In Memoriam

by Michael Beaulieu

  “Wait,” I say. “What if she fails this mission and Hannashurie decides that she can’t help others while being with us and she decides to send her somewhere far away? That’s what the test must be. To see if she can still fulfill her faerie duties while being with us.”

  “It sounds plausible,” Lia says.

  Shar nods in agreement.

  “She has to accomplish her mission. She has to,” I say. My mind is racing now, no doubt bathing in whatever chemicals we produce when we’re in fight or flight mode.

  “I guess all we can do is pray,” Shar says.

  I can’t take this. The thought of Hannashurie taking January away before I even get a chance to kiss her is too much. [I should kiss her when she gets back. I’m sure she’ll kiss me back. I see how she looks at me with adoration and hunger in her eyes. I don’t know why the hell I haven’t just read her mind already to find out if she digs me.]

  “I’m not gonna sit around and pray,” I say. “I need to go help her.”

  Lia gets in my face. “Dude, you definitely should not do that. If she doesn’t do this alone then Hannashurie could send her off to Siberia and we’ll never know what happened to her.”

  “She’s right,” Juliana says.

  “Fine. But I’m gonna go hang outside of the house just in case all hell breaks loose in there and her life is in danger.”

  “I wouldn’t do that either,” Shar says.

  “Besides, you don’t know the address.”

  “Actually,” I fess up. “I do. But I wasn’t trying to read her mind. She just kept repeating it over and over and louder and louder and eventually I heard it without even trying.”

  “That’s weird. We didn’t hear it,” Lia says. Why does she always have to challenge me?

  “Well, that’s beside the point. I know where she’s gone and I’m going. I’ll just sit on the sidewalk across the street – unless I hear her screaming or see her fighting through the windows.”

  “What’s the address?” Shar asks.

  I’m not sure I want to tell her. “You’re not gonna follow me?”

  “Hell, no,” Lia says. “Not unless you call and say you need our help or we have a premonition that something really bad is going to happen over there.”

  I suppose I’ll feel a little less of this fight or flight shit if I tell them. “It’s 345 Laura Street.”

  Lia smirks. “That’s basically around the block.”

  “OK, well, I’m going. I’ll return as soon as possible.”

  “You’ll definitely be back in time to get ready for the memorial, though, right?” Shar asks as I’m about to get in the car to teleport.

  I nod. “Well, January said it shouldn’t be more than an hour so I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”

  That said, I get in the car and look around the parking lot to see if anyone’s watching. There’s nobody in sight but us so, bingo, I teleport.

  CHAPTER FORTY NINE

  JANUARY

  I appear behind the weathered, maroon brick house – 345 Laura Street – in what is a very cluttered backyard. It’s somewhat organized, but at the same time it resembles a junkyard my father took me to when I was a kid. I bet this shit belonged to the guy I’m supposed to talk into the light. In any case, there are a few wheelbarrows stacked on top of each other. There’s a bike rack with at least ten bikes chained to it. A rusting swing set complete with monkey bars and a decent-sized slide. If time wasn’t of the essence, I might try the slide. Although, the layer of dirt on it would probably stop me. So, I do my psychic fairy thing and see inside the house. I see the spirit’s aura, which is a mix of white and gray. He’s in a room upstairs. Would seem to be looking at his reflection in a large mirror.

  I also see that there are actual people home, too; An adult woman, a teenage girl and a child are in the kitchen, but not a living soul is in any of the rooms upstairs.

  It dawns on me that the people in the house might be expecting me. They must have prayed to someone asking them to get rid of the spirit or send them someone who can. If they hadn’t prayed about it then I doubt it’d be on Hannashurie’s radar.

  How the Hades am I supposed to approach this? Do I just knock on the door and introduce myself as the fairy they’ve been waiting for? Or should I just call myself a ghost whisperer? It would be nice if Hannashurie told them I was coming, but somehow I doubt that’s happened.

