Living Soul

by S. B. Niccum

  I took in a breath and let it out in gusts. Robyn came to my side and laced her tiny hand through mine. She looked up at me and I looked down at her. Bending down so I could be eye level, I brushed some brown locks away from her face. “It’s just you and me now.” She nodded, then threw her arms around my neck and squeezed so tightly that I could barely breathe.

  It appeared that I was now living with the Preston’s. All my belongings were there, I wondered where Alex’s things were and if the task of going through them all would fall to me—probably. Dane took Valerie straight to their room, and I headed to the kitchen to make myself some tea. Robyn watched me from a stool and said nothing. While the kettle warmed up, I searched the pantry for what I considered ‘good’ tea. There was none, so I settled for mixing a couple of pre-packaged types, lemon, mint and… a chill brushed up my arm and I shivered closing my eyes. The feeling that the chill evoked made my heart skip a beat.

  Placing the tea bags in the porcelain teapot, I went back to the stove to wait for the kettle to whistle. The handle was warm and it felt good to place my cold hand there to warm it. But in spite of the soft steam that ascended in rivulets, another chill ran up my arm, then to my neck, softly down my other arm and all the way down my backside. I felt embraced by this chill and stood there shivering until the whistle of the pot startled me out of my trance.

  “I said, is uncle Alex in heaven too?” Robyn yelled.

  I shook the chill and looked at her unaware that she had spoken to me at all. “I’m sure of it, honey. He’s with your mommy and daddy.”

  She looked at me steadily for a few minutes. “You promise?” she asked, piercing me with her large blue eyes.

  “I promise.”

  “I want to watch something.”

  “Would you like some food? Are you hungry?”

  “No,” she climbed down the stool and headed for the T.V. After a long debate on what to watch, I settled her down and wrapped her in a blanket and kissed her forehead.

  “I’ll be in my room if you need me, Rob.”

  “OK.” She smiled and seemed content with the prospect of her movie.

  My room was Alex’s old room; it had been re-decorated with my things—our things. I took a minute to look around as I sipped my tea, and touched some of the things that we had purchased together—decorations, mementos from trips and such, nothing of great value but all holding a precious memory.

  Again, the chill embraced me from behind and I felt a great longing for Alex. With tears burning the rims of my eyes I fell down on the bed and started crying, succumbing to the grief and emptiness I felt inside.

  “Alex … ” I groaned.

  “ … hhheeere,” an eerie whistle like noise sounded near my ear, followed by a cool kiss on my cheek.

  “Alex?” this time I asked, certain that I would hear an answer.

  “Yesss … ”

  “Alex!!!” Tears run down freely now, no doubt smearing the little makeup I was wearing. “You came to me!”

  “How long?”

  “How long what?”

  “I just left you…you have short hair.”

  “We just got back from your funeral. And yes, it appears that my hair is short now.”

  “I was only gone for a few minutes!”

  “I—honestly, I’ve lost track of time … I live here now,” I said looking around the room while trying to snuggle up to the chill. It seemed that his form was lying beside me on the bed, and one faint cool breeze-like hand caressed my face.

  “I promised I wouldn’t leave you, so I’ve come back.”

  “You should not be here!” Celeste’s voice chimed in, stern and disapproving.

  “You’ve said that already, but I disagree,” Alex answered dryly.

  “There are consequences, son,” another familiar voice said.

  “Who’s that?”

  “The Admiral,” Alex whispered in my ear, sending even more chills and leaving me shivering. I reached for a blanket to warm me up and covered myself all the way up to my chin.

  “You see! You are doing it already, you are haunting her! This is not right, you need to leave,” Celeste bellowed.

  “But I don’t want him to leave,” I protested.

  “Esta no es una buena idea. It’s not good for you Tess, no good will come from this, you mark my words!” she insisted.

  “Come on, son. Before it’s too late,” the Admiral pleaded.

