Sleep Stalker (Ghosts Beyond the Grove Book 1) (2 page)

     And I evidently wasn’t the only one who noticed it.  While one guard verified my identity, the other asked Micah if we were traveling together. 

     “No, um, well, kind of, yes,” he stammered, dropping his empty fry container into the garbage can beside his seat.

     “Well which is it—no or yes?  Are the two of you traveling together or not?” the guard demanded impatiently.

     Suddenly, I decided to let him off the hook and I answered for him.  “We aren’t together but we are on the same flight.  We met here at the airport when I literally ran into him while looking for the gate.  I bought him lunch to make up for my clumsiness.”

     Still unsatisfied with either my explanation or Micah’s suspicious behavior, the guard ordered Micah to produce his identification and boarding pass as well.  Nervously, he reached into his duffle bag and complied.  The guard analyzed it closely then handed it back. 

     “I expect both of you boys to behave yourself until it’s time to board.  If I get called back over here for any reason, you’ll both be walking to Pittsburgh.”

     Relieved that my run-in with security ended peacefully, I shoved my stuff back into my bag and discreetly checked to see if anything was missing from my wallet.  All of my money was still there.  I’d felt sure that Micah had freaked out around the guards because he’d stolen something from me when I wasn’t looking but I guess I was wrong.  There was nothing else of value in my bag and everything looked the same as it did when I packed it this morning.  I felt terrible for suspecting him but at least I was wrong.  However, there was still the “dueling Rubys” issue for me to deal with.  Silently, I said a prayer for her safety then struck up a conversation with Micah to get my mind off of my fears.

     For the next half hour, he and I discussed a multitude of topics—college, music, etc.  The only subjects I wanted to avoid were girls and the incident we shared with airport security, neither of which he even mentioned in passing.  The minutes ticked away effortlessly and before I knew it, our plane was ready for us.

     I was called first to board so I gathered up my stuff and fell in behind the other passengers.  Once my spot in line was secured, I looked over my shoulder to tell Micah that perhaps we would get lucky and be sitting next to each other on the plane. 

     “Maybe…,” I began but stopped there.  My mysterious new acquaintance was now walking briskly in the direction of gate 11B, his duffle bag slung casually over one shoulder.

     This day was supposed to be a good one.  My flight to Pittsburgh was the last leg of my trip home from California and I’d planned to enjoy it.  It was the last flight I would be taking for probably quite some time.  I wanted to sit back in my seat and savor the adrenaline rush I experienced during takeoff, spend the rest of my time in the air thinking about Ruby and the new journey we were setting out on together starting tomorrow.  That was how I
wanted
this to end.

     Instead, I stared out the window, yawning as the wheels left the runway.  I was worried and full of questions yet suddenly very tired.  We’d barely even made altitude before I fell soundly asleep. 

     I was so deeply entrenched in my nap that the flight attendant had to wake me up so that I could exit the plane.  A few random recollections of the dream I’d been having flitted through my brain briefly then were lost.  The only thing left behind was a nasty headache and a serious urge to go right back to sleep. 

     It wasn’t until I saw Ruby’s face that I even remembered the incident at O’Hare and the terrible fear that accompanied it.  Eventually, I would have to tell her about seeing her double in Chicago—I
hated
to leave any mystery unsolved.  But I knew exactly how she would react and I wasn’t in the mood to deal with it.  She would get worried and hyper, re-hashing the details until I wanted to scream.  My head hurt far too much for that.

     I endured multiple hugs from her and my parents—all overreacting as though I was returning home from war not sunny California.  Then it was nothing but questions.  Questions, questions, questions.  How was my trip?  Did I see anyone famous while I was out there?  Did Crimson talk to me about the kidnapping?  How nervous was I to go onstage in front of so many people?  Fine, no, not really, and pretty freakin’ nervous.  Satisfied?

     My patience was wearing thin.  All I wanted was some damn peace and quiet.  So when Ruby complained about how hot she was on the way to the car, I snapped.  Snapped.

