The Afterlife of Lizzie Monroe

by Kelly Martin

  Shane appeared to see her apprehension. "Not like that. I know you are embarrassed, but don't be. I've seen more skin than you have showing. I meant nowadays girls wear shorts and flip flops. They actually show their ankles." He smirked.

  Glorious Land! "Are you fooling me?"

  He smiled and walked to the strange-looking chair with the rollers on the bottom. Shane spun it around and straddled it like one would sit on a horse. "You saw how Cheyenne dressed last night, right?"

  She nodded. It was hard to forget. "Surely not all young ladies dress like that nowadays."

  He tilted his head and squished up his nose.

  She got his meaning. "Oh, well. It's definitely different. Not as I imagined. Must be cooler in the summer to wear such clothes. Not nearly as hot."

  "Hot in a different way," Shane mused.

  She didn't understand.

  "What about you? You gonna walk around with skirts to your toes?"

  "If I walk around at all," she said sadly. Part of her would walk around buck naked if she could walk anywhere again. It had been so long! The shock of the dress code in the 'future' was fading and the reality crept in.

  Shane's face fell as well and he sighed. "Any progress?"

  Her eyes lit up. "Yes. Look." She beamed as she concentrated and put her right hand to her forehead like she had when the sun had hurt her eyes.

  He appeared impressed. "Very good. You're getting better. How about your legs? Can you move them?"

  "Not really. I tried to make my toes work, but I couldn't. Do you think it is permanent?" She hadn't thought of it before. In the darkness, could she have kicked and thrashed so hard to break her back?

  "Can you breathe? You know, for me?"

  Oh… she'd forgotten. It wasn't like she had to. "Why?"

  "Because it really creeps me out talking to a girl who isn't breathing."

  She supposed it would be. Concentrating, she forced her lungs to work in rhythm. Hopefully, it would become second nature to her soon.

  "Better?" she asked, her breaths coming too quickly now.

  "Much."

  It hurt worse because she couldn't run, couldn't get away. Just stuck like a rock, stuck and unable to move.

  Stuck.

  In one place.

  Stuck like she had been in the darkness.

  In her casket.

  In her death.

  ****

  The girl looked like she was going crazy. Perfect. That's just what he needed. She was breathing all funny and looked like she would throw up at any second.

  "Chill out! What's wrong?" He sat on the bed and hesitated before he settled on a place to hold her. He put one hand on her back and the other on her thigh, which she did not appreciate. She didn't say anything — she was too busy freaking out — but the look she gave him let him know he'd better back off and back off right quick.

  He was smart enough to follow her wishes. He backed up and held his hands up in surrender. "I'm not touching you, Lizzie. But I can't help you if you don't chill out. Tell me what's wrong?"

  Shane had no idea what had triggered her freak out session, but he darn well knew he didn't like it. Was she so emotional because she was practically a zombie? Heck, Cheyenne was emotional and she wasn't even dead. Would she freak out at different times of the day? If she did, she couldn't freak out too much because his mom was downstairs, probably in her room sleeping by now — if she wasn't crying. He'd caught her a few times crying, but he didn't want to think about it now. He had enough to worry about with the half-crazed girl in his room.

  Lizzie, to her credit, did appear to at least try to calm down. She closed her eyes and took a few cleansing deep breaths. "What's the word? Para-Para… I heard it once."

  "Paralyzed?"

  "Yes. Paralyzed. Am I paralyzed? Forever paralyzed?"

  What an absolutely ridiculous thing to be freaking out over, especially when she took being dead relatively well. "That's what this is about?"

  "Am I?" She raised her voice, and he just wanted her to tone it down some.

  "I don't think so," he grunted forcefully, hoping she figured it out and would take it down a notch.

  "You don't think?"

  "I mean, I've not seen you walk. I assume you'll be able to when you get stretched out again. You've been cooped up in that box for years, Lizzie. It's no wonder your muscles are stiff. It's going to take some time."

