Crossed Out Read online

  The only way Dylan might do this was if the counselor explained my gift.

  “Oh, why don’t you follow me back to his office? Dr. Anthony can explain this to you.”

  “Dr. Anthony?” Dylan shook his head. “This whole thing sounds strange.”

  “Yeah,” I muttered, “more than you know.”

  Chapter 13

  I couldn’t leave the airbase fast enough. I got back on the I-80. Thick fog swamped the freeway. I squinted, looking for the familiar Arden Way exit sign. All the while, adrenaline surged through my body.

  Dylan’s familiar Chevy truck followed close behind. I imagined his stupid happy-face antenna ball bobbed up and down and his hands tightly gripping the steering wheel while he cursed me out.

  Boy, the crap really hit the fan this time. I dreaded the conversation to come, inside the counselor’s office.

  I’d take the pissed off spirit back at the airbase any time.

  I finally got to the office. The dreariness of the fog wrapped a depressing blanket around me. How could I have been so stupid to let anyone – namely Dylan – know about my nocturnal activities?

  Note to self: Next time try to be a little bit more observant when out on a rescue. Who knows who, or what, you’ll encounter.

  My next rescue? Sickness rose in the back of my throat. As if that’s going to happen any time soon.

  I drove into the deserted parking lot. No sooner did I stumble out of my car, than Dylan’s truck screeched to a stop. He flung his door open and jumped out.

  “Okay, Steph.” He slammed his door shut. “We’re here.” He glanced around the darkened lot. “Enough of the games....”

  At that moment the headlights of a car blinded me. Talk about perfect timing. A dark Honda Accord drove into the parking lot, stopping Dylan from further ranting.

  Dr. Anthony opened the car door. His bad left leg stuck out at a weird angle. With a shove, he got out. His fogged-over glasses made it hard to make out his expression. I resisted the urge to laugh. He so looked like a doofus. His short, dark hair spiked out around his head like porcupine quills.

  Dylan stared at Dr. Anthony, then at me.

  “Hello.” Dr. Anthony stretched his hand out to Dylan. “My name is Dr. Anthony.”

  Dylan glanced at the hand, but made no move to take it.

  The counselor turned to me. “Stephanie. Dylan. Why don’t we all go inside?” Dr. Anthony rubbed his hands together. “I, for one, find the cold weather invigorating. “But—” he looked at me “—I think it would be better to have our discussion inside.”

  “Yeah, whatever.” Dylan threw his hands up. “I give up. Let’s get this over with.”

  Wondering at the counselor’s calm reaction to Dylan’s presence, I didn’t make any smart-ass comments.

  Dr. Anthony drew out a rectangular key from his jean pocket and opened the back entrance. I followed behind them.

  Once inside, the pitch-dark interior felt like a tomb. I folded my arms, trying to get warm. I didn’t know which felt colder, the temperature inside or Dylan snubbing me.

  We walked down the hallway, turned left, and past several doors. Between the small bathroom and the other offices was the counselor’s office.

  When Dr. Anthony opened his door and flicked on a light, it took a minute for my eyes to readjust. The familiar green-cushioned chairs and mahogany table were as I remembered.

  What caught my eye was against the back wall stood the metal cabinet. I shuddered. I knew what lay hidden inside – that gruesome bloody cloth Dr. Anthony had shown me at our last meeting. I hoped he wouldn’t share that secret with Dylan.

  “What’s going on here?” Dylan asked.

  Dr. Anthony took his glasses off and wiped them. He glanced sideways at me. “Have you told him?”

  “Told me what?” Dylan plopped into an oversized chair.

  I stared at the counselor, silently pleading for help. I didn’t know what to say or where to begin. How do you tell a friend you’ve had since childhood that you do things with dead people – without him thinking you’re crazy?

  Dr. Anthony put his glasses back on and limped to his cushioned chair. “Yes, Stephanie.” He sat down. “Why don’t you tell us what happened?”

  I resisted the urge to kick his smug body out of his chair. Not because it was so fifth grade, but if I had even the remotest chance of Dylan believing me, I needed the counselor’s support.

