Holmes

Bang! 

   The sound of Mr. Holmes’ cast iron pan clattering on the ground resounded throughout the small, two story cabin. He’d been trying to pick that pan up for weeks, but as it seems being a ghost left him wishing for the brittleness of old age. However, he was dead, and he’d been dead for three months now. The only good thing about it really, was seeing his dead wife Mrs. Holmes, or, as he liked to call her, Martha May. Speaking of which, the woman popped her head around the archway of the dining room. Her little round glasses sat low on her nose, a beaded chain disappearing behind a mop of chocolate brown hair. There were streaks of greys in her hair, and Mr. Holmes knew he saw this version of her because he found it the most beautiful. 

  “Again, dear?” Mrs. Holmes said, stepping fully around the corner. She held a knitting needle in her hand, a ball of yarn following behind her. Mr. Holmes leaned down, shakily gripping the pan in his hand. He hadn’t exactly been dead as long as his wife had, he didn’t have the energy she’d developed over these last five years.

   “It’s not as easy as you make it look!” He said, chuckling lightheartedly. Mrs. Holmes laughed, and sat her needle and yarn down on the table. As she approached him, her feet made no sound on the wooden floor beneath the two. It was hard to get used to certain sounds being omitted. Death was like a vacuum, but a little less like an eternal, and dark void. Mr. Holmes had been quite shocked to discover that he could still eat breakfast, and drink his morning coffee. Though, it did work a little differently in their little outside realm. It was more memory that he tasted it, and more energy that he had been consuming. The physical food stayed, and was left outside for the animals to eat. Well - except the coffee had to just be dumped out. Mrs. Holmes was insistent he stopped drinking it because it was wasteful, but Mr. Holmes couldn’t find himself able to stop. Not yet, at least, he wanted to enjoy it a little longer. 

  “Give me the pan, I’ll make dinner then.” His wife said, “You get the candy bowl ready for the kids! You know Brianna had three, they’ll want lots of sweeties.” Mr. Holmes released the pan handle, and passed it on to her. It slid from her grasp a tad, before she fully made contact with it and was holding it in her hand. She brushed past her husband, who began making his way into the living room. 

  “Get your yarn up, Martha May!” Mr. Holmes yelled over his shoulder, his feet slipping up on the yarn. It was strange that the dead could even do that. Mrs. Holmes huffed loudly, throwing open a few cabinets to grab a bowl and a pot.

 “Get it up yourself! I’m busy with the cookin, Eddie.” She replied, setting the pot and pan up on the stove, and rolling the bowl onto the counter. She filled the pot up with water, and turned the heat on to let it boil. Mr. Holmes leaned down to pick up the yarn, grumbling along the way as he rolled the string up. He walked back to the kitchen, and sat it down on the dining room table next to Mrs. Holmes’ knitting needle. She was pulling her old apron around her waist. It was pink, and the top and bottom had white ruffles. 

  “What?” Mrs. Holmes asked, raising her brow at her husband. He’d been staring a minute, admiring the cute blue jeans and orange sweater that contrasted so heavily against the pink apron. All of it was so cute on her, and so much like Mrs. Holmes. 

  “You’re just so beautiful.” Mr. Holmes said, approaching her to pull her in for a kiss. It was a short peck, before Mrs. Holmes was pushing him out of the kitchen and into the living room. 

  “Alright! Get going you! You know how I feel about a crowded kitchen!” She exclaimed hurriedly, and Mr. Holmes threw up his arms, laughing and smiling at the flush in her cheeks. 

 “Alright, alright. I’m going. Put your spoon down!” Mr. Holmes laughed, and Mrs. Holmes huffed and returned to the kitchen in a swirl of flushed frustration. Mr. Holmes watched her go, smiling all the way. He was so happy to be with her again. He turned around and walked over to the coffee table. It stood in front of a fireplace, that was unlit, and had been for months. Behind the table was a couch, and to the right of it a recliner. Both were gathering dust, and Mr. Holmes remembered he hadn’t cleaned them since he had died. And, of course, nobody had been round to dust the place up either. He hummed, grabbing the bag of candy laid out on the coffee table. It was old, just some candy left around the house. However, the two could only make do with what was left in the house. 

  Mr. Holmes was glad it was only a few months old, as he had bought the candy in advance for Halloween night. Now had come the night, and they were awaiting the arrival of their daughter and grand-children. She had always spent every holiday with Mr. and Mrs. Holmes, always slept up in her old childhood room. Still, Mr. Holmes was nervous. What if the group never showed? What if his death was too painful? He needed to see her one last time. See his grandchildren pitter-patter across the hallway floor, and into the living room. He thought about the times they’d climb up on his lap, candy in their hands, and a book for him to read. He sniffled, and wiped his eyes. From the kitchen, he heard his wife call out, 

  “Are you alright dear?” He looked up from the candy in his hand and smiled sadly. 

  “Yeah...I just hope they show.” Mr. Holmes replied, dropping the candy into the bowl, “

This will be our last meal with them.” 

