by Morgana Best
“So my mother’s possessed this man?”
Ernie nodded. “She sure has!”
I was aghast. “What? Forever?”
Ernie held both hands in front of him. “No, no, no. Her spirit will leave him at some point and then go back into her own body, and she’ll be fine—that is, unless she’s been buried. That, um, wouldn’t be good, if you get my meaning.”
Basil arrived, his car spraying gravel wildly when he braked. He jumped out of the car and ran over to me. “Laurel, what happened?”
“You don’t have time for lengthy explanations, Laurel,” Ernie advised me. “If the paramedics take your mother away, she’ll be dead.”
Basil scratched his head. “She’s not already dead?” He bent over and peered at my mother.
I grabbed his arm. “Basil! Mum and this man were struck by lightning at the same time and Ernie tells me that mum’s spirit has gone into this man and that’s keeping him alive.” I stopped speaking to draw a breath.
“So your mother is dead?” Basil asked.
“Yes, um, no. Her spirit will eventually go back into her body and she’ll be fine—well, back to what’s normal for her, that is—but not, of course, if she’s already been buried. We have to hide her body until we can get her spirit back out of that man.”
“Good explanation.” Ernie nodded his approval. “I couldn’t have explained it better myself. Look, I hear the sirens. Don’t stand about! Hide your mother’s body. If the paramedics see her, they’ll take her away to the morgue.”
I sized up the distance to Mum’s front door. “Hurry, Basil, put her in your car.”
I thought Basil would ask questions, but he picked my mother up and struggled to his car with her. I hurried after him, holding her feet, although I don’t think I was much help. We threw her in the back seat unceremoniously and slammed the door just as the ambulance arrived.
A woman paramedic jumped out of the ambulance. “Where are the victims?”
I pointed to the man’s car. “He’s there.”
“Weren’t there two victims?”
“No, just the one.”
A man paramedic joined her. “Didn’t you all in that your mother was dead?”
I shook my head. “Oh no, I said dead to me. I wanted to give the man mouth to mouth, but my mother said I’d catch germs. We had a terrible argument. My mother’s a very difficult person.”
The paramedics exchanged glances before hurrying over to the man.
“That’s Dylan Jackson!” Basil said with surprise. “He used to live around here.”
“I’ve heard all about him, although I’d never met him,” I said.
While the paramedics bent over Dylan, I drew Basil away. “Take your car and park it at the funeral home. Can you take care of matters there and I’ll be along soon?”
Basil nodded and hurried to his car. I breathed a huge sigh of relief and then walked over to watch the paramedics. I tried to recall my words. I was fairly certain I had said, “My mother is dead.”
I hoped I had talked my way out of it. I watched at a distance until one of the paramedics approached me. “He’s refusing to come with us,” she told me. “He says he wants to be in his own house.”
I wasn’t too sure just how possessed the man was. “He lives in Sydney,” I said tentatively.
She looked surprised. “He says he lives here.”
“Oh yes, he’s boarding here. That must be what he meant,” I said, smiling and nodding as I spoke. I had used the most reassuring tone I could muster. I certainly didn’t want them to take Dylan Jackson away and question him too closely in case my mother spoke through him.
“Please keep an eye on him and call a doctor if anything seems amiss,” she said.
The ambulance was barely out the front gate when Basil sprinted around the corner. “Where’s mum?” I whispered.
“She’s still in the car.”
“You didn’t put her on ice?” I asked him.
He shrugged. “I didn’t know what to do with her.”
“I’ll have to ask Ernie.”
Ernie at once solidified in front of us. “Yes, you will need to keep her frozen in the morgue at the funeral home until her spirit goes back into her. Her body is dead for all intents and purposes, so you have to keep it safe until her spirit returns to her. Am I making sense?”
“No,” Basil and I said in unison.
Ernie muttered some rude words and then added, “It’s quite easy to understand. If your mother’s body dies before she repossesses it, then she’ll be really dead. Is that clear?”
