The Ghost and Little Marie

by Anna J. McIntyre

  “So what do vain girls and antismoking campaigns have in common?” Walt asked.

  Attempting to smooth out the wrinkles in the fabric of her faded pajama bottoms with one hand while holding her mug of coffee in the other, she glanced up to Walt. “Because smoking prematurely ages and wrinkles your skin. I say show vain girls before and after pictures of women who’ve smoked.”

  “You forget, Danielle, a teenager never imagines that would be them.”

  Cocking her head slightly, she studied Walt a moment. “How about you, Walt? If you knew then what you know now, would you quit smoking?”

  “You mean if my fairy godmother showed up and said I had a chance at life again, would I keep smoking?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Not that I believe in fairy godmothers, but if I had another chance at life, I suspect I’d cherish it too much to want to do anything to shorten it.”

  “Why is it we never truly appreciate something until we lose it?”

  “Human nature, I suppose.” Walt shrugged. “Did I ever tell you how I used to smoke buggy whips?”

  “Buggy whips?” Danielle grimaced.

  “Buggy whips were made from hemp. I remember George and I were just kids at the time. Some of the older boys had showed us that if you cut a whip into small pieces, you could smoke it, like a cigarette.”

  “Yuck!”

  Walt chuckled. “We felt pretty grown up, until one of my grandfather’s employees caught us down at the beach smoking. He showed us how black and nasty the inside of one of those pieces were, and told us we were taking all that into our lungs. Was the end of our smoking—for a while.”

  “I don’t imagine smoking cigars were much of an improvement—health wise.”

  Walt shrugged and then waved his hand for another lit cigar.

  With a sigh, Danielle pulled her bare feet up on the sofa and snuggled down comfortably as she sipped the coffee. They sat in silence for a few moments, each lost in private thoughts.

  “Why did you say you wish Marie hadn’t gone over to Seaside Village without talking to you?” Walt asked a few minutes later.

  “Because the chief called me this morning. He wanted to come over and talk to Marie, ask her some more questions. I told him I’d call him back after I talked to her, make sure she’d be here. Unlike you, she’s not a captive audience.”

  “I see…” Walt blew a series of smoke rings—eight total. They drifted to the ceiling.

  “Now you’re just showing off.”

  Walt chuckled. “I have to admit, I had to use a little spirit energy to do that.”

  Danielle repositioned herself on the sofa and rested her half-empty mug of coffee on one knee. She looked at Walt. “So tell me. What were you really doing sitting in front of the computer a minute ago? It looked like you were getting ready to type.”

  “I want you to teach me how to use the computer,” Walt announced.

  “Teach you to use the computer?” Danielle frowned.

  “Yes. Why are you looking at me like that? You think I’m too mired in the past I can’t learn how to use one of your modern contraptions? I figured out the television fast enough.”

  “Umm…well, a computer isn’t exactly a television.” Danielle leaned forward for a moment and set her mug on the coffee table. She then sat back in the sofa again and studied Walt.

  “That’s not what you once told me.”

  “Why do you want to learn how to use the computer?” Danielle asked.

  “Why not? You once told me it was a little like a library. I always enjoyed visiting the library.”

  “We’re sitting in the library,” Danielle teased.

  Walt rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

  “You hate when I do that,” Danielle scoffed.

  “Do what?” Walt frowned.

  “Roll my eyes.”

  “Come on, Danielle, I’m serious. And I would like to have an email account.”

  “Email?” Danielle choked out, trying her best not to start laughing.

  “Certainly. While I can call someone on the telephone—the person on the other side can’t hear me. But if I could send them an email, I could communicate with the outside world while still being confined to this house.”

  “You want to communicate…with the living world…via email?”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Walt asked in all seriousness.

  No longer able to hold back, Danielle broke into laughter. “A ghost with an email account,” she said between sputters of laughter.

  “You know what I think about the word ghost.”

