Beneath the Elder Tree

by Hazel Black

  ‘Now that you’ve accepted that you don’t have a physical body that can get tired or be damaged, you should be able to take the next step.’

  ‘And that is?’

  ‘Passing through solid objects - like the door in front of us.’

  ‘How is it possible for someone to pass through a solid object?’

  ‘It’s not possible for anyone to pass through a solid object,’ Emily replied with a condescending smile. ‘We can do it because we don’t exist in the same world that the object exists in. Do you understand?’

  ‘No. I have absolutely no idea what the hell is going on here.’

  ‘You’ll get it … eventually. It takes time to recognize the differences between the realities that spirits exist in. Now, the easiest way to do this is to close your eyes and pretend the door isn’t actually there. You can keep your eyes open when you get used to sort of thing.’

  I shut my eyes and gingerly moved forward. I had some sense of the door as I passed into it, but it represented no obstacle. I seeped through it without properly feeling anything. I did, however feel something as I stepped outside. There was a definite chill crawling over me. I opened my eyes to find the entire world appeared different than it had when I was alive. The sky was bright but had little definition, and instead of radiating heat, the sun seemed to emit coldness. The houses, that always seemed to follow straight lines, appeared crooked and fragile. The perspective of everything around me was flawed, like a child’s drawing, and I found it difficult to judge distances properly.

  ‘Come,’ Emily said, taking my hand. ‘Let’s make our way to the centre of town.’

  The grey, blurred shapes of the living people passed us on the pavements, and I found that I could grab some of their thoughts - as if they were being transmitted. They were all so caught up in meaningless dramas like being late for work or being short on money or about how they looked and what others thought of their clothes or hairstyles. It all seemed so foolish to me now.

  ‘Sad, isn’t it?’ Emily said distantly. ‘So very sad.’

  ‘I never realised people got so worked up over the stupid little things that are of no real importance.’

  ‘You never realised it but you were the same up until yesterday. You used to worry endlessly about how others perceived you. You worried about what guys thought of you. You worried about what girls thought of you. You used to worry that people wouldn’t like the songs you wrote. Where you so different to the people you now consider shallow?’

  ‘Maybe you’re right. I guess I was pretty dumb.’

  ‘No dumber than those who influenced you. Society had made you that way. You weren’t to blame.’

  Emily wasn’t the most pleasant girl to talk to, but she did know how to open a person’s mind. I’d already reached a higher level of understanding in the short amount of time we were together, and she said I needed to because I now lived at a higher level of existence. But for all her philosophising and grumpiness, not to mention her deathly appearance and her multi-coloured eyes, she was just a child to my eyes.

  ‘How come a kid like you is so brainy?’ I wondered. ‘Someone your age should know more about cartoons and dolls than different stages of existence.’

  ‘I’m not a child. I died when I was eight years old, and my appearance reflects that age, but I have now lived for just over twenty seven years. I think that qualifies me as an adult.’

  ‘That must be annoying. You know, being an adult and looking like a child.’

  ‘You have a lot to learn, Lucy. Appearances mean little in this world.’

  ‘You said spirits could change the way they look. Why don’t you give yourself a mature makeover?’

  ‘I said spirits who are here a long time can change their appearance. I’ve only been here nineteen years, since you were born, and that’s not enough time for a spirit guide to learn all the tricks of the mirror world.’

  ‘How long does it take?’

  ‘It can take decades for most spirits. Some can-’ She shook her head and her eyes flashed red. ‘I don’t want to talk about this right now. Let’s change the subject.’

  I didn’t press her, even though I knew she was hiding something from me. I was getting a sense that there was a lot more to the mirror world than what she’d told me thus far. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know; the whole notion of being trapped in a parallel universe, or whatever it was, had me scared stiff. I just wanted to go back to my normal life. I wanted to go back to having a life.

  My grim musing was then interrupted. Approaching us was the blurred image of a guy I had a bit of crush on. He was strutting up the pavement towards us and my gaze became hooked on him. I’d watched him in the local nightclub almost every Saturday night for the last year but had never built up the courage to talk to him. I slowed as he passed us and admired him one last time. He was still as alluring as ever.

  ‘Stop that.’ Emily’s eyes flashed red yet again. ‘Let it go.’

  ‘Stop what? I wasn’t doing anything.’

  ‘Why are you denying it? There’s no lying in this world, Lucy. We both know exactly what you were doing and it’s not permitted here.’

  ‘I was just looking at him, Emily.’

  ‘You have to forget about lust and love, Lucy.’

  ‘You’re just jealous because nobody checks you out.’

  ‘Nobody is checking you out either.’

  ‘At least my eyes don’t change colour.’

  ‘Don’t they?’

  ‘Do they?’

  She stopped by a café and pushed me close to the front window so that I could see my reflection. To my astonishment the irises of my eyes were rising from purple to bright orange.

  ‘Why do they change colour like this?’ I wondered, moving my face closer to the glass. ‘Does it serve a purpose?’