  Anyway, whatever I’m going to say, I ring the bell. Just once, though I hear the bell ring twice inside. Weird. This whole thing is weird. Part of me is hoping no one will come to the door. If not, then I’ll just teleport into the room where the spirit to be evicted is.

  I wait a few minutes, but they’re talking up a storm there in the kitchen so I wonder if they even heard the bell. But I think it’ll be easier if I just get in, do the job, and get out without the family being any the wiser. So, instead of ringing the bell again, I head into the backyard where I can teleport without being seen. I use my fairy sense again and confirm that everyone is still where they were ten minutes ago. Super!I teleport.

  I appear behind the spirit, who is white and gray like his aura, in fairy mode with my butterfly/ladybug hybrid wings flapping. And he’s still looking in the mirror. At least his reflection is there and he’s not staring at nothing. Now, I must get on with the show.

  “Identify yourself!” I scream at him because my voice is weaker in fairy mode. Although not as weak as you’d expect from something so small.

  The spirit whips around. He’s a tall, thin man with a full head of hair. (About two feet taller than I am in human form, since I’m only 4'8".) Looks like he’s in his eighties. Or was when he expired.

  “You identify yourself,” he says. “And what in tarnation are you?”

  I try to sound official. Like a flight attendant reciting her script about what to do if the cabin loses pressure. “I asked first, but, fine, my name is January and I’m a fairy. A fairy who’s been sent by the man upstairs to bring you to your final resting place.” OK, so I was sent by a woman, but an old geezer like this dude probably couldn’t wrap his head around the concept of multiple deities and Goddesses.

  “If you think I’m climbing into a coffin to rot you’ve got another thing coming.” He smacks a bottle of girl’s perfume off of the dresser and it smashes against the floor and shatters, allowing its nauseating scent to flood the air.

  “Hey, it’s OK,” I say as I turn back into human form. “I’m not here to put you in the ground. The furthest thing from it. I’m here to lead you to Heaven.”

  “That’s real?” He swallows hard. As I notice that, I also see that he has a large Adam’s apple.

  I give him a genuine smile. “Sure is!” OK, maybe I sound a little too cheerful now.

  “Well, I think I’ll pass. If you really want to be of assistance, help me get the intruders downstairs to leave and stay gone.”

  Guess I need to try a different approach. Act like I’m his friend. “What is your name?”

  “Leo. Remo.”

  “Leo Remo, that has a nice ring to it. And you were married, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “What was your wife’s name?”

  He lets out something of a grunt. “Jayne,” he says and frowns.

  “Did you have kids?”

  He shakes his head. “No. She couldn’t. I would’ve liked to, though.”

  “I’m sorry you weren’t able to.”

  “Thanks. Now are you gonna help me get those leeches out of here?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t. It’s not my divine mission.”

  “Figures.”

  “Can I be honest with you, Leo?”

  He shrugs. “Can’t promise I’ll believe you, but go ahead.”

  I’m not sure if he was bothered when I asked about his wife, but I have to try playing that card. “Jayne is so happy in Heaven, Leo. And she’s hurt that you haven’t come to her yet. She feels like you’re choosing this old house over her.”

&
nbsp; “That doesn’t sound right. Besides, how would you have any idea what she’s feeling when you didn’t even know her name?”

  He does have a point. Guess it’s time to turn on the lies. “I do know her. We’ve met. It’s just that, well, nobody uses names in Heaven.”

  “Oh, they don’t?” He isn’t buying it.

  “They don’t,” I say softly. Really trying to sell it.

  He scratches the top of his head. “Huh. That does sound like something they’d do up there.”

  “So, what do you say?” I give him sad eyes with a smile. Hopefully one of those will move him.

  His wrinkles move in the right direction, revealing a hint of a smile. Maybe he’s going to say yes?

  A small bright ball of light appears. Leo and I watch as it slowly expands until it becomes a portal spacious enough for one to just walk right through. Unfortunately, Leo takes a few steps backwards in the opposite direction.

  “It’s OK. It won’t hurt you. Haven’t you ever heard about people going into the light when they die?”

