Romancing the Afterlife

Night of the Living Crush

It was nearly a year later, only two days after the first anniversary of Jacks McRoyce’s party where the ‘Little White Walker Drowning Party’ incident occurred, ending the life of Lucy Little in an awful state of drunken affairs. For those that had still cared and wished to feel connected, there was a ceremony of mourning held at the McRoyce cottage between the hours of 2:00pm and 4:00pm. A small raft of flowers was made with a picture of Lucy Little in the center, as it was put in the water those that were remembering tossed undergarments and bathing suits onto the raft and watched it float away. There was then three minutes and eighteen seconds of silence between 2:42 and 2:45, and the group was invited into the cottage for some light snacks with coffee and tea. No alcoholic beverages were served. The group was left to chat and socialize amongst each other, presumably over their feelings, thoughts and memories of Lucy, but no one refused other subjects of conversation either.. For Raccoon Hill it was a notable though small social event that none of the Little’s or Cain Lewis were in attendance of.

Today was a Monday. The sun had only begun to peak over the horizon taking the sky from an empty black to a dark blue and now a softer grayish-blue. Daylight came close to its earliest this morning as summer solstice was just a day away. It was extremely quiet. There were no sounds of traffic yet. No one had left their house for work, and the cemetery happened to be away from the more busy areas of town. It was empty and dark surrounding the columns of tombstones, even in daylight the place brought a sense of solemn darkness. A few small lights flickered in the southwest end, where the smell of several burning fragrances culminated and dispersed into the air above. In between the dim light of the candles was a jagged drawn circle of red dye and white salt, encompassing a Rainbow Brite thong. All these items on the ground in front of the marble stone engraved with the name Lucy Little.

Cain sat cross-legged in front of the circle, concentrating on what he had derived from several read books. He knew he had little hope of accomplishing anything of any significance, but given the heavy amount of reading, trying nothing made less sense. He leaned forward and laid his hands down on the ground inside the circle, closing his eyes he meditated. He allowed himself to enter into a state of peace and calm. He visualized the things that brought him contentment, riding on a train, eating a Canadian poutine, beating a Zelda game, driving his dad’s car …..A few drops of rain landed on his head and hands. The weather channel had claimed a 20% chance of rain the night before. He regained his focus, thinking of all the moments he had spent around Lucy in his life, thinking of their shared time at the party, feeling some of her loss again, picturing her face once more, and picturing her face as they looked at eachother at the party. More rain came down, a little faster, a little steadier, he was getting frustrated. A small burst of thunder emphasized his frustration. Lucy’s eyes, Lucy’s lips, Lucy’s voice, how incredibly hot she was, and how he imagined she looked naked. The candles went out, the dye and salt ran and lost its shape. The ground was wet and Cain was drenched. He bit his lip and growled, slamming his hands on the ground, his eyes looking up at her headstone and desperately kept trying to hold on to her in his mind. The time she accidentally waved at him mistaking him for someone else, the bullshit rumours scribbled on the walls of bathroom stalls, and the tagged video of her tying a cherry stem in a bow with her tongue. He thought long and hard, sitting in the wet dirt he prayed for her. He prayed for her soul that was morally decent. He prayed for her freedom from the bonds that had drowned her. He prayed for her life that was ended too soon, her life to be returned and be a part of his life. To be alive again, so they both could have a second chance.

The rain stopped, it didn’t slow. It ended sudden and abruptly without a sound of rolling clouds or thunder. Cain looked up above him and the sky had brightened welcoming the morning, there were no storm clouds to be seen. Normally he would have already left by now. He pulled out a bag from his sweater and scooped up as much of his séance junk as quickly as he could. Standing up he kicked the dirt around trying to cover up the remainders of the salt and dye. He would throw the bag in the garbage once he got home. He took a brief look around as he stepped away from Lucy’s grave, expecting to see a cemetery of solitude. The shadow of a person stood on the other side of the cemetery, making him feel unsettled. The caretaker Jeffery Omery didn’t start for a few more hours, this was someone else.

Cain started walking towards the East corner with the fence that was still bent, hoping the stranger wouldn’t take notice of him. Instead they moved with him though, and as he quickened his pace so did they. He considered sprinting to the bush and fence to make his get away, but he knew it would only increase the suspicion. He looked over his shoulder and saw them closer to him now. He could make out the person now and was startled by their appearance. They wore a blue dress with no shoes. Their skin appeared to be closer to gray than any normal skin colour. They weren’t walking like a normal person either. The person moved unsteady, they hobbled and wobbled with their head down, groaning, face covered from their dry colourless hair like some sort of demon or ghost or drunk person. He tried to dart through the bush to escape through the fence opening, but immediately tripped in his panic and fell into the bush instead.

“What are you doing here?” The voice asked, soft and gravelly.

He couldn’t see them with all the green of the bush in his face. He only saw their muddy bare feet standing in front of him. His fear took hold of him and he called out in a high-pitched voice. “Nothing, just visiting a friend. Please don’t kill me and harvest my organs.”

