Chapter Twenty

Two weeks later, Tessa made them dinner at the compound. They arrived after sunset to her magic grounding bread, still warm and smelling of cinnamon and cloves, alongside vegetarian black bean burgers and home-cut sweet potato fries. A new donation had been given to the Crown, thanks to a local CEO realizing the buzzing he was hearing at night wasn’t a malfunctioning microphone, but his wife trying to contact him. She didn’t need to be transported, only to have her messages decoded. So while the CEO spent time in the barn sand pit with a translator, Tessa had spent the afternoon cashing his cheques and making their dinner so they were fed before the conjuring ritual.

“I know burger and fries are as common as dirt, but like you saw the first time here, the dirt can have hidden meaning messages.” She smiled as she went on to explain how she’d revamped the recipe from her family dinners, modernizing it extensively to first make it vegetarian, then vegan, while still ensuring the taste was as good as the original. Tessa wore purple, like she always did, but her dark hair became red under the light. A framed photo of a woman who looked like her, right down to the dimples in the cheeks, was framed on the back wall of the kitchen. She also had dark hair with highlights of red and a faint, knowing smile. Ethan only noticed the photo with the mention of Tessa’s mother, as if he needed the visual cue to finally give her a family history. The rest of the time, Tessa was a being without origination.

Jacob made all the right noises at the food. He was doubly impressed the meal was vegan but didn’t taste “like cardboard” and made sure to tell her as much. He regaled both of them with stories of his mother’s vegetarian cooking attempts, and her kosher and halal cuisine when she was ushered into her in-laws and other families’ households. Parts of Jacob’s life, like the yogurt in his fridge and the types of spices in his cupboards, along with the books of Rumi and Hafez on his bookshelves in his apartment made more sense to Ethan.

“I think my mother’s attempts at literally making her kitchen into a melting pot of cultures is why my dad always liked plain food,” Jacob said. “That way he never had to choose between cuisines or cultures. Either that or she killed all his taste buds with spices the first time out, and he never wanted to break her heart by telling her.”

When it came time to talk about the transfer, Tessa grew more serious and even slightly despondent. Jacob cleared the table of everything but the grounding bread and busied himself with coffee while Tessa produced the file.

“Vinod Chatterjee is your next traveller.” When she opened the front page, Ethan noted there was no photograph. Nor was there any other information on his whereabouts when he died or how he met his end.

“You’re missing the death certificate,” Ethan said. “Will that be an issue? All the others had one.”

“His death certificate is hard to verify right now. But he’s dead. Obviously so, since he’s visited us as a ghost.”

Ethan exchanged a look with Jacob as he sat back down at the table with all their drinks. While Tessa added milk to hers, Ethan barely touched the mug. He had a hard time forgetting about David’s hostile ghost past—but even David had a death certificate.

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Tessa said, her voice strong. “Sometimes the death certificate is hard to come by, especially in missing persons cases. We’ve done those kinds of transfers before and they’ve been fine.”

“Is he missing, then?”

Tessa nodded with a thin-lipped frown. “It’s such a sad story, really. He went missing almost a decade ago, and his body was never found. He’s legally dead in the eyes of the law, but his family has not been issued a death certificate yet. We don’t exactly know why, only that his immediate next of kin do not seem interested in having one. It’s sad. He disappeared, but no one noticed. Makes you think a lot about permanence.”

“Is that why’re you’re moving so quickly with this?” Jacob asked. He gestured to the file, noting how slim it was. “I’m sure I’ve seen receipts longer than this.”

“Almost ten years missing is hardly moving quickly,” Tessa said. “We’ve been speaking with him the past two months or so. He’s been a great help to us. We’ve managed to chart the new chakras now—the ones that mark the vessel and their meaning. Interesting stuff. Nothing we didn’t already figure out, but it was good to have his opinion, and it may get us a step closer to finding out why breaking the seal occurs.” Tessa opened a book with a worn purple dust jacket and slid out a dog-eared page. A body chart with rainbow marks ran up and down the spine, head, and feet. It was so similar to the red thread painting from the barn, except far more complicated and intricate. Ethan ran his fingers along the spine and felt his hair stand up on end.

“You think you can reverse breaking the seal?” he asked, not looking up.

“We don’t know. But we might be getting close.”

“Shouldn’t you interview him more?” Jacob asked.

“We have the drawing. We’ve tapped that resource. All we’d be doing is running in place to continue as we were. Besides, Vinod’s personal story checks out from what we did gather. We don’t always need a file that’s a tome. Sometimes death is a drop in a bucket.” She paused for a moment as she withdrew the few sheets of paper from the file. It appeared to be a newspaper article, worn with age. “Vinod Chatterjee, aged forty-seven, disappeared from a Toronto convenience store on Bathurst Street on March 20, 2008. Blood was found at the scene, but only a few drops. Anyone with information is encouraged to call Crime Stoppers.” She set the paper down, her gaze fixed on Jacob. “And no one did. We gather from him that he died that day, maybe another day afterward. He doesn’t know where his body ended up, but we know it’s in the States. Whoever came into that convenience store transported his body here, somewhere. And because of that, we’ve moved up his travel date.”

