Ghost Story Challenge: "The Ghost of the Drain"-- Anne Leskey

The Ghost of the Drain

By Anne Leskey

I had always mistrusted the bathtub drain. Of course, the bathtub in general had earned my dislike, but the drain was especially troublesome. It wasn’t that it was noticeably so, indeed, my mother had practically been overcome with delight when she saw the oval tub, with its shallow edge and clawed feet. But it had always given me a slight feeling of unease just to see it. 

Of course, we had a shower, but it was a terribly finicky one, and so the dull, light green bathtub had to be employed once in awhile. 

The rest of my family thought I was ridiculous to mind it so. Mother had asked, tearfully, how anyone could notlike that precious silver drain? Ethelda and Julius had informed me that it was a perfectly normal tub, and I was very strange. Julius more then Ethelda, for Ethe was a very understanding sort, even when she didn’t understand. 

This particular evening it was the day before Mom and Dad’s anniversary, which was, unfortunately, on Halloween. We were going to have a huge crowd of relatives, and lots of food and we had to wear fancy party clothes. Mom loved celebrations, and Dad was indifferent to them.

We were, to all appearances, a fairly normal family. My father worked as a math teacher at a nearby high-school, and my mom was employed at an even closer supermarket. Dad loved math, I mean, he really lovedit. He also liked bright colored ties, and very shiny shoes. 

Mom liked people, dresses, and shopping. She was very concerned about us children, and we had a good system. I was the oldest of the three, at thirteen, but Ethelda followed being eleven, while Julius was nine years old. We all went to a private school, of sorts, run by Savannah Gray and her friends. 

Golden haired, gray eyed Ethelda was a genius, really. At school, she would compose deadly dull essays, which were so hopelessly correct that she was given a hundred percent unfailingly. And then when she left, Savannah or one of the others would find totally brilliant notes showing how they had made a mistake in the schooling, written in such a way as to not let them punish her without looking foolish. 

Julius, who had red hair, blue eyes, and freckles, was mischief personified. He liked explosions, loud noises (if he created them), and cheesecake. 

Then there was me…I was such a mixture of odd things it was hard to tell what I was, but I liked coffee, ginger ale, and books, and I did not like to see my reflection in the mirror if I had to go past it in the dark.

“Zelia,” Mom bustled into the bedroom which Ethelda and I shared, “Zelia Amaryllis Raven, you go take your bath and take it now! You’ve got to get to bed early, there are some last minute arrangements for the party.”

She paused in her quick talking to take a breath, and push back the ashy blond hair which I had inherited. Mom got exhausted bustling around for parties and things, but she reveled in them hugely. 

“Oh, Ethe,” continued Mom, now talking energetically to my sister, “Make sure you feed Beryl and    Dulcie, will you? And do make sure they’re in their room tomorrow. My sisters and cousins and everything, you know how loud they’ll get, and bringing all those horrid children!” Mom beamed at the thought of it. 

Beryl was our Papillon dog, she was white and ginger colored, not ginger as in red, but ginger as in the spice. Dulcie was our orange and white Maine Coon cat. They got along splendidly, which was fortunate, and Mom spanked Julius extremely hard the first time he tried to tease them, which was also fortunate. 

I gathered up my pajamas, which had sequins on the ruffly hems, and marched resolutely towards the tub. I set my smart phone on top of the washing machine, which wasn’t running, so my phone wouldn’t fall off, and turned on very loud Scottish war songs, for which I had a particular fondness. 

Then I wandered over to the bathtub, and stood as still as a statue, except for my violently twitching eyelid. A large, huge even, tarantula was calmly climbing out of our bathtub. Out of the drain, no less. I would have screamed, but I was too frightened to do so. 

It seemed a little odd though, it seemed to be sort of wavy around the edges, and then suddenly it vanished. This time I did let out a frightened squeak.

After this, there was absolutely no wayI was going to trust that bathtub. I raninto the shower, fiercely slammed down the knob, and ice cold water splashed out. I went to bed with a feeling of fright. I had often wondered why, in stories, children didn’t tell their parents about the odd things that happened to them. Now I understood. Mom and Dad would think I had gone crazy. 

