Today I Am Not a Ghost
Note: This takes place in the Day On Universe in October of 1981 between Relativity and Hello, Goodbye, Hello. All canon characters belong to R.A. Dick's estate and the original studio. The rest belong to Mary and me. Thanks to her for beta-ing and to the readers for keeping this alive.
"You know, Captain," Tristan Matthews grinned across the poker table, "you and Mrs. Captain should have kept Aunt Batty around just a touch longer."
"Littlebrotheryouhavecompletelylostyourmind?!!" Siegfried Matthews snapped.
"I'm inclined to agree," Adam Pierce noted calmly, able to follow what the hyper ghost was saying for once.
"Make it unanimous," Daniel Gregg rumbled. "Seaman Matthews, what on Earth, or any other planet, put that notion into your head?"
"Well, tomorrow IS Halloween. We have plenty of ghosts, but we've never had any OTHER sort of paranormal being around. If she'd stayed, we'd have a witch," the spectral youth snickered.
"I'd spell it differently," Dave Farnon observed, "but, in light of having a less than two-month-old baby around, I have resolved to not curse."
"Ye never do," Sean O'Casey, said child's godfather, countered.
"But, he still shouldn't say it," Blackie O'Ryan added. "Good lad."
"Lad? You're what, a year, maybe two older than me?" Dave snorted.
"Let's just not discuss age, okay?" Dr. Lynne Avery called out from the women's corner. She had just had a birthday, and while not prone to angst over it, didn't need reminders either.
"But, my dear doctor, every passing year only adds to your beauty," Lord Dashire said with a broad smile.
"Charlie, let Sean handle the blarney."
"What does Schooner Bay do for All Saint's Eve?" Jess Thomas asked, changing the subject for her sister's sake. She had only been in town a few weeks. "New England does have a rather spooky, no offense guys, history."
"Nothing extraordinary," Carolyn Gregg answered. "In past years, there've been dances and sometimes a church will hold a Christian Halloween celebration, in keeping with the 'Saints' part of the name. Of course, there's trick or treating. And ... " she trailed off, not willing to share the magic time she and the Captain enjoyed on that evening when soul mates could speak mind to mind and heart to heart. "Just ordinary Halloween things. Schooner Bay didn't really get involved in the witch trials of long ago."
"And, ever since Carolyn, Candy, Jon, and Martha moved into Gull Cottage, the annual Halloween invasions have ceased," the Captain added.
"Invasions?" Jenny Farnon asked. "I guess you don't mean from Mars?"
Her foster father grinned. "No. Town boys coming to try and see the ghost of Gull Cottage on the night when spirits are said to walk."
Tristan obligingly caused a "woo-woo" sound to echo through the eaves.
"I hope SOMEONE was never among them," she dryly said, glancing at her husband.
"No, I never caught him," Daniel assured her.
"Parents wouldn't let me," Dave added under his breath.
"But, Claymore was," Candy Muir Avery laughed. "Captain Dad scared him good!"
"Let's not mention that twerp either," her mother-in-law sighed.
"What has the fiddle-brain done, Doctor?" the seaman asked.
"Nothing, especially, but I tell you all, he had best get over being scared of ghosts," Lynne replied, shoving her bangs from her eyes. "The way he's taking care of himself, he'll BE one of you before much longer. He takes less than what I prescribed for him so that he can make his meds last fifty percent longer than they should, and I have seen what he buys at the grocery store. It's not healthy food. There've been no problems, but if he keeps up, that won't last."
"Now, that'll be a fun eulogy to put together," Blackie sarcastically remarked. "Not hardly."
"Blackwood!" his two aunts gasped.
"Nice you're the one in trouble," Thom Avery smiled. "I'm normally the one with foot in mouth disease."
"You get it from me," Jess frowned.
"You're just too honest," Adam smiled at her. "Do you need a jacket? You're shivering."
"Thanks, it IS colder here than in Texas," she sighed as he took his jacket off the back of his chair and placed it to her shoulders.
"I hope Claymore goes to the light," Daniel said, folding his cards. "Training him would make teaching Applegate look simple."
"I second that," Tristan nodded.
"I try to keep my sermons a balanced mix of law and grace, but I guess I COULD pull out one fire and brimstone one, try and scare him into straightening up and flying right," Blackie offered.
"I could send him flying," the Captain said with twinkling eyes.
"Daniel," Carolyn chided.
"I am simply trying to help the good doctor," the Captain said innocently.
Molly O'Casey laughed. "'Tis nice to see that some things do not change in a century. Daniel is still the naughty boy he was when he, Sean, and I were growing up. His Aunt Violet killed a lemon tree making switches."
