She placed a hand on my arm, as if she wouldn’t be able to stay upright without it. I could feel my arm tingle where our energies touched.
“Thank you, Mr. Cooper. Maybe you are learning a thing or two about manners from your friend Cal,” Faye said in between sniffs and sobs.
My mouth twitched into a slight smile. I didn’t bother to correct her about my manners or Cal. “Yeah, sure. Maybe.”
How to Catch Your Ghost
“Damn, you are persistent.”
Lee leaned against the doorframe, her arms tucked into the wide sleeves of her black Chinese pyjama suite. DD, a snivelling Faye and I stared over her shoulder. I groaned while Faye almost smiled.
“Blast it all, can’t he just go back to cowboy country?” I muttered.
“Better yet, he could just die and stay with us,” Faye suggested, her eyes brightening at the thought.
DD sniffed dismissively and returned to the centre of The Ghost Post office. “We already have a couple writers, a therapist, a security guard who’s never here and a janitor who never cleans,” she informed us. “We don’t need a dandy boy.”
I grinned. Cal the Dandy Boy. I liked it. Score for DD.
Lee twisted partially around. “Who’s the therapist?”
DD smiled. “I am.”
I grimaced. “Oh yeah, with that bedside manner, you’d convince almost any ghost to move on, even if it’s straight to hell.”
Lee snickered. Dandy Cal, who was still standing out in the dingy hallway of our derelict, soon-to-be torn down building, gaped at her. All he had heard or seen was Lee talking to herself.
“Are you…” He licked his lips and glanced over her into the office that was barely lit by street lamps and, as far as he could see, empty. “Are you talking to, you know.” He leaned closer and whispered, “A ghost?”
Lee yawned. “You mean the dead people? The spooks? The ghouls? The souls of the damned…”
“Who’s she calling a ghoul?” Faye muttered, her fair eyebrows squirrelling up into a scowl.
Cal blanched. “Ah…”
“Oh yes, I am indeed talking with them.” Lee smiled brightly. “There’s a whole room of them in here.”
She jabbed her thumb over her shoulder to indicate the room full of phantoms. He peered in, squinting his eyes as if he had a hope of seeing anything interesting. He frowned. An empty room wasn’t that interesting. No furniture, no people. The floor was covered in white tiles, the walls painted white and the ceiling… Yup, you guessed it. White. Two windows faced the empty street and the street lamps.
Oh, and let’s not forget the white door leading to the office of the Chief, a ghoul I hadn’t officially met (as far as anyone else was concerned, that is) and, according to DD, I did not want to meet (I could vouch for that).
Back to the point: the only thing visible to Cal, apart from Lee, was a floor lamp that Lee had insisted on bringing in, since the light from the streetlamps still left the office too gloomy for her taste.
“Cal, it’s past midnight,” she continued in a tone generally reserved for little children who insist they don’t ever need to sleep. She was doing that maternal, patronising thing again. I was glad it wasn’t at me. “What are you doing here? And how did you find me?”
Cal smiled, but he didn’t look as charming or confident as before. He kept glancing into the office space, twitching slightly as if expecting a volley of books to come flying at him. “My colleague’s been following you around and told me where you are.”
“Frankenstein’s here?” I growled, wishing I really did have a bookshelf of books as ammo.
Faye popped her head through the wall to check. “Oh yeah, the big guy is out there, doing his best to look ugly and unfashionable.”
“I have two poltergeists in the room with me,” Lee informed Cal calmly. “And I’m not afraid to use them.”
“I object,” Faye gasped. “You should be very afraid to use us.”
“If you continue stalking me…”
Cal held up his hands. “No, ma’am. I don’t mean no harm.” He glanced around and asked, “What’s behind that door?” He gestured to the door leading to the Chief’s office.
Lee shook her head. “You don’t want to go in there. It leads straight into a black hole or a pit from hell or something like that.”
Cal blanched further.
“What do you want, Cal? If not trouble…”
“Oh, definitely not. I’m under strict orders to keep quiet and outta trouble, see. We have a bit of…” He frowned and shook his head. “That don’t matter. What I mean is I want to organise a… Um, well, séance.”
