The Middle Realm

by Alessia Mattei

  She glanced at me skeptically, as if to say ‘what the hell could be worse than having to see and listen to ghosts all day long’. She then shot back with a rapid-fire response that was so totally Emma.

  “I’ll take ‘Things worse than ghosts’ for 500, please,” Emma said.

  I thought about it for a minute and then I came up with something far worse, far more irritating than the most restless of spirits.

  “Fist pumping your way through life; Seaside Heights, we have a Situation; GTL or bust” I said.

  “Who is the cast of Jersey Shore?” Emma asked.

  “Correct,” I said.

  “Fine, there is something worse than ghosts. Give me a ghost over a Guido any day,” Emma said, “but still ghosts can be quite a nuisance some times”

  “I’m not a nuisance, am I?” I asked.

  “No, I enjoy having you around. You’re my best friend, remember?” Emma said, “Some spirits are just so desperate for help they just don’t know when to lay off. I always feel bad when they ask me for help and I know I can’t do anything for them,” Emma said.

  We were now pulling into the mall parking lot. There weren’t many cars, seeing how it was late morning on a weekday. Emma is able to park close.

  “Because you’re still alive, it’s hard for you to understand what we’re going through,” I said.

  “You’re right,” Emma said.

  Emma unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the driver’s side door. I slid through the door and walked around the car to her. We walked side-by-side into the mall. Being out during the day is dangerous for me, but Emma needs me. Hopefully there will be no other people who can see ghosts. We made are way through the mall. Once we got to Saks I directed Emma toward the dress department. We looked through the dresses. It was hard to find anything appropriate for a funeral. Everything was so colorful, tight, short and low cut. We found some that would have worked had they been a few inches longer. We were about to give up when Emma came across a black Diane von Furstenberg wrap dress.

  “Emma, that looks like it would work,” I said.

  The length is right, it didn’t look low cut and it had long sleeves. As long as it isn’t super tight, it would work. Did I mention it is Emma’s size? It is perfect, as far as dresses go. It’s as if the dress had been waiting for us. Emma held it up and examined it. When she looked at the price tag, she made a face.

  “Emma, don’t worry. You can afford it. I want you to try it on. As for shoes, I think my black leather Brian Atwood pumps will work just fine,” I said. As I was talking to her, I could see that she was focusing on something behind me. I turned around to see what she saw. Walking toward me was Patrick. He looked worried. It didn’t take him long to get to me.

  “Patrick. Is everything okay? You have a worried, freaked out look on your face,” I said to him.

  “Apparently I have a grandson who was in a skateboarding accident yesterday and is currently in the ICU. His time on earth is coming to an end and I have to be there when his soul crosses over,” Patrick said.

  Yeah, I was not expecting this. Patrick never mentioned anything about his surviving family.

  “You didn’t know you had a grandson?” I asked.

  “You mean grandsons, as in more than one. No, I haven’t seen any of my family since I died. I never went to see what they were up to. I couldn’t get myself to do it,” he said.

  “So this will be the first time you’ve ever seen him?” I asked.

  “Yeah, it will be the first time I’ve ever seen any of my grandkids. That sounds so weird to say. Come to think if it, it will be the first time I’ve seen my wife and daughter since, you know,” he said, as he walked to a table holding evening bags and wraps and sat down. I knew what he meant. I sat down next to him. I didn’t know what to say. What do you say to someone who just found out that one of their grandsons, who they didn’t know existed, is about to die? ‘I’m sorry’ certainly won’t cut it. As I tried to think of something to say to Patrick, Emma pretended to look at dresses. I felt so bad for Patrick. The first time he gets to see his grandson and he’ll be hooked up to all sorts of machines. I don’t think it could get worse than that.

  “So how old is he?” I asked.

  “The angel that told me about him said he’s eighteen,” Patrick said, “He was the youngest of three boys” Patrick then paused, “or do I say he is the youngest of three boys. He’s not dead yet,”

  Ouch. Eighteen? The poor kid’s life was just beginning. I shrugged my shoulders in response to Patrick’s question. Did it really matter at this point?

