Standing, I tugged the wrinkles out of my skirt, hoping the day was going to be as warm as the skies predicted. Holding the camera in front of me, I found a martial arts pose, then shifted my hand until I was in the viewfinder, reflected in the mirror above my dresser. Annoyed, I set the camera down. My bed would be in the picture, and it was still a carefully contrived mess.
Tidying it was easy, and I put the vampire teddy bear Wendy had given me in the place of honor between the lacy pillows my dad had thought I'd like. The room was nothing like the dark cave at my mom's house. The white dresser decorated with rosebuds didn't do it for me. Neither did the antique-looking comforter or the slew of lacy pillows that I threw off the bed every night to convince my dad that I was sleeping. The pale rose color of the walls was comforting, though, going well with the cream carpet. It was painfully obvious that my dad had forgotten I wasn't six anymore and had filled the room with frilly pink-and-white girl stuff I'd shunned for years.
My fingers that were arranging the pillows slowed as I realized my room was almost identical to my room before we had left. Sort of like the kitchen and the living room, all carrying whispers of my mother. He wasn't letting go, either.
My mood going introspective, I picked up the camera. It had hurt not seeing Wendy every day. We'd known each other since fifth grade, and she was probably the reason I'd never made it completely into the popular crowd, now that I thought about it. She was more oddball than me, but I'd refused to ditch her when I'd finally been invited in, trying to bring her along with me instead. Wendy had quietly stood by me with her environmentally conscious lunch tote and her political music blaring, knowing I was making a mistake but confident enough in herself to wait for me to realize it. Expecting to find another friend like her amid the Amys and Lens looked really slim. Josh, though, was turning out to be cool.
The shutter clicked, and I dropped my arm and my smile both. I plugged the camera into my laptop. At least that had come with me from my mom's and it was suitably dark and broody. The background was of my favorite alternative band. Wendy had introduced me to them, but to be honest, I liked the aggressive noise more than the message behind it.
Immediately the picture uploaded, and I opened it to check out the resolution.
My skin still retained its beach tan, which was weird, but I chalked it up to my not having a real body. The purple tips of my hair were starting to fade, though. It hadn't grown at all since I died, and I wondered if I was going to look like this forever. My eyes went to my small chest, and I sighed. Not good. So not good. But then I looked closer at the picture, frowning.
"Oh, crap," I whispered, alarm icing through me. I could see my bed behind me. I mean, I could see through me to my bed. Scared, I looked at my hands. They looked solid to me, but the picture said different.
"Oh, crap..." I stood in front of the mirror, fear making the memory of my heart pound. I looked okay there, too, but when I picked up my camera and looked at myself through the lens...
"Oh, crap!" I said a third time. It wasn't obvious, but there was a hint of shadow where the bed was, and even a shape of pillows.
This was so not what I needed. Josh was ready to knock on my door to carry me off to battle the evil reaper master and steal his amulet. I didn't have time to be substance challenged. Worried, I gripped my amulet and loosened my focus, trying to jump into that misty state I'd been in yesterday to check things out. Maybe I'd broken too many threads when I'd practiced going invisible? Maybe I'd begun an unraveling that I couldn't fix? Grace had told me not to do it. But I'd never know if I didn't stop shaking!
My time spent with Barnabas on my roof learning to relax paid off, and slowly my pulse vanished. My teeth unclenched, and I found in my thoughts the hazy imagination of my life thread and the lacy spider-silk net joining it to the cosmos. Immediately the knot in my gut relaxed. The threads of connection were obvious, tying me to the present as the future slipped into the now. My thoughts were throwing out new threads as fast as the sun ticked across the sky, pulling me along with the rest of the world. I hadn't broken anything.
"Then why can I see through myself?" I whispered. Panic subsiding to concern, I pulled up my picture of my shoes on my laptop. I'd been in them at the time I'd taken the photo. Squinting, I looked again, but the little I could see of my ankles seemed normal. Relieved, I dumped both pictures into the trash and emptied it. Wendy would have to do without. No way was I ever going to let anyone take another picture of me.
The sound of a vehicle coming up the quiet residential street made me lean out the window. A smile grew when I saw Josh's old blue pickup. He was here. Finally.
Scrambling, I unplugged my camera, grabbed my wallet, slapped my back pocket to make sure I had my phone, and started into the hall. Please, please, please don't let my dad know I've been out this morning. This could all come to a nasty, screeching halt really fast.
"Madison?" my dad's voice echoed faintly. "Josh is here!"
He sounded unbothered, and I exhaled. "Be right there!" I called as I flounced down the stairs in relief. My dad waited at the bottom beside the front door, looking casual in jeans and a lightweight shirt, smiling. I'd done it again, but just.
"Don't forget the printer," he said, handing me a small camera case. "I put extra paper and ink in there," he said as I looped the strap over my shoulder, feeling guilty. "Enough to take as many pictures as you want."
"Jeez, Dad," I said as I looked inside. "How many pictures do you think people are going to want?" I wasn't even going to be there. How was I going to explain not using any of this? But I had to confront Kairos now, disapproving Grace or not. If she really thought I was in danger, then she ought to go get Ron.
"I know you," my dad said. "When you get behind a camera, you can't help yourself. Consider it my contribution. It's tax deductible!" he said, his smile turning into a wide grin that made his long face seem to light up. "And I like your pictures," he said, giving me a hug good-bye. "Everyone else will too. You look nice today. You were right. Purple is your color." His expression went thoughtful, and he looked out at Josh's truck. "You and Barnabas aren't having trouble, are you?"
I jerked to a stop. Oh, yeah. "Dad, I told you Barnabas and I are just friends."
"He hangs around an awful lot for being just a friend," my dad warned.
"Just a friend," I said firmly. "And he knows it. I'm only spending the day with Josh. It's not a big deal. If we're lucky, Barnabas will show up, and we can do the fair together."