Dad would say that I needed a visit to the doctor, and doctors would just send me through a bunch of tests. I crawled anxiously into my bed, and managed a weak smile as Dulcie jumped onto my bed, waving her bushy tail. 

Beryl was probably watching television with mom and dad. I could have been, only, I didn’t feel like getting out of bed after seeing that tarantula. We just didn’t have poisonous spiders here, they didn’t happen, let alone vanishing ones. I wondered if it was some trick of Julius’, but I knew it wasn’t. 

Ethelda came in shortly afterwards, wearing her bright green bathrobe, with her hair wet and brushed. Her arms were crossed, and she looked decidedly annoyed, and somewhat concerned.

“Zelia, the shower is dripping crazily. Is this more of your ‘the bathtub drain’ business?” she asked, severely.

“I don’t like the bathtub, so I took a shower,” I said, shakily. 

“There’s more than that,” Ethe pointed at the mirror, “Look at your face.”

It looked frightened, my big blue-gray eyes bigger than normal in my face which was more or less the color of my white pillow. I found myself blurting out the whole story to Ethe, who nodded wisely, and said, with a resigned sigh, 

“What can you expect? In one hour it will be midnight, that means that it’ll be Halloween, Zelia.”

“What can we do?” I whispered, anxiously, “Mom’s having that party tomorrow…”

“We'll stay up and see if another ghost appears.”

“What?” I squeaked, “You think it was a ghost?”

“It vanished, didn’t it? But I’m not going to wait in the bathroom,” said Ethe, firmly, “That might look suspicious if Mom came into our room.”

“Right,” I nodded firmly, and walked hastily to the bathroom, taking the time to pull on my pink slippers before shutting the door. With a sigh, I sat down on the washing machine, and started playing eerie music on my phone, before that scared me so much I had to stop. 

Once more I saw the spider come up, get half way across the bathtub, and then vanish. This time, as it vanished, a scream arose that seemed to make my breathing, heart, and blood stop for two seconds, before they resumed their normal course. Nobody was running to the bathroom, so I assumed that they, somehow, had not heard it. 

Now, I had read my share of ghost stories, and I was inclined to believe in ghosts, I was not, however, prepared to meet them in the bathroom…

“AH!” I yelped, helplessly falling into the laundry basket from the washing machine. Fortunately, the laundry was clean. 

A somewhat transparent, stout, bald, mustached, pale, person had appeared.

“Who are you?” I squeaked.

The bald, pale personage looked around with a very queer expression, as if he didn’t quite know where he was. Then he turned to me, and I noticed that he had bright green eyes. 

“Who are you?” I repeated, shakily. 

“This once was my house, child,” said the person, mournfully, “I have come back, every time there was another thirteen year old girl, but only one believed in me. Your great grandmother tried to help me as a girl, though she didn’t know that I was her own uncle, but she moved before she could. Your grandmother never even saw me. Your mother saw me, and didn’t believe she had. 

“Do not take offense, child, but your mother, albeit being an admirable woman, is extremely foolish in some ways. I had hopes you would be able to help me?”

“I’ll try,” I stammered out, nervously, “My name is Zelia Amaryllis Raven…what’s yours?”

“Floyd,” sighed that individual, “Floyd Wilson.” 

I couldn’t help it. I giggled, and Floyd mournfully shook his head, and then I quickly inquired.

“But I don’t understand, Floyd…er…if you were my great-grandmother’s uncle, does that make you mine?”

“Oh, yes,” nodded Floyd, smiling happily at me, “I am. I was very fond of your great grandmother Evangeline. One doesn’t often meet such a lovely little girl. Of course, you appear to be very nice, Zelia. I appeared to her when she was eleven, and she tried to help me till they moved four years later…” 

“Why areyou here?” I asked, shakily. 

“That would have something to do with Sadie,” frowned Uncle Floyd.

“Who?” 

“That spider,” Uncle Floyd said.

“Oh,” I didn’t seem to have enough wits at the moment to say much, for I was sort of astonished. 

