Under the Light - By Laura Whitcomb Page 0,44
Jenny simply stared, but I dropped to the boards and wept.
The material was wrinkled, yet even in the low light it remembered the shape of two bodies.
CHAPTER 18
Jenny
IS THAT WHAT I THINK IT IS?” asked Billy.
It was like we’d found an animal’s den but the imprints left there were in the shape of two humans.
“How did you know this loft was here?” I asked him.
“Last year in carpentry we built a set for one of the plays.”
Ever since Saturday night I had been almost remembering a dream I had about a boy who liked me—it was right on the edge of my brain. Every time I thought about it, I got that kind of joy rush like when I was little and woke up remembering we were leaving on vacation after breakfast. But it was also like the wave of nerves I got when I woke up remembering I had to give an oral report in history class that day. It wasn’t the first time I’d dreamed I fell in love, but this dream was different.
In church the day before I thought I might have dreamed of a real boy, but one from the past. He might have been the spirit trying to make contact with me. I didn’t want him to be dead or imaginary.
But now I was changing my idea about who had sent me messages in the pages of the Bible and about where that vision of a flood came from. Two spirits had been visiting my life, apparently, during my lost days, one in my body and one in Billy’s. She was called Helen and I was starting to believe she was the one who guided my finger over the verses of Scripture.
I lay down on the cloth—Billy did the same, lying with his arm pressed to mine. We stared up into the jungle of ropes, lights, and electrical cords that hung above us, shifting almost imperceptibly in the blackness.
“I think Helen was trying to talk to me,” I said. And I thought, When she lay here with Billy’s body, this is what she saw when she looked up.
“How do you know it wasn’t the male ghost?” Billy asked. “He was the one who fell in love with her in your body. Maybe he can’t let go of you.”
You would think this would be the answer—I dreamed of a ghost boy because Helen was in love with him and when he held her, the lips he kissed and the body he lay with was mine. You’d think I’d jump at the idea of my dream being a leftover memory of Helen’s. But it didn’t feel right at all.
The boy I dreamed about was on another planet, light-years away.
A voice from the stage below us made me jump. “Are these the only two things we have to paint?”
I grabbed Billy’s hand.
“I think there’s a table in the shop we’re supposed to do, too,” came another voice from twenty feet below us. “Or maybe a little desk.”
I could hear the clink of a bucket handle, the shuffle of feet; I could smell paint.
Billy squeezed my hand.
“This can is half empty,” said one boy.
“It’s water-based, I think,” said the other boy. “Maybe we could thin it out.”
“We should go,” I whispered to Billy, but he shushed me. A little too loudly.
“Shit!” said one of the boys below. “Did you hear that?”
I held my breath, frightened. Of what—being sent to the principal’s office? Billy stifled a laugh.
“Hear what?” whispered the other boy. Then they both listened for a few moments while Billy and I stayed pressed together, trying to be still.
“This place is haunted,” said the first boy.
“Really?”
“There’s supposed to be a cold spot on stage.”
“Weird.” The second boy sniffed. “Hey, ghosts, don’t bother us and we won’t bother you.”
Billy watched me, studying my face and throat, then held up a hand that said, Don’t worry, Miss, I’ll take care of this. He let out a long, low groan, just soft enough to be believable.
“Holy shit!”
Billy grinned as we heard paintbrushes clack to the floor and footsteps running away.
After a moment of silence, we climbed down. He took my hand as I stepped off the last rung—something about his treating me like a lady gave me a sudden jolt of pleasure. Here was a cute boy who liked me, and we had a secret story together—something no one else would ever guess at or understand. I knew my parents wouldn’t let me date him, but he was my boyfriend anyway,