Grave Danger (3 page)

Henry interrupted. “Eleanor can always tell when a
new one of us is made or comes to the area. She can sense them,
even from miles away.” Henry absently reached out and touched
Eleanor’s finger tips over the smooth table top for a brief second
before pulling away. “It’s an amazing gift, Eleanor has. There
isn’t much that get’s past her. She’s too intuitive for anyone to
escape her notice.”

“
Yeah, it’s a real pain in the ass when you’re
trying to pull off a really big stunt and she pulls the rug out
from under you. I was this close to getting us in the papers and
she goes and rats me out to the spectral feds.” The man continued
to grumble under his breath to himself. He appeared to Clarissa to
be younger than both Eleanor and Henry, but perhaps a year or two
older than herself.

His black hair was spiked up in a messy doo that
looked very much like something rock stars had worn in the early
eighties. His outfit made that theory much more plausible. Where
Henry and Eleanor were stylishly attired in modern fashion casual
wear, he wore scruffy dated jeans and a vintage t-shirt. The man
was hopelessly stuck in the eighties.

“
This is Richard Pomar, our resident
poltergeist.” Henry indicated the spiked haired ghost. “He’s a punk
who thinks it’s funny to scare the tourists with his ghostly
antics.”

Richard sneered at Henry. “What else is there to do
around this snooze town? That’s what being a ghost is supposed to
be about, scaring the shit out of the living. It’s what they want.
What do you think they all flock here for?” He mused up his already
chaotic looking hair, casting a wicked grin at Clarissa.

“
I just give the people what they want. It is
one of the most haunted cities in the south next to New Orleans. If
anything, I’m just keeping up business.”

“
Richard is a self appointed Public Relations
for spooks,” Eleanor interjected with a little giggle.

“
Exactly,” he said, making haunting noises in
the back of his throat. Eleanor laughed harder at his
antics.

Henry frowned. Haunting the living was fine, but
even that got old after a few decades. Richard had died mere
twenty-some years ago. He was still ‘living’ up his newly acquired
ghost hood. But in time he would fall into the trap that all aged
ghosts felt.

At some point, they all began questioning the
purpose of their existence. What was the point of this existence on
this earth past the point of living? Many of the living believed
them unnatural and godless creatures and that perhaps this was a
means of punishment. Henry wasn’t sure that was true, but it could
be. Was there something waiting for them in the near future, or was
this all there would ever be? Just as in life, death seemed tedious
and monotonous at times. Every day was a constant struggle to
remain hopeful that their existence was not just a fluke of
nature.

“
Where’s our order,” Richard yelled to the
crowded room, bringing Henry back to himself. A few ghosts on the
opposite side of the room took notice, raising their eyebrows and
looking at each other with knowing expressions. Richard was in his
usual pleasant mood. His outburst didn’t faze them as they returned
to their own conversations. “I swear we’ve been waiting an
eternity,” Richard continued. “Shake a leg back there,” he ranted.
Turning to talk to his own table, he turned to speak to Clarissa.
“Some of them move like death warmed over. Just because their dead
don’t mean they have to move at a corpse pace,” he
complained.

Clarissa wasn’t sure how to respond. The living took
no notice of Richards rant except for a few of them who rubbed the
chill bumps from their arms. When a ghost becomes overly emotional,
the living could detect them, but not always.

“
Don’t be so impatient, sugar,” Eleanor chided
kindly in her soft Georgia accent. “It’s busy tonight. Our order
will be out shortly.” She looked at Henry. “Perhaps you could go
see how things are going in back. And order something for yourself
and Clarissa. I haven’t seen so much dead in one place since the
civil war ended,” she said in joke.

Henry nodded in agreement, scowling at Richard as he
got up to see what was going on in the kitchen. It was indeed
packed tight in the place. Just as he was about to go through the
connecting door that led to the kitchen, a spectral waiter came out
from the other side, nearly colliding with him.