“You see, Zelia,” Uncle Floyd continued, merrily, “I had put Sadie in the bathtub to give her a bath, and I reached my hand down, and she bit me, and I didn’t treat it because I got a very bad headache and fainted, and I woke up dead.”

“What?” this was bizarre. I was dreaming, obviously. 

Unfortunately, I wasn’t, but there is such a thing as wishful thinking, is there not?

“Yes. Sadie isn’t a full blooded tarantula. She is, or rather, was, a bit of a venomous monster.”

“Why did you buy her?”

“Nobody else did. I felt sorry for the poor little thing,” said Uncle Floyd, sympathetically, “But anyway, here’s the problem. Apparently, when I fainted, I fainted onto her, and now we’re both ghosts.”

“Oh…okay,” I stammered, “What do you want me to do about it? I don’t know how to un-ghost someone!” I was feeling panicky now, and I felt somewhat as if I was going to cry.

However, I fought against the feeling, because I knew I just felt like that because it was all nerves. Comes of being a teenager, I guess. 

“Before midnight November first, we’ve got to figure out how to make me and Sadie not be ghosts any longer, Zelia,” Uncle Floyd sounded desperate, and no wonder, he’d been living in a bathtub for ages…more or less.

“The party’s tomorrow!” I said, wildly.

“Try asking your relations for advice. There will be a bunch of ghostly things around the party, it being Halloween, and all. Ah, my sister, Clarabelle, was fond of Halloween, but I always preferred Christmas. Now of course, I can’t really enjoy much of anything,” Uncle Floyd continued, bitterly. 

I suddenly thought of something, “But why are you ghosts?”

“Well, Sadie because she poisoned me, and I because I killed Sadie,” Uncle Floyd said, brightly.

“That’s…crazy,” I said, “There’s absolutely no way…I mean…oh…”

I reached for my pink smart phone, because that’s what you go to in emergencies, and held down a button. It beeped slightly, and I said,

“How do you get rid of a ghost?”

“Thank you!” muttered Uncle Floyd.

An annoying, woman’s voice piped up, “A ghost is the spirit of a dead person come back in a semi-physical shape. Supposedly, it takes to haunting certain areas of its death, which came about while they had unfinished business. Does this answer your question?”

“No. I didn’t ask the definition,” I moaned, and then turned to the ghostly uncle with a grimace, “Stupid phone. Uh-oh…I hear mama coming. Vanish.”

Uncle Floyd huffed, but disappeared, and I trotted out of the bathroom, and entered my bedroom, collapsing onto the bed, turning on music, and falling into a deep slumber. I heard the water turn on in the bathtub just before I fell asleep. 

I woke up at chilly dawn. Literally. It was five thirty, and freezing cold. I suspected we had a frost, and my suspicion turned to certainty as I glanced out the window while I got my party dress. 

Half an hour later everyone was at breakfast, looking ridiculously fancy. Mom wore her hair in a big braid, with scarlet feathers and ribbons, and a bright red velvet dress, diamond jewelry, and three inch heels. Dad wore a suit and a bright green tie, which outfit was copied by Julius. Ethe had on a sky blue silk gown, with a ruffly bottom, and a big darker blue sash, that had a bow on it. I wore a similar outfit, only mine was a rich crimson. We both wore huge pearl necklaces and clip on earrings. Both of us wore two inch heels, and I felt like was going to destroy myself in them. Certainly, I wobbled. 

Mom tripped to the kitchen after breakfast, and spent hours making everything that hadn’t been made yesterday. At one o’clock everything was ready, and laid out in our enormous living room, which was now set up with tables, while our smaller living room, which was open to it, was adorned with all kinds of candies and everything was draped in orange, black, and green. 

Then the relations came. We expected forty of them. They all showed up, with an additional three, but that was all right, because Mom had made enough food for twice forty. 

“Oh, congratulations, Meredith,” gushed Aunt Penelope, mom’s sister, who was oily and awful, but sweet, “Oh, this is wonderful. Fifteen years, already. And these are your girls! Why goodness, last time Zelia, here,” she paused to give me a bone-crushing squeeze and pat me on the head, “Was just ten. Oh, will you look at those cakes? Meredith, you’ve outdone yourself.”

