Regret was keeping me back? I shook my head. No way.
“Yes, way,” it said.
Whoa. Did I say that out loud? I thought.
“No. You’re lucky you didn’t mention to anyone your previous attempt at trespassing in this space,” the voice informed me. “You’re lucky no one saw you enter.”
“Why?”
I felt the waves shrug around me, flinging me up and down. “Otherwise I’d have to throw you into that tunnel of light, where you’d have to stare into your regrets forever, with nowhere to hide and no chance to correct them.”
“Oh?”
It chuckled. “No one enters my space and floats away from it, back into the world. I have a reputation to uphold, you know.”
“Uh huh.”
“The truth is everyone has to see me eventually.”
“Everyone?” If the beast was trying to enlighten me, it was failing miserably. And it definitely wasn’t making me feel better about my future. “Bob?”
“Yes.”
“DD?”
“Yes.”
“Faye? Timmy?”
The creature sighed and waves smacked me around. “I did say everyone.”
“Even Shadow?” I persisted in a rather stupid fashion. Let’s just assume my mind had wandered off and gotten lost by this point, and leave it at that.
There was silence. I figured I’d pushed the wrong button and this was it. But no. “Everyone comes through here, but it’s a one way trip. Usually. But I’m willing to make an exception if…” The voice lingered on that promise.
I felt obliged to stutter the obvious response. “What? What? What?”
“You don’t tell Lily Chan or any of the ghosts.”
“Okay,” I agreed without hesitation. Like I had an option.
“Focus on joy.”
Yeah. The Devil’s second cousin told me to focus on joy.
Who was I to argue with the second cousin of the Devil? Or whatever the thing was. Problem was I couldn’t think of anything remotely joyful. My brain was still focused on complete annihilation, on being devoured by some monstrous beast in a black hole and spending eternity swimming around the beast’s digestive tract, or however long it took to eliminate whatever remains of a devoured ghost.
“What don’t you regret?”
“My friends,” I mumbled, thinking about Shadow and Lee. A pale light flickered in the dark, piercingly painful in the most beautiful way. I was inside a globe of dim light. I was the source. I reached out to touch the surface, but there was nothing to touch.
“Goodbye, Axe Cooper.”
My light blended with the dim light of the street lamp shining into the office of The Ghost Post. I sunk through the floor, and landed in the basement, a shuddering puddle of ghost. I stayed in that position for the rest of the night and a good chunk of the day. I stayed until I was certain I could have a conversation without collapsing into a blubbering, incoherent mess.
Like the Chief, I also have a reputation to uphold.
And while I was pulling myself together and before I went over to Lee’s place to see how she was coping with retirement, I made a few resolutions:
I swore to be grateful for my friends.
I swore never to enter the Chief’s office again.
I swore never to sign that 1,000-year Ghost Post employment contract, no matter how much DD nagged me.
I swore never to tell Lee or any of the ghosts about the Chief’s office.
That was already four too many resolutions, so I made one more. I swore these would be my only resolutions. At least for this year.
So now, I can only hope that none of you reading this are ghosts.
Evictions are Messy
“I’m bored.”
Lee was slumped in her sofa, staring vacantly at the TV. It was a couple days after the retirement party. Approaching dusk and cascades of storm showers darkened the day prematurely. Shadow and I had just floated into her apartment when she made her pronouncement.
Shadow shrugged his slim shoulders, the black blazer lifting slightly. “So go get a job.”
“I just retired from a job,” she retorted.
He sighed and shook his head. “Then get another one, if you’re so bored.”
I sunk into the sofa until only my torso, permanently clothed in a collarless white shirt, was showing. My black leather loafers and most of my faded black jeans popped out from underneath the sofa. I must’ve looked like a sofa’s version of a centaur.
I stared at the TV. “Lee, you realise you’re watching static?”
“No.”
“And you realise you only just officially retired,” I continued.
“Yes.”
I frowned and smiled simultaneously. “How can you possibly be bored on Day 2 of your retirement?”
“I don’t have anything to do,” Lee moaned.