I nodded. “Perfectly clear. But what are we going to do with him? He hasn’t actually turned into Mum, has he?”
“I certainly hope not,” Ernie said.
I walked over to Dylan Jackson. His eyes were darting wildly from side to side. “Are you all right? I really think you should have gone to hospital to get checked out,” I said to him.
“Nonsense, my dear girl. I need to go to my room.”
Basil hurried to my side. “Hi, Dylan. Long time no see.” He shook the man’s hand. “Would you feel better staying in a hotel closer to medical help? After all, you were just struck by lightning.” Without waiting for a response, he fetched Dylan’s suitcases out of the boot.
Dylan shook his head and stomped his foot. “No, I have booked in and you must not break the promise to me. ‘Let your yea be yea; and your nay, nay; lest ye fall into condemnation.’ James chapter five, verse twelve.” He clutched his stomach again.
“Are you all right?” I asked him.
“Stop repeating yourself.” He buttoned up his shirt in double quick time. “The good Lord will look after me. Please show me to my accommodations.”
Basil appeared by my side. “Can I have a word with you?” He guided me over to the bougainvilleas, and whispered, “I don’t like that man staying here. He’s a notorious womaniser. He has the most dreadful reputation. He’ll probably have all his friends around for a drunken party.”
“I doubt he’ll be like that any more,” I told him, “not with Mum possessing him.” I fought the urge to laugh hysterically.
Basil nodded. “Just be careful. I’m sure Ernie’s exaggerating, and your mother won’t have any effect on him.”
Dylan followed me into the house. He pointed to the huge, gilt-framed painting with the embroidered words, The wages of sin is death. “What a beautiful house. How tasteful! How edifying!”
“Um, thanks,” I said.
Basil nodded to him. “I’ll show you to your room.”
I sat down on the sofa and put my head in my hands. It was all so surreal.
“But I didn’t even know a spirit could possess anyone until that punk rocker possessed Mum,” I said to Ernie. “Don’t tell me this is another case of possession! How could it happen twice?”
Ernie nodded slowly and then said, “Repossession.”
I looked up to see Basil coming down the steps two at a time. “Laurel, you were right. Something’s wrong with Dylan. He’s suddenly found religion. He asked me to find him a King James Version Bible. He said it was the only one God wrote.”
Ernie and I exchanged glances.
I fought a wave of hysteria. “But what are we going to do?” I wailed. “Mum possessed this guy. This means we have to hide Mum’s body until her spirit goes back into it.”
I was about to say more, but Ernie interrupted me. “As soon as the man’s spirit recovers from the shock of dying, his own spirit will return to him. He’ll be okay, and your mother’s spirit will return to her body. All’s well that ends well.”
“But how long will that take?” I asked him. “A day, a week, a month? A year?”
Ernie shrugged. “No idea. How long’s a piece of string? It will take as long as it will take, and that’s all I know.” He pouted. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”
“We’ll possibly have to hide Mum for a long time,” I lamented. “What will Ian do?”
Basil sat next to me a
nd patted my shoulder. “Don’t worry, Laurel. We’ll tell Ian that your mother has gone on a religious retreat to, um, maybe the Simpson Desert. He won’t follow her there.”
That made me feel a little better. “That’s a good idea. The church people will wonder why she didn’t say goodbye, but we can say she decided suddenly.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I think it will all be okay. We can do this. Oh, I’ll have to give Janet time off. That means I won’t be able to hold any funerals until Mum’s back in her body.”
“But you can’t do that,” Basil protested. “You still need to run the business.”
I thought for a moment. “I’ll worry about that later. For now, there are no funerals booked. Okay, so the plan is to keep Mum on ice, and manage Dylan. Hopefully, he’s not too possessed.”
Basil agreed. “Ernie, is there anything we can do to get Thelma’s spirit back into her own body sooner?”
Ernie was silent for a moment before speaking. “You would need to make Dylan happy and relaxed. You know, play the sort of music he likes, feed him well, that sort of thing. Once his spirit is happy and rested, your mother’s spirit will leave him.”
