The Ghost of the Old Funeral Museum

Warning: mention of drinking and driving

I‘ve heard the story of my birth several times.

My dad’s car was being repaired and the hospital wasn’t too far away, so my mom started walking. She dismissed the idea of calling a taxi. “No taxi driver wants to accept a fare from a woman about to give birth.”

“We can call my brother, dad, or uncle,” Dad argued.

“They take forever to do anything,” Mom replied, with an airy wave of her right hand. She saw a police car with its motor running, parked outside a convenience store. She looked inside and saw the police officer smiling and flirting with a giggling salesclerk. She climbed into the police car, instructing Dad to get in the back seat. “It will look like I’m arresting you.”

“I’ll be arrested for real,” Dad groaned as Mom took off in the police car, then Dad slumped down in the back seat, mumbling about a pregnant limey used to driving on the wrong side of the street. In return, Mom made some comment about a Yankee hanging his pants on her bedpost and getting her pregnant.

Amazingly, Mom made it to the hospital before I was delivered. Me, Melanie Elizabeth Olivia Wyatt. When confronted by the police, Mom widened her blue eyes, fluffed her red hair, and apologized profusely in that beautiful British accent of hers. They let her off with a warning.

I opened my eyes. It was nighttime, and my brother Wynn was in an empty building, several lit candles around him, passing a bottle back and forth while sitting on a dark blue padded quilt on the floor. I recognized the woman drinking with him as Savannah Selkirk. Savannah had an obsession with cats, to the point where she wore makeup to look like a cat, changed her first and last names to the names of two cat breeds, and often wore kitty ears headbands. She’d always been fascinated with me for having MEOW for my initials. Elizabeth and Olivia were the first names of my grandmothers. And my mom had a weird sense of humor.

I love kitties. Too bad my brother is allergic.

“I shouldn’t be drinking,” Savannah said as she took a drink. “I’m sorry I got drunk that night.”

“Melanie won’t haunt you because you had an accident and she got killed.” Wynn slurred his words.

I would so haunt her! I looked down and I had on the same leopard print sleeveless tunic, black leggings, and leopard print sandals I wore to the club. Is this what I would spend eternity wearing? How could God let me die at such a young age, before my life even really began? This isn’t what I signed up for.

We were inside a former museum which had displayed exhibits about funeral rituals but had been mismanaged and closed down. I remembered leaving the club when it closed, climbing into Savannah’s car, two other friends of hers in the back. Savannah crashed her car right in front of this former funeral museum. I was thrown free of the car during the crash because I stupidly hadn’t buckled up when we left the club.

“Good thinking by you and your girls, moving Melanie on the driver’s side so everyone would think she was driving,” Wynn continued. Savannah laughed and detailed how she had moved my dead body half in, half out the car on the driver’s side, with the help of her two friends who’d been in the back seat. Wynn shook his head and whistled in admiration at Savannah’s quick thinking.

I wished I could rise up as a specter wrapped in a bloody shroud and clank some chains at them. How dare they pin the crash on me!

“That girl you liked. Doesn’t she live just a few blocks away from here?” Savannah asked.

Wynn nodded. “My soulmate. She was the One Who Got Away.”

Maybe it’s ridiculous for a ghost to want people to see reality, but just then I wished my brother could. His “soulmate” dated him for a few months, got tired of him and dumped him.

“I have One Who Got Away.” Savannah sighed dramatically. “We never dated, though. Her name’s Noelle. She does readings, for people after they’ve lost a loved one. She just charges a small fee, it’s not like she gets rich from it.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet,” Wynn mumbled as he emptied the bottle and sank down on the quilt.

They were both out cold, going to sleep it off. It was a warm summer night. But the candles were a fire hazard. I walked around, blew out the candles, and both of them kept snoring.

“Sweet dreams,” I muttered.

I decided I would try to find this Noelle who could talk to the dead, and tell her what really happened, clear my name. Could I appear in her dreams like sliding into an Instagram DM?

As soon as I had that thought, I found myself in another house, looking down at a woman in her late teens, maybe early twenties, dozing on a couch in a small room also containing a card table and folding chairs. I was relieved to know I wasn’t bound to haunt that dusty, deserted funeral museum forever.

She sat up and blinked.

“Are you Noelle?” I asked, unsure if she could hear me. “Can you see me?”

“Yes, I can see and hear you.”

“I feel fake. A ghost should be in a white sheet with holes for eyes,” I said. “I’m Melanie Wyatt.”

“Noelle Evangelista.” She paused. “You’re approaching me from the other side for a reason. An injustice needs to be righted.”

“I’ve been accused of causing my own death, but I didn’t.” Then I explained what I’d learned from Wynn and Savannah’s conversation.

“If I’d known I would die so young, “ I said gloomily, “I would have made something of my life.”

“You’ve always tried to be a good person, Melanie. That’s what counts.”

