Chapter 2: Why Am I Doing This?

Cyrus's eyes widened in shock. Right before him the ghost's body seemed to distort and transform and he realized with heartache who it was. It was the old man who used to live in the 502 apartment, Eddie Macca. He had always had a grumpy disposition and didn't seem to associate well with the other building tenants but Cyrus had caught him smiling as he fed and stroked stray cats near the park beside them.

He was dead? How could that be? He had just seen him three days ago before he left. Well, how else could he explain seeing him now, like this? But how did he die? And when? There was always an announcement when someone or someone's relatives died for those living in the building. That way they could gather a gift to give to the bereaved family but he did not hear any such thing with the 502 occupant. He wasn't even that sickly. Mrs. Wendell must have not known. But where did he die?

He sighed and massaged his now throbbing temple. His hours of sleep has never been regular since he got out of the hospital due to nightmares. But with what he's been doing lately in helping the dead and coupled with his work he feared another trip to the hospital. His level of fatigue was so high he felt as if he could sleep for an entire month. That was pretty much an exaggeration but still, Cyrus couldn't help but wish it was possible. He wanted one day to rest, just one. Now, that wasn't an option. He'd have to bring this old man peace to have his own. Plus he felt obligated to lend a hand since Mr. Macca was a fellow neighbor.

A week after he had been released from hospital Cyrus began seeing weird shadows out of the corners of his eyes. This then materialized into ghostly figures as the days went on. At first he thought he had somehow damaged his brain in the car accident and was suffering from hallucinations or even illusions. When that explanation was shut down by Dr. Daniels, Cyrus chalked it up to his brain still being confused with being thrown back to reality.

Whatever explanations he tried to come up with began dissolving little by little as he started to realize the truth. He could see ghosts and unfortunately for him, they could see him too. They come to him begging, pleading for him to do their bidding. Whether it was to reassure their loved ones, or find out what happened to them, how they met their untimely demise, restore missing jewelry or money or just looking for someone to talk to. Cyrus was the one they sought out.

Being the person that he is Cyrus didn't have the heart to turn any of them away. Even if they were no longer living, he didn't like seeing them sad and disappointed. Their souls were lost and unfulfilled, craving to be satisfied and wandering around till someone came and helped them move on. And that someone was him. He didn't ask to have that ability but he couldn't help but believe it was bestowed upon him for a reason.

Okay!

"What is it that you want me to do for you, Mr. Macca?" he asked his earlier resolve at giving up helping slipping away. The old man stared at Cyrus, at times he leaned his head to the side and then to the other. No words were exchanged but Cyrus could understand them without them talking aloud. It was a shock at first for him because he could hear them in his head. However, this he preferred most of the time because some more than others had unnerving mouths.

"So you want me to take it to your family. It's in the pocket of your favorite yellow jacket. The one that your wife gave you. Okay. Yes. I'll tell them that as well, don't worry."

Cyrus grabbed a sweater and pulled it on. He also reached for his raincoat and took the set of keys that hung on the wall. As the building's caretaker he had all the original keys to all of the apartments. It came in handy during emergencies and performing his otherworldly duties.

He walked down to apartment 502 and opened it. Cyrus stepped inside with the old man following behind him. He ignored the goosebumps that formed on his skin and looked around. The apartment was still in a state of disarray but the eeriness of the room had disappeared. "Where is the jacket?" he asked the old man.

"Behind the sofa?" He jumped nimbly over the pile of clothes and moved behind the small brown leathered sofa. There just peeking out from underneath was the jacket. He stooped down and pulled it out.

"What? A gift on your thirtieth anniversary? That was so nice of your wife. You must have really loved each other." As Cyrus spoke his hand rummaged around the pockets. His hand felt a paper like surface and he pulled it out studying it. It was a check.

"Where are they now?" he asked looking up. He nodded his head and walked out.

