LJ Idol Prize Fight: "Intermediary"
Jan. 9th, 2019 03:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
halfshellvenusIntermediary
idol prize fight | week 11| 1665 words
Long-distance dedication
~o~o~o~
When the first voice came to Sally Chalmers on a lonely November evening, she dropped the mug of tea she was holding. The mug exploded on the hardwood floor, leaving a puddle of shards and liquid behind, and embedding Sally's cat halfway up the living room drapes.
"(((Sally)))," the voice hummed through the house.
Sally, who was unaware of any history of mental illness in the family, decided the best approach to the probably-imagined voice was to ignore it and clean up the mess. She was prying Bertie off the drapes when the voice spoke again.
"I have a message for you to deliver," it said.
Sally was thirty-four, and had already suffered decades of people bumming rides off of her and asking her to look after their pets while they were on vacation. "Get lost," she said, going into the kitchen for a dustpan and a towel.
"You… refuse the honor of my summons?" the voice asked.
"If it's such an honor, then come back and ask me again in the daytime, instead of creeping around in the dark."
On the drive to work the next morning, the voice was back. "I have returned..."
Sally swerved the car. "Jesus Christ, not while I'm driving! Go away!"
The voice found Sally in the parking lot five minutes later. "Hello, Sally,"
"Oh, for crying out loud. Will you stop spying on me? And you can't talk to me when I'm out in public. People will think I'm crazy."
"Perhaps the office bathroom, then?"
"Ewwww. Especially not there!"
"But you are at work until after dark," the voice said.
"All right," Sally said. "You can come back tonight. But no sneaking up on me! Flicker a lamp a few times first, so I know you're there."
"Very well."
Hours later, Sally drove home for the evening. No sooner had she walked in the front door than the lamp on the entry hall table blinked off and on. Fine, whatever. "Just a second," she called out, as Bertie meowed and rubbed against her legs. She put down her coat and purse, kicked off her shoes, and went into the kitchen and put kibbles in Bertie's dish.
She petted Bertie as he ate. "All right, go ahead," she said.
"Greetings," the voice began. "I have an important message I need you to deliver to my wife."
"What are you, a ghost? Or a demon or something? How do I know you're even real?" Sally asked.
"I am the spirit of one who has passed on."
"So, a ghost," Sally said. "You could just talk to your wife, you know. Why involve me?"
"She cannot hear me. Few among the living can."
Sally opened the fridge and looked inside. "Okay, but why me? It's not like I have special psychic powers or anything."
"The fact that we are speaking right now says you do. And this message is urgent. The man my wife is dating is a swindler and a cheat."
Okaaaay. Sally closed the fridge. "And you expect me to what, call her on the phone or show up at her house and tell her that?" Sally asked. "She'll think I'm nuts. And she won't listen anyway."
"But I must warn her!
Sally thought for a moment. "Are you able to haunt? Have you tried it?"
"Haunt Gladys?" the ghost said. "Never!"
"No, no," Sally said. "Not Gladys. Haunt the boyfriend. When he's with her, or whenever he's in her house. He'll start to find her less and less appealing, and he'll leave."
"Oh." The ghost was quiet for a moment. "I think that might work…"
Sally waited for a minute, but there was nothing more. "You're welcome," she called out. Hello, talk about rude…
The next night, Sally was heating soup in the kitchen when a new ghost arrived.
"Voman!" it said.
"Aaahhhh!" Sally yelled, and threw the soup spoon into the air. Bertie skidded and scrambled across the floor as he ran off to hide.
"Hah hah! Good scare," the ghost chuckled. "Yes. So, now I tell you the thing—"
"Get out," Sally said.
"Vhat? No, I have job for you!"
"Come back when you've learned some manners—or don't come back at all."
Sally cleaned the soup splatter off the floor and counter, and coaxed Bertie out from under the bed. The rest of the evening was blissfully quiet.
Saturday morning, she was drinking her second cup of coffee and doing a crossword puzzle when the kitchen light flickered a few times. She paused and looked up.
"Hello," a new voice said. "Is now a good time?"
Finally. Sally put the pencil down. "Sure, go ahead."
"My name is Darryl James. Walter told me you helped him with his wife? So, I thought I'd try. I hid some important papers away years ago, but now my wife needs them and she doesn't know where to look. Can you help me?"
