Chapter 3 ~ Expect the Expecting

The twenty-second came rather quick for Coraline.

During the morning at about eight o'clock, everyone was running late. After her parents packed some last minute things and Coraline gave a goodbye stroke to the black cat, she and her family immediately left for Portland International Airport. The drive there was gruellingly long and horribly boring for Coraline. It took every fibre of her being to not whip out her phone, and eventually waste the battery on the little pinball game she's been addicted to. Until her thoughts traced back to a question she pestered her parents about not too long ago.

"Hey, Mom?" Coraline asked, "How old did you say they were?"

"Who?" Mel replied, glancing at her daughter through the rear-view mirror as she focuses on her driving.

"Her kids."

"Who's kids?" Charlie added, clearly in a playful tone.

"Sandra's kids," Coraline deadpanned.

"Who's that?" Now her mother was going along with it, earning a chuckle from Charlie.

Coraline was having none of it and moaned, "Moooom...!" Her parents broke into laughter by her outburst, much to her annoyance, until Mel calmed herself and spoke.

"I actually forgot to ask, but I think I'll take a wild guess to say they're older than you."

"Fantastic," Coraline replied in sarcasm, "So that means I could suffer with high-schoolers."

"Actually I think they could be younger." Her father piped in. Coraline shuddered with a dramatic groan, shrinking into the backseat at his comment. "Anything but that," She retaliated, "It's dumb enough I have to bunk with a family I've never heard of during the holidays, but babysitting? God, no."

Mel rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on," she started, "Sometimes you take care of those actresses' dogs when your father and I drive them to those plays. There's even that circus man in the attic with his mice."

"This is different," Coraline declared, "At least the mice and dogs are fun to care for; they don't complain or cry about anything. And you forgot about Cat!"

"Perhaps," Mel tilted her head with a nod, knowing Coraline's soft spot for animals. "Cats are different too; they're able to take care of themselves. And besides, who knows? Maybe you'll enjoy the new company."

Coraline stayed quiet, unsure about the last part. Her parents dropped the topic, which she was glad for.

They arrived at the airport in the nick of time at nine thirty-seven, barely hauling themselves and their luggage to the lobby and present their tickets after God-knows how many times the airline called their plane. As they made their way toward the tunnel leading to the passenger cabin, Coraline had glanced out the window to view the gargantuan, steel aircraft. Two streaks colored red and blue coated it from the nose to its tail, along with the initials of a company name that she didn't care to remember. Coraline wondered why people never bothered to use other cool colors than just red and blue, as the plane disappeared from view when the Jones's entered the tunnel. As usual around this time of year, the plane was packed. She followed her mother's lead as they navigated towards the back of the cabin. Coraline briefly contemplated of how many were returning home or continuing to work overseas, when her mother motioned her to their seats. Well, there was one good thing of being inside this hunk of metal. Coraline got the seat to the window.

She made herself comfortable, smiling when there was no giant wing obscuring the view before her. Even though all Coraline saw at the moment was a fence line that led to a traffic-jammed highway in the distance. And snow. A lot of it.

"Better brace yourself, honey." Coraline turned to her mother when she spoke, sitting next to her while her father sat on the opposite end of his wife. The last seat remained empty. "We're gonna be in here for about..." Mel trailed off as she lifted her hand to check her wristwatch before she smiled, looking sympathetic yet vaguely amused while glancing at her daughter. "... five hours."

Coraline sighed heavily and closed her eyes, letting her head drop against the seat. She had forgotten just how long this ride was going to be. Her excitement of getting the window seat was short-lived.

"Which means we're stuck with this airline food for that long," Coraline moaned.

Mel nodded, "Unfortunately." Her gaze left the little girl as she slowly bent forward to grab a pillow she just stored under the seat. "And we might need to nap, if we don't wanna feel like zombies when we get off."

"What time are we supposed to get there again?"

"Okay, here's a better question for you," Salma interjected, "Are you mentally prepared?"

