by Kipjo Ewers
“I know,” he whispered in her ear. “The doctor told me …that was your big surprise, right?”
A haunting wail filled the room and began to intensify while the air became frigid to the point that Fred could see his breath. Exorcized of any fear, husband scooped his wife up into his arms as she clung onto him. He carried her back to their bed, where they held onto one another and bitterly mourned.
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As intended the late Mrs. Garrett carried out her plan to breathe life back into her husband, it wasn’t a complicated plan to conduct, and she did not have to do much. Every day he woke up and saw that she was still with him not only brought the colors back in him, it blinded everyone with their brightness.
Fred became so intoxicated by his semblance of happiness, it was difficult for him to hide what was going on at home, especially with the spring in his step his wife laid on him almost every night.
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Barney who smelled the change like a blood hound waited patiently for the opportune time to see who was giving his friend his groove back.
Barney struck one day while going over their latest account acquisition in his office.
“So, are we happy with the projections?” Fred asked.
“Uh, Huh.” Barney flatly answered with narrowed eyes at his friend.
“That means we just have the twelve-year model to clean up, and then we can put it all together to take to Bronson,” Fred concluded. “You want to get the teams together, and see how far they got after lunch?’
“Sure.”
“Okay, well you want to take an early lunch and hit up the comic book store?” Fred suggested.
“Now all of the sudden you feel like going to the comic book store?” Barney started with an interrogative tone.
Fred chose his next words carefully, realizing he had fallen into a spider’s web.
“I’m in the mood to collect again,” Fred cleared his throat. “I want to get the back issues to the ‘Eye of Ra’ I missed, and the second issue to the Regulators came out today. You don’t want to snatch it up before the afternoon rush takes the good issues?”
“Of course, I do.” Barney nonchalantly shrugged.
Fred nodded as he took a sip from his coffee.
“Why do you look like a dude whose been getting laid on the reg?”
His question made Fred choke and gag on his coffee.
“What the hell?”
“Don’t try that cliché choking bullshit to avoid the question.” Barney wagged his finger. “Who you been fucking?”
“No one!”
“It’s that doll, right?” Barney asked with a nose twitch. “You hooked on silicone coochie now.”
“What?” An unnerved Fred squeaked out. “No!”
“You damn liar, your voice got soft in the end,” Barney laid into him. “I thought you said it was to help you sleep? What was it like?”
“None of your damn business!”
“I bet you hit it last night,” Barney muttered with jealousy written on his face and in his tone. “How many times, it’s virgin tight all the time, right? You’re so damn lucky.”
“You have a living breathing wife Barney,” Fred glared at him. “Who from your count is willing to give it to you at the drop of a dime, and is very good at it from your many graphic details that make me incredibly ashamed to look at her when I see her sometimes.”
“That was until Ethan came and destroyed all of that.” Barney leaned back in his chair with a defeated look on his face.
“Your son?”
“Don’t get me wrong, my wife is hot as hell, smarter than me, and can suck a golf ball through a fifty-foot garden hose better than Superhead on any given day.”
Fred reeled back attempting the shake the last visual from his brainpan.
“But after my big head son went Draugr on my poor wife’s perfect honey pot when he came out …shit ain’t been the same man.”
A disturbed Fred watched as his friend gave him the look of a wounded animal.
“When I got up all in her, she used to use her walls and clench me, Fred. Clench me! That was her superpower! I couldn’t go nowhere! Then she’d whisper in my ear, ‘Whose dick is this bitch?’ I’d sometimes hesitate just so that she could clench me tighter before I answered. Now, …she can’t clench me no more Fred … She doesn’t even try. It’s like the death of Captain Omega all over again man.”
Barney wiped the mist from his eyes as he reached for his coffee to take a sip.
“I love my son, but sometimes when I look at him. I just want to dropkick him on the side of his basketball head.”
Fred shook his head unsure what to say in regards to that type of loss. He inconspicuously glanced at the message that came up on his new Apple watch.
“LMFAO. So this is what you two talk about.”
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The Apple Watch turned out to be one of many new devices Fred purchased and experimented with to communicate and interact with his wife.
“I think I solved the whole you not being able to look me in the eye directly and move problem,” Fred beamed one day.
With a bright smile, he pulled out a pair of extra dark sunglasses from his pocket presenting them to her.
