Bein' Dead Ain't No Excuse

by Penny Burwell Ewing

  He raised a brow. “Are you blackmailing me?”

  “Of course not. I’m merely speculating. However, what would the Council of Noble Purposes say about your miscalculation?”

  He made a snorting sound of disbelief. “You wouldn’t dare approach the Council.”

  “Try me,” I blustered, and then wondered if I shouldn’t back off a mite. His face matched his thatch of red hair.

  The doorbell sounded, breaking the building tension between us.

  “Ah, they’re here,” he said in a calm voice. “Now we can get to the bottom of this and perhaps find a working solution for everyone involved.”

  “Which is getting me back home and Scarlett on to Scotland.”

  Scarlett, still dressed for Earth, came into the kitchen. Sonya trailed behind in her Mrs. Santa Claus duds. She stood awkwardly facing Saint Peter. Her merry eyes had lost their twinkle, and I felt kinda sorry for her. Poor ole gal.

  Scarlett slid up next to me. “So this is where you disappeared to,” she whispered. “Really, Jolene, you could’ve left a note.”

  Saint Pete placed a gentle hand on Sonya’s sagging shoulders. “You’re losing your delicate touch, my dear, and I’m afraid it’s time for a change. I can’t have my best Death Angel missing the mark. How about a long vacation on the planet of your choice? When you get back, the Council will have made a decision regarding your next assignment.”

  “I’m sorry, Boss. I don’t know how I could’ve miscalculated my aim. I had the subject in my sights, and then poof, this brash, young woman screwed up the shot.” She turned and gave me the evil eye. “These days young people don’t know how to mind their own business. I swear the Earth is in need of another good flood. That would teach the upstarts to stay in their place.”

  I stuck my tongue out at her in response. Scarlett gave me a swift kick under the table, and I shot her a bird.

  Saint Pete went on, “You’re dismissed, for now, Sonya. Report to Personnel for additional instructions.”

  The former Death Angel gave me and Scarlett one last baleful glare, and then spun on her black patent leather pumps and disappeared out of the kitchen.

  With Sonya’s exit, he turned his attention on Scarlett. “Now that I’ve dealt with Sonya’s flop, it’s your turn. Once again, you broke the rules, and I’m sending you to the Peace Corps for a long, extended stint. If they can’t whip you into shape, then you’ll be referred to the Department of Transportation for your departure to Saturn. The rings are due for a cleaning, and you’ll be perfect for the job.”

  She fluttered with dismay. “Please, Boss, you have no idea what I go through dealing with Jolene. She’s stubborn and strong-willed.”

  “Oh, I think I have some idea of what you’re experiencing, Scarlett,” he said with a sigh of impatience. “Especially since you display the same attributes. You’re a thorn in my side.”

  “I broke no rules,” she began, and was silenced with a look.

  I remained the silent observer. To be honest, the long, confusing trip was beginning to tell on me, and I stifled a yawn with the back of my hand. Weakness washed over me, and I felt a sudden anxiety I’d never experienced before in my physical life. Something was up. Something bad. My senses spun, and I laid my head down on the glass surface. I only listened with half an ear until Pete said, “I’ll check the situation out for myself. Stay put. I’ll be back in a flash.”

  I lifted my head to find Scarlett staring at me. “You beat everything, you know, Jolene? I should’ve kept my mouth shut about your momma being on the list. Next time, I’ll just mind my own business!”

  “There won’t be a next time.”

  “Oh, yeah. I forgot. You’re dead.”

  “I am—dead—aren’t I?”

  “Appears so.”

  “Does it take long to adjust?”

  She waved a dismissive hand. “Not for most normal people like me.” There was arrogant pride in her voice. “However, I suspect you might take a little longer. You’re stranger than most.”

  “My family would agree with you.” I swallowed back a sob. “Damn, Scarlett. My family. Lilith is out to seduce Roddy. Just before she pulled the plug, she bragged to me how she’s going to destroy their marriage. I failed, Scarlett. I let down my family.”

