I wanted to take us from the sadness last night to an exotic locale. I got a little caught up in reading about the world’s largest cemetery in Najaf, Iraq. I’m actually still reading about it because its recent history (it’s been an active cemetery for more than 1600 years) is fascinating. But enough of that, let’s focus in on one of the newest gravediggers working…

Talib stared across the sand dotted in regular intervals with squat marble memorials. He wiped his brow and drank deeply from the warm water bottle as his gaze kept traveling to the Old Cemetery whose closly-packed memorials of varying heights stretched out to the shimmering horizon. 

“Talib!” his father snapped, “Break time is over! We have five more graves to dig today.” He picked up the small stubby-handle shovel used to cut the bottom and tossed it to Talib. “Down you go,” he gestured to the hole in the desert just four feet deep. “Let’s get moving!”

“Ibrahim, why are so short with Talib. He hasn’t been working with us but a week!” intervened my uncle Fadhil. 

“And how else is he supposed to learn discipline, Fadhil? Hmm? There are thousands of boys his age in Najef who would happily join us!”

Fadhill laughed. “Idle threats, Fadhil.” He turned to me, “Pay him no mind, Talib. Our father brought the lash to Fadhil when we first started digging with him in Wadi Al-Salam. I think he’s passing on that tradition with a little too much vigor!”

“You mock, Ibrahim, but he needs to respect this profession. Don’t forget what happened to Samer.”

Fadhil flinched at the name. He took a moment to recover himself before responding, “You always bring up Samer as a warning, but never in remembrance.”

“Samer?” Talib asked. “Uncle Samer? He died during the fighting, didn’t he?”

“Yes,” Fadhil said with a heavy sigh. “The Americans were fighting Moqtada al-Sadr and his militia. The Old Cemetery saw some of the heaviest fighting. Al-Sadr claimed to be defending the Shrine of Imam Ali,” he shook his head, “They just wanted to fight. We stayed out. All of the gravediggers did. Except your uncle. A family offered him a week’s pay. We told him it wasn’t worth it. He… wouldn’t listen.”

“And what happened, Fadhil? Tell him what happened?” 

“During the funeral an American helicopter mistook the gathering for Al-Sadr’s people. They opened fire.”

“This, Talib!” his father said picking up his own shovel, “This is why we learn the importance of working hard – not taking higher pay that will get you killed.” He moved towards Talib and held out his hand, “Now, get down in there.”

Talib took his father’s hand and steadied himself as he leapt into the shallow grave and started digging the hard, packed earth.

“You’re one to talk about not taking higher pay!” Now it was Fadhill’s turn to go on the offensive. “We should be in the Old Cemetery still where we’ve worked for generations. Instead, we’re out here in New Wadi Al-Salam.” Fadhill started shoveling out the sand Talib cut. 

“Why aren’t we in the Old Cemetery, father?” Talib asked as he dug. 

“Less talking, more digging! Five more graves today, Talib!” Ibrahim said as he cleared the top of the grave to keep the loose dirt from caving in.

“New Wadi Al-Salam is for victims of the coronavirus,” Fadhill explained. “No one wants their loved ones buried in the Old Cemetery next to a coronavirus victim, so the government started this,” he gestured to the regularly spaced memorials. “None of the other gravediggers wanted to work here,” he said, “So your father made a deal.”

“That’s funny, Fadhill, I see you spending your money, not complaining about it.” 

Fadhill laughed. “Talib, I hope Allah spared you your father’s disposition.” 

“Five more graves!” Ibrahim snapped.

When the shadow cast by the setting sun darkened the bottom of the last grave, the cool shade made Talib shiver in his sweat-soaked dishdasha.

“It is time to go,” Ibrahim said to his brother. 

“We still have to finish this grave,” he responded. 

Ibrahim offered him a hand to help him up the stubby ladder out of the grave, “Talib can finish.”

“Brother, do you think that’s a good idea?” 

“He will be fine. Won’t you, boy?”

Talib knew his father was punishing him for his Uncle’s ribbing earlier. He also knew better than to contradict him now. “Yes, father, it’s fine.” 

“It will be dark soon. Let’s help Talib finish and we can get out of here before… before it gets dark.” 

“Dark?” Talib said, the chill he felt now seemed deeper than his clammy clothes.

“Then he has incentive to finish faster, don’t you, Talib?”

He swallowed his fear and said, “Yes, father.” 

