Living with Spirit Girl
Of course I chatted with others as I moved about the school. I pantomimed and made my mouth motions obvious in order to speak with others still in class who could not obviously speak to me. Actually held some conversations with others also moving in the hallways. No reason to waste my time outside the classroom. Of course, I did have an assignment, so I did finally move to the media room in order to make the copies the teacher wanted.
There was no rush to get the job done. The rest of the class, well most of the class, was retaking a test that I had already passed. Ann Chapperly had passed, but she was attempting to gain the A that I made (heh-he). I thus could not be said to be wasting my time, as all I would be doing in class was wasting time while needing to be quiet. I was not a noisy person, but no reason to limit my freedoms while getting a job done.
It was as I stepped back outside the media room that I heard the gunshots. I probably heard them inside the room, but just suspected them to be noise from the antiquated equipment. I quickly stepped back inside the room, then concentrated in a manner that was still new to me.
“Hey, Arraelly, time to go into action.”
“And why is that?”
In her defense, she probably did not know, but I would also agree with you thinking her to be rude. Not that I found girls in general as being sensible. You would think that she would be however, as she was from another planet. Her technology, and the society that developed the technology, had to be so much better than us. I however found her to be rude, and often wondered if she was not just another human that had a father or uncle who was working with some advanced technology and treated their little girl like she was better than anyone else.
I softly said to Arraelly, “Listen, there are gunshots. In a school there are gunshots. Can you go look around?”
“I can’t do anything. I don’t feel the brooch.”
The fact that I even had the brooch in my possession hurt my ego. I found it going through the graveyard. The event that happened where I gained my connection with Arraelly also happened there. That is why I thought of Arraelly as a ghost, even though she constantly assured me that she was not. While I guess it made sense for the spirit of a girl to be connected to a brooch, that did not mean that I would go around with it in my possession.
I thought, “I can’t go around with the brooch. It’s girly. It’s in my locker. Just go look, please.”
“Well, it’s something to do. All right, Blake.”
While it took so much concentration to contact her, I found it so strange to feel when Arraelly left my body. There was a feeling that something very much a part of me was lost. Never was a part of me since that night in the graveyard. I was not a girl, never had been a girl, and she said nothing about being a part of me ever. It also was not easy talking with her unless I had the brooch. She thus had to be a part of the brooch, but when she went active away from me I felt like something precious had left my body.
I set the door to the media room and found a place behind the copier. Nothing said that I was safe, but at least I was not where some loony with a gun could easily find me. At least Arraelly could not be hurt, and she might find something proving my faith in her being a special blessing.
~^~^~ ^~^~^ ~^~^~
Of all the young men I had to get stuck with, it would be one that was lucky. Why it was Blake that found that brooch that night I cannot say. He was pretty observant. I had to give him that. A young man that was lucky in one way usually expected to get lucky in another, and that was a type of young man I really would prefer to avoid.
I did have to give him points for being correct for summoning me this time. The school was indeed being threatened by a number of individuals. There however did not seem to be any plan. They ran around issuing threats, but not really putting any actions behind their words. Wondering myself about what was going on, I allowed that Blake was correct to summon me.
Not having been associated with Blake for long, I had no idea about the layout of the school. Luckily, as I kept moving I could not be easily seen. From what I had heard from Blake and his friends, I appeared as little more than a misty disturbance in the air unless Blake had the brooch and I concentrated on putting substance to my form. They had all suggested that I change my physical appearance, as they could not accept that I was an alien without a form similar to that of humans. One of their group had a device that could show scenes, and he showed me views of a girl he thought was very attractive. Not wanting to disturb the youngsters, I went ahead and accepted their approval of the form for me. At that time I felt that Blake had some control over my presence on this planet, so I did worry about being an attractive image to him. They gathered and held hands focusing on the scenes shown by the device. Even with the feeling of power to cause the transformation, I did feel that I could have refused the change in my form. I however accepted my situation and allowed the influence to make the change to keep me from being a disturbing influence in the life of the youths. Feeling that the children in the school should accept me just as those that had me appear in my present body, I floated about attempting to learn my surroundings as well as hopefully conceive of some plan.
To my knowledge I was not dead. Exactly what my state was I however could not say. As for my purpose in being in this state, I was chasing a criminal. Those moving about were clearly not abiding by the law and were disrupting the peace, so to my knowledge Blake had for once actually assigned me to something I felt was my duty.
