Little Red Gem by D L Richardson Page A

is
like a magnetic pull. Ignore and push through.”
    I did as she instructed,
focusing on lifting my hand through the fabric, ignoring the
buzzing in my head. I lifted my hand…and when I opened my eyes, I
was majorly disappointed to find my hand had disappeared through to
the other side of the cabin wall.
    “ Why won’t this
work?”
    There was an authoritative
edge to Anne’s voice. “Try again.”
    I did, and then I tried
again, and again. I spent hours attempting to move objects. Each
attempt failed dismally. When a breeze blew in, it mocked me by
stirring the curtains.
    “ This is pointless,” I
whined. “Audrey says poltergeists can move objects because they’re
old. I died a week ago.”
    Anne, who had the patience
of a saint and therefore couldn’t comprehend how I was a constant
wound up ball of frustration unraveling in front of her, laughed
gently. “Moving objects took a while to master when I first
started. But I eventually learned. You’ll eventually learn,
too.”
    “ I don’t have an eternity
to learn. I have a few days. A few weeks tops.”
    “ Try opening the curtain
again,” Anne urged. “This time, envisage the love that binds you to
Leo.”
    The need for women to
prove themselves mustn’t have changed over the centuries. Anne got
that I needed to do this, and I was grateful for her encouraging
words. She could have chosen to slip off into the other room and
ignore me, and then where would I have been? So I did as she
instructed. I conjured up images of Leo the way I knew him best,
not the empty shell from the funeral. His skin was the color of
honey. His pouty lips appeared as if they waited to be kissed but
only looked this way because his mind was usually encased in lyrics
that his lips couldn’t help utter. His hair was chestnut brown and
unruly, like a lion’s mane. I pictured his muscled arms holding me
around my waist. I pictured him pulling me toward him so his hips
could grind into mine.
    I inhaled sharply when my
hand touched an indescribable something. I imagined Leo’s strong
jaw line and my hand caressing it. I then concentrated on sweeping
the imaginary fringe out of his eyes. When I finally snuck a peak
through half-slit lids, I was greeted by a beam of sunlight slicing
through the trees outside. This was the first morning where I
hadn’t open my eyes and wished the sunlight away.
    I laughed out loud,
jubilated by my success. It felt as if a weight was lifted off my
chest and for this brief moment I could fool myself into thinking
that the hardest part of this ordeal was over.
     
     
     
    ***
     
     
    I spent the remainder of
the day moving everything in the cabin that wasn’t nailed down –
cutlery, figurines, books, cushions, even the toaster found a new
home on the opposite side of the kitchen bench. Anne clapped in
time to my movements, which inspired me to sweep her up in my arms
and dance with her around the room. Midway through our waltz, the
door swung open with a bang.
    William stood in the
doorway. His features were forlorn. “You should have stayed after
the service,” he snipped. “There was cake. Smelled divine. Wish I
could have eaten. Wish I could do many things.”
    Anne’s pale face flushed
pink as if she was ashamed at being caught enjoying herself. The
hairs on my neck bristled.
    “ Just because you guys are
cursed doesn’t mean you have to give up on the things you enjoy,” I
said.
    William stayed a
reasonable distance away from the door to avoid the effect of it
slamming in his face. He prowled the deck as if bristling with
attitude. For once I was glad he wasn’t able to enter.
    “ I would never begrudge my
love her happiness,” he said. “Besides, Anne was always more fond
of dancing.”
    “ And you were more fond of
cake,” she replied with a wry smile.
    Had these two had a fight
while I was at my funeral? A part of me was glad they were acting
like a normal bickering couple. Because a part of me thought, if
they could find