Linda opened her eyes and stared down at her own body. It lay in bed, eyes closed, chest rising and falling with each breath. She floated upward like a balloon, through the ceiling, into the cold, clear night. She rose above the city, above the skyscrapers, into the black, star-scattered dome above.
What was going on?
She looked down at herself. Her body was soft and translucent, wreathed in milky light, and a glowing, silver cord ran down from her navel, to her apartment building far below. The sight of that cord made her feel somehow safer, made her certain that she could return if she wanted. She looked up at the sky, and a white light blossomed above her. She floated toward it, into it, and the world disappeared.
Linda stood on soft, mist-covered ground. The mist hid her feet, swirled around her legs. The unseen ground beneath it was spongy and slightly giving. She took a few, tentative steps. It felt almost like walking on a cloud, or what she’d imagined a cloud would feel like, as a child, before she learned clouds were just water vapor.
Linda shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. Goose-bumps rose on her arms. She was dressed only in her flimsy, white cotton nightgown, and her feet were bare. The silver cord still trailed from her navel, vanishing into the mist below. With her mind, she felt carefully along its length and followed it down to its end. A glimpse of her sleeping body flashed through her mind, and her anxiety faded a little.
“Hello?” she called. “Anyone here?”
The silence swallowed her question.
She looked around. The mist-covered field stretched in every direction, flat and empty, no trees or rocks for miles. Overhead arched the clearest night sky she’d ever seen, blue-black, edged with purple, and covered with a thick spray of glittering stars. She felt profoundly alone in this vast, silent, empty place. Fear slipped into her heart like a sliver of ice.
She began to walk, hugging herself for warmth. Ahead, she saw something tall and bright, rising out of the mist.
Linda quickened her pace. She drew closer, but still, she couldn’t see what the object was. She broke into a run… then stopped and stared in awe.
A pair of open, shining white gates rose out of the mist. There was nothing around them, nothing to hold them up. They stood alone, glowing with a soft, pearly radiance, like moonlight, their surface carved with hundreds of tiny, intricate shapes -- letters, maybe, but in no language she recognized. A long stream of misty, indistinct figures passed through them. They looked like people, but they were pale, soft and translucent. She stared, bewildered. The line went on for as far as she could see, fading into the misty distance, moving in a steady drift. The figures didn’t even glance at her. As they passed through the gates, into the clear, soft light on the other side, they seemed to dissolve into nothing.
“Move along,” said a raspy voice. “Don’t hold up the line.”
Her eyes followed the voice to its source. A dark form stood beside the gates, leaning on a cane. Its back was hunched, its body wrapped in folds of heavy, black cloth, its face hidden by a hood. The figure’s hands -- the only part of it she could see -- were long, brown, thin and withered, more like the hands of a mummy than a living person. She peered into the shadows within the hood, trying to see its face, but there seemed to be nothing there, just a solid, formless darkness.
The man’s head turned toward her. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. For a moment, she wanted to turn and run as far and as fast as she could, but she suppressed the urge. The man -- if it was a man -- hadn’t done anything threatening. He just stood there, leaning on his cane, and looked at her. She couldn’t see his eyes, but she could feel the weight of his gaze.
“Hello,” she said. Her voice sounded very small in the vast silence. Her heart knocked against her chest. “Who are you?”
“I am the Guardian of the Gates,” said a flat, empty voice. “I monitor the passage of souls between the world of the living and the world of the dead.” He glanced at the line of misty forms again. A smaller form had stopped and was looking around, faceless head swiveling back and forth, as if in bewilderment. “Move along!” said the Guardian, and waved a hand. “This isn’t a sight-seeing tour.”
The ghostly form scampered through the gates.
“But what am I doing here?” said Linda. “Am I… dead?”
“Of course not. You’ve still got your cord, don’t you?” He pointed at the silver string trailing from her navel. “You’ve just left your body.”
“But why?”
“Why are you asking me? You’re the one who came here. You must want something.”
“The last thing I remember is falling asleep in bed. That must mean… is this a dream?”
“It is. And it isn’t.”
