​Witch Hunt

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   I stared at Stan, my cameraman, as I did my best to ignore the bright light of his video camera, and I plastered a smile on my face before I started my broadcast.

   “Good evening and thank you for joining us for our special Halloween edition of Witch Hunt. I’m Juliet Brennen, your host, and tonight we are visiting the famous Edgewood House, the dwelling that was known to be the home of Sophie Edgewood, better known as the Witch of Witherston. We chose this night to film here because it’s believed that the Witch of Witherston returns to her home on Halloween.

   “But before we search for any witches, let me tell you about Sophie Edgewood.

   “It’s rumored that Sophie Edgewood lived in this house for well over a hundred and thirty years. Now, you and I both know the average life expectancy of a human being, but it’s believed that Sophie Edgewood was a very powerful witch with the ability to live way beyond the average life expectancy of everyone else. In fact, it’s rumored that thanks to her powerful magic, she still lives today and that she’s so powerful, she has the ability to make herself invisible and live among us.

   “Before we step inside, I want to point out the front door. This door handle resembles a snake striking. Look closely at the detail, as if this was a real, live snake suddenly turned to copper. I understand Sophie kept this door handle to ward off strangers or nosy people. Just…don’t let the snake bite you as we step inside.

   “My, this door is heavy. I suppose this was another deterrent to keep people out of her home. And that loud creaking sound when I pushed the door open, that was real, too. Our sound people didn’t add in any sound effects.

   “Oh, look at this place. Can I get a pan of this entire room, please?

   “Thank you, Stan.

   “With how old and unused it appears in here, one would think it would smell musty and maybe even moldy. Look at all the dust and cobwebs. However… It smells like cinnamon, as if someone has been baking something delicious.”

   “You all know Stan is my camera man. In case you all couldn’t hear him, he said the smell is making him hungry.

   “Yes, Stan, it makes me a little hungry, too.

   “And I know this isn’t a very big house, but I suppose Sophie Edgewood didn’t need a great deal of space to work her so-called magic. And I assure all you viewers out there, we have done nothing here. We have changed nothing, nor have we added any props. I understand this house is exactly the way Sophie Edgewood left it, when she was arrested all those years ago.

   “That cauldron over there in the fireplace—that is Sophie Edgewood’s original cauldron, from what I understand. That work table and those shelves with…whatever might be in those jars—they’re still just the way Sophie left them. The townspeople were—and still are—simply too superstitious to step foot in here and take anything, much less touch anything. It’s rumored that a teenager by the name of Garrett Forsythe, a young, talented artist, had bragged to his friends he planned to come out here and ‘decorate’ the place with his artistic graffiti. Garrett Forsythe snuck out of his parents’ house that night and was never seen or heard from again.

   “Several of Garrett’s friends confirmed the notion that Garrett planned to come here. His ‘artist’ bag that held his art supplies was also missing from his bedroom. Like Garrett, that bag has never been seen again. And I don’t see it here, either. Do you, Stan?”

   “In case you viewers couldn’t hear him, Stan said no.

   “Although I understand the police, after interviewing Garrett’s friends, did come here to investigate. Perhaps Sophie turned Garrett into a frog or a cat or something. The townspeople certainly believe she was, or still is, a powerful enough witch to cast such spells. Because according to the reports I read, the police came here to investigate, and found the house just as we are seeing it now. With no sign of Garrett or his art bag, I might add.

   “And then I heard something that wasn’t in any report.

   “I heard an urban legend that one of the policemen who stepped into this house, a local cop by the name of Bobby Peterson, actually took a souvenir from the house when they came looking for Garrett Forsythe. He and his partner had searched high and low for any signs of Garrett Forsythe. And found nothing. When they stepped outside and were moving back to their police car, Bobby Peterson had a sudden, fatal heart attack and fell dead on the walk mere yards from the front door. And here, clutched in Bobby Peterson’s dead hand was a marble pestle he’d stolen off the counter.

   “Policeman Bobby Peterson’s partner, Jim Grayson was smart enough to put the pestle back on the counter before the meat wagon even made its way here. And wherever you are, Jim Grayson, may I say that was good thinking on your part.

   “And right here on the counter is that said pestle. I, however, am going to stay safe and not touch it. Can you get a close up of this, Stan, so our viewers can get a good look?

   “Thank you.

