Home for Wayward Spirits: Part 3

by Shannon Kostyal

Two days later.

“Look, Margaret… I can appreciate that you’re bored, but please stop. I don’t need my mom coming in here and nagging me about the music being too loud.” Aggravation added an edge to my tone. 

“You have music at your fingertips and you don’t even appreciate it.” The apparition drifted away from my stereo, resuming her weird pacing. 

I’d never once considered how unnerving a ghost pacing could be. You’d think it was all huffy, annoyed walking, but no. It was on the creepier side, with an airless whoosh, trailing bits and pieces behind like a chem trail.

“Look…” I started, before taking in a deep breath. I was about to propose something that I dearly hoped wouldn’t be taken the wrong way. I had no idea what ghosts were capable of, but I’d seen poltergeist.

Margaret dissolved and coalesced in front of me. I tried not to flinch.

“Yes?” she clipped out.

“I’m not exactly a party-type. Plus, still underage and mom would flip if I started trying to sneak into clubs. I’m obviously not the right human for you. Also, that dresser is a bit too bulky to lug to a bar, yanno?” I gestured at the antique dresser. Had it only been a few days ago that I brought it home? While I still thought it was fascinating, mom was right — but for a different reason. I was regretting the choice in furniture already. 

The spirit seemed to study me, but wasn’t interrupting. Emboldened, I rushed through the rest of the idea.

“What if I found a way to untether you from the dresser? What would happen?”

The ghost flickered in and out of vision rapidly. I’d figured out this was a sign of agitation.

“You wish to exorcise me? I have no desire to move on toward the light, or whatever such nonsense is being said in this era.”

“No … no, I didn’t mean like that. So if I’m hearing you correctly, presumably to stay, you need to be tethered to something, right?”

A quick nod was all the response I received.

“Okay… “ I trailed off, flipping through ideas in my head before latching onto one. “ What if we untethered you from the dresser, and re-tethered you to something a bit more portable… like, a ring? Or a bracelet? Then we could pair you with someone more likely to engage in activities you want to experience. My sister’s in college, so between her and her friends, I’m sure we could place you with someone more actively engaged in a night life. What do you think?”

Margaret resumed her pacing, and I tried not to look. It really was unnerving.

“Could such a thing be done?” Skepticism colored her voice, but there was an underlying hint of hope to the question.

I shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to promise something I had no idea on. “I don’t know.. But, there’s a lot more books on the supernatural freely available than I imagine there was in your day. I could swing by a few bookstores and see what’s out there…”

Margaret materialized back in front of me, expression somber. “I’m willing to consider the proposal, but if you accidental exorcise me, I’ll —“

“Haunt me? No offense, woman, but you already are.” I responded dryly.

The ghost shot a glare my way. “Then I’ll curse you with the last whisper of my existence.” 

I sighed and rolled my eyes. So dramatic. The prospect of trying to get the diva re-homed with someone else was looking like a pretty good idea.

What followed was several weeks of poring through the used bookstore as well as the library. With school back in session, my time was limited. I didn’t think mom would appreciate my grades dropping as a result of trying to help a ghost. But, by the time I had exhausted my resources, I had three questionable volumes on the fine art of mediumship, two of which had chapters dedicated to haunted objects. 

April 22nd was approaching next week, and I felt the night of the full moon would definitely be the right time to try tethering Margaret to a new object. I wasn’t entirely certain why the full moon was so special, but in all the New Age and witchcraft reading I’d skimmed through, there seemed to be an emphasis with aligning to the lunar cycle for magical activities. I figured it was worth a shot. 

I just had to find the right object. It needed to be something pretty, but easily worn with a lot of things. Margaret was pretty clear that she was still mad at missing out on the roaring 20s, and she wanted to experience the kind of clubs and parties that she’d never had the option to as a well brought up young lady in the early 1900s. The hardest part would be convincing my sister or one of her friends to start accessorizing with the chosen object. 

An idea flashed into my mind and I started laughing. It wasn’t necessarily a very nice idea, but it would accomplish the mission and hopefully get Margaret out of my hair. My sister had a dainty gold filigree bracelet linked together with some kind of sparkly brown stone beads. She had picked it up at the mall a few months back and seemed to always wear it. I’d just need to “borrow” it for a few hours next Tuesday night. 

Present day.

In hindsight, I’ll admit this wasn’t my greatest moment. My logical, rational older sister was not prepared for the nagging, boredom-fueled hauntings of a woman 80 years dead — though as my sister grew older, I think she came to enjoy the ghost’s snarky commentary. You’d have to ask my sister if you want more details on what life with Margaret has been like since then.

But, I did learn a valuable lesson from that first ghost rehoming. Let both parties interview each other prior to placing the spirit with its new human. And of course, I also learned how to untether and re-tether spirits to objects, which became a crucial part in fostering ghosts. It’s a lot easier to gift a crystal, ring, or beanie baby than it is to convince someone to take a dresser or — in one very weird instance — a chamber pot home with them.

So… How did I branch out from ghosts to other supernatural creatures? Would you believe me if I said it all started with mushrooms?