“Wait. Why?” Ethan asked. “Why does it matter that his body’s been moved?”

“Because it’s possible that someone might issue the death certificate in Canada and bury him there. It would be an empty casket, but that makes his ghostly energy disperse. It’s like a memory being pulled in two. Like the King Solomon story, you know? When people fight over a child, the child is torn. The same thing happens with ghosts and their memories. The other missing person case we did was so much harder because she was so faded. Her family buried an empty casket, and because the body was in water, we could barely reach her ghost.”

“I don’t remember that case,” Jacob said.

“Before your time.” Tessa waved a hand. “In the end, we could conjure the girl’s spirit and take down messages, but we couldn’t get her to travel. Another sad story that we’re determined to not let happen again. Vinod can travel. So he’s going, and we’re going to help him get there.”

“I know. I get that,” Jacob interjected. This time Tessa’s face belied her anger. Ethan sank into his chair, watching the two of them like a ping-pong match. “I have the most respect for everything you do, Tessa, you know that. But I’m still uncomfortable. Don’t violent deaths have violent motives? If this death was so violent we don’t even have a body—”

“I know it seems harder. But this is why we talk to our ghosts before granting their requests. He wants to see his sister again. Not a biological sister, but one through family in-laws. That’s who he wants to be reunited with, even if she didn’t do anything when he went missing.”

“That’s strange though.”

“Is it really, Jacob? The heart wants reconciliation. And we want people to go home. As we saw with Barry, a violent death doesn’t always lead to ruin. I think Vinod is a good candidate. I wouldn’t talk to you otherwise.”

Jacob’s brows were still furrowed. His frown, half marked by the wounds his ghost-brother gave to him, seemed deeper. “I still don’t know.”

“Well it’s a good thing it’s not your decision.” Tessa turned to Ethan. He still had the drawing of the new chakra points Vinod had help to craft through interviews in front of himself. The page inside his folder contained snippets of explanations about the sacred marks, pieces of his life he’d narrated to the members of the Crown, and his final location of an apartment building around the corner from where his sister-in-law was now living in downtown Toronto. It would be a long trek from the Crown compound to Toronto, almost six hours of driving, but it would be worthwhile. If what he’d contributed about the marks led to being able to heal a broken seal, he could keep working. He wouldn’t have to worry about his future. Not to mention he understood the feeling of being torn in two through other’s memories of your life; his identity as Ashley had disappeared, but he still felt a chill on the back of his neck whenever people used the name. It was an empty casket. He wanted to help Vinod get home, if it meant resolution of any kind.

“I think I’m okay,” Ethan said.

Jacob placed a hand on Ethan’s shoulder, heavy and comforting. “You sure? We can turn around, go back. You can always say no.”

“Can I though?” Ethan turned to Jacob, giving him a familiar look. “You know what I need. And this is my final payment. Then everything else is free choice.”

“You’re good at this,” Tessa said. “We’ve heard back from Dianne through the grapevine. She says she liked you a lot. Wishes you the best in your future with your family.”

“And Barry?” Ethan asked.

Tessa shook her head. “Nothing yet, but we’re sure he’s fine.”

“And I was fine taking him,” Ethan said to Jacob, but also to remind himself. “Even when Barry was too overwhelmed by sadness, I still hung on. I’m strong.”

“I know you are. But you don’t always have to be.”

Ethan tore his gaze away from Jacob. “Well, it seems Vinod wants to get back to his family, or at least, a familiar place. I can understand that. And it’s my body. So I can do what I want with it.”

Jacob chuckled bitterly. “Yeah, I know. You can do what you want, and I can still be nervous. So let me stay with you on the ride, okay?”

“You can if he says so. I think that’s the rule.”

Tessa agreed. “I’m good with that plan. I’ll get his object so we can start. To prepare you, it’s odd—but it’s also another reason we believed his story.”

When Tessa returned to the room, she held a piece of long, dark hair braided to a point, with a red band tied in a knot at both ends. Ethan thought it was fake hair until she placed it on the table. The frayed edges were worn down with split ends, wholly human.

“This is Vinod’s. It was cut off of him before he was killed. We looked into this aspect of the crime and found a handful of similar cases where store owners, especially minorities, were targeted and had their hair cut. No one was ever charged with the crimes. Vinod says none of that matters, as long as he can get home.”

Ethan swallowed. His throat was dry. He tried to sip some of the drink, but his stomach roiled. There had been a piece of hair in the locket for Dianne’s trek, but it was small. Innocuous. Carrying a thickly matted braid across the border was going to be different. Difficult.

