Horror Vacui
A/N: Hey, everybody! This is my first story so far and I an extremely proud of it, or at least of what I have at the moment. I'm not sure if the title fits at all to the plot but I'm praying it does, sooner or later. Any who I hope you all enjoy it and please have pity on me and review when you finish the chapter.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of Suze, Dopey, Doc, Sleepy, Father Dominic, etc. and I don't own any of the other characters that you recognize from The Mediator series. The legendary and stupendous Meggin Patricia Cabot created those. However, I do own Joan and many other characters that will appear in future chapters.
Oh, and here's the full summary which was too long for me to put on the main thing-a-ma-jiggie:
Suze finds an old silver ring while attempting to mediate a pesky ghost. There's nothing odd about that. Well, not until Suze finds herself in the 1850s and running into familiar individuals. Erm, is that a bad thing? It becomes one when she realizes Paul is there too, not only Jesse. And unlike Jesse, Paul remembers the future—or is it the past? Aw, crud now I'm confused. I'll never get this mysterious omniscient narrator thing down…
And now without further ado…
Chapter One: Joan of Arc"Suze, we're gonna be late! Hurry up!"
That, of course, was—who else would be witless enough to wake me from slumber? -- Dopey, my incredibly brainless stepbrother. Why must he always ruin my mornings when I'm attempting to receive a few more seconds—God forbid a few extra minutes—of shut-eye?
Why?
"Be patient for once in your short pointless life. I'll be down in a few," I growled loudly. He is so lucky he didn't choose to come up to my room to wake me, otherwise he would be limping throughout the entire day due to a swift kick in a certain area.
I am so not a morning person.
I don't see what his rush was. We weren't even on the verge of being late. We still had like ten minutes before school officially started at the Mission Academy. Plenty of time. I struggled out of bed with a groan and stumbled over to my closet and grabbed the first two articles of clothing that matched with each other. A pink cashmere turtleneck sweater and black Capri pants. Not a bad choice considering I am usually as blind as a bat in the morning. I also bought a cute pair of black leather boots yesterday that would go lovely with the combination. Generally I would take me so much longer to pick out my attire but I had a depressing feeling I wouldn't be seeing Jesse today so my looks didn't really matter that much to me. I have hardly seen Jesse since he moved into the rectory. That was a week ago. It's a bit disappointing how dreary my room is without that familiar ghost. I thought I was a more independent girl.
Jesse used to say I wasn't as invulnerable as I fancied myself to be.
I trudged down the stairs after changing my clothes, brushing my teeth and washing and styling my auburn hair to find my mom standing in the kitchen with Andy drinking a cup of coffee, smiling and chatting.
"Hey, mom. Aren't you late for work?" I asked grabbing a piece of toast on the table and taking a bite. "I mean the local news must have started an hour ago, right?"
My mom choked on the hot decaffeinated coffee she was sipping.
"Oh my God! You're right!" She squinted at her watch as she hastily dabbed her face with a cloth napkin. "Shoot, I don't know what came over me! I am so very late for work. Why didn't they call me?"
Poor mom. I guess she and Andy stayed up way late last night. Why else would mom have not woken up early to go to work? Mom looses track of time when she's happy or distracted.
Eww!
I can't imagine what happened. I shudder at the thought. I just hope this doesn't result in a new baby brother/sister next year.
"Bye, Suzie. Bye, Andy! I'll see you two this evening." My mom cried, giving me a swift hug and then she practically sprinted out the door, passing my three stepbrothers on her way.
Seeing my mom rush out the door must have made Dopey, Sleepy and Doc realize I was still here and school would start in five minutes and that if my mom was capable of running out the door in order to prevent herself from being late or further late than she was already, I should be too.
"Suze! Get your butt the heck outta there or else we're leaving without you!" That was Sleepy this time and he sounded genuinely riled. Also he didn't say 'butt' nor did he say 'heck'. He sure woke up on the wrong side of the bed.
