A Night in Kellum Hall

As we rounded West Tennessee Street in Tallahassee and went through the main gate at Florida State, I had two dueling emotions - elation and sadness at the same time.  The excitement of starting a new phase of your life but sadly reflecting on who and what you had left behind - my beautiful Etta and my mother who tried to make me a society maven like her.  Just 10 hours earlier I was still in my room that I had lived in since I was a toddler and now I was going to spend the night in a new place with new people.  I knew I would be home for the holidays and summer breaks, but I would miss not seeing them every day.  

My father pulled the red Corolla in front of Kellum Hall as a Resident Assistant name Chad asked my name and if I had my room assignment.  I pulled out my paperwork and smiled at my dad because the road to getting here had been perilous.  My ability to see the dead had made a normal childhood all but impossible and even as we drove from Atlanta to Florida, we had encountered ghosts from the past - Klansmen who needed to be banished to the hell they had sentenced others to in their lifetime.  Needless to say it was a long drive physically, spiritually, and emotionally.  It was also 8:00 pm so check-in for the day was coming to a close. 

Chad told me that the dorm was co-ed but the girls' floors were on the top and the boy’s floors were on the bottom.  My father immediately asked if there was room in Jennie Murphree which was known on campus as the Screaming Tower of Virgins.  Thankfully it was full with a waiting list – no doubt for parents who wanted the illusion that their daughters would still be untouched after four years at a state college.

We started to bring my suitcases and boxes upstairs to the ninth floor.  The smell of slight mildew, sweat, stale beer, and hormones hung in the air as we waited for the elevator.  “Sugar Bear, you’re sure you’re ready for this?” my father said with an enormously concerned look on his face.  “Dad, I’ll be fine – besides the Wilsons are right next door and have been here a week already –they can give me the lay of the land.”  He relented I think still secretly hoping that I’d decide against staying so he could drive me back.  I was his oldest – his baby girl and the guilt of leaving my mother when I was six always weighed on him.  He would see me every weekend, at school functions and for holidays but he knew it wasn’t the same.  Then when he got remarried and had two more daughters – the tightrope of trying to be all things to all the females in the family got tighter.  God forbid we ever started having our menstrual cycles together. 

I had known the Wilson sisters since kindergarten when we met fighting off a racist ghost who was not keen on an integrated school being built in his land – a place that the local KKK had once used for rallies.  The Wilsons were the first black girls to attend the school which didn’t sit well with a few people both living and dead but we managed to form a strong bond as a result of that adversity.  Besides my father thought the world of them and it was the only way he’d let me go to FSU rather than the University of Georgia which was just 40 minutes away.  

So here we were – my dad and I put together the room – or my half of it which was a bed, a dresser, a small closet, a desk, and a mini-refrigerator.  The bathroom was a few doors down with shared toilets and showers.  It was still a week before school started but the bulk of the rush parties for sororities and fraternities had taken place.  Most of what was going on now was small get-togethers, the impromptu Tide slide (when the guys in a dorm wing get the floors all wet and soapy and then slide bare-assed down the hallway – it is way more stupid than it sounds if you can believe that) and ice water socials where potential sororities invited you to see them.  You had to wear white and drink ice water like a proper young lady – which definitely was not for me.

“Hey, Miss Sophia – how about I go back to my hotel and I pick you up for a late dinner at Chez Pierre?” my father asked like a was a real lady who deserved a fancy dinner.  I actually would have been happy with pizza and a can of Coke but it was my last night with my dad before the college part of my life started.  “Of course daddy – see you in an hour?” I asked and hoped I’d be able to find a decent dress and shoes among all the suitcases and boxes.  I got my shower caddy together with a towel, soap, shampoo, face cleanser, and moisturizer.  I walked out into the hallway which had young women and men coming and going.  It seemed strange that I could shower and just about anyone could walk in on me- but then this was what dorm life was all about.   

I started the steamy shower and made sure the curtain was closed on my first sultry summer night in North Florida, only to have a chill catch me by surprise.  Something seemed off as one of my floormates walked in with her roommate.  “I really don’t want Dexter over tonight – he’s weird.  I’d just like to hang out in the lower lounge, watch TV and eat pizza.”  “C’mon,” her roommate begged “He’s been really nice to me and I’d like to try that game he was talking about,” countered the other girl.  
“Okay, but by 11 he needs to be out – promise me Cynthia.”  “Fine Lynnette – but try to be nice to him.”  The two girls went into their respective stalls, took care of business and left.  I finished my shower, dried off and put on my robe making sure no one could see me as I ran across the hall to my own room.

I found a simple skirt and tunic top and some flats and finished putting on my make-up.  I went downstairs to wait for my dad who was let into the lobby by a couple of girls who gave him the once over and declared him "super cute" for an older guy as they grabbed a few more girls to go to a frat party.  We left arm in arm and frankly I didn't care if anyone thought I was nerdy for wanting to hang out with my dad.  

