The Middle Realm

by Alessia Mattei

  “Hi, I’m Whitney. What’s your name?” the ghost asked.

  This young ghost was a flapper from the 1920s. She had the dress and the bob haircut. I wondered what she was doing here, but I did not have time to ask questions.

  “Right now is not a good time for introductions. My friend’s purse was stolen and I’m trying to get it back,” I told her.

  “Did the guy have on black pants and a green shirt? Was the purse he took a big charcoal grey Chanel bag?” she asked.

  “Yeah, why?” I asked.

  “Because he’s over there,” she said pointing to a man talking on a cell phone. I didn’t see the purse, because he must have stuffed it into the brown duffel bag he was carrying. He also must have hid a hat and sunglasses in the bag, too.

  “Are you sure it’s him?” I asked.

  “Yes, it’s him. I saw him stuff the purse into the gym bag. Do you not trust me? I swear I’m telling the truth. I wouldn’t lie,” she said. I thought she was going to cry.

  “Yes, I trust you. Will you help me somehow stop him before he gets away?” I asked Whitney.

  “Okay. Do you know where we can get some rope, matches and an axe?” she asked.

  I honestly didn’t know how to respond to that. I saw Emma running up the street. I wonder how she knew where to go? Maybe she could see all ghosts, not just me. Maybe Edgar and Camille told her where to go? I would have to wait to find out. I started calling out to her. She ran toward me. The man took off again He ran into the street as soon as he saw Emma and the police. He was running along a row of cars parked parallel to the street. Whitney knew the path the thief would take, so she went into a parked car. As soon as he went buy, she opened the door and knocked him to the ground. Emma and I ran up to him. He was knocked out. Whitney really used all her strength. I thought the door would come off its handle.

  “Wow! Thanks, Whitney. You stopped him.” I said to her.

  “Did I break the car? I didn’t mean to open it so hard. Sometimes I forget how strong I am. Is the car okay? No humans saw, did they? Oh, my goodness, the spirit guards are going to come after me,” she said. She was scared. She was shaking like a Chihuahua.

  “Whitney, relax. You didn’t do anything wrong. The spirit guards aren’t going to take you away. You stopped the thief from getting away with the purse. You’re a hero,” Edgar said.

  “I am a hero? So I didn’t do anything wrong?” Whitney asked.

  “No, you did nothing wrong, Whitney. You should be proud of yourself,” Camille said.

  “Oh, good,” Whitney said with a sigh of relief.

  Poor Whitney finally stopped shaking and calmed down. Poor thing. I wondered what happened to her when she was alive that caused her to always be in fear that she had done something wrong. I knew it was not polite to ask another spirit about their life, so hopefully if I got to know her she’d tell me. Until then, it was none of my concern. As we were watching all that was happening with the thief and the police, a spirit guard appeared.

  “Good afternoon. Is everything here okay?” he asked.

  The spirit guard was dressed in all black. He had on a military-style jacket and a hat. He looked like he stepped off a Civil War battlefield. He carried a gun. I was not sure if it actually worked or if it was just for show. All I knew was that this spirit guard was intimidating. He must have been a soldier when he was alive because of the way he carried himself.

  “Yes, sir, everything here is fine. No spirits have been seen by any humans,” Edgar said.

  “Good. Let’s make sure we keep it that way,” he said.

  Emma saw me. She had her purse back. She mouthed the words “Thank you” to me. I thought I was the only one who saw. Apparently not. Guess who else saw?

  “Did that woman just mouth something to you?” the spirit guard asked me.

  “No,” I lied.

  “Young lady, are you telling me the truth?” he asked.

  “I am. Look at all the people around here. She was probably directing it to one of them. She has no clue that we helped her get her purse back. She was probably thanking the men who ran after the thief,” I lied again. I hoped I was convincing enough. If I had a heartbeat, I’m sure it would have been racing right then.

