After/Life_Bargaining Read online

  She passed the hookers’ rooms, some of the doors now closed. Springs squeaked, a baseline to the put-upon female groanings inside. Molly headed outside and descended the steps. She made a mental note of the location. Now what was she going to do?

  “My goodness!” someone said. “That’s amazing!”

  Molly turned to find O’Dell had found his latest mark. It was an elderly woman in a flowery dress. She sat on the other side of the table watching O’Dell. He had a stack of tarot cards in his hands and was laying them down one by one. He laid one down, and then picked up another one.

  “I can see you’re going to come into a great windfall very soon, Delores,” he said. “Some kind of competition perhaps?”

  “Oh yes!” Delores said. “I won a raffle prize. Two tickets to go see the flower show.”

  “And here, I see you have three children,” O’Dell said. “I’m sorry. You had three. Now you have two.”

  Delores was flabbergasted. Her mouth hung open. She could hardly believe what she was hearing.

  “That’s right,” she said. “We lost one on the main road outside the house.”

  “I see they’re doing quite well,” O’Dell said.

  He looked up at the old woman.

  “But I don’t need cards to know that,” he said. “With a great parent like you, they have no reason to be doing badly.”

  Delores chuckled, turning red.

  “You…” she said, waving a finger under O’Dell’s nose.

  Molly leaned in close to O’Dell and saw he had something in his ear. A receiver. She turned to look at the accomplices he had at either end of the street. Both were bent over their smartphones, tapping furiously at the screen.

  Molly approached one and found he was on Facebook. He was scrolling through the old lady’s profile, clicking on the links to discover more about her family and friends.

  Molly shook her head. Psychic my ass. She headed back to watch the boy in action.

  “What a crock of shit,” Molly said.

  O’Dell put his hand to his ear and tapped on the receiver. He turned to Delores, a smile affixed to his face.

  “How about we look at your more distant future?” he said.

  “Oh yes!” Delores said. “Please do!”

  “I see a great deal of outings,” O’Dell said. “Gatherings, possibly birthdays, and a few small house parties.”

  “This is unbelievable,” Molly said, rolling her eyes and folding her arms. “Next he’ll be saying the sky was blue and the grass green when she was young.”

  O’Dell shook his head, let out a sigh, and stood up.

  “Please, don’t stop,” Delores said.

  “Excuse me a moment,” O’Dell said. “I need to recharge my chakras. I’ll be one sec.”

  Molly snorted.

  “More like recharge your bull shit fuel tanks,” she said.

  O’Dell frowned and looked up and down the street. He was looking for someone. Surely he knew where he co-conspirators were? What a Mickey Mouse operation this was.

  O’Dell walked down the street and approached one of his accomplices.

  “Hey,” he said. “Quit the grabass, huh? I need to focus here. I might be able to squeeze thirty more bucks out of her. But you need to quit whispering that crap in my ear. I need to concentrate.”

  “Don’t blame me if she’s not buying it,” the friend said. “I can only work with the tools I got here. She’s old. It’s not like she’s online every minute of the day.”

  “The information’s great,” O’Dell said. “Just quit the sass.”

  “Sure, man,” the friend said. “Whatever.”

  The friend shrugged and turned back to his phone.

  O’Dell headed back to his client. She was watching, waiting for him to return. O’Dell had a big smile on his face.

  “I have some great news,” he said. “I received a message from your husband.”

  “Henry?” Delores said.

  “Yes,” O’Dell said. “Henry. He says he’s doing very well. He thinks about you a lot. He misses you. He’s wondering why you don’t visit his grave more often.”

  “I… I… I’ve been busy,” Delores said.

  “You need to stop being so busy,” O’Dell said. “The dead need love too.”

  “I’m sorry, Henry,” Delores said to the world at large.

  “It’s all right,” O’Dell said. “He’ll be angry for a few decades. It’s no problem.”

  “Decades?” Delores said. “But Henry never got angry for long.”

