From outside, William shouted, “They should be called Re-Volt.”
I laughed and decided I liked these two, and if I have to be a ghost for all eternity, at least I was in good company.
“Good one,” I sang out. “Leo’s tried countless times to get the others to agree to play more meaningful songs. He says he outgrew the senseless noise when he and I started dating, but he’s had a hard time convincing Simon and Thomas. Leo was writing songs on the secret. In fact, we were in competition with each other. Reach For The Stars is holding auditions right here in Providence.”
When Anne gave me a blank stare, I added, “The TV show?”
Her blue eyes narrowed and then widened in recognition. “I know the one. Sadly, I only get to watch TV when living people turn it on. Ooh, but I adore songs. Please sing us the song you wrote for the audition.”
“You haven’t finished telling me your story.”
Anne frowned. “You will learn that time is in no short supply here, so it is best to stretch the stories out. Please sing for us.”
I curled my feet up under me. “To be honest, I haven’t written anything. Writing about someone you love isn’t so easy. Every time I start to compose the words or the music, I’m overcome with failure. Like, nothing I say can ever measure up to what I feel inside, and any attempt to put what I feel into words just seems so inadequate.”
William’s face appeared in the window. “Then I will sing for you:
“November trees brace ‘gainst the winds
Leaves orange, red and gold
Aspens glow, sunlight beams
Upon path and road
Hark, the song of busy birds
Hail, shine or rain, they toil
Make haste, before winter maiden
Buries icy glove in soil
November showers, autumn winds
Bearing darkness down to stay
Golden leaves, oh acrobats
You twirl and hurry away
In dead of night, black bird sings
Mournful is her chime
Death, she knows, flies quietly
Black bird hurries, wastes no time
Savage is the winter kiss
All too quickly daylight fades
Halo is a crown with thorns
For those who seek out Hades”
He finished singing and Anne stood up and applauded. Rushing over to peer out the window, I saw William was now hanging from a tree branch. I couldn’t stop laughing. I also couldn’t stop the sense of guilt that washed over me – I was laughing while Leo was crying.
I shook off the gloom, and forced cheerfulness into my voice, telling myself I should stay positive for Anne’s and William’s sake. After all, I was merely dead – they were dead and cursed.
“Okay, you’ve convinced me a song from this century is in order. I’ll sing for you, on the condition you continue with the story of how you and William met your fate.”
I closed my eyes as if sorting through my mental library and all I saw was the image of Mom’s Jeep careening over the embankment. I choose to sing a tragic ballad:
“I am a cross
At the side of the road
Covered in flowers
Sweet roses of gold
No more can I see them
How that makes me cry
At the side of the road
Is forever where I lie
I am a memory
Too painful for some
Now others bring flowers
I don’t know who they’re from
Would I could I’d say thank you
How that makes me weep
At the side of the road
Is forever where I sleep
I am with angels
In sweet heaven above
There are those who don’t know this
But I once found true love
And always I’ll be waiting
To again touch his face
At the side of the road
I found my resting place.”
After I’d finished, my cheeks felt warm and I figured, throughout the night I’d swiped at the tears, now I should let them cascade like a river. If they ran for long enough maybe they’d wear down through my flesh and bone to form a crater-like dam, which would come in handy; I doubted the tears would ever stop and I’d need somewhere to store them.
The wind outside rattled the shutters and I opened my eyes, hoping to view a different day and feeling horrendously let down when I didn’t.
“Such a sad song,” Anne whispered. “Yet…beautiful at the same time.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I got an A+ in music. Teacher said I must be a reincarnation of John Lennon.”
Anne tilted her head. “Oh. You did not write that song about your own demise?”
“No. Leo and I were driving into Prospect, and on our way home the car hit an oily patch on the road. We skidded. The car did a complete three-sixty. Thankfully we didn’t crash into the oncoming cars, but we did end up off the side of the road. We pulled over to let our heartbeats return to normal, and there, staked into the ground was a wooden cross with a bunch of flowers tied to it.”
Anne’s eyes lit up. “How intriguing.”
“It gets more so. There was a newspaper clipping pinned to the cross. A young woman’s car had run off the run and crashed into a tree. She’d died. The flowers were from her lover.”
“This is turning into a tragedy.”
“Agreed. But in a way it’s also a very romantic story. The crash happened ten years ago and the newspaper clipping said the lover vowed to return every year on the anniversary of her death to replace the flowers. And every year he’s returned, not only has he replaced the floral arrangement he’s also carved the date into the cross. How’s that for true love?”
No sooner had the words left my mouth than an agonizing grief rammed into my chest. My throat unlatched and a sob escaped. “Oh Leo, I’m sorry I died.”
Anne rushed over to my side and embraced me. We curled up on the couch, pressed up against each other, and throughout the night my tears flowed. They continued until light seeped in through the cracks.
I had survived my first twenty-four hours as a ghost.
***
Now morning, Anne and I had barely uncurled our feet from beneath our legs when Audrey materialized through the closed doorway. She looked totally at home wearing a black shift dress, leggings, gloves, and beret.
