The Ghostess and Mister Muir

by J. L. Salter

  “Father changed it.” Her bottom lip poked forward slightly. “He said it was beneath our standing for me to work.”

  “You would have helped other people. I bet you’d have made a wonderful nurse.”

  Her face warmed again. “Your compliments continue to catch me off guard, sir.”

  “Why?”

  She could not think of a proper reply.

  “Your voice sounds like you’ve been lonely, Danielle.”

  “I believe the same could be said of you, Mr. Muir.” She studied his face. “However, in your case, there appears to be something else I do not recognize… some other hurt as well.”

  After a long pause, Muir nodded. “Most people say it’s related to my military service.”

  “You were a soldier?” She brightened. “I knew some young men at military academies. A big war was breaking out in Europe but the newspapers said it would remain confined to those few countries. Many of the boys I knew hoped America would somehow become involved. Father said that could never be.”

  “Are you talking about World War One?”

  “Oh, I do not think it could be the same. This was begun when a minor archduke was assassinated. Within a few months half a dozen nations had declared war on someone else, but no fighting had taken place. Our President Wilson swore America would remain neutral.”

  “We did until 1917, when we first sent troops over. Some never made it back home.”

  “Oh dear, I wonder if any of those young men I knew were involved.”

  “If they were in military academies when you died, they probably fought in 1917 and 1918.”

  “I hope none of my friends had to fight. If America entered the fray, I suppose it really was a world war.”

  “At the time they just called it the Great War.” Muir’s expression suggested he had tired of the subject.

  Each was silent for a moment.

  “We were talking about loneliness and you didn’t answer my question. Does a spirit have the ability to feel lonely?”

  She struggled with the right words. “At times, and for long periods… desperately lonely.”

  “But not now while you’re here visiting me?”

  “No, not now. This exchange has been most pleasant.” Danielle smiled. “It has been such a long time without any meaningful conversation.”

  “Surely there have been numerous occupants here over the past century.”

  “As I have explained, Mr. Muir, mortals usually do not remain to notice me. Most are frightened and flee.”

  “Not me.” Muir shook his head slowly. “As soon as I saw you, I recognized you. No, that’s not it. You seemed so familiar, like I’ve always known you.”

  “But you have just arrived in this town and scarcely entered this hotel where I reside. How could I seem familiar?”

  “Can’t explain, but when I first met you, it was like I’d finally arrived home.”

  Danielle’s eyes widened. This portion of the entrancement was also escalating beyond expectations. “Home?”

  “Like my heart and soul had been wandering — exhausted and resigned to never be happy.”

  “Does this relate to the one you call Eva?”

  “She’s my ex-almost-fiancé. How do you know about her?”

  “You have called her name in your slumber.”

  “What did I say?” he asked.

  “Nothing very specific, but it is clear — perhaps as much as those soldier experiences — her memory troubles you.”

  “She was so vain and self-absorbed. She thought she was a super highway for my life, but actually she was just a bump in a bad road. Just a pothole I wish I’d seen sooner so I could have steered around it.”

  “I do not understand all your terms, Mr. Muir, but it is clear that leaving her was a troubling experience.”

  “No, leaving was the good part. Everything else was bad.”

  Danielle took a moment to contemplate. “Even when you coupled?” She could not restrain her giggle.

  “She had a pretty face and a nice body, but everything else was ugly.”

  Without comment, Danielle arched her eyebrows.

  “But I was horny and let that take first place.”

  Again, Danielle blushed. “I believe our conversation has taken another uncomfortable turn, for which I am partly to blame. I think it best that I depart before we engage in further familiarities.”

  “You’re coming back again, aren’t you? I mean, visibly.”

  “Would you wish it?”

  He nodded and smiled.

  “Very well, then. I shall.”

  “Promise?” Muir stood but did not advance.

  “A lady does not swear.”

  “But I want to see you again.”

