasstillinintensivecareandtheremightberestrictionsasfarasvisitors
wereconcerned.Indeed,amomentlaterthewomanconfirmedhersuspicionthathewasnotinanormal
room.

"He'sontheeighthfloor,RoomNine,"thewomansaid."That'sarestrictedarea.Youmighthavetoshow
I.D.togetin."

"Noproblem,"Jeansaid."Thanksforyourhelp."

"Youlooklikeyou'vebeeninanaccidentyourself."thewomanobserved.

"Yeah,Ifelloffabalcony."

"Youwereluckyyouweren'tkilled."

Jeanfeltacoldwave,goosebumpsallover.Hadsomeonejustwalkedoverhergrave?Feltlikeit.

"Yeah,"shemuttered.

RoomNineturnedouttobemanysmalladjoiningcubicleshookedupbywiresandcomputerstoacentral
nurses'station.Onethingtheydidn'tworryaboutinintensivecarewaspeople'sprivacy,Jeanthought.The
areawasthickwiththesmellofalcoholandpain.ThemomentJeanwalkedin,shehadtositdown.Her
headthrobbed.Ayoungnursewholookedlikeanuncameovertocheckonher.Jeanassuredthenurse
shewasfineandexplainedhowshewastheretoseeherbrother.ThewomanrecognizedLenny'sname.
Shedidn'taskforI.D.Jeanwashelpedintothelastcubicleontheleftandleftalonewithherboyfriend.

Hewasnotaprettysight,anditbrokeherheartbecausehehadbeensuchaprettyboy.Surprisingly,he
wasnotinabodycastbutheldrigidlyinplacebyacombinationofplasticrodsandscrewsandclamps.
His bed, it was clear, was capable of rotating so that his body could be turned. Jean suspected it was
necessary to circulate his blood and keep him from getting bed sores. He had no marks on his face, no
woundstoanypartofthefrontofhisbody,althoughshecouldseetheedgeofthelargebandageonhis
back.Still,helookedlikedeathitself.Hisskinwaspastywhite,asifavampireonabingegotholdof
him.Hiseyeswereclosed;heappearedtobeasleep.

"Lenny,"shewhispered,hervoiceshaky.

Heopenedhiseyes,butdidn'tlookoverather,staringattheceilinginstead.

"Jean,"hesaidsoftly.

Shemovedtohisside,wenttotakehishand,thenthoughtbetterofit.Thesimplefearoftouchinghimhurt
herasmuchasanythinghadsofar.Itmusthavehurthimaswell;helookedatherwithsuchwoundedeyes
it was all she could do to not burst out crying. She remembered a dog she had had as a child. He had
lookedatherthesamewayrightafterbeingstruckbyacar,rightbeforehedied.

'"Ola,"shesaid.

"Ola,"hesaid."Howareyou?"

"Fine."Shetouchedherbandage."Justbumpedmyheadisall."

"Yesterdaytheytoldmeyouwereinacoma."

"Thatwasyesterday."Shepaused."How'syourback?"

Hesmiledbitterly."Idon'tknow.Ican'tfeelit"

"Whatcanyoufeel?"

Heclosedhiseyes."Icanusemyhandsandarms.Idon'tknowwhatelseworks."

She reached over and gently touched his big toe. He had on underwear, nothing else, but there was a
vaporizersteaminginthecornerandthecubiclewaswarmandhumid.

"Canyoufeelthat?"sheasked.

"Feelwhat?"Hiseyesremainedclosed.

Shetookherhandaway,theweightonherchestheavierthantheoneonherhead."Nothing.Lenny.Look
atme,please,Ineedtotalktoyou."

Heopenedhiseyes."Whatdoyouwanttotalkabout?"

Shefrettedwithherhandsandhadtomakeherselfstop."You'regoingtogetbetter."

Hisvoicewasflat."No,I'mnot.Thedoctorsaysmyspinalcord'sbeensevered.

Itwon'theal,theyneverdo.I'mcrippledforlife.I'mscrewed,that'sasimplefact.Sodon'tstandthere
withthatlittlebumponyourheadandtellmeI'mgoingtogetbetter."

Herthroatchokedwithgrief."I'msorry."

Heturnedhisheadtheotherway."Idon'twantyoursympathy."

"Whatdoyouwant?"

"Tobeleftalone.Getoutofhereanddon'tcomeback."

Finallyhertearscame;shecouldn'tstopthem.

"Youdon'tmeanthat."

Heturnedhisheadbackinherdirection.Hiseyeswerered,withangeraswellaspain."ButIdo,Jean.I
can'tstandtoseeyouwalkingaroundwhileI'mstuckhereinthisbed."

"Damn you!" she yelled. "That's not fair! Just because I'm not paralyzed I can't be your girlfriend
anymore?"

"Mygirlfriend?"hesaidsarcastically."HowcanIhaveagirlfriend?Ican'tevencontrolwhenIhaveto
gotothebathroomanymore,nevermindhavesex.I'mnogoodtoyou.I'mnogoodtoanybody."

"Idon'tcarewhatyoucanandcan'tdo.Allthatmattersisthatyou'realive."

She dared to touch his hand. "I mean it, I'm not going to leave you. We can work on you getting better
together.Andifyou'reunabletomakeafullrecovery,thenwe'llworkonthataswell."

Helookeddownwhereshetouchedhim.Hiseyesseemedtosoften."Icanfeelthat,"hewhispered.

Shenoddedeagerly."Bueno."

Unfortunately,thesoftnessonlywentsodeep.Heshuthiseyesandturnedawayagain."Ihavetosleep,
Jean.I'mverytired."

Sheleanedoverandkissedhishand."I'llbeback,"shesaid.

Hedidnotrespond.Heneededtime,shetoldherselfassheleftthecubicle.

Timeandlove.Shecouldn'trememberhavingeverlovedhimsomuch.

CHAPTERV

THERISHIWALKEDWITHMEbesidethestream.IstillfoundithardtounderstandhowIhadcreated
theparadisewewereenjoyingwhenIhadneverimaginedascenesobeautiful.Theflowersthatbloomed
besidethewaterwerelikenonefoundonEarth—oratleasttheEarthIknew—somanydifferentcolors
andshapes.Thejoyofexistence,ofwalkingwiththisgreatbeing,waslikeaconstantstreamofgladness
insidemychest,asclearandsweetasthewateratourfeet.IquestionedhimaboutWanderers.

"WerethereanyonEarththatIknewpersonally?"Iasked.

"YoumetmanyasShariCooper.Butyouweren'tclosetoany."

"Howaboutinhistory?WereanyfamouspeopleWanderers?"

"That is a perceptive question. The answer is yes, many well-known people were Wanderers. To be a
Wandererisagreathonoraswellasagreatsacrifice.

Asoulhastobehighlyevolvedinordertobypassthebirthprocess.BecauseaWandererentersintoa
developedphysicalbody,he—orshe,sexis,ofcourse,notanissuehere—carriesmoreoftheknowledge
ofthespiritualplanewithhimtoEarth.Always,hereturnstothephysicalplanewithaparticularmission,
and because he radiates so much soul energy, he often succeeds. By nature, Wanderers are charismatic,
intelligent,loving.Peopleareattractedtothem.Theywanttobewiththem."

"HaveyoueverbeenaWanderer?"

TheRishismiled."Iwanderallovertheplace."

"WillyoueverreturntoEarthagain?"

"IamonEarthnow."

"Imean,somewhereinthetimeframethatIunderstandtobemodernsociety?"

"Perhaps.ItisuptoGod."

"Doeshetalktoyou?Imean,likeIamtalkingtoyounow?"

"Godisanunboundedoceanoflightandconsciousness.Ifloatinthatoceanonwhatevercurrentorwave
arises.Igowiththat,itismyjoytodoso.ItalktoGodwhenItalktoyou.IseeGodwhenIseethetrees.
IfeelGodwhenItouchmyhead.Whoistheretotalktobutmyself?"TheRishichuckled."I'msorry,I
don'tknowhowtoansweryourquestion."

Ismiled."Itdoesn'tmatter.Youranswerwasbeautiful.TellmesomeofthefamouspeopleonEarthwho
wereWanderers?"

"They're often hard to spot, but they do have one quality that makes them stand out from others. At one
pointintheirlivestheyallundergoahugechangeofheartandawareness.That,ofcourse,iswhenthe
new soul enters the body. Einstein was an example. From a young age he was intelligent, but not the

geniushebecamewhentheWandererwhobroughtthetheoryofrelativitytoEartharrived.Thatwashis
mission,tobringthatknowledge."

"Butwasn'ttheatomicbombdevelopedasaresultofhistheories?"

"Yes.Hisknowledgewasinsightful.Butitisuptomankindtodecidewhattodowithsuchknowledge.
Thetheoriesthemselveswereneithergoodnorbad."

"WhowasanotherexampleofaWanderer?"

"MartinLutherKing.Ithinkhispurposemustbeobvioustoyou.Butthiswillsurpriseyou—MalcomX
wasalsoaWanderer."

"Him?Butwasn'theabigot?"

"HewasmanythingswhileonEarth.Cananymanorwomanbedefinedbyoneword?ButtheMalcolmX
whom history will remember entered while he was in jail. Immediately there was a huge change in his
outlook. He became interested in religious matters. Many Wanderers go through this phase because in
your society, religion is seen as the main source of spirituality, although, in reality, that is a great
misunderstanding.ButasIsaid,religionhasitspurposeandMalcolmXbecamedeeplyreligious.Hewas
extremelycharismatic.Hedrewpeoplebythethousands."

"Butwasn'theaBlackMuslim?Didn'thehatewhitepeople?"

"You just came from a predominantly Judeo Christian society. Both Judaism and Christianity are fine
religions, as are Islam, Buddhism, and Hinduism. One is not better than the other, no matter what the
priests and ministers and rabbis would have you believe. Where religion awakens divine love, it is
useful.

Where it narrows the mind with dogma, it is harmful. And it is true that Malcolm X spent much of his
adult life trying to separate Caucasians from African-Americans. But we must come back to what his
mission as a Wanderer was. He came to give pride to people of color. At the time many African
Americans,particularlyyoungmales,feltacertainhelplessnessasfarasdealingwithsociety.MalcolmX
showedthemhowtobeproudandstrong."

"Butdoesn'tpridedividepeople?"

"Itcan.Butitwasanecessarystepforthatsegmentofpopulationatthattime.

Youcannotletgoofprideuntilyou'vefirsthadit.MalcolmXstirredthingsup—thatwashispurpose.
Youcannotjudgepeoplesuchashim.Youcannotjudgeanybody."

"ButifhewasaWanderer,whywasheassassinated?Whydidn'thehavedivineprotection?"

"Hehaddivineprotection.ButwhenaWandererisfinishedwithhismission,heoftenleavessuddenly.
Eitherinablazeofbulletsorquietly."

"WasMalcolmXhappywhenhegotoverhere?"

"Hedidnotaccomplisheverythinghesetouttoaccomplish.Hewasusedbyothers,andhismissionwas
distorted.Butthathappens.Hehadnoregrets.

Regretisthemostuselessofallemotions."

"I'mconfused.Youspeakasifwhenheenteredthebodyhedidn'tknowhewasaWanderer?"

"Thatiscorrect.FewWanderersrealizewhattheyarewhileinaphysicalbody,atleastconsciously.But
deepinsidetheyknowtheyareonEarthforareason.

Theyusuallymovetowardtheirparticularmissionspontaneously."

"WillIrealizethatI'maWanderer?"

"It'spossible.It'suptoyou.Youhavefreewill."

"Whatwillmymissionbe?"

"I speak of missions because it gives you some understanding of why you would want to return. But in
reality there is only one mission—to realize divine love. To awaken that divine love in others. But
differentpeople do thatin different ways,and they don't haveto be Wanderersto inspire others. Every
manandwomanbornintoaphysicalbodyonEarthhasamission.Yourparticularonewillbetoinspire
theoftenforgottensegmentofthepoorHispaniccommunity.JeanRodriguesisHispanicandpoor.Asher,
you will write stories that millions of people will read. They will not necessarily be spiritual stories.
Theycanbeaboutspaceshipsoraliensordragonsorordinarypeople.Thetopicdoesnotmatter.Butthe
spiritualitywillbeinyourstoriesbecauseit'sinsideyou.Itwillflowintoyourwords.Peoplewillread
your stories and without understanding why, yearn for something greater. And because you are a young
Hispanicwoman,youwillalsoserveasarolemodelforotheryoungpeoplelikeJeanRodrigues."

Ismiled."Ialwayswantedtobeawriter.ButwherewillIgetmyideas?WillIhaveamuse?"

TheRishismiled."Youwillbeinspired,don'tworry.Butperhapsyoucanwriteastoryaboutwhereyou
getyourideas.Iimagineitwouldbeverypopular."

"Thisisgreat.Icouldn'taskforabetterjob.IlovedwritingthatstoryaboutwhathappenedtomewhenI
died.DoyouthinkI'llbeabletofindmybrotherandgetmystorypublished?"

Heregardedmefondly."It'spossible."

"Whatdoesthatlookmean?YouknowsomethingIdon't.WillIfindJimmy?"

"Yes."

Iclappedmyhandstogether."Great!WillIrecognizehimasmybrother?"

"Thatisuptoyou."

Istoppedwalking."ButIhavetoknowhim.Can'tyouhelpmeouthere?"

TheRishiwasamused."Iamalwayshelpingyou,Shari."

"Iknowthat.Iappreciatethat.ButwhatcanIdoafterIgetinJean'sphysicalbodytomakeitmorelikely
thatIwillrememberthatI'maWanderer?"

"Youcanlearntoenjoysilence."

"Comeagain?DoIhavetolearntoshutup?"

Helaughed."No.Thatwouldnotbepossible,ornatural,foryou.Youcantalkallyouwant.Butsometime
duringyourbusylifeyouwillwanttositinmeditation."

"ButIdon'tknowhowtomeditate.CanyouteachmenowbeforeIreturn?"

"Iwillteachyou.Butyoumustbetaughtagainwhileyou'reinthephysicalbody.Youmustbetaughtbya
Master. That is very important. There is a new consciousness entering your society, new ideas. Many
people call this New Age information. Much of it is useful. Much of it is confusing. The New Age
movementspeaksofmanyofthesamethingsIspeakof,buttherearemajordifferencesbetweenwhatI
tellyouandwhatyouwillfindinmostNewAgebooks.Iwillgooverthesedifferenceswithyou.Evenif
youdon'trememberthemconsciouslywhileyou'reinthebody,youwillhaveasenseforwhatistrueand
thatsensewillguideyouonyourpath.YouwillevenwriteaboutthethingsItellyounow."

"1can'timaginethatastoryaboutadragoncouldbringoutanyprofoundtruths."

"Italldependsonthedragon,Shari.Listenattentivelytothesepoints.

Meditation is never an act of mood making. Pure silence, pure consciousness, the eternal side of your
nature—itisbeyondthought.Youcannottalkyourselfintoit.Itcomesbygraceandbygracealone.But
whatisgrace?Howdoyoumakeitcome?ThatiswhereaMasterisimportant.ManyinTheNewAge
movementaretooanxioustothrowoffallauthority.Theysaythatnoonecanteachanything,thatitisall
inside the student. And that is true to a certain extent. On the other hand, to uncover what is inside you
must bow at the feet of someone who has already discovered that great treasure. I use the word bow
carefully.Becauseuntilapersonisreadytohumblehimselfandadmitthathedoesn'tknow,thenhecan
learnnothingofvalue.IttakesgreathumilitytoevenapproachaMaster.ThesearethingstheNewAge
movementsometimesforgets."

"ThewholeeighteenyearsIwasonEarth,IneversawaMaster."

"This time you will. They will begin to appear in the world at this time. They teach techniques:
meditation,certainkindsofbreathing,physicalexercises.

But a technique only points toward the goal. It is not the goal itself. It is like a branch on a tree at
nighttime.Youcansaytoafriend,'Followthewaythatbranchpointsandyouwillseethemostwonderful
star.'Thebranchgivesdirection,butitisnotthesameasthestar.Thebranchismadeofwood,thestaris
pureenergy.Orsayyouwanttoeatabowlofcereal.Todothatyouneedthetechniqueofusingaspoon:
howtoholdit,whichendtoputinthebowl,howitgoesupandintoyourmouth.Thespooniscrucial,but
itisthecerealyouwant.Thecerealisthegrace.GraceflowsfromaMaster.Ithastoflowbecausehe
embodiesthatdivinelove."

"IwishIhadbeenonEarthwithyouinEgypt,"Isaid.

"Youwere.Youare.Youarewithmethereasmuchasyouarewithmenow."

Ishookmyhead."Let'ssticktoonetimeframe,please,orIjustendupconfused."

"If you wish. But sometimes a Master is purposely confusing. He destroys preconceived ideas and
beliefs.Always,though,hegivesanaspirantaspiritualpractice.Thatisverynecessarytodoeventhough
manyonthephysicalplanedon'tthinkso.Theysay,'Thetimeischangingandallwillbetakencareof.'

Theydon'twanttodoanypractice.Andtheyareright,toacertainextent.Thetimeischanging.Thatis
whysomanyWanderersarebeginningtoappearonEarth—tohelpprepareforthischange.Mankindis
enteringanewagewherespiritualitywilldominate.Butmanyfearthischange.Theyhaveheardaboutthe
disastersthataretocome.Manyso-calledprophetssaythemajorityoftheworldwillbewipedout.That
is not true. The world has an insurance policy. It has the Masters. There will be disasters, however, to
shakethingsupalittle.Itcantakeaneedletoremoveathorn.ItcantakeashakingoftheEarthforpeople
nottototallydependontheEarth,tomakethemlookinside.Youwillwritestoriesaboutthedisastersas
well.Peoplewillreadthemandunderstandthatwhenthingsappearthedarkest,itisasignthatdawnis
near.Youwillwritestoriesofenlighteneddragonsandaliens,andpeoplewillwanttolearntomeditate.
Eventhoughthecomingdawnisinevitable,itisgoodtobeawaketoenjoyit.Meditationhelpswiththat."

"Iamnevergoingtorememberallthis,"Isaid."Ican'trememberhalfofwhatyoujustsaid."

"Itdoesn'tmatter.Iseeyourmindhasbeguntowander.Thatisallright—youareaWanderer,afterall."
Hepaused."YouwanttoseePeter."

Inodded.IknewIcouldhidenothingfromtheRishi."Imisshim."

"Wherewouldyouliketoseehim?"

"Whatdoyoumean?"

TheRishikneltforamomentandpickedaredflowerthatresembledarose.Hegesturedtotheserene
landscape."Itoldyou,thisisalladream.WhatwouldyouliketodreamwithPeter?Itcanbeanything.It
canevenbethatyoudon'tknowthatitisadream.Really,thatisallhumanlifeis.Justadreampeople
choosetoenterintosothattheycanlearnsomething.Butpeopletakeitsoseriouslyandbecomeafraidof
theirowncreation.Theyevenfeartowakeup.

That is the one lesson humanity most needs to learn in the coming days. That there is no reason to be
afraid.ThatthingswillworkoutforthebestThatGodknowswhatshe'sdoing."

"She?"

Hetappedmeontheheadwithhisflower."WhenIamwithyou,Shari,youaremyGod.Whatuniverse
doyouwishtocreateforyouandPeter?"

Iconsidered.BoydidIconsider."Itcanbeanything?"

"Anything."

Iblushed;IcouldfeelthebloodinmycheekseventhoughIwasaghost."CanitbeanR-ratedcreation?"

"Yes."

"Idon'twantyoutowatch."

"Iwon'twatch."

Ilaughed."Youpromise?"

"Ipromise."Hechuckled."Iswearit,Shari."

Irubbedmyhandstogetherinanticipation."Awesome.Letthecreationbegin.

Lettherebelight.Let

therebeboys!"

IneverknewIhadsuchadirtymind.Well,Imayhavesuspected.

CHAPTERVI

JEANRODRIGUEScouldn'trememberwhenshehadlasttiedherlittlebrother'sshoes.Teddysatabove
heronthekitchentableasshekneltathisfeetandstaredatherasiftryingtorememberthesamething.He
wasacutefour-year-old,withhairaslongasagirl'sanddimples.Hetouchedthetopofherheadasshe
finishedwithhislaces.Shenolongerworeherbandage,althoughshestillsufferedfromadullheadache.
Butshecouldn'tcomplain;herribsandkneewerehealed.Shehadbeenreleasedfromthehospitalnine
daysearlier.Shehadjustmadeittoherhighschoolgraduationthenightbefore,andhadbeenhappytobe
there.ItwasbeforenineonSaturdaymorning,twoweeksafterherfall.

"Isyourheadsore?"heasked.

Shesmiledandclaspedhisoutstretched.hand.

"Nowthatyou'vetouchedit,Teddy,it'sallbetter.Didyouknowyouhavemagichands?"

Heblinkedatherpronouncementandpulledhishandsbacktostudythem.

Hiseyeswentwide."Whatcantheydo?"heasked.

"Theycangivelove.Thatistheirspecialmagic.GogiveMomahugandthenyougoplay.Here,I'llhelp
youdown."

JeanliftedTeddyfromthetableandhehurriedovertothesofawheretheirmotherloungedinfrontofthe
TV.Todaywastheirmother'sonlydayoff.Teddygaveherthebriefestofhugsbeforedashingoutthedoor
yellingsomethingaboutshowingtheotherkidshishands.Theybothlaughedathim.Hermothershookher
head.

"You'llhavethatboytryingtohealallthekidsontheblock,Jean,"shesaid.

Jeansatbesideheronthesofa."Maybehecan,"shesaidthoughtfully.

Hermothercontinuedtosmile."Idon'tthinkanyone'ssickaroundhereatthemoment."

"There'ssickandthere'ssick,"Jeanmuttered.

"Whatdoyoumean?"

Jean smiled quickly. "Nothing, just mumbling. Are you still worried about me being a candy striper? I
won'tgoifitreallyupsetsyou."

"Ithinkyou'restilltooweaktobevolunteeringforajobthatpaysnothing."

"Butifitdidpaywell,Iwouldbestrongenough?"

Hermotherslappedherplayfullyonthearmwithamagazine."That'snotwhatImeanandyouknowit
Youshouldrestwhileyouhavethechance.Whydidyoutellthenursesyouwerecominginanyway?Isit
sothatyoucanseeLenny?Youcanseehimwithoutworking."

"IdowanttobeclosetoLenny,that'strue.ButIvolunteeredbecausewhenIwasinthehospitalIsawa
lotofpatientswhoweren'tgettinganyattentionbecausethenursesaretoooverworked."Jeanshrugged."I
don'twanttosoundlikeasaint.Ijustwanttohelpout."

Hermotherstaredather."Butyoudosounddifferent."

Jeanstartedtodenyit,butonlynodded."Carolsaidthesamething.ButIdon'tfeelanydifferentsincethe
accident,exceptformyconstantheadache."

Hermothercontinuedtowatchher."Idon'tbelievethat.Youseemfreerinaway.Youdon'twalkaround
likeyouhavetheweightoftheworldonyourshoulders."

"Ineverusedtodothat."

"Yes,youdid.Youwerealwaystriste."

Jeanshruggedagain."Well,maybeIhadmyreasons."

Hermothernodded."Doyouwanttotalkabout

it?"

"Aboutwhat?"

"Youknow.Yourpregnancy."

Jeanactedshocked."WasIpregnant?God,thosecomasareamazingthings.

HereIsleptthroughanimmaculateconceptionandamiscarriageallinthesametwodays."

"IwaspregnantwithyouwhenIwasyourage,"hermothersaid.

Jeanquieted."Iknow.Ithoughtaboutthatalot."

"BeforeorafteryouhadsexwithLenny?"

Jeanlookedoversharply."OnlyafterIfailedtheE.P.T."

"Youtookoneofthose?Wheredidyougetoneofthose?"

"AtthesamedrugstorewhereIboughtthecondomsthatdidn'twork."Jeanshookherhead."They'renot
hardtouse.Allyouhavetodoisbeabletopeeinatube."Jeanpaused."Whyareyouaskingmethese
questions,Mom?YoumustknowLennydoesn'tstandachanceinhellofknockingmeupagain."

"I'msorrywhathappenedtohim.YouknowImeanthat.I'msurehewasafineyoungman."

"Hestillis,Mama.Beingcrippledhasn'tchangedthat.Notinmybook."

Hermothertouchedherarm."I'mgoingtosaysomethingharshnow,andyou'renotgoingtowanttohear
it.ButIjustwantyoutolistentomeasecondandthinkaboutit.IknowLennyishurtandneedsyourhelp.

Youshouldgoseehimandhelphiminanywayyoucan.ButIthinkitwouldbeamistakeforyounotto
seethefactsforwhattheyare.Lenny'sgoingtobecrippledfortherestofhislife.Atbesthewillbeable
togetaroundinawheelchair.Youcan'tletyourselfgetanymoreattachedtohimthanyoualreadyare."

Jeanspokecalmly."Whynot?"

"Ijusttoldyouwhy.Becausehe'scrippledforlife.Youcan'tbewithamanlikethat.You'llspendallyour
timetakingcareofhim."

AtearsprangintoJean'seye,butshemanagedtokeepherexpressionflat."Iliketakingcareofpeople."

"No,youdon't.You'veneverlikeditbefore.Youcan'tbewithhalfaman."

Jeandrewinapainfulbreath."Firstyou'reworriedthatIwaspregnant.Nowyou'reworriedIwanttobe
withsomeonewhocan'tgetmepregnant.What'sthedeal,Mom?"

Hermothersighed."Maybethisisnotthetimetotalkaboutthis.Yougoseehim.Dowhatyoucanfor
him.We'lltalklater."

Jean stood and looked down at her. "I'll feel the same later. I love him. I didn't know that before, even
when I slept with him, but I know now. Maybe my love can't heal him. Maybe I just lied to Teddy and
thereisn'tanymagicinthisworld.Butatleastmylovemakeshimwholeinmyeyes.Lennyisnothalfa
man."Sheturnedaway."Now,ifyou'llexcuseme,IthinkI'llwaitoutsideforCarol.She'ssupposedto
pickmeupinafewminutes."

Hermothersoundedsad."Idon'twanttofightwithyou,Jean.Ijustwanttoprotectyou."

Jeanpausedatthedoor."Iknowthat.We'renotfighting.We'rejust—arguing."

Sheopenedthedoor.

"Haveaniceday,Mama.Idon'tknowwhenI'llbehome."

While waiting for Carol, Jean reflected on why those close to her were saying she had changed. There
was truth in their comments. Despite Lenny's serious injury and her own wounds, she did feel lighter.
Eachmorningshewokeupanxioustostarttheday.Why,eventhesunwasbrighter,theskybluer.Itwas
asifshehadrefoundachildhoodinnocenceshecouldn'tremembereverhavingenjoyed.Plusherhead
was filled with strange ideas she had never had before. She kept thinking of the stars and planets,
dreaming of ancient civilizations, imagining vast supernatural dramas. She had begun to jot down her
thoughtsinanotebook,althoughshehadnoideawhatshewoulddowiththem.

"Whatdidhappenthatnight?"shewonderedaloud.

Carol arrived a few minutes later. She was on her way to a date with the Russian guy who worked at
McDonald's,theguywiththescarredface.Seemedtheguydidn'thaveacar.Carolwasdressedtokill
andexcitedlysmokingajoint.SheofferedJeanahitthemomentJeangotinthecar.Jeantookthejointand
threwitinthegarbagecanattheendoftheirdriveway.

"Hey!"Carolprotested."Ijustrolledthat."

"Idon'twantany."

"Well,excuseme.Iwantit.Youcouldhavejustsaidnoandhandeditback."

Carolstartedtogetoutofthecar."I'mgettingit."

Jeangrabbedherarmandsmiled."Idon'tevenwanttohavetosmellit.Leaveitinthecan,porfavor."

Carollookedatherasifshewereanaliencreature.

"Youdon'twanttogetloadedanymore?What'sgottenintoyou?"

JeanletgoofCarolandgesturedtotheblock."Youseethisstreet?There'sgraffitioneverywall.There's
garbageoneverylawn.Paintispeelingfromthehouses.Dogsandchildrenarerunningwild.Thisismy
street,butyourstreetisjustasbad."

