Toe to Toe

by Deborah LeBlanc

  Nonie glanced over at Guy, whose face had clouded with anger.

  “Nonie is my girl,” he said. “That’s why I didn’t go into the light when it came for me after I died. I wanted to be here for her. To protect her, look after her. We swore we’d always be together, get married, have children. Maybe some of that can’t happen now, but I can still be with her, protect her, like a man is supposed to do for his woman.”

  “Son,” Helen said with a shake of her head, “you being with her all the time stops her from living life. From living the life she was meant to live after you passed on. You should have gone to the light when it came for you. That would have been the best thing for you and for her. Now, though, she’s stuck. I can feel from her heart that she loves you. She’ll always love you, but that doesn’t mean that there isn’t room in her heart to love someone else. Someone who’s alive who can give her some happiness.”

  “How can you tell me what I should or shouldn’t do when you didn’t go to the light either?”

  “My situation’s different. It involves my house, not another human being. My husband, Charlie, has been gone for many a year now. He took to the light right away, Lord bless him. As soon as I get my house situation under control, I plan on finding me that light again and my Charlie. That’s where the forever after part comes in.”

  Guy glanced down at the floor for a moment, then looked up at Nonie. “Don’t I make you happy?”

  Nonie peered over at Helen, hoping the woman might chime in about now. Helen just gave her a quizzical look.

  After clearing her throat, Nonie said to Guy, “What can I say? Of course you make me happy. But she’s right Guy, I can’t move on with my life if you’re always around.”

  “You’d rather I go? You don’t want to see me anymore?” The hurt look in Guy’s eyes made Nonie fidget.

  “I didn’t say that,” Nonie said. “Don’t start getting all melodramatic. I’m just saying that every time I try to go on a date like a normal human female, you’re all up in my stuff, in my face, telling me to leave. And heaven forbid if somebody tries to kiss me goodnight! Look at what happened this evening when you found out Jack wanted to take me to dinner. You trashed my place. How’s a living person supposed to deal with all of that?”

  Nonie watched Guy’s expression crumble into one of sadness. It hurt her heart, and she wanted to take back everything she’d just said.

  “So what is it?” Guy asked. “What do you want? Me to stay or leave you forever?”

  Nonie put a hand to her heart. “I want you to understand that I love you and will always love you, but you’ve got to quit trying to control every part of my life. And you need to accept the fact that I’m the one still alive here. There’s a life I have to live. I don’t know where it’ll lead me or who it will lead me to. But if you’re always standing there in front of me, I’ll never have answers to those questions. I’m not saying any of this to hurt you, Guy.”

  “Of course she doesn’t want to hurt you,” Helen chimed in. “Look how there’s so much sadness on her face. You should be ashamed of yourself, my boy, for making her hurt that bad when all she’s trying to do is tell you how she feels.”

  “Yeah, but how about what I feel?” Guy said. “Nobody seems to be taking that into consideration.”

  “You’re giving her an ultimatum,” Helen said, “and that’s not fair.”

  “But what am I supposed to do?” Guy said. “I love her.”

  “I know that, too,” Helen said. “So what y’all got to do is compromise. If Nonie wants to go on a date, you let her go on the date and stay here at the house. When she comes back, she’ll be with you. At least that would give her some chance to live her life without you always in her face. You can’t stay stuck here forever. That’s not what this is all about.”

  “Then why are you still here?” Guy asked. “I know you said you wanted to make sure your house was okay before you left with the light, but suppose it never gets right? Suppose your son turns it into a rental house or winds up selling it? What are you going to do then? Stay here until that changes?”

  “I think it’s going to change for the better with me and the house being on television,” Helen said. “I’m counting on that. Once that happens, all I’ve got to do is wait for the light to come back and get me, and I’ll be ready.”

  “Suppose . . . suppose the light doesn’t come back?” Guy said quietly. “Suppose you had one chance to go to it, and if you didn’t, you can’t anymore?”

