Most Ardently

by Sheena Austin et al.

  “Stop worrying, you,” Nefera said and wrestled herself up. “I’ll help you put the last things up and then she will be back already.”

  “Handy that she had to stay in the church for this long, isn’t it,” Charity said but it was not a question. She knew Nefera had made it up when Charity had came up with the idea to clean up the house and decorate it for Christmas. Atenea had helped as well and handily kept Prudence even busier with a million small tasks around the Old Town.

  “Very.” Nefera nodded and started to hang all the remaining decorations.

  Charity gave her a thankful look as Nefera left the room and listened to her gentle steps become distant. I have only a minute. Charity dashed after her as silently as she could and saw her disappear past the landing to the third floor.

  Barefoot, Charity ran up the stairs and headed to Nefera’s room. It was a large windowless one with a sarcophagus in the middle and tons of scrolls on shelves on each wall. But Charity only had to find one.

  She went to the only table in the room that had only one papyrus propped open by four heavy golden statues of a dog-headed god. Nefera had called it Anubis. Charity had thought it to be a cute little guardian for the scroll she was looking for.

  That scroll was what she gently took and rolled under the waistband of her loose jeans. She hid the bulge with the sweater and tried not to think about how she was borrowing the spell.

  Charity insisted to herself that it was borrowing. She was not stealing the priceless makeshift spell. Besides, Nefera had told her she could take any of the scrolls she liked and wanted to study...

  In a whisk, she sneaked out of the room, closed the door, and ran back downstairs. She reached the hall just when she heard Nefera’s footsteps again and saw her come down.

  “How does it look?” Charity asked and was glad that she did not need breath to be casual. Had she needed it, she would have been out of it.

  “Beautiful. You really have an eye for these things,” Nefera said and headed to the dining room. “I will be writing if you need me.”

  “Of course.” Charity nodded and looked around in the hall.

  They had cleaned off all the cobwebs, thrown out all the collected trash and dust, straightened out all the once pretty carpets with gladly given patches from Em’s clothing hoard, and now it all looked near... Lively. She ran her fingers on the shined railing and glanced at the chandelier that had actual candles on it now. There was just one thing she could not get her hands to, and no one had told her why.

  The Ballroom doors were still barricaded with heavy wooden boards.

  Charity walked at them and placed her hand on the rough wood. She had hoped that the whole house could be turned around for Christmas and that good use of her old decorator profession could have given her more flesh. Her freedom.

  Yet she was hiding ever more exposing ribs under a neat Christmas sweater that also hid her bruises under its collar. She was withering away and her daily glimpses at the mirror in her room-the room she had woken in-revealed more and more disappointment.

  And that caused Jerry’s promise to repeat in her mind more and more.

  If I could just... Peek in. Charity pressed her hand tighter against the wood and hoped she could just push off the obstacle. If she could just make it disappear, maybe her salvation would be behind it. Maybe if she could make that place beautiful as well... Her hands reached for a hammer she had left on the ground in case someone would allow her to remove the nails. No one had, but the hammer had stayed.

  The sound of the front door opening behind her cut her thoughts short. She turned swiftly, hiding guilt behind a welcoming smile, and stepped towards the two who stepped in chatting.

  Atenea looked at her and greeted her swiftly, not noticing how she was hiding her hands behind her back. “Salutations, Charity-” then she fell silent as Prudence pushed before her.

  “What did you do to the pile?” Prudence almost sounded panicked. “I had very specific pile of things in front of door, where are they?”

  Charity stood there stunned. She had thought Pru would have noticed how clean the hall was before even- But she didn’t.

  “You need to put it all back. Now,” Prudence insisted and looked around to see if all the trunks, shelves, and other things that had hid the ballroom door before she could return to their places.

  “We cleaned up,” Charity said weakly. “Don’t you like it?”

