A Death Displaced

by Andrew Butcher

  The black-haired man said that it was almost as if she’d been thrown over the edge. All he could think about was the premonition and how the woman was vaulted a great distance.

  There were too many coincidences and parallels. He glanced out the shop at the flowers and cringed. Then he realised something. The flashes: flowers, notes, the lower grounds, cobbles, the wall, tears, pictures, bouquets.

  Confused, he went to the staff toilets to compose himself. Those flashes, the ones that gave him a splitting headache… they were the future? No, coincidence surely, they weren’t like the other visions.

  Maybe it was denial, but he didn’ t want to entertain the notion that those painful flashes could be a form of foresight. Not when the other times, the daydreams were so vivid and clear. Although he experienced pain in the vision where he was attacked, when he snapped out of it he wasn’t left in any physical agony.

  Nobody seemed to notice his sudden disappearance, and when he returned he tried to stay out of the way.

  Almost every customer had something to say about the flowers gathered a few metres from the front of the store: how tragic it was, how young the poor woman was, what a shame, what a horrible way to go, and so on. With every comment, he turned guiltier; but what could he do about it anyway? Nothing.

  To distract his mind, he turned to people watching. Mora had asked him to keep an eye out for suspicious customers, so that’s what he did. Nothing peculiar caught his attention for a long while, but when something did, it wasn’t a customer who was acting shifty.

  Alan repeatedly glanced around the store as if he was counting people. He hovered near the entrance. The store was fairly busy; Mora was serving behind the till, Janet had the day off, and Michael was helping out a customer.

  Nick served a customer at the second till so they didn’t have to wait for Mora to put through her transaction. He pretended to be engrossed in what he was doing while he surreptitiously observed Alan.

  Two people entered the shop. One was a tall man with shaved dark hair and he wore a black bomber jacket. The other was a lady with greasy mouse-blonde hair in a ponytail. Nick watched Alan and saw him give the slightest nod to them. It was almost undetectable, but he seemed to nod towards the CDs & DVDs section of the store.

  Alan scanned the other staff. Nick flicked his eyes down when Alan almost caught him watching. When Nick finished serving the customer, he headed towards the back of the store as if he was going towards to the toilets out the back. When he was out of Alan’s sight, he hid on a corner where he still had view of the CDs & DVDs section. His heart thudded, I feel like a spy.

  The tall man stood sideways, partly blocking the view of the greasy-haired lady. She had a bag from Crystals Galore, one of the stores in the upper grounds. She slipped a couple of DVDs into it.

  ‘Hey!’ Nick marched up to them. The man in the bomber jacket turned and glared at him. ‘I saw you put them in your bag. Take them back out please.’

  ‘You saw nothing.’ the leggy man rolled his shoulders and tensed his jaw.

  ‘I know what I saw, now put our stock back where it belongs.’

  The thief-lady widened her eyes and gave a dumbstruck face, trying to act the victim.

  ‘Leave my wife alone.’ Tall-man said with an accent. Nick unconsciously took a step back when he saw the man clench his fist.

  Michael and Mora must have heard the commotion because they were at Nick’s side before he knew it.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Michael asked.

  ‘This lady put some DVDs in her bag without paying.’

  ‘No. I buy from Crystals Galore. See? I have bag.’ the lady’s voice was shrill.

  Mora replied, ‘Okay, well if you did then you won’t mind showing us the items in your bag then.’ She held out her hand.

  Nick looked over at Alan who watched intently. When he saw Nick looking, he twisted away and rushed to talk to a customer.

  The greasy-haired lady thrust the bag indignantly towards Mora. Mora took out the DVDs and turned them over, looking for the Creaky Crystals stickers that they attached to most items. She found the labels, of course.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Mora spoke authoritatively, ‘but these are our items and you don’t seem to have a receipt in the bag. What I will do is put them back on our shelf, and if you leave now then I won’t call the police. But if I see you in here again, that will be the first thing that I do.’ She stared firmly at the short lady.

  The lady glowered back then looked at the lanky man for defence; her face read: ‘Are you going to let her talk to me like that?’

