Chapter 4: Alternative Life


As the dream world ended and my awareness increased, living in a stranger's body flashed through my mind. Surely those events had been nothing more than an extremely vivid dream. Because, in the real world the body you were born with was the body you died in. People didn't magically wake up in someone else's skin. This wasn't some novel where I was the protagonist or worse the supporting character. This was my life. It might have thus far been a boring one, but it was mine.

My fear that somehow, against reason, the impossible had actually happened crippled me. Unable to move, I wished myself back to sleep, which, unfortunately, wasn't working. Without my conscious desire, my senses had begun to take in information, telling me the same message. This awakening was reminiscent of the impossible, rather than my room in Charlie's or even Renée's. The fear mingled with disappointment, creating an intense overwhelming apprehension. Between my mind becoming clearer the longer I was awake and my feelings, tears started to stream down my cheeks, water landing in my ears.

Sad and heavy, not wanting to get out of bed, my mind reviewed all the events in what was sinking in to have been yesterday, as if the action would result in a solution being found.

Jamerica's Dad had picked me up after school, looking irritated.

Instead of being mad at me like I thought he would, given the look on his face, he simply sighed heavily. "It's not like you to be sick," he informed me after a few minutes had passed. "Everything okay?"

"Fine," I informed him, completely unwilling to share.

He raised his eyebrow at me and studied me closely, like I was some kind of experiment gone wrong.

"I've got to go back to work," he told me formally once he stopped his examination. "Tons of paperwork due to the accident. Told mom already that I'll be late. Please don't give her any lip today."

"Sure," I agreed, knowing at the bare minimum that I didn't want to find out what their form of punishment might be.

Renée had always been stanchly against any kind of punishment, believing that it undermined children's creativity. And Charlie barely raised his voice unless I was in danger, while often gave a stern lecture when I displeased him, but I was old enough to know that not every family was like that. Most kids in Phoenix got grounded, but it didn't take much to figure out that some parents still believed in corporal punishment. That was definitely something I never wanted to experience.

It had taken me a few minutes of rummaging to figure out where in her backpack Jamerica kept her keys. Eventually finding them, I got out of the squad car and moved towards their front door. Once the door was open, I turned and waved at her dad, assuming that was something she would have done.

He smiled grimly, and then backed out of the drive.

Maybe I had guessed wrong.

Finding my way back into the room I had woken up in, I had opened my books and started the homework, simply to have something occupy my mind. It honestly wasn't that hard, except many of the Math parts I couldn't remember for which I had to refer to the textbook, and Quillayute was a complete mystery. The hardest part was staying focused, as my brain was in rebellion to events.

"Where are you baby girl?" I heard a woman's voice ask right after the front door had been opened.

Looking up at the clock, two hours had passed.

"Upstairs," I answered, assuming she was asking about me.

No one appeared for a while, although the sounds of other kids playing made it harder to concentrate than before, so I assumed she was making food or something. I was on the Quillayute homework, which I had saved for last when my door opened.

"You hungry?" the same female voice asked.

Turning round I found myself faced with a beautiful woman that reminded me a little of the Blacks. Maybe Jamerica's mom had some Quileute heritage in her. It certainly was common enough. It explained why my skin was so much lighter than Mr. White's. Yet, it was darker than Mrs. White's. Mine was somewhere in between. The skin tone of Mrs. White reminded me of how Renée liked her tea with milk along with a slight reddish hue. It was strange, but beautiful to see how these two people had created Jamerica.

"Yes, please," I told her in my most respectful voice.

"Homework?" she asked gruffly, like she was bone tired.

"Finishing up Quillayute," I let her know.

"Find a place to stop and come downstairs. Martin needs help with his homework. Dinner is almost ready. Your Dad is working late," she told me sternly.

"Yes, ma'am," I replied feeling trepidation in the face of her tone.

"All right then," she stated after a pause. "Don't take long."

"Will do," I promised.

She turned and left, leaving my door open.

Maybe they didn't close doors in this house. Feeling overwhelmed and uncertain, I couldn't concentrate anymore. After trying for a few more minutes, I gave up, marked my place, and made my way downstairs following the noise.

