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Chapter Eleven
Warming It Up
"She's dying, for God's sake. What can we do?" Allen spoke to Bob the No Irony ghost. Allen's voice was panicked and beseeching.
Bob shrugged his shoulders and looked apologetic. "There's not much you can do really...I'm sorry." The ghost's hands hung in midair like tiny clouds.
Up above, Allen heard the patrol officer's voice speaking into his hand-held. "I said, I followed her here but I don't see anyone. I need some backup. Who's in the area?"
Allen ran back up the steps. He was dead and he knew that now. He knew he couldn't effect change in the physical world. Or at least much change. He approached the young cop and lightly touched the tip of the radio antenna. The radio snarled and crackled with the garbled voice of the dispatcher.
"You're breaking up," the young cop said urgently. "I'll change my location."
As the cop moved away from the water's edge, Allen covered more of the antenna with his hand. "It's getting worse. I'll move back toward the water." And as he did, Allen gradually let go. The radio reception became better and better as Allen moved away from the radio until finally he had led the young cop to the bullrail.
"I'm two minutes out. Do you copy?" A man's voice cut through as clear as a hymn.
"Finally," the young cop huffed. "You're coming in fine from here..." and his voice trailed off. The cop looked down at the bullrail and saw a long strand of dark, curly hair snagged in a timber and down in the bay he saw the last of the weak bubbles tiredly breaking the surface. "Oh my goodness," he said, putting the radio down, then diving off the dock.
"This is so cool!" Bob the No Irony ghost said, standing beside Allen who was staring down into the water where the two young people had disappeared.
"I don't really see this kind of stuff very often," the ghost said, watching the water churn black then white. "And I've been dead a long time."
The young cop came to the surface with a sputtering Willa in his arms and pulled her to the float. Allen ran to her and put his unsubstantial hands against her flesh. He moved in to kiss her, but he was beaten to it by the young cop who pressed his lips against Willa's.
From the dock, Bob the No Irony ghost chuckled and gestured to where another police officer was frisking the whining Pietro as Cindy sobbed in the back of the police car.
Final Chapter
The Bottomless Cup Is Always Empty
Allen's friends and family had gathered to lay a stone with his name on it out in the cove where Allen had liked to go and picnic. Being dead had not prevented Allen from attending.Allen and Bob the No Irony ghost sat on a drift log. Willa walked by with her arm draped over Allen's little sister. She was speaking to the girl with a comforting voice.
"Cindy had gone to his apartment to get his yearbook."
"His yearbook? Why?" Allen's sister asked.
"Well..." Willa paused, considering how much to tell the young girl. "When they had graduated, Cindy had written: 'To Allen, a real guy. Love ya. Cindy.'"
"So?" the girl curled her nose.
"So, I guess that was too much commitment for Cindy." Willa smiled lovingly at the girl then looked away. "Anyway, she went there to get the yearbook and she ended up beating his brains out with a tire iron."
The little girl pushed a stone with her toe. "Relationships are weird," she said finally, and Willa laughed.
Allen's dad finished placing the stone up under the old trees on the beach fringe. His family stood silently and looked at the letters of his name. Willa stood next to the young patrol officer and squeezed his hand. Allen shifted on the log. The young cop put his arm around Willa as she started to cry.
"So," Allen asked Bob the No Irony ghost "how do I become completely dead?"
"I told you. You have to prove your love for the deserving spirits."
"How can I prove it to them now?"
"I didn't say you had to prove it to them."
"Well..." Allen stammered and walked to where his parents stood around the stone and to where Willa leaned against the young patrol officer. "All I want..." Allen said to the old ghost, "...all I want is for them to feel beloved on this earth." Allen paused, listening to the water curling on the stones and the broken flute of a living eagle in the spruce tree. Then he continued. "And I want them not to worry." Allen reached out his hand to his grieving parents and when he touched them he could feel their spirits rise.
"That's it," Bob the No Irony ghost said, and he hopped off the log.
"What do you mean, 'That's it?'" Allen asked.
"I mean, 'That's it'. Now they know you love them and they can continue loving you even if your skinny little butt isn't around. That's all there is."
"You mean I'm really dead now?" Allen asked with excitement.
"No. Not quite yet," the ghost said. "Have a cup of coffee."
Allen took the heavy white mug and drank for the first time since death. The coffee was wonderful, thick and dark. And as he drank, he felt the world fall away as the spirits of everyone he ever loved swirled like a mist around him, and for once he understood everything, everything. The End
Back
"So," Allen asked Bob the No Irony ghost "how do I become completely dead?"
"I told you. You have to prove your love for the deserving spirits."
"How can I prove it to them now?"
"I didn't say you had to prove it to them."
"Well..." Allen stammered and walked to where his parents stood around the stone and to where Willa leaned against the young patrol officer. "All I want..." Allen said to the old ghost, "...all I want is for them to feel beloved on this earth." Allen paused, listening to the water curling on the stones and the broken flute of a living eagle in the spruce tree. Then he continued. "And I want them not to worry." Allen reached out his hand to his grieving parents and when he touched them he could feel their spirits rise.
"That's it," Bob the No Irony ghost said, and he hopped off the log.
"What do you mean, 'That's it?'" Allen asked.
"I mean, 'That's it'. Now they know you love them and they can continue loving you even if your skinny little butt isn't around. That's all there is."
"You mean I'm really dead now?" Allen asked with excitement.
"No. Not quite yet," the ghost said. "Have a cup of coffee."
Allen took the heavy white mug and drank for the first time since death. The coffee was wonderful, thick and dark. And as he drank, he felt the world fall away as the spirits of everyone he ever loved swirled like a mist around him, and for once he understood everything, everything. The End
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Art © Ray Troll
Deadman's Reach Novelette © John Straley
All of our brand names, images and text are protected
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Deadman's Reach Novelette © John Straley
All of our brand names, images and text are protected
by trademarks, registered trademarks, copyrights and attack-dogs with law degrees.
