PUSHING DAISIES: CHAPTER FOUR
Thursday gasped for air as the dark cloud pressed down on his chest. He struggled to move but felt pinned to the ground by an immense weight. “Who are you?” Thursday choked out. “Why are you attacking me?”
A face formed in the shadows. The ghostly visage of an older man with a beard, his eyes burning red with rage. “You helped her move on and escape my punishment,” the spirit’s voice bellowed from the spirit box. “Margaret murdered me, and you aided her!” Thomas roared, and Thursday could hear it without the help of the spirit box. It was as if the sound permeated his body and every atom in the air around him. The shadow pressed down harder on Thursday’s chest. The black swirling mass moving faster and faster around Thursday, growing darker and darker.
Thursday’s vision started to blur as he fought to stay conscious. He could barely breathe, and the weight on his chest felt like it would crush him. Just as he thought he might lose consciousness, a bright light pierced through the darkness.
The weight on his chest lifted suddenly, and he could breathe again. He gasped for air, coughing and wheezing, as he struggled to sit up.
Standing before him was Fallon. She held her hand out toward the spirit, her expression fierce and determined. “Enough, Thomas,” she said, her voice calm but commanding. “You cannot hold onto your anger forever. It’s time to let go.”
Thomas’ ghost snarled, but the intensity of his rage seemed to wane under Fallon’s gaze. “Why should I listen to you?” he spat. The voice from the spirit box was gravelly and menacing.
“Because your hatred only binds you here,” Fallon replied. “Margaret has found peace. It’s time for you to do the same. Release your anger and move on.”
For a moment, Thomas’ ghost flickered, his form wavering as if he were torn between staying and leaving. Finally, with a shuddering sigh, he began to fade. “I will never forgive her,” he whispered. With one last anguished cry, Thomas’ spirit dissolved.
The cemetery fell silent once more.
Thursday, still catching his breath, looked up at Fallon with gratitude and awe. “Thank you,” he managed to say.
Fallon smiled as she helped him to his feet. “You have a knack for getting into trouble, don’t you?”
Thursday chuckled weakly. “Comes with the territory, I guess. How did you know how to handle Thomas?”
Fallon’s smile faded slightly, her eyes taking on a distant look. “I’ve been dealing with spirits for a long time,” she said softly. “Longer than you might think.”
Thursday’s curiosity piqued. “What do you mean?”
“It’s a long story,” Fallon replied, her tone hinting at old wounds. “One that I’m not sure you’re ready to hear.”
“Try me,” Thursday said, his determination clear. “I want to understand.”
Fallon hesitated, then nodded. She started walking among the gravestones. “Come. I want to show you something.”
Intrigued, Thursday followed her.
They arrived at a crumbling mausoleum and through the thick ivy he could see an old, weathered plaque with the name Bellamy etched into it. Thursday recognised the name because it was the name of the village they were in. He looked from the plaque to her, wondering what it was she wanted to show him.
Fallon gently brushed away some moss on the wall to reveal an engraved raven. “This used to be my family’s mausoleum,” she explained, her voice tinged with sorrow.
Thursday’s heart ached for her. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”
She traced her fingers over the raven. “My family is the founding family of this village, hence my surname being Bellamy and the village being called Bellamy.”
Thursday was impressed. It was not often, if ever, he met important people whose family had founded a village.
Fallon said, “But after the tragedy, I chose to fade into anonymity. Easier that way.”
“After what tragedy?” Thursday asked softly.
Fallon hesitated, clearly wrestling with how much to reveal. Finally, she took a shaky breath. “My family was stolen from me. I’ve been... lost... ever since, trying to find my way, trying to move on but never fully able to.”
Moved by her admission, Thursday gently took her hand. “I understand how that feels. My family was killed in a car accident. For a long time, I was adrift. Hunting ghosts gave me purpose again. I guess deep down I am hoping to meet up with them if I search long enough.”
Fallon met his earnest gaze. “And do you ever ask these spirits what’s waiting for us on the other side?”
“Yes,” Thursday said. “I want to know if those who have died are happy where they are now. Is it different? Is it the same as here? Do they miss us as much as we miss them?”
Fallon glanced back at the mausoleum. Her expression was conflicted, as if the emotions within her was at war with each other.
“Fallon... How did you do that? The light?”
She shrugged. “It was just something I discovered I could do when I was in my darkest ever moment.” Looking at him as if she was trying to read his soul, she started smiling a slow smile. She had a beautiful smile, one of those smiles that made everyone around her want to smile too. “Some spirits can’t let go, even when those they’re connected to move on,” Fallon said. Her green eyes filled with sadness. “All we can do is show them the light, again and again, and hope one day they’ll follow it.”
Thursday studied Fallon with growing curiosity. There was something deeper going on with her, something mysterious. He didn’t want to ask her how she discovered her light in her darkest ever moment, because he, too, has had those bottomless moments and he knew how personal they were. Right now, he was simply grateful she had saved him. “Thank you for saving me,” he said. “It seems you know a lot about ghosts.”
“I have to go,” Fallon said.
He did not want her to leave and wonder if he will ever see her again. “I’m here in the village for a couple of days if you want to talk more.” Usually, he would be on his way already, but he did not want to leave the village. Fallon made him feel free from restlessness. It was weird. He hardly knew her but being close to her made him feel at peace.
She gave him a small grateful smile. “I’ll see you around.” She walked away from him to the back of the ruined mausoleum.
Thursday went back to Margeret’s grave and packed up his equipment, and then made his way out of the cemetery, his mind spinning with questions. There was more to Fallon’s story. He could feel it. The encounter with Thomas had left him shaken, but it also ignited a spark of curiosity within him. Why was he still here after Margaret had left? Most important of all, why was Thomas so afraid of Fallon?