“You want me to wear shades?” she asked.
“No, I will wear the shades,” he corrected her. “That way I can see you, but then you can’t see my eyes, which should allow you to concentrate better.”
He eagerly placed them over his eyes and waited for her to animate the doll in front of him. He couldn’t wait to see her leap to her feet and walk around, or lean forward and hold his hand. Disappointment, however, began to set in as the doll remained in its dormant state.
“Mary, you there? It’s not working, is it? Mary?”
A flutter of nervousness filled him as she did not respond.
“Mary, what’s wrong? Is it the glasses?” He asked while leaning in. “Mary? Mary. Mary! Talk to …”
Before he could pull the shades off his face believing they were somehow the reason for her dead silence, she violently lunged at him causing him to scream several octaves nearing soprano. He fell back into the couch hitting the plush armrest hard with the back of his head as she now straddled him. He cringed as she moved closer with a blank, lifeless expression on her face.
She closed her eyes nuzzling her nose against his for an Eskimo kiss.
“Don’t … Do… That…” he choked up.
She silenced his hysteria, by kissing him deeply. He had an expression of intoxication as she slowly released her lip lock pulling away.
“Cherry flavored lip gloss?” He asked while licking his lips.
She answered with a nod.
He watched with child-like wonderment as she naturally sat cross legged on the sofa in front of him, now able to look him in the face. Her movement was more fluid and less sluggish.
“Oh!” He shook himself from his amazement. “I just remembered I found this voice texting app to help with communication.”
Grabbing his iPhone, with a swipe and a couple of taps, he set up the app.
“Okay,” he swallowed. “Text the words ‘something’.”
“Something,” the phone emitted a voice mimicking what she texted. Except it was a cartoon duck voice.
“Oh! Wrong setting!”
He quickly tapped to one of the female voices on the app.
“Try again.”
“The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain,” a perky young female voice translated her text. “I sound like I should have a training bra; you don’t have anything womanlier?”
“Hold on Eliza,” Fred snorted. “Try this one.”
“I'm not bad I'm just drawn that way,” She leaned in batting her eyelashes as a
semi-sensual female voice translated her text for her. “I like this one, sounds a bit like Washington.”
Fred’s heart quickened as she sprung to her feet going for a stroll around the living room. She turned giving him a natural smile knowing that was what he wanted to see.
“You’re getting more comfortable in that body.” He noted.
“That’s because the Force is strong with me.”
Fred narrowed his eyes to his wife’s childish wit as she turned beaming at him.
“I'm practicing while you’re at work,” she got serious. “As you know, I don’t have a body anymore, but I can still feel things …just differently. This doll is the perfect conduit for my spirit. Most spirits who inhabit dolls can barely get them to do the most basic movement.”
“Let me guess,” he swallowed. “Other ghosts told you this.”
Her second nod made him a tad bit uneasy as he looked around wondering who else was in their house with them.
“Mary, are you the only one that can use that body?” Fred nervously asked.
“Yes, only I can use this body,” she answered with a nod.
“And you know this because?”
“Other spirits who had attempted to inhabit it was painfully expelled from it when they tried to take it.”
“Other spirits have tried to take the body from you?” He swallowed.
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t tell me this because?”
“A, there is nothing you can do about it,” she answered. “And B, spirits here get the hint very quickly. No one else will be coming to jack this body.”
The look on her face requested him to drop the subject, while her answer exacerbated his uneasiness. Fred began to realize that the spirit world came with a different set of rules than the world of the living. Growing concern made his insides hot knowing that she was forever stuck there until she passed on, and there was very little she could tell him about it.
He chose his next question carefully.
“You’re okay, right?”
She walked back over to him with a smile on her face taking a seat and holding his hand.
“Everything is fine, I promise.”
Her answer did nothing but flood his psyche with thoughts of all the supernatural movies he’d seen over the years and their interpretation of the spirit world.
Begrudgingly he did not push the matter further remembering what she stressed she would have to do if he inquired too much about the other side.
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On certain days it became challenging to push back, the days when things teetered between creepy and scary.
There were certain days that she would jump out of nowhere, or stare out of the window looking outside as if in a trance.
A couple of times he walked up and touched her, she would turn to him with horrific fright plastered all over her face. She would then walk away and begin doing some chore to distract herself, never speaking about what happened or what she saw.
