Soul Insurance Read online

  "What makes you think I don't have fifty women lining up outside the apartment right now?"

  "Ryan said you were scared of women."

  He laughed again. If he ever saw Ryan again they would trade words. "I'm not scared of women. It's just not easy to have a long-term girlfriend when you've got a secret like mine to keep."

  "So? Then just have a bunch of short-term girlfriends."

  "You're alright, Brad. But I am gonna whip Ryan's ass for talking shit."

  "You're okay, too. I really appreciate the help. I'll get moving along. Don't be afraid to get out there. Life's over before you know it."

  Connor nodded as the soul slowly vanished. How right Brad was. Brooke visited his apartment on Saturday, trying to be friendly, and was dead Monday night.

  Ryan lectured Connor on the delicacy of life many times. Connor only got frustrated. He witnessed his mother's murder with his own eyes. He knew how fast life could change. But the words sounded different coming from a man in love with his wife, and not the wild animal Ryan was.

  Guilt settled in his chest as he poked at his food. He wanted to think he helped Brooke, but the truth was he pushed her away again, exactly like he'd done Saturday night. There was no reason the two of them couldn't be friends. He needed to get over his ridiculous fear of her.

  He quickly finished his dinner and left the apartment.

  *****

  Brooke crossed the parking lot and stopped outside her old apartment building. She'd wandered for most of the day, sad, alone, with no purpose. She couldn't talk to her best friend, couldn't console her. Even if she could, it was hard to make someone feel better when she felt terrible herself.

  She sat in the park earlier in the day and watched the souls around her, trying to do some of the things they did. A woman actually changed from jeans and a tank-top to a beautiful dress, right before her eyes. Brooke felt silly still wearing her nightgown, but as much as she tried to focus on other clothes, nothing happened. A man ran in the street, matching speed with a car, another thing she couldn't master. Souls flew all around her, but flight was out of the question.

  Her old building suddenly looked like a relic, forgotten by time. She wondered how her neighbors were doing. Were they living with relatives, staying in hotels? Despite their loss, Brooke couldn't help but think of how lucky they were. The fire had killed one person. Only one. It happened to be her.

  Yellow warning posters had been posted on the front door. She walked through them and made her way to the third floor, no longer afraid of falling through the stairs. She wasn't sure she'd care if she did.

  Her apartment wasn't any different than when she saw it the day before. Dusk was approaching, and everything had a different look with fading light. She stood on the ruined treadmill and ran in place for a moment, not moving the belt beneath her feet at all. A smile nearly touched her lips as she looked through their old music in the TV stand, but the smile died, and she wasn't sure when she'd smile again.

  She sat on the couch, reflecting on her short life, until she heard footsteps making their way up the stairs. Her guess was an old occupant, maybe even a homeless person. There was no way the fire inspectors or police worked at dusk.

  The door opened, and she turned her head in surprise. A figure stepped into the living room, masked by the shadows.

  "I'm not gonna let you rob my apartment."

  "Well, there goes my night."

  Brooke squinted, trying to make out his face. "Connor?"

  "That's me."

  "What are you doing here? How did you even know I was here?"

  "I didn't, but it was a good guess."

  She let out a sad laugh. "I'm that predictable? Amber used to always yell at me about that."

  "I wouldn't say that. You showed up at my apartment at eleven o'clock at night."

  "I was trying to prove to her…and me, I guess, that I could be wild and exciting. But then I had to knock on the door of the craziest person in town."

  "What can I say? It's part of my charm."

  She smiled. Not a minute ago she couldn't imagine smiling again. Connor seemed much more relaxed than before.

  "I thought the spirits followed you, not the other way around?"

  "You vanished this morning." He sat in the only dining room chair still standing. "I never even got the chance to say goodbye."

  "Connor, no offense, but I can tell you're not exactly comfortable around me. And I'm not saying I blame you. I'm not even gonna pretend I know what life for you was like. I'm grateful for all the advice, and letting me stay over, but I'm not gonna hang around and watch you be all jumpy. I figured it'd be easier if I just left."

