Original Post Date to ASSD 22 Mar 2003 

Your new bride is a little spooky
by 
Kenny N Gamera

"Hello. You must be Roger." 

The older woman stood from her seat at the resturant table and held
her hand out to Roger.  He took it into his and gently shook it.  Her
fingers were thin and slightly wrinkled but dressed just as hansomly
as the rest of her.  He brought the hand to his lips and kissed it.
The skin felt soft and thin against his lips.  

The woman smiled.

"So you would like to marry my daughter?"  

"Yes, ma'am. Very much."

The woman wore her wealth very well, so that her true age was hiden by
the apparent youth of her face and body.  She wore fashions that
showed off the result of many work outs and surgeries to the best
light.  It was only when one sat across from her that her advanced
years were noticible.  Even then, Roger found her actractive.

"Do you know what you are agreeing to, Roger?"

"I think so."

"You must stay loyal to her.  Completely loyal.  No straying away from
her at all."

"That shouldn't be a problem, ma'am."

The woman looked at him.  He had seen the look before, but mostly from
his buddy when they would patrol the various night spots in what ever
town they were in at a the time.  He is sure that he himself had used
it as he studied some girl.  The woman smiled.

"I would think that a young man like you would be hard pressed to keep
away admirers."  She leaned back against her chair.  "You will find
that you will receive offers that you may find hard to refuse after
you have been in this situation for awhile.  You won't have much of
a...sex life...being married to my daughter."

"It shouldn't be an issue, ma'am."

"Roger," she leaned forward in her chair coming close to him, "I am
asking you to be absolutely loyal to a dead woman for the rest of what
may be a long life.  Can you really think you can do that?"

"As I said, ma'am, it shouldn't be an issue."

######

Roger walked into his new home for the first time.  Everything in
place just as Malory had left it when she went to the hospital.  He
dropped the duffle bag holding everything he still owned in the foyer
and limped around the condo.  He studied everything wondering about
the woman he had just married.  The woman he would never meet.

Over the fireplace was her picture.  Her arm was around a friend.  It
must have been summer, as both women wore white, loose-fitting
tee-shirts. Behind them was a tree, a large oak maybe, that spread out
in a large dark green burst.  Both had a big care-free smile on her
face.

######

He placed the flowers over the green of the lawn, just in front of the
headstone and just next to the single daisy that already lay there.

"Hi, my name is Roger Grace.  We are married.  I just moved into your
appartment today."  He sighed.  "I'm sorry to have used you like this,
but...

"No, buts...I sorry.  Where ever you are at, I hope you can forgive
me."

######

He turned out the lights around the single floor of the condo. And
walked towards the master bedroom.  Just as stepped to the treshhold,
he stopped in place.  It was a large room with a big, king-sized bed.
He stood staring at it.  

This was where she slept, he thought to himself.  

He turned around and backed tracked to the small guest room.  He lay
down on the bed and closed his eyes with a sigh.  He lay there with
thoughts that race through his head too fast to keep track of, waiting
for the start of his first nights sleep in his new wife's home.

At the crash of glass, he popped up aware of having just drifted to
sleep but unaware of how much time had passed.  He reached for the
lamp switch and turned the light on.  He threw on a robe and ran to
the living room.  The picture over the fireplace lay on the floor.

He bent to pick it up.  The glass of the frame had shattered over the
floor.  He noticed a piece missing without concern.  He placed the
picture back on the wall, before turning to get a broom.

He felt an arm wrap around his neck from behind.  A hand appeared next
to his throat, the missing glass floating in its fingers.  The hand
glowed slightly and the floor could be faintly seen through it.

"Who are you?"

Roger reacted.  He grabbed the arm near the glass and threw his body
forward.  A slight glowing form flew over his head.  It sank through
the couch and landed on the floor hard on its seat.

"I'm your husband."

Malory stood.  Her lower legs were surrounded by the couch.

"My what?!"

"Husband.  Your mom married us."

"That bitch!  That god damn bitch!  She had no fucking right!"

"No, she hadn't."

The ghost floated forward.  The soles of her bare feet hovered inches
off the floor.  She came to a halt in front of him.

"You don't have the right either, you bastard."

"I..."

The pain was sharp as the ghost brought her knee up to between his
legs.  He gasped out in shock and pain, reeling back just a little.
The ghost stood motionless for a moment.  Then she reached to his
crotch.  Her hand disappeared through the robe.

"There's...there's nothing there..."

Roger nodded his head.  "I fought in the war.  I got hit outside
Baghdag and close to where your hand is now.  Part of me is still
there."

"Oh."

"I guess I paid the pentultimate price.  So when I saw your mother's
ad...I figured that it wouldn't be too much of a strain."

"Strain?"

"To be loyal to you...that is all she wants."

"The bitch."  The ghost turned and the lamp flew against the wall from
the end table.  "I was dead and she still couldn't accept it."

"Accept what?"

"That I am a lesbian...uh?..."

"Roger."

"I'm dead and she needed to get that last bit in to pretend I was who
I am.  To make me what she wanted when I couldn't fight back."

"I'm sorry."   Roger turned to the guest room.  "I'll pack...and go."

A thin hand, unadorned but much like her mother's, took his shoulder.

"Wait."

######

They were in the kitchen.  Roger drank a cup of instant coffee that
the ghost had made him.  They sat across from each other.   Over the
course of an hour they had talked of themselves and their lost dreams.
Now the ghost looked at him.

"I am still surprised that you aren't frightened of me."

"I was a ranger.  I've faced a lot worse than the ghost of a lesbian
in my life."

"What will you do now?"

He shrugged his shoulders.  "If I leave your mother nullifies the
deal.  I have to stay here.  And I need the money."

"I thought the army..."

"It may have no use for dickless rangers, but I am not really
disabled."

"College?"

"If I was smart enough for college, I wouldn't have been trying to
make a career of the military.  I can't even get one to look at my
application."

"Oh"  The ghost paused in thought.  "Please, stay."

"What?"

"My mother is using you to get to me.  Besides..." she looked down to
the gap in his robe  "...some should do something for you."

"Thanks, but..."

"No buts, soldier...besides I will take my revenge on her."

"How's that?"

"Look."

Roger lowered his head to the gap in his robe.  His eyes grew wide.

"We have some powers in the afterlife...to bring back things to this
side."  She smiled.  "I have some lonely freinds over there.  I can
bring some over.  Mom and her detectives will never know and we will
have beat her.  Now get some sleep, Roger.  You will need it for
tommorrow."

Roger nodded his head in silence.   Slowly, the ghost that became his
wife disappeared into the air.  He got up and walked to the guest room
laying down onto the bed.  The flaps of the robe fell to the sides.
He stared down his belly for several minutes.

Finally, he took the hard glowing member into his hand and began to
stroke it.

