28. Bucket List #2
Pixie hits the “off” button and the red light blinks itself out. There are so many emotions flooding my system right now, I could have switched it myself.
“You can’t just . . . sentence me without a trial,” Peter says, his expression morphing into something more calculating. Instead of thrashing against his boundaries, he seems to be gently teasing them with his hands and feet. “Where’s all your proof?”
“You admitted it!” Jeanie shouts.
“I admitted to accidentally hurting you. I didn’t kill you. That was Angel.”
She balls her fists. “He wouldn’t.”
“You could have a trial if you like,” Camille says. “We could take you to the Old Scares. You could put your case to them.”
“Wonderful plan, Camille,” Magnus booms. He’s still wearing his sweatpants. He must find them as comfy as everyone else does.
“Wait, wait, wait, can’t we work something out?” In his haste to dismiss getting the poltergeists involved, Peter rushes forward and knocks his head on his invisible barrier. It makes a “doink” sound.
Magnus seems to churn this thought over. “Nah.”
“No, no, no. Please,” Peter pleads.
“This isn’t the right way to handle things,” Pixie says, and Peter’s shoulders drop in relief. “Eternal damnation is the coward’s way out. He needs to suffer. He killed a fifteen?year?old boy. I don’t give a shit about myself or the rest of you, but Josh was a child.”
“And not only that,” Trystan adds. “But he stole someone else’s body, their physical consciousness to do his bidding.
Imagine being Franny and listening to that show and realising that without your knowledge you held a pillow over Pixie’s airways until she died.
She literally has blood on her hands because of him. I don’t know what’s worse.”
Peter’s gaze flicks between Magnus, Pixie, and Trystan.
Though he should’ve been watching Jeanie, who from nowhere, slaps him across his cheeks. Peter closes his eyes for a beat, but otherwise looks unaffected.
Stove turns to me. “It’s such a shame we can’t really feel pain anymore. It still hurts, don’t get me wrong, but it’s nothing compared to the agony when you were alive. A few hundred kicks to the nuts oughta sort him out for a while.”
“Oh wacko, Stove, what an excellent idea,” Magnus says, grinning from ear to ear. “Peter, your punishment for the murders of—”
“What about my trial?” he whines.
“What about my trial, what about my trial,” Magnus repeats back to him in a crybaby voice.
Peter instantly sobers. “How’s this for a trial?
A three?thousand?year?old omnipotent deity has witnessed you slaughtering innocent human lives and possessing bodies for purposes other than consuming biscuits and caviar and cheese fondue, et cetera.
You have caused unimaginable suffering to hundreds of people.
There is no way for you to know this, but two months ago Josh’s parents finally donated some of his things to charity.
Josh’s mum sat in his room and cried for an hour.
You deserve to suffer in the multitude of untold ways they have. ”
“Kill him all over again,” Pixie says, her voice so quiet, so venomous that it’s almost a whisper.
“Your punishment, Peter Roskelly.” Magnus isn’t really shouting, but his words are so heavy that they silence everything else.
Even the electrical humming has stopped.
“You will be brought back to life for an indefinite period of time, and you will feel pain again, as pain was intended to be felt. The people you have wronged may punish you in any way they choose to see fit. They will be able to touch you once more, physically hurt you. You will not be able to touch them. Then, once your victims have been satiated, you will be returned to ghost form, and your boundaries will be redefined to a three-foot?by?three-foot square. Everyone in agreement?”
“Sounds fantastic,” Pixie says, sideways glancing at Jeanie.
Jeanie nods and cracks her knuckles. The moment would’ve been hilarious if it weren’t for . . . you know, everything.
“Where should we place your new bijou boundaries?” Magnus asks everyone besides Peter.
“A hundred metres into the ocean,” Camille suggests.
“How about the septic tank?” Stove asks.
“Good one,” Pixie says.
“I think, for Helga’s benefit, it should be somewhere out of the way from the hotel’s main activities,” I say. “But somewhere she can easily get to if she chooses to visit him.”
Jeanie places her hand on my shoulder. “He doesn’t deserve that kind of humanity.”
“I know,” I agree. “But Helga does.”
Jeanie opens her mouth, closes it again, and nods.
“The first part of your punishment will begin momentarily and will end . . . I dunno, when everyone’s bored, I guess, and the second part of your punishment should last .
. . gosh, I suppose if everyone you killed had an average life span of eighty-five years, minus the years they’d already lived, that gives you an imprisonment of .
. . two hundred and ninety?five years. Eh, let’s round that up to a nice even three million, shall we?
” Magnus turns to me. “Gary, d’you want first dibs? ”
Without anyone moving, all the furniture in the room and all the cabinets zoom noiselessly to the walls, creating a large empty space in the centre.
“This is ridiculous,” Peter argues.
“Shut your motherfucking murdering mouth up,” Jeanie spits, and Pixie nods in agreement.
Magnus holds his hand out in invitation, but I shake my head.
“Yeah, I’m good.” I’m not about to thank Peter for what he’s done because he is literally despicable, but without him killing everyone he did, I would never have met Trystan. I would never have fallen in love.
In death I’ve found a happiness life couldn’t provide.
“Fair play,” Magnus says, obviously having read my thoughts. “Trystan?”
Trystan looks over at me and takes my hand in his. “Maybe later. I need some time to process it and think about what feels just. Right now, I want to spend some time with Gary, if that’s okay?”
Magnus smiles softly and shoos us out of the room.
As we leave, I hear Stove say, “Can we use weapons?”
“Oooh, what have you got in mind?” Magnus chirps.
When we get to the end of the corridor, Josh is standing there. He has that teenager?about?to?be?in?trouble look on his face. “I listened,” he says. “To the podcast. I know it was Peter.”
“And you’re still here,” I say, holding my arms out like it’s a miracle.
“Guess that wasn’t my unfinished business after all.”
“I don’t think anybody’s unfinished business was solving their murder,” I say.
“Hey, Magnus is letting us all go to town on Peter, if you’re interested in that?” Trystan says. “He’s making it so that Pete can feel pain again, if you wanted to go kick him for a bit. You might have to wait a while, though. Jeanie looked like she had an itinerary of trauma ready for him.”
Josh laughs, then frowns. “I dunno if I feel comfortable with that.” He thinks about how his words must have sounded.
“Like, I understand he blew my face off and all that, but . . .” He shrugs.
“I’m just not sure if I wanna create more .
. . suffering . . .” He considers this a little more.
“Or maybe I don’t wanna be the one to do it. ”
“That’s fair. That’s actually a pretty grown-up take. If you decide how you want to punish him, let me know and I’ll do it on your behalf when I see him,” Trystan says.
A sly grin slips over Josh’s face. “Shove some pubes in his mouth.”
I snort with laughter.
“Um . . . sure?” Trystan agrees.
“And then rub his neck like you’re getting a dog to swallow its pills.”
“Sick and twisted. I like it,” I say.
Josh bows theatrically and floats off in the opposite direction.
Trystan turns to me. “I think I found a place that could either become your room, or if you don’t love it enough to be your room, we could just spend tonight there?
It’s outside of everyone else’s boundaries except Jeanie’s and Peter’s and well .
. . they’re both a little preoccupied right now, so we won’t be disturbed by anyone. ”
“Show me.”