  Shane couldn't help himself. Before he knew it, he had her hand in his, squeezing it to try to get her to understand. "But you have got to calm down and not be so loud! You'll get through this. I know you will, but, sweetheart, you've got to breathe slowly if you are going to do it. And don't freak out. Cheyenne's room is at the end of the hall and my mother's home downstairs, and unless you want the government up here dissecting every cell in your body, I suggest you stop being so loud and start working on changing your current situation."

  For a few seconds, he didn't know how this would go. Lizzie was, for lack of a better word, supernatural, and who knew what she'd do to him. It could get pretty ugly if he didn't watch it. She didn't look imposing, but neither did the clown on that TV movie until he showed his razor sharp teeth.

  "I'm okay now." She relaxed a bit against the headboard and shut her eyes briefly. "I don't know why I fretted like that or why I can't control my breathing. It feels so unnatural now. It's like everything's on overload."

  "Understandable. You were… out of it… for a long time. Everything's new to you."

  "Thank you for the kind words, but I'm worried I've made a fool of myself." Her cheeks turned an endearing shade of red. It was nice to see her a color other than pale. It made her look less dead.

  "You haven't made a fool of yourself." He squeezed her hand again and hoped he could continue to keep her calm. Her little hand in his felt very small, tiny, fragile. He kept having to remind himself that she wasn't some delicate flower. She was a grown woman who had, at one time, been engaged to someone else. Lizzie was strong and needed to be treated as such.

  Plus, he needed to keep her quiet so she didn't wake anyone up. So, he'd have to put on his charming voice, his suave face, his best 'good boy' attitude. He hoped she wasn't with him too long because he wasn't sure how long he could keep it up. He had never been known for his sweetness or calmness… or goodness.

  "You may not be paralyzed, but you do definitely have some walking issues. We need to stretch your legs out so you will be able to get them moving again."

  "We?" she asked incredulously without a happy look on her face.

  One simple word was all it took for him to get it. "Yeah, we. You can't do it on your own, so you'll need help."

  It didn't take a genius to read what was going on in Lizzie's mind. "You mean you want to… uh… touch my leg?"

  She looked scared to death. Shane felt the same way. "Not just one leg. Two." Scared as he was, he couldn't help smirking a bit at her expression. "It's not bad. I promise. It's not like it'll send you straight to Hell."

  She glared.

  "Bad joke." He didn't think it was a big sin to touch a woman's ankles and help them stretch out their legs. He'd done far more to a number of women in his day, but this was different. Lizzie wasn't from his day, and he knew this would be a new and different experience for her. It would be scary and freaky and weird, but he didn't want her to freak out again. Not only did he not want her to be loud, he couldn't take seeing her that scared again. "Look, it's not bad. I can keep my hands on top of your dress if you would feel more comfortable, but the only way to get you walking is to get your muscles working."

  "Your sister? She can't help?" Lizzie said hopefully.

  Ugh, Cheyenne. She'd be as useless as a telephone pole. "I don't want her to know."

  "Why?"

  "I have my reasons." And they were good ones too, not that Lizzie needed to know them right off.

  Lizzie went from crying and being near hysterics to laughing faster than Shane could keep up. It was like she couldn't sto
p, and frankly it worried him a little.

  "Are you okay?" A stupid question, but he didn't know what else to say. She was definitely going off her rocker.

  "I'm sorry," she said through laughter-induced tears. "I'm sorry. It's not funny. Nothing about this is funny. But I can't stop myself."

  He had no idea what to do or what to say. She was worrying him. It was like any second she could raise up and bite his head off… literally. "It's okay. I guess your emotions are bound to be out of whack after all you've been through."

  "It's not that," she said as she tried to calm down. "I don't think it is anyway. It just feels good to laugh. It's been a long time since I have."

  "You were blocked up in a wall for a long time." Shane tried not to imagine how horrible it had to have been for her. The smells, the sounds, unable to move… rats and bugs gnawing at the box. Thinking she'd never get out. No hope… he knew all about no hope. He felt it almost daily. No hope in leaving the small town of Dixon where everyone knew your business… and no hope of ever really making it in music. He had big dreams, but realistic expectations. Thankfully, no one thought he'd amount to anything anyway so no one had ever put a lot of pressure on him. His Kindergarten teacher had once… then Shane bit her and took the wind out of her sails. He'd been labeled ever since.