  “The spirit world is a very different place,” O’Dell said. “Emotions are heightened, more powerful. Love can last for centuries. But so can its negative counterparts.”

  “Is there anything I can do?” Delores said. “If I go to the grave more often?”

  “That’s a start,” O’Dell said. “But I can smooth over the negative feelings he’s harboring.”

  “Thank you!” Delores said. “Thank you!”

  “It will take more energy on my part,” O’Dell said. “It tires me out and I won’t be able to help anyone else after this.”

  “It’s okay,” Delores said. “I can pay more. How much?”

  O’Dell shook his head.

  “I couldn’t,” he said. “I am in service to the universe. I shouldn’t take advantage of my powers.”

  Delores reached into her purse.

  “I have thirty dollars,” she said. “Is that enough?”

  O’Dell took a moment as if this was a big decision for him.

  “Yes,” he said. “Yes, that could work.”

  “Just when I thought you couldn’t sink any lower,” Molly said.

  O’Dell leaped to his feet.

  “Who is that?” he said, casting round.

  He had a panicked expression. Harassed and harried.

  Molly’s mouth fell open. Was it possible? she thought. Could he really...

  “Can you hear me?” Molly said. “Can you hear me?”

  O’Dell turned and walked in the opposite direction, back toward his friend.

  “Is it Henry?” Delores said. “Here’s the thirty dollars. Please calm him down. I don’t want him to haunt me.”

  “This isn’t funny, man,” O’Dell said, marching up to his friend.

  “What isn’t funny?” the friend said.

  “You don’t think I know it’s you?” O’Dell said. “I’m taking whatever we lose out of your share.”

  “Hey man, I ain’t done nothing wrong,” the friend said.

  “Can you hear me?” Molly said.

  O’Dell froze, turning to look back over his shoulder, almost staring directly at Molly. That proved it. He could hear her. He could actually hear her voice!

  “Oh my God,” Molly said.

  “Tell me you heard that?” O’Dell said.

  “Are you all right, man?” the friend said, concerned. “Do you need to lay down for a while?”

  O’Dell backed away, eyes wide, face turning white.

  “If you can hear me, say my name,” Molly said. “Say, Molly.”

  But O’Dell was still in shock, backing into the road.

  “Say it,” Molly said. “Say my name. Say, Molly.”

  O’Dell said something, under his breath.

  “Huh?” the friend said. “What did you say?”

  “Molly,” O’Dell said. Then, with desperation: “Molly.”

  A car screeched to a stop, inches from striking O’Dell. The driver honked his horn and swore at him. O’Dell didn’t stop. He continued to back across the street. He turned and ran.

  Molly, unsure what to say or think, stood flabbergasted. She was still processing the ramifications of what had transpired. There would be time to process later. First, she needed to chase after him. He was what she needed.

  A way to communicate with Sam and Casey.

  With new hope in her heart, she took off at a run. Lose him, lose her opportunity. The game was back on, and the ball was firmly in her cour
t.

  Chapter Four

  O’Dell ran. He dodged around pedestrians and cyclists, narrowly avoiding an old lady pushing a pram. He checked over his shoulders and darted left, crossing the street.

  He slipped on the curb and fell to his knees. He picked himself up and rushed down the street at a fast walk. He didn’t stop until he got to the miniature park on Elm Street.

  He took a moment to regain his breath, puffing and panting. He peered between the gaps in a metal fence but saw no one following him. He let himself smile, shaking his head. He was relieved.

  O’Dell crossed the park and headed toward a rundown building sandwiched between identical hovels on either side. He used his key to open the lock and shut the door behind him. This was not a good neighborhood, and it was never a good idea to loiter on the threshold of your home.

  He fastened the locks, half a dozen that would hold back the Navy Seals if pushed. Then he moved through the dark, dank narrow house.

  “Mom!” he said. “I’m home!”

  O’Dell waited for an answer. There was none. His mother must be at work. Another double shift.