"So?Weliveonthecrappysideoftown.Whenyougetrichandfamous,youcanmovetoMalibu."

"Idon'twanttomovetoMalibu.IwanttostayinthisneighborhoodbecausethisiswhereIgrewup.I
wanttocleanupthisplace.Ihavegivenitalotofthought.ButIcan'tcleanthisplaceupbymyselfand,
besides,itwilljustgetdirtyagainbecausethemindsoftoomanypeoplearoundherearedirty.Iknowwe
getscrewedinschool.Wehavetheworstteachersandtheugliestbuildings.

Iknowwegetscrewedatworkbecausewe'renotwhite.ButIthinkwe'rescrewingourselveswithallthe
drugswe'retaking.Look,youandIhavebeenstonedsinceweweretwelve.Haven'tyougottensickofit
yet?"

Carolstaredatherdumbfounded."Idon'tknow.Iguess."

"I'msickofit.I'mnotgettingloadedagain,ever."

"Butyou'llstillsmokepotnowandthen,won'tyou?"

"Carol.I'mnottakinganything.AndIdon'twantyouto,either."

Carolwasannoyed."Right,great.IfIdon'twanttobeMissPurity,Ican'tbeyourfriendanymore.You
knowit,Jean,youmightbenicernowadays,butyou'realsoturningintoaroyalpainintheass."

"Ididn'tsayyoucouldn'tbemyfriendanymore.It'sjustthateverytimeyoulightupajointaroundme,I'm
goingtothrowitaway.Andyouwon'tbeabletostopme'causeIcankickyourassanyday."Jeansmiled
sweetly."ButIstillloveyou,Carol."

Carolputthecaringear."ThankGodforthat."

Theyheadedforthehospital.ThedaywashotandCarol'sair-conditioninghadn'tworkedsincethelast
ice age. Jean rolled down her window and looked at the houses she had seen every day of her life.
Somehow, it was as if she were seeing them for the first time. It was true, most of them were in poor
shape,butJeancouldseethepotentialthere.Everywhereshelooked,shesawallkindsofpossibilities.

"Howlongareyouworkingatthehospital?"Carolasked.

"Threehours.That'sallthey'llletmewithmyinjuries,andIhadtopushforthose."

"Whyareyoudoingit?"

"SoIcanstealhospitaldrugs."

"Butyoujustsaidyoudon'twanttogetloadedanymore?"

Jean laughed. "Mensof See what all that mota has done to your brain? I'm not going to steal drugs. I
volunteeredtoworkatthehospitalbecausetheyneedhelp.That'stheonlyreason."Carolwasimpressed.
"That'sneat.Maybeyou'llgettogivesomeway-coolgirlorguyashotintheass."

Jeancouldn'tstoplaughing."Theydon'tletcandystripersgiveshots.Certainlynottoway-coolgirlsand
guys."

"Well,Idon'tknowwhattheydo."

"Tellmewhat'shappeningwithyou?Whyareyougoingoutwithaguy?"

"He'snotexactlynormal,youknow."

"Iunderstandthat.Butheisahe.Thatmakeshimdifferentfromagirl."

Carolgiggled."That'strue."

"Look,areyoustillalesbianornot?Ijustwanttoknowforfuturereference.Ifyou'renot,thenIcanquit
defendingyou."

"Doesitbotheryoutodefendme?"Carolasked.

"No.Itturnsmeon.Butanswermyquestion."

"I don't know the answer. I just know I like this guy. But I still like girls. Maybe I'm bisexual." Carol
paused."Doesthatgrossyouout?"

"No,"Jeansaidhonestly."Itmakesyoucomplex.Ilikethatinaboyoragirl."

Carolnodded."Iliketothinkitgivesmecolor."

"Justrememberthataguycangetyoupregnantwhereagirlcan't."

"Ihaveyoutoremindmeofthat."Carolpaused.

"WillyougettohelpLennytoday?"

Jeansighed."Idon'tknowifIcanhelpLenny.I'veseenhimeverydaysinceIwokeup,buthehardlytalks
to me. I keep thinking he'll feel better when the bones in his back have healed enough so he can start
physicaltherapy.Lyinginbedalldaywoulddepressanybody."

"Whenwillhebeabletogetintoawheelchair?"

"Notforawhile.Anothercoupleofmonths."

"Thatlong?"

"Atleast.Wherehisbackbroke,theyhadtofusethespinetogether.Thattakestimetoheal."

"Willheeverwalkagain?"Carolasked.

Jeanhesitated."Thetraditionalmedicalanswerisno.That'stheanswerhe'ssupposedtolearntoaccept.
ButIdon'tbelieveit.Ican'thelpbutthinkhisconditionisonlytemporary."Sheshookherhead.

"MaybeI'mjustfoolingmyself."

"Ihopehegetsbetter.Hey,haveyouseenDarlenelately?"

"No.Shenevertalkstome.Shenevercametovisitmeatthehospital.What'swithher?"

"IthinkshestillplanstogoafterJuan,"Carolsaid.

"Afterallthat'shappened?Youcan'tbeserious."

Jeanwasthoughtful."I'dliketotalktohermoreaboutwhathappenedthatnightLennyandIgothurt.You
know,weirdasthismaysound,Idon'tevenknowifshewasstilltherewhenwefell."

"Ithinkshewas,"Carolsaid."Ithinkshe'stheonewhocalledtheambulance."

"Butyou'renotsure?"

"No.WhatdoesLennysay?"

"Thathecan'tremember."

"Doyoubelievehim?"Carolasked.

Jeanshrugged."Idon'tknowwhyhe'dlietome."

Sheadded,"Wecan'tletDarlenegoafterJuan.Itwouldbeadeathsentenceforher."

Carollookedworried."Maybeforallofus."

CaroldroppedJeanoffatthehospitaltwentyminuteslater.ShewasgoingtospendthedaywithScarface,
andJeanassuredhershecouldtakethebushome.Actually,Jeanlikedridingthebus,especiallysinceher
accident.Itwasagoodplacetomeetpeople.Hercandy-striperdutiesweresimple:shedeliveredmeals
to patients. But even this job turned out to be complex with the elderly patients. Not one but two old
womenthoughtshewastheirgranddaughter.AtfirstJeandeniedtherelationship,butwhenshesawhow
muchitmeanttothewomentohaveavisitfromagranddaughter,Jeandecidedtoplayalong,reminiscing
abouteventsshehadnomemoryofandaddingdetailsthewomenhadnomindstodoubt.Onthewhole

she had the most fun with the senior citizens and children. Really, helping people got her high, and
somehowshehadknownitwouldhappen.

The patient who affected her the most, though, was a teenage girl named Debra Zimmerer. She was
eighteen,thesameasJean,anddying.JustbeforeJeandeliveredherfood,thenursestoldherthatDebra
hadleukemia,andtheyfeltshewasn'tgoingtomakeitWhenJeanbroughtinhertray,shefoundDebra
lying in bed and reading J.R.R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings, which Jean had read in the hospital.
Debra was worn-out pretty, with faded brown eyes as weary as those of a sick model in an old oil
painting.Shewasfivefeetfiveandweighedmaybeeightypounds.Jeantookonelookatherandfelta
painfulstabinhergut,butsomehowshemanagedtosmileasshesetdownthetray.

"Awesomebook,huh?"Jeanasked.

Debrasetthefatbookaside."Iguess.I'mjustnearthebeginning."

"Keepgoing.Itkeepsgettingbetterandbetter.Infact,Ithinkit'sthebeststoryIeverread."Jeanliftedthe
lidoffherplate."Wouldyoulikesomethingtoeat?Ibroughtyouchicken,butifyoudon'tlikeittheyhave
somekindoffish."

Debrasatupweakly."I'mnotthathungry."

"Howaboutsomethingtodrink?Ihaveapplejuiceororangejuiceorgingerale."

Debranodded."Icoulddrinksomegingerale."

JeanopenedthecanandpouredDebraaglass.Debra'svoicewasdry,whichJeanunderstoodtobeaside
effect of the morphine she took to control the pain. Debra lifted it to her lips and took a sip. The act
seemedtoexhausther,andsheputdowntheglassquickly.Jeansatonthebedbesideher.

"IsthereanythingelseIcangetyou?"Jeanasked.

Debracoughed."No."

Jeanpattedherontheback."AreyouOK?"

Debranoddedandwipedathercolorlesslips."Yes."

Jean shook her head. "That was a stupid question. I'm sorry, of course you're not OK." She paused. "I
heardyouhaveleukemia."

Debrawatchedher."Yes.It'sadrag.What'syourname?"

"Jean.You'reDebra,right?"

"Yes."Debraglancedatthebook."Couldyoutellmehowthestoryends?"

Jeanforcedasmile."Idon'twanttodothat.It'llspoilitforyou."Thenshestopped,hearingwhatDebra
was really asking her. It was a long story, really three books in one. Debra was not going to live long
enoughtofinishitandsheknewit."Butifyouwantmeto,Ican.IcandoittodayafterIfinishdelivering

thesetrays."

Debrastaredatthefarwallforamoment."Howabouttomorrow?Thatwouldbeagooddayforme.

Jean nodded. "I can come tomorrow evening and tell you the whole story." She added, without even
thinkingaboutwhatshewasgoingtosay,"MaybeIcantellyouoneofmystoriesaswell."

Debrawasinterested."Doyouwritestories?"

Jeanshrugged."I'monlyworkingononesofar.It'saboutthisfamouswriterandhermuse.Onlyhermuse
isatrollwhoappearsoutofherbedroomclosetonedayanddemandshalfherroyalties.I'lltellyouwhat
IhaveofitsofarandyoucantellmewhetheryouthinkIshouldbotherfinishingit."

"OK."Debraloweredherhead."It'llbenicetohaveavisitor."

"Doesn'tanyonecometoseeyou?"

"Justmyfather.ButIcan'ttalktohimbecausehe'stooscaredaboutmebeingsick."Debrahesitated.

"He'safraidI'mgoingtodie."

Jeanspokegently."Areyouafraid?"

Debraraisedherheadandwipedhernose."Yeah.Iknowit'sgoingtohappen,butI'mstillscared.My
doctortoldme."Againshestaredatthefarwall."Ihavenoideawhatit'sgoingtobelike."Sheshrugged.

"Maybeitwon'tbelikeanything.MaybeI'lljustbedeadandthatwillbeit."

"No,"Jeansaidfirmly."Yourbodywilldiebutyou'llgoon."

Debrasmiledsadly."IwishIhadyourfaith."

ItwasJean'sturntohesitatebecauseshereallydidn'tknowwhatshewantedtosaytothepoorgirl.Butat
thesametimeshefeltcompelledtospeak,andshebelievedthatwhatshewouldsaywouldbethetruth.

"It'snotthatIhavefaith.Ijustknowthatyourtimeofdeathisnomoreimportantthanwhenyouchange
yourclothes.Don'taskmehowIknow.Ican'texplainit.Themainthingis,whendeathcomes,youdon't
needtobeafraid.That'simportant.Fearistheonlythingthatcanholdyouback."

Debralistened."Holdyoubackfromwhat?"

"Fromgoingontomorejoy.It'salothardertobebornthantodie.You'llsee,andwhenyoudo,you'llsay
toyourself,'Thatfoolishgirlinthehospitalwasright.'"

"Areyouafool?"

"Sure.Butyouknow,onlyfoolsgetintoheaven."

Debragrinned."Whotoldyouthat?"

Jeanstoodupquicklyfromthebed.Debra'squestionhadaprofoundeffectonher.ForamomentJeanfelt
as if there were two of her standing in the room, one visible, the other a reflection. She felt as if she
should be able to glance over her shoulder and see her other half to answer Debra's question. She felt
inexplicablejoyevenwithadyinggirlwatchingher.

"Someonewise,"Jeansaidsoftly,turningaway.

"I'llseeyoutomorrow."

"Ihopeso,"Debrasaidwithfeeling.

ItwasinevitablethatwhenshefinishedhershiftJeanwouldgoandstandattheendofLenny'sbedandtry
tothinkofsomethinginspiringtosay.Lennyhadbeenmovedtoanormalroomwiththemotorizedbed
thatallowedhimtoberotatedwithouttheassistanceoffournurses.Atpresent,thankfully,hewaslying
faceupandshewasabletoaddresshimratherthanhisscarredback.

Unfortunately, no words of wisdom came to her and he had yet to open his eyes despite her saying his
nameseveraltimes.Sheheardhermother'swordsinhermindandhadtoconvinceherselftheyweren't
true.

"Icanleaveifyouwantmeto,"Jeansaidfinally.

"Butyou'regoingtohavetotellmetoleave.OtherwiseI'lljuststandherefeelingawful.Butmaybethat's
whatyouwant,Lenny,Idon'tknow."

Heopenedhiseyes."YoushouldknowbynowwhatIwant."

Jeansteppedcloser,touchinghisbarearm.Thisroom,likehispreviousone,waswarmerthannormal.
Probablybecausetheykepthimscantilydressedtomakeiteasiertocareforhim.

"Whatdoyouwant?"sheaskedreluctantly.

"Todie,"hesaidflatly.

Therewasanguishinhervoice."No."

"Yes."Finallyhelookedatherface."Ican'tlivelikethis.Yousayyouloveme,Jean.Ifyoudo,thenhelp
meendthis."

Sheclaspedhisrighthand."Youjusthavetoholdonforalittlewhilelonger.

Soonyou'llbeinawheelchairandabletogetout.I'lltakeyoutothebeach.I'lltakeyoutothemovies.
Youcan'timaginehowmanygreatfilmshavecomeoutsinceyou'vebeeninhere.Icanshowyou—"

"Youcantakeme,"heinterrupted."Youcanshowme.That'struebecauseIcan'tdoanyofthosethings
withoutyou.Buthowlongwillyoubethere?Yousayforeverbutwebothknowthat'sB.S.Onedayyou'll
gettiredofpushingacripplearoundandyou'llmeetsomeotherguyandthenyou'llsay,'I'msorryLenny
butyouknowit'satoughworld.'Thenyou'llleave,andwhat'llIdo?I'lltellyou.I'llkillmyself.Butwhy
shouldIhavetowaitforthedaywebothknowisgoingtocome?Idon'twanttogothroughthepain.I

wanttodoitnow.Iwantyoutohelpme."

Jeanwept"Iwon'tleaveyou,Isweartoyou."

Lennystrainedtomovehisheadasclosetohersashecould."Youcangetwhatyouwantifyoukeepyour
eyesopenandmovefast.Abottleofsleepingpills,adozenpackagedshotsofDemerol—eitherofthese
wouldbeenoughtokillme.Areyoulisteningtome,Jean?Ifyoudon'thelpmeyoujustmakeitharderfor
me.I'llhavetoslitmywrists.No,thatwillbetooslow.I'llhavetocutmythroat.Thebloodwillbeall
overtheplace.You'llwalkinhereonedayandthewallswillbesprayedwithredand—"

"Collate!"shecried.

Lennylethisheadfallback."I'mgoingtodoit.YouknowI'mgoingtodoit."

Shesighed,hertearssprinklinghisarm."Youmusthavesomereasontolive."

"None."

"Don'tsaythat."

"Iwanttodietoday."

"Lenny."

"Rightnow."

"Damnyou!Youhavetogiveyourselftime.Ifyoucan'tthinkofareasontolive,thenyouhavetofindone.
Think, Lenny, of everything and everyone in the world. Think of something you want to do. Hold on to
that,atleastuntilyougetoutofhere."Shesqueezedhishand,adesperatenoteinhervoice."Can'tyou
thinkofanything?"

Hestartedtoanswerbutthenstopped,onlystaringatherforseveralseconds.

Hisexpressionbecamestrangelyblank."Maybe,"hemuttered.

Shenodded."Good.That'sastart.Holdontothat.Itcanmakeyoustrong."

"Don'tyouwanttoknowwhatitis?"heasked.

Sheshookherhead."No.Itdoesn'tmatter.Aslongasitkeepsyoualive."

Lennysuckedinawearybreathandclosedhiseyes.

"Butthedayitstopsdoingthat,thenwhat?Willyouhelpmeendit?"

Herheadthrobbed."DoIhaveto?"

"Yes.Youmustpromiseme."

Sheletgoofhishand,lethisarmdrop."Ipromise,"shewhispered.

CHAPTERVII

JEANDIDNOTtakethebushomeaftersheleftthehospital,butrather,tothebeach,HuntingtonBeach,
locatedinOrangeCounty.Itwasalongrideforher,andonthewayshekeptaskingherselfwhyshewas
goingtherewhenSantaMonicaBeachorVeniceBeachwascloserandjustasnice.Indeed,shecouldn't
evenrememberwhenshehadlastenteredOrangeCounty.Yetawaveofnostalgiaspreadoverherasthe
bus headed for the Huntington pier. Staring at the brightly colored shops, she felt strangely at home, at
peaceeven.Shewasgladshehadhoursoffreetime.Thedullacheofherperpetualheadachehadeased
somewhat.

Jeanhadfortydollarsonher.Thefirstthingshedidaftergettingoffthebuswasbuyherselfabathingsuit,
anavybluesinglepieceaffairthatshowedherbreastsandbottomtogoodadvantage.Shewantedtolook
sexy but she also wanted something comfortable to swim in. She also bought herself a beach bag and
towelandheadedforthesandwiththesuiton.

Theareaimmediatelyaroundthepierlookedlikethehappeningplace;shefoundaspotintheshadeofthe
first lifeguard station. The people around her seemed so different from those in her neighborhood, she
thought,withtheirrichsummerattireandperfecthair.Mostofthekidslookedliketheywereridingtheir
daddy's credit card limits. Yet, at the same time they were young and confused like everyone else she
knew.Shecouldn'ttakehereyesoffthem.

Sinceheraccidentshewasalwaysobservingandwatching,likeaspectatorataplayshehadnopartin.

Jeandidnotspendlonglyingonthesand.Soonshewasinthewater,andthemotionofthewaveswas
more than enough to wash away the stress of the last two weeks. She had always been an excellent
swimmer.HerworriesaboutLennyandDebrafelloffassheswamoutthreehundredyardspastthefirst
breakandletherselfbobupanddownonthehugesouthswells.Theairwashot,thewatercool,andthere
wasn'tacloudinthesky.Itwasalmostasifsheswaminparadise.

WhereverIamisparadisebecauseIamthere.Iamjoyitself.

Wherehadsheheardthat?Fromabook?Ateacheratschool?Shecouldn'trememberanditdidn'tmatter
because it was true, she was that joy, and that was all that mattered. She swam farther out and felt the
oceanwelcomeher.

Thebluehorizonseemedtostretchtoinfinityandshefeltasifshecouldkeepgoing.Shefeltcompletely
free.

Thenshebegantofeeltired.Thefatiguecameonherallatonce,andwhensheturnedandsawthatthe
beachwasahalfmileback,shefeltastabofanxiety.

The water felt cold now. She wasn't out of the hospital that long. Her supposedly healed ribs suddenly
didn'tfeelasiftheywereallknittedtogether.

Whatifshecrampedup?Shemightdie.Yetitwasn'tthethoughtofdeaththatfrightenedher.Itwasthe
ideathatshe'dleavewithoutcompletinganimportanttask.ForthefirsttimeinherlifeJeanfeltshewas
onEarthforapurpose.

Sheslowlybegantomakeherwaybackin,conservingherstrengthasbestshecould.Shewashalfwayto
the beach and experiencing exhaustion when the lifeguard boat happened by. The twenty-five-year-old
bronzegodbehindthewheelwavedandaskedifshe'dlikearidetotheshore.Shehumbledherselfand
gaspedthatshewould.Onceaboard,thelifeguardcomplimentedheronherstaminaandherbathingsuit.
Buthedidn'thitonheroranything.Heprobablyrescuedway-coolbabesallday,shethought.Hisname
wasKen,asinBarbieandKen.HekindoflookedlikeKen.

Thewarmsandwasadelicioustreatforherwearygoose-bump-coveredlimbs.

Shelaybackonhertowelandwasoutintenseconds.Shesleptforanhour,anddreamtofthesunandthe
heavens.Sheflewabovemankind'sburningstaronthebackofanangel,whileallworldsspunbelowher.
Worlds of light, worlds of pain—it was all there for her to choose, the angel said. If she wished to go
back.

"Goback,"Jeanwhisperedassheawakenedwithastart.Shesatupandlookedaround,feelingasifshe
hadtostartback.Butnottotheothersideoftown,tohersideoftown.Buttoanotherplace,shethought.

Shestoodandcollectedhertowelandclothes.Withoutknowingwhy,almostasifinadream,shewalked
north.

Two miles from the pier, on a stretch of sand where Huntington Beach ended and Bolsa Chica Beach
began,arowofexpensiveandmultistoriedcondominiumshadbeenerectedtoprovideaviewofCatalina
oneverycleardaySouthernCaliforniahadtooffer.Jeanpausedtostareatthem.Itwasnottheirdecor
thatdrewher—ifanythingshethoughttheyweresomethingofaneyesore,withtheiroversizebalconies
protrudingfromtheirbacksideslikelinesdrawnonablueprintbyanarchitectonacid.Sherealizedshe
had a prejudice against places she knew she'd never be able to afford. Still, the condos drew her
attention,eventhoughshedidn'tlikethem,eventhoughtheyfrightenedher.Howcurious,shethought,to
fearbuildingsshehadneverseenbefore.Yetitwasasifthecondoswerebathedinblackandredlight,in
memoriesofhorrorthatsomeonehaddesperatelytriedtoblotout.

"ButI'veneverbeenherebefore,"Jeanmutteredtoherself.

Horror can attract as well as repel. She felt herself walking toward the buildings, pulled by invisible
stringsthatcouldhavestretchedfromthegroundaswellasfromthesky.Shecontinuedtomoveasifina
dream,herangellonggone,replacedbyabeingfromalowerregionwhowhisperedsilently.Maybeit
was a demon, she thought. Maybe it was just someone's past that had somehow passed by without
touchingher.

Thecondoontheright,inparticular,drewher.Itwasthreestorieshigh,liketheothers,butsomehowit
appearedtaller.Theroofwascoveredwithorangeclayadobe-styletiles.Ametalfencesurroundedthe
building,butthegatewasopen.Withoutaskingpermission,withoutringingabell,shewentinside.She
wentstraighttothespot.Whatspot?Shedidn'tknowwhattocallit.Astainontheground.

Going down on her knees, she touched the dark stain on the smooth concrete and wondered what had
madeit?Whydiditfillherwithsuchdread?Whohaddiedhere?

Yes.That'stherealquestion.It'sabloodstain,Icanseethat.Onlybloodpermanentlyturnsconcretedark.
Onlybloodrefusestofade.Onlybloodneverforgets.

Jeanfeltherhairslipforwardoverhershouldersandfallontothestain.Itwasalmostasifthestrandsof
hairstrainedtosoakupthebloodthathadonceflowedatherknees.Soakitbackintoherhead,deepinto
herbraincells,suffusethemwiththelifeanddeathofthatnight.Whateverhadhappenedhere,sheknew,
had happened in the dark. It had been an act of surprise, an act of vengeance. Jean could feel all those
thingsasshekneltthere.Butmostofallshefeltsorrow.Whoeverhaddiedhere,sheknew,hadcometoa
bitterend.

Jean didn't know how long she remained by the stain. But eventually she became aware of a shadow
stretchingoverherfromabove.Sheraisedhereyesintotheglareofthesunandsawatallelderlyladyin
alovelywhitedress.Shecarriedasmartgrayhandbaginherrighthandanditwasobviousshehadjust
had her hair done. Although she was as old as some of the patients Jean fed in the hospital, she was
nowherenearretirement.Shestooderectandherblueeyeswereclearandalert.

"CanIhelpyou,miss?"sheaskedinapleasantvoice.

Jeanstoodreluctantly.Thestainrepulsedher,whileatthesametimeshewasafraidtoleaveit.Somehow,
itconnectedhertoapartofherselfshefeltsheshouldknow.Shewipedherpalmsoverherknees—the
heatoftheconcretehadslightlyburnedherflesh.Shestillhadhersuiton.

"No,"Jeansaid,realizinghowfoolishshe'dsoundifshespokeofhowthestainpreyedonhermind.She
stoopedtocollectherbag."Iwasjustresting.I'llbeonmyway."

"Thewayyouwerekneelingthere,"thewomansaid."Theexpressiononyourface—Ithoughtyouknew
her."

Jeanstopped."Knewwho?"

Thewomannoddedtothestain."Thegirlwhodiedhere."

Jean felt dizzy. She had to stick out her arm and hold on to a fence to support herself. "Oh, God," she
whispered.

Thewomanputherhandonherarmtosteadyher.

"Areyouallright,dear?"

Jeannoddedweakly."Yes,I'mfine.It'sjust—theheat."Shestraightenedupaswellasshecould,although
theworldcontinuedtowobbleasiftheHuntingtonBeachfaulthadjustdecidedtotryforthetopofthe
Richterscale.Sheadded,

"Ireallyshouldbegoing,"andturnedinthedirectionofthegatebutdidn'tmove.

"Ifyou'dlikeaglassoflemonadebeforeyougo,I'dbehappytogetyouone."

The woman stuck out her hand. "My name's Rita Wilde. I manage several of the condos on this block.
Mostareowneroccupiedbutquiteafewarerentals."

Jeanshookherhand.Hereyeskeptstrayingbacktothemarkontheground.

"Youwerethemanagerherewhenthegirldied?"Jeanasked.

"Yes.Ithappenedayearago.Shewasaboutyourage."Ritacockedherheadupward."Shefelloffthat
balconyrightaboveus."Ritafrowned."Shemighthavelivedifshehadn'tlandeddirectlyonherhead."

"Howdidshefall?"

AshadowcrossedRita'sface."Abunchofteenagerswerehavingaparty.Theparentsweren'thome.The
girl didn't die until near the end of the party. At first everyone thought she jumped. But then the police
figuredoutshehadbeenshoved.Itwasalloverthepapers.Youmusthavereadaboutit."

"Ididn't.NotthatIrememberatleast."Jeannoddedtothestain."Thisisfromwhereshehittheground?"

"Yes.I'vetriedadozentimestoscrubitawaybutitrefusestogo.Thepoorchild.Shewasonlyeighteen."

"I'meighteen,"Jeansaidquickly.

Ritasmiled."Areyou?That'sawonderfulage.WhatIwouldn'tgivetobeeighteenagain.CanIgetyou
thatglassoflemonadenow?"

"No,that'sOK.I'mfeelingabitbetter."Jeanhesitated."Doyourememberthegirl'sname?"

Rita stopped to scratch her head. "It was something Cooper. I can't remember her first name. But I do
knowherparentslivednearAdams.Thefathercamebyacoupleofdaysaftershedied.Italkedtohim
and he told me a little about himself." Rita shrugged. "I guess he just wanted to see the spot where his
daughterhaddied.MaybeI'ddothesame,Idon'tknow."Ritapausedandstudiedher."Areyousureyou
weren'tfriendswiththatgirl?"

Cooper.Adams.Cooper.Thefather.Cooper.

ThewordschilledJeantothebone.

"No,"Jeansaid."Ididn'tknowher.Whydoyouask?"

ItwasRita'sturntolookatthestain."Idon'tknow.It'sjustathoughtIhad."

Jeanbegantobackaway."Thankyouforyourtime,Rita.Haveaniceday."

"You,too,child.Enjoyyourself."

Jeansearchedforatelephonebooththemomentsheleftthecomplex.Shefoundoneoutsideonaliquor
store wall a block over. There was a telephone book; she hastily scanned the white pages and found
sixteen Coopers. She flipped to the map at the front of the book and located Adams, studied the streets
aroundit,thenreturnedtothelistofsixteen.Onlyoneman,StewartCooperonDelaware,livedanywhere
near Adams. She memorized his number and again consulted the map. From where she stood it was
approximatelythreemilestotheman'shouse,butshefiguredshewouldprobablyhavetowalkhalfthat
distancejusttocatchthebushome.ShedecidedtopayMr.Cooperavisit.

