The Guidance - By Marley Gibson Page 0,46
some sort, a Greek goddess come down from Olympus to defeat the bad guy; Wonder Woman in her stars and stripes and bulletproof bracelets and lasso of truth (man, what I wouldn't give for one of those). I'm all of these things, and yet I'm just me trying to stave off this aggression. I begin to say the Lord's Prayer, nearly begging the Holy Father for assistance against this spirit, whose intentions are quite clear. He tells me everything. He wants to be seen and heard and "make her pay." I don't know who "her" is, but I won't let him use me as a weapon against anyone. Red flashes before my eyes. Gold sparks tinge the air, like Fourth ofJuly sparklers. Except there's no celebration here. Just my will to survive and stake a claim to what is rightfully mine. There's nothing but ill will and malice attached to him, and I'll be damned—literally—if I'm going to let such a ghost inside of me. I scream bloody murder in my brain, hoping to jar this bastard loose.
And finally I lose it. All the fire and rage I've pent up comes spilling out over my lips. "Piss off, ghost! I'm not a Holiday Inn!"
Unexpectedly, a warming sensation coats me with comfort and clarity; it's a near peacefulness so serene that I almost think this menace has pushed me out of my body and I've gone to that happy place in the sky.
But no...
I'm with you, Kendall. I won't let him hurt you ...
Emily! Help me!
Focus on your breathing, Emily whispers.
It's like her arms are wrapped around me, loving and protecting me. A vortex of wind spirals around me. The roots of my hair stand at attention, and there's a relief of sorts that washes over me. Almost as quickly as it started—which was probably about five minutes ago in real time—my struggle for control of my body, soul, and sanity is over, and I break free with a whooooosh of energy that nearly lightning-bolts out the top of my head.
In desperate relief, I fall to the floor in a heap.
"Holy crap, Kendall! Are you okay?" Celia asks as she helps me up.
"Yeah. I'm gonna be fine." I try to catch my breath. "That was nasty! I-I-I've never felt anything like that ever before. Where did he come from?"
"No clue," she says. "Too bad we didn't have any camera equipment with us."
I rub my head. "Not exactly the time to bring the ghost bag along, you know?" I swallow against the aridness of my throat, choking on my memories of what just happened. "I need something to drink."
"Let's go back and find the guys," she suggests.
I grab her arm. "Don't tell Jason what we were up to. You know, we're supposed to be having fun and not investigating. He'll feel slighted, like it's not enough for me to just be with him."
"Clay kinda feels that way too."
We link pinkies and then break loose, silently swearing allegiance and loyalty to each other—how fifth grade of us.
As we walk back into the crowded ballroom and find our Batman and Watson, I hear Emily in my head whispering a warning.
Beware of tomfoolery ...
"By whom?"
"What?" Celia asks.
"Sorry, Emily was talking to me." I have no earthly clue what that's supposed to mean. I'll file it away in the back of my mind.
"Where have y'all been?" Clay asks, reaching for Celia's hand.
Celia covers. "Oh, you know. Bathroom. Girl chat."
"Are you sure you weren't ghost hunting?" Jason asks, flattening his lips.
Something he doesn't really understand is that investigating hauntings is sort of like being a doctor: you're on call all the time. Ghosts don't take vacations or sick days. But even though there's a creepy-ass spirit here who just tried to set up shop inside of me, that doesn't mean I can't enjoy dancing with my boyfriend. As long as I keep my eyes wide open for when that spirit decides to show himself again.
Jason pulls me onto the dance floor to slow groove to some Mariah Carey number. That's when I hear it. Plain as day. That same sinister laugh that I heard mocking me at Mrs. Lockhart's house. I'd never forget that sound.
It's the ghost from Mrs. Lockhart's carriage house.
And this time, he's here to play.
Chapter Twelve
"I'm not limboing" Jason says firmly.
I tug him into the middle of the ballroom, urging him to get into the horrible limbo rock Stephanie and Roachie have going using a Swiffer Sweeper as the bar. "Come on!"
Jason resists. "Do