  “I know, they’ll show. She always comes. She’ll come to find closure, dear.” Mrs. Holmes said, “I’m just excited to see Maiya, Autumn, and Diana’s costumes this year! They’re always so cute.” Mr. Holmes nodded, even if his wife couldn’t see it. He tossed in the rest of the candy, and walked back to the kitchen to throw it away. He was hungry after exerting so much energy! He made a cup of coffee, taking a sip. It spilled out onto the floor, and he jumped back. Mrs. Holmes turned around, hands on her hips. 

 “Eddie!” She shouted sternly, and he laid his cup down. 

 “I’m sorry Martha May! You know it’s hard to get used to.” He said, and she sighed, her shoulders slumping. She grabbed a rag and tossed it to him. 

 “I know, I know.” She said, “Anyways, wipe it up, I don’t want to slip.” Mr. Holmes grabbed the rag slowly, and leaned down to wipe it up. It took a few swipes, but eventually, the floor was clean. He took the rest of his coffee, and finished it. It was like he was playing make-believe with his daughter again. Small, fake sips, and a “thank you for the tea, madam”. It was weird, and normal altogether in one. 

  Mr. Holmes grabbed the duster from the broom closet, and walked back over to the couch and recliner. Mrs. Holmes was boiling potatoes, and cooking hamburger helper. It was Brianna’s favorite childhood dinner, hamburger helper and sliced boiled potatoes with ketchup. Mr. Holmes dusted the chair off, and then the couch. It took up about thirty minutes of his time to expend the energy, and afterwards he was plopping down and heaving out a sigh. Mrs. Holmes had finished cooking now, and was pulling out plates from the cabinets. Brianna and the kids would be there any second. 

  Mrs. Holmes had just finished laying out the food when there was a jangle of keys, and lock clicking open as the door swung against the wall. Three kids, aged 5, 8, and 11 came bustling in. The youngest wore a ghost sheet over her frame, she was Maiya, and Mr. Holmes could see the green eyes behind the eye holes. The middle was Autumn, who was dressed as a vampire. She looked like Mrs. Holmes, large fluffy hair and blue eyes. The oldest was Diana, who was dressed as a fairy princess. She had black hair, the same as Maiya, Mr. Holmes, and Brianna. Though, Mr. Holmes didn’t know where she got her brown eyes.

  Yes, I’ll handle everything after my vacation. Can you just email me the reports so I can-” Brianna stepped in, sniffing the air as she halted speaking, “Dave did you order food and have it sent over?” There was a muffled voice on the other end, and Brianna let out a short huh. She pushed the three kids to the doorway and walked further into the house. She froze in the kitchen archway, staring at the plates of food on the table. “What in the..Hello?! Is anybody here?! Did they sell the place??” Mr nor Mrs. Holmes could answer her, and instead pulled out the dining table chairs. Brianna screamed, jumping back. There was a panicked call for her on the other side of the phone, and from down the hall. Mr and Mrs. Holmes looked at each other worriedly, neither knowing what to do. Maiya appeared in the archway, and looked over at the two. 

        “I thought Grandpa wouldn’t be here.” Maiya said, walking over and attempting to give Mr. Holmes a hug. It didn’t work, and Maiya stumbled a bit next to the chair. “Why can’t I hug grandpa?” Brianna was frozen in the door, and in appeared Autumn and Diana. Autumn looked confused, and approached the group at the table. Diana looked lost, and Mr. Holmes knew she couldn’t see them. 

  “Maiya, Grandpa isn’t there. I don’t see him.” Brianna breathed out, and the other end of the phone was shouting for Brianna. 

  “But he is! And another lady.” She said, and Autumn nodded furiously. 

  “Yeah mommy, Grandma is here too!” 

  “You two stop joking around, I don’t think it’s funny.” Brianna said sternly, but the two whined and pointed at Mr and Mrs Holmes. Mr. Holmes reached for Maiya and smiled. 

  “Your mother can’t see us because I’m in another place.” He explained. 

  “But you’re right here, I can see you.” Said Autumn. 

  “Well, it’s a different version of this place. But we must leave soon, so we wanted to share one last dinner.” Mrs. Holmes said.

  “Where are you going?” Maiya asked. 

  “We’re...moving. To a new home. Tell your mom we love her, tell her we miss her, and if she needs convincing that it’s us tell her that she forgot her ugly halloween sweater, and she isn’t matching with us.” 

 “Grandpa says you aren’t wearin the matching sweater.” Maiya said, and Brianna dropped her phone. 

 “Maiya, what do you mean?” She asked, tears brimming in the corners of her eyes. 

 “He said uhm….he said that they wore the ugly..ugly halloween sweaters and that you didn’t.” She said, and Brianna gasped. She stumbled forward, pulling out another dining room chair and slumping down into it. She cried, cried for a good five or ten minutes before grabbing a fork and telling the three girls to have a seat. 

 “Oh and he said grandma and him loved you.” 

 “I love you too Mom and Dad.” Brianna said, crying as she stuffed a ketchup covered potato in her mouth. 

  And Mr and Mrs. Holmes smiled and cried too, and “ate” their fill of the baked potatoes and hamburger helper. They explained to Maiya and Autumn what being a ghost was like, the two relaying it back to Brianna and Diana animatedly. They talked and talked until the dinner was done, until they were fading from that house. Until all that was left of them was the plate of food, Mrs. Holmes’ knitting needle, and the bowl of candies in the living room.