Chapter Eight

About an hour later, Mel called Becker in from playing with Mumford and asked Dougal and Mikey if they could bring Eileen in for something she wanted to try. Well, she didn’t want to try it, but it might be the only way they could find out what had happened, and maybe give Eileen the freedom to leave this plane, if that was what she wanted to do.

Unlike when the guys had tried to conjure a spirit without setting up any protection, Mel had spent the last sixty minutes warding everything she could think of. Mrs. Hatchett had emerged from the kitchen to direct, and several other women had all clustered around, throwing out instructions. Mel finally had to ask them to back off or every single strand of carpet would have been marked with a symbol. There was no time for that.

Dougal came in first when she asked him to bring Eileen with him. Eileen was next, and then a ghost Mel didn’t know. Did she have another new visitor to figure out? Seriously, this was totally getting out of hand.

But then the ghost smiled. And though the teeth were still all broken in his mouth, Mikey had spiffed up considerably. His hair was trimmed, his fingers clean, his face shaved. Had someone helped him with all this grooming, or had he done it himself? And why had he done it now?

The answer to that was the way Eileen turned back to make sure he was floating in behind her. It was sweet, it was lovely, and Mel hoped it didn’t break Mikey’s dead heart if she was not all the things he thought she was.

Time to get this thing started.

“So if you’ll all come in, we can get rolling.” Mel stood in the center of the parlor, where her mom had led her through the procedure. They’d also brought in Jackson Elliott Farmington the Fourth, who had been a regression therapist before he fell off a bridge trying to coax a bird out of a tree. It hadn’t actually been a bird, for real, but a woman who thought she had lived a previous life as Marie Antoinette. She’d been so afraid people weren’t going to eat cake and would instead take her head from her body that she’d climbed into a tree next to the bridge. The woman lived to be ninety, running a shelter for battered women, while Jackson died that day, on the rocks below the bridge, after stretching out too far and only grazing her hand instead of gripping her tight enough to bring her in.

That was about all Mel knew of his story. It fascinated her, but she’d never taken the time to find out more, if he’d even tell her. Maybe it was time to do that, to figure out more than the line in the big book of the dead existing here with her. She didn’t have to ask why anyone had chosen to stay. She’d learned that lesson. Finding out more about each one could only help her. And maybe them.

“Don’t break concentration while they’re doing this, Mel, my love.” Her mom stood next to her in the parlor. “I see that frown on your forehead. You’ve done everything you can. You need to be careful. You’re working with what you know is a good ghost, and what you hope is a good ghost, but you have to be ready in case something happens.”

“I know. I just feel bad that I didn’t even know this person was here. We have hundreds of ghosts here. It’s sad to think I barely know about any of them. I feel like I’ve been asleep myself for years.”

“You’ve had a lot going on. A lot to work through. I know you’ve appreciated me being here, but I’m not really here, and you were left on your own to survive at a young age. I’ll never get over that loss. I’m so sorry.”

“I wish I could hug you.” Mel held back the tears as best she could.

“You can. In your heart you can hug me all you want. I know it’s not the same, but it can be enough.”

“It is, Mom. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I’m ungrateful. I’m just realizing how little I know about all this. I thought I’d done a good job keeping things running around here, and making it safe for everyone, but maybe I missed something by not opening myself totally to the experience.”

She definitely felt her mom stroke her hair this time, pressure just like when she was a small child with a skinned knee from jumping around the mangled remains of a playhouse with a little girl ghost.

“I love you, sweetie, and you’re opening up now. Maybe this is the time. We all have capabilities we don’t always use. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. Sometimes the timing is crucial.”

Mel was going to go with that and be happy with it. She didn’t want to think that she’d been hiding this whole time. She hadn’t been, not really. Like a flower in the spring, she’d been blossoming under the soil, getting ready to poke her head out. This was her springtime, and she yearned for the sunshine. When they were done here, she was going to make sure Becker knew exactly how much she loved him and how much he meant to her. They lived together, and she’d been open with him on many things, but she realized there was still a part of her waiting for him to leave, and that was cheating both of them.

Jackson got ready as Mel was having her epiphany.