We got to Chez Pierre at 9:45 pm just in time for the last seating.  The Maitre D' recognized daddy and set us at a nice table by the window.

We both smiled as he handed us our menus - looking at each other across the table was really the first quiet non-road trip moment that we'd had with each other all day.   I had learned so much about my dad and had so much to say but found myself trying to keep it together so as not to ruin our last dinner before I was an official college student.  "Daddy - I - really --thank you for today - for telling me --" I started to say just as our overly chipper waiter came over.   "Hey folks - welcome to Chez Pierre - my name is Denny and I'll be your server this evening - may I interest you in a glass of wine, sir?"  The moment was broken and my dad went into his usual nice guy mode - ordering wine for him, a virgin Margarita for me and some escargot as an appetizer and chicken for dinner.  It seemed ironic that just four hours earlier we had been fighting ghostly Klansmen who were also abolitionists in Cordele, Georgia but here we were in Tallahassee having drinks and snails.  

"Sugar bear - let's not tell your mother about this afternoon- I'm pretty sure she'd freak out and be upset that I never really shared with her that I had - that I could see ghosts,"  he said quietly looking down.  I knew she blamed him and me for the end of their marriage - Daddy for bailing on her and me for seeing ghosts and spilling the secrets they told me at the family reunion.  

Denny returned with our drinks and appetizer and we talked about regular college stuff just like any other father and daughter would do.  I had always wanted these normal moments but they always seemed to allude me.   We finished dinner around 11:30 pm and Daddy dropped me off at the dorm.  "See you tomorrow for lunch before I leave, Sugar Bear," he said and gave me a huge hug as I got out of the car.   I smiled - still fighting my emotions but not letting on how lost I felt.

I walked past the student lounge that smelled of Budweizer, cigarettes and pizza.  There was an episode of Saturday Night Live playing in the background.  I walked up to my dorm room and saw that the Wilson girls has there door ajar next door. I knocked as Joy was getting a piece of pizza out of the delivery box.  "Sophia!!"  she squealed and we hugged each other.  "Sophia?" asked Grace as she came into the room holding her shower caddy.  I gave her a big hug and felt like I at least had a piece of home to keep from being too lonely.  They noticed my attire and asked if I had a hot date already.  "No, I went out to dinner with my Dad," I replied to which Grace commented - "Well it was a hot date - you're father is smoking!"  "Ewew - that's my dad but apparently he's been getting the once over from a few girls tonight."  I sat on Grace's bed as I grabbed a slice of pizza even after the big dinner I had just eaten.  Snails just didn't hit the spot like pizza did.  

"So how have things been so far?" I asked wiping tomato sauce from the side of my mouth.  "Actually, not quite as wild as I would have expected, but we've been staying away from the frat parties," explained Grace.   "Bullwinkle's Saloon is pretty cool - you can get cheap beer there and the dance floor is fun.  Best of all, you can walk to it easily from here.
We'll take you -" Joy continued but stopped mid-sentence when we heard a young woman scream.  "What the hell?" I said as I looked down the hall.  A gray haze was settling around a room two doors down.  The haze was not from cigarettes or pot, but was being given off by a less than friendly entity.  I saw some kids pile out of the room as the woman continued to scream.  

The Wilsons and I ran down to see what was going on.  As we looked in the room, there was a terrified girl sitting on the bed sobbing "A demon, a demon tried to get me!" she screamed.  Grace and Joy looked at me and I tried to focus in on what she was seeing. The dense haze was trying to cover up the entity but I saw that it was emanating from a Ouija board.  "Jesus Christ," I thought to myself, "I really hate when people use these things - nothing good ever comes of it."   

"Cynthia - for God's sake just calm down!" said a girl whose voice I recognized as Lynnette from earlier.  I remembered they were talking about a guy named was Dexter and he was pretty easy to pick out.  A guy who was looking nervous and smoking cigarettes rather than trying to reassure this poor young woman.  Grace leaned into me - "I know you wanted a fresh start but is there anything you can do?"  I looked closer at Cynthia and while her eyes looked wild and glassy - l realized that some of that might have been drug induced. 

"Has she taken anything tonight?" I asked trying not to accuse anyone of using drugs but they got my drift.  The collective unease of the room got stronger.  "Dexter gave her something - I don't know what it was," said Lynnette who was so upset she was shaking.   Cynthia lunged off the bed and grabbed me  "They are saying you can help - please help me," she sobbed and became limp.  "I'm calling Father Fetcher from the church down the road," said one of the girls who lived across  the hall.  "Yes, do that please," I said quickly. "Dexter what did you give her?" I commanded realizing I'd have to take matters into my own hands until someone with more experience arrived.  Dexter just looked down and didn't say anything as he took another drag off his Malboro.  "Dammit, answer me!"  "It was just one hit of acid - it shouldn't have done this," he replied nervously.  

