Nathan's Clan of Deadheads Page 3

  He grabbed one of the official sheets of plastic a member of the compound had pilfered from the state’s Division of Motor Vehicles and once again marveled at having the best of both worlds at their disposal. On the dead side, he could go anywhere and take anything sight unseen—well, unseen by live people, anyway. On the other, he lived as he always had, if you didn’t count people reacting to an unusually cool touch. Body temperature dropped almost three full degrees and he found reactions to that amusing upon seeing the odd expression when shaking hands with a new acquaintance, or whenever he needed to see a doctor. Sure, it was easy enough to pilfer a new body, but why discard a perfectly sound one over a minor illness or a little needed routine maintenance?

  While Nathan waited for the machine to heat, he went about his morning routine and dressed. With the machine ready, he laminated his new identification, turned off the electronics, and went out to introduce the rest of the clan to his new look, along with requests to remind him to stay out of Roanoke for the foreseeable future. It was a given he couldn’t remove himself from this body, at least for a while.

  After all these years, Nathan knew it took months for all sense of the host body’s ego to be pushed down into unreachable depths of consciousness. That also meant trips to town for necessities would fall on the others, just in case someone from Roanoke had reason to wander to another town. He sure didn’t want to have to deny an identity, or spend time trying to convince anyone that they were mighty mistaken; that he didn’t know them.

  It sure wasn’t horse and buggy days like in his youth. Heck, even trains had lost ground to cars and trucks. Until recently, the Concorde jet plane could have a person from New York City all the way to Paris in less than two hours. Yes, sir, these days it seemed masses of folks moved around faster than a newt scrambled under a rock.

  Chapter 5

  Jenna turned from the bow of the schooner, loaned for their honeymoon cruise from the small island where their wedding had been held, and went to the chaise where Marvin was stretched out. “Can’t this thing move any faster, Marvin?”

  “What’s your hurry, kiddo?”

  “There are things I need to attend to.”

  “Aren’t you having a nice time? The wedding was spectacular. Davy did a bang-up job, everybody who was anybody on that island said so. “Didn’t you enjoy it?”

  Jenna had enjoyed everything; the incredible wedding and reception, and the honeymoon cruise. Though, if pressed, she would have to admit she’d been antsy through it all to get home, which might explain why she didn’t waste time after the ceremony to pull the veil from her head and remove the train. “Now, what am I going to do with these? It’s not like I can put them in a box for my own posterity. What would be the point?”

  “Ah, but they should be kept, no?” Gianni Versace, who had designed her unique gown, held out a hand to take them from her.

  “Where? If I put it in the closet at the hotel, it’ll just end up in the lost and found when some maid comes to ‘scatter the dust’ as Mike Hamilton puts it.”

  “I shall take it back to Milan, mia bella. There it will be put in a place of honor—where my sister will discover it and wonder who it was for. It will be great fun for me to say, ‘Ah, Donatella, my silly little sister, this is from the only wedding gown the great House of Versace has ever done. Made for one of the greatest beauties of the world.’ ” He kissed the back of Jenna’s hand, then smiled as he drew his gaze slowly up her frame.

  “The gown is gorgeous. Greatest beauty? Now that could easily be argued.”

  “What could be argued?” Marvin approached Jenna and leaned down to plant a small kiss on her bare shoulder.

  Jenna shrugged. “Nothing. Where did you come from? Why aren’t you down in the thick of things with the others?”

  Word of the event rapidly spread through their plane of existence, and the reception for the Wedding of the Millennium—perhaps ever among deadheads—was in full swing on the small Caribbean isle. Royalty from as far back as the 12th Century drank and laughed, mingling among the more recently departed blue bloods. No one, not even Jason or Teresa, could recall an event quite like it, and they both traced their origins to days soon after homo heildelbergensis.

  Marvin moved to Jenna’s side and hooked an arm through hers. “I want to dance with my wife.” He smiled at Versace. “Wife. Damn, I like the sound of that. Maybe we should borrow the schooner that brought us here.” Marvin waggled his brows.

