Wednesday, September 28, 2016

6: Ghostly Visitation

            A woman dressed in black entered the semi-crowded room at the east end of the Vanderhoff Funeral Home. She walked with a subtle swing in her step that caused her mid-length dress to flow around her. Those she passed took notice. Crystal accents sparkled on the curved neckline and cuffs of her garment. Long dark hair hung softly down her back. She knelt beside the coffin of James Stuart and held her clasped hands to her breast. She bowed her head.
            Waiting behind her was a man with a stocky build, uncomfortable in a suit. His square jaw and glacier blue eyes were held serene, though they gazed with intensity at James’ inert face. The woman seemed to sense him there and turned to extend her hand to him. He knelt beside her, gripping the side of the coffin with his hand.
            “Godspeed,” she murmured.
            “Welcome home,” he intoned.
            They rose together and took seats in the third row. Most of the other visitors were standing, talking in groups or wandering to look at framed pictures about the room.
            “Ah, Mariel,” he said as she slipped her arm under his elbow. “I didn’t think we’d be here so soon.”
            “I know, darling, I know,” she said. “How I’ve missed him though! Glad to wait nevertheless, but now....”
            “And there’s Sunny. I knew she’d come.”
            They watched as a young woman gazed tearfully at James, holding a lace handkerchief to her eyes. Her silky blond hair fell forward as she reached to place a yellow flower against his hands. She kissed her fingertips and brushed them on his arm. She was dressed in white. The white sequins filling a V-shape on the front of her blouse glistened. Rising, she walked slowly to the third row.
            “Ben!” she sighed as she melted into his arms. “And Mariel.” Sunny held her cheek against hers for a few moments. They sat down together.
            The comfort of their closeness showed that they had met many times in this way. They were not related, and the young age of the woman wearing white seemed at odds with the two older people, well over fifty, with whom she was so familiar.
            “I hate to think of how he passed,” said Sunny tremulously.
            “It’s how he lived that’s important,” said Ben in his gravelly voice. “Can’t remember how many shows we were in together…”
            “Didn’t we have fun though,” said Mariel with a dreamy smile.
            “Oklahoma was my favorite.”
            “West Side Story.”
            “1776.”
            “What was his favorite do you suppose?” wondered Mariel.
            “A Christmas Carol.”
            They turned to find James standing in the row behind them. Heartfelt greetings followed.
            “We were talking about all the theater we did together,” said Mariel through her tears. “I thought it would never end.”
            “It doesn’t have to,” laughed James.
            The four of them grew gently indistinct, and disappeared.

(479 words)

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