  Atenea looked around, hand on Prudence’s shoulder to calm her down. “Look, Pru. It is beautiful here. The chandelier is clean! I do not remember when it was clean last time... Has it been a hundred years yet?”

  Prudence did not listen. Instead, her face hardened when she noticed how Charity was turning away from her to hide her hands. “Show me what you are hiding.”

  “I am not hiding anything,” Charity lied instinctively. Her skin grayed.

  Prudence squinted and walked to her. “What. Are. You. Hiding.” It was not a question. She was furious and her fury was burning away her beauty as fast as quilt hurt Charity’s looks.

  “I-” Charity sighed and handed her the hammer. “I was not going to open it. I just-”

  Prudence grabbed the hammer to her shaking hands. “You have... no idea.”

  “Pru-” Atenea tried to calm her down.

  “Get out of my sight. Both of you,” Prudence said with a broken voice. “Now.” She did not wait for them to move and did not listen to their objections before she was already dragging back trunks and things to hide the door. She worked in silence.

  Charity was dumbfounded. If she had any tear ducts left, she would have cried from hurt. “Fine,” she said. “I was just trying to help.”

  Prudence heard that and stopped for a moment before she threw a vase at the door. It shattered into a million pieces and the fake flowers Charity had made flew all over the place. “Is that why your hair is falling?” she said.

  “Pru!” Atenea said and watched as Prudence’s cheek shrivelled.

  Charity swallowed hard, grabbed her winter hat and scarf and ran out. She slammed the door so hard behind her that the chandelier chimed. Atenea’s cries behind her did not stop her from running to the Playhouse and sliding down the same way into the neon madness as before. The whole way she was holding onto the spell and sobbing without tears. Her mourning echoed in the tubes and made them howl so loud that the ghosts below joined the song to hide it from the amusement park visitors below.

  “YOU CAME!” JERRY SAID when Charity peeled herself off the cobblestones. This time her fall had been more graceful. Jerry decided not to mention that there were actual stairs to the Old Graveyard, and a landing spot full of soft sand, when she appeared in the darkness. “You look rough,” he could not keep in himself though.

  Charity wished she could have said the same to him but he looked as fresh as ever. Whatever he had up his sleeves obviously worked better than nice deeds. “Shut up and tell me the plan.”

  Jerry smiled. “That’s more like it. Straight to the business.” He offered her his arm and smiled more when she took it and handed him a scroll. It was hard to see exactly what it was in the darkness but he had a feeling that Charity had not brought him the wrong one. “Allow me to lead you to my humble abode.”

  It was not humble.

  The crypt they lowered themselves was covered in silk fabrics, it had columns for days, and the biggest bed Charity had ever seen. He had lit candles on dozens of coffins that were laid out on the sides of the room, and even the marble that coated everything was shining brightly.

  “Wow,” Charity whispered to herself.

  “I am glad you like it,” Jerry said and led her to sit on the bed so he could look at the scroll in a good light by a table. He read it for such a long time that Charity had a moment of doubt.

  “You can read it, right?”

  “I can read it.”

  “Well, what does it say?”

  “Instructions to raise the dead.”

  “Like, everyone?”
Charity rolled her ankles and laboriously pushed herself up. She walked up to him to look at the scroll too. “Is that your plan?”

  “No,” Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Just you and me. You, thanks to bringing this to me, and me because-” he looked down at the text again, unable to face Charity’s gleaming eyes.

  “Because?”

  “I need to see my family again.”

  Charity looked at the man who suddenly looked like a ton of bricks would have crushed his jolly soul. “I am sorry.”

  “I need to tell them something...and then I will gladly return. That is it. Quick in and-”

  “So it is not permanent?”

  “It is, for one,” Jerry ran his fingers on the text that looked more like a picture book to Charity’s eyes. “That would be you then.”

  Charity was speechless. “You would give me life even though you could return to your family?”