  “I am so sorry,” I said, “Is they’re anything I can do?” I asked.

  “Could you come with me and be there when he crosses over?” Patrick asked.

  I couldn’t say no. I was alone when I crossed over and it was scary. No one should have to face death alone. Patrick’s grandson may only know of his grandfather through pictures and stories, but at least he will find a familiar face. It’s more than I could say for myself. Patrick’s grandson is young and his death is unexpected. He’s probably scared as it is.

  “Yes, I’ll go with you. Crossing over is scary,” I said.

  “Thank you so much. If it’s okay with you’re friend, can we go to the hospital right now. It’s in Michigan. That’s where most of my family still lives, so I’ve been told,”

  “Yeah, I’ll tell Emma, then we can get going,” I said.

  I walked over to Emma who is still looking through dresses. I told her where we were going. She gave a slight nod. I told her I’d see her soon and that I would be at the viewing tomorrow night and the funeral the day after that. I didn’t know how long we would be away. She trusted me and knew I would not go back on my promise. I walked over to where Patrick is sitting. He got up and we walked in the direction of the glass doors. We walked in silence. Patrick didn’t mind the silence this time. I just left him alone with his thoughts. If he wanted to talk, fine. If not, then I won’t say a word. After, we slid through the glass doors and into the parking lot. I saw a portal. I saw other spirits using it.

  “You know where we’re going, right?” Patrick asked. It is the first time he spoke after telling me the bad news.

  “Troy, Michigan?”

  “You got it,” Patrick said.

  Together we stepped into the portal. A few minutes later, we were at our destination. It was really nice. I don’t know if this is where Patrick grew up or if it just happens to be where his family lives now. I decided to ask him. Now the silence is getting kind of uncomfortable.

  “Patrick, did you grow up here or is it where most of your family lives?” I asked.

  “No, I grew up in Grosse Pointe, Michigan. Most of the family moved here. Why, I don’t know?” he said.

  “Well, it’s really pretty,”

  “Yeah, it is nice. I wouldn’t have minded living here. It looks like a nice place to raise a family,” Patrick said looking around.

  We started walking until we found the hospital. We were about to go in until Patrick stopped right in front of the door. It is as if he had walked into an invisible wall. I’m not about to force him to do anything he isn’t ready to do.

  “Are you going to be okay?” I asked.

  “Just give me a few minutes to gather myself together,” he said.

  I stood next to him. We stood there over an hour. This is not going to be easy. Patrick really is not prepared for this. All around us were people coming and going. Many people going in had flowers, balloons and stuffed animals. Those people often came out smiling and talking about how good their friend or loved ones looked. They talked about parties they would throw when their friend is released or how much a baby looked like the father. Then there were others who went in with panicked, worried looks. They often came out with tear-streaked faces. Often they would break down the instant they left the hospital.

  “I’m ready,” he said.

  With that, we floated through the glass doors into the hospital. Patri
ck walked ahead of me and went up to the information desk. Sitting behind it is a middle-aged woman filling out paper work. He started knocking things off the desk until he found what he was looking for. All the stacks of paper and other office supplies falling to the floor puzzled the woman. She blamed it on her own klutziness. Once Patrick found what he was looking for, he called to me to follow him.

  “Did you really have to knock all that stuff onto the floor? I know you’re upset, but don’t take it out on others,” I said.

  “You’re right, that was rude,” Patrick said.

  We floated up to the ICU. It was depressing. We passed some other sprits along the way. Patrick then went to the information desk to find out the room his grandson is in. He didn’t knock stuff down this time. Once he got the room and bed number he started running. I was able to catch up to him in no time. I noticed this time that he had his gun and knapsack with him. I wonder why he had that stuff. When we made it to the room, he stopped. He listened quietly. His eyes were closed, taking in voices he hadn’t heard in over sixty years.

  “I think I’m ready now,” he said.