She was in her astral projection state. She didn’t need to say a word. I knew why she was here.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” she exclaimed. “I went to the hollow first and you weren’t there. I wanted to make sure you’re okay. You ran off yesterday and mom was calling for me so I couldn’t come after you.”
I rose from the couch. “I’m good, considering the circumstances. And you’re wasting your breath if you’ve come to tell me not to go to my funeral.” I crossed my arms over my chest to bolster my confidence. “I’m going to pay a visit to Leo and there is nothing you can say to stop me.”
Audrey drew her eyebrows together and indicated to Anne with a lift of her chin. “Who’s your friend?”
I moved a protective inch sideways. “This is Anne. She was in the cabin when I arrived.” She was also the only friend I had at a time when I needed more, not less.
“She’s a poltergeist,” Audrey said matter-of-factly. “Or a demon. Yep, those clothes are ancient. She’s probably a demon.”
“Anne’s not a demon.”
Anne cast a long and curious gaze over Audrey. “How come she can communicate with you? She is not of the spirit world.”
Audrey’s face was unreadable. I couldn’t tell if having a conversation with a ghost impressed her or not. Considering I’d found out yesterday my half-sister could walk the astral plane in spirit form, this was possibly an everyday occurrence for her.
“I’m in a meditative state and I’ve willed my spirit to walk the astral plane,” Audrey explaine
d.
Anne’s horror was evident on her face. She jumped off the couch and ran into the kitchen. “You’re a witch.”
“I don’t have time to pretend I’m offended,” Audrey snapped. “I’m already late. Ruby, please don’t go to your funeral. No good can come of this. Think of poor Leo.”
“I am thinking of poor Leo. That’s why I have to go.”
“You don’t belong in the real world. You’re putting your soul at risk the longer you stay. You have to move on.”
Maybe I didn’t belong in the real world, but I didn’t belong in this un-real either.
The beep of an alarm clock broke Audrey’s hold and she flicked a glance – annoyance – at her wristwatch. “Dammit. I took too long finding you. Please promise me you’ll stay away from the funeral.”
In a flash she disappeared.
“You saw her disappear before I could answer,” I told Anne. “So I can’t break a promise she didn’t stick around to substantiate.”
“I don’t like magic.” Anne’s eyes smoldered like an extinguished candle.
“That wasn’t magic. Audrey woke herself up out of her trance by setting the alarm on her watch. I guess there’s no point me asking if you wanna come to my funeral.”
She shook her head and her voice had a little catch to it – worry. “I cannot leave the cabin. But…you really should take the witch’s advice and stay here. To attend one’s own funeral is morbid in any century.”
I agreed, but my gut churned at the idea of staying away. “I have to go.”
Anne kissed me on the cheek. “Then go. But hurry back. I fear the longer you stay with the ones you love, the more difficult it will be for you to let go when the time comes.”
I only had to close my eyes to picture the chapel on the north side of town with its pyramid shaped exterior that was out of synch with our old world charm.
When I next looked up, I stood in front of the entrance to the chapel. The doors were wide open so I had no trouble crossing over the threshold. The walls of this out-of-context building slanted inwards, and the way they closed in would have given a claustrophobic person the chills. The floor and pews were made of polished, light-colored wood. Soft music played through speakers hidden behind the sixteen-foot burgundy drapes which covered two of the walls. The wall directly ahead of me looked out over a rose garden currently in full bloom.
Someone – probably my mom because despite our differences she still knew me best – had placed lilac tulips on my coffin.
It wasn’t only the sight of my favorite floral arrangement that pulled me up short. It wasn’t only the blast of reality I got that I was attending my own funeral. What sucked the imaginary breath out of my lungs was the rosewood coffin – my coffin – covered in flowers, looking real pretty, yet looking so pathetically small.
No amount of television could have desensitized me to this sight. Panicking, I raced through the glass wall and into the rose garden.
I was startled by a voice behind me. “You were either well-loved or rich. They are usually the two explanations for big crowds.”
I turned to see William amongst the bushes. “Quit stalking me, will you?”
“As you wish, my lady,” he said.
His voice grew soft, and I turned around in time to watch him bow low and fade into the bushes.
“Wait—”
I plunged headfirst into the rose bushes, bursting to apologize for being rude, especially as I reckoned that in eternity I’d need all the friends I could gather.
The sweet perfume of roses should have washed over me. In death, flowers took on the stench of the dirt and the bugs and the insecticide spray. Pretty on the outside. Ugly underneath. For a second it felt as if I was referring to myself.
Chapter Five
The love of my life stepped out of a car I recognized as the one which had driven me under false pretences to Prospect to purchase a pregnancy kit. The car drove off and Leo stood in the parking lot, looking lost and vulnerable. With lightning speed I burst out of the rose garden. Anyone who says that absence makes the heart grow fonder has only experienced half the brutality of absence through loss. I was used to talking to Leo every day. Now I had lost that connection and it ached deep into my bones.
Leo looked dashing in his suit, though his tie was askew and his shirt crumpled. We’d known each other since we were six, yet we’d only been a couple for six months. Every one of those months I’d valiantly tried to get him to wear a suit – in readiness for Prom night/College graduation/wedding ceremony – and every month he’d resisted. He hated them, yet I hated that my death was the event deemed suitable to finally indulge my wishes.
