The Almost Rock Star (A Ghost Story) (DRAFT)

The Almost Rock Star (A Ghost Story) 20, Lessons

Chapter Twenty

Lessons

A portal opened near the boy who had no eyes. At least, I assumed it was a portal. A doorway to somewhere. It was pitch black, with a line of bright light around the edge. The light line was thin and the black was dense, like something darker dwelt beneath it.

I looked at the handsome man. I had conflicting emotions. Was he really Satan, the Prince of Darkness? Or was he some lying god? Or someone else?

I wasn’t really ready for this new world and its inhabitants. I thought about my violated body, now in a refrigerator in the Palm Beach County morgue. 

“Yes, you’re dead. This is the afterlife,” Satan said. “Welcome to your new life.” 

He was apparently leaving me with the evil little boy. My suffering had somewhat stopped and I stood up. I was looking between Satan, the evil entity boy and the doorway, which showed only a purplish darkness through the rectangle of light. My familiar living room, full of comfortable chairs and the sofa, oversized pillows and my fluffy blankets, seemed to call to me to curl up in a comforter and stay in the safety of the El Cid guesthouse. 

“I said, you’re leaving with Edwardo here,” Satan said. “Don’t make him angry. He can hurt you. I’ll see you later.”

Then he disappeared, and there was Edwardo, his hopelessly blank empty spaces for eyes seeming to look at me. He held out his hand to me. It was a gesture that in any child would have brought out the most natural of responses; I would have reached mine out also, and been happier for it. One of the joys of life; children. I had always hoped to marry my soul mate and have beautiful, singing children someday. Maybe a whole bunch of them, like in “The Sound of Music.” 

Instead, as Edwardo’s hand reached up toward me, I felt the sinister presence of evil as it pushed closer. I was terrified, and I did not know what to do. No one had come for me. No one had saved me. Who could I cry out to? There was this horribly creepy killer, this mean goddess Hera, then Satan and now this evil entity boy. My life was worse now than I ever could have imagined. Yet I still thought I was alive. 

Why would God keep me alive? I still saw things, I still felt pain. I wanted to write songs. I still longed for a lover.  And maybe children someday. Why didn’t the light come closer to me, when I died? Why didn’t God send angels, or my long-dead Grandma Phyllis? 

The evil entity boy Eduardo grinned. He had perfect white teeth. 

“Come with me, Cara Mia. We are going to meet your soul mate.” The little boy voice was so high-pitched that it sounded like bad old 78 RPM vinyl record played a little too fast. Except he was speaking slowly. I used to listen to old Duke Ellington songs, like “Sophisticated Lady,” in my Grandpa Swift’s study at the lake in Upstate New York. Grandpa also had “elocution” lessons on an old vinyl recording. I used to listen and practice talking like a rich girl from the 1940s when I was little. I thought it made my singing clearer. My notes were more pure. 

In those days, the too-fast voices on the old fashioned record player used to make me and my brother squeal with laughter. Now, this similar voice wasn’t funny. It was terrifying.

“Come along, Cara Mia.” Eduardo said, staring at my reaction, and the evil grin widened. “You’ll love him, this new fellow. I’ll show you all about how to make him love you. Satan is giving you the best life possible.”

Then that evil mouth paused, as if for effect, and said:

“His name is Daith.”