Chapter 4
The last time Sheldon saw his grandfather was two days after he was five. His father had been in an alcohol-induced fit of rage, and Mary Cooper desperately wanted to get her children away from him. She sent Missy to a Girl Scout meeting, Georgie to a friend's house, and Sheldon to his grandparents' house. Sheldon was the favorite grandchild, there was no doubt about that.
"Be good Shelley." Mary kissed Sheldon on the cheek, making the five-year-old boy feel a bit annoyed.
"I will Mother." Sheldon mumbled.
Mary walked back to her car, and Sheldon looked expectantly up to his grandmother.
"Well Moonpie, I have a batch of cookies in the oven, and Pop-Pop has a new textbook for you." She said cheerfully. "How does that sound?"
"That sounds splendid, Meemaw." Sheldon smiled, and trotted after her.
As soon as Sheldon went into his grandparents' house he knew something was wrong. The house was normally tidy, with the smell of hot cocoa and cookies. Sheldon's grandfather would almost always be at his desk, working on whatever it was he worked on all day. Whenever Sheldon came over, his Pop-Pop would turn around, smile, and give him a brand-new college textbook.
Now the house was messy, books scattered everywhere, dust coating every little surface, and papers scattered in random places-on top of bookshelves, under the kitchen table, even spilling out of the silverware drawer. The smells were as they should be, but Pop-Pop's desk was empty. Everything else was a bit odd, but the vacant desk was simply unnerving, especially to Sheldon, who couldn't stand changes in routine.
"Meemaw, what happened?" Sheldon cried in alarm.
"Sorry dear." Sheldon waited for excuses from his grandmother but there were none.
"Where's Pop-Pop?" Sheldon asked.
"Oh...Moonpie..." His grandmother bit her lip. "He's sick again."
Fear bit Sheldon's insides. "Again? How bad is it?"
"Bad." His grandmother confessed. She never lied to Sheldon. Not once. "He's in bed."
"Can I see him?"
"Janice?" A weak voice called from the back of the house. "Is Sheldon here?"
Sheldon's grandmother sighed. "He's in here Gerald!" She shouted. Then she turned back to Sheldon. "You can go see him."
Sheldon nodded, and solemnly headed to his grandfather's room.
Gerald Larson, Mary Cooper's father and Sheldon's grandfather was propped up in bed against multiple pillows. He was pale, thin, sickly, and Sheldon's stomach tightened at the sight of him. But his grandfather was typing something furiously on his computer, so that was reassuring.
"Pop-Pop?" Sheldon asked softly.
"Sheldon!" Gerald jumped in his bed excitedly, but was instantly overwhelmed by a fit of coughs.
"Meemaw said you wanted to see me?" Sheldon said nervously, moving next to his grandfather's bed.
"Yes, I did. Come here, boy, I don't have much strength in me." Sheldon sat on the edge of the bed.
"Have you gone to the doctor to see what your illness is?" Sheldon asked. "I've made a list of possible diseases, but to be honest, they don't match up with your age or your current symptoms, and I forgot my notes at home."
Sheldon's grandfather studied him and let out a sigh.
"Shelley, you may just be too smart for your own good." He murmured.
"What are you talking about Pop-Pop?" Sheldon interrupted.
"Nothing. I want to tell you a story."
"Pardon?" Sheldon studied his grandfather for a moment, utterly perplexed. "Pop-Pop, you know I do not particularly care for storytime."
"I know, Sheldon, I know." The old man rubbed his forehead for a moment. "But this is a true story, Shelley. And this is the last chance I'll get to tell you it before I have to leave this world."
"Pardon?" Sheldon said again.
"Sheldon, I need you to just listen. This is very important. More important then anything else you've ever read, heard about, or seen. All right? Can you listen?"
Sheldon nodded slightly. His grandfather began.
"Approximately twenty years ago, your grandmother and I went to visit an old friend of ours, and his two daughters. We stayed with them for about a year. You would've liked the younger daughter. She was so full of curiousity about the scientific world, and so smart, Sheldon, and so sweet. Universities loved her. Everyone called her an angel. Unfortunately, her father favored his elder daughter, and often overlooked the youngest." Gerald took a deep, shaky breath and continued. "One day-they got into a fight. I remember it even now. It was horrible Shelley, absolutely horrible. It was so bad that afterwards the youngest daughter was found dead in their pool. Everyone said she killed herself."
Sheldon shivered as he heard his grandfather's tale. "She commited suicide?" He had learned that term from books.
"No she didn't."
"But you said-"
"Her death was a mistake." Sheldon's grandfather took Sheldon's hand shakily. "She's still out there, Shelley. The Angel is still out there, and she's no angel, at least, not anymore."
"You're scaring me." Sheldon whimpered. "Why is this important? Why are you telling me this?"
"Sheldon, the reason I didn't go to the doctor for my illness is because I know there's nothing they can do." Gerald said softly.
It was like a weight had come crashing down on him. Sheldon couldn't breathe. He knew exactly what his grandfather was saying.
"I'm so sorry Sheldon." He continued. "But you need to remember this-The Angel is still out there. And if you ever see her, you need to destroy her. Hate has turned her evil, and she's smart enough to bring the entire world to her knees. After she died, she managed to drive her father insane."
"But she's dead." Sheldon pointed out nervously.
His grandfather gave him a wry smile. "Exactly."
The next day, Gerald was found dead by Janice Larson. He had died in his sleep. The funeral was only one day afterward. Little Sheldon barely had time to mourn. As he watched the coffin being lowered to the ground, he thought he saw a blond, teenage girl standing next to the pit. He never saw her face, but she waved at him.
