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IT'S FOUR O'CLOCK IN the morning in the great state of Washington. Jophiel summoned me at this odd hour so we could sit with my grandmother for awhile. She's been moved to the hospice wing of the hospital, and by the looks of it, she's not going to be here for long.
I wish Haniel was here. She's probably busy, but the last time she came with me, her company was a comfort. Jophiel's been nicer than I ever expected him to be. He's probably busy too, but he's been sitting with me for over an hour.
When he asks, “Are you alright?” I assume he can see the tears in my eyes.
“Yeah, I'm fine,” I lie. “We'll be reunited soon, right? It doesn't make sense for me to be sad.”
“No, I totally understand. When someone you love is suffering, it's always sad, even when you know what's on the other side.”
“Do you think she's suffering?” I ask.
“Well... dying certainly doesn't feel good, no matter how many drugs you take to quell the pain. I don't sense a great deal of discomfort, however, so that's good.”
Jophiel turns a page in the magazine he's reading. I can't see the cover, but after everything I've read and heard about him, I wouldn't be surprised if it was a “naughty magazine.” That's what Grandma always called them because she didn't like the word “porn.”
Sometimes, I forget he can hear my thoughts.
“I'm not reading porn!” Jophiel snaps the magazine shut and shows me its cover. It's a science magazine. “Perhaps you shouldn't believe everything you hear and read, Pho. By now, you should know me well enough that you don't think I'm a complete and total arse.”
“A science magazine, though?” I exaggerate a raised eyebrow. “That's the last thing I expected you to read.” It seems like something I would read.
“I like to read up on the humans' progress,” Jophiel says. “Perhaps you and I have more in common than you realize?”
I turn back to Grandma and watch her chest, barely rising and falling with each tiny breath. She looks paler than usual, and her lips are dry, even though the nurses keep trying to dab them with a wet swab to keep them moist.
“So, your grandmother... she was like a mother to you?” Jophiel asks.
“Yeah, you could say that. My real mom didn't want to have anything to do with me. You saw her the other day.”
“If you were close, this must be difficult for you.” Jophiel sets aside his magazine and leans forward in his chair. “Is there anything you'd like me to get for you? An apple slushie or... anything?”
If he's asking me if I need anything, he must know I haven't made much progress with my manifestations. I feel like I should have mastered the skill by now, but I'm not even close. Earlier today, I tried to manifest a green shirt, but for some reason, I ended up with a hundred dollar bill in my hand instead. That might've been useful in the old world, but money is pretty much useless now.
I never got my green shirt.
One day, I'd like to earn Jophiel's respect, but I think I've got a lot of work to do if I'm ever going to get there. To him, I'm just a sad little kid who can't talk to women or perform the simplest tasks.
I'm not too proud to accept a slushie when it's offered. Apple seems like an odd choice of flavor, but it's a good one. It's just the right amount of sour that the first sip makes me grimace.
As my straw swirls through flavored ice, I observe, “So... you like Anna.”
“As do you, I'm sure. She seems like a sweet girl.”
“No, I mean you really like her. She makes you nervous. I don't think a lot of girls would have that effect on you.”
His eyes narrow until the blue in them is barely visible. “Have you been reading my thoughts again, Pho? Because if you have, I'll have to—”
Jophiel's threat is unfinished because Grandma Lori just passed away. She's standing over her dead body, looking as confused as we all do when we die.
I rise from my chair and say, “Hey, Grandma.”
I expected her to be excited to see me, but I didn't expect her to be a blubbering mess. A noisy sob explodes from her throat as she races toward me, arms extended. I don't think I've ever seen my grandma run this fast before.
“Chris!” she wails, combing her fingers through my hair. It's a little embarrassing, but I'm so happy to see her again, I can't stop smiling. “Oh, sweetheart, it's so good to see you. Are you okay? Are you sick? Wait... is this a dream? Who's this?” She jabs a thumb at Jophiel, who's watching us with an unreadable smirk.
It's just like my grandma to ask a dozen questions at once. I decide to answer the one that seems most pressing, “This isn't a dream, Grandma. You died. We both did.”
“Ohhh.” Understanding eases some of the lines on her face. “That explains why my body's over there, I suppose. Ooo. That's kind of spooky.”
Stepping out of my grandma's cuddles, I tell her, “This is Jophiel. He's my teacher in the afterlife.”
“Oh, he's handsome!” Grandma cries, adding to my embarrassment. “I don't think I've ever seen a handsomer man in all my life. Can he be my teacher too? What's he teach?”
Jophiel speaks up, saving me from Grandma's latest barrage of questions. “I'm teaching him how to be a spirit guide, ma'am. Unfortunately, I'm only allowed to have one student at a time... but if that wasn't the rule, I would love to work with you too.”
When Jophiel kisses the back of my grandma's hand, my nose shrivels up. He's such a womanizer, he's even trying his magic on Grandma Lori.
And she's falling for it. “Oh, wow. He's charming too!” she cries.
“Jophiel is a smooth talker. If I were you, I wouldn't believe half of what he says,” I warn her. “Anyway, Grandma, we're here to take you Home.”
“Oh, good!” Grandma exclaims. “Ever since I passed out in the kitchen, I've been worried about poor little Cuddleworth. Let's go home, honey.”
“No... not home home,” I correct her. “We're going Home... as in, heaven Home.”
“Ohhh, I see.” A solemn frown settles on her face. “The home of the dead.”
I stare at Jophiel, expecting him to correct her, but he doesn't. As I recall, Amber didn't like to refer to spirits as the dead.
“You'll be moving into the same apartment with Chris, my lady. Will that be alright?” Jophiel asks.
Grandma squeezes my arm, brings her lips to my ear, and whispers, “I like how he calls me my lady. He's so respectful.”
Respectful? I don't think she would say that if she was one of the nineteen-year-old girls he's hit on. I've heard the rumors, of course. The worst stories make him sound like a total ass who tricks women into sleeping with him. The best stories make him sound like a Casanova who makes all the ladies swoon. I'm not sure which stories to believe, or if I want to believe any of them. I'm trying to form my own opinion. I think he deserves that much.
“Well, my lady, are you ready to go Home?” Jophiel asks.
Grandma gives him an answer that has me shaking my head. “Honey, with you, I'd be ready to go anywhere.”
Oh, Grandma. What am I going to do with her?
Embarrassing as she is, it's nice to have her with me.