Halloween Is For Lovers, page 11
"Prophecy?" Jerry stuttered, scared.
Crain made a fist. "Not just a Kingdom, a growing empire. Death will reign supreme."
A bolt of black lightning shot across the horizon and Crain laughed with evil glee.
Reunited
Hugh opened the door to Lily's room but quickly shut it. He recomposed himself in the hallway, trying to shake the green glop off his pants and brush the spiders out of his ears. He hunched his shoulders up to support his head in a somewhat upright and centered position and then ran his fingers through his hair, which only served to add height and structure to the brown stuff clinging to it. He reached out and knocked on the door.
There was no answer. He knocked again, this time pressing his ear to the satin embroidered "Bride" heart hanging from the door. He listened for Lily to respond. There was nothing but silence. Biting his lower lip, he opened the door and peeked in. "Hello, is anybody here?"
The room looked empty, so he quietly walked in. "Hello? Lily?"
A voluminous wedding dress hung from a wardrobe rack, with the veil carefully perched on an armature above. Pins tented the train to the carpet. Hugh, tangled and dark, stood in stark contrast to the radiant shimmer of the invisible bride.
He reached out with his dirty, dehydrated hand and stroked the soft veil.
Suddenly the high-pitched screech of a woman shattered the room, and he turned to see a maid standing in the doorway. Hugh held his hands out in a calming gesture. "Don't be scared, I won't hurt you."
The maid kicked aside her vacuum and stormed across the room to confront Hugh. Face-to-face with him, she studied every detail of his appearance, her mouth agape. Then she spoke. "That costume rules! And the makeup is ... I don't have words to describe it, a pro did this, this is like Wayne Toth, Drag Me To Hell good.” She reached out and touched the brown moss on his sleeve. "How did you make that? It's still wet. Is there a new spirit gum on the market? And the base color, the skin looks so dead and creepy, is that Colorset powder airbrushed on or ..." She took a step back. "I'm sorry, I'm just a huge horror makeup geek. I got my MFA in costume design and makeup at Emerson. Lot of good that did me." She swooped back in for a closer look and Hugh took a step back. "Oh my God, are those spiders moving?" Looking closer, "Where are the batteries? Those must cost a fortune."
"Actually, I'm a friend of the bride. Do you know where she is?"
"They're all up at the church, rehearsing. Seriously, who did this makeup? I gotta take a pic." She pulled out her camera phone.
Hugh backed toward the door. "I'm in a real hurry. Where's the church?"
"Out the front gate and left. Hold on, please let me get a couple pics." She aimed the phone but squinted at the screen. "What's going on? It's not working, you're not showing up." She punched her thumb into the keypad, and the camera made several clicks. “Like you’re invisible or some—“
"I really have to go." Hugh lurched out of the room and down the hall.
The maid looked at the pictures on her phone, showing just an empty room with a strange flare of light at the center of it. She rubbed the tiny lens and muttered, "This thing must be broken."
The small chapel on the hill was surrounded by parked luxury sedans. A few of the luxury SUVs were parked haphazardly in the grass between the church and the cemetery. Their owners would jump at any chance to show off the all-terrain abilities of their vehicles.
Inside, the wedding party stood in loose formation at the altar. The bridesmaids fidgeted with makeup and hair while the groomsmen tapped away on smartphones. Reverend John "Lucky" Fanciollo wore a fanciful vest with hundreds of colors and an elaborate syringa tree on the back quilted out of electric green and gold chiffon. He curled his toes in his bedazzled purple Crocs and squinted as he read from his handwritten notes, "Let no one wreck asunder, blah, blah, blah, so mote it be, blah, blah, blah, shining enlightenment of harmony forever cleaving the essence of joyous unity, blah, blah, blah ..." He shuffled a few pages, confused. "Oh wait, here it is ... The continuous circle of soul essence." He looked at Lily and then at Hugh, and they both shrugged their shoulders. "The ring," he prompted.
Steve looked to the best man. "Dude, you’re on."
The best man also shrugged. "What? I thought there was going to be a kid with a pillow or something."