  It took Danielle a moment to regain her composure. When she finally did, she said, “I know. But you have to admit, saying a spirit with an email account doesn’t sound nearly as funny as a ghost with an email account. Maybe I could turn it into a book.”

  “Book?” Walt frowned.

  “Sure. I always wanted to write a book…The Ghost Who Sent an Email.” Danielle started laughing again.

  Narrowing his eyes, Walt glared at Danielle. “This really isn’t that funny. I don’t know why you’re so amused.”

  With tears of laughter in her eyes, Danielle glanced over at Walt and noticed he really did seem annoyed. Forcing herself to stop chuckling, she wiped the moisture from her eyes and smiled sheepishly at Walt. “I’m sorry. It just really tickled my funny bone. The entire thing seemed so…so…”

  “You don’t think it’s a good idea?” He sounded disappointed.

  Once again calm, Danielle took a deep breath. “Actually, it’s rather brilliant.”

  “Brilliant?”

  “I don’t know why we never thought of it before. I mean, there have been times when you needed to contact someone from the outside world…like when we were hijacked. And an email would be the ideal solution.”

  “Then why all the laughter?” he asked.

  Danielle shrugged. “I guess because on the surface, it seems rather bizarre. But it has potential.”

  “Does that mean you’ll teach me how to use the computer?” Walt asked excitedly.

  “I suppose. You want a lesson now?”

  “Yes!” Walt stood up. “Can you set me up an email account?”

  “Umm…sure.” Danielle stood up and walked over to the computer with Walt. “Now that I think about it, there are a number of people you could correspond with. Lily, Ian, Heather, Evan, the chief, Chris…”

  “What do I do first?”

  “Why don’t we just start with me turning on the computer and opening my email account. I’ll send an email to Lily and you can watch. It’ll give you an idea of what you need to do before I start taking you through the steps.” Danielle sat down in front of the computer. Walt stood behind her, watching.

  A few minutes later, after Danielle opened her email account, she called out, “He wrote again!”

  “Who?” Walt leaned down and looked at the monitor.

  “Your cousin. He’s sent me another email.” Danielle opened the email from Walt’s cousin. Together, Danielle and Walt silently read the letter.

  I was rather bummed that you turned down my offer so quickly. I would like you to reconsider. Walt Marlow is nothing to you, but he is in essence my namesake and a cousin. Not to mention the fact he could be my twin. I understand you run his house as an inn, so I guess you see the portraits as some sort of prop. I notice you’re big on exploiting his misfortune on your website to bring in business. While I question how you managed to end up with my cousin’s estate, you really have no business keeping those portraits. They should remain in the family. However, I am willing to compromise. I am still offering the thousand dollars for both portraits, but I am also willing to commission an artist to duplicate the portraits, and your guests will never know the difference. I would have written as soon as I received your email, but I wanted to find an artist qualified to duplicate the portraits. I have. Please let me know when we can finalize this transaction, I would really like to have it completed b
efore my wedding. Clint Marlow.

  “Wow,” Danielle stammered. “Your cousin is kind of a jerk.”

  “He seems convinced you’re going to just fold and do what he wants.”

  “I suppose I can kind of understand.” Danielle closed the email and turned around in the chair to look at Walt.

  “What do you mean?”

  “If your spirit wasn’t here—if we had never met—I probably would agree with him. Those portraits belong in the Marlow family.”

  ‘They belong to me!” Walt snapped.

  “I understand. And I have no intention of selling them. I’m just saying I sort of get what he was saying.”

  “Aren’t you going to write him back, tell him you aren’t interested?” Walt asked.

  “I will. But I want to think about what I want to tell him.”

  In the next moment Marie appeared in the library, standing next to Walt.

  “Marie!” Danielle said in surprise.

  “I must say it is exhilarating, moving from one place to another without a cane or walker! Or even an automobile!” Marie beamed.

