Trouble From the Other Side

“It was an accident! I swear!” Ivor begged. “I didn’t mean to have bookcase almost crush the Williams to death.”

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. “Sure. Just like you didn’t mean to throw that chair at the Andersons last week. Or didn’t mean to have the flacet flow in reverse when the Smiths were testing the water.” I held my face in my hands. “I’ve been trying to sell this house for two years! Can you just please give me a break for once?”

Ivor pouted as he hovered a couple of inches above the floor. “Why you trying to sell this house anyway? Huh? It’s mine! I don’t want any roommates!”

“This isn’t your house anymore!” I screamed. “You died five years ago!”

In shock, his mouth gaped open. “Oh sure! Drop the d-word! Just because I’m dead doesn’t mean my feelings are!”

I glared at his semi-transparent body. “Listen, I have another family coming in three hours.” I stuck my finger in his face--well, partly through his face that is. “Do not mess this up.”

Ivor whistled. “Wow, two familes in one day for this haunted wreck. That’s impressive.”

Grinning, I added. “Only because I’m the best damn real estate agent you’ll ever meet.”

And I’m going to sell this house. Whether Ivor and his ghost ass like it or not.

Standing in front of the mirror, I straightened the collar of my pantsuit. “Let’s do this,” I told myself as I opened the doors for the Pattersons--my five o’clock.

I stretched a huge, fake smile across my face. “Welcome!” I greeted.

Skeptically, the Pattersons crossed the threshold with their only daughter tucked tightly in between their arms. “Oh, hello,” Mrs. Patterson greeted.

She glanced around nervously. I felt my smile falter for a split second. Great, rumor must have already reached them.

“To be honest.” She clutched her daughter tighter. “We weren’t really sure if we were going to keep today’s tour because--”

“We heard this place was haunted,” Mr. Patterson finished. “But this house was so cheap compared to the others on the market…” Because it’s haunted, but go on. “So we decided to just check it out.”

“Don’t be silly! There’s no such thing are ghosts.” I said, hoping my smile was convincing enough.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ivor grinning like the idiot he was. I shot him a you-are-so-dead-if-you-do-anything look. He shot back a I-already-am look. Wise ass.

“Cookies!” The daughter exclaimed as she sniffed the air.

I clapped my hands together and ignored Ivor. “Yes!” I said. “I was just making some cookies in the kitchen. If you just follow me…”

Quickly, I lead them away from the scheming Ivor. I held out a plate of fresh baked cookies for the little girl. A pro-tip is to always bake some before a tour. The smell of fresh cookies makes it truly feel like home. Mr. and Mrs. Patterson even snagged a few for themselves. They calmed down after a few bites of sugary bless. Alright, Christie, you’ve snagged them. Now lock it down.

I ran my hand over the top of the oven and began my speel. “This kitchen is equipped with all the latest appliances. Including the 2019 model GE double oven which I used to bake these cookies. It has 6.6 cubic feet of capacity… ”

As I began to open the oven doorn to show them, a flame burst out from the back. I slammed it shut, sealed the fire inside, and blocked the door with my body before the Pattersons could notice. Ivor!

Quickly, I diverted their attention to the fridge. “But over here we have the 2018 model…”

Leading them like a flock of sheep, I took the Pattersons into the living room and eyed the bookcase by the back corner. “Don’t worry,” Ivor said as he floated through the wall to my side. “I never repeat myself. I’m original like that.”

“Did the temperature suddenly drop?” Mrs. Patterson asked as she rubbed her arms.

I clenched my teeth. Either blame a faulty thermostat or the ghost beside me. Either option makes this house less desirable.

Dammit Ivor!

Sometimes, I wish I wasn’t the only person who could see him and deal with his crap. All day. Every day.

“It’s freezing in here,” Mr. Patterson muttered. He stared in front of his face, almost crossing his eyes to look at the puff of grey air coming from his mouth. “Is that my breath? How cold is it in here?”