  Helen let out a deep sigh. “Son, you about the most negative thinking little man I’ve met. Get your head out of that stupid place and think positive. That light is love, real, down to your soul love. That’s all it’s about. That kind of love doesn’t leave you here high and dry. It’ll be here when you’re ready.”

  Motioning to Nonie, Helen asked, “So, you going to put me on television or what?”

  “It’s not up to me, Ms. Helen. It’s not up to any of us who were at your house. We have to review the pictures, video and audio we took, and if we captured anything, we bring it to the producers of the television show. They’re the ones who’ll be making the decision on which location will be on the program. Now you do know that you yourself won’t be on television, right? As far as I know, I’m the only one who can see you. What the television crew will be looking for is evidence like your voice again on their recorders or your body showing up as a shadow on film.”

  “Oh, I know I won’t be on television in my body,” Helen said. “And it’s not about me, like I said. I want to stop my son from redoing the house and trying to sell it. If people think it’s haunted, everyone will want to come and see it. He could rent it out to people who like to sleep in scary places, like a haunted hotel, you know? And people could see my saddle and all the pictures I have with celebrities and other important people. Everybody watching the show will see my collection and think, ‘now that must have been one heck of a woman.’ That way they won’t forget me, you know? That’s all I really want. Is for people not to forget.”

  Nonie heard the loneliness in Helen’s words, and it tugged at her heart.

  “But we should have some good captures from when y’all were there, right?” Helen said. “I spoke right in your machine like you told me to.”

  “I haven’t heard anything yet from Jack, who’s reviewing the material, but as soon as I do, I’ll make sure you know. But you’ve got to remember, Ms. Helen, if they want to film your house, you’re going to need to be there. The producers are going to be expecting the film crew and the cast of investigators to get some evidence. So you need to be there to make that happen.”

  “I may be old, but my mind’s all collected. I know I got to be at my house when they come. Until then, though, if it’s okay with you, I think I’m going to hang out here with y’all. That way I can find out firsthand when they give the okay for television. I know they will. I just know it.”

  “Hang out here?” Nonie echoed, trying to hold back a moan. Her apartment was already too crowded with Guy. Now another ghost wanted to take up residence?

  “Just until we find out,” Helen said. “You have any idea when that’s going to be?”

  “Jack, the tall guy with the dark hair—”

  “That big good-looking fella?”

  Nonie nodded and resisted glancing over to see Guy’s reaction. “He’s reviewing all the data tonight. When he’s done, he’ll take whatever he finds to the producers, and they’ll make the decision. Until then, all we can do is wait.”

  “Good then,” Helen said. “I’ll just wait here until we find out, then I’ll go back to my house and make sure those producers get their money’s worth. I’ll make sure they get a good show.”

  “Why do you want to wait here?” Nonie asked. “Can’t you wait for the news at your house?”

  “I like being close to the action,” Helen said with a grin. “I could have followed Jack to his house but he doesn’t have a dead person following him around. Not like y
ou’ve got. I had to hitch a ride where I could find it. I’m not going to be any trouble. I promise you that. You’ll hardly even know I’m around. For sure I’m not going to pitch no hissy fit like he did. As far as I’m concerned you can go and come like you want.”

  Nonie lifted a brow. “Appreciate that.” She scrubbed a hand over her face. Great, that was all she needed. Another ghost in her house watching her every move.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  The next morning Nonie woke with a start. She’d been dreaming about Tiana Lewis and her skillet. Only this time, instead of chasing Jack and Tatman like she did at the plantation the night before, Tiana chased Guy and flattened his head with a skillet. Immediately, Guy’s head expanded back to its normal size, then he faded out of sight. As soon as he vanished, Tiana had turned towards her.

  Nonie glanced at the clock on her night stand: 9:05 a.m. She groaned, stumbled out of bed and went into the adjoining bathroom. She hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. Guy and Helen had had a talkathon in her bedroom. And although she’d asked them repeatedly to quiet down or go into another room, she could still hear them whispering. All night. They’d talked about how they died, about their families. Helen talked a lot about the future and what it might hold if she was able to get back to the bright light that had originally come for her.