“A séance?” Lee repeated, eyebrows rising into her hairline.
“He wants to keep things quiet?” Faye grinned and oh, boy, did she remind me of Shadow when she did that: devilish sense of evil humour and no remorse.
“Sure,” Cal answered hesitantly. “You know, where us living folks talk with those who, you know, are dead.” He gulped.
“I know what a séance is, Cal,” Lee said dryly. “So you believe me that Axe is dead?”
“Ah… Yes. I think so.”
“Hm.” Lee did her dentist drill stare. “If you are so desperate to talk with Axe, why don’t you just ask me the questions and I’ll tell you what he says?”
“No, ma’am.” He held his hands up in front of him. “No offence, but I prefer a third party, neutral and all.”
I scoffed, Faye beamed and Lee yawned. “No offence taken. Fine. I’m free tomorrow evening. Oh, and Axe said something about not bringing any anchovies.”
Cal’s smile wilted and his skin looked a bit green. “Ah, sure.” He scurried away.
“Anchovies?” Lee asked as she closed the door.
I shrugged. “He understood.”
“Oooo,” Faye spun around me in a swirl of blue. “Is it a code word? It is, isn’t it? Axe Cooper, you tell me right now.”
I rolled my eyes. “It means leave the guns outside. And I’m going to make sure they do.”
Lee didn’t like me haunting her place all the time, but I insisted. Until Cal was well gone and on the other side of the Rockies, I didn’t trust him and his ‘don’t want no trouble, ma’am’ line. I’d seen what happened when he did want trouble. Armed with a bookshelf of ammo, I figured I could buy Lee time to run. So when the doorbell rang the next evening at her place, I started to wiggle out the reassuringly heavy Chinese-English dictionary.
“Don’t you dare make another mess, Cooper,” Lee warned me as she marched to the door.
“I’d rather have a mess made with books than with your blood and guts,” I stated. “Wouldn’t you?”
Lee paused, glanced upward as if she had to think about that carefully, and replied, “I’d have to think about that.” Straightening her shoulders and back (not that she was slouching), she yanked open the door and stared.
In the hallway was an apparition. I wasn’t sure if it was a ghost at first, until I saw Cal talking with it. The creature flowed into the room, trailing wisps of gauzy shawls. It was a fairy’s version of a mummy, I decided. Or maybe it was the mummy’s version of a fairy. It might even have had wings under the abundant layers of shimmery shawls and glittering jewellery that jingled and jangled. Its head was covered in a tall, pointed turban-type hat, from the top of which a shawl floated down over the face.
“Ma’am,” Cal said in his irritatingly polite, country drawl, “this is the lady who does séances.”
The fairy mummy held up a hand that was covered in an elegant, sequin-covered glove. “Please,” it whispered in a woman’s voice. “I do not ‘do’ séances.” She coughed delicately, as if recovering from the unintended insult. “I facilitate conversations with those who now reside on the other side. I…” She paused, hand moving over her heart. “Am Aurora.”
“Uh huh.” Lee clasped her hands in front of her, stared at Cal, and asked, “Where’d you pick this one up at? The circus?”
“I sense the doubting hea
rt,” Aurora whispered. “A doubter of the existence of that other world.”
“Oh, I have doubts alright,” Lee agreed. “Just not about the other world, which, by the way, is right in front of you.”
I floated in front of them, sticking my tongue out, but Aurora ignored me or couldn’t see me.
“We need to begin,” she whispered, walking to the dining room table. She pushed aside a tray that held a jug of water and three glasses to one side. She removed one of the shawls from around her shoulders and flung it over the table. “With this ancient fabric from long ago, I set the scene.”
“And what a scene,” Lee said. “Just how ancient is your tablecloth?”
Aurora sniffed, like it was beneath her to answer a blasphemous doubter of the other world. “It is a family heirloom, faithfully passed down from mother to daughter for untold generations. It is immersed in the aura of otherworldly visitations.”
“It’s immersed alright,” Lee muttered to me. “In bull…”
“Fascinating, isn’t it?” Cal interrupted her, his smile rigid.