  Ignoring my fear of ridicule, I reached for the glass candy jar on the counselor’s table and grabbed five Tootsie Rolls.

  My hand trembled. Two chocolates fell. “I saw another spirit.”

  Dylan’s eyes widened. “Spirit?”

  “Yes, Dylan I see spirits. You know, ghosts, dead people?”

  “So it wasn’t my imagination back at the airbase?” Dylan gave a low whistle. “I really did see a ghost.”

  “Yes.” I smiled. “Welcome to my life.”

  Dylan turned to the counselor. “And you knew about this?”

  Dr. Anthony held up his hand up, cutting Dylan off. He turned to me. “This wasn’t the same spirit you saw at Hillary’s?”

  “No, someone else.” I popped one of the chocolates in my mouth. “What … I thought you’d already know?”

  The counselor ignored my sarcasm. “What else happened?”

  “Well, I saw the place, made my cross and went there. But....”

  “Whoa.” Dylan jumped up. “You lost me. First you say you see spirits.”

  I nodded in agreement.

  “Then you make crosses and go....” He looked at Dr. Anthony. “Do you know what she’s talking about?”

  Dr. Anthony drummed his finger together. “Dylan, what Stephanie says is true.”

  Dylan’s eyes widened. “No way.”

  “Yeah, way,” I said.

  Dylan gave me a withering stare.

  “But before you judge her,” Dr. Anthony continued. “I think you need to share something with her too.”

  “Wait a minute here.” Dylan got up. “I’m not the one getting up at the crack of dawn to chase after ghosts.”

  “Oh, really.” Dr. Anthony’s voice stayed calm. “Didn’t you just say you saw a spirit too?”

  “Well – yeah – I guess. But if you tell anyone else, I’ll deny it. My mom would really kill me if she knew I snuck out.”

  “The same way you deny what you see every day?” The counselor asked.

  What did he just say? It was my turn to stare.

  “You see stuff too, Dylan?” I couldn’t believe it! All the time I was worried he wouldn’t believe my gift, he was seeing things too. Talk about ironic!

  Dylan scuffed his shoes on the carpet and glared at Dr. Anthony. “How did you know?” he muttered. “You don’t even know me.”

  “Wait a minute here.” I looked at Dylan then the counselor. “You’re saying Dylan shares our gift?”

  “Dylan has the ability to see auras.” Dr. Anthony said. “This light reveals a person’s character, right Dylan?”

  Dylan glared at him. “Why do you ask?”

  “Is that your gift, Dylan?” I couldn’t understand why he was so pissed. It wasn’t as if his gift meant he had to go hiding and be secretive. Or was it?

  A memory came back to me of the day Dylan’s family sent his grandmother to the mental hospital. How one day she’d been at church, sharing her own experiences during Sunday School, and the next she’d been taken away. I could still remember Dylan’s mother’s horrified reaction.

  “Dylan. Is that what your Grandma Kate can do?”

  Dylan folded his arms and took a step backwards. “I don’t want to talk about it. And even if I did see lights or whatever, no way is it like the weird stuff you two are doing.”

  With that he left, slamming the door behind him.

  It took a minute for what the counselor said to register. Dylan saw auras? Wasn’t that some kind of freaky halo around people? I remember reading somewhere that auras could tell a person’s thoughts o
r show if they were in trouble. Whoa, now it was starting to make sense. No wonder he seemed to be popping up whenever I was in trouble.

  Dr. Anthony shrugged his shoulders. “I’d hoped the two of you would work together. Well, we have more pressing issues at hand. You only have a few hours—” he glanced at his Seiko wristwatch, “—more like two hours to finish your rescue.”

  I stared at the closed door. I didn’t know whether to cry or laugh. I might have an ally after all...when Dylan chilled out, which at the moment didn’t look promising.

  But the counselor was right. I didn’t have time to dwell on Dylan – not now anyway.

  I squared my shoulders and pushed my fears away. I glanced at the counselor. “Well, what are we waiting for? Are you going to help me this time?”

  Chapter 14

  I settled back into my chair, still not believing my dumb luck. I’d really believed Dylan would help me once he knew.

