Crossing Over

She opened the door and the smell of stale beer knocked her backward. She adjusted the vinyl cat ears on her head and rubbed her nose, smudging the black paint she'd haphazardly applied before rushing out of her apartment. She wondered to herself, Why am I here?

That's when she heard a familiar voice, "Meeeeow! I love the black cat look, Dani. Very classic," the woman called out as she approached. 

Danielle nodded as she took in the woman's costume. She was clothed in a prim chartreuse satin dress with a matching jacket, but her hair was askew and she had fake blood smeared across her face and arms.

"Wow, Harper," Danielle said slowly, looking her up and down.

"I'm Melanie Davis. From The Birds. You know," Harper replied, grabbing a black crow from the table beside her, slowly pecking at her head and contorting her face in horror.

"That awful movie you made me watch? I must have blocked it out," Danielle replied, suddenly feeling underdressed. 

"Oh whatever, it's fun! Anyway, I bet Brett is looking for you," Harper said as she scanned the room.

"I kind of doubt it. Our last date didn't go that well. I'm just done with the whole tough guy..." Danielle faded as the front door swung open.

A tall, blonde man entered the house with hesitation. He was slender and dressed in a vintage 1950s wardrobe with khaki slacks, a light blue button-up shirt, and an argyle sweater vest. His piercing grey eyes met Danielle's and she could feel the heat rising to her cheeks.

"Oooh, who's the preppy?" Harper asked as she bobbed to the music. 

Danielle was pulled back into reality.

"I don't know," Danielle paused to glance around the room, "but I'm going to find out."

Danielle made her way through the throngs of people dressed as witches, superheroes, numerous sitcom characters, and a grown man dressed in a diaper and bonnet as Baby New Year.

Danielle poured a cup of punch, recoiling as the overly cheap alcohol permeated the sugary liquid.

"Awful, isn't it?" the man with the grey eyes offered from behind her, lifting his cup up a bit.

"Uh, yeah. Truly," Danielle hesitated, "I'm Dani."

"John," he offered, "You look as out of sorts here as I do."

"Yeah, these parties aren't really my thing. This house does have the most amazing deck though. Very spooky. Do you want to check it out?" Danielle asked.

"Sure, lead the way," John replied.

The two sat on the deck sipping their drinks and staring out at the woods behind the house for hours as the party raged on inside. As their conversation slowed, John turned to her. 

"Do you know any ghost stories?" John questioned.

"Oh boy, do I. Have you heard The Hook or what about The Wreck or how about—" Danielle was interrupted by John's laughter.

"What?" she asked, smiling.

"You're really into this stuff, aren't you?" John continued, "Well, how about I tell you a scary story?"

Danielle nodded her head in anticipation.

John sat his drink down and turned toward Danielle, "This story happened years and years ago. A young man and woman had just enjoyed a romantic dinner, the man proposed, and she said yes, of course. Instead of rushing back to their house, they decided to take a walk in the park to celebrate their engagement. One of the street lights in the park was burnt out and when the couple reached the dark corner of the park they heard a rustle. The man shielded the woman as another man emerged from the bushes. He held a knife and asked for their money, which the couple handed away quickly. He was getting ready to leave when the glisten of the woman's engagement ring caught his eye. 'Give me the ring' growled the man, but the woman refused. He moved to leave, but turned back around and stabbed the man. The man collapsed to the ground and the mugger ran off, leaving the woman crying beside her fiancé."

Danielle was shaken by the tale, one she had never heard before, and realized that her mouth was gaping open.

"Whoa. That's definitely scary," Danielle said.

"Can I trust you, Dani?" John asked, his eyes pleading.

"Sure," Danielle replied quickly.

"It's a true story," John said quietly.

Danielle's eyes were wide as she waited for John to continue.

"That man, the one who was stabbed, that was me," John said with a stoic expression.

Danielle laughed, "You're crazy! Did Harper put you up to this? Or Brett? I didn't call him back for a reason, it's stuff like this—"

John interrupted her, "I'm serious, Dani. I'm a ghost. The only day of the year that anyone can see me is Halloween, this one day is my only chance. For so many years I tried to get someone to help me."

"Help you?" Danielle asked.  

"Yes," John went on, "I'm trapped and I need to resolve whatever is keeping me here so I can cross over. I tried for years to get someone to help me and I'd all but given up until I heard the music coming from this house. I felt drawn to this party and when I walked in and saw you, I knew why. I knew that you would help me. You would help me find my Marilyn."

Danielle stared at John, "You're actually insane. I'm going to find Harper."

Danielle turned away, but heard John call out, "Wait! I can prove it."

John walked closer to her and pulled out his wallet, searching for a small, weathered photo inside.

"Here she is, my Marilyn," John said reaching his hand out with the photo.