  Scarlett drifted over to the table and sat in the chair across from me. “No, we failed. We’re partners in this crazy situation, and I share the blame. Don’t be too hard on yourself. And really, Heaven isn’t so bad. Even without sex. The weather never changes, and you get to explore the universe on your time off. I particularly love the Galaxy Mountains on horseback at this time of year.”

  I feigned a smile as my gaze swept the kitchen. “Where’s Pete? Isn’t he back yet?”

  She let out a strained laugh. “It takes a little while to see if he can get your life back.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Dream Weaver

  “I’m starved.” I strode over to the pristine white cabinets and rummaged through them until I found a box of crackers. “I’m sure Pete won’t mind if I have a small snack while waiting for him to return with the verdict.” I set the box down on the butcher block counter, and opened the icebox and found a block of cheese and the pitcher of tea. I set them both on the counter next to the box of crackers and turned to Scarlett. “Join me?”

  “Must you continue to refer to him as Pete?” Her tone reflected her displeasure. “His rank as Saint entitles him to a certain amount of respect. However, bein’ dead ain’t no excuse for bad manners.”

  I fixed a plate of crackers and cheese and sat down at the table across from her. “He’s not complaining,” I pointed out. “Besides, if I’m a royal pain in the ass, they’ll be more likely to send me home.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t count on it. You’re here to stay, Claiborne.”

  Thankfully Saint Pete interrupted our lively discussion. My patience had all but taken a hike, and I wasn’t in the mood for a boxing match with Scarlett. Every second away from home meant greater danger for Billie Jo and Roddy’s marriage, and I was aching to join the living—although I hadn’t figured out how to drive Lilith away.

  “Well, I have news,” he said without drama, and without a smile. “It cost me a promotion, but at least I’m not being demoted. Although, because of this debacle, there’s another note of reprimand in my file.”

  “And?” I asked with bated breath, not at all interested in his latest putdown. “What’s the verdict? Am I stuck here?”

  He joined us at the table. The tension eased from his face, however, his eyes remained sharp and focused on me. “It took all I had to convince the Council to reverse its ruling, but you’ve been granted a reprieve. Scarlett, too.”

  A sigh of relief slipped out as I contemplated his words. I stood to my feet. “How do I get back?”

  “Have a seat,” he ordered. “There are a new set of rules. And I mean follow them this time.” He directed a stern glance at Scarlett. “No wavering. The Council is adamant on this. Obey or pack your gear for Saturn. Got it?”

  Her eyes blazed, but she inclined her head in compliance. “I’ll do my best, but by now you realize how hard it is to keep her,” she jerked her head toward me, “in line. I don’t believe it’s fair of the Council to hold me responsible for her actions.”

  “Never mind about that, Scarlett, just pay attention. Your future depends on you getting this right.” Saint Pete pulled a crisp white sheet of parchment from his inside jacket pocket. “No interruptions while I outline the rules. I’ll answer your questions afterward. Okay, here are the new and final set of rules you must abide by or face permanent banishment from Heaven. This comes all the way from the highest authority, so pay attention. This is a one-time dispensation never to be repeated henceforth.” He rolled out the parchment. “Rule number one applies only to you, Jolene.”

  I leaned forward with an eager face and an open ear. No way was I going to screw up this last chance to save Billie Jo and Roddy’s
marriage. Sure, I wanted to return to the living, but mostly I wanted to save my youngest sister the pain and humiliation of a nasty divorce. Plus, there was another life at stake—her baby. Giving one’s life was a small sacrifice to give him or her a happy, secure home life with two committed parents.

  He continued, “You have been granted three short moments of physical manifestation into the corporeal dimension…”

  I gasped with the impact and quickly clamped a hand over my mouth at his stern expression. Scarlett looked as if she’d swallowed a sour lemon drop.

  “…to enlist help from your family members. However, because this action will require a great deal of life energy, the negative influence on your physical body will be substantial. In fact, it could destroy the remaining life energy you still have so think before you act.”

  Shocked, I blurted out, “How is that possible? I’m here.”