  “Did you find out anything to help the investigation?” Danielle asked.

  “Unfortunately, no,” Marie said with a sigh. She and Walt each moved to a chair, while Danielle sat back down on the sofa.

  “I’m glad you’re back. The chief wanted to come over and ask you some more questions.”

  “I really hoped I could track down that woman who saw my killer.”

  “You mean the spirit?” Danielle asked.

  “Yes. But I didn’t see a glimpse of her anywhere.”

  “Maybe she has moved on,” Danielle suggested.

  “Which won’t help me!” Marie reminded them. “I need to find out who over there killed me before the chief pins this on someone in my family. I’m starting to regret pushing for the autopsy.”

  “Marie, if it is someone from Seaside Village, we need to start with the people you had contact with over there—especially anyone who might have had an issue with you.”

  “My first thought was Crazy Earl, but as you mentioned before, he seems to be confined to a wheelchair, and it was footsteps I heard that night, not a wheelchair.”

  “What about some of the other patients? One that had the password to the back door,” Danielle suggested.

  “I never really socialized with anyone over there.”

  “What about the woman you used to visit at night?” Danielle asked.

  Marie frowned. “What woman?”

  “One of the permanent residents. She told me you used to visit her room at night.”

  “I never visited anyone’s room at night.”

  Twenty-Eight

  “Walt with an email account?” Lily considered the possibility as she sipped a cup of hot green tea. She sat with Danielle on the front porch swing. The chief had left a few minutes earlier after interviewing Marie—with Danielle playing spirit interpreter.

  “It really is ingenious. I’m not sure why we didn’t think of it before.” The toe of Danielle’s right shoe gently pushed the ground, keeping the swing in motion.

  “Couldn’t he also use the landline?” Lily asked.

  “The landline?”

  “Sure. He can use his energy to pick up the receiver, dial out. Maybe he couldn’t call me, but he could call Heather or Chris. Why didn’t we think of this before? He could call you on your cellphone when you’re out and he needs to get ahold of you!” Lily said excitedly.

  Danielle shook her head. “Because it doesn’t work that way. What I’m hearing when Walt or Marie talks, well, that sound isn’t carried to me in the same way as your voice is. It’s hard to explain, but I’m not using my ears to hear Walt.”

  “So if Walt talks into the telephone, and you’re on the other end of the line, you won’t hear him?”

  Danielle nodded. “Pretty much.”

  Lily let out a sigh. “I suppose the email is a rather brilliant way to get around that. I know one person who will love this. Ian. I can see it now. He’ll be on the computer more than he already is, bombarding Walt with questions.”

  Danielle chuckled.

  “Oh my gosh,” Lily gasped. “He can’t be the only ghost who’s thought of this!”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Using energy to manipulate a computer in order to communicate with the living! Who’s to say all the tweets out there on Twitter are coming from living people?”

  Danielle giggled. “You saying there are a bunch of spirits sitting around sending out tweets?”

  “It could be true! What about public forums?”

  “Public forums?” Danielle frowned.

  “Or Facebook comments? Maybe some of those are from ghosts!”

  “A ghost with a Facebook account?” Danielle asked.

  “And why not? Walt’s getting an email account! Who knows, maybe a bunch of those internet trolls and bullies are really pissed-off ghosts!”

  Danielle chuckled. “Calm down, girl. I think you’re getting carried away.”

  “I don’t know.” Lily shrugged. “The next time I’m online and talk to a stranger, I will not only wonder if it’s really a serial killer, I’ll now wonder if it’s a dead person.”

  “Seriously, when you chat with someone online, you wonder if they’re a serial killer?”

  “Don’t you?” Lily asked. “Especially when I post at one of those political sites.”

  “While it all sounds interesting, the truth of the matter is, finding a spirit online is more an anomaly.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “First of all, I believe the percentage of spirits lingering on this plane compared to living people is a small fraction. Most spirits move on.”