Nearly running into each other, Henry managed to
move aside, out of the way of the waiter and his large tray.

“
Hey, Henry,” the waiter called. “Sorry, I
didn’t see you.” He held an oversize tray of tall beers and plates
of food. There were a couple of thick milk shakes too. The dead
didn’t have to concern themselves with counting calories. It wasn’t
like they could have a heart attack or some other health issue that
plagued the living.

“
Don’t worry about it,” Henry responded
casually. “Busy tonight, isn’t it?” he asked as more people filed
in through the front door.

The waiter set his tray down on a nearby stand.
“You’re telling me. It’s like half the town is here.” He moved his
hand over the tray and the plates hovered up from it, the beers
following suit along with the shakes. They floated through the
atmosphere on their journey to the ghostly patrons at one of the
tables. He turned to look back at Henry. “We’re just about out of
our supplies for the living. I had to go send a couple of staff on
an emergency grocery run.”

“
Well, I guess it’s better than having no
business at all,” Henry pointed out. They were lucky people were
still willing to come out and eat, especially after dark. They had
gone to great lengths to keep the stories of the others out of the
local papers for fear that it would cause them to lose the draw of
tourists. The city lived off its tourism, just like many of
Florida’s cities. But if tourists knew what prowled the streets at
night, most would likely never come back.

The man nodded in understanding. “You’re right. I
don’t mean to complain. I know we’re lucky to still be in business
what with,” he trailed off. It didn’t bear talking about. He
quickly changed direction. “It’s just that the living staff tires
out a lot faster and they can’t work as long. We thought about
cutting our hours so they could go home before full dark, but we
can’t afford to lose that kind of money.” He scratched his head at
the problems they were dealing with. He was in charge of keeping
tabs on both the living and dead staff members. Right now, his job
was becoming more difficult.

Focusing his attention on Henry, “Anyway,” he said,
picking up his tray and folding it under his arm. “So what can I
get you?” he asked, materializing a pad and pen in his hand. He
waited expectantly for Henry’s order.

“
I’m with the table over there,” pointing to
where Eleanor, Richard and now Clarissa were sitting.

The waiter gazed over at the table in the far
corner. The blonde woman and the black haired man he knew from
other encounters with them in the city. But the second woman he had
never laid eyes on before tonight.

She was rather young looking with long straight
brown hair and bright brilliant blue eyes. With his exceptional
vision, even from this distance, he could see the blue of her
irises darkened around the edges to a darker cobalt blue. Her skin,
which had likely been pale in life, was even more pronounced in
death. It made her hair seem that much darker and her eyes look
like sparkling jewels next to her porcelain skin.

“
I got the two there,” he indicated the older
woman and man, “Their orders should be coming up soon. I can put
yours and the other woman’s with them. It won’t take that much
longer. So what’ll you have?”

Henry looked to where the others were sitting,
watching Clarissa as she gazed about the busy tavern, taking notice
of everything. It was all so new to her. Like a child she was
staring intently at a table full of ghosts who were drinking and
chatting loudly. Clarissa was likely surprised with how
normal
they appeared. But the dead
were normal humans. For ghosts, death didn’t diminish their
humanity. They just lived a different lifestyle from the living
world.

Henry turned his focus back to the spectral waiter.
“We’ll have the same as them. I don’t think Clarissa is a picky
eater.”

He jotted down their orders on his pad. Using
his pen he pointed to Clarissa, “She’s new here isn’t she? I don’t
think I’ve ever seen her at
Happy
Haunts
before.”

“
Yes,” Henry spoke quietly, not wanting to be
overheard. Death was a sensitive matter. “She’s
new,
if you know what I mean. She passed away a
few days ago in Orlando. She just got in today, but I imagine she
has been wandering around out of sorts. It was her birthday and I
thought we could do something special for her to make her feel
welcome.” Henry finally managed to remember the waiter’s name.
Sometimes he was bad with names.

“
It’s Josh, isn’t it?”