"Martin, come do your homework," she instructed him, as soon as I found the space the three of them were in.

The youngest one was on the floor playing with cars and trucks and seemed content enough. At least her words had informed me of which little brother was Martin.

Finding a seat at their dining table, I waited a few minutes, pleased at the job she had assignment me, as I had tutored a little in Phoenix.

As soon as the second boy returned with some pieces of paper and sat down next to me, I asked him, "So, what are you working on?"

"Math," he huffed.

"Let's see what we can do," I encouraged him.

It took a little to figure out that he liked to add numbers when it was a subtraction and subtract when it was an addition, along with struggling to carry the digits into the tens column when it was more than nine, but by the time his mom instructed us to clear the table he had it almost done.

After Mrs. White served the two boys, Martin had requested to sit next to me, and then handing me a plate, I started eating.

"Are you forgetting something, Jamerica?" her mother asked me.

Looking up at her dumbfounded I had no idea what to say. Maybe they didn't start eating until everyone was served; I waited. Once Mrs. White sat down with her plate, I checked before taking a bite again. Then, I noticed that Martin held his little hand out to me, as did Jamerica's other brother. Not sure what else to do, I took their hands. Then everyone bowed their heads.

"Great Spirit thank you for keeping us safe through this day," Mrs. White began. "Heal those in the car accident this morning. Bring my husband home safely. And bless this food for nourishment of our bodies. Amen."

"Amen," I repeated softly, slightly uncomfortable, but not wanting to be disrespectful.

Despite the turmoil of the day and my promise to myself not to think about Edward, I couldn't help but imagine his family doing something similar. I could never be sure, but they seemed like the kind of family where giving thanks for a meal and spending time around a table like it was important to them. Honestly, it was kind of nice, if not a little old fashioned. Renée was too unpredictable and busy for us to eat together regularly and Charlie worked too much for it to be something I could count on.

Once everyone else started eating, I picked up my fork and ventured a taste. It was some kind of rice and vegetable dish that was completely new to me, but I liked it. She hadn't served me very much, so upon finishing I was still slightly hungry. I wasn't sure if there was more food, though, and didn't want to ask.

Mrs. White must have been paying close attention to me, because shortly after my decision to stay quiet she caught my attention and then asked, "You still hungry?"

"A little," I admitted embarrassed.

"I set aside some for your father, but there's enough for you to have a bit more," she informed me standing up and putting out her hand.

Despite my uncertainty of what she was expecting, I made a guess, taking my plate from the table and handing it to her.

It seemed to be the right thing, as she took it from me and went into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a small helping.

"I know things have been difficult since your Grandmama's passing, but your Dad and I are almost out from under all that. Things will get better Jamerica," she told me in a tone that I assumed she meant to be assuring.

Nodding that I had heard her, I didn't know what to say. It's not like I could explain to her that I wasn't really her daughter.

"I know you and Mandy have been friends since you started school, but not everyone you meet in the big bad world is meant to stay in our lives. Family, on the other hand, you're stuck with. I'm glad to see your attitude change for the better today, but that doesn't mean I want you to become someone else," she told me with a touch of sadness.

Looking up at her, she stared at me as if she could see straight through me.

"Just be you, Jamerica. You have a good heart and a strong mind. You're a good friend and grandmama loved every bit of you."

Even though she wasn't talking about me, I couldn't stop the tears from flowing. No one had ever said such a thing to me. Would she utter such beautiful assuring words if she knew the truth? Probably not, but for a moment I wanted to pretend as if she was speaking to me.

She looked at me puzzled and then out of the blue asked, "You cramping?"

Appalled I didn't know what to say to such a blunt question. "No, ma'am" finally stumbled out of my mouth when her eyes boring into me got to be too much.

She looked at me questioningly, but said nothing. When I finished what she had served, she instructed, "Go ahead and clear the table and clean the kitchen."

"Yes, ma'am," I replied, way more formal than I usual spoke, but realizing that it was the response that caused her to appear the least suspicious of me.

