A Ghost Story [FICTOID]

“Drape your coat over the grizzly bear,” said Madame Lazania, pointing to the large stuffed animal.

Her spiritualism parlor looked like an antique flea market.  As Ted put their coats on the animal’s forearms, Shirley asked,” Are you sure -- “

“Cash up front!” said Madame Lazania, snapping her fingers and holding her palm out.

Shirley made a wry face and laid a fifty in her hand.  Madame Lazania sniffed it and, satisfied it was real, stuffed it down the front of her ample peasant blouse.

“Hokay, whaddya want?”

“Well, we saw on your blog that you can contact the dead,” said Shirley, “and with our aunt gone and our fortune at an end, we thought we’d find out if she’d tell us where she hid her -- our -- money.”

“Hokay, bullshit answer, but it’ll do,” said Madame Lazania.  “Let’s get this over with.

“Oooh, spirits of the netherworld, shades in the realm invisible, yadda yadda yadda, blah-blah-blah, manifest yourselves, you useless scumsuckers!”

Instantly Madame Lazania rolled her eyes back and jerked spasmodically as if the warden just threw the switch.

“Shirley? Ted?  Why are you interrupting my tango lesson?”

“Auntie, is that you?”

“Of course it’s me!  Who the fuck did you think it would be?”

“Yeah, that sounds like her,” Ted muttered under is breath.

“Auntie, we need to know where you hid our money -- “

“My money,” the ghost almost shrieked through Madame Lazania’s lips.  “I diversified -- put it in missile factories and eco-friendly toy balloons and glitter bird cages.

“And you know what?  It’s gone!  Now beat it!”

Madame Lazania blinked twice then scuffed her head against the back of her chair as if working a kink out of her neck.  “Hokay, kids, got the answer you were looking for?”

“Actually, no.”

“Tough, but as the sign out front says:  No refunds!”

© Buzz Dixon