“Why don’t you use pills?” Frank asked as he laid the plastic bag and duct tape on the bathroom sink. “Seems less traumatic that way.”
Alma slipped her jacket off and hung it on the door. “Pills mess me up. They take way longer to get out of my system than they used to,” she said. “Help me with the ice.”
They opened the six bags of ice they’d brought with them and filled the bathtub. They’d thought of everything, he’d hoped. Frank had never seen Alma work, but it seemed safer with a partner.
“You know what to do?” she asked.
“I do.”
“My instinct will be to fight, so don’t stop until it’s done.”
“I won’t let you down. Let me know when you’re ready.”
Alma stood in between Frank and the tub and placed the plastic bag over her head. He helped her tape it shut around her neck as she looked up at him, taking deep breaths. He tossed the roll of tape in the bag. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he looked straight at her to see she was indeed ready. Her pale face looked distorted under the plastic bag. She was breathing heavily. In. Out. Deep breaths to use the oxygen faster.
He put his arms around her in a bear hug, trapping her arms at her side. He turned away from her as Alma buried her head in his chest. Her reflexes kicked in. She had a mighty fight response. Her body began to thrash wildly and she started screaming. Frank held her tight and lifted her off the ground. Her legs flailed, kicking his shins and the side of the tub. Her shoe flew off. She struggled against his grasp. This was always the most terrifying part, he hoped.
Her body loosened and almost slipped out of Frank’s arms. He leaned her over into one arm and lifted her legs with the other. He laid her lifeless body in the tub filled with ice, removed the tape and plastic bag and laid her hands on her stomach. Her face was contorted by the agony of her dying breath. Frank closed her mouth and eyes and tried not to look at her face again. He was breathing heavily and shaking. He’d never seen anyone die before, let alone assisted. He took a few moments to compose himself. This was what he signed up for afterall.
Frank sat on the bathroom floor with his legs folded. His back was straight. He rolled his head back and forth, loosening the tension. With his hands faced up on his knees, he began his controlled breathing and closed his eyes.
“Alma,” he said. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes,” said a whispering voice.
Chills ran down Frank’s spine at the sound of her voice from the ether. “What do you see?”
“What I always see,” she said. “Darkness. Let me concentrate.”
There was a noise from downstairs. Frank’s eyes shot open. “I heard something.”
“I’m working on it. Close the bathroom door.”
Frank leapt up and shut the door, meeting resistance as it was nearly closed. He leaned into the door and shut it. He slid down and sat with his back against the door. “He’s close. I’m going to try to make contact.”
Frank cleared his mind. His breathing was slow and deep. “Jacob, can you hear me?” The hair on Frank’s arms stood up something entered the room. He couldn’t see him, but he could feel his presence as well as Alma’s. “I can feel you, Alma. You did it!”
“Hello Jacob,” Alma said.
“Who are you?” Jacob said.
Frank grabbed the bag and retrieved the case file. The heading read Alma Investigations. Frank skimmed over the basic details of the address and contact information and went straight to the report. It was a haunting in a house recently purchased by a young family. Their research had found a man named Jacob had died in the house decades ago and there have been a few reports of strange phenomena over the years. They weren’t able to find many details other than the man had died as a result of injuries sustained during a robbery.
“We’re here to help,” Alma said.
“What are you doing in my house?”
“Jacob, this hasn’t been your house for a long time. Do you remember what happened to you?”
“What do you mean?” Jacob asked.
Frank felt the air shift and thicken. The lights over the mirror flickered briefly. “What’s the last thing you remember, Jacob?”
The room felt a little warmer and the lights brightened slightly. “I remember Jessica,” Jacob said. “My wife. We were happy. Our daughter was so small. So precious. This was her parents house, we bought it from them when we got married. It was a good neighborhood, quiet. Except for that night.”
The room suddenly got cold again and the lights flickered on and off. Frank could feel Alma and Jacob in the room with him, but they were difficult to pinpoint. It was as if a fog had descended into the bathroom, or a memory he couldn’t quite place.
“Focus on Jessica,” Alma said. “Tell us about her. What was she like?”
Jacob was quiet. Frank concentrated. He tried to find him. He closed his eyes to not be distracted by what he could see. He needed to feel around in the ether. There were no physical objects in the ether, just energy. “It’s like a garden,” Alma would say. “There is potential there, under the surface, but you can’t see it. What I do is tend the garden. I encourage it.”
Jacob had gone dark. “Jacob? Alma?”
“He’s still with us, Frank. Give him a moment.”
Frank considered lighting a cigarette, but decided to wait until they’d finished. He checked Alma’s body temperature and moved some ice around. Holes were made as she melted the top layer. He wondered how long she had until she couldn’t come back. Her body was so peaceful, she looked like she was asleep, he thought. Frank knew better. He examined her leather bracelets she wore on her forearms. He’d never seen her without them. They were adorned with hand stitched skulls and exes in red against the black leather. She didn’t like to talk about them, but Frank managed to get the truth out of her one day. She was sixteen when she took her life for the first time. A razor and bathtub were her means. She entered the garden and didn’t like what she found. She was light on the details. Somehow she managed her way back into her body and lived again.
The resurrection was not without consequences, however. She never fully healed anymore, which is why she didn’t like making anymore marks on her body. She couldn’t gain weight and at thirty years old she still looked like a teenager, except for her white hair. She was generally pale and her hair follicles no longer retained any pigmentation, no matter how many times she dyed it. Then there were the nightmares. The feeling of existential dread that was more real than ever before. She’d gone over many times and she always came back a little worse. If Frank were a better man, he’d plead with her to stop.
