The Rock Salt Circle

I woke up for the last time in my room on Lake Lanier to the smell of strawberry waffles and fresh brewed coffee.  “Hey there sweetie – time to get up,” my Granddaddy said as the sun rose over the blue water.  He looked tired which for a ghost was saying a lot.  I knew I would miss him terribly when I went to college even though I had never met him when he was alive.  He came into my world about the time my kitten Sassy was hit by a car when I was six and I prayed to see her one more time.  My prayers were answered when I was able to see the spirit of my sweet kitty along with a whole host of ghosts who decided that they needed the help of a six year old to get closure on their unfinished business.  All of it was over whelming until Granddaddy stepped in from beyond and started to take control of the situation so that his great-granddaughter would not be too traumatized by the fact she could see a wide array of dead people.  

“Okay, I’m up.  But I still don’t understand why you can’t come with me Granddad,” I said not knowing how I would negotiate a whole new world of ghosts without him.   “Now, girlie-girl –we talked about this - I’m bound to this place – the city itself – I can't leave and besides someone needs to keep an eye on your mother,” he said with a smile and a wink.  I smiled back but we both knew it would be a while before I came back home for a visit after the disaster of my Cotillion.  My date - who was the son of one of the richest doctors in town- turned out to be a serial rapist.  I managed to get away before it was too late but two of my classmates – Betty and Sherry – were not so lucky.  My last week at home was a flurry of interviews with police officers who were trying to build a case against Tad Palmer.  At this point I just wanted to get out of town and start my new life in Tallahassee at Florida State.

Granddaddy  sat on-top of my suitcases and looked down.  I sensed that he was going to miss me as much as I was going to miss him.  "I love you Granddaddy," I said as I sat next to him.   "You're the purest soul I've ever met - don't let the bastards get you down.  You got a gift - don't be afraid to use it."   I smiled and leaned in forgetting he was not solid.  I fell off the suitcases which made Granddaddy laugh.  "Girly girl - you do that every time and it makes me smile.  And...I love you too!"  he smiled and faded out.

I threw on my favorite jeans and Bruce Springsteen t-shirt and headed down the stairs.  Etta was standing at the stove making my favorite breakfast.  “Hey Etta,” I said quietly.  This woman had been my rock and I was closer to her by far than my own mother.  She never treated me like a freak because I could see ghosts – she always loved me for who I was.  “Hey there – I made your favorite breakfast for my favorite girl –“ her voice broke off.  We both looked at each other and our eyes started to well up.  I always felt safe in her arms from the time I was a toddler.  I thought she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen – her dark eyes and skin seemed so exotic to me.  She had also guided me through the thorny path of being able to see the dead.  Having grown up in New Orleans she had special understanding of the occult and for her my abilities were not freakish. She never made me feel weird or tried to dismiss what I saw as a child's flight of fancy.  She never wavered – she just loved me.  She smoothed down my hair and served up her classic strawberry waffles and maple bacon.  “I’m going to miss this Etta – you and me having breakfast together – “ “Now Baby Girl – don’t get me started – your father will be here any minute and you know how he hates emotional goodbyes.”

Mother came downstairs with her platinum blond hair coiffed, a cream colored pair of slacks and a matching apricot sweater set -no matter what that woman always had time to coordinate.   “Well Sophia - I can’t believe today is the day.  Are you sure you want to go to now and not wait until January – especially after everything that’s happened?”  she asked showing some genuine concern and residual guilt for setting me up with Tad.  She sat down with us and had coffee which was her habit.  She didn’t really eat breakfast - coffee and a cigarette which she sneaked when no one was around - was her morning ritual.   

The three of us sat there awkwardly - my birth mother and my emotional mother trying to find the right words.  It's interesting when you know one phase of your life is ending and another beginning so you can prepare -  it happens with things like marriages, births, new jobs and going to college.  But so much of life's changes are unexpected - like learning that you can see ghosts or that your date might just take something from you that is precious with terrible force.  