  Sure, I suspected something was up with him. But when the counselor mentioned that Dylan had his own gift of – what did he call it – seeing auras around people, Dylan had split. Left me. I felt as if the bandage around my heart had been ripped open again. I should have known better than to trust anyone with my secret, including Dylan.

  Then the door was open. And Dylan stood there, his hair more unruly than usual, as if he’d raked it with his fingers. I resisted the urge to jump up and hug him.

  “Okay, no more secrets. I want to know what you’re doing.” He pointed his finger at Dr. Anthony. “And what does all this have to do with me?”

  Dylan stepped into the office and stopped. He glared at the counselor, then me, his mouth tightened into a stubborn line. I squirmed under his intense gaze, but I couldn’t stop staring at him. Could it be possible I might be able to trust him with my secret?

  “What?” That tone in Dylan’s voice only meant one thing – just because he’d come back didn’t mean he wanted to join my rescuers’ supporter club.

  But still, I’d hoped.

  “I’m s-s-sorry. I can’t believe you came back. I mean—”

  “Well, don’t get too excited.” Dylan scowled. “I need to know what’s going on first.”

  “I’m glad you decided to come back.” Dr. Anthony watched our exchange, his index fingers tapping together.

  He dropped his hands and motioned for Dylan to come in. “Maybe you can help us tonight.”

  My head did about face. I stared at the counselor. “Help?” I frowned. “How can Dylan help us? I mean, it’s not as if he’s a rescuer, right?”

  “Rescuer?” Dylan asked. “Is that what you call yourself?”

  “Yeah, why else do you think I’d be out at night? And with a cross, no less?”

  “I don’t know, Steph. Aren’t you going a little too far – giving yourself credit for something only Hollywood can do? Come on. Sending spirits to a so-called light?”

  His words stung. Blinking back tears, I grabbed another Tootsie Roll from the candy jar and popped it in my mouth.

  “Dylan, we don’t have the luxury of time to argue.” Dr. Anthony pointed to one of the chairs. “Please sit down.”

  “All I want is an explanation,” Dylan said. “First, how did you know about my so-called ability?”

  “You’re Katherine Van Buren’s grandson, right?” Dr. Anthony asked.

  “Yeah, but what does that have to do with it?”

  “Let’s just say I’ve worked with your grandmother before.”

  “Wait a minute.” Dylan leaned over, pointing his finger. “You’re saying Grandma Kate did stuff like Steph? No way. Or....” A stunned expression covered his face. “That’s what she meant.”

  “Meant what?” I asked.

  “Oh, something she wrote in her journal. Man, it’s all making sense now.”

  “Is that why your grandmother is in the hospital now, Dylan?” I asked. It still seemed too weird to find out that Dylan shared a gift all this time and hadn’t told me. But then I hadn’t been too truthful either.

  “No, Dylan.” A sad expression came over Dr. Anthony’s face. “We had nothing to do with that.”

  Dylan shook his head. “This is too much. Way too much.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I can relate.” I touched his arm. “Finding out about Dr. Anthony wasn’t exactly easy for me either.”

  Dylan stared at me as if I’d lost my mind. “Tell me about it. This is all too crazy to accept. It had to be a fluke seeing that ghost. No way can anyone help them. Not me.” He nodded in my direction. “Or you.”

  “Well, I’ve been doing this for a while,” I retorted. “I can’t believe you’re brushing off something you saw.”

  Dylan ignored me and turned to Dr. Anthony. “Hey, I’m sorry if I’m being rude but come on. Using crosses to release spirits? Wouldn’t you be skeptical?”

  “And yet, you’re here, Dylan. So maybe you’re not as much of an unbeliever as you think.”

  Dylan sat down. “It has nothing to do with that. I sensed Stephanie was in trouble. So I went to help. No big deal.”

  “What did you see in my aura, Dylan?” I couldn’t resist asking.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Is that why you always seem to know where I’m at? Or why you ended up at the airbase?”

  He glared sideways at me. “What do you think? Like I said, I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

  “Stephanie?” Dr. Anthony swiveled his chair away from Dylan. “Tell me what happened at the murder site.”

