by Paula Hayes
CHAPTER NINE
Fuzzy Pixels
Natalie and Anna pulled up in Dylan’s driveway to find Nina outside deadheading the roses. She waved at them and smiled, “Come in, come in I have just made a fresh batch of Macher Chop.” Natalie pinched her tummy fat as she undid her seat belt, “Nina’s fish croquettes are to die for. There is always tomorrow to start a diet.”
Nina embraced her and nodded in the direction of Dylan’s bedroom and Anna walked through the house. It was impeccably tidy and the crock-pot steamed the most delicious scent into the air. She inhaled deeply as she knocked on Dylan’s door. Although it was five pm on Sunday afternoon, Anna felt like ninety-six years had passed.
Dylan was still sleeping, his snores whistled like the gentle whinnying of a pony with allergies. Anna sat on his bed.
“Deepak? Is that you? Are you still with me brother?” his flaying hands grabbed at Anna’s scarf like a long fingered zombie.
“Get off me,” she snapped.
Deepak popped his head through the doorway, “Yes I’m still here.” He turned to Anna and said, “He had a difficult night.” He raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes gently toward the ceiling. Anna smiled back.
“I like your hair, have you cut it?” This was the second compliment in twenty-four hours, one from a dead guy and one from an alive guy. Anna ran her hand over her few remaining waves. Dylan had insisted on a very short pixie haircut to tame her mousy curls. She blushed. “Thank you, it was Dylan’s idea.”
“Yes I agree, peeps,” came a voice from under the grey mohair rug. Jacqui sat up and stretched and yawned. Yards of gingery golden locks cascaded over the mohair blanket. Anna was reminded of a painting she had recently studied in art class, The Birth of Venus. Jacqui emerged like a goddess from under the rug and stretched like a cat in slow motion. It was mesmerizing. Anna, Dylan and Deepak watched entranced. The dappled afternoon light caught honey coloured strands and made them shine like spun gold leaving Anna dizzy with envy.
“You look as cute as a button—getting rid of the frizz was a stroke of genius Dylan. You are adorable Annakins,” Jacqui enthused.
“How long have you been in my boudoir doll face?” asked Dylan.
“I was not very comfy on the couch so I slipped in here when Deepak left for work at six am. And then I just sank into your rug and went off to the land of nod. I slept like an angel.” She yawned delicately.
“Deepak, would you be a doll and leave us alone for a mo, we have some secret ladies’ business to attend to.” Dylan sat up in bed and took off his orange gloves briskly like he was dismissing the hired help. He stopped mid finger and added,
“Thanks Deeps, for last night. You’re a peach.”
“You need a good punch in the head mate,” replied Deepak.
Deepak was very glad to be relieved of his duties. He smiled warmly at Anna as he shut the door behind him.
Jacqui and Dylan sat on the bed crossed legged. They looked towards Anna as if they were waiting for the secrets of the Universe to spring from her lips.
“Well?” said Dylan. “What happened? Did Mary Ellen fly in on a broomstick with a bag full of children’s finger bones, cackling loudly? I can’t imagine what happened next.” Dylan placed his hand on his chin transfixed.
“He is hobbled, by Mary Ellen,” she replied like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Hobbled by the Black Hat,” said Dylan shocked, “did she take a shovel to his kneecaps or bolt cutters to his toes?” Dylan leaned forward for the gory details.
“No, of course not. He was apperating and disapperating like a deranged Jack in the Box, hounding Mum to find Les for him. She was eighteen, it kinda got her down.” She fiddled with the buttons on her cardigan as she gave a very attenuated summary of Natalie’s experience.
“So Mary Ellen insisted he stay put for his next visit, which was last night. I am very pleased she did, he can’t go past the door.” The thought of him popping up in her bedroom made her break into a cold sweat and a hot flush simultaneously.
“How did she do that? Maybe she really is a witch?” asked Dylan.
“Don’t be bloody stupid,” snapped Anna.
“He followed Mum for weeks, it appears he is a lost soul. We had a bit of a chat. He saw Mary Ellen’s image leering out at him and went berko. He really is very sorry about the mess.”
“Did you see him, what does he look like?” asked Jacqui breathlessly.
“You know what he looks like, you saw the photograph,” answered Anna tersely. Nosy Legs Eleven is getting on my nerves.
