"Was the house owned by a new family? Did that event cause some kind of rift that changed the history of the house?" Maggie asked.
"Nope. The woman had the same name," Gus answered. "She was married to the same man. Nothing had changed but her appearance."
Maggie and Johnny stared at him, dumbfounded.
"The woman had a different father," Gus said flatly.
"The girl your grandma helped didn't marry her fiance after all?" Maggie guessed.
"No..that ain't it," Gus retorted. "She married him and she had a daughter...the lady of the house was her daughter."
"Your grandmother prevented a rape that resulted in the girl becoming pregnant by her uncle." Johnny's face was grim as he supplied the correct answer. He looked at Maggie and then back at Gus. Gus nodded, and Maggie breathed a whispered exclamation. The three of them sat in contemplative silence.
"But Gus...your grandma helped the girl," Maggie repeated, insistent.
"Yes she did, Miss Margaret - and in that moment she altered circumstances dramatically enough to make one woman completely disappear and another take her place. Do you understand what I'm tellin' you?"
Johnny reached out and touched Maggie’s hand again, almost as if he was suddenly afraid to lose her. Maggie clasped his fingers and wrapped her hand around his.
"You might have the very best of intentions, Miss Margaret, but this is life we're talkin' about, and you can't play with it. What was and what is can be changed in an instant. Sometimes people's memories are a little slow in keepin' up. All those things you don’t understand? That’s just time changing its mind, like I told ya. Time is shifty...like those fun house mirrors, but it ain’t a game, girl. It’s for real. "
***
Johnny helped Maggie with her janitorial duties that day, and it was almost like the old days when he was invisible to everyone but her, the imaginary friend only she could see. She told him how he had been able to accomplish things that took her hours, simply by wishing it so. He just shook his head in amazement and tried to make the floor clean itself, only to have the floppy mop fall to the floor in a wet heap.
“So Purgatory had its advantages,” he sighed, and Maggie laughed at his glum expression.
“It did - but I don’t think you’d go back - not for all the power in the universe. You were like a genie in a bottle - completely trapped.”
“Would you have me go back?” he queried softly.
“To Purgatory?” she squeaked, incredulous.
“Yeah. I get the feeling you’re in love with the ghost, and the real guy is a bit of a disappointment.”
Maggie stared at him and then looked away guiltily. She mopped silently for a moment, trying to put her thoughts in order before she spoke them.
“No. I wouldn’t. But I....miss you. I miss the Johnny that read to me and made me laugh and thought I was....something special. I miss your affection and your touch. I miss being able to touch you in return, to dance when I know you’re watching. I miss my friend.”
Johnny felt her yearning, and it echoed painfully in his chest. He had tasted what loving her could be like. He’d only had the one perfect night under the stars, with her in his arms, but it had given him a glimpse of the love affair that was possible, and it had been enough to keep him looking for her when he thought she had run out on him.
Maggie tried to smile at him, a wobbly turn of her pink mouth, but he could see her unhappiness. “I miss you, Johnny. But I’ve lost a lot in my life, and I will survive losing you too if it comes in exchange for your happiness or your freedom. But I really hope...” she broke off then and stared at her Converse sneakers. “I really hope I don’t have to,” she finished in a rush, and her cheeks flushed, spreading the stain down her slim neck and into the V of her pink tee shirt.
“Can we start over, Maggie?” Johnny took the mop from her hand and pushed her glasses up on her little nose. They suited her, somehow, and he liked her all the more for the way they camouflaged her sexiness, making any guy have to look twice to see the obvious.
Maggie smiled at him like he’d hung the moon -- a slow spreading grin that lit her face like a sunrise. “I’d like that, Johnny.”
He leaned in and touched his lips to hers ever so softly, feeling his stomach flip over and his knees go weak at the contact. Her mouth was silky and her breath sweet, and the relief that coursed through him made him want to cry like a baby and bury his face in her hair. Maybe everything would be all right. He had Maggie, and for the first time he believed he would survive life after Purgatory. He had Maggie, and maybe that was enough.
~19~
A Time to Hate
1958
Roger Carlton parked his car across the street from The Malt and waited until he saw her come out. His lights were off, and the businesses around him were closed for the night. There weren't any cars in the lot in front of the diner, and he had seen very few automobiles pass on the quiet street that crossed in front of the popular hangout. Val rode a bike to and from work; Dolly and the other waitress, the little fat one, usually walked. It wasn't far for either of them. Roger knew Val would watch as Dolly made her way down the street. He didn't like the ladies walking home at that hour. Ten o'clock was still early on a summer night, but Val was protective. Roger eased his car out of the parking lot and circled around the block in the other direction. He would intercept her before she reached her house.