  "I'm sorry for all of that. I definitely didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

  They were quiet a moment.

  "So, why did you follow me, anyway, back when I was alive?" She nearly choked on the last word.

  "What are you afraid of? What's your fear?"

  The question surprised her. "Heights."

  Connor laughed. She couldn't remember hearing him laugh before. It was a nice sound.

  "I guess there's not gonna be a lot of flying for you."

  "Are you kidding? I haven't even figured out how to change clothes."

  "You're still in a nightgown?"

  "Yup."

  Her cheeks flushed as Connor said nothing. She could see him fighting a smile, and was both amused and embarrassed.

  "Connor? You were saying?"

  "Oh, yeah. You're afraid of heights. Well, don't you get on a roller-coaster every now and then? Try to conquer that fear?"

  She stood up and tugged at her nightgown. She felt her legs, and was surprised at how smooth they were. Maybe there were certain small advantages to being a soul.

  "Roller-coasters. I can't say I have."

  "Really? Well, that's what I was trying to do. I wanted to see if I could get close to you without getting sick."

  Brooke leaned on her knees as she burst out laughing. She laughed for nearly half a minute, her eyes filling up with tears.

  "That might be the best pick-up line I've ever heard."

  It was Connor's turn to glow red. "That's not what I…I didn't mean…I just meant…."

  "It's okay. You have a way with words."

  "If you say so," he said, avoiding eye contact. He stood up and put his hands together. "Okay, clothes. Let's get that little problem solved. Follow me. I'll show you little trick a spirit told me about when she had trouble changing clothes."

  She tilted her head when Connor walked down the hall instead of toward the front door. "Where are you going?"

  "Just trust me."

  "The last time a guy said that he tried to reach up my dress in a movie theater."

  "I don't think you'll have that problem with me. Was it a good movie?"

  She giggled. Connor was a funny guy. She'd written him off as a crazy creep, but it seemed her first impression of him couldn't have been more wrong.

  He turned into her bedroom, and she hesitated a moment before following. He was rooting through her closet, struggling to see. Most of her clothes were burned and ruined.

  "Hang close," he said. "Your light helps."

  "I'm glad I can be useful."

  "I know there's not a lot of choice in here, but pick out something you like to wear."

  She rolled her eyes as she gave a cursory glance to her destroyed wardrobe. She directed his attention to a pair of cut-off jeans on the floor and a blouse dangling from a hanger. Connor picked them up and arranged them on the bed like a person was actually wearing them.

  "Okay, stare at that for a few seconds, and close your eyes. But keep the image of them in your head."

  "This is silly."

  "I'm telling you, it works. Just staring at pictures doesn't always work when you're first learning. You have to see the clothes up close."

  "This is the kind of crap you talk with spirits about?"

  "Oh, you wouldn't believe some of the things I've he
ard."

  "I don't think this is—"

  Brooke held her tongue as her skin tingled. She shivered for a moment, feeling goosebumps rip across her arms.

  "See?" Connor said. "Told you."

  She opened her eyes and looked down to see the nightgown was gone. The shorts stopped mid-thigh, and a pair of sandals were on her feet. Her blouse fit nicely on her frame. The cut-off jeans even had threads at the bottom that moved at her touch.

  "Holy shit." She left Connor behind and went into the bathroom. She saw herself in the mirror as she did other souls, slightly transparent with a glow. "I look…okay. I'm even wearing a bra."

  Connor stood out in the hall, a smile on his face. "Glad I could help."

  She turned from the mirror, taking note of Connor's adorable smile. It was a little too adorable.

  "What do you want, Connor?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Why are you helping me? Why are you even here?"

  He crossed his arms, frowning at the interrogation. "I've been told I don't have enough friends."

  "You want to be friends? You're not trying to get in my pants? I'm not exactly available for a date."

  "Well, I can't even see your pants, so that would be a hard trick."