Uncle Richard, “Congrats, Owen,” to father, “You’ve survived.”

I stepped behind a large inflatable pumpkin, and stuck my tongue out at Uncle Richard. I had always disliked him.

His wife, Aunt Nana said, “Well, dearies, this is pleasant!”

Cousin Carla, who was almost grown up, patronizingly assured me that she thought I was a quaint little girl.

“Really?” I said, with a faint smile, “Allow me to return the complement.”

“I am seventeen, hardly a little girl, Zel!” laughed Carla.

“I’m but four years younger,” I said, joyously. 

“Oh…” Carla fluttered away, and I noticed that the most the back of her top could say for itself was that there were two overlapping straps. 

Uncle Peter, who thought all children were horrid, and had twelve of them, “Ethelda, do something to your hair. It’s too flamboyant.”

Ethelda looked charmingly wicked, and said, “Well, you know, Uncle Peter, girls are supposed to have long hair.”

Uncle Peter had long red hair, and Ethelda didn’t think it looked manly. And as it was all curly and ribboned, it didn’t. 

Finally everybody was in, including Grandma, who was so sweet, that I didn’t mind her being there, despite the fact that she generally told me I was too thin and that I had to be a little more polite. Not that I wasn’t polite to her, but my several aunts, uncles, and cousins were trying. 

I froze in horror as one of the relations came in. Aunt Pamella Rose was crazy, insane, and absolutely nuts, but, one must make allowances, for after all, Aunt Pam hadbeen struck by lightning. It had turned her hair white. 

Aunt Pam was dressed in a bright blue dress, with ruffles. She had on socks with pizza slices woven into the orange background, and she was wearing flip-flops. To add to the general chaos of her appearance, she had a pair of white pants wrapped around her neck like a scarf. Her head was enveloped in a large pair of shorts, with broaches pinned all over said shorts.

She came up to me with an affectionate smile, “Zelia! Darling!” she gave me a hug which smelled like garlic. Aunt Pam always smelled like garlic. And I hated being hugged. 

“Hi…” I said, timidly backing away towards the food tables, which were beginning to be raided. I managed to fill my paper plate, and edge away to a window seat, and then a bowl of peanuts (still in their shells) flew across the floor. Thankfully, the bowl was plastic. 

Mom yelled something about the window, and maybe she should close it, but I had a feeling otherwise, and was just about to put my last bite of roll into my crammed mouth, when I saw Uncle Floyd appear. I nearly gasped out loud, and looked around frantically, but nobody saw him. I ran after him, and once we got to the edge of the room, I demanded,

“What do you think you’re doing, Uncle Floyd?”

“Saving myself,” Uncle Floyd said, drearily, “You see that woman over there? You need to talk with her upon the subject of ghosts.”

I looked in the direction his horribly transparent finger was pointing, and I felt faintly ill. The woman was Aunt Pamella. 

“Ohh…” I hesitated, before blurting, “But, Uncle Floyd, she smells of garlic!” 

“If anyone can help here, she can. Look, go sit down by her on the couch, your family and some others are there, and I bet in a few minutes the talk will turn to ghosts and things.”

 Uncle Floyd, with an encouraging nod, then vanished, leaving me to gulp, get a glass of pumpkin flavored coffee, answer a text on my phone from my teacher Savannah, and grab my dessert, before trotting over to where about twenty people were having the time of their life. I comfortably placed myself next to Aunt Pam, with Julius on my other side. 

The combination of my younger brother and my insane aunt sitting on either side of me while I was trying to eat chocolate cake and candy corn was not relaxing. 

“Look at that inflatable ghost across the street,” I laughed, “As if ghosts were real!”

“Don’t be so sure they’re not,” snapped Aunt Pam, sharply. 

“Why not? I’ve…I mean, really?”

“I could tell you a few things about ghosts, child,” Aunt Pam seriously informed me. 

“I’ve never understood,” I said, in a subdued voice, “If one lived in a haunted house, there must be a way to de-haunt it?”