Great - hits of acid while playing with a Ouija board - how f*cking stupid was that?  No wonder Lynnette was not crazy about him.   The entity started to move towards Cynthia.  "Get back!" I yelled at the apparition and the group moved out of the dorm room thinking I was talking to them.   "Claire would you go into my dorm room and get the rock salt that is in my big suitcase?" I said quietly to not to alert this thing as to my intentions. 

Claire left quickly so it was just me, Grace, Cynthia and Lynnette in the room.  Cynthia's body felt like it was burning up and she was sweating profusely.  "This is more than a bad acid trip," I thought to myself as the plastic pointer on the

Ouija board started to move in it's own.  Lynnette started to get hysterical and I could see that Grace was freaked but true to her name she told Lynnette that I was an expert on ghosts and had the situation handled.   "Who are you?" I asked trying to get a name so that it could be banished.  The plastic pointer spelled out the word "DIE".   The room got darker and colder and the entity was feeding off of Lynnette's fear.  "Okay, everyone out but me and Cynthia - please," I said not sure what I was going to do.  Just as they left, Claire showed up with the rock salt at the same time that Father Fetcher arrived.  He was a young priest - probably in his 30's with dark wavy hair and a slim build.  He had his priest collar on and a small suitcase which I hoped were his tools as a demonologist to help get rid of this aggressive entity.

"Hey there - I'm Father Fetcher - "  "Get out," said Cynthia in a very masculine voice "You and your ways are not welcome here."  Claire threw me the zip lock of rock salt and then left quickly.  Father Fetcher looked a little shaken.  "They were playing with a Ouija board and taking hits of acid," I explained hoping that might update them quickly.  "Were you playing the game as well?" he asked irritated and fumbling with his case.  "No, I'm was out with my dad but I'm a -I can see-" I hesitated and then Cynthia said, "They are saying Sophia can see spirits - please let her help me!" 

Cynthia passed out again but then quickly came to and had a strange look on her face.  The haze that was around the board had now moved over her.  The door slammed by itself which startled both me and Fr. Fetcher.  "They told us in seminary that this could get really bad - "  The soda cans on the table started to shake and fall on the floor.  "F*cking A - it's a dorm room with a f*cking Ouija board and people doing drugs.  Don't they know that entities like this are hanging all around us and this sh*t just invites the evil in!" stated the angry Padre.  I had to admit - I liked a priest who knew how to curse under pressure.

"Cynthia-I am Father Eugene Fetcher of St. Thomas More - I'm here to help you - try not to be afraid.  You're having a bad trip right now and seeing some very bad things - but the power of Christ can help you."   The bed started to shake and Cynthia started to whimper.   I could see the demon hovering - he had a red blood stained face that looked like a human skeleton with large teeth and black hair.  "Father, he's right over her.  I have some black rock salt - do you need me to use it?" I whispered but the demon looked my way and started to move it's mouth slowly.  "That sounds a little pagan to me but I've never done this before so I'm open to anything.  Does it work?" he whispered back.  "It banished some Klansmen ghosts earlier today with my dad," I replied matter of factly.  "Wow, so you have some experience - that's great.  Cool - cool.  Um, I'll pull out some oil and holy water with my bible and you -" He was cut off when his briefcase went flying and the items scattered to the ground.  "Shit!" we muttered at the same time.  

Cynthia's back started to arch and her mouth started to open - the entity was floating over her and the evil mist started to flow into her mouth.  "If we don't do something soon, she will be possessed," I said urging him to act quickly.   He crawled over to where the briefcase was and grabbed the vials of Holy water and oils.  Cynthia grabbed one of my hands and pulled me towards her - her face now a combination of bloody skeleton and her own flesh. I could not get her icy hand to let go and it looked like she was going to bite me with her teeth which were now fangs.  The room got colder and darker and I started to shiver. 

The heat of Cynthia's breath felt like it would scald my hand if it got any closer.  I reached into my pocket and ripped open the baggie of rock salt.  I threw it into the face of the demon/Cynthia.  She howled and let go my of hands to rub her eyes.   The room started to shake like we were in an earthquake and the Ouija board went flying.  Father Fetcher found the vials of holy water and oil which were broken - he cut his finger on the glass as he took the fluid off the floor and sprinkled them in her face as well.  He took a deep breath and spoke in an commanding voice: "Holy Michael, the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our safeguard against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray; and do you, O Prince of the heavenly host, by the power of God cast into hell Satan and all the evil spirits who wander through the world seeking the ruin of souls. Amen."  

