Page 55 of Ghostly
Struck with an idea, Gabriel slid the book back and headed for one of the antiquated computers. From the counter, Marge waved at him with a book and mouthed, “Love the bun.” He returned a smile and a vaguejust-checking-somethinggesture, and fired up the computer.
Or, he tried to. Anything relating to being fired up would be too much for this computer: it took ten minutes and a whole lot of beeping before Gabriel even made it to a website. But he was too jittery to leave this for later, and a part of him also wanted to keep it from Ida, in case it turned out to be nothing.
With the book having no title, Gabriel only had the author’s name and the book’s looks to go by. A lot of blind-alley searches and one page ofdisputable origin later, he finally found another copy. It was ridiculously overpriced, considering its used condition and the fact the owner didn’t seem to know of its supernatural abilities, but Gabriel didn’t hesitate before buying it, and even paid extra for a two-day delivery. He’d nearly clicked the order done, when he remembered another thing, and quickly typed into the request box:
Doorbell notworking. Please leave on the porch.
***
Ida took deep breaths (for the sake of focusing, not maintaining her lifeless functions) and reached toward the ripening winterberry shrub. She’d already removed some snow off it, although doing that was much easier than properly picking a branch. At least without damaging it. Vivid red berries, scattered across the snow beneath her feet, testified to her previous failed attempts.
Imagine its feel. And grab it. Just grab it.
She had to stay calm, but that was hard when she also had to concentrate energy into her fingers.Hold it…She wrapped her fingers around the branch; they passed through at first, so she withdrew to an inch away and squeezed her eyes shut for one last focusing burst.
She heard a snap, and when she opened her eyes, a piece of the shrub—a few leaves, with perfect plump berries—was floating in her hand.
I did it!
She rose, stabilized herself again as she nearly dropped the little sprig, and hurried inside to drop it into a vase on the coffee table.
Light, hurried steps pounded down the stairs.
“Gabriel! Look at what I’ve done!”
“Judging by the tone, I’ll guess it’s good, not bad,” Gabriel said, walking into the living room.
“Ta-da!” She stepped aside so he could see the vase. “Winter decoration. Isn’t it lovely?”
“You picked it yourself? Well done.” He held one hand behind his back.
“What’s going on?”
“I have something to show you.” He gestured to the couch, and she sat.
Gabriel’s face was strangely restrained, his mouth twitching. “But before I do, remember, this is still the supernatural we’re dealing with. And just like with the Passing Through contract, there could be faults… glitches…”
“Whatis going on?”
He pulled the slim, leather-bound volume of Brenda Bustin’s ghostly book from behind his back.
“You went back to the library to get it. But I thought you said there was nothing more there about the contract.”
“That part was true.” Gabriel cleared his throat. “However, I didn’t tell you I noticed something else in the book in the library. Missing pages right after the original contract.” He tapped the book. “This isn’t the same copy from the library. I bought it. It’s yours, if you want it.”
“That’s lovely, but what am I going to do with it?”
Gabriel opened the book to somewhere in the middle and carefully laid it out in front of her. “These are the missing pages. It’s another contract. And, Ida…” His eyes, the deep green of the winterberry leaves, sought hers.
“I think it can bring you back to life.”
Chapter 14
“You can’t be serious.” Ida shuffled back on the sofa.
“It’s all in the contract. Look.” Gabriel tapped the page.
Ida peeked at it with one eye closed, one half-open, afraid this brief moment of joy would evaporate as soon as she set her eyes on the page. Make her alive again? She believed in a lot of things, but this seemed out of reach.