“Well, you have to set the ghost to rest, of course,” Aunt Pam laughed.

I scornfully exclaimed, “And how, exactly, could a living person set a dead one to rest?”

“By removing the obstacle that’s in the way, of course,” Aunt Pam said.

Julius remarked, “Do you have a ghost, Zelia?”

I snorted, and gulped down some chocolate cake, with a bit of horror. Julius was getting close to knowing the truth, and I had no idea how to remove the obstacle of Sadie and Uncle Floyd having killed each other. 

“Meredith, I think, if you can take me, I should like to stay until the sixth of November,” said Aunt Pam, plaintively, “My house is so big and lonely these days. And I’ve that operation on the seventh.”

Aunt Pam had raised her sister’s children (there were fourteen of them!) but they had grown up and left, so Aunt Pam was left with a mansion and a fish aquarium.

“Whose feeding the fish, then?” asked Dad, jovially, for there was no question of notletting Aunt Pamella stay. Mom and Dad were hospitable folks. 

“My nephew Loren,” sighed Aunt Pamela, “It’s on his way to work you know.”

Cousin Olive turned up at this point to say that the cat and dog had gotten out, and she had managed to get Beryl back into the room, but she was afraid her sister Mollie’s children were tormenting the cat. 

I flew and Ethelda flew with me to the scene. Three spoiled brats were poking and prodding at our cat, who was getting more and more irritated. Dulcie was of a remarkably sweet temperament, but being poked in the stomach was not a calming exercise.

“Hezekiah! Delilah! Norma! Stop it this instant,” I commanded. 

A lamp fell over, and I caught a fleeting glimpse of Uncle Floyd. This was the limit. I was on sugar-high, I had a ghost to deal with, the whole place was an explosion of noise, and I kept running into inflatable ghosts and pumpkins! 

Hezekiah pulled Dulcie’s tail, and Dulcie turned and gave him a sharp bite on his hand. 

“Mommmyyyy!” yelled Hezekiah, rushing towards Cousin Mollie with a big pout on his face, “The cat bit me.”

Aunt Pamella, who had somehow turned up behind me, laughed. Mollie turned to Mom with a outraged expression, “If you can’t control that cat, Meredith, she’ll have to be disposed of.”

Mom snarled, “If you can’t control that brat, Mollie, he’ll have to leave. This is my house, my cat, and my carpet Norma’s spreading chocolate over.”

I decided to escape, and Aunt Pamela and Ethelda followed. I sat down comfortably on a purple couch, and remarked in a low voice,

“Aunt Pam, I dohave a ghost to deal with, and I don’t quite know how to.” 

“Oh, deary, I know. That’s partly why I chose to stay for a while, because I want to help you. Let’s get some refreshments, and we can talk things over. When do the rest go?”

“Well, a lot of them will be leaving after supper, but I think cousin Mollie and her three children are staying for another two days,” I moaned. 

We went to the table that had drinks, and I filled up a plastic cup with a pumpkin spice latte, while Aunt Pam grabbed some hot apple cider, and Ethe rolled her eyes as she filled up a huge mug with pomegranate juice. We went back to the couch, settling down once more, and I found myself holding a lap-full of unhappy cat. Dulcie’s feelings had been injured. 

“So what exactly are we supposed to be doing?” Ethe asked, tiredly, “Really, if we’ve got a ghost, why don’t you just look up online what to do with them?”

“Yeah, I already asked my phone,” I snorted, “Still, good suggestion. But, Aunt Pam, what dowe do?”

“I would suggest waiting until nighttime, and then we’ll think on it,” Aunt Pamella grinned, “We’ll have enough to do keeping Mollie’s daughters and son in line.”

“That’s the truth. Poor Beryl and Dulcie,” I stroked the Maine Coon cat who purred softly. 

I sipped my coffee suspiciously, and watched as people loudly socialized. Presently Aunt Pam wandered off; and when we finished our drinks, we went around being chattered to by cousins. Supper time rolled around and the food was brought out again, though various tidbits had always been there. I stacked my plate up again, having a healthy appetite which could digest anything and everything most of the time. I then settled myself at one of the long plastic tables, unfortunately getting beside Cousin Mollie’s family. 