  ‘It’s to do with the emotions we feel. Orange, pink and purple reflect levels of tranquillity and curiosity, blue displays sorrow, red betrays anger, white is a representation of fear.’

  I stared at my reflection, purposely dwelling on the bitterness I felt about being dead. The colour of my irises rose from a subtle orange to a blazing red. Being dead was tragic. Being able to change the colour of my eyes was rather wondrous.

  ‘I know it looks cool but try not to concentrate on feelings that make you angry.’

  ‘That won’t be easy. I’m dead, you know. I’m not feeling very good about things at the moment.’

  ‘These emotions will pass in time.’

  I allowed the anger to dissipate and my eyes returned to a more neutral colour. I continued to watch myself for a few moments more, and noticed it wasn’t just my eyes that had changed through death. My body was thinner and my skin seemed to have a sheen that made me look like a waxwork figure. There were deep shadows encompassing my eyes, and my cheeks were sunken. I looked inhuman. At least my long black hair hadn’t thinned out like my limbs had. It meant I retained some of my living appearance.

  ‘How come I can see my reflection if I’m not really here?’

  ‘Because we interact with the world of the living on a basic level. Oh, remember to stay away from flash photography. It’s the only thing that can pick up traces of us. Believe me, you don’t want to spark off any ghost stories or scare some poor tourist half to death when he uploads his holiday snaps to his laptop.’

  ‘So those photographs you see from time to time with smudged faces of people that weren’t there are actually real?’

  ‘Most are clever fakes. Some are genuine. Come on, let’s not waste the remains of the day.’ Emily took my hand again and led me along the street. ‘We have to get some things out of the way before nightfall.’

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘To your au
nt’s house.’

  ‘Hillary’s?’

  ‘You have only one aunt, Lucy.’

  ‘What are we going there for?’

  ‘I want you to see something.’ She gazed up at me with bleached eyes. ‘Lucy, you better prepare yourself because this will not be easy for you.’

  I didn’t like the sound of that at all. She hadn’t been this serious before, even when she told me I was dead. What on earth was in store for me at Hillary’s house?

  * * *

  My aunt lived in a modest two storey house. It was identical to all the other houses on the street. Out front was a manicured lawn. White picket fence. A hatchback and a saloon in the driveway. The very definition of suburban bliss. Or perhaps it was suburban torture. I could never figure out which.

  My pace slowed as we approached. A tower of anxiety was building in me. I could only imagine what my family were going through in the wake of my untimely demise. Only now did I contemplate the feelings of those left behind. This would not be pleasant.

  When we reached the front gates I saw some familiar faces: my uncles William and Peter, and my cousins Adam, Laura and Kate. They looked dreadfully tired and their eyes betrayed how miserable they were feeling. As we got closer I sensed some of their thoughts and realised that none of them wanted to enter the house. They preferred to remain in the fresh air and not in the painful atmosphere inside. I was dreading what was to come next.

  ‘They’re heartbroken,’ I said as we passed them on the garden path. ‘I take it this is because of me?’

  ‘Don’t blame yourself for what they’re going through. It’s not your fault you died.’

  ‘I don’t want to go inside, Emily. I really don’t want to do this right now.’

  ‘You must. You need to learn that sorrow has no place in your new life. It is an emotion that belongs only to the living. It could drive you insane if you allow it to infect you here.’

  ‘Spirits can go crazy?’

  ‘You have no idea, Lucy.’ She was deadly serious when she said it, and her eyes even went opaque momentarily, almost white. ‘When someone goes insane here it can be very, very dangerous. Come on,’ she said, gripping my hand, ‘let’s not delay this.’

  We climbed the steps to the old red brick house and melted through the tall green door. It was gloomy and deathly quiet inside and I was overwhelmed by an air of grief. It instantly drained me and I found it hard to continue along the dim hallway. The anxiety I’d felt outside was rising with every forward step.

  ‘What you’re feeling is perfectly natural.’ Emily put her arm around my waist and together we edged forward. ‘Negative emotions can eat up a lot of the energy that spirits use for strength. It’s best to avoid such situations. On this occasion, however, it is necessary for you to endure this to properly understand how you have changed.’

  I’d been to the house hundreds of times throughout my life and knew the family always gathered in the sitting room when faced with a dilemma or a tragedy. It was an old tradition. The house first belonged to my grandparents and whenever there was an accident or an illness or a death in the family, they would call everyone in the extended family to that room to discuss what was to be done. After my grandparents died, the house was passed to Hilary and she carried on the custom. It had been like this when my aunt’s husband died two years earlier. It had been a horrible experience. He had suffered with disease for many years and we all knew he would ultimately succumb to it. This would be far worse. I was young and full of life. No one would have believed that I could die at such a tender age.

  I walked ahead of Emily and into the room to see my mother and father sitting by the window overlooking the back garden. Hillary and her son Brian, who was a couple of years older than me, were slumped on the couch and uncle Peter entered the room just after me and took a seat by the coffee table.

