All characters, except Ariel, belong to R.A. Dick's estate and to Fox Studios. No infringement is intended, simply entertainment. This is NOT a Day On story, obviously, and was inspired by the descriptions I've read of the new show New Amsterdam.
Several months after Wedding Day
Following the tacit admissions of love between Carolyn Muir and the ghost of Daniel Gregg, their relationship had become progressively, albeit subtly, more intimate in the weeks that followed. Their Madeira afternoons had moved from being casual to sacrosanct, and had increased in frequency. During those short respites from the outside world, the pair discussed everything, from cabbages to kings, or merely sat, enjoying each other's' silent company. Now that both Candy and Martha knew that they lived in a benevolently haunted house, it had become easier to schedule time for an indulgence like this.
As the latest one drew to a close, Captain Gregg exerted all of his mental power and forced his hand to become briefly more substantial as he reached out towards the lovely young widow. If he had been able, he surely would have broken out in a sweat from the effort. "Madam, a word, if you please?" he asked.
Startled, she looked down to the point where her flesh was being brushed by the most gentle of touches, a feathery warmth that was more real than any touch she had ever experienced for all its lack of true tangibility. "Of course," she replied, her mouth going dry. "Er- how long have you been able to do this?"
He smiled. "I've been working on it for months now. May I continue?"
Mutely, she nodded.
"Mrs. Muir, Carolyn, I wanted you to know – of all the beauties I dated, to use modern vernacular, of all the wonders I beheld in life, you are head and shoulders above them all and the most dear person to ever touch this old salt's heart." Frustrated, he paused, frowned as he searched for the right words. "If such things as soul mates exist, I believe you are mine, though the timing of finding you is most inconvenient. I never thought to tell you this, my dear, but that first night you were here, I wished that we had been born in the same time, and that wish has only intensified."
Eternity hung in the air between them, then Carolyn nodded. "I thought that was a dream. I- I feel the same way, Daniel."
If it were possible, they would have kissed, but even such a puissant ghost did not have that much strength.
Carolyn stood there, not sure whether to go or stay, but an urgent call of "Mom!" from one of the children made the choice for her. With a regret filled smile, she made her exit.
Neither Carolyn nor the rest of the family, not even Jonathan, who was the first to discover the ghost and had been close to him longer than anyone in the clan, saw the spirit for the rest of the evening. Though she did not relate their conversation to her children and housekeeper, Carolyn wondered if that small touch had overly taxed his resources. Yet, mindful of his pride, she would not ever express such a thing aloud.
When the ghost's absence stretched out to two days, it was time for her to be alarmed. The timing of this disappearance and his lack of notice about it had her concerned, even scared. What could have become of him?
As the third day ensued, Martha took Mrs. Muir aside. "Now, I don't know how all this ghost business works, quite yet, but is this usual? Did you two have a fight or anything? Or, does he go to an annual convention?"
Mrs. Muir shook her head. "He has gone off before, and not always because he was mad about something I'd done." Red stained her cheeks as she thought about the monkey puzzle tree and Scruffy's disappearance. She refused to even think about Madame Tibaldi. "I don't know why he's gone now, but I'm worried. I know nothing can hurt a ghost, but still."
"For a dead guy, he's very alive," Martha nodded. "Maybe I should invite Claymore over and try to get him to do something stupid or talk about being the Captain's nephew? In other words, make him good and mad?"
"I don't think he's here," Carolyn fretted, her voice dropping in unhappiness. "The house feels wrong."
"Yeah, I noticed that too, but hoped I was off-base," Martha sighed. "So, he probably wouldn't hear if Claymore came around claiming to be his heir or trying to pull a fast one, and if he could, he'd be able to hear me now trying to figure how to con him and not fall for it." She looked rueful.
Patting her on the shoulder, Carolyn smiled. "It was worth a thought. I'm sure he will return, soon." She nodded decisively as she tried to convince herself as much as the older woman. "Of course he will."
XXX
Pain was the first thing that Daniel Gregg was aware of; pain the like of which he had not experienced in decades. Being dead was supposed to lack tactile sensation, a fact he had regretted far too often, but now, he would prefer to return to that cushion of non-feeling. It seemed as if every nerve he had ever had was on fire.
This was wrong.
"Think about when your foot would go to sleep during a long, tedious watch," a voice intoned, breaking through the miasma of agony. "As it came to life, you would feel prickles and hated the discomfort of it. This is a more severe case, but all over your body."
"I don't have a body," the Captain grumbled.
"You do now." The voice sounded amused.
"That is impossible," Daniel snapped acerbically.
"For ordinary people, and yes, I realize you do not like to consider yourself such, but compared to the heavenly hosts, you are simply that." There was a pause. "If you would open your eyes, my good fellow, things might be clearer."
It had been so long since he had truly closed his eyes, not just cast an illusion of so doing; or actually had any to close, that the ghost had not realized they were not open. Hesitatingly, he deliberately obeyed. "Why were they – "
"You've been asleep for three days, almost four, now," the unseen speaker replied. "Your sleep debt was substantial when you died, since you never rested more than half a dozen hours, and then, only in cases of exhaustion. You have not been at peace for hardly any time during the last century, perhaps longer. Therefore, the deficit has increased; and while you cannot catch up in one fell swoop, you did need to whittle it down somewhat."
None of this made a lick of sense. "Why?" he demanded. Some distant part of his mind warned he might be sassing an angel, but he was confused, in pain, and angry.
"Because you now have a mortal form again," was the simple reply. "Those require things like rest."