“Finish it properly, Talib. Do not disrespect our proud legacy.” Then to Fadhill, “Let’s go.” Ibrahim started walking towards town. “Fadhill, are you coming?”

Fadhill gave Talib a final look. “Finish quickly, Talib. Get out before dark.” Then he hurried to catch up with his brother.

Without his father and uncle, the last foot of the grave took seemingly forever. He’d turned on the battery-powered lantern and cursed a minor cave-in. By the time he finished and measured to make sure the grave was the proper depth, the sun had long since set and the glow of his lantern spilling out of the open grave was the only light in the new sprawling cemetery. 

He set the lantern above the lip of the grave and carefully climbed up the worn wooden ladder. He remembered his father lecturing him about how his father’s-father’s-father had built the ladder and we had to honor their work. He sighed as he lay on his stomach and pulled the ladder up out of the grave and piled the shovels on top before tying them to the ladder making an easier-to-carry bundle. As he stood and looked around, he admired the silver light the gibbous crescent moon shining on the white marble memorials all around him. His lantern seemed almost garish next to that lunar reflection, so he turned it off stowed it in a baggy pocket. He hefted the ladder and shovels and started down the row between graves when he noticed a light along the rows to his right. 

The light came from a grave they had dug earlier that week. He had seen the Iman performing rights. Because of the coronavirus families aren’t allowed at the burials which made the Iman standing alone over the coffin that much more unusual. When he finished Fadhill and his father had gone to fill it in. But now a glow seemed to be bobbing around the memorial. Thinking it might be another gravedigger like himself, Talib walked towards the light. Talib’s foot kicked a rock that clattered off a memorial and then he saw It.

The head popped up above the memorial at the sound. The gray hairless head looked too distorted to be human. Its terrible eyes looked around seeking the sound of the disturbance. Glowing white pupil-less sockets stared around as black ichor dripped from its gaping jaws. Long, while fingers gripped the edge of the marble memorial as it straightened up for a better look and stretched its long bony body. Its eyes locked on Talib and the flabby jaws closed in a hungry grin. The creature and Talib stood frozen for a moment before one word echoed inside Talib’s head: “Run!”

He dropped the ladder, turned and started sprinting towards the Old Cemetery. He could hear the creature bound over the memorial and rush towards him panting heavily. He ran as fast as he could before casting a look over his shoulder to see where the beast was. 

That’s when he stepped into one of the open graves.

As he fell into the darkness he instinctively rolled and managed to not only not break anything, but to come to his feet in a crouch. He was about to try to scramble up the side of the grave when a cold hand covered his face. Panic and terror coursed through his body and a scream started up his throat. “Shut up,” a voice in the darkness whispered fiercely. Another hand grabbed him and pulled him back towards the wall of the grave that he had fallen from. “Don’t speak a word,” the voice said calmly and quietly.” Talib didn’t feel the hands anymore, but saw above the rim of the grave the glowing aura of the creature gallop past. The voice next to him in the darkness let out a sigh. 

“Who are you?” Talib whispered. 

“Sami,” the voice whispered back. “Who are you?”

“Talib. What are you doing here?”

“I’m dead. What are you doing here?”

Talib staggered to the far side of the grave. “You’re… you’re… dead?” 

“Clearly you’re not dead,” Sami said. 

“Are you a ghost?”

“A brain and a beating heart,” Sami said. “You’re clearly using your mortality to fine effect!”

“You’re a smart-ass ghost.” 

“Hey,” he said defensively, “No one asked you to step in my grave and attract that… thing.”

“What is that thing?” 

“It’s a ghul.”

“A ghul? That’s a jinn, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, sort of. Twisted… wrong… but, yes, a jinn.”

“What’s it doing here?”

Talib realized his eyes were adjusting to the darkness because he could make out Sami staring at him with a raised eyebrow. “What do you think it’s doing?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”

“Feeding! It prefers fresh dead – there’s still traces of living energy there. And you? You’re a feast.”

Talib swallowed hard. “I have to get out of here.”

“We have to get out of here,” Sami corrected.

“You’re a ghost!” 

Sami crossed to him and wrapped his knuckles on Talib’s head, the knuckles going right through Talib, tingling fiercely. “Ghost to Talib! Pay attention! I just got through telling you it feeds on traces of living energy. I’m guessing you’re new here, but see if you can figure this out: which do you think would be tastier to a being that enjoys energy: a week-old corpse or an earthbound spirit that wanders the cemetery?”