  "Even before then," Lizzie laid her head against the headboard and rocked it side to side slowly. It was the only thing on her body that worked well so she tended to move it often. Shane pictured her as one of those girls who couldn't talk without her hands. Not being able to move must have been torture for her. "The war didn't make it easy for anyone to smile. Especially in my situation."

  Shane wasn't one to care about people's pasts. He didn't even really care about his, but something about her story interested him and he couldn't help but be intrigued. The Legend of Lizzie Monroe was as known in Dixon as Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. Everyone knew about poor Lizzie Monroe who killed herself in the barn over love. Some old geezers even taunted the young kids about seeing Lizzie's ghost if you went to the Monroe barn at night in June. Shane wasn't sure if he'd admit to actually trying it once just to see, and how he only lasted five minutes in the old barn before he ran like a baby. It hadn't been his finest moment.

  He couldn't help himself. "So, what happened… exactly? I mean, I know the legend…"

  "I'm a legend?" She looked bewildered. He guessed she wasn't as used to being infamous.

  He nodded. "Yeah. Like everyone has heard the story of Lonely Lizzie cutting her wrists because her soldier didn't return from the war." He could have probably have phrased it more delicately, but he wasn't known for his tact. And it was true, or so he figured. She'd been the one to cut her wrists after all. Might as well not be embarrassed by it.

  Lizzie's eyes dropped and her cheeks turned very pink. "Lonely Lizzie." She said nothing else.

  Shane felt the beginnings of guilt. Possibly not the best way to talk about the war and what happened back then. "Look, I shouldn't have said it like that. I'm sorry." Whoa! He hadn't expected an apology, but that's what came out of his mouth. He couldn't help it. Lizzie looked so pitiful lying there all helpless on his bed. Back in the day, she had planned on leaving this earthly home only to find she'd been here longer. If there was a God —and he still wasn't convinced there was — He had a warped sense of humor.

  "No, it's fairly accurate. I was lonely for a long time before I found out about Daniel…" she paused. Shane wished he could make everything better for her. To him, it had been an eternity ago that Lizzie lived, but to her, it was like yesterday. She had lived alone with the pain and suffering, with no one to talk to for so long. Shane couldn't imagine… didn't want to imagine. His life sucked enough.

  "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. It was stupid to bring it up."

  "No… it's alright. I haven't gotten to talk to anyone about it." Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. He had to commend her for not allowing them to fall. Most girls would have fallen apart by now… heck, if he'd been through what she had, he probably would have fallen apart himself long before now. Say what you will about Lizzie Monroe, she was strong.

  "Ever? You didn't tell people bye?"

  She shook her head. "I spoke to Mother briefly, but… when Frederick came to tell me about Daniel, my mother wasn't home. She was at the church with her ladies' sewing circle. The ladies liked to sew. Liked to gossip more than anything. Actually, I think she was there to find out if any of the new arrivals knew of my father or Daniel."

  "New arrivals?"

  "New soldiers. About once or twice a month stragglers would come into town looking for a room or food. Sometimes they went back to war, sometimes they hightailed it in the opposite direction. But the women would pretty much attack them when anyone new came into town for any information on their loved ones."

  "Why didn't they just call?" Wow, that was a stupid question… idiot. "No phones. Yeah…"

  "Phones?"

  Oh yeah. He'd forgotten that Lizzie had no idea what things were. Great. He sure didn't have time to explain everything to her. "It's like talking like we are now only with a little rectangular thing and the other person isn't in the room."

  He held up his cell and she studied it with a very confused look.

  Sigh. He flipped the phone back on the desk. "Letters. Didn't you get letters?"

  She shook her head. "Not often. The mail wasn't exactly reliable. The men didn't always have ways to get their letters mailed. I got one letter from Daniel when he was going toward Franklin. He said not to worry about him and that he would be alright." A tear slid down her cheek. Automatically, Shane's fingers grazed Lizzie's cheek and wiped the first tear away. Her eyes widened at the contact, as did his. It wasn't like he'd expected or even had any inkling about touching her. It just happened.