  Jenna poked an elbow into his side. “Down, boy. We’ve got an island full of guests to consider.”

  “Ah, who can blame him for being eager? But, if you must decline his invitation for that, surely you must accept his offer to dance with his bride.”

  “I suppose. But, then the skirt has to come off as well.”

  As Jenna took hold of the gathered material at her waist, Marvin stopped her. “What are you doing? You can’t—”

  “Hush, Marvin.” Jenna pushed his hands away. She grasped the top layer of the gown, which the designer had so brilliantly done and, from knees in front to the cascaded ground-length folds at her heels, it slid to the sand to reveal a matching skirt that ended just above the knees.

  She stepped away and Versace retrieved it. “You see, Marvin? Gianni would never embarrass such a creature as your Mrs. Broudstein.”

  “Wow. And, look, still as beautiful,” Marvin stated. “Gianni, you are as clever as you are talented.”

  “Now, you must go. Go and enjoy the party.” Versace waved a hand through the air.

  Jenna planted air kisses on each of his cheeks, then hooked an arm through one of Marvin’s and they walked down from the crest, weaving their way through the hundreds of tables to a dance floor set in front of a large bandstand on the northern beach. To sounds and comments of delighted wonder at her transformed dress, and deafening applause (if one were a deadhead), Marvin held Jenna’s hand and, in a wide circular motion, brought her into his arms. Still holding hands, they separated and bowed to a throng of people, both famous and infamous. Some they knew, most they didn’t, still others they’d only heard about. The orchestra played “Begin the Beguine” as if Cole Porter himself conducted from his original sheet music. Jenna’s bare feet glided along, following Marvin’s every lead.

  At the end, they bowed once more to applause. Jenna called out to the crowd, waving them onto the floor. “Well, don’t just sit there.”

  When the vibrations of too many deadheads bumping into them got to be intolerable, Jenna led Marvin off to find longtime neighbors Colleen and Patrick. Jenna plopped down into a chair.

  “Don’t you two just make a pair,” Colleen exclaimed, passing a glass of wine into Jenna’s reaching hand.

  “Who knew the big oaf could be so graceful?” Jenna winked at Marvin.

  “Hey, watch it, there, kiddo. You don’t graduate from Harvard without some of the social graces.”

  “And why aren’t you and Patrick out there? I’ll bet you haven’t been dancing in years. Come on, this is a party.”

  “Oh, for goodness sake, Jenna, I’d stumble all over the place. I’m afraid I’d embarrass poor Patrick to death. Besides, we’re too old for that. This is for you young people.”

  Marvin drained the water from the crystal goblet in front of him. “Who says you’re old? You two are spry as teenagers. And, I’ve seen the glint in his eyes.”

  “Oh, go on with you.” Colleen gave a wave of her hand that accompanied a big grin.

  Almost an hour later, Davy, who’d organized the event down to the last silver dessert spoon, approached their table in a rush of flapping hands and gasping breath. “Oh, my, God. Oh, my, God! This is too perfect. You are just too perfect.”

  Jenna scowled at Marvin’s eye roll, then smiled up at Davy. “It’s all perfect. Every candelabra, every morsel of food, every light on every tree.”

  “You certainly outdid yourself, I’ll give you that,” Marvin said.

  “Oh, but I’m not done. Guess who just offered up
their yacht for you to use when this shindig is over?”

  “Who would do such a thing? We’ve got our chartered ship.”

  “You’re never going to guess.” A hand placed to his chest and his brow creased, Davy stood holding his breath and waited as if he’d burst. “Oh, my, God. Dodi and Di! I mean, could you just…” He commenced flapping his hands again.

  “That’s sweet but, really, Davy. The one we—”

  “Oh, no. No, no, no. We’ll need that cargo hold for stowing things after this has all been torn down, remember?” He turned to Marvin. “And that’s not all. Don’t think I forgot about you. Is there a special surprise in store for you! Are you ready for it?”