"He is only every now and then," Carolyn blushed.
"You know," Dashire frowned, "Doctor, I think we might be onto something. Tomorrow IS Halloween, and the borders between dimensions ...," he winked at Jenny, whose love of science fiction had expanded his range of ghostly terminology, "...Are a bit more elastic. It seems to me that Fontenot told me once that on that night, if there is a tie, however slight between a ghost and a mortal, the mortal can, for one night only, get a near undeath experience and feel what it is like to be a ghost. Rather like Scrooge had on his trek with the ghosts of Christmas. Perhaps a dose of that would do old Clay a spot of good. Scare him into trying to take better care of himself by showing him how difficult it would be to be a, to borrow Elroy's phrase, good ghost."
"I guess for a good cause," Carolyn whispered, shooting the Captain a pained look.
He frowned. "Dash, Carolyn and I DO have a standing date tomorrow night, as you know."
"Blast, I forgot, not having such a blessing myself, sorry," the nobleman apologized.
"What?" the doctor asked.
"I'll tell you as soon as you marry a ghost, dear lady," Dash smirked.
"In your dreams, Charlie."
"Maybe a dream, any night of the year, like the Christmas one?" Candy suggested.
"Now, look, it's a good idea," Sean said. "And, I would hate for Clay to kill himself by neglect. Molly and I have that - experience all the time; Sig, Dash, and Tris - "
"You need not remind us, old son," Dash muttered.
"Can you manipulate time at all? Or the perception of it?" Dave asked, leaning forward.
"Yes, actually, the latter," Daniel nodded.
"So, an hour say, could seem like a long time," the young man continued.
"Aye," Sean grinned, glad that someone was getting where he was headed.
"And, for Claymore, any time under my tutelage would seem very long indeed," Daniel huffed. "The times I have schooled him, or tried to, have been abysmal."
"Ye didna have help, Danny. Don't you think that if Clay were a ghost, all of us would help you? If Sig can train Dakota, surely he could have luck with Claymore."
"Sean!" Molly reprimanded.
"Listen here, Sean, Dakota is a good dog. I'll thank you not to slander her," Siegfried huffed. "She's much brighter than Claymore."
"And, if all of us used a bit of our power, you wouldna be supplying it all. So, ye and Carrie could enjoy the night afterwards."
"And, you are a fantastic Henry Higgins, Captain Dad," Candy said.
"I am sort of fond of Claymore," Carolyn added.
"Very well, I will consent, but only for an hour," Daniel agreed.
"Turning you and Tris loose on Clay should make an hour seem eternal to him," Dash drawled.
"I could almost feel sorry for him," Lynne mused.
Halloween
"You are sure you don't mind delaying on our annual date for an hour or two, my dear?" the Captain asked Mrs. Gregg as he awaited his cohorts.
"Of course not, since it's for a noble purpose," she smiled. "I have every confidence in your ability to whip him into shape in short order. After all, you have managed it several times now; first when the Muirs visited, then for the Centennial games, when Harriet came, and finally, for my parents."
"And let's not forget when he had his own little Faustian incident," the spirit chuckled.
His wife joined him in the laughter. "I will never forget how he completely lost it when he saw the kids in their imp costumes. I wish I'd been asking for more than a fair deal on the lease and a fixed fence!"
"What I will always remember is how jumpy he was while repairing the fence and how he profusely thanked me for saving him as he took flight," Daniel smirked.
"Did you ever tell him Mr. Turner was all a dream?"
"Of course not," the Captain replied, adjusting his lapels.
"And, will tonight be a repeat performance, then?" Carolyn asked.
"No. We are only attempting to save his body, not his soul. We will make him think he is dead and a ghost by casting an illusion. He will be so convinced he is a ghost, but a powerless one, that he will not feel at all human."
She considered for a moment, then reached up to kiss Daniel's cheek. "Don't be too hard on him, sweetheart."
He turned to kiss her more fully. "Just enough to get him on track, and to amuse me, I promise." Lifting a brow, he added, "I do deserve some recompense for delaying our evening."
Later in the evening
By now, all trick-or-treaters knew that going to Mr. Gregg's house would only get them flyers for his business in their bags. Claymore did not have a date for the Halloween dance, so he had decided to just stay in with the porch light off, since the sky was cloudy enough to turn into rain without a moment's notice. He certainly was not expecting to see anyone before the next day at church.
"Auraughph!" he sputtered as the local branch of the spectral fraternity all appeared in his living room.
