I was floating next to her, in the solitude of the busy streets.
That was something I never liked, to blend with the crowd; but I disliked the contrary as well. It just felt wrong to pretend to be a normal and neutral person, but letting your true self is an unsightly scene for the masses; the drunken man, the prostitute, the homeless, the mad man, all those are simply ignored. Hermione wasn't though; a solemn ambiance eradiated from her entire being, and those who stood next to her were visibly uncomfortable by feeling it. This added a tremendous weight to my already guilty mind.
Some moment later, deeply sinking into her seat amidst the tired passengers of the evening subway, her eyes were locked on the note I had written; her lips were very lightly swaying restlessly while her furrows were arched up in the same unobtrusive manner. One-hand as always on the necklace, the other was patting the scrap of paper on which her attention was dedicated. Seemingly pensive and full of sorrow, she closed her eyes before falling into a shallow slumber. I thought the oscillations of the rails were slowly contaminating her with drowsiness. After several minutes, the train arrived at its destination before letting out the commuters who were all eager to finally go home. On their way out, someone had the kindness to wake up Hermione; I could've done it, but having incorporeal hands didn't help.
Fiercely clutching her shoulder bag, her bright mood emerged back to let her advance through the crowd and join her daughter. I looked up at a nearby watch to realize how late she was: it was about 7 p.m. She hurried and finally reached the second story of a tall building whereupon she took out her keys and entered in. The best description I'd say of the place was normal, but it had a weird charm to it; maybe it was peacefulness, or just commodity, or a positive dullness. The entrance door directly led to the living room, a small place filled with an old couch by appearance, a normal-sized TV, some half-empty shelves, a table with childish drawings and cups on it, and two windows with shut curtains.
Going back to the living room, Edalynn was sitting on the floor and drawing on the table under the TV and the bulb's slightly dim light, already in her pajamas. The little girl was about 7 or 8 if I wasn't mistaken and in 3rd grade. In the messages that were sent to me, Hermione praised how behaved she was and how much it was a joy for her mother. Eda, as people called her, had a particular affinity with art as well, which Hermione said to have arisen by the time she was 4 or so since her mother was still painting back then. As for school, she had good grades, maybe amid the 10 first in rank of her class; she was definitely a good girl. What was less good was the absence of her father, which the mother hardly mentioned in her texts, not that I wouldn't ask anyway. But the little girl was obviously alone at home when her mother came back; that was a fair hint to how present the other parent was.
"Heya, I'm home sweetie!"
"Mom! Welcome back!" shouted Eda in a sharp cute voice. "Where were you?"
"I… I went to see an old friend. Remember Eddie?"
"You always speak of him. Your high-school crush, right?" teased the little girl.
"My, stop saying embarrassing stuff," replied the mother in an overdramatic tone. "But yeah, I went to see him."
"How did it go? You talked about the good ol' time?"
"Something along those lines. But look what he brought us," Hermione took out the note from her bag and gave it to Eda.
At first, she had a problem reading it (probably because of my hand writing) given her puzzled look, but she quickly overcame the challenge. A gigantic smile erupted on her face and on her mother's; an immense wave of warmth overwhelmed the room, maybe even the entire building.
"Is this for real?! Mom! Wow, you're like the greatest artist on earth now!" the little girl's voice could have pierced a glass.
"Right? So why don't we celebrate that? Today, we can have any number of pizza, burger, fries, nuggets, or cake you'd like!"
"We're rich!" Eda was showing-off with that sentence. Her cute tone made me laugh a little. Then, she suddenly stopped and wondered, "wait, which painting did you sell?"
"An old one. Don't worry about that."
"Can I see it?"
"Well, Eddie broke it… but I might make it again to show you, how about that?"
"Mom's gonna paint again! If you want, I can help you! I just learned how to draw in 3D."
"Wow! Art's running in the family," gleefully added Hermione. "Can you show me what you drew today?"
Eda clumsily ran toward the table before the couch, ransacked through the many drawings on it, and showed her mother a collection of volumes: all kinds of cubes, pyramids, tetrahedrons, spheres… Even I was impressed by the precision in her strokes; she indeed was Hermione's daughter. The latter smiled even more intensely as seeing Eda's talent before patting her on the head.
