Maybe This Time (39 page)

The tears came back with a vengeance this time, and she put her face in the sweater and cried hard for the poor sweet parapsychologist who'd just wanted to see a ghost and had finally seen one right before he died.

It's all right, Andie.

Andie sniffed the tears back and looked toward the door, expecting to see North, but it was still closed. “North?” She put the cardigan down in her lap and wiped her eyes. “Hello?” she called.

That's my cardigan. It's okay, I don't need it, but—

“Dennis?”
Andie jerked her head around. “Dennis, is that you? I can't see you.”

I'm dead,
the voice said reasonably.

“And yet, that's not a problem with those other people from hell who keep showing up.” Andie clutched the sweater to her. “Dennis, is it really you? How do I know it's you?”

I don't know. We really didn't have time to get to know one another well, although I do think a bond was formed under stress. That's often common in wartime. And of course, you've become attuned to supernatural elements because of your concern for Alice, which strengthened the telepathic connection, although Alice isn't here now, so I'm going to have to look at that hypothesis again
—

“Okay, it's you.” Andie looked around the room, still trying to catch of glimmer of
something
to talk to. “Oh, Dennis,
how are you
?”

Dead.

“I
know,
” Andie said, feeling horrible again. “I'm so sorry. Is it awful?”

No. I don't think it's something I'd choose, given the choice, which of course I wasn't
. . .

Andie clutched his cardigan, trying hard not to cry. “Dennis, are you suffering?”

Oh, no. In fact, in many ways it's wonderful. Andie, there really are ghosts!

Annoyance replaced pity. “Yes, Dennis, we talked about that.”

Something moved out of the corner of her eye, and Andie turned, but there was nothing there.

But now I
know.
It's amazing.

“What's it like? Tell me it's not awful.”

There's no feeling at all. Well, no physical feeling. There are emotions, of course.

“Emotions,” Andie said. “Are you sad?”

No. In fact, I'm rather jubilant. There are
ghosts,
they're real!

“I don't see that as the upside here.”

Yes, but I didn't believe you. I couldn't
talk
to them. And now . . .

“You can?” Andie held his sweater closer. “Can you tell them to go away?”

They can't.

Andie felt a chill to her left, a draft, probably, but she turned that way, just in case.

They're tied to something in the house. They have to stay here.

“Okay, how do we evict them? A séance?”

Another one? It's getting pretty crowded here on this side already, I don't think you want to take out another civilian.

“Four of you now.”

Yes, and some of us aren't quite top drawer.

“How upsetting for you.” She waited a minute and then said, “Dennis? Did one of them kill you?”

I think so.

“Which one?”

I don't know. I was sitting on the couch talking to May—she's lovely, Andie—and then she left, and all of a sudden this
thing
rose up out of the carpet like a dark, screaming cloud, and I died.

“It scared you to death?”

I wouldn't think so. But I'm dead, so it's a reasonable hypothesis.

Andie looked at the carpet. “It's just a carpet, Dennis.”

Well, something came out of it and here we are.

She got down on her hands and knees to see what she could find—
ectoplasm in the broadloom?
—and when she got up, her hands were dirty, covered in a fine, dark dust. “What's this stuff?”

I don't know. I'd wash it off. It might be deadly.

“I think it's just dirt.” She dusted her hand off. “Okay, we have to get rid of the ghosts. It was probably Peter who killed you. You weren't threatening Alice in any way so Miss J wouldn't go after you, and May was sitting with you, right?”

It's a moot point now. It's not like we can bring them to justice. I think the best course is for us all to leave.

“Yes, that had occurred to all of us, too.” Andie tried to pull her thoughts together and a new wrinkle popped up. “Wait a minute. I can hear you but I can't see you. Oh, hell, Dennis, you're a crisis apparition!”

I wish all my students paid attention the way you do, Andie. That's very astute.

“But that means this is it.” Andie looked around wildly for him. “You're going to . . . go toward the light or something. I mean, that's good, you should do that, but we don't have much time.”

Well, the light is definitely here. Annoying, too. It's really a blessing I don't need sleep now, because that light would make it impossible.

“So what have you come to tell me?” Andie said. “I mean, the message you have to deliver before you go. Was it to leave the house? Because I'm on it.”

I'm not going. I'm not leaving you and May to deal with those mad discarnate entities.

“That's sweet, Dennis. But really—”

May has a beautiful soul. You should see it.

“I've seen it. It's been in me. Not that beautiful.”

No, no, she has a voluptuous soul.

“Dennis, are you leering?”

The ghostly laughter ended in asthmatic coughing, which was a comfort.

“You okay there?”

Yes. You'd think now that I don't have lungs—

“Dennis, if you're a crisis apparition, we don't have time for this. If you have any advice on how to get rid of those things, now's the time to share.”

Well, of course, they'd be weaker if everybody would just stay calm.

“Crumb and Kelly and her cameraman are gone.”

That's a help,
Dennis said.

“Who are you talking to?” North said, and Andie turned to see him in the doorway.

“Get in here and shut the door,” Andie said, standing up. “We have a new . . . wrinkle.”

North came in and shut the door. “I don't want a wrinkle.”

Andie turned back to where she thought Dennis was. “Can he hear you?”

I don't know,
Dennis said.
You're the only one who's heard me so far. Besides May, of course. She has a—

“Voluptuous soul, I know.” Andie looked at North. “Did you hear that?”

“Voluptuous soul?” North said, looking confused.

“Okay, here's the short version. Dennis is here. I think he's a crisis apparition, which means he can't stay long and shouldn't stay long because he's got to go toward the light—”

I really think that's an option.

“—because we don't want him to miss the bus to Paradise. But he's staying because he's worried about the ghosts and because he's attracted to May—”

I wouldn't say “attracted.” We have mutual interests.

