Violet dropped her hands to her side and balled them into fists. Her form flickered between transparent and full body. "How dare you speak to me in such a manner! I am Lady Violet Johnson, wife to Squire Benjamin Johnson, and I will not be talked to with such impudence."
"I can talk to you like that because you're not even a walking corpse," I quipped. I slid out of Roland's arms and stood. "You're not even supposed to be here. You're supposed to be in one of these." I gestured to the graves around us, and she followed my hand. "Maybe you'd be-"
"What?" she roared.
"I said maybe you'd be-"
"Shut up!" she snapped at me.
Violet marched forward, but pushed me aside and looked at the row of graves behind us. They must have been a family plot because the headstones were all the same, though in various sizes. The largest sat in the center of the group and was for a married couple. The top decoration was a bench with a pair of lover who leaned into each others' arms.
"Rebecca Stuart?" Violet screamed. "You married our servant girl?"
I leaned forward and squinted. The glow from Roland's soul box and Violet's ethereal glow let me read the inscription.
Here Lies Benjamin Johnson, Beloved Husband And Father, and Beside Him Lies Rebecca Stuart Johnson, Beloved Wife And Mother. Surrounded By Their 12 Children, They Died In Peace.
"Did you even wait for my body to be buried before you wed? Did you have any dignity for our house after you abandoned it to the elements?" Violet screamed.
The glow around her body grew brighter and her form became more transparent. Roland and I glanced at each other. We slowly slid away, and the ghost completely ignored us. Her body shook with fury and the mist around her pulsed with static-charged energy. The wind picked up around us and whipped my costume and Frank's necklace. Roland clasped my hand and pulled me behind an especially large headstone. We knelt behind the stone as the deafening wind tried to beat out the horrible rage of the furious phantom.
"Twelve children? Was two not enough?" Violet screamed.
"What's happening?" I shouted above the wind and her rage.
"Plug your ears!" Roland replied.
I tucked the soul box between my legs and clapped my hands over my ears. The light on the other side of the gravestone grew as bright as a white-hot sun and lit up the graveyard. Shadows from the highest graves spilled onto the road at the bottom of the hill. Violet's shrill voice turned into a wailing whistle.
And then there was a loud burst, and the earth and air trembled. The light was extinguished at the same time and the world dove into quiet darkness. I slowly lowered my hands and Roland did the same. We stood up and peeked over either side of the tombstone.
Violet, and her mist, were gone. There was only a blackened spot in the grass where she'd stood. I glanced at Roland.
"Um, what just happened?" I asked him.
"It seems she was too full of anger to survive," he surmised.
"Come again?"
"A spirit has no physical body to contain their emotions. If they become consumed by a single, strong emotion for too long then they burst," he explained.
Something soft and small landed on my nose. I tilted my head back and beheld a snowfall of sparkling glitter. I held out my hand and let the sparkles fall into my palm.
"And become glitter?" I added.
"Astral remains," he corrected me.
"Yuk!" I dropped my hand and wiped it on Roland's coat. "You could have told me sooner."
He chuckled. "They won't harm you," he assured me.
A bright glow caught our attention, and we both looked down at my hands and the soul box in them. The astral remains fell onto the lid, and light inside the box brightened. The glitter that fell all around us sparkled in reply and their brightness flew as specks into the box. The glow dimmed in the box and glitter, and in a moment we were in the dark. I tilted the box and looked up at Roland.
"Is this good?"
"Very good," he told me. "My soul has returned to me.
My shoulders slumped and I smiled. "Good. That means we can go home and I can take this stupid necklace off. It's been nothing but-" I grabbed at where the necklace should have been around my neck, but it was gone. I whipped my head left and right, but without the glow I couldn't see a thing. "Where'd it go? Roland, you have to help me find it."
Roland glanced over the ground and turned in a circle. His eyes stopped on one of the lower rows fifty feet down the hill, and he pointed at a particular stone.
"I see it. It's hanging on a tombstone," he told me.