  They were discussing the funeral arrangements and there was to be some sort of celebration of my life that would involve my closest friends. I didn’t really focus on what they were talking about. I simply stood in the centre of the room and sensed the emotional turmoil that each of them was enduring. It was like an invisible storm that whipped me from all sides. The atmosphere was sucking the life right out of me.

  The strongest emotions came from my parents - my mother in particular. I could tell she wanted to die right then and there. She felt as if her life no longer had any purpose now I was gone. It weighed heavily on my absent heart to see her so upset and suffering such desperation. She was such a good person. She had been such a good mother and friend. She didn’t deserve this. I watched her nodding as Hilary made suggestions. She wasn’t even listening. Her mind was travelling through a thousand memories that I shared with her. My life had given her so much joy. My death had turned every happy memory into an emotional punishment.

  Dad felt as if he’d failed me. He blamed himself that he wasn’t there to prevent my death. He blamed himself for not being around enough in recent years. He was sorry that he’d laughed when I told him I wanted to be a musician. There was something inside him that was broken and would probably never be repaired.

  They were both tortured by one memory in particular. I’d moved out of the family home seven months earlier and rented the apartment on the opposite side of Hampton. They were so worried about me getting involved with the wrong guy, or getting pregnant, or both. Little did they know that another girl would be the person they would argue with me about. I usually went for guys, but had a casual taste for girls from time to time. It wasn’t something I indulged too often. Moving away from my parents gave me a new sense of freedom and allowed me to experiment a little more. I’d sparked up a friendship with a girl I’d met at a gig. We spent time together. We were admirers of each other’s beauty more than lovers, and never shared more than a an innocent kiss. It was a shame that my parents had witnessed that kiss outside a bar one night. My mother hardly spoke to me for three months after that - despite my casual relationship ending two weeks after the incident at the bar. Dad had come round quicker. He loved me too much to stay away.

  ‘Stop dwelling on that memory.’ Emily said sharply. ‘It’s draining you.’

  ‘Oh, you didn’t approve either?’

  ‘Physical acts mean little to spirits. I never cared about your sexuality. It was just a nuisance that you could never make up your damned mind.’

  My mother suddenly burst into tears and moaned into her hands. Dad wrapped his arms around her and said it would be all right. He did a great job of lying.

  ‘Try your best to remain calm,’ Emily said, severing my concentration. Her luminous gaze skipped from one family member to the next. ‘It’s easy to get drawn into the sorrow they are experiencing.’

  ‘This isn’t right,’ I told her. ‘They shouldn’t have to suffer like this. I’m right here beside them and if they knew that they wouldn’t be going through this agony.’

  ‘Death is a part of life, Lucy.’

  ‘It’s wrong.’

  I instinctively reached out to my mother. I wanted to touch her hand, hoping she would know I wasn’t completely gone. I needed her to understand that I didn’t simply cease to exist. I knew if I could touch her and concentrate hard enough she would know I was there with her in some capacity. I simply had to give her some measure of comfort in this darkest of hours.

  ‘Don’t,’ Emily pleaded. ‘It’s forbidden.’

  ‘Is everything forbidden in this place?’ I spun around and stared down at her. ‘We’re not allowed to do anything. I have to stand here watching my family going through this hell and I can’t even let them know that I’m here.’

  ‘You have to realise that your old life is over,’ Emily replied evenly. ‘Your time with your family and friends is also over. You have already had that time and it is now a thing of the pas
t.’

  ‘She shouldn’t be going through this,’ I said, turning back to examine my mother’s distraught expression. ‘I just want to let her know that I’m still around.’

  ‘And your clumsy attempts to communicate with her will increase her misery. She’ll think she’s going crazy - others will too. She might even think she’s being haunted or possessed which could completely shatter her already fragile state of mind. Even if you did convince her and your father that you were still around and could interact with them, what good would come of it? You’d only want to stay with them and you would torment yourself because you would never truly be a part of their lives again. You’d be watching them from a distance and would be consumed by sorrow. It would drive you insane. Lucy, you must realise, right now, that you are not here to reveal to the living that there is life after death. That is not why you were brought here.’

  ‘What am I here for?’

  ‘I expected that after your death we would both pass into the world beyond. The fact that you’re here in the mirror world can only mean one thing: You have been selected to be a spirit guide for someone in the living world.’

  ‘That means I’ll be trapped here for years,’ I exclaimed, ‘decades even. This is like a prison sentence. What have I done to deserve this?’

  ‘It’s not all bad.’

  ‘Isn’t it? It’s grey and boring and lonely. I’m standing here looking at my family crying and now you’re telling me I have to stay in this bleak world for an entire lifetime. It isn’t fair.’

  ‘Life’s not fair,’ Emily scoffed, ‘but we can make life a little more bearable in times of darkness.’

  ‘What are you talking about now?’

  Emily didn’t answer me. Her focus instead turned to my mother and she crossed the room and sat beside her. She raised one hand and her fingertips began to glow brightly before streams of miniscule orbs appeared around her fingers. The little circles of light merged to form a pulsing ball of energy.