“She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever met,” Jacob’s voice broke the silence. “I never knew what she saw in me, but we were perfect together. She used to hum in her sleep. It was a peaceful tune. Always the same one. Her laugh was terrible. It was a big, loud laugh that always made me laugh. So I would try to make her laugh as often as I could.”
“Hold on to that, Jacob,” Alma said. “Hold on to the good memories as tight as you can. That’s what you need to move on.”
“I don’t want to move on. I want Jessica back. Can you give me Jessica back?”
They were silent.
“I didn’t think so.”
The room suddenly felt empty. The absence of sound was like static building in Frank’s ears. He opened his eyes. Everything was fuzzy for a moment. “Alma, where is he?”
“He’s on the move. Stay there.” Her voice was faint like she was far away. Frank sat in silence and meditation. He could hear the ice cracking under Alma’s body. He focused on the sound and let it fill his mind. There was a drip from the sink. He waited patiently for the next drip, trying not to guess when it would occur. His foot began to tingle. He sat with the feeling for a few moments before moving his foot to relieve the pressure and stop the sensation. He felt the hair on his arms rise and it traveled to the back of his neck.
“It’s better for everyone for you to move on, Jacob. Trust me,” Alma said. She was much closer again, perhaps the hallway.
“Where is Jessica?”
“If you want to be with Jessica again you have to move on. Your attachments are weighing you down and binding you here. This is no place to linger and you’ve been here too long.”
“I just want the pain to stop,” Jacob said.
“One way or another, Jacob, you are leaving here tonight.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Jacob asked.
Frank felt queasy and light headed. The room began to tilt slightly from side to side. He felt like he was on a boat when the seas were starting to get rough. The bathroom mirror cracked and everything was still again. Frank stood up and examined the damage. The crack was small, only an inch or so long. “What the hell was that?”
“Jacob,” Alma said. “It’s time to move on. You have to leave your old life behind before you’re trapped here.”
“This place is so empty,” Jacob said. “It’s cold and empty, like space. There is nothing here but I can’t let go.”
“Think of Jessica. Focus on her smile, her eyes. The smell of her hair. The warmth of her touch.” Alma’s voice quieted as she spoke. It was not distance, but a gentle whisper. “Think about the quiet moments, holding her in your arms. Sleep, Jacob. Let the emptiness embrace you.”
The room was quiet once again. Slowly, Frank heard the crackling of ice and a gentle hum of the bathroom lights.
“He’s gone, Frank. I’m coming back.”
The quiet was shattered by the gasping for breath from the tub as Alma came back to life. She sat up quickly, coughing and crying, sinking down in the ice. Her blood was beginning to pump again, warming her body. Frank covered her in a towel and helped her out of the tub onto the bathroom floor. She was breathing heavily. Frank began to rub her shoulders to dry her off.
“I’m ok,” she said. “Just give me a minute. I’ll change clothes and meet you downstairs.”
From the couch in the living room, Frank could hear the pipes pushing water through the house. He busied himself with writing a report of everything that happened, remembering the details as best he could.
Alma descended the stairs, backpack in hand, looking tired but dry. Her white hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her jacket zipped up tight around her. She sat on a chair opposite Frank and sighed.
“Everything alright?”
“As well as it ever is,” she said. “Coming back is always the hardest part. It takes my body a little while to get going again. I’ll be fine.”
“Well, I’d call that a successful first case.” Frank finished documenting the evening. “I have some questions, of course.”
“Of course. He moved on, which is the best result. The clients won’t have anymore problems with this house, aside from mold I guess. The usual stuff.”
“He was alone then?” Frank asked, but he knew the answer already. “I didn’t sense anyone else, but I wasn’t on the other side.”
“It was just us. Then it was just me. We’ll deduct some money from the bill for the mirror. We’ll figure that out tomorrow.”
“What happened with that?”
“That was me. I had to show Jacob the alternative to moving on peacefully.”
“What was the alternative?”
Alma stared at Frank and Frank stared back. They were both stubborn. Frank was inquisitive, but Alma was rarely forthcoming. “Consumption,” was all she said.
The drive back to the office was a quiet one. Alma rested with her head on the door panel as Frank drove through the empty streets, a cigarette between his lips. The windows were down and the cool, early autumn breeze was refreshing. The moon was hidden behind the clouds. It was a peaceful night.
Alma slipped into the office, which was a historical house just outside of Downtown. Office buildings and condos towered over it, but it had stood for over a hundred years. Alma had fallen in love with the house and spent years trying to buy it. She moved in when she bought it and they turned the downstairs into the office for her new business, Alma Investigations.
She dropped her backpack in her desk chair and went to the kitchen. She pulled out enough food for three people; leftover lasagna, potato salad, bread, cold cuts and condiments and ate everything. She was always hungry and drained after visiting the garden, especially after battling and consumption. The truth was Jacob didn’t go easy, they never do. Alma found the best way to deal with hauntings was to distract them with good memories while she maneuvered into a good position to gobble them up.
She thought about telling Frank the truth, but ultimately she knew that would be a bad decision. She wasn’t concerned with what he would think of her. What concerned her was that Frank might harbor the misguided impression that there is an existence beyond this life. The thought that we might have souls that could transcend this existence and traverse dimensions to a better place. She kept the truth to herself; ghosts are merely energy trapped between existence and negative space. At least, that’s how she understood it. She’d been beyond the veil and come back. There was nothing but emptiness out there. A void. If Frank found out, he might not be able to use his ability of communing with the dead, then he’d be no use to her.
She cleaned up the mess she made in the kitchen and then drug herself upstairs to bed. There was paperwork to do and a bill to finalize, but that could wait until tomorrow. She wanted nothing but to pass out and not wake until the afternoon. Maybe she’d get lucky and not wake up at all.