Emile continued to me lead up the stairs to an empty platform of the train station. I followed quietly. I could still smell my mother’s perfume.
I sat down on a hard wooden bench just a few inches from Emile.
“I saw you walk into that Sanctuary”, he started, “. . . I was going to stop you but I thought you had a right to see for yourself.”
“Was it real ?”
“Yes, Clara. but-”
“Why didn’t anyone tell me—“
“Clara listen. Although it may look wonderful it’s anything but. You see Specters allow us to visit Earth—but”, he was making sure I was listening, “only for a short time … then you have to make a choice.”
He was speaking in hushed tones, he practically spat the
word ‘Specters’.
“The choice”, he contiued, “Is to stay here or go back to Earth as a ghost or Specter... forever.”
I was listening to him, but not quiet processing on what he was telling me. I was still stuck on my parents and their grief.“Emile”, I held his hand, “You know I’d give anything to go back. . . I’m alone here and a maid here.”
“Maybe for the first few years. You’ll live forever on Earth watching, seeing, feeling but never being apart. You may meet another Specter but it’s inevitable.”
“What is?”
“They grow tired, lonely and take it out on humans and cause terrible things to happen.”
“I would never—“
“They always do. They want so much to have some form of our lives back they don’t think of the consequences.”
I didn’t want to hear this, I didn’t want to believe that it was some critical decision to want to spend another 5 seconds alone with my parents.
Something Ms. Ginger had said slowly came back to me.
My grandmother had "Moved on".
I thought of every comforting chill, or when I thought I heard her voice or thought I caught a glimpse of her.
“My Grandmother”, I said, “That’s why she isn’t here. . . are you telling me she's a ghost ?”
Emile looked up and past me with a grim face, I turned to see Mr. Fierro standing behind me. He was not at all pleased, a brimmed hat was pulled low over his eyes.
“I told her”, Emile told him, “She went ins--.”
“You”, I started attacking Mr. Fierro’s coat pockets, “You looted my grandmother’s house and stole her watch.”
I pulled the watch from his coat and sure enough there was solid gold “L” engraved into the surface of the pocket watch.
“Lucie DeLune”, I said my Grandmother’s name.
I opened the watch, the hands were perfectly still, and set at the wrong time.
Mr. Fierro snatched the watch from me so fast it almost closed around my finger.
“Emile”, he said looking over me, “Your train is boarding.”
“Clara ?”, Emile asked, “Why don’t you see me off.”
Once again I quietly followed Emile back to a busy platform and I could not shake the feeling that I had done something wrong.
Emile sat his luggage down as the steam engine train started to pull in.
“It wasn’t your grandmother's”, he said, “The watch”
“Oh, God”, I was certainly out of a job.
“I know you don’t understand Clara but. . .”, he looked around, “Promise you won't tell Mr. Fierro I told you something, and maybe it will make this time without me a little easier.. . and explain somethings.”
“I Promise”
“Mr. Fierro was in love once. . .not long ago. She was beautiful and saw past his. .. appearances. As much as she loved him it was not enough. She decided to become a Specter and until Mr. Fierro is ready to give up his humanity and join her . . .they will never be together again.”
“That’s terrible.”, was all I could say.
It explained a lot, but not everything.
+++
Nightfall was far from the fairytale I thought I had woken up to.
Much like the world I had left there was always a divide;
good and bad, right and wrong. Perhaps left and right ?
Loyalist and Specters
I closed the dusty spine on the old history book and rubbed my eyes. I had spent all night at the Litany Village Library skimming every history or text book I could get my hands on.
Nightfall’s written history went back 600 years. As far as I could read the The Bordeaux family had ruled as a Monarchy, Nightfall’s history, at best, was peaceful but between the lines there was an obvious unrest.
The souls that inhabited Nightfall had one rite before committing themselves fully to death. That is to inhabit the Earth they had left behind a second chance to watch their loved ones grow and move on.
Throughout the years a handful of people are trained to usher souls between this world and Earth.
This practice went on for centuries, peacefully, until the Loyalist showed up in the early 1800’s.
Late colonist, revolutionaries
and philosophers, Loyalist believed in fierce loyalty to Nightfall and unveiled
the unnamed terrors Specters had caused on Earth.
There had been short revolts and riots which lead to nothing more than people
choosing sides. There was very little pertaining to recent years. It appeared
the war between the Specters and Loyalist had remained a cold war for some
time..
