Ether

By J.S. Frankel

Teenager Sam Timmins, school outcast and total nerd, is saved one day from getting run over by the wind. Only it isn’t the wind that saves him, but a mysterious wind-sprite named Esther. The result of a botched lab experiment, Esther and her mother, Nita, the lead scientist on a matter-transportation project, now exist as wind beings. 

Sam begins a relationship with Esther, even though he cannot see or even hold Esther, but they grow as close as two people can under the circumstances.

The forces of evil, though, will not be denied. Morton Ramsay, the head of the project, needs Esther and Nita back for his own purposes. He sends his two chief henchmen, Harsky and Stutch, to intimidate Sam. When that doesn’t work, they resort to murdering his mother. 

Now, Sam is out for revenge. Aided by Esther and her mother, he finds out just who he is and what he is capable of. More than that, he finds out what science is capable of creating—and destroying.

• Language: English
• Publisher: eXtasy Books Inc
• Release date: Mar 18, 2018
• ISBN: 9781487417987

Book preview

Falling in love with a wind sprite wasn’t Sam Timmins’ idea of an ideal relationship. Running for his life from the forces of evil wasn’t ideal, either.

Teenager Sam Timmins, school outcast and total nerd, is saved one day from getting run over by the wind. Only it isn’t the wind that saves him, but a mysterious wind-sprite named Esther. The result of a botched lab experiment, Esther and her mother, Nita, the lead scientist on a matter-transportation project, now exist as wind beings.

Sam begins a relationship with Esther, even though he cannot see or even hold Esther, but they grow as close as two people can under the circumstances.

The forces of evil, though, will not be denied. Morton Ramsay, the head of the project, needs Esther and Nita back for his own purposes. He sends his two chief henchmen, Harsky and Stutch, to intimidate Sam. When that doesn’t work, they resort to murdering his mother.

Now, Sam is out for revenge. Aided by Esther and her mother, he finds out just who he is and what he is capable of. More than that, he finds out what science is capable of creating—and destroying.

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Ether

Copyright © 2018 J.S. Frankel

ISBN: 978-1-4874-1798-7

Cover art by Martine Jardin

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

Published by eXtasy Books Inc or

Devine Destinies, an imprint of eXtasy Books Inc

Look for us online at:

www.eXtasybooks.com or www.devinedestinies.com

Ether

By

J.S. Frankel

Chapter One: Ethereal

Tacoma, Washington, three more school days until summer vacation, Friday, June fifth, to be exact. Three-twenty in the afternoon.

Ten minutes to freedom, that was how long I’d have to wait. The teacher droned on about homework, summer reading lists and so on, but my focus wasn’t on her. It was on the clock. At three-thirty the bell would ring and then say goodbye to T.C. Looma High for the next forty-eight hours. After that, only three more days to go and then I could get my vacay on for a period of two months plus.

Being totally honest, I’d always hated the word vacay as it sounded pretentious. The latest fad, the latest pithy saying, nah, pass. Wasn’t interested. The only thing that interested me this summer was which novels I’d have to read and finding a part-time job.

As the teacher’s drone continued, I couldn’t tear my attention away from the second hand of the clock. Now at three twenty-two and thirty-four seconds. C’mon, c’mon...

Hey, Timmins, you got a job this summer?

My seatmate, Ronny Gordon, a short and stocky kid with red hair and a tough pug’s face, tapped me on the shoulder and repeated the question.

I whispered, Not yet.

I hear they have jobs downtown, cleaning buildings and all that.

Oh, yeah? You got one?

He cast a furtive look at our homeroom teacher, Mrs. Corson. A sixtyish spinster sort, she never seemed to run out of breath. How she managed it was anyone’s guess. She also had a wicked temper and did not like anyone disrupting her class under any circumstances.

Yeah, I’m going to work for my old man’s company, Ronnie replied, sotto voce. It’s not much, but it’s money, right?

Yeah, it is.

Yes, it was. Money was something other people had. My mother and I didn’t. She worked hard at her job. While we had a rented roof over our heads, we made do with the simplest of meals, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten in a restaurant.

In a sudden burst of noise, the bell rang accompanied by the blessed words of, Class dismissed.