Linda frowned. “I don’t understand.”
The man shrugged.
“Just tell me, am I asleep right now?”
“Your body sleeps.”
Well, okay then. It was a dream. Yet in spite of that, she knew somehow that this was just as real as anything in her waking life. Oh, this was confusing. Linda shook her head, dismissing the question. She could try to puzzle it out later. “I guess as long as I’m here, I may as well ask you some questions. You said you’re the Guardian of the Gates, and the gates lead to the world of the dead?”
“Correct,” the Guardian replied in its dead voice. The voice was like the whisper of dry autumn leaves in the wind, like the stale, cold air inside a tomb.
The sound of it made her skin crawl, as if she were covered with ants, but she continued. “There’s a man I know. His name is Gregory.”
“I know of him. The fool who sought immortality.” He chuckled, a hollow sound like stones rattling down an empty well. “He trained for years with a shaman, teaching his soul to fly from his body and return… then he came here, to me, and demanded the secret to cheating death. Demanded! Like an impudent child, puffed up with pride and self-importance. ‘And why should I tell you?’ I said, ‘when I could strike you dead on the spot? Why should I share with you the secret that has eluded philosophers and kings since the dawn of time?’ ‘Because,’ he replied, ‘I am Gregory, the greatest sorcerer on Earth. One day I will be a god, and when that day comes, I will remember that you helped me. If you don’t tell me, I’ll just find out some other way.’” The Guardian chuckled again. He glanced at the procession of spirits and waved along a few stragglers. “Keep going. Yes, right through the gates.” He sighed. “You’d think they’d be able to figure it out. Anyway… yes, Gregory. No doubt he regrets his grand ambitions now.”
“So he angered you, and you punished him by turning him into a spirit?” asked Linda.
“I wasn’t angry. On the contrary, I was delighted. You see, my job here is rather dull. I value amusement more than anything, and he was the most amusing man I had met for some time. So I gave him the spell to make him immortal.”
“You knew what would happen to him.”
“Of course I knew. But I gave him exactly what he asked for, did I not? Now, he will never die. It isn’t my fault if immortality wasn’t what he expected.”
Linda took a deep breath. Anger flared in her, but she ignored it. Anger would not help her right now. “Is there any way he can be brought back to life? Or if that’s not possible, can he at least pass through the gates into death and have some peace? Hasn’t he suffered enough?”
“Why should I care? He was a power-hungry fool.”
“I know he used to be arrogant, but he’s changed. He regrets his mistakes. Isn’t there a way?”
The Guardian tilted his head. “There is one.”
Her heart leapt. “What is it?”
“For another to trade places with him, to become a wandering spirit in his place. If that were to happen, he would return to the world of the living at the same age he left it, and when he died, he would pass through the gates like any other soul.”
“But…” Linda bit her lower lip. “Who would be willing to do such a thing?”
“No one, of course, which is why he’s still trapped in the spirit realm… and always will be. Humans are selfish creatures. You!” He pointed at someone. “Don’t hold up the line.”
“Maybe a lot of people are selfish, but not everyone,” said Linda.
“Bah. I’ve watched humankind for thousands of years. There are some who pretend to be good and kind, but it’s only because they believe they’ll be rewarded somehow, either in life or the afterlife. There’s not a single person on Earth who would sacrifice his soul for another man.”
Linda frowned, but sensed it would be pointless to argue. “There’s no other way to save him, then?”
“That is the only way,” said the Guardian.
She clenched her fists. “You did this to him. Can’t you just undo it?”
“I did nothing to him. I merely told him the spell. He did this to himself. I am only a gatekeeper. I have no desire to reward or punish mortals. I don’t see why I should trouble myself with the fate of one insignificant man. Now, if that’s all, why don’t you go back to Earth and leave me to my duties? I’ve got a lot of souls to move. You! Stop gawping at the scenery. There are a lot of people behind you.” He paused, then looked at Linda. “Are you still here? What are you waiting for?”
“I…”
The ground dropped out from Linda, and she plunged into blackness.
She woke with a gasp, heart galloping.