"I'm sure I can send her an anonymous note. Let me write down her name and address…"
More ghosts came over the next several weeks, pleading with her to contact their friends or families, or tie up unfinished business.
"I don't understand why you all have to drag me into your problems," Sally told one of them. "I do have a life, you know."
"If you say so," the ghost said. "Presumably. But if we could just get back my issue now…"
The demands for Sally's time grew more and more frustrating. She started to feel as if she had a second career as a personal counselor, except the job didn't pay anything and the clients were exhausting.
"You must carry this message through all the land," one ghost announced. "The end is near!"
"Oh, please," Sally said.
"Hubert, do be quiet!"
"Yes, Hubert. You are wasting valuable time, and I believe my turn was next…"
"No one wants to hear about the hidden bottles of brandy you left up and down the Eastern seaboard, Clarence."
"Really, Henrietta? And what of your unrequited longings for the gardener at your parents' estate?"
"All of you, shut up!" Sally said. "One ghost at a time, or everyone leaves."
Bertie was confused by the extra company. More people usually meant trouble, and people he couldn't see were even scarier. He hid behind the sofa, under the bed, and inside closets. Sally started to feel as if she hardly saw him anymore.
Sometimes, she heard from spirits who had come to her before. Walter, who had left without a thank you or a goodbye, returned a month later. "I wanted to tell you that you were right. I kept haunting the man my wife was dating, and he finally broke up with her. She's much safer now, so thank you."
"Good," Sally said. "I'm glad I could help."
But not all spirits were kind.
One night, Sally sat on the sofa with Bertie, a bowl of popcorn, and a glass of wine, ready to settle in. The living room lamp flickered shortly after eight o'clock.
"The Oscars are on, come back later," she said.
"Hey, I did the thing with the lights. What more d'you want?"
"Some common courtesy." Damn, George Clooney still looks fantastic.
"That was it, just now. So listen, I got a thing I wantcha to do."
"Go away," Sally said.
"Why should I? Which one of us here's the ghost?"
"That's it, I'm done. Get out!"
"Nah, I think I'll stick around 'til you do what I came for. Torment you, even, 'cause why not? I got nothing but time…"
Sally was still angry the next morning. Three more ghosts had showed up after the first one, none of them polite, and she was sick of the whole thing anyway. She'd researched options for dealing with her predicament before, but now she was ready to pull the plug.
She did some more internet checking at work, then took a lunch hour trip to an out-of-the-way occult shop called Fire and Bone.
The inside of the shop was dimly lit—a little creepier than Sally had bargained for, but she was desperate now. A young woman in Goth wear whose name tag said, "Raven", stood behind the counter. She looked up as Sally approached.
"Excuse me," Sally said. "Do you have anything to repel spirits?"
Raven raised a stud-pierced eyebrow at her. "What, like some kind of 'Ghost-Be-Gone' spray?"
"Do they make that?" Sally asked. "No, wait, of course they don't. But something that works like that, maybe?"
"This happens more often than you might think," Raven said. "What we usually recommend is a clearing ritual, or performing a healing ceremony at the house or apartment to persuade the ghost to leave."
"Oh," Sally said. "Well, it's not a problem with my house, exactly. It's a problem with me. I'm need a way to keep ghosts from bothering me."
"Poltergeists?" Raven asked. "Or are they manifesting? Or showing you things that upset you?"
"They can do that?"
"Oh, yes."
Maybe I got off easy, Sally thought. "Well no, it's more that I want to keep them from talking to me—or any other kind of communication. Or haunting me. Basically, I want to go back to being completely unaware of them. Maybe a magic amulet or something?"
Raven nodded. "I think I have exactly what you need."
That night, Sally came home to a quiet house where Bertie was the only thing waiting for her and all of the electronics behaved themselves. Bertie sniffed the new ring she wore, the one she would probably never take off again—not if she valued her independence and sanity.
Sally picked him up and hugged him, looking forward to uninterrupted evenings of reading, watching TV, and snuggling her fuzzy little friend.
"It's just you and me, Bertie."
"Mrrrrp," Bertie said. Something was clearly better, even if he didn't understand why.
Sally carried him into the kitchen.
"We should celebrate," she said.
"Let's see if we have anything special for dinner."
--/--
If you enjoyed this story, you can vote for it along with many other fine entries here.
idol prize fight | week 11| 1665 words
Long-distance dedication
~o~o~o~
When the first voice came to Sally Chalmers on a lonely November evening, she dropped the mug of tea she was holding. The mug exploded on the hardwood floor, leaving a puddle of shards and liquid behind, and embedding Sally's cat halfway up the living room drapes.
