“We get what’s given to us, in terms of houses and cars and clothes. Sometimes it’s a Jetta, sometimes it’s an apartment in a back alley, and sometimes it’s Gucci. If we need an ID, that’s available to us too. They can come in handy.”
I remembered what he’d been wearing when I first saw him, in the cemetery after the bridge dedication. “You were given a mishmash of clothes this time, huh? You have this Goth meets prep meets skater boy vibe going on. Kind of weird. And the khakis? Not a good look.”
“Most of the clothes are already there waiting for us, wherever we’re staying. But Cacey loves to go shopping, and she drags me with her.” Now he looked a bit embarrassed. “Sometimes it takes a while to figure out what century we’re in.”
“You guys need a built-in stylist-for-a-day when you get your assignments,” I said. “That would solve everything. Oh, and a hairdresser, too.”
Uri laughed again and touched his hair. It was longer than it had been in the cemetery. Instead of a fauxhawk he had mini dreads. “I think I’m a pretty good hairdresser.”
I cocked my head. “Maybe for a boy.” He smiled. “Do the other Revenants dye their hair?” I asked. “Sophie’s always looks like it’s not quite done right. Like she’s a natural blonde and the red can’t cover all of it up. And you all have eyes that are completely clear.”
“Our coloring is the same because in the white space there’s no pigmentation. That’s why we all have pale eyes, pale hair, and pale skin. When we come to Earth, we can wear contacts, get a tan, and, yes, dye our hair. It’s the only chance we have to live like mortals. Cacey likes to take full advantage. That’s why she likes Coca-Cola so much.”
“How long do you generally get to live like mortals? Before your assignment is up?”
“It varies.”
“Like …? Two days? Two years? Two months? What?”
“It just … varies.” His mouth tightened around the edges.
That’s all you’re going to get from him on that, Abbey. Move on. “The superpowers must be kind of cool,” I said instead.
“Superpowers?”
“Yeah, the mind-mojo thing.”
“It’s not really a power. More like the ‘power of persuasion.’”
“So, you can persuade people to do things? Still cool.”
“Not actually things-like barking like a dog, or pretending to be a chicken. We persuade them to go along with what we’re saying. Or to forget that they saw us.”
“I gotta say, that’s pretty freaking sweet.”
He smiled. “It definitely helps.”
“When I first met you guys, I was really creeped-out,” I said. “And then all of a sudden everything was fine. Was that the persuasion thingy?”
“That was it. It’s like a calming agent.”
“I totally need to get my hands on something like that. I have a couple of teachers at school who need to be ‘persuaded’ to forget about my homework.” I grinned at him.
“Sometimes people experience a funny taste or smell when we use the persuasion on them,” he said. “I’m not sure why.”
“Yes! Burning leaves? Or burned toast?” He nodded. “Around you and Cacey I could smell it, but around Kame and Sophie I could taste it.”
“I don’t know what it is precisely, but I think it has to do with neurons misfiring. Like a short fuse.”
“It doesn’t really happen anymore,” I mused. “Huh. I just realized that. And, you know, I don’t get that creepy feeling either.”
Uri looked away from me then, and stared at the window. He was probably getting tired of all my questions. But I needed a couple more answered. “Since I’m Caspian’s other half, I’m the only person who can see him, right? I mean, living person? I always thought that but wasn’t sure.”
“Yes. Since you’re the other half of him, there aren’t any other pieces left for other people to see. He’s the shadow that only you can see.”
“I never thought about it that way. That’s kind of weirdly lovely.”
“I think so too.”
“What about touch? Nikolas and Katy can touch Caspian, and so can you. How come I can’t touch him?”
“Because you are the only one who is alive.”
He said it kind of sadly.
“Oh.”
“I really can’t say any more, Abbey.” He stood up from the chair and walked over to the window. “Will you stay here for a minute while I go check in with the nurse again?”
I wanted to tell him no. That I couldn’t stay in this creepy place all alone, but I didn’t want him to think I was scared. It was just a room. I could totally sit here by myself in a room. “Yeah. Sure. Take your time. I’ll wait here.”
He moved to the door.
“Just don’t forget to come back and get me,” I called out.
“I couldn’t forget you,” he said with a cheeky grin. “Cacey would have my head.”
“That’s true. She would!”
But he was already gone. I had no idea if he’d heard me.
I sat there for a while, trying not to think about people creeping around out in the hallways and waiting to poke their heads in at any minute and yell “Boo!” I kept myself busy by reciting president names and then humming Christmas carols until finally I couldn’t take it any longer.
Hesitantly I got up from the chair and peeked outside the door.
No patients in sight. And no weird nurses, either. I walked quickly down the hall, trying to remember my way back to the front desk.
I rounded the corner and then passed the empty nurses’ station. That means closed rooms are next, and then open rooms before I hit the front desk.
Inhaling deeply, I tried to keep count of how many closed doors I passed. But the last door was open.
My feet automatically slowed, even though my brain was saying, Hurry, hurry!
I couldn’t help it.
I looked in.
A flat bed on wheels was sitting in the middle of the room, completely empty. Heavy-duty straps were hanging down on all four sides, clearly meant to be used as physical restraints. Words were stamped on the straps, and I moved closer to see what they said. Half-faded ink read MENTAL HEALTH INSTITUTE FOR THE CRIMINALLY INSANE.
I took a step back. I needed to get out of this room. The air didn’t feel right. It was stuffy. Where was the door? The walls were closing in. I couldn’t breathe, and-
“Hi.”
I spun around. The voice had come from behind me. It was high pitched and childish.
A girl was standing there, in a long nightgown that appeared to have once been frilly and white but was now stained and tattered. Shreds of lace wavered in little clumps around the edges of her wrists. A teddy bear with rubbed-away fur and only one eye hung from her hand.
I tried frantically to remember the “official warning,” but all that kept coming to mind was, Stick. Don’t poke. Be nice.
“Hi,” I said eventually, moving slowly so that I was closer to the door. “How are you?”
She looked like she was my age, yet her voice was definitely that of a little girl. She took a sudden step toward me, and my heart sped up. “I lost my friend,” she said sadly. “She died.”
Oh. Wow. That was unexpected. I could feel my face softening. “You did? I did too.”
She held up her teddy bear. “This is my friend now.”
“Good. That’s good.” I didn’t know if I should keep moving to the door or keep talking. Which one was the least likely to upset her?
“You’re special,” she said, moving toward me again and putting out one hand. “Pretty color.”
She could see my color? Was she like Caspian? Or like me?
Suddenly the most horrific thought crossed my mind. She’s dead. I’m seeing someone else who’s dead, and they’re going to lock me away in here. Or maybe I’m already in here. Strapped to a bed. How can I tell what’s real and what’s not real? How can I ever …