"The wind must have blown it down there," I commented as I grabbed Roland's hand and dragged him down to it. "That thing's going under lock and-key?"
Roland and I stopped five yards from the tombstone. A faint glow emanated from the plant emblem on the chain. The glow floated out of the chain and formed a transparent figure in front of the tombstone. I tilted my head to one side and furrowed my brow.
"Frank?" I whispered.
It was Frank in all his transparent glory. He wore a suit from the fifties complete with dorky bow tie, and across his forehead was an ugly gash. A fatal gash.
He smiled at me. "I'm sorry for using you all night, but I thought it was worth the risk."
"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked him.
He pointed at the tombstone. "I'm talking about this."
Roland and I walked around to the front of the tombstone. The faint glow from Frank let me read the name.
"Francis Truman," I read aloud. My head whipped to Frank and my eyes widened. "You're Francis?"
"In the flesh, or I used to be," he admitted. "I've haunted that highway all these years hoping I would find someone I trust who would bring that necklace back here." He paused and chuckled. "I had to wait a long time for you."
"But Lady Violet-" He shook his head.
"Her ghost never haunted the highway. It was always mine." He picked up the necklace and smiled down at it. "I guess people saw this flash in their headlights and my transparent body, and thought I was a girl."
"Wait, so you left that behind hoping I'd come here?" I guessed.
He looked up and nodded. "Yep. I'd heard about all the strange happenings from the homes along the highway, and I guessed maybe you'd have some hand in it." He winked at me. "You always did have a lot of spunk."
"Francie?" a soft voice spoke up.
All our eyes whipped around to our right. A transparent girl in a white poodle-skirt dress stood five feet away. The girl wore her long brown hair in a ponytail and her shoes were black and pointed. She had a bright, wondrous eyes that looked at Frank in disbelief.
I snorted. "Francie?"
"Violet. . ." he whispered.
He dropped the necklace and ran through us to get to her. A smile brightened her beautiful face. Frank grabbed her around the waist and twirled her in the air.
"Violet! It's been so long!" Frank shouted.
"Too long!" she laughed.
He put her down and clasped her hands as they looked in each others' eyes. "I'm sorry I took so long. I had to wait a long time for someone to bring me here so I could rest." He half-turned to Roland and me. "Violet, this is Misty and Roland. They're the ones who brought my soul here."
She smiled at us. "Thank you so much for bringing him here. I thought he'd never get his lazy bones to his body."
"It wasn't too much of a problem," I told her.
They looked back at each other.
"Are you ready?" she whispered.
Frank smiled. "I've been ready for a long time."
I picked up the necklace and held it out to them. "Don't forget this."
Violet's eyes lit up and she looked to Frank. "My necklace!"
He nodded. "It kept me sane knowing I would one day be able to get to you."
"So which one of you wants it?" I asked them.
Violet shook her head. "No, the necklace is yours now. Consider it my thanks for bringing Francie back to me."
"Keep it safe, Misty," Frank advised me. "You never know when it'll come in handy again."
I lowered the necklace and frowned. "'Come in handy?'"
"That necklace is a powerful symbol of love. Keep it close to your heart and you'll always be safe," he told me.
I snorted and hung the necklace around my neck. "The guys at the diner are going to miss your strange babble, Francie," I teased.
He smiled back. "And I'm going to miss Ralph's apple pie."
"I'll eat some for you," I promised.
"But skip the coffee," he reminded me.
I nodded. "I will."
"Come on, Francie, your parents are waiting," Violet told him.
Frank glanced one last time at me and gave a wave. I returned the wave, and the pair walked away from us. The farther they walked the more transparent they became until they disappeared altogether.
"Quite a Halloween we've had," Roland commented.
I held up the necklace in front of my face and let the flower slowly spin. I realized then it was a bunch of violets.
"One I'm never going to forget," I replied. I dropped the chain and smiled up at him. "But you still owe me a dinner."
He smiled and bowed his head. "So I do, but first there's something I've been meaning to do."
