and walked over to where Elsbeth was pointing. The candlestick blow that felled Charlie was being credited to the 83 year old Grandmother. Evidently that same blow broke the chain around Charlie’s neck. On the ground was a small diamond solitaire. “Here, this is Elsbeth’s anchor - the object she is connected to; if we take it to her grave site we can release her.”
A familiar jolt of pain coursed through my back. “Damn, that stings!”
“I want to stay and watch over her. I can pass on later.”
“Some warning would be nice,” I muttered back at Elsbeth. “Fine, if that’s what you want – stay. Here, if you keep this around, Elsbeth will stay and keep you company.”
Megan sniffled for a moment before clearing her throat. “Thank you very much, Mr. Ross. Now would you be a dear and run down to the market and pick up some groceries for me? I have a list.”
The store was only about a half mile walk; I sighed and took the list and a pair of twenties from her.
And that’s how I ‘got’ Grandma Meg as a fixture in my life – most guys my age were accumulating children and debt, me, I was picking up grannies and ghosts. Go figure.
Episode 4: Battling with Bitches
I never thought I’d be walking a blind preacher around my house and yard on a chilly November Saturday while he does a “proper” blessing of the house, but I’ve learned to be flexible. Eight weeks ago, religion didn’t have a place in my life. Then again, back in September, I didn’t have my own personal window into the afterlife. Trailing after Brother Silas felt as odd and out of place as the small brand-new silver cross around my neck, but as I just said, I was becoming more open minded.
Regardless of my estrangement from organized religion, I knew I needed back-up. The ghost of Darren Porter kindly pointed this fact out right before a bona fide Civil War hero ran him through with a cavalry saber. Even in the afterlife, that had to hurt!
Unfortunately, Darren didn’t really have the time to clarify exactly what “protections” were available and where one goes to acquire such things. Since Wal-Mart didn’t have a supernatural section, I figured that the “traditional” method was a good place to start, considering some of the bizarre suggestions on the Internet. Although wrapping the house in a layer of tin foil might give it a certain festive look - I decided on something a little less geeky.
Brother Silas Parker seemed to be enjoying the cold more than I was. I hadn’t felt a true winter in several years between the desert in Iraq and the sweltering temperatures of Army bases in Texas and Georgia. Frankly, I hadn’t missed it. My companion’s body, though not quite sixty, showed the ravages of illness and time. Even so, Brother Silas possessed a wry humor and pleasant demeanor that said a great deal about the man’s character.
“So, do you reckon this is going to work?”
The blind man didn’t move his head in my direction. “I think it will, if you have faith, Mike. Do you believe?”
There’s the rub. I was still a bit of a cynic. It’s hard to believe in a higher power when you’ve had a pretty crappy life, but I couldn’t really whine too much about unfairness to a man who’d lost both eyes to the Viet Cong now, could I?
“Fortunately, I’ve prepared a test.” I waved over to the ghost pacing around on the street. Elsbeth Snowden was a slender woman, just a few years older than me, pretty enough to date, barring the slight problem of her being dead, married, and the trivial fact that I’d just helped put her husband in jail for assault and attempted murder, pending his day in court. Beyond that, we’d make a perfect couple.
Our not-quite-friendship was interesting: she watched over her aging grandmother and I was her errand boy. Still, she’d helped me pick up some pocket money and Grandma Meg was enjoyable enough.
Elsbeth tried to approach, but was stopped right
A familiar jolt of pain coursed through my back. “Damn, that stings!”
“I want to stay and watch over her. I can pass on later.”
“Some warning would be nice,” I muttered back at Elsbeth. “Fine, if that’s what you want – stay. Here, if you keep this around, Elsbeth will stay and keep you company.”
Megan sniffled for a moment before clearing her throat. “Thank you very much, Mr. Ross. Now would you be a dear and run down to the market and pick up some groceries for me? I have a list.”
The store was only about a half mile walk; I sighed and took the list and a pair of twenties from her.
And that’s how I ‘got’ Grandma Meg as a fixture in my life – most guys my age were accumulating children and debt, me, I was picking up grannies and ghosts. Go figure.
Episode 4: Battling with Bitches
I never thought I’d be walking a blind preacher around my house and yard on a chilly November Saturday while he does a “proper” blessing of the house, but I’ve learned to be flexible. Eight weeks ago, religion didn’t have a place in my life. Then again, back in September, I didn’t have my own personal window into the afterlife. Trailing after Brother Silas felt as odd and out of place as the small brand-new silver cross around my neck, but as I just said, I was becoming more open minded.
Regardless of my estrangement from organized religion, I knew I needed back-up. The ghost of Darren Porter kindly pointed this fact out right before a bona fide Civil War hero ran him through with a cavalry saber. Even in the afterlife, that had to hurt!
Unfortunately, Darren didn’t really have the time to clarify exactly what “protections” were available and where one goes to acquire such things. Since Wal-Mart didn’t have a supernatural section, I figured that the “traditional” method was a good place to start, considering some of the bizarre suggestions on the Internet. Although wrapping the house in a layer of tin foil might give it a certain festive look - I decided on something a little less geeky.
Brother Silas Parker seemed to be enjoying the cold more than I was. I hadn’t felt a true winter in several years between the desert in Iraq and the sweltering temperatures of Army bases in Texas and Georgia. Frankly, I hadn’t missed it. My companion’s body, though not quite sixty, showed the ravages of illness and time. Even so, Brother Silas possessed a wry humor and pleasant demeanor that said a great deal about the man’s character.
“So, do you reckon this is going to work?”
The blind man didn’t move his head in my direction. “I think it will, if you have faith, Mike. Do you believe?”
There’s the rub. I was still a bit of a cynic. It’s hard to believe in a higher power when you’ve had a pretty crappy life, but I couldn’t really whine too much about unfairness to a man who’d lost both eyes to the Viet Cong now, could I?
“Fortunately, I’ve prepared a test.” I waved over to the ghost pacing around on the street. Elsbeth Snowden was a slender woman, just a few years older than me, pretty enough to date, barring the slight problem of her being dead, married, and the trivial fact that I’d just helped put her husband in jail for assault and attempted murder, pending his day in court. Beyond that, we’d make a perfect couple.
Our not-quite-friendship was interesting: she watched over her aging grandmother and I was her errand boy. Still, she’d helped me pick up some pocket money and Grandma Meg was enjoyable enough.
Elsbeth tried to approach, but was stopped right
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