Story: 2021, Week 20 – Quarantine, Chapter 1: Surprise!

Alright, this is a day late. And I wanted to let this play out a little bit. It’s unapologetically weird. And it’s in chapters! Chapter 1 today, and I hope to get new chapters soon (like, maybe tomorrow? Saturday? Soon…). Okay, let’s see how Amie’s pandemic started…

Monday, March 2, 2020 started pretty normally. I woke up late – normal. I found a mostly clean dress and set a reminder to do laundry – still normal. Put food down for William Ignatius George Grover Lawrence Eliot Smith II (my cat, WIGGLES) – normal. He looked at me, looked at the food, then looked back at me like, “This is the best you’ve got?”

“Yes, Wiggles, that’s what you’re getting.”

He looked back at his food. Then back at me like “You wore that dress on Friday.”

“I know, Wiggles, I know,” I said tying my hair back. “We’re doing laundry tonight.”

He meowed dismissively and begrudgingly started eating his cat food.

I recognized that I need to stop having imaginary conversations with my cat – still normal.

Balanced my grande non-fat chai latte and my breakfast sandwich as I hit the button for the second floor. Didn’t spill anything (okay, very little), hung up my purse, started my computer booting, leaned back in my chair and took a long breath and tried to get myself into the headspace for a new week – normal. 

“You know you they frown at sleeping on the job,” a voice startled me and I jumped in my seat. “Whoa! Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you!”

“Peter!” I said, trying to regain my composure. He was early and I wasn’t prepared to flirt this early – okay, so, yeah, this is the start where things got less normal. “Ahem, sorry, just, you know, meditating for the new week. What, err, how was your weekend?”

He smiled.

I melted.

“Good, good. Have you checked your email yet?” he looked past me and saw my machine just got to the Windows log in. “Oh, guess not.”

“No, what’s up? Who’s fired?”

“No, no one. It’s that virus…”

“Ooh,” I leaned forward, “Who got a virus? Was it from porn? Who downloaded porn at work? Eliot in QA, right? It was totally Eliot!”

“What?” Peter looked confused. “No, no, not that kind of virus. That Covid 19 one that came over from China?”

“That’s a lot less exciting than Eliot getting busted for porn,” I said. I looked at my watch, “Day’s still early, though. He still might… Wait, Covid 19?”

“Weirdo,” he smiled again. Why does he keep doing that?!

I bowed my head. “Guilty,” I said. “So… Covid-19?”

“We’re going home. I’m heading out right now. Didn’t know if Dean talked to you guys yet?”

“Going home?”

“Work from home. Quarantine. Guess this shit’s serious!”

“What? Seriously?” My desk phone rang. “It’s Dean,” I said looking at the caller ID.

“That’s probably it. I’ll catch up with you later!” he said and then disappeared and all my plants immediately wilted for his absence.

“Dean, you’re here early,” I started. In his office, grab Terry and Jessica on the way. Peter was right, we were going home, quarantine indefinitely, do we have the necessary equipment to do our job from home, yada yada yada.

Not. Normal.

Back at my cube, I stared around, evaluated what I needed to take and headed home.

As I approached the door I heard the deep thumping bass. At 10am? Seemingly coming from my door? I took my pepper spray out of my purse and cautiously put my hand on the knob. I could feel the vibrations of the loud music through the cool metal. I listened… “Mind Playing Tricks On Me” by the Geto Boys? What the hell? I jiggled the knob experimentally and it was still locked.

I should have been scared. I probably should have retreated to my car and called the cops. But I was pissed my morning flirting was cut short. I was pissed someone was listening to tracks from the golden age of hip hop without me (the song had changed to Pete Rock and C.L. Smooth’s “They Reminisce Over You”)! Someone’s getting pepper sprayed.

Here was my plan: quietly unlock the door, throw it open with one hand out ready to pepper spray whoever’s in there and has great taste in hip hop. The other hand will be ready to dial 911. Lock clicked, placed my keys in my purse, keyed 911 on my phone with my left thumb hovering over the dial button. Pepper spray ready, I threw open the door.

