Judges

Chapter Eight

1994

"I'm so proud! You made Honor Roll once again, you smart girl!"

I join my parents in the dining room and sit at the table. The room is empty except for the three of us, and I feel amazingly calm for the first time today. Even though I didn't earn Honor Roll, and the real Augusta earned it, I feel proud of myself as my parents are proud of me. I think of them as my parents, I have Augusta's memories of them. I took over her body to judge Jared, but I still love these kind people. They are so easygoing and loveable; I can't help but think of them fondly.

It's so odd, to have someone else's memories. Even though I know I didn't actually experience these things, I remember riding my first bike, going to Canada with Dad, getting dropped off on my first day of Pre-K with Mom, and I remember these things like I did them myself, except I didn't, and these people are not my parents, even though they are and I love them.

My mother sets out the dinner, spaghetti, and takes her seat directly across from me as Dad sits down and serves himself some bread.

"So how was school today? Was Julia there?"

"No, she was sick today." Julia is my best friend, ever since I was six, and we spend pretty much every day together. Except for this weekend she contracted a fever and has stayed home. "She was feeling terrible this whole weekend. Maybe I should give her a call after dinner."

"Yes, honey, you should check on her."

We all sit silently, as usual, for the rest of dinner, and Mom and Dad each pull out a book and a newspaper, respectively. They are all about "expanding their literary knowledge," even at dinner, and this is especially important in the Hayes household, because of my father.

Richard Hayes, my father, is a writer for the local newspaper. He has graying hair and a beard, and is very tall. He wears glasses all the time and his hair is constantly in his face. However, I know, despite his bookish looks and quiet demeanor, he is very sporty and plays soccer in the park every Monday and Thursday with a bunch of local college students.

My mother, Angela Hayes, is a teacher. She is constantly researching something new to teach her history students, and this way I have easy A's in my history courses. She also likes cooking on the side. I look a lot like her, with her wavy and unruly hair and tall stature, but the difference is in her green eyes and my brown ones.

"Mom, can I go to the park?" I ask suddenly, and Angela looks up from her book and her plate of half-eaten spaghetti.

"You've barely eaten, Augusta. Are you sure?" She glances at my plate. "I guess you've eaten enough to go..."

"Yeah, mom, I just realized I promised a friend that I'd try and be there. A couple of friends just wanted to meet up and chat."

"Nothing bad?" chimes Dad, and I shake my head in response.

"Nothing bad is going on, just a few girls. I promise I'll be back before eight."

"Okay, sweetie, have fun!" My mom looks back down at her book as I clear my plate and slip out the door, not to meet a few friends at the park. I'm going to the park because I think he will be there.

I grab my bike and ride on the sidewalks for five minutes, heading south to the nearest park, halfway between the school and my house. I think that Jared lives somewhere around here, he might be there, I hope he is. The air is crisp and cool, nice and relaxing, and refreshing. I actually kind of enjoy the ride, and I arrive at the park as the sun begins to set. I have half an hour to burn before I have to be home.

I park my bike at a rack, and it doesn't take long to find Jared sitting in the shade of an oak tree nearby. He looks up as I step on the leaves near the path, and closes his notebook.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to apologize. I totally yelled at you today, and I get that it wasn't cool."

"It's fine."

I sigh. "No, it's not, I was having a crappy day."

"I could tell."

"And, anyway, I need to tell you the answer to your legitimate question."

He stands up from his shady spot. "What? About the funeral? I knew I saw you there, I realized I'd seen you before, it was weird..."

"Yeah. I need to be honest." I look at him. "I was there.  Not for your mom, but for a guy named John Wright. I think he was a friend of your mother's."

His eyes narrow. "Yeah, he was. But how do you know him?"

I sigh. Should I tell him the truth? He wouldn't believe me. It wouldn't make a difference, in the scheme of things. But I'd be breaking about a thousand rules.

But it would be the truth.

"I'm dead," I blurt, "I was at the funeral for John."

"What? Are you joking? This isn't funny." He glares at me. "I thought you actually were sorry, for like, screaming at me today."

"No..." This is backfiring. "I am. Please listen. I'm dead. That's why I changed, I'm a ghost. I was there to.." I trail off; he's glaring at the ground.

"Prove it."

I disappear for a minute, into the air, like I do when I think. I watch him swing at the air, gasp, and squint. He sits and starts to breathe heavily, and I reappear right in front of him.

He gasps. "You were... serious."

"I was."

 "My mother was native American. She told me, before she died, that she saw an angel with flaming hair stand by her bed with John one night, and we thought she was crazy. But then I saw you, and I thought I was hallucinating. But I wasn't, was I?"

I shook my head. "I remember your mother. She had a very soft voice but when she spoke, she commanded the whole room. John really cared about her, I knew him well."

"He did, didn't he? I wish he was my dad. He moved to Seattle after she died, and my dad is all alone now. He rarely talks to me anymore." He shakes his head. "Is this a dream?"

"I'm a judge, Jared. I'm usually invisible, and you can't hear me or feel me, but I watch you and decide if you're good or bad, and where you should go for the afterlife. I watch your actions because... we can't read your thoughts and truthfully, that's inconvenient." I laugh. "I just have to be human for once because the person I'm assigned to is... difficult to understand."

"Who are you supposed to judge? Me?"

"No." I lie. "Someone else. I can't tell you who." I have to leave, it's getting late. "I have to go." I run to the bike rack and grab my bike, and pedal off before he can chase after me and demand more answers.

I make up my mind that Jared is a handsome boy.