I winced. 

“Where did you find that lemon pie?” gushed Delilah, who was fourteen, and considered herself quite old and mature, in contrast to ten year old Hezekiah and seven year old Norma. 

“It’s banana cream, actually,” I informed her, and then winced as once more the bowl of peanuts sailed through the air. What didUncle Floyd have against those peanuts?

Suddenly my phone buzzed, making a crow noise, and I yanked it out, annoyed. Savannah had sent me another text.

Make sure you do your homework, sweetie, can’t neglect itfor celebrations. Remember to bring your history book on Monday. 

I groaned miserably, and shouted at my phone, using speech to text, which sometimes worked, and more often then not didn’t. Miraculously, it did this time.

This is Wednesday, Miss Savannah, Monday is ages away!

“Who are you talking to, Zelia?” asked Norma, angrily.

“My teacher,” I told her, loudly, “I need to go check that curtain. Something seems to be wrong with it…” I slipped my phone back into my pocket, and ran over to where peanuts were rolling around on the floor, and confronted my ghostly uncle.

“Oh, there you are,” he said, sourly, “Took you long enough.”

“I was detained by annoying second cousins and my equally annoying teacher, Uncle Floyd,” I told him, severely. 

“Have you found anything out about how to un-ghost me?”

“Aunt Pam has promised to help,” I assured him, “But really, don’t youknow? I mean, you’re dead! Shouldn’t you know stuff?”

“Not this,” he said, proudly. 

I reached over to a table and picked up an ice-cold can of ginger ale, and popped up the metal tab. Some of the ginger ale sprayed me in the face, but most of it remained in the can, and I started sipping at it while I had a friendly chat with my long deceased uncle. 

“Now, what exactly are we going to do?” I demanded, “We have until midnight tomorrow night. Which thankfully, I don’t have to go to school, because we were given a holiday…but this is very difficult.”

“Yes, I agree,” Uncle Floyd looked wistfully at the cans of soda pop on the table, and sighed, but then returned to me, “Once everyone leaves, except your Aunt Pamella, we’ll be able to figure something out.”

“Well, Cousin Mollie Morgan is staying, with Delilah, Hezekiah, and Norma,” I hesitatingly said, dropping my can into the trash can which was full of other soda pop cans, and I grabbed a piece of cake, because in my nervous state of mind, I needed to be eating or drinking something just to keep from panicking.

“That’s bad,” commented Uncle Floyd, “It’ll make the job more difficult.”

Both of us looked over to where Hezekiah was throwing a tantrum fit because one of his chocolate dipped strawberries had fallen onto the floor. I looked back at Uncle Floyd, 

“So…I suppose we could try killing you again…”

“Nonsense. When did you ever kill a dead person?” Uncle Floyd asked me.

“True,” I groaned. 

Finally people started to drift away and the Morgan family and Aunt Pamella brought in their suitcases and duffel bags. We had two spare bedrooms, so Hezekiah and Julius would have to share one, while Norma and Delilah could sleep together, and Aunt Pam could take the other spare room. 

“Whoa, Meredith,” said Mollie, comfortably, “That was some celebration.”

“Let’s go get our party clothes off,” said Ethelda, sensibly, “Then I’m going to help Mama clean up.”

“Nonsense,” said Dad, authoritatively, “I shall do all the cleaning up.”

“I’ll help, Owen,” offered Mollie, who, whatever she lacked in training her children, was certainly a good cleaner.

So everyone scattered to their respective rooms to put on normal clothes. I donned a pair of chartreuse sweat pants and a red top with chartreuse flowers on it. I looked into my mirror and realized I looked like I had been violently seasick, but they were comfortable, so I didn’t change. Most everyone else was wearing jeans. 

We were all more or less tired and cranky, and Dad especially so because he hated washing and drying dishes, but he always did it after a party, because Mom had enough to do figuring out how to get out of her fancy dress. 

“HOORAY!” I suddenly yelped.