I kept looking at the demon which was got smaller while the prayer was being said.  Suddenly, a big blue light with a sword appeared.  An abbess opened up in the floor and the blue light which now appeared to be an angel pointed his sword to the darkness.  The diminished demon struggled to stay in this world but the power of the sword was too strong and he let out an unholy moan as he was sucked into the unknown.  The floor quickly closed and the room shuttered.  The angel looked at me and Father Fetcher.  He nodded and then looked up to the sky as he disappeared leaving a trail of blue and white light.   

Cynthia's body started to relax and she came to.  Father Fetcher as was covered in sweat and his once white collar was gray.   "Did you see any of that?" I whispered still trying to comprehend it all.  "I caught a little blue light in the end but you'll have to tell me all about it," he said smiling.  The lights in the room got brighter and the room felt like a normal temperature again. "We make a pretty good team, are you Catholic?"  "No, Episcopal," I replied.  "Close enough," he retorted and we both started laughing.  "Sorry about the cursing - being a priest is still pretty new and I can have a bit of a mouth," he said holding the small cut on his finger.  "No worries, you're secret is safe with me," I replied.  

Lynnette, Claire and Grace came running in.  "Hey, are you all okay?" Claire asked.  "The floor was shaking."    Cynthia opened her eyes and they looked normal again.  "What happened?" she asked thankfully not remembering anything about the spiritual attack and noticing that there was a priest in her dorm room.  "Oh my God, did I sleep through Mass?"   "No, but I will be confiscating this Ouija board in the name of the church and burn the damn thing.   Hear me now all of you- I never want any of you to play this game again.  You have no idea what you are working with and bad sh-- I mean -- really bad things can happen," said Father Fetcher catching himself.  "Make sure you get plenty of sleep the next few days and eat healthy raw foods," the Padre advised as he put a band aid on his cut finger.  We cleaned up the room quickly and packed up the brief case just as Cynthia was falling back to sleep.  "Keep an eye on her for the next 24 hours just to make sure she's okay," I said as we left.  

Fr. Fetcher, Joy, Grace and I walked down the hallway as Chad the RA ran up.  "Hey, is everything okay up here?  We heard screams and like this side of the building was shaking."   
"We're fine," Father Fetcher replied. 

I noticed that Dexter was standing in the hallway, still smoking and not making eye contact with anyone.  "I am not going to turn you in this time, but if you even try to spell the word 'acid' I will see to it that the powers that be will make your life a living hell," I said directly and quietly.  Dexter looked at me and nodded.  He put out his cigarette and walked down the back stair well.  

"Do you have a place for me to burn this?" asked the priest who didn't want to have the Ouija board near him any longer than he had to.   "We have an incinerator in the basement - do you want to throw it in there?" Chad replied.  "That works," replied Fr. Fetcher.  

"Hey, would you like to have lunch with me, Joy, Grace and my dad tomorrow?  He'd be very interested to meet you," I asked hoping the good Father would say yes.  "Of course Miss Sophia, I'd love to talk to your dad and congratulate him on raising such a smart and capable daughter in so many ways," he smiled and then went off with Chad to burn that God forsaken game.

I got back to my room and the day mercifully came to an end. I was bone tired and exhausted and hoped the rest of the week would be quiet.  I also wondered how things would be since I was now "outed" as a medium at least for the girls on this floor.  But those thoughts quickly gave way to sleep which I was in dire need of. 

I woke up the next morning around 11:00 am - not in my bed at home like the day before but in my new home for the next four years.  The phone rang as I struggled to figure out where it was.   "Hey Sugar Bear, how was your first night in the dorm?" my dad asked.  "It was interesting - I met a priest and learned a new prayer," I replied sweetly not wanting to worry him.  "In fact he's coming to have lunch with us," I mentioned casually.  "A priest - will a Rabbi also be joining us?" my father joked.  I laughed and realized how much I would miss seeing him but we had bonded on this trip in a way I could not have expected.  "Hey daddy, I really love you - you know that right?" I said suddenly.  "Sugar bear, I love you too. So much.  I'll see you and the Wilson girls soon," he said with his voice breaking.  I hung up the phone realizing that although I was on my own for the first time I had friends and people who loved me so I would never be truly alone.  

Unawakenings

I woke up realizing that I could not wake up.  I was hovering over my body which was not moving – not breathing.  I tried everything to wake myself up.  I put my hands on my shoulders but they slipped right through.  I pulled frantically at the dark blue covers by nothing moved. I even tried screaming and there was no flinch – no indication of movement.  I started to panic – there had to be some sort of explanation – it had to be a dream. My heart should have been beating but I felt nothing.  I kept circling hoping my eyes would pop open and this nightmare would end.  I just kept looking at myself in bed –lifeless.