Time to scoot, and everyone else took the ending of today as the day to get their party bash on. Friday was fun day. It was also date night, something that hadn’t yet happened for me.

At my locker, bits and snatches of conversations drifted over as everyone got ready to leave. Parties, future jobs, girlfriends and boyfriends and more and then there was me, left out of everything, as usual.

Life, it seemed, had two sets of people in it. On the plus side, there were the people who had a special status, as they belonged to the popular, cool crowd. On the minus side, there were the people who were on the outside looking in. I fell into the latter category.

Had it ever been any different? Rhetorical—it hadn’t, not at my old schools, and after only two months into this new hallowed hall of learning, it seemed as though the status quo would continue, summer vacation notwithstanding. Sigh...

Ronny nodded at me as he passed by, accompanied by a girl from another class. Good for him, he had an SO. It seemed everyone did. As for me, what did I have except a summer with lots of books to read and no one to spend it with?

As I turned back to my locker, I caught sight of my reflection in a girl’s compact. Sharon Linder was checking her makeup. She was a hottie, but like all the other girls, off-limits.

In that brief glance I saw my own face, the thin lips, the big beak, and the mop of dark hair that fell over my forehead. It partially hid my features, but not the one outstanding flaw in them. That flaw hit me every second of every minute, hour, and day of my life.

My right eyelid drooped, closing my eye halfway, ruining the symmetry of my face. The medical term for it was called ptosis. To me, it sounded like someone was spitting. Reasons for it included nerve damage, heredity, or accident.

In my case, I’d been born with it. Aesthetically speaking, it made me look like a perv perpetually winking at everyone. The doctors had tried fixing it—operation number three had been performed six months ago—but it still drooped, and it sucked all the way...

Have you heard about the party?

Someone talking to me? The question came again, and this time it had my name attached to it, a rarity around here. Sam, I asked if you’d heard about the party.

At the sound of the voice I turned around and found the class president, Stephanie Madison, gazing at me from her angular, pretty face. Dressed in a cream white blouse and matching skirt, she could have passed for a fashion model. With a seemingly careless yet practiced move, she tossed her long black hair back, all in a bid to emphasize her sculpted features.

Her boyfriend, Paul Nelson, a hulking six-two, two-hundred pounder who was the star of the football team, stood behind her, hands on her shoulders as if comforting her—or owning her. I couldn’t tell which. With perfectly coiffed and gelled blond hair, like his girlfriend, he had the looks of a model and the body of a god. Me, I had the looks of a pelican and the body of a stick. Thanks a lot, genetics.

Paul stared at me through cold blue eyes, sniffed the air as though something had died and then whispered to her, See you later, babe.

With a quick turn that belied his size, he strode off, parting the waves of students by elbowing them out of the way. Not overly bright, he got by on his athleticism, looks, and he had an in with a different crowd, the cool crowd. Moreover, he always did what Stephanie said. Good robots were hard to find these days.

As for Stephanie, the old saying of the best-looking people always getting the top position held true for her. At a statuesque five-ten, in addition to being the student body president, she was also the leader of the debate team, one of the smartest people in our school, and a huge egomaniac. Everything had to revolve around her. Call it being a control freak, she couldn’t stand anyone besting her at anything.

While it wasn’t her looks that turned me off, her attitude remained the issue. She loved putting people down. If a day went by without her insulting me, I considered that a good day. Now, she was here, and as usual a lazy half-smile played around her mouth.

I know that smile. It’s the smile that says screw you to anyone she doesn’t like.

Be cool. Give her nothing. What party are you talking about?

Oh, just a party I’m having at my place. It’s to celebrate summer vacation. You know, get your bash on?

Uh-huh, her upward curved lips told me all I needed to know. She was expecting me to ask if I could come. I’d fallen for that before. My first week here, she’d mentioned something about having a party, had gone to every student up and down the locker area and then stopped at my spot. Me being new, I’d asked, What time should I come?

Call it being naïve, I’d actually meant it as a joke.

Her eyes had narrowed in contempt. You weren’t invited.

After pivoting on her heel, she’d departed in the manner of a queen leaving a gathering of commoners. I heard her laughter, long and loud, as she’d sauntered off.