*****

The street light dangled on its post and made creaky creepy sounds as it swung itself to and fro. Cyrus stood under the light, watching, waiting for a right moment. But with what he did there was never really a right time. People always had a hard time believing their relatives still stuck around with them and that was reasonable because most people do not believe things they cannot see. He had his fair share of being called a lunatic and crazy. It had hurt the first time around when even he had little understanding of it all but he was beginning to grow unfazed by those passing insults.

It was raining heavily and as he walked across the rows of open houses, the flowers and bushes planted near it shook and fluttered wildly as he passed. The place was where families came to mourn for their deceased just before burial. He looked to the far right side and spotted the old man hovering near to the room there and made his way to it quickly. Cyrus peeked inside and saw a man and two women crying.

He never liked doing this but it wasn't as if he had a choice. They would only leave him if he did what they wanted. Besides, it was as if they knew Cyrus had a soft heart and would always concede to their pleas when they persisted and spoke about how miserable they were.

"Excuse me," he spoke loudly. The crying came to a sudden halt as the inhabitants of the room turned towards him, expressions in various stages of confusion. They all leaned back in fear as they saw the zombie like looking man before them. Cyrus's hair was drenched and clung to his face and his huge raincoat made him pale and gaunt looking, like a ghost.

The man who was pushed forward by the two women crept unwillingly towards Cyrus, giving him a wary look.

"Mr. Macca wanted me to give you this," he reached into his pocket and took out the cheque, handing it over. The man cautiously took it out of Cyrus's hand, his eyes suspicious.

"My father in-law?" he asked as he looked it over. Cyrus pushed a tuff of hair from his face and nodded grimly.

The man gasped in surprise as he skimmed over the contents of the check. It was made out to five hundred thousand.

"He wants you to use it to help with the funeral and the rest to pay off all the debts you have." Cyrus added feeling uncomfortable at the man's greedy gaze.

"Oh, father," the man cried in a shaky emotional voice as he stared at the piece of paper in his hand.

"He also wanted me to tell you something," Cyrus stated, his tone firm and determined as his eyes flashed.

The man now crying more in relief rather than grief replied in a whispery emotional voice, "Yes. Please do go on," he said clasping the check to his chest as if it was the most precious thing in the world.

Cyrus stepped forward gave him a hard slap and grabbed roughly him by the collars. "You stupid son of a bitch. If I ever catch you leaving my daughter to go gambling again I will come back and chop off your legs. No more gambling, you bastard." Cyrus roared and with that he let go of his shirt and retreated back out of the illumination of the light like nothing happened.

"That was what he wanted me to tell you," he told the people who were now staring at him in shock before he spun around.

As he walked away he could hear them yelling and arguing about the check. Gone was the crying and wailing now the fight for the check ensued. They had quickly forgotten about the reason they were there, nor did they even acknowledge what they had just been given and who gave it to them. They were now fighting over something which held little to no value in Cyrus's eyes. He had never understood. At first doing this job had been rewarding when he had found people who had taken true comfort at what he told them. However, it became increasingly clear that most of the family he went to had little care for the family member that had passed on. All that they cared about was what the dead had left behind. It was disconcerting to know that a lot of people were selfish beings who lacked all sense of compassion even to their kin.

"Are you sure that was the right thing to do," Cyrus asked dejectedly, looking upward at the floating man who stared longingly at his family. He nodded. Before Cyrus's eyes the man's body changed as color came into his cheeks, his eyes no longer look sallow and his form became young and healthy looking, with a smile he vanished. There was nothing else holding him back to this world, he was satisfied and so was Cyrus albeit a little bit.

Despite feeling weary, Cyrus smiled and walked, the rain still falling heavily around him.

*****

A blind man could have felt the tension that was evident in the small home which occupied three women. The younger of the two had a fixed vacant look on her face. It was her usual expression and she wore it often without wavering. She was the one with more power in the room and she would be damned if she didn't get what she came for. Her name was Celena Jay Black, but for the past five years she had discarded her first name and didn't let anyone else utter it. Only her father was bold enough to call her Celena and even that didn't happen often.