“Oh sure,” Lee said.
Aurora the mummified fairy ignored them both. I must admit she was really good at ignoring distractions. She didn’t so much as twitch when I waved my hand through her head. Instead, she pulled out a huge, red candle from some fold in her billowing clothes. She set it in the middle of her ancient tablecloth and lit the wick. Cinnamon scented the air. “With this light, I banish darkness”
“I wish Shadow was here to see this,” I said.
Aurora lifted the veil from over her face. She was older than she sounded. I mean, a lot older. She smiled condescendingly, as if she was doing us all a favour by allowing us to use the air in which she breathed. “Sit, my children. We must make the circle. It is essential that we do not break it. Come now, don’t be shy. Sit and hold hands.”
I grinned. “Go on, children,” I nodded to Lee who shook her head and glared at me before collapsing into a chair. She grabbed Cal’s and Aurora’s hands and squeezed tightly.
“Axe Cooper,” Aurora whispered. “From beyond the grave, come forth, Axe Cooper.”
I shivered. “That’s kinda creepy.”
“I am sensing a presence. It is approaching. Axe Cooper, visit us from that other world.”
I floated around the table so I could make faces at Lee, who was trying not to laugh. She shook her head and mouthed, ‘Go away.’
“He is near,” Aurora breathed out. “I sense him, but he hesitates. He feels the doubt.” She glared at Lee, who coughed back a laugh.
“Do you see him?” Cal whispered, staring around the room, his eyes squinting as if that would help his vision.
Lee smiled. “I don’t know about the Northern Lights lady over here, but I definitely see someone.”
Shadow slipped out of the darkness, his eyes widening at the scene. I grinned over at him.
“I guess the séance actually worked. It summoned you. Glad you could make it.” I was about to crack a joke, but didn’t.
There was something different about Shadow. I peered closer, through the shady mist that mingled in the air around the tall, dark young man. My eyes widened.
“You’re worried,” I gasped. “You are actually worried.”
Shadow scowled, the worry lines replaced with his usual hard edge. “We have a problem.”
“We do?” I asked.
Lee said, “No kidding we have a problem. I’m holding hands with these two and I have no idea if they used soap anytime today. Where’s the hand sanitizer when you need it?”
“Please keep quiet,” Aurora hissed. “I’m trying to concentrate.”
“Remember what happened at the Poltergeist Club?” Shadow asked, ignoring the living in the room.
I raised my eyebrows. “That’s rather hard to forget. Faye has refused to leave The Ghost Post ever since. Why?”
Before Shadow could answer, the deathmark of the third cowboy slunk into the room. It also looked different. Stronger. Bigger. I guess a diet of ghosts suited it. I guess my question about its dietary preference was also answered after the Poltergeist Club incident: Ghost Eater had in fact developed a taste for ghosts. At the risk of pointing out the obvious, this dietary preference did not bode well for the ghosts in the room.
Aurora was still mumbling some nonsense about breaking down the veil, removing the doubt and crossing over. I wanted to slap a book at her and tell her the ghosts were already in the room without crossing over anything. Lee eyed the silhouette of the cowboy. Its hat was tipped over the featureless face.
“It looks a little…” I hesitated.
“Faster,” Lee said.
“My dear, there is no rushing these things,” Aurora muttered to her.
“Fatter,” Shadows added.
“Fatter?” Lee asked. “Maybe.”
Cal and Aurora both looked at her. Lee smiled and shrugged her shoulders.
“It’s okay, Lee,” I reassured her as Shadow and I shifted away from Ghost Eater. I briefly considered sinking to the basement and escaping, but I didn’t want to leave Lee with Cal. “Remember, deathmarks can’t hurt the living, only us dead dudes.”
“Uh, Axe?” Shadow said, his eyes glittering. “That may no longer be the case with this one.”
Ghost Eater, who may have been as bemused and irritated about the séance as I was, picked up Aurora’s hefty candle. The flame flickered angrily.
“Is it supposed to be able to do that?” I stared at the shadow holding a candle.
“No, it’s not,” Shadow muttered, withdrawing further away. “Maybe it absorbed the power of the poltergeists it ate.”