   “The next thing I want to talk about is over here. It’s the counter where Sophie Edgewood mixed up her herbs and potions. I understand she often walked the nearby woods, mostly at night, gathering her plants and herbs. There must be a least forty or fifty jars and bowls of what looks like dried plants on the counter and the shelves. And I don’t see a single label. Magic or not, she had to be a pretty smart woman to remember each and every one of all those plants.

   “Then again, I don’t see a spell book of any type in here, either. So, if she really was witch who cast spells, she didn’t need to keep a recipe book. Stan, I know the lighting isn’t the best in here, but can you get some close-ups of some of these bowls and jars, too. Maybe some of our viewers can identify what some of these things are. To me, they all look like pot pourri.

   "And I’m sorry if I offend someone, I’m just being honest. All this stuff looks like dried weeds to me. Of course, I know it’s all been simply sitting here on the shelves for decades, but still.

   “Back to the story of Sophie Edgewood. So, a bit of background here. According to the reports I was able to ‘dig up’—pun intended—a young woman named Sophie Edgewood was listed in the census as living in this location in 1890. Her profession under that census was ‘healer.’ And by all accounts, she was a healer, providing herbal medicine to everyone in the surrounding towns. It is a statistical fact that in 1917 and 1918 when the Spanish flu was killing off thousands of people globally every day, no one here within a twenty-mile radius of this house even became ill.

   “It was believed that Sophie Edgewood put special herbs or a spell of some sort into the very water that supplied the community, and it kept everyone safe and healthy.

   “I also found a report that stated in 1949, Edward and Susan Foster had a baby girl that arrived seven weeks early and that Sophie devised a potion to feed the tiny baby every day that helped her to thrive and grow. I understand that baby, Sarah Foster, grew up and married and had four children of her own, and is living and well in California.

   “Sarah, if you see this broadcast, we’d sure like to hear from you. You can contact us through our website of witchhunt.com.

   “Now, I know what most of you must be thinking.

   “That Sophie Edgewood was arrested for witchcraft, or perhaps the townspeople gathered against her because, well, she never seemed to age.

   “That wasn’t the case at all, according to the reports I was able to find.

   “It seems a man by the name of Hunter Scott—which is a bit ironic given the name of our show is Witch Hunt— but Hunter Scott was really his name. You can look him up if you don’t believe me. Anyway, he must have become infatuated with Sophie. I have the idea he became obsessed with her. No matter what she did, how often she turned down his appeal to court her or even take her to dinner, he refused to leave her be. When she refused his attention and began ignoring him completely, he became hateful to her and said nothing kind about her.

   “When a child named Barry Tanwell drowned in the Golden Creek, it was Hunter Scott who started the rumor that Barry Tanwell’s drowning was the result of something Sophie Edgewood did. Even though Sophie had nothing at all to do with the accident. As a matter of fact, this reporter has discovered a report that indicates little Barry was swimming with a group of tweens at night after sneaking out of his house. Apparently, he’d asked to go to the swimming party, and had been told no by his parents. But he went anyway. And when he didn’t resurface after diving down, his friends didn’t want to report him missing. So, his parents didn’t even know he’d snuck out and gone swimming and gotten caught in tree branches at the bottom of the swimming hole until the next morning when he didn’t show up for breakfast.

   “Within days, Hunter Scott told everyone he met, he was certain witchy Sophie Edgewood must have had something to do with that boy’s drowning, especially since Barry was known to be an expert swimmer.

   “And well, the town needed someone to blame.

   “Sophie was ‘investigated.’ And the investigation was led by Hunter Scott. I have reason to believe Hunter Scott approached her and made her an ‘offer.’ If she slept with him, he’d see to it the ‘witch hunters’ no longer hunted her.  And life could go back to being normal, the way it was before Barry died.

   “Well, Sophie was an honorable person, more honorable than Hunter Scott was, and refused anything Hunter Scott offered. And within a year, Sophie was on trial for ‘murdering’ a little boy who drowned by accident. Just like the Salem Witch Trials where so many people were hanged instead of admitting to something that was untrue, Sophie was hanged during the summer solstice in 1955.

   “And her house has remained just as she left it when she was arrested.

   “So, what you all see here, dear viewers, is exactly what Sophie saw before she was taken out of this house in shackles. And that is the story of Sophie Edgewood.