  “You’ve heard her,” the chill left my body, and it seemed as if he were floating somewhere above me. “She doesn’t want me to leave. I’m her husband; I should be her Guardian Angel now. You leave this up to me.”

  “But you haven’t been assigned, neither have you received any training! You are going against all the rules and this will only add to her distress!” Celeste yelled.

  “People have lost their minds, this is not a game, Alex,” Russell insisted.

  “Enough! I want Alex, okay. Nothing will happen to me, I’ve been hearing spirits for a long time now. I think I can handle my own husband’s company, even if it is … ” Despair seized me and a great lump formed in my throat. I couldn’t believe our lives had been reduced to a ghostly encounter. I fell in a heap on my bed, crouched into a tight ball and wept with abandon.

  The days that followed were a mix of bitter and sweet. I loved hearing his voice and being able to still talk to him, but the yearning to be with him ate me alive. He too was tormented by the great chasm that existed between us now. The sting of death and the victory of the grave seemed ever present.

  I also had to tread a fine line between my new life with Alex and my other life as a widow. I was careful to not let it slip that I was talking to my dead husband. More than anyone, I knew how others perceived my gift, and how cautious I had to be when talking to him.

  Alex was ever present; he came with me to work, and helped look after Robyn at the store. He was there with me when I shopped, cooked, bathed, slept, everything … everywhere … all the time. After a few weeks I noticed that some of the people I worked with were looking at me funny, like I was off my rocker. I couldn’t fathom why they would think that. There may have been a few times where I had let a few words slip, when talking to Alex, but those were just a few instances, nothing to be concerned about.

  I was always cold too, always wearing long sleeves and shivering, but that was not a problem for me. I was willing to put up with the constant chill I felt inside and out, just to have him near me. Eating seemed to be a problem too; I was never hungry. Food had lost its taste, it all tasted bland. Same with my teas, nothing tasted like anything anymore. Life in general seemed to lose its interest. Work was no longer enjoyable, no designs would come to mind; no color or texture seemed to inspire me. In fact nothing about this life mattered any more. Alex and being with him became my only interest. It was easier to stay home, in my room with him than go out, that way I could avoid all the glares from strangers and the concerned stares from everyone else. Only in that little room could I speak freely and have some time with him.

  “I need to talk to you Tess.” Dane opened the door suddenly, catching me in the middle of an animated chess game with—myself.

  I looked up at him for a moment, resenting the lack of knock. “Sure, what about?”

  He entered, looked around the room, sauntered, pursed up his lips, opened his mouth to say something, changed his mind, exhaled, sat on the edge of my bed, rumpled his graying hair and then looked at me straight in the eyes. “I’ve noticed that you talk to yourself,” he said coming straight to his point.

  I couldn’t argue with him on that. I couldn’t deny that I sometimes spoke out loud, but if I told him that I could speak to my dead husband, surely that would be worse. “I know it seems like I’m crazy, but I’m not. I’m just … grieving, in my own way.”

  “Why did you lie to him? “Alex complained.

  “See what I mean?” Russell piped in; apparently he had just shown up.

  “My dad will understand, jus
t tell him the truth.”

  “Dane has been through a lot too, and frankly, he is at wits end. He will think she’s lost it, and will feel forced to send her to someone else who will help her. You know what will happen then?”

  “He wouldn’t do that to Tess.”

  “But you are willing to take that chance. You feel perfectly fine, letting her risk it all for you!”

  Their bickering was giving me a headache. I shook my head and put my hands up to my ears to shut the noise and Dane out.

  “Are you okay, Tess?” Dane asked, tired and concerned. “Because Social Services just called, they want to meet with you.”

  “About what?”

  “Who, you mean? About who?” he asked pointedly. “Robyn. They want to visit you and see how it’s going with Robyn.”

  “Why?”

  “In lieu of recent events, and with the death of your husband, they want to make sure you are still fit to parent Robyn.”