First thing I noticed was the disco ball. That was not hanging from the ceiling when I left. Second thing, the orange couch. I loved it, but it wasn’t mine. Third thing, my cat, Wiggles, sitting on said couch like a person would, in the middle of taking a rip off a bong that was literally the same size as him.

So far from normal I couldn’t find normal on a goddamn map.

My pepper spray clattered to the floor.

“What the fuck?!”

I said it. Wiggles said it. Well, coughed it as he nearly dropped the green bong. The goat that stood in front of him caught the teetering glass cylinder in his horns.

“Good catch, Chuck,” Wiggles said to the goat.

“No, seriously, what the fuck?!” I yelled.

Wiggles looked back at me. “Uh Oh….” Appropriately, the song changed to “Scenario” by Tribe Called Quest. The cat stared at me. I stared at the cat. ‎Phife Dawg flowed on the track. Wiggles snapped (I still don’t understand how) and the music stopped, the goat disappeared, as did the disco ball. The couch, too, was replaced with my boring beige free couch. It was my house again. Wiggles flipped from his seated position to a more standard four-legged standing position, tilted his head and let out a perfectly normal, “Meow?”

Story – 2021, Week 16: Ghost Therapy

Finding inspiration has been difficult lately – that goes for the whole pandemic, if I’m honest. So, when pressed for this one, I went to the (haunted) well that I usually use in October – ghosts. In April. Why not? Long after the fake skeletons are put away, and the fake spider webs are taken down, what happens when you’re still sharing your house with a ghost?

A popup reminder about her next Zoom therapy appointment boinged onto Aileen’s screen and she sighed deeply. She took a deep drink off the cold coffee next to her laptop, cleared her throat, set her features in her practiced Professional Therapist face and clicked the button to join the meeting.

Her picture, of course, and two others appeared on the screen. One, a woman in a lavender sweatshirt, her hair in messy bun, and the other… nothing.

“Hello, Sarah. Good to see you.”

“Hi Doctor,” the woman replied.

“And, Emma, I trust you’re there?”

“Oh, she’s there…” Sarah rolled her eyes.

“Will you let me answer for myself?” came the voice of an old woman. “Do you see what I put up with, doc? Do you see this?”

“What you put up with!” Sarah yelled back.

“Ladies, ladies, please,” Aileen calmed. “Emma,” she addressed the blank window, “How are you doing today?”

“Oh, glorious!” she said sarcastically. “This nimrod keeps pressing my buttons and will not get out of my house!”

“Hard to get out of your house when it doesn’t belong to you anymore. Besides, how can I go out with this pandemic still going on?”

“You don’t have to remind me about the pandemic, missy,” Emma’s voice retorted. “I’d still be living in this place if it weren’t for that stupid Covid…”

“Let’s talk about that,” Aileen tried to steer the conversation. “You’ve been dead, what, six months?”

“October 21st,” the voice said bitterly but got melancholier as she continued, “Alone. In the hospital…”

“Should have haunted there…” Sarah mumbled under her breath.

“I heard that!” Emma boomed. “You see, Doc? You see?”

“Sarah,” Aileen started, “Was that constructive?”

“It’s not constructive for the previous owner to haunt your dream apartment! It’s been six months, Doctor. A ghost is spooky in October, you know? You move in, things go bump, then she shows up and starts criticizing your breakfast, your clothes choice… everything!”

“It’s not my fault she’s a mess!” Emma’s voice commented.

“I tried to be understanding,” she turned her head to look where Emma ostensibly sat. “You died in a horrible way, and I’m really sorry about that. But this…,” she waved at Emma, “you need to cross over already!”

“How am I supposed to do that when you’re hear 24-7?” Emma said.

“It’s a pandemic! Where am I going to go? I have to work from home. Home! My home!”

“It’s still my home, too, missy.”

“Ugh!” Sarah gritted her teeth in frustration and blew a stray hair out of her face. “You’re a doctor of paranormal psychology. Why am I sharing my apartment rent-free? Still?!”

“I understand the frustration on both sides,” Aileen said calmly. “Emma, I’m guessing you’d prefer to move on instead of haunting this place that’s clearly no longer yours.”