I silently creeped out the library as the streets lights clicked off and the sun began to rise. I waved to shopkeepers opening up for the day. I wanted to dally in town but I hoped I still had a job to get to.
I pedaled slowly back to
After quickly showering and changing clothes I cautiously entered Mr. Fierro’s home.
Peeking through the backdoor I could see Kayla was outside playing in the garden. The gate was unlocked so he must be home.
I jumped as a shrill telephone ring came from the kitchen.
Ducking into the parlor with the duster I heard Mr. Fierro hurry down the stairs and pick up the telephone.
“Yes ?”, he said into the receiver, “Of course. . . Thank you,”
He hung up slowly and hesitantly. I waited for him to come out when I head the clattering of cups and spoons. He was making coffee
I wondered if I should announce my presence or sneak out and spend the day at home, of course Kayla had already seen me.
I moved the coffee table and carefully stood on it so I could dust the
chandelier, the little glass shingles sounded like bells as the duster tickled
them. My shoes threatened to break the glass cover but I hoped they wouldn't
Mr. Fierro appeared at the doorway, he had a half finished cup of coffee in his hand held to his lips. He watched me closely with growing disapproval.
“Ms. DeLune”, He appeared at the door way, “Do not stand on my table.”
“I’m sorry, Sir”
He turned away but hesitated for second
He had heard it in my voice, I wasn't talking about the table. I knew what it was like to be seperated from the ones you loved
The wall he had put up was apparent , but not yet showing the pain it covered.
I stepped off the table and placed it back in the corner.
Sitting on the edge of the table I took a closer look at my surroundings.
I couldn’t imagine a woman living here or anyone really. Except for Emile’s room everything was always in it’s perfect place, the house didn’t look at all lived in. it was as if time stood still.
It was as if he was waiting for her to come back.
Mr. Fierro returned to the living room setting down a stack of papers on the table, he quietly ignored me while I dusted every clock, vase and painting in the room.
The only sound was the ticking of the clock.
“You’re a Loyalist aren’t you?”, I asked, “I read all about them.”
It was if I hadn’t said a word.
I continued, “You think my grandmother is a bad person because she wants to be with her family again. You know where I’m from people value the right to choose.”
I heard the faint scratching of pen so I knew he was still there.
“I’d almost forgotten what my mother looked like”, I told him, “she was so beautiful, even when she was crying. I’d give anything to--”
“What of the humans, Ms. DeLune ?”, I felt him standing behind me, “What choice do they have ? Every relentless evil haunting and sleepless nights, the cold air of an ungodly creature surrounding you. . . and those desperate dark souls who so wish to be human again, reach in and try to posses an innocent body till they are thwarted out to seek their next victim.”
I turned around not expecting him to be standing so close to me, his colorless eyes seemed darker and vacant as usual.
“They are called history books for a reason”, he said taking his papers and leaving, “get out”, he ordered
“I’m sorr-“
“Get out”, He snatched the duster from me and hurled it out the door. He led me out by the arm and drew the doors shut.
I was going to pay for that.
+++
I dug the tip of my toes in the dirt and holding on to the fraying strings I twisted the ropes around one more time, before lifting my feet off the ground and letting the swing quickly unswivled.
“Push me, Ms. Clara.”, Kayla called.
I suffered from a bit of vertigo as I made my way over to the swing Kayla was sitting on.
“No to high, okay”, she said
“Is this good”, I pushed it a little but I could tell her heart wasn’t in it.
We had snuck away today to a little park that was located in the
back of one of the deserted houses at the far end of
I had been watching Kayla from my spot on the ground getting more reading done, when She had goaded me into joining her on the swings.
“Are you getting tired ?”, I asked her
“No”, she rubbed her eyes, but I knew she couldn’t be tired. It was all in her head. Ms. Ginger seemed to think it was best to keep her schedule as normal as we could.
But I wondered how long it would last. Till she realized she didn’t need to sleep or eat, it was all just psychological.
“Well, I am. Let’s head back.”
“Ms. Clara ?”
“Yes ?”. I hated when she asked me questions.
“What happened to the man that took me ?”
In the 2 months I had been in Nightfall I learned everyone had their way of avoiding the unpleaseant. Ms. Ginger and Emile liked to change the subject. Mr. Fierro liked to ignore it and occasionally the old man at the clothing shop would go on tangents about other things.
I stopped mid step and reached down to pick up my shoes.
“Hey, I’ll race you back to Ms. Ginger’s”
Before she could agree I started off running at a slow pace down the hill, she quickly followed and took the lead which I preffered anyways.