The slightly older woman by Jay's side, her personal assistant, Lana Finn stood with a rigid posture her back straight, her blonde hair tucked neatly into a bun and her hand folded in front of her. Her eyes were cautiously taking in their surroundings, sensing for imminent signs of danger. Although the only thing she could identify was distress from the woman opposite them and though she felt nothing but sadness for her, she couldn't do anything to prevent what was bound to happen. Her loyalty to her young mistress was more important to her than her own life and she would follow her to death if she could.

"So, you're telling me that the spirit of a ghost is in this house?" Jay asked calmly twirling the ring on her finger. Her voice though soft and low still rang loud in the quiet place.

The other woman startled before nodding determinedly. "That's right. The spirit of my dead son still lives in this house," she said gesturing around the small and homely living room as if to make her point. "I have thought about selling this house for the sake of my brother. However, my son doesn't want that," she said with a sense of finality to her voice.

"So you're insisting on staying here in the middle of where my mall is going to be built because…your son doesn't want you to leave?" Jay questioned and glanced outside briefly. She turned back her eyes gleaming. "Okay. Why don't we negotiate?"

The woman sighed at the stubborn younger woman. "You don't understand do you? My son is dead. His memories are etched into every nook and cranny of this house. So how can you expect me to force him out of his own home?" She said stubbornly with a shake of her head.

Lana bit her lip. She felt pity for the poor woman. She knew there wasn't any chance that Jay would let this go. She was too driven, too ambitious and too unwilling to let anything get in the way of what she wanted. And what she wanted now was that piece of land they were sitting on.

"You mean a dead person…is still here?" Jay inquired in a flat tone. "Fine then, we can negotiate together. What is he saying to you now?"

The woman pointed at a potted plant which held a single red rose. "Take a look at that rose and you'll understand." Jay and Lana both turned and looked at it. One with a look of curiosity and the other boredom.

After a slight pause she spoke again. "My son treasured that flower. He grew it himself." She said with a wistful expression before her face contorted in pain at the memory.

With a pensive look, Jay turned and studied the flower through narrowed eyes. Her mind calculating how to turn the situation to her advantage.

"When I was contemplating on whether to sell this house, the flower started wilting and nearly died. But when I made up my mind to not sell the house it came alive and bloomed. I've never thought it was a coincident."

"Do you mean to say that your son used this flower" Jay pointed, "to tell you how he felt about your decision? Is that what you're telling me?" Her voice was flat but Lana could detect a hint of mockery.

"That is true," the woman said with conviction that Jay almost believed her. Almost. It gave her the perfect opportunity she was waiting for and she leaped at it like a fish to bait.

Jay banged her fist on the table, startling both the woman and Lana. "In that case, I can also negotiate with your son using that flower."

Before the woman could reply she had scrambled up and stood next to the flower, studying it. Photos surrounded the small pot and Jay skimmed over it. She could see pictures of the woman and a smiling young man. This must the son.

Next to the pot lay pruning tools and a secateur. Jay grabbed it and tested it in her hands.

"Flower boy, listen very carefully and tell me what you think of what I'm proposing. I'm trying to build a new mall here. Your mother doesn't want to sell the house but I still want to buy it. Are you saying you won't sell also? If so, nod yes with the flower head," she said to the picture of the man. "Otherwise…I'll cut it off," she whispered softly. "Think about it, your mother will be able to live comfortably for the rest of her life. If you're as good a son as she says you won't let you mom live in this state of poverty. You're already dead. Why do you still want to bother the living?"

Lana swallowed and looked down her cheeks burning. Sometimes she felt embarrassed at how her miss behaved with other people. She wasn't really one of those sensitive types and many a times she wasn't aware of what she makes people feel because of her practical mind and straightforwardness.

"What do you think you're doing?" the woman cried as she stepped forward, her expression strained.