I looked over and saw Angela sitting in the corner.  “Claire, I’m so sorry“ she said with tears streaming down her face.  “But how am I seeing you?  You died a year ago,” I replied still trying to comprehend what was happening but it was slowly beginning to dawn on me.  “Claire, you died last night – a heart attack I suppose – I’m just so sorry – “ “Stop saying that – this is not happening – it’s a dream – it has to be – Jack is coming over-“  

Oh, shit – if I was dead who was going to look after my grandson?   His father was not in any shape to raise him.   Angela looked down – I knew what she was thinking – who would take care of our boy.   “I wanted to you live as long as possible and when they told me you would be dying – I begged them to let you live for my Jack’s sake.  I pleaded but they said it was your time.  Claire I didn’t want this – please believe me.” 

The room began to swirl around me.  This was not a dream.  This was my death – plain and simple –I was dead.   In some ways there should have been some relief in that – no more bills to pay, no more arguments with my son Tom over how he was raising Jack.   But there was no relief, no bright light to walk into to – just a corpse that looked like me in my bed getting colder by the minute.   I backed up into my closet door and slide down to the floor.  Angela sat down beside me.   “My back doesn’t hurt anymore,” I mumbled.   “No, those little aches and pains go away, but the emotions remain.” 

“So you’ve been around the whole time?  Why haven’t you tried to reach out to Jack?” I asked knowing how hard he’s been trying to reach the other side hoping to capture some semblance of Angela but instead got that Coal Miner ghost that scared the shit out of him.

“I just can’t – I left him and I tried to get back but the accident ended it.  I know that Tom has been trying to poison him against-“  “Don’t blame Tom for that!  You left him.  You had an affair.  You were unfaithful to my son – and you left your Jack behind for me to raise.  Don’t you try to put your guilt off on my son for God’s sake!”  I might have been dead but I could still feel anger and right now my daughter-in-law was pushing what little buttons I had left.   “He pushed me away Claire.  He never got help after Vietnam. We both begged him to – I just couldn’t live a lie –“ Angela put her head down and started to sob.  I didn’t have time for this – or worse I was realizing – I had an eternity of this. 

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.  “Nana, are you there?”  It was Jack’s voice.   “Sweet Jesus- I don’t want him to be the one who finds me, please do something,” I asked to the powers that be – but instead I got silence.   Angela looked at me, my corpse and the door where Jack was knocking.  She walked through and saw that Tom was waiting in the car.  “Tom is here with him – he can find you,” Angela said matter of factly.  Her casualness took me aback. “So you’re having Tom find me – my son – my baby?”  “Do you want the last image that Jack’s sees is you dead in bed.  At least Tom has seen dead people in Vietnam.”  I heard Tom coming to the door – “Mom, open up – it’s us-“  I looked at my lifeless body hoping I would suddenly come around but I could tell by my color – I was long gone.  “Her car is still here Dad- she’s got to be inside – “ said Jack sounding a little panicked.  “Okay, I’ll use the key but stay here – alright?”  Tom sounded worried but calm – and I prayed that he would know what to do. 

The click in the lock got the dead bolt to turn.  If my heart had still been beating it would have been going a mile a minute and pushed right through my throat.  He walked in carefully.  “Mom – are you here – it’s me Tom.”  He looked in the kitchen and the living room and hesitated as he walked into the bedroom.  The door knob turned slowly and he walked in.  “Mom, it’s time to get up- Jack’s –“ he stopped mid-sentence.   He walked over to my body and bent over to see if I was breathing.   He fell to his knees – trying to catch his breath.  “Mom-I’m sorry – why – sweet suffering Jesus – why?”  Jack called from the door – “Is everything okay – where’s Nana?”  “Jack – don’t come in here – stay by the car –“  “Is Nana – sick?”  he asked afraid of the answer.  “Just stay by the car  – stay by the car –“  Tom picked up the phone and dialed 911.  “Hello- I need to report – a death- my mother – she’s not breathing – she’s – oh my God – she’s –“   Tom broke down as the operator tried to get more information.   I stood there – wishing I could hold him. I wished when I was alive that I should have held him more.  I should have told him I was proud of him even with all the drinking and outbursts – he had a good heart and it was breaking once again.  He put down the phone and sobbed.  He tried to hold my hand – but it was cold and stiff now.  He dropped it which made him cry more.  

Angela went over to him and put her hand on his shoulder which seemed to calm him down.  She looked over to me and encouraged me to come over.   My hand hovered lightly over my son’s back -the one I used to pat when he was a teenager who wrote poetry and had the whole world in front of him – before that God damned war had ripped his heart out.   I put my hand on his shoulder and it felt warm. Right now, his shoulders were holding the weight of world which I could no longer try to carry for him.   He’d be on his own now – just him and Jack. 

