After Life Read online

  Zoe looked nothing like her brothers. They had dark hair, were tall and thick while Zoe’s hair was light brown, and she was petite.

  Her brothers barely lifted their heads when she walked into the living room, and they practically grunted their hellos.

  She rolled her eyes at her mother, to hide the fact that this lack of reception stung.

  Mum mouthed boys conspiratorially as she shook her head.

  But Zoe needed to keep things in perspective; she had only been away for a few weeks. And, unlike her brothers, who had one person—Zoe—missing from their lives, she had left everything behind that was familiar, so, comparatively, weeks felt like months.

  Zoe’s dad arrived home shortly afterwards. She hugged him tightly as she whispered her sympathies.

  Despite everything, she had missed her family much more than she could have ever believed possible, and it was good to be home.

  ◆◆◆

  The funeral was held on Friday mid-morning. Miserable weather, suitable for a melancholy day. Big black thunderclouds heaved and pressed oppressively low in the sky. Grey dusted everything, along with a fine coating of humidity that made it all feel sticky and wet.

  In the car, as they drove to the funeral hall, Mum looked behind at Zoe sitting in the back seat between her two brothers, and asked, “Are you going to be okay here today?”

  Zoe read between the lines. It wasn’t a question of whether her emotional state could handle saying goodbye forever to Nan, but, rather, if she could handle herself if certain unwanted people were to arise.

  Dead people.

  And if Zoe were to answer truthfully, she’d have to say she didn’t know. She was scared, not so much of seeing spirits at the funeral parlour, but of her ability to handle them especially since she had been paying them attention, they may appear stronger and more vivid.

  Today was for her family to say goodbye to Nan, not to worry about Zoe. “I’ll be fine.”

  Mum offered a tight smile, nodded and turned to face the front, not before a shared glance with Zoe’s Dad.

  Zoe lowered her head and closed her eyes. A tear fell down her cheek; she wiped at it quickly, hating this—the worry she caused her parents, the anxiety they always had wondering if she was going to flip out.

  Her hand squeezed into a fist at her side, and she resisted hitting something, anything, over and over until her knuckles were sore.

  Why couldn’t she be like her brothers with their carefree lives?

  Why did she have to be the one born differently?

  ◆◆◆

  An open casket. Zoe hoped it wouldn’t be because she wasn’t certain she was strong enough to look upon Nan’s dead body.

  Mum and Dad moved directly to the coffin and lingered, looking longingly at the lifeless frame inside. Zoe held back and let them have their moment, then her brothers who didn’t stay long.

  Nan wasn’t big; it seemed blatant now as she walked up to the small, wooden coffin. Zoe took her time. Heart racing. And before she could stop herself and turn around, she was at the casket’s side.

  She drew a deep breath, let it out, and looked inside.

  Nan was in there, eyes closed, arms resting by her sides as though she were sleeping. But her face was too thin, her skin too pasty white despite the thick make-up.

  Zoe shuddered.

  “I know. I look horrible in blue.”

  Zoe whirled and met the intense gaze of Nan who was standing behind her.

  She gasped, and her hand flung to her chest, a futile attempt to ease her stuttering heart.

  “Who told them to dress me in blue?” Nan asked, appearing opposite the coffin, focusing on her body inside.

  Zoe knew she should ignore Nan, but it was her beloved grandmother, and she was brimming with emotion to see her. Her soul was burning with love for this strong-willed, candid, caring woman. Zoe smiled and caught the tear that rolled down her cheek with her palm. She shook her head and whispered, “I think it was Aunt Peggy.”

  Nan rolled her eyes. “That’d be right. She never had dress sense, no matter how much I tried. Lord knows I tried.”

  Zoe smiled wider. She wanted to run to Nan and throw her arms around her. “It’s so good to see you.”

  Nan lifted her gaze to meet Zoe’s and grinned. “It’s good to see you too, precious girl. I missed you.”

  “I missed you too.” Tears came faster now. “Have you come to say goodbye to everyone?”

