“Focus, Evie.”
I should be scared.
Terrified.
A wall had come down. A curtain had been opened.
I could see them all here. Milling about. Crowding inside.
But I wasn’t afraid. I shifted. Closed my eyes.
They didn’t seem to want anything from me. Of course not. They waited to see Paulie.
I peered at them again. There were no severed limbs. No blood. No guts.
Just people, all shapes and sizes and ages and colors, who moved without effort, who had varying degrees of light coming from their skin.
“They’re worried,” I said.
“You need to focus, Evie.”
No, I wanted to say, you focus, Paulie. This house of yours is full of spirits waiting for . . . for what?
I didn’t tell Paulie. No way. He might faint knowing what I saw in his front room and out on the porch and in the line waiting to come into this place. I guess I would have said, At least they’re acting all mannerly. No one’s pushing and shoving.
As me and Aunt Odie got in the Cadillac to drive off, another car pulled in. A true flesh-and-blood car. A man in a suit climbed out of the Kia, and from the line of ghosts that made its way around the house (close enough to touch the building) stepped a woman in a short skirt and jacket. Her hair was done up nice. She drifted over to him, her body trembling a little like Jell-O does if you hit into the table. Her glow grew as they neared each other.
“Go on in,” Aunt Odie said when the man hesitated on the first step. The dead pushed near. The woman tried to take the man’s hand. “Paulie’s the best. You looking to find your future?”
“No, I lost my sister,” he said. His face was like a broken dish.
The woman gazed at me. She said, “You tell Warren it’s okay,” and I could smell roses. “My passing is still new for him. For us.” She pressed her hand to her chest. “Tell him things are fine.”
I looked at Aunt Odie. She put the car in reverse. A shiver ran right up my spine. It felt like my nerves played in my hair, making knots.
The woman slid to the window and I almost screamed. “Tell him,” she said.
Aunt Odie said, “I cannot wait to get me something hot for breakfast. My stomach’s growling. You hear it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said all whispery. Even my eyebrows felt electrified.
“Let’s git,” Aunt Odie said just as the woman said, “Now, please. If you don’t mind. If it’s not too much trouble.”
The sun broke the horizon, slicing through clouds. The mist burned off the yard and the dew glittered like baubles.
“Wait,” I said to Aunt Odie. “Stop.”
The car rolled a few feet more as she slowed.
The man knocked on the door now, and I could hear Paulie calling out that we should go, he had an appointment and did we want to scare away business?
“Mister.”
He knocked again, and Paulie opened the door wide. “Go on now,” he said, waving at us. He wore that hat. Why? To the man he said, “Just family. Come on in, Mr. Bargio. They’re leaving.”
“Hey. Mister.” I tried to holler, but my throat was coated with his sorrow and I couldn’t say it louder than the sound a mouse makes on a lamp shade.
But he heard me. Mr. Bargio turned. His face was drawn. Sad. His eyes broke my heart.
“She said . . .” I gulped air like a fish pulled out of the water. “Your sister said, ‘It’s okay.’”
Mr. Bargio hesitated.
All of the dead looked at me. All of them.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s okay,” I said. “She said it’s okay. She’s fine. And then to the others, “I can’t help you. I gotta get to school.”
“You saw her?” Mr. Bargio asked.
I nodded.
“Is there anything else?”
I shook my head. “No. Not that she said to me.”
Paulie, Mr. Bargio, and the dead stared at me.
Aunt Odie mighta swallowed her tongue.
“Let’s git,” I said.