  O’Dell drew the thirty dollars he’d earned that morning and put it in a chintz jar on the dining table. He replaced the lid and opened the refrigerator. He took a swig from the orange juice bottle. He was so thirsty. He drank the rest of it before he took another breath. He put the bottle in the recycle bin and moved back to the stairs. He put his hand on the banister and was about to ascend. He paused.

  He looked at the front door. There was no one there, no noise, and yet the hair stood up on his forearms. There was something there. But he couldn’t see it. And if he couldn’t see it, it might as well not be there. He jogged up the stairs and went into his room.

  O’Dell dumped his backpack on the floor and moved to the window. He checked his watch. It was almost 3 pm. He picked up a pair of binoculars that sat on his bedside table and peered through the only window in his room. It was small, barely a slit, and only let in enough light to illuminate a strip along the floor.

  “Come on,” O’Dell said. “Where are you?”

  Students were beginning to spill from the high school’s main building. O’Dell shifted focus from one group of friends to another. Horsing around, playing games. It was the kind of thing O’Dell had never been much good at. He was more of a solitary figure, preferring his own company than that of others. Well, almost any others.

  “There you are,” O’Dell said.

  He turned the dial on the binoculars to zoom in on an attractive dark-haired beauty. She was among her friends. She smiled often, clutching her books close to her chest. Where her friends were open and brash, Chantelle was calm and collected. The kind of girl who could excel at sports, but preferred to hit the library instead. The girl of his dreams.

  O’Dell smiled. One day, when he was a success, he would approach her. He would ask her out on a date. He would be so successful she wouldn’t be able to say no. Until then, he would enjoy looking at her. There was no crime against that.

  “She’s very pretty,” a voice said. “She your girlfriend?”

  O’Dell swung round and shot back, colliding with the bedside table. He lost his balance and hit the floor, spilling the items on the table. He peered up through his binoculars and then tossed them aside. If his mother caught him ogling girls like this…

  But his mother wasn’t there. No one was. His bedroom door was shut. And now that his panic was over, now he had a little time to think, he realized the voice he’d heard was not that of his mother. But someone else.

  “Or are you a peeping Tom?” the voice said.

  It came from inside the room.

  O’Dell got to his feet and crossed to his bed. He grabbed his baseball bat and primed it. His frantic wide eyes swept the room left to right, looking to identify the voice’s origin.

  “You can’t run forever,” the voice said.

  There!

  O’Dell swung his bat. It passed through the air to his right, meeting nothing.

  “My name is Molly. You heard me earlier, on the street.”

  O’Dell swung again, this time connecting with the wall.

  “You’re only going to damage your things if you do this,” Molly said.

  O’Dell shook his head, denying what his senses were telling him.

  “I was murdered a few days ago,” Molly said. “I was taken to a place called the Halfway House. It’s purgatory, a place where you pay penance for the bad things you did in life. I managed to escape, and now I’m here.”

  O’Dell breathed heavily through his nostrils, his eyes wide and filled with fear.

  “I understand this must come as a shock…” Molly said.

  “Get out of my house!” O’Dell said.

  “Not until I talk with you,” Molly said.

  “I said get out!” O’Dell said.

  “I’m sorry to invade your personal space,” Molly said. “Really, I am. But you’re going to have to listen to me if you want me to go.”

  “I’m not listening to nothing you have to say!” O’Dell said.

  There was a soft bang noise from downstairs. O’Dell could have recognized it anywhere. It was his mother.

  “Mickey?” his mother said, calling up the stairs. “Mickey, are you home?”

  O’Dell didn’t say a word. He was thinking. What was he going to do?

  “Yeah,” O’Dell called back. “I’m home. I’ll be down in a minute.”

  O’Dell’s mom came up the stairs.

  “You’ll never believe the day I had,” she said.

  O’Dell moved to the door. He leaned his bat against his desk and turned to look back at his room. His bedside table lay with two legs broken. Paper, drawings, and electronics scattered across the floor. He was never going to get it tidied up in time before his mother got there. But that wasn’t his chief concern.