"(((Sally)))," the voice hummed through the house.
Sally, who was unaware of any history of mental illness in the family, decided the best approach to the probably-imagined voice was to ignore it and clean up the mess. She was prying Bertie off the drapes when the voice spoke again.
"I have a message for you to deliver," it said.
Sally was thirty-four, and had already suffered decades of people bumming rides off of her and asking her to look after their pets while they were on vacation. "Get lost," she said, going into the kitchen for a dustpan and a towel.
"You… refuse the honor of my summons?" the voice asked.
"If it's such an honor, then come back and ask me again in the daytime, instead of creeping around in the dark."
On the drive to work the next morning, the voice was back. "I have returned..."
Sally swerved the car. "Jesus Christ, not while I'm driving! Go away!"
The voice found Sally in the parking lot five minutes later. "Hello, Sally,"
"Oh, for crying out loud. Will you stop spying on me? And you can't talk to me when I'm out in public. People will think I'm crazy."
"Perhaps the office bathroom, then?"
"Ewwww. Especially not there!"
"But you are at work until after dark," the voice said.
"All right," Sally said. "You can come back tonight. But no sneaking up on me! Flicker a lamp a few times first, so I know you're there."
"Very well."
Hours later, Sally drove home for the evening. No sooner had she walked in the front door than the lamp on the entry hall table blinked off and on. Fine, whatever. "Just a second," she called out, as Bertie meowed and rubbed against her legs. She put down her coat and purse, kicked off her shoes, and went into the kitchen and put kibbles in Bertie's dish.
She petted Bertie as he ate. "All right, go ahead," she said.
"Greetings," the voice began. "I have an important message I need you to deliver to my wife."
"What are you, a ghost? Or a demon or something? How do I know you're even real?" Sally asked.
"I am the spirit of one who has passed on."
"So, a ghost," Sally said. "You could just talk to your wife, you know. Why involve me?"
"She cannot hear me. Few among the living can."
Sally opened the fridge and looked inside. "Okay, but why me? It's not like I have special psychic powers or anything."
"The fact that we are speaking right now says you do. And this message is urgent. The man my wife is dating is a swindler and a cheat."
Okaaaay. Sally closed the fridge. "And you expect me to what, call her on the phone or show up at her house and tell her that?" Sally asked. "She'll think I'm nuts. And she won't listen anyway."
"But I must warn her!
Sally thought for a moment. "Are you able to haunt? Have you tried it?"
"Haunt Gladys?" the ghost said. "Never!"
"No, no," Sally said. "Not Gladys. Haunt the boyfriend. When he's with her, or whenever he's in her house. He'll start to find her less and less appealing, and he'll leave."
"Oh." The ghost was quiet for a moment. "I think that might work…"
Sally waited for a minute, but there was nothing more. "You're welcome," she called out. Hello, talk about rude…
The next night, Sally was heating soup in the kitchen when a new ghost arrived.
"Voman!" it said.
"Aaahhhh!" Sally yelled, and threw the soup spoon into the air. Bertie skidded and scrambled across the floor as he ran off to hide.
"Hah hah! Good scare," the ghost chuckled. "Yes. So, now I tell you the thing—"
"Get out," Sally said.
"Vhat? No, I have job for you!"
"Come back when you've learned some manners—or don't come back at all."
Sally cleaned the soup splatter off the floor and counter, and coaxed Bertie out from under the bed. The rest of the evening was blissfully quiet.
Saturday morning, she was drinking her second cup of coffee and doing a crossword puzzle when the kitchen light flickered a few times. She paused and looked up.
"Hello," a new voice said. "Is now a good time?"
Finally. Sally put the pencil down. "Sure, go ahead."
"My name is Darryl James. Walter told me you helped him with his wife? So, I thought I'd try. I hid some important papers away years ago, but now my wife needs them and she doesn't know where to look. Can you help me?"
"I'm sure I can send her an anonymous note. Let me write down her name and address…"
More ghosts came over the next several weeks, pleading with her to contact their friends or families, or tie up unfinished business.
"I don't understand why you all have to drag me into your problems," Sally told one of them. "I do have a life, you know."