Lee opened her mouth to say something to her two living guests who were gaping at the levitating candle.
“Is that thing on a string?” Cal drawled, but his voice squeaked slightly.
Ghost Eater launched the candle at the clairvoyant’s head. The candle hit its target with a satisfactory thump. Hot, red, liquid wax spattered all around, mostly on Aurora who shrieked and jumped up, breaking that essential and not-to-be-broken circle. The candle fell onto the ancient table cover, where it immediately began to burn a hole in the fabric.
“Bad ghost, naughty spirit,” Aurora panted as she waved one of her shawls at the candle. The flame, encouraged by all that waving and hot air, puffed up and the tablecloth caught on fire, the hole widening.
Cal paid no attention to the small fire in front of him. “Axe Cooper, I know you’re here. Just you come out where I can see you.”
“Is this guy for real?” Shadow asked as we continued to move around the room, away from the deathmark.
“Yup,” I answered. “He’s a real one, for sure. Real stupid.”
Lee sighed, shook her head, picked up the jug of water and tossed the contents onto the tablecloth. The fire sizzled and spluttered down to a trickle of smoke.
“My heirloom, my ancient tablecloth,” Aurora wailed, wringing her hands, her lips quivering.
“You mean the one made in China?” Lee asked. “My neighbour has one just like this.”
“Fine,” Aurora fumed, her whispery voice as finished as the cloth. “It’s made in China and it’s not that ancient, but that doesn’t make it any less special. And my mom did give it to me.”
“Oh, it’s special, all right,” Lee said in her sweetest tone. “With that hole, it’s even more special. One of a kind, in fact.”
Ghost Eater might’ve thought so too, for it yanked the cloth off the table and flung it at Lee.
“Hey, I didn’t do anything to deserve that,” she protested.
“Axe Cooper, you tell me where Amos is. You tell me where you hid that body!” shouted Cal.
Aurora stopped flapping her veils around, Lee closed her mouth, the deathmark leaned its head to one side and Shadow crossed his arms over his chest and glowered at me.
“What body?” Shadow asked softly.
“You really should take better care of your things,” Lee lectured Cal. “It’
s one thing to lose your mind, but to lose a whole body is quite unacceptable. And who’s Amos?”
“I did not sign up for this sort of thing,” wailed Aurora.
“Is that what he’s after?” I mused, staring at Cal. “Lee, ask him why he wants to know.”
Lee scowled at me. “What do I look like, the paranormal postman? Fine. Cal, Axe wants to know why you want to know.”
“I need something from it,” he growled.
“Gross,” I said. “That was more than three years ago.”
“Yuck,” Lee gagged. “What do you need from a three year old corpse?”
“None of your damn business,” Cal growled, his face scrunched up into an ugly frown as he stared around the room, still searching for me.
“He definitely doesn’t look handsome and angelic now,” Shadow gloated.
“And he certainly isn’t being very polite. My, my, Faye would not be too impressed with him now,” I added, grinning despite the presence of the deathmark. Maybe it was as amused by the scene as we were. It hadn’t moved, just floated there with its hat tipped to the side, waiting and watching.
“What body?” Shadow pressed.
“Oh, give it up, Shadow,” Lee snapped. “We all have bodies in our closets.”
“There’s another ghost here?” Cal asked, jumping up and pushing his back against the wall.
“You’re all insane,” Aurora howled and dashed for the exit.
The cowboy deathmark slammed a chair against the door and sent another hurtling towards the quivering bundle of shawls, scooping her up in it and dropping her onto the floor. In the chaos caused by flying chairs, flapping shawls and hysterical wailing, I didn’t notice Cal scuttling towards Lee until too late. He pulled out a gun and pushed it against Lee’s chest, right over where her heart would be.
“Hey, I said no anchovies,” I yelled at Cal, who of course couldn’t hear me.
“Axe, that doesn’t look like an anchovy,” Lee said, raising her hands shoulder-height. She didn’t look too concerned about the gun pressing into her chest. She’d probably be more concerned if it had been a real anchovy. Unhygienic and all.
“Lee, please take this seriously,” I lectured her.
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