I didn’t mind hospitals so much anymore. Maybe I’d just gotten used to them. Most morgues are at the bottom of one, and there’s no better place to meet people than the morgue.
But I made sure the welcome committee would feel like one this time. There’d be no surveying until the foundling had acclimated.
It took about a month or two of making the rounds to finally find our first.
I didn’t expect to see a third figure standing at the autopsy table, not dressed for it, in a dark hoodie and jeans to match. Under the hood, the young Black man looked just as surprised to meet my eyes, if way calmer than I would’ve expected. Especially because the body being opened up on the table looked about the right size and shape and skin color to be his own.
“Can you see us?” I asked.
Danny and Carlos hung back so they wouldn’t have to look at the autopsy. I did my best to ignore all the red in my peripheral, not to mention the nudity. At second glance, the corpse didn’t quite look like him.
The new ghost took his hoodie strings out of his mouth, looking embarrassed. Maybe he didn’t indulge that habit if he thought anybody could see him.
“Um, hi,” he said. “Are you guys, like—are you—this is going to sound stupid, but—”
“We’re not with management, if that’s what you’re wondering,” said Danny.
“Not angels, or reapers, or anything,” added Carlos.
“Just ghosts like you,” I said. “They call me Mal.”
Danny and Carlos introduced themselves in kind.
“Terence,” said the new ghost. He gestured at himself and us. “So this is what’s up? It’s ghosts?”
“There’s probably more,” I said. “We’ll get to that.”
Carlos couldn’t contain himself. “You’re not watching your own autopsy, are you?”
“That’s not me.”
“We all have different ways of coping,” I said, trying to exude non-judgmental understanding.
“I’m a mortuary science major,” he said. “Or, you know… I was. I didn’t even get to this part. I used to be kind of scared I’d get here and want to change my major again, but… well, I feel nothing. I guess we’re just meat, in the end.”
“Well, not exactly,” I said.
“Oh, right,” he said, looking at us—and himself—in renewed disbelief. “I didn’t expect this.”
“Neither did I,” said Danny. I’d never seen her eyes shine like that, her cheeks pink. “I’m a fellow scholar of the dead.”
The new ghost’s face lit up. “Oh, for real?”
“Well, not the fresh kind—the opposite, actually. Anthropology.”
“Ah,” he said, nodding. “Maybe I should’ve picked—”
His face fell. He wouldn’t be changing his major ever again. But that didn’t mean he’d have to stop learning.
The new ghost spread his hands. “So what’s going on here?”
He quirked his brows.
“It’s fine if you don’t,” added Danny. “There’s still lots of fun to be had on this side.”
“Er—we can—what?”
I offered my palm. “Come with us.”
He stared at my hand suspiciously. “Where we going?”
“It’s just a bar.”
“Why would we go there?”
“So we can grab a drink, if you like. Or shoot some pool, play pinball.”
He scrunched his face at me. I didn’t need to be so cryptic, but it was kind of fun.
“Look, I know you must be feeling pretty overwhelmed,” I said. “Or you’re not feeling as much as you think you should be. It’s different for everyone. Whatever the case, I want you to know you shouldn’t feel guilty for seeking distraction and comfort. It’s not an easy transition. But you’ve got a whole afterlife ahead of you, and you’ve got to start somewhere.”
Slowly, carefully, he extended a sleeve-covered hand. I took it, walls well-fortified. Even if we couldn’t feel skin, he must’ve picked up on my warmth, his mouth parting in a surprised smile.
I grinned. “And you’re not alone.”
* * *
The Haunt kept me busy, enough that I hardly noticed the years passing, except that the leaves in the hotel windows were either green and glowing, or withered and dying, the rooms carpeted with moss one moment, snow the next.
It must’ve felt like forever for Evie. I could only imagine how slow and painful and even boring it felt as she struggled in physical rehab. For once, I didn’t envy her possession of a body. It could be a vessel of pain as well as pleasure, though I’d take the former just to feel the latter again. It would be worth it, in the end. Especially with her family there to hold her hands.
Ren came to cheer her on as often as he could. He had his own struggles with migraines and fatigue, but he still showed up for emotional and sometimes physical support. I couldn’t linger too close, occasionally peeking through the windows, but mostly listening through the walls.
Once, when her sister had work and her mother had a doctor’s appointment, he was the one to hold her when she broke down in tears.
“I’ll give you guys a minute,” said her physical therapist.
Evie’s breath pitched. “I can’t—I can’t—”
Ren’s voice was warm. “I’ll carry you.”
She gave a hiccupping little laugh. “I’m not that light, you know.”
After she’d gotten out of the hospital, she’d begun putting her weight back on, looking more like her old self. She didn’t seem to know how good those curves looked, how much healthier she’d become.
“I’ll work out,” he said. “Until you’re so light, I can carry you whenever you need it. And we can dance. I’ll hold you up and spin you around.”
She laughed again, fuller this time. “Just don’t get dizzy. You’ll drop me!”
“Slowly, then.”