Doing as she had requested, she took the two boys upstairs. It wasn't long after that I heard a bath being run. Then, when I was nearly done with the kitchen, the sounds indicated that she was putting them to bed. After finishing the chore, I went back to my room to complete my homework. I was as close to being as done as possible, which was to say almost nothing, since it was complete gibberish to me, when I heard the front door open. Mrs. White's lack of concern and the deep voice that greeted her caused me to assume the newest arrival had been Mr. White. Ironically, I could hear him undoing his uniform in almost the same way Charlie did when he came in after work. It was a comforting sound and brought a tear to my eye.

As I had left the bedroom door open, since that seemed to be preferred here, I could hear bits of their conversation wafting up to me.

"She's not herself, Ken," Mrs. White insisted.

Then some time later she added, "It's like she got body snatched. I'm telling you there's something wrong with that girl."

"I told her to be respectful to you. That's all," Mr. White disagreed, but his tone was also concerned, as if he was trying to assure them both.

There was talk about the next day and transportation for everyone, but I heard nothing more about myself. The words keep tumbling over and over again in my mind. Would have Renée picked up on such small changes? Possibly, but then it wasn't difficult to imagine her forming some ridiculous conclusions and being happy that I was transformed into someone who was less like Charlie. It was highly doubtful that Charlie would notice that I wasn't myself. He barely knew me and was gone most of the time. Saddened by these thoughts and how much I had wished for parents like these, I cried myself to sleep.

Returning to the present from my memory of last night, my eyes were trained on the ceiling. Remembering the feelings from the night before combined with my disappointment of not being myself resulted in a weight of heaviness bearing heavy upon the centre of my chest. Tears collected, as if ready to fall, but the sense of helplessness regarding my situation blocked them from leaving the corners of my eyes. Wishing my life back wasn't working. Soon someone would be at the door to ensure I went to school. Knowing my time was limited, I tried to sort myself out, to prepare myself for what the day might hold. Mrs. White's tone had been harsh, but her words genuine, and the idea of being truly seen and heard were so enticing. Yet, I was not their kin and desiring to be so wouldn't make it true. Sadness and despondency coated my entire being, resulting in my mind attempting to convince my body to go back to sleep. It didn't work, instead resulting in a greater intensity of the heavy feelings.

Exactly as I had expected, a heavy knock resounded through the room, and then a warning came through the door, "Your butt better not be still in that bed." The combination ensured that I was awake. Despite my envy of Jamerica's parents' attentiveness of her, it wasn't hard to deduct that they were my greatest danger in being revealed. The awkwardness and uneasiness of living in someone else's place certainly wasn't in my favour. Unfortunately, I was completely clueless on how to get my life back. If I didn't want to generate an argument with her parents, I needed to get out of bed and be diligent with each moment as it came.

Getting up, I started to get ready. Then, I got stuck on the hair. With no better ideas, I pulled it into a ponytail and showered that way. It seemed to work, although it took me some time to figure out what body wash to use. After finally cutting the water off, I then was faced with the problem of not knowing which towel was Jamerica's. It was only after stepping out of the tub that I considered that my shower might have gone on for too long, given Mrs. White's speech about things getting better. Grabbing a towel, hoping it was fine to borrow, I re-entered Jamerica's room and tried to find some garments to wear to school, especially in light of Mandy's critiques. Clearly my choices yesterday weren't Jamerica usual flair.

It took some time, but eventually I found an outfit that might allow me to blend in better, while also being comfortable and covering this body up.

When I came downstairs Mrs. White directed me to help the boys get packed up. With a tight voice she told me right before leaving, "Breakfast is in the kitchen."

"Thank you," I told her sincerely.

I couldn't remember the last time someone had made me breakfast.

At the table I found Mr. White.

"Your mom and I are worried about you," he told me, putting down the newspaper.

"Yeah?" I asked afraid that if I said anything else, he would see through a lie.

"We love and care about you. Of course we're worried," he stated unequivocally.

"I didn't mean to worry you," I told him, hoping this truth would assure him and end the conversation.

"It's a parent's job to worry," he shared with me a light chuckle escaping his lips. "Your mom and I both know that you're going through a lot with losing grandmama and then this mess with Mandy." After I voiced a non-committal sound, he continued, "But you don't need to change who you are for anybody. Be proud of how God has made you. Don't flaunt it, but don't try to shape yourself into something else, either," he instructed.

