Page 14 of Ghostly
“As if you’re such a reward of a tenant. We could’ve had wonderful discussions—pick any topic, and I’ll research it and debate it with you, and
that’s only if I don’t know ityet. But, no, you’d rather stare into your laptop all day and complain about walks.”
Gabriel gawked.
Ida huffed and glided to the window.
Gabriel turned his attention back to the laptop, though his mind wouldn’t let him settle on the text.
“Actually, there might be one way.”
Gabriel raised his eyes. The glass showed the reflection of the living room in the window, but no Ida, despite her standing beside it.
“I’m trapped in here,” she said, her voice shifting to a sadder tone. “I can only go out to the backyard, up to the fence. I can’t get past it. All I have is this house, and the eternity in it. An eternity of doing nothing. Being nothing.”
Gabriel didn’t need the wave of sorrow to be frightened of the concept itself. For so many years, he’d been trying to achieve the most he could out of his life. How would it feel to have all the time in the world, but also know nothing you do will matter anymore?
“But I believe there is a way for me to leave, permanently. To move on to the great beyond.”
Not wanting to interrupt with another badly timed (and phrased) statement, he let her continue.
“Back in the seventies, I had two lovely tenants, Tanya and Tony. The last ones to properly take care of the garden. Although they did plant some stuff back there that made for very relaxing cookies.”
Oh.
“Anyway, I tried to establish contact. It didn’t go well. They assumed the house was haunted because I’d move objects and such. I tried to write them a message, with her lipstick, on the mirror…” Ida shrugged. “Calligraphy is hard when you’re a ghost. I only scared them more. Tanya started looking into ways to get rid of a ghost, and one day, she brought home a book. She seemed certain it would work.”
“But you’re still here, so it didn’t?”
“That’s not the problem. The day Tanya brought back the book, the cops—well, they found out thesecret ingredientfor the cookies. Tanya not as much stepped through the front door with the book when Tony herded her out of the house, saying they had to leave, quickly. Until they did, the book was left in the car—”
“Which was beyond the fence.”
“Exactly.”
“Okay. So I’d have to hunt down the same book Tanya found.”
“There might be an easier way.” Ida floated to him. “Tanya couldn’t return the book, so Tony said they’d leave it at the town library, as a donation. It could still be there.”
“You’re suggesting I find it.” Gabriel blinked. “But I thought you didn’t want to move on. That you wanted to chat and…” He waved his hand in the air.
Ida sighed. “I’ve been here for a long time. I’ve seen a lot, and since I can’t leave, I’ll never see it all. If this is my one chance to move on, I have to take it.” Her voice grew higher, but she shook her head, as if to get herself back together. “And, it’ll meanIdon’t have to be stuck withyou.”
She managed the tiniest smile, so Gabriel returned one. “Sounds great to me.”
“Perfect.” She seemed completely composed now.
“Perfect.” He stood up and rubbed his hands. “Now, tell me what my salvation looks like.”
The Buttons Library (official name) wasn’t hard to find: the town had one main street, and it was on it. Gabriel parked nearby, put on a pair of sunglasses as a disguise, and walked to the solemn red-bricked building. In the early morning, the town wasn’t particularly busy, and the inside of the library was quiet. Gabriel wouldn’t stretch the visit just to get peace from Ida; in and out was his preferred way of operating at the moment. He headed straight for the librarian, a middle-aged woman with a meticulous perm and a blouse and skirt of matching daffodil yellow.
“Hello there.” He opened with his classic charming smile—always made people more receptive. “Do you have a section on ghosts? Curses? Things like that?”
The woman looked up, pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “No sunglasses in the library.”
Gabriel looked around. “There are no signs saying that.” Also, what kind of rule was that?
“I’m saying it. No. Sunglasses. In the library.”
