Five Minutes After Midnight

by A. J. Gallant

  “Is that me? That can’t be me?” Emma looked at one hand and then the other, and she saw the coffee table through them. “I, I, I can’t be dead! I’m dead? Was I murdered?” Fred’s face flashed, but two seconds later she was having a difficult time remembering it. The guy in the park? But why would he do such a thing? This is not real.

  Emma walked around the body, and it was definitely her. Suddenly she was frightened that it wasn’t a dream. Trying to sit on the sofa she ended up in the back of it instead. Emma saw Anita float down from the ceiling.

  “Oh, no, I am so sorry,” said Anita.

  “Are, are, are you a ghost?”

  Anita wasn’t sure what to say. “Yes, and unfortunately, so are you.”

  “So, I’m really dead?”

  “Yes.”

  Emma started sobbing uncontrollably. “Who’s gonna take care of my Mom? I’m the only one that helps her.”

  Anita felt sorry for her, but there was no going back now. Her human body was unrepairable, and her brain would have experienced death as well. “I’m newly deceased myself. I work with a detective, and we’re going to try our best to help you. Maybe Olivia can help your mother?”

  “Why can’t I sit down? I need to sit down.”

  “Ghosts don’t have physical bodies. I know you have a hard time to think, it will get better. I know how stupid that sounds since you’re dead. It’s going to take some time to get used to being this way. I know how it sounds. I still try to adjust my glasses even though I don’t have any.”

  Anita notified Olivia of the body, and the landlord let her in the apartment. Photos were taken, and the place was dusted for fingerprints. Emma watched some of the goings-on, but it was just so surreal. And all these strangers were rummaging around in her apartment.

  chapter eleven

  AUNT STELLA WATCHED AS FATHER CARROLL blessed her new crucifix; it was Spanish from the second half of the 12th century, said to have been previously blessed by Pope John Paul II though she wasn’t sure she believed it. The more it was blessed, the more powerful it became in her mind. And for a dark spirit, it was like looking into the blazing hot sun, seeing God’s face was not something they could typically overcome. And who didn’t want the Big Guy on their side?

  Christ did not show agony and suffering on this cross. Instead, he was demonstrating his victory over death, and Stella liked that. The cross wasn’t for her it was for Olivia. Now that she was open to all this stuff Olivia needed to protect herself from dark spirits, but it would take time for her to understand the dangers and the rewards of dealing with ghosts. And just knowing there was an afterlife was the ultimate reward.

  Ghosts could range from disrupting one’s sleep to being physically dangerous, grabbing the steering wheel or tripping a person that was walking down a flight of steps. Stella insisted on liberal amounts of holy water which made the priest smile, but he was accustomed to her ways. A bit of a personality disorder is how the priest thought of her, but she was definitely one of God’s children, and never went anywhere without her rosary beads.

  Stella thanked the priest and left with her cross. She would make her way to Olivia’s new apartment and let herself in as she had a key, and then she would hang the cross. Stella had scheduled no readings for the week and was taking a bit of a vacation, not going anywhere just taking in a few sights around the city. But some customers were insistent, and she just might end up doing one or two. Her last reading informed a widow where her deceased husband had stashed over a hundred thousand dollars inside a bedroom wall. A happy ending from the other side, enabling the widow to pay off her house instead of losing it though it did take almost all of the money.

  As Aunt Stella entered Olivia’s apartment, there was a feeling of some sort of presence, and it definitely wasn’t a white lighter. It felt heavy, making it just a little harder to breathe. She took stock of her surrounds to see if she could tell exactly where it was coming from. “You sons-of-bitches I know you're in here! Show yourselves!” Stella took the cross out of the bag and held it in front of herself as she moved forward. There was a thump from inside the detective’s bedroom.

