It was a painfully awkward hug, but Becky loved it nonetheless because it was the epitome of who her father was.
***
"I hate this place." Danny said, voicing all of their thoughts.
"Isn't hate like, an elvish swear word?" Jesse said.
"I don't care, its the truth." Danny said defiantly.
"Alright," Said Becky passing out shovels. "Let's send this ghost back to hell."
After an hour of digging and whining -mostly on Danny's part- the friends finally found Taylor's coffin.
"Jesse," Said Becky, who was breathing heavily. "Can you *breath* hand me the *breath* wrench?" Jesse obeyed. Becky took the wrench and opened the coffin. The friends climbed out of the grave.
Danny poured the salt, while Jesse poured the gasoline.
Becky lit a match and threw it in the grave.
Then she lit another one for good measure. She just wanted all of this nonsense to be over so she could back to her life.
The three friends all sat and watched as Taylor's bones burned.
"Can we go home now?" Danny asked as the bones smoldered out. Becky nodded. The three friends walked arm and arm back to the McGunnigal's house.
"Dad?" Becky called, as she walked through the front door. Jesse and Danny had both gone home.
"Becky?" Sir Ernest's voice called from the kitchen.
"We burned the bones dad. Did it work?" Said Becky as she walked into the kitchen.
But it hadn't worked.
Taylor sat chained to the breakfast nook, right where she was when Becky had left. Sir Ernest gave Becky a worried look.
"What?" Becky practically screamed."How could this have happened? You said if we burned her bones she would be destroyed-"
Sir Ernest cut her off, "I said if you burned her bones she might be destroyed. Apparently the thing that's keeping Taylor in this plain of existence isn't her body."
"Don't you just hate when people talk about you like you aren't even there?" Taylor said.
Becky and her father rounded on the ghost.
"Listen up, missy. You're going to tell us what's keeping you here, alright?" Becky commanded.
"Now, why on earth would I do that?" Becky hadn't really thought about why she would do this. I mean, why would anyone help someone figure out the best way to damn them to the very pits of hell?
"Because you're tired." Sir Ernest said.
"Excuse me?" Taylor asked.
"That's right. You cannot enjoy this. You've been carrying around this huge weight of bitterness for over three hundred years. Come on Taylor. That must be exhausting. Give it up. If you tell us what's keeping you here, I might be able to put a good word for you. You know, shave a couple thousand years off of your sentence."
"Yes, but why would I give you the satisfaction of killing me?" Taylor replied.
"Let me do it," Becky replied.
"Beckindwarf, I appreciate the offer. But if salting and burning doesn't work, then a very difficult incantation has to be preformed to the object which is keeping a ghost in this realm. And you're not...you can't..." Sir Ernest's voice trailed off.
"I can do it." Becky said as though she was convincing herself.
"Let the girl do it, Ernest," Taylor said. "What's the worst that could happen? And I am tired. 300 years of plotting revenge is...tiring. And ghosts can't sleep? Did you know that? All I want is a nap. Oh, and maybe some pancakes. Back in my day, we didn't have pancakes. But you know, food just goes right through me. Do you think they have IHop where I'm going?" Becky and Ernest exchanged a look.
"Oh, I'm sure they do." Said Becky, unconvincingly.
"I must fetch my spell book." Said Sir Ernest, as a large leather book came zooming into the kitchen. Sir Ernest flicked through the thick, yellowing pages.
"Ah, here's the incantation, dear." Said Sir Ernest, handing his daughter the book.
Becky cleared her throat and looked down at the page.
Becky lit a match and threw it in the grave.
Then she lit another one for good measure. She just wanted all of this nonsense to be over so she could back to her life.
The three friends all sat and watched as Taylor's bones burned.
"Can we go home now?" Danny asked as the bones smoldered out. Becky nodded. The three friends walked arm and arm back to the McGunnigal's house.
***
"Dad?" Becky called, as she walked through the front door. Jesse and Danny had both gone home.
"Becky?" Sir Ernest's voice called from the kitchen.
"We burned the bones dad. Did it work?" Said Becky as she walked into the kitchen.
But it hadn't worked.
Taylor sat chained to the breakfast nook, right where she was when Becky had left. Sir Ernest gave Becky a worried look.
"What?" Becky practically screamed."How could this have happened? You said if we burned her bones she would be destroyed-"
Sir Ernest cut her off, "I said if you burned her bones she might be destroyed. Apparently the thing that's keeping Taylor in this plain of existence isn't her body."
"Don't you just hate when people talk about you like you aren't even there?" Taylor said.
Becky and her father rounded on the ghost.
"Listen up, missy. You're going to tell us what's keeping you here, alright?" Becky commanded.
"Now, why on earth would I do that?" Becky hadn't really thought about why she would do this. I mean, why would anyone help someone figure out the best way to damn them to the very pits of hell?
"Because you're tired." Sir Ernest said.
"Excuse me?" Taylor asked.
"That's right. You cannot enjoy this. You've been carrying around this huge weight of bitterness for over three hundred years. Come on Taylor. That must be exhausting. Give it up. If you tell us what's keeping you here, I might be able to put a good word for you. You know, shave a couple thousand years off of your sentence."
"Yes, but why would I give you the satisfaction of killing me?" Taylor replied.
"Let me do it," Becky replied.
"Beckindwarf, I appreciate the offer. But if salting and burning doesn't work, then a very difficult incantation has to be preformed to the object which is keeping a ghost in this realm. And you're not...you can't..." Sir Ernest's voice trailed off.
"I can do it." Becky said as though she was convincing herself.
"Let the girl do it, Ernest," Taylor said. "What's the worst that could happen? And I am tired. 300 years of plotting revenge is...tiring. And ghosts can't sleep? Did you know that? All I want is a nap. Oh, and maybe some pancakes. Back in my day, we didn't have pancakes. But you know, food just goes right through me. Do you think they have IHop where I'm going?" Becky and Ernest exchanged a look.
"Oh, I'm sure they do." Said Becky, unconvincingly.
"I must fetch my spell book." Said Sir Ernest, as a large leather book came zooming into the kitchen. Sir Ernest flicked through the thick, yellowing pages.
"Ah, here's the incantation, dear." Said Sir Ernest, handing his daughter the book.
Becky cleared her throat and looked down at the page.
Grace? We'll hear from you tomorrow?
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