Chapter 5
Etiquette Hell and A Big Hole
Madame Theodora Grimm glided onto the platform carrying a briefcase and what appeared to be a lectern that materialized at her command.
Her steel-gray hair was pulled back in a severe bun secured with multiple hairpins, and she wore a high-necked black dress with countless tiny buttons marching up to her chin.
Glasses perched on her nose as she adjusted the microphone and surveyed her audience with the critical eye of a strict headmistress.
"Welcome, dear departed souls, to this most auspicious gathering," she began in crisp, precise tones. "Before we commence our weekend of fellowship and learning, it behooves us all to review the fundamental principles of spectral etiquette that govern civilized spirit society."
In the third row, Finn exchanged glances with Chet and Beau. The three friends had positioned themselves strategically near an exit, and already Finn was shifting restlessly in his seat.
"The first and most essential rule," Madame Grimm continued, "concerns the proper manifestation of one's aura in mixed company. One must never allow one's emanations to become overly dramatic or attention-seeking..."
"Bloody hell," Chet muttered under his breath. "This is worse than Sunday school."
"...furthermore, when engaging in cross-dimensional conversation, one must always maintain appropriate translucency levels. Nothing below forty percent opacity in formal settings, and never exceeding seventy-five percent without express permission from the gathering's hosts..."
Beau leaned over to whisper, "Gentlemen, I do believe our evening requires... alternative entertainment."
Madame Grimm droned on about proper floating techniques, acceptable haunting protocols, and the seventeen different types of appropriate greetings for various social situations. Around them, other spirits were beginning to glaze over with the particular kind of boredom that transcends death itself.
"...and now we turn to the critical matter of ectoplasmic discharge in public spaces. There are precisely forty-three acceptable circumstances under which..."
That was enough for Finn. With the stealth of someone who'd been sneaking out of boring lectures for a lifetime, he began to slowly fade from his seat.
Chet and Beau followed suit, their forms becoming increasingly translucent until they were barely visible wisps drifting toward the edge of the clearing.
From her position backstage, Evangelina noticed the trio's departure immediately. As a former dark creatures expert, her attention to detail was legendary, and three party-minded spirits abandoning a formal gathering set off every alarm bell in her ghostly consciousness.
Beside her, Lily was arranging a magnificent flowers and fruit display for the upcoming convention events, her gentle presence a calming counterpoint to Evangelina's growing unease.
"I should follow them," Evangelina stated firmly, beginning to drift in the direction the three had taken.
"Be careful," Lily whispered. "There's something about tonight that feels... unsettled."
"Agreed." Evangelina raised an eyebrow. "I'll return as soon as I'm sure they are not causing any trouble."
Evangelina moved toward the forest path, the monotone speech fading as she glided away from the clearing. She paused near a cluster of ancient oaks when two voices engaged in what appeared to be a heated but subdued conversation caught her ear.
"I'm not finished," came Evelyn's quiet voice, barely audible above the distant drone of Madame Grimm's lecture.
"But you have to be," Cornelius replied, his pleasant tone carrying an edge of impatience.
"You're rushing me," Evelyn protested, her voice gaining a hint of desperation. "This will compromise everything."
"It doesn't have to be perfect," Cornelius said smoothly. "Just better than the last."
There was a pause, and when Evelyn spoke again, her voice was barely a whisper. "That wasn't my fault."
"What wasn't your fault?" Cornelius's tone sharpened slightly.
"You know exactly what I mean," Evelyn replied.
Evangelina drifted closer.
"The arrangements are final," Cornelius continued. "Everything depends on tomorrow's presentation."
"I just need more time—"
"Time we don't have," he cut her off firmly.
"Mr. Lennox! Ms. Marsh!" Evangelina suddenly called out.
"Oh! How wonderful to encounter a representative of our delightful host town," Cornelius's tone shifted to one of pleasant surprise as he spotted Evangelina's approaching form.
Evangelina materialized more fully, studying the pair with keen interest. "Good evening. I trust you're both settling in well?"
"Absolutely," Cornelius replied with that magazine-cover smile. "Though I'm afraid we're dealing with a small logistical issue regarding tomorrow's book reading. Some confusion about the arrangements that we're trying to sort through."
Evangelina's gaze shifted to Evelyn, whose mousy form seemed to radiate tension despite her attempt to appear composed.
The smaller ghost was wavering which Evangelina recognized as distress, while Cornelius maintained the steady, controlled emanation of someone accustomed to managing tense situations.