  If Nonie had gotten three hours of sleep, it had been a lot. She felt grumpy, in need of coffee and a shower, but most of all she wanted to get out of the house and away from Guy and Helen. She hadn’t seen them when she woke and wasn’t about to call out and get their attention now. Wherever they were was better than here.

  She turned the shower on, letting the water run a little cooler than she liked, hoping it would alert her body to wakey-wakey. She undressed and stepped into the spray. The water got her eyes open and heart pumping. She quickly soaped up and washed her hair. As she stood under the shower, rinsing her hair, her thoughts roamed over to Jack. She replayed the scene of when he’d asked her out to dinner. How his hazel eyes had taken on a soft green tint. How the muscles in his arms strained against his shirt sleeves when he’d leaned toward her. Though she’d never say it aloud, Guy had been right. More than dinner had been desired in that moment. Only that desire had come from her.

  When Jack had touched her, had cupped her chin with his hand to turn her head towards him, she’d felt a spark of heat rush through her body, like someone had lit kindling meant for a bonfire.

  Frustrated, Nonie lifted her head and let the spray hit her full in the face. She opened her mouth, let it fill with water, then spat it out against the shower stall. All of this ghost business was driving her crazy and she needed to talk to someone about it. She thought about Buggy, but her friend didn’t get off of work at Meemaw’s Café until three, and she’d be too busy to talk at work. Her Uncle Fezzo came to mind. Although he’d said seeing the dead ran in the family, she thought it might be worth testing the waters with him and sharing some of what she’d been going through. What she was going through. She had to do something. She was collecting ghosts like some people collected baseball cards. The only difference was card collectors wanted more cards. And the last thing she wanted was more ghosts. Thankfully Tiana hadn’t shown up . . . yet. Nonie could only cross her fingers that the large, angry woman would stay at the plantation and wouldn’t suddenly catch the “television” bug that had Helen so firmly in its grip.

  After turning the shower off, Nonie peeked around the shower curtain to make sure she was alone. Seeing neither Guy nor Helen, she hurried out of the shower, quickly dried her body and hair off with a thick white towel, then dressed in a pair of jeans and a white, pullover shirt. She gave her hair a quick whoosh with a blow-dryer, then debated on whether or not to put makeup on. Suddenly remembering that Inez Trahan’s viewing was today, she took off her jeans and exchanged them for black slacks. If she showed up at the funeral home in jeans during a viewing, her mother would stroke out. Following that train of thought, she swiped on some mascara, added a bit of lip gloss, then left well enough alone.

  After slipping on a pair of black sneakers, Nonie hurried out of her duplex, looking over her shoulder every couple of seconds to make sure Guy and Helen hadn’t reappeared. She never thought she’d see the day that she’d be rushing to get to the funeral home on a day off, but she needed to get out of the house before Guy and Helen reappeared. She wondered where they’d gone off to. Guy couldn’t read her thoughts but she wasn’t sure about Helen. For all she knew, they might be heading over to the funeral home right now as she planned her big escape.

  Nonie was locking her front door when Dora Arsemont came out onto the duplex’s porch.

  “Good morning, cher,” Dora said. “How you doin’ today?” She wore a pink shift with blue floral designs across the bodice, white patent leather flats and black-rimmed, cat-eye glasses. A haphazard line of red lipstick traced her thin mouth, which held her ever-present dangling cigarette. A white patent-leather purse sat in the crook of her right arm.

  “Fine, Ms. Dora,” Nonie said, forcing a smile.

  Dora eyed Nonie’s outfit. “You don’t have work today?”

  “No, ma’am. I’ve got the day off.”

  “Aw, mah, dat’s too bad. I was going to the funeral home, me, to see poor Inez. You know we used to play bingo together at de bingo hall down by Thibodeaux’s Ranch.”