  “I have been dead for a while. I have a feeling that they would not take that well...” Jerry sighed. “It is really complicated and I do not want to get too deep into it. Just like I doubt you want to tell me why you suddenly changed your mind on the Christmas Eve...and why you are hiding your balding with that hat.”

  Charity lifted her hand on the hat to make sure it was still there. “...I don’t.”

  “It is settled then,” Jeremy collected the scroll to his hands and grabbed a goblet full of bubbling black liquid. “Drink this.”

  Charity took the goblet and looked at the drink. “Why?”

  “It will revive you. Don’t worry, it doesn’t taste like anything. It just feels funny.” Jeremy smiled. “You won’t regret it.”

  Charity gave him a doubting look but then slowly downed the slimy potion. It tingled in her mouth and the sensation spread through her more she drank. It felt Good. So good that when she reached the bottom, she tried to lick the goblet clean.

  “That is enough,” Jerry said and took it from her.

  “What was that,” Charity asked her eyes shining.

  “Potion of Life. See for yourself.” Jeremy pulled off a long flowing red silk sheet off a mirror that covered an entire wall.

  Charity looked. Awe spread across her face. She walked closer to her reflection and took off her hat and scarf and marvelled on the effects of the drink. Her hair grew back silky and strong, all the bruises faded away, her skin turned pink and plump once more and as she ran her fingers by her sides, she could feel strong flesh and muscles under them.

  While she stared at herself Jerry downed a smaller goblet of the same stuff. “Now we are ready to go.” He did not bother to ask if Charity was ready or not. It was obvious that she did not want to return to her shrivelled self.

  Charity nodded and ripped her eyes away from the mirror. “Yes.” She walked to him. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Just grab my arm, stay silent, and enjoy the ride.”

  Charity nodded and grabbed his arm tightly.

  Jeremy smiled to her reassuringly and started to chant ancient words that echoed in the chamber. Flames of the candles started dancing the further he got in the words.

  The ground began to shake.

  Jeremy chanted louder to be heard through the rumbling.

  Charity held onto him even tighter and closed her eyes with the same strength.

  He finished the spell and threw the scroll into the air.

  Charity could hear the papyrus fall.

  Silence fell.

  Charity opened her eyes slowly and opened her mouth to ask if it had worked when she saw a smoke swirling all around them. She shut her mouth tightly and felt how Jeremy held onto her.

  Then a familiar sensation of falling engulfed them.

  CHARITY OPENED HER eyes into darkness and tried to grasp on Jeremy but she felt nothing but a firm hard surface slam against her hands. She tried to outstretch her arms but couldn’t. She felt around her and soft silk met her fumbling fingers.

  For a moment her mind hit blank but then she realized.

  “I AM IN A GRAVE!!” She screamed and kicked the lid of her coffin with all her might. To her surprise, it inched away from her and some ground drizzled in. She hit again, more focused this time, and the lid flew away from her in wild abandon. It pushed away all the ground in front of it with explosive power and Charity could see... Sunshine.

  She blinked and slowly sat up. Gentle snowflakes lowered themselves towards her and she reached for them. Remotely she could feel how they were cold. Her breath made a faint cloud in the air.

  “I...am alive?” Charity whispered and a tear escaped her eye. “I am Alive!” She placed her hand on her chest and felt if she could feel her heartbeat but a scream covered any sensations she could receive from it.

  “CHAR-Ch- CHari-,” a voice wailed above her.

  It made Charity to decide that it was time to get up from the grave. She jumped out like a poorly dressed superhero right in front of Tiffany that had fallen to her knees with a big bush of flowers.

  Tiffany could not get a word out of her before she fainted to Charity’s feet in the snow and Charity had to not only take her to her arms and carry her to her pink Cadillac but also go through her purse to find the keys and start driving her old friend away from the cemetery.

  Had she looked back from the rearview mirror she would have seen how the ground she had just risen from pulsated. It took a long, deep inhale...