Steve shook his head. "Did you not read the e-mail I sent you?"
The best man pulled out his BlackBerry. "When did you send it?"
Gilda snapped, "Are you kidding me? How many times did I say we should have had a rehearsal for the rehearsal. Am I the only one up here who gives a crap's ass about this being a perfectly flawless wedding?"
The Reverend tried to calm her down. "Now, I know weddings can be stressful. It's best to focus on the joyful parts, the gathering of the family tribes in peace, the confluence of communal waters ..."
Gilda stepped into him, with a pointed finger jabbed into his vest and a terse whisper, "It's her special day."
Frightened, Lucky backed down and tried to appease her. "Alright, listen up, people, let's try to get this right."
Gilda shot him a threatening look. He stuttered, "Let's not try, let’s do. Let's get this absolutely right and perfect."
Outside, Hugh scrambled up a ledge and peered through a stained glass window into the church. Through the rose-colored glass of John the Baptist’s sleeve he saw ripples of Lily, perfect and sweet, an elegant flower in a vase of a dress placed on the steps of the altar. It was worth it, coming back to see her. He smiled, and for the first time in a long time he forgot about everything. He was just him, looking at the girl he loved, and nothing else mattered.
Inside, Gilda was having words with the best man, trying to charm him and direct him at the same time. "I realize your career is very important and I'm absolutely fascinated by it and of course by you, but could you do me a huge favor and play along with this rehearsal thing, you know, put away the phone and pay attention? I'd really appreciate it and who knows, maybe I'll find some way to return the favor." She winked at him.
Steve was glad-handing his mother-in-law-to-be with stories of his attempt to barefoot water-ski from Saint Martin to Bermuda.
Lily stood at the altar, feeling alone. She looked around, realizing that she had set this day in motion and wasn't brave enough to go up against its momentum. She felt she didn't have the courage to live the life she wanted, but it was sadder than that. She wasn't lacking the courage, she was lacking the will.
She apathetically looked around the church and noticed a set of eyes peeping through a stained glass window. When she squinted to see who it was, the head ducked down. She walked toward the window and the head briefly popped up, then down. She heard someone outside tumble onto the ground, and then, through the cream-colored glass of St. Peter’s robe, she saw someone spastically flee into the cemetery.
Lily walked out of the church and into the dark of night, leaving behind her the colorful glow coming out of the church windows and making her way under the steel blue light of the moon. Nothing else was moving. Maybe it was kids, she thought. She turned to go back inside, but something caught her eye. A heap of dirty, tattered rags someone had piled behind a gravestone. She walked toward it, and the heap came to life. It sprung and jived deeper into the cemetery.
She cautiously followed. "Hello? Who is it?"
Hugh lurched deeper into the graveyard. He kept running long enough to remember why he had come. He stopped and hid behind a large gravestone. A small clearing a few yards in front of the stone was bathed in moonlight, and Lily stopped there. "Hello? Anybody there?"
"Don't be afraid. I promise I won't hurt you." Hugh projected his voice calmly.
"Won't hurt me? Why would you hurt me? Now I'm afraid." She gathered her arms to her chest and began to retreat.
"No, seriously, don't go. You know me ... I know you ... we know each other."
"You're creeping me out." She continued her hasty retreat.
"Lily," he pleaded.
She stopped, not looking back.
He calmly walked toward her with his arms at his side, palms facing her. He desperately wanted to grab her, hold her, squeeze her.
"Don't. Don't come near me." She turned and looked him in the eyes. She knew right away it was him. She wasn't shocked, she was expecting something like this. She had played this scene over and over in her head, sitting on that overstuffed transitional couch, staring out that duplex window. Somehow he would come back, somehow she would see him again.
Hugh stood frozen, his hands slightly raised in a surrender position. "Don't freak out, it's ... I'm not ... I'm ..."
She took a step closer and studied him, his hands, his long fingers and deep nail beds. The slender nose. She saw past the tatters and the slime, the broken neck and pale skin.
Eyes are so small. In terms of surface area on the human body, the eyes make up less than one percent. A pinky fingernail is bigger than an iris. But his eyes were everything. She looked into them, gray flecks and all. She knew, however impossible, it was him.
