Spooky Little Girl

by Laurie Notaro

  The old woman’'s smile was contagious, and both Lucy and Bethanny caught it.

  “"I’'m ready,”" Bethanny squeaked.

  Ruby put one arm around Bethanny and the other hand on her shoulder and squeezed affectionately. “"You know, there are some things I need to fill you in on about your trip,”" the old woman said. “"So I’'m going to take Lucy first, and then you and I will talk about it, okay? And maybe we’'ll find you something to wear around here besides pajamas.”"

  Bethanny grinned from ear to ear. “"It’'s really going to be special, isn’'t it?”" she squealed, barely able to contain herself. “"They got a DJ, huh? Oh, I am so excited to go dancing! I am going to have the best funeral ever, I just know it! It’'s going to be a great party! And really, I don’'t mind the pajamas, they’'re very comfortable. I would love some shoes, though. If you have anything with a kitten heel and a peep toe, that would be my first choice!”"

  “"We’'ll see what we can do. But in the meantime, you can go over the catalog again. I’'ll only be a minute,”" the old woman said with a smile, and then turned to Lucy. “"Are you ready, dear? I just delivered Mr. Russell to his service. Boy, what a chunky family he had, all lined up at the buffet, forks poised like spears. There was so much food there I thought a pharaoh had died! I’'m surprised more of them haven’'t choked to death on foodstuffs, to be honest.”"

  Lucy followed Ruby out of SD1118 and into the hallway.

  “"Are you looking forward to this, Lucy?”" the instructor asked.

  Lucy couldn’'t help but nod and smile. “"I am,”" she admitted. “"I’'m also very excited to see how we’'re going to get there. Are we going to tele-transport? Fall to earth? Sail on a ghost ship? Repel? Wormhole? Please say it’'s a wormhole. I’'ve really got all my hopes kind of pinned on that one.”"

  Ruby stopped dead in her tracks and burst out laughing. “"Funny. That’'s as good as the ‘'seven people you meet in heaven,’'”" she whispered as she leaned toward Lucy.

  She then stepped forward and pushed a small, circular, and slightly protruding button in the wall, after which two metal and rickety doors slowly slid apart in opposite directions.

  “"Really? Where did you get an idea like that? No, we’'re not taking a—--what did you call it?—--a wormhole?”" Ruby said as she stepped forward and entered the compartment behind the doors. “"We’'re taking the elevator.”"

  “"An elevator?”" Lucy questioned with a laugh as she followed the old woman in. “"All the way …... down there?”"

  “"Why do you assume we’'re going down?”" Ruby chuckled, pressing another button that sent the noisy doors sliding jerkily shut. “"We may be going up. But yes, we’'re taking the elevator all the way there. Listen, from what I hear, it’'s a tremendous improvement over taking the stairway. It wasn’'t so long ago that we’'d have to walk the whole way. If you had died a hundred or so years ago, we’'d be hoofing it.”"

  “"A stairway? You’'ve got to be kidding me. Was it hard to climb?”"

  “"How would I know? I wasn’'t even born then,”" Ruby responded. “"But I know it would sure take a lot longer.”"

  Lucy was surprised. From the woman’'s black cloak and her wrinkled, puckered face, Lucy had just assumed that Ruby was as old as the ages, and had been a figure at ghost school since the beginning of time. It never occurred to her that Ruby’'s alive time may have just paralleled her own.

  “"Wait—--how old are you?”" Lucy ventured.

  “"What, you think I’'m a vampire? As old as the pyramids, maybe? Did I know Queen Victoria, Genghis Khan, Lizzie Borden? Did I ever date a Viking? Was I here when the universe was created? Was the universe created? Hell if I know. I did the twist at my prom. I watched the Beatles on the Ed Sullivan show. I’'ve been here for a while, but not as long as you think. I got here a couple of years ago—--maybe. It’'s hard to keep track. The space-time continuum isn’'t the same as what you’'re used to, you know.”"

  Lucy was shocked. “"Really? But your robe—--I just thought, I don’'t know, druid, Puritan, Spanish inquisitor, Salem witch trials?”"

