Chapter 334: 'Bye, Al
One last grief.
I hesitated in the funeral home parking lot, not sure I could keep moving after all. Mom's hand took mine, squeezed gently and I squeezed back. She'd come, no questions asked, just showing up that morning in the kitchen, and held me while I cried and fought to pull myself together.
I hadn't seen Alison's ghost since the Dumont's attack and hoped her echo moved on. But for now, in the moment standing outside the place of the dead, I felt like the echo.
"You don't have to do this." Mom waited, as patient as ever. "Syd."
I nodded, snuffling a little. "Yes," I said, "I do."
My feet crunched over the asphalt, the small stones poking my feet through my shoes, anchoring me to the ground. My demon hummed softly in her sadness, Shaylee singing a gentle lament over and over again. As much as it could have been annoying, I took great comfort from the two of them and welcomed their pain into mine.
Some things were better shared.
Beth and Simon stood in the entry of the squat building with Quaid and Liam, my two normal friends looking out of place and uncomfortable in the old-fashioned parlor entrance. I flinched from the smell of antiseptic and the howling ghost of a young woman who rushed past and through me the moment I crossed the threshold.
Mom's hand tightened again. Like this.
She shared her filter, how her magic threw a curtain across the image, blocking out the horrible visions, the same shield, subtle but powerful, which also restricted her from hearing the echoes of the dead.
Relief. I almost staggered from it as I erected a similar ward just as a creepy old man with half of his head missing rushed at me, arms outstretched, vanishing just before he reached me.
Beth replaced him, staggering forward, arms open to me, wrapping around me as she sobbed on my shoulder. Simon stood behind her, as awkward and skinny as ever, pushing his glasses up his nose repeatedly with one finger while tears trickled down his cheeks.
Mom hugged Beth while Simon took his turn with me, little body stiff and voice rough.
"Hey, Syd," he said.
His greeting brought a sad smile to my face. "Hey, Simon."
"I'm sorry." Beth pulled away from Mom, pulling a tissue out of the cuff of her black sweater, using it to dab delicately at her eyes and nose. "I don't mean to be a mess."
I hugged her again. "I think it's okay this once," I said.
She tried a smile, laughed a little. "Alison wouldn't mind, would she?"
I grinned. "Alison would have loved it. Sob away. She was the queen of drama, remember?"
My friend giggled, looked guilty. "Syd," she said, slightly shocked.
"Well," I shrugged. "She was. And I loved her for it."
The two of them sat with us, Quaid and Liam on the far end as Beth scooted in next to me. I'm not sure if she was looking for comfort, but I took it from her and the way she reached for and held my hand. The ushers planted us somewhere midway down the long, thin room, seating us in velvet covered chairs while the organist played endlessly on and on. I kept my head down at first, worried I'd see Angela and not really ready for it. But I finally had to look up and, when I did, felt a shock go through me.
They were all here. The cheergirls. The football jocks. Even the braniacs and the emos. Everyone came, it seemed. Even Page.
She met my eyes and looked away quickly, her darting nervousness making her body twitch like she had an itch she'd never been able to scratch.
The anger started with my demon, more than happy to shove aside her grief for more familiar fury. Even Shaylee halted her singing, outrage shaking me as the pair of them glared through my eyes at the gathered teenagers.
How dare they? The fakers. Look at how the cheergirls wept all over each other like they ever really gave a crap about Alison. How the football jocks pretended to care, uncomfortable in their letter jackets and ties their mommies surely made them wear. And Page. Of all people. Mom's still unfamiliar power pressed down on me, holding me in my seat while the three parts of me-you can bet I was included-fought her.
Forget them. Mom's voice was gentle and calm. You're here for Alison, for her parents. Mom sounded suddenly baffled. I don't think I'll ever understand the rituals of normals. How exactly is sitting here supposed to help them overcome their grief?
I didn't have time to answer. The music swelled and the coffin entered, rolled in on a carved table, four ushers flanking it. And behind, head down, face pressed into a wad of tissues, came Angela, a tallish, balding man holding her up by the presence of his arm around her shoulder.
Alison's mysterious father finally showed up.
More rage surged, flooded my veins. Mixed with guilt. Lots and lots of guilt.
Yeah, I was having a wonderful time.
When we finally sat down again, after Alison's tiny family of two took the front seats, I answered Mom's question.
They can't contact the spirits of the dead, remember? I finally found my voice again. This is the only way they have to mourn.
Mom's face crumpled. How very sad.
The service was painful. I found myself crying at all the appropriate spots. It was like the minister knew exactly what to say and when to stab me in the heart just right.
