“You know, when my friend Pam first brought me here, she tried to make me laugh because I was so nervous,” Charlotte said, trying her best to comfort Virginia. “She said, look on the bright side, you don’t have to shave anymore.”
Virginia thought that was kinda funny but then realized she’d never shaved before, and now, she never would. Charlotte was trying so hard that Virginia cracked a little smile for her sake. As they walked down the corridor to the main lobby, Virginia was anxious to change the subject, and saw something that would do just the trick.
“Isn’t that you?” Virginia asked, pointing to the Hawthorne Wall of Fame showcase.
“It was,” Charlotte said peacefully.
Charlotte stopped for a second, studying her yearbook photo and her obituary, which sat in the center of sports, debate team, Mathlete trophies, and year after year of class and alumni photos, just as Scarlet had told her. Under her headshot it read “Her memory will live in these halls forever.”
It had been a long time since she’d seen herself, living or dead, and she thought about how young she looked, even though she’d never look any different. She was grouped with the Noted Alumni, which made her feel proud, even though it might have all been some kind of joke. She couldn’t be sure, but it didn’t matter to her anymore. She had been remembered after all, and fondly too. The newspaper would yellow soon, she thought, and the photo would fade, but then, so would everybody else’s. She’d been here, been alive, for a while. That was enough for her now.
“Looks like you made quite an impression. Were you a cheerleader or something?” Virginia asked.
“Not exactly,” Charlotte said before she paused and changed the subject. “Virginia, some lives are long, some are short, but they’re all important and they all must come to an end. This is forever. It’s taken me a long time to figure that out.”
Virginia wrapped her small hands around Charlotte’s neck, squeezing her tightly, and Charlotte knew that she had made an impression too.
“Hey, you have a pretty good grip. Where were you when I was choking on that gummy bear?”
Before Virginia could ask what she was talking about, they both noticed the projector light flooding the hallway from the Dead Ed class at the end of the hallway.
“This is it,” Virginia said nervously, grasping Charlotte’s hand tightly.
“That’s it,” Charlotte confirmed, remembering having said the very same thing to herself.
Charlotte walked her, hand in hand, to the doorway, and turned the knob. She peeked in at the darkened classroom, heard the whirr of the projector spindle turning, and saw the silhouettes of the classmates, sitting and waiting. She felt like it was either just yesterday or ages ago that she’d been there.
Charlotte gestured for the girl to enter and Virginia walked in — alone. As the door closed, Charlotte heard the words that let her know Virginia would be okay.
“Welcome, Virginia. We’ve been expecting you.”
Epilogue
This Must Be the Place
I’ve been to paradise, but I’ve never been to me
—Charlene
We all want to get to a better place.
Whether it’s getting to a better place in our physical lives: breaking off a damaging relationship or starting a new one, or spiritually finding a better place, a sort of plane to exist on, or the Big Mama of them all—Heaven. Charlotte spent her whole Life, and Afterlife, trying to get to a better place until she finally realized that there wasn’t a place to get to—that the better place was actually inside of her the whole time. She was changed now and what she was becoming definitely outweighed what she’d lost.
Whatever personal growth Charlotte had experienced on her journey back to Hawthorne, she was still feeling lonely as she trudged uphill through the woods. She was confident that she’d put Damen and Petula, and the dreams of her childhood, behind her for good, but she still felt that same emptiness inside. Maybe it was just her fear of facing Markov that was bugging her. She still had a lot to explain after all. She’d put lives at risk. Lying, leaving the compound, missing work. All of it. Things might have turned out very badly. She could only hope that Pam and Prue had paved the way for her, at least a little.
She gave herself some credit for her accomplishments too, however, which was very unlike her. Everyone was where they belonged now. She had gotten rid of Maddy, and by helping Scarlet help Petula, she’d connected Virginia with her Dead Ed class. It would just be a matter of time before they crossed over. Given all the work she’d done, maybe she could explain to Markov that she was away on a business trip. But if she had to pay, then so be it.
“Nice to have you back,” Mr. Markov said, nodding as Charlotte passed him on the way back to her desk.
“Nice to be back.”
It was business as usual, except that Maddy was gone. Her phone had been disconnected, the cord wrapped around it several times for good measure.
