This is the second part in a series, so if you have not already done so, you might want to read Part I before continuing.
When Abby woke up, the white ceiling above her looked blurry. She blinked a few times, worried about how hard she had hit her head, only to realize that the ceiling looked blurry because she was looking at it through the head of what Abby could only assume was either a ghost or a very persistent hallucination.
“Let’s try this again,” said the ghost/hallucination. “My name is Claire. I would say that I live here, but since I’m not living, that doesn’t seem quite right. It’s more accurate to say that, while my body has moved on, some other part of me remains here, apparently for eternity.”
Abby groaned. “Can you give a girl a minute?”
“I can, but in my experience, it’s best to get this all over with at once.”
“Let me guess, centuries of experience?”
“Oh,” said Claire, with a laugh that sounded like wind rippling through a wheatfield. “I see what you did there. Very clever.”
“Yes, while you’re appreciating my joke, do you think you could get me a glass of water or, I don’t know, smelling salts or something?”
“I didn’t see any smelling salts with your things, but I did bring you a glass of water.” Claire gestured to a glass standing on the bare floor just out of Abby’s reach.
Abby propped herself onto an elbow, reached for the glass and drained it. Putting it back down on the floor, she took her time sitting up before turning to face her companion.
Claire appeared to be kneeling on the floor a few feet away from Abby, but she shimmered in the sunlight, giving the impression of an old movie with a damaged reel.
Finally, Abby said, “What year were you born?”
“1843.”
Abby paused before asking the next question because it somehow seemed more intimate, and she had never been educated on the etiquette of ghostly conversation. “And what year did you die?”
Claire looked away for the first time. “I’m not sure. I think there was a fever …”
Abby waited for her to continue, but she never did. Instead, she looked Claire up and down. “I’m guessing you were, what, 15? 16?”
If Claire looked like a damaged movie reel, the damage appeared more extensive after Abby’s guess. When Abby could see Claire again, the ghost/hallucination appeared to be sitting taller. “I will have you know that I celebrated my twentieth birthday.”
“And then what?”
Claire looked thoughtful, but didn’t answer.
“The fever came shortly after your twentieth birthday?”
Claire nodded, still looking thoughtful and still not looking at Abby. She appeared to be looking off into space, but what did it mean when a ghost did that? Was she looking at something Abby couldn’t see?
Abby looked around her, but couldn’t see anything other than the room in which she had painted a different splotch of wall paint onto each of the four walls.
Finally, she looked back at Claire. “Sore subject?”
That prompted Claire to look back up at her and refocus her gaze. She smiled a small smile. “Not really. It’s just that I don’t remember.”
“Have you ever thought that maybe you don’t remember because it’s a sore subject?”
Claire’s smile widened. “Oh, I don’t know. It happened so long ago, I can’t imagine still being sore about it now. What year is it?”
“2020.”
Claire’s eyes widened. “My goodness.”
Abby couldn’t help pointing out, “So you don’t have centuries of experience in this house. You have less than two centuries by 23 years, assuming you were born in this house.”
“I was.”
“And you died in this house?
Claire got that far-off look again, and Abby struggled to bring her back.
“What I mean is, you don’t remember living anywhere else?”
“No.”
“Great. They sold me a haunted house.”
“I promise not to make any trouble.”
Abby looked at her askance, trying to decide if she should believe a ghost. Could ghosts lie? “You won’t wake me up with loud moaning in the middle of the night?”
“I never moan.”
“You won’t knock things off shelves?”
“I abhor a mess.”
Abby considered for another moment before deciding. “I knew the prospect of finally living alone was too good to be true.”
“Technically you are living alone.”
“Yeah, yeah, you know what I mean,” said Abby. “So, back to business, we decided on azure?”
“Yes, right before you promised me you wouldn’t faint and then fainted.”
“I don’t remember promising I wouldn’t faint.”
Abby could have sworn she saw her ghostly companion shrug.
To be continued…