“I don’t feel a thing!” I lied. Well, partly lied. Underneath my pantsuit, I was wearing fleece long johns. You have to prepare for these kind of things, you know?

“Off I go!” Ivor cheered with a smirk as he floated upstairs.

A symphony of creaks soon followed his disappearance. “What’s that?!” Mrs. Patterson demanded with a look of twisted fright on her face. “I knew it! This place is haunted!”

She sprinted towards the door with her husband and daughter. I grabbed her sleeve. “Mrs. Patterson, wait! There is no such thing as ghosts!” Just as I told her that, a few books started flying off the bookcase, encircling the room as their pages flipped with wild abandon. Cockily, Ivor floated in the air in circles with them as he read the dictionary upside down. Like I won’t notice.

He was making a game of this!

Shrieking now, Mrs. Patterson yanked herself free and hustled her family out of the house and into their cramped mini van parked out front. She slammed on the accelerator as I called out. “Wait!”

But they didn’t. They never do.

And I was left alone with Ivor once again.

He drifted up beside me with a crooked grin on his face. “I think that was a new personal best.”

I picked up a book and throw it at his face in frustration. It went straight look and banged against the wall, knocking off several pictures frames with stock photos. “What’s got your long johns in a twist?” Ivor teased.

“You do!” I shouted. “I have bills to pay, you know! My rent went up by thirty percent! But you’re trashing my business!”

“I told you I don’t want anyone to move in here!”

“What does it matter? It’s not like they’ll bug you! I’m the only one who can see you, remember?”

“Exactly! You’re the only person I can talk to! If you sell the house, then you’ll leave me!”

“Keep this shit up.” I gestured to the wreck of a living room. “And I won’t even bother to sell the house before I leave,” I growled.

Without a second thought, I stormed out. Ivor was trying to tell me something, but all he got was a door to the face. He didn’t follow me. Not that he could. As a ghost, he was bound to the place he died. Sucks for him.

I retired to the local bar and spend the next five hours drowning my sorrows in beer when… “Christie Athens?” A voice called out.

As I glanced up at her, I immediately recognized her. It was Amelia Anderson who fled from that stupid house about four weeks eariler.

Annnndd, she caught me getting drunk out of my mind. How unprofessional.

“How’s it going?” I said, not really caring about how professional I came off as anymore.

“Just fine, but you?”

“I’ve seen better days.”

“Did you ever sell that haunted house?”

“Nah.”

Mrs. Anderson paused, then fiddled with something in her purse. “After my husband and I toured that house, I became convinced that we were cursed or something.”

Nah, Ivor doesn’t have that kind of power. Although, being stuck with him is beginning to feel like a curse.

“So we went to a physic.”

That seems logical, I remarked inside my head.

She handed me a business card. “I know you probably have doubts, but he’s the real deal. If you want to get rid of that ghost problem, I suggest you give him a call.” She stared awkwardly at the numerous empty mugs in front of me. “I have plans so I’ll be going now.”

I snickered at her obvious lie after she left. Staring at the card, I flipped it over a couple of times. Reading and rereading the stupid slogan and telephone number. I sighed. Was I really going to do this? And just ‘get rid of’ Ivor. I slammed the final beer down on the counter before leaving and just going home. I hiccuped and stuffed the card in my coat pocket. Then, I headed home to my freakishly overpriced apartment.

The next morning, I returned to the house with a slight hangover. Ivor stared at me silently as I entered. “You’re back,” he finally said, breaking the silence, but not the tension. “Is there anyone else coming to the house today?”

“Why, so you can figure out in advance how you’re gonna terrorize them?”

Ivor glanced at me, not making eye-contact. He looked kind of sorry for what happened yesterday, but didn’t deny him terrorizing future families. How sorry can he really be if he nevers changes his actions?

I winced and rubbed my temple. Stupid hangover. “What’s wrong?” He asked.