We both made it to Ms. Ginger’s front door at the same time. Ms. Ginger was waiting outside when we arrived.
“Are you staying for dinner, Clara ?”, Ms. Ginger asked
“Yes”
I was planning on staying for dinner and then some.
+++
After Kayla had been put to bed Ms. Ginger and I settled into her TV room.
“So”, I said, “were you going to tell me about the Specters ?”
“It’s so unpleasant”, she said adding some more water to her
plants, “It didn’t really effect
“And Mr. Fierro’s girlfriend”
“How did you find out about her ?”, she asked
“Emile”, I said simply, “You’ve lived here for 20 years and never thought to tell me any of this? What was she like?”
“All I’m going to say is that they were very much in love.”
“What was her name?”
“Well, I knew her as Mrs. Fierro”
I choked on my lemon water.
“He was married?”
“To think Emile’s a writer and didn’t tell you the full story”, she found it very humorous.
“I had no idea”
“It’s not at very happy story”, she said.
We sat in silence for a few minutes.
“Did you know I was engaged ?”, I asked.
“No… but I’m not surprised.”
+++
“I want them all removed, Ms. DeLune”
I nodded as I looked at the large tasks before me.
“Yes, Mr. Fierro”
“I will not have thorns on my roses, if I find even one tomorrow I will dock your pay.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but that was what had gotten me here in the first place. I was getting closer to the piano and more importantly out of the monster’s house.
Three days had passed since Emile left and I was counting down the hours till I wouldn’ t have to be alone with Mr. Fierro. This morning he had decided to dull out my punishment for talking back to him.
He watched as I took the sharp knife and held on of the bushes carefully shearing away the thorns when the thin stem snapped. One down, hundreds of thousands left to go.
“I can’t do this”, I had already given up, “just dock my pay.”
He sighed with frustration
“Ms. DeLune what do I pay you for ?”
“To be your maid.” I answered
“And what does a domestic worker like yourself do ?”
I wanted to tell him that I didn’t know because I had never been nor personally hired a maid before, but instead I went back to work.
“When you are finished wait for me in the kitchen.”
“Yes, sir”, I said
When the last bush was done I went inside and scrubbed my hands and face clean. I peeked into the piano room to look in the mirror I noticed my hair had grown past my shoulders, but nothing else about my appearance had changed.
And it never would.
I took my time walking back towards the kitchen thinking over every painting, decoration and room I cleaned. Trying to find a hint of the newlyweds who must have lived here.
For the first time since I arrived I thought of Peter Moratti.
Born and raised in Italy Peter was almost as brilliant of a musician as I was. He’d mastered the viola and violin by the age of ten. At fifteen his parents sent him to the one place where his gift could be nourished.
The DeLune Academy
of Rochester, my family's dynasty.
My father had introduced us just before morning classes. I learned he was living in one of the most expensive dorms on campus and like me came from old money.
We shared a bench in Classical Theory and a desk in Chemistry.
Peter quickly became one of the popular kids at school, while I kept my status as the President’s daughter spending time with other trustee’s kids.
Our families had, unbeknownst to us, been very close, so Peter was often invited to the Big House on the hill for dinner. We dated for a month but over the years he would come over to spend time with my sister’s and I, and when Clarice and Claudia went to college it was just the two of us for a year.
After graduation Peter went on to the DeLune Conservatory of Rome while I went to University of Rochester. We often e-mailed and visited during summer holidays and family trips.
Peter was beyond handsome with dark hair and emerald green eyes, he was classical handsome and intelligent.
While I was finishing up my Master’s my mother began to worry about my well being and happiness. She urged how important it was that I share my life with someone.
Peter felt the same way and no sooner had I finished my Master’s we were engaged. He moved to Manhattan and we saw each other every other weekend.
We laughed at how our mother’s doted over wedding plans and spent late nights planning out lives together.
Maybe we would have had a house like this and filled it with pictures and our most prized possessions. Maybe even have dinner parties with our college friends.
Maybe
.“Ms. DeLune”, I jumped at the sound of Mr. Fierro’s voice, “You may join me in the parlor.”
I took my time following him and sat on the couch across from him. With a quick flick of a switch the fireplace roared to life.
“I guess it is getting cold”, I commented. . . I was nervous and still thinking about Peter.
“Ms. DeLune, I have an offer for you.” he adjusted the decorative plates on the mantle, keeping his back to me.
“Really ?”,
“I will be going to the City of Bordeaux
next week. Emile will be meeting me there. I want you to accompany me.
