Chapter 2
CILLA
“Mother, I’ve told you it’s time you moved on.
” I don’t wait for her to nag at me about what I should do.
I continue. “You know you are dead and need to stop messing with my life. Move along now, you are holding up the line.” I smirk at my own thought, as I can imagine a line of up-and-coming angels getting pissed while my mother is holding up the line, like she’s in some store waiting to be served.
I shut out anything my mother has to say and grab my coat ready to head out to work.
I’m working at the funeral home, which I hate because honestly, they will not shut the hell up.
Telling me all about how they died. If someone did something bad to them.
How much they loved their families. I even had one tell me her husband poisoned her, and yeah you know it.
I found the proof and had him arrested. He’s serving life at this point.
Sighing as I come to a stop, I look around and thank everything holy that nobody is around to witness my conversation with a…
well, they’d only see me talking to empty space, so would have me looking like a looney-tune.
Gritting my teeth again, and thinking this could cost me in dental work, I snap, “What do you expect me to do? I’ve been to the place you told me to go.
I spoke to the man. I did what you asked me to. ”
I tilt my head to one side as I listen to him prattle on, but he’s just repeating himself until he says that he knows ZeBach is coming and he’s going to blow up the clubhouse.
My mind whirls as I think of the people I saw at that clubhouse, and it wasn’t just a few.
There had to be at least twenty or more.
Goddamn it, I’m going to have to go back again!
“Bono, if you get me killed, I’m going to kill you all over again.
That’s a promise.” Of course, that has him laughing his ass off and telling me he likes me. Asshole!
I head into work and the first thing I’m met with is Alan Pilhurst screaming about me being two minutes late.
Two minutes! Well, I’m about done for the day being screamed at and ordered around.
I look this ignorant idiot right in the eye.
“I’m done. Wash them and dress them yourself.
I’m done with it and you. I’ve worked here for four years and only been late once.
Today is two freaking minutes and you are on my back.
Well, Alan…” Yeah, I snarl. “I’m done. No notice is needed because I have enough information on you charging more than you should and pocketing the difference.
In fact, I may speak with Mr. Gordenstone and tell him what you are up to. Yeah, that is a good idea I just had.”
Turning, I march out the door with the idiot right behind me, because we both know he’s not going to want to deal with the dead people in the building.
“Hey, hey, come on, Cilla. I’m just having a bad morning…”
Oh, I whirl around on him and feel smug when he takes two steps back as we are nearly nose-to-nose.
“Don’t call me Cilla. I told you only my friends call me that.
You are not a friend. You are a miserable asshole who needs to get a life.
Maybe a new job where it’s not so morbid would help.
But as I said we are done, I’m going home and not coming back.
” I whip around and rush away, not giving him a chance to respond.
“Shut your mouth,” I snarl at Bono who is still following me around. “Go away, for goodness’ sake! Give me a break.”
I storm ahead of Bono, but I can hear him damn guffawing. If he weren’t dead, I’d strangle the asshole. Now, I’ve more things to worry about, like getting a new job and going back to that clubhouse. But first, I need more information on this ZeBach fella.
Closing the door, I put my purse on the table in the hall, then place the house keys in the small pot next to the purse and hang my jacket on the coat hook.
I’m now in automatic mode. Make tea. Chamomile should do it, calming! Once done, I sit at the small kitchen table and take a sip while closing my eyes. I throw up my mental barrier to give me a moment’s peace from Bono who is now standing in front of the sink watching me.
Once I’ve calmed and feel more like myself I open my eyes, but keep the mental barrier in place for a moment longer. Bono is still watching me patiently, but I suppose he’s dead so he has all the time in the world!
Finishing my tea, I drop the barrier and speak to Bono. “Okay, tell me all about ZeBach and what I need to tell your friend Tracker.”
I listen to Bono fill me in on who this man is, why he is crazy about having revenge. The fact ZeBach needs to die because of all the vile things he has done, and that I need to help his friends because there are more than one of his old team at the clubhouse.
“So, let’s see. One - ZeBach is here to kill all your friends because during a mission you all had demolished his place, which killed most of his nasty ass followers.
Two, - he is being chased by Homeland Security because he’s classed as a terrorist. Three - you can keep that information to yourself.
” Bono laughs again at that last comment, but I plow on. “Do you know where ZeBach is now?”
I listen while he mulls over the question, then shakes his head that no, he doesn’t.
I give him a tut and a shake of the head before speaking to him again.
