THURSDAY TALES: GHOST

I woke up slowly and shivered. Not again, I thought irritably.  Luke was always stealing the covers at night and then hording them with an iron grip.  Without even opening my eyes, I threw an arm behind me, trying to locate a corner so I could wrestle at least an inch or two away from him.  But there was nothing.  I really mean there was nothing.  No bed. No husband. No nothing.  My eyes flew open and I found myself staring at the ceiling.  Normally, this wouldn't really be the biggest deal in the world, but in this case, the ceiling was an inch from my face.  What in the world?  Why was I not in my bed?  And more importantly, why was I on the ceiling?

I spun myself around and looked down, sure I was going to fall at any second.  I blinked.  There I was in my bed, next to Luke, who was sharing the blankets quite nicely for once.  Maybe this was one of those dreams where you're watching yourself do things from outside of your body.

As if reading my mind, a creaky voice spoke. "You're not dreaming, dear."

I somehow managed to figure my way into a sitting position, feeling something like a floating genie, and spied a very old woman, creaking away in an equally-floating rocking chair, serenely knitting a blanket.  "Grandma... Rachel?" I asked.  Grandma Rachel had been dead for 20 years.  This was most definitely a dream, no doubt brought on by all the cold medicine I had taken the night before.

"Oh no, dear.  It isn't a dream," she insisted.

"Would you stop doing that? Of course it's a dream.  How could I be up here?  And how could you be here?  You're dead!"

Grandma Rachel laughed, her needles clicking away.  "Well, of course I am, Sarah. How else could I float up here like a ghost?  And so are you."

I stared at her. "Me? I can't be dead.  I can see myself right down there!"

"And your chest isn't moving so much now, is it?"  She pointed a knitting needle at me.  "You really should check the interactions on your drugs, Sarah.  Anyway, it doesn't matter now.  What's done is done.  Read the letter from Grandpa Bill, it explains.. well, some of it."

I looked around me.  "Letter?"

Grandma Rachel looked irritable.  "Yes, the letter that's floating right next--  Oh.  Well, I always forget this part."  She snapped her fingers, and a letter appeared on my lap.  "That one."

I picked it up and opened it carefully.

"Dearest Sarah," I read. "If you are reading this, it means you're dead. Sorry about that.  I hope it was painless.  But now you're a ghost, and can carry on the family legacy.  You'll be expected at the mansion in Lexington at 2am sharp tomorrow night.  Will explain the rest then. Love, Grandpa"