  He stared at her for what seemed like an eternity, not really sure what to do or how to do it. Should he say sorry? Was he sorry? It wasn't like he'd broken some sacred vow or anything. But she kept looking at him like that, and he kept feeling some sort of pull in his chest — not the normal place he felt a pull around a pretty girl.

  And truth be told, Lizzie Monroe was pretty. Beautiful even. He'd only ever seen her in old black and white photographs. The one they used for their band logo had her hair in ringlet curls and half of it pulled back from her face. She wasn't smiling, which is why they picked it. No heavy metal band worth their salt would have a pretty, ladylike, smiling girl on their logo. Her eyes had always haunted him. Striking, even in black and white.

  Even more striking in color.

  Figuring what the hay, he wiped the tear from her other cheek. She looked away then back at him. "Thank you."

  "You're welcome." His voice was raspier than he wanted. He cleared his throat and shook his head to get the cobwebs out. He couldn't not be attracted to this girl… well, he could because, hello, she was actually very hot, but it wouldn't be right. He had to get her up on her feet and gone. How? He wasn't sure, but it had to be done. She was the only witness to the church fire — Preston wouldn't talk — and he couldn't have her telling what he did. Then again, who would believe a corpse?

  Lizzie fluttered her eyes a few times. "I'm happy I can move my arms now. It was becoming frustrating."

  "I imagine it was. Especially when your nose itches."

  She laughed a little which made Shane ease up some. It was bad enough being the only man in his house anyway. Cheyenne and his mom always seemed to be 'moody' at the same time. But to have this girl now that he couldn't get away from, couldn't really leave, and didn't exactly know what to do with? It stunk. It stunk a lot.

  "It wasn't fun," she admitted and leaned her head against the headboard.

  "But you did good. You actually moved it. That's progress!"

  "You think?"

  "Absolutely. Let's not waste it."

  "What do you have in mind?" She sounded skeptical.

  "Start talking and start stretching yo
ur legs."

  Her eyes bugged out. "Stretch… like stretch. As in touch? My legs… my actual legs. Not with your hands on my skirt?"

  "That's the general idea."

  "You can't… that's not going to work."

  "Yes, it will. If your arms moved that much, then it means it is possible. We just have to help you some. Maybe I could steal a pair of Cheyenne's pants for you to wear."

  "Cheyenne wears pants?" The idea seemed to shock her.

  He found it pretty funny. "Yeah. A lot of women do nowadays. Most actually. Pants. Shorts. Short skirts."

  "My gracious." She grinned. "When I was eleven, I wanted to wear pants and my mother forbade it. Said it wasn't ladylike and I needed to get that nonsense out of my head and fast."

  "Hate to tell you, sister, but times have changed."

  "Obviously. I don't mean this to be crude or disrespectful, but in my time, if a woman dressed like your sister, she would have been, well, either a prostitute or badly shunned."

  Shane had to laugh. "Yeah, now it's pretty typical attire."

  "Are you pulling my leg?"

  "No, I'm serious. I'll get you a magazine or something so you can get used to the clothes and what not. Celebrities and reality TV."

  "What's TV?"

  His shoulders slumped. He really didn't want to have to be her teacher. "Doesn't matter. We need to focus now on your legs and making them work so we can get you out in the world." Not in the town of Dixon world, of course. That would be bad.

  She looked out the window and bit her lip. "I'm not sure I want to get out in the world. From the way things are in here, it has changed a lot since my day. It would be interesting to wear pants though."

  And she'd look good in them too. "You'll fit in in no time. I promise. I'll help you learn all about it, but first let's do some stretches."

  He didn't wait for an answer before he pulled the cover off her legs.

  "Wait!" she yelled and he shushed her.

  "Don't yell. My family will hear you."

  "That's bad?"

  "They might not understand. My mom might call the government or a mental hospital or something. If you want to stay safe, you'll keep hidden in here until we can get you out of town." It was probably very cruel to tell her those things, but it was a means to an end. He needed her to stay put for now.