The rest of the student body had celebrated my ownage by ignoring me for the next few days, but also whispering in voices loud enough for me to hear about the fun they were going to have. They’d been made members of the entourage. Me, I was on the other side of the fence.

Call it a bitter lesson learned. It wasn’t going to happen again—ever. That’s cool, Stephanie. Have a great time.

Well, you know where we’ll be.

Ice would have sounded warmer, if it could speak, that is. That was it, the putdown she’d been saving up. We’ll be here and you’ll be nowhere. A number of evil thoughts ran through my head, mainly of the maim-and-destroy-verbally variety, but pith wasn’t part of my repertoire. Saying, Oh yeah? would have been beyond lame, so I said nothing.

However, something took my mind off thoughts of verbal carnage. A breeze blew by me. No... not by me, around me. It ruffled my hair, swirled around my torso and then worked its way upward to roll gently over my face. A few of the other students stopped to look on, but the breeze didn’t seem to like them, only me.

Stephanie opened her mouth, probably to toss another putdown my way, but then the breeze turned full-blown gale and went straight at her, swooshing her perfectly coiffed hair into a wild tangle. Said tangle settled in a mop over her face. She then swiped her hair back and yelled, What’s going on?

If anyone had a clue, they could tell me. Like me, they looked on in awe and wonder as the wind continued to blow in her direction and her direction only, the force of it practically ripping her blouse off. It increased in intensity and buffeted her about, almost as if a giant invisible hand had become a racquet and she a tennis ball.

With a squawk that didn’t fit with her cool character, Stephanie turned and ran. The wind continued to follow her, pushing her so hard it almost blew her off her feet. Soon, she was out of sight and then the wind subsided.

Yeah, take that! Giving her the finger wasn’t an option. Mentally, though, my middle finger was already up and extended.

Then it was over. Sure, I’d called her bluff, and while this all-too-rare moment of ownage was sweet, it still felt hollow. It had been the mini-hurricane’s doing, not mine. I was still alone. Come party time, the kids who’d been invited would be having fun with their friends there, and...

Screw it, I don’t need them. They’re not my crowd.

Chalk this experience up to one of the many lies I told myself in order to feel better about being the class nerd. It was a school rule, or so the experts said. There had to be at least one oddball, outcast and geek.

That was me. I didn’t hang with anyone. I didn’t get into trouble for using drugs or fighting. At my height, a gangly six feet and maybe one-fifty soaking wet, I was the proverbial bonerack.

Additionally, my looks confirmed my outcast status. At the age of seventeen, I was probably the only guy in my school who didn’t have a girlfriend. Girls wanted to date the jocks, the studs, and the good-looking dudes.

I didn’t fall into any of those categories. My ability in sports bit, my social skills ranked somewhere between a donut hole and a negative integer, and my only saving grace lay in acing English and American History, while scraping by in the other subjects.

As for my nickname—Droopy—said nickname had followed me through every school I’d been to. If the kids didn’t call me Droopy, they used my last name or talked to me as if I were an afterthought. School camaraderie—I just loved it... not.

My bad eye itched, another side-effect of the surgeries I’d endured. Residual nerve damage, the doctors had said. It would clear up in time, they’d said. Sure thing, but in the meantime, I had to put up with the stares and occasional insults.

More voices came from the locker area opposite mine. Storm front forgotten, everyone turned their thoughts to more mundane matters. Think Timmins is going to make it to the party?

Wouldn’t count on it.

My name, they’d mentioned my name. They wanted a reaction as well, and no reaction, no satisfaction.

Grabbing my books, I stuffed them in my backpack and walked out. The sound of their chuckles followed me as I entered the bright world of summer.

Tacoma had to be the quietest city around. Our school lay in the easternmost part of the city in a closed-off, semi-wooded area. A forest sat just beyond the front gates, and I’d often cut through there on my way home. It saved time. Walking the streets took me twenty minutes, but cutting through the forest chopped eight minutes or so off the trip.

Just as I was about to enter, a classmate said, Why are you going in there?

Was there some problem? It’s a shortcut.