  “I am disposed to consider your request favorably, Mr. Muir.” She disappeared in the blink of his eye and left her scent filling the room.

  ****

  “Wow.” Muir slumped back to his chair and took a long swig of his beer, presently a bit too warm for his taste. “Unbelievable. There are ghost hunters all over the world struggling to record blips on fancy equipment and I’ve been sitting here hanging out with a gorgeous spirit from 1914. Wow.” He reached for his phone and called Lucy.

  She answered right away and he reported his contact. “You mean visible… totally in view?” Lucy sputtered. “Not just shadows or hazy orbs?”

  “It was just like talking with anybody else.”

  “So she was an energy-generated hologram?”

  “Uh, not certain about that. I think she was really here. I could smell her perfume, you know.”

  “A spirit can’t be in our dimension, since they don’t exist in a form that we can perceive. Whatever you saw — and smelled for that matter — was a manifestation she projected from her realm.”

  “No, I think you’re wrong, Lucy. Danielle was here in this living room. Only she’s a fanatic about germs or something, because she wouldn’t let me get near her.”

  “She’s a holographic spirit, Levi.”

  “Nope. It was her… just like in the painting, only prettier. Oh, except not wearing that cool party dress.”

  “What was she wearing?”

  “Long dark skirt, all the way to the floor, white long-sleeved blouse, buttoned up to her neck.” Disappointly modest.

  “That sounds about like what I’d expect for everyday clothing for a society lady of that time.”

  “She said it was the outfit she had on when she died.”

  A long silence from the other end. “Amazing. That contact would’ve spiked all of our equipment, I’m sure. The EMFs would’ve been off the charts.”

  “Yeah, about all that equipment… I guess I should tell you, Danielle doesn’t like it.”

  “What do you mean? It’s state of the art. We’ve got some of the same gizmos those TV people use.”

  “But Danielle called it irritating and, uh,” he struggled to remember the word, “harassment.”

  “Harassment? We’re trying to do them a favor!”

  “That’s what I told her. But she says it’s about motive.”

  “What motive? A favor’s a favor. If we can make contact and help them get situated in the place they belong, it’s win-win.”

  “Uh, not quite that simple.”

  “What are you talking about, Levi? You’re a skeptic who just partied with a spook. And now you’re acting as her counsel?”

  “Well, never mind. I’ll just let her tell you when she’s ready.”

  “Tell me what? When will she be ready?”

  “She didn’t really say. I mean she didn’t speak it, not when we talked before. But I just now heard it as though she was transmitting while you and I were discussing it.”

  “That makes no sense whatsoever.” Lucy grunted. “Leave it to Danielle Gregg to wait a hundred years for a total skeptic and out-of-towner before she makes herself heard and seen. And now she’s enlisted you as her spokesman.”

  And seems to have her
hooks in my brain, too. “Look, I’m sorry I mentioned it.”

  Despite the implied criticism, Lucy was obviously excited about this development and eager to rush over. But Muir said no.

  “Why not?”

  “She’s already gone.”

  “That can’t be,” insisted Lucy. “When a spirit residually haunts a place, they’re always, uh, present.”

  “Yeah, she said she’s basically confined to this building, but also said she was leaving and she disappeared.”

  “Maybe she’s just invisible.”

  “Might be. In either case, you wouldn’t be able to see her. But she’s gone. I can sense it when she’s here.”

  “I can’t believe this. I’ve waited four years to see a spirit and you’re living with one but don’t even seem to think it’s a big deal.”

  “It’s a big deal all right. She’s seen me nekkid.”

  “This pervert ghostess admitted that?”

  “It’s okay. In 1914, she was thinking about becoming a nurse.”

  Chapter Nine

  Tuesday morning, August 19

  When Lucy saw her close friend Anna approaching so early in the morning, she almost tried to hide in her corner of the teacher’s lounge. Nothing against Anna, whom she spoke with daily, it was just that Lucy couldn’t handle any chirpiness at the moment.