Jay held out a hand, stopping the woman in her steps. "Please, I'm trying to negotiate with your son right now. She positioned the secateur on the stem. "I'll give you to the count of three to show me your decision. One. Two." As Jay counted, the picture of the man she was staring at seemed to change, and he was no longer smiling. Jay half-shook her head chalking it up as a trick of the light. "Three." Snip. The rose head fell to the ground and a sudden gust of wind blew past Jay causing her to shiver inwardly.

"Are you crazy?" the woman yelled as she rushed forward to the sheared rose. She lifted it gently, her expression twisted in pain.

"You're the one who's crazy," Jay retorted her tone frosty as the tool fell from her hand. She dusted her hands and moved forward, her impressive size made her tower over the woman. "You made a deal with me, a living person and now you try to break it by dragging in a person who is already dead. Don't you feel any sense of shame at all?"

Jay turned to Lana, who handed her the contract. "I've already got the opinion of your dead son, so why don't you follow the wish of your brother, who is still alive? Sign the papers," Jay said coldly.

The woman's fist shook, her eyes misted with unshed tears. She had failed and her resolve wavered. Her son was gonna be lost forever. A few minutes passed by as she gathered herself.

After she had given her signature, Jay walked out and Lana followed close behind her.

"You're a heartless and arrogant woman. No matter what you may think, my son still lives in this house!" the woman declared as she followed them outside.

"No, he doesn't," Jay stated, feeling a bit annoyed at the woman's insistence. She pulled her coat closer as she stared at the woman. "I don't mean to sound condescending but you need to go and get yourself examined at an institution. All this claims of yours are unfounded and abnormal."

"If you keep ignoring a person's feelings and take it as a joke just because you can't see them with the naked eye, God is going to punish you," she seethed. She seemed to have aged ten years right before Lana's eyes.

Jay sneered. "I will continue living as a sane and successful person like I currently do while ignoring the things that I cannot see. If what I say is wrong, then let God strike me down." Jay pushed Lana's hands away which had grabbed onto her in concern. She stretched out her hands, closed her eyes and turned towards the rumbling sky in waiting.

Lana wrung her hands in worry as she watched the scene. To her relief, nothing happened.

"It seems that I'm not going to get struck down by God today. However, you and your family have just been struck by a load of money. I offer you my congratulations." Jay said with a flourishing wave of her hand and then turned and stalked towards the car, with Lana on her heels. Her face was still devoid of any expression and she was much too focused on her thoughts to see the pale young man watching her from behind the large oak tree. His eyes narrowed at her back and with the crackle of thunder he disappeared.

Lana opened the car door and Jay slid in. As Lana got in to the driver's seat the first drop of rain fell onto the car. She glanced at Jay and saw her shiver as she looked out at the pouring rain. She may act brave and fearless all the time but Jay was still traumatized. No matter how the years have passed, that day still haunted her.

Lana shook the thoughts from her head and got in the driver's seat. As the car roared to life she took one last look towards the cottage before pulling out of the driveway. They drove on in silence. The only sound was of the rain splattering against the car surface.

Tok! Tok! Tok!

"Don't you think you were a bit harsh with that lady, Jay?" Lana gently prodded.

"Do you know that saying?" Jay mused, stroking a thumb along her lips as she leaned back into her seat. "You have to be cruel to be kind. That is what I am doing. I am helping her come to terms with the fact that her son has moved on in life and she needs to move on too."

Mulling over her words Lana couldn't help but understand where she was coming from. "Are you really not afraid…of ghosts?" she asked Jay from the rearview mirror.

It took a while before the answer came. "Why should I be afraid of something that is already dead?" Jay answered as she looked out the side window, studying the rain as it fell and the fog descending among the darkness. "It's the people who are living that are scary," she muttered in a whisper.

With a thoughtful look, Lana nodded her head respectfully.

"Once the contract is finalized I want to have a look through it again. Can you give me what you've recorded?" Jay spoke breaking the atmosphere.

"Oh yes," Lana rummaged through the dashboard and brought out the recorder with its earpiece. "Everything is recorded, and I've saved it on file number seven."