Butwhatareyougoingtosaytohim?Ididn'tknowyourdaughterbutI'msorryshe'sdead.And,oh,by

theway,herbloodstainreallyfreakedmeout.

Whenmyhairfellonit,IfeltasifIweretheonewhohaddied.Imaginethat?

Jeandecidedtocrossthatbridgewhenshecametoit.Sheenteredtheliquorstoreandboughtherselfa
tallCoke.Herwalkalreadyhadherdehydrated.

Takingacoupleofslugsfromthebottle,shesetoutforAdams,thistimeheadingsouth,backtowardthe
pier.ShefigureditwouldtakeherclosetoanhourtoreachtheCooperresidence.Plentyoftimeforher
tofigureoutwhatthehellshewasdoing.

Asitturnedout,herestimatewasoverlyoptimistic.Betweenherlongswimandherstillhealingbody,
shecouldn'tdotwenty-minutemiles.ShewasabouttocallacabbythetimeshestumbledontoDelaware,
ninetyminuteslater.

Fortunately the Cooper house wasn't far up from the beach. In fact, it's just over there, she thought The
housewiththewhitepicketfenceandthemapleinfront....

Waitasecond!Ihavetochecktheaddresstoknowwhichhouseitis.Idon'tknowanythingaboutpicket
fences and maple trees. Hell, I couldn 't tell a maple tree from an olive tree, even if it was growing
maples.Thatwastrue,shethought.Butwhatwasalsotruewasthatsherecognizedthehousetheinstant
shesawit.Shedidn'thavetoconfirmherfeelingbycheckingthenumbershe'dobtainedfromthephone
book. The Cooper house was the third house on the right. Still, as she drew closer, she did check the
number against the numbers on the curb. The perfect match brought another wave of dizziness to her
alreadyoverwhelmedbrain.Asdidthesightoftheyoungmaninthedrivewayloadinghispickup.Hewas
tallandhandsomewithdarkhairandanicebuildandthatwascoolandeverything.Butwhatwasnotso
cool,atleastnotatthemoment,wasthathelookedsofamiliar.He,infact,lookedlikesomeoneshehad
knownallherlife.Yetshehadneverseenhimbefore.

"He'sthedeadgirl'sbrother,"shewhisperedtoherself.

Jean walked up to him, probably looking like the overheated radiator that she felt like. His truck was
loadedwithadisassembledbedandachestofdrawers,plusageneroushelpingofwrinkledclothesand
what appeared to be a PC. It didn't take a genius to realize he was moving out. He had a gold-colored
lampinhishandwhenheglancedoverather.Hiseyeswerewarmandblueandyettheysentashiver
downtohertoes.

"CanIhelpyou?"heasked.

"Yes,"shemumbled."Whichwayisthebeach?"

Hepointedtowardthelargebluebodyofwateratherback,theonewiththewavesandthesaltinit,and
thesandybeachbesideit."It'soverthere,"hesaid.

Sheglancedoverhershoulder."Oh,yeah.Ihaveaterriblesenseofdirection."

"You're not from around here?" he asked. The way he spoke, she knew he knew the answer to his own
question—which he should have, because of her inner-city bad-girl accent. Yet, even though she liked
him,shedidn'tlikebeingcategorized.Shestraightenedupandclearedherthroat.

"Howcanyoutell?"sheasked.

Heshruggedandsetdownhislamp."Yourvoice.Yourbathingsuit."

"What'swrongwithmybathingsuit?Ijustboughtit.Iboughtitdownhere."

Hepausedandstudiedherupanddown,perhapswonderingwhathewasgettinghimselfinto,andifit
wasworthit."There'snothingwrongwithit,"hesaidcarefully."Itjustdoesn'tlooklikethekindofsuit
girlsaroundherewear."

"Becausemyassdoesn'tstickout?"

Hesmiled."Ifyoulike.Whereareyoufrom?"

Jeantookastepclosertohim."Guess."

"SouthCentral."

"Closeenough.Doesthatscareyou?"

"Well,sinceitdoesn'tlookasifyou'recarryingaswitchbladeoragunbeneaththatsuit,I'dhavetosay
no."

"Imighthaveoneinmybag.Youneverknow."

Hegesturedtohisjammedtruck."Ifyouaregoingtorobme,thesearealltheworldlypossessionsIhave.
Takewhatyouwant,Idon'tcare."

Jeansmiled."I'mnotasdangerousasIlook.Areyoumovingoutoristhatastupidquestion?"

Henodded."Yeah,it'sfinallytimetoleavethenest.IfoundastudioapartmentuponBaker.It'sonthe
thirdfloor.There'sapool,buttheplaceiskindofsmall.ButthenIdon'thavealotofstuff."

"Didyoumovethatchestofdrawersbyyourself?"

"Yeah."

"I'mnotimpressed.That'sagoodwaytowreckyourback.Isn'tanyofyourfamilyhometohelpyou?"

"There'sjustmymomanddad,andIwanttomovewhilethey'reout."Heshookhisheadthoughtfully.

"Mymotherisn'texactlycrazyaboutmeleaving."

"Isitbecauseyou'retheironlychild?"

Hehesitated."Yeah.Therearejustthethreeofus."

Jeanofferedherhand."Myname'sJeanRodrigues.What'syours?"

"JamesCooper."Heshookherhand."Pleasedtomeetyou."

It was weird to touch him. It was like touching a mirror, while an old friend stood behind her. "I bet
peoplecallyouJimmy,"shesaid.

Herremarkmadehimstiffen."Notusually.MostpeoplejustcallmeJim."

"Thenthat'swhatI'llcallyou."Shenoddedtothetruck."Itlookslikeyou'reaboutreadytotakethisload
over.I'llgiveyouahandifyoulike."

Heroffertookhimaback.Butthenhesmiled.

"That'sniceofyou.Butyou'redressedforthebeach.Youshouldjustgoandenjoyyourself."

"Ihaveanulteriormotiveinwantingtohelpyou,Jim.Itookthebusoverhereandit'lltakemetwohours
togethome.IfIhelpyoumoveyourstuff,thenIwasthinkingmaybeyoucouldgivemearidehome."She
added,"You'regoingtoneedsomehelpifyourplaceisonthethirdfloor."

Heraisedhiseyebrowsatheroffer.Shecouldseehewasshy,asweetguy.Bythefaintlinesaroundhis
eyes, she could also see that he had suffered in his life. It had to do with his sister, she knew. Yet she
didn'tfeelthiswasthetimetoaskabouther.

"Canyouworkinabathingsuit?"heaskedfinally.

"Areyouafraidmybreastsmightpopout?"

Heblushed."Iwasn'tworriedaboutthatexactly."

"Ihaveclothesinmybaghere,alongwithmyforty-fourMagnum."Shepaused.

"Iwouldliketohelpyou."

Hewatchedher."Why,Jean?"

Shesmiled."BecauseI'mgratefultoyou.Youshowedmewheretheoceanis."

CHAPTERVIII

ILIVEDINTHEREALITYofmyowncreation.Ihadputonmymemorycap,however,anddidn'tknow
thatIwasbothmyownGodanddevil.IwasShariCooperandIwasaliveonplanetEarthandbackin
highschool.ItwasmysophomoreyearandatthemomentnothingwasmoreimportantthanPeterNichols
asking me to the prom. I could see him approaching in the crowded hallway. My heart pounded like a
pistoninmychestwhenhesmiledatme.

"Shari,"hesaid."Howareyoudoing?"

MyhandswerefilledwithschoolbooksandIworriedtheywouldberuinedwiththesweatpouringoff
mypalms.Peterlookedsogoodthen,hiscurlyblondhairhanginginhisblueeyes.Standingsocoolinthe
hustleandbustleofthebreakbetweenfirstandsecondperiod.Likehehadjustpitchednineinningsofno-
hitballintheWorldSeriesandwasabouttobehandedtheMVPaward.

"Great,"Isaid."Howareyou?"

"Cool.Goingtothepromtomorrownight?"

"Maybe."

"Whymaybe?"

Ishruggedlikeitwasnobigdeal."Haven'tgotadateyet."

"Doyouwanttogowithme?"heasked.

Imanagedtoholdontomybooks."Sure."

"WhattimeshouldIpickyouup?"

"Howaboutsix?"

"Sixisgood."Hepattedmeonthebackandsteppedpastme."Seeyouthen."

Wow,Ithought.PeterJacobs.Whataguy.ShariandPeter.Whatacouple.

Then it was Friday night, just like that, and I was upstairs finishing my hair and the doorbell rang. The
noisestartledme;mybrushhandlebrokeoffinmyhand,thebristlesinmyhair.ButIjustlaughed;Iwas
high as a kite. I ran down the stairs to find my mother and father opening the door for Peter. My father
pumpedhishandandmymothergavehimaquickhug.TheylikedPeter,ofcourse.Hewasawinner.He
wasmyfastball.IwashopingforsomefasttimestonightasIhurriedtowardhim.Histuxwasthecolorof
sandonanoceanfloor.Hesmiledatmeandhandedmeacorsageaslargeandaswhiteasthemoon.

"Youlookgreat,Shari,"hesaid.

"Thankyou."Iacceptedthecorsage."Youdon'tlooksobadyourself."

Myparentsstoodnearbyandbeamedhappily.

We drove to the prom in a silver limo that Peter had rented. The dinner and dance were in the same
expensivehotel.Therewassteakandlobster,musicandcandles.WedancedlongandslowandPeterput
hisarmsaroundmeandtoldmehowmuchhecaredforme.Iwhisperedthesame.Avotewastakenon
fancyfoldedcardsandnotlongafterPeterandIwerecrowned"CoolestCouple."

Thebandplayedusaspecialsong—"StairwaytoHeaven."IfeltasifIhaddiedandgonetoheaven.And
thenightwasstillyoung.Peterkissedmyearandtoldmehehadrentedaroomupstairs.DidIwanttosee
it?Sure,Isaid.Ifthat'swhathewanted.Henoddedandtookmyhandandwestrodetowardtheelevator,
whileallmygirlfriendswatchedinenvy.

The suite was plush. There were flowers, a bottle of champagne on ice, soft music on the stereo. We
drankatoasttoourselves.ThenPeterkissedmeandledmeintothebedroom.Thelightwasdownlow.
Hebegantoundressme.

"Doyouwanttomakelove?"heaskedsoftly.

"Yes.Yes.Doyou?"

"Yes,"hesaid."Helpmegetoutoftheseclothes."

"Iloveyou,Peter,"IsaidasIunbuttonedhisshirt.

"Iloveyou,Shari."

Iopenedhisshirtandrubbedmypalmoverhishardmuscles.

Ametallic-coloredmonsterburstoutofthecenterofhischest.

"Eehhh!"Iscreamedandleaptback.Inhorror,IwatchedasPetertoppledtothefloor,hisbloodandguts
splattering the carpet. The monster climbed out of his ruined cavity and stood upright. Its head was
enormous.Asitpeeredatme,itsmouthopenedandabandofrazor-sharpteethprotrudedandsnappedat
theair.Inthespaceofsecondsitgrewtoeightfeettall.

Toonumbtoshoutforhelp,Ibackedintothecornerandtriedtobeinvisible.

But the monster was hungry and wanted prime California girl flesh. Slowly it moved toward me, acid
slimedrippingfromitsmouthandburningthecarpet.

Itwouldusetheacidtodigestme,Iknew.Ihadmaybethreesecondsleftalive.

AtlastIfoundmythroatandletoutabloodcurdlingscream.

Themonsterstoppedandpeeredatmecuriously.ItspokeinPeter'svoice.

"DidIscareyou?"heasked.

Iwasabouttofaint."What?"Igasped.

"It'sme,Peter,"thealiensaid.

Ifrowned."Isthatacostume?"Ipointedtohisdeadbody."Whatthehellisgoingonhere?"

"We'reattheprom,"hesaid."Thisissupposedtobethenightofourlives."

Iwashavingtroubletakingitallin."Butareyouinsidethatmonster,Peter?Itlookssoreal."

"Oh,it'srealenough."ItturneditshugeheadbacktowardPeter'sbody."Youwanttoseeiteatwhat'sleft
ofme?"

"No!"Icried."Getoutofthatsuitnow.You'remakingmesicktomystomach."

Iwassuddenlyangry."Ididn'tlikebeingscaredlikethat.Youalmostgavemeaheartattack."

"Icouldn'thavedonethattoyou."

"No,I'mserious.Ialmosthadaheartattack."

The monster sat down on the floor. "You can't have a heart attack, Shari. Don't you remember? You're
dead."

Itallcamebacktomeinaninstant.ThenIwasreallypissed.Istrodeoverandwhackedthemonsteron
thehead."Webothagreedtoblockourmemories.Weweresupposedtogotothepromlikeitwasreal.
Sincewhenhaveyouknownthiswasallmakebelieve?"

"Sinceitstarted."

"That'snotfair!HereI'mswooningunderyourattentionandyou'resittinginyourfatheadandchucklingat
me.That'sit,that'sthelastromanticfantasyI'mactingoutwithyou.I'mgoingtofindsomeotherghost.
MaybeanEnglishmanfromthelastcentury.Thoseguysweresupposedtohavemanners.

I'mreallyangryatyou,Peter."

The alien shrugged. "Sorry. I didn't mean to hold on to my memory. It just happened. Then as the night
draggedonIstartedtogetbored.Ijustwantedtoliventhingsup."

"Oh,thankyou!Ifeelmuchbetternow!Yougettogotothepromwithmeandscrewmeafterwardand
you'rebored.ThanksalotMr.MVP."

"Wedidn'texactlyscrewafterward."

"We were about to. Why did you choose that moment to have an alien burst out of your chest? Do you
knowwhatthatdoesformyself-esteem?"

"You'renotsupposedtohaveself-esteemproblems."

"Whynot?"

"Youdon'thaveabodyforonething."

"So?I'mstillaperson.I'mstillwalkingaroundintheimageofthebodyIhadonEarth."

"Why?"

Istopped."Whywhat?"

"Whydon'tyouswitchtoanotherbody?"

"What'swrongwiththisone?Isthatwhyyougotboredtonight?Iwasn'tcuteenoughforyou?God,I'm
happyIdidn'tdateyouwhenIwasalive.Iwouldhaveendedupkillingmyself.Andwouldyougetoutof
thatstupidalienform?

Youreallyaremakingmesick.Notthatthesightofyouroldselfprobablywon'tdothesamething."

The monster vanished, as did Peter's dead body. He stood before me as I had met him at my funeral,
wearingbluejeansandabaseballcap."Ijustwantedtoexperimentisall,"hesaid."Youdon'thavetoget
allbentoutofshape."

Isighed."Isupposenot.It'sjustthatInevergottogotothepromwithyou.Idreamedaboutitsomuch
andthisseemedlikeagoodchancetohaveadreamcometrue.Youcanunderstandthat,can'tyou?"

Peterputanarmaroundme,andinthatmomentitfeltprettyrealtome,andwonderful,histouch,likethe
touch of my oldest and best friend. I was still having trouble with all this consciousness business but I
supposedtheRishiwouldexplainittomemoreifIasked.OnceagainIwasgladhehadpromisednotto
observemyfantasylife.Hewassowise—Ididn'twanttoactthefoolinfrontofhim.

"Wecandoitagain,Shari,"Petersaid."WecanstartfromwhenIaskedyouout.Thistime,Ipromise,I'll
havemymemoryblocked.Wecanevenhavesexifyouwant."

Ilookedathim."IfIwant?Don'tyouwant?"

Heshrugged."Sure."

"Whatdoesthatmean?Hasbeingdeadaffectedyoumorethanyou'veleton?"

Hetookastepback."AreyouaskingmeifI'mimpotent?"

"It'snothingtobeashamedofifyouare.Wecantalkaboutit."

Peterwasbored."Shari,thinkforasecond.HowcanIbeimpotentwhenIcansproutadozententacles
andtalonsintwosecondsandeatyoualiveifIwantto?"

Ipaused."Iseeyourpoint.Nevermind."

"Doyouwanttostartthedateover?"

Ipacedthehotelroom."No.Iwanttodosomethingmoremeaningful.Let'sgoexploring.TheRishisaid

wecouldgoanywherewewantedintheuniversejustbywishingit.I'vealwayswantedtoseethesolar
system.Interested?"

Petersmiled.Suchalovelyboyandsmile."Always,"hesaid.

WehungsuspendedaboveplanetEarth,seeingitasastronauts,andmore.Foroureyesweresensitiveto
colors and feelings ordinary humans failed to perceive. I saw that the Earth had both a physical and
spiritualdimension.

Much of the Middle East, for example, was clean desert covered with dark astral clouds. Intuitively I
understoodthedarknesswasfromtheconstantstrifethere,andthattheareacouldnotgoonthewayithad
beenandsurvive.

WhileotherpartsoftheEarthshonewithsoftwhiteradiance.TheHimalayasinIndia,inparticular,were
beautifultobehold,andtheWestCoastofAmericaalsohadsomepointsofbrilliance,asdidafewother
spotsontheglobe.Butitsaddenedmetoseethatthelightswerefewcomparedtothedarkness.

"ToobadTimemagazineneverhadapictureoftheEarthlikethisontheirfrontcover,"IsaidtoPeter,
whofloatedbesideme.

"Itisstrangetoseethathateissomethingyoucansee,"heagreed.HepointedtotheMiddleEast."Ido
hopetheygettheiracttogetherthere.Itlooksreadytoexplode."

"Ifeelthatway,too.It'salmostasifitwouldtakeanexplosiontobreakthetensionthere."

"Orahugewaveoflight,"Petersaid.

Inoddedthoughtfully."Thatwouldbepreferable."

"Well,there'snothingwecandoaboutitrightnow.Wherewouldyouliketogonext?"

Iturnedaround,seeinganoldfriendbehindme.

"Let'sgototheMoon!"

TherewasnoobvioussensationofspeedaswesoaredtowardEarth'snaturalsatellite:nowindinour
hair,noroarofarocketengine.Yettheflightwasexhilarating.HavingtheMoonrushsteadilytowardme,
I never felt so free, so possessed by the certainty that all this was indeed my creation, as much as
everybodyelse's,aplaygroundmadeforallofusbyGodtolearninandenjoy.

With a simple thought, I slowed as we neared the silver globe. But Peter was having too much fun and
rammed headfirst into the Moon. We danced about on a crater-marked field, and then were off again,
heading for the fourth planet from the sun, the red planet. Mysterious Mars. Here I discovered both
wonderandfear.OnapurelyphysicallevelMarsappeareduninhabited,butstudyingitwiththespiritual
eyeIwaslearningtouse,Iwastreatedtotwointerlockingvisions.OnwhatIcanonlydescribeasalow
vibration,Isawaraceofdemonicreptilianbeings.Acruelcivilizationthatfoughtandwarredwithitself
andeveryotherlivingbeinginitsdimension.Heretherewasnolight,nolove,andasaresult,onlypain.I
couldonlytuneintoitforafewsecondsbeforebeingforcedtoshutitout.

"Doyouseeit?"IaskedPeter.

Henoddedgravely."It'slikehell.Yetit'stherewiththeotheraswell.Howcanthatbe?Tworacesonone
worldandourscientistsonEarthcanseeneither."

"I think there's a lot that science has yet to learn." I focused on the other race. I say focused only in a
mannerofspeaking.Actually,IfoundIcouldperceivemoreby"lettinggo"inside.Severaloctavesabove
thereptilianswereenchantedcitiesofbeingswholookedsimilartopeopleonEarth.ImmediatelyIwas
reminded of the haunting civilization the author Ray Bradbury had described in his book The Martian
Chronicles. For these were a beautiful people with long shiny gowns, wine-colored faces, and sleek
bodies.Canalsfilledwithluminousdarkliquidscrisscrossedtheirglobeandtheyfloatedfromtownto
townalongthesewateryhighwaysondelicateboatsthatcouldhavebeenmadeofglass.

Musicfilledtheirtowns,sadandserious,yetupliftingandbeautifulaswell,echoingsoftlyoverthestark
reddesertsaswellasintodeepspace.Ifthesepeople—IpreferredtothinkofthemastherealMartians
—were aware of the hellish dimension around them, they gave no sign of it. Peter seemed to read my
mind.

"IwonderifwritersonEarthsomehowtunedintothesetworacesandwroteaboutthem,"hesaid.

"Marsisoftendescribedinliteratureasbothevilandmagical."

"It's possible," I replied, thinking that when I returned to Earth as a Wanderer I wanted to write about
Mars,preferablyaboutthebeautifulrace.

WetookoffforVenusnext,andevenapproachingthesecondplanetfromtheSun,wewerethrilledbythe
lightandjoythatemanatedfromthatwhiteglobe.

Wehadtostopfaroffinspacetoobserveit,thevibrationsweresohighourghostbodiescouldn'tstand
it.ThroughtheradianceIglimpsed—anditwasonlyaglimpse—araceofbeingsmuchfartheralongthe
pathofevolutionthaneitherhumanityorthelovelyMartians.ItwasasifVenuswereinhabitedbyangels,
andIunderstoodwhyonEarthitwasusuallyreferredtoastheplanetoflove.

"Idon'tthinkwecangetanycloser,"Isaid.

"We'reprobablytoogrossforthem,"Peteragreed.

"Iwonderwhytheyaresomuchaheadofus?"

"I don't know if it's so much a thing of being ahead or behind," I said, once more feeling for the truth
inside,somethingIhadbeguntodooutofhabitsincetalkingtotheRishi.Iwonderedifhehadrekindled
theabilityinme,andifitwouldfollowmebacktoEarthasaWanderer."Ithinktheystartedbeforeus.
Theyareaswewillbeinthefuture."

Peterlaughed."Intenmillionsyears?"

"Maybeitwon'ttakesolong,"Isaid,oncemorefeelingIhadspokenthetruth.

TheRishimentionedatransitionaltimeonEarth,inthenextfewdecades.Iwonderedifwemightnotjoin

ourcousinsonVenussooner,ghostsincluded.

Without consciously deciding on our next destination, we began to drift away from Venus and the Sun.
Soonwewereoutamongtheglobularclustersandnebula.Neverinmywildestimaginationasamortal
hadIimaginedsuchcolors,suchbeautyandvastnessofscale.ItwasasifallmylifeIhadlivedinagreat
palace,butkeptmyheadinthecloset.OnEarthallIhadcaredaboutwaswhowaslookingatmeand
talkingaboutme,whileIlivedinauniverseofmysteryandadventure.Imadeanothervowtomyself,to
study astronomy when I returned as a Wanderer. I did not merely float through the star fields, I merged
withthem.

"We'reallstars,"ItoldPeter.

"Yes.IwasthinkinghowwhenmyfatherdiedwhenIwastenyearsoldIusedtosearchforhiminthe
sky."

Awaveofsorrowsweptoverme,butitwassweetaswell,bittersweetlikesourcandy."WhenyoudiedI
lookedforyouinthesky."Ireachedout,acrossthelight-years,andtookhishand.Myloveforhimthen
waslikethelightofthestarsthatshoneallaroundus,andIknewitwouldburnforages."AndnowIhave
foundyou."

Hesqueezedmyhand.Hedidn'thavetosayanything.

Wefloatedforages,seeingmorewondersthananystarshiplogcouldeverrecord.Eventuallywefound
ourselvesatthecenterofthegalaxy.Herethestarswereolder,aswerethemyriadraces,andthepeace
and bliss they radiated were like that from a million Venuses combined. Inside, I understood that these
peoplehadlearnedallthatthisuniversehadtooffer,andthattheyweremerelywaitingforthe"restofus"
to catch up so that they could go on, where, I didn't know, another dimension perhaps, another creation
surely,whereGodwasasrealasthesky,andaseasytotouchaswaterinthesea.Inthecenterofthis
floatedwhatIbelieveourastronomerswouldcallagalacticblackhole.Thelightthatstreamedfromboth
thestarsandtheworldsswirledaroundtheobjectinacosmicwhirlpool,disappearingdownashaftthat
seemedtohavenobottom.Fascinated,ImovedtowarditbutPeterstoppedme.

"Wedon'tknowwhereitgoes,"hesaid,andforthefirsttimesincehehadtoldmeabouttheShadowin
thedaysaftermydeath,therewasfearinhisvoice.

"Nothingcanharmus,"Isaid."Iwanttogoinside."

"Ifyougoinside,youmightnotgetout."

Istudiedhim.ThroughoutourstarryjourneyhehadbeenasenthralledasIwas.ButnowIsensednotonly
hisfearbutthereasonforit,somethinghadhappenedtohimwhilewewerestillonEarth.YetIcouldn't
pinpointthecause,andwhatithadtodowiththeportaltoinfinitythatyawnedbeforeus.Theblackhole
drewmelikeamagnet,andIrealizedwehadnotstumbleduponitbychance.IhadtogoinitbeforeI
couldreturntoEarthandaccomplishmymission.

"Iamgoing,"Isaid."Youcanfollowmeifyouwish."

Hehesitated."I'llwaitforyou,Shari.Takecare."

"Iamtakencareof,"Isaid.

Imovedtowardtheportal.

Asstarsvanishedbehindme,sodidtheIthatwasShariCooper.Wordsfailmehere.Howtodescribethe
knowledgeofanythingwithoutthepresenceofaknower?Intheinterioroftheblackholetheknowledge
andtheknowerwereone.Iceasedtobeawareofthings.Iwasawarenessitself.

Still,here,outsideofallplaces,IsensedmytrueplaceandfinallyunderstoodtheRishi'swords.

"Ourrelationshipisabeautifulthing.Weare,ultimately,thesameperson,thesamebeing.Butifthatis
too abstract a concept for you, then think of a huge oversoul made up of many souls. Throughout many
livesonmanyworlds,thesedifferentsoulslearnandgrow..."

Iwasnotsingular.ManypeoplewereI,andyetwewereoneaswell.Allthattheyhadexperienced,Ihad
experienced.ThedifferentlivestheRishihadspokenof,Ihadlivedthemall.IwastheMasterinEgypt
instructing the young student outside in the pyramid. The student was also me. I was enlightened and
ignorantatthesametime,andIsawitwasnotpossibletohaveonewithouttheother.Nolightwithout
darkness. No day without night. No compassion without suffering. No good without evil. Everything
workedtogether,ultimately—aweaveofdifferent-coloredthreadsforminganunfathomablyrichtapestry.
Howfoolishweweretotrytoexplainthemysteryoflife,Ithought.Themysterycouldbelivedbutnever
explained.AnymorethanthemindofGodcouldbeexplained.IfeltsoclosetoGodrightthenIimagined
myselfaperfectfool.AndIwashappy.

Isensedsomethingelseaswell.Peterwaspartofme,asmuchastheRishi.Itwasrightthatheshouldbe
withmeenjoyingthisglimpseofourhigherselves.

But he was not with me because he was still supposed to be on Earth. He had committed suicide, I
rememberedthatnow,andIcouldseetheeffectthatacthadsetinmotionthroughoutouroversoul,likea
ripplesetoutacrossamountainlakethatwasfinallysettlingdowntofreezeforthewinter.Hehadfeared
to follow me because his fear still followed him. Even this far into eternity. It was this realization that
jerkedmebackintonormalspacetime.

Normalasfarasghostswereconcerned.ImaterializedoutsidetheblackholebesidePeter.

"Whathappened?"heasked.

"HowlonghaveIbeengone?"

"Justaninstant."

"It felt like ages." Looking at him I remembered his comment about how the situation on Earth was no
longerourconcern.IhadnotdiscussedwhattheRishitoldmeaboutmygoingbackasaWanderer.NowI
realizeditwasbecausehisdestinywasseparatefrommine.Icouldhavefunwithhimfornow,butthefun
wouldhavetoend.

"What'sthematter?"heasked.

"Nothing."

"Whathappenedtoyouinthere?"Therewasanedgetohisvoice.

"It'sdifficulttoexplain."Ireachedoverandtookhishandagain."Wehavetogoback.Ihavetospeakto
theRishi."

"Why?"

WouldImisshimonEarth?Iaskedmyself.ImissedhimnowandIhadn'tevenlefthim.Andhewasa
partofme.Itwassuchaparadox.HowcouldIsucceedasaWandererwithouttheloveofPeterbeside
me?