They quieted. I wondered if their mouths might be otherwise occupied. But from the way I’d overheard Leah and Mr. and Mrs. Green tease Evie, and Mrs. Takahashi interrogate Ren, they weren’t together. Not yet.
Evie nearly whispered. “You really mean it?”
“But not hope to die.”
“Right—not that.”
* * *
Evie worked for years to regain enough dexterity in her fingers to play the piano again. Once she did, though, it didn’t go unnoticed that she’d only had a few lessons in life—certainly not enough to play like a virtuoso. It didn’t take long before the girl who woke up from a coma as a “musical prodigy” began to make headlines. Soon she sold out bookings for private lessons on weekdays and shows at a local jazz club on weekends.
I snuck in to see her, of course, watching from the crowd. It made my dead heart skip a beat to see her in an emerald satin dress, her hair piled high and woven with tiny white flowers. And yet, as far as she’d come, as her fingers thundered on the piano, her voice was wracked with all-too-familiar yearning.
I’d hoped we were all done pretending we didn’t want what we wanted. That wasn’t any way to live.
After the show, I waited for her in the green room. She struggled to get the door open from her wheelchair, so I went to prop it open for her.
“Oh!” she said. “Thank—”
Her eyes widened as she took in my face.
“Mal!”
“Actually, I’m the ghost of unspoken longing.”
I went to the wall where a dry bouquet of blue anemones hung upside down by the vanity mirror, gingerly cradling them as I turned them over to read the attached card aloud.
“Evie, you did it! I won’t say I told you so… but I’m writing it down, winky face. Seriously, though, I’m so grateful to have you in my life. I couldn’t imagine coming back from where we’ve been without you.” My voice caught, unexpectedly, but I managed to carry on. “Love, Ren.”
When I finally looked up, tears filled her eyes. I hadn’t exactly warmed her up. She noticed, giving a sniffly laugh.
“I’m doing wonderfully, thanks,” she said. “And how are you?”
I shrugged. “Still dead.”
She rolled her eyes. “How about this? I’ll be honest if you are.”
I hung the flowers back up and pretended to sit on the vanity table, haloed by the lightbulbs lining the mirror. “I’m not so bad.” Funnily enough, I found I meant it. “We’ve got a new Haunt.”
Her hand went to her heart. “Really?”
“It’s a hotel, lots of space, absolutely horrific and cozy.”
She wheeled closer, laughing. “I wish I could see it.”
“Well, hopefully not anytime soon.”
“Please tell me you’re in the band now, though.”
I grinned so wide, I must’ve looked like a sap, but I didn’t care. “Yeah, yeah.”
We talked for a while about the new Haunt. Danny and Carlos made a proper welcoming party now. I even hoped that Danny might get together with our first new foundling, Terence. That made a natural opportunity to circle back.
“So, uh—” I resisted digging my nails into my palms. “What’s the holdup with Ren?”
Her face shuttered up. “It’s nothing,” she said, too quickly. “I don’t see him that way.”
“Look, I get it. But you’ve got a real tiny dating pool.”
“You mean being disabled?”
“Well, there’s that, but I meant more like… as a medium. As far as we know, you’re the only ones. Or at least, the only two who talk to each other. You share something maybe nobody else on earth does.”
She blinked, going quiet for a moment, like she’d never considered that. She still stuttered in protest, “That’s not all it takes.”
“Then it’s a good thing you’re both hard to kill, and still kind in spite of all the knocks you’ve taken. Not to mention really hot.”
Her cheeks darkened, but she smiled, not looking away. “You think so?”
Since she’d gotten older, and owned all her years now, I went ahead and bit my lip. “I mean, if I had a body…”
I meant to joke, keep it light, but she saw right through it. Her smile didn’t last long, trembling on the edge of a frown. “It’s not fair to you.”
“You saw him first. Besides, I’m dead. Who cares about me?”
“I do,” she said. “And so does Ren.”
That ached more than I would’ve thought. I nearly gave it away on my face.
“We still talk about you all the time,” she said.
“What a mood killer.”
She gave a slight sigh of admission. “A bit.”
“I’ve heard the way he talks to you, not to mention about you,” I said. “You’re his next love.”
Her voice faltered as she looked away. “I couldn’t.”
I got up, looming over her. “Come on, I didn’t save your lives for you to waste them.”
She looked warily up at me. “You really wouldn’t mind?”
“Do you think I haven’t been messing around myself?”
“That’s not an answer.”
Now I had to look away. If I were going to convince her, then I had to hide how much I did mind. But my love for them outweighed how much it would hurt.
“It will be worth it,” I said, turning back to her, trying to smile away the tears in my eyes. “Seeing you both alive, and sharing your lives. You might even make some more.”
Her eyes blew wide. “Good grief.”
I couldn’t help but rub it in. “Promise you’ll name one after me.”
She laughed. “Only if you promise to shut up about it.”
Her laughter went quiet, but her shoulders still shook. I leaned down and tried my best to put my arms around her.
“I wish you were here,” she said.
It hurt to let go. And yet, it felt like I’d lingered too long already. As I pulled away, I pressed my lips to her brow, looking into her face and doing my best to smile.