She took a deep breath and lowered her eyes to the ground.
Hugh took a half step toward her, arms spread for an embrace. She stopped him with an arm outstretched. "No, don't. Just don't." She looked him in the eyes again, took a deep breath, and with a tremor of reality she let out a bloodcurdling shriek.
She escaped into the cemetery, running frantically. Hugh chased, jerking and weaving among the gravestones. The quicker he chased, the faster she ran. He stopped and called out to her, "Lil, stop. I'm sorry."
She stopped. With her back to him, she shook her head. "It's not really you."
Hands at his side, palms patting toward the ground, he tried to calm her down. "I know this is crazy."
She spun around, her fingers crossed in front of her face, "Back, demon, back!”
Hugh surrendered, putting his hands up. "Are you asking me to back up? I'll back up, just please don't run away, I ..."
Lily slapped her cheeks and shook her head. "It seems so real. Oh my God I'm freaking out." She bent over and put her head between her knees and heaved coarse breaths.
He took a step toward her, trying to help. "Are you okay?"
"Back! Back, demon!" Still bent over, she warded him off.
He retreated a half step. "This was a bad idea. I'm sorry, Lil. I'll go. I just wanted to, you know, say I'm sorry, sorry for everything, and ..."
She straightened up and brushed the hair from her bewildered eyes. She did a quick breathing exercise, circling her hands and whispering something in Hindi. Then she said, "Okay, Lil, you're having a serious psychic break here. Stress of the wedding, the pills, all the stuff I haven't dealt with, the stuff I packed away deep down in my subconscious basement. Plus, I think I'm dehydrated." She pinched the skin on her arm.
"Listen, Lil—"
She snapped back at him with a spiked finger. "No, uh-uh. You. Quiet."
Hugh shrunk another half step away and Lily composed herself. With one deep breath she re-centered and settled down. But then she shook her head. "Shit, am I already preggers?" She felt her stomach. "No, that's impossible. It's the dieting. All that green tea, I'm potassium deficient. Gilda has almonds." With a deep breath she turned to Hugh. "Okay. You. I'm just going to listen to what you have to say. I guess on some bizarre subconscious level I need to hear it. Then I'm going to package this whole crazy cemetery experience up in a tight little bundle and tuck it away until after the wedding ... and the honeymoon ... and after all the thank-you cards go out. Then I'll schedule some time with my therapist friend and have her slowly guide me through unpacking this horrible, horrible break in reality."
"I'm sorry, Lil, I never meant to hurt you."
She nodded. "Actually this makes a lot of sense. Imagining the ghost of the guy that stood me up at my last wedding the night before this wedding. That has to be a healthy and normal reaction to the amount of stress I've been under. That's totally healthy, I'm not sick, I just didn't deal with this as completely as I thought I did. You're like all the residual crap that ..." She went back to her yoga breathing. "I'm just going to roll with this."
"Lil, I'm so, so sorry, I made a huge mistake, I was an idiot, I ..."
"You motherfucker! I loved you and you ..." She fought back the tears. "No, this is good, this is stuff I need to hear myself say. I've been hung up on this for too long."
"You're right. I'm so sorry, Lil ..."
"Is that all you're going to do? Stand there and say you’re sorry? You hurt me, you hurt me really bad. You tore my heart out and stamped on it. I cried for a year after you died. I never stopped crying ... I loved you so ..." She stamped her heel into the ground three times and wiped away a tear. "I had to start taking a special multivitamin because I was crying out all the minerals in my tear glands."
She held her hands to her cheeks. "If this makes my rosacea act up I will never forgive you."
"I got cold feet on our wedding day, but I realized what a mistake I had made and I turned around. I was heading back to the church, I was driving so fast to get back to you, I lost control of the car ... I just wanted you to know that ... I'm really, really sorry."