   “But as you all know, there is always more to the story.

   “For it’s believed Sophie didn’t die when she was hanged. It’s believed that—due to her powerful witch magic—not only did she live, but she returned to this very house and she continues to return to it often. Especially on Halloween. Even though she’d have to be well over a hundred and thirty years old.”

   “Now, Stan? Have you seen any witches while we’ve been here?”

   “No? Me, either, although this has certainly been a fun, creepy house to explore, wouldn’t you agree?”

   “In case you couldn’t hear him, Stan agreed with me.

   “And there is more to the story. Exactly a year to the day following her hanging, Hunter Scott, himself, drowned in Golden Creek.

   “And yes, even though it’s been seventy years since her hanging, it’s rumored Sophie watches over this house and keeps out any trespassers like Garrett Forsythe. Some people even believe she still protects the people of this town, especially the descendants of those who didn’t prosecute her in 1955. And, of course, her magic is strongest and powerful on Halloween night.”

   I smiled broadly and was quiet for a long moment as I let all that I’d just reported sink in.

   “And that’s the story of Sophie Edgewood. We hope you enjoyed exploring her house and learning her story, even though we didn’t see any sign of her. Or anyone besides ourselves.

   “Thank you for joining us for this special Halloween episode of Witch Hunt. Join us next time as we investigate Gordon Manor where supposedly young women were tortured and executed for witchcraft in the previous century.”

   I continued to smile broadly for another moment until Stan stopped rolling and the light of his camera went off, sending us both into the gloom of the house.

   Stan commented this was a very cool house which made for an awesome episode, and he asked how I’d discovered it.

I replied as usual, through research.

   He pulled the heavy door open, and I followed him out into the cool, late-fall night. The door seemed to speak to us with the loud creak it let out as he pulled it closed again behind us. He said he’d let me know when he had the video edited and uploaded. I thanked him as we made our way to our respective cars. He asked if I’d be all right to drive home in the dark by myself. We were, after all, out in the middle of nowhere. I assured him I’d be fine. He told me he looked forward to checking out the Gordon Manor. I said I was, too.

   I started my car and pretended to be checking my phone as he drove off. As soon as he was gone, I drove to the small garage near the side of the house that couldn’t be seen from the road. Once in the garage, I killed the engine again and made my way back to the front of the house. I was exceptionally careful not to step on the large toad that sat on the front porch. 

   The door wasn’t as hard to open as the previous time on camera or when Stan opened it. That was just part of the magic.

   I stepped into the house and swept my hand around. Candles lit up my home, filling it with light and warmth. The dust and cobwebs were instantly gone. The cinnamon rolls I had baking in the oven were almost done. And every jar and bowl on the shelves in my work area were properly labeled with the beautiful labels I artistically created for each one as they should be.

   I filled the kettle with water and placed it on the stove to heat for a cup of tea as a black cat came close and brushed against my ankles.

   “Hello, Garrett,” I said.

   I reached down and scratched his ears, and he purred.

   Garrett meowed three times, and I understood him well. “Yes, of course, I saw that Stan stole my pestle and put it in his camera bag. Don’t worry. I managed to swipe it back.” I pulled it from my pocket and set it in my mortar where it belonged.

   I poured hot water into a pretty cup to steep my tea before I used a hot mitt to remove the cinnamon rolls from the oven. I breathed in the rich scent of cinnamon. “Mmmm, perfect.”

   Garrett meowed again.

   “Yes, I’ll feed you while I wait for these to cool. And no, I’m not sure what I’ll do to Stan because he stole from me. I hate to give him a heart attack. It’s so hard to find good, honest help these days. I suppose I could allow him to find a live snake in his camera bag when he searches for the pestle. That’s an idea.”

   I blew on my cinnamon roll to cool it before taking a delicious bite. “I’ll think about what to do about his thievery as I enjoy my tea and cinnamon roll. I’ll have to see how he does with his edit job first.”

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And #2:  

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Back from the Dead

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It was the vacation of a lifetime. It was my vacation of a lifetime. I saved for three straight years to have enough to pay for the two-week Halloween island cruise, the plane fare to get there and get home, and all the separate packages and excursions, such as the complete all-you-can-drink package and a special excursion on every cruise stop. I even splurged and parked in a special parking garage that included a shuttle to take me to the airport that dropped me off at my gate so I didn’t have to beg friends for a ride to and from the airport.

