Body and Soul

“Everyone is struggling in their own way,” I said, trying to find the words to convince her, to make her understand. “Whether you can see it or not. If you can’t make things better, you have an obligation to try, at least, not to make them suck more. Got it?”

“Who says?” she demanded. “God or something?”

“I don’t know,” I said wearily. I could feel my energy fading, whispering in my ear that I should stop fighting and lie down. “How about human decency?”

Erin opened her mouth to protest, but I held up my hand. “All I’m saying is your choices will come back on you. Trust me.” I sat down at the base of the nearest tree and leaned against the trunk, feeling a small measure of relief.

Erin eyed me with a frown. “But I didn’t get my chance,” she said in a small voice.

“Yeah. You did,” I said. “And you blew it by limboing a little too close to the edge. Sucks to be you.”

She glared at me.

“But the point is that if you’re determined to stick with this…with her”—I gestured at her body—“you still have the opportunity to do the right thing for someone else. A family who never did anything to you, who never cost you any portion of your life.”

She grimaced.

Yeah. Having a corporeal form was way less of a party when you had to think of other people’s feelings. Ha. Wel come to my world.

“Erin?”

She looked up startled, and I turned around to see Ed, the moonlight reflecting sharply off his glasses, stumbling through the brush toward us. Great.

“Ed? What are you doing here?” She took a step toward him and then remembered my presence and held her ground, perhaps afraid I’d take a swipe at her ankle when she walked by. And…who knows? I might have, if I could’ve summoned the effort.

He stopped a few feet away, putting me in between them, and cocked his head to one side. “Is that really you in there?”

“How did you find me?” she asked, unfolding her arms and then refolding them, as if she didn’t know quite what to do with her body in this situation.

I could imagine. She was a twin, probably used to looking at Ed and seeing some version of herself. Not anymore. He towered over her.

“I followed you from the party,” he said, studying her as if he wasn’t sure what he was seeing.

She sighed. “When you bashed your head on the coffee table because I was chasing you—”

“—you told Mom it was the dog,” he said grimly.

“Satisfied?” she asked with a smirk.

“What is…What are you doing?” He frowned.

She brushed herself off again. “Like it? It’s a new look.”

I groaned. “Were you even listening to anything I said?” I demanded.

She scowled at me and then returned her attention to her brother. “Well?”

“Who is she?” he asked finally, nodding at her body.

She jerked back, obviously not expecting that question. “What?”

“I mean, who is it?” he asked, sounding exhausted, like he’d been having this conversation, or some type of it, for years.

“It’s…it’s me.” She gave a nervous laugh. “We covered that already, remember?”

He didn’t say anything.

“Oh, come on, Eddie, don’t be such a pain. What’s the big deal? This is good for all of us,” she said pleadingly. “I can have the life I missed out on, and you don’t have to blame yourself anymore. I’m making things better, for both of us.”

So, clearly, nothing I’d said had stuck with her.

“So this is your solution, to take what you want, just like always?” His voice was deceptively calm, but even I could hear the thread of anger ru

Apparently, so could Erin. “I don’t have to listen to this.” She turned away, pointing her nose up in indignation, but she stumbled and fell again when she tried to stalk off.

“I am sorry,” Ed said in a clear, calm, angry tone.

She looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes wide with panic.

“I should have gone with you,” he said, “if only to keep you from hurting yourself.”

“What are you doing? Stop it. We don’t talk about this.” She scrambled to her feet. “We never talk about this!” She sounded outraged and maybe a little afraid.

“But the truth is, I was tired of always doing what you said, and I was starting to think for myself. And you knew it.” He advanced on her, drawing even with me. “You were losing control over me, and you wanted to punish me for it.”

“No.” She shook her head. “It was an accident!” Despite the anger in her voice, Erin was crying. I could hear her sniffling. I sympathized. I didn’t know what Erin was like, but Lily was a crier, for sure. In that body, there was no way around it. Angry, happy, sad, surprised, Lily would sob through it all.

“It wasn’t. Want to know how I know?” Ed demanded. “You’re afraid of heights,” he continued without waiting for an answer. “I could never figure out why you were on that roof in the first place. The only reason you would have gone up there was to prove something. I thought it was to those other people, the frat guys and whoever, but they wouldn’t have known what it meant for you to do that, would they? But I did.”

“It was an accident,” she repeated. “I slipped and—”

“No.” Ed shook his head vehemently. “This is just like all those other times: Cub Scouts, the science fair, prom. I wasn’t playing along, so you did whatever you thought it would take. A few bumps and bruises from a tumble off a roof, and you knew I’d make damned sure you didn’t go to another party alone, even if it meant sitting in a corner all night while you ran around talking to people.”

Holy crap.Erin had done this to herself? By accident, it sounded like, but still…that was hard-core.

“You didn’t mean to kill yourself,” Ed continued, “but—”

“Of course not!” she shouted, her fists clenched at her sides. “It’s your fault that I’m like this.” She gestured down at herself, and I had to assume she meant being dead rather than being in Lily’s body. The latter was all on her. “If you’d come with me, the way I’d asked you, the way you were supposed to, then none of this would have happened. But oh, no, Edmund always has to be difficult. Never mind what I’m trying to do for us.”

“I didn’t want to be somebody new, talking about keg stands and frat parties. I liked who we were,” he said.

“We were losers!” she snapped. “I was trying to make us better, but you’re so selfish—”

“As selfish as hurting yourself to get other people to do what you want?” he demanded.

She threw her hands up in frustration. “Like I had a choice!”

“There is always a choice!” he shouted back at her. Then he stopped, visibly making an effort to calm himself. “You made yours, and I’m making mine. You have owned me for the last five years. You let me torture myself with guilt for something youdid. But I’m done. This is mylife, and I want to live it.”

Uh-oh.I could sense some kind of change looming, like a charge in the air around us. I would have spoken up in warning, but suddenly it felt like too much effort. I didn’t bother to look down to check the progress of my disappearance. It wasn’t like it was going to be getting any better, right?

Erin seemed to sense the shift, too. She looked truly scared for the first time, and stepped toward her twin, her hands out in a placating gesture. “Eddie, wait, listen. It wasn’t like that.”

He looked at her in a cool, evaluating way that actually made me feel a little sympathy for her. “I’m sorry you’re dead, and I’m sure I’ll miss you…eventually.”

Oh, ouch.

She flinched.

He took a deep breath and tilted his face toward the dark sky above us. “I’m letting her go. She doesn’t need to be here for me anymore,” he declared.

A chill slid over my skin at his words. He and Will must have had another chat after I’d left the car.

“Edmund!” Erin shrieked, her hands flying up over her head as if to fend off some invisible force from above.