He spoke of something about being a superhero. I had no concept of the actual term. I did consider myself someone who worked to protect the innocent and support my native government. Why I needed a special costume or these special ghostly powers to do it, I really did not understand that part of being a superhero.
I stopped upon hearing a door kicked. The criminals had given me impression that they would be ones to beat on a door instead of simply using the doorknob. Something about the place of the door and sound of it being impacted however caused me to believe that it was due to someone or something other than those with evil intent.
“Ommagod! A ghost!”
Even I had to accept that my immaterial form had me look like a spirit. While the exclamation was one of shock, at least it did not have the tones of truly being alarming as sounded from Blake and his friends when I first revealed myself to them. They would not accept that I was an alien, but something demonic. Only after an extended conversation, with me having to accept that Blake had power over me due to the brooch, did I agree to change my perceived image to something he found pleasant. While appearing as a spirit, I was glad that the man accepted me as something with which he could relate.
“Darling, did those bastards kill you?”
Being immaterial also meant nothing to make physical sounds. All I could do was observe. He did wear a uniform with a badge. He was also bound. I looked around to see that the room was a storage place for books. Feeling for a fellow police officer, I moved back out the room hoping to come up with a workable plan.
A number of options came to me, but I came to accept that all needed to involve Blake. He was not a superhero. He did try to claim that status, but only in the sense that I was his superpower. I felt certain, even though I had no evidence, that such was not how being a superhero worked. He also was not an officer of the law. I actually doubted that his mind had developed enough to properly consider him able to become an officer of the law. Still, he was presently my tie to physical reality, so I needed to involve him.
It really hurt my ego that I found myself lost. The school did not have its classrooms and hallways in what I considered to be an easily understood grid. Time needed to be spent for me to regain my bearings. I then took more time to assure myself of the path between the storage room with the police officer and where Blake had secured himself. Feeling that I would not hurt my ego in front of my contact, I did what I could to put a plan into action.
Seeing Blake behind equipment I felt had been a wise thing to do, so kept my words direct. “There is an officer bound up in a book storage room. We need to free him.”
He stood with a smile as if glad to see me even as he asked, “Is it near my locker?”
While I considered that a good question, I had to admit, “I do not know where your locker is, Blake.”
“You cannot feel it?”
I considered that a good question as well, although I would not have answered had I felt able to keep such a secret from Blake. “No. I really do not understand the need for the brooch at all. My focus seems to be on you.”
“Well, if you think it is safe, I am going to see if I can get the brooch.”
“No, Blake. The police officer should have procedures for this situation. We need to get those into action. I thus need you to rescue that police officer. We can make further plans after that.”
“Okay. I guess that you are telling me it is safe to move.”
That was actually a proper assumption, so I spoke to keep him from being rash. “I will let you know when to move. I am assuming that you know the way, but will try to lead you.”
“Yes, I know where the book room is, but it is usually locked.”
“If that is the case then we will need you to move to the locker where the brooch is at.”
“All right, Spirit Girl –“
Not really in the mood for superhero talk, I quickly interjected, “My name is Arraelly.”
“Yes, but Spirit Girl sounds much cooler.”
“Not for me, Blake. I do not want to think of myself, even by reference, as being dead.”
“Yes, I can see your point. I however cannot just go around calling you Arraelly.”
His fixation on superheroes I found completely annoying, which probably showed in my voice. “I don’t see why not. Considering what you have told me, I should be able to go by my title as well. I would much better be called Officer S4 Arraelly Fortauber.”
“That makes you sound normal and boring, Arraelly.”
“Honestly, I would rather be normal and boring.”
“Are you married?”
That question took me by surprise. What bothered me was that I agreed with his question. I considered married women boring as well. In attempting to form a reply, I however found what I felt was a proper answer.
“I am not married, but I am also not dead. I was following a dangerous criminal, so cannot say that I was being boring in jumping into that machine. I did risk my life. You are not in my line of work, so I will not risk you, Blake.”
“Cool. You like me.”
Feeling a need to assure a proper relationship between us, I reminded him, “We are not alike. This body is based on your desire, not on whom I really am.”
“No one would like you as you were, Arraelly.”
“I am not saying that I do not find this form improper for my situation, only that it is not mine. Now, Blake, are you ready?”
“Yes, Officer S4 Arraelly Fortauber. I’m ready.”
Fantasy puts more requirements on the writer than any other fiction, because the world must be made as real before anything else can be real.
Adult Christian fiction quite different than all the usual lame stuff in that market. "Dilemma of Dreams" now in hard back.