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And I paid for Aiden to go with me.

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Aiden is my husband.

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I know what you’re thinking. You’re wondering why I would even need to point out married couples go on vacations together and how I paid for him to join me on my vacation of a lifetime. The truth is after seven long years of marriage, I felt like our relationship had landed in something like stagnant waters.

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We’ve never had the best relationship anyway. I learned very fast and early that he can’t manage money. He spends his paycheck, and he buys what he wants when he wants it. I’m not saying we have to save every penny, but we damned well need to have enough of what I call rainy-day savings for a down payment for a car or enough for a new hot water heater or enough to pay a plumber if the toilet stops working. Because those things are things that suddenly stop working. And he just never saw much point in saving for things like that. So, little by little, despite living under the same roof, I separated from him, kind of. I kept my own money in my own account. I kept my car in proper working order. And never let him touch the keys or put his hands on the steering wheel. In the last year, I even started doing only my own laundry.

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I started doing my own…everything, really. We’re more like roommates than a married couple.

And this cruise was my last-ditch effort to accomplish two of three things. Number one, it was going to be the vacation of a lifetime, as I said before. Number two, it was either going to be the bridge that brought Aiden and me back together or number three, it would show me exactly how much we should truly separate.

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And for the first twelve days of the cruise, I thought for we were closer to number two, the bridge, because well, I thought we felt reconnected.

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We did at least one or two things together every day. The excursions on the islands were beautiful. Several times, we ate lunch on a white-sand beach while the surf swept up over our toes. We drank countless sweet, wonderful drinks out of coconuts. At night, we either danced the night away, or took in a Broadway show, or enjoyed special Halloween Hauntings. There were haunted ‘houses’ with ghosts and goblins and witchy buffets or what was called monster parties. I welcomed the sunrise with yoga on the top deck, and a few times, Aiden joined me, actually doing yoga poses. We laughed as we rode water slides. We enjoyed a breakfast of bloody Marys and French toast cut in the shapes of ghosts and witches’ hats on our cabin balcony. A few nights were filled with dress-up dinners and star-lit walks on the deck. Aiden didn’t join me for all of it, but for a good part of it. Sometimes he was off doing something he enjoyed while I sat on a lounge beside one of the pools on the ship or enjoyed a culinary demonstration.

Every day was perfect and spooky fun. Every night was magical and beautiful, even if Aiden wasn’t with me.

We had two days left, and I had something very special planned for the next day which would be our last beach excursion. Aiden insisted we take a midnight ‘stroll’ around the deck. The stars overhead sparkled like diamonds and looked close enough to touch. I wore a white sundress that made me feel like a goddess under the moonlight. We paused and stood at the rail. I told Aiden I had something important to tell him.

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To my surprise, he told me he had something important to tell me, too.

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Then he blurted out he had a girlfriend. He said he planned to be with her. Needless to say, I was surprised.

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Did he want a divorce, I asked.

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To my further shock, he said no. After all, a divorce would leave him with nothing. I owned the house. I had the savings accounts. If I left, chances were everything, or at least most everything, would go with me. Besides, divorces were costly and time consuming. And he didn’t have the time. Or the money. His girlfriend was pregnant. And it was too damned bad I didn’t know how to swim.

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Just like that, he grabbed me. The next thing I knew, I was flying over the rail and falling.

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Falling. Falling. Falling.

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I know it was mere seconds that I fell the length from the upper deck to the water. Yet, it felt as it all happened in slow motion. It was enough time for me to feel rage over my terror as I stared up at the rail. Despite the shadows of the ship, I saw Aiden for a moment, surrounded by stars. It was enough time for me to know how I needed to move and position myself. If there was one thing I’d learned in the past year—which I didn’t think I’d ever need to know given I don’t like to dive, I might add—it was the position I needed to be in to cut into the water when it came to a high dive so that I didn’t die.

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It was enough time for me to think I was going to die.

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And it was just enough time for me to maneuver into the life-saving position. Then I dove—although it felt as if I crashed—into the water and into the darkness. The landing might have been in water, but the impact was enough cause pain and knock the air from my lungs.

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And…

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I didn’t die.

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Still, my entire body hurt all over as I struggled in the water, and I thought my lungs were going to burst as I kicked my way to the surface. I broke the surface and sucked in a breath, my head pounding and my vision blurry. With the oxygen came several realizations as my vision cleared.