"Trick or treat," Tristan grinned from the ceiling.
"If it's you, I know it's a trick," Claymore accused, glaring from his "uncle" to the youngest ghost in turn.
"Now, dear boy, you shouldn't be so harsh in your thinking," Daniel adopted an aggrieved tone. "We came to help you."
"H-h-help me?" Claymore stammered. "What? Into an early grave?"
"Oh, we don't need to do that," Dash commented, rocking on his heels. "Come down, Tristan."
"Okay. This ceiling's not as comfortable as the one at Gull Cottage."
"What do you mean, you don't need to do that?" Claymore turned pale.
"I'm sorry, Claymore," Molly said softly.
"When we heard, we came immediately, knowing how much work's ahead of ye, lad," Sean nodded. "And, there's no sense in wastin' time."
"Exactly as I always say," Siegfried chimed in briskly. "Even when you do have all of eternity."
"Are you - am I - urplark," Claymore gulped. "I - can't be." He looked as if he might faint.
"You can't faint," the Captain cut in, reading the expression on his face. "Not yet, anyway. I'm sure Tris will perfect fainting, since he has mastered sleep."
"Why would I want to do that? Fainting serves no purpose," Tristan dissented. "Elroy might just figure out how, though."
"Come now, we do have afterlives to get back to," Siegfried cut in. "Wecametohelp, andhelpwearegoingto,RIGHTNOW."
"I am NOT a ghost!" Claymore blurted.
"Denial, typical response," Tristan sighed.
"We expected as much," the Captain agreed sagely. "If you don't believe us, Claymore, try to pick up something, anything."
Glaring defiantly, Claymore stalked over to a table and reached out to pick up a pencil, only to find that he could not. "You moved it!"
"No, I did not," Daniel replied. "You did not either."
Claymore sat down abruptly. "I - yy - I'y - I'm - ... "
"Yes, yes, get over it. We have work to do," Siegfried frowned. "On your feet, boy."
"Wait, if I'm a ghost, does that mean I get cool powers? I can fly like he does?" Claymore pointed at Tristan. "Or, walk through walls? And HE ...," now he pointed at Daniel, "... Can't hurt me?" He looked considerably happier.
"Actually, as the head ghost of this district, Danny can hurt anyone he pleases to hurt," Dash informed him pleasantly. "You are under his authority, now, old son."
"And, it takes time to learn how to be able to walk through walls or anything else," Molly gently said. "I was dead over a long time before I could be solid, and Elroy still has trouble goin' through walls or anything."
"He has improved, hasn't he?" Claymore asked.
"Yes, but he's been a ghost over a century and he's had to have THREE teachers to do so," the Captain replied. "No one bearing the name of Gregg can dither around being the sort of ghost who needs remedial training for that long."
"So, here we are, to begin your insruction," Siegfried concluded. "Now, I believe I said ON YOUR FEET!" With that, the chair was yanked out from under Claymore. The fall did not hurt him, but it was startling.
"I might point out, Claymore, that you did not actually sit upon that chair," the Captain informed him, folding his arms as he spoke. "We allowed it to support you. Had we not, you would have sunk through the floor to the cellar."
"I don't have one."
"Then, you would have sunk into the ground."
"With all the worms and so forth," Tristan added helpfully. He glanced at his watch. "Shouldn't we be be going?"
"Going? G-going where?" Claymore gasped. "W-wait. I can't be a ghost. I'm TOO young to be a ghost. I never even felt bad, except back in 1979 when I had that minor incident and landed in the hospital for tests."
"Funny," Tristan mused, "Neither did I. Did you, Captain?"
"No, I did not. And, you certainly milked that incident for a lot in the intervening years!"
"Me, either," Sean agreed. "Happens like that, sometimes. Just out of the blue." He snapped his fingers. "You just never know."
"I- I didn't make a will!"
"Yes," Dash frowned. "That is troubling, and you might wish to avoid Adam for some time. He was quite put out with you over that."
"Wh-what? But, I just died! How can he be mad already?" Claymore blinked.
"This happens with new spirits, not always, but often enough," Dash commented to his friends. "There was a lecture on it at one of the spectral fraternity meetings that was, for a change, almost interesting."
"Really? Sorry I missed it," Sean lifted a brow.
"What this?" Claymore demanded, trying to move forward to get their attention. "This what happens?"
"Time distortion," Molly said in a half-whisper. "Ye don't realize that days have passed, or years even, if ye're really unlucky."
"Days have passed?" Claymore looked as if he'd like to pass out again.