  “How’s it going? I’ve got some great students this year.” Anna’s complexion was luxuriously smooth and the color of dark coffee. She’d been at Magnolia High for one year less than Lucy. “Two or three already told me they plan to major in biology.”

  Lucy’s eyes slowly closed. “On the second day of school?”

  “Well, one told me yesterday.” Anna had the petite physique of a college gymnast and a lovely enough face to be a movie star, but manifested no vanity whatsoever. “I love knowing the kids who really feel biology in their bones.”

  Something about that phrasing didn’t sound right, but Lucy had no energy to parse it, so she merely shifted the topic. “How’d the spirit chase go last night?” An investigation of one edge of the swamp had been originally scheduled for the previous week, but inexplicably moved to Monday night instead. Must have been related to the moon’s cycle.

  “Oh, I didn’t go.” Anna took a seat. “It’s one thing chasing spirits at night, but I didn’t want to have to worry about critters chasing me.”

  “You mean snakes and such?” Lucy was only being polite, she really wanted to be alone.

  “And panthers.”

  “Anna, you know the only panthers we have are these in school.” She pointed to the garish mascot image above the door.

  “Well, that’s a real comfort when you’re in the swamp at night and you hear that chilling cry.”

  “Good grief.”

  Anna brushed back one side of her straight black hair. “You seem a bit out of sorts, Luce.”

  “It’s only Day Two and I’m already feeling the urge to take my grade book out to the town dump and shoot it full of buckshot.” Lucy slumped over the coffee-stained table.

  “What’s wrong? Usually you’re still raring to go through the whole month of September at least. You don’t normally threaten to blast your grades until October.”

  Lucy groaned.

  “What?”

  “I’m bummed, Anna.”

  “Mrs. Gull riding you again about the budget for lab experiments?”

  “No, this is about Levi.”

  “He’s a rookie on his second day. Give him some time to adjust.”

  “Not about school. Levi seems to be assimilating okay with his classes.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “After all the time we spent together this past weekend, I thought maybe we had something, you know… starting.”

  “Gosh, Luce, give it a more than four days.”

  “He’d just begun to open up a bit with me, but now he’s preoccupied with that ghostess.”

  Anna examined her short, unpainted nails. “The last info you texted me referred to dreams and possible sounds, maybe an odor. Pretty generic stuff. Oh, and I think the ghost moved something heavy.”

  “Oh, that was Sunday night. Wait ‘til you hear about their tryst last night.”

  “So what did Levi and the elusive Miss Gregg chat about?”

  “Not only chatted — she appeared.”

  “No way!” Anna clutched the table’s edge. “He’s already met her?”

  “A full-scale holographic manifestation plus olfactory signals. From just what I know so far, I’m guessing she’s a hybrid spirit, somehow combining both a residual and an intelligent haunting.”

  “Shut up! For real?”

  “From what I can gather, they practically sat down to tea together. Getting real chummy.”

  “With a spirit?” Anna eyed the wall clock.

  “That’s part of the problem. Since Levi doesn’t believe in spirits, he seems to think of Danielle as a real person. And he finds her oh-so attractive.

  “Doesn’t he realize that lady is some 120 years old by now?”

  “Like I said, he’s suspended everything you and I would be thinking and all that’s on his mind is, Hey, she’s a babe.”

  “Well, she was, in her day.”

  “Yeah, but not the kind of babe that he can take on a date to the movies.”

  “Good point, Luce.”

  “Plus, he’s also lecturing me on having the proper motive as we investigate spirits.”

  “Motive? Where’d that come from?”

  “Straight from Danielle Gregg, according to Levi. He said she currently transmits her thoughts directly into his brain.”

  “Oh, good grief.” Anna checked the clock again. She was a stickler for never being late to her classes.

  “Yeah, they’re a regular pair already. Before long, I’m afraid he won’t even know my name.”