“Oh,” Talib said. 

“Yeah. I’m one rung down the ghul food chain from your beating heart. That’s why we’re both getting out of here.”

“Do you have a plan?” 

“Run. Really fast. If something gets in our way, we turn.”

“Great plan.” 

“Thanks. Got it from a bootleg VHS when I was alive. Wait here…” Sami leapt with gravity-defying lift that brought him onto the lip of the grave. Talib could see him craning his neck. Then he was back in the grave next to Talib. “Okay, it’s three rows down. Looks like it found one of today’s burials. That’ll keep it occupied for a moment. Let’s go!” He bounded up again.

Talib ran and leapt for the edge of the grave, clawed with his feet and managed to pull his body up and out onto the sand.

“Come on, air breather, let’s move while we still can,” Sami coaxed. 

Talib was on his feet following him as he ran in a crouch from memorial to memorial. They hurried from row to row moving quickly towards the low fence delineating the Old Cemetery from the New. Talib looked back and saw that not only had the ghul started towards them, but he spotted another coming at full run from much further down the New Cemetery. From the direction and speed the ghul was traveling, Talib knew it had them in its sight. 

“Sami, we’ve got company,” he said. 

“Crap,” Sami said, seeing the first ghul.

“And him,” Talib pointed at the new ghul making up the distance quickly. 

“Wow. Run! Run! Run!” 

And they did. Abandoning all pretense of stealth, human and ghost sprinted side by side towards the low fence. As his lungs burned from exertion, Talib heard an unearthly scream emit from one of the ghuls. His exhaustion vanished and he sped up. 

Sami dove over the low fence first. Talib wasn’t far behind, but caught his foot on the three-foot-high wall and tumbled into a sprawl. 

“We made it!” Sami panted.

Talib lay where he fell and panted, “Are we… are we safe?”

The ghuls reached the low wall and screeched at it, but didn’t move past. 

“For a moment,” Sami said getting to his feet. 

“How long?” Talib joined him as he stared at the ghuls pacing up and down the wall. 

“Until they figure out the wall is broken over there,” Sami pointed to the section of crumpled stone a hundred meters away. 

As if reading their mind, both ghuls glowing white eyes snapped to the broken stone. They shambled for the gap. 

“Oh crap,” Sami said, “Come on!” He started running. 

Talib followed. Unlike the open, widely spaced memorials in the New Cemetery, the old cemetery had memorials of varying heights and sizes packed tightly together resembling a metropolis of stone in miniature. They ran past squat square memorials and broad domed mausoleums and turquoise minarets and they now could hear the ghuls inhuman howls as they loped after them. 

Talib could see where Sami was leading him. “It’s too far!” he panted. “We’ll never make it.” 

“We have to make it!” Sami yelled, slowing a little so Talib could keep pace. “Come on, Talib! Keep running! You don’t want to get devoured!”

The thought of the jaws of the ghuls closing on his flesh spurred him on, but he could feel his body tiring. They’d run so far already. Talib looked ahead and saw the lit gold cupolas of the Shrine of Imam Ali in the distance. The distance… so far. He had to keep running. He had to ignore the pain in his side and his burning lungs. 

One of the ghuls let out another soul chilling cry. 

The shrine loomed ahead when Talib caught his foot on the edge of a short memorial and fell hard, knocking the wind out of him. Sami was at his side immediately, “Come on Talib!”

“I… I…” Talib wheezed trying to suck in a breath. “Can’t… can’t breathe” 

“You won’t ever breathe again if you don’t get up!” 

Talib looked up and saw the ghuls almost on top of them. At their rate of speed he knew they couldn’t escape. “Get out… of… here…” Talib gasped at Sami.

“No,” Sami said, kneeling next to Talib. “We’re in this together.” 

Talib didn’t have time to acknowledge the gesture as the ghuls bore down. He tucked his head and closed his eyes and prepared for the agony.

Nothing happened. 

He looked up and saw the ghuls stopped feet away as if blocked by an invisible barrier. They were too surprised themselves to even howl.

“What?” Talib started, then looked at Sami who was grinning broadly. 

He looked over his shoulder, “We’re close enough!”

“To the shrine?”

“To the shrine! They can’t get any closer than that! We made it, Talib! We made it!” 

Talib felt relief rush through his body. “Thank you, Sami!”