  As she peeked inside Stella noticed that the room was unusually dark, but as soon as she entered with the cross the light was then permitted to enter through the windows, and she saw a faint shadow sprinkling something over Olivia’s purple comforter. As soon as it saw the holy relic, it was gone. When the medium placed the cross on the bed the ingredients, whatever they were, turned white and immediately disappeared.

  It seemed that the word was out that Olivia was going to be trouble.

  Stella took the cross and removed the painting of a Florida beach scene hung the cross instead; she would call Olivia and tell her to leave it there. It was satisfying that Olivia no longer thought of her as the crazy one in the family as she had seen too much now. In a way, she was sorry that Olivia was a bit too much like herself. However, it was just one of those things that were destined to be.

  Stella boiled some water and made a cup of green tea, tried to turn on the big screen but instead, the music came in blaring, and a good thing that she had set the beverage on the coffee table, or the white sofa wouldn’t have looked so white. It took several attempts to turn the damn thing off.

  A spirit appeared, first in the form of an orb and then as a young woman. She was dressed like a nun. “I’m St Teresa of Avila.”

  Aunt Stella had been reading about her on the internet last night. Had prayed to her before going to bed, but it couldn’t really be Saint Teresa of Jesus? She remembered that she had died in 1582. A Spanish mystic and a Carmelite nun. Was it a trick from the dark side? But just in case she got down on her knees.

  “Please rise.” And although she spoke in Spanish she heard the words in English, and it looked strange because her lips didn’t match her words.

  Stella wasn’t about to move from her current position. “Saint Teresa please bless me and forgive me my sins.”

  “I am not God, and it is not for me to forgive sins. Olivia is pregnant, and when the time comes, you are to help guide the child.”

  “Olivia is pregnant? She hasn’t said a word to me about it.” She was tempted to say are you sure but didn’t.

  “She is unaware as the soul is just formed. She will be a great soldier of God, a light that no darkness will be able to vanquish. You must help to protect the child until she comes into her own.”

  Saint Teresa was gone as quickly as she had appeared, leaving Stella overwhelmed. She stood with some difficulty, still visibly shaking as she let herself fall on the sofa. She had tears running down her cheeks. If heaven was sending soldiers what degree of darkness was the world going to face.

  Stella went to the washroom to splash cold water on her face and returned with a small pair of scissors and began cutting fibers off the white carpet, which she now considered holy ground. The expensive carpet was going to be a shock to Olivia, but it was something that had to be done. She had barely finished when she heard the door commence to open.

  Detective Olivia Brown entered her apartment to see Aunt Stella destroying her carpet. “What the hell are you doing?”

  chapter twelve

  TWO DAYS LATER OUTSIDE THE APARTMENT where Emma had been murdered, Anita was talking to the newly departed, trying hard to convince her to not enter the light where her grandmother Pearl was waiting with her outstretched hand. But heaven’s gate was a portal that was hard to resist, and Emma could almost feel God’s embrace from beyond, and it was even making Anita want to go back. Most people never left God’s bliss, but Anita had permission to come back to Earth and help, an unusual ally that the world needed. Olivia, Anita and Aunt Stella were like a triangular shield to protect the innocent.

  The Detective pulled up to the curb in her Tesla Model S and got out; she could now see Anita as solid as the living. She had learned from experience that it could be dangerous when a spirit appeared so damn stable. “Anita, is Emma here?”

  “Yes,
she’s standing right there.” Anita pointed.

  “Can she hear me? Why am I able to see you so well but I am unable to see her?”

  Anita nodded. “Remember that I too am newly deceased. Whatever rules govern heaven and Earth I am not privy to them. But yes, she can hear you.”

  Olivia looked where she assumed the ghost was standing. “Emma, we need you to stay here if even for just a few days. You now have a link to your killer, and without you, we may never catch him. Who knows how many people you could help us save?”

  Emma shook her head. “I don’t want to sound selfish, but you didn’t save me.”

  Anita nodded again. “She says you didn’t save her. Emma, we tried, but we just couldn’t get to you in time. The dark side appears to be against us for just about every step we take.”

