Late for the Party

Things change for Jacob on the way to his birthday party. He gets there in spirit anyway.

Late for the Party

What's going on? I need to sort through my memories. I remember getting into my Honda Civic and driving through dense fog down Hwy 30 to get to my birthday party. It felt scary to drive, seeing only 10 feet ahead of me but, I so wanted to get there. After all, my dear friends planned the party for me.

Okay, I remember the sounds of highway traffic passing by as I attempted to leave the on-ramp and merge with trucks and cars. My guts churned because I could barely see them. My turn signal was blinking. I wanted to give other drivers plenty of warning: I'm here!

And, I remember feeling startled by sudden moving and jerking sensations as if I was on an amusement ride. Hang on! Grab the hand rails to avoid falling out! But this was different. These sensations came with the sound of crunching metal.

After that, I knew that something had fundamentally changed. Now, the highway was dead quiet. No headlights were approaching me. And, what happened to the highway guard rails? Those lane markers were so very faint. Remain focused, Jake. Don't sweat the small stuff. Just get to the party and don't be late.

I wonder about my hands. They seem be grasping the steering wheel. Given the circumstances, my palms would normally be damp with sweat. However, my palms seem to be bone dry.

Come on car. Get me there. I've been night driving on a busy highway thick with fog at night which is now not so busy. Don't be fooled, I tell myself. I'd heard that drivers actually speed up while driving through fog. I hope to see them before they get close.

And, I remember landing on my friend's door step without knowing exactly how I got there. That was after a harrowing encounter with a highway patrol car. Shit, it was so scary with blue lights flashing and a screaming siren racing right at me. It was gonna be a head on collision! I was unable to swerve away in time to avoid it passing right through me as if I was merely a cloud. Damn, I might have been killed!

I took some shamanic training years ago. One primary rule for shamans is to always be able find your feet. If our feet are on the ground, we know where we are. I have the feeling that all was not well for this novice shaman because I can't find my feet. So, I hover mid air outside the front door. At least the wind doesn't blow away like a dry leaf.

Why is the doorbell hard to push? Must be rusty. Next, I'm knocking on the wooden door. That gets no one's attention. But, I can see party goers through a bay window laughing and drinking. Without me!

This has been a rough night. I want to join everyone in the worst way. After all, it was to have been my birthday party. Rapping on the bay windows ought to do it. But, no one sees me! I'll pound on the door hard this time. I try one fist. Both fists. Nothing.

Finally, my good friend, Lauren opens the door looks around. She must have heard me. "Did you hear that, Bob?," I hear her asking her husband.

"Hear what?"

"Oh, I thought that I heard some tapping a moment ago. Must have been my imagination. What's taking Jacob so long? Hope he's all right."

"It's me, guys!", I say right before Lauren closes the door in my face. This is a classic WTF moment. Nah. This must be one of those birthday pranks we like to pull on unsuspecting friends. That must be it! Oh, how they are messing with me! I laugh at myself, they got me good this time.... I resume pounding till the door opens again.

Now, it's Bob. "Did you hear that?" He looks right through me as if I am nothing more than a breath of air. He's must be messing with me. I'll play along with his charade. I wonder if the others would also be in-character, acting as if I'm invisible. I gotta get in. So, I slip into the vestibule before Bob closes the door.

It looks like a party all right. Some of the party goers I recognize, old friends and acquaintances. "Hi everyone!" They all ignoring me. Then, Lauren says to Bob, "I wonder what's keeping Jacob. He otta be here by now." Maybe they are gas lighting me. It's one of those birthday pranks we pull on friends. That's gotta be it.

After twenty minutes, I'm getting tired of this game. It's no longer amusing. "Thank you everyone. This was the best birthday hoax ever! So, let's party!" That gets no one's attention, apparently. "I'm going to get really obnoxious till you call it off. I mean it!"

How to get them back? What would be totally obnoxious? The answer is clear: the most tedious hymn ever written, Kumbaya. I belt out loud, "Someone's crying Lord, Kumbaya.... Someone's praying, Lord, Kumbaya.... I'm not gonna stop! Someone's hungry, Lord, Kumbaya... Someone's hurting, Lord, Kumbaya..... Someone's...."

"Hey you! What are you doing here?" I turn around and see a young woman of maybe sixteen or seventeen. A waif who looked to be street-wise with a "don't try me" attitude. On her right arm is a tattoo that resembles a knife. Camouflage pants, lumber-jack boots and a halter-top completes her ensemble.

She pulls back a lock of straight black hair looks me over, as if inspecting a cow to purchase. "So, newbie, what are you doing here anyway?"

"Well, if it's any of your business, this is my birthday party." I follow up with, "I guess that you must have been invited?"

"Not exactly, newbie."

"Then, what are you doing here?" I can be snarky too.

With her arms crossed , she replies, "I, more or less, live here."

That's odd. Lauren never mentioned that they had a tenant renting a room.

