A Penny Down the Well: A Short Story Collection of Horrifying Events (10 page)

“
I feel like I have
somewhere to be. You ever got yourself dressed, grabbed your keys,
walked to the door and stood in the doorway just wonderin’ where it
was you were about to go?” She asked, her voice returning to its
sweet, age-afflicted tone. “Oh, you ain’t ever dealt with that, as
young as you are.”

Clint smiled, shaking his
head. “No. No, that’s happened to me more than once.”

“
Well, I guess dying is a
little like that. It’s like standing in the doorway with your keys
in your hand. You know you have somewhere to be, but until your
mind’s kind enough to let you in on the secret, you’re just
standin’ in the doorway.” And her smile grew, thin, red lips
glowing as the sun began to fall on the Western horizon.

“
There’s no light? No
heaven?” Questions.

“
Well, unless you’re God
and that sobbin’ assembly over there is a band of trumpetin’
angels, I’m gonna assume I haven’t made it or there isn’t one.
However...” Maggie leaned toward the window of the passenger side
door, extended a finger and tapped on the glass with a
well-manicured acrylic nail. “...Gertrude McCarthy ain’t no angel.”
And she peeked over her shoulder at him, with a sort of youthful
glance that exposed a playful child inside. “And this hearse ain’t
no gilded carriage carryin’ me down golden streets, either.” And
she winked to Clint.

Clint laughed. He was
fascinated. No longer afraid, he enjoyed the presence of the woman,
or ghost, or apparition, or whatever she might have been; she was
pleasant.

Clint and Maggie shared a
pleasant conversation. Clint asked a great deal more questions and
Maggie replied with a hint of mystery, occasionally confusing, but
mostly with sweet sincerity and playfulness. She was a great woman,
Clint thought.

“
You’re working for her
now, right? That one there? Marie?” And Maggie tapped on the window
again, pointing out Marie as she rose with the others at the
conclusion of the funeral ceremony.

“
She’s the manager of the
funeral home. She contracts me. Do you know her?” Clint thought
about Marie’s reaction earlier in the parlor.

“
We’re dear old friends,
Clint. She’s a good woman. You’d do well to take care of her.”
Maggie added, looking back to Clint who was still watching the
woeful Marie move back toward limousine she arrived in.

Clint nodded. “Well, I do
what I need to for her.” Simply.

Maggie smiled, patting his
hands again. Clint’s hands were out on his lap now rather than
shielding his face. “That’s all I could ask. I should get goin’.
I’m sure I have somewhere to be.” And Maggie’s hand rested on the
door handle. Clint heard the motor pop and unlock of the doors,
only now he hadn’t a will to open them and run.

Maggie opened the door.
“Maybe I can rest in peace now that that Gertrude’s never gonna be
seen again.” Maggie stepped out of the hearse and closed the door
behind her. She walked out toward the funeral ceremony, apparently
unseen by the others that arrived in the procession and eventually
vanished as she stepped behind a large, shaded tree near the
funeral tent.

As Clint watched her
vanish, he muttered an unconscious “goodbye” in her direction. If
the fabric of reality could be unwound to manifest something like
her, he believed she just might have heard him, even at a whisper.
Immediately Clint reached for his cellphone and called Kaylie. She
didn’t answer, but he practically screamed into her
voicemail.

“
Kaylie,
you need to meet me like
right
now
at the library. I’m driving straight
there. I’ll see you in a minute. You’re not going to believe
this.
I
don’t
believe this! Okay, see you in a minute.” And he hung up. Off he
went, suit and all, toward the library to await her
arrival.

Clint waited for what
seemed like forever. Eventually, Kaylie arrived with a bag a cheese
puffs in hand, pajama-clad at her legs and adorned in an oversized
white undershirt. The circumstances which had Clint at the library
in his suit and tie and Kaylie there thoroughly prepped for bed
created a weird contrast between the two.