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In the short time I was under water, the cruise ship moved on without me. We’d been standing near the stern. So, it wasn’t as if the ship slipped past me. I was already behind it by the time I hit the water. It was now a distance away and continuing to leave me. No amount of screaming on my part was going to be enough for anyone on board to hear me.

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My husband—the man who vowed seven years ago to love, honor, and cherish me— just tried to kill me. Murder me.

Hell, I would have let him go without a fight. And now I knew I was in for the fight of my life.

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A baby? He was having a baby with some unknown girlfriend? He told me he never wanted kids. Kids did nothing but cost money and make messes. And yet he was willing to become a murderer for one.

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Prick. My single word was lost to the night as the lights of the cruise ship floated away.

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My surprise for Aiden was that I’d learned to swim and at the next day’s beach, I had paid for the snorkeling and water exploration excursion for the two of us. I was now glad I’d spent the entire past year learning everything there was to know about water safety. I stopped wasting time and started swimming. I was thankful the night ocean was calm. Things could have been so much worse.

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I planned to thank Aiden for underestimating me.

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But first I had to get to a place where I could do that, and the middle of the ocean wasn’t the place.

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I knew the ship should reach the next beach by three a.m., less than three hours from now. I still saw the lights of the ship. I knew I could swim a mile because I’d practiced that. I knew I could tread water for one hour, because I’d had to do that to get my swimming certificate at the pool where I took lessons. This was going to be the ultimate test, and I knew once I got started, I’d better not stop. I also knew I wasn’t anywhere near as fast as the cruise ship, but all I needed was to see the lights in the darkness so I wasn’t wasting my time or my energy going in the wrong direction. I really thought if I kept my head in the game and kept my pace even, I could reach the next excursion beach by mid-day. Provided I didn’t get eaten by a shark or a whale.

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I was surprised how fast fatigue came over me.

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I didn’t dare stop to rest, but I slowed my pace just a bit and pulled in extra oxygen.

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I concentrated on my sudden hate for Aiden and his faceless pregnant girlfriend and let that hate fuel my muscles.

It was like walking and putting one foot in front of the other. Only it was swimming and putting one stroke in front of the other. All I had to do was picture Aiden with a baby. I didn’t deserve to die alone in this vast ocean while he enjoyed a homewrecker and a baby—something he never wanted with me.

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I didn’t count on the heat of the morning sun. I did my best to ignore the way it burned me.

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I didn’t think about the dehydration until I was panting and felt my lips crack open.

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The most I’d swum at swim lessons was two hours—with breaks, of course, in a pool where I could touch bottom any time I paused. This was another reason why I didn’t dare stop swimming. I knew the moment I stopped and moved my legs down vertical and didn’t touch any familiar, comforting bottom support, I would lose it.

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And I couldn’t afford to do that. Not now. No, I wasn’t giving up. Not after hours of giving it everything I had.

My eyes burned when I looked up and forward searching for the cruise ship. The air seemed to shimmer. I saw a dot on the horizon, assumed and hoped it was the ship and kept moving my arms and kicking my legs. I felt myself shriveling up, drying up. My mouth felt like it was filled with cotton.

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All this water, and I couldn’t drink a drop.

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My hate for Aiden grew with each swim stroke, although I had to mentally remind myself to swim and breathe. I ignored my thirst. I ignored my muscle cramps. I planned to have Aiden’s bags packed and placed at the curb when I got home.

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My arms ached. I didn’t stop. I kicked through more cramps in my calves and in my toes.

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A splash of ocean water went into my mouth. I spit and breathed in deeply several times to keep from puking. I couldn’t afford that. I would never again take a simple drink of water for granted.

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I felt myself slowing. Every muscle in my body burned. I felt my body shutting down, unable to continue, like marathon runners who collapse a few yards before the finish line.

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“No…No…Please…” I let out. At least, I think I spoke those words. My mouth and throat were so dry, I’m not sure I could utter a word. I couldn’t let my body betray me like this, not after the distance I’d already covered. I was surprised to find tears fill my eyes. I thought I’d be too dehydrated for tears. I envisioned I looked like a raisin. It was certainly how I felt.

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Then I realized I heard more than the sloshing of waves and my own heart beating in my ears.

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I heard people.