She was in her bedroom again, surrounded by the familiar off-white walls, the messy stacks of books on her dresser and floor. She looked across the room at the mirror on her wall. Her own pale, frightened face stared back at her. Tendrils of dark hair clung to her brow and cheek.
Linda exhaled and flopped back to the bed. She closed her eyes and pressed her fingertips against her eyelids. “Gregory?” she said. “Are you there?”
Silence.
“Gregory?” she called. “Please answer me.” Still no response.
How much of that had been a dream? How much had been real?
Maybe it had all been a dream. Maybe she’d never spoken to a man named Gregory. The memories seemed crisp and real in her mind, not fuzzy and vague like dream-memories, but still, what was easier to believe? That she’d had an unusually weird and vivid dream, or that she’d actually been fucked by a bodiless spirit?
She got out of bed and walked up to the mirror. Her teeth pressed into her lower lip as she searched the reflection. She saw nothing. Of course not, she thought, and sighed. Because there was no such thing as ghosts.
Disappointment weighed heavy on her heart. Her throat tightened, and she brushed away a tear with the back of one hand. Why was she so upset?
Because now you’re alone again, she thought. However strange and scary last night had been, it had also been exhilarating -- not just because of the sex, but because for a brief while, someone had eased the ache of loneliness in her heart. She hadn’t realized just how desperately lonely she’d become, how badly she needed companionship. She felt Gregory’s absence like a blade.
Another tear slipped down her cheek. Exasperated with herself, she wiped it away and glanced at the clock. Her alarm would go off in about fifteen minutes, anyway. She may as well start getting ready for work.
She tugged a comb through her tangled dark hair and winced as the comb’s teeth hit a snarl. Once she’d gotten her hair more or less tamed, she showered and put on a white blouse and a pair of dark slacks. She applied a bit of pink lipstick in the bathroom and paused, looking around. She thought she’d heard a voice say her name. “Gregory?” she called.
At first she felt nothing. Then a tingling sensation spread over her skin and through her body. Something warm moved through her, brushed against her very heart. She gasped as the now-familiar heat of Gregory’s presence filled her body. Her nipples tightened to hard, puckered buds, and goose-bumps rose on her arms and legs.
“You called me?” The deep voice seemed to echo inside her head.
“Oh God,” she murmured. “It was real. It was all real.”
“Pardon?”
“I thought I might have dreamt you.” She wet her lips. “I didn’t invite you in that time. But I can feel you inside my head… in my body. I thought I had to invite you in.”
“Only the first time.”
“So you can go in and out at will now? I wish you’d told me that before.”
“Would it have changed your mind? Would you have denied me entrance, if you’d known?”
She paused. “I don’t know,” she admitted. She toyed with her tube of lipstick, turning it over nervously in her fingers. “But you can probably understand why the idea makes me a little nervous. Will you promise not to come inside my mind unless I call you?”
“Very well.”
He’d made that promise a little too easily. She wondered if she could trust it -- but then, what choice did she have? It wasn’t like she could stop him. The thought made her heartbeat quicken.
“Are you afraid of me?” asked that deep voice. It rumbled in the center of her head, the marrow of her bones.
“A little,” she murmured.
“Believe me, I would not harm you, Linda.” His voice caressed her name. The sound sent a rush of heat to her sex, made parts of her tighten and tingle.
She wondered about her own reaction to him. It wasn’t like her to get so hot and bothered over a man she barely knew. Was it just that she hadn’t had sex in so long? Or was it the strange intimacy of having his mind inside hers that heightened every sensation, made the connection so much more intense?
She paused. It seemed there was something she ought to tell him, something she’d dreamt about, but she could no longer remember the details. A hazy image of a mist-covered field and white gates flitted through her mind, then was gone. The more she concentrated, the further away it slipped. She sighed and gave up. How important could it be, anyway? It was only a dream. “Anyway, I have to go to work now,” she said.
“When will you return?”
“Around five.”
“I will be waiting.”
The way he said it made her shiver. She felt him moving through her body and mind, winding around and through her. And then he was gone.