Kaylie, finishing off one
the little puffs, one so disturbingly artificial looking, asked
jokingly. “Was this supposed to be a formal event?” And she looked
down over herself. Kaylie, still, was a pretty girl. She wasn’t
pretty in the way many women were, with an intense amount of effort
to make sure everything was in place, matching and organized. She
was pretty with a sort of natural, careless way. She rarely dressed
up and when she did, she lost some of that to an invading
(artificial) awkwardness.

Clint was sitting on a
small sofa arranged for reading and he pat the seat next to him,
signaling for her to sit. “You’re not going to believe this! I
don’t think I believe this.” The second statement was for
himself.

Kaylie smirked, shrugged
indifferently then sat next to him. Kaylie was always good for a
bit of drama and gossip, but her mood seemed clouded. “What am I
not going to believe? Why are you dressed like that?”

Clint waved his hand, as
if to tell her to never mind his attire. “So, alright...” He
paused, eyes raising to the ceiling as he thought logically of
where to begin the absolutely illogical experience. “...so, today I
had this woman that died.” He started.

Kaylie’s eyes shot wide.
“A woman died?” She shouted.

Clint shook his head,
interjecting quickly to douse the growing fire. “No, no. She was
already dead, Kaylie. I was transporting her for the funeral. You
know?”

Kaylie nodded, settling
down a little. To her, that was less exciting. Still, like an
interested observer at a movie theater, with cheese puffs popping
into her mouth instead of popcorn, she listened.

“
Well,
remember yesterday how I told you about the crazy military man? The
guy that was talking about the story, that just got into my car?
How he just looked like the same guy that I actually
transported
in the
coffin
? Well...” And he took a deep
breath. “I think it
was
the guy in the coffin, Kaylie. But... like, a
ghost of him! Because the
same
thing happened today, with the lady. Her name was
Maggie Wilcox and she was in my car, talking to me, today!” It all
came out in a long-winded ramble and Kaylie just listened, stunned
and silent.

After a short while, even
with the nonverbal cues from Clint for Kaylie to respond, nothing
was said. He finally chose to just ask. “Well?”
Hopelessly.

Kaylie, just a second
later, burst into laughter, slapping Clint on his arm with her
cheesy fingers, leaving a powdery residue on his dark suit. “Oh,
you had me going to there for a minute, Clint! Seriously.” As she
started to calm down. “What’s going on? You didn’t call me out here
to mess with me, did you? I had a great movie playing, but it was
hard to enjoy after hearing you all frantic on the phone.” And her
brows knit. She would be upset if he was messing with
her.

Clint shook his head,
taking her hand. He stared her in the eye and spoke slow and clear.
The gesture itself was unlike Clint and he thought that it might
contribute to his more serious tone. “Kaylie. Listen to me. The
dead are appearing in my hearse. I don’t know how. I don’t know
why. But, they’re coming to me. They’re talking to me and they’re
sharing their messages. You know me, I wouldn’t just make this
stuff up. You may not believe me, but I’m telling you, I know what
I saw and this is the real thing.” And he let out a long breath,
continuing to stare.

Kaylie’s eyes drifted down
to his hand on hers and then back to his eyes. “Clint, you’re
scaring me a little. Are you saying—“ and she shook her head,
questioning look about her face, unable to accept the revelation at
face value.

Clint nodded with a final
bit of affirmation. “Yes. Yes.”

Kaylie’s hand pulled back
from his and went over her mouth. “There are ghosts?!” And she
asked the question again, hushing herself as she drew the attention
of the late-night library goers. “There are ghosts?” While leaning
in.

Clint nodded again. “I’ve
met two of them. The two people whose bodies I’ve had to transport.
They’ve literally sat in the car with me and spoke. This one today,
this Maggie Wilcox? We had a conversation. You know I wouldn’t make
this up.” Clint repeated.

Kaylie was completely
aghast. She thought about what he was saying for some time, her
eyes staring into his, as if waiting still for him to burst out and
say that this was all a big joke. That time didn’t come. Clint’s
franticness, the sincerity of the look in his eyes and the clarity
of his disclosure all provided evidence that pointed to Clint being
truthful. Kaylie shook her head quickly and brought her hand to his
again, speaking with absolution.