Nothing about the rest of him looked dashing. His face sagged from the dark circles pulling his eyes downward. His flesh appeared opaque, his lips were drooped, and his shoulders were rounded. His skeleton appeared to have been sucked right out of him. When his fingers grappled with the tie around his neck, as if he was choking, I rushed to adjust the knot. My ghostly body fell through his warm one and I ended up on my hands and knees kissing the asphalt.
“No. This isn’t fair.” I bashed my fists into the ground, screaming louder when each sweeping motion connected with nothing.
I continued to lay in a crumpled heap on the road wailing like a banshee even while Leo’s mom, looking regal in a cream coat, shepherded Leo into the chapel. Too late I realized that Audrey was right; coming here was a bad idea.
A car pulled up a few feet in front of me. My mother stepped out of the car. The black dress she wore was one of my favorites. It had sleeves to the elbows and a wrap-around section. I’d not long ago begged her to let me wear the dress to a college open day because I’d wanted to appear sophisticated. Today, the dress hung off my mother’s frame as if she’d used it for the past year as a hammock.
I stood still. Even if I wanted to move, I couldn’t. The buzzing sound, which came from being so close to a living body, attacked me once more, and still I didn’t move. Mostly because I wanted to be this close to my mother. The ache in my bones signaled that I missed my mother more than I realized I would. We’d had our share of arguments, and I’d always hated fighting with Mom, but it seemed especially unfair that I’d robbed her of our mother/daughter fights the moment I’d died.
Watching Mom now, I wanted to tell her a thousand times over how sorry I was for not coming to her earlier with my problems. She of all people could have related to the uncertainty and desperation that had controlled my actions. Even now a sense of desperation controlled them: I knew I should have returned to the cabin and accepted my fate, but how could I when I hadn’t yet done everything possible to unearth the depths of Leo’s love for me.
If anyone had surmised that in death I’d found peace, they’d have been badly mistaken. When a few mourners uttered, “may she rest in peace”, I moved off to the side. There, I watched the crowd of mourners engulf my mom. I watched her zombie eyes stare over their shoulders. Friends and neighbors offered her their sympathies. “We’re so sorry for your loss.” “A parent should never have to bury their child.” “Such a tragedy.” “They ought to fill in those old mine shafts.”
My mom accepted these sentiments with a stone face. I’d have given anything for my mom not to have gone through this ordeal alone. She’d gone through everything else in her life without support – sometimes without mine – and I guessed that had a lot to do with my vow not to follow in her footsteps. It was also a major reason why I’d driven up to the cabin to confront Leo and demand to know the true extent of his love. I hadn’t wanted to raise our child on my own. Yet I was the one who’d walked out on him. The irony didn’t escape me.
The car my mom stepped out of drove off and her body stiffened. A shaking hand flew up to her temple.
Dad came charging through the crowd and placed his hand under her elbow. “You’re doing well, Suzanne,” he said. “I’m here. You can do this. Are you ready?”
The relief that washed over my mom was epic. She no
dded her head, albeit weakly, and let Dad guide her into the chapel, offering the mourners a polite smile along the way.
“Thank goodness you’re here, David,” Mom whispered. “There’s no way I could do this alone.”
“You’ll never be alone again. I promise, this time things will be different.”
Mom leaned her head against his shoulder. “Perhaps getting away from this town is what’s called for. You always did know what was best for me.”
Staring at her as she took her seat at the front of the chapel, I wondered if she’d gone soft in the head. She hated Dad. Besides, how could Dad promise her things would be different this time…when he was married?
I looked around for Mishi, his third wife, but instead I spied Audrey and her mom walking toward me. Audrey’s mom had carried on an hour long conversation with me due to her ability to see ghosts, and I couldn’t risk her glimpsing me now – and not because she may have harbored desires to fulfill the psychic reading she’d robbed me of. I ducked inside the chapel and forced my spirit body into the drapes. After a minute I sighed heavily, regretting once more not heeding Audrey’s warning about coming here. “Love can make you do crazy things, Ruby,” my mother had once said.
Crazy I could deal with; what I was doing was starting to venture into morbidly idiotic.
***
Shanessa, Natalie, and I were in a girl group called Violet Dreamy Youth. Shanessa had an incredible musical talent. She could play practically any instrument…piano, guitar, violin, empty bottle; whatever made a tune could be mastered by Shanessa. Natalie did okay strumming away on acoustic guitars but her instrument of choice was the violin. I used to practice the piano three afternoons a week until studies forced me to cut back to one. When we came together, we rocked. Or, at least we mustn’t have sucked because we got asked to sing each week at the Heavenlea Home.
We’d leapt at the chance to sing in front of anybody when we’d accepted that gig, ignoring the need to understand our audience. We’d turned up and sang songs that we liked and it soon became apparent we needed to learn songs from the era before music was downloadable. Since then, we’d gotten pretty good at understanding our audience.
Little Red Gem Page 6
