Chapter 7:George the Ham and Adam's Jam
"Everyone wanders into the ballroom sooner or later," said George as he and Clarisse descended the staircase down to the dance floor. He smiled when he saw the astounded expression on Clarisse's face. "Amazing, isn't it?"
Looking in wonder at all the spirits, the mortal replied, "Breathtaking." She let out a yelp as a transparent couple waltzed through her. Shuddering, she muttered, "I will never get used to that."
George was stopped in mid chuckle as a plump redhead who had been sitting at the table suddenly sprinted up and hugged him tightly around his waist, making him wheeze. Had he been alive, Clarisse mused, she would have heard his spine crack. "Oh, hello, Georgie!" the elderly woman gushed.
"Hi, aunt Victoria," he greeted weakly as she let him go. He smoothed out any wrinkles she may have made in his jacket.
"Your jacket's fine, dear. But your tie..." She reached up and tried to make it tighter.
"My tie is fine! Don't tighten it; it reminds me of the noose!"
"And your hair... Tsk, I just don't get the sideburns..."
"Would you stop!" he snapped. Gently grabbing her wrists, he pushed her hands away from his head. "Now, I need to know--"
"Well excuse me for wanting to make my favorite nephew look presentable," Victoria huffed.
Sighing, George rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry," he grumbled.
His aunt smiled. "That's better." She reached up and pinched one of his cheeks. "He's such a good boy when he wants to be," she said to Clarisse. Gingerly, George rubbed his face.
"So," Victoria asked eagerly, "who's your lady friend?"
Clarisse grinned, suppressing laughter at the sight of a very embarrassed George Gracey. It was nice to see his ego taken down a peg, especially by an old woman who hardly stood as high as his chest. "I'm Clarisse Parker. We're looking for my husband. He's, uh, he's a ghost." She felt her throat tighten at this, but continued. "He's about yea high," she held her hand up nearly two inches above her head, "brown hair, blue eyes, blue jeans, and wearing a shirt that reads, 'Who are you and why are you reading my shirt?'" George stared at her with an arched eyebrow. "What? I gave it to him for Christmas last year. We thought it was funny."
Victoria thought it over for a minute. "Oh, yes, I did see him. He fell on my cake, actually." She nodded to the table, where the flattened dessert still sat. "I'm not sure where he went though. I'm sorry dear," she added when she saw the look of disappointment on the mortal's face. "If it's any help he was with those three friends of yours, Georgie."
George cringed at his aunt's nickname for him and began to steer Clarisse out of the ballroom. "Thanks, Victoria."
"You're welcome, dear. I hope you find your husband, Mrs. Parker."
"Thank you!" Clarisse called over her shoulder. She and her ghostly host continued on their search, walking back up the stairs. She stopped suddenly in front of a short flight of steps that lead to an ancient, narrow, wooden door. Unlike the others, this didn't have an ornate knocker or a detailed handle. The knob was dusty. "Where does that lead?" She could swear she heard a faint noise coming from within.
George actually gulped. "Oh, that's, uh, that's not important. He's not in there, I assure you. There's another set of rooms down this corridor..." Before he could walk away, Clarisse began to ascend the rickety stairs.
"I can hear someone in there. Maybe he's here! I can't risk not looking!" Quickly, she sprinted up the steps.
With a groan, the ghost followed suit. "Of all the rooms in all the mansion, she had to wander into this one."
"What were your lives like?" Adam asked Ezra, Phineas, and Gus as they glided through the Gracey cemetery. Well, Adam stumbled more than glided, but he was catching on.
"I was on a crooked path," Ezra said dramatically, holding his derby over his heart. "Until I saw the Light."
"Oh, the sunlight as we were breaking out of the loony bin?" asked Phineas with a smirk.
"Or the light from the oncoming train?" questioned Gus, cackling.
Adam stopped, allowing them to take a step ahead of him. "Loony bin?" he squeaked nervously.
"Oh, we were in the mental ward for a few years," Phineas commented casually. "'Clinically insane', ha! What do doctors know?"
It was at that moment that the young former mortal attempted to sneak away. "Hey, hey, hey!" Ezra called, stretching out his arm and putting it around his shoulders and pulling him back. "Where are you off to? The party's just startin'!" He gestured to the graveyard.