She took a deep breath. "Okay ... I accept that. I guess I needed to hear that from you or your spirit or whatever this apparition of you represents. Now I can go forward with my life, get this wedding out of the way, you know, long comfortable life with my new husband, doing a lot of boating or whatever." She exhaled and relaxed. "There, I think I'm over it. I'm going to take some vitamins, drink a large bottle of water, two large bottles of water, maybe a Wild Turkey chaser, and I'm going to try and put the happy glowing bride thing back together." She waved her hand in the air. "Can you dissolve or fly away or something, just so I can be sure I'm imagining all this?"
He raised his shoulders. "Sorry, I can't. I wish I could. I don't really have any special powers."
"This is so bizarre. I feel like it's you, like you're really here, like I could touch you. But you have to go. For what's left of my mental health you need to disappear, poof, dissolve."
"I'm sorry, Lil, it doesn't work that way."
"What if I turn around and then you go and hide. Then when I turn back around you'll be out of sight and I'll just imagine that you evaporated up into the sky or something."
"Okay." Hugh nodded.
She turned her back to him. He took a moment and looked at her, tried to capture in his mind a permanent picture of her graceful silhouette. At that moment he realized he had to go. A sudden sinking feeling came over him.
She doesn't love me anymore. I have to go back to the Kingdom, I have to go back to being dead.
He deflated. There was so much more he wanted to tell her. To share with her. This was not how he wanted it to end.
"I'm getting ready to turn around now."
He shrunk behind a gravestone. Sitting in the dirt, he pulled his knees into his chest and hugged them tight.
Lily took a deep breath. "I'm turning around, please be gone."
She turned around and he wasn't there. She nodded and felt a little bit lighter, like she had finally unloaded something that had been wearing her down. But then she spotted Hugh's wedding shoe sticking out from behind a gravestone. "I can see your shoe."
He quickly tucked it in. "Oops, sorry."
She stared at the gravestone, wondering what it all meant. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
Please, please, please let me go.
She opened her eyes and saw only the gravestone. She tried to imagine that it was all a dream.
"Are you eff-ing kidding me!" Gilda marched between the headstones, angry. "I've been looking everywhere for you." She grabbed Lily by the elbow and dragged her back toward the church. "Stop being so selfish. This isn't just about you, Lil. I need this. I need to believe that a woman in her early thirties can still find a man who ticks all the boxes. A man without excess baggage." She mumbled and shook her head as she pulled Lily up the church stairs, “Brats from a previous marriage are not bonus kids."
Lily stopped on the top step and looked back out on the graveyard below. She didn't want to, she tried to imagine her eyes were playing tricks on her, but she could still see Hugh's silhouette slumped behind the gravestone.
She sighed with a frown, but before she had a moment to think, Gilda roughly tugged her back into the church. "You're doing this, Lil. There's no turning back now. It's your special eff-ing day, deal with it!"
Reclined in a Graveyard
Hugh slowly walked through the graveyard with his hands in his pockets. With his fingers, he traced the serrated edges of the bottle cap Ana had given him. Things hadn't gone like he'd planned. There was no loving embrace, no magic kiss that brought him back to life. Sprinting through the gate into the Land of the Living, he was so sure that love would save him. The night was passing him by and he sulked between the gravestones, farther from Lily and life than he had ever felt before.
He stopped and looked up at the last few dead leaves that clung to the trees. They'd eventually let go, fall to the ground and slowly rot, looking back up at the branches where they spent their best days fanned out in the sun, swayed by a gentle breeze.
Up ahead, across from Hugh’s grave, Morton reclined on the ground, propped against another tombstone. He took a sip from his bottle of peppermint schnapps. With his free hand he dug around in the dirt, unearthing pebbles and acorns to lob at Hugh's gravestone.
As Hugh walked up, Morton pushed the tombstone back, shifting it to a more comfortable angle.
"You know, they hate that."
"What?" Morton pushed the stone back even farther and wriggled into a comfy recline.
"The dead, they hate it when you disrespect their graves."
"Really? But I sort of knew this guy." Morton turned and looked at the name on the stone he was using for a backrest. "Good ole Lou Fuller." He turned back around and got comfortable. "Good guy, great guy, the best ... If it's the Lou Fuller I'm thinking of."