“Northwest corner, row 725, fifth grave in,” Sami said.

“What’s that?” 

“My grave. You can put a blessing there for me.”

“Every day,” Talib smiled.

“Get home, Talib!” 

“Thanks again!” Talib hurried towards the shrine and past it into the city of Najef. He finally stumbled home around midnight. Despite the late hour, his father and Uncle Fadhill were waiting outside for him. 

“You finished?” his father asked.

“Yes father,” Talib said.

“Good. Your dinner is cold.” He stood up and walked inside. Before he closed the door behind him he said “I will see you bright and early.”

“I’m guessing you didn’t just finish, Talib?”

“No, Uncle.”

“Ghul?”

“Two of them.”

Fadhill whistled seriously. “And yet you lived!” He pat Talib on the shoulder, “Welcome to the family business.”

My brother Jason died two days ago. 

A CHP officer knocked on our door a few hours after we expected him home. He had been driving home from college for the Halloween weekend when a drunk driver crossed the median… It was instant, we were told. I suppose there’s some solace in that. I haven’t found it yet.  

That was Friday. Mom, dad, and I went down to identify the body. At first they didn’t want me to go, but I wouldn’t hear of it. If my big brother was dead, I wanted to bear witness. It was terrible. Worse than terrible. None of us have slept more than occasional exhaustion-induced catnaps. Yesterday, mom started to make funeral home arrangements, but, Jesus… we’ve been a collective mess.

This morning, though, Jason came out of his room and sat down at the breakfast table. Mom had finished filling her coffee cup and turned around and saw him. Her cup fell from her numb fingers and shattered on the tile floor.

“Whoa, mom, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!”

“Jason?” She asked breathlessly, “Is that you?”

“Yeah, mom,” he let out a laugh, “It’s me. I don’t even remember when I got in last night. I hope I didn’t wake you – you don’t look like you slept well.”

“I…” she started, but my dad rushed in, “Julie, are you okay?” He saw Jason. “Jason? Oh my God, Jason.” 

“Hey dad,” he said taking a spoonful of Coco Puffs. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

That’s when I rushed in. “Holy shit, Jason?”

“Hey sis,” he said with a mouth full of milk and cereal. 

I looked at mom and dad who looked back as flummoxed as I was. 

“How… how was your drive?”

“Good… I think.”

“You think?” 

“Honestly, I don’t remember the last hour or so. So, you know, uneventful. That’s the best kind, right?”

“Right,” my dad agreed maybe too quickly. “What are you up today?”

“Probably call Paul, see what he’s up to. Though I think he said he wasn’t getting back from U-dub until Sunday.”

“Today is Sunday,” I said without thinking. 

“What? Seriously? It’s Saturday. I left right after class Friday, yesterday.” 

“It’s Sunday, Jason.”

“Huh…” he said, then opened his phone. “Okay, it’s Sunday…” he said a little confused. 

“Julie, Katie, can I see you both in the other room?” 

Jason seemed too engrossed in his phone and cereal to notice our hasty departure. 

“What the hell is going on,” my mom asked. “Who is that?”

“Mom,” I said, “That’s obviously Jason.” 

“Katie, Jason is dead.”

“Julie,” My dad said, “We all know Jason is… dead,” he stumbled over the word. “But someone looking like Jason is sitting in the kitchen, answering like Jason, eating like Jason. I guess it’s his, what? His ghost?”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense…” I said. “How do we tell him he’s dead?”

“We don’t,” mom said.

“We don’t? Julie, honey…”

“We don’t tell him he’s dead. If he doesn’t realize he’s dead, then we get to spend more time with him.”

“Honey, he’s gone…”

“He’s sitting in the next room, Jim,” the tears rolled down her cheeks unchecked. “My son is in the next room.” 

Neither my dad nor I had anything to say to that.

“If you don’t mind,” she said, hurriedly wiping away the tears, “I’m going to have at least one more breakfast with my son.” She walked back into the kitchen.

“Dad?”

“I don’t know, Kat, part of me thinks this is so very wrong… and part of me desperately wants it to continue. I suppose it will end and we’ll have to accept it… but until then, let’s try to pretend it’s fine.”

“This is a terrible idea.”

“This is a terrible situation,” he countered and walked back into the kitchen leaving me in the dark dining room fighting with myself about wrestling with myself. Learning Jason was dead destroyed me, and less than 48 hours later with everything so fucking raw I’m expected to take part in this charade… Jason is dead and he’s not coming back. Mom and dad want this pretend thing. For them I wiped away my own tears and went back into the kitchen.