  “Fine, I’ll believe you this time. You seem to be a young spirit. You be careful around the living. All it takes is for one of them to catch a sight of you. You need to be careful. If you’re foolish, we will find you and reprimand you. You,” he pointed to Edgar, Camille and Whitney, “had better make sure she doesn’t do anything foolish. If she gets into trouble, you will be as well.” He disappeared into thin air.

  “That was close,” Camille said.

  “I know,” I said back.

  “Can that girl see us?” asked a scared Whitney, aloud. Her eyes were wide and she was shaking again. Her state of calm didn’t last very long.

  “No, she can’t see you,” I lied, again. Yeah, I still don’t know if Emma can see ghosts other than me. I had a feeling she could, though. I just knew it.

  “Oh, good,” exclaimed Whitney.

  “Well that’s a relief,” Edgar said.

  They all seemed relieved thinking that Emma couldn’t see them. I knew Emma could see me. I just didn’t know if she could see other ghosts as well. I’d been meaning to ask her, but I hadn’t gotten around to it.

  “If Emma could see ghosts, why would that be so bad?” I asked the three ghosts in front of me.

  “Because she can tell the living that we do exist. They already think they have clues that we do exist. If she could convince others that ghosts really are real, it would be even more dangerous for us to walk the earth. They already have what they believe is concrete evidence. We’re afraid it will only get worse. We already have to be careful of the supposed ‘ghost hunters.’ There are few people who can see ghosts. There is only a handful around the world,” Edgar said.

  Could Emma be one of those few people? If so, I knew Emma was a freak, but I never knew she was this much of a freak.

  “Guys, I have to go,” I said.

  “Stay safe Savannah,” Edgar told me.

  Ch. 21

  Emma must have gone back to the hotel after what happened. I really had to talk to her. I made my way back. I found Emma sitting on the bed going through the purse making sure that everything that was in it before was still there. She stopped when she saw me.

  “Hey, Savannah. Thank you so much for helping me track down the man who took my purse. If it wasn’t for you I never would have gotten it back,” she said. She only mentioned me. That’s weird.

  “About that, you didn’t see any other ghosts, did you?” I asked.

  “No, I only saw you,” she said.

  "Are you sure? You only saw me?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “Why are you so worried? If there are other ghosts, they’re not the ones I have to worry about. It’s the living who are much more dangerous,” Emma said.

  She had a point. Most of the ghosts wandering the earth were just lost, bored or lonely. They didn’t want to hurt anyone. There was always the exception to every rule. I’m sure that there probably were some who were out for revenge. It seemed that most of them were harmless, even the ones who loved to annoy the living, they would never hurt anyone. They just liked to have fun is all.

  “You have to be careful,” I said.

  “Okay. Savannah, we’re going home tomorrow. We’ll be there a few weeks. I talked to the people at the airline and they’ve arranged everything so that we can take the body home. I talked to your parents and they said my parents have already started making funeral arrangements,” Emma said.

  “All right. I’m scared about going home,” I said.

  “You’re scared?” Emma asked me.

  “You’re right,” I said. “I’m not the one who has to pretend to be someone else. You’ll do fine. I’ll be there with you. I’ll tell you what you need to do. I think we can pull this off. I hope we can.”

  “I ho
pe so too” Emma said.

  The whole Emma-pretending-to-be-me plan had to work. If it didn’t, we were screwed. Actually, Emma would be screwed, not me. She could go to jail. Poor Emma would not survive in jail. I couldn’t stress to her enough how important it was that she not screw this up. As long as I was there to guide her along, she should be okay. I hope. Okay, I was starting to stress out a little. I was so worried. One little slip-up would give her away. I was dreading seeing my home again. It was hard being there after I died. Now I would have to be there for a couple weeks helping Emma. Being at home and knowing that I wouldn’t be living there with my family anymore was a tough pill to swallow. I just knew I’d be jealous and treat Emma a little too harshly. It was just so hard seeing someone else living your life for you. I knew that was what I wanted, but that didn’t make it any easier. Tomorrow I was going home. I was looking forward to it and dreading it at the same time.