  “I’ve heard about people going toward the light, or even stepping into it, but I’ve never heard from anyone who’s gone all the way through.”

  “Well, something has to be a surprise, right?”

  “Why’d they send you anyway? Were all the angels busy?”

  “I have no idea. All I know is I’m here to help.”

  “I appreciate that. I do. But you can shut your fancy portal now; I’m not going through. See, you haven’t thought of something, dearie. Maybe I don’t want to be reunited with the Mrs.?” Perhaps that’s why he’s lingering in this house?

  Regardless, I’m so frustrated I stomp my foot. ‘”Why wouldn’t you?”

  “Listen, January, adult relationships are complicated. Things aren’t all black and white. I suggest you take your bothersome light and jet before I send you to Heaven.”

  Anger surges through me. And my hands burst into flames, balls of fire forming around them. Fire almost as bright as the portal.

  He steps back and raises his voice. “I see your true colors now. You’re no fairy. Not a good one anyway!”

  “You’re mistaken. It’s just a self-defense mechanism. See?” I think about kissing Emma and as the thought amuses me my hands return to normal. “So, why don’t you quit giving me lip and just tell me why you’re so attached to this house and why you don’t want to be with Mrs. Remo.”

  He pulls out a desk chair and sits down. Can you believe that, a spirit having to sit down?

  “Well?” I sit on the bed.

  He buries his face in his hands and makes what I’m going to call a growling sound.

  I want to reach over and put my hand on his shoulder to reassure him, but somehow I don’t think he’d appreciate the gesture. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. I won’t repeat it to anyone.”

  He looks at me and sighs, his forehead all wrinkled. Just as he opens his mouth to speak, the door to the bedroom opens and the woman of the house looks at me and trembles like she’s just seen a ghost. Or maybe she sees Leo and that’s why she looks totally freaked out?

  “What the hell is going on here?”

  “She can’t see me,” Leo says and smirks. “Not unless I want her to. And right now I really don’t.”

  I put my hands up – like one does when a cop points a gun at you – as I stand up. “I’m just here to help. You see that portal behind me?”

  “I see nothing behind you, miss. Just my daughter’s room. Which you will be leaving now or else –”

  “– Hey, hey, hey. No need to threaten me. Like I said, here to help. You’re being haunted right?”

  Now she looks more perplexed than angry. “How’d you know that? We haven’t told anyone.”

  I force a smile. “I’m the answer to your prayers. I’m here to send him to Heaven where he belongs.”

  “I’m afraid you’re mistaken.” She’s looking angrier by the second.

  “Why’s that?” Does she want him to stick around?

  “That man is terrorizing us. If he belonged in Heaven when he died, he sure as hell doesn’t now.”

  “Seriously?”

  “You bet your ass.”

  Fuck. That’s a complication I didn’t need. But the portal is still open for him so he can’t have been that bad.

  I raise my hand and my pointer figure. The international give me a minute signaI. Then I inhale as much air as I can and hold it in for a moment before slowly exhaling, trying to stay calm. That’s the only reason why I don’t glare at Leo right now. I don’t want my hands bursting into flames again. “I’m just here to do what I’m told.”

  “You expect me to believe that Heaven sent a girl who doesn’t look a day over fourteen to send the spirit that’s been making our lives miserable for five months to Heaven?”

  “Maybe this will help.” I switch into fairy mode. “As you can see, I’m a supernatural being. And I’m sixteen, just so you know.”

  Her jaw drops. She’s clearly never seen a fairy before and doesn’t know what to make of it. At least she’s not freaking out. “Huh. And you say you’re going to get rid of him?”

  I nod. “I am.”

  “Then I’ll leave you to it,” the woman says and walks out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

  Now I glare at Leo. “What have you been doing to these poor people?”

  He’s still sitting on the desk chair. At least he looks apologetic, mostly staring at his hands on his lap.

  He has a minor coughing fit. “Maybe just ask me why I don’t want to see the Mrs. again.” More coughing. A ghost with allergies?