  Ch. 41

  Arm-in-arm, we walked into the room. All around us were people huddled together, holding one another as they cried over the impending departure of a loved one. The beeping of various machines reverberated off the walls. The blinds on the window were thrown open to let the bright late morning sun in. Patrick walked up to an elderly woman in a chair by the window. In her lap is a box of tissues and a rosary. Her hair is gray and pulled back into a bun. She had on all sorts of jewelry that glistened in the sunlight. I noticed she had a gold chain around her neck with a gold wedding band on it. I knew immediately who this is. Patrick went up to her and stroked her cheek. He then walked to the bed. On either side were chairs. Griffin’s parents were holding his hands. Patrick walked over to his daughter and kissed her on the forehead. I stood behind Patrick until he motioned to me to come stand next to him. I looked down and saw Griffin, motionless with wires crisscrossing his body. He looked just like Patrick. I saw his older brothers standing at the foot of the bed. They had not inherited their maternal grandfather’s looks, but they were still quite handsome, nonetheless.

  “Wow, he looks just like you,” I said.

  “He does. I’m glad to see that one of them took after me,” Patrick said proudly.

  Just then an angel appeared. He turned to Patrick.

  “It’s time,” he said. Just as the angel said this, a nurse and doctor walked into the room. They went up to Griffin’s parents. Griffin’s parents and the doctor talked. I don’t know what they said. All I could do is look at the young man whose life is now coming to an end. The nurse switched off the machine that was keeping Griffin alive. The beeping ceased within a few minutes. Everyone in the room was crying. Griffin’s mother was now on the floor. Her legs had given beneath her. I couldn’t be in here any longer. I was about to leave. Then all at once, Griffin’s spirit, or is it soul, sat up from his body. He looked around, than swung his legs so that they were dangling off the bed. He noticed Patrick and me immediately.

  “Grandpa Patrick?” Griffin said.

  “You know who I am?” Patrick asked, surprised.

  “Yeah. Grandma and mom always made sure that Noah, Logan and I always knew about our War Hero grandfather. Grandma kept your purple heart, a picture of you in your uniform and your flag, along with a dozen red roses on the mantle,” Griffin said.

  I walked back to where Patrick is standing at the side of the bed. I grabbed his hand and held it. Patrick is surprised that anyone would remember him. I don’t know why he would be shocked. From the way Griffin talked, I gathered that his family really cared about Patrick and would not forget about him. The next thing Griffin told his grandfather almost had me crying.

  “Did you know that grandma always sets a place for you at the table? On the holidays and special occasions there is a place setting with your name and a single red rose. My mom says she has been doing it for years. She said you may be gone, but you will never be forgotten,” Griffin said.

  Patrick went up to his grandson and wrapped his arms around him. Griffin held on to his grandfather tightly. The angel and I stood and watched. After a few minutes they let go of one another and the harsh reality of what had just happened finally came crashing down on Griffin.

  “Since I can see you, I’m probably dead, right?” Griffin asked Patrick.

  “Yeah, I’m sorry,” Patrick, said.

  “Well, on the bright side, I didn’t die a virgin,” Griffin responded.

  We all laughed at that. Some people always try to find the bright side of even the darkest of situations. It’s nice to see Griffin is one of those people. He got up off the bed and walked to his guardian angel. Patrick and I hadn’t even noticed he was still in the room. Griffin held out his hand and the angel took it. They gave each other one of those guy hugs; you know the one armed hugs.

  “Thanks for all you did, man. I’m sure it wasn’t fun keeping me safe all the time,” Griffin said.

  “It was a pleasure to be your guardian angel. It was a challenge at times, but, man, it was blast. You kept me on my game, what with all the close calls you had over the years. I’m just sorry it had to end this way,” the angel said.

  Griffin shrugged, “what can you do?” He said, “You won’t forget me will you?”

  “You, never. We’ll see each other again, for sure,” the angel said. Before he left, Griffin and the angel fist bumped each other. After that, the angel was gone. Patrick, Griffin and I walked out into the hall. Griffin walked with his hands in his pockets. He just stared at the ground as we walked the floors of the ICU.