Grabbing the recorder, Jay plugged in the earpiece and listened. "Empire Mall Site Contract. Seller; Michelle King agrees to sell her land. Buyer; Empire agrees to buy." Jay quickly leafed through the papers, making sure everything was in order.

As they drove through the deserted road, a lone figure stood a fair distance away along the road they were travelling.

Lana narrowed her eyes as she leaned forward in her seat. "What is that? Is that a person?"

Jay looked up and saw the person holding out their hand before turning back to her papers. It was a hitchhiker.

"I believe he's trying to flag us down. Why's he in the middle of nowhere? Should I stop the car?"

"No. Just ignore it and keep going," Jay told Lana without looking up.

Lana felt sorry for the poor person as they passed him and she kept looking back through the side mirror. As they made it to a few meters, a sudden burst of light had her ramming her foot on the breaks. Jay got thrown forward against the front seat but luckily she had put her arm up which took the brunt of the force. "What happened?" she asked massaging her arm as she glanced down at the scattered papers.

"There…there was a sudden flash of light," Lana pointed out, starting to feel spooked by the strange happenings. "Was it just lightning?"

Jay rolled her eyes and turned her head to the side. A figure now stood next to the passenger door and as she saw it Jay jumped back with a small cry of surprise. "Oh my goodness."

The door opened and the cold air made Jay shiver in response.

"What the heck?" Jay exclaimed as the person, a man got into the car.

"Thank you for stopping," he said with a bow of his head as he made himself comfortable.

Jay regarded the man through narrowed eyes. "We didn't stop for you," she growled as she picked up the papers.

She quickly put some distance between her and the stranger by shuffling onto the side as she and Lana both turned to look at the intruder. He brushed away the water from his hood, pushing it down. "I really thought that you didn't see me, and was going to just drive past. But I guess that you did see me, thank God," he said taking off his black raincoat. His voice was low and deep and Jay would have loved hearing it if it wasn't for the fact that this stranger invaded her space.

Both Lana and Jay just stared, Jay with more animosity. "What would you have me do?" Lana asked discreetly gesturing to their unwanted passenger.

Jay turned to study the man beside her, who in turn smiled shyly back. As a response she grabbed the armrest and pulled it down separating them. "Just go," she told Lana.

"Okay."

***

"So, what were you doing out in this weather and on this road particularly?" Lana asked, trying to break the awkward silence that had descended as he got into the car. "It's a bit deserted don't you think?"

"Someone told me to stand there. They said a car would come by if I waited in that spot," he replied mysteriously.

"That man got that on the mark like a ghost," Lana said jokingly.

"Yep, he was really ghost like," he responded in an eerie tone.

After a small pause he spoke again, much to Jay's annoyance. "By any chance...are you heading to Braden?"

"Yes," Lana replied just as Jay said, "No."

"Drop him off somewhere nearby," Jay informed Lana.

"Yes," Lana responded with an apologetic look at the man.

Jay went back to leafing through the contract.

"Empire. Do you work at Empire Mall?" the man inquired, leaning over the armrest and pointing to the papers. Jay wrenched the papers out of his reach, her hand brushing against his. The man was as annoying as a fly! The contact sent a sliver of shock up her hand.

"Oh! Did you feel it too?" The man gasped at the contact as if he'd been electrocuted.

Jay gave him a tight smile, a simple baring of her teeth and replied. "No." She rubbed her hand discreetly out of his line of sight and frowned.

He however, was unwilling to let it pass. "But I'm pretty sure I felt something just now. It wasn't the same for you?" He asked again still convinced that their contact sparked something.

"No," Jay spoke firmly, her face showing her annoyance.

Finally getting the message, the man sat back silently feeling awkward.

Just as Jay was sure he wouldn't talk again, he opened his mouth.

"Um, by any chance...does Empire own that really large mall in the city? You see, I live very close to that mall and if you're heading there, could you maybe drop me-"

"There's a corner up ahead. Why don't you get off there?" Despite her words, it wasn't a request.

He smiled and nodded. "Ok, thank you."