“Yes, yes I know what he looks like. I mean was he solid or misty or floaty?”
“He looks normal to me … almost real, like you could reach out and touch him. When he gets tired and he starts to fade then he looks like fuzzy pixels. I think it takes a lot of energy to keep up a human appearance. He touched Mum’s hand and she told me later that it felt like steam from a hot bath. Quite pleasant really.”
“Could you put your hand through him? Did you get your chest pains? Most importantly does he know Heath? Are they chums?” probed Jacqui anxiously.
“Oh yes and Elvis too,” sighed Anna.
“Really!” said Jacqui enthralled.
“NO,” snapped Anna.
“He is stuck ‘somewhere’ and he doesn’t know the ‘lingo,’” said Anna. “He said something about a box. I’m not sure,” she shrugged her shoulders.
“Does he know Siegfried Sassoon or Wilfred Owen, I am finding their war poetry a bit dreary and depressing. It’s a waste of my time. I much prefer William’s work. Do you think he could get me some personal insight into their minds as I really need to lift my Lit grade from a B to an A without lifting my effort?” prattled Dylan.
“You know you are also obsessed with Mr. Hathaway?” prodded Jacqui.
“Tis true, I am a disciple of Mr. SHAKESPEARE.”
“What part of stuck on Earth in a box didn’t you get?” shouted Anna.
Dylan pouted. He stuck his bottom lip out theatrically.
“He is actually tactless and annoying, a bit like you. Except if you and Leo were in the same class in school, he would probably make your life hell. I have a feeling he was one of the lads.”
“Uh huh,” said Dylan, “oh well, I shall miss our beloved green room. And then there is our eclectically furnished verandah—the scene of so many of our superior discussions. No more can I enter your abode whilst that narrow minded ugly digger digs in.”
“Oh,” said Anna a little too quickly, “he is not ugly”.
Dylan cocked an eyebrow, “Not ugly, then pray tell what is he?”
Anna blushed, “Average, tall you know. Just medium. And tall, he has a pimple. You know, just average.” Anna shrugged her shoulders in an overly nonchalant manner.
“I thought you would be raving on about the invasion of your spiritual squatter in your house. I thought you would have been ‘sickened’ by your invited uninvited guest. I was expecting you to be all outraged, you know, like usual. You get this piqued pulsating vein here.” Dylan motioned to her temple.
“I know about the vein, thanks Dylan.”
Dylan’s eyes narrowed as he inquired “Are you wearing that stylish cardigan I gave you instead of your usual micro fleece zip up. I detest zip ups. They are so sloppy and unattractive. Why not wear your pyjamas about town. Hmmm … Are you or are you not wearing the tiniest hint of mascara?” he toyed with her. Anna blinked innocently back.
“What do we make of this Jacs?” said Dylan. He stood up and strutted around in his striped silken pyjamas. “Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?” He sighed and fanned his face with his silken hanky like a shy geisha girl.
“I already told you he is an obnoxious narrow minded pig, how could you even think such a thing. You’ve got sex on the brain Dylan. You sicken me. He
is a wandering soul who needs my help. And to think I was going to ask you and Legs … I mean Jacqui for help. You haven’t even got the guts to come back to my house. Leo may be irritating but at least he has balls.”
“Love me or hate me, both are in my favour … If you love me, I’ll always be in your heart … if you hate me, I’ll always be in your mind,” taunted Dylan as he pranced around the room like an elastic ballerina propelled from marionette strings. He stopped and felt his crutch, “I have balls, one and … OMG I can’t find the other one … help me!” he shrieked as he squeezed a handful of stripey silk vigorously. “Alas my nut is presently anon … ahh there he is … good to have you back my dear bawcock.”
“You are beyond gross … and the whole Shakespeare scene is getting a little precious Dylan. And boring,” she added for good measure.
Dylan’s face crumpled, “I was only suggesting you looked pretty and was teasing you as to why. No fear, it was a passing fancy. Your pulsey vein is twitching again, not pretty at all.” He flung down his silky scarf in protest and patted both bawcocks.
“I don’t need your help. I am perfectly capable of doing this by myself. I just thought it would be more—” she searched for the right word.
“Fun?” offered Jacqui.
“No, more efficient,” countered Anna whilst thinking ‘fun.’” Who am I? What is happening to me?