  This snapped me out of my stupor. Memories of me, vowing never to put my own children through what I was going through in foster care flashed before me. Panic set in, as I realized that I may have become an unfit parent. I did everything she needed for survival, but….

  “Tess?” Dane asked again. He was leaning forward and looking at me intently.

  “Yes, of course. I’ll … when? When are they coming?”

  “Next Monday.”

  “That’s in one week!” I observed as I nodded. “I’ll be ready.”

  Dane got up with effort and started to leave the room but then stopped and turned to look at me again. “Do you need something to help you sleep better at night?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Because I hear you walking around the house at night, talking to yourself or … ” he looked around the room for signs of an entity, “someone who isn’t there.”

  I had no recollection of doing this. Could it be that I would sleep walk and not remember it? I need to get my act together. I raked my hair with my fingers and was shocked to find the length so short. I remembered that it was short now, then rushed to the bathroom to see again what I looked like. What I saw was not pretty; I looked like a ghost myself. If the Social Worker saw me like this they would for sure think that there’s something wrong with me.

  Ignoring the Admiral, Alex and now Celeste who were arguing in the bedroom, I reached for my forgotten aromatherapy bag and started a bath. I mixed and matched scents until I got a steamy fragrant bath going. After closing the door I sunk in the bath and floated there with just my face out of the water. I took in the smell of rosemary and mint, letting it both relax and energize me. My actions may have clued my ghostly entourage to give me some time alone, so I enjoyed the beautiful sound of silence for a while.

  Once dressed and put together, I headed for the kitchen for some tea. I also intended on making dinner for everyone. Eating together was something we hadn’t done in…I couldn’t remember the last meal we all shared together. I think it was before…before…I couldn’t bring myself to say it—Alex was still here with us, he might be dead, but he was still here!

  Thin as a rail, Valerie shuffled into the kitchen and reached for my cup of tea claiming it as her own with a smirk. I hadn’t seen her in a long time, weeks, maybe a month. She looked old, frail and weak. Her hair needed styling as well, and her usual gym fit body looked skeletal. Her skin seemed to be thinly stretched over her bones like a silk blanket.

  “I don’t know how you do it,” she said as she smelled the tea. “But you make the best cup of tea.”

  “It’s one of my many hidden gifts,” I said with irony.

  Valerie raised an eyebrow, took a sip then closed her eyes relishing my creation. “Mm … it never fails.” She opened her eyes and watched me as I made myself another cup.

  “I hear I’m not the only one who’s been acting crazy lately,” she sneered from above the rim of her cup, while taking another sip. “It seems Dane is running his own insane asylum right here!”

  I looked at her steadily and she looked back at me unblinkingly. “He says that you have been talking to yourself, having whole animated conversations and chess games with thin air.” This seemed humorous to her and she couldn’t suppress a laugh. “With all the crazy things I’ve done over the years, you just went ahead at toped them all!”

  “I can hear him,” I said matter-of-factly. I don’t know what possessed me to be so upfront with her. The fact that I was being considered crazy didn’t bother me, but the burden of secrecy did. Telling Valerie seemed easier somehow. At the very least, she couldn’t commit me to the loony bin.

  On hearing my words her face lost all the laughter and she put her cup down. “Him who?”

  Now it was my turn to laugh. “All of them; I can hear them all!”

  “Why did you bring me here?” Alex asked, annoyed.

  “I want you to see what you two are doing, from another perspective.” Russell led the way to an old Victorian home, newly remodeled and immaculately decorated to the time period. They flew through the house until they came to the study. On a chair sat Eros, slumped, and staring off into no particular place. Off to one side of the room, floated Leo with a satisfied grin on his face.

  “Alex, good to see you! Russell.” He nodded to the Admiral. “What brings you guys here?”

  “How’s your haunt going, Leo?” Russell asked while surveying the comatose man on the chair.