  Nan nodded. “There’s something I need to settle. With you. Then you can take me. ”

  Zoe frowned, narrowed her eyes. “Take you?” A hand touched the back of Zoe’s shoulder. She jolted and spun to see her mother.

  “I know you’re upset, but we need to take a seat now.”

  Zoe wiped at her cheeks, shook her head. “Nan needs me. I need to find out … I don’t understand what she means—”

  Mum’s breaths came harder, quicker. She leaned in and lowered her voice. “We can discuss this after the ceremony. Do not make a scene. It’s not the time or place.”

  Zoe stilled and peered at all the solemn faces lined up along the pews. She knew well enough what her mother’s hissed whisper indicated—Zoe was embarrassing herself and needed to stop right now.

  She nodded and smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear. Her mother took her arm and led her to her seat.

  And for the sake of her family, Zoe forced herself through the ceremony, not giving Nan another glance.

  ◆◆◆

  The wake was held at the family home. Close friends and relatives sat around the back garden drinking wine and beer and eating catered-in nibbles.

  They spoke stories of Nan and all the different ways each of them knew her.

  A lump of grief sat in Zoe’s throat and wouldn’t leave.

  All the while, Nan paced back and forth across the lawn, wringing her hands together. She kept glancing at Zoe, waiting.

  But waiting for what?

  Zoe wanted to run over to her and ask what it was that she had to do. What was it Nan needed to settle with her? Where was it she had to take her? But there were too many watching eyes. Plus, she was frightened it would mean she’d have to say goodbye again, for good.

  Nan had always been on Zoe’s side, even when her world began to crumble around her. At times, Nan seemed to be the only one who had her back, never judging, never interfering, but offering a loving smile or hug and letting Zoe know that she loved her, no matter what.

  Who was going to do that now that Nan was gone? The thought made her chest ache like someone had set fire to her heart.

  Zoe understood now how hard it must have been for Theron to take that final leap and let his brother go.

  Just thinking of Theron, tempered the heat in her chest. She checked her phone for messages and smiled a watery smile when she saw there was a message waiting.

  THERON: Thinking of you today. Call me if you need someone to talk to.

  Zoe pressed her phone to her heart and closed her eyes.

  Theron was unlike anyone she had ever met. His willingness to accept her, despite knowing all about her craziness, was almost unbelievable. During high school, every one of her so-called friends discarded her the moment things became too tough or her life had the possibility of ruining their reputations.

  Theron was proving to be different, and this scared the hell out of Zoe because some part inside of her knew that if she trusted this situation and Theron entirely, she was going to get hurt.

  And so was he.

  By the time all the guests ebbed away, it was late, and Zoe found it difficult to keep her eyes open. Her bones ached with a fatigue unlike any other, as though filled with cement.

  Her parents retreated to the living room for a cup of tea. She joined them, along with her brothers who flicked the television on to a sit-com. Seemed like the wrong thing to do when they were all supposed to be grieving, but the canned laughter was a relief from the dark feelings of the day, and the light storyline was a welc
ome distraction.

  Dad, after a few moments, shifted in his seat and sighed. “What happened there today, Zoe?”

  Zoe didn’t look at him, instead kept her gaze on the television screen, but she could feel her family’s attention boring into her, brothers included. She had learned over the years that if she wanted freedom, she had to tell her parents what they wanted to hear—that meant lying.

  “I was shocked when I looked at Nan in the coffin.” She finally lifted her gaze to meet her dad’s.

  He frowned as he nodded, seeming to accept her explanation. “It’s tough losing a loved one.”

  “It is,” she agreed.

  “What was this talk about needing to know what Nan wanted?” asked Mum.

  Zoe cringed inside. Trust Mum to take it further. She opened her mouth to speak but hesitated to think of an acceptable answer. “I felt helpless. I needed to do something, but I couldn’t. Her death felt so final. That’s difficult to accept.”

  Mum watched Zoe through slightly narrowed eyes. Obviously, she wasn’t buying the story.