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Was it a mirage?

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Was it my imagination?

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No, there it was—the beach, land, and the cruise ship.

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For the first time in hours, I felt a surge of energy. I was going to make it.

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I did make it. I wanted to cry at the feel of sand under my feet. I wanted to lay on the beach and just sleep as the surf rolled over my legs. I felt like shouting to everyone that my husband tried to murder me. But then as I lay on the soft, wet sand and allowed my body to rest, I saw him. I saw them.

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Aiden and his girlfriend. She was a redhead who didn’t look pregnant in the bikini she wore. They were snorkeling.

It was the second time in less than a day I thought I might die.

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Again, I did not.

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I had no idea how to confront him. Should I go up to him now and show him he didn’t kill me? Should I go to the captain and report what he did? It was his word against mine. I know I had to look like shit, but he could say I fell, and he did his best to save me. He could feed the authorities any story, and they just might believe him.

I had to think about my next move.

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I forced myself to my feet, determined to at least get back on the cruise ship where I could hydrate and think clearly about what I should do. My legs were shaky but held me, and I made my way toward the long deck leading to the ship. I’d lost my flip flops, obviously when I hit the water after my dive. Thank goodness the deck wasn’t too hot. I didn’t know how I was going confront my ‘loving husband,’ but I did know I planned to carefully sip some liquid IV and sleep.

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A man wearing a flowered shirt, wet swim trunks, and flip flops walked ahead of me. He turned back, saw me, and stared for a long moment as I searched my foggy brain for an excuse as to why I must look like death warmed over.

Then he grinned as if he just got the meaning of a joke or a bright idea came to mind and he confirmed I must be wearing my costume for the evening’s zombie party, right? He thought it was an awesome idea to wear my clothes in the ocean and let the salt water dry on me. He said he might do the same thing.

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He said I really looked like I was back from the dead.

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Funny, I actually felt that way, too. I jokingly asked him if he could really see me, as if I was a ghost.

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He laughed. I laughed, too.

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And just like that the idea came to me about how I to confront my husband. Maybe I could get him to confess, and I wouldn’t have to report a thing.

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My fake grin matched his, and I agreed that was exactly what I was doing, putting together my zombie party costume. I put in that I just needed to add a bit more make up.

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He told me I was a beautiful zombie. I thanked him sweetly.

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Around my neck, I still wore the lanyard that held my ship key card. I had been wearing it last night and had swum all that distance not even noticing it was still there. It held all my personal information, my credit card information, the excursions I’d purchased, and it worked as a key card for our cabin. The man in the flowered shirt told the cruise ship attendant who was checking people back onto the ship that I was just completing my zombie attire for the evening’s party. The attendant scanned my ship card that would show I returned to the ship. But he was too busy with the mother of crying child who had a skinned knee to care about my ‘zombie costume,’ or about the fact that I hadn’t been scanned departing earlier.

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Aiden and his friend hadn’t appeared to be in any hurry to return to the ship. Of course, with pregnancy, I suppose anything could happen. I hoped the two of them enjoyed the beach for a while longer while I did a bit of ‘haunting.’

The air conditioning of the interior of the ship felt like heaven and almost made me shiver with my evident sunburn.

I said nothing to anyone as I headed to the cabin I had shared with Aiden. But I grabbed three bottles of water from a bucket filled with bottles of water and ice. Knowing the last thing I needed to do was chug a bottle of water and get sick, I opened one and took a sip. Cold water felt more like heaven than the air conditioning. I held one of the unopened bottles to the back of my neck as I opened the cabin door and slipped inside.

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The small room already looked foreign, and I felt like an intruder. Aiden had moved things around, had packed my suitcase and set it in the corner. He was more than a murdering prick. Did he plan to report me missing at all? Or did he plan to just create a new life with someone else?

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I took another sip, allowing the water to get absorbed instead of settling in the bottom of my stomach.

I stepped into the small bathroom. Aiden had packed up all my make up and toiletries into my bag and set it aside. He obviously didn’t expect me back.

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I hardly recognized my own reflection in the mirror. My skin was burned pink and flushed appearing, but dried out at the same time. My eyes were sunken and surrounded by dark circles. My lips were cracked and there was even dried blood on them. I hadn’t even tasted that.