  “Well, it’s hard to know exactly what he’s thinking, but by the look of his aura, I would say that he is pretty much miserable.” Leo said triumphantly.

  “Hmm … ” Russell mused. “So what exactly is your end goal here, Leo? What exactly do you wish to accomplish?”

  “To drive him insane, of course. To make the rest of his life as miserable as possible.”

  Russell nodded. “Well it seems to be working well so far. What now?”

  Leo shrugged.

  “Tell me this Leo, what happens if you do your job so well that he ends up committing suicide?”

  “That’s his prerogative, I guess. Not mine.”

  “Really? Not yours? What if he does this as a direct result of your haunt? You are telling me, that you will not be held responsible for that at some point?”

  Leo stared dumbly at Russell. This point had not occurred to him. He just figured that he would drive his half brother insane and give him a taste of what is like to feel persecuted, like he was by him. He never even made a point to hide who he was. He freely haunted him and told him who he was and what he was doing and why. He reminded Eros day in and day out of his murders, and his dirty deeds as a drug dealer and even as a kidnapper of American Soldiers with the intent of selling them to terrorists, so they could be executed on camera. And all for what? Money. And what was money to him now? Nothing.

  Having all his sins continually before him made Eros paranoid. He ate and drank insatiably, though nothing had flavor—food, something that was once one of his favorite things, had lost its taste. Sleep evaded him. Agatha even tried some of her “potions” from her book and they only gave him a fitful nightmarish kind of sleep. He had even cried with real tears and begged his wife to do some sort of exorcism, but nothing she tried seemed to work.

  This enraged Agatha and antagonized her even further. Revenge was also in her sights as she knew exactly who was haunting her husband. She knew just how to hit this ghost where it would be sure to hurt the most, so she weaved a new link in this chain of hate and torture that had started so long ago by a jealous and covetous man—Ricardo. He weaved the first link with his anger at losing Celeste to a poor priest. The second link came later and quite by accident when Max died, but the third and fourth…those were planned, he married Celeste under duress, then eagerly flaunted his mistress in front of pregnant Celeste.

  When Eros was born, his mother Anabella, filled her son’s head with nothing but entitlement and jealousy; those were the other links in the chain. Little by little this chain got longer and longer and thicker unti
l now it weighed heavily around the ankles of many. Like shackles, those that weaved the links got tangled in it, not knowing that undoing them would be much harder than making them.

  Leo was now shackled too, though he didn’t know it. He could have freed himself of the whole situation, instead he bound himself even tighter to it, and deep inside he felt the weight of it.

  “Leo, if he kills himself, his blood will be on your hands.” Russell said pointedly. “This is why we,” he pointed to the three of them, “departed spirits have to follow strict rules when it comes to coming back to Earth. We can’t just show up, untrained, unassigned, and with a personal vendetta…or agenda,” he looked at Alex. “Tess doesn’t look much better than him and she might lose custody of Robyn because of you.”

  “Why does she look bad,” Leo said accusatorily. “I thought you said you would protect her?”

  “I am! We do the same things, well not the same things, but we just talk and spend time together.”

  “All her time together!” Russell added. “She hardly interacts with anyone else! That was not the case when you were alive.”

  “I had a life!”

  “Exactly and now you don’t. So let her have one!”

  “You two need to leave these people alone,” Russell ordered. “Before something happens that you’ll both regret … more than dying!”

  The silence that prevailed in the room was only interrupted by a crazy scream from Eros. He then reached for a bottle of whisky and poured himself a full glass. He drank it thirstily then staggered out of the room.

  “Agatha! Agatha! I had a life! I had a life!” he yelled and pulled his disheveled hair out.

  “What? What is it?” Agatha said out of breath as she rushed toward him.

  “Shhh … they’ll hear you,” Eros whispered inches from her face, blowing his rank breath on her and swaying dangerously from one side to another. Agatha moved away repelled by the stench of fermented alcohol on an empty stomach.