Erin Huss - 02 The Medium Place by Erin Huss

Author:Erin Huss [Huss, Erin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: EH Publications
Published: 2019-05-13T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

I peel out of the parking lot, leaving a cloud of burnt rubber behind me. "Come on, come on, come on, come on," I chant as I get on the highway. "Come to me, Penelope. Come to me."

Driving as fast as Brian’s car will go (which isn’t very fast at all, or maybe it seems slow compared to mine), I near the Fernn Valley County border. "Come to me, Penelope. Come here, please."

The silence stretches on, and I grip the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white.

"Come on, Penelope." I know it’s a long shot, but if I can summon Penelope, I can ask her about the truck and the tree. “Come on, Penelope. Please.”

“I'm here,” she says. I can barely see the outline of her spirit sitting in the front seat.

I’m so relieved I could cry. “Where have you been?”

"The brown place.” She sounds like she’s speaking through a paper towel roll.

“When you're there, does the brown remind you of the blanket on your bed at your dad’s house? The fuzzy brown one?"

"It's hard to tell. It’s just brown.”

I want to yell, we know it's freaking brown! But I don't. Getting hysterical didn’t work out well last time.

Penelope grows brighter—her features becoming clearer. There’s still mud on her forehead and a cut under her eyes. But her hair is down, and the twigs are gone, and her shirt is clean, and she’s wearing a jacket.

“Why are you so red?” she asks and leans in closer. “Did you burn yourself?”

"I went to Jack's school, and she waxed my face off,” I say and wince at the memory. “Why are you wearing a coat?"

Penelope looks down as if she hadn’t noticed. “Wow. I thought I lost this jacket when I moved to Trucker. It was my favorite. I wore it almost every day. How’d I get it on?”

“There’s a headband in your hair, too.”

Penelope touches the top of her head, confusion plaguing her face. “I don’t remember putting on a headband.”

“You’re also wearing sneakers,” I point out.

Penelope peers down. She has on black and pink high-top Sketchers. They look brand new.

“These are my favorite shoes,” she says, turning her right foot from side to side. “I accidentally ruined them with glue last year, and I was so bummed. They don’t make them anymore.”

Penelope is in her favorite shoes. Her favorite jacket. Her hair looks freshly brushed and silky smooth. The cut under her eyes is fading as well as the mud. Which means one thing, Penelope is leaving.

Crap!

I don’t want to tell her this, because I don’t want to freak her out. If anything, she deserves to transition peacefully. But I’m not giving up hope. Not yet.

“Do you remember the Dead Sea Mud Mask Wes gave you?” I ask.

She touches her forehead. "Do you think?"

I nod. “I don't think you're by a creek anymore. I think you were applying the mask when your attacker broke into your room.”

“Who the hell broke into my room?”

“Two new developments while you were in the brown.

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