A Ghastly Habit

Unbound by flesh and bone, the face of a panicked ghost contorts itself into the most wretched shapes. Three such faces pressed against the specially treated glass of the ecto-lock chamber, which stood about as tall as a man, with a long tube extending from its base. The end of this tube had a rubber nozzle, and since the user of this tube had been lazy about winding the tube back around its hook, the rubber nozzle lay on the floor.

There was a fourth face, down at the bottom of the ecto-lock chamber, that was focused and freckled, framed by curls that were black in life. This ghost, whose name was Amelia, hung upside down and stared at the nozzle. She was trying to think, but the shrieks of the other three made that hard to do.

“Quiet!” she shouted. “All that screaming won’t help us get out!”

“You don’t understand,” wailed Mathias, “I was part of the team that developed these very ecto-lock chambers. They are impervious! We ran every test! No ghost can escape from them!”

Four ghosts full, the chamber was cramped, and they had to swirl around and press their ectoplasm into the most unnatural shapes. Still, Amelia craned to look at Mathias. Even in his distorted face, Amelia could see the goatee he had waxed with gentlemanly precision in life.

“I thought engineers were supposed to be smart,” she snapped. “Here you are whining and crying like a baby!”

“No good,” said Neema, the ghost with a faint, choked voice. Of the four of them, she was the least substantial. Her glow was dim, but Amelia could still make out her headwrap and her high cheekbones. She would have bouts of frantic energy, not so much screaming as panting as she pushed as hard as she could to the very top of the chamber. Now she was weakening again, sinking with a strange calm on her face.

“We tried it all,” she said, “No good. I watched him suck up three other ghosts, until there was only me. Got a good chunk of me too. Don’t know if I’ll make it another round.”

“Stuck!” yelled Burt, the big ghost with the flat face and the beady eyes.

Amelia was the most recent capture, having been in the chamber only a few hours. All she knew was she’d been floating through the market one moment, and the next she was pulled into a dark, cramped space, and then she was here.

“Oh heavens,” Mathias whined, “we meant for this technology to rehabilitate troubled spirits. It would keep the living safe, of course, but also give the spirits time to collect themselves. We never imagined these criminal miscreants would use it to…ugh, I can’t even say it!”

“See the green dancers?” said Neema.

“All of you, listen,” said Amelia, “I have a baby sister on the way, and I’m her guardian angel. I can’t do much guarding cooped up in here, so we need to get out.”

“Stuck!” yelled Burt, swirling in circles through the chamber and pushing the others around. Evidently, he had such magnificent strength in life that it carried through into death. This gave Amelia an idea.

“Mathias, you would know: is this thing we’re in secured? Could we knock it over? The walls look like glass,” she said.

“That was my original idea,” he said, “Burt — simple, beautiful Burt here — gave it his best slam. It teetered just a hair’s breadth then settled right back in place.”

“All life ends, ghost girl,” said Neema, “the beast part of your spirit fights to live. Same for all of us, even me. But let the higher part take peace. Soon, there will be no more longing.”

Since Amelia couldn’t exactly stomp her foot, she shook her whole ectoplasm in a show of raw denial.

“I’m not a ghost. I’m a guardian angel, and I want to be there to greet my sister!”

She floated back down to where she was looking before. There the nozzle lay on the floor. Out of curiosity, she tried pushing herself into the tube to see if she could reach the nozzle. Indeed she could, although her ectoplasm certainly felt strange in such a serpentine shape. She slipped back into the chamber and resumed staring at the nozzle. Then she saw the cat. It was a big, scruffy tabby, like the one she used to pester as a child. She remembered mimicking the noise of a mouse just to drive it crazy. Then, she had an idea, an idea that stretched a smile across her face and made her glow all over with excitement.

“Burt!” she shouted. “I’m going back into the tube. Once I’m in there, push me as hard as you can!”

Burt brought his huge face to hers and nodded. She squeezed herself into the tube and pressed her lips against the mouth of the nozzle. Burt pushed against her feet, and the tube bulged from the sheer pressure of her ectoplasm. She concentrated all of her energy on the sound, hoping to make it as loud and clear as possible.

Squeak!

Though she could see nothing, she trusted that she had the cat’s attention. She gave it a few more seconds, then…

Squeak!

Behind her, she heard Mathias comment on the cat before returning, once more, to his wailing. Amelia could almost picture it watching the nozzle with eyes turned full black, wiggling its behind in the air. Just a few more seconds, then…

Squeak!