He walked outside and from the window I could see him telling Jack – who just shook his head – not believing it and wanting to go inside to see for himself.   Tom was holding him back when the ambulance and the police arrived.  From there was a blur – the paramedics checking my vitals and finding nothing – the police questioning Tom and Jack and the two of them seeing my body in a sheet carried out of the house while a group of the neighbors looked on and were trying to console the both of them.   “So sorry Tom, she was a great lady – so kind – it’s just so sudden –“ said my neighbor Arthur who always said good morning when I got the paper.  He also had no problem borrowing my hedge clippers which he still had – at this point it didn’t matter – none of that petty shit mattered anymore.

The next few days were a whirlwind.  Jack and Tom making arrangements – trying to hold it together.  Well-meaning neighbors and church folks who were bringing muffins, casseroles and desserts galore – hoping that food would stem the grief.  When the house got quiet – it was just Jack and Tom and the silence was deafening.  I was not there to provide any sort of buffer – if they did talk it became an argument because Jack felt he knew me better than Tom.  Tom would respond that Jack didn’t know shit about me - that there were things we shared as mother and son he could never understand.  This cut Jack like a knife since Angela had died so suddenly.  And so it went – each one playing the game of who loved me more – a game that was unwinnable.

What surprised me the most was that Angela was actually helpful – trying to calm things down in her other-worldly way.  She would intercede when Tom looked like he wanted to smack their son by knocking things over as a reminder that she was still present and those signs he responded to.   My heart went out to Jack who just looked lost – he looked older than 15 and yet like a baby at the same time.  He needed a shoulder to cry on and his father was just not it.  Add to that the hormones that a 15 year old boy has raging through his veins and this transition was not going to be an easy one. 

The day of my funeral it was pretty sunny and Father Scott did a beautiful

service.  Tom managed to stay sober and actually put his arm around Jack during the eulogies that people were kind enough to do for me.  Then Tom stood up and walked to the pulpit.  This sent a few whispers through the sanctuary since Tom has not been in church since Jack’s baptism.  He had given up on God after the horrors he had seen in Vietnam.   But right now he didn’t feel like a stranger in a house of God – he seemed at home.  He strode confidently to the alter and stood there with a poem he had written for me when he was 15 for Mother’s Day.  He began – “When heaven needed a heart that could embrace the world- yours opened like a river that could not be dammed.  Where others would hold reservoirs of anger and spite – your tide of love would pull down those walls and bring a lightness that could not be denied –“ he kept his eyes on the paper and his voice was strong – never wavering.   Jack sat there transfixed wondering where this side of his father had come from - he smiled for the first time in a week.  Tom ended with “Mothers are the spring of life that keep us from drying up when emotions fail – they cover us with warmth and try to shield us from the rain but it’s the rain that makes things grow.  When a tear falls from a mother’s heart – it has more power than a hurricane to transform us – because although we cannot see it at the time – it makes us stronger in the face of adversity.”   Tom said nothing more as he left the pulpit to a chorus is sniffles in the pews.   Angela appeared next to me – “I hope he starts writing again – it would really help him.”  I nodded- but I was too stunned as everyone else was to say anything more.  

Tom sat down next to his son with his head bowed – trying not to look at Jack because he had taken a chance and revealed so much.  Jack leaned in, “That was awesome Dad!” and then touched his father’s hand.   Tom shook his head to say “Thank you.”   It was then that father and son actually started to form an understanding – one that was short on words but long on meaning. 

The burial at the cemetery was pretty standard but Tom seemed to be at peace that he had been able to see me off in style.  Thankfully – I had paid for my funeral arrangements years ago – so I could be next to my husband.  I just never thought that it would be used before I was even out of my 70’s.   

Jack sat with his dad in a daze.  The commotion of the last few days had distracted him from the uncertainty of his new life – having to deal without me in his life.  He watched as my casket was lowered into the cold ground – the same one that had swallowed up his mother.   “This is so fucking unfair-“ he said under his breath.   Tom just nodded – it was his sentiment exactly.   They each took a rose and threw onto the grave before the men started to cover it with dirt.  My head was still reeling – it was all so surreal.  The tombstone was nearby –the one I purchased when my husband died only now instead of my birthday and a dash – it had the day I died.  There it was – a bunch of numbers that made my demise official. 

Tom decided to have the reception at my house which was nicer than the one he and Jack lived in.  The refrigerator was also bigger to hold all the casseroles that my church group brought over.  The community really embraced my son and grandson and for that I was grateful.  A flurry of people went through my house that day – more than at any point while I was alive.   When the last church lady left the last tuna noodle casserole – my house was finally quiet.   Jack and Tom sat on my couch with the crocheted blanket that Angela had made me one year for Christmas.   The silence seemed so unnatural – I usually had the TV or radio going because I hated being by myself.  Now there was only the ticking sound of my grandfather clock in the hallway that filled the house.   Jack and Tom wanted to go but couldn’t bring themselves to do it – for some reason they both knew it would mean it was really over – I was gone and never coming back – at least not as they knew me when I was alive.