  Brooke smiled. The truth was she liked Connor, despite their rocky start. He had a knack for making her laugh. She had no idea what her future held, if she even had one, but she could certainly do worse than having a cute living guy for a friend.

  "I can do friends, I think. But don't try to take advantage of me, and stare at my delicious ball of light."

  Connor laughed and shook his head. "I will try so hard to resist. I guess the same goes for you. Keep your pretty little soul hands to yourself."

  "Now you're asking too much, but I'll try. Is it okay if we get out of here?"

  "Sure. I'm starting to have trouble seeing up here."

  Brooke led the way for Connor. It was dark, but her own glow let her see a few feet in front of her. She wondered if she'd ever experience dark again.

  "So," she said as they rounded the stairs. "What do us dead people call the living? Fleshies?"

  "That sounds like some kind of sex toy. I think just the living. That's what I usually hear."

  "That's boring. I'll try to think of something funny."

  "You do that. Do you need a ride somewhere? Just don't make fun of my car. It has feelings."

  She didn't answer his question. She hovered near his car, staring at her old apartment. Memories of a lost life threatened to ruin her mood, which since Connor walked into the apartment was actually improving.

  Connor leaned on the hood. "Brooke? Are you okay?"

  "Yeah, yeah. I guess…I'm just saying goodbye to the place."

  He looked at her as they sat in the car. "Do you want to stay at my place?"

  "Ooh. Staying at a guy's house two nights in a row? The scandal."

  "Funny," he said, smiling. "If you'd rather hang out with other souls, there's that abandoned hotel on the other side of town. I've never actually been in, but I hear it's where all the spirits go."

  "Well, there is one place I'd like to go."

  *****

  Connor sighed loudly as he parked the Beetle across the street from the address Brooke gave him. He killed the engine and leaned back in his seat. He still had no idea how Brooke managed to talk him into what he was about to do. He'd delivered many messages for spirits, but somehow knew this message would end badly.

  "She was crying her eyes out when I saw her earlier today. So be careful with her."

  "You know she's not gonna believe me."

  "Of course she will. You have that honest face."

  "You didn't believe me when I told you I could hear souls."

  "Amber will. She's a trusting person."

  He smiled at her. Being a spirit was bringing out a new side of Brooke from the woman he met at his apartment. She still had that shyness, but with a bit of carefree attitude as well.

  "I don't know," he said. "What if I make things worse for her?"

  Brooke was quiet a moment. "I'm being buried tomorrow."

  He nodded, and wished he could do something to comfort her.

  "I need Amber to know I'm okay before the funeral. I just need to tell her everything will be fine."

  "You know, I used to actually make money from this. Just twenty dollars here and there."

  "Really?"

  "Yeah. There's nothing more awkward than trying to convince someone you have a message for them, and then getting money out of them."

  "Well, I'm hoping you'll do this free of charge, because I'm so cute and all."

  "How can I argue with that?"

  "And if cute isn't your thing, Amber's gorgeous, and I'm sure she still has the shakes for you."

  He nodded at Brooke, and took note of her tone. "Ah. You're jealous of Amber?"

  "Of course. I'm dead, and she's alive."

  "No. You think you're cute, but Amber's gorgeous?"

  "I…don't want to talk about it. Are we going or not?"

  Connor said nothing as he followed Brooke across the street and walked up the sidewalk of a nice house. He supposed it wouldn't have made a difference if he told Brooke he couldn't take his eyes off her when she was alive, and not just because of the soul she had.

  "I've got a million personal stories that only Amber knows about. She'll believe you, don't worry."

  A woman answered the door that Connor knew had to be Amber's mother. She looked Connor up and down before noticing Brooke slightly behind him.

  "Hi. Is Amber home?"

  "Yeah she is, but I don't think she's really up for company right now. Are you a friend of hers?"

  "We know each other, yeah. I won't stay long. I just needed to talk to her for five minutes."

  She thought it over, and stepped aside for Connor to enter. She nearly closed the door on Brooke, but held it open for her to pass.

  "Uh, do you know a soul is following you?"

