Ghost by Tala Bar

Michael · Posted: Fri May 15, 2009 9:25 pm Post subject: Ghost by Tala Bar

Ghost
by Tala Bar

I

"So," said Ofara the Witch, "you want your wife back?" She was a middle-aged woman wearing dark clothes, with no sign of gray in her black hair. Her thin-lipped mouth was pinched with disapproval as she looked at her visitor, and her pitch black eyes pierced the man to the heart.

"Yes," he replied, defiantly, "I want her back." Will Kord was a rough-looking man who had made his money in some shady deals, which enabled him to buy one of the best apartments in the block.

"You loved her that much?" The Witch asked, gazing at him with her unfathomable eyes. There were not many signs of a loving nature about him.

"Loved her?" he sounded scornful. "I need her, can't get along since she died."

"In you bed?"

"Nah—she wasn't much good there, and anyway, I've got me a new friend who is much better than my wife had ever been."

"What, then? Was she a good housekeeper, or did she cook meals for you to remember?" She was leading him on, knowing very well the type of person he was.

"She was no good at all, I was sorry as soon as I married her. I've got me a proper housekeeper now, my flat is clean and I have a good meal every day. No, that's not it." He hesitated, for the first time since he came to her place, looking around and avoiding her eyes.

The Witch’s apartment was situated on a floor below the man’s, where they were a little less spacious, with fewer advantages. They had met once or twice in the elevator, and he had seen the sign advertising her occupation down on the street. Will Kord had no concept about Witches, but in his limited imagination he thought Ofara could help him in his trouble.

However, as soon as he had come into her flat, he disliked it immensely. It was very different from his own highly colorful place in furnishing and arrangement, with ruling shades of black and gray and daylight almost hidden behind heavy curtains. A flickering silver glow emanating from a few small lamps hanging here and there on the walls gave the place an eerie atmosphere, which he felt oppressive and inhibiting. In contrast to his own highly decorated apartment, he saw no ornaments here at all.

After some consideration, the Witch spoke again, "Tell me," she said, her voice thin and dry, "how did your wife die?"

"Er…" he uttered, "She fell off the roof."

"What was she doing on the roof?"

"We used to go up there, playing games, you know… She was not careful, and before I knew it, she was over the banister and down in the street… It was awful!" He covered his face, so the Witch could not see his expression.

"What did the police say?"

"They cleared me completely, it was not my fault at all! She was like that, careless, and I'd often warned her…"

"All right, it’s not my business... But now you desperately want her back, although she was not much good as a wife. Why, then?"

"It's the baby! It won't stop crying since she died! I did everything—tried a series of nannies, asked the doctors—no one can tell me what to do, and it gets on my nerves!"

"And your wife—was she good with the baby?"

"It's the only thing she was good at! It was the only thing she was interested in—as soon as it was born, she neglected everything else, even those things she had never been good at! The house, the cooking, me above all! There was no taking her away from the baby, and now she is gone, there’s no peace and quiet from it at all!"

"It’s still an ‘it’ for you, is it?" Ofara looked sharply at the man, who returned her gaze without understanding. "Never mind..."

"Will you do it then?" he asked, eagerly. "Can you really bring her back to look after it, take it off my hands?"

"I can try, but you'll have to help me with the ritual."

"Ritual?"

"Of course, such things cannot happen by themselves, we have to help them along."

II

The man waited for the Witch to take the things she needed for her performance, then they walked up to his apartment. The housekeeper was there, hovering, and the baby was crying on the arms of the current nanny.

"Send them away," Ofara commanded, "we can’t have any interference."

"But what about the baby? Won’t its crying disturb the ritual?"

"Not at all. Do it!"

When they were left on their own in the flat, she shuttered the windows and produced some candles, lit and arranged them on the floor in some mysterious order, then shut off all the lights. In the silence that fell, the crying of the baby in his crib sounded stronger than ever. The Witch signed the man to take it in his arms, but then its crying turned to screaming, and she took it over herself. Its cry softened, turning into a low whimpering, and Ofara felt she had no choice but to do the ritual while carrying it on her arms.

"What's the baby's name?" she asked softly, as she rocked it on her arms, humming tunelessly.

"Arial, it's a girl," the man said, throwing it an alienated look.

"Hush, Ariel, hush!" Ofara murmured, beginning to meander among the candles, signing the man to follow her around. She then started chanting a monotonous, mesmerizing tune, as a heavily scented smoke rose from the candles; all these brought on him some dizziness, and he nodded on his feet. Still, the Witch continued her walking and chanting, and he followed her in a daze, until she stopped and said, "Now we go on the roof."

"On the roof?" he demanded, shaking his head vigorously as if to clear it. "Why?"

"That’s the place from which she departed, and that’s where she is going to reappear. Come!" Still holding the baby in her arms, the Witch left the flat and the man came after her, going toward the stairs and climbing on to the roof.

"What time did she fall?" the Witch asked the man when they reached the roof, looking over the banister toward the setting sun. It was partially hidden behind clouds that were splashed with red and gold.

"It was about this time of day," he said, sounding as if he was choking, and she knew he was afraid. "But the sky was overcast that day, much more gray than red or gold."

"Don’t worry, it will be like that in a moment. Then your wife will appear." As she spoke, a mass of clouds appeared in the west, covering the sun and hiding the splash of color. Gloom fell over the world, and the Witch turned to the man and said, "Is that how it was?"

As he nodded, shaking from head to foot, a soft breeze awakened, and light mist began to spread over the roof. The whole world seemed to have vanished, and even the child fell quiet, for the first time since her mother died. Then the Witch said softly, "Here she comes."

She was still facing the banister, and the man turned to look where she was looking. His heart was racing and his eyes opened wide as the mist took form before them, rising from nowhere below. It became the shape of a woman, and Will Kord saw that it looked like his dead wife, who stood before him plump and comfortable as she used to look in her life.

"Gina!" he murmured softly, his voice shaking. But Gina paid no attention to her husband.

"Ariel, Honey," she cried in a sonorous voice and floated toward the Witch, stretching her transparent arms. The child seemed to float from Ofara into the arms of Gina's, who began rocking her and singing to her softly. For the first time since her mother died the man heard the baby crooning in return, a contented smile hovering over her lips. His wife then turned, moving back to where she had come from.

"Hey!" cried the man, "where are you going, Gina? You’re supposed to come back home with me, to take care of your child!"

But the woman paid no attention to him or his words, moving determinedly toward the roof's banister.

"Stop! Stop, I tell you! Stop!" He cried out, rushing after the ghost of his wife who carried his child away from him. For a minute, she hovered over the banister and he, in his rush, could not stop himself. He jumped at her, flying over the banister and into the empty space beyond it, then falling down into the abyss, crushing ten floors below and onto the hard pavement.

The Witch stayed alone on the roof, as if waiting for something else to happen. After a while, the man’s spirit appeared, all dark and sullen. "How did you know?" he demanded. "How did you know I pushed her over the banister, deliberately?"

"She came and told me," Ofara answered, calmly, "soon after she died. She wanted her child with her, and we were just waiting for the right moment for her to come and get it, and repay you for your wicked action," said the Witch.

The End

Story Copyright © by Tala Bar. All rights reserved.

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