Most times the unexpected is death - and those spirits that can't accept it usually come to someone like me for help.  I try to keep that in mind when I'm bombarded by them but I've come to realize too many people are just not ready to let go - no matter how old they are.   There are any number of grandmothers that come to tell me that they still keep tabs on their children and grandchildren.  Children that still hang around their parents trying to offer comfort.  All needing my help and hoping I might be able to offer a message or two to  those they loved so they can find some peace.   It's a blessing and a curse as Etta put it - so few who had the gift and actually did the right thing by it.  I was apparently one of the few. 

I could discuss these things with Etta.  My mother was just too uncomfortable with it and had always wished I was still her obedient little girl with blond hair and blue eyes who would do exactly as she said before I changed - before Sassy died.  My ability was definitely not one she was prepared for and I think she mourns for the child that I was and the marriage she thinks she lost because of it.  

My father entered with his usual cheer - putting on a happy face even though he had spent the last week berating my mother for the whole Cotillion disaster.  He blamed her for trying to make me a debutante and feeling like my station in life was supposed to be dictated by the man I was destined to marry.  But in the last day or two, he became less frustrated with Mom realizing that it was not helping the situation and was only making me more anxious. 

"Hello ladies!  How's my college girl?"  "I'm good daddy - we can go anytime," I said ready to get the hell out of dodge but still not quite sure I was ready to leave everything I had ever known - both good and bad.  "Do I have some time for coffee and some of Etta's famous waffles?" he asked.  "Of course Daddy - I'll bring my bags downstairs."  "Hold your horses - Sugar Bear - let me have some breakfast and then we'll get going."  My dad sat down and ate breakfast with his girls and made jokes which made us laugh. I wished it could have always been like this.   He and my mother had been at each other's throats but now that I was leaving there seemed to be a relative calm over the house.  

"Sophia, your mother and I have a surprise for you," Daddy said with a huge smile that my mother also mirrored.  "You need a way to get around campus so here you are."  In the drive way was a red 1980 Toyota  Celica it was the cutest car I had ever seen.  "We'll drive down in this and then I'll fly back on Sunday."  I stood in awe that they were able to keep it a secret and I hugged both of them.  "Thank you - oh my God - I can't believe I have my own wheels!"  
  

Daddy and I loaded up my stuff and I was glad that I had mostly suitcases that fit in the trunk along with Dad's one overnight bag.   I gave Etta a big hug goodbye and another one to my mother who to my surprise I was actually going to miss.  Daddy handed me the keys but I let him drive since he made me nervous whenever I got behind the wheel.  I looked out the window as we pulled out of the driveway so my dad could not see how hard I was crying.   He touched my hand and said, "It's okay Sugar bear, I understand - change is a very hard thing - it's a good thing sometimes but it's also tough to do."  I nodded and sat back.  

Leaving the house I had grown up in, I realized that Daddy and Mother had been divorced longer now than they had been married.  He left the day after the family reunion that my mother orchestrated to show what a big happy family we were.  He had planned it long before I started to see ghosts but in my mother's mind - that was his tipping point.  He'd get me every weekend and we'd spend it together until Cynthia came into his life and then it was every other weekend.   She tried to act like my mother -but I was so angry at the fact that he wanted to spend more time with her than me that we were never very close.  Eventually they got married and she had two daughters - my half sisters Patricia and Abby.  I was 10 when Patricia was born and 12 when Abby arrived.  I had tried to get along with them but the age difference was an issue as well as the fact in my mind that they had stolen my daddy.  I was 18 now and they were eight and six and most of the time felt like their sitter rather than their sister. 

As we were driving I realized that this trip would be most uninterrupted time in years that I had with my father.  Between his marriage, my two half sisters and his law practice - we had very little one-on-one time since I was about six years old.  He felt guilty about the Cotillion and how he was unable to protect me.  It was not his fault - not really my mother's fault either - it was really a world that valued money, power and social position which gave some people in that strata the idea that they could perpetrate any crime and there would be no repercussions.  While my parents had serious qualms about me attending college on my own - I guess they figured if I could handle being assaulted and fighting back and all the ghosts that had come at me over the last 12 years - I could probably handle frat boys.  At least now, I knew what to look for in the asshole department and avoid it.  Frankly, unlike a lot of girls my age - I was not looking for a boyfriend my first week in college. 