"These are amazing! Would you like to expose them?"
"You can do that at work?" confusedly asked the little girl.
"Hmm, right. I'll see what I can do. So, what will be for dinner?"
"Doughnuts! Doughnuts! Doughnuts!"
"Doughnuts don't make a proper meal," scolded the mother. You can have some for desserts, but it's a no-go for dinner."
"Mom's cooking then! I wanna eat Mom's mac 'n cheese!"
"Mac 'n cheese it is! I wonder if some markets still take command at this hour though," she stopped her sentence and seemed to think a little. "Hey Eda, wanna come with me to the convenience store?"
At her mother's suggestion, she very rapidly rushed to what I supposed to be her room. Within few seconds, she was back out of her pajamas and in full casual attire to go with Hermione; the latter laughed at her ridiculous speed.
But as they were going out and I followed them, what remained of my spectral body gradually vanished into nothing; I could distinguish my hands and all before, but they were now becoming transparent. The light sensations I could feel were very rapidly decaying with my limbs before reaching my head.
Then, I felt a tremendous void.
My senses were gone, as my being, but I could feel a void filled with writhing, living, derisive shadows. Then, a figure emerged from the depth of darkness: Death. As careful as before, her left profile was well-hid amidst her surroundings. Her robe was oddly bright and even igniting a vibrant white which was only absorbed by the omnipresent obscurity. As always, a mischievous smile was hanging on her visible face, full of teasing and malice.
"Thy time amongst the livings hath elapsed. How dost thou feel now? Hollow, deceived, full of lament and regret, doleful, aggrieved, miserable?" she playfully asked as adding an emphasis on the last one.
"I wanna go back," I replied. Though not having a mouth to speak, the words came out.
"Return? Thou hast already had thy turn. There is no return."
"No, no… I wanna see her again… beg her forgiveness… love her," I firmly said.
"Thy words have already echoed through this place many times. Dost thou think that no deceased had preached thy sayings? Thou art well ignorant."
"I'm not stupid, please! Let me stay with her! I have to fix my errors."
"But wilt thou? Thou hast repaired nothing by thy living, why upon thy death?"
"I…" words were falling inside my mind. She was right: I didn't do it by the time I was still alive, why would it be different. But I was persuaded by the contrary.
"Thy final end is near, solely accept it. There is nothing to repair, it is all too late."
"It's not!" I shouted back. "If you only gave me a chance, I'll definitely show you that what I've done can be changed!"
"Art thou convinced of that?... Be it! I shalt leave thee ten days to show me otherwise."
"Really?" I asked since such a generous offer seemed sketchy.
"Even better, I shalt release thy soul upon the mortal world; that is if thou succeed. How about this? If thou mend thy mistakes, thou shalt win another life; however, let us set some boundaries: thou art not allowed to divulge thy real identity to her," Hermione immediately came to my mind.
"Mend my mistakes? I'll take the deal," I hastily replied.
"Such hurriedness shalt lead thee to thy doom. Thou hast accepted by any means, the abyss awaiteth thee in ten days if thou fail."
As rapidly as she came forth, Death faded away with the surrounds. But a horrid realization came to my mind; I didn't know my mistakes, or rather, I kept not accepting them to the point of forgetting. More than that, I only had ten days to accomplish the due reparation, without letting know Hermione that I was back in existence, even though she was clearly involved with my blunders.
But my considerations were abruptly stopped; I opened my eyes to face a ceiling. I was back and laying on a bed. I turned around my head towards a clock and realized that the night has passed since I stayed with Hermione and Eda. I rushed my movement to stand up and a very nice apartment greeted me; whoever lived there must have a pleasant life without trouble, at least financially. What I supposed was now my bedroom was more than spacious and more than half of my old place. A nice bed, a full view of the city from the picture window, a bathroom next to my chamber, a large closet filled with suits and other expensive clothes, perfumes, watches, and sunglasses… The lower drawer had shoes of the same quality in it and the other one was filled with underwear; even rich people wear underwear, I thought to myself. Then, I hurried to see what would appear in the bathroom's mirror, to see my new appearance.
