Michael watched me with his arms crossed. “Well, the good news is that I apparently know how to cook. Maybe that will help us.”
“Yep, you’re a regular Emeril Lagasse. Bacon a la bacon, with bacon garnish.” I smirked when he scowled at me. We’d known each other for less than a day and we were already arguing. That had to be some kind of record for me.
“So I was thinking,” I continued, biting into the first strip. “If you’re a poltergeist, shouldn’t you be able to change between being solid and intangible?”
“I tried that out last night. I’m not very good at it. It sort of…comes and goes,” he admitted, staring at his outstretched hand as if it would change. Nothing happened. Poor sap. “So you’ve really never met something like me before?”
I shook my head. Michael scratched his head. “That’s just…weird. I wonder why I’m not a regular ghost…or why I didn’t just go to Heaven or Hell.”
“I don’t know either. I’ll ask Gabriel about it the next time I see him.” I moved to the kitchen table with the coffee and bacon, scooping up my notepad to review what I’d written last night.
Michael followed, sitting opposite of me. “Who’s Gabriel?”
“The archangel? God’s Messenger? Doesn’t anyone read the Bible any more?”
“I had to make sure. What’s he want with you? Do you two have a—wait for it—heavenly relationship?”
I rolled my eyes again. “He keeps track of all the souls I assist. I can’t exactly just call on him. He’s always in different parts of the world helping people.”
“Oh, I get it. You help ghosts find their final wishes so they can pass on to Heaven or Hell.”
“Exactly.”
“Why? Did you just fall into this job, or was it bestowed on you by a higher power?” His tone was teasing, but already I began to feel uncomfortable with where the conversation was heading.
I kept my eyes on the paper and my voice as mild as possible. “We really should get going. I’ve got a long day ahead of me if you’re gonna keep sticking around.”
I stood and drained my mug, tossing it in the sink before heading back to my room. I threw on normal street clothes: purple t-shirt, black jeans, tennis shoes, and my trusty grey duster. The key to my existence was lying low and hoping nobody noticed me whispering to no one they could see. It truly was a wretched sort of life, but I had a price to pay and this was part of it.
When I came back out, Michael was waiting. “You’re very trusting, you know. How do you know I’m not some sort of wandering murderous spirit?”
“Because they don’t live around here. I’ve only seen an evil spirit once.”
Michael’s eyes widened as he walked towards the door with me. “What was that like?”
I opened the door, not meeting his gaze. “Don’t ask. It’ll give you nightmares.”
“I don’t dream.”
“Be grateful for that.”
He shut the door for me, arching an eyebrow. “You’re just a ray of sunshine, huh?”
“I’m glad you finally noticed.” I locked the door and then we started down the hallway. A couple of my neighbors walked up, waving briefly to me and walking straight towards Michael. He had to dodge behind me to keep from bumping one of them.
He shook his head, stuffing both hands in his pockets. “Am I ever gonna get used to this?”
“With any luck, you won’t have to because we’ll find out how you died and you can cross over,” I replied, grabbing the Bluetooth I kept in my duster for this exact purpose and attaching it to my right ear. Otherwise, people saw me talking to myself and would think I was nuts. We made it to the sidewalk now where people were brushing past so Michael fell in line directly behind me to keep from hitting them. I couldn’t feel his presence behind me because he had no body heat. The notion raised the hairs on the nape of my neck. Better not let him know it creeped me out. He might use it against me.
“And then what’ll happen? Who determines whether I go to Heaven or Hell?” Michael asked. We reached my bus stop in a minute or so. Two people sat on the bench while Michael and I stood next to the sign.
I tilted my face towards him out of habit. “Gabriel told me that you go before the Father and Son. They weigh your life based on what you accomplished. It’s not quite as black and white as in the Good Book.”
“That’s a relief. I’m getting the feeling I wasn’t a very good little boy during my life.” His expression relaxed. I made a mental note about his more serious behavior. It could be that he was starting to regain more of his personality traits. That would become helpful later on. Still, I smiled to keep him from worrying about my silence.
“What? Did the skirt flipping tip you off?”
He smirked. “Why? Jealous?”
“You wish.”
“For all you know, I do. Maybe my final wish is to follow you around for all eternity.” He leaned down to my height with a smug look on his face.