As we pulled away from Atlanta on I-75, the reality of starting fresh in Tallahassee hit me full on.  It was fun and scary at the same time.  We made our way down Georgia to Macon and I got some strong impressions but was not sure if it was my own nerves or actually something supernatural going on.  I-75 looked basically the same for hours - the only thing that broke things up were billboards advertising trucker strip joints and gas stations that sold boiled peanuts.  

As we drove into exit 33 and the city of Cordele - I caught sight of a rocket that seemed to be very out of place and asked Daddy if he knew what it was.  "Sugar bear - that is a genuine Confederate nuclear missile," he said matter-of-factley.  "It's a what?" I asked.  "Here let's pull off and I'll show you."  Sure enough as we drove in - there was a plaque near the 11 story missile that explained that it had flown into space in the 1960's.  "That's cool dad," said wishing we had more time to explore the weird side of Georgia.  Just then - I got a very uncomfortable feeling.   There was something weird nearby but I could not get a good fix on it.  My father noticed my face and got the drift that something was askew.  He quickly paid for the Icees from the gas station next to the missile and we were soon back on our way.  

"Hey why don't we get off I-75 and hit some back roads just to break things up?" he asked.  "That sounds great Daddy,"   I said but I felt light headed and closed my eyes hoping a little sleep might clear my head.  We went on Route 300 and the feelings only got more intense.  I kept on seeing flashes of Klansman along the side of the road and other people running away from them - some white and some black.  I could also smell whiskey and gun powder.  My father got quiet and serious as well.  "Daddy - did you see something?" I asked wondering if he could feel it too.  "No Sugar Bear, it's just getting later than I'd like - I wanted you to be there before dark," he said trying reassure me.  

The images kept appearing and disappearing.  Seeing the KKK didn't surprise me - we were in Georgia after all but the people looked like they were from the 1920's - not from the Civil War.  The people dressed as the Klan seemed to be trying to capture the white people with the same vigor as they had for people with darker skin.  Just when I wondered if it was my overactive imagination - we drove by a farm with a confederate flag flying high over the crops. 

"Sweet suffering Jesus - some people  just cannot give up the fight," my father said with a huge dose of disdain.  I was feeling a real heaviness on my chest and my head hurt.  I also had to go to the bathroom but didn't want to stop around here but my bladder had a different idea - damn that extra large Icee.   "Daddy, can we stop?  I really have to use the ladies room."   We drove past some interesting sites like the Salt Lick Sausage Factory and the future location of the Grits Festival trying to find a road side stop.  We finally found one - a small filling station next to a country store that seemed quaint.  My head was still feeling strange but I attributed that to the fact that I was going to burst if I didn't get to a john ASAP.  I ran into the store and sighed with relief when I saw the word restroom on the back.  My dad got some coffee and talked to the sales clerk who was a heavy set woman in her 40's and a teased up-do with bright red lipstick. 

As I entered the bathroom which had a few stalls, I felt something in there that was not friendly.  "Hey, I just need to go to the bathroom and I'll leave you be - I really don't want any trouble," I said to the entity that seemed to be spoiling for a fight.  I used the toilet and started to wash my hands when something literally shoved me against the stall door.  "Hey, that's enough - I mean you no harm now let me go in peace," I said more sternly just like Granddaddy had taught me.  Just than I heard the phrase "Too late, N-gger lover" as I got thrown out of the bathroom.  

I tried to keep my composure as the clerk named Aggie and Daddy watched me nearly trip over a display by the bathroom.  "Be careful Sugar Bear -" he said not realizing I was being harangued by something on the other side.   Daddy handed me his coffee cup and I took a sip which helped steady me.  "What is the history here Aggie?" I asked casually but I had a pretty good idea of what it was.  

Aggie looked  uncertain at telling a pair of outsiders what the place had once been.  "Oh, you know, farms around these parts - God fearing people mostly.  We're actually gearing up for the Grits Festival -" she replied when all of the sudden the cigarette display behind her fell forward.   "What the hell?" she asked as she leaned over to pick up a pack of Lucky Strikes when the beef jerky in an nearby isle was also knocked over.  "Daddy, we need to go now - I get the feeling the spirits don't like us here," I whispered. 

