Page 45 of The Devil and His Ghost

Without hesitating, I pointed at the human-sized bat plushie. “That one.”

The worker struggled to get the behemoth of a stuffed animal down. I happily took it, ignoring the crowd of worshippers I’d gained from beating the rigged game. Instead, I met Kendyll’s bright eyes and offered her the bat, which was as tall as her with wings she could wrap around her whole body.

“For you,” I told her.

The crowd oohed and awed. Kendyll’s face turned as red as the candied apple she’d had earlier today. Still, she accepted the bat, spun on her heel, and walked away. I smirked at the sight of her embarrassment, not missing how her shoulders tightened as she hugged the oversized bat.

We’d passed the game stall on our way to the ferris wheel, and there was no missing the way Kendyll had lit up when she saw the massive black bat hanging amid the other prizes. As the majority of amusement park games were, the game was rigged. The white balloons, which were linked to the bigger prizes, were made with a different type of material than the colorful balloons. They were harder for the dull darts to actually pop, but that trick couldn’t stop me. So with five perfect throws, I’d ensured the creature of the night was hers.

I caught up to my emotionally evasive companion. When I spotted the hint of a small smile on her lips as she held the bat, my own chest seemed to swell. Perhaps it was pride for having won the thing. Perhaps it was something else.

“Thanks,” she whispered, shooting me a quick glance.

My own smile grew.

It was definitely something else.

“No biggie,” I told her, draping my arm around her shoulders.

“How do you say ‘bat’ in Mandarin?” she asked.

The question took me back to those weeks when she lived with me after leaving the mental hospital. She’d wanted to know the Mandarin word for everything. The fact that the curiosity remained, even after all this time, made that bubbling in my chest float higher faster.

“Biān fú,” I told her. She repeated the word, and I squeezed her tighter. “That’s it. Good job. Are you gonna name him?”

She pursed her full lips and held the bat out at arms length to study him. Catsper padded along the ground right beneath the shadow of the stuffed animal, staring up at it curiously. “What about Nightly?”

“Oh,” I hummed. “I like it. Nightly.”

We finally made it to the ferris wheel, which sat at the center of the park. I’d purposely waited until night fell so that the view from the top would be perfect. We climbed into the enclosed pod and sat across from each other. I had to fight my grin as Kendyll sat Nightly beside her on the bench, propping him up as though to ensure he could see and enjoy the ride, too. Catsper leapt onto the roof outside, probably to admire the scenic spin from there.

The world outside the cage began to move as more people boarded, taking us higher and higher. I watched Kendyll watch the world outside, yet an experience that used to be painful for her made her green eyes dance with wonder now.

“The best view is at the top,” I told her as the ride really began, cycling us up and down slowly.

She peered hard out of the window as our section of the wheel reached the pinnacle only to descend again. The faint breathless laugh she let out during that brief glimpse of the world below made my lungs constrict. I wanted to see and hear it again, so with a purse of my lips and a wave of my hand, my powers to bring chaos allowed me to slow the ride until it came to a stop with us at the very top.

That very chaos unfolded below as the worker tried figuring out why the ride suddenly stopped. People in line grew impatient and annoyed while some on the ride grew anxious about what was happening and how they’d get off. Their buzzing emotions all came funneling into me with an energizing high. Yet I hardly noticed since the girl across from me held me so captive.

Kendyll beamed at the kaleidoscope of colors sprinkled around us from the amusement park lights, rides, and shops below. Her smile softened, and she leaned her head on the window to take everything in. Meanwhile, I stared at a view of my very own.

Eventually, she seemed to notice we weren’t moving and turned to raise a brow at me. “Did you stop us here at the top?”

I shrugged unabashedly. “Guilty.”

She laughed and shook her head before peering below again. “Such a mischievous demon.”

My cheeks hurt from how wide my smile went. “I don’t think you could’ve said anything nicer to me.”

“Thank you for today.” She fidgeted her hands in her lap. “It was … so much better than what I’d pictured in my head.”

I went to tell her the day wasn’t over since I had one more surprise to come after this, but those words got lodged in my throat as her distant gaze seemed to tighten ever so slightly behind her glasses. Her smile took on a somber edge as she watched the ant-like people scurrying down below.

“I can read you like an open book, Ghost,” I finally prodded. “What’s wrong?”

She worried her lip while hesitant silence filled the small space. “I loved today. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun or smiled this much. It’s just …” Her brow furrowed briefly in invisible pain before smoothing out once more. “A few times, I found myself kind of sad. Seeing what I missed out on. Seeing what could’ve been.” She rested her chin in her palm, mouth behind her fingers as she muttered, “In more ways than one.”

The last comment was uttered so softly, a human wouldn’t have been able to catch it, but I’d heard her. All the possibilities of what could be consuming her thoughts filled my own. She’d lost out on a normal life—family vacations to a park like this one, family photos like the ones we’d seen people taking, happy memories devoid of scrutiny, food. Her youth spent at the mental hospital, and Satan knew what else prior to that, had ensured she’d missed out on a lot.