"Hey, watch your language, Jake!" Andy yelled.
He hates it when his beloved sons curse in front of him. Sometimes I think he and my mom live on their own little worlds. It's a good thing Andy doesn't visit the Mission Academy much otherwise he would witness Dopey and his jock buddies cursing nonstop and hacking loogies at little eight graders like some of Doc's brainy friends. Then my stepfather might suffer from a heart attack due to befuddlement. But Jake, who I call Sleepy, is usually too exhausted to swear and he goes to college so his dad might think he's old enough to cuss or at least Andy doesn't hear him cuss that often. But David, who I fondly call Doc, is too much of a nerdy thirteen year old to even consider adding cuss words into his already huge vocabulary.
"Later, Andy," I said and grabbing my book bag, I hightailed it out of there before he could offer to whip me up a batch of buttermilk pancakes. They are the best darn pancakes I have ever tasted but come on; I didn't want to be purposefully tardy. I'm not that cold hearted. But I couldn't resist whacking Dopey upside down when I got outside. Serves him right waking me up before my alarm clock had the chance to.
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It turns out we were late despite the two red lights Dopey had ran. But when Sister Ernestine questioned Dopey, Doc and my self's tardiness (Sleepy goes to college so we dropped him off at his college first so he didn't have to be late for school) I put on a big obsequious grin before Dopey could come up with a lame excuse through all his "Uhhs" and before Doc could tell the truth, I simpered, "But, Sister, we aren't tardy we're just behind schedule. I ask you, is that such a sin?"
Clearly, she thought it was a sin since she gave me an afternoon's detention (which is four hours!) for being late and for --and I quote-- "behaving like a smart aleck," then she sent me to Father Dominic's office. Well, at least now I wouldn't have to go to homeroom yet. Paul is there, the diehard…
"Ah, Susannah. How are you today?" Father D. greeted me as I walked into his office. He was totally clueless why I had been sent here on this unsuccessful mundane Monday morning. I decided it would be best to just break it to him, plain and simple.
"Well, I had a peaceful weekend, ghost free thankfully." But I wouldn't have minded seeing Jesse though. I wouldn't have minded at all. "And I was late for school so Sister Ernestine sent me to you."
Father Dom's blithe vibe instantly croaked. "Oh, Susannah, just for being late? I'm sure Sister Ernestine had a worthier reason than that." His baby blue eyes narrowed in suspision. "Susannah, what did you do?"
My jaw dropped in mock offense. "Father D, I am hurt that you would even suggest that I had to do something worthy of detention from Sister Ernestine. Have you ever thought that she just hates kids and comes up with elaborate lies to rid herself of the slightly strong-willed ones, huh?"
Okay, perhaps it wasn't very wise to imply to a priest that a nun might hate the Lord's children and lie as well. Both might be damnation deserving, maybe worse, but Father D only smiled all-knowingly and gave me a Please-don't-insult-my-teachers-Susannah look that I have been graced with countless times before.
"Okay, fine," I said giving in, sliding onto the chair opposite him. "I may have said something a little… brazen. But that is no reason for the Sister to give me detention. I mean a couple weeks ago I punched Brad and I only got like three hours but this is four! What gives, Father D? A punch in the stomach or a snippy remark. Which one do you think is worst?"
At this point I think Father Dom became tired of my preaching. "Calm down, Susannah. Apart from this, which I am sure is a misunderstanding, you are fine, hmm? Haven't any dealings with ghosts lately?" I said nope not sure where this was going. I decided not to tell him about Craig since Craig had gone to the greater beyond days ago so he was out of my hair for good.
"Good. Well, you're missing homeroom class and I have to write a review on the feast of Father Serra. I think it turned out very nicely, don't you?" Then without waiting for a reply he shooed me out of his office. I didn't put up much of a fight since I was recalling that happy moment I had with Jesse at the celebration of Father Serra. As I entered homeroom I was blissfully unaware of Paul and everyone else.