“
Clint, you need to quit.
You need to quit right now. Quit the job, sell the hearse and find
something else to do.” Kaylie’s eyes were wide with caution as she
gave her suggestion.

Clint shook his head and
answered with little thought. “No, I can’t do that.”

Kaylie nearly squealed in
protest. “You can’t?! You literally just began the job. You’re
telling me you can’t find something else to do? We can work on it
together, you and I. Anything other than this!” She
plead.

Clint brought his hand on
top of hers, reassuringly. He looked her in the eye with
confidence. “Kaylie, listen to me. Everything is fine! I’m fine!
Don’t you think that if I thought this was dangerous, I would quit?
Of course I would! But that’s the thing
—
it wasn’t dangerous. It was
actually...” And he paused, trying to find the word.
“...fascinating.” His look was less confident and more
puzzled.

“
You
don’t understand Clint.” Kaylie’s heart was racing. She had never
experienced the presence of the paranormal herself, but she felt
she’d read enough, always having been fascinated by the idea, that
she was a sort of quasi-expert. As experts do, she presented her
own counter-argument. “The spirits that remain in this world do so
because something is
wrong
. They would have passed on
otherwise. But they haven’t, because something needs to be done.
Did they say anything to you about a reason they were still
here?”

Even after having
experienced the apparitions firsthand, Clint still felt the
conversation was migrating its way toward silliness. The experience
he felt he had with Maggie, at least, felt so human and so real
that the ideas proposed by Kaylie seemed an unlikely fit. “The
military man just spoke of an experience. He seemed bothered, but
he didn’t say anything about why he came to me. He almost didn’t
even seem to know he was dead. Maybe that’s why I didn’t believe it
at first. But Maggie knew. Maggie knew she was attending her own
funeral. She even had things to say about it. The reason why she
was still here, though... she wasn’t sure. The only thing she said
was that she ‘felt like she had somewhere to be.’” And Clint
shrugged.

Kaylie presented the
opposite side of the spectrum. “I’ve read about lost spirits, the
ones that have trouble finding their way. So, they remain in a
wandering limbo here on the earth.” With the utmost
seriousness.

Clint shook his head and
laughed. “Kaylie, where the hell did you hear all this
crap?”

“
Crap?!
Clint, you
saw
dead people. They talked to you. You have to believe me! I
know, maybe you had a pleasant experience with one of them. But
what about when the experience
they’ve
had isn’t good? What happens
when they’re angry or vengeful? What then? Do you think they’re
just going to want to sit down and have a conversation with
you?”

Clint watched her quietly.
It was obvious she was very concerned, but Clint simply didn’t
agree with her. “I just don’t think anything like that could
happen. They’re ghosts, right? What could they do to hurt me?” And
Clint’s mind immediately triggered back to the locked doors of the
hearse, the doors he couldn’t open despite his effort. He thought
back to Maggie’s hand touching him. He recalled the realness of
that touch. Slowly, Clint looked away, considering the possibility
that Kaylie may have been right: the job could have been dangerous
should the phenomena continue to happen, and should it happen with
the wrong person.

“
Clint. Please just
consider what I’ve said? I know that it seems a little crazy, but
if what you’re telling me is true, you know you can’t dismiss the
possibility that I’m right. You know that.” Kaylie’s bottom lip
protruded as one would naturally in an expression of concern,
without any deliberate exaggeration.

Clint smiled and nodded,
trying to lighten Kaylie’s spirit. “I’ll consider it, Kaylie. Let
me see how this next job goes, alright? If it makes you feel any
better, I haven’t even been asked to do anything---” and Clint was
cut off by the ringing of his phone. He looked down to the screen
and the name “Marie” sat above an animated green arrow. “Let me
take this, Kaylie. I’ll be right back.” And Clint rose, removing
his hands from hers and stepped away to answer the
phone.