The Last Adventure of Constance Verity Read Free

replied.
    â€œFunny. I don’t feel dead. I expected it to be . . . colder. Or warmer.”
    She shrugged. “Maybe it’s because of the way you died.”
    â€œWhen did it happen?” he asked.
    â€œA couple of years ago. There was this artifact buried at these crossroads . . . Y’know what? The details aren’t really important.”
    â€œAnd now I’m a ghost. I suppose there’s some irony in that. I was wondering why the cleaning staff was doing such a lackluster job.”
    He blew at some dust, and his spectral breath managed to raise a few specks.
    â€œNobody’s bought the house since I passed?”
    â€œPeople say it’s haunted.”
    He laughed.
    â€œAnd why are you here again, Connie?”
    â€œI like to check on you. I kept a key to the place.” Not that she needed it.
    â€œCheck on me?” He folded his hands under his chin. “Since I don’t remember any of those other times, I have to assume that means I have standard recurring spectral memory fugue.”
    She nodded.
    â€œAnd we’ve had this conversation before.”
    â€œI’ve lost count.”
    â€œDisappointing, but not unexpected.”
    â€œYou always say that.”
    â€œYes, I imagine I’m prone to repetition. Nature of a repetitive spirit manifestation, isn’t it? After all the time I spent studying them, I have to say becoming one isn’t very interesting.”
    He always said that, too.
    â€œI miss you, Arthur. I never really got the chance to tell you when it mattered, but I think I was falling in love with you.”
    Arthur eyebrows arched. His glasses slid down his nose. He pushed them up.
    â€œI had no idea.”
    â€œNeither did I. Not until after you were gone.” She sighed. “Died, I mean. You’re still here.”
    â€œAnd you still come to visit me?”
    â€œI hope you aren’t here. And I hope you are.”
    â€œConnie, you can’t torture yourself like this. I’m sure you did everything you could to save me.”
    She laughed. “I’m not feeling guilty, Arthur. I’ve lost people before. Goes with the territory. I just wish we could’ve lived different lives.”
    â€œYes, well, I’m afraid it’s too late for one of us. And you never really had a choice.”
    â€œI’m going to become normal,” she said.
    â€œDo you want to do that?” he asked.
    â€œI’m going to try.”
    â€œNo, Connie. I didn’t ask if you could. I’m asking if you want to.”
    â€œOf course I want to. What kind of question is that?”
    â€œConnie, being normal isn’t as easy as not having adventures. It’s not something you just become.” He tried to take her hand, but his fingers passed through hers. “Oh, right. Ghost. Keep forgetting that. My point is that you can’t just elect to be normal. You’ve seen and done too much. It’s not as simple as flicking a switch.”
    â€œI know at least four or five guys with time machines,” she said.
    â€œTime machines are not how ordinary people solve their problems,” he said. “As I recall, you always said time travel never works out the way you want, anyway.”
    â€œI never got to go to my prom,” she said.
    â€œI didn’t go to mine.”
    â€œI didn’t get to go. I was off fighting yetis on Venus. Not that it would’ve mattered. I barely went to school. Didn’t make any friends there. You’re my second-best friend, Arthur, and you’re dead.”
    â€œAgain. Not a very ordinary thing. Is it so bad being special?”
    â€œI used to love this stuff. Gallivanting across the universe, fighting evil, discovering lost mysteries, saving the world.” She smiled. “It was fun. And I didn’t think a whole hell of a lot about what I was losing in the process. Proms and weddings and casual Fridays. I lost my