Chapter 49 Lilyvale
forty-nine
Lilyvale
The girls are the first to assemble, but they gather in the kitchen, where they spent most of their physical lives. It amuses them to see how much easier things are now, yet how louder people complain.
They compare their outfits, the quality of lace in their respective lifetimes, then move onto petty arguing—their way to gauge each other’s state of mind. Finally the oldest one acknowledges the live women in the room and says, “I like this one.”
“The pastry chef? She uses foul language,” the more coquettish of the girls says.
“She has a good heart,” her elder by fifty years says—although by her perfect figure and lineless face, no one can tell.
“I like her for our Willow,” the one who spoke first explains. “She’s a reliable friend. One needs friends like these, especially with what the world has come to.”
A faint chorus agrees with her.
“I’m worried about Lane. What can we do to help?”
“I’ll be on baby duty!”
A cackle echoes through my hallways. Different opinions on nursing, diaper changes, nap times, lullabies, until someone raises their voice. “What does The First want with us? We can’t be having meetings every ten years now. It’s disruptive!”
Noah Callaway The First runs the household of spirits the way he did the living. With an iron fist and a vision.
When the grandfather clock strikes four o’clock, he expects everyone to gather.
Such a large meeting will go unnoticed in broad daylight, the form of the spirits easily confused with dust mites by unsuspecting living beings.
And although time has no significance in this world, The First likes to sharpen his flock’s attention to the world of the living.
Without his constant care, who knows where Lilyvale and Emerald Creek would be now?
“Call to order!” The First croaks, making the girls jump and glide to the staircase, where the main meetings are held.
The crowd of spirits is three rows high and extends as far as their glassy eyes can see, spilling into adjacent rooms, hanging off candelabras.
The brownnosers are floating horizontally at the ceiling, hoping The First will notice them.
It’s not every day a full meeting is called. In fact, such an attendance has never been seen at Lilyvale.
The cacophony struggles to die down.
“Welp, we’ve been summoned.”
“Nobody says welp.”
“Keep up with the times!”
“I’m pleased by the measure of your affection for our beloved Lilyvale,” The First starts, his voice like distant thunder hushing everyone. “Times are dire and you are called to fulfil your duties.”
“I told Amy what she needed to do!” Elsbeth pleads. “I promise I did!”
“I did like you said!” a distraught Amy answers. “I scared her! And look where we are now!”
“I’d like to have a word with The Sixth,” someone in the back whispers.
“Tickling feet is not enough!” Elsbeth snaps at Amy.
“Now, now,” The First says in a surprisingly understanding tone.
“Sixth is on time-out for this one, and Amy is still learning the ropes.” Elsbeth chuckles at his unintended pun.
“Everyone else is hereby summoned to do your best. Think about the skills you had in the material world. How can they be useful now? We’ve let things slip, and it is our duty to amend this. ”
As The First vanishes from his flock’s perception, conversations resume, louder. “I’ve an idea,” The Fourth, who had a long career in engineering, says.
“Amy, you’re coming with me this time,” Elsbeth orders. “It’s time you learned the ropes,” she repeats. “Got it?”
“But what are we going to do about Lane?” Amy whines. She’s been having a hard time letting go of the living, and she acts as if she were still around.
They all do. It’s the way of humans.