  Lily gestured behind her. “You say that, but there are two ghosts inside the house right now. And I know of one hanging out at Pilgrim’s Point, another at the cemetery, and then there’s Eva, not to mention all the other ones who’ve passed through here in the last year and a half.”

  “True. But those other spirits that passed through have since moved on, and none of them could harness their energy like Walt has—therefore they wouldn’t be able to use a computer.”

  “Are you saying there aren’t any spirits like Walt out there, who have harnessed their energy enough to use a computer?”

  “Spirits capable of moving objects like Walt does are typically confined to one location. And those spirits are normally confused, like Lucas was before he came here. After Lucas was killed, his spirit got stuck in an office building. Heck, he had access to computers, and unlike Walt, he knew how to use them. But he also didn’t understand he was dead. He was confused, in a fog. His ability to move objects was confined to pushing over a waste basket or slamming a door. That’s typically where those types of spirits are at.”

  “I never really considered all that.”

  “So you feel better now?” Danielle asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Now you don’t have to worry about being harassed online by ghosts.”

  “Ha-ha,” Lily said dryly, and then broke into a giggle. “Yeah, I do feel a little better about it. But now you need to get Walt a cellphone.”

  “What would Walt do with a cellphone?”

  “He could text message.” Lily grinned.

  “Is he going to wait?” Chloe asked Warren when he got off the phone. They were alone in the master bedroom at Marie’s house.

  “I talked him into holding off until Wednesday. I explained her funeral was Tuesday, and we couldn’t do anything until we have Mother’s death certificate. Which isn’t entirely true.”

  “Did you tell him that was the day they’re reading the will?” she asked.

  “Hell no!” he roared. “I’m not crazy. I didn’t tell him Mother had another will made. As far as he knows, I’m still inheriting half of her estate. And maybe I am.”

  “Or maybe you’re not,” Chloe snapped.

  “But for now, he figures eve
n if I don’t have the death certificate by Wednesday, I can go to the bank and use my inheritance as collateral.”

  “He’s threatening to call in the loan before you can get your inheritance? He actually expects you to take out another loan?”

  “Like you said, I may not even have an inheritance. And if that’s the case, then we’re screwed.” Dejected, Warren sat on the edge of the bed.

  “Money is the least of our problems,” Chloe reminded him. “I really don’t want to get sent to prison for your mother’s murder. Do they still have the death penalty in Oregon?”

  Jason stood alone in Marie’s garage, the cellphone by his ear. He hadn’t bothered turning on the light, but daylight made its way in the side window, its venetian blind partially open.

  “I’m not sure when I can get back. Not with the ongoing murder investigation…I suppose if I want to look on the bright side, I don’t have to worry about losing my job, since I already did that…no…I haven’t told Sondra yet…Hell no, my parents would be the last ones I’d tell about getting sacked. I thought I had this all under control.

  “She had even more money than I thought. Did I tell you she sold her parents’ old house for over a million bucks?…Yes, you heard me. Over a million, and she owned it free and clear…No. I don’t think we’ll get that much for the house she lived in, but she has five other houses in town…I know!…I was so looking forward to that nice little nest egg. But now with Grandma changing her will, I might end up with nothing.”

  When Adam walked into Marie’s house on Saturday afternoon, he found Sondra alone in the living room on her cellphone. The moment she saw Adam, she abruptly ended her call and shoved her cellphone in the pocket of the hoodie jacket she wore with her fitted blue jeans.

  Adam didn’t think much of the abruptly ended phone call, but he did notice Sondra’s bare feet propped along the edge of Marie’s coffee table. Grandma would hate that, Adam thought.

  “Good morning,” Sondra greeted him.

  He glanced around. “Where is everyone?”

  “Your parents are in their room, and Jason went outside. I saw him go into the garage.”

  Adam walked over to a chair and plopped down. “I wanted to talk to them about Grandma’s funeral on Tuesday.”