But my warning came too late.  There was a circle of ghostly Klansman surrounding the outside of the store.  It didn't matter that it was barely dusk- they were out for blood and whelded axes and torches.  My father looked outside and jumped back.   "Daddy, do you see that?" I asked quietly.  "Sugar bear we best not go outside," he whispered back.  The clerk got under the counter trying to pick up cigarettes.  I saw the apparitions of men in white sheets rush the front of the store. The doors to the beer display were thrown open while bottles of Bud and Heineken exploded causing glass and ale to flood the place.  The bottles of carefully arranged Boones Farm Strawberry Wine also started to implode. We jumped behind the counter with the Aggie.  "Hey- has this happened before?" I asked as more glass and alcohol smashed around us.  "This here county was dry up until about six months ago and we just started selling beer and wine last night," she replied.  "Was the Klan active around here with prohibition?" I asked trying to keep my voice down.  Aggie looked down realizing keeping the family secret was not worth it anymore.  "Yes, outside of Atlanta, this was one of the most active Klan Orders in Georgia.  They went from lynching coloreds to killing bootleggers in the 1920's.  My great grandfather was the Grand-Dragon and this was their headquarters.  Our store was failing so once we were not a dry county anymore we decided to sell alcohol."   

The smell of the beer and wine was getting to me and I felt sick.  We crawled to the storage room and tried to get out through the back door only to see a still in the supply area blocking the exit.  "Holy shit," my father whispered, "you  have a still?  Do you know how flammable that stuff is?"  "It's a sideline we were hoping to launch when we got a full liquor license," Aggie replied still not sensing how much danger we were in even with all the glass breaking in the store.  We saw the back door open and another ghostly figure in a red Klan outfit walk through the door.  Aggie could not see him but Daddy and I could.  "Ladies get behind me," he said as he grabbed two broom sticks and twisted the ends off of them.  He then broke one in half.   He grabbed a box of rock salt that was near an ice cream maker and threw a handful in the face of the ghost as we ran out the door.  The ghost stopped and covered his face.  Daddy found a hammer, nails and a gas can near a lawn mower outside.  He hammered the two sticks together to make a cross and then poured gas over it. 

"What the hell are you doing?  You can't do that here -" said Aggie afraid of stirring up images of the past that her family had tried to erase.  "Look, that glass breaking is a bunch of pissed off Klan ghosts who think your defaming their land by selling booze," I replied understanding where my dad was going with this.  "We need to lure them away from the store or they will completely destroy it," my dad stated.  It dawned on me that he knew more about ghosts than he had ever let on.  

We ran to the home behind the store with a small pond and a large backyard.  I looked and saw the Grand Dragon close behind.   "Do you know where some matches are?" I asked.  Aggie looked in the BBQ but there were none to be found.  "We need to light this or your store is gone."  We searched frantically and heard the rhythmic footsteps coming closer.  He spied some copper wire and iron nails on the porch that looked like they were part of some art project on black velvet.      

''Daddy plunged the cross in a couple of bags of soil and started to put a big copper ring around the bottom of the cross with the nails and wire.   "Dammit - I need matches or a lighter - anything!" he exclaimed as we started to see the branches of the hedge nearby move.  I noticed a blow torch under a tarp.  "Hey will this do?" I asked.   "Yeah, but we need a spark," Dad replied as the plants around us started to move on their own and the Grand Dragon was in full visage - even Aggie could see him and screamed.  I looked near where I had found the blow torch and spied a flint.  I handed it to my father and he lit the cross. 

It was just getting to be dusk and the cross was visible over the pond.  We could hear the ghost scream "No one burns a cross on my lawn, that's for n-ggers!"  The Grand Dragon rushed to the flames as Daddy closed the copper ring making it impossible for him to escape.   "Sophia, put a circle of rock salt around you and Aggie - then throw me the box!"  I did just as he said and kept Aggie close to me.  Daddy grabbed some ash from the BBQ and mixed it with the salt and started to say the 91st Psalm.  The other ghostly Klansmen started to come through the yard - with blood on their hands and blood dripping from their masks.  Aggie shreiked - they came near us but could not touch us because we were in the rock salt circle.   