“Not so loud,” I urged.

“I wasn’t loud… wait, are you hungover?”

I gave him the ‘duh’ look. Ivor snapped his fingers, then disappeared into the kitchen. Slowly, I followed him. “What are you doing?” I asked as he cracked a few eggs into a glass.

He handed it to me in response. “Drink it.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s a hangover cure. I made this like a thousand times back in college.”

I stared at the glass’s grim contents. “I’m gonna pass.”

“Just drink it.”

I gulped, then downed the sick concoction. Instantly, I gagged and almost up-chucked the whole thing. “That was revolting!”

“You’ll thank me later.”

“No, I don’t think I will,” I muttered.

Ivor opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by the same of the front door opening and shutting. “Is that the next family?” He asked.

“Not exactly,” I murmured.

“Ah yes!” A voice shouted in the hallway. “I can feel its presence!”

Ivor and I both peaked past the kitchen to see a man in a knock-off red silk robe with too-thick sunglasses twirling his hands in the air. “Who is this clown?” Ivor said.

I bit my bottom lip. “A physic.”

Ivor’s mouth gaped open in shock. “You called a physic to get rid of me?” He demanded.

“You didn’t leave me a choice! My rent…”

The physic spun to face us. “Ah yes! The evil entity.”

“Evil?” Ivor remarked. “I’ll you what’s evil…”

I held my arm out to stop him. Yeah, like that’ll ever do anything.

“I can feel its presence.” He pointed at a space about a foot left of Ivor. “Right here.”

“Did this moron really call me ‘it’?” Ivor huffed. “And he couldn’t even point at me! This guy is probably a total fake. A real waste of your money. You’re always complaining about rent but you spend crap on this poser?”

“Hey!” The physic snapped, now directly addressing Ivor. “I’m blind not deaf, ghost.”

Ivor scoffed. “So what, he can hear me. Christie can too and she’s not a physic.” He turned to me. “You should get a refund.”

“Shame, I don’t give refunds. So, I guess the only thing I can give her…” He pulled a mini vacuum cleaner with a glass jar in place of a vacuum bag out of his unnecessarily flowy fake silk robe. “Is a house without a ghost.”

Ivor snickered at the pitiful machine. “Really? You think that can get of me.”

“Yes,” the physic said as he flipped the on switch.

Instantly, Ivor’s ghostly essence was trapped in a twister of swirling air as he was funneled into the glass jar. “All done. You can pay me in dollars or donuts.”

I handed him a gift card for Dunkin’ Donuts.

“Toodles!” He cheered as he began to stuff the vacuum back into his robe--Ivor included.

“Wait!” I said, uncertain. “Can you leave me the jar?”

The physic shrugged and handed it over to me before he disappeared. I fiddled with the jar in my hands, glanced at the clock, and sighed. It was a quarter past four. The Masons would be here at five o’clock to tour the house. I rubbed my finger over the bumpy rim of the lid. My eyes stared at the pile of documents for buying the house. Getting those signed could solve every problem I have.

The jar felt ice cold in my hands.

Almost every problem that is.

The next day, I set my coffee mug down on my kitchen table. Slowly, I unscrewed the jar and freed Ivor. He stretched out his back and complained. “Man do you know how cramped it was in there?”

“I can imagine. I’d been living in a tiny apartment for the past two years.”

Ivor sat down next to me. Or at least hovered above the chair in a sitting pose. “So, why’d you release me? Don’t you have other families to tour the house?”

I took a casual slip from my mug. “Nope.”

Staring at me in horror, he exclaimed. “Then you already sold it?!”

“Yup.”

“To who?!”

I slid him the signed documents. “To me.”

He looked blankly at them. “I don’t understand--what about your rent?”

I smirked. “Turns out, this place is a lot cheaper than that crummy apartment. I don’t know, I heard it was because people think it’s haunted. How crazy is that?”