by Smitty
I wandered into the library, hoping to find a quiet place to read. No such luck. Terry was attacking the room with a feather duster, a petulent look on her face.
"Hey, Ter. Not too thrilled 'bout your role in 'The Norton Game'?"
"The bloody BASTARD!" she exploded. "Givin' James idas like that! Havin' 'im make b'lieve we're married! Of all the bloody nerve!..." She kept going, but something else had caught my attention. Something written in the thick layer of dust coating the coffee table in front of the couch. I leaned closer.
GO AWAY !
I blinked at it, and it didn't disappear.
"Hey, Terry, come look at this!"
She stormed over, swiping at random things with her feather duster.
"Of all the thoughtless...What'd ye find? Another stack of bloody dust?"
"No, wait!" But it was gone. Message, dust and all, in one fell swoop of the feather duster.
"What?"
I sighed. "There was something written in the dust. I think if said Go Away." Terry looked at me sympathetically.
"'Twas probably just Tabitha playin' around," she said, patting my shoulder.
"Yeah. Probably..."
Two days later, I wasn't too sure about that.
I thought I heard someone in the kitchen. I went in to grab something to eat with whoever it was. There was no one there. Correction, there was someone there, but there were invisible. This was obvious by the box of PopTarts floating in the air next to the closet. I don't know if you can sneak up on a ghost, but that was certainly what I tried to do. And I think I might have touched it. Just for a moment, just for a split second, I thought I felt something solid under my fingertips, and then I fell to the floor with a thud. PopTarts started flying through the air, spinning above my head. I scrambled up and watched the PopTarts launch themselves across the kitchen, like a very large, sugary version of Gambit's playing cards, and slip into the living room.
"Hey! Ow!"
"Are those...?"
"What the hell's going on in here!" The last one was Cable. He stormed into the kitchen just as I was picking up the empty PopTarts box from the floor. "Rictor! What are you doing throwing PopTarts into the living room? If you have all that much aggression, we do have a Danger Room for crying out loud! You're restricted to quarters until furthur notice. Get upstairs!" I opened my mouth to argue with him. "And I don't want to hear any of that 'ghost' baloney!" he interrupted. "Just go!" I went. I stomped up to my room and slammed the door behind me. I threw myself on the bed and glared at the ceiling. And then it occurred to me. I just got sent to my room. Cable just sent me to my room. It didn't improve my mood any. I closed my eyes and sighed. There was a soft breeze, but...a soft breeze? But there were no open windows...
"I know you're here," I announced. "I can't see you and I can't hear you, but I know you're here. You're just trying to make me look stupid." Nothing. "I know you exist. I saw you. I watched the books fall. I know it was you who changed the temperature on the stove. I saw the message in the dust." I glared around the room. "I don't know what the deal was with the Pop Tarts, but I caught it on that one, too." I folded my arms behind my head and scowled. "So what's the deal, sweetheart? Why're you trying to make my life a living hell?" I didn't get an answer. I didn't really expect one, but it would have been nice. "You know all my friends think I'm nuts." Time for a little sympathy. "They don't trust me anymore. And it's all your fault. I'm not even sure if they are my friends anymore." I sighed dramatically.
"Well, now, that's your problem. Not mine." My eyes flew open and I shot up off the bed. Elena, or whoever she was, was standing at the foot of the bed, one hand on her hip. She shrugged at me, raising one eyebrow, right before she faded from sight.
"Elena?" I reached for her, but my hand just slipped through air. I was rewarded with a very real slap in the face.
"Hands off the merchandise, cowboy," I heard faintly. And then I knew she was gone. I don't know how I knew, but I just...knew.
"Jimmy!" Jimmy looked up from his magazine.
"The prison guards released you?"
"No, I broke out. C'mon, I need--"
"You're an escaped convict. I'm sure Cable--"
"Shut up, Jimmy. I need some info."
"Info on what?"
"Ghosts. Spirits. You know all that stuff."
"I might have a book on it somewhere." I stared at him, exasperated.
"C'mon. Rain gods?"
