Your new bride is a little spooky

The older woman stood up from her seat at the restaurant table and held her hand out to Roger.  He took it into his and gently shook it. Her fingers were thin and slightly wrinkled but dressed just as handsomely as the rest of her. He brought the hand to his lips and kissed it. The skin felt soft and thin against his lips. 

The woman smiled. 

"So you would like to marry my daughter?" 

"Yes, ma'am. Very much." 

The woman wore her wealth very well, so that her true age was hidden by the apparent youth of her face and body.  She wore fashions that showed off the result of many workouts and surgeries in the best light.  It was only when one sat across from her that her advanced years were noticeable.  Even then, Roger found her attractive. 

"Do you know what you are agreeing to, Roger?" 

"I think so." 

"You must stay loyal to her.  Completely loyal.  No straying away from her at all." 

"That shouldn't be a problem, ma'am." 

The woman looked at him.  He had seen the look before, but mostly from his buddy when they patrolled the various nightspots in whatever town they were in at the time.  He was sure that he himself had used it as he studied some girl.  The woman smiled. 

"I would think that a young man like you would be hard pressed to keep away admirers."  She leaned back against her chair.  "You'll find that you will receive offers that you may find hard to refuse after you have been in this situation for awhile.  You won't have much of a... sex life... being married to my daughter." 

"It shouldn't be an issue, ma'am." 

"Roger," she leaned forward in her chair coming close to him, "I am asking you to be absolutely loyal to a dead woman for the rest of what may be a long life.  Can you really think you can do that?" 

"As I said, ma'am, it shouldn't be an issue." 

###### 

Roger walked into his new home for the first time.  With everything in place just as Malory had left it when she went to the hospital.  He dropped the duffel bag holding everything he still owned in the foyer and limped around the condo.  He studied everything, wondering about the woman he had just married.  The woman he would never meet. 

Over the fireplace was her picture.  Her arm was around a friend.  It must have been summer, as both women wore white, loose-fitting tee shirts. Behind them was a tree, a large oak maybe, that spread out in a large, dark green burst.  Both had a big carefree smile on her face. 

###### 

He placed the flowers over the green lawn, just in front of the headstone and next to the single daisy that already lay there. 

"Hi, my name is Roger Grace.  We're married.  I just moved into your apartment today."  He sighed.  "I'm sorry to have used you like this, but... 

"No buts...I'm sorry.  Where ever you are , I hope you can forgive me." 

###### 

He turned out the lights around the single floor of the condo and walked towards the master bedroom.  Just as he stepped to the threshold, he stopped.  It was a large room with a big, king-sized bed. He stood staring at it. 

This was where she slept, he thought to himself. 

He turned around and backed tracked to the small guest room.  He lay down on the bed and closed his eyes with a sigh.  He lay there with thoughts that raced through his head too fast to keep track of, waiting for the start of his first nights sleep in his new wife's home. 

At the crash of glass, he popped up, aware of having just drifted to sleep, but unaware of how much time had passed.  He reached for the lamp switch and turned on the light.  He threw on a robe and ran to the living room.  The picture over the fireplace lay on the floor. 

He bent to pick it up.  The glass of the frame had shattered over the floor.  He noticed a piece missing.  He placed the picture back on the wall before turning to get a broom. 

He felt an arm wrap around his neck from behind.  A hand appeared next to his throat, the missing glass floating in its fingers.  The hand glowed slightly and the floor could be faintly seen through it. 

"Who are you?" 

Roger reacted.  He grabbed the arm near the glass and threw his body forward.  A slight glowing form flew over his head.  It sank through the couch and landed hard on its seat on the floor. 

"I'm your husband." 

Malory stood.  Her lower legs were surrounded by the couch. 

"My what?!" 

"Husband.  Your mom had us married." 

"That bitch!  That goddamn bitch!  She had no fucking right!" 

"No, she hadn't." 

The ghost floated forward.  The soles of her bare feet hovered inches off the floor.  She came to a halt in front of him. 

"You don't have the right either, you bastard." 

"I..." 

The pain was sharp as the ghost brought her knee up between his legs.  He gasped out in shock and pain, reeling back just a little. The ghost stood motionless for a moment.  Then she reached for his crotch.  Her hand disappeared through the robe. 

"There's...there's nothing there..." 

Roger nodded his head.  "I fought in the war.  I got hit outside Baghdad and close to where your hand is now. Part of me is still there." 

"Oh." 

"I guess I paid the penultimate price.  So when I saw your mother's ad...I figured that it wouldn't be too much of a strain." 

"Strain?" 

"To be loyal to you...that is all she wants." 

"The bitch."  The ghost turned and the lamp flew against the wall from the end table.  "I was dead and she still couldn't accept it." 

"Accept what?" 

"That I am a lesbian...uh?..." 

"Roger." 

"I'm dead and she needed to get that last bit in to pretend I wasn't who I am.  To make me what she wanted when I couldn't fight back." 

"I'm sorry."   Roger turned to the guest room.  "I'll pack...and go." 

A thin hand, unadorned, but much like her mother's, took his shoulder. 

"Wait." 

###### 

They were in the kitchen.  Roger drank a cup of instant coffee that the ghost had made him.  They sat across from each other. Over the course of an hour they had talked of themselves and their lost dreams. Now the ghost looked at him. 

"I am still surprised that you aren't frightened of me." 

"I was a ranger.  I've faced a lot worse than the ghost of a lesbian in my life." 

"What will you do now?" 

He shrugged his shoulders.  "If I leave, your mother nullifies the deal.  I have to stay here.  And I need the money." 

"I thought the army..." 

"It may have no use for dickless rangers, but I'm not really disabled." 

"College?" 

"If I was smart enough for college, I wouldn't have been trying to make a career of the military.  I can't even get one to look at my application." 

"Oh” The ghost paused in thought.  "Please, stay." 

"What?" 

"My mother is using you to get to me.  Besides..." she looked down to the gap in his robe  "...someone should do something for you." 

"Thanks, but..." 

"No buts, soldier...besides I will take my revenge on her." 

"How's that?" 

"Look." 

Roger lowered his head to the gap in his robe.  His eyes grew wide. 

"We have some powers in the afterlife...to bring back things to this side."  She smiled.  "I have some lonely friends over there.  I can bring some over.  Mom and her detectives will never know and we will have beat her.  Now get some sleep, Roger.  You will need it for tomorrow." 

Roger nodded his head in silence.  Slowly, the ghost that had become his wife disappeared into the air.  He got up and walked to the guest room lying down onto the bed.  The flaps of the robe fell to the sides. He stared down his belly for several minutes. 

Finally, he took the hard glowing member into his hand and began to stroke it.

© 2003 Kenny N Gamera