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I sipped the rest of the bottle of water as I unpacked all my toiletries and set them back out on the counter as I’d left them previously. I used eye shadow to make the circles around my eyes darker. I opened the second water bottle and sipped as I used my finger to write a message on the mirror above the sink. We had both discovered in the past two weeks the bathroom was so tiny, it didn’t matter if we showered for one minute or twenty. The mirror fogged up. And I wanted to make certain there was a message there when it fogged up when Aiden showered after his snorkeling fun.

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By the time I finished the second bottle of water, I felt less brain fog. The exhaustion was growing, and the bed looked so welcoming. I didn’t dare sit down on it for fear I wouldn’t be able to get back up again.

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Instead, I moved things around in the cabin.

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Aiden took medication for his blood pressure, his cholesterol, and a heart arrhythmia every night before bed. I moved all three pill bottles to the small table on what had been my side of bed instead of his where they’d been for this cruise since day one. On my bedside table since day one, I’d always had a bottle of water in case I woke in the night with a dry mouth. I saw he’d evidently thrown that away. So, I replaced it with the half empty bottle I was sipping before I opened the third bottle and took a sip. I moved one of his sneakers and placed it just inside bathroom door where he’d trip on it. I considered throwing some of his clothes on the floor, but changed my mind since throwing his clothes on the floor wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary for him. Besides, I wanted him to think I was back from the dead, not just back.

​

The bed was made and the towels on it were folded to look like two swans.

​

I moved the heads of the swans to make it appear they both had broken necks.

​

I wondered what to do with my keycard. As long as I had it with me, Aiden could find me wherever I was, and I had considered using it to buy a new pair of fancy flip flops. Suddenly, I didn’t care if Aiden knew where I was. The minute I saw him, I planned to be the ghost he wanted me to be, and I planned to tell everyone on the entire ship how he tried to kill me.

​

My cell phone was still on the small table where I’d left it before our fateful deck stroll. I took it, and left our cabin. I bought the cutest flip flops and a new hat and didn’t care about the price while I drank a bottle of liquid hydration. I continued to get compliments on my awesome zombie costume. I found a lounge chair that was a bit out of the way where I still felt the air conditioning. I finally allowed myself to lie down and rest. I covered up with a beach towel and placed the new hat over my face as if I was protecting myself from the sun.

​

I set the alarm on my cell, knowing if I didn’t, I’d certainly sleep through the party.

​

Sleep came to me but wasn’t as restful as I hoped it would be. The nightmare of having water rush over my head was never ending. I had always been afraid of the water. Then over the past year I learned to swim, and I loved it. Now I wasn’t so sure how I felt about stepping into a pool.

​

The alarm jarred me awake, and I actually felt worse than I had before I went to sleep. I was twenty-four hours without food, but at least I was better hydrated.

​

Hidden within my new hat, I sat in one of the chairs situated by a small table at the end of the hall beyond our cabin door and carefully munched a turkey sandwich with another bottle of water. The food tasted wonderful. When I saw no sign of Aiden for some time, I worried I’d missed him, that he already came and showered to get ready for the zombie party while I slept. Then again, maybe he and Miss Maybe-Pregnant weren’t going to the zombie party. Maybe he was treating her to a quiet dinner somewhere. Maybe they were going to fill their evening with a stroll around the deck, given how much Aiden enjoyed strolling with me.

​

Just when I considered having a member of the cruise ship staff locate Aiden’s keycard to tell me where he was, he came rushing out of our cabin.

​

His hair was wet and his feet were bare. He looked frightened and he rushed down the hall away from me to a door three doors down from ours. He beat on the door and called out to Tiffany.

​

So, Miss Maybe-Pregnant’s name was Tiffany and she was enjoying the cruise just three doors down from our cabin, which now left me wondering if Aiden slipped out to visit her at night while I was sleeping.

​

From this distance, and because I tried to stay discreet hiding behind my new hat, all I could see of Tiffany was a flash of her red hair. But I heard Aiden’s words loud and clear as he called her Tif—like it was a nickname of love. Then in a trembling voice, he told her he thought his dead wife was haunting him.

​

Tiffany replied that it had been five years since his ‘wife’ died. She called him honey. Then assured him that his dead wife of five years wouldn’t be on this cruise to haunt him.

​

I swallowed. So that prick told his girlfriend I’d been dead five years not eighteen hours?