  Marvin sat speechless. Jenna watched him cringe behind a hand when Davy stood on an adjoining chair. A single wave of his hand stopped the music. Jenna, Marvin, Patrick, and Colleen all turned to learn what had brought it to a halt. After a moment of silence as two men exchanged places, four thumps of the bass drum echoed up the distance, a beam of light pooled over the musician, and an unmatchable solo performance brought Marvin to his feet.

  “Are you kidding me? You got Gene Kruppa to play at our wedding?” Marvin pulled Davy into a bear hug. “Are you—You little schmuck, I could kiss you. In fact, I think I will.” He grabbed the man’s shoulders and planted a kiss on his forehead.

  After Marvin ran onto the stage to thank the band, thank Davy, thank the entire dead world for such a dazzling display, Jenna pulled him down off the platform. “We should be going, Marvin.”

  “Why? Aren’t you having a good time?”

  “Yes, but that’s not the point. Davy said we have the use of the schooner for a limited time. We should say our goodbyes and go.”

  On the way through the crowd, Jenna stopped to remove the sapphire and diamond necklace. She handed it to Diane, who had become her second-in-command of the new sect of Keepers. “And make sure you return it. I don’t want that poor jeweler to suffer any more anxiety.” In response to the scowl Diane presented, Jenna pointed a finger at her. “You promised me it would go back.”

  It took Jenna and Marvin another two hours to get on board. After two yanks on the ship’s bell as the signal to leave, the engines fired up and the captain maneuvered America II, with its black hull and gold lettering gleaming in the moonlight, through the mass of yachts, schooners, and small ships that packed the bay.

  Now two days into their honeymoon cruise back to Key West, where the schooner moored, Jenna’s nerves jangled. She couldn’t sit or stand in one place for more than a few minutes. “The sect needs my help. I can’t just leave them on their own.”

  In a surprise twist, rather than the World Council of Keepers punishing Jenna for infractions against the living, they made her the head of a new sect. One sect, Teresa’s, welcomed the departed to rest, another, Jason’s, held evil at bay, and Jenna’s had been granted watch over the living, helping victims escape abuse and violence.

  From his reclined position on the chaise lounge on the fore deck, Marvin shaded his eyes from the midday sun. “Come on, Jen, this is beginning to sound like every old excuse when you were alive and working for that law firm that sucked the life out of you. Can’t this wait?”

  Jenna shook her head, her scowl deepened. “No. I have to get back.”

  “I thought you had a whole contingent of helpers in your…police force, or whatever you call it. You’ve got deputi—”

  “Something’s off; wrong.”

  Marvin shook his head. “Something’s off all right.”

  “No, Marv. I can feel it.”

  Chapter 6

  The number of Jumpers, a title they’d given themselves after someone described Nathan’s longevity as jumping from body to body, living at the compound fluctuated. Three of the cabins currently stood empty; one when Steve and Sarah grew tired of sneaking into one another’s places. Of course, by then, the rest of the clan had long since figured things out. In fact, it was Nathan who laughed when he finally told them, “You two may as well be shacked-up in the same shack.”

  Once, an older woman who’d come to their encampment had stayed until the body she’d taken over withered. As that self slid toward death she said, “This is like dying a second time. I don’t think I can do this again. It was hard enough and painful enough the first time. This feels no different. When it’s over, I think I’m just gonna wander off.”

  “You can go now, if you like. We’ll keep a watch,” Sarah offered.

  “No, I wouldn’t feel right about that. I’m the one who used her, I should be here.”

  To her credit, she slipped from the body and waited. Then she welcomed the new deadhead and they walked away together. No one was surprised when, moments later, a pure white glow appeared from the path leading away from the compound. Arrayed fingers of light reached toward the sky between the leaves and branches. They expanded, grew brighter, and then flickered out. The two women had made the choice to go with the Sanctuarians of Teresa’s sect. Every deadhead had seen it happen before. In fact, the offer was always made to the very young, the chronically infirm, and those who expressed a weariness of the world upon their first death. All but Nathan that is. Having been thrown into the miner’s body with such sudden force he neither received the offer, nor witnessed it for the other miners, though he’d observed it plenty over the ensuing years.