“Darn right, toots.”

“Emma’s energy is understandably tied to this place you lived for, what? Twenty years?”

“Twenty-three,” the voice corrected.

“And, Sarah, it’s understandable that you’d want your own space without criticism.”

“I don’t think I’m asking too much…”

“No, but here we are six months after Emma died and she’s still here. You both understand that in October as you near Halloween the veil between this realm and the spirit realm thins… becomes more… permeable.”

“Okay,” Sarah said.

“When Emma passed in the hospital, without anchor, her energy…”

“My ghost.”

“Energy, ghost, spirit, whatever you want to call it, came back to this apartment.”

“Sure,” Sarah said, “That makes sense. But it’s April. Why is she still here?”

Aileen nodded thoughtfully for long moments. “I believe she’s basically… trapped on this side.”

“Trapped?” Emma and Sarah said in unison.

“So, you mean I’m stuck with Miss Sweatpants and sourdough until October?!”

“And I’ve got to put up with this biddy all up in my business?”

“Oh, as if you had any business to get up into! Maybe you’d be nicer if someone got up in your business!”

Aileen felt a blush as Sarah stared agog to the side of the screen where Emma would be sitting. “Ladies,” she said suppressing a smile, “Ladies, let’s get back on track. There’s not a lot of ghost business in April because it’s when the veil is the strongest. I suspect that if Emma were left alone in her house she might find a way to cross over on her own…”

“So, this is my fault?” Sarah asked accusingly.

“No,” Aileen interjected quickly, “It’s no one’s fault. It’s just the situation we’re in. Sarah, do you have an appointment for the vaccine yet?”

“I don’t.”

“She hasn’t even tried!” Emma said.

“Sarah?”

“For your information, Emma, I have been trying. And, in fact, I have an appointment on Friday.”

“Well, hallelujah!” Emma’s voice said. “I’ve only been prodding you since they released it!”

“That’s great news, Sarah,” Aileen said. “That’s a positive note that we’re going to have to leave this session on. I’ll see you both – well, I’ll speak with you both next week the same time?”

“Thanks Doc,” Emma said.

“That works for me,” Sarah said.

A week passed and the popup reminder boinged onto Aileen’s screen. She clicked on the link to join the Zoom meeting and was surprised to see just Sarah sitting there.

“Sarah? Is Emma not joining us today?”

“No, doctor. Emma is gone,” Sarah said and Aileen heard a distinct note of sadness in her voice.

“Gone? When?”

“After I got my shot. I came home and she said, ‘Took you long enough,’” she imitated Emma. “’Glad you’re not going to die like I did’, she said and then… faded away.” Tears welled up in Sarah’s eyes. “Doctor, do you think she was sticking around just to make sure I got the vaccine?”

“I think…” Aileen started but was cut off by a disembodied voice coming from the speakers.

“Nah, I was just there to watch that bum get voted out of office.”

“Well, that tracks,” Sarah said smiling.

“Of course, hon, I wanted you to get the shot,” Emma’s voice said. “Enjoy the place like I did. No, enjoy it more. Also, that guy in 309 has a thing for you. And you should take him up on it – I spied on him and, hubba-hubba, girl!”

“Emma!” Sarah said blushing deeply. But Emma had gone again.

“Well,” Aileen said after a prolonged silence. “I think we’re settled here.”

A popup reminder about her next Zoom therapy appointment boinged onto Aileen’s screen and she sighed deeply. She took a deep drink off the cold coffee next to her laptop, cleared her throat, set her features in her practiced Professional Therapist face and clicked the button to join the meeting.

Her picture, of course, and two others appeared on the screen. One, a woman in a lavender sweatshirt, her hair in messy bun, and the other… nothing.

“Hello, Sarah. Good to see you.”

“Hi Doctor,” the woman replied.

“And, Emma, I trust you’re there?”

“Oh, she’s there…” Sarah rolled her eyes.

“Will you let me answer for myself?” came the voice of an old woman. “Do you see what I put up with, doc? Do you see this?”

“What you put up with!” Sarah yelled back.