"Which brings me back to we need to get out of here," Tristan reminded them. "Your third cousin, twice removed, or is that second cousin, three times removed? Whatever, will be claiming your property any time now. We can't have you lingering around, getting in his way."
"He hung around getting in MY way," Claymore sulked, pointing at Daniel.
"Yes, but we cannot train you with movers coming in and out," Siegfried scowled.
"Movers? Where are you moving me? Why can't I haunt my own house?"
"Because we say so," the Captain snapped. "And the movers are not for you, but to pack up all this rubble to go to Goodwill, if they will have it."
"Goodwill? But- I need my things!" Claymore tried without success to grab hold of his desk. "What about my - my- books, my furniture, my money? Dash kept his money."
"No, Grace got my money, but she had her affairs set up so that the foundation was in place to maintain me in the style to which I was accustomed after her passing," Dash said reproachfully. "You did not manage things so well. And, even with my preparations, I still lost quite a lot over the years."
"Yes, greedy relatives are a pain in the southern regions," Daniel nodded. "Wouldn't you agree, Siegfried?"
"Quite right."
"But ... " Claymore looked utterly miserable. "Where will I live? Haunt? Whatever?"
"I'm sure you will find somewhere, but right now, you couldn't haunt a hovel respectably," Daniel barked.
"Wh-what if I want to do more than haunt? I want to be like you guys and sorta live, as you do," Claymore half-begged. "I mean, look, I can eat anything now, without any doctor sniping at me."
"Watch your mouth," Dash snapped. "Ly- DOCTOR Avery, is- was simply concerned for your mangy hide, though she got no thanks for it."
"Well, I still can. And, I can change my face. Not that there's anything wrong with this one, but maybe one with a little more hair would be nice," Claymore pouted. "Did I ever tell you I look like Gregory Peck?"
"The problems with those statements are many," Daniel cut him off. "First of all, learning to eat will take - "
"We could have him drinking in six months, but food- two years," Dash estimated. "Drinking water, that is. Coffee, tea, spirits, a year."
"And morphing one's face in an intangible state takes five years, at least," Sean guessed. "Being tangible is advanced, and a separate matter completely. Then, you have to learn how to combine them."
"Of course, it is all much easier if you have a healthy soul-bond with the living," Tristan pointed out, rocking on his heels. "I was doing pretty well, but then I came to Gull Cottage, and the difference was astounding."
"I did have my daughter all along," Dash agreed. "I'm sure that helped my advancement. Possibly Danny and Sean's also, once she understood that they had been helping me for several years."
"I have that! Not your daughter, but I've got all kinds of friends! Why- I bet my funeral will be packed!" Claymore piped up excitedly.
The Captain gave him a long look. "Do you? Are you sure of that?"
"Er ... "
"You missed your funeral," Siegfried stage-whispered.
"I - Was it packed?"
Molly patted his shoulder. "Ye have a second chance now. Once you learn how, ye can start all over."
"Could I at least see my obituary?"
"Ah ... ," the ghosts exchanged glances, with each other, then Sean was inspired to say, "It was so - so - ah - timeless that I memorized it." He immediately launched into an impromptu chorus of Poor Judd's Dead, substituting Clay for Judd.
Claymore looked on the verge of tears. "That was beautiful."
"We really must go," Daniel said. "We have wasted enough time."
The room went dark, then there was a flash of light, and they were elsewhere.
"What is this place?" Claymore looked around.
"An old warehouse of mine," Dash said. "It will do for a training ground."
"Why couldn't we - ?" Claymore began.
"Because I said so, now stop wasting time," Daniel frowned.
"Maybe we should have let him wait a while?" Sean suggested. "Adjust to being dead?"
"Oh, nonsense. He couldn't just hang around his old place getting used to it," Siegfried scoffed. "What if that removed cousin had seen him? We'd have had exorcists and mediums swarming the town."
"Still, if only he had paid attention to Doctor Lynne, this wouldn't be going on," Dash shook his head.
"Hey! I'm right here!" Claymore yelled.
"Sorry, old son. Another thing you must get used to, at least until you can manage being corporeal and changing your face to something less recognizable," Dash apologized. "People tend to talk about you as if you aren't around when one is dead. In most cases, you aren't, but sometimes you are."
"Er, yeah, I guess you're right," Claymore nodded, only slightly mollified. He didn't feel up to pointing out they were dead, too.
"There is much to be done," the Captain cut in. "Tristan, since you are the only completely self-taught member of the group, why don't you administer the first lesson?"