  “That’s ridiculous. You two had that wonderful supper date last night, didn’t you? This is just your insecurity creeping out again.”

  “Maybe you’re right. It pops up at the oddest times.”

  “Hang in there, Luce.” Anna scooted back her chair.

  “I just can’t get over a skeptic becoming a spirit prima donna overnight.”

  Anna patted the back of her hand. “Well, keep helping with his research and stay close. When Levi gets tired of dusty old papers about a musty old ghostess, he’ll look up and see you again.”

  Lucy spotted Muir entering and waved Anna away. “Amscray.”

  Anna scurried off and nearly bumped into Muir as she left.

  Muir greeted Anna, who didn’t remain long enough to reply. Then he approached the table. “Hi, Lucy, how’s it going? Sorry if I called too late last night.”

  “That’s okay, I was still up.”

  He hadn’t taken a seat, so evidently he didn’t intend to stay.

  Why spend time with a mortal when you’ve got a live ghostess at home?

  “Guess I just got excited. You know, my first time to see a spook.” Muir discreetly looked to see if anyone else was near. “And she’s hot, too.”

  “So I gather.” Lucy made a show of yawning.

  “Yeah, I’m kind of tired too. Couldn’t stop thinking about my live-in ghostess.”

  ****

  Tuesday Night

  As was her new custom, Danielle monitored Muir’s after school activity and deportment from the time he entered their jointly occupied suite. He had sifted through a few stacks of papers — perhaps student reports or essays. But Muir had seemed distracted as he gazed out the east-facing window toward the Little Tensaw Branch River and its distant railroad bridge entering the outskirts of Magnolia.

  She could not read all of his thoughts but was able to discern a remarkable proportion. Most did not interest her. Danielle had already ruled out any further scrutiny of Muir’s occasional thoughts about Eva, whom he had previously left, and likewise discarded his frequent stressful memories from his time in uniform. The parts of Muir’
s brain which Danielle focused upon were those which touched either on her or Miss Tierney, the rival with the potential to dilute Muir’s assistance.

  When she perceived a Muir thought about herself, Danielle nurtured it as though she were softly puffing breath to heat up a struggling ember. But to any of his thoughts about that other woman, Danielle sprinkled vexing, chilling confusions to make them seem bitter… as though she were flicking cold salt into his coffee. It was a shame to hamper their developing relationship, but for Danielle’s effort to be successful, she needed all of Muir’s attention and energy.

  Her newly-hatched plan — begun just after Muir returned from supper with that woman — was already quite effective. From reading his thoughts, Danielle knew Muir had spent very little time with Tierney at school that day and it was the spirit’s intention to keep up the embargo as long as necessary.

  But now she could focus on Muir himself, once again present with her in their cozy mutual parlor.

  She watched as Muir settled himself in the upholstered chair and again sipped a beverage from a tall glass bottle. He looked about the suite expectantly, as though Danielle was supposed to appear on cue. That piqued her pride, but she did not keep him waiting long.

  She began with a whisper, to which he turned and smiled warmly. Then she blew softly toward his face, as though she were scattering a dandelion’s spores. Her breath would have no odor since it was only energy, but Muir could feel it immediately and raised his chin so as to bathe in the focused gust. Then she hummed a fragment of a favorite melody. Finally, Danielle concentrated in the particular manner necessary to materialize herself into a form Muir could see.

  He stood as though she had entered through the door. “Good afternoon, Danielle. I hoped you would show up. What was that song you were humming?”

  “Greetings to you as well. One of Al Jolson’s… number one hit last year. I mean, my last year, 1913.”

  “It’s pretty. Seems familiar, but I’m not acquainted with much of Jolson’s work.”

  She smiled softly. “It has a lot of meaning for me. One of my favorite possessions was a tiny music box which played the chorus.” She pointed toward the portrait behind her. “You can see it on that small table, in front of which I posed.”