“Zelia?” Julius said, startled, “What happened?”

“Ohhh,” I said, with exaggerated casualness, “Nothing…” I purred, looking excitedly at Ethe and Aunt Pam. 

They appeared to understand, for they nodded slightly, and Aunt Pam yelled, “Ethe, Zelia, I want you to come help me unpack at nine o’clock.”

I smiled thinly, an action which was mirrored by Ethelda, and then we had to mingle with our cousins. Julius and Hezekiah brought out a science kit which Julius had been given for his eight birthday and had never used, and were about to use it in the living room when Dad yelled,

“Take it to the kitchen, Jule, Hez!”

Delilah snootily settled herself in the armchair, and turned on the television to the news. Cousin Mollie complacently settled herself with a violent orange sweater she was knitting, and started watching too. Beryl was allowed out of the room, and she and the cat tumbled around. Aunt Pam and Mom gossiped merrily in the background, and it was up to Ethe and I to entertain Norma Morgan. 

Unfortunately, all I could think about was my idea of how to get rid of ghostly Uncle Floyd, which sounded rather funny when one phrased it that way, but it was at his request. I squirmed uneasily. 

“Zelia, can I play with the dog?” asked Norma, anxiously.

“No, Norma, you’d better not,” I sent an absentminded glance over at Beryl, who was lying on her dog bed, brown eyes fixed on the television.

Norma started wailing. I promptly stood up, “I’m going to bed, come Ethe.”

Aunt Pam stood up, too, “Yes, it’s almost nine. You can help me with my luggage!” she yelped excitedly, and started skipping upstairs. We followed, looking apprehensively at each other, but we got to the violent hot pink wall papered spare bedroom with no trouble, and sat down on the long couch that was there. 

“So, what was your plan, Zelia?”

“Oh, I forgot to tell Uncle Floyd to meet us,” I said, complainingly, “Oh, well. Anyway…”

I was cut short by Uncle Floyd popping up suddenly, and I gave him an annoyed look, before explaining. Aunt Pamella and Ethe and Uncle Floyd looked at each other with incredulous expression, and then all three were turned on me. 

I instantly felt stupid and guilty, but sent a challenging look back at each of them, and slowly, their doubt faded off their faces, and we set about my project. 

We had a time limit. Everything should be done before midnight tonight, if possible. We had another day, but did we want to risk it? This was, after all, Halloween, and tomorrow was just All Saints Day. 

Uncle Floyd drifted away, he’dbe in position, for he had no choice. The rest of us started on our parts, as aforesaid. Now, the problem was, sneaking around the house and gathering the necessary materials. Also, we had to make sure Mom, Dad, Cousin Mollie, her children, and Julius were all in bed. That would be eleven o’clock, and wehadto have the things ready by then. 

“I’ll get the bandages,” said Ethe, firmly.

“I’ve already got a knife,” I offered.

“And I’ve the other,” Ethe nodded. 

“I’ll get the medicine,” Aunt Pam said, dreamily.

Ethe and I looked doubtfully at each other, but nodded. I gulped, knowing I had to take the hardest task.

“I’ll go outside to the yard and get the bucket of stale water,” I moaned. 

I sighed, and grabbed my tennis shoes, tying them energetically onto my slender, long feet. I pulled on a hooded sweatshirt, and fingerless gloves, and trotted towards the door. I should have known, however, that I couldn’t escape detection.

“Zelia,” it was Delilah’s smug voice that interrupted my venture, “What areyou doing?”

My mind raced, and I said, in a rather tight voice, “I’m going star-gazing. I always like to have a last one of those before the weather gets freezing.”

“Well, I’ll come out too,” Delilah slipped on her own tennis shoes, pulled on a jacket, and smiled at me.

I opened the door numbly, having never dreamed of this possibility. Stopped, yes, but accompanied? I shook with excitement and fear as we trotted across the yard. The bucket was just a metal bucket with a plastic handle, and it was filled with water that had been collected about ten days before from the last rain we’d had for a while.

“This is the best spot to see stars,” I said, which was true, the trees weren’t so thick around the area here. I slowly reached down and picked up the bucket, and then after twenty minutes, I remarked.