  Dad, however, pinched the bridge of his nose and nodded. “We all handle death in our own way.”

  “Are you still taking your meds?” asked Mum.

  Zoe nodded. “Of course.” She wasn’t. And hadn’t been since summer. “Why?”

  Mum shrugged. “Just making sure. I would hate for you to…for all that stuff to crop up again.”

  Or for you to be ashamed of me?

  “Leave her alone,” said Zoe’s younger brother, Seth. He was looking from Zoe to Mum, his face defiant.

  Zoe’s heart blossomed with warmth and gratitude. She wanted to run to Seth and hug him tight for defending her. She loved her brothers dearly, no matter how gross-angsty-teenager they were.

  But always hiding behind that love, a nest of guilt sat in her belly for putting this additional pressure on the family.

  Seth was fifteen years old. He shouldn’t be worrying about family fights over her current state of sanity or if she was or wasn’t taking her meds.

  Zoe cleared the tension in her throat. Wiping her palms on her dress, she attempted a weak smile. “I’m going to head off to bed.”

  “Sure, honey,” Dad said.

  “Okay. We’ll see you in the morning,” Mum said.

  Zoe said goodnight and I love you, then slunk away upstairs. After a long hot shower to unknot her tight muscles, she dressed into her pyjamas and sighed noisily as she lay on her bed.

  For a moment, being back in her familiar room, it felt like she had never been away. Though, after the conversation downstairs, all the reasons she did leave to go to a boarding school came flooding back.

  No matter how hard it had been trying to fit in elsewhere, it was better than not being able to fit into her own family.

  That thought compounded the pain of losing Nan, and a sob broke free from her throat. She pressed her face into her pillow and cried and cried until a whisper sounded in her ear.

  “It’s okay, precious girl. I promise it will all be fine.”

  The sound of Nan’s voice shocked Zoe out of her self-pity. She lifted her face from her pillow. Nan was standing beside the bed, still garbed in the blue dress they made her wear in death.

  Zoe sat up, crossing her legs under her, and wiped her cheeks with her pyjama top. “I miss you already,” she whispered.

  “I know. I miss you too.”

  “What do you need from me? I’ve wanted to ask you all day, but I couldn’t find the opportunity. Mum was watching me and…” her voice cracked, so she stopped, unable to bear any more tears.

  Nan gave a sympathetic smile. “You’ve not had an easy time of it.”

  Zoe shook her head and sniffled. “No. I haven’t.”

  Nan glanced from left to right, behind her, then took a seat next to Zoe. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I need to tell you something.”

  Zoe narrowed her eyes and shuffled closer.

  “A secret has been kept within the walls of this family for much too long. But it’s a secret that’s not mine to tell.” She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing deeply. Her eyelids fluttered, and her lips moved without a sound. Nan’s eyelids darted open again, and she whispered, “I won’t be judged well if I don’t direct you to the truth.”

  “A secret?”

  Nan stood abruptly, much faster than she would have in her last years of life, and looked down at Zoe. Her cloudy eyes were intense, her lips were pursed. “I can’t carry this burden any longer. There’s a reason you don’t feel like you fit in. Why you have gifts other family members don’t. Your parents are not who they say they are.”

  Zoe’s eyes widened. She shuffled off the bed and lifted to her feet, standing directly in front of Nan. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re not of their biology.”

  Zoe’s breathing became laboured. She blinked and tousled a hand through her hair. “I’m adopted?”

  “The secret is greater than that. I can’t say any more. You must seek the truth from those who withhold it. I have to go now.”

  The room was spinning. Zoe’s thoughts were all over the place.

  Weren't her parents really her parents?

  The air thinned, and she gulped at it like a hungry animal. What Nan was saying couldn’t be true.

  But why would she lie?

  Zoe reached out her hand to grab onto Nan’s, to ask her more questions, but before she could think about the consequences of them touching, their skin collided, and the world went black.

