Page 33 of The Most Unusual Haunting of Edgar Lovejoy

Edgar

“How the hell did I let you talk me into this,” Edgar groaned, looking down at the grayish-brownish makeup clotting on his skin. He was going for a light, jokey tone but didn’t think Jamie was fooled. He didn’t think Jamie was fooled by much.

They put both hands on his shoulders and looked at him steadily.

“Hey. If you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to.”

When Jamie had asked him the week before if he wanted to be a ghost, he’d assumed they meant as a therapeutic tool. But no. Here he stood at midnight, just inside the abandoned Six Flags amusement park, costumed and made up as the very thing that haunted him.

Edgar smiled at Jamie. He knew that they meant it.

If he said right this minute that he wanted to wash off the makeup, take off the wig, and leave Jamie and Amelia one ghost short for the night, Jamie would kiss him goodbye and bear him no ill will.

Which just made him that much more determined not to let them down.

After all, what was the worst that could happen?

“I’m good. You know, I came here once as a kid. About a year before Katrina. My mom was on this ‘group activities’ kick for Allie, Poe, and me.”

Jamie scrunched up their nose. “Ick.”

“Yeah. Allie joined choir, but I can’t carry a tune.”

“You really cannot,” Jamie said tenderly.

“Poe found some group that, looking back, I think was probably churchy, but he didn’t care.

He just knew they were going to Six Flags at the end of the summer, so he got me to join with him.

I don’t think we ever went to the church part or did any of the stuff we were probably supposed to do, but come Six Flags day, we were in that van, ready to go.

I don’t remember what we told Mom, but I think Poe got money from her for snacks and games.

Hell, maybe he took it from her wallet.”

Jamie smiled as they continued applying Edgar’s makeup.

“Poe was so excited. When we got inside though, he realized he wasn’t quite tall enough to ride the big rides.

He was a scrawny little kid. And he was furious.

He used to throw these tantrums sometimes, and when someone would try to hug him or pull him away, he’d absolutely freak out.

I didn’t want him to do that in the middle of Six Flags so I left him alone. He went off and came back taller.”

“What? How?”

“He’d gotten paper towel from the bathroom and wadded it up inside his shoes. Gave him that extra inch he needed.”

“Wow, that’s pretty diabolical for a little kid.”

“Yeah.”

His brother had always been good at getting what he wanted. He didn’t have any qualms about getting in trouble or disappointing people, an attitude that seemed to allow him the latitude he needed.

“He wanted to go on every scary ride. I…didn’t.

But he would look up at me with this expression that—” He shook his head.

Poe had been able to get him to do anything in those days.

He’d been terrified to ride the big rides, but he hadn’t wanted to disappoint Poe.

“But when we got to the front of the line and I saw the sign that showed someone too short flying out of the ride, I was terrified. I tried to pull him out of line, but he just looked at me like I was crazy, and there were people all around so I couldn’t really do anything.

We sat down, and all I could think of was our car turning upside down on this roller coaster and Poe falling out and splatting on the ground. ”

Jamie winced.

“He was so excited though, and I didn’t know what to do.

So I held on to him for dear life the whole ride.

I hooked my leg around his, and I held on to his arm.

He was trying to push me off, but he couldn’t.

When the ride was over, I was so relieved that he hadn’t died that I almost collapsed.

Poe was furious and told me to stay away from him and ran off. ”

“Harsh,” Jamie said, frowning.

Edgar frowned too. He hadn’t thought of that in years.

Had he spent the whole day chasing after his brother?

Looking for him? Worrying about him? It was a blur, except for the van ride home when he’d been so relieved to see Poe unharmed that he’d pulled him into a hug.

Poe had gone stiff and pushed him away, choosing to sit next to two kids he’d befriended after leaving Edgar behind.

Edgar had sat by himself, frowning out the window as a sign instructed visitors leaving the park to Have a Great Day .

He pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the abandoned park. It was nearing midnight, and the moonlight fell eerily, erasing some shadows and emphasizing others. The Ferris wheel stood, just visible in the chiaroscuro. He sent the picture to Poe.

Edgar : Remember when we came here with that weird group?

Since Poe was back in New Orleans, he responded to texts occasionally.

Poe : Have you been kidnapped and do you need assistance?

No , Edgar replied. I’m here of my own volition and in full possession of my faculties.