"What's-" Roland leaned down and pressed his lips against mine.
His lips were cool, but they sent a spark of heat through my body. He pulled away and I blinked at him. My cheeks blushed like I was a schoolgirl and I stumbled back. He caught me before I fell and pulled me against him. The only space between us was caused by the soul box.
"I-I-"
Roland pressed his finger against my lips and shook his head. "We both know it can't work. Not yet. But I swear I will find a way to reclaim my soul and be with you in the light."
I smiled and pulled his finger down. "I was going to tell you you're standing on my foot."
Roland glanced down the gap between us and, seeing it was true, he jumped back. "I'm truly-" I pressed my finger against his lips and shook my head.
"It's fine. I'm glad I can leave you as flustered as you leave me," I teased.
I dropped my hand and looked out on the graveyard and the dark night. Everything was so much brighter with Roland by my side, and I'd make sure I stayed by his. No matter what.
SOUL FOOD
CHAPTER 1
The world of the paranormal was weird, but I didn't think it got this weird until I had to fend off a floating dead fish.
It all started at the usual suspected place, Ralph's diner. The hour was about eleven, and the day was Tuesday. I was minding my own business, and the errant hands of some new truckers, when it came.
Ralph stuck his head through the two swinging doors and caught sight of me behind the cash register.
"Ah need ya back here," he told me.
I looked from the register and blinked at him. He never needed help in the back. That was his domain, his kingdom, his sweaty hole-in-the-wall. And he could keep it. There wouldn't be any efforts to overthrow his rule by Candy or me. Or anyone else with a lick of sense.
"Really?" I asked him.
He frowned at me. "Really, now finish what yer doing and get in here."
I shrugged. "All right."
I closed the register and walked back into the kitchen. The back door was propped open with a broom and at the bottom of the steps on the cracked pavement was a stack of a dozen wooden crates. There was an emblem on the side that looked like a red hoof. Ralph stood by the open door and jerked his head at the crates.
"Carry 'em in here," he ordered me.
"What are they?" I asked him as I walked up to the door.
"Fish," he told me.
I raised an eyebrow. "Fish?"
He narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, fish. Sole fish. They're gonna be the special for Thanksgiving."
"What happened to turkey?" I wondered.
"Too expensive. Ah got this mess for a special price," he told me.
"From a door-to-door fish salesman?" I teased.
"Nope, over the phone. Called me up and told me he had a deal on these things. Ah couldn't say no to him. Didn't think it would've been polite," he explained.
I crossed my arms and pursed my lips. "Ralph, are you telling me you bought twelve crates of fish off a guy you never met who called you over the phone?"
"What's wrong with that?" he snapped.
I threw my arms up and sighed. "Nothing. The guy must've given you a great deal."
"Yep. Only ten cents a pound, and free shipping," Ralph told me. He paused and rubbed his chin as he looked over the load. "'Course, that damn driver wouldn't put the things in the kitchen. Said they gave him the spooks. Kept hearing noises in the back while he was hauling them."
"Maybe it was the fish school marching band tuna-ing their instruments," I quipped as I walked down the stairs. I lifted one, grunted, and dropped it back where I found it. "These things are a little heavy for me," I told him.
"That's cause yer not putting much muscle into it. Ya gotta lift with your knees," he instructed me.
"And break my back. . ." I muttered as I looked up and down his skinny frame. "How about we both take an end?"
Ralph winced and rubbed his lower back. "Can't. Sprained something the other day and can't lift a thing."
I rummaged through my pockets and found a dime that I flipped at him. The coin bounced off the pavement. Ralph scurried down the stairs and scooped it up.
"You look pretty spry to me," I commented.
He glared at me. "What am Ah paying ya fer if Ah can't get ya to lift a few measly boxes."
"You're paying me to waitress, not buttle," I quipped.
He stepped aside and pointed at the kitchen. "Well, ya can buttle tonight, now get them inside before they start smelling. The guy said they were getting pretty ripe and were liable to float away if'n we didn't get 'em inside quick."
