‘Not exactly. Not like the popular concept of ghosts. More like the way I saw my friend Robert, kind of an action replay.’
‘All right,’ said Frank. ‘Are we ready to do this?’
They sat in silence for nearly five minutes while Nevile clasped his hands together and seemed to be focusing very far away. Lynn kept twisting the end of the green silk scarf that she was wearing as a belt, while Margot sat in the lotus position with her head tilted back, breathing as if she had taken lessons in Zen meditation. Frank had been hopeful about this séance to begin with, but now that Nevile was actually here, he found himself growing increasingly skeptical, and wondering what Margot’s reaction would be if nothing happened.
He stared at Danny’s laughing face in the photograph and tried to remember what he was like when he was happy and alive, but the photograph was blotted out by the picture in his mind’s eye of Danny sitting in the back seat of his car, staring at him, dead.
Nevile suddenly sat up straight and cleared his throat. ‘Kathy . . . your mother’s looking for you. Can you hear me, Kathy?’
Lynn couldn’t stop herself from letting out a whimper, and covered her mouth with her hand.
‘Kathy . . . do you know where you are? Do you know what happened to you?’
There was a long pause, and then Nevile nodded, and nodded again, one finger lifted close to his ear as if he were listening to somebody.
‘Kathy, your mother’s here and she wants to talk to you. Your mother wants you to know that she loves you and misses you and that you’re not forgotten.’
‘Can you hear her?’ said Lynn. ‘Is that Kathy? Can you really hear her?’
‘She’s close,’ Nevile reassured her. ‘Please try to be patient.’
He sat in silence for another two or three minutes, and then he said, ‘Kathy? Are you going to talk to your mother, sweetheart? Your mother would really like to know that you’re here.’
Again he looked as if he were listening. Frank couldn’t help thinking, I hope this isn’t starting to look like a scam. Anybody can pretend that they’re talking to a spirit. Even I could do it. And so far we haven’t seen any evidence at all that he’s really talking to anyone at all.
‘What did you say, Kathy?’ said Nevile. ‘You don’t know what happened? There was an accident, sweetheart, that’s what happened. You and some of your friends got hurt. You passed over to the place where people go when they die.’
He listened some more, and then he said to Lynn, ‘She doesn’t really understand. She wants to know why she can’t come back.’
Lynn’s eyes were filled with tears. ‘Tell her I love her. Please, tell her I’ll always love her.’
Frank said, ‘You’re sure that it’s Kathy you’re talking to? I mean, I’m not being critical or anything, but there must be thousands of spirits out there – how do you get to talk to the one you want?’
‘Oh, spirits aren’t difficult to find. Kathy’s spirit is very close to her mother, just like Danny’s is close to you and Margot. Spirits never leave the ones they love. They never leave the ones they hate, either. It works both ways.’
There was yet another pause, then Nevile nodded and said, ‘Yes,’ twice. He turned to Lynn and said, ‘Kathy says that she loves you too and she can’t wait to come home.’
‘Is it really her?’ asked Lynn. ‘You’re not telling me this just to make me feel better? Please tell me it’s really her.’
‘Kathy,’ said Nevile, ‘your mother wants to hear your voice. Do you think that you can talk to your mother?’
Nothing. It was now almost three P.M. and Frank was seriously beginning to wish that he hadn’t invited Nevile over. If Margot can find it in her heart to forgive me, then I can probably forgive myself too, given time, and I don’t need to hear from some smooth-talking British psychic that Danny doesn’t bear me any ill-will, either, he thought.
‘Kathy,’ said Nevile, in a coaxing voice. ‘Come on now, sweetheart, talk to your mother.’
Again, nothing. Lynn had stopped crying now and glanced at Frank as if she, too, was having her doubts.
But then Nevile took hold of Lynn’s hand and said, ‘She thinks it was your fault.’
‘What was my fault?’
‘You didn’t want her to go to dance class, so you sent her to this other place.’
Lynn slowly opened her mouth. ‘How did you know that? How do you know about the dance class?’
‘She also says you punished her for being rude about Gene’s nose.’
‘Oh my God.’
‘She says she’s sorry and can she come back now.’
‘Oh, no. Oh my God. Oh, no. My baby!’ Lynn was biting her knuckles and the tears were streaming down her cheeks.
Nevile gripped her hand very tight. ‘She’s here, Lynn. Tell her you love her. Tell her what happened was an accident, it wasn’t her fault.’
Lynn took a deep, wrenching breath, and cried out, ‘Kathy, I didn’t . . .’ But she was too choked up to say any more. Margot put her arm around her and held her tight, while Nevile continued to grip her hand and also to stare at her, as if he were willing her to hear what he could hear.
He can hear her, thought Frank. He must be able to hear her. He half rose in his chair, reaching out for Margot, and it was then that he glimpsed something out of the corner of his eye – a blur, a movement – and he turned toward the patio windows. He felt his scalp tingle and tighten and his hairs stood on end, one by one, all frizzling out slowly in a fuzzy electric halo that came down around his ears.
Standing on the patio was Danny, in his school clothes, with his X-Men bag on his shoulder. He was deathly white, and he was staring in the same expressionless way as he was when Frank had found him dead in the back of the car. His image blurred and flickered, and for a split second it disappeared altogether, but then it came back again, and it was still staring at him.
Nevile turned around, too. ‘Jesus!’ he cried.
Margot let out a sound that would have been a scream if she had had any air in her lungs. Instead it was a high, wavering gasp.
‘It’s Danny,’ Frank heard himself saying, as if he were somebody else.
‘Stay still,’ Nevile warned him. ‘Don’t go any nearer. He’s shocked enough already, we don’t want to scare him.’
‘But we have to let him in,’ begged Margot.
‘It’s his spirit, Margot. It’s his resonance. It’s not his physical self. If he wanted to come inside, he could, and he would.’
‘Danny,’ Margot pleaded. ‘Danny, can you talk to me? Oh, Danny, I love you so much!’
Danny continued to stare, but he didn’t speak. Frank said, ‘Danny, can you hear me? I didn’t know that you were hurt. If only I’d known . . .’
‘Your mom and dad love you, Danny,’ put in Nevile. ‘Why don’t you tell them that you love them, too?’
Almost a minute went past with Danny’s image staring at them, unmoving.
‘Danny,’ said Nevile, ‘do you understand what’s happened to you? Do you know where you are?’
It was then that they heard a thin, muffled voice, which seemed closer than the image on the patio. ‘He didn’t care.’
‘Who didn’t care?’
‘My dad. I was dying and he didn’t care.’
‘Danny,’ said Frank, ‘I swear to God that I didn’t know you were hurt so bad. I swear it.’
‘I was dying and I called you and I called you but you didn’t hear me and you didn’t come back.’
‘Danny . . .’ Frank started, but it was all he could do not to choke.
‘You want me to forgive you but you didn’t care and I will never forgive you, ever. I hope you see my dead face every day until you die, and when you die I hope you go to hell.’