"BecauseIneedhishelp,"Isaid.

CHAPTERIX

JEANRODRIGUESdrovewithCarolDazmintowardthecemeterywhereDebraZimmererwasburied.
It was late August; over two months had elapsed since Jean's fall off Lenny Mandez's balcony. The
summerhadbeenwarmevenbyLosAngelesstandards.JeanhadspenttheweeksworkingatherSubway
Sandwichjobaswellasdoingvolunteerworkatthehospital.Shehadalsotriedtoraiseherbasicskills
inmathandsciencetoenterjuniorcollege.Shewastobetestedthenextweektoseeifshecouldayoid
beingplacedinidiotclasses.Whileshewasinhighschoolshehadneverconsideredgoingtocollege,but
nowitseemedinevitablethatsheshouldgo.ShewaspresentlytryingtotalkCarolintojoiningher.

"I'm not saying a college degree guarantees happiness," Jean said. "But not having one guarantees that
you'llbeworkinggrungejobstherestofyourlife."

"Idon'tknow,"Carolsaid."Icouldbecomeahairdresser.Theymakeprettymuchalana."

"Youcan'tspendtherestofyourlifecuttinghair.You'dgomadfromboredom."

"ButhowcanIgotocollege?I'mtoostupid.Iwashardlyabletograduatefromhighschool."

"You'renotstupid.You'rejustlazy.Youneedtofocus.Ifyoucouldbeanythingyouwanted,whatwould
youchoose?"

Carolthoughtamomentasshesteeredthemdownthefreewayoff-ramp.

Debrahadbeenburiedacrossthetownfromthem,atRoseHillsinuptownWhittier.

"I'dliketobearock'n'rollstar."

"Youcan'tgotocollegetostudytobearock'n'rollstar.Picksomethingelse."

"Butthat'swhatIwanttodo."

"Butyoucan'tsing.Youcan'tplayaninstrument.Youcan'tevendance."

"That'swhatI'msaying.That'swhyIshouldbeahairdresser."

Jean sighed. "You don't have just two choices in life. You have a million. Why don't you study to be a
nurse?Ithinkyou'dmakeagreatone."

"WouldIhavetogivepeopleshots?SportyonceaskedmetoshoothimupwithheroinandIcouldn'tdo
it.Itoldhimtofindhisowngoddamnvein."

"Givingsomeoneashotthat'sgoodforhimisalotdifferentfromshootingsomeoneupwithheroin.

Whichremindsme.IheardthroughthegrapevinethatDarlenewaslookingtobuyapiece."

Carolnodded."Iheardshe'sshopping."

"Ifyouheard,theneverybody'sheard.Surelyshecan'tbeplanningtogoafterJuanafterallthistime."

"Idon'tknow.Thetimingmakessensetome."

"Whatdoyoumean?"Jeanasked,althoughsheknewtheanswer.

Carolshrugged."Lennyjustgotoutofrehab.He'sinachair.He'smobile.

Maybeshe'sbuyingthepieceforhim.MaybehestillwantsJuan."Caroladdedgently,"Maybehefigures
hedoesn'thavemuchtolosetryingforhim."

"Damnyou!Youhavetogiveyourselftime.Ifyoucan'tthinkofareasontolive,thenyouhavetofindone.
Think, Lenny, of everything and everyone in the world. Think of something you want to do. Hold on to
that,atleastuntilyougetoutofhere."

JeanhadnotseenLennysincetheyhadtransferredhimfromthehospitaltotherehabclinicinthevalley.
Hehadnotwantedtoseeher,whichkilledher.

But she heard from friends that he was looking a lot better, and that gave her some comfort. It was her
hopethatnowthathecouldgetaround,he'dcallher.

Shewaitedforthatcall.

"Hehaseverythingtolose,"Jeanwhispered.

Carolglancedover,concerned."You'renotgoingtowanttohearthis,butI'mgoingtosayitanyway.You
shouldstartdatingotherguys."

"Yousoundlikemymama."

"Youshouldlistentoyourmother.Youlovetheguy,sure,Ilovehim,too.Buthisbody'swrecked.His
life'swrecked.Youcan'tfixitpiningawayforhim."

"Hislifeisnotwrecked!Hecandoeverythinganyotherguycandoexceptwalk.That'sit.Whoneedsto
walknowadays?Wehavecars."

"Canhehavesex?"

"Idon'tknowifhecanhavesex.Manycrippledpeoplecan.Manycrippledpeoplecan't.Itjustdepends.
And who cares? Despite what all these stupid magazines say, sex isn't everything." Jean was suddenly
closetocrying."Ican'twalkawayfromhim.Heneedsme.AndIneedhim.You'remybestfriend.

Can'tyouunderstandthat?"

Carolspokecarefully."Buthedoesn'tevencallyou,Jean."

Jeannodded."Hewill.Whenhe'sfeelingbetter,he'llcall.Iknowit."

Carol stopped at a light and stared at her. "You're still so different from when we were growing up.

Beforeyourfall,youwouldhavebeenoutwithanotherguywhileLennywasstillinsurgery."

Jeanforcedasmile."Iwasn'tthatbad."

"Youwerenosaint."Carolsighed."I'msorryIsaidwhatIdid.IfyouwanttogoonlovingLenny,more
powertoyou.Lookatme,Ican'tevenmakeupmymindwhetherIwanttosleepwithguysorgirls."

"AreyoustillseeingScarface?"

"No.ButIgooutwithhissistereverynowandthen."ShenoddedatthemanilaenvelopeJeancarried.

"IsthatyourstoryforDebra?"

"Yes.ItwasthefirststoryIeverthoughtup.Itoldherthebeginning,butIonlyfiguredouthowitshould
endlastweek.Ihopeshelikesit."Jeanlaughedatherownfoolishness,andalsogotalittleteary."Iknow
she'snotthereinthatholeinthegroundwheretheyputherbody.ButIwanttoreadittoherathergrave
becauseIthinkmaybeshe'llknowI'mtheresomehow.Doesthatmakesense?"

"Itdoestome."Carolpaused."MaybeIshouldbecomeamortician."

"Justkeepdriving."

"CanIreadthestoryafteryou'vereadittoDebra?"

"Seguro."

"Areyougoingtotrytogetitpublished?"

"I hadn't really thought about that. But the main character is a successful author. I wonder if I
subconsciouslypatternedheraftermyself."Jeanadded,wipingathereyes,"Iseemyselfbeinglikeher
someday."

"Haveyoubeenworkingonotherstories?"

"Yes.Lateatnight.IwriteinaspiralnotebookwithaFlairpen."

Carolcastheranotherlook."Youneverdidthatbeforeyourfall."

Jeannoddedthoughtfully."Iknow."

She never got headaches before her fall, either. They had become less frequent, but had never left
completely.Sometimesshewonderedifshehadhurtherselfworsethanthedoctorsknew.Shetriednotto
thinkaboutit.

RoseHillswaslovely.Manyacresofwell-tendedlawnsweavinginandaroundtheWhittierHills.Jean
hadattendedDebra'sfuneralandstillkeptinloosecontactwithherfather.JeandirectedCaroltowarda
shadedmeadow.Carolofferedtostayinthecarwithoutbeingasked,andforthatJeanwasgrateful.

JeanhadbroughtDebraahandfulofflowersaswellasherstory.Jeanlaidthedaisiesbesidethesimple

metalmarkerthatwasallthatwaslefttosayDebrahadcomeandgone.YetJeanfeltherfriendcloseas
sheliftedupthehandfulofpagestoreadaloud.

"Debra,I'vereworkedthisthreetimesandIdon'tknowifIcanmakeitanybetter,"shesaid."It'seither
completely brilliant or totally stupid. But it's my first story and I'm proud of it. If I ever do get it
published,I'llbesuretodedicateittoyou.Pleaseforgivethecrudespotsaheadoftime.WhatcanIsay?

Ihaveadirtymind."Sheclearedherthroat."Thestory,asyoumightremember,isentitled,'WhereDo
YouGetYourIdeas?'Ifyougetboredflybacktoheaven.Iwon'tholditagainstyou.

*****

DebraZimmererwasworkingonherlatestnovelwhenthecreaturecameoutofherbedroomcloset.She
almostfelloffherchairwhenshesawthething.

Sherubbedhereyes,hopinghe'dgoaway,buthedidn't.Hewasugly,short,anddarkasadwarffroma
deepcave,scalyandsmellyasatrollfrombeneathanancientbridge.Clearly,hewasnothuman.Ashe
walkedtowardherdeskshecouldn'thelpbutnoticehisbigyellowteethandwidegreeneyes.Hedidn't
smellespeciallypleasant,either.Shehadnoideawhathe'dbeendoinginhercloset.

"Hi,Debbie,"hesaid."What'shappening?"

Debratookanimmediatedisliketohim.SheletnoonecallherDebbie.ShewaseitherDebraorMelissa
Monroe,thepennameshewroteunder,orelsesimplyMs.M&M.Shehadafewnamesbecauseshewas
oneofAmerica'sbest-sellingauthors,andshefeltitonlyfittingthatsomeoneaspopularassheshouldbe
abletoslipinandoutofseveralidentities.Justbeforethetrollhadcomeoutofhercloset,shehadbeen
typing hard on her new novel, The Color of Pain. She had a tight deadline, and as always was late.
Indeed,shehadbeenupmostofthepreviousnightworkingonthelastchaptersandwasexhausted.

She wondered if her fatigue had something to do with her seeing the troll. Her novel was in the horror
genre,butotherwiseithadnothingtodowiththecreaturestandingbesideherdesk.

"Whothehellareyou?"sheasked.

Hesmiled,andashedidsogray-coloredslobberleakedoutthesidesofhiswidetoothymouth.Hisnose
was thick, the nostrils pointing almost straight out, choked with white hairs. He wore a baggy pair of
blackshorts,snakeskinslippers,noshirt.Themusclesonhishairygreenchestwereknottedandhard.

Eventhoughhewasonlythreefeettall,helookedstrong,perhapsstrongerthanshewas,shedidn'tknow.

"Myname'sSam,"hesaid."I'myourmuse."

Debrareachedoverandturnedoffhercomputerscreen."Comeagain?"

"I'm your muse. You know, the one who gives you your ideas. You get asked that question all the time
wheredoyougetyourideas?Well,nowyouknow.

You'relookingathim."

Debra shook her head. "That's ridiculous. Muses are supposed to be beautiful angels. You look like
somethingthedogdugup."

Helosthissmile."Careful,Debbie.Idon'tlikecracksaboutmylooks.Andifyouthinkyouhaveanangel
foramuse,thenyoubetterthinkagain.Lookatthekindofstoriesyouwrite.They'refilledwithghouls
and vampires and psychos. Somebody's always getting murdered in them. What do you think—an angel
wouldgiveyouthosestories?Getaclue,sister.Youwanttowritehorror—yougetamuselikeme.It's
thatsimple."

Debrafrowned."Whatisyourname?"

"Sam.SamO'Connor."

"AreyouIrish?"Hehadatraceoftheaccent.

"Onmymother'sside.ButI'mnoleprechaun,ifthat'swhatyou'rethinking."

"Whatwereyoudoinginmycloset?"

"That'swhereIlive.Ihavetostaycloseoryouwouldn'tbeabletowritenothing."

"Youusedadoublenegative.Whatyoumeantosayis,Iwouldn'tbeabletowriteanything.That'spretty
basicgrammar.Youshouldknowthatifyou'rereallymymuse."

Sam waved his hand. "I don't care about all that crap. Grammar is for editors and pansies. I'm the one
who gives the blood and guts to your stories. If it wasn't for me, you would be writing about teen
problemsandteacher-studentconflicts.Youwouldn'tbesellinganythingandyou'dbelivinginadump."
Hereachedouttoturnhermonitorbackon."Yousureashellwouldn'tbewritingabookascleverasThe
ColorofPain.Letmeseethatlastchapter.IthinkIcantellyouhowitshouldend."

Sheslappedhishandaway."Don'tyoudarelookatmywork.Idon'tletanyoneseeittillit'sdone."

Samstaredathishandasifshehadstabbedaknifeinratherthanknockeditaside.Hisfacedarkened;his
teeth seemed to lengthen; the pupils of his eyes narrowed to hard green slits. He took a step back and
glaredupather.

"Let'sgetonethingstraightfromthestart,"hesaid.

"It'snotyourwork,it'sourwork.Andifyouwantourworktocontinue,you'regoingtohavetolearnto
playbyafewnewrules.Understand,Debbie?"

"Don'tcallmethat.Noonecallsmethat."

"Liar.Whenyouwereinschoolallyourfriendscalledyouthat.Butnowthatyouthinkyou'resuchabig
shot,yougobyDebraorthatotherstupidnameyouputonourbooks.Butyou'renobigshottome.You're
nothingwithoutme."

Debra gave a smug chuckle. "You keep saying that, but this house and everything in it belongs to me. I
boughtitwiththemoneyImadesellingthirtymillionbooks.Howmanybookshaveyousold?None,Ibet.

Youlooklikealosertome,SamO'Connor.Youlooklikea—somethingdespicable."

Samsmiledgrimly."Youwereabouttocallmeacolorfulsimile,butyoucouldn'tthinkofone,couldyou?
Youcan'tthinkofanythingcleverwithoutme.Goahead,try,Idareyou.Ilooklikeawhat?"

Debrathoughtforamoment,butnothingspecialcametoher."Youlooklikeoneuglybastard,"shesaid
finally.

He laughed. "That's it? That's the best you can come up with? How many books are you going to sell
describingyourvillainsas'oneuglybastard'?Andwhatareyougoingtosayaboutyourheroes?Oh,they
were so handsome? So pretty? You're going to be searching your thesaurus soon, Debbie, if you don't
cooperate.Andyou'llfinditcan'thelpyouwithyourplot."Again,hereachedforhermonitorbutton."Let
meseehowyou'rewreckingmystory."

Shedidn'tstophimasheturnedonthescreen,butsaid,"Howcanyousayit'syourstorywhenIthoughtit
up,inmyownhead?"

Samstudiedherlastpage."Allusmusesaresortoftelepathic.Thestorymayhaveendedinyourhead,
butonlybecauseIputitthereinthefirstplace."Hegruntedatthescreen."Youcan'tkillAlisahere.You
needherforthesequel."

"Whatsequel?There'snosequeltothisbook.Alisa'sgoingtodieandthat'stheendofit.Finished."

"YouseewhatImean?Youdon'tevenknowthatthisfirstbookisthebeginningofatrilogy.Thesecond
andthirdbooksaregoingtobebetterthanthefirst.Youcan'tkillthegirl.Ifyoudoyou'llbeoutamillion
dollarsinroyalties."

Debrafeltexasperated.Ofcourse,whenshethoughtaboutit,sherememberedshehadfeltthatwaybefore
Samappeared."HowcomeIdidn'tknowthat?"sheasked.

"BecauseIdidn'ttellyou,"Samsaid."IwaitedtotellyouuntilafterIcameoutofthecloset.Iknewit
wouldmakeyoumoreopentomyproposition."

"Whatpropositionisthat?"

Sam'ssmilereturned.Heglancedaroundherwellfurnishedspaciousbedroom,thenoutthewindowatthe
forestandtheocean."Yougotitprettygoodhere,girl.Youliveinamansion.Youdriveahotcar.You
haveamaidtocleanupyourmessesandasecretarytotakecareofyourbillsandcorrespondence.You
don'thavetodoanythingexceptwrite."

"Butwriting'shardwork.Ideservemysuccess."

Samsnorted."Writing'shardworkwhenyourmusegoesonvacation.Buthowharddoyoureallywork?
Youcansitdownandknockoutanovelinamonth.

That'sbecauseyougotmeworkingforyouinthecloset.Idoalltheheavythinking.You'rejustaglorified
typist.SometimesI'muptilltwoorthreeinthemorningtryingtofigureoutaplotline,andthenyougetto
wakeupfreshinthemorningandthereitisallreadyforyou.I'msickofthisarrangement.I'mtiredofthe
closet.Iwanttoenjoymoreofthefruitsofmycreativity.Fromnowon,Debbie,you'regoingtogivemea

pieceoftheaction."

Debrasatbackandcrossedherarmsoverherchest.

"Howbigapiece?"

"Forstarters,fiftypercentofeverythingyoumake."

Debralaughed."Gimmeabreak.Imakemillionsayear.YouthinkI'mjustgoingtohandoverhalfofthat
toyou?Yougetaclue,brother."

Samlosthissmile."Fine.Youwanttoplayhardball,let'sseehowhardyourheadis."Hepointedtothe
screen."Finishthisbookrightnow.Writethelastpage."

"Ican'twritewithaslimytrolllikeyoustandingbesideme."

Samputhisscalyhandonherknee.Hepinchedherleg,eversoslightly,andchewedonhistongueasif
wishingitwereoneofherfingers."Itoldyou,nocracksaboutmyappearance.Ifyouspentasmuchtime
as I have in a closet, you wouldn't look any better. But as a favor to you, and to prove my point, I am
willingtowaitintheotherroomwhileyouwritethelastpage.Youcomegetmewhenyou'redone.Or
more likely, you come get me when you realize you have nothing in your brain to write about." He
releasedhisgripandpattedherkneegently.Heevensmiledagain,althoughhiseyesremainedcold."You
takeaslongasyouwant,Debbie."

Debrawipedthespotwherehehadtouchedher.

"Thename'sDebra."

Samwalkedtowardthedoor,callingoverhisshoulder.

"The names will be Sam O'Connor and Melissa Monroe. From now on, that's what'll appear on your
books,inthatorder.That'sanotherofmyconditions."

Debrawantedtospitathim."Never."

Samlaughedasheleft."Neversaynever."

HewasgonetwosecondswhenDebraturnedbacktoherwordprocessorandbegantotypefuriously.His
challengewasapieceofcake,shethought.Whatwasonemorepageoutofthreehundred?Shejusthadto
haveherheroine—

well,allright,maybesheshouldn'tkillher.Alisawasagreatcharacterandtherewereatleastanother
two books in her. Debra could see that now. Sam was right. But she could finish with Alisa for now
withouthisadvice.Shejusthadtohavethegirl—what?Howcouldshesaveher?Shehaditallsetupto
killher.Maybeshecould—MaybeifshejustNo,thatwouldn'twork.Thatwouldbestupid,andifshe
hadastupidending,that'sallpeoplewouldremember.Threehundredpagesofbrilliantprose,andpeople
wouldthrowitagainstthewallandtelltheirfriendsnottobuyitifthelastpagewasflubbed.

Shealwayspridedherselfonherfantasticlastpages.OK,shethought,staycoolanddowhatyoudobest.

Youknowyou'rebetterthantherest,Ms.M&M,Ms.NewYorkTimesBest-SellingAuthor.Justwrite
thegoddamnpage!

TwohourslaterDebrawentouttoseeSam.Hewassittinginherfavoritechairwithhisuglyfeetupon
thecoffeetableeatingtheturkeysandwichshehadplannedtohaveforlunch.HehadtheTVturnedtothe
sci-fichannel,someoldblack-and-whitemonsterflick.Helaugheduproariouslyasthealienmonsterate
a cute, well-proportioned brunette who bore a vague resemblance to her. He barely looked up as she
entered.

"Allright,"shesaidbitterly."Howdoesthestupidbookend?"

Heglancedoverandtookanotherbigbiteoutofhersandwich."Itendsinacliffhanger,"hesaid."The
readerdoesn'tknowwhetherAlisamakesitornot."

"That'sit?That'snoending."

"You're wrong. It's the perfect ending. But how you do it is important. I'll fix it up after my show." He
paused and nodded to the nearby couch. "I want to go over a few more of my conditions. Just so we
understandeachother."

Feelingmiserable,shesatdown.Hewasrightabouttheending,sherealized.

HemusthavebeenhelpingherwithherbookssincethedaysofSlumberWeekend,thefirstbooksheever
sold.Beforethenshehadwrittenplotslikea—damn,shecouldn'tdescribetoherselfhowpoorlyshehad
plotted.Hell,andheknewit,too—hewassnickeringatheragain.

"Besideswantinghalfyourincomeandmynameoneverybook,"hebegan,"mypictureistoappearon
thebackflapbesideyours.We'llhireaprofessionalphotographerwhocantouchupmyroughedges,give
meayuppielook.Also,we'refiringyouragent.Hegetstenpercentandhedoesnothing.FromnowonI'll
negotiateallourcontracts.I'llgetusbiggeradvances,higherroyalties.AndIwanttotakeoveryourfan
mail.Therearealotofcutebabeswhowriteyou.Iwanttogettoknowthem,andletthemgettoknow
me.Iwantthemtoknowjustwhoturnsthemoninthemiddleofthenight.Andgivemeyourcarkeys.I
haveadatetonight."

"ButIjustboughtthatcar,"sheprotested."It'stheonlyoneIhave."

Samchuckled."ThenIguessyou'llbestayinghometonight.Maybeyoucanbrushuponyourgrammar.It's
allyou'regoodfor,Debbie."Hetookanotherbitefromhissandwichandletoutaloudbelch."Youmight
aswellfaceit—I'mthetalent."

Debrahadahorribletimefiringheragent.Hehadbeenwithherfromthestart.Hepleadedwithherto
reconsider, begged her to tell him whom she had found to take his place. Finally, when she told him
nothing, he threatened to sue her. She hung up. She had received a legal-looking letter from him a few
days earlier but was afraid to open it. Sam told her not to worry. He said he knew a great lawyer. He
seemedtoknowalotofpeopleforhavingspentsomuchtimeinhercloset.

ShehadinvitedaphotographerouttoshootSam,buttheguyhadfledthemomenthesawhermuse,which
put Sam in a bad mood. He continued to be sensitive about his appearance. She had ended up

photographing him herself and had an expert rework the negatives. The expert kept asking her what the
jokewas.Itdidn'tseemSamwouldeverlooklikeayuppie.

Samhadtakenoverherbedroom.Shenowlivedinoneofthesmallerroomsatthefrontofthehousewith
noview.Shehadpurchasedanothercar,butSamhadputaceilingonhowmuchshecouldspend.Shehad
endedupreplacinghernewMercedeswithausedFord.Samlaughedathereverytimeshewentoutto
startit.

Hehadnodates,however,eventhoughhesaidhedid.Hewentoutoftenbutreturnedfast,andusuallyina
lousymood.Hescouredherfanmailforeligibleyoungwomen.Sheheardhimflirtingwiththemonthe
phone,settinguplunchesanddinners.Shecouldjustimaginethewomen'sreactionswhentheyfinallymet
thegeniusbehindthebookstheyloved.Shehadsuggestedhejoinadatingclub,buthehadtoldhertoshut
up.

They had started immediately on a new book, a horror story for teens. Debra had written Young Adult
novelsforseveralyearsbeforebreakingintomainstreamfiction,andstillenjoyedtheform.She'dwanted
totakeabreakaftercompletingher—theiradultnovel,butSamhadinsistedshekeepwriting.

Yet his input from outside the closet was not as easy to take as it had been from inside. He paced
ceaselesslybehindherassheworked,mutteringswearwordsandpersonalinsultsasoftenashedidfresh
linesofdialogue.

"Allright,"hesaidwhentheygotstuckinthemiddleofaparticularlyviolentscene."Wecan'tpullany
puncheshere.We'vegottogoforvisceralimpact.

Write, 'Maria shot Tom directly in the belly. The blast went right through his guts and painted the wall
behind him a lumpy red. Tom stared at Maria and tried to speak. A portion of his lower intestines and
piecesofyesterday'slunchdrippedoutthesideofhismouth.Hisbreathstunklikeanouthouse.Cursing
Mariaandhermothertoeternaldamnation,heslumpedtothefloor.Astunnedsilencechokedtheroom."'
Sampausedandgruntedinsatisfaction."Writethat,Debbie,wordforword."

"Waitasecond,"Debrasaid."Areweforgettingsomethinghere?ThisisaYoungAdultbook.Wedon't
have lower intestines and yesterday's lunch dripping out the side of people's mouths. Our editor won't
standforit.Neitherwilltheteachersandlibrarians.Wehavetotoneitdown."

Samwassuddenlyenraged."Inevertonedownmywords!WhatIhavejusttoldyouisperfect.Youwrite
itthatwayoryoustopwritingaltogether."

ThatwasatypicalretortfromSam.Ifshedidn'tdowhathesaid,shecouldhanguphercareer.Whathe
didn'tseemtorealizewashowcloseshewastosaying,"Fine.TakethemoneyandtheMercedes.Ican
getanotherjob.Justgetoutofmyhouseandstopsleazingallovermyfans."Butshehadbooksleftonher
contract to finish, this Young Adult novel being one of them. She feared getting stuck with half a dozen
lawsuitsandnoincomecomingin.Plusshedoubtedtherewasanythingelseshecoulddo,exceptmaybe
beafull-timesecretaryforsomesexistmaleexecutive.

Shecautionedherselftospeakcarefullybeforeresponding.

"IhavewrittendozensofYoungAdultbooks,"shesaid."Ifwhatyousayistrue,Ihavewrittenthemwith

your help. Together we have pushed the limits of the genre. But there are certain limits it would be a
mistaketogobeyond.WecanshootTomintheguts,andwecaneventalkaboutthebloodthatgushesout.

But that's as graphic as we can get. There are even more rules when it comes to sex. None of our
characterscanhavesexonstage."

"Whatdoyoumeanonstage?"Samgrowled.

"Noneofourcharactersareintheschooldramaclub.Theycandoitintheircarsoratthepark.Which
reminds me. I have a great scene planned for the middle of the book. After Carol and Larry have been
turnedintoaliens,andbeenkilledbythepolice,we'llhavethemrisefromthedeadandmakeloveinthe
morguewithformaldehydedrippingallovereachotherfromtheirgorywounds.Thatwillgiveusanother
halfmillioninsales,Iguaranteeit."

Debra leaned over and turned off the computer. "If we write that scene we guarantee ourselves zero
sales."

"Noway!"

"Yes,way!Thepublisherwon'tacceptthebook."

"Thenwe'llgetanotherpublisher.NewYorkCityisriddledwiththem.Idon'tknowwhyyoustaywith
thathouseyou'reat.Mostofwhattheypublishiswrittenbyfailedactressesandpoliticianstryingtolose
weight."

"It'snotthatsimple.Thesameruleswillapplywhereverwego."

"Rules?" Sam said indignantly. "I'm an artist. I don't have to follow rules. Do you think J.R.R. Tolkien
wasworriedaboutruleswhenwewroteTheLordoftheRings?"

Debrapaused."AreyouinsinuatingthatyouwereTolkien'smuse?"

"DamnrightIwas.WheredoyouthinkhegottheEntsandtheOres?Imadethoseup,nothim."

"Well,IcanseeyouandtheOres,"Debramumbled.

Samtookastepcloser."Ididn'tquitecatchthat?"

Debraclearedherthroat."We'regoingtohavetoargueaboutthislater.Ihavetomeetmyyoungersister,
Ann,forlunch."

Samstoppedandsmiled."Yoursister,hey?I'veseenAnn'spictureintheotherroom.She'sababe.How
aboutmecomingtolunchwithyoutwo?Youcanintroducethetwoofus,tellherhowcreativeIam."He
grinnedandwinked."Inallkindsofways."

Debrastoodhastily."You'renotmeetingmysister."

Samsteppedinfrontofherasshemovedtowardthedoor."Whynot?Youdon'tthinkI'mgoodenoughfor
her?Howmanyotherguyscanshemeetthathavemyimagination?"

"None."Debrashookherhead."That'snotmypoint."

"Whatisyourpoint?Youthinkshewon'tfindmeattractive?"

"You'renotexactlyhertype."

"Whatishertype?"

"Well."

"Ah!YoustillthinkI'mugly!"

"Ididn'tsaythat.It'sjustthat,well,youarekindofshort."

"Icanwearmyplatformshoes.Iboughtsometheotherday."

"Thatwouldhelp.Butit'snotthemainproblem."

"What is the main problem? Is it my face? I can get these scales removed. I'm going to see a plastic
surgeononThursday.I'lltellAnnI'mrecoveringfromafire."