I went over the Jack and tried to comfort him – to put my arm around him but it kept falling through.  Angela appeared and showed me how to drape my arm around him by hovering but not resting on him.  My little ghost hunter seemed oblivious to me – so filled with his own sadness to consider that I might just be this close.  Angela sat next to Tom who was wiping his eyes and looking down – trying to keep it together for Jack’s sake.   Both my boys looked so vulnerable – I just wanted to take their pain away but knew I couldn’t – not unless I rose from the dead and that seemed highly unlikely.  I’ve been a Christian woman all my life and knew that in the history of the world it had only happened once – however it was still only the third day since I passed so maybe it was possible.  

Angela could read my mind and started to giggle.  “Good God Claire –are you suggesting that you can take the Messiah route?  Trust me, the powers that be look down on that line of thinking.”  I winced at my hubris and hoped that it had not cost me.  I was dead, the funeral was over – the boys seemed like they were on the way to healing.  My mission was over.  Where the hell was the white light to take me to heaven? “I was wondering that too,” Angela replied.  “I figured since I was an adulterer – with that sin still on my head when I died that’s why I was not allowed to ascend – but it’s something more than that.  I’m still trying to figure it out.  In the meantime – we can still be here for Jack and Tom.  It’s funny, I find that I love him more now that I’m dead then I ever could when I was alive.”   That remark genuinely pissed me off.  “You’d still be alive if you had loved him more – at least with my death – I could have left in peace knowing that you would be alive to look after them but no – you had to go off with your lover on that snowy night and then tried to come back to get Jack but God was not going to let that happen.  You died in that car accident leaving me to pick up the pieces of your mistake!”  Every bit of contempt I had for her was spewing out.    

Angela’s face when from hurt to hard.  Her eyes turned to steel and she addressed me in a way she never had before.  “How dare you use God to judge me when I know for a fact that you were not exactly faithful in your marriage either.”   She knew that she had struck a blow.  She just looked at me with the same contempt I had for her.  “How did you –“ I stammered realizing that even though I had confessed my sin and thought I was absolved – apparently it was not enough.   “Tom told me he thought that you had an affair when he was a teenager.  Then your husband came to me after I died to ask me to look after you.  He had been around you all this time but it was time for him to move onto his next life.  He wished he had treated you better.  You could have understood Claire – you could have reached out but instead I got nothing but judgement – your fucking judgement – even before my affair.  I was never good enough for your son until I died and then it was safe to be nice – because in the eyes of the community and your grandson – it was the right thing to do.  But make no mistake – heaven can see that you are a fucking hypocrite!”  Angela picked up one of my Precious Moments angel figurines from the side table and threw it at me.  It went through me and crashed to the floor.  Tom and Jack were jostled from their grief enough to look up.

“What the hell?” Tom said as he looked in disbelief as the shattered porcelain figurine.  “How did that get all the way over there?” asked Jack not fathoming that his mother and grandmother were having an epic fight.  “You common little gutter snipe!   You’re right – you were never good enough for my boy.  As for my husband – I had my reasons – reasons that don’t concern you –“ I replied getting ready to hurl something myself.  “Don’t concern me?! – unfucking believable!  Your husband was also suffering from Post -Traumatic Stress Disorder  from the Korean War– but they didn’t call it that then– it was shell shocked and they didn’t have therapy for it then.  You tried to get him help but nothing worked – just like with Tom. We both needed more but – Jesus Claire – you could have tried to understand or maybe you did and you turned your back on me anyway.”  I found an old ceramic cup - a piece of crap that Angela had made me for my birthday when she was still into pottery and threw it back.  It hit the side of the shelf and broke in two – not nearly as dramatic as I had hoped but now Jack and Tom could see it fly through the air and crash.

“Dad- what’s going on?  Is it – “ Jack stopped short realizing his ghost hunting which was more of a hobby was about to get real.   “Shit son- we need to get under something-“ Tom ordered like an soldier that knew he was under attack – he’d been through this with Angela once before.  He grabbed Jack’s hand and they ran to the kitchen and got under the table. 

“Is that the best you can do old woman?” Angela laughed.  She picked up a ballerina figurine and threw it against the wall – “Too bad you were never good at sports-“ I picked up her crocheted blanket and started to rip it.  Angela retaliated with smashing two more of my Precious Moments angels. “I always detested these things and you were actually stupid enough to think they were art!”