Shadow smirked. “I’m sure even the janitor here understands that ‘I’m bored’ means ‘I have nothing to do’. Don’t you have a Tai Chi class you can attend or some sock knitting for noisy grandchildren?”
I coughed at the image of Lee and grandchildren. “Sock knitting?”
“I don’t have grandchildren,” Lee answered. “Noisy or otherwise. And if, by some fluke, I did have any, they wouldn’t dare be noisy. I don’t even have children I can call up to nag or rant at to give me quiet, obedient grandchildren. I’m allergic to wool, so I can’t knit. And I don’t have time to take Tai Chi lessons.”
“Uh…” I scratched my chin. “You’re retired now.”
“Yes, we just established that,” Lee said, staring at the fuzzy TV.
“So you should have lots of time for Tai Chi lessons,” I said.
“Oh.” Lee frowned, slurped her tea and slapped the cup down on the coffee table, splashing liquid over the stained wood. “I don’t want Tai Chi lessons.”
Shadow and I exchanged looks. One of ‘those’ looks. You know the kind: it communicates a whole lot of stuff that you would rather not say out loud but you still want someone to know that you were thinking it.
Shadow tapped a finger against his smirking lips. “You’re bored. You don’t want a new job. You don’t want a new activity. And you don’t want to be bored.”
Lee nodded. “That’s a pretty accurate summary of the situation.”
“No,” Shadow said. “A better summary would be: you’re hopeless. And you have Axe’s two thug friends on your case and they may decide to murder you or worse.”
“That’s our Shadow,” I mused. “Fantastic bedside manners, very encouraging, always optimistic, truly supportive and a great friend.”
“If you have nothing nasty to say, then don’t say anything at all,” Shadow warned.
“Shocking as it may sound,” Lee said, “this isn’t helping.”
“However, Shadow is right about those thugs who are NOT my friends,” I told her. “You should get outta here for a while, until we figure out how to handle them. Why don’t you go hang out with DD? She’s always looking for new recruits.”
Lee sat up straight. “Really?”
“Yup,” I said with full confidence that I didn’t feel. “She could probably use your help. Not with the journalist part. She’s got Bob and Faye to help her write up stories. But the investigative part. You’re good at finding information and solving mysteries. And The Ghost Post’s first priority is helping ghosts figure out why they’re still stuck here.”
Lee tapped her fingers together gently as she stared into the fuzzy TV screen. “Now that is an idea.”
“A bad idea,” Shadow grumped.
Lee smiled. “Oh right. If I’m there, you won’t be able to haunt me. Which makes it an even better idea. What is your deal with DD, anyway?”
Shadow glowered at the teapot as if by shear force of his dark stare, he could make it burst into flames, a power I wouldn’t put past him. “Nothing.”
“Uh huh.” I grinned and rubbed my hands together. “So it’s okay to grill me, but
you’re exempt, eh? Don’t you dare…”
But it was too late. Shadow had vanished into the shadows he somehow created. Lee pushed herself up and in a burst of activity, pulled on a long navy raincoat and brandished her black umbrella, the standard colour for a Vancouver umbrella.
“I’m off,” she announced with a flourish of her umbrella.
“You’re off alright,” I said.
“It’s a good thing you’re a ghost, Axe Cooper,” Lee warned me as she wacked the umbrella through my head. “Otherwise I’d smack you.”
I followed her to the stairwell, and started to descend with her when Shadow’s head popped out of the stair above me. I almost did my ‘Blast it’ yell, but Shadow shook his head frantically and indicated for me to be quiet. I was just glad I hadn’t shot through the ceiling, like I usually do when startled.
“I’ll catch you there, Lee,” I called out. Lee didn’t turn around, just waved her black umbrella over her head and continued marching, her hiking boots thumping against each stair.
“Come up here,” Shadow said. “Your friends are visiting your apartment.”
“Not my friends,” I muttered. “I don’t have any apart from ghosts and Lee.”
I followed Shadow as he pushed through two floors of concrete stairs and exited near my former home. We could hear muffled voices leaking through the door.