"No!Youwon'ttellAnnanything.You'renotgoingtomeether."

Sampausedandnoddedtohimself."Sothat'sthewayitis."Hedrewhimselfuponhishairytoesashe
didwhenhewasabouttomakeathreat."Ifyoudon'tintroducemetoAnn,Idon'ttellyouhowthisnew
book ends. I'll let you work on it until the last chapter, and then when your editor's screaming for the
manuscript,I'llleaveyouhanging."

Debra had had enough. She defiantly thrust her hands onto her hips. "Go ahead! Stop helping me! I've
madeenoughmoneytoliveonfortherestofmylifeevenifyoutakehalf.Gofindanotherwritertoplay
museto.Getanerdyteenageboywholooksupcheerleaders'skirts.I'msureyou'llgetalongfabulously."

Unfortunately, much to her surprise, Sam was not impressed by her retort to his threat. He let out a sly
chuckle."You'llliveonhalfofwhat,Debbie?Icopyrightedtheplotsofeachofyourbooksbeforeyou
evenwrotethem.Ihavecertifiedlettersmailedtomyselfcontainingdetailedoutlinesofeveryoneofyour
stories.Youwalkoutonmenow,andI'lldragyouintocourtandsueyourassoff.Thewholeworldwill
knowthatyou'renothingbutascam.You'llowememoremoneythanyouhave.You'llhavetosellthatold
Fordyou'redrivingjusttobuyfood."

Debrastaredathim."You'rebluffing.Youruinme,youruinyourself."

Samgrinned."Icanalwaysmakeanotheryou.Butwhereareyougoingtofindanotherme?"

Debrabrushedhimaside."I'mgoingtolunchwithmysister."

Samletherpass."That'sfine,"hecalledafterher.

"AslongasyoutellAnnI'llbecallingherfordinnersoon.Atherplace!"

Debra did not enjoy her afternoon meal, even though she ordered her favorite food at her favorite
restaurant.Shepickedatherswordfishandstaredoutthewindowattheocean.Hersisteraskedherwhat
wasbotheringher,butshejustshruggedandsaidshewasunderalotofpressurebecauseofadeadline.

Finally lunch was over and she was able to kiss her sister goodbye and think seriously about what she
wasupagainst.NotforamomentdidsheconsidertellingAnnaboutSam.Itmadehersickjusttothinkof
thatsmellycreaturetouchinghersister.Shethoughtseriouslybutnotcreatively,andthatwasthecoreof
herproblem.Herenemywasherinspiration.Shecouldn'tdestroyhimunlesshehelpedher,whichwas
notlikelyinthenextfiftyyears.

What to do? She had to go to someone else for her ideas. But who could she ask? Who would even
believeherstory?Thenitstruckher.Shewasastoryteller,still,atleastintheeyesoftheworld,evenif,
apparently,shecouldn'tthinkupanopeninglinewithouthertrollcacklinginthebackground.

But no one knew that yet, she reassured herself. Among other writers, she was seen as brilliant. Why
couldn'tshegotoanotherwriter,presentherdilemmaasaplotproblem,andhavehimsolveit?Sheknew
justtheman,ScottAlan.

Hewasalocalauthorofhorrorstories.Hehadyettohititbig,buthehadpublishedanumberofwell-
reviewednovels.Shehadconsideredhimsomethingofabeginner,butsecretlyshethoughthewasatleast
as,ifnotmoreso,creativethanherself.HewouldprobablybethrilledtohelpoutTheNewYorkTimes
Best-SellingMelissaMonroe.

ShedrovetoScottAlan'shouseafterfindinghisaddressinthebook.Hisfaceshoneexcitedlywhenhe
answeredthedoor.Heinvitedherin.Wow,itwasneatofhertostopby.Couldhegethersomethingto
drinkoreat?He'dlovedherlastbook.HowlonghaditstayedontheTimeslist?Fourmonths?Amazing,
hesaid.Shewasamazing.

"Thankyou,"Debrasaidasshetookaseatonhiscouch."Ilovedyourlastbookaswell."

Hegrinned.Hewasahandsomeyoungmaninhislatethirtieswithsandy-coloredhairandblueeyesand
aniceroundfacethat—damn!Shecouldn'tthinkwhathisfacewaslike.Butitwasattractiveenough,she
thought.Notthatshewantedtohavesexwithhiminamorgueoranythingkinkylikethat.

WheredidSamgetsuchdisgustingideas?

"Whatdidyoulikeaboutitthemost?"Scottasked.

Debrahesitated.Actually,shehadn'treadhislastbook."Ilikedhowthemaincharacterchangedasthe
novelprogressed."

"Whichmaincharacterwasthat?"

Shesmiled."Youknow,Scott,theonewhowasonthemostpages."

Scottwasdoubtful."YoumeanLucifer,therobot?Iguesshedidkindofchange."Scottchuckled."When
heblewup."

"That'swhatImean,yeah,exactly.Youblewhimupandhiswholeperspectivechanged."Debrapaused.

"Scott,I'mworkingonashortstoryforananthologyofmajorhorrorwritersandI'mstuck."Shebattedher
long brown lashes, knowing she could look pretty sexy to a struggling author. "I was wondering if you
couldhelpmegetunstuck?"

Hewasinterested."What'stheproblem?"

"It's kind of unusual," she began. "My main character's a famous author and she has this troll for a
muse...."

IttookDebraalmostanhourtotellherstory.Shehesitatedtoleaveoutanydetailforfearshemightskip
overtheweakpointinSam'sarmor.Scottlistenedintently,asifsheweretellinghimareal-lifedilemma,
whichjusthappenedtobethecase.Whenshewasdone,hesatthoughtfulforamoment.

"Thisstoryisn'tlikeanyofyourothers,"hesaidfinally.

"Tellmeaboutit,"shemuttered.

"I'mnotsayingit'snotclever.It'sjustthatit'snotasbasedinrealityasmostofyourwork."

"ThatmaybewhyI'mhavingtroubleresolvingthemainconflict.Butyouknowwhattheysay,ifyoudon't
takechancessometimes,you'llneverknowyou'llneverknow..."

"You'llneverknowwhat?"

Debrablushed.Shehadbeenabouttomakeupasaying,butofcourseshecouldn'tthinkofwhattosay.

"Nevermind.Canyouhelpme?Howcanmycharactergetridofhermuse?"

"Doesshestillwanttokeephimashermuse?Orjustputhimbackinthecloset?"

Debrashookherheadmiserably."AtthispointIthinkshe'dbehappyjusttohavehimoutofherlife."

"Howstrongisthistroll?"

"Prettystrong.Strongerthansheis.Whydoyouask?"

"Fortheobviousreason.Whycan'tshejustbuyagunandkillhim?"

"Believeme,she'sthoughtofit."

"And?"

"She'snotakiller—she'sawriter,remember?"Debraadded,"Butifsheweresureshecouldpullitoff,
andnotgethurt,shemightconsiderit."

"But the preferable ending would be to get the troll back in the closet and once more help your main
characterwriteherstories?"

"Yes."

"Youmentionedthatthetrollsaidhewastelepathic.Canhereadthewoman'smind?"

Debrahadconsideredthatpoint.Forthemostpart,exceptwhentheywereworkingtogether,Samseemed
unable to tune in to her thoughts. For example, the day before she had decided to cook them both
vegetarian lasagna for dinner. But he had exploded when she served him the food. He needed meat, he
yelled,didn'tsheknowbetter?

"He'ssensitivetothewoman'sthoughts,"shesaidcarefully."ButIdon'tknowifhecanreadthem,atleast
notallthetime."

"Butitwouldbebettertodistracthimjustbeforestrikingthedecisiveblow?"

"Yes.Definitely.Buthowisshesupposedtodistractatroll?"

Scottsmiled."I'msurprisedithasn'toccurredtoyou,Debra.Hisweakspotisobvious.He'sintelligent
but insecure in his relationships with women. He worries he's unattractive. What we need your main
charactertodoispretendtoseducehim,andthenjustwhenthey'reabouttogotobed,shecanaskhimto
getcontraceptivesfromthecloset.He'llbesoexcitedhe'lldoanythingshewants.Themomenthesteps
inside,shecanslamthedoorshutandlockhimin."

Debrawasappalled."Butshecan'tpretendtoseducehim.Justbeingaroundhimmakeshernauseated."

"Butshehastopretend.Shehasnochoice."

"Whatmakesyouthinkhe'sinterestedinher?"

"Issheattractive?"

Debrabrushedherhairwithherhand."Well,yes.She'sprettycute,Ithink."

"Thenhe'llbeinterested.Itsoundsliketheyhavealove-haterelationshipasitis."

Debrawasshocked."Shecan'tstandtobeinthesameroomwithhim.Howcanyousaysheloveshim?"

Scottwavedherobjectionaway."That'salsoobvious.Thewaytheycarryontogether.There'sgottobe
someattractionthere,onbothsides."

"Noway."

"Itdoesn'tmatter.Shejusthastogethimintheclosetandlockthedoor.Now,ifshewantstokeephimas
hermuse,shehastogivehimsomeincentivewhilehe'sthere.Perhapssheshouldhaveaphoneinstalled
in her closet. Then if he keeps helping her write, she can tell him, she'll keep slipping fresh fan letters
underhisdoorandpayforhisAT&Tbill."

Debrabrightened."That'sinteresting.Helovestalkingonthephone.It'spracticallyhisonlypleasurein
life,besideseating."Shenodded."You'reprettygood."

"Thankyou.You'renottoobadyourself."

"Yeah."Sheglanceddownthehalltowardhisbedroom,feelingasuddenchillfromthatdirection.

"Scott?"

"What?"

"Wheredoyougetyourideas?"

Helaughed."Youmustgetaskedthatquestionallthetime.YouknowtheansweraswellasIdo.Idon't
know.Theyjustcometome."Hepaused.

"What'sthematter?"

She tried to hear if there was any other sound in the house. A pair of ugly feet scampering about in a
closedspace,forexample.Buttherewasnooneaboutexceptthetwoofthem.

"Nothing,"shesaidsoftly."Iwasjustwondering."

AtfirstSamgreetedherideatogotoaplaywithherthateveningwithsuspicion.Butwhenhesawshe
wasserious,hedidanabout-faceandgotallexcited,andevensaidafewkindwordstoherabouther
writing.Ithadbeenpartofherplantosuggesthegooutandbuyhimselfanewoutfittowearonthedate
—sothatshecouldhavetimetopreparethecloset—buthebeathertothemarkbybringinguptheideaof
new clothes. He promised to be back by sunset and jumped in her Mercedes and was gone. She
immediatelygotonthephonetoahandyman,tellinghimitwasanemergency.Hesaidhe'dberightover.

Debrawantedtwomodificationsmadetothecloset.Besideshavingaseparatephonelineinstalled,she
instructedthemantoaddasturdydeadbolttothedoor.OnceshehadSaminside,shesworetoherself,
shewasnotlettinghimout.Thehandymanworkedquicklyandwasinandoutinlessthananhour.

Shemadeareservationfortheplayanddressedwithcarefortheirdate.Thetroublewas,shedidn'tknow
whatturneda trollon.She hadtothink backtowhat thenaughty girlsinher booksworeto getaguy's
attentionandrealizedthatprobablywithSam,lesswasmore.Sheputonaminiskirtfromherhighschool
daysandletherthickbrownhairhangdownherback.Samwastruetohiswordandwasbackbefore
sunset.Hetookonelookather,letoutanobscenewhistleandhurriedofftooneofthebathroomswithhis
collectionofNordstrombags.Shemanagedtokeephimawayfromthemasterbedroomwiththeexcuse
thatsheneededtouseitjustthisoncebecausethelightingwasbettertofinishhermakeup.Hewasinsuch
agoodmoodhedidn'targuewithher.

Shehadsaidaplayandnotaddeddinnerbecauseshedidn'twanttobeseenwithhimtoomuchsinceshe
didhavetoliveinthetown.ButSaminsistedtheygetabitetoeatbeforegoingtothetheater.Hetookher
toaFrenchrestaurantdowntown.Hehadonadarkgraysuitandawhiteshirtwithaverychicgreensilk
tie.Shedidn'tknowhowhe'dhadthemfittohissize.Heworeoversizesunglassestohideasmuchofhis
faceaspossible,andwassomewhatsuccessfulwiththemaneuver.Themaitred'actedasifshewaswith
adwarfwho'djusthadskingrafts.

"Toalongandsuccessfulpartnership,"Samtoastedwhenthewinearrived.Heraisedhisglassandadded
withawinkthatwasvisibleeventhroughhissunglasses,"Toadeeplysatisfyingrelationship.Cheers."

Shesmiledandraisedherglassandtriednottovomit."Cheers."

Hetookasipofhiswineandsethisglassdownandtouchedherrightkneeunderneaththetable."You
looklovelytonight,mydear.Whatisthatperfumeyou'rewearing?"

"Ecstasy."

Samwasinheaven."Myfavorite.Howdidyouknow?"

"It'ssensual.You'resensual."Sheblushed."Ijustthoughtthetwowouldgotogether."

Hecontinuedtostrokeherleg,buthestudiedheraswell."Whatbroughtaboutthesuddeninterest,Deb
—Debra?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess it was spending time with you and seeing how brilliant you are.
Nothingturnsmeonasmuchasintelligence."Shepaused,wantingtogetagriponjusthowmuchhecould
readhermind."Youshouldknowthataboutme."

Hegrinned."Oppositesattract."

Shenodded."Ain'tthatthetruth."

"Ain't?Isn'tthatpoorgrammar?"

Sheclaspedhishandunderthetableandgaveitawarmsqueeze."Tonight,foronce,let'sforgetgrammar.
Let'suseallthenaughtywordswewant."

Samlickedhischops."Jesus,"hesaid.

Their meals came. Debra had halibut, Sam steak, a thick cut as rare as the health department allowed.
Briefly she wondered how he had survived in her closet for so many years without food but assumed
eatingwasapleasurewithhimandnotanecessity.Shewouldn'tbefeedinghimonceshehadhimlocked
away.

Theplayturnedouttobeanightmare.Theysatinthebackinthedark,andSamcouldn'tkeephishands
offher.Herpushinghimawayseemedtogethimmorearoused.Shetookinsolittleofthestorylinethat
shecouldn'thavesaidwhatitwasabout.Hernerveswerefrayed.Whatifheescaped?Whatmannerof
revenge would he take? She thought of all the tortures the villains in her books had inflicted on her
characters.AllinspiredbySam.Shecouldnotfail,itwasassimpleasthat

Hestartedtokissherthemomenttheyreturnedhome.Ortriedto—hewastooshorttodomorethanstick
hisfaceinherbosomandslobberonherblouse.

Hehadbrushedhisteethandgargledbuthisbreathstillstank.Hedraggedhertowardthebedroom.With
bilerisinginherthroat,shewentwithhim.Hewantedhertoundressinfrontofhimwiththelightson.

"Do it slowly," he said, his big yellow teeth chattering with excitement. "Not like they do it in teenage
books.Likeyou'reonstage."

She forced a smile. "Shouldn't we lower the lights? It's so much more romantic." She didn't want him

gettingtoogoodalookattheclosetwhenshesteeredhiminthatdirection.Heshookhishead.

"Iwanttoseeyou,Debra.Seewhatyou'vegot.I'vewaitedalongtimeforthis,youknow."

Shekickedoffhershoesandbegantounbuttonherblouse."Haveyounow?

Butyoumustknow,Sam,thatyoucan'ttellwhatagirl'sgotuntilyou'vegotyourhandsonher.Andthen
it'ssomuchbetterwithoutallthisartificialillumination."Sighingwithpleasure,sheremovedhertopand
letitdroptothefloor.Sam'sbiggreeneyesbuggedoutofhishead.Shecrooned,"Somethingaboutthe
darkreallyturnsmeon.

"I'll get the lights," Sam panted. He tried turning off the lamp but his hands were shaking so badly he
endeduphavingtoyanktheplugoutofthewalltokillthelight.Theroomwasplungedintodarkness.She
couldstillseehim,though,hisphosphorescenteyesmovingtowardher."Loveme,baby,"hewhispered
ashisstubbyarmswentaroundherwaist.Hetriedtopressherdownontothebed.Shestrokedthetopof
hisheadandleanedoverandspokeinhisear.

"You've got me so hot, Sam. I want to do it with you again and again. But I can't get pregnant. You
understand.Ababywouldspoileverythingwe'vegotgoinghere.You'vegottowearsomething."

Sam'svoicecameoutdisappointed."ButIdidn'tbuyanything."

Shegiggledmischievously."Don'tworry.I'vegotsomethinginthecloset,onthebottomshelf.Yougoget
itandI'llhelpyouputiton."

Heletgoofherandslappedheronherbuttwithpleasure."That'smygirl!

Alwaysthinkingofthedetails.I'llgetitandjustprayitfits.Letmetellyou,Debra,youhaven'thadaman
untilyou'vehadyourmuse."

"Hurry,"shewhisperedathim.Hereyeshadadjustedtothedarksomewhat,andshecouldseehisshort
squatoutlineashewalkedtotheclosetandpokedhisheadinside.Shetookasteptowardhisback,but
justthenhisglowinggreeneyesturnedherway.Shefroze.

"Idon'tseethem,"hesaid."MaybeIshouldturnthelightbackon."

"They're in the corner," she said quickly. "Keep looking. Please don't turn on the light. It will spoil the
mood."

"Notforme."Hesnickered,turningbacktothecloset."I'malwaysinthemood."

"SoamI,"Debramuttered.

Suddenlyshewassickofthecharade,ofhavingtoconstantlykisshisass.Shehadplannedtowaituntil
shehadtalkedhimallthewayintotheclosetbeforeshestruck,butnowshecouldn'twaitasecondlonger.
Intwolongstridesshemovedupbehindhim.Heheardherapproach;oncemorehisgreeneyesturnedin
herdirectionassheraisedherbarerightfootandplanteditfirmlyonhismidback.Butevenatthatlatea
moment,hedidn'trealizehisperil.

"Oh,"hemoanedwithdelight."Thatfeelsgood.Doitharder."

"Mypleasure."Shegavehimonehardshoveandhetoppledforwardintothecloset.Hemighthavehithis
head on the far wall, she wasn't sure. She heard a loud bump followed by a soft thud. In a flash she
grabbed hold of the door and slammed it shut, twisting the bolt counterclockwise as the handyman had
instructedher.Hardlyhadshesetthelockinplacethanhebegantobangonthedoor.

"Debra!"heshouted."Letmeout!"

Shelaughed."Youdidn'tsayplease,Sam.Ifyouhadsaidplease,Imighthaveconsideredit.Butnowit's
toolate."

Hethrewhiswholebodyagainstthedoor,butitwassturdyanddidn'tbudgeaninch."Ifyoudon'tletme
outrightnow,it'llbetheendofMelissaMonroe.

There'll be no more warped teenagers. No more alien vampires. You'll be writing self-help and diet
booksfortherestofyourlife.You'llhavetodotalkshowstosellcopies."

Debracouldn'tstoplaughing."Yousaythatnow,Sam,butyou'regoingtogetprettyboredintherewith
nothingtodo.Especiallyafteryourtasteoffreedom.

Iknowyou—youloveyourhorror.Soonenoughyou'llbegivingmestoriesagain."

"Never!"

"Neversaynever."

Hecontinuedtopoundonthedoor."Letmeout,youbitch!"

"WhatdidyoucallmeSam?TheBword?Golly,Idon'tknowifthat'sallowed.

I'llhavetocheckwithmyeditorandgetbacktoyou.Wemighthavetocrossthatout."

"Debra!"

"That's my name. Be sure you don't forget it. Oh, by the way, I had a phone installed in the closet this
afternoon.Ifyoubehaveyourselfandcontinuetohelpmeonmystories,Imightslipyoualetterfroma
hotfantocalleverynowandthen."

Hestoppedpounding."CanIcalllongdistance?"heasked.

"OnlyifourlatestbookmakesTheNewYorkTimeslist."

Samconsidered."Can'tIcomeoutonweekends?"

"Noway.I'llnevergetyoubackinthecloset."

Hesoundedkindofsad."Wasalloftonightjustashamtolockmeup?"

"I'mafraidso,Sam.You'rejustnotmytype."

Hewascurious."Wheredidyougettheideatodothis?"

Debragrinnedinthedark."I'llletyoufigurethatoneout."

AweeklaterDebrastoppedbyScott'shousetothankhimforhelpwithherstory.Shewassurprisedwhen
a short mole of a woman with a wide hat and thick sunglasses answered the door. Because the woman
stoodintheshadows,anditwasbrightandsunnyoutside,Debracouldn'tgetagoodlookather.Butshe
couldhaveswornthewomanhadpurplehair.

"CanIhelpyou?"thewomanaskedinadeepsobervoice.Shesoundedlikeacannibalmightafteralate-
night dinner—the simile just popped into Debra's mind. Her thick red coat covered most of her squat
figure.Sheworeblacksatinglovesandkeptherrighthandontheedgeofthedoor.

"Yes,"Debrasaid."I'mheretoseeScott.Isheathome?"

"Scottdoesn'tlivehereanymore."Thewomanstartedtoshutthedoor."Haveaniceday."

Debrashotoutherarm."Waitasecond.Whatdoyoumeanhedoesn'tlivehere?Ivisitedhimherelast
week.Whoareyou?"

Thewomanstaredupatherwithherdarkglasses.Therewassomethingwrongwithherskin.Itlooked
burnt,peeling,whileatthesametimeitwasashen.

Debracouldn'thelpnoticinghowlargeherhandswere,biggerthanSam'sforthatmatter.

"Arelative,"thewomansaid.

"WherehasScottmovedto?Doyouhaveaforwardingaddress?"

"No."

"Doyouknowwhyheleftsosuddenly?"

"No."

Debrafrowned."IfyouseehimwouldyoutellhimMelissaMonroestoppedby."

"Thewriter?"

"Yes,that'sme."

Thewomanseemedtogrin.Yettheexpressionwashardtoclassifyasasimplesmilebecausetherewas
gloatinginit.Asifthewomanwerestillhungryafterherlatesnackandwanteddessert.Hertonetookon
afalsenoteofsweetness.

"I love writers," she said. "Would you like to come in, dear? Maybe for some tea? We could discuss
books."

Debra swallowed and took a step back, feeling a strong sense of deja vu. "No thank you. I have an
appointmentinhalfanhour.Ireallymustrun.Butplease,remembertogiveScottmymessage."

Thewomannodded."Itwillbemypleasure."

"Thankyou,"Debrasaid.Assheturnedtowardhercar,justbeforethewomanclosedthefrontdoor,she
thoughtsheheardsomeonepoundingonawallsomewheredeepinthehouse.Shepausedtolistencloser,
butjustthenthewomanshutthedoorandsheheardnothingmore,noteventhewomanmovinginside.

"Musthavebeenmyimagination,"shemutteredtoherself.

Yet as Debra Zimmerer, New York Times Best Selling Author, started her car and pulled out of the
driveway,shewonderedifshewantedtostay,inthewritingbusiness,evenifSamcontinuedtohelpher.
Shehadthefeelingthatbeingahorrorauthorwasalotmoredangerousthanitwascrackeduptobe.

*****

Jeanlaughedoutloudasshefinishedreadingherlastline."IlikehowScottgotputinthecloset,too.It
appeals to my ghoulish nature. But you know, Debra, it also makes me nervous about where I get my
ideas."Jeanpausedtowipeawayanothertear.Hervoicebecamesofter."Butyoumightknowthat—

wherever you are. If our ideas really do come from angels, then put in a good word for me with them.
Havethemsendmedownastoryforabestseller.Ican'tmakesandwichesatSubwaytherestofmylife."
Shepausedandtouchedthemarker.Thisdatetothatdate,shethought.Eighteenyearsinbetween.Itdidn't
seemrightthatanall-lovingGodcouldgiveapersonsolittletime.ShehadonlyknownDebratendays,
but she still missed her. Biting her lip, she traced Debra's name with her fingertips. "I will remember
you,"shewhispered.

Iwantpeopletorememberme.

Jeanjerkedbackfromthemarker.Whohadsaidthat?Thevoiceseemedtocomeoutoftheair.Ofcourse,
shethought,thatwasridiculous.Thevoicehadbeeninhermind.Justherownthoughts.Yetthelinefeltas
ifithadbeenspokenbyanother.

Thememoryofthatbloodystainonthecondoconcretecamebacktoher.

"Ithoughtyouknewher."

"Knewwho?"

"Thegirlwhodiedhere."

Jean thought of James Cooper. After she had helped him move, he had taken her straight home and
droppedheroff.Hehadaskedforhernumber,however,buthehadnotcalledher.Shehadbeencareful
nottomentionLennyaroundhim—notoutofanurgetocheatonherboyfriend—moreoutofaninnocent
desiretogettoknowJamesbetter.Orwasherdesiresoinnocent?

Shedidnotlustaftertheguy.Nevertheless,shedesperatelywantedsomethingfromhim,somethingshe
couldn't explain even to herself. Why hadn't he called her? Because you spooked him as much as he

spookedyou.Yetshehadneveraskedhimabouthisdeadsister.SomethingCooper.

"Isupposeweallwanttoberemembered,"JeansaidinashakyvoicetoDebraZimmerer'sgravemarker.

Gathering her story together, leaving the flowers behind, she stood and walked slowly back to the car.
Carolsnoredbehindthewheel.Jeanwokeherandsaid,

"Takemehome."

Yes,shethought,shewantedtogohome.Butfirstshehadtofindit.

JeanfoundJamesCooper'sphonenumberwithoutdifficulty.Informationhadit.Butcallinghimprovedto
be more difficult. Alone in her bedroom, she dialed the number a half dozen times but quickly hung up
beforeanyonecouldanswer.Shekeptaskingherselfthesamequestions.WhyhadthespotwhereSister
Cooperdieddrawnherso?Whydidthegirl'sincompletenamereverberateinherheadliketheechoofa
lostcryoffahighcliff?WhatwasMs.

Coopertoher?Whatcouldshebeexceptaghost?

Finally Jean let the number ring. He answered. She recognized his voice—she would never forget that
voice.

"Hello?"

"Jim?ThisisJeanRodrigues.Rememberme?Thegirlwhocouldn'tfindtheocean?"

Hehesitated."Yes.Howhaveyoubeen?"

"Great.Howareyou?"

"Good. I finally have the place in order. You should see it. You wouldn't recognize it from the day I
movedin."

"CanIseeittoday?"sheblurtedout.

Hepaused."Issomethingwrong?"

"No.It'sjust,youknow,Iwanttoseeyouagain.Ihadfunwithyouthatday.Iwasdisappointedwhenyou
didn't call." She lowered her voice, knowing she had no right to ask the question but wanting to do so
anyway."Whydidn'tyoucall?"

Hetookforevertoanswer."Themovewaskindofroughforme,inalotofwaysI'drathernotgointo.I
didn'tthinkI'dbeverygoodcompanyforanyone."Hepaused."Butifyouwanttogettogetherthatwould
begreat."

"WouldtonightbeOK?"

Helaughed—itsoundedforced."Sure.WhattimeshouldIpickyouup?"

"I'llcometoyourplace."

"Areyousure?Idon'tminddrivingover.Irememberwhereyoulive."

"I'msure.IthinkIcangetmymother'scar.Ireallydowanttoseeyourplace.

Andthatwholesectionoftownissomuchnicerthanhere."Sheadded,"Ifeelmoreathomethere."

CHAPTERX

JEAN WAS IN JIM'S PLACE five seconds—they had hardly said hello—when she noticed Shari
Cooper's picture. A four-by-five color photograph in a gold-leaf frame, it stood on his desk beside his
computer.JeanhadnotseenitwhilehelpingJimmove.Withoutaskingpermission,shecrossedthesingle
largeroomofhisstudioapartmentandpickeditup.Thegirlwasattractivewithlayeredblondhairand
longishbangs.Herfaceshone;herexpressionwasintelligent.Aneighteen-year-oldgirlwithplansforthe
future.Herbiggreeneyes,inparticular,haddepth.Yet,toJean,thedetailsofShariCooper'sappearance
wereunimportant.Itwasthepersonbehindthefacethatinterestedher.