  Nathan and the rest of the group gave the body she left behind a proper burial. Steve even said a few reverent words. The grave site went unmarked except for initials carved into the trunk of a nearby tree.

  As years passed and chain stores came into existence, life became easier. The group alternated between two major big box warehouse stores, though one of them required a much longer trip all the way into Harrisonburg, Virginia. Nathan always footed the bill, fed from his initial inheritance which had grown to enormous sums in investment accounts over the years; it paid to have come from a wealthy Tennessee family and he never minded. Of course, finding an attorney who managed to connive the system into creating a fund available to Nathan in perpetuity made the real difference, and ensured money would always be plentiful.

  “We lead simple lives,” Nathan explained to an interested deadhead while on one such run into Charleston for supplies. The guy had recognized them for what they were and followed them out to Nathan’s truck. “We take turns with the chores around the place, we look after one another’s welfare.”

  They helped the middle-aged man pick out a physical self and waited for him to make the transition. The guy stayed at the compound about six months before he declared inhabiting someone turned out to be more trouble than he cared for. “Shit, Nathan, I forgot how hard it can be. Well, sir, no offense, but ya’ll can keep it. Not needing no money, walking in and taking what I want, sight unseen, doing what pleases me, when I please…that’s livin’.”

  “No offense taken. I’ll allow it ain’t for everyone.” Nathan’s tone turned stern. “But, I’ll also allow you best wait until we get near a town to shed this body. And we’ll thank you to keep your mouth shut. We don’t need no trouble up here. Agreed?”

  The man nodded. “Agreed.”

  Obviously, Nathan didn’t agree about the quality of living as a deadhead.

  Over the years, whenever he missed some of the finer things life could offer, like central heat and a hot shower in winter, he would leave the enclave and spend time in a city. He searched out good food, museums, libraries where he read voraciously and, of course, women. Another weakness also drew him: movies. From the first Nickelodeon he witnessed in New York City during the winter of 1905 he became hooked.

  So, one early morning in mid-October, when he woke and walked out to see the first light blanket of snow covering the meadow, Nathan sought out Zach, who he’d become strangely close to over the past weeks. “It’s about time for me to head out ’til Spring.”

  “Where ya gonna go this year, Nate?” Zach came out of his cabin, zipping his coat.

  Nathan pulled the toothp
ick from his mouth and shrugged. “Not sure. I just know it won’t be Roanoke!” When they both stopped laughing, he added, “You can stay in my place if you’ve got a hankerin’ to.” The knowledge of the man living in his cabin made the thought of leaving for six months somehow easier to bear. As if family were there awaiting his return.

  “That’s kind of you. I appreciate it.” Zach clapped a hand on Nathan’s shoulder. “You know you can rest easy that it’ll be spic and span when you get back.”

  “I know. I’ll trust you to keep an eye on things while I’m gone, too.”

  “’Course. You need anything special done while you’re away?”

  “Not that I can think of,” Nathan said, replacing the toothpick. “Unless ya’ll get the druthers to extend that gravity water line to the other cabins before the ground freezes. Check for an email from me now and then.” He slapped Zachariah on the back, then pulled him into a hug with a heartfelt squeeze. “Ya’ll take care now, hear?” He headed for his truck wondering why he’d done that. In fact, as Nathan looked back on his time in this new body, there had been many instances of behavior he found odd.

  He’d always spent more time with the men, but only because they did most of the hard-labor chores around the compound; thinning out nearby dead trees and brush as a fire deterrent, then splitting the logs for wood stoves, or planning and making repairs to structures. Yet, even outside of those tasks he found an increasing amount of enjoyment in being around them; especially with Zach. For some reason neither of them could quite fathom, it was as if Nathan couldn’t do a thing without having the man nearby. Nathan realized he would find excuses to spend time with his friend and took any opportunity to keep the man in sight, stealing looks when he was in any stage of undress. If the man was totally naked, as often happened around the site—particularly when they went to swim or bathe in the stream—something Nathan didn’t understand compelled him to be there.