  Chapter 13

  Darkness. No breath. No sound.

  No tingle of air as wind whispered across the flesh.

  No sensation of movement, though Zoe knew she was walking.

  She looked down at the grey powdery dust, rippled like vast stretches of sandy desert.

  Nan was beside her, silently moving. A creeping mist pooled around their ankles. Above was a blanket of black, shimmering with a billion stars that seemed so close she could reach out and touch them.

  What the hell is happening?

  Had she gone completely, stark raving mad?

  In the distance, something glinted. As she moved closer, like a spectre along a hallway, a river of dark liquid silver came into view. The stars shone upon the ripples, catching and illuminating watery facets.

  In the river, sloshing against the banks was a rickety boat made of flaking timber. A man, about her age, stood at one end, a long wooden oar in his hand with which he anchored the boat in position.

  A red robe cloaked his body, but Zoe could still make out that he was tall and thick. His face was square with masculine features. His shiny black hair hung down to his waist.

  He looked up as she approached, his piercing blue eyes burning into hers. A slow smile teased his lips. “Welcome back, Zoe.”

  Zoe shook her head. “What’s happening?”

  “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again. You’re more aware this time—a promising sign.”

  Zoe’s eyes were wide, showing the depth of her fear. Fear for her sanity and if she had finally lost every last thread of it. “What is going on here? Where am I?”

  The man rolled his head back and laughed. His voice echoed in all directions endlessly. “I’m trying not to be offended because you don’t recognise me. It hasn’t been that long you’ve been away from home.”

  “I know you?” she asked.

  He nodded. “You know me.”

  “Home? What does that mean?”

  “It means…” he planted the pole hard into the water and spread his hands out wide, “…all this, everything, is home.”

  Zoe shook her head. He was undeniably loony. Which meant, if this were her delusion and all this was an extension of her mind, that she was really the loony one.

  She pressed her face into her palms and groaned, wishing to whoever would listen to let her wake up and have all this be a dream. She lifted her head.

  Yes, this was a dream. That’s all it was—a
vivid, incredibly realistic dream.

  “It’s not a dream, Zoe,” came the man’s voice. “This is more real than anything you’ve experienced in that dying world.” He gripped the pole again and looked at Nan with a smirk. “Speaking of humans, who do we have here?”

  Nan stepped forward and spoke. “Phyllis Irene Joseph.”

  The man glared at Zoe’s throat. His intense gaze was unsettling, and she lifted her hand to hide her neck from view, but she felt a thin leather strap, which wasn’t there before, lying flush against her skin. Her finger traced the length of it, down to between her breasts where a small leather pouch sat.

  The man’s eyes widened, a shimmering zeal in their depths. “That’s it. No coin, no pass.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Lightning flashed from overhead, illuminating the landscape. In the distance, thousands of waiflike people stared back with their pale dead eyes, visible under the shattering cracks of light.

  Zoe pressed her palms over her eyes and screamed.

  “No coin, no pass,” repeated the man.

  Zoe lifted her gaze to meet his. He was smirking. With a trembling hand, Zoe reached into the pouch and pulled out what was inside. She held the object before her face—a thick gold coin about the size of a fifty-cent piece, though the edges were smooth.

  “That’s it,” said the man. “Give it here.”

  Zoe flicked the coin to him, wanting to get away from here as fast as possible. He caught it, squeezed it between his thumb and finger, and then lifted it to his lips where he bit down eagerly. Satisfied, he pushed it into the pocket of his cloak.

  “Come, Phyllis,” he said, nodding at his boat. “We’ve got a long journey ahead of us.”

  Nan paced to the water’s edge and stepped into the boat. All the while, Zoe watched, too shocked to speak or move. She stood there, mouth agape, refuting everything she was witnessing as mere fantasy.

  “Good job, Zoe,” said the man, with a wink. “I’ll see you again soon.” He plunged the rod into the silvery depths and pushed the boat away from the shore.

  Zoe reached out. “Wait! Where are you taking her?”