I understood the audience in the chapel loud and clear. They were here to mourn the death of a seventeen-year-old girl.
Leo avoided eye contact with my dad like he wasn’t here to mourn my death but to accept blame for it, and while my dad was many things, he wasn’t cruel. The moment he copped a glimpse of Leo’s distress he rushed with Mom in tow to embrace Leo. He arrived seconds before Leo’s mom and dad and the five of them clung to each other like they were on a life raft in the ocean. Leo’s sisters hurried over from their seats to join the circle, then the rest of the mourners got up and slotted into every available inch until there was a giant huddle of people in the middle of the chapel, all balling their eyes out.
Talk about uncomfortable. Talk about feeling left out.
Joining the group wasn’t an option; I spied Teri, craning her head as if searching for me. Audrey returned my earlier favor of giving her a break by grabbing tightly onto her mother’s arm and pulling her deeper into the huddle.
Finally, the cluster of grievers broke away one by one and returned to their seats. Overhead, an unknown song wafted through the speakers. If this unknown guitarist’s slow, mournful tune was designed to render the audience more teary-eyed and grief-stricken than when they’d first walked in, the mission was accomplished. After a dozen bars of the sad instrumental, the voice kicked in and familiarity brushed at the hairs on my neck. I’d have recognized Leo’s voice even if he were buried under a hundred feet of rubble.
This song must have been from his private collection. I knew his band’s music; this wasn’t it. Volt play heavy metal and Leo, as their singer, growled out inaudible monotones despite having a terrific voice. The boy who sang this song had a gentle lilt beleaguered by tragedy.
It wasn’t only the mourners who were affected by the melody and lyrics. I listened, too:
“When it’s cold
I miss you most
Your smile used to keep me warm
Now you’re gone
I am a ghost
My heart beat only for you
If I never breathed again
I wouldn’t care
Because you’ll never breathe again
And that’s not fair
Of all the treasures in the world
I’d only miss the one
A million things are nothing
Without you.”
“Oh, Leo,” I whispered. “You’ll win a place in the finals for sure.”
The song ended and Shanessa and Natalie solemnly walked up onto the small platform.
“We’d like to dedicate this song to our dear friend,” Shanessa huskily breathed.
“She wrote it,” Natalie added, and then as if realizing that I was missing, she let out a gulp and dabbed at her eyes.
A collective sigh of grief swept across the room when Shanessa hit the first note on her guitar:
“As the night falls
As the dark calls
As the wind toils
And carries me away
When the day breaks
When my heart aches
When all it takes
Is for you to stay
I will always be by your side
I will always come for the ride
I will always keep pictures of you inside
To keep you close
Although I am alone I am not afraid.”
I wanted to applaud and cheer and sing the second verse, but the silence that filled the room was overwhelming; dead or not, my voice would have rung out as loudly as if I were in front of a megaphone.
Shanessa and Natalie stepped down off the stage and when they walked past Leo they rested a hand each on his shoulder. He nodded and smiled weakly. They took their seats with their heads bowed and hands gripping onto their tissues for dear life. The minister returned to the lectern and resumed talking about my young life. I’d never seen him before and I resented his attempts at familiarity, but it wasn’t like anyone else was in a fit state to do the job.
A warm wind blew across my cheek. I turned to see William’s face inches away from mine. He ran a finger across his eye. “You should have joined your friends up there on stage. You have a lovely voice. Still think coming here was a good idea?”
I hoped my scowl was enough of an answer.
When Leo rose up from his seat, all sound was sucked out of the room. He staggered toward the front of the chapel, zigzagging toward my coffin. The crippling grief was plain to see. I couldn’t look. I also couldn’t not look.
I held my breath, fearing he’d fall on his face, but he made it to the front of the room and stopped inches away from my casket. Every set of eyes was fixed upon the boy who didn’t wear grief or suits well, and we watched in muted fascination as he placed a white-painted cross enveloped with yellow roses on top of my coffin.
The mourners didn’t understand the significance of the cross and the roses. I did. And it zapped the lifeless breath out of me. It affected Leo, too. He staggered back to the pew, tears freely flowing down his face.
“Enough,” I said, turning to William. “Please take me home.”
“As you wish.”
Immediately we were in the woods at the foot of the path leading to the cabin. He put his arm around me protectively and said, “I’m sorry you had to witness that.”
I leaned into his embrace, thankful for the support. “I’m not. It just makes me more determined to find a way to be with him. He needs me, now more than ever.”
“The dead don’t belong with the living.”
I pulled away and gazed into his eyes. “I don’t believe that. I don’t think you do either. I mean, look at you and Anne…every weekend this cabin is filled with people who are alive and you hang out with them when you could lock yourselves away. Audrey walks the astral plane and hangs out with spirits. It must be perfectly fine for two forces to exist on the same plane.”
“Why do you want so badly to be with him?”
Genuine concern filled William’s face and I wanted to tell him the truth. Instead, I said, “Because I love him.”
