You're Not Alone

Chapter Ten

  My apartment was off limits for the night. Andjela didn’t feel it was safe for me to stay there. We were sitting at Mr. Princeton’s dining room table while he disappeared into another room. She helped herself to Mr. Princeton’s kitchen and scrounged up some cheese, crackers, and two stiff drinks.

  “Quinn, you said you felt Matthew pass through you.”

  “I know it sounds crazy, but yes. I can’t even begin to describe the feeling, but I watched the smoke come toward me. It disappeared just as it reached me…here.” I touched my chest. “For a second I felt I couldn’t breathe, and then the most amazing calm came over me. I didn’t hurt from the pain of missing him.” I could still remember the overwhelming feeling of peace it gave me. “And for that brief moment, I knew everything was okay. But it wasn’t. It felt as if he was ripped from me once again.” I took a swallow of the drink Andjela placed before me and almost spit it out.

  Andjela smiled. “Too stiff?”

  In a raspy voice, I answered. “You could say that.”

  “Just don’t take such a big gulp.”

  “Yeah, I’ll remember that next time you make me a drink.”

  “I don’t always make them that strong, but this is an exception.”

  “No offense, but you seem to be under the impression that alcohol can take care of a lot of things.” I smiled weakly.

  “No offense taken. In my line of work, it does help.” Andjela hesitated. “Quinn, can I ask you a personal question?”

  “Sure?”

  “Why didn’t you and Matthew get married? Didn’t you tell me you were together for almost ten years?”

  “Yes, I did.” I sighed. “The year before he got sick he started to talk about getting married. I have to be honest with you—when he talked about it, I got all giddy. I thought he finally let go of his religious and parent’s objections.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Matthew was Orthodox Jewish. His parents didn’t like us being together but they tolerated it because they didn’t want to alienate him. But they relentlessly reminded him that it was against his religion to marry outside of it.” Andjela looked at me. I realized she didn’t quite understand. “Look at my hair. Red. Bright red. Totally Irish Catholic.”

  “Oh. Sometimes I forget there are still people in the United States that cling to those ideals even though this is supposed to be the land of the free and indiscriminate.”

  “Believe me, discrimination is still alive and well in the good ’ole US of A and it comes in all shapes and sizes.”

  Andjela smiled. “It’s not just in this country. It’s everywhere, and it’s unfortunate.”

  Remembering her parents’ story, I replied, “Yes, you should know. Anyway, I think that’s why we didn’t marry for so long. But one day he just started talking about what it would be like if we did get married. Where would I want to do it, who would we want to be there.

  “He never officially proposed to me. I think we just assumed we would do it. We wanted it to be the right time, to be special, so we decided to wait and put away some money to do it ourselves because we knew his family would fight us every step of the way.

  “We tossed a few ideas around. Get married by the lake on a beautiful sunny day or in the mountains on a colorful autumn day.” I looked at Andjela and wiped a tear out of my eye. “But like with everything else, cancer got in the way. Matthew getting healthy was the only thing on our minds.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I wouldn’t have done anything differently.”

  “I believe everything happens for a reason. The reason for this just hasn’t shown itself to you yet.”

  It was time to change the subject. I shifted in my chair. “So, how is Mr. Princeton going to help me. Better yet, how can he help Matthew if what you say is true?”

  “Eddie and I have talked about situations like this before.” Andjela leaned back in her chair and caught my gaze. Her green eyes were solemn and serious. I braced myself for some more unbelievable truths. “Has he shown you The Book of the Dead in that wooden case in his living room?”

  “Yes, he did, when Chaz and I were here for dinner. Why?”

  “So he explained what it was and what it did?”

  “Something about Egyptians and the afterlife.”

  Andjela smiled. “Yes, something like that. Quinn, from what you’ve told me and what I felt tonight, Matthew is in danger. I know it’s hard for you to fathom that a spirit can be in danger, but they can. Remember what I told you about the angry spirits, the specters?”

  “Yes, I know. I’m sorry. I think I’m just a little tired and a lot overwhelmed, so just tell me what is going on and what we have to do.”

  “It’s worse than I thought. The fact that the specters and Matthew’s spirit have connected doesn’t leave us much time. If we don’t do something soon, Matthew will be gone. I mean his spirit will be gone.”

  “Would that be such a bad thing? I would have peace and quiet, and I’ve already decided I’ll just sell and get a small place so I can keep my business.”