"Why are you bringing Rahne into this? You know, maybe you should do that. She's very ...spiritual..." Spiritual. Hmmmm...
"Never mind."
I wandered outside to deal with the problem on my own and threw myself down on the nearest deck chair. This was incredible. I was being run out of my own headquarters by a ghost. This was so whacked.
"Hellooo?" I looked up. A small, round woman was peering over the fence. I stood up and walked over. She was about five feet tall, just about as wide, and had a round, friendly face. Her hair was in curlers, and she was wearing a ratty housecoat and worn bedroom slippers. "Now, which one are you? Are you Ben?" Oh, this must be that Mrs. Norton woman. "I'm Madge Norton. I live right next door." I wasn't supposed to know English, was I?
"Buenos dios, senora," I tried.
"Oh! You're the Mexican boarder! Julio, right!" I fought the urge to remind her that only my mother called me Julio, but then I remembered that I couldn't understand a word she said, so I just looked at her blankly.
"Si. Julio." She beamed. Damn.
"Oh, if only I spoke Spanish! When my dear, departed husband Ned--" she paused to sigh and genuflect, just like Tabby had done, "--was in the Navy, he could speak a little Spanish but I don't know more than a few words. Um...let me think of some. Oh, agua! When my little girl used to watch Sesame Street, they used to say agua for water all the time!" This woman was so clueless...
"Buenos dios, senora," I said, again, making a beeline for the house. I caught Tabby just inside the door. "That woman is weird!" I told her, grabbing her arm.
"What happened? You meet Madge Norton?" I nodded. "Did you have to talk to her?"
"I said, 'Buenos Dios, senora'. That was it. Honest."
"Ok, ok." A slow grin spread over her face. "Toldja she was scary."
"I had no idea."
"Did she tell you any more about the ghost?"
"I didn't ask. And I'm not going back out there."
"Don't worry. You don't speak English, anyway."
"That's right. I don't." I stared at Tabby. "Hey, Tab? Have you ever had a seance?"
"We must join hands and become one with the otherworld." Tabitha closed her eyes and started humming. She reached out with both hands. I took one and 'Star took the other. Terry rolled her eyes and took both our hands. Tab sat at the head of the table, head swathed in a purple bathtowel. "We wish to speak to Elena..."
"Donnae ye know 'er last name?"
"Teresa, silence is necessary." Terry gave 'Star a dirty look.
"Well how d'ye know which Elena yer callin' up?"
"If her ghost's still floatin' 'round here, she'll figure it's her," Tabby shot back, cracking one eyelid. "Now shuddup." Terry rolled her eyes and shut up. "Elena..." she intoned. "Speak to us...speak to those who remember your story..."
"What does wearin' a towel on yuir head have t'do with it?"
"All mediums have turbans. Now be quiet." Tabby moaned low in her throat. It sounded kinda like a sick cat. "Elena...if you are here, give us a sign. Speak to us..." Nothing happened. "Yo, Elena, chickie, you got about two minutes before we come out with the big guns." Nothing happened. "Alright. Ric, the Ouija board!" I brought the Ouija board out from under the table.
"Ach, this is ridiculous!"
"There is a disbeliever in our midst!" I coulda told you that. "Any who do not believe in the carriage of spirits to the otherworld and their retention in this world, be gone and eschew your jinx from our presence!" I stared at Tabby. Where'd she learn all those big words?
"Well then, I'll be seein' ye," Terry said happily, dropping my hand and booking out of the room.
"Ah, the aura is once more cleansed." I sat the Ouija board on the table and set up the little stand. We put our fingers on it and waited until we felt something. "Hey, it's moving!" Tabby exclaimed, forgetting her mystic impression. "What's it spelling?" We watched it slide around the board. "Yeah, it definitely stopped on G. Is that an R?"
"No, it's still sliding around. E. It stopped on E. Get a piece of paper and write this down." Tabby and I followed the letters around the board until the stand hovered over the 'Goodbye' and settled. We looked back at the piece of paper. On it was clearly printed:
"Get a life."