"Okay," I told him, unsure of how else to respond to what he had said.

His countenance got more serious, "Baby girl, you know how much I love your mother, and together we made our family, but I would never have done so at the expense of my parents and relatives. The same is true for your mother. You are not just you or a representative in the world of your mother and I, you also carry within you the blood of the Quiluetes, Hohs, and the African slaves from which my family is descended. My mother might have passed from this earth, and she might be the last of my blood kin that lived in the area, but, my daughter, her leaving doesn't mean you can cut out that part of you."

Looking at my food and my appetite diminished, I answered, "Yes, sir," unsure what else to say, especially in light of the reality that the deed was already done.

"Your mother thinks this is all about a boy," he uttered, as if that idea was silly. "No man, no friend, no future is worth having if it requests that you discard your heritage. You will never outrun who you are."

"Family first," I stated, hoping that would let him know I was listening.

The fact that I was sitting here and not Jamerica made it apparent that she had already gone against all of what he was saying. She probably had her own reasons that had nothing to do with her parents, but in light of his speech her choices caused me to feel sad. I worked at keeping my feelings to myself.

He frowned. "I know the way our family functions is different from many of your school friends. If that means you lose them, let them go. You have Leah as well as other cousins. You are not alone in this world, no matter how Mandy treats you or wants you to become like them."

"Yes, sir," I replied, taken aback by the forcefulness of his words.

He got up and told me, "Bus is leaving in two minutes."

I wasn't hungry anymore, but nevertheless tried to eat everything on my plate, well aware of what it meant to waste food from times with Renée.

He and I said nothing to each other as he drove me to school. It seemed like he had said his peace and allowed the silence. It was another way that he reminded me of Charlie.

My morning classes were better academically. It hadn't been that hard to remember the material, especially after completing the homework last night. Consequently, most of my thoughts were regarding the speech Mr. White had given me. It kept repeating itself in my head.

The love he spoke about wasn't something I had experienced in my family, and it wasn't a romantic one like from my favourite novels. It was something else that had to do with trust and self-awareness and leaning into each other. It was beautiful in its way, and actually seemed steadier than the love featured in the books I read so often. Despite its radical notion for me, I even considered that Romeo and Juliet's love paled in comparison. The love he described might not make for a drama or tragedy, but it seemed ardent from what I had observed thus far. Why would Jamerica have been willing to give that up, assuming her parents' concerns were valid?

Other than exchanging niceties and answering teacher's questions, I spoke to no one the whole morning, as I had been lost in my thoughts.

In the cafeteria I sat near the sophomores once more, ensuring to keep my distance from Mandy and her band of followers. Initially I was hesitant to search the cafeteria. However, my desire to understand what was happening to me, especially as I was on day two in Jamerica's body, was stronger than my fear or reluctance. This time I found myself. It was weird to observe me from an outside perspective. It was clear that my body's presentation was different. The clothes were more revealing, there was makeup, my hair was done up, and it seemed like something romantic was going on with Mike. What kind of person would steal a body for a guy? A kind of fury that I had never before experienced sizzled under the skin I inhabited. Yet, the idea of turning the emotion into some kind of action caused me to wilt. Unwilling to confront myself, as that seemed super weird, but repulsed at watching my body behave bizarrely, I got up and left to go to my next class, even if it meant that I would be early to gym.

Taking advantage of Jamerica's ability to be less challenged with coordination, I moved at a brisk pace. Opening the cafeteria door, I turned back and looked at the Cullen table. At that exact moment Edward locked eyes with me, and I remembered our conversation in Biology. Immediately my mind flashed with Mr. White's words about the importance of family. I smiled tightly in his direction and turned, leaving.

I took my time putting on the ugly gym clothes, allowing others to join me before exiting the changing room. Excited about the possibility of not being a danger to the other students, for the first time ever, I was looking forward to the coach's instructions. When the whistle blew I played hard. I wasn't the best by any means, but the reality that I hadn't injured anyone was a joyous thing to behold. This small joy wasn't worth the cost of living a stranger's life, by any means, but it was a nice benefit in the midst of so much sadness and disappointment.

