Chapter Six

Trembling, Geneva sat on the bare floor. She glanced at Sharon and her eyes popped. A rare sight it was, seeing a serious faced Sharon who sat with shoulders rigid in an upright posture.

This is serious, Geneva thought.

The room was small, narrow and dimly lit by the red candle on the table. It had only a small window whose curtains kept making different shapes as it danced along with the wind. On the walls and the table they surrounded were bones of various sizes. Geneva hoped those weren't from humans.

"We have seen it all." The old woman hummed.

What was with this we, are they really three witches?

"We?" She squeaked as meekly as a rat.

"The universe, land, ocean, trees, wind, sky and I," The woman said with an air of mystery.

"Oh."

"Give me your hands." The woman demanded as she stretched her own thin hands over the strange items on the table.

Geneva swallowed and sat still but not for long. Sharon grabbed her wrists with the power of an elephant and threw them to the waiting palms.

Their wide eyes watched the woman run a scaly finger on Geneva's palm. She hummed again. "It chose you and you can't run away from it. Even in your dreams, it shall appear so that you can't completely depart from it."

"Yes, yes. The dreams I have, you know something about them?" Geneva eagerly asked, not realizing that she was beginning to lean in. She wanted to free herself from that recent burden as soon as possible.

The woman hummed again. Would you stop humming?!

"They won't leave you until you seek them."

"What?" She was confused, "until I what? Seek them? Uhm... how?"

The old woman closed her eyes and hummed again as she jingled the bells. Was she doing this on purpose? Geneva really felt the urge to pull at her hair raise.

"Go back." The old woman pulled her hands back in a jerk without bothering to release Geneva's hands.

Save for Geneva's fast reflex, she would have really been sent flying across the table for a hug that was truly best avoided.

"Eh? Back?" She mouthed, slowly tucking her hands safely together, "do you know what is at Canada lurking in that *chokes on sob* that house?"

"He waits."

"So I really cannot just move to another house?" Her last hope was...

"Go back!" crushed.

They speechlessly watched the old woman tightly clench her hair in her fist and pull out. She burnt the hair with flame from the idle candle then, not waiting for it to cool, rubbed the burnt thing in her palms and onto her neck, face and yet, another bald spot. Plucking a cowry from her black robe, she dropped it on the bald spot and it stuck.

So that's the mystery behind the bald parts.

"Wait. I need to know. Why did, uhm, whatever, carelessly pick me?"

"Go back." The woman wasn't paying her any attention. She kept on plucking cowries and attaching them to her head.

"What is he? Oh, don't answer that one. He's a ghost. I know that. Why is he in that state? No, no, why can I see him? Why can l feel his touch, ghosts can't do that, can they? What does he need me for?"

The old woman stopped her scaly hands from further movements and stared directly at Geneva through her foggy eyes that obviously saw clearly.

"Go back and help him find out."

This was going nowhere but Geneva had to know, "must I marry him?" She asked in a very low and miserable voice.

The old woman never answered. She maintained that eye-locking posture and even her deep exhalation and inhalation that occurred at intervals, deterred her not.

At last Sharon got up after dropping some money and dragged Geneva's lifeless body again but this time towards the car.

"So you can put a pause to your talkative behaviour?" Geneva asked as they got into the car.

"I respect my elders. Didn't you see that she wasn't talking to me?" Sharon answered, immediately activating her bad manners.

Geneva pursed her lips and eyed her, "how did you even become friends with such a scary person? Forget it! My head is filled with trash right now and I want no more."

Sharon shrugged and continued driving but said after a moment of complete silence. "I really think you should tell your parents to look for a strong exorcist."

"No."

"You really want to live in my house now? Are you kidding?"

Geneva had always envied her for having a house and car of her own and living about an hour away from her parents and three little siblings.

"Selfish girl."

But Sharon just grinned.

********

After the reoccurrence of an already familiar dream reached an unbelievable amount plus the long hours of disturbed sleep spent thinking, Geneva finally made up her mind.

She was going back to Canada. She would help the ghost in any way she could so his memories could be recovered. She believed strongly that if she succeeded, she would be free from all these. She'd do this wisely and avoid any uncomfortable and dangerous situation.

Standing in front of a beige building was Geneva who was with a bigger bag than the one she had left with and her afro hair free from any tie. She really wanted to avoid that peculiar chill she felt at the back of her neck when the ghost was trying to be malicious.

Taking in a deep breath, she unlocked the door and went in.

Everything was in place just as she had left them except for one thing -the ghost. A gasp escaped her lips as she was startled.

The door swung open and it was accompanied by an instantaneous movement of the ghost's head to her direction.

He was sitting on the only sofa in the room with his elbows resting on his knees. The pad of the fingers of both hands were meeting each other.

He had been missing when she left so she didn't think that she was going to be meeting him any time soon. Somewhere deep down, she'd even wished he would go missing forever.

This was her first time seeing him in day time as it was 3:40pm. And so, the little details she hadn't paid attention to -mostly because she had been in fright -she clearly saw now.

He had the demeanor and posture of a tyrannical CEO in romance stories but describing him as that would not be quite an accurate description.

His black hair was gelled back but a curly lock was atop his forehead just in between his eyes.

Ah, those spectacular, light blue eyes of his. They weren't one that would want to see deep into your soul but rather, one that sought to swallow you up. Like sinking into a frosty ocean and being trapped after freezing over. Complementing it were his high nose bridge.

This ghost looked every bit like a businessman. His attire fuelled that suspicion. Maybe he was one before his death.

His poker face expression was an A plus. Maybe it was the fact that he was a ghost or it was just his deadly pale lips or his ashen body that made his whole face which lacked expression, deadly.

How did he die? She wondered. She saw no injury to prove he was killed by a sharp object, broken bones to prove it was a fall or an accident, rotting flesh to prove it was by poisoning, bulging eyes and protruding tongue to prove it was by hanging -nothing. What then?

This train of thought was stopped right in their tracks by the ghost's next words.

"You're late," he said,"to our wedding."