The Children of Wisdom Trilogy

by Stephanie Erickson

  She snorts. “Seems like I’m having a bad day.” Her final memory finishes playing, and I realize we both missed almost the entire thing. All I see before the mists start to clear is her blowing the seeds off a daffodil as a young child. The image makes me smile.

  “You have a good heart,” I say as I lead her to the white gate. “I’m sorry you’ve started your journey into eternity this way, but I can guarantee you that things will only improve.” She follows me in total awe.

  The gates of heaven open in greeting, and two angels are there waiting for her. They have golden hair and white gowns that billow welcomingly around them. They stand with their arms extended out, as if reaching for her, and their huge, white wings stretching behind. At the sight of them, I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding. They will keep her safe. She will not end up in that horrible prison with the others.

  “Audrey, welcome home.” They hold their arms out to her, and she rushes toward them without restraint. I watch her go, and the angels nod at me. Despite the fact that I know she’s safe with them, I still stand there watching her make her way to them until she is safely, well, under their wings.

  Turning around, I scan the mists, searching for another Reaper. I want to know if the others are having this same problem, but no one is around at the moment. Not wanting to waste time dillydallying, I take a deep breath and head back to Earth.

  The rest of my day only gets worse. My productivity is down to an all-time low. Everywhere I go, the ghosts are waiting for me, so I spent most of my day dodging them.

  I try hanging back in the mists until the last possible moment, but that doesn’t work. It takes too long for my assignment to catch sight of me. I nearly lose him to the ghosts. I try hiding behind anything I can find—shrubs, cars, and desks—but that doesn’t work either. As soon as I introduce myself to my assignment, it’s over. The ghosts are all over me, as if grasping for their missed opportunity.

  With each assignment, the number of ghosts seems to increase. A lot of souls had been left behind, I knew this, but I didn’t anticipate them flocking to me. I started with only a handful, but by the end of my workday, that number has doubled. There are at least ten waiting for me each time I touch down on Earth. Ten ghosts versus one Reaper. How do they know where I’ll be each time? The only thing I can reason out is that they’re drawn to dying people because they know a Reaper will come to collect them.

  What’s even stranger is that they’re not the same ghosts. They’re different from one visit to the next. It’s staggering.

  My day is almost over by the time I arrive at Alvin Welstein’s house in a small town near the coast of Alabama. Thankfully, the man I’m collecting has lived a long life, so he should be ready to go. His wife passed years ago, and he’s been lonely ever since. He’s dying in his own bed, surrounded by their children and grandchildren, in the home they shared for over fifty years. As I climb the steps to his room, I prepare myself for the ghosts I know will be waiting for me. I hear his family members in the dining room, talking quietly over a cup of tea. When I reach the bedroom door, I stop and say a silent prayer. I know what waits for me on the other side, and I can only hope I have the strength to get through it.

  As I go through the door, I don’t make a sound. I glance nervously at the ghosts that surround my assignment before I speak to him. They aren’t looking at him—they’re keeping watch for someone. I know it’s me, but they haven’t spotted me yet.

  I go to him as quickly as I can. “Come, Alvin. Aimee is waiting for you.” It’s not a technique I use often, as there’s no way of guaranteeing they will both go to the same place and see each other on the other side. But it’s a risk I’m willing to take given the fact that ten ghosts have locked in on me and are closing in around us.

  “What’s happening?” Alvin asks as he firmly grips my hand. The tremble tells me he’s just as frightened as I am.

  “They want to go home too.”

  “Let’s bring them along. It might be fun,” he says, trying to keep a lighthearted tone, although I can hear fear in the quiver of his voice.

  The ghosts approach us menacingly, reaching out with silvery arms, their stone-cold grey eyes staring us down.

  “Wait!” they call out to us. “Please.” Their voices are as faint as the wind, and the sound shakes some of my terror loose. They don’t want to hurt us, at least not directly.

  They want my help.

  “There are children,” Alvin says, his voice horrified.