"No." Norman moaned out that single word in monotone, his dazed stare penetrating the snow-covered sidewalk as he, Neil, and Salma were walking home after a street hockey match with Alvin. The medium still found the fact of Alvin being an ally a little difficult to wrap his head around, but Norman's current predicament felt even more so.

The Jones' were coming today.

In fact they would be in Blithe Hollow literally in a couple of hours, at around dinner time and as much as he tried to remain calm about it, time still flew way too fast in his opinion. Just as those thoughts circled his brain, he turned to Salma when she heaved a sigh, not realizing he went silent after his answer.

"Really, Norman you're freaking out over nothing." She scolded her friend while adjusting her glasses, and glared at Norman annoyingly with her unibrow creased low. "So what if this girl's from out of town? There's about a fifty-eight to fifty-nine percent chance she won't be creeped out."

"Uhh," Neil interrupted, lifting a concerned brow when Norman lowered his head, "That doesn't really help him calm down, y'know."

"I'm a realist, Neil."

"But what if it's a higher number? Like, she's cool about everything?" By everything, Neil mostly meant about Norman's gift of seeing ghosts. A majority of the town were still unconvinced of Norman's ability being real while a smaller number, including himself, had witnessed the zombie invasion and them becoming ghosts, drifting away to parts unknown. Salma was not among that small number of people, but unlike everyone else, she welcomed Norman and his gift when introduced by Neil.

Her glare let up a little. "If that's the case," she said, smirking while glancing at the depressed-looking medium. "I still wouldn't get my hopes up for Normie getting a girlfriend."

"Oh c'mon!" Norman's head and arms shot up in frustration, before turning to Salma, "What is it with you two and thinking she's now my girlfriend?! We haven't even met! And we're only kids! Heck, we didn't even know of each other's existence!"

"Well, now you have two weeks to get to know each other's existence," Salma continued, "You get to see if you can creep her out or not."

"I think she'll be cool with it!" Neil grinned, waving his wide arm in the air like knowing the answer to a simple (often sarcastic) question.

"You don't even know her!" Norman gawked at Neil.

"Yeah but we're going to, eventually."

Norman gave up. He sighed, letting his eyes wander down to the snow below him as he walked. "Unless she finds out about me seeing ghosts and freaks out, and it'll happen..."

"Glad to see you're facing facts," Salma stated; unaware of her friend's mood sinking lower than their boots in the snow. Neil noticed this.

"Well..." The ginger stammered, "Facts can change, especially if they didn't exactly happen yet. Or something. But still, just remember what I told you on the phone that one time, Norman. Promise?"

Norman recalled Neil's advice and hoped it could help when today arrived. Even now, the medium wasn't totally convinced. He's not sure why he's so worked up about a simple two- week visit, but regarding the trauma in being rejected and bullied his entire life, there really was no mystery.

The three children had all went to their homes, and it was now less than an hour early from dinner time. For Norman, it was less than an hour left before they come. He had confined himself in his bedroom while his mother prepared a little welcoming feast for the arrivals, still feeling unexcited about the coming events. He lied on his stomach with his face buried into his pillow, unaware of the two floating spectrums drifting into his room before the first one spoke.

"There he goes again, the poor tyke."

Norman easily recognized the aged, female voice and the clicking of knitting needles. But despite the small relief of his grandmother's presence, he really didn't feel like lifting his head just yet...

"I thought you said you were not going to panic, Norman."

Well... then there was her.

With great effort, Norman rolled over to lie on his back, near the very edge of the bed to stare at the younger, smaller and painfully familiar spirit who floated above him. Aggie smiled kindly, her eyes gleaming. Norman found it difficult to return the smile.