“Ladies, ladies, please,” Aileen calmed. “Emma,” she addressed the blank window, “How are you doing today?”

“Oh, glorious!” she said sarcastically. “This nimrod keeps pressing my buttons and will not get out of my house!”

“Hard to get out of your house when it doesn’t belong to you anymore. Besides, how can I go out with this pandemic still going on?”

“You don’t have to remind me about the pandemic, missy,” Emma’s voice retorted. “I’d still be living in this place if it weren’t for that stupid Covid…”

“Let’s talk about that,” Aileen tried to steer the conversation. “You’ve been dead, what, six months?”

“October 21st,” the voice said bitterly but got melancholier as she continued, “Alone. In the hospital…”

“Should have haunted there…” Sarah mumbled under her breath.

“I heard that!” Emma boomed. “You see, Doc? You see?”

“Sarah,” Aileen started, “Was that constructive?”

“It’s not constructive for the previous owner to haunt your dream apartment! It’s been six months, Doctor. A ghost is spooky in October, you know? You move in, things go bump, then she shows up and starts criticizing your breakfast, your clothes choice… everything!”

“It’s not my fault she’s a mess!” Emma’s voice commented.

“I tried to be understanding,” she turned her head to look where Emma ostensibly sat. “You died in a horrible way, and I’m really sorry about that. But this…,” she waved at Emma, “you need to cross over already!”

“How am I supposed to do that when you’re hear 24-7?” Emma said.

“It’s a pandemic! Where am I going to go? I have to work from home. Home! My home!”

“It’s still my home, too, missy.”

“Ugh!” Sarah gritted her teeth in frustration and blew a stray hair out of her face. “You’re a doctor of paranormal psychology. Why am I sharing my apartment rent-free? Still?!”

“I understand the frustration on both sides,” Aileen said calmly. “Emma, I’m guessing you’d prefer to move on instead of haunting this place that’s clearly no longer yours.”

“Darn right, toots.”

“Emma’s energy is understandably tied to this place you lived for, what? Twenty years?”

“Twenty-three,” the voice corrected.

“And, Sarah, it’s understandable that you’d want your own space without criticism.”

“I don’t think I’m asking too much…”

“No, but here we are six months after Emma died and she’s still here. You both understand that in October as you near Halloween the veil between this realm and the spirit realm thins… becomes more… permeable.”

“Okay,” Sarah said.

“When Emma passed in the hospital, without anchor, her energy…”

“My ghost.”

“Energy, ghost, spirit, whatever you want to call it, came back to this apartment.”

“Sure,” Sarah said, “That makes sense. But it’s April. Why is she still here?”

Aileen nodded thoughtfully for long moments. “I believe she’s basically… trapped on this side.”

“Trapped?” Emma and Sarah said in unison.

“So, you mean I’m stuck with Miss Sweatpants and sourdough until October?!”

“And I’ve got to put up with this biddy all up in my business?”

“Oh, as if you had any business to get up into! Maybe you’d be nicer if someone got up in your business!”

Aileen felt a blush as Sarah stared agog to the side of the screen where Emma would be sitting. “Ladies,” she said suppressing a smile, “Ladies, let’s get back on track. There’s not a lot of ghost business in April because it’s when the veil is the strongest. I suspect that if Emma were left alone in her house she might find a way to cross over on her own…”

“So, this is my fault?” Sarah asked accusingly.

“No,” Aileen interjected quickly, “It’s no one’s fault. It’s just the situation we’re in. Sarah, do you have an appointment for the vaccine yet?”

“I don’t.”

“She hasn’t even tried!” Emma said.

“Sarah?”

“For your information, Emma, I have been trying. And, in fact, I have an appointment on Friday.”

“Well, hallelujah!” Emma’s voice said. “I’ve only been prodding you since they released it!”

“That’s great news, Sarah,” Aileen said. “That’s a positive note that we’re going to have to leave this session on. I’ll see you both – well, I’ll speak with you both next week the same time?”

“Thanks Doc,” Emma said.

“That works for me,” Sarah said.