At the mention of the word shortcut, his face turned white and his jaw dropped about a foot. An overweight kid who resembled the Michelin Man’s younger, more out-of-shape brother, quivered in fear. Man, that place is haunted, you know?

No.

I’d only moved to Tacoma from Washington, DC, about two months before. My father had passed away from a heart attack when I was fourteen, and my mother—she worked for a job-placement company—had been transferred here as a branch manager. Therefore, it went without saying that my knowledge of the area was less than zero.

Haunted? I asked, still not believing him.

While the pallor on his face faded, the scared look in his eyes didn’t. Yeah, man, it’s, like, ghosts are there.

Ghosts?

Like wind spirits or something. They steal your books and stuff.

After a quick glance at the forest, he shook his head violently as if trying to expel bad memories. You’re brave, man. I’d never go in there. I don’t care if anyone calls me a puss. No friggin’ way, man, and I know others wouldn’t—

When did this start?

Calmness struck, and he grew still. About three months ago, just after the accident at Melton Labs. Something like ten people got killed. I heard it’s their ghosts trying to get souls.

It was said with such seriousness I almost laughed, but didn’t. The expression on his face read a hundred percent honest. Melton Labs?

Now his head bobbed up and down like a lure in the water. They came here around three years ago, doing some kind of research. Then something happened, a fire, stuff got blown up. That’s all I know. A half-grin formed. Totally spooky, you know what I’m saying?

Truthfully, no. Thanks for telling me.

He lit out, and I entered the woods, moving along on a clearly demarcated path. I saw nothing, felt nothing save a sense of peace, and continued on home.

Perhaps his words were prophetic, as my nerves suddenly went on edge, as if anticipating an attack from the great beyond. Paranoia ruled, and I swiveled my head around, checking for intruders, but saw nothing and heard nothing and felt nothing save a faint breeze that rustled the branches and leaves.

Not a breeze, really, but a gentle zephyr, something that wrapped itself around my body, almost caressing me...

School, it had happened at school, hadn’t it? Did all breezes think alike? Did they even think? It wasn’t like they could be typed or categorized, not really. A giggle came from somewhere to my immediate left...

A giggle? Aw, hell no, this was getting weird, and the hairs on the nape of my neck stood on end. Now I was getting spooked, so feet, do your stuff! I took off, running through the forest and didn’t stop until I emerged thirty seconds later on the other side.

Sweat streamed down my face, coating my body and making my shirt cling to my back. After heaving in great gasps of air and feeling my heart hammer, irritably I shook out my shirt and wiped the sweat off my face, cursing myself for being a wuss. Nothing was there, I muttered. It was nothing.

Yeah, tell yourself more lies and hope to believe them. Something had been there. A number of scenarios ran through my mind. A student had gone there beforehand and placed a tape recorder. Yeah, that had to be it.

A second later, my mind did a flip-flop. No, it hadn’t been any recorded message. Who would want to punk me like that, placing some kind of tape recorder in a tree? I’d heard what I’d heard, and what I’d heard was someone giggle, a girl’s voice, young and playful sounding.

Forget it. I strode toward the curb, eyes straight ahead and mind fixed on getting through the next three school days without insult or injury. The street was empty, or so I thought. Too late, though, the sound of a car’s engine came through to my ears, and out of the corner of my left eye, a gray sports job bore down on me and I looked at death...

With a sudden rush, the wind returned, stronger this time, swirling around me. It was so strong, it stopped me in my tracks. Then a pair of hands pulled me back from the brink. At least, I thought they were hands. Whatever they were, the force of the pull threw me on my back. A scream came from the driver. Stupid kid, watch where you’re going!

Soon, his car faded from view.

I got up, brushing the dirt from my shoulders and back, and checking out my body. No broken bones, no scrapes, just feeling scared and shaking from head to toe. At the very least, I hadn’t pissed myself. Miracles did occur.

After I did a quick scan of the area, it seemed that no one was around. The neighbors were either at work or on vacation. Hey!

I turned around, and one of my classmates ran up to me and said, Hey, I saw what happened. You okay?

The hammering from my heart told me that I was alive, and that counted for everything. Yeah, I think so.

From the expression on his