"If you say so," the ghost said. "Presumably. But if we could just get back my issue now…"
The demands for Sally's time grew more and more frustrating. She started to feel as if she had a second career as a personal counselor, except the job didn't pay anything and the clients were exhausting.
"You must carry this message through all the land," one ghost announced. "The end is near!"
"Oh, please," Sally said.
"Hubert, do be quiet!"
"Yes, Hubert. You are wasting valuable time, and I believe my turn was next…"
"No one wants to hear about the hidden bottles of brandy you left up and down the Eastern seaboard, Clarence."
"Really, Henrietta? And what of your unrequited longings for the gardener at your parents' estate?"
"All of you, shut up!" Sally said. "One ghost at a time, or everyone leaves."
Bertie was confused by the extra company. More people usually meant trouble, and people he couldn't see were even scarier. He hid behind the sofa, under the bed, and inside closets. Sally started to feel as if she hardly saw him anymore.
Sometimes, she heard from spirits who had come to her before. Walter, who had left without a thank you or a goodbye, returned a month later. "I wanted to tell you that you were right. I kept haunting the man my wife was dating, and he finally broke up with her. She's much safer now, so thank you."
"Good," Sally said. "I'm glad I could help."
But not all spirits were kind.
One night, Sally sat on the sofa with Bertie, a bowl of popcorn, and a glass of wine, ready to settle in. The living room lamp flickered shortly after eight o'clock.
"The Oscars are on, come back later," she said.
"Hey, I did the thing with the lights. What more d'you want?"
"Some common courtesy." Damn, George Clooney still looks fantastic.
"That was it, just now. So listen, I got a thing I wantcha to do."
"Go away," Sally said.
"Why should I? Which one of us here's the ghost?"
"That's it, I'm done. Get out!"
"Nah, I think I'll stick around 'til you do what I came for. Torment you, even, 'cause why not? I got nothing but time…"
Sally was still angry the next morning. Three more ghosts had showed up after the first one, none of them polite, and she was sick of the whole thing anyway. She'd researched options for dealing with her predicament before, but now she was ready to pull the plug.
She did some more internet checking at work, then took a lunch hour trip to an out-of-the-way occult shop called Fire and Bone.
The inside of the shop was dimly lit—a little creepier than Sally had bargained for, but she was desperate now. A young woman in Goth wear whose name tag said, "Raven", stood behind the counter. She looked up as Sally approached.
"Excuse me," Sally said. "Do you have anything to repel spirits?"
Raven raised a stud-pierced eyebrow at her. "What, like some kind of 'Ghost-Be-Gone' spray?"
"Do they make that?" Sally asked. "No, wait, of course they don't. But something that works like that, maybe?"
"This happens more often than you might think," Raven said. "What we usually recommend is a clearing ritual, or performing a healing ceremony at the house or apartment to persuade the ghost to leave."
"Oh," Sally said. "Well, it's not a problem with my house, exactly. It's a problem with me. I'm need a way to keep ghosts from bothering me."
"Poltergeists?" Raven asked. "Or are they manifesting? Or showing you things that upset you?"
"They can do that?"
"Oh, yes."
Maybe I got off easy, Sally thought. "Well no, it's more that I want to keep them from talking to me—or any other kind of communication. Or haunting me. Basically, I want to go back to being completely unaware of them. Maybe a magic amulet or something?"
Raven nodded. "I think I have exactly what you need."
That night, Sally came home to a quiet house where Bertie was the only thing waiting for her and all of the electronics behaved themselves. Bertie sniffed the new ring she wore, the one she would probably never take off again—not if she valued her independence and sanity.
Sally picked him up and hugged him, looking forward to uninterrupted evenings of reading, watching TV, and snuggling her fuzzy little friend.
"It's just you and me, Bertie."
"Mrrrrp," Bertie said. Something was clearly better, even if he didn't understand why.
Sally carried him into the kitchen.
"We should celebrate," she said.
"Let's see if we have anything special for dinner."