  “I’m hungry. I think I’m going to go down to the hotel’s restaurant,” Emma said. “I don’t know what you want to do while I’m gone. You could just take a walk or something.”

  She was just not going to admit whether she saw the other ghosts. I just couldn’t get myself to ask her. For some reason, I was afraid to ask. I didn’t know why. It was not like she could hurt me. I would just have to find the best way to approach the subject because flat out asking was not the best idea.

  “I’ll find something to do. Don’t worry about me,” I said.

  “You need to be back here at five tomorrow morning. I need you. You can’t be late,” she said.

  “All right. Five-tomorrow morning. Got it. I’ll see you then. Bye, Emma. Enjoy dinner,” I said to her before I floated out the French doors.

  Ch. 22

  I floated down to earth and started walking down the sidewalk. I had the rest of the evening and all of tonight to myself. I should enjoy it while it lasted. I looked around for Edgar, Camille and Whitney. After walking for a little bit, I heard Camille’s familiar giggling. I followed the laughter until I found the three ghosts.

  “Well, look who decided to come and find us. Hello, Savannah,” Edgar said.

  “Hi, Edgar, Camille, Whitney,” I said.

  “Savannah, we were hoping you would come find us,” Camille said once she regained composure.

  “Camille, what were you laughing about this time?” I asked.

  “Nothing” she said, trying to suppress her laughter.

  “Yeah, like I believe you,” I said to her. “Now, come on! Spill!”

  Camille just smiled. It was one of those smug smiles. She definitely looked like the cat that swallowed the canary.

  “Camille, it’s not who I think it is?” I asked her. “It’s not the man from Idaho, is it?”

  She just continued smiling. I knew it. I could read it on her face. I gave her a stern look and the smile vanished. She knew she was in the wrong.

  “Okay, fine. It was the little man from Idaho. Edgar shut him out of his room. He was on the balcony reading and Edgar slammed the balcony door and it locked. The little man thought it was the wind. The fire department had to get him down.” Camille said, bursting into a fit of giggles. Whitney stood next to her and just shook her head. She seemed to disapprove of her friends’ idea of fun.

  “Camille, leave the man alone. You got him several times already. Give him a break,” I told her.

  “Edgar’s bothering him too,” she said pointing to Edgar.

  “You should have seen the look on his face when the door wouldn’t open. He had to call to the people on the balcony next door,” Edgar said. They were both laughing by now.

  “You guys, it’s not funny. You’ve probably traumatized the poor man. Is it really worth it to have fun at another’s expense?” Whitney asked.

  “Yes,” Camille said, laughing again.

  Whitney rolled her eyes. She didn’t seem to care for messing around with the living. I was with her on this one. Just because they couldn’t see us did not mean that we had a free pass to terrorize them whenever we wanted. It would be nice to get revenge on someone who treated you horribly while you were still alive. There were a few people I would have loved to mess with. No, Emma was not one of them. She could see and hear me, so it would be a little hard to do anything to her, anyway. Besides, she was abused enough in high school. I wouldn’t have the heart do it. I just didn’t think I would ever want to mess around with people. I know I wouldn’t be happy if I got locked outside my house or had a chair pulled out from under me as I went to sit down with a hot cup of coffee. It just didn’t appeal to me.

  Even when I was alive, I didn’t play too many jokes on people. When I did, it was always on people I knew really well who wouldn’t get super mad. I remember one time I completely covered my dad’s Mercedes-Benz in Post-Its. I used the bright neon-colored ones and made a really cool design. After seeing it done on YouTube, I had to try it. I had done it in the middle of the night while everyone was asleep. The next morning my dad woke up late. He didn’t really have time to say anything about it, so he cleared the windows and took off. It began pouring as soon as he pulled out of the driveway. When he got home, I spent the next two and half hours pulling wet Post-Its off his car. He was mad but got over it quickly. I couldn’t imagine pulling pranks on people I didn’t know. I had never messed around with people when I was alive and I was not starting now.