  “Please,” O’Dell said out the corner of his mouth. “Don’t scare my mom.”

  “I won’t,” Molly said. “But you have to listen to me. I promise I won’t hurt you.”

  O’Dell didn’t look much relieved by that statement. He licked his lips and opened the door, keeping it closed enough to peer out from around it.

  “Hey Mom,” O’Dell said. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing,” his mother said. “Just checking in.”

  O’Dell nodded. There was something fishy going on.

  “I heard you talking to someone,” his mother said.

  “Really?” O’Dell said. “Oh. I was on the phone.”

  O’Dell’s mother nodded. She could read him like a book.

  “What’s going on in there?” she said, going up on her tiptoes to peer inside his room.

  O’Dell pulled the door closer to himself, blocking as much visibility as possible. But not enough. His mother had spotted the broken bedside table.

  “You been practicing your swing inside the house again?” she said, eyes narrowing.

  O’Dell opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

  “What’s the matter?” his mother said. “Cat got your tongue?”

  “I, uh, thought I saw a rat,” O’Dell said.

  “A rat?” his mother said. “Not another one. I’ll have to call pest control again. Honestly, sometimes I think they plant them here so they’ll get repeat business. Did you get it?”

  O’Dell shook his head. His expression was fearful, body stiff as a board.

  “Are you all right?” his mother said. “It’s just a rat. It won’t hurt you.”

  O’Dell nodded.

  “I’m about to cook dinner,” his mother said. “Anything special you want?”

  “Anything is fine,” O’Dell said.

  “It’ll be ready in ten minutes,” his mother said. “Get washed up. I’ll see you downstairs.”

  With one last glance at her son, O’Dell’s mother headed back down the stairs. O’Dell shut the door behind her.

  “She seems-” Molly said.

 
; O’Dell held up a finger for silence. He didn’t relax until his mother was downstairs.

  “She seems like a lovely woman,” Molly said.

  O’Dell sat on the edge of his bed and leaned his forehead in his hands.

  “I know this must come as quite a shock,” Molly said. “But I don’t mean you any harm.”

  “I’m not crazy,” O’Dell said.

  “No, you’re not,” Molly said.

  “I can’t hear you,” O’Dell said.

  “Then who are you talking to?” Molly said.

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” O’Dell said.

  “You can hear me,” Molly said. “I need you to help me.”

  “Why don’t you go to bother someone else?” O’Dell said. “Go find a family to spook or something.”

  “Perhaps when I retire,” Molly said. “Can you see me?”

  “No,” O’Dell said. “Listen, if my mom knows I can hear voices…”

  “She won’t hear it from me,” Molly said. “Obviously. I don’t think anyone else can hear me. Just you.”

  “Lucky me,” O’Dell said.

  “You don’t seem all that shocked that you can hear ghosts,” Molly said.

  O’Dell clenched his teeth and looked to one side, uncomfortable.

  “You’ve heard voices before, haven’t you?” Molly said.

  “No,” O’Dell said. “But my dad did. He called it a gift. But it never did him much good.”

  By the tone of his voice, Molly imagined it hadn’t been a very fun experience.

  “Look, if you don’t mind, I’d prefer if you just go away and leave me alone,” O’Dell said. “I don’t want any part of this.”

  “I’m sorry, but I need you to pass on a message for me,” Molly said.

  “Go pass it on yourself,” O’Dell said. “What do I look like to you? FedEx?”

  “I would, gladly,” Molly said. “Except no one else can hear me.”

  “Maybe they can, but they ignored you,” O’Dell said. “That’s what I should have done.”

  He snorted.

  “A gift,” he said. “What a joke that is. He made it sound so great as if it was something everybody wanted. That he had been chosen. I used to go around, pretending I could hear voices too. We became the freaks of the neighborhood.”

  “You’re lucky,” Molly said. “Not everybody can hear spirit voices.”