  "Oh, yeah, that happens sometimes. I'm Connor, by the way."

  He shook her hand, and she seemed more at ease. She led him through the living room to a door in the hallway.

  "Wow. You've really got that female charm thing down, don't you?" Brooke said.

  Connor said nothing. Amber's mother opened the door and the sound of rock music blared from the basement.

  "So, you've heard about her friend Brooke?"

  He nodded grimly.

  "She was Amber's best friend," she said, a tear running down her cheek. "A sweet, beautiful girl."

  "I've always loved you, Miss Jackson," Brooke said.

  Connor felt some tears welling up in his own eyes, and blinked to shove them away. "I'll just be a few minutes."

  He walked down the stairs with Brooke a step behind. Miss Jackson closed the door behind them. He rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs and admired the room. It was a teenager's paradise. Music, a nice TV, old posters on the walls, larger than a normal bedroom.

  Amber was sitting on a bed flipping through an old high school yearbook. A half-empty bottle of whiskey sat on the nightstand, along with a stuffed bear and a pair of glasses. All Connor could see was the top of her blond head as she leaned over the yearbook, her hair falling in front of her shoulders. She wore a pair of shorts and a sleeveless shirt.

  "She hasn't changed clothes since this morning," Brooke said. "Come on, Amber. You have to get yourself together."

  "She's grieving. She obviously loved you. We know our souls go have a day at the park when we die, but that doesn't make death any less painful."

  Amber looked up when she heard Connor. Her eyes were bloodshot, her cheeks red. She grabbed the remote to the stereo and turned the music down.

  "Hi," she said, narrowing her eyes. "I know you, don't I?"

  "Yeah, we met the other day—"

  "Did you know there's a spirit behind you?"

  "I know. I'm Connor—"

  "I'll bet that spirit's a woma
n. I can see why she'd follow you."

  He turned red as Brooke laughed.

  "That's my Amber," she said. "Zero to sixty in three seconds."

  "This spirit behind me, that's actually why I stopped over—"

  "I remember you," Amber said, standing from the bed. "We talked to you outside our apartment. Brooke and I…."

  Her face scrunched up when she mentioned Brooke's name. The tears flowed out as she covered her face with her hands. Connor went to her side and gently wrapped an arm around her shoulders, helping her sit back down. He sat next to her, continuing to hold her, and she buried her head against his bad shoulder. He winced in pain, but didn't complain otherwise. Brooke floated in front of them, and he looked up at her for any advice at all.

  "I've never seen her like this," Brooke said.

  "Brooke's gone," Amber said. "Our apartment burned down, and she died in there."

  "You know she's okay, right? Her soul is out there now, meeting new people and having a good time. She can do anything she wants."

  "Ooh, man," Brooke said. "You're not very good at this, are you?"

  Connor glared at her.

  "But I can't talk to her!" Amber said.

  "It's funny you should say that. What if you could talk to her? What if that spirit there is Brooke?"

  Her body stiffened, and Connor let her go and scooted away a bit.

  "What are you talking about?"

  "I know this is gonna sound weird, but I can hear souls. And that right there is Brooke. She wanted me to come tell you she's okay."

  Amber's expression was unreadable as she looked back and forth between Connor and Brooke. Finally, a small smile crept across her face.

  "Brooke said you were crazy, and I have to be honest. I like crazy."

  She lunged at Connor, catching him by surprise. His head smacked the wall, making him see stars. She grabbed the collar of his shirt with both hands and ripped it, exposing his chest. She pressed her hips against his.

  "Amber!" Brooke shouted. "What are you doing?"

  Connor managed to avoid one kiss, but her lips eventually found his as she reached for his pants. Her breath reeked of alcohol, and he had to fight to keep his dinner down.

  He tried to push her away, but her hand found his bad shoulder and squeezed. He flinched in pain, and she leaned up to adjust her hips, straddling him. She pulled off her shirt in one motion, and Connor looked to Brooke as Amber pressed her breasts against his chest and kissed his neck.