“Let’s see, did I tell you that I got that internship this summer?” Jason was telling our parents who sat attentively around the table.

“No!” Dad said. “The one at JPL?”

“Yeah, just heard yester—err, Friday. Starts right after school. I’m going to have to figure out where I’m going to stay down by Pasadena, but I don’t even want to think about that right now…” 

Mom let out a cry that she managed to turn into a passable laugh, “Yeah, why worry about that now.” Her voice broke on that last word and the dam she had been fighting to hold back broke and she stood and rushed out of the room.

“Whoa, is mom okay?”

“She, yeah,” dad covered, “She hasn’t been sleeping well. The upcoming election is really getting to her.”

“Really?” Jason asked.

“Really?” I asked. Dad shot me a look. 

“I didn’t know she was so political,” Jason said. 

“Well, you know how much she hates Trump. She’s been really upset since, well, since RBG died.” 

“Jesus, you should have seen downtown LA that day,” Jason said. “You’d have thought the world ended. I mean, in a sense it did, right? Everyone is apoplectic about these Amy Coney Barrett hearings. What a joke. How are folks at high school taking it, Katie? I bet Mr. Stewart is dancing with glee. That prick…”

“Jason,” my dad instinctively snapped.

“Sorry, dad, but he is. He’s right of Scalia! He’s old, though, he’ll die soon.” 

“Jason, please!” my dad said, putting his hand to his face to hide fresh tears.

“I’m sorry!” Jason said, smiling. At that million-watt smile I felt something break inside me, but I managed to not acknowledge it. He went back to his cereal and said quietly under his breath, “It’s true though…”

“I’m going to check on your mother,” Dad said hurrying out himself.

Jason watched him go, then leaned forward towards me conspiratorially. “Kat, what’s going on with them? They’re acting really weird.” 

I wanted to tell him “They’re acting exactly how I’d expect given that you’re dead and you walked out of your room and sat down for breakfast.” But I didn’t. “Things are… weird,” I said vaguely.

“Is anything wrong?”

“It’s 2020, Jason, what’s not wrong?”

“No shit,” he agreed. “Seriously, though…”

“Seriously, you’re dead!” I did not say. “The pandemic, you going back to LA for school–”

“Are they still stressed over that? I’m safe in my apartment. If they decide to start face-to-face classes again at least I’ll be there.”

“I know,” I said almost losing it thinking about his little apartment in LA that we would have to clean out… “They know. But it doesn’t mean they – we – don’t worry, you know.”

“I’m fine, I’m taking precautions – never going out without a mask, washing my hands, no gatherings… I’m safe.”

“Then why are you dead?” I wanted to ask. I didn’t. “I know,” is all I said.

Jason stood up and washed his empty bowl out and left it in the sink. “I’m going to go play Games of War 5 and see if Paul is around,” he started to head out of the kitchen. “Wanna grab coffee tonight?” 

“More than anything in the world,” I said. It just came out.

He laughed, “Cool.” 

I found my parents in their bedroom crying together. I didn’t want to disturb them. I didn’t have anything consoling to say. What is there to say? I went to my room and cried by myself. I must have fallen asleep because I jerked awake when my door flew open and Jason rushed in.

“Katie!” he shouted, “Why didn’t you tell me I’m dead?!”

“What? Jason? What are you talking about?” It wasn’t an act. In that liminal space between sound sleep and rushed awakening my brain hadn’t caught up with the most recent news that Jason actually was dead, and I certainly hadn’t remembered that we were pretending he wasn’t.

“Katie, stop playing. How did I die?”

Reality snapped back like a drawn rubber band and I remembered the morning. So, when I replied, “What are you talking about?” this time, I knew what he was talking about.

“I’m dead. Paul just said I was. I called him, said hey and he yelled, ‘oh shit!’ and hung up. I called him back and he’s like ‘Holy shit, man, you’re calling me from beyond the grave!’ Said dad called him yesterday and said I died in a car accident on Friday.”

I let a long moment pass while I fought myself on how to answer. “There’s only two possibilities,” I started.

Jason seemed relieved and sat on my desk chair to hear me out. He would always listen to my thoughts when he asked me a question. I loved him for it and right this second it was killing me. “One,” I choked out, “Paul is fucking with you. Honestly, that’s the most likely scenario.”