Jerk.
I stood again when it was over, Mom holding my hand on one side, Beth on the other, as Angela and her husband Roger led the way out, the polished black coffin following.
Alison would have said black made her look skinny, at least.
Why did it hurt so much?
A short drive in Mom's blue mustang and we were at the cemetery, watching the same coffin being lowered into the ground. I held back as Angela turned to accept a hug from someone, not wanting her to see me, knowing my being here would only upset her.
She had to blame me for Alison's death.
I did.
But when her eyes caught mine, she hurried toward me, arms out, pulling me against her, holding me tight and whispering my name in my ear. I clung to her for a moment, every horrible thing forgotten, just happy to hug my best friend's mom and remember Alison for who she was, not what she'd become.
Angela finally pulled away, dabbing at her cheeks while she tried to smile. She looked up, over my shoulder, caught sight of Mom and reached out to take my mother's hand.
"Thank you, Miriam," Angela said. "You were a better influence on my daughter than I ever was."
"She was a wonderful girl, Angela," Mom said so kindly I choked up again.
Blue eyes met mine again. "Syd," Angela said, "I want you to know how much you meant to my daughter. To thank you for being there for her, no matter what. She loved you so much." Angela's tears started up again. "You were the only real friend she ever had."
It was so hard to hear her say those things when I knew different.
She needs to know you understand, Mom sent.
I bobbed my head like I'd forgotten where I was. "I loved her too," I managed to whisper.
A soft thread of familiar power touched me, turned me around as Mom leaned in to hug Angela. I caught sight of Mia, dressed in black, looking so much like her old self I almost did a double take, standing next to a distant tombstone. But before I could go to her, my power reaching for hers, she turned and disappeared behind a large oak tree.
Give her some time, Mom sent. She'll come to you eventually.
At least that ending might be happy, then.
I had one final cry with Angela after she introduced me to Roger who shook my hand forever and did his best not to sob himself before the two turned and sadly left the cemetery.
I'd eased up on the shielding around my mind after leaving the funeral home, surprised to find only a few ghosts hanging around their final resting places. A flicker of motion near Alison's headstone caught my attention, enough I knew I had to stay until everyone else had gone. Beth and Simon hugged me too, promising they'd call though I knew it was likely neither of them would.
It didn't take long for the mourners to break up after the Morgans left. I didn't have to ask Quaid and Liam to go. The pair of them, one dark, the other strawberry blonde, gently escorted Beth and Simon away. I watched them go, adoring them both for just doing what I needed them to do and not asking questions.
I guessed I'd keep them.
That left Mom and I alone in the place. The gravediggers had placed a tarp of fake grass over the hole her coffin sat in. I sighed deeply and left Mom behind as I slowly approached, folding my legs beneath me to sit on the real grass next to the echo that was my friend.
Alison had come back at last, though I could tell from her expression she wished she hadn't.
"This is it then?" Her shade tossed her hair back, met my eyes with a fake smile. "The sad and tragic ending of Alison Marie Morgan, gone so young, she'll be missed."
I didn't blame her for feeling bitter. "I'm sorry, Al." There wasn't much else to say.
Mom slowly approached. "Alison, dear," she said.
"Hi, Miriam." Alison waved a little. "I'm not supposed to be here, am I?"
Mom smiled gently. "We can help you, if you wish."
Alison looked back and forth between us a moment. "Who are you? I mean, really?" She hugged herself, leaning away from me. "I knew you were odd, you know? When I was alive. But now... how come you can see me and no one else can?"
"It's a long story," I said. "I'm just happy I can."
She smiled, but it was brittle and didn't last long.
"I'm afraid." She shuddered. "I don't want to go yet."
Mom sighed softly. "You can't be here, dear," she said. "This is no way for you to exist."
Alison turned her face away from my mother, her eyes locking on my chest. I'd forgotten all about the marble holding the vampire virus at bay. I'd managed to reinforce the shields around it once I had control of half of the family magic and it had fallen dormant. Or seemed to. But Alison hadn't forgotten, at least not from the hungry look on her face.
Before I could stop her she surged toward me, passing through me, purposely pulling at the power in the gem. I felt it stir, feed her, so when she finally emerged behind me she glowed softly white.
I turned toward her, shocked and more than a little worried. "Al-"
She jerked away from me, looking even more substantial than she had before. The virus. A power source to feed her.
Oh crap.
"I'm staying now." She laughed, a little hysterical. "I can still be your bestie. And you can't stop me."
Mom's magic reached for Alison, but the echo of my friend dodged her with a terrible giggle and vanished.
***