  “Yes, tell me about her.” I take a seat on the bed again.

  “Well, for starters, she’s only in Heaven because she went to confession on a Saturday afternoon and was killed by a hit and run driver in the supermarket parking lot an hour and a half later before she could sin again.”

  “She wasn’t a good person then?” This is interesting.

  “We were married for fifty two years. That’s a long time, isn’t it? And for fifty one years we got along fine. I wouldn’t say famously, but it’s not like we bickered all the time. Anyhow, it was the fifty second year that ruined everything.” He stops talking, looks at his lap again and shakes his head. Whatever happened that year, he certainly regrets it.

  I’m curious, but I’m also starting to sympathize with him. “OK, I’ll bite. What happened during year fifty two?”

  “We stopped having relations.” More head shaking. “Do you follow?”

  “Yes. I know what it means.” My face feels flushed now.

  “Well, we never had a problem in that department. At least nothing a little blue pill couldn’t solve. But I guess she got tired of waiting thirty minutes for it to kick in.”

  “So, she had an affair?”

  He nods. Shakes his head a couple more times. “With a priest, no less.”

  “You mentioned confession, so I’m guessing you mean Catholic?”

  Another nod. “That’s why I don’t think her confession should count. I mean, if you’re committing adultery – a mortal sin – with a priest, I don’t think that priest should be able to absolve you of a damn thing.”

  “I agree.” Definitely not liking his wife.

  “Good. But that’s not the worst thing she did. That Saturday before she went off to do the deed and repent, she crushed up some of her Xanax and dissolved it in my morning coffee. I’d known about the affair since I’d seen them out together, making out in his car a week earlier. Needless to say, my attitude towards her changed after that. She knew that I knew and she wanted me out of the picture anyway so she tried to kill me. My own wife. But, see, I knew that she knew I knew. So, when I started to feel dead tired after my joe, I knew something wasn’t right. Either I was having a heart attack or a stroke or she was murdering me. I dialed 911, told them it was one of those three things. They said an ambulance would be right over. I had the good sense to go open the f
ront door so they’d be able to get in. Unfortunately, that was the last thing I did. I collapsed, my heart stopped and that was the end of me. Before they even got here. They tried CPR and various injections, but I was already whatever I am now, standing beside my body, watching them. And I’ve been here ever since.”

  “Wow...” What can I say to that? “I’m sorry.”

  “You and me both, kid.”

  “And it was that same day, she was hit and died, too?”

  He shakes his head yes a few times. “Some kind of poetic justice, right there.”

  “How did you find out what happened to her if you were stuck here?”

  “When I first died, I saw her. A vision or something. Saw how her day was going. You know, after she’d left me to die. Had to watch her and the priest have sex then confession and everything. What a joke! Couldn’t figure out why I was being tortured like that. Not until the car hit her in the Market Basket parking lot and she went soaring thirty feet, busting her head open when she landed on the hood of some poor guy’s Impala. Next thing I knew, I woke up at the kitchen table, like I’d just dozed off while reading the paper. And there was a hot cup of joe right there waiting for me.”

  “Maybe karma is real,” I say. “And how long have you been stuck here now?”

  “Twenty six years.”

  “That’s a looooong time.” A whole decade longer than I’ve been alive.

  “You’re telling me.”

  I can’t sympathize with him too much after what the woman said. “Have you always haunted people?”

  “Just the ones that come to live in my house.”

  I sigh. “That woman who lives here now seemed pretty upset.”

  “The worst thing I’ve done to this family is move things around when they’re not home.” He looks at me and smirks.

  “Like what?”

  “Putting the rocking chair where the recliner was and vice versa. Taking milk out of the refrigerator and leaving it on the counter. Maybe I went too far when I took out her best lingerie and laid it out on her bed. She did freak out when she came home to that.”

  I start to laugh but stop myself. I need to be serious here. “You ever think maybe that’s why you’ve been stuck here so long?”