That’s what a kidnapper would say , Poe replied.

Edgar was pretty sure he was kidding, but honestly he couldn’t always tell with Poe even when they’d been close. Now? He hardly knew his brother at all.

Leave a million dollars in unmarked bills in the place you puked after we came here and find out , he replied.

A screen full of puking emojis filled his screen. He knew that if he texted again, Poe would not reply.

“Okay,” Jamie said, stepping back to admire their work. “I think you’re good to go.”

The other night, when Jamie explained what Edgar would be doing in the movie, they had asked him to describe the scariest ghost he’d ever seen. Exposure therapy , Jamie had called it, and Edgar had agreed to try.

Jamie handed Edgar a mirrored compact. Edgar raised the mirror slowly, trying to prepare himself.

The eyes that looked back at Edgar were his own, but everything else had been transformed.

His skin was the grayish brown of death, clotted and pinched into a contour map of scars and ridges.

His chin appeared to be half gone, and his lip on that side gaped open, so part of his jaw and a tooth were visible.

His nose now appeared to be crooked to one side, the tip bulbous and greasy.

And his hair was replaced with a bald cap made up in the same way as his face, only brownish tufts clinging to rotting skin.

“Baby? You okay?”

Jamie slid a hand up his back.

Edgar made himself nod to reassure them, but he couldn’t look away from his reflection.

When ghosts appeared to Edgar, he was so startled and afraid that he only got an initial impression.

He certainly never stuck around to peer at the ghosts’ various injuries.

Now though, Jamie had conjured the effect atop his own face, and Edgar was able to examine every detail.

He raised a clotted gray-brown hand to touch hair the texture of cobwebs.

His fingertips hovered over the makeup on his face.

He didn’t touch it, not wanting to ruin Jamie’s art, but he peered close and traced the pattern of scars and puckers with his eyes.

He thought about what might have happened to his body to create the result he’d seen in that ghost. The crunch of cartilage and bone, the tearing of skin, the deprivation of light and air.

It would hurt. A lot. It would be traumatic, both physically and emotionally.

But the ghost, when he’d seen it, had been single-minded.

Counter to Aunt Alaitheia’s theories about postdeath temporality, the ghost had pushed through Edgar.

To get somewhere or to someone ? Edgar hadn’t thought about that part because he’d been so terrified at the time.

Now though, he found himself imagining the urgency the ghost displayed.

Had it been trying to save someone? Had it taken the shortest route to whomever it was trying to save, and that route had simply happened to be through Edgar?

What would he do if he woke up, confused and hurt and lost in time or space, knowing only that Jamie was in danger and needed him?

He would take off at a dead run, needing to get to Jamie before it was too late.

He wouldn’t stop for anything or anyone, not until Jamie was safe.

And if his need to get to them scared a random pedestrian, he wouldn’t give it a second thought.

“Baby?” Jamie asked again softly. “Are you okay?”

There were so many things swirling in his mind at once that he couldn’t even begin to untangle them. But he was, surprisingly, okay.

“Yeah. I’m ready to terrify some people.” Edgar grinned, and the twisted gray face in the mirror grinned back at him.

***

Amelia shouted, “Action!” and Edgar spun to his left as he and Leila had practiced. When Leila turned, he was right in front of her. Amelia’s camera was close to capture Leila’s expression. Her face twisted into a mask of horror, and she screamed and bolted from him. Edgar jerked backward.

“Cut!”

Amelia peered at the playback. Edgar’s heart was pounding, and his ears were ringing. Never in his life had someone responded to him that way. He knew it was a movie, of course, but his body still felt the startle, still felt the actor’s fear like it was real. He felt…awful.

Was this how a ghost felt when Edgar screamed or ran? This sensation of shame, guilt, and sadness that made up the ultimate rejection?

“You okay?” Leila asked breathlessly, jogging back toward him. “Hope I didn’t shatter an eardrum or anything. Amelia told me to really go for it.”

She grinned and smoothed the edge of her hijab.

“I’m fine,” he assured her. “Just startled.”

“Yeah, about that?” Amelia said.

She spun the camera toward Edgar and pressed Play.

Leila’s terrified face filled the screen, and as she screamed, Edgar watched himself look even more afraid than she was and practically scramble away from her.

“Uh. Oops.”

“Yeah,” Amelia said gently. “If you can look a bit more…”