Josh nodded, still looking at the woman.

“
Do you think Clare could whip something up
for her? I know it’s busy and you’re all over worked.”

Josh continued to stare at the young woman with whom
they were conversing over, but lost inside his own head.

He himself had died some sixty years back and even
though he’d been dead for awhile now, the memories of his first few
days as a ghost still haunted his existence. Much of his memories
of life were vague recollections. As if that part of his life had
been nothing but a dream. Death had overshadowed that reality and
for some time it was difficult to even recall being alive.

Now after so much time had passed he was able to
separate and examine both sides of himself, his past as a living
man and his present as a ghost. He couldn’t help but feel sorry for
what she would have to deal with in this existence. But it couldn’t
be changed. However, if there was any way to make it easier on her,
he would try to see if he could help.

“
Yeah,” he responded, with a mental shake
bringing him back on point. “I’ll see what I can do. Maybe she’d
like it if I brought some of the other staff to come out to greet
her too.”

Henry agreed that would be something that would
please Clarissa. With that settled, Josh went back into the kitchen
while Henry made his way back to his table and a still irate
Richard.

“
Well,” Richard asked impatiently as Henry
took his seat.

“
It should be another few minutes,” Henry
answered, leaning back in his chair.

“
Jesus,” Richard swore loudly, “How hard is it
to manifest a couple of beers and some hamburgers? It’s not like
she’s creating a culinary masterpiece.” He slumped in his chair
very much like an impatient child. “I’d fucking starve to death if
I wasn’t already dead to begin with.”

“
You know you’re not making a good first
impression in front of Clarissa,” Henry barked back with a tilt of
his head in Clarissa’s direction, as he pointed out the obvious to
the moody ghost. “You’re giving in to the stereotype that ghosts
are whiney.

Richard made a derisive snort at that comment,
folding his arms across his chest.

“
I suggest you stop acting like a dick and
start behaving more like the respectable ghost you should be by
now.”

The two men glowered at one another. Clarissa
glanced at the petite blonde, Eleanor. The woman simply shrugged
her small shoulders and smiled sweetly back at her. Apparently the
two men didn’t get along so well despite being friends. Apparently
it was best not to interfere.

While Henry had gone to see about their order and
had stopped to talk to the waiter, Clarissa had taken the
initiative to introduce herself fully to the two ghosts across from
her. They had both been more than pleased to have her join their
community. It was extremely comforting to know that she wouldn’t be
alone in her death. And from what she could see of ghostly life, it
wasn’t that much different from that of the living. They drank and
laughed and behaved like any other normal human being.

The four of them sat quietly for several minutes,
listening to the sounds of the old city. The living were living it
up good tonight, the dead not that far behind.

Eleanor was the first to break the silence. She
turned to look at Henry across from her. Henry, take notice of her
beautiful blue eyes on him, stopped frowning immediately.

“
Is Clarissa going to be staying with Mrs.
Connors? I know she would be pleased to have her.”

Henry nodded in assent.

“
That’s good. I just saw her this morning on
Cordova and I told her I thought she’d have a new guest staying
with her tonight.” Eleanor smiled to herself as she recalled the
living woman.

Turning her attention to Clarissa she continued.
“Mrs. Connors is the sweetest living woman you’ll ever meet. She’ll
probably fuss over you like you were her own baby girl. She’s like
that. It’s so sweet.”

Henry interjected. “Most of the new citizens of our
community stay with her until we can find a permanent residence for
them.” He looked questioningly at Clarissa. “I hope you won’t mind
sharing a place with a living. If you do, I could set you up in a
hotel for awhile.”

“
No, I don’t mind,” she assured him. “This
Mrs. Connors sounds like a decent living and I don’t mind staying
with her. Then I guess she can see us.” She remembered Eleanor
saying that she and the living woman had spoken. “How is it that
she can see us, but none of the others can?” waving her hand at the
living patrons in the tavern.