Additionally if you do your job
properly I will compensate you for the rest of our contract.”
“I’ll do it”, I didn’t even think twice
“Very well”, he seemed please.
“Do you want me to stay ?”, I wasn’t quite sure where that came from but for the first time it looked as if I had caught him of guard so I continued., “With Emile gone I know how lonely these big houses can ge—“
“. . . good night, Ms. DeLune”
He turned off the fireplace and made his way to his bedroom.
+++
Autumn came silently to
I was surprised to receive a letter from Emile telling me he was doing well and that being in a new environment had fueled his urgency to finish the book.
Although there was never a shortange of task for Mr. Fierro to give me, I still kept everything rather light and honestly could have put more effort into it.
I was growing homesick, tired of playing the working girl and wanted to settle back into my life of being taken care of, financially anyway.
Kneeling in the cool dirt of Mr. Fierro’s garden I used the kitchen shears to carefully remove some Old English roses from the ground and arranged them in the white vase I'd found in the cupboard.
Mr. Fierro had been busy preparing for his upcoming trip. From what I could tell this had something to do with Emile’s book but apart from that he kept me in the dark.
Once the flowers were 
artfully arranged I carried the heavy
vase back through the backdoor , leaving my shoes by the door. I continued
to the piano room and placed the vase so it was facing the window and mirror.
I took a seat at the forbidden piano and toyed with the petals of the
flowers, letting some of them fall onto the keyboard.
I was incurably lonely.
“Ms. DeLune ?”
I could hear the disapproval in his voice before he spoke, but I didn’t care today.
Taking a deep breath I stood up ready to hear my lecture about breaking his rules.
“Yes, Sir ?”
Mr. Fierro was as always handsomely dressed considering the large amount of time he spent shut away in his home office.He turned on his heels and motioned for me to follow. I did so almost too adamantly.
I followed him into the living room not quite sure what was left to clean.
“Sit”, he ordered pointing to the Settee in the corner.
I didn’t respond but followed his directions.
“Ms. Delune, we will be leaving for The City of Bordeaux soon. As I am sure you have gathered this is a business trip. It is important to convey considerable respect and I—“
“Please,Mr. Fierro, it’s almost seven. Could you hurry this along ?”
If he was shocked by my outburst he didn’t let it show. I just wanted to crawl under the covers and sleep.
“I would appreciate it if you dressed appropriately and mind your behavior, if possible.”
He was scolding me like a child, as if he was somehow better
than me.
“I am perfectly capable of dressing myself.”
He handed me the white envelope that was in his hands.
“Money ?”
“No more hand-me downs, Ms. DeLune. Good Night”
“I don’t need your money”, I protested
“I have been withholding twenty percent from your wages and now I am giving it to you. It’s quite simple”
I didn’t know how to respond, this had been the closest thing to a conversation we’d had since we first met.
“Good night, Mr. Fierro”
+++
“Oh, yes ! I love it”
“It’s. . .very pink ?”
I turned around in the three way mirror, scrutinizing the hot pink sheath dress the sales woman had talked me into trying on.
It was short just above the knees but if fit perfectly, It was a bit short and very loud but I had just wanted to try it on.
“Well, I still love it !”, said the sales woman again
“Do you think it’s appropriate”, I asked
“It certainly is for you. Why don’t you think about it ?”
I nodded as she walked off. Staring into the mirrors I could see myself very clear.
The truth was I hadn’t changed much physically, since arriving something that was beginning to irk me.
“Melanie ? Melanie ! here is an open one.”
I froze as two girls entered the dressing room I quickly ducked into my fitting room. One of those girls had looked very familiar.
“I just think he is very odd.” said Melanie’s Friend
“You think everyone is odd, Carla.”
“He lives in the big creepy house and what kind of man keeps
roses ?”, continued Carla
Peeking through the opening in the door, I saw two petite blondes in the dressing mirror, as Melanie twirled in the mirror I recognized her as the Bordeaux girl who had visited with Mr. Fierro.
“Your just jealous”, concluded Melanie
"You have heard the rumors. . . now those are odd.”, Carla retorted.
I heard the clanking of hangers and zippers as they stepped out in new dresses. I could see Melanie was in the pink one I was wearing.
“You say odd. . . I say romantic.”
They left the subject and chatted about their dresses once they left I quietly emerged.
“Oh, are you still trying this on ?”, the sales woman snuck up on me.
“oh . . .um, I’ll take it.”
Rumors ?
It seemed maybe there was a little more to learn about