  “I’m sure your attendance will be appreciated, Ms. Dora. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some errands to run.”

  “Oh, okay, go run you errands,” Dora said, ashes falling onto the porch from her cigarette. She suddenly held up a hand. “”Wait, wait. Did somebody come to you side of de duplex early dis morning? Like one, two in de morning?”

  Nonie frowned. “No. Nobody.”

  “’Cause I heard all kinds of noise coming from you place. Dishes breakin’, like somebody was cat-fightin’ in dere. You sure dere was no problem? No boyfriend you was fightin’ wit’?”

  “Positive. There wasn’t a problem,” Nonie lied, remembering Guy’s hissy fit.

  “Hm,” Dora said, then puffed on her cigarette and blew smoke out of the left side of her mouth. “Mah, maybe I was dreamin’den. No, no wait . . . It wasn’t a dream ’cause it woke me up. I remember dat. It was a crash dat woke me up.”

  Nonie shrugged and took a step off the porch.

  “Ah, well,” Dora said. “Maybe it came from Sarah and Michael Doucet’s house across de street. You know how dem two is always fightin’. He comes back late from work drunk, and she gives him hell. Broke his nose one time wit’ a ironing board. Can you believe dat?”

  Nonie shook her head in a display of disbelief and took another step down from the porch.

  Dora shook a finger, her eyes not totally focused on Nonie. “But you know, dat racket sounded too close for it to be from across de street.”

  Inching her way away from the porch, Nonie waited for Dora to snap back to attention.

  “Ah, well,” Dora said, hitching the handle of her purse back to the crook of her arm. More cigarette ashes plopped onto the porch. “If you say it wasn’t you, den I guess it wasn’t you. I’m glad you okay.”

  Holding in a sigh, Nonie shook her car keys and smiled. “I’m just fine, Ms. Dora. I’ve got to run those errands now.”

  “Yeah, I got to go me, too.”

  Nonie hurried over to her car, unlocked the door and jumped inside before Dora had a chance to start on another rant. She shoved the key into the ignition, started the car, and tires squealed as she pulled out onto the street.

  In the ten minutes it took Nonie to drive from her place to the funeral home, she thought about the investigation they’d done the night before. She was curious as to whether they’d captured anything on video or audio, and if so, was the evidence going to be anything close to what she’d experienced firsthand. More importantly, if they did get evidence, that meant a sweet thousand-dollar check for everyone in the group. She’d save that money until she got a handle on how regular th
e investigations would be. If they were often enough and produced enough to warrant a regular check, she’d let her father know she would no longer be on the funeral home’s payroll. Until then, she’d squirrel away the money. A thousand dollars a weekend was nothing to sneeze at, but the investigations came with no guarantees. They’d lucked out getting two in one night. Even luckier getting two active ones in one night. That might not always be the case. Of course, she had to consider the fact that she’d collected an extra ghost in the deal. That was something she definitely hadn’t counted on. Nonie couldn’t help but wonder if that was going to be an issue with every investigation. One thing she didn’t need was ghosts following her everywhere, all wanting something from her. Like Helen wanting to be on television. There was only way to find out, though. Keep doing investigations and see what happened.

  Still pondering the ghost situation, Nonie arrived at the funeral home, spotted the hearse parked under the side portico and three or four cars parked in the visitors’ lot. She drove around to the back of the funeral home and parked near the garage.

  It was nearing 10:30 a.m., which meant a half hour left before they moved Inez from the funeral home to St. Anthony’s. After that, the place would be relatively free and clear for an hour.

  Nonie got out of her car and went into the garage and through the side door that led to her father’s office. Normally his door would have been locked from the inside, but he left it unlocked during funerals so Fezzo could move easily from the garage to the embalming room without going all the way around to the front entrance.

  She stuck her head inside the office, relieved to find it empty, then tiptoed into the hallway and saw Fezzo alone in the coffee room, sipping on a cup of brew. His eyes lit up when he spotted her.