by S. A. Hunter
When the final bell rang, she began collecting her things. She was getting picked up by Gran to go to Mrs. Beadley’s home. They were going to see what they could do about her late husband.
“Hey, Mary.”
Her notebook slid to the floor rather than into her bag. She looked up in surprise. “Kyle? Hey, what’s up?”
He knelt down and retrieved her notebook. “Just collecting the invalid. You doing okay?”
She took the notebook and carefully put it into her bag. “I’m fine. Any news on Vicky?”
Kyle’s brow furrowed at her question. She’d be surprised, too, if she were him, but she hadn’t had a dream about the cheerleader the previous night, and she was a little worried. She hated that she was worried and wouldn’t admit to it under torture, but there it was. “No change. I don’t think the docs know what to do with her.”
Cy came up to them but hung back a step. “I’m ready to go.”
“That’s great. Why don’t you go wait by the truck?”
“Come on, Kyle. Mom told you to bring me straight home. I need to take my pain medication.”
“You can wait five minutes.”
Cy rolled his eyes and left the room. He hadn’t even acknowledged her. She kept her eyes down as she got up and prepared to leave too.
“Hard to believe I’m the bad one,” Kyle said.
“What?” She didn’t know what he was talking about.
His mouth twisted, and he wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Oh you know how it is with brothers. One’s the good son, and other’s the bad. The golden boy and the screw-up. I’m the screw-up.”
“No, you’re not. You’re on the wrestling team, are pretty popular, and don’t pick fights and stuff. You’re like all-American. Don’t parents like that?”
“Yeah, but Cy’s always been the center of attention. He has that stupid smile which everyone likes. They’ll bend over backwards for him, and he doesn’t have to do a thing.”
Thinking about it, Mary couldn’t really deny it, but she thought Kyle was being too hard on himself. From what she saw, he did just as well as Cy. She looked toward the door. She didn’t really know how to end the conversation. She didn’t want to just walk away, but Gran was waiting.
“Like right now, you think I shouldn’t be making him wait for me. You think I should rush down and drive him home so he can take his precious pill while all evening Mom waits on him hand and foot, even though he can go to the kitchen and get his own stupid sodas.”
She was shaking her head and leaning away from him before he was done. Kyle was getting kind of intense, and it was giving her unhappy flashbacks. While he was possessed, he’d cornered her in the hallway and threatened her. She’d been alone, and he’d scared her pretty bad. He was bigger and stronger, and she knew he could hurt her. Trying to keep her cool, she said, “No, it’s just that Gran’s waiting for me, and I don’t want us to be late.”
“Late for what?”
“An appointment. We’re meeting a client.”
“Well then, let’s go.” He stepped back and motioned her to go. She skirted around him and tried to keep from jogging out of there. It was tough to keep from going faster when Kyle fell into step beside her.
“So what are you going to do? An exorcism or something?”
Her eyes darted around the hall to see who was listening, but the place was pretty deserted. Everyone had left with the bell. “No, there’s this widow whose dead husband is haunting her, and she wants our help with him.”
She sneaked a look at Kyle. He seemed to be mulling that over. She wasn’t sure if she should’ve told him all of that, but he was making her nervous, and she’d blabbed without thinking.
“Sorry for venting all over you.”
“What?” She was beginning to get whiplash from his sudden turns in conversation.
“I know you’re still sort of friends with Cy. I shouldn’t have said all that stuff to you.”
“No, it’s okay. Everyone needs to just open up once in a while, right?” She hoped her smile was a friendly one, but it may have had more in common with a wince.
They’d reached the school doors. She quickly scanned the parking lot for Gran. A couple of horn toots helped find her. Kyle also looked in that direction.
“Geez, I hope I didn’t keep you too long. Tell your grandma sorry for me.”
“Yeah, sure.” She took a few steps and stopped. She turned back. “Kyle, the reason people may not fall over themselves to help you is because you don’t seem to need the help. I mean you seem really strong and together. People might think that they’d offend you or something if they offered. It doesn’t mean they don’t want to or whatever.”
