Hanging Out with Charlie

Hanging Out with Charlie

I was bored, really. Daydreaming, letting my mind wander. Trying to think of something, anything that would be interesting to do today. A day off with no plan just does not come along all that often, at least not if you seem to thrive on trying to plan and organize the next 5 years of your life to have some kind of goal to work towards. Some reason to get up and endure another more than 8-hour shift of ridiculous expectations and very little to no appreciation.

Sitting in my comfy chair, gazing off out the window and peeking between the very small spaces between the vertical blinds to see if going for a walk was any kind of acceptable option. I realized I was not alone. My couch was suddenly occupied with a somewhat friendly looking dark haired young man. At a guess, I think around 20 or so years old, being not at all good at placing ages.

“Did you let yourself in, how did you get a key to my place?” I wondered out loud.

“Wait, you can see me?”, the young man was clearly startled that I was looking right at him and asking him to explain his presence.

“Of course, you are pretty sold looking, not invisible at all. What’s your name?” I asked.

“Charlie, and who are you? When did you move in here?” He seemed more confused than I was.

“I just moved here about a month ago, but this is the first time I have seen you. Did you used to live here before? Is that how you got a key? I guess they didn’t bother changing the locks after you moved out”, I was a little annoyed and puzzled how he got in without me hearing or seeing him coming down the hall through the kitchen.

“I used to live here, but I am not sure how long ago. What year is it now?” Charlie glanced at his watch as if expecting to see the answer written with the hour and minute hands.

“It is 2025, September 21, a Sunday. Are you sleeping off a drunk or something?” I wanted some answers, not more questions.

“Wow, then that means I lived here 25 years ago. It was September 21, 2000 that I was killed in this room by a random burglar who broke in not expecting anyone to be here. I never found out his name. He shot me on sight, didn’t even give me a chance to hand over whatever I had that he felt was so valuable it was worth stealing. I have been hanging around here ever since; but no one has been able to see or hear me until you today, or if they did, they pretended not to.” Charlie was starting to smile a little more now.

“Any particular reason you hung around here? Did you hide stuff in the walls? Get lost on your way to the afterlife? Have a thing for spying on the living? Spill it, what is your real motive?” Getting a little sarcastic, hoping to provoke an explanation.

“A bit lonely and not a fan of Minos and his buddies. They kept wanting to judge me without considering that I was the one who was shot just for sitting in my own living room. Seems like it should have been the burglar who had to step in and explain his actions. I admit I did some stupid stuff, crossed a few lines here and there, but ‘mostly harmless’ would about cover it really. Not much into picking fights or putting on layers of misdirection.” Charlie seemed to be settling in for a long relax.

“Well, now that we can hang out, what would you like to do?” I was not at all sure the proper protocol for how to entertain a lingering spirit.

“We could check all my spots to see if they still hold things, worst case scenario they have all been looted and we waste some time and energy…of which I have plenty,” Charlie got up and led me around the whole apartment stopping here and there to press clever hidden latches and well blended in buttons. We started to pile up the treasures on the kitchen island. Loonies and Toonies, One- and Two-dollar bills (almost forgot what those looked like), rolls of pennies (that should be fun to cash in), a few rings with semi-precious stones, and a secret drawer in the built-in tv/stereo cabinet that was full of various small trinkets. Charlie pointed out that they were various amulets and talismans he had collected. I recognized a few omamori.

“Seems to me that you dabbled in some stuff that might have made you a bit of a target, are you sure that it was a random burglar and not a hit?” Seemed like a fair question.

“I guess I might have ticked off a couple of other people, unintentionally…”, Charlie paused to consider this.

“Well, I just might have been one of them…”, I had a Niffin box ready and was able to sleight-of-hand it out of my pocket and aim it right at Charlie. Shock, anger, disbelief, then a smug kind of smile all played across his face in turn.

“Are you going to risk that your box will hold me?What will you do when I just refuse to be contained? All you are really going to do is frustrate yourself and prove that you can’t be trusted to be my ally. I thought we were going to be friends….”, Charlie was looking not quite so comfortable now, and keeping a sharp eye on the pile of treasure on the table.

“I guess we will see if it will work or not….”, I quickly recited the binding the required three times, (having practiced the words many times for correct pronunciation). It was a bit of a gamble; I was not totally sure that it would work and was somewhat nervous about not having a plan B.

It took a minute that stretched and shivered, then Charlie was absorbed into the wood illuminating all the carefully chosen carvings I had spent so long creating. I felt a bit of regret. Charlie had turned out to be more friendly and likeable than I had expected. Still, I was not about to let him, or any of his buddies, get away with stockpiling all the little things I had spent so long trying to acquire.

Charlie had gotten a little too careless after having one too many at The Dragon’s Den.I was in my alter ego that night, loads of makeup and blue hair, being oh so friendly to him while he bought me drinks and tried to chat me up. It was easy enough to get him to believe that he was impressing me with his male charm and brag about how clever he was. He even invited me over, and I was able to slip out quietly soon after he passed out without him learning much about me at all.

I admit coming back and killing him might have been a bit extreme, I sort of lost my temper when he tried to pretend he had nothing of value (when I knew better). He did not recognize me in my burglar mode, nor in my current state. I made sure of it. I had changed my look enough that he would make no connection to the girl he had only met once who vanished without a trace.

What to do now? I wanted to think about that. I would start by going over the apartment again just to see if I could find any more hidden treasures. Then, who knows, maybe do a little travelling. Lots of places still to visit, lots of other Charlies out there…