I watched as a young Native American woman came in and kissed Noelle lightly on the lips. Noelle whispered something to her and pointed to where I was standing.

I expected her to scoff when Noelle told her my story, but all the young woman said was "Weirdo” to Noelle in an affectionate tone.

“Melanie, this is my girlfriend Jade,” Noelle said. “She can’t see or hear you like I can. But she’s going to help us.”

It was kind of her to say “us” as it wasn’t like I had any money to pay her.

“Hi, Melanie,” Jade said casually, as if she spoke to ghosts every day of the week. “We’ll figure out a way to prove your innocence. Don’t feel dispirited.”

Noelle shot Jade a side eye. “Jade publishes poetry in her spare time. She loves playing around with words.”

Jade thought a moment. "What if we were to invite Wynn and Savannah to a reading? Make it mysterious with raps on the table, black candles, and eerie music.”

“I’m sensitive to those who have crossed over,” Noelle protested. “I don’t need all those trappings.”

“They don’t know that.” Jade smiled, her dark eyes lit up with mischief.

Jade convinced Noelle to put up black wall hangings and replace the regular light bulb in the ceiling light with a red light bulb. To look spooky.

“It looks like I’m summoning dark forces,” Noelle said.

Jade insisted on dressing the part. Noelle balked when Jade suggested she wear a velvet cape.

“It’s summer. I’ll sweat to death.” Noelle clapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry, Melanie, I shouldn’t have put it like that.”

Noelle agreed to wear a dark purple top, ankle length black pencil skirt, and black flats. Jade decided to wear a midnight blue silk shirt and a black leather mid-length skirt with boots.

“Savannah will probably expect you to be wearing Native clothing,” Noelle snapped. “I bet she can’t even spell indigenous.”

“I’m taking notes when you go into your trance,” Jade announced.

“I do not go into a trance,” Noelle insisted, speaking slowly for emphasis. “I’m in complete control at all times.”

Jade raised her eyebrows and laughed softly.

Noelle texted the invitation to Savannah, asking her to let Wynn know. Once they accepted, Noelle told me in a gentle tone that I should get some rest before the séance.

I suddenly felt a longing to see my parents and my boyfriend. Noelle divined my thoughts. “You should visit your boyfriend. Try to look at it this way. If you had to die while still in your early twenties, at least you knew the love of a good man before passing on.”

I found myself standing right behind my boyfriend, Derek Westmoreland, as he sat on his front steps, just staring into space. I put my hands on his shoulders but of course he couldn’t feel it. I needed some way to reach him, to let him know I loved and missed him.

I saw a white feather on the ground nearby, picked it up and brushed it against his fingers. He murmured, “Makes me think of how Melanie used to tickle me with feathers.”

I was an invisible ghost but if I could have blushed, I would have.

Derek sighed. “Oh, Melanie, I miss you. Why’d you have to leave me?”

If only I had stayed with Derek the night I died, watching movies and cuddling, instead of going to the club for that girls’ night out.

I remained there for a while, just watching him, sending my love to him. Derek took the feather inside and tucked it away in a drawer, in a small box.

When I went to my parents’ house, I found them sitting on the loveseat, holding hands. Both were crying. I’d never seen either one of them cry before. “I’m fine,” I wanted to say. “I’m as peaceful…as a wandering ghost can be.”

I hadn’t thought it through. If Savannah felt guilty and confessed to being the driver of the car, then she might face criminal charges. She might even be incarcerated. I didn’t want to be made accountable for a crash that sent three people to the hospital and me to the morgue, but I didn’t want Savannah to serve time, either. I needed to go back and talk to Noelle, talk her out of it.

I couldn’t bear to see my parents looking so lost and miserable. There were no feathers around to drop in front of them. I didn’t want to do anything to scare them, just to inform them of my presence, Then I saw a butterfly on the windowsill, went over, and blew on its wings. The butterfly flew in the open window and perched on the back of my mom’s right hand. Dad turned his head and saw the butterfly. After a few minutes, the butterfly flew away, back out the window. Mom looked over at Dad. “Melanie’s soul is free, just like that butterfly.” She gave Dad a half smile. “Do you want some tea?”

Dad winked at her. “Typical Brit. Always wanting a cuppa.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

When I wished myself back to Noelle’s house, it was to see her mother, Marilyn, staring down at a spinet piano with a bemused expression. “Why do I have to be the one playing a piano for background music? I haven’t played in years. I guess I can just improvise.”

I told Noelle that I was worried about Savannah getting in a lot of trouble if it came out that she was the driver. “The girls riding in the back seat had fastened their seat belts. I was so out of it I forgot to buckle in,” I admitted.

When Noelle told Jade what I’d said, Jade stated firmly, “It would serve Savannah right if she ended up behind bars instead of partying in bars.”

Noelle said, “Don’t worry, it was an accident. No one knows what her alcohol level was that night. Hopefully she’ll use a designated driver from now on, or quit drinking.”