     “Well you’re the dummy who wore pants on an eighty degree day.  Maybe you should have worn a dress instead.”  Not just any dress.  That dress. 
The
dress.  The one she was wearing in Chicago.  I wanted to come home and find her wearing
that
dress.  Why would she disappoint me like this?

     So of course, being a typical girl, her eyes began to crinkle up into cry mode.  I knew she wouldn’t shed tears in front of my parents over something so stupid but the fact that she wanted to pissed me off so bad.  I couldn’t deal with any of them anymore.

     “I have a blinding headache and raging jet lag.  Can you all just leave me alone?  Please?  All I want to do is go back to sleep!” I shouted as I got into the backseat of the car.

     Silence.  Finally, silence.  I curled up into a tight little ball as far away from everyone as I could possibly get and fell instantly asleep.

2.  Hotbed of Confusion

     Today
had
to be a better day than yesterday was—it simply had to be.  While I never expected the Zach I kissed goodbye at the airport to be the same Zach who returned, I got the exact opposite of what I’d hoped for.  Outbound Zach was nervous about flying and then performing in front of a huge crowd in Santa Ana.  He was disappointed that I couldn’t go with him but said he would be counting down the days until we would be together again.  Inbound Zach, to be perfectly blunt, was nothing short of a total jerk.  There were too many things we
needed to get done and I needed “normal” Zach back to help me get everything accomplished.

     First thing on the agenda, though, was saying goodbye to Dad and Shelly.  It was my stepmom’s idea to send me out of
Charlotte’s Grove the same way I came into it—with breakfast at the All American Diner.  She even had Diane Mason reserve the same table for us—the one the three of us first sat at a little over a year ago.  As I slid into my seat, I recalled how I felt that day.  Alone.

     Still grieving Lee’s death, I hated everyone and everything—including myself.  I hated Dad and Shelly for bringing me to this town and taking me so far away from Trinity and all of my childhood memories.  I hated them for not understanding me when in all actuality; they understood me better than I understood myself.  And honestly, I hated them because they weren’t miserable like me.  Who would have guessed that, in the end, leaving both them and Charlotte’s Grove behind would make me cry.  But it did.  A lot.

     “So what are you having, Ruby?” Dad asked as he perused the
faded menu that he already knew by heart.  “I can’t make up my mind.”

     “Me neither,” I replied, torn between the sausage and
biscuits with gravy and the steak and egg burrito.  The only thing I knew for sure was that I wanted milk—something I rarely drank but occasionally had serious cravings for.  Like now.

    
When the waitress appeared at our table, I laughed to myself when I saw who it was.  Laverne—the same lady who took our order the first time we ate there.  And yes, I eventually discovered that it actually
was
her real name and not a nickname in keeping with the restaurant’s theme.  At least this time I wouldn’t have to watch while she ogled Andy’s behind because he was nowhere in sight.  She turned to Shelly first for her drink order and my stepmom, perky as ever, told Laverne what we would all be having. 

     “Coffee for both of us,” she said, gesturing to my dad, “And my daughter will have orange juice as always.”

     Lately, she’d begun referring to me as her daughter instead of her stepdaughter and I was perfectly okay with that.  Even though I was dying for a glass of milk, I chose not to correct her.  She wasn’t my mom, but after the way we bonded over the past year, it sure felt like she was.  But still, deep inside, I had to admit—after catching a brief glimpse of my dead mother on prom night—I’d been thinking about my real mom more than ever before.

     Mom died when I was only four years old—I didn’t even remember her.  Until the night I saw her gliding gracefully through the cafeteria at CGHS on the best night of my life.  That was the night I became prom queen, the night Zach woke up from his prolonged state of unconsciousness.  Once the initial excitement of those two monumental moments wore off though, she was all I could think about.

     I spent the better part of my summer grilling Dad for details.  What was she like?  What did she love/hate?  What were her passions after giving up her ballet career?  I wanted to know who she was because I felt that in knowing her, I would somehow find myself.  He had few answers for me.  I learned that green was her favorite color and that before I was born, she loved to travel.  They took exotic trips to non-touristy parts of the world before settling down together in Trinity, Pennsylvania.  He knew very little about her family, her past.  She was a mystery to him and he said that was part of what he loved about her most.  Unlike my dad, though, I was a mystery
solver
. 