Everyone looked busy, and Charlotte walked by glumly with her head down, not ready to look anyone in the eye just yet. When she arrived at her desk, she noticed that Pam and Prue were not taking calls. They were packing.
She was petrified that she was about to be left behind again, the price she had paid for blowing her second chance.
“Usher!” a familiar voice called out. “I want to see you in my office!”
She gathered herself, cleared her throat, and walked slowly toward Markov’s office — the source of the Voice.
When she’d finally mustered up the courage, she entered to find a male figure standing next to the window, his back to her. As he turned around, she recognized his face.
“Mr. Brain!”
“Charlotte,” Mr. Brain said warmly, just as happy to see her.
“Where have you been? Why are you here?”
“I’ve been right there,” he said sternly, pointing to the tiny camera that had been hovering over Charlotte in the call center.
“I don’t understand.”
“I’ve been watching you the whole time.”
Charlotte bowed her head, humiliated. After all she’d said and done, to know that Brain was watching the whole time was too embarrassing to contemplate.
“You were tested,” Brain acknowledged, “but you didn’t fail.”
“I didn’t?” Charlotte wondered, totally confused. “But I was so tempted. I almost …”
“Remember we once discussed that good or bad outcomes are the result of choices, of actions, not intentions.”
“Who did I help with my choices?” Charlotte asked dejectedly. “I didn’t even get one lousy phone call.”
“Scarlet was your call. She was the one who needed you the most.”
“But she almost lost everything because of me. Her sister, her boyfriend, even her life.”
“On the contrary, you gave all those things back to her.”
“But, I never listened,” Charlotte said, making the case against herself. “I did what I wanted, not what I was told to do, what everyone thought I should do.”
“Exactly,” Brain replied.
“I didn’t do what you told me to do,” Charlotte emphasized sheepishly.
“You did what your heart told you to do,” Brain complimented. “It is what leaders, not followers, do.”
Charlotte still couldn’t fully process where Brain was going. It sounded like the Afterlife would be one big psychotherapy session. She was beginning to feel like she needed a mental health day.
“Was the whole point of crossing over just to help others?” Charlotte probed Mr. Brain, frustrated. “What about me?”
“Sometimes a good deed really is its own reward, Charlotte. Sometimes that is all there is. “
“Whoever called this the final reward must have been on something,” Charlotte joked.
“I said sometimes, Charlotte. Not always.”
Charlotte wasn’t really listening any longer. She started toward Brain, to hug him, thank him for not punishing her, and promise that nothing like that would ever happen again.
As she approached him, Mr. Brain motioned for Charlotte to head to the back office.
“Charlotte, you’ve taken care of everyone else. Now it’s time to take care of you.”
Charlotte entered the office and saw a couple sitting down.
“They have been waiting to see you for quite a while,” Mr. Brain said. “Over fifteen years, to be exact.”
“Hello, Angel,” the woman said in a hauntingly familiar voice.
The couple stood up expectantly, and Charlotte ran to them. They hugged as if they were trying to squeeze into a single being.
Charlotte’s heart, a heart that had been searching for love for so long, came to life. She realized that she had been homesick for a place she never knew, until now.
“Charlotte,” Brain began, “this is your mother and father.”
“I know,” Charlotte replied.
The end?
Acknowledgments
Thank you to my mother, Beverly, for all of your love and encouragement, and to Oscar Martin, my little blessing.
Special thanks to my fairy godmother, editor extraordinaire Nancy Conescu, for waving your wand and making all of this real.
My heartfelt gratitude for all of those who helped bring ghostgirl to life: Craig Phillips, Megan Tingley, Lawrence Mattis, Andy McNicol, Alison Impey, Vincent Martin, Deborah Bilitski, Mary Nemchik, Tom Hurley, Andrea Spooner, Christine Cuccio, Amy Verardo, Andrew Smith, Tina McIntyre, Lisa Sabater, Lisa Ickowicz, Jonathan Lopes, Melanie Chang, Shawn Foster, Lauren Nemchik, Mary Pagnotta, and Chris Murphy.
ghostgirl author Tonya Hurley’s credits span all platforms of teen entertainment, including: creating, writing, and producing two hit TV series, writing and directing several acclaimed independent films, developing a groundbreaking collection of video games and board games, and creating and providing content for award-winning Web sites. Ms. Hurley lives in New York with her husband and daughter.