Then she was gone.
Sheldon wanted to forget everything. His grandfather was wrong, he told himself. Science could solve anything. Ghosts weren't real. Neither was an evil angel. It was all in comic books. That was a fact. Part of him knew he should forget it all.
Too bad Sheldon had an eidetic memory.
Sheldon immediately shrugged off her arm as soon as Penny was gone. The ghost girl looked annoyed but didn't protest.
His mind was furiously trying to comprehend what was taking place. First the ghost was stalking him, and now she was sitting on a couch wanting to have a pleasant conversation with him. The fact that ghosts even existed was enough to scramble Sheldon's mind, but now there was dead person sitting next to him. At least she wasn't in his spot.
"What's your name?" That was the first question that came out of Sheldon's mouth.
"I already said, Moonpie. My name's Lacey." Sheldon felt a twinge of contempt at the sarcasm (but to be honest, he was surprised he had noticed it). He tried to think of what to ask. He definately didn't want to upset her, but there were so many questions he wanted to ask.
"Why did you want the locket? Are you really dead? How come Penny saw you? When did you die? How old are you? Am I going crazy? Are-"
Lacey held up her hands. "Okay, okay! Chill. I'll answer your questions. first of all, yes I'm dead. Just saying. And I was nineteen when I died, and that was in 1967. So-"
"1967?!" SHeldon was completely flabbergasted before he noticed that her jeans were bell-bottoms. And the black leather jacket was more of a male fashion in the 60's then female, but perhaps Lacey was a tomboy when she was alive.
"Yes, I think so. Who's president now?"
"Obama."
"When I was alive, it was Lyndon B. Johnson." Lacey said. "The Vietnam War's ended, right?"
Sheldon nodded wordlessly.
"That's what I thought. I just wanted to make sure. You're the first person I've talked to in...a while." Lacey let out a sigh. "Anyway, I died in a...house fire. Just a house fire. I'd be 66 now if I had lived. Damn house fire." Lacey emphasized this by snapping her fingers in dissapointment.
"You're lying." It was automatic. Sheldon had no idea why.
"What?" Lacey's eyes narrowed at him.
"You didn't die in a fire. Wouldn't you be all burnt up now?"
Lacey glared at him. "Fine." She snapped. "I drowned. Got it?"
Drowned. A cold feeling wrapped around Sheldon's skull and he automatically shivered. Drowned.
"The Angel is still around..."
It can't be her. That story couldn't be true. It was all a coinsedence.
"Have I missed anything?" Lacey's voice was cold.
Sheldon shut down that theory immediately. His grandfather had been declared mentally ill, which had caused a simple fever to kill him. He hadn't known what he was talking about.
"Why do you want the locket?" Sheldon asked for the second time.
"It's my link to the mortal plane." Lacey replied.
"I don't understand."
"See how I'm solid? That's the locket's doing. If I take it off, I become my true form, which is the one you originally saw. I need it if I'm going to stay on Earth. If I don't have it, I can travel to other worlds, but I would eventually end up in heaven or hell. Whichever my soul is damned to spend eternity in." Lacey explained. "And I want to stay on Earth. So I need my locket. And Penny could see me because I'm solid. If I take the locket off, I can only show myself to whom I chose."
"You can choose to stay on Earth when you die?" Sheldon asked, already thinking about continuing his work in science.
"Sort of. I'm a bit of a rebel." Lacey smirked.
Sheldon glanced at the glittering gold on Lacey's neck. "Is the locket yours?"
"Yes."
The pieces clicked together. "You're Proffesor Rothman's daughter."
Lacey laughed. It was a cold and chilling laugh, and the hairs on the back of Sheldon's neck stood up.
"That old coot?" Lacey sneered. "Oh please. I'm not his daughter. Not anymore. To be honest, I don't think my old man is even remotely sane anymore."
"He's your father!" Sheldon protested. "It's a non-optional social convention-"
"Save it Moonpie." Lacey snapped. "Non-optional social convention. Please. Don't pull that one on me Moonpie. You should talk."
Sheldon felt like he had been hit in the gut, hard.
"You little dickhead..."
"Shut up." Sheldon lashed out angrily. He didn't normally speak out of anger, but he hated when anyone brought up his father.
"You should have seen what Rothamn did to me." Lacey stood up. Her braid was starting to unravel itself. "He got me killed!"
"How? You said you drowned!" Sheldon countered.
Lacey literally hissed in rage and towered over Sheldon. The physicist winced, and drew back. Then, just like that, she relaxed, turned around, and headed to the door. Grasping the doorknob, she stopped and turned around, facing him.
"I'll be back, Moonpie." Lacey snarled. "And you better hope that you don't make me mad again. I know a lot more about you then you do about me."
Then she was gone.
Again.
Sheldon stared at the slammed door for a moment, then got up and went to his desk. He whipped out a post-it note and scribbled a quick message-
Penny,
Went to visit a friend. Took the bus.
-Sheldon
He stuck it on the couch, grabbed his coat, (and bus pants) and left the apartment.
A/N-I would have updated sooner, but I was out staying in a friend's cabin for a few days and I couldn't bring my laptop. Anyway, now you finally know the name of the ghost girl. I wasn't sure what Sheldon's granparents' names are, so I just said the first ones that popped to mind. This story was actually inspired by another, very popular, widely known story. Try to guess it. As usual, review, follow, do whatever you need to do, and a big thank-you to whoever already did.