“Come on peeps, don’t you see what we have here,” trilled Jacqui.
Anna and Dylan stared at her vacantly.
“We have a mystery to solve ladies. This poor soul needs our help to catapult him to the Other Side. We could be like Mystery Inc. We have Scooby Doo and Scrappy Doo. Anna is Thelma and I can be Daphne and Dylan, can be Dylan.” She clapped her hands together in delight.
“We are dealing with a man’s soul,” cried Anna.
“You didn’t believe in them yesterday morning, the spirit is hokum pokum you said to Miss Scott last month. The devil is man made you told your mother last night. But I do believe in something out there. I always have,” finished Jacqui gently.
Anna fell silent and sat down on the rug. “Is that what you think of me, I’m some sort of self righteous bore, the ‘fact’ Nazi?”
“No of course not Annakins,” said Jacqui soothingly. “I just want you to know that I take this very seriously and I always have.”
“You are a bit of a-know-it-all Anna,” added Dylan. Jacqui glared at Dylan, her green eyes flickered like a feral cat’s.
“Dylan and I really want to help you and we promise not to be scared and silly any more. You just tell us what you want us to do!” Anna was shocked. Normally, she waited on Jacqui’s instruction and then grumbled at the outcome.
“Yeah … I’d do anything for a Scooby snack,” Dylan said, rubbing his head on Anna’s arm like Larry did.
Anna smiled and Jacqui tittered. “I rove you Ranna—Scooby Dooby Doo,” barked Dylan. The three of them found themselves rolling around on the floor laughing as Anna replied, “Jinkies, Scoob I love you too. Remember how much we loved those cartoons.”
Jacqui sat up and wiped away the tears, “It feels lovely to laugh again. We used to do it all the time.” A subdued silence fell and Dylan quickly started to make his bed, fluffing his woolly throw rug violently. “I must have been scared out of my wits to let Deepak roll around on the floor covered in my treasured fluffy blanky.” He picked off short black hairs and long blonde hairs in disgust.
He stopped folding the blanket and turned to the girls, “I really was scared out of my mind last night. I am still feeling frightened. How about you two?”
“I was really freaked out too, when I felt those fingers poke at me and my dress started twitching, I thought I would die of fright!”
“Oh that, I forgot to tell you, he is a bit of a larrikin, he is eighteen. And he lived in a world before women’s rights. His approach to life is very dated. Apparently the world has changed,” she sighed.
“Well of course it has, he has been dead for over ninety five years … and please don’t do ‘the powers that be thing’ right now, I’m feeling quite precious at the mo,” said Dylan.
“You don’t seem very scared Anna,” said Jacqui.
“No, I am not scared but I am truly blown away, overwhelmed by the way this changes—” she paused. She couldn’t think of the words to express the tsunami of spirit washing over her. She was barely keeping her head above water.
“Changes everything you ever thought to be true,” offered Jacqui.
“Yes, I am going to have to reassess my whole approach to, well, everything and that is scary to me. Things used to be black or white. Very simple.”
“And now, Miss Grey, all you can see is velvety shades of grey. Your approach to the Universe is expanding,” Dylan added in his radio jock voice.
Jacqui bent over and touched her toes lazily.
“Does Leo have that old world charm that so many boys lack these days?" She yawned out.
“Well he does call me Miss, which is strange and he ended up referring to Mum as Mrs Grey by the end of our talk. But no, generally he is rude and thoughtless.” Anna paused, “By the end, he seemed sad … almost worn out and melancholy. He faded away to the smell of burning embers. I felt so tired afterward.” Her voice faded too.
“We must help Anna help Leo, we must Dylan,” announced Jacqui as she stood up on Dylan’s bed and pointed to the ceiling.
“What madness is this? Get off … you are making crinkles. Get off!”
Jacqui ignored him as she saluted, “Right, what is our plan of attack, Captain Anna?”
“I’m in the process of writing a list.” Anna searched frantically through her handbag.
“Of course you are. Do hope it includes a visit from a priest or a purohit for the bhut,” demanded Dylan, scowling as he pushed Jacqui off his bed and remade it.
“The WHAT?” said Jacqui.
“The bhut, that’s what we Hindus call ghosts.”
“Since when did you start calling yourself a Hindu,” mocked Jacqui.