     So after that, I resolved to uncover the things he allowed her to keep hidden.  I wanted answers.  Who was she before they met?  What was her family—
my
family—like?  A few weeks before his trip, Zach and I drove to Philadelphia so that I could see the stage she used to dance on.  No one there remembered her.  But someone somewhere did and I was dead set on finding them.  I had to know the other half of who I was. 

     After breakfast—which ended up being my usual scrambled eggs and bacon since I couldn’t decide what I was
really
hungry
for—I shared mutually tearful goodbyes with my parents.  The only thing left for me to do in Charlotte’s Grove was to help Zach finish packing the rest of his stuff.  There was no reason for me to think that he would still be in a foul mood like yesterday.  Zach was almost always my warm ray of sunshine.  I pulled into the driveway at the Mason house with a positive attitude.

     Which promptly disappeared completely.  He told me days ago that he would be up early and have mostly everything ready to go when I got there.  Instead, I found that he was still in bed.  According to his mom, that was exactly where he’d been from the moment they’d gotten home the night before.

     “I tried to wake him up several times this morning, Ruby,” Diane Mason said apologetically after delivering the news.  “Every time he would roll over, mumble something about jet lag, and then go right back to sleep.”

     “I’ll wake him up even if I have to pour cold water on his face to do it.  I gave up a free trip to California so that we could get moved into our apartment in time for his first day of class.  He’s
going
to wake up and appreciate that. 
Now
.”  I marched into his room and plopped down hard on the edge of his bed, causing him to jolt himself awake. 

     “Mom!  What the—?” he spat out angrily before seeing that it was me who so rudely awakened him.  “Oh, Ruby, it’s just you,” he calmly uttered before burying his head back into his pillow.

     “Zach, you have to get up now.  We have a lot of stuff to do today.  And besides, you’ve been asleep for over twelve hours now.  Even if your internal clock is still set to California time, it would still be time for you to be up by now.  Rise and shine, Rockstar, rise and shine.”  I pulled the pillow out from under him and threw it into an empty packing box on the floor.

     Instantly, he bolted straight up in his bed with eyes full of rage.  “What was
that
for?” he snapped.  “You
just
told me that you were tired too and wanted to stay in bed a little while longer!”

     The look on his face, the tone in his voice made me want to put distance between the two of us.  I slid off the edge of the bed and took a step back.  “No, I didn’t, Zach.  You must have been dreaming.”

     He began rubbing his eyes and shaking his head in confusion.  “No, it wasn’t a dream!  I swear you were right here and you said that!”

     Knowing myself how vivid dreams could be, I softened my approach.  “Sorry, Zach, but it was definitely a dream.  I only got here a few minutes ago—ask your mom.  I’ve had dreams that felt incredibly real, too.  I’ve woken up just as confused as you are right now—trust me, I know what it’s like.”

     “But…,” he stammered then fell silent.  He looked around the room for a minute then replied, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

     Resisting the urge to remind him that as his girlfriend, I was automatically
always
right; I instead came up with a humorous reply. 

     “At least you were dreaming about being in bed with me and not some scary ass ghost!  Or worse yet, some other girl,” I said with a giggle in hopes of making him laugh.  All I got in return was an obviously fake smile.

     “Right again,” he said while taking a look at his alarm clock.  “I didn’t realize how late it was.  Can you go get me a cup of coffee while I get changed?  Black.  And a couple ibuprofen, too.  Thanks.”

     Coffee? 
I
never knew Zach drank coffee.  He’d never mentioned drinking it that I could remember.  Was this some new habit he brought back from California with him?  Maybe it was how Crimson and the other members of NeverMore started their day and he started drinking it to fit in.  I guess there were worse habits in the world for him to have picked up.  Nodding my head, I closed his bedroom door and made my way to the kitchen.