  I ignored Dylan’s questioning gaze. “Uh, sorry. I was about to drive the cross into the ground, when the lady spirit went all mental on me.”

  “How?”

  “Well, she got this really pissed off look on her face, like I was doing something offensive. Then she knocked the cross out of my hands. I didn’t know spirits could do that.”

  “Whoa, that kind of explains the weird stuff that happened during lunch yesterday,” Dylan said under his breath. “Whoever knew ghosts could mess with people that way.”

  What? I glanced back at Dylan. Had he experienced the same weird stuff in the cafeteria?

  Note to self: Try to get the 411 on Mark. If Dylan sensed something around him the other day, then maybe Mark shares similar abilities of seeing things. I didn’t want any more surprises.

  “There are a lot of things you don’t know yet.” Dr. Anthony threaded his fingers together. “What did the victim look like? Did anything seem different about her?”

  “No.” My eyes widened. “Hey, wait a minute; she did have some kind of scarf around part of her head.” I shuddered. The memory totally grossed me out. “The part of her head that wasn’t caved in, that is.”

  “Did she say anything that seemed strange?”

  “She seemed to be really offended that I used a cross.” I rewound the memory of the failed rescue in my head. Her language sounded different and she’d been dressed in clothing that seemed vaguely familiar. Where had I seen it? Then it hit me. I couldn’t believe how dense I was.

  “Hey,” I straightened in my chair, “do you think the reason she got mad might be because she was Muslim?”

  Dr. Anthony didn’t answer. Instead, he got up and made his way to the back cabinet.

  I thought I’d be sick. “Wait a minute. You don’t have more bloody cloths hidden in there, do you, because if you do, I’m history.”

  “Bloody cloths?” Dylan jumped up. “Whoa, this is getting too weird. What are you talking about?”

  “Stephanie and Dylan, sit down. We don’t have time for childish outbursts. Especially since there’s something I still need to share … with both of you.”

  The counselor removed something wrapped in a light blue flannel cloth from the cabinet. He peeled back the fabric to reveal a narrow arc. In his other hand he held some rosary-like beads.

  “Is that what I think it is?” Dylan stood up and stared at the object in Dr. Anthony’s hand.

  “Here’s an example of a talisman,”
the counselor said. “These are Muslim prayer beads. They are a symbol of the girl’s faith. You’ll place them by the talisman when you do the crossing.”

  Dylan sat back down and turned to me. “Steph, I thought you only did crosses. You do stuff for Muslims too?”

  “No, this is news to me.” Confused, I stared at wooden beam and beads. “Why do you have that, Dr. Anthony?”

  “Did you wonder why you couldn’t release the woman’s spirit? Stephanie, it matters whether the spirits are Christian, Jewish, or Muslim. Not all faiths use crosses. Think instead that each faith has its own special talisman.”

  Talismans? Who’s going to carve all these things? This was getting too complicated for me. I don’t know where I’d come up with the idea of making a cross. It just came to me. Make a cross, put it in the place where the victim was killed, and poof, they went into the light. I guess I should have known better.

  But it wasn’t as if this calling came with a how to guide. I slumped in my chair, a million questions rushing through my mind.

  “I’m so confused. How will I know what to use with each spirit?”

  “You’ll know,” Dr. Anthony said.

  “So this will help?”

  “Well, there’s only one way to find out.” Dr. Anthony rewrapped the wooden beam and beads back into the cloth.

  “You mean you’re going with me?” I asked.

  “Yes.” he nodded to Dylan. “You can come too. Consider this as the first part of training for you two.”

  Chapter 15

  We left the counselor’s office with a shared goal – get back to the airbase, and fast. I glanced at my watch. Three in the morning! Less than two hours remained. If we didn’t get there in time, the spirit of that poor woman would roam the earth forever and be subject to darker forces. Talk about Hell on Earth. I prayed the counselor was right – that his crescent talisman would work to guide the spirit I’d met earlier.

  “Stephanie, why don’t you go with your friend?” Dr. Anthony fished his keys out of his side pocket. “I’ll follow.”

  I glanced at Dylan. I was still worried he wouldn’t want anything to do with me once this was all over.