New Phase

We half staggered through the lobby, which wasn’t good, and brought a stare from the clerk. I was fine, and the short dark haired female at my side holding on was causing the stagger. Again, not a real good look, particularly since we were "decorated" for Halloween. Even though it was only the thirtieth, the party had started in the French Quarter. The good news was that we were at my condo on St. Charles, and also I think they believed me when I told them it was my niece. It was my niece, so that was good, and it’s just a timeshare. I’m not rich.

“Unc! I am drunk…” She said loudly as I poured her into the elevator.
“Nice. A short but loud piece from the Dead Drunk Poet’s Society.” I replied.

When I turned to push the floor button, she turned and leaned back in the corner of the tiny lift, and I got a glimpse of a smiling clerk. He believed me. The bouncy ride up gave away its age, a century or more, which no renovation could cover. The doors opened to a narrow hallway and it was a few steps to the door of the unit. I key carded us into the room, put my hand on her shoulder, and gently pushed to the single bedroom.

“Take the big bed, you’ll appreciate it in the morning.” I said.
“What?” She replied. I nudged her into the small room.
“Here, just lay face down on the bed. You’ll also appreciate the private bath tomorrow.”
“Thanks.” She said when I tossed a blanket on her.
“Sure.”
“Not for that!”
“What?”
“I mean, thanks for today.” It came out as a Texas drawl mumble.
“I’m glad you had fun. Absinthe can, well, there’s a trash can by the bed.” But she was out.

I walked back into the main room of the old converted hotel. All the new fixtures, carpets and cleaners couldn’t stop the wisps of the city smells permeating the place. The window only opened six inches, but it was enough to let the sounds mix in as well. Fetid smells of trash and the pungent urine were more often covered by the mix of cooking from restaurants and private homes alike. The traffic noise was acceptable, since it was often covered by the passing of the old trolley and the revelers strolling by. It reminded me of old times. Most of them good memories. Instead of trying to unfold the couch into a bed, I just grabbed a pillow and cover, and dropped onto it heavily. After all, absinthe wasn’t lost on me, either.

My eyes opened what seemed like moments later, and sitting up rather slowly, I noticed someone sitting by the kitchenette table in the dim light from the exterior windows. At first I thought my niece was up, but the size was too big. I really needed my glasses. My next thought was that the real absinthe might produce visions of green fairies, but this was all together different.

“You callin’ me a fairy, Bro?” A voice chuckled while I adjusted my eye wear.
“What the hell are you?” He looked remarkably like my old roommate and brother-in-law.
“Nothing you’ve ever thought of before.” It sounded like him, too, crazy Cajun accent.
“Well, you look and sound like Jeb, but he’s been dead twenty-five years. Ghost?” I yawned.
“I’m not anything you you can imagine, includin’ ghosts.”
“Well, alien or angel or whatever… night night. This can’t be for real.” I said sleepily.

I shook my head, folded my glasses up, and closed my eyes. The lids were getting heavy. The city sounds took over one again as I hit the pillow. I smiled. I thought, I can’t imagine I’ll remember this in the morning, unimaginable mother fucker. What a damn shame, because it was kind of nice to see you again. Even if you were wearing that stupid gray fedora I had in college.

"Fine. Go back to bed. You'll wake up one confused mu’ fucker."
It took a second, but I popped back up. "Wait, what? What angel or alien says mother fucker?!"
"You thought it, Bro!" He laughed.
"Would you stop with that?"
“I’m doin’ it for you.” He said. “Your brother-in-law was a trusted frien'.”
“He hit me with a pewter mug…” I said with a mix of disdain and sarcasm.
“You admired that he showed how he felt and didn’t hold in his anger.”
“That could have been a lot of people in my life.”
“Not really.” He responded. “Not people you trusted. 'Specially to tell you about a gift.”
“A gift… What gift?” I paused and waited for an explanation. “Well?”
“Soon.” He paused a moment. “Just let it sink in a tick.”

He pulled out a pack of Marlboros and opened the box. Then took out his old Zippo and flipped it open. At this point, I admit I was curious about this gift. I'd never heard of a Halloween present except candy. I mean, it is a day when it could mean something good or perhaps not so good. However, I decided I wanted something else answered.

"Why me?" I asked. “And you can't smoke in here, it’s not 1984.”
"Why you? Do you mean why is this gift for you?" He closed the lighter and set it on a table.
"I assumed you'd know what I meant."
"No. I haven't been reading you constantly. It's tiresome."
"Well, so sorry to be a bore." I interjected flatly.
"No, it actually tires me physically. But there are many answers to that question."
“Humor me.”
“Well, first.” He lifted a finger. “It has to be a male.”
"Wow! That's pretty sexist for this day and age."
"It isn't meant that way."
"Still, I wouldn't let your kid hear it..."
"She isn't my kid, and she won't, but it's different for females."
"What is?"
"If they are given the gift, it manifests differently."
“How so?” Then I added, “And you aren’t Jeb. ‘Manifest’ wasn’t in his lexicon.”
“As I said.” He doffed the hat and set it over the lighter. “And you don’t want to know.”
“So some must have it.” I surmised.
“Yes.”
“And that’s scarier than you sitting there?” He nodded and I continued. “You're right, I don’t want to know.”