  But Charity did not look back. She drove away from her problems as fast as she could and ignored how she practically just kidnapped poor Tiffany. She let go of her life in the Land of the Dead faster than the Cadillac ran. For a moment, she wondered what had happened to Jerry, but she did not look.

  Tiffany fainted two more times on their way to a high-class shopping mall.

  On the third time, Charity threw a water bottle at her and gently made her drink it as they were parked. The drink helped Tiffany to stop shaking enough so she could find a fancy wine bottle from her glove box and chug a large quantity of it in one go.

  “Better?” Charity asked.

  Tiffany shook her head and took a longer sip. “I thought I killed you.”

  Charity did not understand what she meant by that but she was too excited about life to care so she only replied with, “Well, now you can make it up to me.”

  Tiffany nodded slowly and handed her credit card to Charity. “My pin is 7802.”

  Charity grabbed it from her hand and smiled. “Thanks.”

  CHARITY WALKED OUT of a shop with a whole new set of clothes. She wore the new Christmas red dress proudly and her new black heels clicked on the floors as she strutted. One glimpse at the store window affirmed she looked wonderful but something was missing. Her hair looked like it could use some work.

  “How about some pampering?” Charity asked from Tiffany that followed her sheepishly. She had not said more than a couple of words the whole time.

  “Ok,” Tiffany said weakly.

  They headed towards one salon Charity did not know well but had heard to serve champagne to their customers. In there, she rang the bell, flashed Tiffany’s platinum, and was right away seated to a nice luxurious chair next to Tiff that was right and ready when the alcohol was served. She chugged down hers fast.

  “Make me feel alive,” Charity said to the hairdresser. The man nodded and started to take his sweet time to wash her hair first and then let a conditioner to work its magic on it.

  “How are you back?” Tiffany asked when the man walked away but left her probably a third drink. “It has been a month.”

  “Really? That long?” Charity was surprised.

  “Yes.”

  “It is a long story but I will tell it to you some time,” Charity winked at her. “Now I just really need some-” she tasted words in her mouth and enjoyed how they were just like the champagne. “Zing.” It was a funny, bubbly word.

  “Zing?”

  “The Land of the Dead really lacks it.”

  Tiffany shut her mouth and pondered this information
.

  “I will really tell you everything later, Tiff,” Charity comforted her. “You probably need some time to digest this all and...” She reached for Tiffany’s hand to hold it. “I do really appreciate you came to visit my grave today of all days.”

  The hairdresser came to wash off the conditioner and then wrapped Charity’s hair into a fluffy white towel. She squeezed its softness with her fingers and took deep breaths to really soak in the flowery scents.

  “I visited your grave because I felt guilty,” Tiffany admitted by a whisper when they were relatively alone again.

  “Why?”

  “Because you died.”

  “It is hardly your fault.”

  “It was about to be.” Tears welled into Tiffany’s eyes.

  Charity frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “If the bread hadn’t killed you, the d-”

  The loudest screeching scream suffocated Tiffany’s confession. Charity could not even read the words off of her lips since she turned to look where the sound came from.

  It was Richard. Her husband. Or her ex-husband as death had torn them apart.

  All the color that had been left on Tiffany’s tan face drained from it. She looked more scared of him than Charity’s resurrection.

  “HOW ARE YOU ALIVE?!?” Richard yelled.

  Charity sipped on her champagne. She looked at him head to toe before rising from her seat and ripping off the towel just to throw it at him. Then she resulted in something utterly childish Taka had taught her. She took a deep breath and yelled at him, “BOO!”

  A domino effect rippled the air.

  Lights started to flicker all over the mall; people ran past the hairdressers screaming; somewhere large amount of glass shattered.

  Charity looked at her hands and blinked slowly. “I am sorry but did I do that?”

  Her answer came in at form of a man bashing into the doorway and screaming, “THE WORLD IS ENDING! THE DEAD HAVE RISEN! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!” Then he ran off screaming the same message to everyone available.