Holdingthephotograph,Jean'shandbegantoshake,andsherealizedthattheenchantedpoolthatgranted
themysteriousvisionswasnotonlyfoundinthedeepwoods.Sometimesaseniorpictureinanunsigned
yearbookpointedthewaytoprofoundmysteries.

Sheknewthisgirl.'Likesheknewthereflectioninherownmirror.

"Whoisthis?"sheaskedsoftly.

Jimcameupatherback."Mysister,Shari."

Shari.ShariCooper.

Jeannodded,swallowed."Shehassuchlovelygreeneyes."

"Butthey'rebrown,don'tyouthink?"

"No.They'regreen,definitelygreen.What'sthematter?Areyoucolor-blind?"

"Yes."

Sheturnedandlookedathim."Ididn'tknowthat."

Heshrugged."Youhardlyknowmeatall."Gentlyhetookthepicturefromherandsetitbackdownonthe
desk.Thesightofitseemedtogrievehim,butshedidnotwonderwhyhekeptitsoclose.Itseemedhe
couldn'tturnawayfromitnow.Shewatchedhimforalongmomentashestaredathisdeadsister.

"Whathappenedtoher?"sheaskedfinally.

Heshookhimselfasiffromatrance.Thefeelingintheroomwasclosetodejavu,yetdifferent.Itwasas
ifthesorrowsofyesterdayandthehopesoftomorrowhadslippedfromtheirrespectivetimeframesand
crossedpathsinthisplaceasshehadcrossedhispath,seeminglybyaccident,withoutreason,andalso
becauseitwasmeanttobe.SherealizedthenthatshelovedJamesCoopermorethanshehadeverloved
anyone in her life. Not as an attractive young man with whom she wanted to have a relationship. But
becausehehadbeenShariCooper'sbrother.Heshookhishead.

"It'salongstory.I'drathernottalkaboutit."

Jeanreachedoutandtouchedhisarm."Iknowshewasmurdered."

Hiseyeswidened."How?"

"Iwenttothespotwhereshedied."

Hefrowned."DidyouknowShari?"

"No.Inevermether."

"Thenwhydidyougothere?"

"Idon'tknow.Iwentforawalkandfoundmyselfatthespotwhereshehittheground.Anelderlywoman
happenedbyandexplainedthatshehadbeenpushedfromthethird-floorbalcony."

"Thenyouknowwhathappened.Youdon'tneedtoaskme."

"No.Idon'tknowwhathappened.Whywasshemurdered?"

Jimturnedaway."Idon'tknowwhyyouwantmetotalkaboutthesethings."

Hesatdownonthesofaandputhishandstohisheadasifithurt.Hechuckledunexpectedly.

"Whatisit?"sheasked,crossingtositbesidehim.

"Iwasjustthinkingofwhatyousaid.Howhereyesweregreen,definitelygreen.IwouldtellSharithey
wereonlybrown,andshewouldalwayssaywhatyousaidbacktome."Helookedatthefloor."Fora
secondyouremindedmeofher."

Jeantouchedhisknee.Shecouldn'tstopherselffromtouchinghim.Deepinherchest,shecravedforhim
towraphisarmsaroundherandtellherthateverythingwasallright,finally,thatthepastwasdeadand
buriedandthattheywerebothaliveinalivinguniverse.Butsheknewsuchagestureonherpartwould
disturb him. Yet she couldn't let it be, not without understanding what it was. The mystery of Shari
Cooper'smurder?No,shethought,itwentmuchdeeperthanthat.

"Youremindmeofsomeoneaswell,"shesaid.

Helookedup."Who?"

"Idon'tknow."Sheshookherhead."Iamnottryingtobepurposelyconfusing.

Iamgenuinelyconfused."

"Aboutwhat?"

"You.Andyoursister.Andwhythestainofherbloodontheground—pleaseforgiveme—drewmelike
somekindofmagnet."Shepointedtowardthepicture."Whydoesshehaveherbangsinhereyes?"

"Sharilikedthemthatway."

"Iknewthat.Iknewthatbeforeyousaidit."

"Butyoujustaskedmewhysheworethemthatway?"

"Iwasbeingfacetious.OrelseIwasmimickingyourmother.Ibetyourmotherdidn'tlikethewayShari
woreherbangs."

"Shedidn't.Shealwayswantedhertocutthem."Jimstoppedanddrewback.

"Whyarewehavingthisdiscussion?YousaidyounevermetShari.Whyshouldyoucareabouthowshe
woreherhair?Orforthatmatter,whatelseshedidinherlife?"

Jean fought to calm herself. "I'm sorry, Jim. I realize that by talking about these things I'm probably
tormentingyou.Iassureyouthatisnotmypurpose.

I'm not some weirdo who just happened to show up at your doorstep." She added sheepishly, "Even
thoughIdidjustshowupatyourdoorstep."

Heeyedhercautiously."Whydidyoucometomyparents'house?Didtheelderlywomanyouspoketo
directyouthere?"

"Not specifically. But she told me your last name. She had spoken to your father after Shari's death. I
foundtheaddressinthephonebook."

"Soyouhappenedbyonpurpose?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Itoldyou,Idon'tknowwhy.There'ssomethingaboutyouandyoursisterthatdrawsme.ThismorningI
wenttothegraveofafriend.HernamewasDebraZimmerer.Idovolunteerworkinahospitalandshe
was a patient there. We didn't spend a long time together, but we were close, you know. Sometimes it
doesn'ttakelongtogettoknowsomeone.Anyway,IwenttohergravetoreadherastoryIwrote,and
whileIwastherethethought'Iwantpeopletorememberme'poppedintomymind.AndthenIthoughtof
youandyoursisterandIfeltIhadtocallyou—andlikeIsaid,Ireallydon'tknowwhyIamtellingyou
allthis."Shepausedtocatchherbreath."I'llleavenowifyouwantmeto."

Hewashardlylistening.Hewasstaringatthepictureofhissisteragain.No,notatitbutjusttotheright
ofit,athiscomputer.Agreatchangehadcomeoverhim.Hisfacehadbecomepale—hewasghostlike.

"Jimmy?"shesaid.

"Sheusedtocallmethat,"hewhispered.

"ShariusedtocallyouJimmy?"

"Yes."

"I'dassumemanypeopledo."

"It'sthewayyousayit.Justlikeher."Heconsidered.

"Besidesbeingcolor-blind,Ihaveahabitofwalkinginmysleep."Heregardedherwithsomethingakin
toawe."Didyouknowthat?"

"No.Butthatcouldbedangerous."

He nodded. "Shari always worried about me hurting myself while I was out for a nocturnal stroll." He
continuedtostudyJean.Somethingshehadsaidinherramblingstouchedanerveinhim.Shesuspected
sheknewwhatitwas."Yousaidyouwritestories?"

"Yes.Afew.Why?Doyouwrite?"

"No.Imean,Ididwriteonestory."Helookedbackathiscomputer."WhileIwassleepwalking."

"Really?Youwereunconscious?"

"Yes."

"Wow.Whatwasthestoryabout?"

Hedrewinabreath."Mysister."

"That'snicethatyou'dwriteastoryabouther."

Heshookhishead."No.Itoldyou,IwasasleepwhenIwroteit.Anditwasn'texactlyastoryabouther.It
—itdescribedwhatitwaslikeforherwhenshedied."

Jeansatstunned."Areyouserious?"Stupidquestion.

Jimwasneartears.Henoddedweakly."Iwokeuponemorningafewdaysaftershediedandfounditin
mycomputer.ApparentlyIhadbeenupthewholenighttypingitin."Hisshouldersslumped."That'sthe
onlyexplanationIhaveforitsbeingthere."

Jeanfeltcoldthen.LikeaportionofthedarkdirtofMotherEarth,aportionfarbeneaththesurfacethat
remainedhiddenastheyearsofmanwentby.Aportionthatwasneversupposedtobeuncovereduntilthe
endoftime.Thecoldwasbothterrifyingandthrilling.

"SomethingIsaidremindedyouofthatstory?"shesaid.

"Yes."

"Shesaidinthestorythatshewantedtoberemembered?"

"Yes.Thosewereherlastwords."

"Butyouwrotethestory?"

Jim,Jimmy,weptthen.Heheldhisheadinhishandsasthetearstrickledsilentlyoverhischeeks."Idon't

know,Jean.I'mlikeyou,Ijustdon'tknowanythinganymore."

Jeanreachedoverandhuggedhim,andasshedidsoawonderfulglowradiatedoutwardfromherchest.
Thesimpleactofbeingabletocomforthimmeantsomuchtoher.Asifshehadwantedtoholdhiminthe
pastbuthadbeenunabletodoso.Sheranherfingersthroughhishairandpressedherfaceagainsthis.

"Ihavetoreadthatstory,"shewhispered."Pleaseletmereadit.IfIdon'tI'llneverknowwhoIam."

Hesniffed,embarrassed,hisfacedamp."Butyou'reJeanRodrigues."

Shedrewback,butcontinuedtoholdontohim.

"Yes.ButIdon'tknowwhosheis.IfeellikeI'vehadtwolives.AtthebeginningofthesummerIalsofell
offabalcony.AndsincethenI'vebeenwalkingaroundinadream.Ihavetowakeup,Jimmy."Shestared
downathishands,thenletgoofhimandlookedatherown.

"IhavetounderstandhowIcannowtypestoriesIcouldn'timaginebefore.Icouldn'tevenwriteaone-
pagepaperallthetimeIwasinschool."

"Whendidyoufalloffthebalcony?"

"Idon'tknowtheexactdate.ItwasaFridaynight,twoweeksbeforeIwastograduatefromhighschool."

"Sharidiedtwoweeksbeforeshewassupposedtograduate."

Jeanlookedoveratthecomputer.ItwaitedonhisdesktoplikeamodernAladdin'slamp.Sheonlyhadto
rubthekeyboardalittleandthemegabytesgeniewouldappearandofferheranywish,exceptthewish
formorewishes.

ButwhatcouldShariCooper,sittinglikeanangelonherbrother'sshoulderashelaboredunconsciously
inthedark,haveaskedforinherstoryexceptforanotherchancetobealive?

Iwantpeopletorememberme.Sometimesmemoriesjustweren'tenough.

"Letmeseeit,"shepleaded.

Jimmy went over to the desk and sat down and booted the computer. A menu appeared on the monitor
listing files. He moved his mouse around and the computer beeped. Then he stood and offered her his
chair."It'salongstory,"

hesaid."It'lltakeyouseveralhourstoread.Icanleaveyoualoneuntilyoufinishit."

Shestood."Youdon'thavetoleave."

Heraisedahand."Iwantto.Ihaveneverletanyonereaditbefore.Ithinkitwillbehardforme,you
know,tositherewhileyougothroughit."Hewipedathisfaceandforcedagrimsmile."Imightstart
cryingagain.Guysaren'tsupposedtocry."

Jeansteppedtowardhimandgavehimahug."I'mscared,Jimmy."

"Whatareyouscaredof?"heasked,holdingher.

"Whathappenedtoher.Whoshewas.Isherstoryscary?"

Heletgoofher."Muchofitis,yes.Butmuchofitisbeautifulaswell.You'llsee.Ithinkitendshappily."

Jeanglancedpasthimatthecomputer."I'mglad."

Jimmynoddedandlefther.Thisstrangegirlhehardlyknewfromthewrongsideoftown,allaloneinhis
apartmentwiththemostprivateaspectofhislife.

Jeanwonderedathistrust,butthenrealizedhefeltthesamewayaboutherthatshefeltabouthim.Alove
soolditmusthavebeenalivebeforetheywereborn.

Jeansatdowninfrontofthescreen.Shemovedthecursor.Wordsappeared.

Darkanddisturbingandbeautifulwords.

*****

Mostpeoplewouldprobablycallmeaghost.Iam,afterall,dead.ButIdon'tthinkofmyselfthatway.It
wasn'tsolongagothatIwasalive,yousee.Iwasonlyeighteen.Ihadmywholelifeinfrontofme.NowI
supposeyoucouldsayIhaveallofeternitybeforeme.I'mnotsureexactlywhatthatmeansyet.I'mtold
everything'sgoingtobefine.ButIhavetowonderwhatIwouldhavedonewithmylife,whoImighthave
been.That'swhatsaddensmemostaboutdying—thatI'llneverknow...

*****

Jeanreadonlyasmallportionofthebook.Shedidn'thavetoreadmuch.

Beforethepartybegan,thebirthdaypartythatwouldstretchoveranightmareperiodofeventsandend
dayslaterinadrearyfuneral,andfinallydaysafterthatculminateinanothermurderattempt,sheknewall
thecharacters.Alltheirnames,theirlikesanddislikes,alltheirpassionsandhatreds.Alltheirsecretsas
well,anditwasthoseespeciallythatmadeitclearhowitwouldendforShariCooper,andwhyitwas
thatshediddiesoyoung.Jean,infact,kneweverythingaboutthestory.Because...

"Iwroteit,"shewhisperedaloud.

Sheremembered.

Iremembered.

I,ShariAnnCooper.

CHAPTERXI

IFOUNDTHERISHIsittingcross-leggedinmeditationbythestreamwhereIhadlefthim.Peterwasnot
withme;ItoldhimIhadtohaveaprivatetalkwiththeRishi,whichhurtPeter'sfeelingsalittle.Peter
had become worried on the flight back from the center of the galaxy. I wondered if he could sense my
insightintowhataproblemhissuicidewasgoingtobe.

QuietlyIsatdownonmykneesinfrontoftheRishi.Hewasstillwearinghisbluesilkrobeandlookedas
wiseandwonderfulasever.Afteraminuteortwoheopenedhiseyes.

"Morequestions,Shari?"heaskedsoftly.

"Yes.Isthisagoodtime?Idon'twanttodisturbyou."

"Noproblem.Whattroublesyou?"

"Severalthings.IwaswonderingwhenIwouldreturntoaphysicalbody?"

"Inafewminutes."

"Whysosoon?"

"Because you are ready to return now. And I don't want you to postpone it. The more time you spend
enjoyingthefreedomyouhaveonthisside,theharderitwillbeforyoutogoback.Besides,doyouknow
howmuchtimehaspassedontheEarthyouknewsinceyoudied?"

"No."

"A year. I see your surprise. Time is not a constant throughout the creation. It is as much a product of
consciousnessasspace.Heretimeisdifferent.Atthecenterofthegalaxyitisevenmoredifferent."

"ButIthoughtIwouldhavemoretimetogoofoffoverhere.Imean,there'sstillsomuchIneedtolearn
beforeIgoback."

"No.Youknowallyouneedtoknow.Also,Iwillcontinuetowatchoveryouwhileyou'reonEarth.Iwill
guideyou,havenofear."Hepausedandbrieflyclosedhiseyes."Besides,JeanRodriguesisreadytotake
her fall. I see her now. She stands on a balcony overlooking the city much as you stood on a balcony
beforeyouleftyourbody.HermindturnstoGod.Shepraysforhelp."

TheRishiopenedhiseyesandtherewasmuchloveonhisface."Wehavetohelpher."

"Butthereareafewthingsthatstillconfuseme.Whenwefirsttalked,IassumedPeterwasalsotalkingto
someonelikeyou,agreatteacher."

"Yes.Hetalkedtome.ButhesawmeinaslightlydifferentwayandhecalledmeMaster."

"Atthesametimewetalked?"

TheRishismiled."Timeistimetome.Itisallthesame."

"Whatdidyoutellhim?"

"ManyofthesamethingsItoldyou.Iansweredhisquestions.ButwedidnottalkaboutWanderers."He
pausedagainandstudiedherinthatgentlepenetratingwayhehad."Iseewhatisinyourheart,Shari.You
wanthimtoreturnwithyou."

Inodded."Yes.Isitpossible?"

"Abetterquestionwouldbe,isitadvisable?"

"Youdon'tthinkitis?"

"Trustyourintuition,Shari.Whatdoyouthink?Orbetteryet,whatdoyoufeelinyourheartwouldbebest
forhim?"

Ishruggedhelplessly."Idon'tknow.ButIsensetheissueofhissuicideisaproblem,afterall.Moreofa
problemthanIrealizedbeforewewentintothelight.Isthattrue?"

The Rishi nodded, and for once his expression was grave. "Human life is the greatest of God's gifts.
BecauseitisonlyinahumannervoussystemthatamanorwomancanrealizeGod.Eventheangelsinthe
highestheavenhavetobebornhumantoattainperfection,tobecomeaMaster.Topurposelythrowaway
such a gift is an unfortunate mistake. Don't misunderstand me—Peter is not damned because he killed
himself,despitewhatcertainreligionsmightsay.

Hewilllearnfromhismistakeandgoforwardlikeeveryoneelse.Itissimplythathissuicideslowshim
down.He doesn't haveall the opportunitiesopen to him atpresent that youdo. Naturally, though, these
willbehisinthefuture.

God forgives all mistakes even before they are committed. It is important that we are able to forgive
ourselves."

"Butdidn'tPeterdothatbeforehesteppedintothelight?"

"Yes.Thatiswhyhewasabletofollowyou.Youhelpedhiminthatway,ashehelpedyouinotherways.
Buttheconsequenceofhissuicidewillstillbetherewhenhereturnstoaphysicalbody.Thereisaterm
forthis—karma.Hissuicidecreateddifficultkarmaforhim."

"Howwillthatkarmatakeshape?"

"Itcantakeavarietyofshapesandforms."

"Butyoudon'twanttotellme?"

"ManyofthesethingsareuptoPeter.AsfarasIknow,hehasn'tsaidanythingaboutwantingtoreturnto
thephysicalrightaway."

"Becausehedoesn'tknowIhavetogoback.YousaidIamtoreturninafewminutesandIfeelalotof

pressure.CanthethreeofustalkaboutitbeforeIreturn?"

"Thereisnopressure,Shari.Ifyoudon'twishtogonow,youmaygolater.Itissimplythatthetimefor
thechangeisauspiciousforyouaswellasJean.Butanotherauspicioustimewillarise.Italwaysdoes.
But certainly the three of us can sit and talk together before anything is decided. I can bring Peter here
now."

"Inamoment.Iwantedtosaythatifyoufeelthetimeisripe,thenthat'sgoodenoughforme.I'llgoand
quitwhining.Ireallyamgratefulthatyousetthisallupforme.ButIwantedtoaskyou—howlongwillI
beonEarth?YousaidI'dwritestoriesthatmillionswillread.DoesthatmeanIwilllivetoaripeold
age?"

"No. It may be that you return for only a short time. I spoke of this period of transition that is fast
approaching on the physical plane. Just as many Wanderers are incarnating on Earth to help with the
transition,manywithnegativevibrationsarealsoreturningtostopit.Theywillnotsucceed,buttheycan
upset the plans of many men and women of good will. In particular, they dislike Wanderers and attack
themwhentheyhavethechance."

Ishiveredattheidea."CantheyspotaWanderer?"

"Many of them can. Many of them are highly evolved, but in a negative way. I know that sounds like a
contradiction, but it is not. One can evolve either positively or negatively. The interesting thing is
whicheverwayyouchooseyouendupmergingintothedivine.Thedivineisallthereis.Butthenegative
path takes much longer and is no fun. There is no love on that path. Those of negative vibration crave
poweranddominance.Thatistheirtrademark.Youcanspotthemthatway.Theytrytoplacethemselves
above others. They feel they are especially chosen by God for a great purpose. But God chooses
everybodyandallhispurposesaregreat."Hepaused.

"Oneofthenegativebeingsmightkillyou.It'spossible."

"Butcan'tyouprotectme?"

"Protectyoufromwhat?Death?Thereisnodeath.Ihavenothingtoprotectyoufrom."

Inodded."Iftheydogetme,thenI'llbebackherewithyou.Thatwon'tbesobad.ButIwouldliketohelp
humanityasmuchasIcanwhileI'monEarth.

WhatelsecanIdobesideswritemystories?"

"Meditate.IwillguideyoutoagenuineMaster.Doservice.Serviceperformedwithouttheexpectationof
rewardbringsaglowandrichnesstolife.Studypeoplewhoarealwayshelpingothers.Theyarehappy.
Youwillhaveahappylifeevenifitdoesn'tlastforever.Thatismypromisetoyou."

Ibowedmyheadingratitude."Thankyou."Isatbackup."AndnowIsupposethehourgrowslate.Please
havePetercome."

CHAPTERXII

MYIDENTITYCRISISwasover,eventhoughIdidn'tknowI'dhadonetobeginwith.JeanRodrigues's
memorieswerestillthereasclearlyaswasherbody,andsowasI.Thefusionofherlifewithmysoul
broughtmenoconfusion.

AlthoughIcouldnotclearlyrecalleverythingtheRishihadtoldme,Irememberedhimwellandtrusted
thathewouldnothaveputmeinabodywhereIdidn'tbelong.BeforeIdidanything,evenasIstoodup
fromJimmy'sdesk,Ithankedhimagain,aswellassaidaprayerfortheoriginalJeanRodrigues.ButI
knewshewaswellbecauseshewaswithhim.MyMaster.

I turned off the computer. I could read the rest of it later. Stepping onto the balcony that adjoined the
apartment, I saw my brother sitting three stories below beside the pool and staring at the water. I
rememberedhowIhadsatbesidehiminthecarafterIdied,whilehedrovefromthemorguetothecondo
whereIhadbeenkilled.Howhehadpulledofftothesideoftheroadandwept.

HowIhadwantedtotakehiminmyarmsandtellhimeverythingwasallright.

AndnowGodhadgivenmethatchance,Ithought,andhereIwascrying.Thepoolwaspracticallyright
beneathme.Mytearsmusthavebeenlandingonhishead.Helookedupinmydirection.

"Haveyouchangedyourmindaboutreadingit?"hecalleduptome.

Ishookmyhead.

"Hasitupsetyou?"

Ishookmyhead.

"Doyouwantmetocomebackup?"

Inodded.

I was sitting at his desk when he came back in, studying the picture of my past incarnation. Honestly, I
couldn'tdecidewhetherIlookedbetterthenornow.

Onethingforsure—Jeanhadbiggerbreasts.IwasgladIhadn'tgoneoutwithJimmyandlethimtouch
themoranything.Iwouldhavejustdied.

NowwhatwasIsupposedtodo?Ittookmetwosecondstomakeadecision.IhadtoconvincehimwhoI
was. If I didn't, I knew I would spend the rest of my life regretting that I hadn't at least tried. Also, I
believedthetimewasripeforrevelations.IbelievedtheRishihadmovedJimmytoletmereadthestory.

That was why Jimmy had gotten emotional around me, something I knew he seldom did. I believed the
Rishi'sgracewasallaround.Icouldn'tgetoverhowIhadbeendeadandwasnowalive.Iwassohappy.

"What'swrong?"heaskedquickly."Youlooklikeyou'vebeencrying."

Isetmypicturedown."Yes.Butthat'sallright.Pleasehaveaseat.Ihavesomethingtotellyou.You'renot
going to like what I say at first. You're going to get angry and order me to leave. But if you'll let me
continue,thensomethingwonderfulwillhappen.Somethingbeyondwords."

Hestudiedmequizzically."Whatareyoutalkingabout?"

"Ihaven'treadallofShari'sbook.Idon'tneedto.Iknowitfrombeginningtoend.ButIdon'twanttotalk
aboutparticularincidentsinthebook.YoucouldalwayssayIhappenedtoglanceataparticularpartand
knowwhathappened.

OrelseyoucouldsayIsomehowgotaholdofacopyandreaditbeforehandinordertoconfuseyou."

Hesatdownonthecouch."Youareconfusingme.Whatareyoutalkingabout?"

"Jimmy, what do you think of me? I don't mean am I pretty or interesting or boring or crazy. I mean, is
theresomethingaboutmethatyoufindfamiliar?"

Hehesitated."Yes."

"Whatisit?"

"Idon'tknow."

"DoIremindyouofanyone?"

Heloweredhishead."No."

I understood that he was saying yes. But that it was not possible for him to say yes to his suspicion
becausewhathesuspectedwasnotpossible.Besides,theentiresubjectofShariCooperwassopainful
forhim.IrealizedI'dhavetopunchaholethroughthatpainifIwastostandanychanceofconvincinghim
thatIhadcomebackfromthegrave.Itookadeepbreath.Thiswasnotgoingtobeeasy.

"I'mgoingtolistafeweventsthathappenedbetweenyouandyoursister.Onlyyoutwoknewaboutthem,
nooneelse.Noneofthemisdiscussedinherstory.

WhatIwantyoutodoisjustlistenasItalk.Don'ttrytoformanyconclusions.

Canyoudothat?"

"Yes.Butyoualreadysaidthatyounevermetmysister.Howcanyouknowanythingaboutusthatisn'tin
thebook?Haveyoutalkedtoherfriends?ToJo?"

"No. Even Jo wouldn't know the things I'm about to say. Please, just let me talk for a few minutes." I
paused for effect. "On Sharps first day of high school she locked the number of the combination of her
lockerinsideherlocker.Shewassoembarrassedshedidn'ttellanyonewhathappened.Butshecameto
youatlunchtimeandaskedifshecouldborrowsomemoneytobuysomethingtoeatbecauseherlunch
was in the locker, too. She made you swear you wouldn't tell anyone what had happened and you kept
yourpromise."

"No.Itoldmymotherwhathadhappened."

I jumped in my seat. "You told Mom? Why the hell did you do that?" I stopped myself. Nothing was
sacred,Ithought."Nevermind.Letmetakeanotherexample.OnthenightofyourfirstdatewithAmanda,
justbeforeyouwenttopickherup,youenteredShari'sbedroomandaskedyoursisterhowfaryoushould
trytogowithAmanda.Likeshouldyoukissherorjustholdherhand—

those kinds of questions. And Shari told you with a perfectly straight face that you should try to have
intercoursewithherbeforetakinghertodinner.Doyouremember?"

Jimmysatup."Yes.Howdoyouknowthat?"

Iraisedmyhand."Bepatient.WhenyouwerefifteenandShariwasthirteen,yourparentstookyoufora
triptothedesert.Thetwoofyouwokeupearlyanddecidedtohiketoanearbyrockformation.Butwhat
neitherofyouknewwasthatdistancesaredeceptiveinthedesertandthattherockformationturnedoutto
befiveorsixmilesaway.Bythetimeyougottoityouwerebothexhaustedandthirsty.Then,onthehike
back, while climbing through a dried ravine, you heard a rattlesnake in the nearby shrubs. Both of you
panicked.

Youjumpedoutoftheravineandleftyourpoorsisteralonewiththesnake.

Shepeedherpants.Therattlesnakelookedatherandjustcrawledaway.

Afterwardyoubothrealizedyouhadbehavedlikecowards,andyoumadeasecretpactnottotalkabout
whathadhappened."Ipaused."Younevertoldanyoneaboutthatincident,didyou?"

"No."Hewasgettingannoyed."Howdoyouknowaboutit?"

"Letmetellyouonemoreincident,andthenIwilltrytoexplainmyself.ThishappenedafterSharidied,
but it is not recorded in her story. It did not happen between you and Shari but between you and Mrs.
Parish. Listen closely here, it might sound a little confusing. After it became known that Amanda had
killedShariandthatshewasinfactyourrealsister,andnotShari,youwentovertovisitMrs.Parish,
Amanda's mother, who was in reality Shari's mother. While you were there you both talked about how
greatSharihadbeen.Towardtheendoftheconversationyoumadeatouchingcomment.Yousaid,"Ithink
the things I loved most about Shari were all the things that made her different from me. In a way I'm
gratefulshewasn'tmybloodsisterbecausethenshewouldn'thavebeensodifferent.Shewouldn'thave
beenwhoshewas,whichwasthegreatestsisterintheworld."AfterthatyouaskedMrs.Parishnotto
repeattheremarkbecauseyoufeareditwouldgetbacktoyourparentsandtheymightbehurtbyit."

TherewasastrangelightinJimmy'seyes.Itwaskindofscary,actually.Butsoisthefinelinebetween
fearandhope,painandjoy.ItwasasifIwerebeingguideddirectlybytheRishirightthen.IknewIhad
to take Jimmy to a place where he was about to explode before I hit him from just the right angle. I
believedIwasclosingonthatplacefast.