Not a lie, but not the truth he was digging for.
“But why do you want so badly to defy the laws of nature and return from the grave?”
I walked up the steps to the cabin and sat down on the patio swing. William followed. What could he do with my secret if I told him? He had nobody he could tell it too, except Anne and who could she gossip with? But they could judge Leo poorly, and for that reason alone, I would never betray Leo. His secret was safe with me.
“I need to know that Leo loves me,” I told William. “The night I died we had a huge fight. I can’t find peace until I know for sure that he would have loved me with all his heart, that he loved me no matter what.”
William sat beside me on the swing. “The boy is clearly devastated over your death. I would say that is a clear sign he loved you no matter what.”
“It’s complicated. There was an unresolved issue.”
“There usually is.” His eyes narrowed. “You really believe returning from the dead will resolve this issue?”
“It’s all I can think about. Will you help me?”
William looked deep into my eyes, probing me. At last he looked away. “I cannot.”
I didn’t believe him. Suddenly angry, I closed my eyes and willed myself inside the cabin. William might not want to help me, but I suspected Anne would.
The moment I materialized, Anne rushed to greet me. She wore a huge smile; I knew I’d made the right choice by seeking her help, even if I wasn’t exactly sure how. Yet I knew one place to start.
“Anne, can you teach me how to touch objects?”
She stared at me with her brow furrowed. “I can try. I merely visualize the action and it is done. I am not sure I can teach you how.”
“I’ll bet you can. This is important to me, Anne.”
We moved over to the window. I gazed through the open curtains; a path led to the hiking trails, a dirt road led to the main highw
ay, sunbeams sliced through the trees, birds hopped from tree to tree. A stunning place to call home, but I would not accept that my destiny lay in being trapped in limbo.
I closed my eyes to the world I wished to have no claim over and tried to sweep aside the curtains, but my hand swept through the air.
“Please teach me to close the curtains.”
Anne’s delicately gloved hand grabbed a handful of the fabric, and effortlessly the curtains moved along the rail to first close, then open. She wore a look of concentration. “You’ll need to focus on connecting with the fabric. Allow the energy from within to flow into your hand and out. The electric pulse you experience when your hand nears an object is like a magnetic pull. Ignore and push through.”
I did as she instructed, focusing on lifting my hand through the fabric, ignoring the buzzing in my head. I lifted my hand…and when I opened my eyes, I was majorly disappointed to find my hand had disappeared through to the other side of the cabin wall.
“Why won’t this work?”
There was an authoritative edge to Anne’s voice. “Try again.”
I did, and then I tried again, and again. I spent hours attempting to move objects. Each attempt failed dismally. When a breeze blew in, it mocked me by stirring the curtains.
“This is pointless,” I whined. “Audrey says poltergeists can move objects because they’re old. I died a week ago.”
Anne, who had the patience of a saint and therefore couldn’t comprehend how I was a constant wound up ball of frustration unraveling in front of her, laughed gently. “Moving objects took a while to master when I first started. But I eventually learned. You’ll eventually learn, too.”
“I don’t have an eternity to learn. I have a few days. A few weeks tops.”
“Try opening the curtain again,” Anne urged. “This time, envisage the love that binds you to Leo.”
The need for women to prove themselves mustn’t have changed over the centuries. Anne got that I needed to do this, and I was grateful for her encouraging words. She could have chosen to slip off into the other room and ignore me, and then where would I have been? So I did as she instructed. I conjured up images of Leo the way I knew him best, not the empty shell from the funeral. His skin was the color of honey. His pouty lips appeared as if they waited to be kissed but only looked this way because his mind was usually encased in lyrics that his lips couldn’t help utter. His hair was chestnut brown and unruly, like a lion’s mane. I pictured his muscled arms holding me around my waist. I pictured him pulling me toward him so his hips could grind into mine.
I inhaled sharply when my hand touched an indescribable something. I imagined Leo’s strong jaw line and my hand caressing it. I then concentrated on sweeping the imaginary fringe out of his eyes. When I finally snuck a peak through half-slit lids, I was greeted by a beam of sunlight slicing through the trees outside. This was the first morning where I hadn’t open my eyes and wished the sunlight away.
I laughed out loud, jubilated by my success. It felt as if a weight was lifted off my chest and for this brief moment I could fool myself into thinking that the hardest part of this ordeal was over.
***
I spent the remainder of the day moving everything in the cabin that wasn’t nailed down – cutlery, figurines, books, cushions, even the toaster found a new home on the opposite side of the kitchen bench. Anne clapped in time to my movements, which inspired me to sweep her up in my arms and dance with her around the room. Midway through our waltz, the door swung open with a bang.
William stood in the doorway. His features were forlorn. “You should have stayed after the service,” he snipped. “There was cake. Smelled divine. Wish I could have eaten. Wish I could do many things.”
Anne’s pale face flushed pink as if she was ashamed at being caught enjoying herself. The hairs on my neck bristled.