  “"This thing?”" Ruby said as she looked down at her dark woollen robe, complete with hood. “"No! I saw The French Lieutenant’'s Woman on TV. I made one for myself because it rained eight months out of the year where I lived, and I could go shopping in it and not get wet. It looked so practical. Plus, I liked my privacy. No one could see me. Coulda been Meryl Streep under here. It was nobody’'s business what I bought. Look, this thing is just a blanket with arms. It’'s a Snuggie. I was a fashion pioneer, you know.”"

  “"So—--you were wearing that when you passed? How did you die?”"

  “"Well, my arms were free, you know,”" Ruby started, then hesitated, waving her arms all around. “"So I would wear this sometimes at night, reclining in my chair, and I like my cocktails. Who doesn’'t, right?”"

  “"Sure,”" Lucy agreed.

  “"Well, you spill once, you spill twice, you spill a couple of times, and this thing has to be dry-cleaned and it’'s quite absorbent. It’'s a pain,”" the old woman said simply, then shrugged. “"I lit a cigarette, and I don’'t know. Maybe a lit ash fell, and that, with maybe too much vodka soaked into the fabric, well, I went up like a Roman candle.”"

  “"You’'re kidding,”" Lucy replied.

  “"Nope. Why would I kid?”" Ruby replied. “"Why would I kid about spontaneously combusting?”"

  “"Wow,”" Lucy said, amazed. “"I’'ve never met anyone who spontaneously combusted before! Did it, um, hurt?”"

  “"Come on,”" Ruby chided. “"You got squashed by a bus. Did that hurt?”"

  Lucy laughed. She liked Ruby. She seemed like someone Lucy would have enjoyed spending time with when they’'d still been breathing. She couldn’'t help but feel a little sad that they had never gotten the chance.

  “"Why aren’'t you a ghost?”" Lucy suddenly asked her.

  “"But I am a ghost,”" the cloaked one answered. “"In fact, I am an excellent ghost. You happen to be looking at one of the best. I caught on to haunting as if I was born to do it. I was so good at the trade that the higher-ups asked me to stay on and help teach the incoming dead. Surprise Demisers are the slowest to learn. Our pupils didn’'t expect to be where they are quite so fast. It’'s a lot to process. The old, the sick, they’'ve had time to prepare, or even just think about it, absorb it a little. But in SD, there are a whole lot of factors at hand besides learning how to flicker the lights or turn the water faucet on. Today, Lucy, you’'re tearing off the Band-Aid. This is a very vital step for you, closing the door of your old world behind you and moving forward into a new and frankly, I think a much more exciting existence.”"

  “"I’'m excited to see my sister and my friends,”" she admitted. “"And I’'m hoping someone brought my dog.”"

  “"Ah, I miss my dogs more than anything,”" Ruby said, closing her eyes hard for a second. “"But I know they’'re being well taken care of. My nephew has them.”"

  A teeny bell rang, and the rickety doors began to open slowly. Beyond the doors, Lucy saw a very nicely decorated hall, as if she was in the foyer of a very stately manor house—--or funeral home.

  “"We’'re here,”" Ruby let her know, and they stepped out onto a gleaming white marble floor. Lucy looked at Ruby, unsure of what she should do next. “"You’'re through those double doors over there.”"

  Ruby raised a cloaked arm and pointed toward a set of carved ornate doors to Lucy’'s left. Two lovely and towering flower arrangements flanked the sides of the doorway, each resting on an elegant and matching Chippendale side table.

  Beautiful flowers, Lucy thought. That’'s a good start. I wanted some like those for my wedding.

  One of the doors was already ajar, and Lucy heard the hint of organ music drifting out into the foyer.

  “"I guess I should go?”" she asked Ruby uncertainly, and then she heard the clop-clop-clop of dress shoes coming from behind them. Lucy turned and saw a tall middl
e-aged man dressed in a somber dark suit walking briskly from the hall behind them.

  “"I have to fart!”" Ruby loudly announced to the man.

  “"Ruby!”" Lucy scolded, sharply turning around to face the old lady, shocked at what she had just done.

  But the man’'s stride did not break, his pace didn’'t slow, he simply kept walking past the two of them and toward the set of ornate doors flanked by the twin flower arrangements.

  “"Look!”" Ruby yelled even louder, and pointed at the man. “"He looks like he hasn’'t seen a ghost!”"

  Once he reached the doors, he stopped, quietly opened the one that was ajar, and slipped inside.