“—and so he's dragging his feet,” Andie finished. She turned
back in the direction of Dennis. “Maybe you could take the rest of the ghosts with you. Get them a seat on the bus, too—”

I'm not going.

“Dennis, this is the
afterlife
we're talking about here.”

Yes, and it's my afterlife. I'm staying here. I'd like to go to Cincinnati and give that fraud Boston Ulrich the scare of his life, but I can't seem to leave—

“Andie?” North said, concern in his voice.

Andie turned back to him. “I swear to God, he's here, North. I am not crazy, Dennis is here.”

“Well, this is where he died,” North said reasonably. “On the other hand, I would remind you that you're grieving and he's dead.”

“That's what I'm trying to tell him,” Andie said, exasperated. “Go toward the light. But now that he's dating May—”

Andie!

“Andie, I know you liked Dennis a lot, but he's dead.”

You told him you liked me a lot?

“Not
now,
Dennis. He's here, North. I don't care whether you believe me or not, he's here. What are you doing?”

He sat down next to her on the couch and put his arm around her. “I was thinking—”

If you're going to neck, you should probably do it somewhere else,
Dennis said.
I can't seem to leave this couch.

“The couch?” Andie said. “You're tied to the couch?”

North looked around. “Who's tied to the couch?”

“Dennis,”
Andie said to him, exasperated.

I can't seem to move away from it,
Dennis said.
I'm hoping that's temporary. I don't want to be a supernatural couch potato. Heh heh heh.
He coughed then, asthmatic wheezing from beyond the grave, and Andie gave up.

“I have to take the kids lunch,” she said, standing up. “If I don't see you again, it was a pleasure knowing you.”

“Andie, Dennis is dead,” North said, gently but firmly.

I'm not going anywhere,
Dennis said, and Andie gave up on both of them and went to the kitchen.

 

Andie carried the lunch tray up to the nursery. Both kids were in bed, Alice with her Walkman and Rose Bunny, and Carter with a comic book.

“So,” Andie said. “About Dennis.”

“He came back?” Carter said.

“Yes. How'd you know?”

“Did he say who'd killed him?”

“No. He said it was just this thing that came out of the carpet.”

“Black cloud,” Alice said, and picked up her sandwich.

“Okay,” Carter said and went back to his comic book.

“Can I go talk to him?” Alice said, and Andie was tempted to let her, but with any luck Dennis would have found his way to the light by now, and Alice would have one fewer person on her chatting-with-the-dead list.

“Maybe later,” Andie said. “Eat your lunch.”

She went out onto the gallery and heard voices below, so she looked over the railing to see North below, talking to Southie, and went around the corner of the gallery and through the stone archway to the stairs so she could join them.

Something surged up out of the carpet, black and stinging, swirling into a solid mass of staring death's-head, and she screamed and turned blindly to run only to see May rushing toward her, her face a skull as she screamed like a banshee, and Andie turned, screaming again, caught between the two horrors, and fell, hitting the rickety rail around the gallery with her shoulder, feeling it give way, reaching out and grasping only air, and then somebody caught her arm and dragged her back and the ghosts were gone and she was gasping on the carpet, looking at the gaping hole in the gallery railing, with Isolde bending over her, still holding on to her arm.

“Bastards,” Isolde said calmly.

“Yeah,” Andie said, shaking as she tried to sit up.

“What stopped you from going over?”

“You,” Andie said, thinking,
JESUS CHRIST, WHAT WAS THAT??

“Nope, I got here at the end and caught your arm, but before that you were headed straight for that railing and then you turned away.”

“May.” Andie tried to calm down enough to think. “May was there.”

“Who was the other one?”

“I don't know. This
stuff
just came out of the carpet. That's what Dennis said. He said this thing came out of the carpet . . .”

Isolde reached down and picked up some of the black particles. “It's dirt. Whatever it was just pulled up all the dirt in the carpets and threw it at you.”

“It was more than that, it was a
shape, a skull,
” Andie said, and then North ran through the arch and said,
“What the hell?”

“They tried to kill her,” Isolde said as North pulled Andie up into his arms.

“What happened?” North said, looking into Andie's eyes. “Are you all right?”

“Isolde grabbed me before I went through the rail,” Andie said, trying to sound normal, but wanting to hold on to him, just the same. “It's the way May died. The ghosts killed May and now they're coming after us. We have to get rid of them, North.” She looked at Isolde. “I want another séance. I want to pull them in so we can look at them, find out—”

“Harold's gone,” Isolde said. “I can't work without a spirit guide.”

“Well, give it a shot,” Andie said. “We'll put Flo in the nursery with the kids—”

“Lydia,” Isolde said. “I need Flo. I need believers.”

“Okay, Lydia, and we'll make it work this time.”

It's never worked before.

Andie turned and saw May floating in front of the broken railing. “Thank you. I know you saved me.”

If there'd been someone there for me, I wouldn't have died.

“I'm sorry, I really am, May, you got such a raw deal on this. But thank you for stopping me.”

Yeah, you owe me,
May said, and then smiled her beautiful smile.
You're welcome.

“Can you be Isolde's spirit guide at the séance?” Andie said.

“Wait a minute,” Isolde said.

You should ask Dennis,
May said.
He'd love that. He's very career-minded.

“Dennis,” Andie said to Isolde. “Unless he's left us.”

“I could do Dennis,” Isolde said, and Andie went downstairs to see if he'd gone toward the light yet.

 

Half an hour later, Lydia was upstairs hearing the Princess Alice story, and Andie, Isolde, Flo, Southie, and a reluctant North were at the table they'd dragged in from the Great Hall and put in front of Dennis's couch which Dennis was refusing to leave.