“Just because you guys are cursed doesn’t mean you have to give up on the things you enjoy,” I said.
William stayed a reasonable distance away from the door to avoid the effect of it slamming in his face. He prowled the deck as if bristling with attitude. For once I was glad he wasn’t able to enter.
“I would never begrudge my love her happiness,” he said. “Besides, Anne was always more fond of dancing.”
“And you were more fond of cake,” she replied with a wry smile.
Had these two had a fight while I was at my funeral? A part of me was glad they were acting like a normal bickering couple. Because a part of me thought, if they could find normalcy in their afterlife, maybe so could I? After I’d found a way to communicate with Leo, of course.
Outside on the patio, William continued to pace back and forth. “What if your plan succeeds, Ruby? What if you find a way to beat your curse? You’ll leave and forget all about us.”
“Oh, William, we are just having a little fun.” Anne said. “I haven’t danced in a long, long time. And what is this talk of Ruby beating her curse and forgetting about us? Ruby would never do that.”
“I’d never forget about you,” I told her.
The hollow words hung in the air. Maybe they would have had the desired effect if I’d looked her in the eye.
“Miss Parker,” William chimed. “Will you join me for a stroll in the woods?”
He was from an era where chivalry and gallantry were commonplace. I was not. I couldn’t tell if he was being genuine or condescending. He was definitely being secretive.
“Fresh air does sound good. Do you mind, Anne?”
She dipped into a little curtsey and slipped quietly into the other room.
Strange how our footsteps left no imprint or sound on the carpet of dried leaves and twigs. Stranger still was when I stepped over a fallen log and William walked right through it. I hoped I wasn’t sticking around long enough to become too accustomed to being a ghost.
After we’d walked twenty feet, William stopped and reached inside his coat pocket. In his palm sat a gold pocket watch. It had an intricately carved face, but that was as much as I saw before he snapped shut the lid and encased the watch with his fist.
“This watch was to be a family heirloom. Do you know what this watch represents? Time, Ruby. Or in my case the agony of having too much of it. I observed my mother and father grow old and die. Then I watched my sister and her children grow old and die, and then their children, and so on until there was nobody left who remembered me.”
Was it coincidence that he’d stopped at the top of the embankment which I’d inadvertently driven mom’s car into and totaled both it and me? I’d avoided this place. It was my true gravesite, even though the cabin was where I felt the strongest magnetic pull. I didn’t question why I felt nothing for this spot, I was just grateful I didn’t have to spend eternity trapped in the hollow.
I removed the watch from William’s hand to take a good look at it. The facing was elaborately decorated. On the back was an inscription:
ONE WISH AT A TIME.
I sighed. “If you really believe I should give up clinging to the love I have for Leo, then you should do likewise and get rid of this watch.”
He snatched it from me and slipped it back into his pocket. His voice was hard when he said, “My curse compels me to hold on to this object.”
“And my curse compels me to hold on to the love I have for Leo. My heart and soul belong to him. If there is a way to go back, I’ll take it, no matter what.”
“It is easy to ignore consequence, yet once it seeks us out it is impossible to run from it.” He turned his back to me and stared down the embankment. “What if I knew a way for you to be with Leo?”
“Really? You know a way? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
He continued to stare down into the hollow. Was he reminiscing or doing this to avoid the confrontation he must have seen in my eyes?
“It can be dangerous”—”
“I don’t care. If I can be with Leo, the risk is worth it. Tell me what to do.”
At last he turned to
face me. “You did not let me finish. It is not dangerous for you.”
Conveniently, I was able to set aside any concern over hurting someone else in order to achieve this small miracle, because I couldn’t end up trapped in limbo watching Leo’s misery deepen until he, not I, became the walking dead.
“Tell me what I have to do.”
William did. I hardly saw what was so dangerous. Morally wrong, perhaps, but not dangerous.
Chapter Six
Providence wasn’t a metropolis; this ‘chocolate box’ town backed onto a thousand or so hectare of woodlands. Once famous for its gold mines, it still bore the marks of ancient diggings yet was mostly now an ideal place for horny teenagers to explore, if you could get past the ghost stories. We were bordered on two sides by farmland that belonged to surrounding counties, and a ravine that was habitable only to mountain goats and deer. So, the three major choices for a person to hang out were the woods, at home, or in town.
I needed to find my half-sister, Audrey. The problem was that I didn’t know her well enough to know if she was the adventurous type that liked to hike through haunted woods, the café/cinema/art gallery type, or the type to sit at home and study. Somehow I suspected she did neither of these things with her spare time. Could I blame her? If I had the ability to travel the astral plane I would choose China or Paris over the Providence shopping mall.
It didn’t matter where Audrey was travelling, her physical body would be in her bedroom.
Things operated differently in this deathly dimension. I set off through the woods. My first step was over a log. My second was up onto the sidewalk of Main Street.
People passed me by and it took a few ignored greetings to ram it home that dead people could see but were only seen by certain people, of which none of these passersby were.
Little Red Gem Page 7