  A fist shot towards Nick but he dodged it, just about. The fabric of the bomber jacket swept across his face with a swish noise. He heard the man grunt in anger.

  ‘Whoa, calm down, man.’ Michael pushed the guy; it toppled him back a few steps.

  Nick’s bladder tightened, embarrassingly. He was not used to aggression; he hated it. Alan sped over to intervene then and said to the couple, ‘Come on, leave the store now please.’

  The man glowered at Nick on his way out, and the lady held her head high. Nick knew why the couple listened to Alan. They weren’t afraid of him; they were stealing on his behalf.

  Mora’s hand was up to her heart. She asked Nick if he was okay. He nodded. Then she turned to Alan and said, ‘Thank you for getting them out of my store.’

  ‘That’s okay. Scum like that aren’t welcome here.’ he laughed affably, but Nick could see straight through him. Then Alan shimmied back to work.

  ‘Thank you, Nick. Thank you, Michael.’ Mora said. ‘I’m sorry you got put in danger like that.’

  ‘No worries.’ Michael said. Nick smiled half-heartedly alongside him, and then Mora went to sit behind one of the counters.

  Nick tapped Michael on the side of his arm, ‘Just out of curiosity, was it your turn to tag-check the jewellery section last week?’

  ‘Yeah. Why?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. I was only asking.’

  ‘Yeah, it was my turn but Alan asked to swap sections with me, so he did it instead.’

  ‘And you didn’t change it on the rota?’

  ‘Nah, what’s the point? We still got both areas done.’

  ‘Okay. Thanks.’ Nick said, then went to tidy some shelves.

  So when it Alan’s turn to tag-check the tarot cards, some were stolen. Then he did the jewellery section last week and Mora noticed some missing. Nick quickly checked the rota for this week and saw that Alan was down for the DVDs & CDs section. He’d already figured it out, but now he was certain.

  When Alan was due to leave at five, Nick found an opportunity to talk to him on the way out. ‘I know what you’re up to, Alan.’ he said. ‘You better stop. Mora doesn’t deserve this.’

  Alan bit his bottom lip. Nick could see the fear in his face. He didn’t reply but nodded then hurried off with a wave, acting like they’d exchanged a normal see-you-later.

  At the end of the shift, Mora let Nick go ten minutes early. He was out of the store by ten to six.

  It was dark already but the lower grounds were lit by lamp posts and stores that were still open. Stood facing the flowers was the tall blonde woman.

  It had stopped raining a few hours ago and the woman’s hair danced in the wind. She was stood completely still, looking down at the flowers on the floor. Her hands were drawn up to cover her mouth.

  Nick approached her, scraping his shoes along the ground so that she would hear him coming and not be startled. She turned and looked at him, her eyebrows pulling together.

  ‘I recognise you.’ she said.

  ‘Well, I did save your life… I thought that maybe you’d come here to say thank you?’

  Her eyebrows loosened, ‘I’m sorry; I was in shock. I didn’t stop to say thank you, I think… I mean…’ she turned and looked at the flower pile, ‘That should be me.’ She pointed at the picture of the dead woman, ‘I should have died there. I felt myself go over the edge. But you saved me.’

  H
e stayed silent.

  And then she asked him, ‘What happened to this woman?’

  ‘She fell, I think. No one seems to know; it could have been suicide or anything. Why did you come here to see me? How did you know my name and where I work?’

  ‘Are you Nicolas Crystan?’

  ‘Yeah, what’s your name?’

  ‘Juliet Maystone.’

  ‘It’s nice to meet you again.’ he said, offering a shy laugh.

  ‘Can we go for a walk? I need to talk to you.’

  ‘It’s freezing cold. How about we go to the pub on the corner?’

  ‘Sure, anywhere. You’re not going to believe what I have to say anyway. I wouldn’t believe it.’ And on that declaration she headed for the pub. Nick followed her, pondering what on earth was going on.

  She didn’t walk with him but slightly ahead and at a pace he struggled to follow; it augmented the effect of the harsh wind on his face. He shivered; being one who never dressed appropriately for the time of year, but Juliet had on fine clothes and didn’t seem bothered by the cold.

