the mind. When the newly dead first cross over, their biggest temptation in the earthbound state is to diffuse, to spread out, to become loose and like air, and to dream. A spirit can float in such a state forever, and the mind does not think in such a state so much as it dreams, if there is any narrative in that mind at all.”
“Ah, that’s exactly what I thought,” said Stuart suddenly, but then he sank back and gestured in apology.
“You have studied this,” said Elthram in a very genial manner to Stuart. “You and Reuben both have studied it on your computers, on the Internet, you’ve read all you can find about ghosts and spirits.”
“A lot of jumbled theories,” said Stuart. “Yes.”
“I haven’t studied it enough,” said Reuben. “I’ve been too focused on myself, on my own suffering. I should have studied.”
“But there’s truth in much of those jumbled theories,” Elthram continued.
“So when a dreaming spirit draws itself together,” said Stuart, “when it focuses, then it starts to really think.”
“Yes,” said Elthram. “It thinks, it remembers, and memory is everything for the education and the moral fiber of a spirit. And as it grows stronger, so its senses become stronger; it can see the physical world in the old way again, though not perfectly. And it can hear physical sounds in the old way again, and even smell, and touch.”
“And as it grows stronger, then it can appear,” Reuben volunteered.
“Yes. It can appear to someone who is gifted more readily than to others, but yes, as it condenses its energy, as it envisions its own energy in the form of its old physical body, it can both accidentally and purposefully appear to anyone.”
“I see. I’m getting it,” said Stuart.
“Now do keep in mind that the spirit of Marchent doesn’t know these things—she is responding when she sees or senses Reuben’s presence. And she responds when Reuben responds to her. And the act of concentrating, of focusing, of pulling together, this happens without her fully grasping that that is what she’s doing. This is how ghosts learn.”
“And left to her own devices,” asked Felix, “she will continue to learn?”
“Not necessarily,” said Elthram. “She may remain as she is for years.”
“That’s too horrible,” said Reuben.
“It is horrible,” said Felix.
“Trust in us, old friend,” said Elthram. “We will not abandon her. She’s your blood kin, and you were master of these great woods for many a decade. Once she recognizes us, once she ceases to veer away from us and back into the buffer of her dreams, once she allows herself to focus on us, we can teach her more than I can now explain to you in words.”
“But she could ignore you for years, too, couldn’t she?” asked Felix.
Elthram smiled. It was the most compassionate smile. He extended his left hand and then, turning, placed both his hands over Felix’s right hand. “She will not,” he said. “I won’t let her ignore me. You know how persistent I can be.”
“So you’re saying,” asked Reuben, “that she turned away from the white light, the portal, as you call it, because she didn’t believe in life after death?”
“There can be many tangled reasons why spirits don’t acknowledge the portal,” said Elthram. “I sense this was the reason in her case. And it was mingled with the fact that she feared notions of the hereafter for other reasons, that she would encounter there spirits she didn’t want to encounter, the spirits of her parents, for instance, whom she hated by the end of their lives.”
“Why did she hate them?” asked Reuben.
“Because she knew they’d been treacherous to Felix,” said Elthram. “She knew.”
“And all this you can extract simply by being here where her spirit is?” asked Stuart.
“We’ve been here for a very long time. We were here when she was growing up, of course. We were around her during many moments in her life. You might say we’ve always known her, because we have known Felix and known Felix’s house and Felix’s family, and we know much of what happened with her.”
This was saddening Felix, almost crushing him. He put his face in his hands.
“Don’t fear,” said Elthram. “We are here now to do what you’ve asked us to do.”
“What about the spirits of her brothers?” asked Reuben. “The men who stabbed her to death?”
“Gone from the earth,” said Elthram.
“They saw the portal and went up?”
“I don’t know,” said Elthram.
“What about Marrok’s spirit?” asked Reuben.
Elthram was quiet for a moment. “Not here. But Morphenkinder spirits almost never linger.”
“Why not?”
Elthram smiled as if the question was surprising and even naive. “They know too much about life and death,” he offered. “It’s those who don’t know much about life and death that linger, those who aren’t prepared for the transition.”
“You help other spirits, lingering spirits?” asked Stuart.
“We do. We have. Our society is like many an earthly society. We meet, we come to know, we invite, we learn from. And so it goes.”
“And your company, the Forest Gentry, you take in wandering spirits.”
“We have. We do.” Elthram seemed to be pondering for a moment. “Not everyone wants to join with us,” said Elthram. “We are after all the Forest Gentry. But we are only one group of spirits in this world. There are others. And many a spirit needs no company and evolves from virtue to virtue on his own.”
“This portal to the heavens,” asked Reuben, “does it ever open for you?”
“I am not a ghost,” said Elthram. “I have always been what I am. I chose this physical body; I constructed it for myself, and perfected it, and now and then alter it and refine it. Because I have never had an ethereal human body, but only an ethereal spirit body. I have always been spirit. And no, there is no portal to the heavens that opens for such as me.”
There came the soft sound of someone walking into the room again, and out of the gloom, Margon appeared and took the chair at the far end of the table.
Elthram’s face was stricken. His eyes quivered again as though someone were hurting him. But he looked steadily at Margon in spite of this.
“If I offend you, I’m sorry,” he said to Margon.
“You don’t offend me,” said Margon. “But you were flesh and blood once, Elthram. All of you Forest Gentry were once flesh and blood. You’ve left your bones in the earth like all living things.”
These words were lacerating Elthram and he was flinching. His whole frame stiffened as if to hunker under an assault.
“And so you’ll teach your clever skills to Marchent, will you?” demanded Margon. “You’ll teach her to rule in the astral sphere as you rule. You’ll use her intellect and memory to help her become a nonpareil of a ghost!”
Stuart looked as if he was going to cry.
“Please don’t say any more,” said Felix softly.
Margon kept his eyes on Elthram, who had drawn himself up, his open hands hovering in front of his face.
“Well, when you speak to Marchent,” said Margon, “for the love of truth, remind her of the portal. Don’t urge her to remain with you.”
“And what if there is nothing beyond the portal?” asked Stuart. “What if it’s a portal to annihilation? What if existence continues only for the earthbound?”
“If that’s so, then that’s the way it’s probably meant to be,” said Margon.
“How do you know what is meant to be?” asked Elthram. He was taking pains to be courteous. “We are the Forest People,” he said gently. “We were here before you ever came into existence, Margon. And we do not know what is meant to be. So how can you know? Oh, the tyranny of those who believe in nothing.”
“There are those who come from beyond the portal, Elthram,” said Margon.
Elthram appeared shocked.
