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