“Dad, I’m scared –“ we both heard Jack from the kitchen.  “Great – now you’ve managed to terrify Jack – the one totally innocent person on this whole thing,” I said running into the kitchen.  “You are not going to comfort him without me,” Angela replied.  I saw Jack and Tom under my dinette.  Jack was trembling and Tom was holding him tight.  “It’s going to be okay son – it’s going to stop soon.”  “It’s only going to stop when you get the fuck out of here Claire –“ Angela opened up the cabinet and started to break my Corning Ware. 

I tried to keep her from my good china which I wanted Jack’s wife to have one day.  The dishes kept breaking around them until a shard of glass hit Jack in his arm and it started to bleed.  “That is enough Angela – stop it now!” Tom bellowed as he stood up ready to take her on.  Angela stopped just as she had my favorite salad bowl in her hands.  She saw Jack bleeding and realized she was the cause.  “Oh my God, Jack – I’m so sorry,” she sat down next to him – holding his arm trying to stem the flow.  Tom got a rag from under the sink and wrapped it around Jack’s arm which stopped the bleeding.  “There you go soldier,” he said trying to ease the tension of the moment.  I wondered if he thought I was around as well.  “Dad, was that Mom and Nana – are they ghosts? Why aren’t they in heaven?”  The idea of my grandson thinking I was not going to heaven took me aback.   

Tom looked around the kitchen and surveyed the damage.  He had been through this with Angela after her funeral when he was drunk.  But this time he was stone sober and his son- an innocent victim had gotten hurt.  “Angela – look I know since I came back from the war – I was not the man you married.  I’m sorry for that – I was just so pissed that in my life I had seen so much death in Vietnam – friends blown away before my eyes.  I never talked about it because a real man just takes it all in and doesn’t say anything.  But that’s bullshit.  I let it destroy our marriage, my relationship with you – with Jack. For that I’m sorry.  I don’t like what you did at the end – leaving me but now I can understand it.  I have to move on Angela.  I was sitting in church today at my mother’s funeral.  Shit – life is too fucking short.  I can’t keep all this anger inside and still function. It’s eating me alive. I forgive you Angie and Mom – you have to forgive her too.”  I looked at Angela and she looked at me.  I realized in death we were supposed to be better than this – we needed ascend beyond our petty mortal coils.   I walked over to Angela – my footsteps crackling over my broken stoneware.   “I’m sorry Angela – I should never have judged you.  Please forgive me.”  Angela took my hand – “I’m sorry too Claire – please forgive me – I know our relationship has not been easy.  I know how much you love them.  I’m just so tired – so very tired.”

A warmness started to fill the kitchen.  The overhead light started to expand and stars entered the kitchen.  I looked over at Angela who was covered in the light.  “That was it Claire – its forgiveness.”  I looked at Angela and for the first time since I had known her – she looked calm and at peace.   White orbs surrounded her.  She started to talk to someone I couldn’t see.  “It’s beautiful Claire – so peaceful.  I need sometime – I’m not sure when I’ll be back - take care of them.”  The ray started to pull her up and she was gone.  

I stood there waiting for my white light but something was holding me back.  I had never forgiven myself for cheating on my husband – he may have forgiven me, the church might have absolved me but still I didn’t feel worthy and that was keeping me back.  “Mom, I know what happened when I was a teenager and Dad did too – it’s in the past.  I love you Mom but you need to move on too –“ Tom said with his voice cracking.   A warmth started to pushed through my chest – like 100 pound weight that had been crushing me for years was finally being lifted.  The white shaft of light started to cover me as well – and this time both Jack and Tom got to see something was changing.  “Dad, look – the room is full of light.”  I felt myself getting lighter.  A voice asked me a crucial question – would I be willing to come back from time to time to keep an eye on things – as a free spirit.  “Yes – please!” I replied eagerly.  I understood Angela’s need to stay away and recharge but the idea that I would be able to go back and forth helped me to be able to finally move on.  Jack put his hand out and I touched it briefly before I ascended to the light completely.   My parents had been waiting a long time to see me – it was good to be with them again.

A week later, Tom was going through the house to get it ready to sell.   I had willed it to him and now he and Jack would have some money to keep their heads above water for a while.  He kept some of my furniture and keepsakes before sending the rest to Goodwill.  Jack got home from school and found Pup-Pup back on his bed.  Tom had thrown him out in a drunken stupor to get his son to grow up.  I saved the little dog from the trash, washed him and kept him at my house in the guest room.  Jack and I usually kept it hidden when Tom was at my house – it was our little secret.  “Pup-Pup – what?!” Jack said as he patted his little stuffed friend.   Tom looked on without saying a word.   Jack had lost so much in such a short period of time – maybe growing up was over-rated.   Tom walked into the kitchen to start dinner with my remaining Corning Ware.  There was a precious Moments angel on the table.  “Hey Mom,” he said with a smile.