Free Once Upon Another Time by Rosary McQuestion

love--like on those paranormal reality TV shows.”
    Laura gave me a
deadpan stare.
    Anyway,” I said
shifting my weight.  “I happened to be thinking about spirits crossing over
into the world of the living and wanted to know your thoughts on the subject? 
I mean, anything’s possible, right?”
    I couldn’t decide
if pity was what I saw in Laura’s eyes, or if she was just deep in thought
trying to figure out a way to sneak off and phone my therapist.  Perhaps my
timing still wasn’t right.  However, would there really have been a right time?
    “Aubrey?  You know
most of that stuff on TV isn’t real, it’s just entertainment.”
    “I know, but this
is about Matt.”
    She leaned forward
and placed her palms flat on the desk.  “Uh-huh.  Well, he’s dead.”  She
whispered this as if she was afraid of waking Matt up out of the grave. 
    “Yeah but look at
all the people who say they have seen ghosts.  They can’t all be crazy. 
Besides, there are research books and documentaries that prove ghosts do exist.” 
    “There’s no
scientific proof,” said Laura.
    “There’s no
scientific proof that heaven and hell exist either, but you and I and just
about the entire world believe they do--right?”
    Laura shook her
head, looking like she was bored with the conversation.
    “Think back to our
quantum physics class.  Remember Einstein's Theory of Relativity.  It
postulates an infinite number of alternate realities and many other things that
most people don't believe in either.  But the scientific community accepts them,
largely in part because many elements of his theory have been proven to
be correct by scientific experiments.  One of his famous quotes was, ‘Energy
cannot be created or destroyed, it can only be changed from one form to
another.’  So even after a person dies, technically, they still live on.  Matt
really believed in that theory.” 
    “So, what are you
saying?”
    “I’m saying that
if physics tells us that energy never dies, then the soul or spirit never dies,
which means maybe people live on in a different form.  Like ghosts.”
     “Sorry, I just
don’t see the point to all this,” she said wanly. 
    I stood and paced
back and forth in front of the window feeling frustrated and not at all
qualified in claiming people can come back from the dead in an altered state. 
I stopped and looked down at the streets below.  The train of cars jammed up at
Kennedy Plaza seemed reminiscent of the congestion in my mind as I wondered how
I was going to explain Matt being in this living and breathing world of ours. 
    Left with no
choice, I chose not to go any further in telling her about Matt.  Not because I
wimped out, but truth is if I hadn’t seen him for myself, I would never have
believed such things were possible.  So, how could I ever expect Laura to
believe that Matt was trying to tell me something and that I felt it was
something really important?
    I looked over my
shoulder to see her rummaging through her desk drawer, when it dawned on me
that she’d become complacent with my never-ending idiosyncrasies.  My talk of
ghosts hadn’t even fazed her.  Not surprising, considering my OCD.  One time
while staying at a luxury hotel on business, I felt compelled to record the
thread count of the sheets and the number of chocolates on the pillows.  Even I
found that odd.
    Perhaps
subconsciously, my need for perfection was just an attempt to fix myself.  It
was easier to center on what I could control, a diversion for what I couldn’t face.  Like accepting that I was lonely and that if it weren’t for me, my
husband would still be alive.
    Matt used to
compare me with a Jane Austen heroine, exacting social standards, exhibiting
stubborn gustiness, stanch loyalty, and facing life’s daunting challenges and
turning them into conquests.  And there I was traipsing about the wild kingdom
hoping to prove his ghostly existence.
    Folding my arms, I
turned back toward the