“Getting cold. I guess I’ll go in now,” I walked forwards with the bucket, and Delilah followed.

“What’s that, Zel?” she asked, pointing to the bucket with a smile. 

“Oh, this?” I laughed, “It’s just water to clean off some things Mom doesn’t want in the sink.”

“Oh,” Delilah nodded, “Outdoorsy stuff?”

“You might say that,” I said, cautiously.

“Okay.”

I breathed a sigh of relief as I escaped her, and I tugged it up to the bathroom, setting it behind the washing machine, so Mom wouldn’t find it. Mom never squeezed between the washer and dryer, but I could, so all was well there. 

But now it was almost eleven, so I rushed back to Aunt Pam’s room, and found the others assembled. We went as one to the bathroom, and then closed and locked the door.

“Right,” I said, with a nod, “Knives,” I grabbed one and stabbed the other’s wooden handle. 

I took the stabbed knife and sliced clean through the center of a wad of thick white bandages, I set them aside and plunged my knife through the heart of the antibiotic medicine bottle, and winced. Mom was going to be furious about that gaping hole, but it was for a worthy cause. Ethe got handed the stabbed bandages and medicine, and I grabbed the bucket of water ready. The timing hadto be perfect. The spider started coming out again, and I shuddered, a wind was blowing, but the window was closed, and the night still. 

The spider crept towards Uncle Floyd who was simply floating something in the water, apparently having forgotten that his clothes would get wet. A horrendous scream came from him, and this was when we acted. Ethe smeared the stabbed medicine over the stabbed bandages and wrapped both around the hand that the spider had bitten. As Uncle Floyd fainted, having stood up, I splashed the stale water over, driving the spider back, and both were unharmed. Uncle Floyd stood up, getting more and more transparent.

“A dead remedy,” he smiled faintly, “Congratulations, my nieces, and thank you! It will be…appreciated…not to…be a ghost.”

He vanished altogether, and I, for some reason, fell down on the floor and started to cry. 

“Why, what’s wrong, Zel?” asked Ethe, nervously.

“I feel like I just saw someone die,” I wailed.

“Nonsense. That was a good idea of yours, though,” Ethe praised, “Thinking of killing the things so that they would be effective on dead folks.”

“It only works on this night,” Aunt Pam said, eerily, “Halloween allows inanimate objects to be more dead then normal, and ghosts to be more alive.”

“Charming,” I chattered, “Let’s get to bed.”

I popped open the door, and nobody was in the hallway, so I tip-toed out, followed by everyone else. I crept into my room and pulled on my pajamas, before crawling to the living room, and collapsing on a couch. I took out my smart phone, and a beep sounded.

“What?” I said, tiredly, pressing on the screen. 

A text, without any name or anything simply saying ‘Job well done, eh?’ and there was an ancient looking picture of Uncle Floyd, only he wasn’t a ghost, but simply a person, carrying a large spider, also not a ghost.  

“What?” I repeated, “Whatever.”

I turned on my Scottish music, and pulled a blanket over me. I grabbed some gingerbread and started numbly chewing as I slowly drifted towards sleep. 

A thunderstorm was starting outside, and I saw Aunt Pam walking out towards it.

“AUNT PAM, Stop!” 

I was just picturing her obituary saying she was killed by lightning, after having survived it once, but was stopped when Aunt Pam stopped just at the door, without actually being in the storm.

“Aunt Alana!” she cried, joyously.

“What, what are you talking about?” I breathed. 

My question was answered as a tall, misty woman came in. Her hair was long, wavy, and black. Her eyes were reflecting fire, and they were icy. She was beautiful, very, but all wrong. And fire was burning at her feet, caught on the long red dress she was wearing.

“Eek,” I squealed. 

The woman turned to me with a piercing glare. 

“You traitor child,” she said, with a voice that sounded like ice, however that worked, but it did.

“Me?” I whispered.

Her icy voice was extremely accusatory. 

“My name is Alana Wilson. Why is my husband no longer a ghost?”

There was really only one way to answer, “Uh…”