--/--
If you enjoyed this story, you can vote for it along with many other fine entries here.
no subject
Date: 2019-01-10 11:40 am (UTC)Did you see my entry a few weeks back about the man who wasn't afraid of the ghost in his house?
no subject
Date: 2019-01-10 07:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-10 02:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-10 07:42 pm (UTC)The whole idea of a 'ghost grapevine' kind of amused me. Usually, you think of mediums, who seek out specific ghosts to contact. Not random people who become the victims of a free-for-all on, "Hey, do me a favor." :)
no subject
Date: 2019-01-10 04:01 pm (UTC)Enjoyed this.
no subject
Date: 2019-01-10 07:52 pm (UTC)So glad you enjoyed this. Thanks for reading and commenting!
no subject
Date: 2019-01-10 10:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-11 01:55 am (UTC)And if you aren't a medium, where the living come to you to bridge the gap to the beyond, the communication flows the wrong way. Instead of humans asking for answers, you have ghosts wanting to send messages through someone who is a complete stranger to the recipient. She's more likely to get doors slammed in her face than ever be able to do what the ghosts want!
Which does not mean they'll stop trying, because why would they? At least she can hear them, when most people can't. And if the ghost is a jerk, well, harassing her non-stop will probably get the job done. :O
This goes beyond even needing a restraining order. She needs it for ghosts she doesn't even know!
There's enough absurdity in the setup alone to make the story demand to be written. :)
no subject
Date: 2019-01-11 03:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-11 08:07 pm (UTC)You know ghosts-- they can be kind of obsessive. :O
So glad you enjoyed this!
no subject
Date: 2019-01-11 06:53 am (UTC)I wonder what Raven gave her, exactly... what was in that ring? Powerful exchange there!
This is such a great take on long distance. I very much enjoyed it. :)
no subject
Date: 2019-01-11 08:21 pm (UTC)Take "Hey, let me tell you about MY problems" and multiply them by an ever-expanding group of problem-sufferers, and then make them able to come into your house (or anywhere else, if they're rude enough) and just never leave you in peace!
There's no call-monitoring or leaving town with ghosts, if they choose not to cooperate. :O
no subject
Date: 2019-01-11 03:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-11 08:25 pm (UTC)I'm glad you enjoyed this, and appreciate your stopping by to read and comment. :D
no subject
Date: 2019-01-11 05:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-12 02:38 am (UTC)I'm glad you enjoyed Bertie's appearance here! I couldn't help thinking that as annoying as this was for Sally, at least she intellectually knows what's happening. For Bertie, it's *random noise OMG I am going to die*. Which, _yikes_.
no subject
Date: 2019-01-11 05:47 pm (UTC)I saw a movie where a man survived a near death experience and became able to see ghosts and sure enough the ghosts started bothering him like they did poor Sally here! I'm glad Sally found a way to restore peace and sanity to her home :)
no subject
Date: 2019-01-12 08:53 am (UTC)This story idea came to me a few weeks ago for another prompt, but a different idea wanted to be written that week. But it stuck with me, obviously. It's such a contrast to a character who is a medium and who often is trying to reach specific spirits on behalf of living friends or relatives. Here, the ghosts make contact on their own, and are trying to 'push' outcomes that nobody is asking for, including the poor intermediary herself. It makes for such a miserable situation! Anyone she delivers ghost-messages to won't be expecting them, so they'll think she's either crazy or a scam artist. None of which will be fun for her!
no subject
Date: 2019-01-12 01:21 pm (UTC)I don't know if I've seen the Robert Downey Jnr one and I'll have to look out for it, a quick google suggest it is called "Hearts and Souls" :)
The one I was thinking of was "Ghost Town" with Ricky Gervais (I was on the fence about watching as I'm not always fond of his style of humour but I quite enjoyed the movie as an afternoon treat!)
no subject
Date: 2019-01-11 08:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-12 08:56 am (UTC)Whether anyone actually needs or wants to hear them is a different story, but it's a fine line between dedication/perseverance and outright obsession. :D
no subject
Date: 2019-01-12 01:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-12 08:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-13 04:55 am (UTC)This is where I decided I loved Sally. You built a sharming well-rounded character and I absolutely love how she didn't even pause at the ghosts. She just wanted them to be polite and say thank, which I feel are very reasonable demands.
no subject
Date: 2019-01-13 08:21 am (UTC)Just having random ghosts show up and start talking to her (or yelling) with no warning would be kind of like being a 24/7 sales person living in the middle of a busy department store. Except worse, because you would have the memory of what privacy and being able to live a regular life were like.
I'm glad you enjoyed this story. Thanks so much for stopping by to read and comment. :)
no subject
Date: 2019-01-13 10:09 pm (UTC)Well done! :-)
no subject
Date: 2019-01-13 11:18 pm (UTC)This is one of those cases where a capability turns out to be less of a talent and more of a curse. ;)