I Woke Up Dead at the Mall (13 page)

Home.

We could all do it. We could pass through the door. I worried that it might be tougher for Lacey, since she could actually make contact with things. But she slipped right through along with the rest of us. (Never underestimate Lacey.)

“Wow. Nice place, Sarah,” Nick said. “A shame you had to die and stop living in the lap of luxury.”

“I take it you had your own bedroom?” Alice asked. “In my day, that was unheard-of.”

“My room is upstairs,” I said.

“You have an
upstairs?
” Lacey asked with a heavy dose of anger in her voice. Her arms were folded over her chest, and her face was carved with a deep scowl. “If we were alive, I'd probably hate you. And try to beat you up.”

“We're here to save Sarah's father,” Nick said. (Thanks for the subject change.) “We need to look for anything that might be poison. Let's destroy whatever supply she has.”

“You mean me.” Lacey puffed up a bit. “You mean
I
destroy the supply. After all, I'm the destroyer.”

I stopped everything and smiled at her. “And I'm forever grateful. Really.”

Nick clapped to get our attention. “Let's start the search in the kitchen, then the bedroom and the bathroom.”

“Bathrooms,” I corrected him quietly.

Lacey placed both fists on her hips. “Did you actually have your own bathroom? You would have been so easy to hate.”

Before I could say a word, Alice said, “My family shared a filthy water closet down the hall with three other families. We've all had our trials. We all got ourselves killed. All right?”

“And now”—Nick picked up the thread—“we have one day here, so let's get to work.”

We threw ourselves into it. Starting with the bathrooms, ending with the kitchen. Search, search, look, look. Nothing.

“I don't even know what we're looking for,” I complained. “How will we know if we find it?”

Nick shook his head. “Come on, now. Think. It won't be marked with a skull and crossbones. It'll be disguised, so this won't be easy. But we'll find it.”

Search, search, look, look.

The kitchen was stocked with kale, quinoa, beets, Brazil nuts, sardines, and gluten-free bran muffins. For a moment I was glad to be dead.

“It'd be easy to hide it in the vitamin supplements,” Nick suggested as we studied the shelf of vitamins. She had the whole alphabet of stuff in stock.

“You said something about her offering him tea at the end of the funeral,” Nick reminded me. (This boy really paid attention.) “Maybe it's already in the tea?” He pointed to a big glass jar next to the sink. It was filled with dried green and
brown tea leaves and herbs. It was labeled
HEART AND SOUL TEA
.

“If this is what she's using to poison him, it either already has the poison, or the gross taste of it disguises the poison,” Lacey reasoned (brilliantly). “This has to go.” She flicked at the jar's side. It didn't budge. “This thing's a lot heavier than a Lego,” she explained. She looked a bit disappointed in herself.

“Lacey, you can do this,” Nick urged her. “Knock this thing down.”

We all gathered around her and watched as she flicked, pushed, nudged, and hit. For me the attention would have been paralyzing, but Lacey fed off our energy and focus. She loved it. She made contact twice, and we all heard it. She let out a small grunt as she pushed against the jar again. Again. Again. I was beginning to think that she might tell me she was giving up. But not Lacey. She smashed against the jar and it shattered into the sink.

Lacey was a little out of breath and a lot proud.

“Can you turn on the water? And tap that button?” I asked her. She did, and the tea went down the garbage disposal. Gone for good. Maybe it wasn't enough to save Dad, but it was a start.

A really, really good one.

Where was Dad? I was waiting around for him, but I didn't see him. Where the hell was he? And where was murderous, lying, evil Karen?

“Maybe he's at work?” Alice suggested.

No way. If she began poisoning him at my funeral, he should be in pretty bad shape. And even my dad, the workaholic of all time, would be too sick for work.

“Okay, look,” Lacey said in her take-charge voice. “We only get one day here, and no offense, but I don't want to spend it staring at you guys and waiting for somebody to come home. I have to go. I have to find Jorge. I have a message for him.”

There was a dark silence after that. Lacey couldn't be heard by the living, so her message was going to be physical, I guess. I didn't want to know the details.

“It isn't all about
you
, ya know,” Lacey added. “I got my own unfinished business and I gotta go finish it. So does Nick.”

She was right.

“Sarah.” Nick sounded so tentative. He was tiptoeing on thin ice with each word. “I need to check on my mom. I have no idea how she's doing. And there's nobody else to look after her. I have to. Really.”

Here's what I didn't say: Everybody please, please stay here and help me because my unfinished business is more important than your unfinished business because mine is mine. So shut up. Sit tight. We're going to wait for my dad and evil Karen.

Here's what I did say: “Thank you, guys. All of you. You've already been so generous, using part of your haunting time to help me. Please go and do what you have to do. We'll all meet up in the park when it's time to go back.” Because that's what I absolutely had to say. It nearly killed me, except that I was dead.

Nick did that half grin and wrapped me up in his arms. I
closed my eyes, grateful that his scent translated here to the real world. It was sort of like taking some kind of meds to calm me down. (Or rev me up. Not sure.) His kiss changed my body chemistry. I was convinced that joy was now part of my DNA, thanks to Nick. His face pressed against the side of my neck.

