Diary of a Dead Man (2)

2. A Typical Day at the Office

“Alright everybody settle down!” The man speaking is a tall, skinny Frenchman who suffered cirrhosis of the liver at far too young an age after his wife left him for a German body builder. Around him restless group of dead men, women, and children take their seats in one of the staffrooms we have created. A great many of them are dressed in old-timey clothing (you’re stuck with what you died in), but the modern styles have begun to make an appearance.

The thing about ghosts is, they’re very impatient. Getting us to sit still for more than a few minutes is nothing short of absolute pandemonium, and when we’re working it gets even worse. When you’re not sure how long you’ve got to come to terms with your past things get a little dicey.

“Now look, the holiday season is coming up.” He’s of course mostly referring to Halloween. October is the one month where everyone seems to take a break from what they consider to be hard logic and go out in search of something more fantastic, and we exploit it. More than half of the year’s hauntings occur in October and they usually provide enough ghost stories to keep us going on the bare minimum for the rest of the year. We could try as hard in the other months, but as it turns out, death does not cure apathy.

  “Today is a busy day. I’ve got a group of Atheists on the 3rd floor that look like they might be about to make the jump into skepticism. Molly, Shannon, I need you to do a Bloody Mary and a creepy twin at midnight and 2AM. I want them screaming at the top of their lungs and clutching at their shorts when they leave the building.” Atheists are tough, but screwing with people’s world views, while difficult, can often be very rewarding.

“Edward!” A man in a powder wig and Civil War getup stands properly and salutes. The prick wasn’t even in the army, just really liked to reenact the war on Sundays. He always fought for the south. “You’re going to be the ghost of General Pillam. There’s a group from the history channel trying to summon him on the twelfth floor. They should be holding a séance around 3:15AM.”

  “Yes sir, I’ll be there sir.”

  “Fantastic. Brian, Megan, you two are on poltergeist duty. There’s a writer on floor 12 and a couple that think it’s a good idea to hide away in the ballroom for a quickie. Show them the error of their ways, and make a real mess of it. That ballroom used to be one of my favorite parts of this hotel.”

  “Christ.”

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing, we’ll be there.” Pipes in Megan. She’s cute for a manic depressive. The scars on her arms don’t even obscure her beauty all that much. If I had a sex drive (yes that does die when we do) I might be interested, but I don’t, and so I’m not. Still, she’s better company than general Prick Pants.

“Yeah, we’ll be there.”

“Good, everyone else you’re on thermostats, disembodied footsteps and mournful wailing. Make it cold, and make it creepy!” Most of the ghosts don’t get to the big show. They perform minor acts that cause discomfort and anxiety. You’d be surprised by how little it takes for someone to believe a room is haunted. I mean, they’re right, but still, there’s not a whole lot for them to go on.

When we were done with the meeting Megan and I moved out of the storage closet and into one of the many long, red, carpeted hallways that adorn this fine establishment. The hotel was busy, bellhops were moving like madmen. It was just beginning to be peak season, meaning a full house and lots to do, which was fine by me. Keeping the body (spectral dust and duct tape?) busy seems to help ease my mind.

“You’ve got to stop mouthing off to him.”

“I hardly think that an exhasperated sigh counts as mouthing off.” I said, with an exasperated sigh as a perky bellhop passed right through me. Megan gave me a look that only the dead can.

“Just because we’re dead doesn’t mean you have to be miserable about it. We’ve got things pretty good here.”

“I’m not miserable. I’m just unsatisfied.”

“Well if you’d rather take the express train down below and shack up with a demon no one is stopping you.”

“What makes you so sure I’m going down?”

“Most of us wouldn’t be here if we weren’t. We’ve got an extension. A time to come to peace with our demons before we have to actually face them.”

“You don’t believe in second chances?”

“No. If we were going to go to heaven we’d be there. Nothing we do here is worthy of clemency.”

“We do a good thing.” She gave me the look again.

“Terrifying nuns and small children as if they are the devil himself is a good thing? I think you’ve got the fairy tales backwards.”

“We give people the time to deal with unfinished business. Without it what else would there be?” We came to a small door with the number 42 on it.

“You’re fooling yourself. What do you want to be this time: Books? Or Faucets and alarm clocks?”

“Books.” I said with a melancholy air.

“Let’s get to work then.”