"I see," Evangelina said carefully. "Well, if there's anything our town can do to assist with your... deadline concerns..."
"Most kind," Cornelius said. "I'm certain we'll have everything resolved shortly."
Something in the interaction struck Evangelina as off-balance, “she looked toward the woods where the three ghosts has floated. She needed to see what they were up to, but she also felt compelled to keep an eye on the pair in front of her. “Tell me more, let me see if I can help.”
Cornelius raised and eyebrow, and began to weave a tale of microphones, and projections.
Talking about lighting and floral arrangements.
All the logistics of his upcoming spotlight speech, which had nothing to do with the true concerns floating between he and Evelyn.
He expertly guided Evangelina back toward the clearing and away from his assistant, unknowingly keeping her from her spying expedition.
Meanwhile, the three truant spirits had made their way through the dark forest and back to the cemetery, giggling like schoolboys as they emerged from the tree line.
"Freedom!" Finn announced, spreading his ghostly arms wide. "No more lectures about proper ectoplasmic etiquette!"
"I vote we explore this delightful little graveyard," Beau declared. "Perhaps find some local spirits to dig up."
"Look there," Chet pointed toward a large mound of fresh earth near one of the older headstones. "Someone's been doing some late-night gardening."
The trio approached the disturbed ground curiously, only to hear the unmistakable sound of deep, contented snoring emanating from beneath the soil.
"Well, I'll be damned," Finn laughed. "Literally, in fact. Someone's buried alive and having a grand time of it!"
They began digging with ghostly enthusiasm, moving earth surprisingly fast. Soon they had uncovered the peacefully sleeping form of Butcher, who was snoring so deeply that he might as well have been hibernating.
"Poor fellow looks exhausted," Beau observed as they carefully reburied the zombie caretaker. "Probably worked himself to the bone preparing for all of us."
"Literally," Chet snickered.
As they finished topping off Butcher’s grave, a strange light caught their attention near the great stone Devil Oak Tree that dominated the center of the cemetery.
"What's that?" Finn asked, pointing toward a small point of light that seemed to pulse with its own rhythm near the base of the massive sculpture.
The light sputtered and sparked, growing brighter with each pulse until it began to emit a low, harmonious humming that sounded almost like distant voices.
"Now that's more like it!" Chet exclaimed, rubbing his ghostly hands together. "Finally, something interesting!"
"Much better than listening to lectures about proper floating techniques," Beau agreed, practically bouncing with excitement.
The trio eagerly drifted closer to investigate. The light continued to intensify, and the humming grew more distinct until they could almost make out words within the shadowy vibration that had become a small circle.
"Can you hear that?" Beau asked, leaning closer with delight rather than fear.
The humming suddenly crystallized into words that seemed to come from the center of the circle of light itself: "One for one... an eye for an eye... what was done will be done..."
"Ooh, mysterious!" Finn said, grinning widely. "I love a good mystical pronouncement. Very dramatic!"
"Think it's some kind of portal?" Chet asked hopefully. "We're dead—what's the worst that could happen? Another afterlife?"
The circle of light began to spin rapidly, creating a swirling vortex of energy that seemed to widen and open. The humming grew louder, more insistent, and rather than being frightened, the trio found themselves absolutely delighted by this unexpected distraction.
"Now this is what I call a party favor!” Beau declared, leaning even closer to get a better look at the swirling phenomenon.
Without warning, Finn cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted into the spinning light, "HELLO!"
The word echoed back strangely: "Hello... one for one... an eye for an eye... what was done will be done..."
"Did you hear that?" Finn grinned, turning to his friends. "It's talking back!"
"You're an idiot," Chet laughed, and before Finn could react, he gave his friend a solid kick to the rear.
Finn tumbled forward with a surprised yelp, disappearing completely into the swirling vortex.
For a moment, there was silence. Then Chet and Beau looked at each other and burst into laughter.
"Well," Beau said, wiping tears of hilarity from his eyes, "we've gotta go get him!"
"Absolutely!" Chet agreed. "Can't let Finn have all the fun!"
Without hesitation, the two remaining ghosts jumped into the circle together, their laughter echoing behind them as they vanished into the unknown.
The cemetery fell silent except for the continued snoring of the buried Butcher, while in the sacred grove, Madame Theodora Grimm droned on about the forty-seventh acceptable circumstance for ectoplasmic discharge.
In the darkness, the hole re-sealed itself with a sound like cosmic laughter, leaving only the faintest echo of "what was done will be done" hanging in the autumn air.