  “Griffin, you’re really quiet. I’m not going to ask if you’re okay, but I would like to know how you’re feeling because you have just been through a lot,” Patrick said.

  “I’m just thinking. This is not what I was expecting, not that I actually think about death. I thought when you died you see a bright light and you’re drawn to it,” Griffin said.

  “That’s what they say when you’re alive. No one has ever died and come back to say what really happens,” Patrick said.

  “So they just assume what happens?” Griffin asked.

  “Exactly,” Patrick said.

  Just then, as we were walking, a woman pushing a man in a wheel chair went right through us. Griffin stopped. I remember doing the same thing the first time someone walked through me. Lucky for Griffin, he has someone to tell him not to worry. That the living, well most of the living, don’t know that spirits are walking among them.

  “Whoa. That is weird,” Griffin said.

  “You’ll get used to it,” Patrick said, “By the way, we are going to Savannah’s house now. I’m sorry I forgot to formally introduce you two. Savannah, this is my grandson Griffin. Griffin, this is Savannah,”

  I shook Griffin’s hand. I was disappointed Patrick didn’t introduce me as his girlfriend. Maybe it’s too early on in our relationship? Or maybe he wasn’t ready to spring it on his grandson yet? That’s probably it. It’s too soon. I’m just going to keep telling myself that.

  “Way to go, grandpa. She is hot!” Griffin said, after looking me over up and down.

  “That is somewhat inappropriate, but I’ll let it slide this time,” Patrick said, “ Griffin, there’s something I need to talk to you about. I know that you’re whole life you’ve referred to me as ‘grandpa’, but do you think you could just call me Patrick? It’s just that we look more like brothers than grandfather and grandson. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with being called grandpa, but I would rather you call me by my name” Patrick said.

  Wow, Patrick, wow. Am I surprised or what? He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would ask his grandson not to call him ‘grandpa’. Actually, it’s kind of funny. I think it’s hilarious that Patrick does not want to be called grandpa. It may cramp his style. I guess we’re all vain to a degree.

  “Oh, so you don’t like th
e image others have in their head when they hear you being called ‘grandpa’?” Griffin asked.

  “Yes,” Patrick said, somewhat guiltily.

  “Sure, no problem, gramps” Griffin paused, “I mean Patrick. Man, that will take some getting used to”

  I stayed quiet and let Patrick and Griffin get to know one another. Watching them together, you would think they’d known one another their entire lives. As we walked Patrick filled Griffin in on ghost etiquette and all that stuff. Griffin filled Patrick in on their family they left behind. It turns out that Griffin been at the top of his class. He was a high school senior who was accepted to Michigan State University. He wanted to major in psychology. Patrick is proud Griffin was accepted to MSU. Like Patrick, Griffin had a love of animals. He had dogs, cats, birds, reptiles and fish. I’m sure he’ll be happy to know that he can still enjoy the company of animals. Griffin also loved music, skateboarding, snowboarding, movies and hockey. Actually, I shouldn’t say loved. He still does love all that stuff. I need to remember that death is not ending. It’s a continuation.

  We finally walked out the door of the hospital. Patrick and I started looking for a portal. Griffin looked at us weird. Then he began to look for the same thing we were looking for, even though he has no idea what that thing is.

  “Griffin, you have no idea what we’re looking for do you?” Patrick asked.

  “No,” Griffin said.

  “Then why were you trying to help?” Patrick asked.

  “I don’t want to look like the one who has no clue what the hell is going on. There’s always that one guy who is clueless as to what’s happening and I don’t want to be that guy,” Griffin said.

  That seemed fair enough to me. Patrick agreed. He told Griffin about portals and how they work. Of course Griffin thought the concept of using portals to get around is ‘absolutely epic’, his words not mine. He had no problem going through the portal. Once we stepped through, we were back in Connecticut. Griffin had never been to Connecticut before, so he was excited.