  “I don’t think I ever really introduced myself. I’m Savannah Montgomery,” I said to Whitney.

  “I’m Whitney. I can’t seem to remember my last name, I’m sorry. I can’t really remember much of anything from when I was alive,” she said.

  Some spirits were able to remember their lives perfectly. They could remember their addresses of past residences and those who lived after telephones were invented could remember phone numbers. Some were even able to recall their first day of school. Others either forgot because they have been dead so long or they chose to forget. I think that with Whitney it was the latter. She only died in the 1920s, so she probably could remember quite a bit of her life. She just chose not to.

  “It’s okay,” I told her.

  “Your name is really pretty,” she said to me. “I wish I had a pretty name”

  “Whitney, your name is beautiful, just like the rest of you,” Camille told her. It looked like she finally calmed down. I really hoped Camille was done laughing now.

  “How about we do something? I’m feeling rather bored. I could really use a change of scenery,” Edgar said. He was leaning against a building watching a blonde woman with large breasts crossing the street. She had on an extremely low-cut top and the tightest jeans I’ve ever seen. She was laden with shopping bags. With all those bags and her massive bosom, it’s amazing she was able to remain upright at all. Edgar continued to watch her until she was out of sight. There were some things that never changed. Just because he was dead didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the sight of a beautiful woman. Camille was not pleased with Edgar.

  “Could you please refrain from staring at other women when you’re with me? It makes me feel inadequate, like I’m not good enough for you,” Camille said to him.

  “My dear Camille, you know that is not true. You know that I love you and only you. That will never change. It’s just that when I see a beautiful woman, I can’t help but stare. I’m a man, after all. You can’t expect me to ignore the sight of a beautiful woman just because I’m dead. You understand right?” Edgar said. “Besides, I have no chance with her whatsoever, so you needn’t worry.” He then kissed her. She threw her arms around his neck. Everything in the world of Edgar and Camille was right again.

  “So Edgar, does this mean that Camille can stare at other men, living and nonliving?” Whitney asked.

  “Absolutely not,” he said. Camille stepped away from him. He knew he had said something wrong.

  “Edgar, you don’t have double standards, do you?” I asked.

  “No I do not. It’s not proper for a young woman to stare at another
man when she is already with the man she has pledged her heart to,” he said staring at Camille. She had her back to him and her arms folded in front of her.

  “Technically, you do. You think it’s okay for a man who is already in a relationship to stare at other women, but you think it’s wrong for a woman in a relationship to stare at other men. That is such a 19th century mindset. Edgar, we’re not in the 1800s anymore. This is the 21st century. Camille can stare at other men if she wants. She’s not going to go behind your back and cheat on you. Like you said, if it’s men who are still alive she’s staring at, then you have nothing to worry about,” Whitney said.

  “Edgar, she’s right. You need to get with the times. You can’t stay stuck in one time period. The world is changing and you’re going to have to change with it,” I said.

  Maybe I should have stayed out of it. This was between Edgar and Whitney after all. I should have just kept my two cents to myself. Besides, it probably didn’t matter what I said since I was the youngest in spirit years.

  “That’s easy for you to say. You’ve only been dead a short period of time. You have no clue what it’s like. It’s not as easy as you think. When the world is constantly changing, it’s hard to keep up. We’re not alive anymore, so what’s the point of trying to catch up with the changing times. It’s just easier to stick with the beliefs and values we knew when we were still alive,” Edgar said.

  “Well, you have to try. I’ve abandoned all my 1920s beliefs and values and have adopted today’s values and beliefs. It wasn’t easy, but I did it,” Whitney said proudly.

  “Oh, don’t give me that ‘I’m changing with the times.’ You are such a fake. You’re still stuck in Prohibition-era America. When you see people drinking, you always comment on how wrong it is. You act so pious. I bet you knew the location of every speakeasy in Chicago,” Edgar said.

  Oh, burn. That was a little harsh. I wouldn’t take sides because I didn’t know Edgar or Whitney well enough yet. I just remained neutral. It was the safest side.