"Howdoyouknowthat?"heaskedsoftly,hisvoicethickwithfeeling.

"BecauseIwastherewiththetwoofyouwhenyouspokeaboutShari."

"That's impossible," he said flatly. "We were alone in her house. Amanda was under arrest at the time.

Howdidyouknowaboutwhathappenedinthedesert?"

"BecauseIwasthere."

"Idon'tunderstand."

"Ineachoftheseincidents,Iwasthere."

He spoke with exaggerated patience. "No, Jean. You weren't there. I would have known if you were
there."

"ThenhowdoIknowthesethings?Youexplainittome."

"Idon'tknow.Youmustbelying.YoumustbeafriendofJo's.SharimusthavetoldJothesethingsandJo
toldyou."

"Thephoneisrightthere.Whydon'tyoucallJoandaskherifsheknowsaJeanRodrigues?"

Hisfearincreased,asdidhisanger."HowdoIevenknowyournameisJeanRodrigues?Whyareyou
talkingaboutthesethings?Whatareyoudoinghere?"

"Doyouwantmetoleave?"

"Yes."Hestood."AsamatteroffactIdo,"

"Notthirtyminutesagoyouleftmealonetoreadyourmostprivatecomputerentry.Nowyou'rekicking
meout.Sitdown,Jimmy,ItoldyouwhatIhadtosaywouldmakeyouangry."

Hesatbackdown."I'mgoingtogiveyouanotherthreeminutes."

"Good.Thatshouldbeenough.IfyouweretocallJo,youwoulddiscoversheknowsnoonewhofitsmy
description. If you were to call Mrs. Parish, you would learn she has never repeated your remark to
anyone.Mrs.Parishisanextremelysensitiveperson.Shewouldsaynothingthatmighthurtyourparents."

"Soyouknowheratleast?You'readmittingthat?"

Ihadtotakeanotherbreath."Iknowherinamannerofspeaking.IknowallofShari'sfriends.Icantell
youaboutthematlength.Buttheydonotknowme.Thereisn'toneofthemwhowouldrecognizeme."I
paused."Strange,isn'tit?"

"Yes.Ifit'strue,butIdoubtitis."

"Whydoyoudoubtit?ThinkaboutwhatI'vejusttoldyou.ThinkaboutthethingsonlyyouandSharicould
haveknown."

"That'snottrue.Sharididn'tknowwhatIsaidtoMrs.Parish.Shewasdeadatthetime."

"No.That'swhatI'mtryingtotellyou.Shewasn'tdead.Shewasthereinthathousewiththetwoofyou!"

Hestoodagainandpointedatthedoor."Iwantyoutoleave.Idon'tknowwhoyouareorwhatyouwant.
Ijustwantyouout.Now."

Istoodandwalkedtowardthedoor.ButIstoppedinfrontofhim,Ihadtostop.Hewasmybrother,after
all, my big brother. My Jimmy. I stopped and rested my open palm on his chest and looked up into his
eyes. He didn't brush me off. He appeared to be transfixed by my touch, my eyes—there was a hint of
greeninthemsomewhere,Ithought.Notthatitmatteredsincehewascolor-blind.Hehadnotbeenableto
seethecolorevenbeforeIdied.HowcouldIhopethathewouldnow?Still,IstaredathimandIfeltso
muchloveforhimthatmyownvisionbegantoblurandhelostdefinitioninmysight.ThenIcouldn'teven
tellwhathelookedlike.

It was then, however, that his face appeared to soften, and not just because of my tears, but perhaps
because the old saying about the eyes being the windows of the soul was true. It was then he finally
reacheduptopullbackthecurtainsalittle.Hereachedupandsqueezedmyhandinthatmoment.

"Whoareyou?"heasked.

"Itismestandinghere.Justme."

"Itwasmelyingthere,"hewhispered,quotingfrommystory."Justme."Hebrushedatearoffmycheek.

Heshookhisheadsadly."Itcan'tbeyou."

"Ihaven'tforgottenyou.Howcanyouhaveforgottenme?"

Hegotchokedup."Itcan'tbeyou."

Ishookhishand."Lookatme!I'mhereinfrontofyou!Whatdoesitmatterthatmybodyhaschanged?It's
stillme."

Hewantedtowalkaway,butIwouldn'tlethim.Iheldontohishandasifitwerealifelinetosafety.His
headfellforwardasifdraggeddownbyweights.

Hiseyesblinkedatthefloor.Hisangerwasallgonenow.Therewasjustpainandarayofhope.

"Butyou'redead,"hesaidpitifully.

"WasIdeadwhenIsatbesideyouthatnightandwrotemystory?Jimmy,whatwasthatstorywrittenfor?
Toleteveryoneknowthatdeathdoesnotexist!Howcanyouhaveforgottenthemainpointofthestupid
book?"

Heshookuneasily,almosttalkingtohimself."ButIdidn'twriteit.Iwasasleep.

Ididn'tknowwhatIwasdoing.Ijustwokeupinthemorninganditwasthere."

"Iwroteit!"

"Itcan'tbe.Itcan'tbeyou."

"Itisme!Lookatme,Jimmy!Justlookandyou'llsee.I'vecomeback.Icamebackforyou."

Helookedup.Ihadthewindowatmyback.Perhapsthelightfromitreflectedonhisface.Perhapsan
angelbrushedawingoverhisforehead.Idon'tknow.

All I know is the scale finally tilted between the unequal balance of his longing and his grief. Just one
moregrainofsandhadtobeplacedonourside,Isaw.

Buthehadtodoit,notI.Hehadtosayit.

Master!Ifyoureallyaretherenow,pleasehelpus.

"Shari?"Jimmysaid.

"Yes."Ismiled."Yourememberme."

CHAPTERXIII

TWO HOURS LATER we were both still talking our heads off and busting our guts laughing. And the
funny thing was, it was as if I had never died. It was as if we were continuing a conversation we had
startedoverayearago.Butthereversewasalsotruebecauseitwasthebesttalkweeverhad.Sweeter
thananyIcouldremember.NeitherofuswouldhavecomeupforairifJimmyhadn'tsuddenlybegunto
looktired.Icommentedonthefactandheshrugged.

"I'vebeenworkingalotofovertimelately,"hesaid.

"Forthetelephonecompany?Stillchoppingdownthosetelephonepoles?"

Heshookhishead."Istherenothingyoudon'tknowaboutme?"

"I'msorry,butthisChicanababerememberseverythingaboutherbigbrother."

Ireachedoverandfelthishead."Ialsorememberyouhavediabetes.Ithinkyouneedyourinsulin."

Henodded."You'reprobablyright.Youknowthatwasalwaysonethingthatamazedmeaboutyou.You
knewwhenIneededashotbeforeIdid."

"That'sbecauseI'mnotcolor-blind,andIcanseewhenyoustarttoturngreen."

"DoIlookthatbad?"

"No.I'mexaggerating.Areyoustilltakingtenunitsintheafternoon?"

He stood and shook his head and stepped toward the bathroom. "I had to increase my dosage after you
died.Thedoctorsaidstresshasthateffectondiabetics.

I'veneverbeenabletobringitbackdown."Heglancedbackatme.Hewasobviouslytiredbuthadn't
losthissmile."Itjuststruckmehowodditsoundstotalktosomeoneaboutherowndeath."

"IgotusedtoitontheothersidewithPeter."

"That'sright,goodoldPeterNichols."Jimmysteppedintothebathroomandopenedhismedicinecabinet.
"Hedidn'thappentowanderbackintoabody,didhe?"

Ihesitated,feelingalumpinmythroat."No.He'sstill—gone."

Jimmynoticedmytone."Butyouknowhe'sfinewhereheis?"

Inodded."Butyoucanknowonethingwithyourheadandfeelsomethingquitedifferentwithyourheart.I
misshim."

Jimmypulledoutashortstripofpaperheusedtotestthebloodsugarlevelofhisurine.Heclosedthe
dooronlypartway.Thesimpleactmeantalottome.

Hefeltcomfortableenoughwithmethathedidn'thavetoclosethedoorcompletely.

"You'llmeetplentyofguyswiththosetits,"hesaidcasually.

Ihadtochuckle,althoughthetopicmademealittlesad."TotellyouthetruthIalreadyhaveaboyfriend.I
inheritedhimfromJean.Hisname'sLennyMandez."

"Howdoyoufeelabouthim?"

Thequestioncaughtmeoffguard.Sodidmyownanswer;itjustpoppedoutofmymouth."Ilovehim,"I
said.

"Interesting,"Jimmyremarkedfromtheothersideofthedoor.

"It is." I had to ask myself why I loved Lenny. He wasn't exactly Shari Cooper's type, not by about ten
light-years. There was no question in my mind I had a distinct identity separate from the one Jean had
formedoverhereighteenyearsonEarth.YetIhadhermemories;theywereasmuchapartofmeasthey
hadbeenofher.WhenIsatquietly,itwaseasytounderstandhowsomeonelikeMalcolmXhadnotbeen
abletopiercethroughthememorybarrier.IfnotformeetingJimmyandreadingmyownbook,Idoubted
ifIwouldhavebeenabletodoit.Irealizedsomuchofouridentitywastiedtoourbodies,andwrongly,
becauseweweremuchmorethanthat.Still,theallureofthefleshwasstrong.

IcouldclosemyeyesandfeelexactlyhowJeanhadfeltonherfirstdayofhighschool—shehadbeen
stoned,naturally—andwhatithadbeenliketomakelovetoLennyforthefirsttime.Thelatterexperience
had been more satisfying than my one roll in the hay with Daniel. Lenny, at least, knew what it took to
pleaseagirl.Orheusedtoknow,Iremindedmyself.Ihadtoseehimsoon.Imissedhim.

"Damn,"IheardJimmymutter.

"Didyoupeeonyourhand?"Iasked.

Igiggled."I'mgladyou'retestingyoursugarlevelandnotestimatinglikeAmandaadvisedthatnight."

Hepoppedhisheadoutofthebathroomdoor.

"Youweretherethatnight?"

"OfcourseIwasthere.Youreadthatinthebook.Isavedyourlife,brother."

Heshookhisheadagain."Ihavenodoubtyou'reShari,butit'sstilltakingmetimetoabsorbitall."He
paused."Whatdidyouseethatnight?"

"AreyouaskingifIsawthetwoofyouscrewing?"

"IneverdiditwithAmanda."

"Gimmeabreak.WhenIgottoourhousethatnightthetwoofyouwerewearingbathrobesandnothing
else."

"Wedidn'tdoanything."

"Yeah,right,sure.Whyareyouembarrassedtoadmitit?Isitbecausesheturnedouttobeyoursister?"

"Rereadyourownbook,Shari.Youwillseewedefinitelydidnothavesex.

Besides,whataboutyouandDaniel?"

"IneverdiditwithDaniel."

"Sureyoudid.It'sinyourbook."

Iwasdumbfounded."Iputthatinmybook?God,you'reright.YouknowIonlywrotethatbecauseIwas
deadatthetime.We'vegottotakethatout."

"We'vegottotakeoutthepartaboutAmandaandme.Eventhoughwedidn'tdoanything."

"No.Wecan'tdothat."

"Whynot?"

"It'samajorplotpoint.Daniel—hewasjustaminorcharacter.Thestorydoesn'trevolvearoundwhether
Ihadsexwithhimornot."

Jimmywasworried."You'renotthinkingoftryingtogetthatstorypublished?"

"Ihavetogetitpublished.It'spartofmymissiononearth.Toenlightenhumanityaboutprofoundspiritual
matters."

"Butyoucan'tpublishthatstory."

"Don'tworry,Jimmy.WecantonedownthingsbetweenyouandAmanda."

"No.Thatstorycan'tgooutinthatform.MomandDadwillhearaboutit."

"Isthatsobad?Iwantthemtoreadit.Iwanttogoseethemnext."

Jimmycamebackintotheroomandsatonthecouchbesideme."Youcan'ttellMomandDadwhoyou
are. They'll never believe you, no matter how many personal incidents you recount. You'll just end up
hurtingthem."

"Butmybeingdeadhurtsthem."

"That'strue.Butit'sbeenayear,Shari.They'regettingoverit.Iknowthatmustbehardtohear,butit's
true. If you show up at their doorstep and say you're their daughter and a Wanderer—they'll freak. You
knowthem.They'llneveracceptit."

"Butyouacceptedit."

"Because we were very close. I can see beyond your body. Also, I have always been open to

metaphysicalideas.MomandDadaren't.Theonlyesotericthingtheydoisreadtheirhoroscopesinthe
papereverynowandthen."

Isighed,knowinghewasright.Itwasapainfulrealization.OneofthefirstthingsIthoughtofwhenmy
memoryhadreturnedwastogoseemyparentsandeasetheirgrief.Ihadimaginedallkindsofbeautiful
scenarios.NowIhadtoforgetthem.

"Butcan'tIatleastgooverandseethem?"Iasked.

"Asafriendofyours?"

"Yes.Butyou'llhavetobecarefulwhatyousay."

"Younevershowedthemmystory?"

"No."

Inoddedreluctantly."Maybethatwaswise.ButIdowanttotrytogetitpublished.Icanalwayschange
thenamesandplaces."

"That'sagoodidea.We'lldothat."

Ihuggedhim."You'resowiseandyetI'mtheonewho'ssupposedtowritethestories.Isitpossiblewe
couldworktogether?"

"OnlyifIgethalftheroyalties."

"Noway!You'reasbadasSam."

"Who'sSam?"

"He'smymuse.He'satrollandlivesinmyclosetinSouthCentral."

Jimmy'seyeswidened."Areyouserious?"

Isockedhim."Youidiot!YoustillbelieveeverythingItellyou.JustbecauseIcamebackfromthedead
doesn'tmeantherearetrolls.Anyway,haveyougivenyourselfyourinsulin?Iwanttogoout."

"Yes.Wheredoyouwanttogo?"

"IwanttoseeJoandMrs.Parish,myrealmom.IwanttoseeDetectiveGarrett,theguywhoinvestigated
mymurder,aswell.Boy,doIowehim.Ihopehehasn'tstarteddrinkingagain.I'mtellingJowhoIam.
She'llbelieveme.ShewaspracticallybornonthebacksideofaOuijaboard."

Jimmynodded."WecanseeJo.Shelivesontheothersideoftown.She'sgoingtoU.C.L.A."

"IwasgoingtogotoU.C.L.A."

"Youcanstillgo."

"Mygradesaren'tgoodenough.JeanRodriguesspenttoomuchtimeinhighschoolsmokingdope.AndI
doubtU.C.L.A.willacceptatranscriptofShariCooper'sgradesonanentranceapplication.Besides,I
don'thavethemoneytogothere.Iliveintheghetto."

"Wecanchangethat.Tomorrow,youcanmoveinherewithme."

IstoppedtothinkoftheRishi'swords.Mymemoryofmytimewithhimwasfragmented.Iwonderedifit
wasbecausewehadspokeninaplaceoutsideofnormaltime.Iknewhehadtoldmetowriteandserve
andmeditate.ButtherewereotherthingsIsensedIhadlostuponreturningtothephysical.Hehadgiven
mesomekindofwarning

"No," I said. "I have to stay with my new family. It's important that I work in that area of town to help
improvethings.Anyway,Inevercaredthatmuchformaterialthings."Ipausedagain."ButIwouldlike
myFerrariback."

"Whodoesn'tcareaboutmaterialthings?"

"Well,itwasmine.Whereisit?"

"Dadsoldit."

"Mycar?Whodidhesellitto?"

"Youroldboyfriend."

"Danielisdrivingmycar?"

Jimmylaughed."Itgetsworse.He'sstillgoingoutwithBethPalmones."

I waved my hand. "I don't care about that. He tried to make it with her an hour after my funeral. They
deserveeachother.Butitpissesmeoffthathehasmycar.Couldyoubuyitbackfromhim?"

"Thatcarcostahundredgrand.Idon'thavethatkindofmoney.Besides,youcan'tdriveaFerrariandlive
intheghetto.Itwouldn'tlastanightthere."

"Theghettoisnotasbadasrichwhitekidslikeyouthink.Ithasalotofcolor.

Takemybestfriend,Carol,forexample.She'sfulloflife.Ihavetointroduceyoutoher.Maybeyoutwo
wouldhititoff."Ipaused.

"Maybenot."

"Whydoyousayitlikethat?"

"Becauseshe'salesbian."Igiggled."Butforaguywho'ssleptwithhisownsister,alesbianmightbea
stepintherightdirection."

Jimmywasbeetred."Wouldyoudropthat?Youknowthat'snottrue.Besides,Ididn'tknowshewasmy
sister.Ithoughtyouweremysister."

Iquietedinahurry."Youdostillthinkofmeasyoursister,don'tyou?Istillthinkofyouasmybrother.
ThefactthatAmandaandIwereswitchedatbirthdoesn'tmeanthatmuchtoyou,doesit?"

"Don'tworry.Youwillalwaysbemysister."

Iwasrelieved."Good."

"ButthereissomethingIthinkyoushouldworryabout.ShouldyouseeMrs.

Parishsosoonafterrecoveringyourmemory?"

"I'mnotgoingtotrytoconvinceherwhoIam."

"I realize that. But she's a sensitive woman. She might sense something unusual about you and it might
upsether.Youmightgetupsetaroundher."

Ishookmyhead."Youforget,Ihavewalkedthroughthevalleyoftheshadowofdeath.Iammuchstronger
thanwhenyoulastsaidgoodbyetome.Idon'tmindgettingupset.AndMrs.Parishiswise.Ifshedoes
noticesomethingaboutme,she'llbeabletoassimilateitinherownway.Shedoesn'thavetounderstand
thatI'mShari,butshecanknowthatIamsomeoneclose."

"Youwanttoseehernow?"

"Yes.Pleasetakemeover.Itmeansalottome."

Heconsidered,thennodded."Thatwomanisanangel,aswellasyourmother.

Isupposeit'sonlyrightyoushouldseeher."

CHAPTERXIV

I HAD A PECULIAR EXPERIENCE as Jimmy drove me up to Mrs. Parish's place, a small apartment
oversomeone'sgarage.ShehadmovedsinceI'dlastbeenonEarth.IthoughtofMrs.Parishnotinterms
ofhowIrememberedher,buthowIhadwrittenaboutherinmystory.MymemoryofmylifeasShari
Cooper,Irealized,althoughdistinct,alsowasblankinafewspots.IwasShaributsomeoneelseaswell,
andIwasn'tjusttalkingaboutJeanRodriguesagain.

ItwaslikeIwasathirdperson,anewandimprovedversionoftheothertwogirls.ButthememoriesI
hadfromafterIdied,theonesIcouldrecall,didn'tsufferfromthisveil,andperhapsthatwasthereasonI
thoughtofMrs.ParishthewayIdid.

Mrs.Parishhadanarthriticspine.Often,ifwewerealoneinthehouse,shewouldletmehelphersweep
the floor or scrub the bathrooms.... Her hair was not one of her finer features. It was terribly thin. Her
scalpshowedalittle,particularlyonthetop,whenevershebentover,andshewasonlyfifty.Tobequite
frank, she wasn't what anyone would have called a handsome lady. She did, however, have a gentle,
lovelysmile.

Mrs. Parish smiled as she answered the door. Her right leg was encased in a walking cast. Her hands
werecoveredwithliverspots.Shehadlostconsiderableweight,andseemedmorestooped,olderthan
fifty-one.Buthersmilewaslovely;itmademyheartleapinmychesttoseeher.

"Jimmy,"shesaid."Whatawonderfulsurprise.Andyou'vebroughtafriend."

Sheofferedherhand.

"Hello,I'mMrs.Parish."

Ishookherfrailfingers."I'mJeanRodrigues."

Mrs.Parishsteppedaside."Pleasecomein.Iwasjustmakingmyselfcoffee.

Would you like some? I know Jimmy does. Black with cream, right? I have carrot cake as well, but I
knowJimmydoesn'twantanyofthat."

"Thecoffeewouldbegreat,"Jimmysaid."Jeandrinksitaswell.Howdidyoubreakyourleg?"

"Iwascleaningafriendofyourmother'shouse,"

Mrs.Parishsaidasshelimpedintothetinykitchen.Therewasn'troomtowatchMTVintheapartment,
but I supposed she didn't need much space now that Amanda was away in a state psychiatric hospital.
Mrs.Parishopenedtherefrigeratorandcontinued."Iwasmoppingthewoman'sfloorwhenIjustslipped
and fell. I lay there for three hours before anyone came home. I couldn't even get to the phone. Have a
seat,Jean,Jimmy,makeyourselvesathome."

"Youpoordear,"Isaid,sittingdown.

Mrs. Parish chuckled. "It was my own fault. I'm getting clumsy. Anyway, I've been stuck in here for a
coupleofmonths.AndthedoctorssayitwillbeanothertwomonthsbeforeIcangobacktowork."

She finished putting on more coffee and came over and sat down near us. "Oh, well, at least I have a
chancetocatchuponmyreading."

"Ireadalot,"Isaid."Iwritestoriesaswell."

Mrs.Parishwasinterested."Doyounow?That'swonderful,tobeabletoputyourideasdownonpaper.
Youmustletmereadyourwork.I'msureI'llloveit."

"Iwouldbeflatteredtohaveyoureadit."

Mrs.ParishgesturedtoJimmy."Sohowdidyoutwomeet?"sheasked.

"Iknewhissister,"Isaidquickly.

Mrs.Parishblinked."Didyounow?Shari?"

"Yes,"Isaid,holdinghereye,withJimmystaringatme,fidgeting,nodoubtwonderingwhatIwasupto.

"Iwasoneofherbestfriends.Ionlylearnedashorttimeagothatyouwereheractualmom.ItoldhimI
hadtomeetyou."

Mrs.Parishhadtotakeabreath."I'msorry,Jean,IneverheardSharitalkaboutyou.Butit'salwaysnice
tomeetsomeonewhoknewher.Didyoutwogotoschooltogether?"

"No.Iliveontheothersideoftown.Butweoftentalkedonthephone."

Mrs.Parishnoddedpleasantly,butherfacefellalittle."Shewasalovelygirl."

I leaned forward. "Another reason I wanted to meet you is because I wanted to share with you an
experience I had a few days after Shari died. I thought that you would be the one person who could
understandit.Butifit'stooupsettingtotalkabouther,Iunderstand."

Shestraightened."No.Pleasetellme.Iwanttohear."

IthoughtofwhatMrs.ParishhadsaidtotheemptyairasIsatbesideherinthedaysafterIdied.

"Shari.Ifyou'rethere,ifyoucanhearme,IwanttotellyousomethingthatIalmosttoldyouathousand
timeswhileyouwerealive.Findingyouagainafterlosingyouforallthoseyearswaswonderful.Itwas
thebestthingthateverhappenedtome.Itbroughtmesomuchjoy,IthoughtIwouldneveraskGodfor
anything else, because he had given me everything. And I kept that promise, until right now. You see, I
havetoaskhimonemorething,totellyouthis,thatIlovedyouasmuchasanymotherlovedachild.You
werealwaysmydaughter."

"IwassittingaloneinmylivingroomandthinkingaboutShari,"Isaid."Therewasnooneathome,and
somehowIdozedoffinmychair.IhadthisdreamthatShariwaswithawomanaboutyourageandshe
was helping her sweep a floor. The woman had a sore back, and when Shari set her broom down, she

rubbed the woman's spine to ease her pain. She said to her, 'Mom, finding you again was the most
wonderful thing that ever happened to me. I know how much you loved me. Don't worry about me, I'm
fine.IjustwantedyoutoknowhowmuchIlovedyou.WhenIwasalive,deepinside,apartofmealways
knewyouweremymother.'"Ipaused."Thensomethingwokemeup.Ahandonmyarm.Buttherewasno
onethere,Mrs.Parish."Ispokegently."Doesmydreammeananythingtoyou?"

AsoftlightshoneonMrs.Parish'sface.Inthatmoment,evenwithherwrinklesandhercastandherliver
spots,sheremindedmeoftheRishi.Theybothhadgrace.

"Yes,"shesaidquietly."Itmeanseverythingtome.Thankyou,Jean,forsharingitwithme."Shetouched
herchest."Iknowinmyheartshe'sallright."

I stood and went over to hug her. I was crying again—for maybe the tenth time that day. A baby cried
whenitwasborn,andformethiswaslikemybirthday.

Itfeltsogoodtohugmymotheragain.

"Iknowsheis,too,"Isaid.

CHAPTERXV

WEGOTBACKtoJimmy'splace,IaskedifIcouldcallmymother.

Jimmydidadoubletake."JeanRodrigues'smother,"Iexplained."She'llbeworriedaboutme."

"Youneverusedtoaskifyoucouldusemyphone.Maybeyouaren'treallyShari.Maybethisisalljustan
elaboratehoax."

Ipickedupthephone."Iaskedyouonceoutofpoliteness,butI'mnotgoingtoaskyouagain."

"Oh,thatsoundsfamiliar.IguessyouareShari,afterall."

I smiled at him. "Behave yourself. There are other secrets I can put in my book that will ruin your
reputation."Ipunchedoutthenumberquickly.Mymother,Mrs.Rodrigues,answered.Ifeltasclosetoher
as I had the day before. That was the great thing about having two sets of memories. Overnight I had
doubledmyfamily.TheonlydrawbackwasthatIcouldthinkoftwiceasmanypeoplewhoannoyedme.

"Hello?"

"Hi,Mama,it'sme.I'msafeandsound.Haven'tkeeledoverfromanybadheadaches.I'mwithafriendin
OrangeCounty.Imightbeoutlate.Justwantedyoutoknow.Howareyoudoing?"

"I'mfinebutCarolisupset.She'scalledthreetimes.Shewantsyoutocallherimmediately."

"Quepasa?"

"Idon'tknow.Shewouldn'ttellme.Butwhateveritis,Idon'twantyougettinginvolved.Youhearme?"

"Yes.Issheathome?"

"Ithinkso.Whoisthisfriendyou'rewith?"

"He'sanoldpal.I'lltellyouabouthimlater.Iwanttogo.IwanttocallCarol."

"RememberwhatIsaid,"shewarned.

IhungupthereceiverandquicklydialedCarol.

Jimmywatchedme."Doyoustillgetheadachesasaresultofyourfall?"heasked.

"Yes, and they're a real bitch. But don't worry, I'm not going to die on you again." Carol picked up. I
turned my back on Jimmy and shielded the phone with my hand. "Hello, baby doll. What's the big
emergency?"

Carolsoundedagitated."Igotbadnews.Darlene'sgotherselfapiece.Freddytoldmesheboughtitfrom
acrackdealeronHawthorne."

"That'snobigsurprise.Weknewshewasshopping."

"Yeah.Buthere'sthescarypart.LennycheckedoutofrehabandwentstraighttoDarlene'shouse.Freddy
toldmethat,too.MaybeDarlenegotthepieceforLenny.Ihearhecandrive.YouhearwhatI'msaying?"

"Thathemighttryadrive-byonJuanandtaketheheat?"

"Yeah.Youbettertalktohim.Bettertalktohimnow."

"I'monmyway.Gracias."

"Takecareofyourself,Jean.Ihaveabadfeelingaboutthis."

"I'llcallyouassoonasIknowsomething."

JimmywasstudyingmewhenIsetthephonedown.Iforcedasmile.

"Ihavetogo,"Isaid."Aproblemathome."

"Youdon'twantmetogetJo?Youweresoexcitedaboutseeingheraminuteago."

"Youcangether.Imightbeabletocomeoverlater."Iedgedtowardthedoor.

"I'llcallyou."

Hesteppedinfrontofme."Whatwasthatremarkyoumadeaboutsomeonedoingadrive-byandtaking
theheat?"

Ilaughed."Oh,that'sjusttoughgirltalk.It'snothing."

Hecrossedhisarmsoverhischest."I'mnotstupid,Shari."

Istoppedlaughing."It'snothingtoworryabout,Jimmy,Ipromise.I'llbebackintwohours.GogetJo.
Tellherwhat'shappened.Ibetyoucanconvinceherevenwithoutmethere.Imightbebackherebefore
you.Leavethedooropenforme."

