by K P Stafford
* * *
Carter Stewart, who was playing the second leading role, had grated on her nerves most of the day. He was one who was sure he’d make it to Broadway. He’d had several auditions and somehow he thought it gave him authority and made him a slice above the rest. He could be a pain to work with. Today was no exception. Clara Stiles, the leading lady was off her game and kept messing up her lines. Carter’s patience wore thin because he knew everyone’s lines in the whole performance. His arrogance never helped matters, but since he was a good actor, most people overlooked his eccentric nature.
Jess let out a long sigh, sometimes she loved the quietness in the theater at the end of a long day. She enjoyed the alone time after everyone had gone home. Well, almost everyone. The resident ghost, Farley, was always around, somewhere. He loved to play pranks on Jess when she was there alone. After growing up around him, she’d gotten used to it. As she neared the end of the hall, she half expected him to come flying out of a wall. Secretly, she hoped he was as tired as everyone else and would leave her be tonight.
She checked the doors and lights, making sure everything was secure and in place for tomorrow’s whirlwind of pre-production chaos. She looked up to see Farley floating beside her. He took the recognition as his cue to jabber on about how Clara Stiles kept missing her lines and how the new girl, Rosie Peabody, was more suited to the part. Jess drew in a breath and let it out. “It’s been a tiring day, Farley. Not only with all the problems, which I’m sure you’re aware of, but I had to listen to Becky go on and on about some hot, gorgeous guy at the coffee shop.” She emphasized the words hot and gorgeous. Her and Becky’s taste in men were usually the complete opposite, so she wasn’t amused hearing about Becky’s latest find, especially considering she had eyed the guy and thought he’d be perfect for Jess. She was in no mood to be setup on a blind date…or any kind of date, for that matter. “I don’t need this tonight. Okay?”
“Yes, how rude of me.” He pouted, “But, I’ve had no one to talk to all day. You’ve been busy.”
“I’m sorry, Farley. You know how hectic it is the last few weeks before a production goes live. I’m well aware that everything is falling apart. I’m well aware that if I don’t pull this off, everything I’ve known and loved my whole life is down the drain.”
She was one of the few people Farley would have a conversation with, but she wasn’t excited about that fact tonight. He spent his time making ghostly noises so everyone knew the small theater in Peculiar, Connecticut was, in fact, haunted. He’d been an actor himself and died in the theater when he fell from the stage. She was a small child at the time and he doted on her, but showbiz was his life. It still was, even after his death.
“Oh yes. I so miss the hub-bub of it all. It’s not quite the same since I’m dead. And you are correct, this production is a make it or break it one. All the reason you should listen to me about these so-called actors not doing their parts right. I’ve heard Rosie practice. She’s not bad.”
Jess looked at Farley and shook her head in disbelief as she opened the door to Clara’s dressing room and peeked in. A pile of clothing in the middle of the floor caught her attention. She walked through the doorway, with Farley still yakking. Stopping in her tracks she let out a gasp, her hands flew to cover her mouth. Farley stopped his complaining and fell silent as Jess ran to the woman lying on the floor.
“Clara, are you okay?” she asked.
Farley floated over her and looked down at her, “She’s dead.”
Jess looked up at him, “Call nine one one.”
“Oh yes, where did I leave my cell phone?” he said as he ran his hands through his semi-invisible body. “It must be in my other body.”
Jess looked up at him, eyes wide, “Oh, yeah. I’ll call them. Maybe they can save her.”
“My dear child, the woman is dead.”
“How can you be sure? Are you a doctor?”
“I’m a ghost. I know dead when I see it.”
Sadness fell over Jess’ face. He had a point. She looked down at the body and stuck her fingers under the woman’s scarf, anyway. A chill ran through her body at the feel of the cool, clammy skin. Now that her eyes had adjusted to the low lighting, Jess could tell the woman had already taken on a grey hue. With her head bowed she whispered a small prayer before standing up. After she left the room and pulled the door shut, she leaned against the wall. This can’t be happening. Every ounce of energy had left her body, but she knew she had to report it. She pulled out her cell phone, took a deep, ragged breath and punched in nine-one-one.
Farley stuck his head through the wall as Jess hung up the phone with the emergency response people. “I guess Rosie will get the part now. I hope she’s ready to perform in two weeks.”
Jess put her hands on her hips and gave Farley the evil eye. “Do you have to be so insensitive?”
He tapped his ethereal temple, “I’m dead. I’m supposed to be insensitive.”
Jess blew her hair out of her face and turned to walk down the hall to wait on the police to arrive. The door opened as she approached it. Her assistant, Becky Collins, walked in, jabbering on about how she forgot to take the mail with her, but stopped and stared into Jess’ eyes when she noticed something wasn’t right.
“What’s wrong. You don’t look so good.”
Jess sat down in a chair, her knees shaking and her resolve failing. She tried to keep it together, but everything was crashing down around her. She finally spoke as Becky walked over to the chair beside her. “Clara’s dead. I found her in the dressing room.”
Becky stopped in her tracks, her hands went to her mouth. “Oh, my gosh. What happened?” She asked as she slunk down on the seat next to Jess and placed her hands on Jess’ knee.
“I’m not sure. I found her on the floor when I went to check the room and she was just dead.”
“A heart attack, maybe?”
“Could be. She was off the mark on all of her lines today. We all assumed it was because her costume was too tight and distracting her. Maybe she was sick?”
Farley chimed in, “Maybe the costume smothered her to death.”
Becky glared into the ghostly mist beside Jess. Her mouth opened to speak. Jess raised a hand, “This isn’t the time to argue with a ghost.”
Farley stuck his nose in the air and floated off.
Becky and Jess sat in silence waiting for the police to arrive. Jess was glad to have her best friend with her. She didn’t want to think selfishly at a time like this but losing her leading lady two weeks before the show could cause her to lose everything. She wasn’t sure how she would pull out of this mess. She took in a deep breath and tried to be thankful she was alive. Clara sure hadn’t been so lucky.