  “I know.” My heart breaks. If only they were all old men who have lived long lives on Earth and stuck around to cause trouble for their grandkids. But two of them are kids. Kids who were meant to live in comfort for eternity, but who have instead been left behind to watch their families mourn them. Some will have to witness their families be ripped apart by the tragedy of losing them. And all because a few Reapers aren’t doing their jobs.

  “We can’t leave them,” Alvin insists.

  “But we must. We can’t help them,” I say calmly, trying not to let him see my anger and despair.

  “I don’t accept that,” he says, turning away from me. He’s remarkably strong for an old man, and he jerks my arm when I refuse to release his hand. “I want to help you. Tell me how to help you,” he says to the spirits, but they ignore him. Their eyes are only for me.

  He holds out his free arm to a nearby child. “Come with us,” he says to her. She’s small, maybe four, and one of her hands is balled in a transparent blanket while she sucks her thumb. She doesn’t make eye contact with Alvin. Tears spring to my eyes as I look at her. She just stares at me, her eyes filled with fear.

  “Come,” I force myself to say to Alvin. “Your wife is waiting. If you stay here, you two will be apart for all of eternity.”

  “Just like these folks are separated from their loved ones?” He keeps staring at the little girl, reaching out for her with desperation.

  I don’t know what will happen if he touches her. The ghosts are all around us now, within arm’s reach of me. Of us. Even if Alvin doesn’t touch her, I have no idea how we’re going to get out of this.

  They grab at me, but their hands just pass through me, sending a rush of sadness through me with each swipe. “I’m sorry,” I say through the tears that are now spilling freely from my eyes. “I can’t help you. And the longer you keep me here, the more souls will join you.”

  But they don’t want to hear it. They know they don’t belong on Earth, and they long to break free.

  “Why didn’t a Reaper take me home?”

  “Why is he special?”

  “What did I do to deserve this?”

  The questions come at me, one after another, each from a different voice, and I bring my hands to my ears, pressing the back of the old man’s hand to the side of my head, hoping I can block the sound.

  But he pulls our joined hands down. “They deserve to know,” he says, but his expression is more sympathetic. “I’m no better than this child. Seems to me she’s more deserving of an escort. What’s happened?”

  I shift my weight, not sure of what to say. There’s been no discussion on how to handle this. In fact, I’m not sure it was even an anticipated scenario. I have no idea what to tell these spirits. I have many of the same questions they do.

  “If I told you the truth, it wouldn’t change your fates,” I finally say. “Earth is your home now. I’m so sorry. There’s nothing I can do for you.” I hold out my hand to the nearest ghost, a teenage boy. He reaches for me, but his hand just passes through mine like all the others have. The sadness in his eyes breaks my heart more, causing me to collapse to the ground.

  I look up at him. “Please know I’m working hard to prevent more victims from meeting the same fate.”

  They are not comforted by this. As ghosts, all they care about is what happened to them. Rarely do I see ghosts congregate together, and even more infrequently do they pay any mind to other ghosts. Desperation has brought these spirits together. A
nd I fear that same desperation will keep me here on Earth with them.

  “I need to go. I must take Mr. Weltstein back. All I can say is that I’m sorry.” It’s not enough, and I know it. But I don’t think there’s anything I can do for them. I can only wish that things had happened differently.

  I feel drained and shattered as I sit at the feet of the ghosts around me. They close the circle around us even tighter. I know I must summon the strength to pass through them, but I’m already so exhausted. The mists lie mere feet away, but I’m not sure I can take us to them. The ghosts have drained my energy and life force. They’re trying to get home, and they’ll do it any way they can. But they’re not working together, which means we still have a chance of getting out of here.

  “Stop,” Alvin says to the ghosts. “You’re hurting her.” He holds out his hand, but they pay him no mind. They keep grasping at me, each of them taking a small piece of me for themselves.

  I’m fading. I can feel it. All at once, I’m exhausted and scared. My fight-or-flight instinct is in full gear. I’m so tired; I just want to sit here and let it happen. But my heart is racing with fear.