“How’s the poltergeist training coming along?” Shadow asked conversationally as we entered my apartment.
I shrugged, my eyes set to ‘grey stone glare’ as I watched Cal and Frankenstein pull off the sofa cushions. A cloud of dust puffed up. “It’s coming along alright, I guess.”
“I know you’ve been dead a month,” Shadow continued, glancing around, “but this place is really dusty. Didn’t you believe in housecleaning?”
“Nope, I didn’t, along with ghosts and other nuisances I didn’t believe in.” I frowned at Shadow. “Don’t you believe in minding your own business?”
“Of course not. What’s the fun in that?”
The two of us floated in the dust that was puffing off of each surface Cal and Frankenstein moved, which was every surface not permanently fixed to the wall or floor.
“What a dump,” Cal muttered. Frankenstein grunted in what may have been agreement, disagreement or a supressed sneeze.
“Where’d you hide it?” Shadow asked.
“What?”
“Whatever you stole.”
I sighed, closed my eyes, counted to ten, pretended to breathe and replied, “Shadow. I didn’t steal from them. Stealing from them is like making a decision to commit suicide in the most painful way imaginable and then doing it several times over.”
“Doing what several times?” Shadow asked. “The making decision part?”
“The committing suicide in painful ways part.”
Shadow stuck his hands into his blazer pockets. “So why are they ripping this place into dusty pieces?”
“Don’t know. Really. I don’t know.”
“What are you doing here?” someone demanded.
Everyone turned to face the door, where Mr. Smits stood, leaning against the doorframe and clearly trying to catch his breath. Behind him were three burly men with the logo of a moving company on their matching shirts.
Cal straightened up from where he was ripping a pillow apart. Frankenstein looked like he was almost enjoying himself and lumbered into the bedroom to start searching there.
“I don’t like this, not one bit,” Mr. Smits continued, wagging his head so that his double chins wobbled. “How did you get in here?”
Cal smiled, all charm and grace. I wanted to smack him.
“Mr. Smits, I realise how this must look.”
“It looks like a break-in,” Mr. Smits said loudly. “That’s what it looks like. Every bit of it.”
Undeterred by the implied accusation, Cal nodded understandingly. “I can see that, yes, sir, I can. Truth is, Axe Cooper stole something mighty important and valuable from my employer, and I’m just here to set things right, that’s all.”
Shadow swivelled to face me. If I’d been alive, I would’ve blushed. Then again, If I’d been alive, Cal would’ve killed me by now. So either way, I’d be dead and not blushing. I shrugged my shoulders. “No idea.”
“I never did trust that janitor,” Mr. Smits muttered. “Those nasty, dangerous, shifty eyes…”
“Who’s he calling shifty?” I protested mildly. “Shadow, do you think I have shifty eyes?”
“No comment.”
“…and the way he kept to himself,” Mr. Smits continued. “Never had any friends over. Never made any noise for the neighbours to complain about. Not normal for a young man, not one little bit.”
Cal nodded and clucked sympathetically. “Yes, sir, you clearly understand my predicament. It’s mighty fortunate he didn’t steal from you, by the sounds of things.”
Mr. Smits gasped. “You’re right.” One of the big mover guys shifted and coughed, bringing Mr. Smits back to the topic. “Still, you can’t just come walking in here and…” He waved an arm to indicate the mess.
“Understood,” Cal agreed contritely. “Is Mr. Cooper moving today?”
“I should say so,” Mr. Smits guffawed. “I’m evicting him. Throwing his junk onto the street. Three months of rent lost.”
“Actually, it’s two month’s rent,” I corrected. “I was dead for one of those months. And he has my deposit to cover the other one.”
Cal smiled widely. “That’s a loss, that is. Why don’t I limit the damage and buy this junk off you?” He pulled out a wad of cash and began peeling off bills like he was flipping through a newspaper.
Mr. Smits’ eyes glistened at the sight and he licked his fat lips. He could’ve been staring at a plate of Lee’s unbeatable spring rolls with the way he was drooling. “That would certainly help me out a bit.”