"I... didn't want you to worry," He claimed. For a while, after Norman found her ghost near her tree, she's been nothing but worried and he had been too. The mystery behind her return was still unsolved, prompting Norman to make several trips to the public library and even Mr. Prenderghast's study to find anything regarding Aggie's family, or information on her mother. Aggie's plea of not finding her mother in the afterlife bothered him to no end. While Norman did find the Prenderghast family tree in his great uncle's home, he discovered nothing to help his ancestor. But aside from these letdowns, Norman would still visit her often, bringing along activities or little conversations to keep the situation brighter. Conversations regarding her life ranged from rare to none, to Norman's understanding. But when it came to her family, she says she hardly remembered them, other than her mother and a little bit of her brother. Norman, though initially shocked, figured that the Prenderghast line could not have continued if she was the only child. Of course she had to have a sibling... but unfortunately, that was all Aggie could remember too. Norman's search also drew a blank regarding her brother, and at this point, he wasn't sure what to do. He truthfully enjoyed Aggie's company, but he also knew she deserved better than being stuck here. Along with her mother, wherever she was.

And so, here they were. Aggie would learn to leave the safety of her tree on her own, and eventually her presence was welcomed by the town's local ghosts Norman's acquainted with, as well as his grandmother. Both ghosts had gotten along well when Aggie visited Norman for the first time, much to his joy. Norman's mind then returned to the present, barely in time to glimpse a shred of sadness in Aggie's eyes before it disappeared with a smile turning into a smirk, as she drifted toward the edge of his bed, just beside Grandma Babcock.

"I did not mean that," She softly proclaimed, "I'm talking about the guests coming soon."

"... Oh..." Norman tore his gaze from her and stared at his ceiling.

"Starin' at your posters isn't gonna make it easier, sweetie," Grandma chuckled, "Things are different 'round here now. You don't have to be so worked up about it."

"I know..." Norman muttered, breaking off his stare upwards as he moved to sit up, crossing his legs and proceeding to fiddle with his fingers. "But, the Jones' aren't even from here. I don't want to ignore the other ghosts, and I don't want to weird anybody out too. They might treat me like the town used to..."

"This town changed because you stayed true to yourself." Aggie chimed. "... Of course, I scared them into doing it, but the point is you never let them change you. They were the ones who had to change." She paused then; shying away from Norman's curious gaze as she seemed to struggle to say the next part. "Even... even the people who did bad things to me... I saw them change too."

Norman's eyes never left Aggie's, even when she rightfully cringed away at the mention of her executers. Hearing her say these words made him feel at awe at how much she's also changed. How much a lot of things changed, because of him just being him.

"She's hit the bullseye, kiddo," Grandma had smiled down at the little girl, before turning to her grandson as Aggie looked up toward him as well, her expression equally serene. "And don't you worry about the rest of us; I'll make sure every ghost in the neighbourhood lays low for those new folks. Least until that family starts appreciatin' you for who you are."

Norman couldn't hold back a smile of his own at Grandma's determination to look out for him. It's something he'll forever be thankful for. "Alright then," Norman acknowledged, shifting to face the two spirits and letting his legs dangle from the side of his bed, as he switched gazes from his grandmother to Aggie with new resolution, "I guess I can hold out and see how this go-!" His answer had been cut off by Courtney's shrill call from downstairs.

"Normaaaan! Mom says they're kinda three blocks away or something, so get your butt down here!"

"Goodness," Aggie said, not minding Norman who suddenly flung himself out of bed and began frantically searching his room, "Is she always this... excessive?" She lingered in her sentence, unsure of what was the right and polite thing to say. Grandma Babcock chuckled, "Pretty often I might say, but she's been a good sister to 'im lately." She resumed her knitting while turning to see her young grandson practically flying across his bedroom, still looking for something of his, which Grandma had a feeling she knew what.

"I r'member you left that old thing on the couch last night, sweetie," She chimes, smiling wider at seeing Norman halt and turn to her, his expression innocently expectant. "Check there."

With a quick thank-you to his grandmother and good-bye to Aggie, Norman bolted out the door.

"Right then," The elderly ghost declared, tucking her endless knitting materials away and directing her gaze to the young Pilgrim, "Wanna help me brief every ghost about the newcomers?"

Aggie nodded courteously, her smile wide. "Yes please, miss!"

"No need for formalities, honey. Call me Gramma."