“We will begin now, yes?” he said from a chair she’d moved out from the wall. He wanted the experience to feel like real people doing real things. She’d been all too happy to accommodate him. Eileen lay on a chaise lounge, with Mikey sitting on the floor next to her head, within arm’s reach. Every few seconds she would reach over and graze his now-smooth face. That could mean all the difference to the new ghost, to have a connection.

“Let us begin.” Jackson perched on the edge of his chair, his monocle seated in his left eye. “You will move back through time, through space, and will remember all things. There is nothing that can hurt you anymore, no sadness, no pain that can touch you. There is only life and the ability to see. The ability to tell us what happened to you, so that we may find you and give you a proper burial. Now, where are you?”

“I’m in the dark. So dark.” With her eyes closed, she reached out to Mikey, who was right there. As their fingers brushed through each other, a spark of light ignited, then faded.

“Can you go back farther? Go back to hopscotch with the children whom you are watching. Go back to the pleasure before we move forward again to the darkness. Where do you live?”

“Eighty-Nine Sycamore.”

Right down the street from Mrs. F. Was that why she had recognized her and started screaming?

“Is Eighty-Nine Sycamore a good place? Is it happy?” Jackson’s tone had mellowed to almost a low song, lulling her to sleep, lulling her back.

Heck, it almost lulled Mel to do the same thing. Becker came up and put a hand on her shoulder, grounding her.

“Yes, it’s good to be home. Mom makes the best chocolate chip cheesecake for special occasions and likes to entertain as often as possible. I pretend not to like it, but really I do. I want to fit in with my friends, who all seem to hate their parents, and I want to do teenage things, but I’m just not built like that. So I make cheesecake with my mom and spend as much time with her as possible.”

Mel watched as a smile lit Eileen’s face. The spark got brighter where her fingers touched Mikey’s.

“This is good. Now move forward. What do you do?”

“I babysit for money. I like the kids, and their parents are always super nice about making sure the food I like is in the refrigerator when I come over. They like that I play with the kids instead of watching TV the whole time. They tell their friends, and then I’m booked up a lot. I wish I had more time to watch my favorite shows, but maybe I can save up and get a VCR so I can tape everything. They’re mega-expensive, but it would be a nice gift for my mom and dad, too.”

“This is also good. Now move forward.”

“I have a boyfriend. He’s nice. I’m at college but home on spring break and watching the kids. After I got home, all I could think about was going out with him. He’s taking me to dinner.”

“Dinner was nice. I can tell from the smile on your face. Did you go home that night?”

“Of course. My parents wait up for me so they know I’m safe.” Her forehead crinkled. “I’m normally safe. But my car broke. Something is wrong.”

Mel stood in the doorway, watching Eileen cringe on the couch as she replayed the memories, and she wanted to stop her. Did she die in a car accident? Did her car go off the road and no one ever found her? Mel stepped forward to stop the regression. Jackson looked at her and shook his head.

“This has to happen,” he said quietly.

“My car breaks, and I don’t see a pay phone. I’m going to have to walk, but that’s okay. It’s not far.”

“And move forward.” Jackson leaned in.

“It hurts. My chest feels like it’s on fire.” She began coughing and shaking like she was actually living the moment. Mel couldn’t stop herself from running over.

Mikey put up his hand, and it was if an invisible shield kept Mel back. Not that she could have physically done anything, since they were all ghosts, but the pain in the room was almost too much to bear.

“Please stop this, Jackson,” Mel pleaded

“It’s gone too far. I can’t help her unless we get to the part where her spirit separates from her body.”

Tears made warm tracks down Mel’s face. She turned into Becker’s arms and buried her face into his chest, felt him breathing, and was calmed. The girl was already dead. There was nothing that would bring her back, but Mel would be damned if she didn’t find out who did this to a young woman whose biggest wish was to buy a VCR—and instead she died. But from what?

“What happens next?” Jackson asked.

Eileen flinched on the couch, her color going from gray to almost invisible.

“Hold her, Mikey. She’s almost there. If we lose her now, I might not be able to get her back. She’ll be lost between worlds.”

“Stay with me,” Mikey begged quietly. “It’s never easy to remember your death, but it’s important, so you can be free. I was homeless with no one to care. Someone stole my watch and my coat and then kicked me so hard I died. They left me there until someone else found me by accident. No one paid to bury me, so I got put into a pauper’s grave with pennies over my eyes.”