I stood up and stretched. If I was suspending my beliefs for whatever reason, might as well check gravity. When I didn’t fly like Peter Pan I was a little disappointed, so I stretched a bit and let the conversation lull for a moment. If he were anything like Jeb, he would babble on quickly. He wasn’t.

“So half the population. What else?” I started.
"You cannot believe, nor disbelieve, in the presence of a higher power."
"Agnostics. So what? Plenty of those around."
"Not so many as you'd think." He countered. "Especially with your moral compass."
"My..." I looked at him oddly. "Moral compass."
"Yes. Yours is exceptionally strong without relation to fear."
“You lost me, but I’ll take your word for it.” My head just didn’t want to clear. “Still, just me?”
“No. Many other factors, but in the end, you.”

The air almost seem pregnant in the wait for him to go on. Perhaps it was going to take a draft horse to get him to tell me what I wanted to know. But patience just wasn’t me at that moment.

"Okay, so when are you going tell me about this gift I'm getting."
"Got, actually."
"Got? So I have no choice? Sounds like a gift from the mob!"
"Use it or do not. If you want to understand, come and sit."
"Fine." I walked across the small room and sat across from him.
"Others before you called it 'phasing' among other things." He began to explain.
“Pha…”
“Stop. You can peek into places you’re familiar with.” He looked at me. “Close your eyes.”
“Okay, sure.” I closed them.
“Now peek in on your niece. Make sure she’s okay.”
“What? I can’t do…” But then I could, as if standing in the room. “She snores.”
“I know. Open up, I haven’t got all night.” My eyes popped open and I was back.
“Wow. That was… not sure what!”
“Think up the right words later, because that’s not all.” He smiled. “You can go there, too.”
“Teleport? Or be in two places at once?” I shook my head. “No way. Physics!”
“Ha! You and physics.” A laugh. “Did an apple hit your head when you tried to fly, Peter Pan?”

So, what the hell. It worked, or at least seemed to work. The fact that this probably wasn't real didn't get lost on me, but live in the moment. At least that sounded good. It seemed it was possible to wander around, move and touch things, without ever leaving the chair. It was impressive!

“Open up!” He snapped his fingers. “I’m leaving quite soon.”
“What? Don’t you stick around for advice?!”
“Sure.” He answered. “Don’t let people find you catatonic in a closet.”
“Wait, what? Did you just quote me Weird Science?”
“Yes.” He rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen everything you people have ever produced. Get out more.”
“I’ve certainly heard that before.” I looked back at him. “What else?”
“Don’t tell people or the catatonic thing won’t be a problem. Don’t end up in a rubber room.”
“No rubber room.” My hand made an ‘x’ motion. “Check! Anything else?”
“No. That’s all I have for you.”
“Really.” It kind of surprised me. “Okay, well, then what do I do with it?”
“Save the world.”
“What…”
“You heard me.” A horn honked. “My ride is here. Look, no one will stop you whatever you do.”
“Why not?”
“It’s your gift.” He waved. “Bye.”
“Bye!” But he was gone, and I was headed straight for the couch.

I awoke to the sound of the shower running with only a mild headache. There was a perfect remedy on the counter in the form of a press and a bag of Community Coffee. The only requirement was hot water! Honestly, I believed I ignored it at first when I passed it to put on the pot to heat. But it was there - that stupid hat. The lighter had to be under it, too. Try the gift like last night? No, the shower had been turned off and I quickly thought better of that idea. It’d have to wait. I turned and just watched water boil while I filled the press with grounds. Soon the old ornate bedroom door opened and my niece walked into the room, looking none the worse for wear. Oh, to be young again.

“Happy Halloween!” She exclaimed.
“All Hallows’ Eve is upon us, yes!”
“Oh, that's so you.” She chuckled. “Any idea on a costume?”
“That’s so me? Half a day, you know me?” I snorted. “Say ‘trick or treat.’”
“Trick or treat?” I lifted the hat, and as suspected, there lay the lighter. She saw it. “What?”
“Treat, so it seems. Go ahead, it’s for you!”
“Uh, thanks?” She picked up the dented old Zippo. “You know I don’t smoke, right?”
“So light a candle. It was your dad’s.”
“What? How did you get it?”
“An old friend dropped it off after you fell asleep.” I headed for the bathroom. “Be right back.”

It worked. I could see and move around like the night before. I wasn’t shocked, I was more curious. The dogs looked okay back home, but it was really fuzzy. It would take some practice. I smiled inwardly as I thought of the upcoming night. Perhaps my moral compass points at both tricks and treats! I walked back in the room and grabbed the hat.

“I’ll be a gangster!” As I put it on.
“Then I’ll be the gun moll!”
“Then tonight, we trick... or treat!” I laughed.
“What’re we going to do the rest of the week?”
“Save the world.”
“Good plan!”

(WC:1998)