Free Contractor by Andrew Ball Page B

body. It
    formed a thick sheen all the way around her
    person, as if she’d been outlined in chalk.
    He’d been so out of it he hadn’t noticed.
    "Daniel? Are you alright?"
    He tried to shake the cobwebs out of his
    head, but when he looked back at her, the
    outline was still there. "Um…fine. I need
    some coffee or something."
    "It’s that Mr. Griggs pushing you all
    again, isn’t it? That man is incorrigible."
    Daniel pushed his lips up in a smile so
    false it felt like he was wearing a mask. "I
    guess so. See you tomorrow."
    Mrs. Faldey sat her arms up against her
    hips. "You be sure to go to the nurse if
    you’re feeling under the weather, alright?"
    "Yeah."
    Daniel wandered through the halls. The
    bell rang again. He didn’t hear it. His feet
    carried him to his next class by habit.
    "…Dan? Hello!" Mr. Griggs snapped
    his fingers. "Earth to Fitzgerald!"
    Daniel jerked his head up. "What?"
    The class burst into laughter. Daniel
    was still standing in the doorway. Mr.
    Griggs sighed. "Everyone’s half dead
    because of that history paper. Get to your
    seat before I have a hernia." Daniel went
    over and sat down as Mr. Griggs muttered
    something about Mrs. Faldey.
    Mrs. Faldey. She was a shell. Sometime
    over the weekend, between when he’d seen
    her last and gaining his powers, she’d had
    her soul sucked out. Extracted. And now she
    was a shell. What the hell was going to
    happen to her?
    Daniel forced himself awake to avoid
    giving Mr. Griggs ammunition, and escaped
    English without further event. It was then that
    he caught a glimpse of Kyle’s red mohawk.
    Kyle was outlined in a band white fog.
    He was a shell, just the same. Daniel
    watched him carefully, but he was headed
    the other way.
    He didn’t feel an iota of concern for that
    crack-smoking idiot.
    But Mrs. Faldey was innocent. Mrs.
    Faldey was a sweet old history teacher that
    actually cared about people. Mrs. Faldey let
    him sleep in her class because he wrote good
    papers. He liked Mrs. Faldey.

    ****
    "Hey, um…Mrs. Faldey?"
    She stopped with her keys in her car
    door. Daniel stood a few feet from her in the
    teacher’s lot outside his scholastic
    penitentiary. He could feel the black asphalt
    under his shoes, radiating heat after sitting in
    the sun all day.
    "Hello Daniel!" She waited, expecting
    him to speak, but when he didn’t say
    anything, she started again. "Is there
    something I can do for you?"
    "No, just…"
    Your soul’s been ripped out. You’re
    magical residue of your former self. You
    have less than a week to live.
    "Well," he said, "it’s summer and
    everything…I mow lawns to earn a bit of
    cash, and I thought I might as well ask, since
    I saw you."
    Mrs. Faldey’s cheeks brightened with a
    twin-dimpled smile. "That’s very nice of you
    to offer. You know, it’s just getting a little
    high. Do you know my address? Maybe you
    could come over tomorrow."
    "I wouldn’t mind today."
    "Are you sure? You were a bit sleepy
    earlier, to say the least."
    "I’m young, I can take it. I can do it now,
    if you’re going home."
    She chuckled. "Well, how about I give
    you a ride to my house? You can use my
    lawnmower."
    "That’d be great."
    They clambered into her old Honda
    civic. Her weight made it rock slightly on its
    wheels as she slumped into the driver’s seat.
    The interior smelled like pinecones and old
    people. As they started down the road,
    Daniel sent a text to Felix explaining where
    he was.
    It turned out her house was less than a
    mile from Daniel’s. The Cape Cod shape
    was there, but that was the end of any
    similarity. The paint was faded; one of the
    shutters was broken. Even from the ground
    he could tell her gutters were clogged. The
    lawn was an overgrown mess.
    She opened her garage. It was
    immaculate, strictly organized; a strange
    contrast to the outside of the house. She
    pointed. "See the gas canister there?"
    "Yeah. I know the drill."
    "Well, if you get tired, you just come
    right on inside. Be