"Aye, sir," the youth nodded briskly. Slapping his hands together, he turned to face Claymore. "Right, then. Here is what I want you to do." He gave the ninny a serious look. "First, stand on your head. Then, balance on one hand only. Siegfried, once he's done that, stand on top of his feet. Finally, levitate ... " He scanned the room and located an object. "Ah- that vase over there, to begin with. We'll add more objects later."
"Erk? Ah - b-b-but - how? I can't do that!" Claymore sputtered.
"Tristan, he's right. How and why would ye have him do that?" Molly gasped.
Tristan shrugged, rocking on his heels. " At least I didn't ask that he do it in a suit of armor. During my self-imposed exile, I did take a break or two, and during one, I went to see The Empire Strikes Back. After the third showing of it, I realized that Jedi training might be effective for ghosts. So, I went back to Callahan Castle and tried it out. Since I am fully trained, I needed to add a degree of difficulty beyond the norm, so I popped into a knight and balanced myself upside down on one hand while levitating another suit." He paused to grin. "The maid fainted."
The Captain pinched his nose, trying to hide a chuckle at the image created. "Perhaps when he's farther along we can try that. For now, we'll do something elementary. I'll begin." He caught Claymore's attention. "All right, Claymore, stand up straight. Straight, I said."
"I AM standing up straight!" Claymore insisted. "Why does my posture matter?"
"Proper posture is essential to proper speech. Now, stand up STRAIGHT!"
Grudgingly, Claymore tried to comply. After several attempts, Daniel allowed that his pose would suffice. "Now, although I despise the triteness of it, I want you to make a ghostly noise."
"A-a- what?"
The Captain glanced at his fellow instructors. Obligingly, they responded with a host of "woo-woo, aaaahs, ooohs," and other spectral sounds. Claymore shuddered to hear the howling, but summoned up a feeble howl.
The group exchanged looks.
"Wouldn't scare a flea," Dash commented tersely.
"Put more ooo in it, maybe?" Molly suggested.
"Nononono," Siegfried countered. "It's more whoosh and a touch of aahahah he needs. Like so." He demonstrated.
"And there's too much of a 'y' sound in there," Sean opined. "Wouldn't you say, Danny?"
"I would say it's all wrong. Try again."
A long time later, the Captain announced that he should continue to practice, they had other things to do, and would be back in a day, perhaps two. On that note, the ghosts vanished. No sooner had they gone than there was a flash and Claymore felt a touch of vertigo. When he opened his eyes, they had returned.
"How did your practice go?" Sean asked.
"But, you just left! I couldn't practice," Claymore whined.
"I knew this was a foolish endeavor," Daniel fumed. "We have been gone two days and he has done not one thing toward becoming a ghost worthy of the name Gregg."
"T - t - two days?" Claymore gulped.
"Obviously, we need to teach him to properly reckon time, to anchor himself in the chronological continuum," Siegfried began rattling off. Although, for once, his speech was at a slow enough to be comprehensible rate, his words were little more than a babble of jargon to Claymore. "He is suffering from a distorted sense of his place in eternity."
"Oh, blast," Sean said for them all. "That can take up to five years to properly align once it gets out of whack."
"Five years? But- b-but I have to get back to my office!" Claymore yelped.
"It is not YOUR office any longer," Daniel reminded him. "Your cousin is having Adam inventory it and your - living area." This last word was said in such a way as to cast doubt on the aptness of that noun to describe the place.
"I believe Adam said that your relative has given direction to the effect that everything is going to be sent to various charities," Dash said with a frown.
"Ahem," Tristan cleared his throat and pulled Dash aside. "The Salvation Army and Goodwill both refused to take some of it. There will be a garage sale in a few weeks." He looked decidedly uncomfortable, then brightened. "On the positive side, Adam sent Candy to do the job, and she was able to rescue some of the Captain's things, which Adam has asked to have as part of his fee so he can pass them back to the Greggs. That is supposed to be a surprise, sir, by the way."
"Certainly," Daniel beamed.
"And James is looking into finding a good home for your bird," Siegfried added.
"Y-you mean it's all gone? I don't have any say in it? Just discarded? Like yesterday's news?" Claymore looked on the verge of tears.
"Afraid so," Dash said in a concilatory tone as he patted the poor fellow on the shoulder. "You know how it goes."
"Yes, once dead, one cedes their rights to property," the Captain chimed in, stroking his beard. "Or so it is assumed."
Suddenly, Claymore exclaimed, "HEY! I felt HIS hand on my shoulder. I MUST be improving!"
There was silence, then Dash shook his head. "No, old son. It simply means I can make myself felt. If you don't believe me, try to touch my shoulder."