Telling himself that what he felt was no worse than a hundred things he had endured during his lifetime, Daniel forced the agony to the back of his mind. Perhaps he should be delighted to be able to feel once again, but he was not so inclined. "Such metamorphoses do not happen," he insisted. "What has been done to me? Are the Muirs – you said three days, almost four had elapsed; what has become of them?" If he had been gone for that long, he knew the family would be worried, but all the Captain could do for now was hope he would get the opportunity to explain, and that he would have a rational way to do so.
"They are concerned about you," the still invisible voice's owner informed him. "However, you will soon be ready to re-enter their lives and you may tell them why you were gone. I do believe their joy over your new status will override any anxiety or annoyance."
"What new status?"
"I told you, Daniel, you have a body now. Your life was paused for a span of years; now, the time has come for you to resume it, in the modern world."
There was silence. This was too much to absorb. A thousand questions zigzagged through the apparently former ghost's mind. Why and how had this happened? What did it mean?
As if reading his thoughts, his companion remarked, "You need to eat now. After a hundred years, you should be starving. While you partake, I will attempt to penetrate that thick skull of yours with a satisfactory explanation."
Now, Captain Gregg was aware of the nausea wrenching his guts, but he had gone hungry often enough that he could realize it was the sort of queasiness produced by an over abundance of emptiness. Without a word, he accepted the meal he suddenly found resting on a tray on a table before him.
"Pancakes, no butter or syrup; you are a most unusual man in that preference, only one percent of one percent of people enjoy that, milk, and all the fruits you like best. Meat would be too complex for your insides, at the moment."
"I can see what I am eating. If you would, get on with the explanation," he growled before taking a tentative bite; it proved to be sheer manna. He disliked this situation. For one thing, it smacked of magic, and another, he could discern nothing about this benefactor who was somewhere in the room, though he could not see them or even determine their sex from their voice.
"I have no gender. The traditional introduction would include the words 'Fear not,' however; your emotions did not seem to be given to that, just anger. I am an angel; albeit a minor one, Ariel, sent to help you transition from the in-between state you have been in back into true life."
The Captain nodded.
"The how is something I cannot explain; knowing how the Father creates forms is something beyond lesser creatures' ken. Suffice it to say that your old body was repaired and you were put in it."
"But, my grave … "
"The coffin is empty, but there is no reason to open it, now is there?" Ariel asked rhetorically. The angel was silent, as if listening to something. "Resuscitation would describe the process, probably, even though more than a century has passed. "The why is easy; once upon a time, you were kind to a stranger, a special soul sent into your life to provide you with the opportunity to be kind and earn this reward. Because of that, a promise was made. You would not pass from this world until you enjoyed a lifetime with your soul mate. At the peak of your vitality, you were taken out of life and placed into what you considered a ghostly state in between worlds, until she you were destined to love crossed your path. When you both admitted that love, then the time was right to grant the fullness of the blessing upon you. That the process took several days can only be attributed to the fact that adjusting to having a body is a painful process that I doubted you wanted your love and family to witness." Another pause came. "Of course, you will not be able to invisibly eject Claymore any longer. But, you may find having a tie to the community, no matter how feeble, is a good thing."
"What stranger?" Daniel frowned. He could not recall any special good deed.
"That you do not remember is a mark in your favor. You do not horde your recollections of good deeds." Ariel sounded pleased. "Once upon a time, a young lady on her way to meet her fiancé and elope collapsed, sick from exhaustion, on your doorstep at Gull Cottage. You took her in and cared for her for the four days necessary to recover her strength. Then, you rented a carriage and delivered her to the young man's keeping. You also wired him ahead of that time to reassure his mind when she did not arrive on schedule. Then, you let them step on your ship and conducted a brief marriage ceremony. Also, you refused recompense. He muttered a blessing over you as you left, but you failed to hear it, and you do not understand Dutch, in any case." Amusement returned to the angel's tone. "Their third child's several times over grandchild is fated to be one of God's most notable missionaries, in another few decades, that is. He will spread the gospel to some previously unreachable areas; that is, if you and his great-great grandmother will hurry up and get married."
"Pardon?" Daniel blinked.
"Your descendant, and Carolyn's, will become that missionary. She is a direct heir of that young couple."
A shiver coursed down his spine.
"Yes, I can see how mortals would find Divine plans to be eerie, from time to time. What should truly amaze you is that you were given a clue as to how it worked out; few are granted that. However, it seemed necessary to tell you a bit extra."
The room became brighter, and Daniel realized that it was not a room he was in at all, but was standing on the road, several hundred yards away from his own front gate.
"I've taken the liberty of dressing you in modern clothes and equipping you with the other necessities," Ariel informed him as he or she appeared beside him. Daniel still could not determine which pronoun would suit. "I believe you know the way from here?"
A smile broke across his face. "Yes, absolutely I do."
"Then, go home, Daniel Gregg."
As Ariel faded away, something Daniel rejoiced in not being able to do himself, he thought he could hear a voice whisper, "Be sure and invite God to the marriage."
With a nod, he began to hurry, to run even, towards his palace. How they would cope with the change was something he did not know yet, but he had every confidence that they would, all of them; Carolyn, the children, Martha, Scruffy, even Claymore.
The cold, December air only vaguely infringed on his awareness and it occurred to him that Christmas was but days away. He already had his gift, a new life. Later, he would reflect on how appropriate that was. Christ entered mortality to give everyone something even more wonderful, but could still be called by that label.
The knock he gave was a mixture of impatience and exultation. When Carolyn opened the door, shadows were clear under her eyes, and he knew himself to be their cause, but rather than apologize or explain, he pulled her into his arms for a kiss.
"Now, you are not dreaming, my darling," he whispered.
Epilog
That was the first day of a forty-four year long romance fulfilled. In addition to Candy and Jonathan, three more children were born to Captain and Mrs. Gregg. By the time they died in their sleep, hand in hand on the same night, there were eleven grandchildren and more than double that number of great-grandchildren.