“I don't get what you see in her,” Lacey said to Nick. He and I broke from our kiss with a laugh.

I must let him go (stay). I must let him go (stay). I must let him go (stay).

Lacey disappeared through the door, and Nick was next. He paused for a bit, and I sort of leapt to the fantasy that he might stay.
(Stay!)

“See you soon!” he called. “Be strong. You can do this!” He was gone in an instant.

I stared at the door, not sure if I was looking for Nick to change his mind or for the door to unlock and reveal my dad.

“Now, now. You're not going to waste this opportunity just sitting here like a bump on a log!” said Alice.

Alice! I had completely forgotten that she was even there. She looked rather stern. For Alice.

“I can stay with you,” Alice explained. “After all, the people from my time are long dead. So let's go to your father's place of work. Perhaps he's strong enough to be there.”

Not at work. Not near work. Not at his favorite restaurant. Not at his doctor. And my one single solitary day here on Earth was slipping through my fingers.

“What if we're too late? What if he's dead?” I asked Alice as we floated through and among the very well-dressed population of the cool downtown Manhattan scene, searching place after place. We were adrift in Tribeca.

“He's alive. If he were dead, you'd know,” Alice assured me. “There would be signs of it at home or at work. Death leaves a big footprint.” And that made sense to me. “He's alive. You just don't know where he is.”

“What if he's in a hospital somewhere? Which one? How would I find him?” I asked her/me. It was an impossible question.

“Oh! Did you have a vacation home?” Alice suggested. “Could he be there?”

“No. Dad worked all the time, so we weren't big on vacations,” I explained. “Do you think the Boy will give me
an extension? Let me have one day here
while my dad's around
?”

“No, Sarah. They won't allow that, I'm quite sure.” She stopped talking. Her breathing was quick and shallow. She pointed west, but she couldn't seem to manage any more words. She came out with “Oh. Ohhhhh.”

“Alice? What is it? What's over there?”

“There.” She pointed to a brick and stone building that housed a chic-looking Portuguese restaurant. “That's where.”

“Where what?”

She went toward it. Drawn almost (almost) against her will. And then I knew. Of course. “Is this where you died?”

She nodded, mute. “It was a factory back then. Some of the front is the same as it was. Only some.”

We entered the restaurant and I said gently, “Hey, Alice. Let's get a table.”

Alice looked at me as if I'd just expressed a completely revolutionary thought. We needed to search for my dad, we needed to save him. I knew that. But she needed to do this first. I owed it to her.

She followed me to a table in the back. The restaurant wasn't very busy yet. The menu was written in silver paint on an antique mirror. I couldn't pronounce any of it. But it looked pretty.

Alice was working so hard to hold herself together, that much was obvious. The place was charged with electric energy that coursed through her and only her. All I could do was watch. And listen.

“What ever became of Joe O'Hara?” I asked.

“He died,” Alice said, her voice even and expressionless.
“Bertha told me. It was his liver. His death was slow. But not painful. They have drugs for that. Alas.”

“Did you ever meet up with him?” I asked, sort of horrified. “In the afterlife?”

Alice shook her head. “The Boy is capricious. But not quite that cruel.”

We watched the beautiful people around us as they studied the menu by flickering candlelight.

“The entrance was over there.” She pointed to the left. “The stairs all the way back there. I was upstairs when it happened.” She looked up at the ceiling and stared at it for so long, I wondered if she could see through it.

“This place isn't evil,” she said at last. “It's just that something bad happened here. It's just that a very bad man was here. A long time ago.”

She stared in silence for a while longer. There were candles flickering on every table, creating a soft, ethereal space.

“It's nice that the place is pretty now,” she said. “And it's all about food. And romance. Did you ever have a beau when you were alive?”

“No,” I answered. “That was for other people. Not for me.”

“So. What has changed?” Alice had a small smile as she spoke.

Alice was adding to the list of impossible questions. Yes, something had changed. Actually, everything had changed.

Two very beautiful men were being escorted to our table. We hopped out of the seats and glided away.

“That may be a nice restaurant, but I think I prefer the food court,” I said as we left. Back out on the sidewalk, the place lost some of its hold on Alice.

“He lives on, you know,” she said, walking away from it. Not looking back. “Joe O'Hara. He had children. And grandchildren. And great-grandchildren. The world is full of Joe O'Haras.” She walked a bit faster. “My family died off.”

I couldn't keep walking. “Oh, Alice. I'm so sorry.”

She stopped and turned to face me. Sorrow was a kind of mist all around her, melting into the dark blue of the evening light.

“Me too.” She choked out the words, then gathered her strength. “Now. What are we doing here? We need to save your father from his evil wife.”

My home was still empty and dark, and I thought that the cruel frustration of my plight could just possibly push me over the edge to complete insanity. Alice must have sensed it.

“Your home overlooks the park,” she exclaimed. “We'll go. We can watch for him there. Would you mind?”

“Of course not. It's your haunting too.” And it was a good idea. I could wait there for signs of his return. But truly, Alice and I could drink in all the light and sparkle of life around us. And maybe it would stop me from losing my mind.