One night, she collapsed to her knees and began trembling like a leaf. Fred slid to her side begging her to tell him what was going on.
She asked to him cup her ears. He did it knowing that the act would not stop her from hearing whatever was terrifying her, it gave a sliver of comfort knowing that despite being in two different dimensions, he was right there with her.
After an hour and a half, she stopped shaking. They lay on the floor as she curled up into Fred’s arms holding onto him for dear life.
She never spoke about what she heard to frighten her so badly.
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As Fred gorged ravenously on the fantasy of having Mary return to him, he at times left his underbelly open to realities razor sharp harpoon.
One day as Fred trotted up the steps after plowing through another work day to be with his wife, he stopped half way up due to the sound of music pulsating from his apartment.
“Oh shit,” Fred swallowed.
He took his time ascending the last flight to get onto his landing. As Fred neared the door, hornets began stinging his insides.
He was convinced when her mother gave birth to her; she came out bobbing her head to the sound of music. Not only was it a big part of her life, but he could tell what type of demeanor she was in by what was playing before he walked in.
Pop, Rock, K-Pop, Drum and Bass, Jungle, or light humored Hip Hop meant she was either in a good or productive mood. R&B or Soul meant she was in a romantic mood, but if it had heartbreaking lyrics it said she was sad and would need some consoling. Reggae or R&B on the raunchy side told him she was going to maul him the second he walked through the door. Heavy Metal, hardcore Hip Hop, or Darkcore said she was pissed off, and to enter the apartment at his own risk.
The sound of Method Man spitting venomous lyrics from his Judgment Day album meant his apartment was an official hot zone.
“Maybe she’s just in the mood to listen to Wu,” he whispered to himself. “Please let her just be in the mood.”
Knowing she probably already knew he was there, Fred strolled into the apartment pretending to be oblivious to what could have her in a foul mood.
He was thrown off by the pile of shipping boxes stacked together in the center of the living room. A few open packages had dresses, top and bottoms, and shoes.
Fred’s eyes found her at her writer’s desk working on her laptop as she slowly bobbed her head to the heavy beat as she clicked away on her mouse.
He remembered to adorn his glasses and activate the audio text app before addressing her.
“You got more stuff?”
“Yep,” she answered. “Some of my outfits will fit this body, but not all. Especially with these damn melons, and size eight feet. So, I bought a couple of outfits, some shoes, a hat or two, and a wheelchair.”
“How did you get it all this upstairs?”
“I waited until Ms. Santiago went running her errands at two o’clock. The wheelchair was a bitch to get upstairs, but everything else was quite easy. I made sure to order from one store so that everything came at the same time. Beware that she’s either going to give you weird looks or ask you why you were ordering stuff from a women’s store.”
“Gee thanks,” Fred rolled his eyes. “Why did you order a wheelchair?”
“Because you’d look foolish carrying me everywhere you go.”
“You …plan on us going out?” Fred swallowed.
“As much as I love our little apartment, I have no desires to be cooped up in here like a hermit. It would be nice for us to go out and spend some time outside of these four walls.”
“Wait, I thought you said you could …”
“I can go anywhere I please.” She cut him off. “You’d look less crazy if you appeared to be interacting with a physical person.”
“Physically you can pass, but facial wise you look like you came out of that video ‘Me! Me! Me!’,” Fred pointed out.
“I fixed that you cheeky bastard,” she retorted. “There’s a question I have meant to ask you for a while, why have you been giving money to my sister?”
A knot formed in both Fred’s stomach and throat at the question, as the air in the room, became frosty signaling that she was becoming irritable.
“Uh, could you repeat the question?” He swallowed.
The audio text had translated her question. Apparently, Fred was hoping for time to think up a suitable answer. She whipped her chair around to face him armed with a narrow gaze revealing her displeasure.
“Whoa!” He sprung backward. “What happened to your face?”
Fred’s shock came from the fact that the doll’s face no longer had its bug-eyed anime style visage. It was still slightly cartoony, but more on the American side with human level eyes.
“The face is from Real Doll’s Boy Toy line,” she answered. “All you have to s
wap the removable face, eyes, nose and bone structure underneath. Now, why the fuck have you been giving our money to my sister? Do remember that I have been watching everything you’ve been doing for almost a year.”