  Searching the ghosts’ faces as they claw at me, I notice one of them has stopped. He’s turned away from the rest. The others follow his gaze, and one by one, they turn to look at something.

  Alvin’s voice is distant, a mere echo of what I know it should be. “Hang on. Help is here.”

  Warmth encircles me, and I close my eyes, reveling in the sensation. I have no idea how long they stay closed, but when I open them again, a man I don’t recognize is looking deep into my eyes.

  “Hello there,” he says, his voice as scruffy as his appearance. He has a short, scraggly gray beard to match his thin, gray hair. His untucked flannel shirt and loose-fitting jeans make him look like half lumberjack and half homeless. Upon further examination, I notice he’s far too clean to be homeless, so I settle on lumberjack.

  His pale blue eyes are kind, and I can tell they see far more than they should. I sit up in a panic.

  “Who are you? Why can you see me?” I say as I scoot away from him.

  “Name’s Wyatt.” He kneels down and holds out a hand to me. I shrink back from it, and Alvin puts his arms around me.

  “But you let go of my hand, Alvin! How are you not a ghost? What’s happening?” I say, panicking. I glance around frantically, taking in the scene around me. I’m on the floor in Alvin’s bedroom. The ghosts are gone, but the mists remain. Alvin still has a shot at joining his wife.

  “It’s all right,” Alvin says, nodding. “He’s saved you, you know. As far as the ghost thing, I don’t know. Time seemed to stop for a moment there, I guess to give you a chance to recover.”

  I blink at the rough-around-the-edges man in front of me. “You saved me? How?”

  “Just by doing my thing,” he says simply, as if that’s supposed to explain everything. Then he gives me a quizzical look. “What’s the deal with the influx? Haven’t seen this many ghosties wandering around since, well…” He scratches at his beard while he considers the question. “Ever.”

  “I—” I start to explain, but he hasn’t answered any of my questions. His smug grin isn’t hidden by his ill-groomed beard.

  As my energy starts to return, I sit up straighter and fold my arms over my chest. “Answer my questions first if you want me to answer yours.”

  Alvin chuckles behind me. “You’ve got your hands full with this one, Wyatt.”

  Wyatt’s eyes sparkle, and he winks at me. “You drive a hard bargain, missy. But fine. I’ll tell you who I am.” He sits back and folds his legs, getting comfortable on the floor of the old man’s room. It gives me the impression it’s going to be a long story. Alvin stays behind me, and I’m glad for it. He’s a comforting presence, and the hand he claps onto my shoulder imparts warmth.

  “I’m a medium. I can see ghosts, talk to them, comfort them, calm them if possible, and relocate them if not.” He shrugs. “That’s it.”

  Opening my mouth, I close it again. I expected more, but what he’s said explains everything. “I didn’t know mediums were a real thing.”

  “Most aren’t.”

  We sit in a stalemate for a few moments before the rest of my questions fill the empty space in the room.

  “And Alvin’s family just let you in here alone with their dying father?” I say skeptically.

  “No, I used my ladder and climbed in through the window. They don’t know I’m here. I’ll go out the same way, so they don’t suspect anything fishy.”

  “Nice,” I say, wondering about the man who saved me. Who climbs into a window to be near a dead man?

  “Hey, if you’ve got any better ideas, I’m all ears,” he says, knowing he’s got me.

  We sit in silence for several moments while I try to get my head around everything and my thoughts circle back to the ghosts. “How did you distract the ghosts? And where did they go?” I scan the room for any sign of the ghosts and come up empty. We’re alone.

  “Nope. I answered one for you. Now you answer one for me. What’s happening, Reaper? Why so many ghosts?”

  He knows what I am. Not only can he see me, but he also knows me. How? But I can tell from his stern but kind expression that he won’t answer me until I reciprocate. I lean closer to him, and he does the same, as if we’re a couple of kids sharing secrets with each other.

  “Something’s very wrong.”

  “I gathered that.”

  I straighten. “Do you want to hear it or not?”

  He chuckles and nods. “My apologies.”

