Page 135 of The Witching Hours

I tried to play it again, but the phone just disappeared from my hand. Winkleman handed me a crewel edged linen handkerchief. I squeezed it to my eyes with both hands not caring what was happening to my eye makeup.

“Everything is as it’s supposed to be,” he said. “This exercise is designed to aid your transition. I hope it has helped. Godspeed.”

When I took the hanky away and opened my eyes, I was no longer standing in the curious goods store. I was getting off a train at a rail station built for another time. I didn’t know where I was, but I did know I’d never seen anything more beautiful. It might’ve been somewhere in the Alps.

The sky was such a pure blue that it was beyond the spectrum of mortal ability to interpret color. It met green mountains covered in wildflowers and those descended to a lake that dazzled with sunlit sparkles made by a small breeze across the water.

“MARY MARIE!”

From behind me I heard an excited voice and two incredibly high-pitched barks. I turned to see my mom running towards me on the platform waving. She was wearing the kind of smile I’d never seen on her face in life, at least not in memory. She’d been mid-seventies when she died, but the woman rushing in my direction was younger than me, closer to thirty. In my eyes, she was perfect. She was beautiful. She was perfectly beautiful.

She was also being outpaced by my dog, who looked like he was at the peak of his prime. Bright eyes. Glossy coat. No cataracts. No arthritis. Pure joy on four legs.

“Bastille!” I greeted him when he jumped up and put paws on me. I decided that not jumping up had been a silly rule. Clothes were made for washing.

My first impulse was tears of joy, but when I thought about crying, I didn’t have tears of joy available. Just joy. No tears.

I was enveloped in a big hug by the beautiful woman who’d come to meet my train. I closed my eyes and reveled in the feeling of hugging my mom. I didn’t want the moment to end. Ever.

When I opened my eyes, there were another dozen people standing around with big smiles. Though they looked different than they had in life, I recognized every family member who’d passed before me.

“Is this the greeting committee?” I said, laughing.

They laughed with me as each gave me a welcome hug and then vanished before I had time to ask all the questions of my heart.

“Come on,” Mom said. “You’re going to stay with me until you decide what you want to do next.” With a soft chuckle, she clarified. “Think of me as your halfway house.”

“Halfway to what?”

“Whatever happens next,” she quipped then pointed to my dog. “He says to tell you his real name. His essential name is Sprigly.”

I was amazed. “Sprigly!” His ears stood straight up at attention. “Mom. I knew that! I think I told Winkleman something about a dog named Sprigly.”

“Winkleman? Oh, your angel.” She chuckled.

“It’s okay with you if Sprigly comes?”

“Oh yeah. Why not?”

“Why not? Because you’re not that crazy about dogs.”

She waggled her head. “Well, I guess I’m a recent convert. Sprigly greeted me and has been with me ever since I arrived.”

“He has?”

“Yes. He felt closer to you when he was with me. But now he’s all yours.”

“Will I be able to understand what he says, too?”

She laughed. “Absolutely. Oh! Did you hear? It’s the best news. Your dad has found somebody to keep him company.”

“I did hear that. I’m glad you’re happy about it?”

“Happy? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. I, uh…”

“Ohhhhh. I understand. Well, Mary Marie. You will soon see that being here changes the way you see things.”

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