  They entered The Crow pub, and Juliet took a seat in a far corner. Nick didn’t feel right using the place for conversation without buying at least a drink, so he offered to get one for Juliet but she said no.

  He bought himself an orange juice. While he waited for the bartender to prepare the drink, he tapped the centre of his left palm repeatedly. He was nervous about speaking with Juliet; she was gorgeous and he wasn’t sure what her intentions for seeking him out were. I’m calm, I’m focused, I’m calm, I’m focused.

  He was passed his drink, and then he walked over and sat across from Juliet.

  The corner in which they sat was warm and dimly lit. There were not many people in the pub and they were distanced enough to allow private conversation.

  ‘So how did you know my name and where I work?’ he asked.

  She didn’t reply immediately, then came out with, ‘Your mother told me.’

  His heart pulled in on itself, inflicting a jolt of pain. Then it moved on to rapidly thud in his chest.

  ‘She’s alive? Do you know where she is?’ his voice came out weak, fragile.

  Juliet frowned and fidgeted, ‘Why do you think she’s alive?’ she asked.

  ‘She disappeared eight years ago, but you’ve spoken with her haven’t you? When did you speak with her?’ he felt hopeful, maybe? He wasn’t sure.

  ‘I’ve gone about this in the wrong order.’ she shook her head, ‘I’m sorry, your mother’s not alive… I thought you knew that.’ She winced and avoided eye contact.

  Emptiness grew inside of him; until right now, he hadn’t realised how much he’d hoped his mum was still alive and about to walk back into his life.

  Maybe he was more like his dad than he originally thought.

  But now he knew that she was dead. He didn’t exactly feel sad; it had been almost nine years after all, so he’d grieved already, but maybe he’d be upset later when he had time to process it all. He actually sensed some relief in finally knowing her fate, followed by guilt for feeling that relief.

  ‘How do you know she’s dead?’

  ‘Look, I’ll tell you what’s been happening to me since the day you pulled me out the way of the car. Just listen to what I have to say, I feel embarrassed enough coming here as it is, and I won’t be surprised if you think I’m crazy. But I’m not crazy. I tried to ignore this, but I couldn’t.’ she gave him a stern look.

  ‘Okay, I’ll listen to you.’ his intuition said he could trust her; she seemed honestly annoyed to be in the position she was in and to have to talk to him.

  She looked past him, momentarily, at an empty table a few metres away. He turned to see what had caught her attention but nothing was there.

  ‘Are you alright?’

  ‘Yes, fine,’ her attention snapped back to him, ‘I was just thinking about something.’

  ‘Okay, tell me what you were going to say.’

  ‘When the car came towards me, I felt it hit me… I really felt it throw me over the edge, and I hit the ground, but when I opened my eyes, I was alive. You saved me, but I felt different. On the way home I started seeing things: blurs, shadows, figures… strange things that don’t make sense. For the next few days I kept on seeing these things, I thought I was in shock maybe, but at one point it became too much. I heard something say to me, “Help me”, in my kitchen and nobody was there.’

  Nick listened to her and tried to gather where she was going with it. He believed what she was saying because he’d had a vision of the future; if that kind of paranormal thing was possible then maybe this was too.

  She continued, ‘I booked an appointment with Tamara Trewin, you probably know who she is… the medium that lives in Willow?’ he nodded to show he knew who she meant. ‘I described to her about the car incident and she did something with her hands, feeling the energy off of me I think, and when she was done she told me that I was displaced.’

  ‘Displaced? What did she mean?’

  ‘I haven’t finished yet, she told me that it was my fate to die and that when you saved me I was physically saved but my soul died, or I spiritually died... something like that.’ Juliet looked down at her hands as if she was ashamed to say these things out loud, ‘She said that I’m anchored into two worlds; this world and the Otherworld.’

  Nick could now see where she was headed with the tale. He almost didn’t want to listen.