“Since one am this morning. A nasty fright brings you closer to the light.”
Anna shook her head and laughed.
“Oh don’t you laugh at me Missy, I have to sit through Religious Education with you two and try and keep a straight face! Where was I? Mantras are very powerful,” Dylan continued on, “only problem is you have to say them continuously, like thousands of times. Mantras are like an extremely long tongue twister. You practically bore the ghost away.”
He sat crossed legged with his middle fingers pressing on his thumbs.
“Ram, Ram, Ram, Ram, Ram, Ram, Ram, Ram, Ram, Ram, Ram, Ram, Ram, Ram.”
“Who is this Ram?”
“Just the incarnation of Vishnu, the big gun you want on your team.”
“Perhaps I could read Leo one of my many helpful emails, starting with misogyny in music and concluding with the evils of the demon drink,” Anna said with a wry smile.
“I do believe Anna has cracked a self deprecating joke, Jacs! What a good idea, I know they bore me to death. Perhaps it will work in reverse?”
Anna reddened and then gained composure.
“We don’t want to send him back to where he came from just because he is popping into my dining room. Those things are no good for now. He needs to be released. Not pushed to the side again. He is stuck. Why is it that Les is supposedly lolling about in heaven but Leo is yo-yoing around? What is the difference? There seems to be lots of different ways of dying and moving on. It can happen immediately and sometimes, for whatever reason, it doesn’t happen at all. We need to get to the bottom of it.”
“So what you are saying? Even death happens in shades of grey, why Annakins, this is out first breakthrough.”
“What do you mean?”
“Leo must have had an appalling death.”
“A young underage soldier with the maturity of Dylan, it probably took him awhile to work out he was dead.”
“Where are you getting all this from?”
Jacqui had slipped out her smart phone and was surfing the Internet.
“I started googling last night, I got a cramp in my leg and it woke me right up. I found this site that is called ‘For Whom the Bells Toll and the Toll it takes on the Average Soul.’ It’s a site about why some of us get left behind. You know, appalling death or appalling guilt, a thwarted life mission, an unfulfilled passion yada yada yada. Some souls are just plain naughty and want to stay on, wreaking havoc on their enemies or indeed, family. It is all pretty standard Ghost Whisperer stuff.” She continued to scroll through the site.
“Leo did a sweet job of trashing your room. Maybe he is a naughty fellow, having the joy ride of his afterlife. The poo fling thing is hilarious in retrospect but it wasn’t at the time.” Dylan shivered at the memory.
“How is dear Kevin doing this morning?”
“Tired and freaked out and in need of a Scooby Snack,” Anna smiled.
“I really don’t think he is a delinquent. He seemed so sad and pensive. He is desperately unhappy.”
“I had better go back home, I promised Leo I would hang around the front room and talk some more with him.” Dylan watched as a self conscious pink flush crept up Anna’s neck.
“Woo, hoo, better get home for LEOOOO, wouldn’t want to upset our ghostly LUVVERR.” Dylan pranced around with his hands on his heart.
“Shut up Dylan, if you are going to be an immature loser then don’t bother helping,” said Anna.
Jacqui threw a cushion at Dylan’s head.
“Okay, okay, I’m sure the role of Cold Case Spectre Detective will be my finest so far. I think I will tone it down and wear a crisp white shirt and take some of my bangles off. I don’t think bling bling is the right for a cop. They are pinching me anyway. I can’t sneak around if I am jingling. My first job is going to be sneaking Deepak’s Aviator’s out of his car, all the American cops wear Aviators … Oh this is going to be fun after all,” he trilled.
“Well peeps, let’s get ourselves some Maccas and head over to Anna and Leo’s for a little soiree. First let me pick up my proper camera and tripod. I would so love to have a ghost in my pics collection.”
Anna stopped still. “You are not filming Leo. He is a tortured soul and not some teacher in a swoon. You are not u tubing, snapchatting, instantgramming, twittering or ‘sharing’ this on Face Book. This is private. Beth already thinks I am a fruit loop. I am not having the whole school know about this. This is a man’s soul. Honestly Jacqui!”
Jacqui stood chastened, “I thought it might help in our investigation. There are many different ways of capturing a spectre with the right light and I found this wonderful—”
“WE ARE RELEASING THIS ONE, NOT CAPTURING IT,” exclaimed Anna.