My last class, Quillayute, was impossible, as it was intermediate and I knew nothing of the language.

The best part of being Jamerica was that everyone already knew her, so her classmates said hi and stuff, but without the attention I had upon my arrival. For the first time since coming to Forks I was blending in.

The last bell rang, and I still didn't have Jamerica's locker information, so went outside. After a few minutes it became clear to me that no one was picking me up, so I set out to walk home. Unfortunately, I got a little lost, so by the time my feet passed the threshold, I didn't have much time to work on my homework before Mrs. White got home with the boys. This time, I stopped immediately and went down to help. By the time dinner was served Martin's homework was complete and we had even played a little together.

After praying over the food Mrs. White looked critically at me, "What do you want?"

Uncertain of what she meant, I nevertheless took the opportunity to ask her for something I needed in the off chance that this wasn't a 48 hour thing, "I want to change my hair."

She scowled and told me, "We don't have any money for the weaves you been asking for, you know that."

"Something else?" I asked, having no idea what weaves were and hoping she would suggest something.

"You willing to have me style it?" she questioned.

"Sure," I agreed, easily, as her doing it possibly meant she'd teach me something.

She looked at me critically. Probably 'sure' wasn't a Jamerica answer.

"I'll make some time Saturday. Maybe some braids?" she asked. "And then I'll do an oil treatment."

"Thanks, mom," I answered, even though the word felt wrong on my tongue.

She nodded. Then after a moment asked, "Homework done?"

"I still have quite a bit left," I admitted.

"Alright, clear the table, but leave the dishes, and finish up your homework," she dictated.

"Yes, ma'am," I stated. When I went to stand she eyed me like I was forgetting something fundamental. Going through my memories of being at other people's houses, I guessed at asking, "May I be excused?" as it was something a friend of mine in Phoenix parents' required.

That was what she expected, as she relaxed and agreed.

After clearing the table, I went to my room and finished up the homework, except for Quillayute.

By the time I went to brush my teeth and get ready for bed Mr. White was home, and the boys were in bed.

Going downstairs I wished them goodnight, as it seemed the polite thing to do. Mr. White followed me up.

"Want the window open?" he asked, surprising me.

"No thanks," I told him, wanting to stay as warm as possible.

He nodded, but stayed in the doorway. Eventually he asked, "Did you hear me today, Jamerica?"

"I heard you Dad," I answered, the name as foreign as mom had been, "Family first, friends and guys second."

"Okay, then," he stated, and then turned off the light. "Sweet dreams."

"Sweet dreams," I repeated back.

Closing my eyes, I reviewed my day. A heavy rock settled in the pit of my stomach as realisation came to me that I had enjoyed the day as Jamerica more than any of the ones in my own skin, since arriving in Forks. Even though I could have never known it, this family unit filled a hole that had existed within me. I felt bad for my thoughts, as they related to my parents, but then again it wasn't as if they didn't have a daughter. They just didn't have me. Mrs. White's awareness that I wasn't acting like Jamerica sat heavy with me and allowed me to see how alone I had felt all these years straddled between my parents. They were good people. It was that Renée was focused on herself and Charlie hadn't gotten a chance to know me with as I had spent little time with him. A part of me yearned to know what it might be like to get to know him.

The evidence from yesterday and especially today in the cafeteria suggested Jamerica was a body snatcher. I was livid in an intensity that was new to me. She had harmed me in so many ways, yet there were ways to penalise her. It's not like I could go tell the authorities or even her parents, let alone Charlie.

After hours of comparing my life as a Swan and now as a White, what it meant in my present as well as my future, I decided, despite the weirdness and challenges, if my conclusions were correct, that I would appreciate a few more days in her family. She might not have, but I would take involved parents who saw me truly with siblings over my place in my family, even though it contained far more independence than this family. Being accepted was a wondrous thing. Yet, as my mind fell asleep, I realised that acceptance wasn't possible, since I was an imposture. Only Jamerica had that. It was out of my grasp and could never be mine. Sleep finally took me as tears streamed from my eyes.