Somewhat defiantly, Claymore poked Dash's shoulder, but his hand just went through. "You just - just- poofed out as I tried. No fair."
"I did no such thing," Dash scowled. "And, if you are going to insult my honor, I am leaving."
"No, not that. I just- I'm sorry. Please, don't go," Claymore babbled.
The nobleman thought it over, then nodded. "Very well, but watch it."
There was a space of silence, then the Captain said, "Siegfried, since you diagnosed his most prepossessing problem at the moment, why don't you help him orient to the proper chronological alignment?"
"Excellent idea," Siegfried agreed, clapping his hands together gleefully. "Come on, Claymore. You have work to do."
What felt like hours later, Siegfried called for a break for his own sake. Feeling more tired than he had in some time, Claymore looked around. "Could I have something to eat? I don't think I have had a morsel of anything in days." An utterly forlorn expression filled Claymore's face. His beady eyes landed on Dash again; the English ghost was calmly drinking a cup of tea while eating a snickernoodle. "HE'S eating." He looked around and saw that Tristan was popping M & M's into his mouth. "So is he! And no one has offered me a taste."
"We were being polite," Dash stated simply.
"Polite? Since when is it polite to eat in front of a starving man?" Claymore demanded indignantly.
"Since you are NOT starving and your ability to eat is, at a minimum, months away," the Captain reminded him icily. "Standing around blathering about it is only making that date farther in the future."
Claymore did not say a word, just sank down to the ground, not even caring that he sank into the floor to a degree. "I can't do it. I just can't. This is so hard."
"Pity you did not think of that, or how much you will miss seeing, before you died," Sean observed, for once not being gentle.
"Aye," Molly said in support of her husband's statement. "Ye'll surely have to move away as soon as possible. Your own face is too recent, and ye willna be able to alter and hold another face for quite some time, yet. Such a pity. Amberly is a fine lass, and she's just the first child who will never know ye."
Claymore sniffled pitifully. "No one will call me Uncle Claymore. Even if I can move back in not too long a time, I'll have to be someone else, like you are." He looked at the Captain. "I don't even have my name, now, do I?"
Wordless head shakes answered him.
"Oh, blast," he sighed. A pained look filled his face. "I can't even thunder."
"While a basic skill, it is not among the most basic," Daniel said in an instructional tone. "You need to be able to focus on aligning yourself to time, fading in and out at will, going through walls, levitation, and self-transportation."
"And ghostly noises," Tristan piped up.
"What about ...?" Claymore put his hands on either side of his head and yanked.
"You seem to have gesticulating in an odd manner down pat," Siegfried said encouragingly.
"Thanks, but no, that's not what I meant. Taking off my head? I mean, sheesh, Elroy can do that!" Claymore clarified.
"Applegate is not all that terrible, really," a new voice rumbled seconds before Fontenot appeared. Glancing around, he gave the crew an amused look. "So, this is your latest project."
Claymore's expression managed to be a cross between excited and terrified. "Great! YOU'RE here, now I can be really taught! By someone who's what a teacher is supposed to be, that is."
Thunder from several sources shook the room, knocking Claymore to the ground.
"I do believe we have been insulted," Dash remarked icily. "Again."
"Perhaps he would like to go it on his own?" the Captain suggested rhetorically.
"It will be his sole option if he drives you lot off," Fontenot nodded, crossing his arms as he stared at the shaking pupil. "Claymore, you are at least fifty, no make that seventy-five years, away from becoming my student. AND, that is only IF you obey these instructors and excel at their lessons. I don't teach ABC's and I don't stand for insubordination."
Claymore's mien crumbled a little, but he managed to jut his chin out as he pointed at Tris, "HE said that he taught himself. And Spooky did really well at being a ghost long before he met you."
Fontenot shrugged elaborately. "The basics are fairly simple to teach one's self, for the average ghost, and training yourself the advanced stages is possible if one has a natural talent for them. Rather like having perfect pitch." He paused. "I do believe these gentlemen would have discovered such a trait in you by now. At most, I can help you relocate."
"I don't want to relocate! I like Schooner Bay!" Claymore yelled.
"Whether you can stay or go is entirely dependent upon your diligence and aptitude," the Captain said. "And upon my tolerance!"
"Just a suggestion," Fontenot said, "But, Claymore, human conventions, such as courtesy still do apply to spirits."
"He means apologize," Molly added.
Looking as if he might refuse, Claymore was silent for a minute, then mumbled, "Sorry."
"Lacks sincerity," Sean commented. "But, might be the best we can hope for."