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"Hey! That's attached to my head you know!"
I groaned at the darting figure as I climbed to my feet, my left hand clutching my poor jerked auburn hair, my right hand holding onto a tree branch for support (I made sure it wasn't poison oak, don't worry, it was the Cyprus type of tree).
What is with ghosts these days? Just because I refused to help the ghostly brat earlier today doesn't mean she had to go tugging on my hair. I mean, please. I was attempting to help her now. Show some common curtsey to the only being that can actually decline and try helping you, thank you very much.
Besides, it is so not my fault that I did not assist her, okay? She was completely unsympathetic of my own plight but then she may say the same of me.
But now I'll never know that, will I?
When she had come to me, just had abruptly appeared without so much as a hint except for that multihued shimmering ghost aura which can only be seen by the mediator's eye, --my eyes, to be more specific-- I was in my world history class completing a test. I'm not the history buff but this was a test about America in the 1800s and I felt obligated to complete it and do an excellent job on it.
Jesse was alive in the 1840s, you know, which was similar to the 1800s, which I thought, was neat. I somehow felt closer to Jesse learning about his time period though I suppose it was the same type of false closeness like the closeness I had briefly felt when I had read his letters to the ferret-faced Maria, but whatever. Jesse, for whatever reason, still wasn't sharing much of his past with me even now that we were practically boyfriend/girlfriend, which is what I continue to patiently hope for.
Anyway, I was innocently sitting on my hard plastic chair writing about the Pony Express in a 300 words or more essay, when that girl appeared. Yup, she just materialized right beside me.
She must have been only fourteen or so, a few years younger than me but she looked like a nightmare, the glow didn't help beautify her completion. If she wasn't dead I bet she would have been considered pretty. Dark long hair down to her shoulders, pale freckled skin and she was clothed in a worn out pair of jeans and a blue top. Obviously she didn't go to the Mission Academy. Jeans are against the dress code.
I guess I sent out a mediator vibe or something because the next thing I knew she was staring at me and then went in this hoarse loud voice, "You're a mediator, right? My name is Joan and I need you to help me." She sounded like one of those dead people on Tru Calling. You know? They say 'Help me' in this freakishly raspy voice.
I swear I would have helped her if the conditions had been different. I couldn't just start talking to her with everyone else around and I couldn't even do something to signal to her that I'd try to talk to her later. I couldn't even write down a note to her since I happen to sit by Kelly in this class and she occasionally glances at my papers. My only choice was to ignore the spirit, which is what I promptly did.
She, Joan that is, didn't take too kindly being overlooked. I could tell by the way the globe of Earth on Mr. Walden's desk began to wobble ever so slightly. But what could I do? Punch her out? No, I'll pass for now, thanks. Maybe later.
It turns out I didn't have to do much except shoot Joan a warning glance. She returned this look with an expression I often see girls like Kelly and Debby giving to other girls like CeeCee and myself, girls who they think aren't as good as them.
It so figures.
Then she dematerialized. The Earth quit its vibrating.
Whatever. At least she didn't levitate the globe to conk anybody hard in the head before she left.
And that is how I ended up here, at the edge of the woods where Jesse's grave is located. That part wouldn't seem so odd since it isn't because I visit his grave often wondering why we can never be perfect together. But it was during this mourning period after I completed my detention sentence (It turns out Father D. didn't do anything to persuade Sister Ernestine to change her mind, he just said he would to make me leave) that Joan appeared. I was about to utter an apology or an explanation or even a proper introduction only I didn't have the chance because the brat pushed me.
That's right the little horror was so ticked off at me that she just strode over and pushed me. Hard.
I was about to say, "Hey, um, I'm sorry about what happened," but you know, she pushed me before I was able to blurt out more than 'Hey, um I'm—'
"What was that for?" I asked sharply regaining my balance. If the little creep touched me again, I swear I'd punch the living daylights outta her. I don't care if she's two years younger than me, I would do it if provoked.