The cat pounced and pressed hard on the nozzle, making an opening. Amelia shot out, and next thing she knew she was floating in the room outside the ecto-lock chamber. She looked down and saw the cat batting around the nozzle. The stunned faces of the others all pressed against the glass of the ecto-lock chamber. She had a thought and, in almost that same instant, felt guilty for having it. She could just leave. Ecto-lock chambers aside, ghosts could pass through any surface. She could float right on back to her family.

But then, what sort of example would that set for her baby sister? Not that she would ever know, necessarily, but the spirit of the thing would be all wrong. Guardian angels are courageous and selfless and kind, no matter who they find in trouble. So Amelia resolved to help the others escape too.

She looked around the room. It was a dingy, rotten place. Cobwebs hung thick in the corners of the ceiling, and the wallpaper peeled away to show walls pocked with mold. The green glow of the ecto-lock chamber made it look all the more diseased. The closest thing to luxury was an overstuffed leather chair sat next to the ecto-lock chamber, and even that was starting to crack all over.

Then the door creaked. Time slowed as Amelia watched her captor enter. He wore a ragged coat, and a strange pack with a long tube that he shrugged off and left by the door. His face, gaunt and unshaven, was half hidden beneath a pair of goggles that glowed green like the ecto-lock chamber. Before those goggles could turn and see her, Amelia came to her senses and hid behind the chair.

The man scooped up the nozzle from the floor then plopped down into the chair. Amelia could hear him suck in a deep drag then groan with pleasure. She winced. She hoped that wasn’t the last of Neema. She had to think. How was she going to knock over the ecto-lock chamber? She shut her eyes and concentrated as hard as she could. But there was nothing. It was impossible. Her heart sank.

Another suck on the nozzle and another groan. She didn’t have time for this! And she certainly didn’t have time to wallow in despair. It would be hard, but hard is not the same thing as impossible. After all, the ecto-lock chamber stood only as tall as a man, and…

“Wait,” she whispered to herself.

The ecto-lock chamber stood just as tall as this man, the awful creature sprawled in the chair. She didn’t need to knock it over — he would! But how? Slowly, she floated away from the chair and over to the ecto-lock chamber. She waved for the others to come to her. They couldn’t hear each other through the glass, so she pointed to the man, tapped on the chamber, and used her fingers to show one knocking over the other.

The others nodded. Burt just kept nodding while Mathias brought his hand thoughtfully to his goatee. Then Neema came forward. She smiled and swayed her hips, then wrapped her arms around Mathias and made him move with her too. It was…

“A dance!” Amelia mouthed.

Neema nodded.

Amelia bowed in thanks, then floated back to the chair. If she was going to do this right, she couldn’t let the man see her. After all, he had just caught her hours ago. Even in his current state, he might recognize her. She got an idea, though it didn’t quite sound like something a guardian angel would do. Still, it would work. She reached over and put her hands over his goggles. Then, she whispered in his ear.

“I am one of the green dancers. I am here to be your lover.”

The man laughed a dirty laugh and stirred.

“Is that right?” he said. “Can I get a good look at you first?”

“I promise I am so beautiful that men have called me goddess, and I have…”

Amelia heard the next words in her head, and had to fight both the urge to laugh and the urge to gag.

“…greater desires than any mortal woman.”

“Tell me what I should do,” he said, breathing heavily.

Amelia ordered him to rise and dance to her instructions, trusting her to be his eyes. He stood, nearly toppling over already, and fumbled through the steps she gave him. She guided him until the chair was out of the way, and he was just a few steps away from the ecto-lock chamber.

“My love,” she said, “I have used the magic of the green dancers to summon a bed for us. You have danced with dignity, but now you must show me your wild hunger. Pounce on this bed, and I will pounce on you.”

“I think I see it through your hands,” he said, “Is it green like you are, goddess?”

“Yes, it — ”

Before she could even move her hands, he leapt forward and slammed straight into the ecto-lock chamber. As it toppled over, he tried to grasp it and pull it back upright. He only managed to bring himself down with it. The chamber landed directly on his arm, shattered, and sprayed him with shards of glass. As he writhed and cursed on the ground, the other three ghosts floated up to Amelia. Neema looked unchanged, though Burt and Mathias were both a bit dimmer.

“You ran every test?” Amelia asked, smirking at Mathias.

“Apparently not,” he said, “never have I been so grateful for my own incompetence!”

“Free!” said Burt.

“They both mean ‘thank you,’ green dancer,” said Neema. “My thanks too.”

Amelia hugged them each, then floated up into the night sky, off towards her family’s home. She had not been dead very long, and only now did she feel a twinge of sadness at dying so young. Still, she shook this off and floated on, smiling with determination. She was a guardian angel, after all. She had a whole lifetime of work to do, even if that lifetime wasn’t hers.