Danielle looked down at the aged black and white photo, wondering if this could be real. The woman looked beautiful, happy, and somehow familiar. 

Danielle scoffed, "Anyone could get an old photo, that could be your grandmother."

"What about this?" John said, lifting his shirt to show a scar from a stab.

Danielle gasped, placing her hands over her mouth. 

"Please, Dani. I didn't mean to frighten you. I know you can help me, you're the only one," John begged with tears in his eyes.

"Let me see the photo again," Danielle sighed.

John handed it to her, and Danielle began to squint. Marilyn, she kept saying in her head.

"Mrs. Mary," Danielle whispered.

"What?" John questioned.

"Mrs. Mary Brooks. She taught my sister and me piano when we were kids. I'm sure of it. I thought that photo looked familiar. Mrs. Mary still has that same smile," Danielle recalled.

"Marilyn loved the piano, but her maiden name was 'Jones' so that must not be her. Unless..." John trailed.

"She's married. He is a really sweet man. He would always sit around while we were playing and encourage us," Danielle stopped.

"It's ok, Dani. I'm glad she's happy, but I'd still like to see her, just one last time," John said.

Dani grabbed an old receipt from her purse and scribbled a note. 

"Here you go, this is where she lives," Danielle said, passing the note to John.

"Thank you, Dani. I knew you would be able to help me," John responded.

"Good luck, John," Danielle replied as she watched John scurry off the deck. 

Danielle left the party early, reeling from the night's events, and unsure if what had just happened was real.

"I'm home," Danielle shouted as she entered the house and shut the door behind her. 

"Oh dear, I'm so glad you're home! There's a dark spirit lurking out there on this, All Hallows' Eve," her grandmother called out.

"I'm lucky that my grandma is an actual witch, makes every day spooky, not just Halloween," Danielle said as she kissed her grandmother on the cheek.

"I'm not a witch darling, you know this. I'm just in tune with both the light and dark forces. And it's not spooky, dear," Grandma explained as she lit another candle.

"I'm just teasing! So, what do you mean by a dark spirit lurking? How do you know it's dark?" Danielle asked as she wiped the whiskers off of her face.

"Oh, well, you can just feel it. Sense it in a way. Darkness, just like goodness, finds a way of making itself known in the world," Grandma continued, "How was your night, dear?"

"It was strange," Danielle stated as she began to tell her grandmother about John and the story he shared.

Grandma stared straight ahead with a worrisome look on her face. 

"What is it, Gram?" Danielle wondered. 

Grandma stood up, walked into her bedroom, and came back several minutes later with a newspaper clipping.

"Is everything ok?" Danielle asked. 

"Back in high school, I wrote for the newspaper, you know. Well, I kept all sorts of clippings, especially those where goodness prevailed over darkness. Even after I gave up journalism, I never had the heart to toss them out," Grandma began. 

"I thought that story sounded familiar. I remembered hearing it as a young teen, couple mugged in the park, man dead from a stab wound, but the details were fuzzy," she said passing the clipping to Danielle.

She looked down at the yellowed article, Newly engaged couple mugged in park, man declared hero.

There was a photo of Marilyn with a man, but it wasn't John. It was Tom Brooks, her husband. She read a quote from Marilyn, He came out from the bushes, took Tom's wallet, and asked for my ring, but I wouldn't give it to him. He tried to stab Tom, but Tom got ahold of the knife.

Confused, she continued to read, Thomas Brooks will not be charged for the man's death as it was declared self-defense.

Then a quote from Tom appeared, I didn't want to hurt the man, but I had to protect my fiancée.

Danielle unfolded the clipping and saw another familiar face, one she'd seen less than an hour before. There was a mugshot of John, and the caption read, Mugshot of John Clark following his first arrest. John passed away after a fatal stab wound during the attempted mugging in Memorial Park.

Danielle's hands were shaking as she thought back to earlier that night — the stab wound, the wallet with Marilyn's photo belonging to Tom, and his words, I need to resolve whatever is keeping me here so I can cross over.

Danielle grabbed her coat and rushed out of the house, running through the park, pausing for a moment as one of the street lights flickered. Breathing deeply, she took in the gravity of the situation and picked up her pace.

She made it and the house endured peacefully in front of her. The sound of the delicate keys filled the street as she stood outside of Marilyn and Tom's home. Inside she could see Marilyn at the piano and Tom watching intently from the couch, just as he had years ago during their lessons. She breathed a sigh of relief and smiled to herself, wondering if she had imagined the entire night, if the pungent liquor in the punch had taken hold of her mind.

The lights inside the house abruptly disappeared and darkness consumed. The sound of the piano dissolved, and it was at that moment she realized the bitter truth. It was too late.