Noelle’s two cats, Tinker and Dinky, came in and gazed at me. Cats can see ghosts. The larger one, Tinker, a tuxedo cat, trilled at me, and both zoomed out of the room.

At nine, Savannah came in, told Noelle how great she looked and asked how her cats were. Jade muttered, “Get her talking about her cats and we’ll be here till midnight.”

After being introduced, Wynn said, “I really miss my sister. She was sweet, always helped me. But very stubborn, she liked to get her own way.”

Thanks, bro.

Noelle smiled. “In a man, the same personality traits would be described as strong and assertive.”

Wynn decided to be quiet.

Savannah had entered the room with her arm around Wynn, looking very cozy with him. As she sat down, she said to Jade, “No wonder Noelle hides you away! You’re gorgeous! You should be in modeling school.”

Noelle frowned. She sat up straighter in her burgundy horsehair chair. Marilyn had borrowed the chairs and piano from her best friend, to add atmosphere.

“You used that same line on me when we first met,” Noelle said dryly. Savannah shrank down in her seat.

Savannah was consistent, anyway.

Marilyn played the first stirring notes of Beethoven’s Fifth, then started tuneless noodling on the piano. Noelle leaned back and relaxed.

Jade explained that she would be taking notes during the session. Marilyn started playing Chopsticks on the piano. Noelle turned and glared at her. Marilyn pointed out, “In my defense, I haven’t played the piano since before you were born.”

Noelle asked us to join hands across the red velvet tablecloth. Except for Jade, who needed to write, and Marilyn softly playing Three Blind Mice. Noelle’s voice rose. “Join us, Melanie, caught as you are between the worlds of the living and the dead. Speak to us and reveal your secrets from beyond the grave.”

Just then we heard a grunt in the hallway. Noelle called out calmly, “Did you see a ghost?”

Marilyn’s boyfriend appeared at the door. “Tinker was scrabbling to get into an old box so I pulled it out for him. There was a mouse inside it. And no, it wasn’t a toy. It was a real dead mouse.” He shrugged. “I’m sorry.”

“OK, “Noelle said. “I was just about to ask Savannah if she still eats saltines. She used to say it was her favorite snack. According to Melanie, that’s a fib. Savannah ate butter and crackers whenever she had a hangover. She couldn’t get any other food down.”

Savannah gaped. “You really can talk to people who have died?”

“We both thought you made it all up,” Wynn stammered.

“Oh, no, Wynn. Melanie told me about the other night in the old funeral museum, when you found all those candles that had been left there from an exhibit on votive candles for All Souls’ Day.”

Savannah and Wynn exchanged glances. Noelle went on, “Melanie told me about how Amber and Kasha were injured in the wreck. But not that much. They were in the back seat and buckled up. They were able to drag Melanie’s body over by the driver’s side door. They helped Savannah climb in the front passenger side before Amber called for help.”

Marilyn stopped playing the piano and turned around to speak directly to Savannah. “Help us out here. I know how it is when you’re young and dumb, you make mistakes, you think you’ll live forever. You do things without thinking them through. But Melanie’s been accused of something she didn’t do, and she can’t move on until you speak. You just need to say the truth, Savannah.”

Savannah was trembling.

Noelle leaned forward, her eyes narrowed. “Melanie will haunt you for the rest of your life if you don’t TELL.”

“I panicked and lied to everyone. Said she was the driver.” Savannah covered her face with her hands. She fled the room, with Wynn close behind her, as if they believed I would chase after them wailing like a banshee.

Savannah went to the police the next day to confess what had really happened. My parents were very relieved to find out that I had not been the driver. Due to my parents’ request for leniency, Savannah ended up paying a fine and doing community service.

I was glad I didn’t have to haunt Savannah’s dreams.

I did check on her sometimes. I tried to act as a guardian angel the night Savannah was stabbed to death in a bar fight, around ten months after my passing, I kept trying to tell her, “Be quiet and walk away. That woman has a weapon.”

I’m not a supernatural being with powers. I couldn’t prevent the other woman from stabbing Savannah.

After her death, Savannah reached out to me. “Oh, Melanie, I know you’re here. I feel so scared. What happens now?”

I appeared to her in a white robe, surrounded by golden light. She drew back. “Savannah, you need to do a life review, look back, and realize how you always put yourself first.”

I turned away and she held out her hand. “Don’t leave me here.”

“Reflect on who you are, and how you’ve always been your own worst enemy. You have others here who will help you. Like your grandparents, your favorite aunt, and other ancestors.” I paused to let that sink in, then added, “The garden of souls where I walk is not a garden you can enter. Not yet. Besides, I don’t have to spend time with people I don’t want to spend time with.”

“What?”

“Savannah, I’ve forgiven you. I don’t hate you. But I don’t want to spend time with you, and I don’t have to if I don’t want to. That’s one reason why this place is called Heaven.”