A week passed and the popup reminder boinged onto Aileen’s screen. She clicked on the link to join the Zoom meeting and was surprised to see just Sarah sitting there.

“Sarah? Is Emma not joining us today?”

“No, doctor. Emma is gone,” Sarah said and Aileen heard a distinct note of sadness in her voice.

“Gone? When?”

“After I got my shot. I came home and she said, ‘Took you long enough,’” she imitated Emma. “’Glad you’re not going to die like I did’, she said and then… faded away.” Tears welled up in Sarah’s eyes. “Doctor, do you think she was sticking around just to make sure I got the vaccine?”

“I think…” Aileen started but was cut off by a disembodied voice coming from the speakers.

“Nah, I was just there to watch that bum get voted out of office.”

“Well, that tracks,” Sarah said smiling.

“Of course, hon, I wanted you to get the shot,” Emma’s voice said. “Enjoy the place like I did. No, enjoy it more. Also, that guy in 309 has a thing for you. And you should take him up on it – I spied on him and, hubba-hubba, girl!”

“Emma!” Sarah said blushing deeply. But Emma had gone again.

“Well,” Aileen said after a prolonged silence. “I think we’re settled here.”

31 Ghosts 2020 – October 5: Bloody Mary

“Alright, girls,” Madison’s mom, Janet stood in front of the television. “You’ve got pizza, treats, sodas… I think you’re set!”

“Thanks Mom!” Madison said appreciatively. Then added “Can we please start the new season of The Worst Witch now?!”

“Okay, okay! I’m going to get out of your hair! If you need anything, Tom and I are downstairs, okay?”

“Yes, mom!”

“Okay! Have fun!” and Janet beat a hasty retreat downstairs flicking the lights off so only the glow of the enormous television lit the room.

Giggling and whispers started as the trademark Netflix “Ba-bong” rang out. But no sooner had the black silhouette of a witch on a broom cross the orange moon than Madison hit pause and stood in front of the television facing them.

“Girls,” she said solemnly. “There is something very serious I have to tell you that I have not mentioned before to any of you…”

The four girls practically held their breath.

“My house… is… haunted!”

Hailey howled, “No waaaaaay!

Olivia’s eyes grew bigger than her glasses and the color drained from her face.

Emma rolled her eyes, “Madie, for reals?!”

Alora kept her arms crossed in front of her, nodded, and said “Cool,” quietly to herself.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Madison said to no one and everyone. “I’m serious!”

“There’s no such thing as ghosts!” Emma said earnestly.

“Yes there are!” Madison said.

“Have you seen a ghost?” Olivia asked nervously.

“Well, I haven’t seen a ghost—”

“See!” Emma said. “Not real.”

“I haven’t seen a ghost, but I’ve felt them. Cold spots. I hear someone upstairs in the attic guest room at night when there’s no one there. And there’s footsteps on the stairs…”

“That’s probably your over-protective mom looking in on her baby,” Emma said.

“Is not!” Madison said defensively. “Stop being mean!”

“Stop lying about ghosts!” Emma pushed.

“If Madison says it’s haunted,” Hailey started but Emma cut her off.

“Then she’s lying to scare you.”

Madison’s mouth hung agape and she looked like she was about to cry.

“Why don’t you shut it, you cow,” Alora spoke up. She’d heard a woman on a BBC show her mom watched call another woman a cow in such a way that it seemed to Alora to cut deeper than any curse word could. She had looked it looked up British women calling each other cows on YouTube and studied their emphasis for the perfect effect. Judging from Emma’s mouthless stare she fired perfectly. “If Madie says it’s haunted it’s haunted. It’s her house. We’re just guests. You don’t have to be daft about it.” Another BBC-ism – daft – she wasn’t sure she quite nailed it, but no one else in the room had even heard the word daft, so she was pretty sure she was good on that one.

Emma was turning red in the face and getting ready to unleash a barrage on Alora when Hailey, the peacemaker, spoke up. “Come on, guys, let’s just watch the show, okay? Ghosts or no ghosts we’ve got witches,” she said the last word with a lilt and a little shoulder shake she hoped would puncture the pressure that had built up in the house.