"Can'tIgowithyou?"

"No,andIcan'texplainwhy.Thesituationiscomplicated."

Hesteppedasidereluctantly."WhydoIfeellikeIdidthelasttimewesaidgoodbye?"

"Willyoubeoutlate?"

"Nottoolate."

"Good."

'What'sthematter?"

"Nothing.I'mjusttired.Havefun."

"Sweetdreams,brother."

"Takecare,sister."

Iwentuponmytiptoesandkissedhimontheforehead."Iwillnotbeoutlate.

Iwillcomeback.Trustme,Iloveyoutoomuchtoleaveyouagain."

"Lovecan'tprotectyoufromeverything,Shari."

Iopenedhisdoor.Outside,itwasbeginningtogetdark.

"There'snothingIneedtobeprotectedfrom,"Isaid.

DarleneSanchez'shousewasapileofoldwood,plaster,andbadvibes.Herfatherhadabusedherwhen
shewassix.Whenshewastenhehadtakentworoundsinthechestfromadouble-barreledshotgunwhile
tryingtorobaliquorstore.Whenshewassixteenhermotherdiedfromcirrhosisoftheliverfromhaving
drunkhalfaliquorstore.Darlenewastough,though,Iknewfrompastliferegressions.Shecouldtakea
few setbacks and come out shooting. That was what worried me. Darlene answered the door when I
knocked.

"Jean,"shesaid."Whatareyoudoinghere?"

"Isthathowyousayhello?"

"Helloalready.Whatthehellareyoudoinghere?"

"IwanttoseeLenny."

"He'snothere."

"Idon'tbelieveyou."Ipushedatthescreendoor.

"Letmein."

Shepushedback;shewasastrongdevil."No.I'mwithaguy."

"You'rewithmyguy.OpenthegoddamndoororI'llcomeinthroughthewindow."

Darlenewasdark."Iwouldn'trecommendthat,Jean."

Ilaughedinherface."Whatareyougoingtodo,shootme?Doyoufeelempoweredbecauseyoubought
yourselfapiecetoday?Yeah,Iheardaboutyourgoldcreditcardpurchase.Doyouthinkowningagun
makesyoubad?

Youmakemesick.Youprancearoundlikeyou'resohottoavengeyourboyfriend'sdeath,andthenwhen
itcomescrunchtimeyoudragacrippledguyintoyourstupidplotandtellhimtodoallthedirtywork."

"Idon'tknowwhatyou'retalkingabout."

"I'msureyoudon't."Isuddenlyshovedhardonthedoor,catchingherbysurprise.Iwasinsidebeforeshe
couldstopme.Lenny,inawheelchair,satbesidethekitchentable.HeglancedoverasDarlenestartedto
grabmyhair.

"Letmetalktoheralone,"hesaidflatly.

Darlenestoppedwithherhandintheair."Alone?"sheasked,annoyed.

"Yeah,"Lennysaid."Goforawalk."

"Thisismicasa!"

"Goforalongwalk,"Lennysaid.

Darlenewentforawalk.IwentoverandsatatthetablenearLenny.

Physically, he looked better than when he had transferred from the hospital to the rehabilitation clinic,
whichwasthelasttimeIhadseenhim.Hehadsomecolorandhadputonweight.Buthishandsomeface
was still flat and cold. I felt as if I were about to talk to a perfect stranger. I'm sure the original Jean
wouldhavefeltthesameway.Heofferedmeacigarette,butIshookmyhead.

Theairwasthickwithsmokealready.Hetookapuffonhisowncigarettebuttandgrounditoutinafilthy
ashtray.

"Youlookgood,"Ilied.

"Foracripple?"

"I'msorry,Ididn'tknowyouwouldhearthatwhenIsaidit.I'mgladtoseeyou'reupandaround.Whatis
itlikehandlingthechair?Ibetittakessomegettingusedto."

Hesnorted."It'slikeridingabicycle.Theonlydifferenceistherideneverends."Headdedsoftly,

"Unlessyoudecidetocrash."

"Youdon'twanttocrash.You'vecometoofar.Lenny,lookatme.Talktome.

You'redoinggood.Tenweeksagoyouwerelyinginahospitalbed.Nowyou'reabletogoplacesandsee
people. This is a fresh start for you. It can be a fresh start for us. I care about you—a great deal." I
stoppedandaskedsadly,"Don'tyoucareaboutme?"

Hefinallylookedatme."Youlookdifferent."

Iforcedasmile."Isthatgood?"

"Idon'tknow."Hiseyesnarrowed."Whathaveyoubeendoinglately?"

"Waitingforyoutocall.ButotherthanthatI'vebeenbusy.Istartschoolinacoupleofweeks.I'mgoingto
theJC.I'vebeenworkingattheSubwayandatthehospital."Iadded,"I'vewrittenafewstories.Youcan
readthemifyou'dlike."

Heshrugged."Ineverread.Whydidyoucomeheretonight?"

"Ijusttoldyou.Toseeyou.I'mworriedaboutyou."

Hesmiledthinly,ashehadwhenJeantoldhimshewaspregnant."Youdon'thavetoworry,"hemuttered,
leaningbackinhischairandstretching.Itseemedasifhehadacrampinhisback.

"Areyouallright?"

"Yeah.Ijustbrokemybackisall."

"Lenny!"

Heshookhishead."Idon'tknowwhyyou'rehere."

Isatback,suddenlyastiredasthewholesickhouse."IheardDarleneboughtagun.Iheardshewantsyou
tokillJuanforwhathedidtoSporty.I'mheretotalkyououtofit."

Hechuckled."Youknownothing."

Istood.Theairinthehousewastooheavy.Reasoncouldnotprevailinsuchanatmosphere,Ithought.I
hadtogethimsomewhereelse,"Let'sgoforaride,"

Isaid.

"Towhere?"

"Afriend'shouse."

"Whoisthisfriend?"

"It'saguyImet.You'lllikehim.Let'sgobeforethedragonladygetsback."

Hesurprisedme.IthoughtIwouldhavetodraghimoutthedoor.

"Ifyouwant,"hesaid.

Jimmy'sthird-storyapartmenthadanelevatoraswellasastairway.Theformerhadprovedmostuseful
whenIhadhelpedhimmovein,althoughtheelevatorhadnotbeenwideenoughtoaccommodatehisbed
andchestofdrawers.Fortunately,Lennyandhiswheelchairfitintheelevatornicely,andsoonwewere
rollingintoJimmy'sapartment.Theplacewasempty.

"Doesheusuallygooutandleavehisplaceunlocked?"Lennyasked.

"ThisisOrangeCounty,notSouthCentral,"Isaid.

"Theyknowwhatthewordcrimemeansoverhere.Doyouhaveakeytothisguy'splaceorwhat?How
welldoyouknowhim?"

"Iknowhimverywell.Buthe'snotmyboyfriendoranythinglikethat."

Lennygaveabitterlaugh."LikeI'msupposedtobelievethat.Likeyou'regoingtowaitformetogetbetter
whenyouknowIwon't.Dropthecharade,Jean.

You'rescrewingthisguy.Webothknowit."

Mytemperflared.Maybeitwasabouttime.Maybeitwastheworsttime.Time,Iknew,wasdifferentin
OrangeCountythanitwasinSouthCentral.AsitwasdifferentonEarththanatthecenterofthegalaxy.
WhathadIseenthere?Thatwewereallpartofoneanother?Ifthatwasso,thenLennyhadjustbecome
anachingheadthatIjustwantedtorubsoftlyorelsepoundfuriously.Ijustwantedthemadnesstostop.
WhatIdidnotknowwasthathewantedthesamething.

"Youdropthecharade,youbastard,"Isaid."Iamnotscrewinganybodyandyouknowit."

Iwasverysurprisedwhenhepulledablackrevolver,completewithsilencer,fromunderneathhisshirt
andpointeditinmydirection.Hisgrinwastheworkofdemons.

"Oh, I know a thing or two about you," he said. "I know you were screwing Sporty when you were
supposedlygoingoutwithme.Iknowitwashisbabyyougotpregnantwith.AndIknowthatyou'regoing
todieinthenexttwominutes."

Iheldoutmyhandsdefensively.Imayhavewalkedthroughthevalleyoftheshadowofdeathandcome
backoutagain,butthatdidn'tmeanIwasanxioustorepeattheexperienceonanicesummerevening.His
wordshadshockedmesomuchthatIactuallysmiledinsteadofscreamed.Butitwasanawkwardsmile,
fullofpainandfear.Yeah,ithurtmethathewouldevenpointaguninmydirection,myboyfriend.Of
course,Iknewitwouldhurtalotmoreifhepulledthetrigger.

"Holdonjustasecond,"Isaid."IneversleptwithSporty.Whatgaveyouthatidea?Iwascertainlynever
pregnantwithhisbaby.Yougotitallwrong.Whohaveyoubeentalkingto?"

"Idon'tneedtotalktonoone.LastspringIdrovebyyourhouselateonenightandsawyoukissingSporty
goodbye.Itwaskindofdarkbutwhatyougavehimwasnobrotherlypeck."

Frantically, I tried to remember that night, searching memories that not only didn't belong to me, but in
morecasesthannothadbeenrecordedwithastonednervoussystem.Therewasonetime,inmid-May,
whenIdidrecallthatSportyhadbeenoverlate.HeandJeanhadbeensmokingpotandgoofingoff.

Shemighthavekissedhimgoodnight—hewasanoldfriendofhers—butIhadnorecollectionthatithad
been a hard kiss. The problem was, Jean might have been so high she momentarily thought she was
neckingwithLennyandwentatitabit.Whataparadox,Ithought.HowcouldIdefendmyselfforthings
shemighthavedone?Butonethingforsure,IknewJeanhadneversleptwithSporty.

"Imighthavekissedhim,Ican'tremember,"Isaidquickly."Wewerehighthatnight.ButIdidn'tsleep
withhim.Youhavenoproofofthat."

Hesneered."Noproof?Youtoldmeyouwerepregnant.Youwerepregnant.

Youlostthebabyinthefall.Youtoldmethataswell."

"So?Itwasyourbaby."

"Itcouldn'thavebeenmybaby!Whatkindoffooldoyoutakemefor?Iworeacondomeverytimewe
hadsex."

I chuckled despite the situation. "You are a fool. The condom broke once. You didn't even notice, but I
did.That'showIgotpregnantwithyourkid."

"Youexpectmetobelievethat?"

"It'sthetruth.Ithappensallthetime.Askanydoctororpharmacist.They'lltellyouthesamething."

Mywordsseemedtoshakehim.Theguninhishandmovedofftooneside.ButIdidn'tthinktotrytorush
him and wrestle it away. Lenny was six feet away, and even with his injury I knew he had excellent
reflexes.IfIjumpedhim,I'ddie,itwasthatsimple.AndIwouldhaveliedtomybrotherasecondtime.

"Itcan'tbe,"hewhispered,moretohimself.Hisfacewentgray;hisverysoulseemedtotremble.

"Sportyhadtogo."

"Whatdidyousay?"

Heregainedcontrolofhisaim."You'realying,cheatingbitch.That'sallthereistoit.I'mgoingtokillyou
now.Moveoverontothatbalcony."

"No!Iheardwhatyoujustsaid.YouweretheonewhoarrangedSporty'sdeath.

YoutookhimintoJuan'sterritorythatnight.Whatdidyoudo,tellhimthatyouhadarrangedatrucefor
himwithJuan?"

Lennywasenraged."Ididn'tshoothim!Ididn'tpullthetrigger!"

"But you set him up. I see it all. I should have seen it a long time ago. You told Juan where you'd be
walkingbyandatwhattime.Nowonderyoudidn'tgethit.Noonewasaimingforyou.Andyoucallmea
cheat.YougrewupwithSporty,forchrissakes!"

"And he was screwing my woman! He deserved to die!" Tears sprung into his eyes as he glared at me
withthedarkhintofmurderousguilt.ItwasthenIunderstood,evenbeforehesaidwhathedidnext,that
hefelthehadtokillmetojustifywhathehaddonetohisfriend.Toconvincehimselfthathehadnotmade
amistake.Itwastwistedlogic,andunfortunatelyitwasthekindpracticeddailyinthebarrioseverytime
someinnocentpersondied.

"Noonedeservestodiesoyoung,"Isaid.

"Ididn'twanthimtodie!Itwasyouwhomadehimdie!Itwasyouandyourgoddamnsluttyways!Getout

onthatbalcony.Itriedtokillyouonce—

knockingyouoffmybalcony—andbyGodI'mgoingtodoitthistime.Getoutthere,youbitch!"

Hewasserious,therewasnoarguingwithhim.Isteppedoutontothebalcony,nottakingmyeyesoffhim.
He followed me only partway. The wooden balcony was cramped, the sliding glass door that led to it
evenmorenarrow.Hemightbeabletowheelhischairout,Ithought,butitwasobvioushedidn'twantto.

Thenightairclosedaroundmelikeahandofdoom.Icouldn'tcomprehendthatmytimebackonEarth
wastobesoshort.Wasmykarmasobad?Itdidn'tseemfair.TheRishihadn'twarnedme.Yethehad,I
thought,inaway.

"What happened that night, Lenny? Did you set the balcony to collapse beneath me? At the critical
moment,didyourhandiworkfail?Didyouclimbdownbeneathmetofixitandthen—bigsurprise—me
andthebalconyfellonyou?Youknow,youalwayswerelousyatfixingthings."

"Collate!"

ByhisreactionIknewIhadhitthebull's-eye."JusttellmeifDarlenewasinonyourlittleescapade."

"Shewasn't."

"Great.That'sarelief.Nowwhat?Thisbalconyisn'tgoingtocollapsebeneathme,andI'mnotgoingto
jumpoffit.I'vehadenoughofthatstunt."

Lennysmiledgrimly."Butyouaregoingtojump.Thepainisgoingtomakeyoujump."

"Whatpain?"

Wrong question. Lenny took aim and fired. The bullet burst from the muzzle in a silent flare of orange
light.Ittorethroughtherightsideofmyrightthighwithanagonizingredrupture.EvenwhenIhadhitthe
concretewithmyheadafterfallingthreestories,Ihadn'tfeltsuchoverwhelmingpain.Crying,Isaggedto
thesideandinstinctivelycoveredthewoundwithmyrighthand.Thebloodpouredwarmandstickyinto
mypalm.Itsoakedmypantsanddrippedontotheboardsofthebalcony.Lennyshiftedthegunandaimed
itatmyleftthigh.

WherewereJimmy'sneighbors?WatchingcableTV?Ihadtoscream,Iknew,togettheirattention.ButI
alsoknewifIdid,hewouldjustputabulletthroughmyheart.Oh,God,Ithought.Ishouldneverhave
comeback.

"Youshouldjumpnow,"hesaid."Iwilltakeyouapartpiecebylittlepiece.Afewmorebulletsandthe
painwillbecomeintolerable."

"You'll never get away with it," I gasped. "The police will come. They'll catch you. You'll go to jail
forever."

Mythreatamusedhim."Yournewboyfriendwillprobablygetherebeforethepolice.I'lldohimlikeI'm
doingyou,slowlyandpainfully.Ihaveplentyofammunition.I'llsaveabulletformyself.Whenthepolice
gethere,therewillbenoonetoarrest."Heputpressureonthetrigger."Wouldyoulikeitinthecrotch?

Youcancovertheareawithyourhandifyoulike,butthebulletwillgorightthroughitandgetyouwhere
ithurtsmost."

"Please."Iwept,holdingoutmytremblingarm,horrifiedatthethoughtofwhatitwouldbeliketobeshot
there."Givemeasecond.I'llgetupontherailing.I'lldowhatyouask.I'lljump."

He was happy. He was sick. He was like some ancient beast dug up from a black tomb that the gods
should have long ago covered with a sacred mountain. His eyes shone the color of blood, and I hardly
recognizedhim.

"That'sagoodlittleslut."Hecackled."Butdoitfast,myfingerisitchy.Diveheadfirstifyoudon'twant
metoshootatyouwhileyou'relyingsplatteredontheconcrete."

"I'mhurrying,"Imoaned,easingmyselfupontothewoodenrailing.AllIcouldthinkwasthatIcouldn't
let him put another bullet in me. From so many violent films and TV shows people have become
anaesthetizedtowhatitisliketobeshot.Itisatragicthing.Mylivesweretragic.Theykeptbringingme
to a precipice where there was no hope of escape. I eased my bloody leg over the railing. "Lenny," I
pleaded,beforeIletgo.

Hewasnotthere,nottheguyIknew.Butthegunwas.Itpointedthroughtherailingsatmycrotch.

"Youhavetwoseconds,"hesaid."One—"Iletgo,partly.MyhandssliddownthewoodenrailingsandI
waslefthangingontothefloorofthebalcony.Mylegsdangledbelowme;itfeltasifariverofblood
drippedoutofmytornthigh.

Thepainwasalreadyintolerable,andmyplanwasreallynoplanatall.MyonlyhopewasthatnowthatI
wasbelowhislineofvision,hewouldn'tbeabletoshootme,notwithoutwheelingoutontothebalcony,
whichIprayedwastoonarrowforhischair.

Unfortunately,mystatusasaWandererdidnotmakeitinevitablethatGodwouldtakemyprayersunder
consideration. Peeking up over the side of the balcony, I saw Lenny approach steadily, past the coffee
tableandthroughtheslidingglassdoor.Hisbigroundblackwheelscoastedtothetipsofmyfingertips.It
wasthereheaimedthegun,notatmyhead.Hemusthavehadsomedeep-seatedperversewishtoseeme
fall.IsworeifIdid,Iwouldletoutascreamsoloudeverybodywouldcomerunning.Beforemybrother
couldcomerunning.AscreamwastheonethingIhadfailedtoletoutthelasttimeIhaddied,andasa
resultmostpeoplethoughtIcommittedsuicide.Ofcourse,thatwouldnotbeaproblemthistimewiththe
bulletholeinmyleg.

"One,"Lennyrepeated.

"Jesus,Lenny."

"Two."

He fired at my right hand. My fingers were sprayed; the bullet splintered the wood between them.
Technically,hedidn'thitme,buttheshockofthestrikingbulletwasenoughtomakemelosemygripwith
thathand.Careeningwildlytotheleftside,Ifoughttobringmyrighthandbackupontothebalcony.It
wasaloser'sstrategy.SowhatifIgotitbackup.Hewouldjustshootmyfingersoff,andtherewouldbe

thatmuchlessofmetobury.

Still,Ifought.Still,Icouldnotcomprehendthatthiswasreallyhappeningtome.Notagain.

Lenny'swildfaceloomedaboveme.

"Master!"Icried.

Lenny'sfacesuddenlysoftened."Shari,"hesaid,asifsurprised.

Timecouldhavehalted.Istaredathim.

"What?"Isaid.

Hereacheddowntosaveme.Ireachedup.Buthewastoolate.Ilostmygrip.Ifell.Isawtheedgeofthe
apartmentroof,thestars.Therewereonlyafewofthelatter,andtheyweren'tverybright.Notcompared
to the lamppost that stood near the entrance of the apartment complex, which suddenly began to rush
towardmeatanincrediblespeed.

Ihadbeenthisroutebefore.IknewhowthestarswouldchangewhenmyheadhitthegroundandIrolled
over and looked up. There would be millions of them in the sky then. Orange ones and green ones and
blueones.Therewouldespeciallyberedones,whichwouldmultiplyrapidlyandblotouteverythingelse
intheheavensasacolossalwaveofsmotheringhotwax—allthebloodinmybrain—ranoutandcovered
myface.Iwouldblackout.Iwoulddie.

CHAPTERXVI

WESATINATRIANGLE.Peterlookeduneasy.Ididn'tfeelsohotmyself,notforbeinginheaven.The
Rishi,however,hadlostnoneofhisequanimity.Theclearstreamtricklednearby.Theairwasstillfresh
withthefragranceofflowers.Thesunshone;inthisrealmitseemednevertoset.IwonderedifPetersaw
theMasterasIdid,butIsupposeditdidn'tmatter.IonlyhopedthatPeterlistenedtohim.

"What'sgoingon?"Peterasked.

"I'mgoingbacknow,"Isaid.

"Towhere?"Peterasked.

"Earth.Aphysicalbody.ButI'mnotgoingtobebornasababy.I'mgoingtoenterthebodyofaneighteen-
year-oldgirlnamedJeanRodrigues.I'mgoingtobewhatiscalledaWanderer."

Peter'sfacesagged."You'regoingtoleave?Youcan'tleave.Wejustgothere."

HeappealedtotheRishi."What'sthebigrush?"

"Therearereasons,"theRishisaidcalmly.

Peterwasdistraught."ButIdon'twanthertoleave.Shari,don'tyouhaveanysayinthis?"

"Ido.It'salluptome.ButIhavetogo.Notjustformyselfbutforotherpeopleaswell.Ihavesomething
importanttodoonEarth."

"Butwon'tyoumissme?"heaskedpitifully.

Myeyesmoistened."Yes."

PeterturnedtotheRishi."CanIgowithher?Ihavetogobackifshe'sgoing."

TheRishiconsidered."Itispossible.ButIwouldn'tadviseit.Youhavemuchtolearnonthisside,Peter,
beforeyoureturn.Thelasttimeyouwereinaphysicalbody,youmadesomemistakes.Ifyoureturntoo
quickly,youmightrepeatthesamemistakes."

Peterwastakenback."Areyoureferringtomysuicide?"heaskedquietly.

"Yes,"theRishisaid.

"ButIwon'tdoitagain.EspeciallyifI'mwithShari.I'llknowhowfoolishanactitwas."

"Whenwereturnthisway,"Isaidgently."Wedon'tnecessarilyrememberthespiritualrealm.TheRishi,
theMaster,hasexplainedhoweasyitistogetcaughtupinmatteragain."

"ThechancetobecomeaWandererisagreatgift,"theRishiagreed."Butitisalsoahugeresponsibility.
Youwouldbemorereadytoacceptthatresponsibilityifyouspentmoretimebetweenlives."

Peterwouldnotlisten."ButIdon'twanttobehereifshe'snothere.I—Iloveher.YoutoldmewhenI
arrivedthatthemainthingincreationwaslove.Don'tmyfeelingscountforsomethinginthisdecision?"

TheRishismiledfaintly."Theydo.Divinelovetranscendsallreason.ItisthepathtoGod.Butisyour
lovedivine,Peter?Ordoyouwishtoreturnsimplybecauseyouwillmissher?"

Peterwasstubborn."MyloveforShariisasrealasmyloveforGod.Iknowthat.You'resowise—you
mustknowthat."

The Rishi gestured innocently. "I know that I don't know. That is how I can feel the will of God." He
brieflyclosedhiseyes."Ifeelmanythingsrightnow.Ifyougoback,itwillbehardforyou."

"Idon'tcare,"Petersaid."AslongasI'mwithShari.Canyoupromisemethatmuchatleast?"

TheRishiregardedPetergravely."Yes.Icanpromiseyouthat.Butyouthrewawayyourlastlife.When
you steered your motorcycle in front of the truck, you almost lived. Had you survived, you would have
beencrippledforlife.Ifyoureturnnow,youwillreturnasacripple."

"No!"Icried."That'stoohorrible.Theremustbeanotherway."

"Thosearethechoices,"theRishisaid."ItisuptoPetertochose."

"Don'tdoit,"IsaidtoPeter."Youknowme,Iliverecklessly.Iwon'tbegonesolong.Stayhereandlearn
whatyouhavetolearn.Youdon'twanttobeinacrippledbody.Youmightnotbeabletohavesex."

Petersmiledsadly."ButIwouldratherhavelovethansex.Iwouldratherhaveyouthanhavelegsthat
work." He reached over and took my hand. "Even back in our bodies, you won't forget me and I won't
forgetyou.Itcanwork,Iknowit."Headded,"Ifthat'swhatyouwant,Shari?"

"Idon'twantyoutospendyearssuffering."

"Iwon'tsufferifyou'rewithme."

Ismiledthroughmytears."Whatareyoutalkingabout?I'lldriveyoucrazy."

"Ienjoybeingcrazyaboutyou,"Petersaid.HeappealedoncemoretotheRishi.

"CanIgo?IacceptthatIwillhavetobecrippled.Iseethejusticeinit."

TheRishinodded."Youmaygo."

Iwasstillworried."Butisthisthebestcourse?"

TheRishilaughedeasily."Imustconfessthisentireconversationhasbeensomethingofatestforbothof
you. Everything I said about the reasons you should stay were true, Peter. But I love love more than
anything in this creation. Don't worry, Shari. If someone makes a sacrifice in love, then only good can
comefromitinthelongrun.GoodwillcomefromPeter'sdecision,forbothofyou."

"IsthereanythingwecandoonEarthtohelpusrememberthistimewithyou?"Peterasked.

"Sharihasaskedmethisquestionseveraltimes,"theRishisaid."Myanswertoyouisnotthesame.For
youtoremember,Peter,youwillneedahugeshock.

Youwillhavetoreturntothatmomentofdespairthatpreviouslymadeyoutakeyourlife.Youwillhave
tofaceitsquarely.Andthistimeyouwillhavetodecidetolive."Hepaused."Whatdidyouthinkofjust
beforeyoudied?"

Peterconsidered."IthoughtofShari."

TheRishinoddedandstood."Theneventswillarrangethemselvessothatthelessonisrepeated.Ihope
youpassthetest.Butifyoudon't,youwilljusthavetotakeitagainlater."Heofferedbothhishands,one
foreachofus."Comechildren,it'stime.LennyandJeanareinthehospital,unconscious."

EPILOGUE

LENNYANDIhadenteredtheapartmentcomplex,wehad,asIsaid,usedtheelevatorbecauseofhis
wheelchair.Theliftwasatthefrontofthecomplex.Thepoolwasintherear.Lenny,thereforeprobably
notuntilhewheeledhimselfoutontothebalconytotrytoshootoffmyfingers—didnotevenknowthere
wasafair-sizebodyofwateralmostdirectlybeneaththebalcony.Therewasanotherimportantelementin
thescenario.JustbeforeIlostmygrip,asIfoughttoreachforLenny'shand,Iswungupwithmyright
arm. The move was in one sense counterproductive and in another sense beneficial. It had the effect of
making me lose my grip, but it also threw me away from the balcony and farther out over the central
courtyard,justbeforeIstartedonmylongfalltomydeath.YetIdidn'tdie.

Tomakealongstoryshort,Ilandedinthedeependoftheswimmingpool.

Boy,thatwasonebellyflopthatstung.Ibobbledtothesurfacereadytoscream.Thewaterwasalready
stainedwithmyblood.

JustthenJimmyandJocameby.Jimmytookonelookatmeandappearedreadytofaint.ButJoburstout
laughing.

"Hey,Jimmy,"shesaid."Youareright.ThatmustbeShari.She'sstilljumpingoffbalconies."Jowalked
totheedgeofthepoolandofferedmeahelpinghand.

"IfyouareShari,thenIfinallyhaveanicknameforyou."

IletJopullmeoutofthepool.Myleghurtsomethingawful,butaslongasitdidn'thavetobeamputated,
Ididn'tmind.IrememberedthatJooftengavepeoplenicknames.Inoticedthatshehadbleachedherhair
blond.Shealwaysdidwanttohavemorefun.

"What'sthat?"Iaskedmyoldfriend.

Shegiggled."TheFallGirl."

"Shari!"someonecalledfromthreestoriesup."Areyouallright?"

"Yeah!Isthatyou,Peter?"

"Thisisturningouttobeaweirdday,"Jimmymuttered.

"Yeah!"Petershouted."Iremember!Irememberyou!"

Ismiled."That'swhatIwantedmost!"

TOBECONTINUED...

TableofContents

CHAPTERI
CHAPTERII
CHAPTERIII
CHAPTERIV
CHAPTERV
CHAPTERVI
CHAPTERVII
CHAPTERVIII
CHAPTERIX
CHAPTERX
CHAPTERXI
CHAPTERXII
CHAPTERXIII
CHAPTERXIV
CHAPTERXV
CHAPTERXVI
EPILOGUE