“Well, get gone and find out. I am not going to that clubhouse with no information that can substantiate what I’m telling them.
Go on, buzz off and don’t come back until you have better information.
” I close my eyes tightly and wish him gone and opening one eye I’m happy to see he has. Wow, I’ll have to try that one again.
Heading into the living room, I pick up my laptop and walk back to the kitchen table where I open it and start it up so I can search for a new job.
Thankfully, I have savings and the amount my mother left me when she died.
I used the sale of her house to pay off my mortgage.
It gave me the opportunity to save more, and I’m at this time not overly worried about finding a job tomorrow.
But this time I want a job I may actually enjoy.
After finding the local newspaper section where jobs are listed, I write the vacancies onto a notepad. My hope of a good job is going further and further down.
· Diner – server needed
· Motel – cleaner
· Bar – kitchen help
· Lawyer's office – receptionist
Well, that doesn’t leave much choice, and I’m not cleaning that motel because it’s a dive and I know the pimp uses it for some of his ladies. Yuck, no way am I cleaning in that place.
The bar is where a lot of the bikers hang out, and I’m not sure that is my cup of tea. I have nothing against them. I just don’t know them, and Bono placing me on their radar is enough.
As for the lawyer’s office, I give myself a moment to chuckle because I can imagine someone coming into the reception and I already see they have something to hide, or I can tip them off. Nope, it’s not a good idea at all.
That leaves the diner! Hmm, well I suppose I can hand out meals without too much trouble. If I put my barrier up before going into work I’ll not see everyone’s family, friends, or enemies hovering over them while they enjoy their breakfast or meal.
I have met Shelby the owner, and I like her.
We met at the church festival for Thanksgiving last year.
She is amusing, and she told me to tell people to fuck off if they messed with me.
She believed in my ability, and that means such a lot to me, because let’s be honest, most people just think I’m batshit crazy.
Yeah, it looks like the diner is going to be where I head out to next.
See if I can get myself a job. Anything is better than nothing, and I think I’m going to be happier serving at the diner than working at the funeral home.
I’ve had enough death around me to last a lifetime. Trouble is, the dead keep following me!
Ninety minutes later has me sitting in the diner office with Shelby. “So, Cilla. Is it alright for me to call you Cilla?” Shelby asks.
“Yes, that’s good, Shelby.”
Shelby gives me a bright smile as she continues.
“The job is for the morning shift. We open at 6:00 a.m. so our working customers can get in, eat, and get to work on time. I’m here with the cook of the day at 5:00 a.m. and you would have to be here by 5:45 a.m. That way you are here ready to serve when the doors open.
Believe me, there is a heck of a rush when that happens.
You will be flat out serving for ninety minutes, then it quiets down to a more gentle service.
We have regular seniors who congregate for breakfast every day.
They say it stops loneliness and for them to help each other, if needed. ”
“Okay, sounds fine to me, Shelby. I don’t sleep that well, so getting up early may help me actually sleep better at night.” I give her a smile that shows I’m not worried about the time on the job and that I’m finding something positive in it, too.
“Can you start the day after tomorrow? The woman who is leaving actually leaves tomorrow. You do not want to mix with her. She’s only worked for me six weeks, and those weeks have been horrendous.
I’m saving you from her toxicity unless you have one of her relatives that can, you know, mess with her?
” Shelby’s eyes are sparkling with mischief, and I giggle before I can stop myself.
“Oh, and if any of my friends or relatives who have passed want to speak to me, tell them no. The only one I’d be interested in having contact me is Grandma Josie.
Gosh, I love her still, she will always have a place in my heart. ”
“Noted,” I reply, but see nobody wanting to speak with her, so I’m thankful for that.
Leaving the diner, I make my way to the grocery store, before home, and hope Bono gets to me about this ZeBach character so I can contact the bikers, tell them what is what and move on.
I stop at the grocery store, pick up a few things, and ignore Bert’s friend Shirley who wants me to say hi for her.
Bert is the shelf filler and has been since he retired, but it was rumored he’d had a romantic thing going on with Shirley much to Bernice, his wife’s, anger.
I pay for my groceries and quickly head home.
I’ll be more than happy to close the door on everything for a while.
I need to be ready for my job, so chores around the house need doing before that happens.
Goodness' sake, Shirley has followed me home. “Shirley, go away. I’m not talking to Bert about you or passing on messages. You need to be moving along before I tell Bernice what you are up to again. When she crosses over, you are so going to be in trouble!” I smirk when – poof – Shirley has gone. Peace, thankfully, some peace.