The evening had become blustery. Dark clouds scudded past the full moon. Agnes was surprised that she wasn’t colder, but she did have her sweater with the pumpkin on it. She sauntered to the bench she usually sat on with her dog, her anger already fizzled out. She was left feeling puzzled. Why was her husband acting like this? Maybe his back was hurting again. Maybe he should see his doctor tomorrow. She sighed and buried her face in her hands, resting her elbows on her knees.
She didn’t know what made her look up. She hadn’t heard anything, but felt she wasn’t alone. A man sat on the bench with her! She stifled a shriek and started to jump up when the man said, “I won’t hurt you, Agnes. I’m here to help you.”
“How do you know my name?”
“Oh, my dear, I know many things about you. I know you’re having trouble at home.”
“Huh! Anyone could figure that out. Why would I be sitting alone in the park?”
“Good point, my dear. But you didn’t bring Gisella, now, did you?”
“How could you know that?” She narrowed her eyes. “Are you stalking me?” She looked him over, so she could give a good description to the police. He was about medium size--five ten at the most. Longish white hair tied in a ponytail, unusual for an older man. And the clothes! At what church basement rummage sale did he find them? Pants like that went out of style with powdered wigs. Wait a minute--was that a powdered wig on his head?
Suddenly Agnes laughed out loud! How could she be so stupid? The man was in a Halloween costume! He probably was on his way to a party. The man gave her an odd look.
“My dear madam, what is wrong?”
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I was taken by surprise with your costume. And I hope you win first prize.”
“I haven’t the least idea of what you’re talking about. But no matter. I’m here to be assistance to you. ”
“How can you help me? You don’t know me.”
“I know quite a bit about you. I know you have a husband, Frank, who doesn’t seem as attentive anymore. I know you bring Gisella, the dog, here to the park.”
“You could’ve overheard me.”
“In addition, I know you have a sister Mabel who hasn’t been herself, and you’re wondering why. That’s why I’m here.”
“What’s your name, sir?”
“Everyone calls me McGee.”
“Okay, Mr. McGee, what is it that you plan to do for me?”
“I plan to help you discover some things about yourself. And it’s just McGee. You don’t have to call me Mister. Just McGee.”
“Okay, McGee. That’s better than calling you the Guy in Funny Clothes. So tell me, McGee, what do you plan to do for me?”
“As I said, I came to help you understand a few things about yourself. Take a deep breath.”
Agnes did as she was told, with pleasure. She loved the pungent scent of fall, the leafy autumnal perfume. Strangely, the air wasn’t as fragrant as it had been in past years.
“Tell me what you smell, Madam.”
“Well, not too much. I probably have a sinus infection again.” She tapped on her forehead and below her eyes but failed to produce the achy sinus pressure she knew so well. “It must not be bad yet. I’ll call the doctor in the morning.”
“I’m afraid it won’t do you much good.”
“You’re right,” she said. “He probably won’t prescribe an antibiotic unless I have symptoms. I’ll have to wait.”
“Waiting won’t make any difference, either. How is your appetite lately?”
She mulled over this one. “Not too good. Frank has been cooking lately--I don’t know why. But food doesn’t taste right. I’m probably too upset with him to eat.”
“Now let’s think about this: Nobody can see you. Food has lost its appeal. You can’t smell this wonderfully scented air. Can you guess why?”
She sat beside him, staring at the moon. “No, can’t say I do. Suppose you tell me.”
“Should I be blunt?”
“Please do,” she sighed. “I’m getting tired of this guessing game.”
“This is your Halloween surprise. I’m a ghost. I died in 1785, right after your Revolutionary War. And as for you--you’re a ghost, too!”
Agnes leaped off of the bench. “I am not! What do you mean by that?”
“It’s true. Dead as a door nail. Dead as the Dead Sea. Do you remember the day you were climbing down out of the attic with your Halloween decorations? You slipped and fell, didn’t you?”
“I remember…hitting my head. But I didn’t think I was hurt.”
“You weren’t hurt, silly goose. You died. You had bleeding into your head and never woke up. You never felt any pain.”
She sat back down beside McGee. “Dead. Now what do I do?”
“I’m here to take you into the light, as you’ve heard others speak of. But there’s no reason we couldn’t have a little fun first.”
“What do you mean?”
He smiled and took her arm, pulling her from the bench. “We can visit your husband. Put him in the Halloween spirit.”
“You mean haunt him?” she asked, surprised.
“I prefer to say, we send him greetings from the other side.”
She grinned as they walked away. “I was hoping for a little Halloween surprise--and this is really Something!”