His shoulders relaxed, and he smiled at her. “Yeah, maybe. Thanks.”
“Kyle, come on!”
Both turned to see Cy standing beside a pickup in the senior parking lot. He looked pretty impatient. For some reason, it made her smile.
“Bye, Kyle. See you around.”
“Yeah, you too.”
She left him and made her way to Gran in the station wagon. She opened the passenger side door and stopped. Sitting in the seat was Chowder’s body. His ghost was there too, of course.
“What’s he doing here?”
“I thought he might help.”
“How?” She tossed her backpack onto the backseat and put Chowder on her lap, both physically and spiritually.
Gran shrugged and backed out of the spot. “I thought maybe he could sniff out the anchor.”
Mary was skeptical that the little dog would be useful, but she kept it to herself. She looked at the top of his head. He was ‘in’ his body. He did that if he was being held. She gave him a scratch behind the ears. He gave a happy pant but finished it with a little whine. She wasn’t sure what he could be begging for, but she figured it out after a second as she looked out the window. She rolled it down and stuck his head out. The wind blew his fur back, but that was all that moved on him. Gran couldn’t stop laughing at the sight, but she couldn’t hear his happy panting or feel his squirming glee. He was enjoying every second of the car ride. As she patted his back, she realized Chowder was very spoiled.
Mrs. Beadley’s home was at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac. The front yard was tidy with pretty flowerboxes lining the walkway. Mary followed Gran up the path. She had Chowder cradled to her chest. He panted happily against her face. He was still in his body. The whole day was turning out to be a real treat for him, but if he tried to lick her face one more time, she was going to put him back in the car and not leave a window cracked.
Mrs. Beadley was waiting for them. She waved, and Gran waved back like they were eagerly expected friends coming for a visit. Mrs. Beadley wore saucer-sized glasses with bright blue frames. Her white hair was tightly curled and her head came up to Mary's shoulders.
“Mrs. Dubont, hello!” Mrs. Beadley smiled and held the door open for them.
“Hello to you, Mrs. Beadley. How are you?”
“Fair. He’s been rather quiet. I think he knows how displeased I am and is hiding like a sullen, little boy.”
“Well, I’d like you to meet my granddaughter Mary. She’s very sensitive to ghosts.”
Mrs. Beadley adjusted her glasses to better peer at her. “Oh how nice, and who is that you’ve got there?” Mrs. Beadley reached out as if to pet Chowder.
She held him up. “This is our dog. We’re hoping he can help, too.” Mrs. Beadley’s hand stopped short of touching him. Her face froze, and she slowly drew her hand back as she realized that Chowder was a stuffed dog.
“How will he help?” Her voice cracked, and she coughed to clear it.
“We’re hoping he’ll sniff out your husband’s anchor.”
“Sniff out?”
“He’s a ghost, too,” Gran supplied.
Mrs. Beadley nodded, but it was clear she was having difficulty handling all of this. They may have sprung too much weirdness on her. “What do you need to do?” Mrs. Beadley asked.
Gran looked over at Mary and nodded her head toward the living room. Mary stepped into the room and quickly scanned it. She couldn’t feel anything, but that didn’t mean Mr. Beadley wasn’t lurking about. She set Chowder down and whispered, “Go find the ghost.” She felt Chowder leave his body, which made her hands tingle. She imagined he was sniffing around like a dog would do. She had no clue if he’d understood what she’d asked or if he was just exploring.
She looked back at Gran and shrugged her shoulders to indicate that she wasn’t picking up anything. Gran guided Mrs. Beadley into the room and helped her into a cushioned chair. She drew another up for herself and gently took the woman’s hands.
“Tell me about the last incident.”
Mrs. Beadley nodded. “Okay. What happened was, Mr. Connor came by to fix a short in the chandelier.” She raised her eyes briefly to the lights overhead. “To thank him, I fixed dinner. Meatloaf. He said it was really good.”
