Page 44 of Dead End

Clasping her hands in front of her, Nana Pratt gazed at me.

“Something else on your mind?” I asked.

“I don’t envy you, Lorelei.”

I had no idea where this was going. “Thank you?”

“When I was alive, there was no expectation of greatness from me. There were minor expectations, the kind that women of my generation had to contend with like cooking and cleaning, but I didn’t feel compelled to offer more of myself than I could safely give.”

“I can safely give,” I insisted.

She pinned me with a hard look. “Can you?”

I flinched under the weight of her stare.

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you’re obligated. You will still be loved, Lorelei, whatever action you choose to take.”

“Even if this situation is my fault?”

“How is any of this your fault? That fact that you exist? You didn’t choose to be a natural born goddess, dear. This situation is the result of actions taken long before you were a twinkle in your mother’s eye.”

“But with great power…”

She cut me off with full-blown raspberry. “Nonsense. The only responsibility you have in terms of your power is to do no harm. There is no rule that says you have to stick your neck out for people every time there’s a crisis. Superman is a fictional character.”

“Actually, the quote is from Spider-Man.”

“I don’t care if it’s from the Bible.” Gasping, she reached for her imaginary string of pearls. “Goodness me. That’s not true at all. I would care very much.” She cast her eyes skyward, as though expecting immediate retribution for her off-the-cuff remark. “My point is you have every right to beyourself, no more and no less. Of course it would help if you figure out exactly who that is first.”

I looked at her askance. “I know who I am.” How could I not at this point?

“If you say so, dear.”

Ray materialized beside me. “We have a problem.”

“Unas?”

“Didn’t get that far. The internet isn’t working again.”

“I bet if people stopped paying every time they lost service, the company would find a way to resolve the issue.”

“Good luck with that particular revolution,” Ray said.

I mulled over the options. “Would you rather work in the library or the used bookstore?”

Ray’s brown eyes glimmered with hope. “Really?”

“In the name of research, yes.” The ghosts were tethered to the Castle grounds unless I commanded them to go elsewhere.

“I would send him to Jessie Talbot’s,” Nana Pratt said. “She’s got to be teetering on the edge of death by now. She’ll be more inclined to accept the presence of a ghost paging through her books.”

Ray snapped back. “Ingrid.”

“What? The woman was old when I was still alive.”

“Nana Pratt makes a good point,” I interjected. “Besides, Hailey has a hard enough time dealing with the living. I don’t think she’d handle a ghost patron with the finesse required.”

Ray expressed his delight with a giddy jig.

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