“I can’t. I can’t relive it. It hurts.”

“You can. I know you can. You’re strong. Stay with me.”

A moment later her color came back up, and Mel vowed then and there to find out who had done what to her and who had hurt Mikey. Vengeance might not be possible, but finding her body and putting her to rest would go a long way toward making this right. And as for Mikey, she would get those pennies and polish them until they shone. He deserved that and so much more.

She had no idea how she was going to make it all happen, but something would come to her.

“Why does your chest feel like it’s on fire, Eileen?” Jackson asked.

Through the front window, Mel witnessed a fire erupting on the small square of grass she jokingly called her front lawn in this dirt-packed junkyard. What the hell?

Every living thing ran outside, along with several of the ghosts.

“Fire extinguisher!” Mel yelled.

“I already have it.” Becker handed her the red canister. Quickly, she used it to spray the small fire, trying to spot any other blazes, or if it had spread anywhere else. Flames were a major concern out here. If things burned, ghosts would be displaced.

In only a few moments the fire was out. Mel looked around, just in case anything else was aflame. Where had it come from? It had been easy enough to put out. She wasn’t complaining, but something felt wrong.

“You don’t think we have someone here trying to take over your operation again, do you?” Becker asked. “I put that fire extinguisher in the front closet just in case of something like this.”

Mel kissed him hard, then looked at the scorched patch of grass again. “I have no idea, but I am so pissed right now that anyone who wants a piece of me had better be ready to have their asses handed to them.” Looking around one more time, she was satisfied at not seeing anything else aflame. “Why does stuff like this keep happening? And how does a fire just ignite on its own? I need a cookie.”

They all trooped back into the house. Mel ducked her head into the parlor just to make sure they hadn’t lost Eileen to the space between worlds when they’d all run out. But she and Mikey sat quietly talking on the couch. Jackson watched the interchange but had stopped the questions for the moment.

“We’ll be right back,” she said to him.

“No rush. She’s not going anywhere just yet. She has a connection, and that can be just as good as an object.”

Mel saluted him before walking through to the kitchen. Mrs. Hatchett was just going to have to be okay with giving up some of her sugary booty.

“I’ll get the milk,” Becker offered and took down the cookie jar after retrieving the plastic container of yummy goodness. “Mrs. Hatchett, do you mind if we have a few cookies?” he asked politely.

“Of course not, my dear boy. As long as Mel plans on making more, the cookies are always yours to have. I like the smell, they make me feel homey, but I wouldn’t want them to go stale.” She even smiled at him.

Mel stood with her hands on the hips of her frilly skirt and her mouth hanging wide open. “Why is it that he can have cookies, but I get the evil eye every time I reach in?” So unfair.

“Becker asks nicely and is gentle. You bump around here like you’re in some kind of race. Take moments, sweet Mel, not leaps.”

Scolded by a ghost. Next thing she knew she’d have a parade of them telling her all the things she did wrong on a daily basis.

Mel flounced out of the kitchen, cookie in hand, and decided she would not return until much later. If she was gentle with the cookie container, it would be because she wanted to be, not because she’d just been shamed by an apparition.

“You know she just does that to you because she can, right?” Becker munched on his own cookie. “If you didn’t react to her, she’d be far more cordial.”

Mel laughed. “I’m aware of that, but it’s a game we’ve played for years. I can’t imagine being all nice to her all the time. It makes her happy to scold, and I provide that opportunity. So we’re both happy. If I don’t make it look good, though, she’ll catch on to the fact that I’m not really mad.”

“Cheeky.”

“Smart.”

“And cheeky and lovely.” He leaned in for a kiss, and she stole his other cookie.

“Let’s go see what everyone is up to. Maybe we can get some more info and then make some decisions. I’m feeling the need to find the people who hurt Mikey and Eileen and kick some ass.”

“You don’t want to go to jail. What would we all do without you?” Becker said.

She was still laughing when she walked into the parlor to see what everyone was up to. Only she found Eileen standing in her catatonic state again, her whole body drooping, her eyes lost, and her glow fading.