“Hailey’s right,” Olivia said. “Madison, thank you for warning us about potential paranormal activity. But let’s watch Mildred!”

“I just wanted to let you know,” Madison said, then quickly pressed play and sat down.

Emma leaned over towards Alora and whispered, “This isn’t over. You’re only here because your mom and Janet are friends. None of us even like you.”

Alora gave Emma her best Wednesday Addams blank stare (practiced that, too) and said finally, “’This isn’t over’?” She mimicked, “Emma, go back to your side of the couch, think of something genuinely original, then come back and try again, okay?”

Emma rolled her eyes and shook her head and turned exasperated towards the screen.

Alora, too, turned to watch the first episode of season 4. But she wondered why Madie’s parents had the AC on so high. It was freezing!

Two hours and four episodes later, Madison declared break time as she hit stop before Netflix switched to episode 5, “The Forbidden Tree”. Olivia leapt from her seat and raced to the bathroom, “Too many Cokes!”

The other girls laughed.

“You know, Madison,” Emma started with the subtlety of a venomous snake. “I’ve been thinking… there is a way to settle this whole haunted thing.”

“Gladatorial combat?” Elora said.

“You’re so weird,” Emma said dismissively. “You said you heard someone upstairs in the attic?”

“A few times,” Madison confirmed.

“Then let’s all go up there…”

“Fine, we can go up there,” Madison started to agree but was cut off.

“And do ‘Bloody Mary’ in the bathroom there!” Emma’s eyes looked positively devilish. Or at least Emma clearly thought they did.

Now it was Alora’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Emma, no, we shouldn’t—” Madison started.

“Scared, I get it,” Emma said. “Probably no ghosts anyway…”

“What would that prove?” Hailey asked. “Everyone knows ‘Bloody Mary’ is just an urban legend.”

“So you’re afraid too, okay…”

“What’d I miss?” Olivia said coming back in.

“Emma wants us to go upstairs and do ‘Bloody Mary’ in the haunted bathroom upstairs,” Alora filled her in.

“Noooooooope!” Olivia said at once and in the most incontrovertible way Alora believed she’d ever heard a girl her age decry something. Alora actually had a bit of respect for Olivia.

“What’s wrong,” Emma baited, “Scared Olivia?”

“Yep,” She said simply. “Have fun.”

Emma didn’t have a comeback for that, so she turned on the others. “What about you guys? Are you too scared of supposed ghosts, too?”

“I’m game,” Alora said.

“No one’s asking you,” Emma sneered.

“Actually, you literally just asked me…”

“I’ll go if Madison goes,” Hailey said, taking her friend’s hand.

That gesture seemed to inject Madison with fresh bravado. “Okay,” she said, “Let’s go.”

“I’ll keep the couch warm!” Olivia waved at the girls heading upstairs as she took another piece of pizza.

Madison crested the stairs first, opened the door to the attic room and quickly turned the lights on. Hailey, Emma, and Alora followed her into the tidy room. The wall opposite them canted in mirroring the roof, but otherwise the relatively small, spare space was mostly taken up by primly made-up queen bed. Beyond the bed, the door to the dark bathroom bumped against the door stop.

“What was that?” Hailey asked nervously.

“Probably just the air pressure when we opened the door,” Emma said. “Definitely not a ghost because ghosts aren’t real, and Madison is making this all up.” She crossed the room and stood in front of the bathroom. “Well? Let’s do this!”

The other girls followed her into the bathroom. Then Emma closed the door, plunging the bathroom into darkness.

Hailey squeaked.

“Are you ready?” Emma asked. “On three, ‘Bloody Mary’ three times, got it?”

Silence.

“One… two… three!”

And all three girls started chanting “Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary!”

After the third chant the four girls were silent. Nothing happened. Everyone could practically feel Emma’s “I told you so” self-righteous speech. But before Emma had started a light filled the mirror. It started as an indistinct white blob but quickly resolved into a skull with an ornate crown and blood dripping from the eye sockets.