  “No, you won’t,” Mr. Princeton said as he entered the room carrying a notebook.

  Startled, I looked at Mr. Princeton and sighed. I wasn’t going to get peace and quiet.

  “I firmly believe Matthew is trying to help you. He wouldn’t desert you. I know that. But Andjela feels if we don’t help him soon, he will be totally lost to us and to you. Whatever message he is trying to communicate to you will be lost as well.” He looked at Andjela. “Which I am sure is about how Quinn can keep the properties and not lose her shirt.”

  “Eddie, you said an idiom.” Mr. Princeton stared at Andjela. You could see the wheels turn in his head as he probably tried to connect her statement to the relevance of our problem. He laughed as he sat down at the table, although I still didn’t think he knew what he was laughing at. He placed the opened notebook in front of him. “I think I found it.” He looked at Andjela with excitement of a little child seeing all the Christmas presents under the tree.

  “Found what?” I butted in.

  “A spell that will help Matthew to defeat the specters.”

  “Seriously?” I looked from one to the other.

  Mr. Princeton continued without giving me any acknowledgement, he just looked past me to Andjela, “You see the Papyrus of Ani that I have in my display cabinet is only a copy, and only a copy of part of the whole Book of the Dead.” He pushed the notebook toward Andjela. “But I have been to the British Museum, and I have studied the entire parchment. I’ve worked with other scholars to further translate and evaluate the hieroglyphics and the spells. It’s all here in this notebook and on page one hundred and thirteen is the spell I was looking for. Number forty-one. It’s from the section titled ‘Protection from Peril.’ The spell is supposed to ‘prevent the deceased from being slaughtered by demonic servants.’” His smile covered the whole bottom part of his face.

  I glared at Mr. Princeton. How could you smile about slaughtering by demonic servants?

  Andjela picked up the notebook and read the spell. After she finished, she looked up at Mr. Princeton. “I think we can make this work, Eddie, but from what you’ve told me, it will be tricky.”

  “I know, I know. I actually have some parchment, not papyrus, of course, but it’s a piece I purchased in Egypt a few years ago. I would be willing to donate it to this cause. I can write out the spell, but the trick will be getting it into the coffin.”

  At this, my head turned sharply to look at Andjela. “What is he talking about? Inside whose coffin?”

  Andjela spoke quietly. “I think you better have another stiff drink while we explain this.”

  “I don’t want a stiff drink. What I do want is for both of you to stop talking as if I am not in the room and explain what you’re discussing.”

  Mr. Princeton made a deep sigh. Andjela put her hand up. “Eddie, let me explain.” Mr. Princeton leaned back in his chair, silent.

 
“Quinn, we need to help Matthew because he needs to help you. We can help Matthew.” She leaned forward. “It’s going to sound crazy, crazier than it already does, but we know we can help. Matthew needs a way to fight off the specters. If he doesn’t, he will lose. You saw this tonight in your bedroom. He reached out to you by passing through you, but he was stopped. And what you described to me tells me he is losing in his battle with them.

  “Much of the research that Eddie, Mr. Princeton, has done, has been on the Book of The Dead spells that were used for the Egyptians in their afterlife. There were spells to help them fight off monsters, other spirits—like this one here. That is what we need to get to Matthew. But he is a spirit and we can’t just hand it to him.”

  “He moved the locket around my apartment. He changed the picture. Can’t we just put the spell in the locket? Set it on the dining room table and let him pick it up?” I pleaded as I was beginning to realize what they were suggesting.

  “It doesn’t work that way,” Mr. Princeton interjected.

  “Why?”

  “Because we are among the living. He is among the dead. The spell has to be among the dead too. That’s how they work, how they were written.”

  Andjela continued. “That’s why we need Mr. Princeton’s help. He can write the spell out on parchment. Then we need to get it into his coffin.” She kept my gaze.

  “Okay, and just how are you going to do that?” I asked, not stopping to actually think about what she just said.

  “We are hoping you can help us with that part.”

  “Again. Seriously?”

  “You are a funeral director, are you not?”

  “Yes, but I don’t own a cemetery, let alone the one Matthew is in, and in case you didn’t know, there are laws against going and just digging someone up. You need permits and just reasons to exhume a body, and it’s the Shikmans’ son for God’s sake! There is no way they would ever agree to that, period, especially if they knew the reason you’re giving me.” I glared at the two of them. “Has to be another way.”