Basil stood up. “We had better get your mother inside the funeral home now. It’s a good thing Ian is the only person who ever visits her. Nobody will ever notice she’s missing.”
We were about to leave when the landline rang. I walked back to answer it.
“Mrs Bay?” said the disembodied voice.
“No, this is her daughter, Laurel. Can I take a message?”
“This is Detective Roy Prescott. I need to speak with Mrs Bay.”
“She’s not here,” I said. “Is something wrong?”
The line crackled, and then the detective said, “There’s been a murder at the Birds of Pray Church Community Garden, and your mother will be able to help us with our enquiries. We need to speak with her as soon as possible.”
“I’ll leave her a message. Detective Prescott, it’s not safe to speak on a landline in a thunderstorm.” With that, I hung up.
“What was that about?” Basil asked.
“We have to hide Mum before the police find her! I’ll tell you about it on the way.” I sprinted out through the door, followed by Basil, and Ernie who floated behind us.
Chapter 3
Basil and I struggled to get Mum into the funeral home. As soon as we were inside the front door, I locked it and said to Basil, “Leave her there and get the trolley. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that before.”
I ran to the preparation room to fetch the trolley, and Basil and I manoeuvred Mum onto it. I threw a sheet over her so I didn’t have to see her.
“She’s not really dead you know, Laurel,” Ernie said from behind me.
I let out a shriek and swung around. “You scared me!”
Ernie looked quite put out. “I’m a ghost. That’s what we do.”
I shot him a glare and hurried behind Basil as he pushed the trolley down to the preparation room. I opened the door and at once averted my eyes, but Basil was unable to get Mum onto the slab by himself, so I had to help him.
“I already told you she’s not really dead,” Ernie said once more.
I swung to face him. “Well, she looks dead, and it’s creeping me out. I’ll have to get her out of that guy’s body as soon as I can.”
“You’ll have to be extra nice to him and keep him happy, do everything he wants,” Ernie said.
“Since Mum has possessed him, I wonder what sort of things he will like to do?” I wondered aloud. “Do you think Mum will emerge from him?”
Ernie frowned. “I don’t know what you mean.”
I took a deep breath. “When Jezza-Belle possessed Mum, sometimes Jezza-Belle would speak, but sometimes Mum could speak. Will it be like that with him? Will Mum come to the fore and speak to people through Dylan? That would be really bad.” I trembled.
Ernie shrugged. “I don’t know. Only time will tell.” With that, he vanished.
“You’re no help!” I called out to thin air. I turned to Basil. “What do we do now?”
“We’ll have to make sure Janet doesn’t come to the funeral home and find your mother.”
I thought for a moment. “We don’t have any funerals booked, so she has no reason to come.”
Basil nodded slowly. “Hopefully. Then there’s the other matter. What do we do about the police?”
“The police?” I echoed, and then it hit me. “Oh yes! The police will need to speak to Mum, so we will have to have a good excuse as to where she is. Oh, and her car’s here, so we’ll have to hide her car or say she took public transport somewhere.”
Basil leant on the stainless steel table in the middle of the room. “I think it’s best to leave her car in the garage because if we hide it and they find it, it wouldn’t look good. No, I think we’ll have to say she has gone somewhere. But where?”
“We’ll have to tell Ian the big lie too,” I pointed out. “And it would have to be something to do with the church, because Mum never does anything if it’s not related to the church. Maybe we should say she’s gone to rehab?”
Basil looked at me as though I had taken leave of my senses. “But your mother doesn’t drink. She told me she signed the Temperance Pledge at the age of eight, and she’s never let a sip of the demon alcohol pass her lips since.”
I thought for a moment. “What do people go to rehab for apart from alcohol and drugs and . . . ?” My voice trailed away.
“Sex addiction?” Basil offered.
I clutched my stomach and laughed so hard I could scarcely breathe. “Nobody will believe that. I know! She always watched The Bold and the Beautiful. She never missed an episode.”