I would've never suspected who would have been before me: Edwin… Damn, I couldn't remember his full name. But I knew his face, and I've seen it recently: he came to my funerals as one of my old classmates. Ed (like the fellow pupil used to call him) was the popular kid back then; his nickname sure cast a shadow on my name, or rather, the shadow only grew bigger given how disconnected I was with the others in my class. He was in every clique, had loads of girls that liked him, plus, was friend with everyone (except me), was good at sports, good at studying and all: quite a contrast with my loner self. I actually wondered if this occurrence was just to amuse Death in our deal, some sort of metaphysical joke.
It seemed that the popular kid's fortune hadn't let him go since then; I eavesdropped on one or two discussions back at my obsequies, and he apparently ended as a successful entrepreneur. He was exposing by his sole presence half of the brightness in the room, and his charisma was noticed by more than one. I furrowed as seeing my new self; I obviously would've been awkward in Edwin's body and life, and without doubt suspicious. But it was what I was, it couldn't have been otherwise; maybe Death had motives (other than amusement) to put me in this man's life.
My punishment came back into my fresh mind; I had ten days to undo whatever I had committed. I rapidly dressed in the clothes that were available in the closet; I ended with a suit on my back and a feeling of uncomfortableness with it. I'd never wear such refined clothes, nor had any occasion do so; I was pretty fine with a tee-shirt and pants, and perhaps a sweater if it was chilly outside. I then hurried outside of my room and reached another spacious chamber which was the living room. I mentally tried to imagine a basketball match in it, and it really was possible; removing the large coach, the several ornaments, the upholsteries, and the tapestries, the dining table further away and other furniture would do the trick.
I still hastened and rampaged through the kitchen to find something to ease my hunger; my breakfast consisted of cornflakes and a glass of milk. Lingering would have wasted the precious time I had left, so eating was far from being my biggest concern. Though, it took me a moment to find my keys, my phone, and my ID accompanied with a driving card; it's been a while since the last time I drove, maybe around the time I was still with Hermione. We used to do some small road trips to see nature, which she would later make a painting of; I was driving, she was happily singing at whatever song was playing the radio. Growing up in the Midwest, most of her tableaux were fields, farms, roads, rundown houses, and such.
I took the keys, closed my door, and went down to the parking lot. I had no trouble finding my car and soon drove to Hermione's place; fortunately, I hadn't forgotten where she lived from the time I was a ghost, going back there wouldn't be a problem. But a troublesome thought came back; I couldn't reveal to her that it was her friend Edward in there (in the body). I discarded that interdiction off of my mind and continued to head towards her place; I guessed that I would have to improvise something once there, like "Hey! It's been a while! I didn't meet you at Edward's funerals so I asked the others is they knew where you were living", though it would seem shady. But whatever, I kept driving there with no fear.
Before going up to the second story, I bought a box of doughnuts; seeing how fond of these her daughter was, I thought it might help to get closer to Hermione. After that, I followed the path from my memory and arrived at her door. I was uneasy; even if I was someone else, meeting her again in flesh was stressing me out. The guilt and other regrets invaded me, but I threw them away to enjoy this encounter with my beloved. I pressed on the doorbell, waited for an eternity, and then another one, and the door finally opened slowly.
It was her.
The sight of her freckles on her lovely face reminded me of how much I loved her. And the way she was wearing her loose cardigan made me feel nostalgic.
Then, I gathered my might and opened my mouth.
"Why the fuck are you here?" she interrupted.
When Hermione was swearing, she was definitely pissed; I could easily count the number of swearing that came out of her mouth since our first meeting. She was pissed.
"Well, answer," she dryly added. "Will you finally take care of your daughter?"
"My daughter?" I muttered in confusion.
"Playing dumb, huh?" she retorted. "Get the fuck out of here if you don't want a lawsuit."
"I'm Edalynn's father?" I blatantly asked.
"After 8 years you still try to deny it?"
She slammed the door in my face. I was left alone in a corridor with a box of doughnuts as my sole friend. But my mind was falling apart: Edwin was Eda's father.
So it was a metaphysical joke. I hurried to the pub to get a drink.