“Nobody fixes it better than you, Nina.” The man’s voice came from within the room, but Mary had no sense of his location. She touched Gran’s shoulder and motioned for her to keep the woman talking.
“What happened?” Gran asked.
“We’d just sat down when every light in the house started to flicker. Neil, I mean Mr. Connor, went to check the panel. He’s a very nice man.”
“That’s not what Gladys used to say. She was always saying that he didn’t do his part around the house. You’re too good for him.” Gran had picked up a few of Mr. Beadley’s words.
“He seems to think that Mr. Connor isn’t good enough for you.”
“Where would he get such an idea? Neil was his friend.”
Mary spoke up, “Gladys was always complaining about him.”
Mrs. Beadley’s mouth dropped open. “Gladys? That was Neil’s wife’s name! How did you know that?”
Gran answered, “Your husband mentioned her. I think Gladys made him think Mr. Connor isn’t good enough for you.” She shot Mary a quick look to confirm what she’d said. Mary nodded.
“Well that’s silly. Gladys, God rest her soul, was always a bit of a complainer. Neil was good to her and their kids. Marvin, you’re not being fair.”
Mr. Beadley didn’t respond. “What happened next with Mr. Connor?” Gran prompted.
“He went to the electrical panel to check the breakers. Nothing was wrong, of course. He came back, and we started to eat. No sooner had he lifted the first forkful to his mouth when his glass of tea tipped over and spilled. We didn’t see anything knock it over. It just tipped over on its own. It soaked his trousers. He mopped it up the best he could, but they weren’t fit to wear. I offered him an old pair of Marvin’s. He changed into them, and we tried to eat again. Only now the food was cold. I don’t mean it had cooled off from sitting out. It was literally frozen. Neil looked at me, and I can only imagine what he thought. And it wasn’t just the meatloaf: everything had been frozen. The mashed potatoes, the green beans, and the biscuits were all frozen. I can’t believe Marvin would do that to me. It was so embarrassing.”
“Then?” Gran asked.
“Then he took her out to dinner, and she didn’t come home until eleven o’clock!” Mary winced at Mr. Beadley’s exclamation. He had a very strident voice.
“He took me out to dinner. It was lovely. We talked for hours and laughed so hard our sides ached. I had a wonderful time.”
Mary looked over at Gran and shrugged her shoulders. She really didn’t know how to proceed with this. Didn’t cops say domestic disputes were the most difficult calls to respond to? She was beginning to understand why. They both agreed on what happened but had differing reactions.
Gran stood up and moved to the center of the room. “Marvin, my name’s Helena Dubont. Your wife has asked for my help. You can’t go on haunting her like this. You both need to move on.”
“Move on? What’s there to move on to? Nina’s my world.”
“There is a place beyond this. You’ll join your parents and friends that have gone before you. You won’t be alone.”
“Who will look after Nina? Who’ll help her?”
Gran turned to Mrs. Beadley. “He’s scared to leave you because he thinks you’ll be alone.”
Mrs. Beadley looked down at her lap. “It’s true that I don’t have any close family to rely on. We weren’t blessed with children.”
Mary felt sorry for her. She looked to Gran and had to consider the fact that Gran was all the family she had. If she lost her...Mary didn’t want to consider it. It was just too bleak.
“I would be okay, though. I’m not completely alone. Our friends have helped me. They’ve been so kind and generous.”
“And Neil. He’s falling all over himself being ‘kind and generous.’” Gran and Mary ignored Mr. Beadley's snide remark.
“He’s being a Mr. Poopy-pants right now, isn’t he?” asked Mrs. Beadley.
Mary’s eyebrows crept up, as she and Gran turned to look at her. Mrs. Beadley smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “You have the look. He’s being a Mr. Poopy-pants.” Her eyes got shiny, and she ducked her head. “I used to give him the same look.”
“Oh, Nina. I’m never going to leave you. I’m not going anywhere.”