“I AM BLOODY MARY!” the skull erupted an unnaturally high British accent. “AND I—”

The skull was clearly just warming up, but her self-declaration was all it took and Emma, Madison, and Hailey ran screaming from the bathroom.

“Oh,” The bloody skull stared after them. “Well, shit…”

“So, what? You didn’t think that was going to happen?” Alora asked.

This time the skull jumped. “Ah!” she let out a little shriek. “You didn’t run out?”

“It sounded like you had something else to say. Figured it’d be rude to run out on a bloody skull that was about to, I don’t know, announce she was going to eat our souls or something.”

“Heh,” the ghost skull chortled. “Yeah, I’m not much for the soul eating,” her voice changed from the faux-royal accent to a regular California accent. Then she laughed, “That was pretty fucking funny, though – you should have seen the look on that Emma bitch’s face!”

“Wow, language?”

“Wait, what? Are you shitting me?” the bloody skull said incredulously.

“Adults aren’t supposed to swear around kids,” Alora said because… well, it was true, right?

“Adults aren’t supposed to be dead and talking through a mirror, are they?”

Alora nodded thoughtfully, “Well, you’ve got me there…”

“Besides, please feel free to tell me the first fucking time I say a word you haven’t overheard your parents say.”

“Parent.”

“What?”

“Parent. My dad died. Maybe you know him on that side? Paul Rodriguez? About yay-tall,” Alora held her hand up. “Bald. Great sense of humor. I miss his laugh…”

“Jesus Christ, kid, that’s goddamned rough…” The bloody skull looked sad, or as sad as a bloody skull could look. “Wait, Paul Rodriguez? Did he grow up here?”

“Yeah. He and my mom both – he went to Elmsdale high and she went to Trinity.”

“Holy shit! He was friends with my little brother!”

Alora raised an eyebrow. “Look, I was only ten when he died, but I’m pretty sure if he was friends with Bloody Mary’s brother I’d have heard about it…”

The bloody skull let out a hearty laugh at that. “Sorry, kid, sorry!” She shook her skull face and the bloody skull in the mirror was replaced by a twenty-something woman with strawberry blonde hair and fair skin that made the wrinkles under her eyes seem far too old for far too young a face. “I’m obviously not Bloody Mary. But I couldn’t let that shit pass by, right? I’m Tracy.”

“I’m Alora. Nice to meet you, Tracy.”

“Alora?” Tracy cocked her head. “That’s a hell of a name. What’s your mom’s name?”

“Effie.”

“You are shitting me.”

“Never shit a ghost,” Alora said, the curse word feeling comfortable despite its forbiddance.

“Heh,” Tracy snorted. “I like you, Al,” she said.

Alora had never had a nickname. Well, her dad called her Allie, but he was the only one. And he was gone, so that didn’t count. “Al.” She could live with that.

“Your mom is Euphemia fucking Rivers!”

“How did you know that?”

“First, how many Euphemias are there in the state of California? Like for all time?! Second, how many Effie’s went to Trinity?!” Tracy took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. “She was my friend. One of the few.”

“Small world… and afterlife!” Alora said. “Tracy?”

“Yeah, Al?”

“I don’t want to be rude, but I’m a pariah as it is. If I don’t get back to them… I don’t even know….”

“They’re idiots, Al.”

“Yeah, and they’re the idiots I have to go to school with. Can we talk later? Can you… I don’t know transfer to the mirror at my house?”

“It doesn’t work that way. I can’t just… well, actually… that might work… Okay, when you get home go to your mirror and invite me.”

“Bloody Mary again?”

“No, Al, my name. Tracy Allen.”

“That’s a lot less creepy.”

“Agreed. Oh, and Al? Nice one with calling Emma a cow. That shit was on fire.”

Alora felt her cheeks flush with the compliment and managed, “Thanks Tracy. I’ll see you!”

Alora went back downstairs and the hushed conversations ceased when she entered.

“Alora!” Hailey ran up to her and hugged her. “We thought you died or something!”

I wasn’t worried if you had,” Emma said contemptuously. “What happened? Peed yourself?”

“Nah,” Alora said nonchalantly, “Just chatted with the ghost. She’s pretty cool.”

Silence.