Ghosts, hundreds of them, flew out of their graves and into the dark, cloudy sky. Spirits danced, laughed, and conversed jovially. A quintet of busts sang a song that Adam couldn't quite make out from where he was standing. (Some jazzy tune called "grim, grinning ghosts come out to vocalize" he guessed.) Joining in on the singing were two opera singers, a full figured woman with long braids and a valkerie outfit, and a scrawny man in a helmet with a thick mustache. Beside them, a decapitated knight and a burly executioner cheerily crooned along. A king and a queen balanced on a sea-saw, and a young princess swung on a swing. The newly made ghost's attention, however, was drawn to a rag tag band of musicians.
This group consisted of a kilt-wearing spook playing the bagpipes, a ghost beating on a casket with a pair of bones, the coffin's owner playing a flute, a spirit plucking a harp, and finally, a phantom in a cap tooting a long horn.
"Cool!" cried Adam. "It reminds me of my band in high school, except we had decent instruments. And we only played in my mom's garage if dad backed the car out." Approaching the minstrels, he waved and called, "You guys got a guitar?"
"Aye, lad," the bagpiper replied. He gestured to a guitar leaning against a headstone.
"Sweet." Adam took it and played out the opening chords to "Smoke on the Water." Ghosts stopped chatting and listened. Some even cheered. A group of drunken revelers picked up lit torches and waved them from side to side. With a grand flourish, Adam finished the acoustic number to the delight of the crowd. "That takes me back. Haven't really been able to get into music since I started that construction job." He put the instrument back down onto a nearby gravestone.
The drummer grinned at him. "We could always use another member, especially someone who could teach us some new songs."
Adam couldn't help but feel proud. It was such a shame Clarisse couldn't have been there to see him. "Sounds fun." He returned to his trio of friends, who were still cheering.
"Boys," said Ezra, "I think we've found the long sought after fourth member of our crew. Phineas, the honorary hitchhiking ghost badge, please!"
The plump spook opened his carpetbag and began digging. "Just a moment... Aha--wait, that's not it..." He tossed an umbrella, two boxes of tissues, a smelly sneaker, and a coat rack over his shoulder.
"How did that even...?" Adam started.
"Don't ask," Gus said.
Phineas was leaning down past his waist into the bag. "I could've sworn we had a bunch made."
The furious clomping of horse's hooves and the squeaking of antique wheels made them all turn. An old black hearse buggy came careening towards them at breakneck speed, its bespectacled driver pulling hard on the reins of an invisible horse. "Heel Rolly! Stop boy! Out of the way! Runaway horse!"
With sly smirks to each other, Gus, Phineas, and Ezra vanished and reappeared on the back of the buggy. "Hey!" yelled Adam pathetically. "Wait for me!" He took a running leap and barely grasped the edge of the roof. Phineas hauled him up.
"What freaked out Spazzy McGee this time, Dustbin?" Ezra called to the coachman.
The driver turned. Upon spotting the trio, he scowled. "Oh, great. The three things that could make this situation worse," he grumbled in a thick British accent. "I don't suppose any of you could be of assistance?"
They took their time trying to formulate an answer, muttering amongst themselves. Rolling his eyes, Adam jumped up and plopped onto the driver's bench. He grabbed the reins in his hands and pulled. Straining with the effort, he and the driver managed to bring the expired equine to a halt, nearly crashing into the side of the mansion in the process.
"Thank you," the Englishman said gratefully, adjusting his top hat. "Rolly gets spooked so easily. He just took off when he heard the music."
"Sorry," Adam winced. "That was me."
The ghost studied him for a moment, an eyebrow arched over his lenses. "You're new, aren't you?" He smiled. "I'm Dustin. Dustin T. Dust." He shook Adam's hand.
"Adam Parker. And you know these guys, right?" He jerked his thumb behind him, where Phineas, Ezra, and Gus were pretending to vomit.
"All too well," Dustin confirmed flatly with a frown.
Above them, in the uppermost room of the house, the light turned on. And a woman screamed. The five ghosts looked up.
"Who was that?" asked Adam.
"That would be the lovely miss Emily," Phineas answered.
"And she is?"
"Oh, just your run of the mill, borderline psychotic jilted bride."
A/N: Aquarian Wolf created the characters Dustin T. Dust and Rolly.