Movin' On Page 3
“Where?” asked Bobby. “Where would I be?”
“I have no idea,” she answered. “I’m not dead yet.” Look, we can’t waste time on silly questions. I can’t hang around muttering to myself for too long at a time. It would cause trouble for me. One thing I can tell you is that it might have something to do with your ego. You’re very into yourself aren’t you? I noticed that in class when you were still alive. Every class was a performance rather than a lesson. You don’t even know my name, or anything else about me.” The woman then rose from the bench, gathered up her things, and began to walk away from him.
Bobby began to panic. “Please don’t go,” he cried, but she was looking away from him and didn’t see it. He followed her to the front doors, and reached out to touch her before she reached them. She turned to him, smiling, and mouthed, “See you tomorrow.” Then she left him to go where he couldn’t, and he still didn’t know her name. He moved over to the reception desk where Phoebe and Averil were gossiping as usual.
“There goes that weird Laura. She gives me the creeps; she mutters to herself and sometimes she looks at things that aren’t there, just like a cat. You know what I mean,” said Phoebe quietly.
“I know exactly what you mean,” said Averil. “I have to work hard to be nice to her when she swipes her membership card across the machine. It takes all kinds I guess.”
Okay, thought Bobby, her name is Laura. I’ll call her by it tomorrow; maybe it will impress her. Now, I have to find something to do until tomorrow morning. I guess I’ll watch the classes until closing time, but since I don’t seem to need sleep, it will probably be a long, boring night. Not for the first time, he wished that he knew who had killed him.
The day and evening passed fairly quickly, but after Averil left (this time, she checked the whole building), Bobby found that he had time on his hands – a lot of time. Carol (from listening to gossip, he now knew her name too) had been granted two weeks sick leave to recuperate from finding his body, and Ollie refused to work nights; he would clean before opening time for two weeks, he had said. Therefore Bobby was alone in his prison. Yes, it was a prison, he reasoned. After all, he couldn’t leave it. He wandered through the building, aimlessly at first, and then with a purpose. If he snooped around, he might find a clue related to his death. He could walk through walls, but he couldn’t actually move anything, so he could only read the top papers on any desk and most of these were related to finances or schedules. This wasn’t helpful at all. It must be someone he knew, he decided because strangers didn’t bash you on the head unless they wanted to steal something, and from what he had heard, nothing was taken, either from him, or from the centre. He hadn’t surprised a thief. Besides, the murderer had used his award to kill him. This meant that Bobby had taken it out, and was showing it to someone. Perhaps, he had given it to someone to hold, and then turned his back on them to do something else, probably with his bag. He could have been bending over his bag when he, or she, hit him. This meant that it didn’t have to be someone tall. That didn’t narrow the field, however, because there were a lot of people who were shorter than Bobby. At this point, he found that he had run out of ideas.
Then he remembered what the woman, Laura had said to him – that he must have to learn something before he could move on. He didn’t think she meant the identity of his killer. She had mentioned his ego. How could she know that anyway? He wondered if she was a witch, or a psychic, or something. He’d always considered that whole deal something of a con. Now he wondered if she could see any other ghosts. Besides, what was wrong with his ego? He’d always been very confident of his own abilities, but that was normal, wasn’t it? He didn’t think that there had been, or was anything wrong with him. He had been good looking, charming, and graceful. His many lovers could attest to that fact.
He thought about his two latest conquests: Phoebe, and Johnny. Both of them had been mad about him. While he preferred the company of Johnny, Phoebe had been no slouch in bed. What if one of them had found out about the other? The grapevine was a very healthy plant at this centre; it was a possibility. He didn’t think anyone knew about Phoebe. They had always met at her apartment and she was fairly cool to him here at the centre. He’d always admired her ability to fool others, although he had found her a bitch in many other ways and she was really too old for him. Still she had been a consolation on the nights that Johnny couldn’t leave his Mommy for one reason or another. He decided that if either of them had done it, it would have to be Phoebe because Johnny was a bit of a wuss.