  “There isn’t. Not that I know of,” Andjela said.

  “You haven’t even tried to contact him. We were going to have a séance. You could do that and give him the spell during the séance,” I pleaded.

  “Quinn, I can’t contact Matthew.”

  “You said you could.”

  “I could when there were no specters. Now they prevent it.”

  “How do you know if you haven’t tried?” I felt tears start to roll down my cheeks. I angrily wiped them away.

  “I have had a lot of experience with this. Whenever there are specters, I have never been successful contacting the spirit I am supposed to communicate with. No one I know that does what I do has been able to do it either. The specters are a strong force that blocks all connections with the spirit I am trying to communicate with. This weakens the spirit because they are so determined to get a message to their loved one that being prevented from doing so drains their strength.”

  “But if you knew specters could appear, you could have had the séance and warned him,” I reasoned.

  Andjela’s voice softened almost as if she was apologizing. “I never know if specters will appear. It is a chance we communicators always take. We have to wait for the best time, for the best connection to the spirit, because we only have one chance to receive their message. We hope the specters don’t find the spirit before we connect.

  “Besides, even if we did have the séance earlier, I can only communicate what he wants to say to you, Quinn. I can’t communicate what you want to say to him. And as Eddie said, the spell was written for the dead. Even though it has to be given to the dead, I can’t just hand it to him during a séance. It doesn’t work that way. Do you follow?”

  “This just all sucks,” I muttered. “So you’re telling me it’s only one-way communication?”

  “It was when there weren’t any specters. Now it’s no communication.”

  I looked down and shook my head once again in disbelief. Mr. Princeton got up from his chair, came over, and knelt down beside me. “Quinn, look at me, please.”

  I slowly turned my head because I needed a second to gain control. I didn’t want to be angry at him or Andjela. They were only trying to help. But dig him up? Open his coffin?

  “When I visited Matthew in the hospital, he asked me to take care of you. There was more he wanted to say, but I told him to rest and I would come back. He could tell me later. But that was the day he slipped into the coma. I believe he wanted to tell me whatever it is he is trying to tell you now. I believe, no, I know, that Matthew would never have left you in this position if he really thought he was going to die.

  “You both thought he was going to live. That’s how he faced his illness. He was going to live, and I don’t think he ever changed that frame of mind even when he went into the hospital. He still thought he’d come out of it. I would never forgive myself if we didn’t try. We have to try. For Matthew. For you.”

  I looked at Andjela. She smiled at me. Once again, her smile seemed to take the edge off my whirling emotions. Mr. Princeton spoke again, and I turned to face him. “We’re not going to exhume his body. We just need to get at the coffin enough to open it slightly so we can slip the piece of parchment inside.”

  “Even if I wanted to, there is absolutely no way we could get permission to dig.”

  Mr. Princeton got up and went back to his chair. “We may not need to. Isn’t he buried at St. Luke’s Cemetery?”

  “Yes and no. He’s in the Jewish Cemetery. It’s next to St. Luke’s and is owned by the same person.”

  “Doesn’t Chester Manning own that?”

  “Yes, he does.”

  “That might help us. How well do you know Chester?”

  “We’re friends, but I think the bigger question is how well do you know him?”

  “He’s taken classes from me and has attended most of my lectures on Egyptian Burials. We’ve gone out for coffee a few times to discuss the afterlife. I believe he has had some interesting experiences in his cemetery, but he hasn’t enlightened me. I think he is cautious…” Mr. Princeton winked at us. “If you know what I mean. There are many more skeptics out there than believers, so the believers often stay hidden in the shadows and live vicariously through my classes and lectures. A lot like Chester.” He smiled.

  My head was swimming. I was learning so much about Mr. Princeton that I never knew: Matthew asking him to look out for me, his beliefs, and now his connection to Chester. I’d recently resigned myself to not being surprised at anything anymore, because certainly I had heard and seen it all. What more could there possibly be? Now I wasn’t so sure.

  Mr. Princeton continued. “I think if the three of us request a meeting with Chester and explain what is going on, he might just look the other way so we can perform this task.”

  “It’s worth a try,” Andjela added.

  “I only have one question,” I said. “Who’s going to dig up the grave?”

  “Well, we are of course,” Mr. Princeton said with the enthusiasm of a little kid getting to do something he wasn’t supposed to. “Do you want to call him or would you like me to?” He smiled like a Cheshire cat.