     I poured a cup for Zach and myself and sat down at the table with Diane.  She was even more surprised by his request than I was.  This unnerved me a bit.  I couldn’t shake the feeling that Zach was terribly different than he was when he left.  Jet lag.  Having never flown myself, I decided not to judge his recent behavior too rashly.  In a few days, it would most certainly work itself out.  Diane deposited two pain pills beside his cup and we waited for him to join us.

     As we sat there discussing the move to Ohio, sounds began emanating from somewhere down the hallway.  Immediately our conversation ceased as we strained our ears to figure out what was causing them.  Faint at first, they grew louder and louder until they were finally in the kitchen with us.  Those random noises were coming from Zach.

     Drum noises.  He was mimicking the various sounds as though he were verbally playing them.  I’d never heard him do that before and by the look on her face, neither had his mother.  He acted like we weren’t even in the room, like we definitely couldn’t hear what he was doing.  She and I both spoke his name but he didn’t respond.  He sat down at the table, popped the pills, and then washed them down with a sip of coffee.  All of a sudden, he seemed normal again yet unaware of the peculiar episode we’d just witnessed. 

     “Good morning!” he exclaimed cheerfully, almost like himself but not quite. 

     Diane and I exchanged worried looks before quietly responding with the same. 

     Jet lag.  I turned those words over in my head repeatedly.  Jet lag coupled with the extreme adrenaline rush he must have felt from playing on stage with NeverMore in front of a sizable crowd.  Both would wear off in a matter of days, though—right?  Yes.  Once he got back into the daily routine of school, the old Zach would return.  The motivated, ambitious, hardworking Zach would be mine again by tomorrow night—if I didn’t go crazy dealing with
this
Zach in the meantime.

3.  Star Quality

     By the time Ruby and I got everything packed, I was ready to go back to sleep.  There was no way I was getting behind the wheel for such a long drive.  I
begged
her to leave her car behind with the promise that we would come back next weekend to retrieve it.  After a thirty minute argument about it, she finally gave in to my request.  As her boyfriend, I asked for very little yet had given her so much—it was about damn time she did what I asked her to.  If she had any idea how tired I was, she wouldn’t have argued with me in the first place. 

     Once she calmed down and stuffed her few belongings into what little space was left in our SUV, we said goodbye to my parents and hit the interstate.  Chatter.  That’s all she wanted to do was chatter.  What part of “I want to go to sleep” did she not understand?  Yes, eventually I wanted to tell her all about my trip.  Why wouldn’t I?  It was the best week of my life.  But not now.  I closed my eyes and turned away from her so that she would get the hint.

     Her constant demands had sunken me into a seriously bad mood.  If I went to sleep in a bad mood, I would invariably wake up in one too.  If I didn’t fall asleep happy, I had nightmares.  I’d been that way for as long as I could remember.  So at a very young age, I began concocting fun stories in my head the minute I got into bed.  I would imagine that I was someone famous—usually a rock star—someone everyone liked and wanted to
be
like.  Over the years, my fantasies grew less elaborate yet no less soothing to me.  But today, I wasn’t going to visualize myself suddenly becoming a math whiz especially since I’d recently had my youthful fantasy come true.  Well, sort of.  Mentally, I took myself back through the last few weeks of my life.

     When I got a call from an unfamiliar number, I never would have guessed what kind of opportunity lay on the other side of the phone.  I didn’t even recognize Crimson’s voice at first.  She was my sister’s friend more than she was mine.  In fact, I barely knew her at all.  But she apparently remembered one thing about me.

     “Zach, how would you like to sit in for a few shows in California next week?  I’m in desperate need of a drummer.  After everything you did to help find me last winter, I wanted to give you first crack at this gig.  Rachel tells me you’re good and that you know most of our songs already.”

     I was always told that if you did something good for someone else purely out of the kindness of your heart, one day you would be doubly rewarded.  In that moment, I knew that it was true.  When we all set out to rescue Crimson who had been kidnapped by a serial killer, none of us were looking for any kind of reward.  In the end, I got two rewards.  First, a share of the money Giuseppe paid Ruby to make up for the fact that his psycho son tried to kill her.  Second, a once in a lifetime chance to be famous for a few days.  Immediately, I told Crimson I would do it.