  “"He didn’'t hear you,”" Lucy said, surprised, and then, she was surprised again because she should have known better.

  “"You can move among them,”" Ruby informed her. “"You can sit where you like. You can even sit on them, although I wouldn’'t really recommend that. Some of them really smell close up. You can say what you wish, you can run into them, yell in their ear, do a striptease, or actually try to fart. They can’'t hear you. Your skill level is below basic. No one will see you, feel you, or know you’'re there. You’'re simply invisible. And you won’'t be seeing these people for a while, Lucy, so take it all in.”"

  Lucy nodded, listening to Ruby’'s every word.

  “"Any questions?”" Ruby asked.

  “"I have four million questions for you,”" Lucy laughed. “"But for right now, I just go in there and watch?”"

  “"Do whatever you feel like doing. You might want to hang back for a little while and see what feels natural,”" Ruby advised. “"Wander around. Listen. Make the most of it. Understand what’'s happening here.”"

  Lucy nodded.

  “"And, Lucy,”" Ruby said, gently touching Lucy’'s arm, “"it might not be the way you envision it. It might be completely different than what you think it’'s going to be like. Not only the service but your reaction. They might play lousy music. There may be some folks you don’'t care for that show up. Funerals are always full of surprises. Know that whatever happens, it’'s okay. And when you’'re ready to go, call me. Just out loud, call me. I’'ll be there to bring you back.”"

  Lucy nodded again.

  “"Good luck,”" Ruby said, patting Lucy on the arm before turning and walking down the short hallway. She pushed the button on the wall and stepped back into the elevator. Lucy heard the doors close with a metallic clank.

  She stood there for a moment, looking at the set of double doors, telling herself to take a step. But she couldn’'t. Her legs wouldn’'t move, and her eyes focused only on the set of doors that separated her from the people she loved most in the world. And, then again, possibly some she didn’'t.

  Suddenly, a fire of panic flew up her spine and she resisted the impulse to run to the elevator and push the button, but when she turned around, the elevator was gone, replaced with the same paneling that matched the rest of the wall.

  She wanted nothing more than to yell out “"Ruby!”" and get whisked back to the Transition Center again, but she knew that would be foolish.

  This is ridiculous, she thought. What am I afraid of? I know everyone in there. They can’'t even see me. I can do whatever I like. What am I afraid of?

  And as Lucy stood there, barely more than a yard away from the doors to her funeral, she began to understand. This was the last time she’'d see most of these people for a long time, the last time she could pretend to be alive in an earthly place, even if it was at her funeral. But she had to go in. There wasn’'t a choice of fight or flight. She had to go in and see for herself—--see her family, her friends, and, ultimately, even herself. That, of course, was going to be the most bizarre moment of all. She imagined her body would sort of look like the doll a nurse had brought to her sixth-grade class to teach mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on, but with a curly brown wig plopped on its head and lipstick in a shade Lucy would hopefully prefer. Behind those doors was the unknown, she told herself, and then she quickly realized she’'d already crossed into the greatest unknown, the one every single person in that room was terrified of. I’'ve done it. I’'ve done it and it was a piece of cake. Well, so far. There was nothing, not one thing, left in Lucy’'s world to be afraid of. Summoning up all of her bravery, Lucy took the necessary steps forward to get to the door, lifted her arm up, opened her palm, and reached for the door handle, which slipped straight through her hand. She tried it once more, and again her hand moved straight through it, although she could feel the solid handle pass through, cold and hard. It didn’'t hurt; she simply felt its presence, as if her hand was moving through the object like a cloud.

  Hmm, she thought, wondering how she was going to get into the room.

  Well, she finally concluded, if my hand can go through that handle, then maybe I can go through this. She took a few steps backward, focused all of her concentration on the door, and marched right into it, feeling the door pass through her, almost like walking through a large, determined ocean wave.

  Quite pleased with herself, Lucy now found she was inside the viewing room, which was small, quiet, and had about ten rows of folding chairs. She saw the backs of the heads of three people—--Alice in the middle, Jared next to her, and an unknown female head on Alice’'s other side. The middle-aged man in the dress shoes, obviously the funeral director, stood off to one side with his hands folded, and another man, also dressed in black, sat in the very last seat of the first row. The music was slow and organ-y—--almost like Muzak but far more somber and slow, and although she recognized the melody of the song, it wasn’'t in the right context. She couldn’'t place it.