  ‘Tamara told me that I could see spirits and that Halloween would be a vulnerable day for me.’ she stopped and rubbed the fingers of both her hands over her temples, ‘I can’t believe I’m saying this aloud; it sounds ridiculous.’

  Nick should his head, ‘No, I believe you.’

  ‘You do?’ she looked him in the eyes. He thought she was about to smile but she looked away again.

  ‘Yeah, I have something to tell you that you might not believe. And I think I know where you’re going with this… my mum appeared to you on Halloween didn’t she?’

  Juliet sighed, relaxed her posture. ‘There’s more to it than that. She asked me to find you. She told me your name and where you work. She told me her name, Samantha Crystan, and she said that you must go to Grendel Manor, that you need to know the truth...’ Juliet looked at Nick as if the mention of Grendel Manor would mean something to him.

  ‘Know the truth? She must mean about how she died?’

  ‘I assume so. She tried to say more but before she could finish, she disappeared. She said she couldn’t stay for long. She started to say that you have to take something with you. She said tell him to go to Grendel Manor and he must take his… but then she vanished.’

  ‘I don’t know what she could have meant by that.’ he replied honestly.

  He had a sip of orange juice; he usually would have savoured the freshness of it, but with all these revelations, the acidic taste made his nervous stomach churn.

  ‘What do you have to tell me?’ Juliet asked.

  ‘The reason I believe everything you’ve said is that something strange happened to me too. A few days before the car almost hit you, I had a vision of it actually hitting you and throwing you over the edge. I saw you die. At the time I thought it was just a weird daydream. Then on that Friday morning, I saw things that matched my daydream and I knew that I had to act fast to save you. That’s how I got to you in time and saved you: because I’d seen the future.’ the tension flew off of his shoulders; such relief to talk to someone about it.

  ‘So… Tamara was right. It was my fate to die.’

  ‘I don’t know, but I wasn’t going to let you die like that.’ he said, and he wasn’t sure if he imagined it but he thought he saw her blush.

  He’d thought that she was gorgeous when he first saw her but now he could really see just how beautiful she was.

  ‘This can’t all be coincidence can it?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘So what are we going to do about it?’

  ‘We?
’ his pitch rose.

  ‘Yes, we, if you’re going to Grendel Manor, then I’m coming with you.’

  Chapter 8

  Juliet thought about Nick on her bus journey home. His hazel brown-green eyes soothed her the few times that she dared to give eye contact, but she also thought he seemed younger and less mature than her.

  They’d agreed that on Monday, he would pick her up from Chanton as it was closer to Grendel Manor than Amiton was. She didn’t give him her address but instead chose a location where he could pick her up from. They exchanged phone numbers before leaving The Crow in case they needed to contact each other.

  It felt as though the bus journey was taking eons; she was on edge again. At The Crow, even as she talked with Nick, there was a woman sat a few tables away; she stared.

  Juliet knew it was a spirit, and she knew who it was. It was the unfortunate woman that had mysteriously fallen and died, the one the memorial was for out the front of Creaky Crystals. She’d read the lady’s name in the light of the shop windows: Rowena Helen Howard.

  The spirit of Rowena fixed her eyes on Juliet for the first minute or so of her conversation, then vanished into thin air. Juliet handled it much better than she did the previous week of phenomena but she’d had more exposure to it by now.

  After Samantha Crystan had appeared on Halloween, Juliet had thought there would be no more spirits, but there was another one only a couple of days later.

  In fact, she’d begun to realise walking around Chanton, that some of the usual by-passers were actually spirits. It could have gone unnoticed to her, but she could tell the difference because the air that surrounded spirits seemed to twitch; like perturbance in the atmosphere, or static on a television screen. And of course it was a give-away if the spirit suddenly materialised or dematerialised.

  She found it most odd that when Samantha Crystan had appeared, lights flickered, the temperature changed, and there were all kinds of theatrics, but that didn’t happen for every spirit. She thought that maybe they came from different depths of the Spiritworld; was it harder for some spirits to appear than others? At first, Samantha wasn’t fully formed or in any detail. Was that because Juliet was new to her ability or was it Samantha trying desperately to get through?