  Emma’s grandmother Pearl beckoned for her to take her hand and join her in the light, and she turned and took two steps towards it.

  “Olivia, I think she’s going. Emma, please, just give us a few minutes.” Heaven’s pull was just about the strongest thing there was.

  “Emma,” said the Detective, “just come with me and give Anita a description of him to one of our artists. That’ll go a long way to helping us catch him.”

  Emma stopped and tried to scratch her head, remembering that she was spirit now. She tried her best to conjure his face but for whatever reason, she couldn’t. Emma could almost get there, but then it would fade. “I can’t get his face. I know he had terrible breath, I think.”

  Anita nodded. “If you stay with us for a few days it should come back to you. It takes a while to adjust.”

  A tall, dark skinny spirit appeared and pushed Emma into the light, and that was it she was gone. Melvin laughed and then vanished.

  “What the hell just happened?” asked Olivia. “What was that?”

  Anita shook her head and she was now becoming transparent. “I was told that there might be a lot more interference from the evil ones this time, apparently they don’t like that we are fighting evil from heaven. They want the scale to weigh heavily on their side.”

  “Now what are we gonna do?” This spirit thing is so screwed up. There are more unanswered questions than stars in the night sky. Olivia knew she wasn’t meant to get all the pieces together, but it would at least be good to have some. “Can you talk to her in heaven and get her to come back? The conversations I’m having these days.”

  Two women had halted down the sidewalk to watch the goings-on as it appeared that the Detective was talking to herself. Olivia was attempting to ignore them, but it wasn’t easy. This has to be how Aunt Stella feels at times.

  “I can try, but I can’t promise anything.”

  chapter thirteen

  FRED WAS IN HIS BASEMENT working on a model rocket; it was a hobby that he had started when he was a kid and had never got out of it. He had some models that he never flew, one was the Saturn V that had taken men to the moon, and the Mercury-Redstone. This new rocket’s nose cone was just about as pointy as they came and would cut through the air nicely, and when he had launched a similar one with a C engine it was just gone as if it had never existed. He had gotten a kick out of that.

  With the D engine, he knew his odds of retrieving it were slim, so he was going to launch this one at night. That way he would at least have the pleasure of seeing the rocket streak off. It was satisfying to see the fire light up the night sky. Fred occasionally envisioned killing someone with one, but he knew it just wouldn’t work. Just about impossible to aim accurately.

  Imagine hitting someone in the eye with that and it going right into their brain? Man, that would be cool.

  “It would, but that would be like shooting the wings off a fly. I used to pull wings off of flies when I was a kid.”

  I remember.

  One of the problems with launching his rockets in daylight was that it always drew spectators, especially kids, and he hated children. They were aggravating on so many levels, a little like robots that hadn’t been programmed correctly. And few had manners these days.

  Fred went outside and sat on his steps, placing the model in the fresh air so that it would dry quicker. It had a white body with red fins and nose cone. He looked at the puffy white clouds in the blue sky.

  A young couple was walking by hand-in-hand, in their early twenties and any kids that they would produce would be cuties indeed. Aaron stopped briefly and stared at Fred, shocked by his appearance. “Oh, my God that guy is ugly. He’s so ugly he’s fugly.”

  “Shut up asshole!” said Carla. “He’ll hear you. Don’t be so shallow.”

  Fred went to his fence and leaned on it as he watched then continue down the sidewalk and he had heard every damn word. “That fucker is dead.”

  Why don’t you follow them and see where they go?

  Fred’s face showed that he was both hurt by the nasty words and furious. If looks could do harm, the man would be riddled with bullets. He took his rocket and stomped it to pieces. He had never seen them in the neighborhood before which meant they might just be visiting someone. That Fred might never see them again aggravated him and would keep him from getting a good night’s sleep.