Joan was fuming. Clearly she had just become a ghost because she was panting and already looked tired even though all she had accomplished was angering me.
"You shouldn't brush off a presence, you know. It's not nice! You don't know what I've been through!"
Right.
That was a typical thing for a new dead person to say. But I wasn't as prepared for what came next. Joan glanced at all the tombstones in the graveyard and unexpectedly let out a monstrous sob then crumbled to the ground, leaning against Jesse's gravestone, banging her fist pathetically against the dewy grass.
Whoa.
I still felt the urge to slug her but that just wouldn't be right with her crying pitifully leaning against Jesse's headstone as if her life depended on it. That is if she still had a life.
"I s-shouldn't have d-died!" She blubbered through her tears. "It shouldn't h-have been m–me!! We shouldn't h-have even g-gone! I w-wasn't the o-one driving the darn c-car!" She used slightly stronger language than this but I couldn't blame her in this case.
I kneeled down next to her and laid, what I hoped was, a comforting hand on Joan's arm. I hadn't really heard all of what she said through the weeping but I got the main idea. Presumably she had died in a car crash. Maybe the driver had been drunk, but she wasn't that driver, —of course not, she's only fourteen-- just an innocent passenger, I think.
Well, what was I supposed to do about that to make Joan move on?
"I'm sorry, Joan."
Joan tugged out of my grasp. "You don't have to be s-sorry for me, mediator! Just h-help me, okay?
Boy, was she persistent not to mention rude. It reminds me of two other famous girls named Joan who I'm familiar with, somewhat. Joan of Arc and Joan Girardi from the TV show on CBS Joan of Arcadia. All of these Joans are determined, attractive and unrelenting.
Hmm. Maybe my mom should have named me Joan. Joan Simon. I'd probably be more successful and have a better chance with Jesse.
I held up my hands in an I-surrender way. "Jeez. Moody, aren't we? What can I do for you then?"
She closed her hazel eyes and held her hands to her temple as if she had a migraine and rocked back and forth like Gollum, not answering me. I waited for a moment for a respond.
"Um, do you have any idea how I can help you so you are content with you old life and move on? Because I really do have other things I could be doing, Joan. Like homework and," I checked my watch, "I have to be hope soon for dinner."
This might have struck a nerve, even though I was trying to be as nice as possible, but Joan opened her eyes suddenly livid and jerked forward at me, grabbing my hair before I could even twitch.
"Hey, that's attached to my head, you know!" I keeled over in pain as she stood up then ran.
Oooh, that little hellion. She is so gonna pay for that. This just became personal.
I grabbed a nearby tree branch for support and I was about to run after her when I noticed a small glinting thing nestled at the tree's base. Rubbing my head gently I peered at it, curiously.
It was a ring. A small silver ring with a round jewel embedded into the silver. An elaborate design was cast on the silver creating a distinct picture of maybe words although I wasn't sure what it was of. The jewel was dark blue with grains of a white mineral or something inside it. In the radiance of the setting sun the ring sparkled making it seem almost alive.
I picked up the ring, forgetting momentarily about Joan and studied it until I heard a noise behind me.
"Hey! What's that you got there?" It was Joan, who for some reason came back. She peered over my shoulder, a hand on my shoulder in order to get a better look.
Only a foolish person would come back to a girl after physically assaulting that girl's hair and not expect some sort of punishment. Joan must be incredibly foolish. I was planning on putting on the ring since I didn't have any pockets to keep it safe, then seizing Joan's hand I would flip her over.
But right after I slipped the ring on my left thumb I felt a seriously freaky sensation coming from the region of my tummy and then a sickening jerk sent me backwards, or at least that was the direction it felt like. I couldn't see a thing, only pitch-blackness.
Uh oh. This can't be good.
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A/N: Phew, this took a while to type. Sorry, it's sort of a cliffhanger ending and I probably won't get the next chapter up soon but I appreciate any and all comments/suggestions. Thanks!