Bobby turned his mind back to the ego thing. Maybe you had to be humble to get into Heaven, or wherever. When he was a boy, the priests were always going on about the meek inheriting the earth, but that was the earth, and he was still stuck here on earth against his will, and he wasn’t meek at all. He just didn’t get it. He’d ask Laura when she showed up. Maybe she’d come early. He hoped so. If she was the first to arrive, maybe they could find somewhere to talk without a nosy audience.
Laura did arrive early, about half an hour before the class was to begin. She led him to the ladies’ change room, and walked in. After she’d changed into her gym shoes, she went into the bathroom cubicle for those with disabilities, and shut the door. She then said quietly, “I don’t need to use the facilities; get in here Bobby. No one will see what I’m doing in here.”
Bobby obeyed. She wasn’t so dumb after all. He began the conversation with her name. “Laura,” he said. “I have a few questions. Can you always see the dead, I mean, their spirits? Why am I stuck here? Have they found out who did it yet, and what did you mean about my ego?
“Oh, good, you learned my name; that’s a start,” said Laura. Yes, I can see the ones who are trapped here. I think some of us are destined to tell them a few truths that they missed while they were alive. It speeds up the process of their release. There are a few who would take forever to leave. As to why you are stuck, you’re where you are because you can’t see beyond your own narrow focus. All your life you’ve lived within yourself and for yourself. You didn’t even know the names of most of the people in your class. I suspect that you were only aware of others when they met your particular needs. Bobby, you’re trapped within yourself; that’s why you can’t move on. Now, I have to go to class; please move out of my way. By the way, the police are looking for Zena’s son Johnny as a person of interest. They want to check his finger prints. With that, Laura left him alone in the cubicle.
Bobby followed her through the change room averting his eyes from most of the unclad bodies, though not because of modesty. He hadn’t realized what some women looked like without their support garments. It wasn’t pretty.
After this, he watched the class, and thought about what Laura had said to him. If he’d still been alive, he would have been severely ticked off, but the longer he stayed in the state he was in, the less strong emotion he could muster. Maybe Laura was right about the ego thing. When it came to others, he had seen them only as they related to him, but didn’t everyone? Perhaps not. Laura didn’t think so anyway. She seemed to think that we’re supposed to help others – Good Samaritan and all that other stuff he’d mostly forgotten… and why were they looking for Johnny? Where was he? His finger prints were most likely on the statue; he’d handled it more than once. He couldn’t be the killer, could he? Please God, he couldn’t be the killer. Sadness filled Bobby. Had he turned that gentle, caring man into a killer? Had Johnny found out about Phoebe? Phoebe meant nothing to Bobby on an emotional level; he hadn’t even liked her very much, but now Bobby was realizing that Johnny did mean something to him. If it hadn’t been for Zena the Possessive, the two of them could probably have made a life together. Being unused to regret, Bobby felt uncomfortable. He also felt just a little less trapped.
How odd! Maybe that’s what Laura meant. When he was thinking about someone else’s problems, he wasn’t thinking about himself, and he didn’t feel so trapped. He was very worried about Johnny. If he was the killer, he must be tormented about what had happened because that was what Johnny was like, and Bobby couldn’t do anything for him. What a mess! Bobby hoped that Laura would talk to him again tomorrow. He spent the rest of the day moping and worrying about Johnny. He avoided the front desk until nearly closing time. Then, he thought of something. Where was Zena? Surely she knew where Johnny was. Bobby couldn’t imagine Zena willingly allowing Johnny to escape her talons. He decided to eavesdrop whenever he could. Moping didn’t solve anything. It was a waste of time. He didn’t know what he could do, but he wanted to do something. Perhaps he could tell Laura what he learned and she could help Johnny.
At the front desk, Averil was trying to calm a very distraught Zena. “But he’s disappeared; my beautiful Johnny has disappeared. He didn’t come home on Monday night, and I haven’t seen him since then. He hasn’t even called. Averil how can I be calm when my son is