  “"Deee, da-deee, da-deee,”" Lucy hummed to herself.

  I wonder what time this thing is going to start. I must be here awfully early. She heard a sniffle. It was Alice. The funeral director plucked a tissue out of the box on the table next to him and went toward her, offering it to her. Alice gently took it, and then quietly blew her nose.

  Quickly, Lucy walked toward the front of the room. She wanted to put her arms around her sister and tell her it was all right. She was fine. She was in a—--well, not a better place, but sort of an okay place. There were free movies, free bowling, and she didn’'t have to pay rent. And she would never have another bad hair day! That was something to celebrate, right?

  “"Alice,”" Lucy called as she picked up her speed, walking past the rows of chairs. “"Alice! I’'m here. It’'s Lucy. I’'m right here.”"

  Alice sniffled again just as Lucy turned the corner of the first row, just as the funeral director suddenly leaned forward to provide Alice with another Kleenex. Lucy walked right into him, and at the moment of their collision, he hiccuped.

  “"Excuse me,”" he said quietly as Alice lifted the Kleenex from his hand.

  Lucy knelt in front of her sister, the sensation of running into the funeral director still hanging on her. It was quite unlike the door handle, which had been cold and solid; this had been more like running into a wall of warm Silly Putty.

  “"Alice, it’'s me,”" she whispered. “"I’'m here. It’'s okay. I’'m all right. I’'m fine. Everything is going to be okay.”"

  No response. She put her hand on Alice’'s knee, all warm and Silly Putty-ish, and patted it gently. Alice looked up, almost right at Lucy. She took a deep breath, still staring in Lucy’'s direction.

  “"Whew,”" Alice exhaled. “"It’'s okay. I’'m all right. I’'m fine. Everything is going to be okay.”"

  Lucy sat up. She heard me. She heard me. Well, she didn’'t hear me, but she must have heard me.

  “"I’'m sorry, Mom,”" Jared said. He was dressed in a nice navy-blue jacket a little too small for him, and he put his arm around Alice’'s shoulders. “"I loved Aunt Lucy, too.”"

  Alice nodded, and blew her nose again.

  “"I love Jared right back,”" Lucy said.

  “"She loved you right back, sweetie,”" Alice said. She cradled her son’'s face in her hand and then gave him a qui
ck kiss on the forehead. “"We can start now, Mr. Harris. We’'re ready.”"

  “"Are you sure?”" the funeral director asked, looking a little taken aback.

  Lucy also couldn’'t believe what she was hearing. Starting already? But no one was there. Not one of her friends, no co-workers, no sobbing friends from high school, not even one single patient whose plaque she had scraped off their nasty old teeth. What the hell did Alice mean she was ready to start? No one had come yet! Where were Jilly and Warren, and Marianne? Where was Martin?And then suddenly, Lucy realized something else was missing—--something vital.

  Like Lucy.

  “"I’'m not even here yet, Alice!”" Lucy said, shooting up to her feet. “"You can’'t start the funeral without the corpse! A funeral without a body is—--is—--just a meeting! You have to wait for me to show up! You have to wait for the body!”"

  “"Did—--”" Mr. Harris began delicately. “"Did you want to wait a little bit longer for guests, Ms. Fisher?”"

  Alice shook her head, a tissue pressed hard against her nose.

  “"No,”" she said. Then she looked up. “"It’'s just us here—--me, Jared, and my neighbor Susan, who was so kind to drive us. And Reverend—--I’'m sorry, Reverend, I’'ve forgotten your name …...”"

  “"Reverend Gary, of the Jesus, Mary, and Joseph Assembly,”" he said, and nodded primly.

  “"And Reverend Gary of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,”" Alice replied. “"So thank you for asking, Mr. Harris, but we can begin.”"

  Lucy’'s head spun. She grasped for a chair, and collapsed into the one next to Susan. “"This can’'t be happening, this can’'t be happening, this can’'t be happening,”" she muttered over and over.

  Da, deee-da, deee-da …... The melody above her floated from the speaker.

  Lucy shook her head unbelievingly, shook it, shook it, shook it.

  I can’'t believe it.

  Suddenly she jumped up out of the chair—--shot out like a rocket, really—--and began jumping up and down in a furious, frantic, angry motion.