"And, we cannot leave him in such a sorry state as this, I suppose," Dash said in disgust. "Carolyn would be unhappy with us all if we did."
"Do you promise to refrain from making rude comments and to apply yourself better?" Daniel demanded of his "nephew."
"Yes, sir."
"Very well, we will continue to work with you," the seaman assented.
"You all look as if you could use a drink," Fontenot said. "Why don't you leave him to practice a while? I managed to locate an excellent bottle of hundred year old wine."
"Now, that sounds like a fine idea," Daniel grinned. "Claymore, you practice popping and walking through walls until we return."
"Wait! Can't I go t -- " Claymore started to yelp, but he was speaking to empty air.
It seemed as if countless days passed with anywhere from one to all half dozen ghosts appearing at irregular intervals to attempt to teach Claymore. They all had wildly varying styles of instruction, ranging from Tristan's cross between specter and Jedi training methods to Siegfried's micro-managing to Molly's gentle patience to the Captain's imperiousness.
When next the whole group met in Claymore's "schoolhouse," they found him sitting on the floor in utter dejection.
"What's wrong?" Molly asked when he did not even look up.
"Everything. Is Blackie still the preacher in Schooner Bay?"
"Aye," Sean blinked, completely confused.
"Could you bring him here? Please?" Claymore begged.
"Do you want to confess your sins?" Daniel asked ironically, recalling the time the twit had asked HIM that.
"No, well, maybe. If it would help. I thought he might be able to tell me how to get out of this and just - just - " Claymore gesticulated as if he was flying away. "You know, up there. Go to the light or whatever. I'm no good at being a spook. I give up."
"So, you might be interested in a second chance?" Daniel smoothly inquired.
"A- " Claymore gulped. " Second chance? Really? I could get one? But, why didn't you," he couldn't help but peer at Captain Gregg and Tris, "go for one, then? I mean when you - er - got involved with - humans? Sorry, bad Claymore. Bad question."
The pair looked at each other before glancing at their friends, then Daniel nodded. "Go on, lad. You tell him."
With an exasperated and somewhat exhausted look, Tristan went over and laid a hand on Claymore's shoulder. "Close your eyes, Claymore. Please." Claymore obeyed, somewhat fearfully. "I will tell you. I can speak only for myself, but yes, if I was given a shot at having a body again, or had been given that shot earlier, yes, I would have 'gone for it', as you put it. However, I am a ghost and to the best of my knowledge, such is not an option. You are not a ghost, which explains why you can't master the most basic of spectral abilities."
Claymore's eyes snapped open to see that his home was once more all around him and the calendar from the bank still said October 31, 1981. "W-w-YOU TRICKED ME!"
With a grin, Tristan quipped, "'Tis the season."
"Only for your own good, Claymore. If you continue on your current path of self-destruction, you will be a ghost and we will be even harder on you," the Captain said.
"Yes, so be a good lad and stop doing things that worry the people who give a damn about you," Dash added testily.
"It was all ... "
"An illusion," Daniel affirmed. "A most advanced ghostly skill, if I do say so myself."
Sean snorted in amusement. "Aye, ye would. Go on, Danny, keep your date for tonight. I think Clay here has seen the light."
"Rather than going to it," Molly laughed.
XXX
Shortly after the Captain popped out to rejoin his lady, only slightly later than intended, the other ghosts put Claymore to sleep and dispersed.
The next morning, Claymore woke up with a start. Very tentatively, he felt every piece of furniture he could find without his glasses being on. He turned on the radio and impatiently waited for the news to come on so that he could hear the announcer say the date. When he realized that he felt hungry, he was jubilant. He had not felt hungry when he had thought he was a ghost. He had wanted to eat, but that was different than feeling the need to. Yet, in light of that experience, he was careful about what he ate.
Ed Peavey was an usher at church, and when he passed the collection plate down Claymore's pew, he nearly fell over when he saw the noted miser put in a twenty. He had never seen that happen!
After the choir sat down following the morning anthem, Blackie took the podium. He rather fancied that the ghosts were trying very hard to look especially innocent and Claymore did look rather rattled. But, that was normal for Clay.