​

I wanted to kill him. I really did. I watched as Tiffany put her arms around Aiden to comfort him and told him to come into her cabin while she finished getting ready for the zombie party.

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As soon as the door closed, I rushed back to the cabin I’d shared with him where I used a towel to wipe the word MURDERER off the mirror along with all the condensation just in case Tiffany returned with him to see the haunting evidence.

​

I noticed everything I’d moved was put back to where it had been previously. Aiden’s pill bottles were laying on their sides, as if he’d hastily thrown them there.

​

I didn’t stick around. I left and found a back-corner seat in the lounge where the zombie party was in full swing. Zombies, ghouls, a few ghosts, a vampire, and even a couple of monsters with bolts in their necks danced and drank, some doing both at the same time.  I watched the door, and a short time later, I wasn’t disappointed to see Aiden walk in with a pale, zombie-looking Tiffany on his arm. Aiden didn’t look like he needed make up. He was pale and evidently filled with apprehension.

​

Tiffany pulled him to the dance floor, held her arms around him and forced him to sway with the Halloween music.

I left my seat and drew closer, staying behind other dancers.

​

It helped that he was already on edge. He looked around, searching for a ghost.

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When I knew he was looking my direction, I leaned to my left and met his gaze.

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Then I moved out of his line of sight.

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He jumped away from Tiffany and almost fell backwards.

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Instead of laughing as I wanted to do, I leaned another way where he saw me, and I gave him a big, “BOO!”

​

Then he did fall backward, landing hard on his ass. He started yelling, “You’re dead! You’re dead!”

​

At first everyone around thought it was part of the gig, part of the ‘zombie’ party where everyone was supposed to be dead. But when he kept yelling it, and he shoved Tiffany away when she tried to help him, the music stopped. And he had everyone’s attention.

​

Before I could say anything, he pointed to me and yelled that I was dead. I had to be dead. After all, he’d pushed me over the rail last night. He knew I had to be dead. He made sure I splashed into the water, and he knew I couldn’t swim.

​

He was hysterical.

​

Tiffany tried to console him, but he sat up and kept yelling louder how he’d killed me. He admitted he killed me for her.

​

Suddenly he gasped for air.

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He grabbed at his chest.

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Then he fell backwards again. His head smacked the floor with a loud, satisfying crack.

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For a moment, the room was utterly silent. Then Tiffany started screaming that Aiden wasn’t breathing. There was more yelling for someone to get a doctor, and who knows CPR?

​

I watched for a few minutes. With every second that ticked by, I knew his chances of resuscitation decreased. Funny how sometimes the trash takes itself out.

​

I went back to our cabin and took a quick shower. It was wonderful to finally wash off my ‘zombie’ costume. I felt sorry for Tiffany. She’d been lied to, just as I had, but I couldn’t help her. And later, I was enjoying some grilled chicken in the buffet when the captain came to tell me my husband had died of a heart attack at the zombie dance.

I, of course, could act like a grieving widow just as I could a zombie.

​

I might someday really grieve, but right then I was too angry.

​

Cruise staff helped me make arrangements to have Aiden returned home. Tiffany was flabbergasted to see Aiden had a living wife. Apparently, they’d been together for some time, and he’d purchased her cruise ticket. Maybe he did know how to save a little money. I acted like I had no idea who she was. Nothing was said about Aiden’s hysterics where he accused me of being dead. The captain did ask about Aiden confessing of pushing me over the rail of the deck. I shrugged and said I didn’t know what he was talking about. I didn’t need to go back there. I wasn’t sure anyone would believe me, anyway, and I didn’t know how many cans of worms that story might open.

​

I was amazed at the paperwork required when someone died at sea.

​

We docked the next day. I disembarked from the cruise ship that had been my dream vacation, but had become my nightmare vacation. At least, I’d had fun for a good part of it. And at least, I was able to step off of it, unlike Aiden who was being wheeled off in a body bag.

​

I looked back.

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And there at the top of the gangplank was Aiden, looking pale and ghostly transparent. No one else seemed to see him. I never believed in ghosts, but now I do. He wasn't alone. He was on the deck with countless other ghostly strangers. He looked angry, as well as I thought he would be. He had tried to murder me to be free of me. Now it looked like his ghost was stuck in my nightmare vacation forever.

​

I turned and walked away, free and back from the dead. Off to rest, recuperate, and plan my next vacation.