“That’s outrageous,” I stormed. “He can’t just sell my junk like that.”
Shadow’s eyebrows rose up. “You were okay with him throwing your junk onto the street, but not with him selling it? Hm. What’s the deal with you and Cal?”
“History,” I growled.
I glanced around for something to throw at Cal, something light enough for me to pick up that would be heavy enough to bruise his handsome face without zapping all my energy. I spotted a vase on a bookshelf. It looked about right: heavy enough to hurt, light enough for me to throw. I focused. My focus might have been a tad off. The stuffing of the disembowelled sofa cushions twitched and a flurry of white fluff swirled around Mr. Smits and Cal like a snow storm, stirring up more dust.
The two men coughed and Mr. Smits mumbled, “There must be a bit of a problem with the ventilation shaft.”
“Oh my,” Shadow murmured. “They look terrified. If only Santa Claus was here, they’d run for their lives.”
I scowled, let the fluff settle down and used my remaining energy to heave the vase at Cal’s head. A still-intact pillow went sailing through the air.
“Yes, sir,” Cal said as he glanced around, “you surely need to check on that ventilation system.”
“Blast it,” I said as Shadow burst out laughing.
Once Shadow was able to talk without laughing, he said in between chuckles, “You better ask Faye for more lessons. Compared to you, I think the Easter Bunny is scarier.”
Message or Murder
When Lee walked in, I stopped pacing in the air and rounded on her. “Where’ve you been? Do you have any idea how late it is? It’s…” I checked the small clock on the bookshelf. “It’s after one in the morning.”
Lee looked over at Shadow, who was lounging on the shelf, literally stuck in some books. A hefty looking Chinese-English dictionary stuck out of his waist. He shrugged and said coolly, “I did try to tell him he was worrying too much.”
“You told me I was being an old woman,” I reminded him, my face scrunched up with my Popeye glare.
“You have control issues,” he retorte
d.
“Okay, young grasshoppers, that’s enough,” Lee said.
“That’s right,” Shadow agreed. “No pettifogging.”
“Exactly.” She tossed her wet raincoat and umbrella at me. “Can you pick that up for me?”
“I’m not your butler,” I grumbled.
“And you’re also not my mother or chaperone,” she replied smoothly.
“Ouch,” Shadow chuckled. He became serious when I turned on him, but his eyes still laughed at me.
“DD was thrilled about me volunteering,” Lee continued. “She’s asked Faye and me to investigate a series of unsolved murders that she believes are linked with the Vancouver branch of the UN Gang. How’s that for a coincidence?”
Lee was leaning over to pick up her jacket, so she didn’t see what I saw.
“Spit it out, Shadow,” I ordered.
Shadow sunk down onto the next shelf and then slithered out, looking darker. “Spitting is vulgar. I don’t spit. Murder and maim, perhaps, but not spit.”
“I saw that.”
“Saw what?” Lee demanded as she straightened up. “Is he spitting on my floor?”
“His expression,” I explained. “When you mentioned the UN Gang. Same as before, when I said I’d done a bit of work for them. Both times, he flinched, like I’d just hit him.” I flexed my hands, as if preparing to do just that.
The doorbell rang.
Shadow smiled, his teeth flashing neon against the shadows that formed around him. “Saved by the bell,” and he disappeared.
“He’s hiding something,” I told Lee.
She smiled. “Aren’t we all,” and she opened the door.
“Good evening, ma’am.” It was Cal, his hands clasped in front of him, his head slightly bowed, contrite and all. Frankenstein wasn’t with him. “I hope I’m not disturbing you?”
“Yes. You are,” Lee said, her narrow black eyes sharp. “Do you have any idea how late it is?”
“Now there’s no need for upset, ma’am,” Cal said, holding up his hands. “I just need to know where Axe Cooper is and I know you know where he is. I heard you talking with him. And I know Axe. He doesn’t die too easily but he’s real good…”
Fatal Secrets Page 5