  “Technically, yes, you are,” he replied. “However, as I just stated, this is a one-time event. It was arranged in the earthly dimension for the doctors to continue life-saving measures on your physical body long after they should’ve called your death. In human terms, you are now experiencing a near-death event. Your family is at this moment gathered together in the ICU waiting room for an update from the doctors. If I’ve answered your question, I’ll continue with the rules. Time is short, and I need to get you both to the train station.”

  Thrilled with the news, I clamped my jaw shut and clasped my hands in my lap to still the excitement. Scarlett offered no comment, just stared at me with undisguised jealousy.

  “Again, I caution you to use your physical manifestations wisely. Each event has consequences, and will only last for five minutes at the most. Five minutes, Jolene. Remember that fact. You can appear in solid human form for the equivalent of fifteen minutes. During your time in the corporeal world, you are bound by physics like any other human. If a human can’t do it, neither can you.” He lifted two fingers. “Rule number two. You may seek the help of a psychic or medium. I checked the books, and Madame Mia is on the list of approved spiritualists. If she’s willing to listen and advise, go for it.

  “Number three. Forget the Golden Rule. Do whatever it takes to extract Lilith from her chosen lair. There will be no accounting of wrongdoing. Show no mercy. Just get her gone. Number four. Use the swords of light wisely.” Here he looked up from the parchment and eyed us both. “Yes, you will both be issued a temporary carry license. However, please be careful with them. Don’t point it unless you intend to use it. They’re powerful and unforgiving. You’ll have a brief lesson by the archangel Hazell before departing for the station. Any questions?”

  I lifted my hand. “How do you defeat a succubus?”

  “Remember this, she’s a dream weaver. You must catch her at her most vulnerable point, and that would be during her victim’s dream state, and all her energy will be focused on seduction—therefore she’ll be open to attack. But you must catch her unaware. That’s key to defeat. Once she’s in seduction mode, plant your swords of light between her shoulder blades. Time it perfectly, and Lilith will be vaporized.”

  “Why didn’t you give us this information before?” I questioned point-blank, a little perturbed. “It would’ve saved me a lot of time and heartbreak.”

  His brow furrowed. “I don’t make the rules. I just enforce them. Now if you two are ready, Hazell is waiting down on the green for your lesson.” He withdrew two crisp white tickets from his inside jacket pocket and thrust them across the table at us. “Hurry, there’s no time to delay.” Faintly in the distance, a train whistle sounded. “Ah, the first warning. You have precisely ten bells before it pulls out of the station.”

  Saint Pete snapped his fingers, and once again I was clad in my former attire of jeans, flannel shirt, and boots. Good for demon hunting, but not for kick-ass warrior princesses with an ax to grind. "Come on, Saint Pete, can't you give us something that looks a bit more like warriors? You know to build up our courage."

  In a blink of an eye, I found myself garbed in a pair leggings with really cool high-heeled boots that rode up past my knees. The warrior top I was currently wearing complimented the rest of the outfit. Scarlett on the other hand for some reason was modeling a two-piece outfit that looked a bit skimpy to me but would give her freedom to move.

  Before I could thank Pete, we warrior princesses were transported to the green where we faced a giant blond with a long, flaming sword in hand. The angel cast us both a surprised look and said in a deep bass voice, “I can see I have my work cut out for me. Here.” He thrust the flaming sword in my hand and produced another for Scarlett.

  Surprised by the lightness of the weapon, I parried a few times for practice, then turned my attention to my angelic instructor.

  “The first lesson of sword fighting,” he began, “is to master the basics. It is important to know how to hold your sword. Don’t wave it around, and never point it unless you’re prepared to use it.” A sword appeared in his hand. “Now I will demonstrate the proper way to hold the sword correctly and safely.”

  I mimicked his actions as did Scarlett. Next, he showed us the basic footwork of advance and retreat. Once we felt comfortable, he faced off with us. After a few rounds—turns out Scarlett’s a natural—he nodded approval.

  The train whistle blasted another warning. “Time’s up,” he said, sheathing his sword. “Remember to keep your swords sheathed and in the downwards position at all times until ready to use. Go with God.”