“But nobody would go to rehab for watching too much TV,” Basil protested.
I shook my finger at him. “Hello? You know my mother! She would. Ian told her she shouldn’t watch it so much. He said the people dressed inappropriately and cavorted out of wedlock.”
“Cavorted?” Basil raised an eyebrow.
“His words, not mine.”
“But it doesn’t sound logical.”
I smiled. “Then it’s perfect. My mother isn’t logical. Everyone will believe that, even Ian.”
Basil walked over and put his arm around my shoulders. “That’s one problem solved, but as the police suspect your mother, they will do their best to track her down, so you’ll have to keep to your story. You’ll have to say she took off and you have no idea where she went. I mean, everyone in town knows the two of you aren’t particularly close, so I’m sure the police will believe that she didn’t take you into their confidence.”
We made our way out of the funeral home, and I locked the door behind me. The rain had stopped, and the air was clear with the freshness that only comes after a storm.
“We’ll just have to play it by ear, I suppose,” I said. “It doesn’t matter if Ian doesn’t believe us—it only matters whether the police believe us. And we have to make sure Dylan Jackson doesn’t suddenly turn into Mum. Remember all the trouble we had with Jezza-Belle?”
Basil groaned. We had almost reached the house, and a crack of thunder made me jump.
“It’s going away now,” Basil said. “We only got a small amount of rain in that storm.”
“The drought is the least of my worries at the moment. Oh, just a minute! I’ll meet you in the house.” I ran back to my apartment and fetched a bottle of white wine. Mum, of course, never had any wine in her house.
Basil was waiting for me on the front porch. I showed him the wine. “We’re going to need this.” I shot him a look and opened mum’s front door.
To my surprise, Dylan Jackson was awake. He was wearing mum’s sensible tartan bathrobe and sitting in her favourite chair, a recliner rocker. This couldn’t be good. That meant he had gone into her bedroom. I walked over to him. “Mum?” I said tentatively. “Mum, are you in there?”
“Laurel, have you completely lost your senses?” he said.
“Do I look like your mother? Well, I never!” He pursed his lips and folded his arms primly on his lap.
“Laurel had quite a shock seeing you struck by lightning,” Basil said.
Dylan nodded. “Yes. And wasn’t there a woman with me? What happened to her?”
“There was no woman with you,” I lied. “Unless you are thinking of me.”
Dylan frowned hard. “I’m finding it difficult to remember. It was a most unpleasant experience.”
It was only then I realised he was reading mum’s Bible. He must have seen me looking because he said, “Is there a church meeting tonight? Maybe a prayer meeting? I’d like to pray for those who are not as good and holy as I am.”
Despite the fact he spoke in a male voice, his tone was entirely like mum’s—sanctimonious.
“I’ll check on that for you,” I said. “Basil, could you help me in the kitchen for a moment?”
As we walked away, Dylan called after us, “Please don’t pour any of that detestable, unrighteous liquid for me. It would be better if you smashed that bottle.”
“Jesus’s first miracle was turning water into wine,” I called over my shoulder. It wasn’t the first time I’d used that on Mum. As soon as we reached the kitchen, I grabbed Basil’s arm and pulled him around the door. “I don’t think Mum is going to come out and be herself entirely,” I said. “It doesn’t seem to be the same as the last possession.”
Basil readily agreed. “You think that’s a good thing or a bad thing?”
I thought about it for a minute. “Normally, logically, it should be a good thing, but as mum’s involved it has to be a bad thing.”
Basil patted my shoulder in a reassuring manner. “It’s good that he’s not speaking in her voice, and it’s good that he doesn’t remember anything. He doesn’t know your mother is possessing him.”
Ernie materialised slowly. “I didn’t want to frighten you again,” he said in a tone which showed he was not at all sincere.
“Thanks,” I said dryly.
“I’ve never seen it before for myself as I told you, but that fits in with what I’ve heard,” he said. “You know, it’s a lot more common than you think.”