“Do…do I have to wear this?”

“No, but keep it in your backpack. As long as the object is within a couple feet of you, it should be fine.”

“The ghost belt. Right. I pretty much need to have it on my person as we cross the water, but the rest of the time, it can be near me, yeah?”

“Yes. And be sure that the object is with you in the final destination.”

“Of course.” Ethan combed over the contract on the table, signing off as Tessa bundled up the hair in tissue paper. Jacob skimmed the contract alongside him, as if he’d never read it before and hadn’t written it himself, and then took forever to sign his name as the witness. He linked his hand with Ethan’s under the table.

“You sure?” he asked.

“Come on, Jacob. Just let me decide, okay?”

“Fine.” Jacob pressed his lips together tightly. All three rose from the table and got into sequence. As Ethan closed his eyes, he relished the feeling of his thoughts being open. Being vulnerable. It was better, more powerful, than being a bottom with Jacob. As Tessa chanted the Latin words with her coiled conjuring stick over his body, Ethan’s skin erupted into tingling. His body expanded and the chemistry changed as something else walked around inside his skin.

This was part of him now. Vinod Chatterjee was part of him now.

“Call me Vinny.” His Indian accent was thick, but comprehensible. He spoke as if he’d grown up in Canada, but around Hindi-speaking parents.

“Ding, ding,” Vinny said. “You are correct. I was born in Canada. In Mississauga, close to Toronto. I went back to India frequently, but I mostly stayed in the city. Thought I’d die there.”

“Sorry to hear about the circumstances.”

“You were a baby then. How could you have known? So let’s just get back there as soon as I can.”

“That I can definitely do.”

“Everything A-okay?” Jacob squeezed Ethan’s forearm, getting his attention in the waking world again. “Is it all right if I tag along?”

Ethan opened his mouth. He was about to say yes when a roll of pain went through him. He clutched his stomach.

“You all right?” Tessa asked. “Should I get you something? I’m afraid medication is a no-go now that you’re working as a vessel, but I can still make ginger tea or something similar.”

“I’m fine,” Ethan said. Vinod’s accent was buried in his own mouth, under his tongue like a cough drop. “I’m fine. I am. Just think I should drive now. It’s pretty long.”

“Alone,” Vinny said. “I’d like to be alone. So hard being around all those people, asking for my story over and over again. I think I want to be alone as I can be.”

Ethan glanced at Jacob. “I think I’m driving this one myself.”

“You sure? You can do that without crashing?”

“I did it with Dianne. I think we’ll be fine. Right?”

Vinny nodded and Ethan shuddered. Another roll of nausea went through him. Something bitter probed at the back of his throat. He wasn’t sure if it was his own slippery sickness, or if Vinny’s memories were mixing with sensations. He swore if he concentrated hard enough, the world became awash with bright colours, and he could speak in another language. The more he focused on it, though, the farther away it seemed to be.

Without prompting, Tessa left and returned with ginger tea in a travel mug. She insisted he drink most of it before topping it off again and allowing him to leave.

“You’ve been taking a lot of people,” she said. “There’s no shame in taking it slow.”

“And I can drive when we get to Canada,” Jacob said. “I don’t mind. Haven’t seen Toronto in a while.”

“No,” Vinny said. Ethan repeated it in the same starkly serious tone.

“No?” Jacob asked. “Not even in Canada?”

Ethan took a long sip of ginger tea. He blinked and tasted honey on his tongue, alongside lemon. He smelled spices; everything shimmered in gold. He blinked again and it was gone. “No. I think I can get to Toronto and drop Vinny off. Then I’ll call you, Jacob, for the ritual. Okay?”

“Vinny?” Jacob chuckled at the nickname. “Like My Cousin Vinny? My spirit Vinny? Well, all right, then. If you’re sure.”

“We’re sure.” Ethan sipped his tea again, tasting the same concoction as before. Something probed at his mind, stretching back inside like a deep memory under his skin. He drank more and more of the tea and thought of his mother’s face—but not his mother’s. Her skin was brown, her eyes blue—startlingly blue eyes—and she wore a red sari over her body. Later she wore white when her husband died.

“She went the next year,” Vinny said. “My father, my mother, my brother Ajay, and now me—all dead before age fifty. No one in my family lasts. As you now know, more or less.”

Ethan shuddered. It felt as if Vinny was searching inside his mind and implanting his own memories there. It was worse than the feeling of imprinting, worse than a bruise. It was like Vinny was kicking the tires of his new vehicle to see what kind of material made them.

“I see you, Ethan.” Vinny pronounced his name with hard consonants. “And you have an extraordinary story to tell yourself. I think I’d like to hear it.”

“I think I don’t have a choice,” Ethan murmured into his mug. He sipped the last drop of the tea. Tessa gave him more. In each blink as he waited, Ethan saw a new face he didn’t recognize, but desperately wanted to know.