They turned to Daddy who kept in reciting the 91st Psalm - “Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.   I will say of the Lord, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress - my God, in whom I trust’…” The Klansmen looked confused as their leader was powerless and writhing in pain.  “Because he loves me says the Lord, I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name. He will call on me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him. With long life I will satisfy him and show him my salvation," my father recited confidently never breaking eye contact with the evil wizard trapped in copper wire.  Just as he got the the last line -  "I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him. With long life I will satisfy him and show him my salvation," he threw the ash and rock salt in Grand Dragon's face.  The flames then engulfed his red robes and you could here his moans  which were magnified over the pond.  He had tried to say on this earthly plane for as long as possible but now the gates of hell were pulling him in and he was no longer in control.  The rest of the Klansmen stopped in their tracks and let out a ghostly howl as the pond opened up like a fiery pit and sucked them into an unholy abyss.       

A quick hot breeze brushed by us and then everything went

silent.   I looked over at Aggie - who had her hands over her ears and her eyes closed.  "It's okay Aggie - they're gone," my father said quietly.  Aggie opened her eyes and the pond was quiet with barely a ripple.  The only thing that looked fiery was the sun as it was setting behind the magnolia trees. 

"Let's get a broom and clean up the store but if you know a priest or a minister - I'd have him do a blessing before you open back up," Daddy said wisely.  I didn't say anything because it all seemed so surreal not just the run-in with the ghosts of the Klan but my father being able to banish them.     

We helped Aggie throw away all the broken glass and mop up the floor which smelled of sweet wine and old beer.  They had destroyed about half the alcohol stock but at least the store was still standing.  Aggie thanked us but I was pretty sure that she was in shock.  I gave her the Angel of God prayer to calm her down and my father suggested that she do the 91st Psalm every day before she went to bed and to put rock salt around the property as well as the windows to keep bad spirits out.   He grabbed an extra box and had me put in my suitcase just in case we saw anymore unfriendlies on the road.

As we got in the car, I looked at my father-completely amazed at what he'd done.  "Daddy, how did you - I mean you never - you could see all that?" I asked still wrapping my head around it.  "I mean all this time - you never let on - you never tried to tell me - " I said trying not to get angry - but hell this was a pretty big secret to keep considering I had been seeing ghosts for the last 12 years of my life. 

"Sugar Bear, I didn't know how to tell you and frankly you can see and talk to them way better than me.  But these entities, they were so strong and evil I could see them easily and frankly they were only going to be banished by someone who seemed like an Alpha male," he said with a huge degree of authority.  "But the bible verse, the salt and ash, you knew what to do - what if I had been alone?" I asked.  "I know which is why I wanted to take this car trip with just you and me to try to explain my life a little better and how you can banish ghosts.  Your great-grandmother had the gift and then I got it to a certain degree and then it landed on you.  I never told your mother," he said with remorse in his voice.  "I should have been there more for you - I'm sorry.  I just spent all my life running from this and then when you said all those things at the family reunion  from the ghosts of our families I wanted to stay but your mother just kept pushing me away.  I wanted custody but back in the 1960's they never would have given it to me.  I'm so sorry, baby, I really am."   For the second time in my life - I saw my father cry.

We sat in the car and looked out the window not saying anything.  At least my father had come clean but all those years felt wasted and I didn't know what to say.  "Sophia, I want you to know I will always be there for you- believe it or not - I always have.  I talked to Etta about using her knowledge of the occult to help you.  I also asked Granddaddy to mentor you as well.  I wanted you have people and entities around who could help and protect you when I was not around - the way I wished someone would have helped me.  The rock salt circle was protection from the bad things - that's how I want you to see me.  I love you baby girl more than I can say.  Please forgive me." 

I wanted to say something about how I felt like he was not around enough, that I felt abandoned when he started his new family, that I needed to know about all this sooner.  But he was telling me now and that meant something.  If I've learned anything from all the ghosts I've encountered  - it was that having regrets in life were not easily released in death and I didn't want that for him or me.  "l love you too Daddy and I always will."   I leaned over and gave him a big hug and he held me close just like that time I was six and he carried me up the stairs after the reunion.   

Daddy started the car and we got back on the highway - the road to college and my soon to be adult life.  I wasn't sure what the future held but I knew one thing for certain - my Dad would always have my back.   

  

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.