  In a blink that was almost as fast as Saint Pete's, we found ourselves at a quaint, yellow wooden train depot with brown trim and old benches positioned around the platform for easy use. The man at the window punched our tickets as the train rumbled into the station and coasted to a stop. White smoke belched from its tall stack.

  “All aboard.” The green-capped conductor swung down from the train and landed with a thunk on the wooden-planked platform. “All departing souls please have your tickets ready.”

  The conductor took our tickets and directed us to our seats in the front passenger car. Soon the cars were full of smiling commuters, and the locomotive whistled its imminent departure. I gazed in awe at our luxurious accommodations of green velvet seat cushions and mahogany paneling and trim.

  We settled back against the cushions with a contented sigh as the train gained speed and passed through the Pearly Gates and down toward the Milky Way. Scarlett shifted her gaze from the window to me.

  “I hope you have a plan.” A ghost of a smile creased the corners of her ruby red lips. “I swear this whole incident has me turned inside out. Imagine,” she twanged in an exaggerated Southern drawl. “My whole future hinges on my ability to swing a sword! I swear, Jolene, my social status has gone to hell since meeting you.”

  “Glad to oblige,” I replied in my sweetest tone. “And yes, I do have a work-in-progress plan.”

  “And that would be?”

  “Simple,” I said in a confident tone. “First order of business is to establish communication. I’m going to burn one of my physical manifestation moments and enlist Deena’s help. She may not like it, but she’s going to be our point of contact among the living.”

  ****

  The first thing I noticed when we entered Earth’s atmosphere was the silver thread attached to my side.

  “It won’t be long now,” I told Scarlett. “I think we’re close to the Georgia coastline. Isn’t that Saint Simons Island down there?” I pointed to the small dot of land littered with condos and golf courses. “There’s the old lighthouse.”

  Before she could answer, a booming voice announced, “All passengers for Whiskey Creek get ready to disembark on the next turn.”

  The train slowed and made a dip into the golden glow of sunrise. Soon it came to a screeching halt on a large, fluffy cloud on the outskirts of town, and Scarlett and I hopped off and watched it disappear over the horizon.

  “Where to first?” Scarlett stifled a yawn behind her hand. “I could use a
nap.”

  “No time for naps,” I told her. “I want to swing by the hospital and check on my family. They’ve been through hell the past twenty-four hours, and I want to see them. And at the first chance I get, I’m going to arrange a little pow-wow with Deena.”

  “What if she won’t cooperate? Deena’s finicky about ghosts. She’s not going to like us haunting Dixieland Salon.”

  “She’ll get over it as soon as I can explain my situation. C’mon, we’re running out of time.”

  Together, we zipped over the rooftops of homes and businesses until we reached Whiskey Creek General Hospital. In the room where my body lay connected to a zillion machines, my family had gathered, including my daughter, Becky.

  Dr. Moore was saying, “We were able to resuscitate her. She’s stable for now. However, we’re cautious in our prognosis.”

  Daddy, who held Mama’s hand in a tight grip, asked, “What happened to cause this setback, Dr. Moore?”

  The young doctor smoothed his ruffled hair. “Well, to be honest, we believe someone, either accidentally, or on purpose, turned off the ventilator.”

  Boy, talk about dropping a bomb! Evidently, the doctor wasn’t from the South. The domino effect was explosive as my family went nuts with shock, anger, and fear. Scarlett and I watched the raw emotions from the ceiling as their raised voices permeated the quiet ICU. Heads swung from all directions at the disturbance.

  “Son-of-a-bitch,” Daddy roared. His eyes bugged, and his face reddened. “What’s goin’ on around here?”

  Dr. Moore grabbed his arm in a strong grip. “Calm down, Mr. Tucker. We’ve notified the police. They’re interviewing the night staff now. However, I need you and your family to remain calm. There are other patients in this critical care unit.”

  Daddy shook off the doctor’s grip. “Don’t tell me to remain calm when someone tried to kill my daughter twice,” he said in a lowered steely tone.

  “We don’t know the facts yet—”

  “Yet, the police are here investigating a possible attempted murder,” Mama cut the doctor off.