"Happy All Saint's Day and Reformation Sunday to you," he began. "In light of Halloween, I did consider a fire and brimstone sermon in keeping with the scare theme, but I found a better topic. Since today is a day to celebrate the saints, and all Christians, regardless of how many posthumous miracles they perform, are considered saints, the primary text today is Hebrews Chapter Eleven, the roll call of faith. But, as you should know by now, I tend to go all over the Bible, so don't get too comfortable there. I'm sure you have all heard the phrase patience of a saint, but I got to thinking this week about how much patience God has to have with His saints. For example, when He told Moses what his mission in life was to be, did Moses say 'yes, Sir?' No, he started in immediately trying to get out of it." For the next twenty minutes Blackie went through the Bible, citing the failings of various characters. "Lest you think my whole purpose on this Sunday is to slam the heroes of the faith, it is not. Moses' unwillingness, David's indiscretion, Paul's murderous intentions, and Peter's big mouth are not their whole stories. The important thing about all these men and women is that even after they said and did all the wrong things, God still used them. He gave them second, third, and seventy times seven chances to get it together. Yes, they suffered and were punished at times, but in the end, all things worked together for their good."
When church was over and the crowd filed out to the fellowship hall for coffee, punch, cookies, and so forth, Claymore only took a small cup of punch and one of the smallest cookies. He even offered to stay and help the family clean up after the congregation departed.
"Claymore, have you been imbibing?" Martha asked.
"No! I just got to thinking and - er- Blackie's sermon was very - hard hitting, you know. It got to me."
"Nothing else?" Candy asked, pausing as she swept the floor.
"Well," Claymore fidgeted. "Captain, was last night real? Was I dreaming, or did you guys all get together to do something that was either really mean or really nice for me?"
"I am not nice," Daniel grumbled. "But, since I do not wish to be deprived of dessert for two weeks, I cannot tell you a lie, especially in church. You were given a vivid hallucination by me, with the help of my crew, that predicted the inevitable result of your current course if it is not altered." He scowled. "We did not do it for you. Carolyn and the doctor were worried about you."
"We all were," Jenny corrected.
"So, does this mean you're mending your ways?" Lynne asked, her arms crossed over her chest.
"I can't promise, but yeah, I'll try," the reedy man nodded. "And, please, Tris, no Jedi quotes about there being no try! I had all of those I can take for a while."
Carolyn smiled and stood on her tiptoes to kiss her husband's cheek. "Thank you," she whispered.
"My dear," he softly replied, "I did not do it solely for you. He would make a miserable, wretched excuse for a ghost."
THE END
Author's second note - If I was a bit harsh on Clay, my only justification is I WISH someone had scared my Dad and my Mom about their not sticking to their diets or giving up smoking. Asking and pleading never worked. Maybe they'd still be here.
BIRTHDAY TOAST
BEGINNING OF A BEAUTIFUL FRIENDSHIP
WHO IS NEEDED? Dr. Who/Avengers GAMM TIE IN
CHRISTMAS PRESENCE
GETTING TO KNOW YOU
THE CAPTAIN'S MEMOIRS
FROM THIS DAY ON
SERENDIPITY
ONE HALLOWEEN
CHRISTMAS BLUES
RESOLUTIONS
IN GOOD SPIRITS
VALENTINE HOMECOMING
THE BEST LAID PLANS
PAST SINS
IN ALL THE WAYS THAT COUNT
TO EVERYTHING, THERE IS A SEASON
HALLOWEEN WITH FRIENDS
A MEETING OF MINDS AND HEARTS
WHEN THE STARS COME OUT-FLASHBACK
A TIME TO MAKE PROMISES
A PRESENT OF THE PAST
JENNY'S SURPRISE
MOTHER'S DAY
BIRTHDAYS, SHIPS AND FRIENDSHIPS
I WON'T SAY GOODBYE-FLASHBACK
WHEN LEGENDS MEET
CHANGES
WEDDING CONSPIRACY
MARTHA'S WISH GRANTED
KNOWING THE TRUTH THAT HAUNTS ME
BROTHERLY LOVE
HEART'S MEMORIES
THE DUEL
SPACE BETWEEN
CLAYMORE TO THE RESCUE
GHOST RIDERS
RELATIVITY
TODAY I AM NOT A GHOST
HELLO, GOODBYE, HELLO
GIFTS OF THE HEART
JANE SHOEMAKER STRIKES AGAIN
RETURN OF THE GHOST HUNTER
A WEDDING IN THE FAMILY
THE HEALING
ANOTHER LIFE
A SEASON OF CONFUSION
GARNETS
AND THEN THERE WAS…
A CHARACTER BUILDING EXPERIENCE
TO LIFE
METAMORPHOSIS
KEEP IT IN THE FAMILY
THE ONLY THING CONSTANT
MAKING MEMORIES
THE HARDEST THING
ALL THINGS WORKING TOGETHER FOR GOOD
MEETING OF THE MILES
QUESTIONS ANSWERED
ONLY IN DREAMS