To his plea the stranger coughed, gagged and cleared their throat, quite disgustingly, and replied, “Eww, that is so disgusting, like who says someth1ing like that?” The voice suddenly sounded more feminine and staggeringly familiar.

He sat himself up, raising his head out of the bush to finally see the face he had only seen in his mind the past year, except it was tired and dead looking. She loomed over him and his fear turned to euphoric curiousity. He recognized the sopping wet female stranger staring down at him, at least in part. She was a pale imitation of the girl he had known and had been picturing in his mind just minutes ago. She wore the same elegant blue dress he had seen her in that day, when she rested unmoving in her coffin. The stone had worked he realized, he had successfully managed to activate its power with his focus/alchemy/séance. And here was the proof, Lucy Little ready to be his faithful female companion for the rest of his life. Maybe she was a little less than he would have expected, but on the other hand beggars can’t be choosers and her existing alive at all was pretty amazing to start with.

“Lucy, you’re alive!”

“What are you talking about? Of course I’m alive.”

“Uhhhh ….,” he stood up to see her on her level, but took a step back further into the bush, because her dead eyes and serious face made him nervous. She didn’t look human, and he was confessing, “You didn’t used to be.” He kind of tensed in anticipation of her possible raging reaction.

“Yeah,” she nodded slowly and her neck creaked like old stairs, “That kind of makes sense. I swear like five minutes ago I was singing a karaoke duet with black Michael Jackson. And now …..I’m standing here in the rain with YOU?”

He felt a little embarrassed by her implication that she had been doing something better than being alive with him currently. “It sounds a bit strange, but there was this stone and it brought you back. I mean I brought you back, because I, my heart kind of broke when you were gone and I know that sounds ridiculous. It’s true though. I just, the stone made it a possibility. I mean I didn’t believe it because that’s crazy, but I had to try.” He gave her a look of innocent apology, like a puppy that knew it had upset you. “And now you are here.”

She stared at him in open wonder; even with cold dead eyes of black with no iris colour, she looked dumbfounded. She brought her head down into her hands like she had a headache. When she raised her head again, she actually saw her hands. They were gray and her fingers were thin. She turned them over, looking at them from the back. Some of her fingernails were cracked or missing all together. She started breathing heavy, and Cain worried she might be having an asthma attack. She lifted her arm following the look of her skin all the way up to her shoulder. “s**t!” she cried. She shook her head slowly, trying to get a grip on the situation. She rubbed the knuckles of her right hand, “Ugh, there isn’t enough lotion in the world to fix this.”

“I’m sorry.” Cain said, not knowing what else he could say.

“You should be. I’m hideous aren’t I?”

“I’m just so glad to have you back, but why didn’t you come out of the grave?”

“How the hell would I know?” she said shrugging, “Don’t change the subject!”

He smiled are her like he was happy to see her upset, when he was relieved to see something close to normal Lucy behaviour, “You’ll be alright. There are more important things than looks. Like life for instance”

She groaned like he’d told her a bad joke, “I want to die all over again. Look Cain, this has been great, I mean thank you but I really need to get out of here. Go home, shower, use a whole bottle of conditioner on my hair, and get out of this stupid dress. Cain I told my mother I wouldn’t be caught dead in this dress, and clearly I was! She made me wear this to prom, can you believe it?! The woman has no taste.”

“I like it,” he said surprised by her dislike for the dress, but more surprised by her rather fast acceptance of the circumstances. Before he could think about it though, she gave him a friendly punch in the arm and started heading off towards the entrance. Cain stood there bewildered; watching her just walk away like it was nothing. He never thought she could have such an easy transition back to life or back to her normal self. It was as if she had never died, but she had and everyone knew it, and even worse she looked it.

“Wait!” he shouted racing to catch up to her. She stopped at the gate, watching him stumble and trip all over the place trying to reach her. He was out of breath once he’d made it to her and had to pause for a couple deep breaths, which sounded more like annoying wheezes to Lucy. “You’re officially dead, you can’t just go home. It’s really early and you look …….you don’t look like you did before. You go home and you’ll freak your family out.”

Lucy thought about this, it was a tricky situation. She had only been thinking of her own sudden discomfort mixed with relief that she wasn’t dead. She hadn’t considered the ramifications of her arrival. None of this had really sunk in yet. It was all too real and new, she barely remembered dying, like it was all a dream. She had always been really good with life changes and adjustments, but this was a bit fast. She certainly didn’t want to give her mother a heart attack first thing in the morning. “Fine, suggestions?”

Cain pulled off his jacket and covered her with it. “I’m not cold,” she said. It wasn’t for the cold though it was to hide her from view. He pulled the jacket up over her head and she held it there. They both headed to the front gate, Cain climbed over and Lucy squeezed through. Cain led the way and she followed with her dirty gray bare feet, in beat up fancy blue dress and a jacket over her head. They did their best to remain inconspicuous. On the way she explained to him her arrival as she remembered it. She claimed she had just opened her eyes and was standing in the cemetery without a clue, and then saw him in the distance. It didn’t make much sense to either of them.