Never to be seen again.
So, with no signs headed our way, I made for the nearest building instead. Motioning for Buttercup to follow along, figuring we should try to look for someone who might be willing to help, and we were just about halfway there when I heard:
“So, how’d it go? Did you cry? Grovel? Promise you could do better if only they’d give you another chance?”
My gaze narrowed, as my lips pressed tightly together, watching as dorky guy came up from behind me, head bent, clump of greasy hair swooping into his face as he paused to clean his glasses with the end of his tie. And I hate to admit it, but for that split second, he actually looked really different, almost like someone you’d call, well, cute.
But like I said, it didn’t last. It was pretty much over in a flash, and a moment later, the glasses were in place, his hair was greased back, and he returned to being dorky guy again.
“Why do you even wear those, anyway?” I motioned toward his thick, nerd frames, purposely ignoring his question. I had no intention of confiding anything about my life review to him, or anything else for that matter. In fact, I couldn’t wait to get myself to the earth plane where I’d never have to see him again. I was really looking forward to that. “Can’t you just wish for better eyesight? Or maybe try to manifest a cooler pair of glasses?” I looked at him, waiting for a response, but when he failed to answer, I said, “Seriously, there are much cooler frames you could wear, fashions have really advanced in the last several—decades—you’d be amazed!” I nodded, assuring myself I was veering much closer to helpful than judgmental. Just stating the facts as I so clearly saw them. “I mean, it’s pretty obvious you haven’t been anywhere near the earth plane, since—” I scrunched my brow and squinted, he was so out of date I couldn’t even guess when he was last seen alive.
“What happened to you anyway?” I asked. “How’d you end up here? Did you go head to head with a newly sharpened number two pencil? Did you accidentally choke yourself with your tie? Or, perhaps you actually died of the embarrassment of wearing clothes like that?” I shook my head and laughed, I couldn’t help it—sometimes I really crack myself up. And even though he failed to join in, that didn’t stop me from saying, “You do know you can manifest a whole new wardrobe, right? We’re really not bound to the mistakes of our past. So go ahead, knock yourself out. Just close your eyes and ask—What would Joe Jonas wear?”
But even though that last part really got me going, like the bent-over, thigh-slapping kind of going, my laughter was soon halted by the sound of him saying, “If you have to know, it was cancer. The big bad C did me in. Osteosarcoma—or bone cancer, as most people know it. They even removed my leg in an attempt to save me, but it was too late, it’d already spread all over the place.”
I gulped, my eyes locked on his, knowing I should say something, anything, but no words would come. Telling myself he was just one of many. That this place was full of sad stories like his. Every tragic ending found its way Here. But still, it didn’t make me feel the slightest bit better. I’d had no right making fun of him like I did.
“I was well on my way to going pro too.” He shrugged. “It was back in 1999—missed the millennium, the timing couldn’t have been worse.” He looked at me and shook his head, his gaze so matter-of-fact, bearing not the slightest trace of ill will or regret. “But that’s how it goes sometimes, right?”
I nodded, weakly, I didn’t know what else to do. And even though I was curious as to just what kind of pro he was talking about, I was far too uncomfortable to ask.
I just stood there, watching as he turned, glanced at Buttercup sitting patiently beside me, and said, “Seriously? You’re bringing the dog?’
I rolled my eyes, my mood going from shamed to annoyed in a fraction of a second, as I looked all around, wondering where the hall monitors were. At my old school, you’d never get away with this kind of harassment, this kind of covert bullying and truancy. But Here, it seemed like pretty much anything goes. Like we were all on some kind of honor system or something.
Motioning for Buttercup to follow along as I turned and called out behind me, “For your information, the dog has a name—it’s Buttercup.” I glared, shooting him my best over-the-shoulder death stare. “As for the rest, well, it’s really none of your business now is it?”
I picked up the pace, eager to put some distance between us, but it didn’t make the slightest bit of difference. No matter how fast I went, he was right there beside me, looking at me when he said, “Well, I can see why you might think that, but you’re wrong. It is my business. All potential travelers must be cleared by me. I decide who gets in and who doesn’t. Think of me as the bouncer for this particular trip.”
“Dressed like that, it’s pretty much impossible to think of you as anything other than dorky guy,” I mumbled, taking a moment to roll my eyes at Buttercup, completely annoyed by his tendency to be overly affectionate toward strangers, especially this stranger. Going so far as to actually sniff, then lick dorky guy’s hand, carrying on like the worst kind of traitor.
“And another thing, this whole dorky guy thing? It ends now. I have a name, and I’d like for you to use it,” he said, appearing right before me again.
I stopped, there was no use running a race I couldn’t win. Hands clutching my plaid-covered hips when I said, “Yeah? So, let’s hear it. What would you like me to call you instead?”
“Bodhi.” He nodded, seemingly pleased with the sound of it.
“Bodhi,” I repeated, thinking that as far as names went, it was a good one. Only thing is, it didn’t work. In fact, everything about it was wrong. Bodhi conjured up images of cute, tan, surfer boys, like the ones who live in Ever’s Laguna Beach neighborhood. The kind who were pretty much the opposite of Mr. Pocket Protector with the bad hair, worse glasses, and nerdy clothes who stood right before me.
“Seriously,” he said, eyes narrowed on mine for a moment before he looked around nervously. “You have to stop this. I heard every word of that—and so did—” He paused, gritting his teeth to keep from saying anything more. His gaze locked on mine when he added, “Listen, all you need to know is that I’m your guide. I’m the one you’ve been looking for. Think of me as your teacher, guidance counselor, coach, and boss, all rolled into one. Which
means you cannot continue to talk to me like that, or to call me that. There will be consequences for that sort of insubordination. Serious consequences. So just stop—okay? My name is Bodhi, and I expect you to use it. You need to—” He hesitated, his eyes darting all around in the most paranoid way, his voice lowered to a whisper when he said, “You need to respect me, okay?”
I squinted, alerted to the undercurrent of begging that rang loud and clear, with just a pinch of paranoia thrown in for good measure.
So this is my guide, I thought, sucking in a mouthful of air, wondering what other punishments might be in store. I mean, he had no wings, no shimmering robe, no halo, nothing that indicated he should in any way be the boss of me, and yet, there it was. He was the boss of me. And despite my wanting to believe otherwise, somehow I just knew it was real. Somehow I just knew he wasn’t lying about this.
“So, you’re like my guardian angel then? For real?” I watched as he shrugged, obviously uninterested in the details. And something about him, something about the slouchy way he stood—not bad-posture slouchy—not low-self-esteem slouchy—but more like cool guy with a cool name slouchy—just didn’t fit with his overall look.
Something was weird about him.
Off.
Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
“Listen,” he said, eager to move on. “It’s my job to teach you everything, if you want to get to the next level, that is. And believe me, you have a lot to learn before you can even think about that. But, first things first—we need to get moving. Are you ready to head back to the earth plane?” He buried his hands in his pockets and looked all around, obviously as eager to vámanos out of this place as I was.
“The next level?” I eyeballed him carefully, as I walked alongside him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”