“Katie, come on, he sounded really shaken.”

“Two,” I pressed on, “Paul is deeply, deeply, sincerely stoned. This is Paul we’re talking about, right?”

I could read the conflict behind Jason’s eyes – or at least behind his ghost eyes. He seemed to buoy and smiled again, “Yeah, he’s probably really fucked up. That asshole,” he laughed. “Do you know where mom and dad are?”

“I saw them upstairs a little bit ago.”

“Cool,” he said as he stood up and headed out of my room. 

I remembered mom and dad crying together and hurried after him. He beat me to their room and pushed the door open to a scene of grief. Mom was sobbing quietly, yet inconsolably while dad held her and gently stroked her hair and let his own tears fall. Jason and I stared and I could see Jason deflate. 

“It’s true,” he said, disturbing the quiet crying. “I’m dead.” 

“What, honey?” mom rolled out of dad’s arms and stood, wiping tears away. “What are you,” she sniffled, “What are you talking about?”

“Mom… stop.” 

“But Jason…” she said.

“Mom, please?” 

“Jason, we were…” dad started but his words just stopped.

Jason smiled sadly. “I get it. I do…” He let out a sad laugh, “I mean, I don’t understand it… I don’t understand why I’m here now…” He looked up suddenly. “I remember now. I was driving home. The headlights crossed the median. I tried to swerve but…” he closed his eyes. “I guess I wasn’t able to get out of the way…”

“Oh, Jason,” mom rushed forward and threw her arms around him. I expected they’d go right through him – he was a ghost, right? But they didn’t. She hugged him and cried “My baby.” 

Jason looked at me and I shrugged on instinct. He rubbed her back as she cried. “It’s okay, mom. It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” she cried. “You’re dead!” 

“I know,” he said. “But… it’ll be okay.” 

She broke the embrace and looked at him. “How can you say that? I can’t lose you!” 

He led her to the edge of her bed and sat down with her. He looked her in the eyes and held her gaze for a long moment. “It’s not going to be okay today. Or tomorrow. Or probably for a long while. But it will get better by degrees.” He paused, then added, “Unless, you know, you do get over it really quickly, then I’ll come back and haunt your ass!” That made us all laugh through our tears.

“Jason, I’m so sorry,” dad started and then his own tears overwhelmed him. 

“Dad, you have nothing to apologize for. You were the best dad I could have ever wanted. Seriously, I wouldn’t be who I am – I was? – without you.” 

Dad moved around and sat on Jason’s other side and hugged him tightly. Mom hugged again and all three sobbed together. 

After what felt like eternity, Jason broke the group hug by standing.

“Jason?” mom asked.

“It’s just about time,” he said sadly.

“No, Jason, you can’t go, please,” she begged. 

“Mom,” he said sternly but gently, “It’s not up to me. I don’t know how or why I got this opportunity to come back, but, you know, this doesn’t happen. And it doesn’t last. And I know my time is running out. You have been the best mom ever, and I’m so sorry I have to go. You were the best, mom.” 

She stared at him wordlessly and let her tears fall from her cheeks. 

He turned to me. 

“I guess I’m chopped liver?” I said jokingly through my tears.

The suddenness and force of his embrace surprised me. “Katie, I’m so sorry, sis.”

“I’m going to fucking miss you, Jerkface.” 

“I know,” he said. 

“What am I going to do without my big brother?” I asked as I squeezed him back. 

“I’ll be around,” he said, releasing the embrace. “Not, you know, not like this,” he gestured to himself. “But if you need to talk I’ll make sure I’m around to listen. Don’t know how I can get word back to you, but I’ll do my best.”

This time I hugged him. I don’t know when mom and dad joined in, but the three of us hugged Jason tightly like we could bind him to the earth through sheer force of love.

But we couldn’t. 

Jason broke the group embrace and stepped past me towards the door. 

“I have to go,” he said. “I can’t explain how I know, but I know it’s time.” 

We stared at him. We were out of words.

Jason seemed to know. 

“I love you, mom. I love you, dad. I love you, Katie. I’ll be around. I promise.” He started to say “Goodbye,” but the word wouldn’t come out. Instead he said, “I love you all,” and backed out the door of their room, closing the door behind him. 

As the door clicked shut, a bright golden light shone from the crack below the door and even suffused through the crack around the door. It glowed brilliantly for one glorious moment and then it faded out. 