I sighed and tried Round Two with the crate. The crate lifted and I waddled my way up the stairs and into the kitchen. That was repeated eleven more times until the last crate was on the kitchen floor. Ralph closed the door behind me and surveyed the crates. I sat atop one of them and rubbed my sore arms.
"See? Ah told ya ya could do it," he commented.
"But was it worth it?" I countered.
"We'll let's just find out," Ralph replied. He took a crowbar from beside the door and slammed the head into the lid of the crate I sat on.
I jumped up and glared at him. "There are eleven others," I reminded him.
"Yeah, but ya know there's no sitting down on the job," he argued.
Ralph pulled and grunted, and the lid of the popped up. A few more tugs and jimmying got the lid and its nail completely off. Ralph set the crowbar down and pulled aside the lid. We peeked over the edge. The crate was piled high with tan-colored flatfish with beady eyes. They were eighteen inches long and had wimpy-looking fins on the sides. I took a whiff of the smell and pulled back.
"Smells like rotten eggs," I commented.
"It's not that bad," Ralph argued. He picked one up by the tail and sniffed the fish. The color drained from his face and he dropped it back into the crate. "Maybe Ah can put it in a Thanksgiving Surprise."
"It'll be a surprise if we don't kill somebody," I quipped.
He turned his back on the crate and glared at me. "Ah don't recall ya being the cook around here."
"No, but I've got-" Something caught my attention behind my boss. "Um, Ralph?"
"What?" he growled.
"Are these flying fish?"
"They're bottom feeders. Why?"
I pointed at something behind him. "Because one of them's decided gravity doesn't apply to it."
Ralph turned around to see what I pointed at and his eyes grew as wide as saucers. The fish he'd tossed back still lay on its side, but two feet above the crate. As we watched it righted itself and its dead eyes blinked at us.
Ralph scuttled away from the crate and I slowly stepped back. "I thin
k the food's gone bad," I informed him.
"It's just the smell. We can't really be seeing what we're seeing," he argued.
The floating fish was soon joined by all its brethren from the crate. They floated in a school, and their flippers flapped and their gills moved in and out. Ralph and I bumped into each other by the back door.
"Ah think Ah'm gonna need a pot for 'em," he mused.
"I think you're going to need an exorcist," I shot back.
The fish dashed forward. We ducked and missed the aerial barrage by a fin. The school broke formation and flew all over the kitchen. They crashed into pots and pans, and turned the dials on the oven and stove.
Ralph jumped to his feet and tried to grab one, but its slippery body flew out of his hand.
"What are you doing?" I shouted at him.
"We just need to get 'em back in the crate!" he yelled at me.
The other crates rattled and rocked. Their lids exploded off their sides and the other soles burst from the boxes. They swarmed over the countertops and managed to pry open the fridge. The fish grabbed the food in their small mouths and flew around us pelting us with other dead meats.
"This was a really stupid idea!" I scolded Ralph.
"It was a good price!" Ralph told me.
I ducked from a dead duck and glared at him. "I don't think you got your money's worth!"
Half the fish flew through the swinging doors and out into the front of the diner. Ralph cringed and turned to me.
"Ya think they'll notice' em?" he asked me.
A loud, high-pitched scream followed by the sound of a stampede came from the front.
"I'd say yes," I replied.
Ralph raced through the doors with me close behind. The truckers had all bolted for the door and tripped over each other getting through the narrow space. They lay in a pile of screaming men and flailing boots. The fish floated in a circle above them with their mouths flapping open and shut. Ralph ran over to the pile and held up his hands.
"Stop yer whining! It's just some bad fish!" Ralph shouted at the men.
"Like hell it is!" one of them yelled back. "I'm never coming back here!"
The men managed to pry themselves loose from one another and fly out the door with a few of the fish in cold pursuit. The diner was soon filled with the headlights of semis and trucks as the customers jammed on their gas pedals and barreled out of the parking lot. In a few moments there was quiet. Well, as quiet as flying fish terrorizing the diner could be.