Reunion Read Free Page B

looked at me questioningly. “Simon?”
    I followed the direction of her gaze, and saw she’d noticed the newspaper in my hands. I hastily put it back.
    â€œSure,” I said. “Whatever.”
    I figured I’d better eat while I still could. I had a feeling I was going to be pretty busy soon.

Chapter
Three
    â€œAh,” Father Dominic said. “The RLS Angels.”
    I didn’t even glance at him. I was slumped in one of the chairs he keeps in front of his desk, playing with a GameBoy one of the teachers had confiscated from a student, and which had eventually found its way into the bottom drawer of the principal’s desk. I was going to keep Father Dom’s bottom desk drawer in mind when Christmas rolled around. I had a good idea where Sleepy and Dopey’s presents were going to come from.
    â€œAngels?” I grunted, and not just because I was losing badly at Tetris. “There wasn’t anything too angelic about them, if you ask me.”
    â€œThey were very attractive young people, from what I understand.” Father Dom started shifting around the piles of paper he had all over his desk. “Class leaders. Very bright young things. I believe it was their principal who dubbed them the RLS Angels in his statement to the press concerning the tragedy.”
    â€œHuh.” I tried to angle an oddly shaped object into the small space allotted for it. “Angels who were trying to lift a twelve-pack of Bud.”
    â€œHere.” Father Dom found a copy of the paper I’d looked at the day before, only he, unlike me, had taken the trouble to open it. He turned to the obituaries where there were photos of the deceased. “Take a look and see if they are the young people you saw.”
    I passed him the GameBoy. “Finish this game for me,” I said, taking the paper from him.
    Father Dominic looked down at the GameBoy in dismay. “Oh, my,” he said. “I’m afraid I don’t—”
    â€œJust rotate the shapes to make them fit in the spaces at the bottom. The more rows you complete, the better.”
    â€œOh,” Father Dominic said. The GameBoy binged and bonged as he frantically pushed buttons. “Oh, dear. Anything more complicated than computer solitaire, and I’m afraid—”
    His voice trailed off as he became absorbed in the game. Even though I was supposed to be reading the paper, I looked at him instead.
    He’s a sweet old guy, Father Dominic. He’s usually mad at me, of course, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like him. I was, in fact, growing surprisingly attached to him. I’d found that I couldn’t wait, for instance, to come rushing in and tell him all about those kids I’d seen at the Quick Mart. I guess that’s because, after sixteen years of not being able to tell anybody about my “special” ability, I finally had someone to unload on, Father Dom having that same “special” ability—something I’d discovered my first day at the Junipero Serra Mission Academy.
    Father Dominic, however, is a way better mediator than I am. Well, maybe not better. But different, certainly. See, he really feels that ghosts are best handled with gentle guidance and earnest advice—same as the living. I’m more in favor of a sort of get-to-the-point approach that tends to involve my fists.
    Well, sometimes these dead folks just won’t listen.
    Not all of them, of course. Some of them are extremely good listeners. Like the one who lives in my bedroom, for instance.
    But lately, I’ve been doing my best not to think about him any more than I have to.
    I turned my attention to the paper Father Dom had passed me. Yep, there they were, the RLS Angels. The same kids I’d seen the day before in Jimmy’s, only in their school photos they weren’t dressed in their formal wear.
    Father Dom was right. They were attractive. And bright. And leaders. Felicia,