Gran went to comfort her. Mary felt uncomfortable standing there. She wandered out of the room wondering where Chowder had gotten to. She went through the dining room and into the kitchen.
“Chowder?” she called softly, not wanting to disturb Gran and Mrs. Beadley. She heard a bark from inside the kitchen and looked around a bit. It was nice and clean. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to sense the anchor.
Another bark broke her concentration. She opened her eyes and looked around the floor. A cabinet door shook. “Is the anchor in there?” she asked. She opened the cabinet and looked inside. Pots and pans were stacked up inside. She reached inside to pull some of them out to sort through, but Chowder grabbed her sleeve and tugged.
“What is it, boy?”
Another cabinet door began to rattle. She closed the one she’d opened and reached for it, but the one she closed began to rattle again. She paused to think. Her eyes wandered to the overhead cabinets. She moved to open the one directly over the first cabinet.
“Mary, it’s time to go.”
She pulled the cabinet open and found glasses and coffee mugs.
“Your grandmother is calling you. Are you thirsty?”
She felt like she’d been caught snooping, which maybe she had been, but she was supposed to be, wasn’t she? She closed the cabinet. She gave Mrs. Beadley a guilty look, made worse by the fact that the widow’s eyes were red rimmed. “I was, but if we’re leaving, it doesn’t matter.”
Gran appeared behind Mrs. Beadley. She had Chowder under her arm. “There you are. Let’s go.” Mary nodded and slipped by Mrs. Beadley. Gran gave the widow a hug and said she’d call her in two days but that Mrs. Beadley shouldn’t hesitate to call her if she wanted to.
Mary didn’t know what to say during the car ride home. She was totally out of her depth. Being haunted by a spouse, someone who’d spent decades with you, had to be conflicting. Having that someone there but not there had to be a hard thing to handle. But what about not having them there at all? She glanced over at Gran and wondered how she was feeling about all of this. Grandpa had passed away when Mary’s mother was eight. He’d had a heart attack. There were pictures of him throughout the house, along with pictures of Mary’s parents. She'd been four when her parents were killed. As awful as that had been, it was sort of abstract to her. She only had fuzzy memories of them. She knew stuff about them, but she didn’t remember them. She didn’t really know what it felt like to lose someone. Had the visit brought up those feelings for Gran? Was she missing them? Did Gran wish her loved ones haunted her? She turned to ask her but was cut o
ff by Gran’s excited announcement.
“Oh, look. I think I have a new client.”
Mary swallowed her question. Maybe she really didn't want to know.
Chapter 5
Volunteering to Help
Mary peered out the windshield to where Gran pointed. An old man stood beside a dark sedan parked off their driveway. He was dressed in slacks and a dress shirt with the cuffs rolled up. He perked up as Gran pulled in.
As they got out of the car, the man walked up. He seemed a little nervous and embarrassed to be there. It was a common thing with new clients, especially the ones with ghost problems.
“Sorry to bother you ladies, but are you Mrs. Dubont?”
Gran shut her door and reached out her hand. “Yes, I’m afraid these aren’t my usual office hours. I’ll be happy to make an appointment for you.”
The man shook her hand lightly as if unused to shaking women’s hands. “I understand, but I wanted to stop by because Nina Beadley told me about you.”
“Mrs. Beadley?”
He nodded. “My name’s Neil Connor, and I was hoping you could help me. I’ve got the same problem as Nina.”
Gran shared a quick look with Mary. “The same problem?”
Mr. Connor stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at his shoes. “Yeah, and I think it’s about time I got some help with it.”
“Mr. Connor, just so there’s no confusion, what exactly is it that you’d like me to help you with?”
Mr. Connor pursed his lips and nodded his head. “Fair enough, I'll have to come out and say it sooner or later. My problem is that I’m a widower, and my wife’s still with me.”
“Gladys?” Mary blurted out before she could stop herself.
Mr. Connor looked at her in surprise. “Yeah, that’s my late wife’s name. How’d you know? Are you psychic, too?”