This is something of a continuation of a story from two years ago – here’s a link – it’s not too long and just introduced us to a pair of inadvertent ghost housemates who suddenly found themselves having to share their space with a living family. Two years later and everyone is still in the townhouse together…

Tony and Janine sat on the top step watching Maggie trying to get little Theo to sit still and pay attention to his kindergarten class on Zoom.

“You know, Tony, this is crazy,” Janine started. “I mean, when I died and realized I was stuck with you…”

“Hey!” Tony objected.

“Sorry, when I died and realized you and I were ghostmates… well, I guess I figured it’s some kind of karmic thing, ya know? I mean we died, right? No one knows what happens after you die. So, this?” she pointed between the two of them, “I mean, it beats getting reincarnated as a gopher, right?”

“That happens?”

Janine shrugged, “I don’t know… maybe? But I’m sure there’s worse situations for our fellow ghosts or spirits or earth-bound entities – whatever you want to call us.”

“You’re probably right…” Tony nodded as the kindergarten teacher’s voice came out of the speaker.

“Theo, you need to mute your microphone when it’s not your turn…”

“But this…” Janine gestured to Maggie trying to split her time between her work laptop and keeping Theo in his seat and largely failing at both. “This pandemic thing is worse than death! How long have they been bottled up like this?”

“Five long years,” a voice came behind them. “Make room, ghosties.”

Tony slid over with part of him disappearing into the wall and Janine scooted towards the banister enough so that Suzie could sit next to them. “Hey Suzie,” Janine said. “Seriously, though, you guys have been locked up here, what? Seven? Eight months?”

“It just feels like five years,” Suzie let out an enormous sigh.

“Suzie!” Maggie called from downstairs. “You’re working on your classwork, right?”

“Right mom!” Suzie called back without moving.

“How…?” Janine asked.

“Told them my video cut out and I’m trying to get it back. It’ll be fine. What are guys up to?”

“Janine’s just bumming me out about how we’re forced to be stuck here, but you guys being stuck here is just as bad,” Tony summarized.

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Suzie agreed. She looked at his stained Van Halen shirt and frowned.

“What? Don’t approve of rock’n’roll?” he asked.

“No, I didn’t want to be the one to tell you Eddie Van Halen died the other day.”

“Nooooooooo!” Tony yelled towards the ceiling.

“Theo! Get back here!” Maggie called as Theo bolted from his chair. In her effort, she knocked her mug of tea which fell off the desk and crashed on the floor. “No, no, no, no!” she said. “Theo!”

“This is a living nightmare,” Janine shook here head, “By which I mean, a nightmare for the living…”

“Maybe we can, I don’t know, do a séance and try to contact Eddie. I mean, if he’s on our side now…”

“What are you talking about?” Janine asked.

“Eddie Van Halen!”

“Hey, that’s a great idea,” Suzie said.

“No,” Janine, said, “We do not need Tony and some rock guitarist in the same place.”

“No,” Suzie said. “You guys are stuck here, we’re stuck here. I can talk with you, but maybe if we had a séance Mom and Theo could at least communicate with you. Maybe it’d make life a little easier…”

“Hmm,” Janine thought, “That might work. Like you said, since we’re all stuck here…”

“Can we try to contact Eddie?”

“No,” Janine and Suzie said at the same time.

That night Suzie cleared the dinner dishes without being asked. Her mom marveled at the act, while Theo just played with his Yo-Kai medals, inserting them one by one into his Yo-Kai watch.

After she put the dishes in the dishwasher, she took out a folding chair and set it up next to the empty fourth chair.

“To what do I owe the honor of you clearing the table?”

“Mom,” she said seriously as she sat in her own chair. “We live in a haunted house.”

“Suzie,” she sighed, “We’re not getting into this again. There’s no such thing as–”

“Mom, listen to me, please?”

Maggie took a deep breath and let it out. “Okay, Suzie.”

“We’re going to have a séance tonight–”

“Suzie, I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“Mom, we’ve been stuck in this house for the last nine years….”

“…It’s been seven months….”

“Might as well have been nine years, mom! Look, I think they can help us. We’re all sharing the same space. We might as well all be on the same team, right?”

“Do you think it’s appropriate for Theo to be here?”

“He’s a kid, mom, Theo probably already knows they’re here.”

“Knows what?” Theo said looking up from the oversized plastic watch making obnoxious electronic noises.

