ELEVEN

I WAS SO STUNNED I could hardly form the words. “I’ve seen you, in pictures.”

“Yes. It’s me, Owen.”

My father.

He stood. “You have no idea how grateful I am to be given this time with you.” Then he walked toward my front door, his image blurring and fading like night steadily giving way to dawn. I sat staring after him in awe.

Then I closed my eyes. “Thank you, God.”

I said it over and over.

I woke that afternoon, a Wednesday, to Daisy’s whines and her wet nose nudging my arm. Her bladder was probably about to explode. I’d been so in shock over the identity of my mysterious visitor that I’d forgotten to take her out before I fell asleep.

As I stood in the grass, getting soaked by a springtime shower while I waited on my dog to do her business, I texted Ray Anne: Please accept my apology and I have something INCREDIBLE to tell you!!!

I was so elated about last night’s encounter, I feared it was too good to be true. Just a dream, maybe. But when my wet dog and I returned to my apartment, my candle was right where I’d set it when the wick went out. That was enough tangible proof for me.

I had to wait another hour before Ray Anne got out of class and I could tell her the awesome news. I knew she’d have a new attitude about the spirit man when she found out who he was. And hopefully she wouldn’t hold yesterday’s harsh words against me much longer. She’d always been fast to forgive.

I was too amped up to do anything productive. I kept replaying pieces of last night’s conversation, rehearsing my father’s wise words and sympathetic advice. He hadn’t said he’d be coming back, but surely he would. Maybe he was somehow looking down on me right at that moment. The thought no longer scared me.

I was standing at my living room window, watching the downpour, when I had a radical idea. Was there a way to call my dad?

I knew that passage in Deuteronomy warned against consulting the dead, but that clearly didn’t apply in this situation. My father had come to me, on assignment from God. I thanked the Lord again for sending him.

I knew if I called on my father and he showed up, he’d knock out the power, so I turned off all the lights and the TV to begin with. The soothing sound of rain made me sleepy all over again, but the chance of seeing my dad was all I needed to fight off exhaustion.

I sat in the same lounge chair as the night before. “Father . . . are you here?”

I waited.

“Please, come back.”

He didn’t leave me waiting long. He entered through the front door, passing through it like spiritual bodies do, and returned to his spot on the sofa. “The next time you seek me, light a candle. You’ve seen my face —I won’t extinguish the flame ever again.”

“Okay. Thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for inviting me.”

I lit my big three-wick candle and set it on the coffee table between us. I was still uneasy —this was all still so new —and I hated that he was bound to pick up on that. It felt rude.

Trying to cover my awkwardness, I asked about my mother, and he shared all kinds of things —how they’d met, what he’d liked about her, how he could barely eat or function after she’d walked out on him. For the life of me, I couldn’t picture her with him —I guess because I’d never seen her with a good man.

“I didn’t know I had a son until I crossed over,” he said. “Nor that, to this day, your mother still loves me.”

“How can you tell?”

“I feel what’s in her heart.” His smile looked like mine. “She still has the wedding ring I gave her. It’s in a green box on the top shelf of her closet.”

I wasn’t surprised my mother had never told me about the ring. She was a vault of secrets.

Our conversation flowed effortlessly into the night. At one point, my dad congratulated me for having been such a strong athlete in high school, something I’d longed to hear from my father my entire life. But as much as I just wanted to sit and talk to him like a normal father and son, I had to make the most of having him here, with his wealth of supernatural information.

“Have you heard of Molek, the Lord of the Dead who claims this town as his territory?”

“Of course. He’s known throughout the universe and by all in the vast expanses of the spirit realm.”

“Did he name himself after that man-made idol in the Bible? The one people sacrificed children to?”

“No, Son. That detestable idol was named after him. He was there, receiving those sacrifices as offerings to himself.”

The realization twisted my stomach into knots. “Do you know where he is right now?”

My father tilted his head back, as if he were pulling information from a database in the air. “He’s patrolling another region for now, a mountainous area.” He kept concentrating. “You know it as Colorado.”

“What can Ray Anne and I do to stop him from coming back —to rid this town of him and his army for good?”

My dad sighed and shook his head. “How can you and Ray Anne conquer any foe —much less a force like Molek and his legion —if the two of you are divided?”

I felt heat creep up my neck as I remembered the way I’d spoken to Ray the night before. “I know I was harsh, but believe me, I’m going to keep apologizing to her, and I know we’ll get back on track soon.”

“I’m concerned that she’s going to hurt you.”

I shifted in my chair. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve made such sacrifices for her, suppressing your desires and conforming to her restrictive way of life. And yet, Owen, there’s someone else she fantasizes about, envisions herself marrying.”

It was like he’d buried an ax in my heart. “I don’t understand. Who?”

“I’m sure it will be obvious to you very soon. Just be careful.”

I stood. “You said you’d withhold nothing. What’s his name?”

He formed that gentle, calming smile that was becoming familiar. “I’m not here to disrupt the natural course of your life, Son. Only to guide you as it unfolds, as long as you desire.”