  Fred tried to follow the couple as far back as possible without losing them, but it wasn’t easy as they appeared to be bird watchers. He followed them for a time on 188 Street and finally saw them go into a house on 65th Avenue. Fred hung around for almost an hour from a distance, thinking that it was usually quite a while in between killings, but he had already zeroed in on the next one with this asshole as his woman had called him.

  How are you going to kill him without leaving her as a witness? She defended him.

  “I know, I know. I’ll just take my time and wait for the right opportunity.”

  What if it doesn’t come?

  “Don’t I always get it done?”

  I guess. Arnold was pretty much the only friend that Fred ever had, but now he was just an imaginary voice in his head.

  “Then shut it.”

  Fred turned and walked away with both hands in his pocket.

  chapter fourteen

  OLIVIA AND AUNT STELLA WERE DINING at The Italian restaurant Scarpetta on West 14th Street. Stella had the spaghetti and Olivia had finished the Sirloin of Beef, and both were impressed with the food and service. They were hard at work on the dessert, Valrhona Chocolate Cake, chocolate, and butterscotch gelato.

  Stella gazed at Olivia and smiled. “Olivia, I know it’s none of my business but is there any chance that you might be pregnant?” The medium had been told that she was with child but wanted to see how she would react.

  Olivia scrunched her face. “I hope not, but why did you bring something like that up?”

  “Well, I was told that you were.”

  “By a ghost?” Now, this spirit thing is going too far. If I am, it would be like what? Two days? I would really like to see how this spirit thing works.

  “By a spirit, yes.”

  “If I am I want you to punch that spirit in the face.”

  “Oh, my God don’t say that. It was a Saint that told me, you better pray to God to forgive you for that one. Promise me, Olivia!”

  She was getting a little too excited for Olivia’s liking. “Aunt Stella, please keep your voice down people are looking.”

  “I’m sorry Olivia, but sometimes you go too far. And you better not even think of aborting the baby, or I’ll never speak to you again.”

  Olivia was getting annoyed.“That would be my business, but I could never do that. You can’t really make me believe that I’m pregnant.”

  Stella took another bite of the cheesecake and savored it. “Do you want to know if the baby’s a girl or boy? I know.”

  The Detective almost asked her how she could know that, but of course, she knew the answer. “Oh, do tell.”

  “It’s gonna be a girl, and you are going to have to let me babysit. Right?” Stella didn’t think she should tell her how special the child would be, at least no
t yet.

  “I guess so. What am I saying?” Olivia could tell that Aunt Stella was excited by the news. It was too soon to know for sure, but she was starting to have a gut feeling that Aunt Stella was right. It might be best to not even tell the father about it, God, she couldn’t do that. If he asked her to marry him, a frying pan to the head would be her response.

  “You should have seen your face when you caught me destroying your carpet, but I have fibers where an actual saint stood.”

  You should have as many brain cells. The Detective just shook her head because she was not amused. “I’m glad you think it’s funny, now I have to replace the whole damn thing. If you could afford it, I’d make you pay for it.”

  “Olivia, you can afford it.”

  “That’s not the point.” Were they not in public Olivia would have cursed. At times Stella was both a plus and a minus.

  Aunt Stella was attempting to decide whether to tell her how special the baby was going to be; she didn’t want to frighten her, but she would need to be told sooner or later. “I don’t know if I this is my place to say Olivia, but I may as well come out with it. The dark side is coming after you. And you need to be really careful because of the baby.”

  Olivia almost choked on her cake. “What do you mean the dark side is coming after me? Why?”

  Stella gazed into Olivia’s eyes before answering. “They don’t like that you’re interfering with their dirty work. Now that you have had a saint in your apartment they shouldn’t be able to go anywhere near it, I think, but out here is a different matter. I would be especially careful walking down steps.”

  What the fuck is she talking about now? Aunt Stella and her damn ghosts. Olivia sighed. “Please tell me that you are joking about the baby.”