“Do you see the ghosts that live here?”

“You mean zebra man and the black woman?”

“See?” Suzie said to her mom.

“Fine,” her mom rolled her eyes. “I guess we can do this.”

“Great!” Suzie got up and dimmed the lights in the kitchen , then took her seat. “Mom, take my hand and take Theo’s hand.” She did, while Theo tried to squirm away to give his watch attention. “Please, spirits of this house, make yourself visible for everyone at this table.”

Nothing happened.

“Are you sure, Suzie?” Her mom started before sitting back shocked as the forms of an overweight young man in a Van Halen shirt and zebra Hammer pants sitting next to a casually dressed black woman about her own age came into view.

“So formal!” Janine said with a laugh.

“I know, right?” Tony said. “’Spirits of this house’” he imitated. Then he noticed Maggie staring open-mouthed with bulging eyes. “Oh, uh, hello ma’am,” he stammered.

“Hi, Maggie, is it?” Janine said. Maggie didn’t move or give any indication of comprehension. “Yeah, well, my name is Janine. This is Tony,” she gestured to Tony. “We’re, uh, well, we’re the ghosts that live here.”

“Hi lady!” Theo said.

“Hey, Theo,” Janine said with a big smile. “Good to talk to you finally!”

“What’s up, big guy?” Tony said, waving.

“Hi Zebraman!” Theo said back.

“Zebraman?” Tony said, then looked at his pants, “Oh! Well, yeah. They’re comfy!” 

Theo giggled.

“Mom, are you okay?” Suzie asked.

“Ghosts,” she finally managed. “We have ghosts…”

“Mom, they have names.”

Maggie blinked rapidly trying to get her senses back. “I… I’m sorry. Tony? Janine? This is a lot to take in, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, try waking up dead,” Janine said. “That’s real mind scrambler!”

“I… I imagine it is,” Maggie said.

“Your daughter had the idea that since we’re all here together maybe we can try to help you guys out a little. Now that you know we’re here! I don’t know if you’ll be able to see us or whether we can have a conversation like this on the regular – it seems kind of silly, but your daughter genuinely can see and communicate with us and this allows her to kind of extend her ability to everyone in the circle. But we’re here and we can hear you.”

“And we can let you know we understand,” Tony said, picking up some heavy chains out of thin air and shaking them loudly.

“That was you?” Maggie asked accusingly. “Those damn chains scared the crap out of me!”

Tony dropped the chains and they disappeared. “Chains? What chains?” He said blushing.

The next day Maggie was on her laptop while Theo attended his Zoom kindergarten. Out of her peripheral vision she could see Theo losing focus and starting to edge away from the screen.

“Janine?” she called, “Could you keep an eye on Theo? I have to get this spreadsheet together.”

Janine crouched next to Theo who saw her and immediately stopped. She pointed at the screen and Theo grudgingly turned his attention back to the screen.

..

Tony stood on the stoop over the Amazon package that had just been delivered. “Keep moving, dog lady,” he said to the woman walking her Pomeranian. She couldn’t hear him. Between cars a teenage boy looked left and right to make sure no one was looking then he moved as deliberately as he could towards the package. “This isn’t good,” Tony said to himself. The kid reached down to grab the package and Tony concentrated, materialized as a rotting zombie with his melting flesh face an inch from the face of the boy. The boy’s eyes met his and Tony just said, “Boo.” The kid fell back on his butt before scrambling to his feet and sprinting away. “Heh, I like this,” Tony said to himself.

..

“Tell her!” Janine insisted.

“Ugh, do I have to?”

“Yes, you have to!”

“Tell me what?” Maggie asked as she fixed the tuna casserole.

Suzie rolled her eyes. “Janine wants to know if you’d put TLC’s ‘Crazysexycool’ on again.”

“Oh, I’d love to! Good taste, Janine!” Maggie said opening Spotify on her phone.

“Ugh! I don’t know if this was a good idea,” Suzie said.

“Rona!” Tony said staring out the window. “That dude’s totally got the ‘Rona!”

“Thanks, Tony,” Suzie said. “I don’t think you need to alert us to everyone walking by.”

“Oh, she definitely has the ‘Rona! Don’t even slow down, lady! Keep walking!”

Suzie appealed to Janine. “Don’t look at me,” Janine said. “He thinks he’s being helpful. We’re all trapped here together!”