I lowered myself back into my chair, stunned, Ray Anne’s betrayal throbbing like an open wound in my chest.

I wasn’t afraid of my father —not really —but when he rose and walked toward me, I couldn’t keep myself from tensing up. He stopped an arm’s length away. “May I come closer?”

I liked that he respected me enough to ask for my consent. I said yes, of course. He approached my chair and leaned over me.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “Rest.” He held his palm above my forehead, and a menthol-like chill washed over my face, like I’d smeared VapoRub on my skin. I became tingly all over and wonderfully sleepy. “Remember what the wise proverb says, Owen. ‘If you faint in the day of adversity, your faith is small.’”

I tried to nod, but my head felt too heavy. My eyelids collapsed.

I was completely disoriented when I woke. I didn’t even know what day it was. My cell wouldn’t power on. The power losses had somehow fried the battery.

It seemed like it should have still been dark outside, maybe early morning. But when I powered up my laptop, I saw that it was Thursday afternoon, and I was already late for my tutorial session. I hurried to get showered.

I was rushing down the stairwell outside my apartment when Ray Anne pulled up and exited her car without turning off the engine or closing the door. “Where have you been?” She hugged me tight. “My calls have gone straight to voice mail since yesterday —I’ve been so worried about you.”

I put my arms around her, but it felt kind of weird, after what my father had shared. Still, I explained that I needed a new cell battery, then apologized again for the way I’d treated her the other night.

She squeezed my hands and stared up at me. “I can’t stand it when we’re mad at each other.”

I hugged her again, but it only made my heart ache. “Ray Anne . . .” I started to ask her about the guy but decided to hold off on confronting her until I figured out who it was. I’d never seen her flirt with anyone but me.

“So what’s the incredible thing you texted me about?” She was all smiles, our falling-out a thing of the past.

I was in danger of completely missing my tutorial by this point but too excited to put off telling her. “Ray Anne, you’re never gonna guess who the man is —the one who appeared to me.”

She crossed her arms and frowned. “He came back?”

“Yes, but it’s not what you think. It’s way cooler than you could imagine!” I couldn’t have forced the grin off my face if I’d tried. “It’s my father, Ray!”

At first she just stared at me silently, but that didn’t last long. She started lecturing me again like she had the other night, this time using words like danger, forbidden, and —the real biggie —abomination. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The more I tried to reason with her, the more spastic she got.

“But he can help us, Ray. He knows so much.”

I tried to talk some sense into her, but all she did was insist I find a way to stop the visitations immediately and promise her I’d never interact with my father again.

Why couldn’t she just be happy for me? Trust me to navigate the situation and determine what was right and wrong for myself?

After a few minutes of going back and forth but getting nowhere, I finally caved and promised to cut things off with my dad —as if I had a clue how to stop him from appearing whenever he wanted. That was enough for her to calm down and hug me again. I sighed with relief.

But I could hardly wait to call on my father again.

Ray and I weren’t hitting on all cylinders, and for the first time, it felt like we were starting to drift apart. Like each of us had secret interests that excluded the other.

I hated it —but I had no idea how to fix it.

I rushed into Ms. Barnett’s classroom twenty minutes late, figuring Hector and Riley would be long gone. Shockingly, they’d stayed. Riley sat at a lab table smacking her gum with her back to Hector. I asked them to fill me in on what they’d done in class, but no surprise, neither had paid attention.

Riley had no color in her cheeks and kept putting her hand over her mouth. Sick from her pregnancy, if I had to guess.

As I was reviewing how the periodic table works for the millionth time, I noticed Hector pulling something partway out of his pocket, rubbing his thumb over it, then concealing it again. A minute later, when he reached for his cell, an object fell out and hit the floor —some kind of light-purple crystal trinket thing. Hector picked it up fast and shoved it back in his jeans.

“Careful! You don’t want to lose your precious vocatus,” Riley taunted him.

He shoved his face in hers. “Shut up.”

I held my hand between them. “Hey, chill out, guys.”

Hector glared at me but finally sat back, away from Riley.

“What’s a vocatus?” I recognized it as Latin, but I couldn’t recall the meaning.

He crossed his arms and smirked, looking me up and down. “Ain’t none of your business.” That’s the PG version.

“Oh, come on, Hector. Tell him where you got it.” Riley leaned toward me, then spoke in a loud, dramatic whisper. “That older girl he likes gave it to him, so it’s super special.” Hector stared her down, jaw clenched, popping one knuckle at a time.

She huffed. “What? You think I’m scared of you?”

“You oughta be.” Hector was a skinny guy, not exactly threatening. But there was something in his eyes . . .

I knew evil when I saw it.

“Riley —”

I wanted to tell her to chill, but she got up in his face. “You can’t do anything to me.”

I stood, expecting to have to keep Hector from shoving her. But this time he stayed planted in his chair, his expression more matter-of-fact than irate. “Girl, you’re gonna regret every word you just said.”

“Is that a threat?” she asked.

“More like a curse.”

And that’s when I learned that a curse is a real thing. As in, alive.