  “It started with the surprises—people who weren’t supposed to be taken to their final homes for decades. Suddenly, their names were on our lists to be taken now. It added to the workload, and we struggled to keep up. Soon after, a Reaper disappeared. Some Reapers have refused to work because of the ‘danger,’ resulting in an influx of ‘ghosties,’ as you call them.” I can’t help glancing around again, searching for them. It’s only then I notice Alvin hasn’t changed a single thing about the room since I came to collect his wife. I remember all the humans I’ve helped. The number is tremendous, but they’re all special in some way. Aimee is no exception.

  The same floral-print quilt is on the bed, the same pictures hang from the walls, the same trinkets are on the dresser, and her makeup still rests untouched on the antique vanity in the corner. The thought of his love for her warms me, as does the fact that he still has a chance to be reunited with her.

  But I still have questions for this medium. “How do you know who I am?”

  “Well, I don’t know that I know who you are. I know what you are.”

  “How?” I press, a small amount of irritation seeping into my voice.

  “Honey, I’ve been doing this a long time. When you spend this much time around the dead, you learn things. I know about Reapers. A few of the spirits who chose not to go with you told me about you folks long ago. That fella behind you is a bit too normal to be a Reaper, so I figured you were the one workin’ today.”

  Alvin smiles. “I’ve always liked being normal.”

  It’s too much for me. A medium who knows what I am…? Does he know anything else?

  “What else do you know?”

  He shrugged. “What specifically are you lookin’ for?”

  “Nothing, I guess. And everything. This is unprecedented. I have no idea how to proceed.”

  He smiled. “I imagine you ought to take Mr. Alvin here home and be done with it. Especially if you’re behind on your work. Best not be sitting here on your laurels,” he says, barely holding back a laugh.

  He’s teasing me. In spite of myself, I smile at him. “Where did the ghosts go?”

  “They were attracted to your heavenly energy. So I gave them something else to go after. When they get frenzied like that, they’re a bit like zombies. Single-minded, simple beings. I just had to give them something else to focus on. A different, stronger source of energy.”

&n
bsp; It seems simple, but I know it isn’t. “Easy as that?”

  “Easy as that.”

  I stare at him, raising an eyebrow. He chuckles again and lifts his hands in surrender. “Fine. They’re in the van, over that way.” He nods over my shoulder, and I go to the window. Sure enough, there’s an unmarked white van with a trailer attached to the back.

  “You fit ten ghosts into that van?”

  “Well, some are in the trailer. Ghosts are surprisingly compact,” he adds with a shrug. “Ghosties can pass through just about anything, but the van is specially equipped to hold them. Think of an electromagnetic field. It’s not exactly the same, but you get the idea. As long as the field is active, they’ll be contained inside.”

  I shake my head, not sure what to do with all this information.

  “Well, I hope your friends come back to work soon, missy.”

  “Michaela,” I say, offering my name to him as an olive branch.

  “Michaela,” he says. “There’s only one of me, and I can’t be everywhere. I was lucky to come across poor Alvin here.”

  “How did you find us?” Alvin asks.

  “I was out drivin’ and suddenly had the urge to take a look at some of these old houses. Not sure where that came from. Then I came across this place. I knew something was up when I sensed the size of the gathering. Ghosts are selfish creatures. They don’t listen to each other at all… Honestly, I’m not convinced they can even see each other, which makes for a lonely existence if you think about it. But that’s why they don’t have much of a reason to congregate. I knew something had drawn them all together, and whatever it was would lose the fight. So I pulled over and found you two.”

  Did the hand of God steer him here, or was it mere coincidence? But if I’ve learned anything recently, it’s that coincidences are unlikely at best.

  Wyatt thought for a moment before asking me, “Has the missing Reaper been found?”

  I shake my head, and he frowns. “Something fishy is going on, mi…” He stops and corrects himself. “Michaela. And like I said, I’m only one guy. What’re the odds you’ll need to pick someone up in my neck of the woods again? What will you do next time?”