Equally odd is that she's the only person acknowledging me in any way. "Really? How long have you been here?"

That seems to fluster her a bit. Good. I'm getting a bit testy now. "And, what's with that newbie shit?"

"I call you newbie because you look like someone who doesn't understand that they are recently deceased."

Is this urchin part of the hoax? Would my friends take it that far? So, I'll play along some more. "What, me dead? Bullshit! I'm just as alive as you are." Now it's my turn to cross my arms. Urchin gives me a knowing nod, as if she knows more about me than I do.

There's punch bowl across the room. Sure looks inviting! I should be thirsty by now. But, my fingers just passed right through one of the cups on the table. Another WTF moment! My hands are strong enough to grasp a cup for Chrissakes! Let's try it again. I just can't raise the cup from the table. It just remains in place, dammit.

From behind, I hear Urchin say, "Face it, newbie. You're dead."

Now I'm pissed. Or is this just an elaborate dream? "Like I said: I'm just as alive as you are. So, knock it off!"

Urchin gestures across the living room, "Well, if you are so alive, why doesn't anyone here say Hi to you. Where are the warm embraces from your friends living in bodies?"

I'm wondering, could this really be a birthday hoax? Would they take it this far? My musings are interrupted with,"Hi Jacob!" That's Benny, Lauren and Bob's seven year old boy. I'm actually relieved to hear those words from someone, anyone. Next, their terrier, Greta looks me in my eye and wags her tail. "Hi, Jacob. Glad to have you here again."

Now, that's odd. Since when do I hear Greta speaking? She's a dog..... I need to investigate a bit. "Hey, Benny, can I ask you a question?"

Benny, as always is eager to show his smarts. "Sure. What ya want to know?"

I point at Urchin. "Can you see her? Can you hear her speak?"

"Yeah. I can always hear and see Patsy. Like the others floating around the house."

What is this adding up to? Other ones floating here.... Umm, spirits or ghosts? "So, you're not afraid of them?"

"Nah, they're not scary. Just mostly boring. They hardly ever do much, except to complain about stuff."

Maybe I need to connect the dots, so to speak. All the adults totally ignore me. But, a child and a dog do not ignore me. Could that irritating Urchin be correct regarding my dead or alive status?

That last thought must have summoned her because, here she is. "Yes, newbie. I can hear your thoughts. You're loud enough to be heard down the block, by the way." Grinning now, "Yours truly, Patsy."

"Yeah, well...." She's getting under my skin. "Patsy, my name is not newbie. It's Jacob." Slow down, Jake. Breathe. But, it's not working! "So, Benny and Greta can see the dead. And, they're obviously aware of me, unlike the adults."

Patsy grinned. "Welcome to the house of the dead, Jacob. Looks like you're one of us."

"This must mean that I might actually be... deceased."

"Ah, your first epiphany!"

That epiphany sent me reeling. When did that happen? It must have been on that foggy highway when I got roughly jerked around. I have more questions. "So, Patsy, what are you doing here?"

"You could call me the steward of this place. I keep the riff-raff away. I already have enough lost souls to deal with."

That caught Jacob's curiosity. "Riff-raff?"

"Yep. Some spirits are troublesome. They either look for trouble or trouble seems to find them. Victims and predators. Masters and slaves. Let them play their karmic games somewhere else."

Next, there's a sound like someone pounding on a door. A male voice cries out, "Sylvia dammit! Not again!"

"Who is that? He sounds really upset about something."

"That's Howard. He gets upset whenever Sylvia announces that she is pregnant again. Those two have been at it for decades. One day, I hope, they will take advantage of the Paradise Train that stops here each week and leave us here with relative quiet."

Next we hear, "Get over here big boy!"

The dead can get knocked up? WTF! My head is practically reeling with volumes of implications. "Did I hear you correctly, Paradise train?"

"Yep. A train that takes the dead to Paradise. It knows that there are dead folks who loiter here. That's why it stops right behind the house as an invitation." Patsy snickered, "It even sounds out an old fashioned train whistle and a voice calling out: All aboard!"

This is perplexing. Why would the dead chose to not go to their heavenly reward? I'd heard that the Light place is wonderful. "Do you mean that your ghosts would rather remain here doing, whatever ghosts do instead of transitioning to the Light? Why?"

Patsy's in my face. "Jacob, all spirits loiter for their own reasons. They are not stuck here by accident." She gave me a moment to digest that. "That Paradise train will stop by here for you too. Do you plan to loiter or will you move on?"

So, that's what this is about. I get it. "How, uh. Do I need a ticket?"

"Ya want one?" She reaches into a pocket and fishes out handfuls of them. "Take your pick. No one here wants to use them."

To take one and, from out of nowhere I hear, Toot toot! All aboard! In the widows of an old steam engine are people from my life who have already passed. Among them are my loving grandparents and two dogs. They beckon me to join them. An offer I can't refuse. I'm on a coach to heaven now. So peaceful. So bright.