Mariana and Brutus.

  Abagail came out of the storeroom the next morning to find Rupert standing next to Astar. She was holding Tibbar rabbit. Abagail let out a sigh and brought another chair over for Astar. She then went to the front door and turned the OPEN sign over to CLOSED, just as a customer arrived.

  "Sorry, back in twenty minutes," explained Abagail.

  "No problem," smiled the young man. "I'll just get a coffee."

  "Thank you. Make sure it's organic!" called out Abagail, and slowly walked over to her desk and sat down.

  "Right," said Abagail. "It went well?"

  "Like a charm," grinned Rupert. "Though at one point I think he had decided to hit me. They went off happily together and my tinkering tools set them on a collision course with the afterlife. My guess is they didn't even notice the tunnel of love, or as you like to call it, the North Moriset Tunnel, which led them straight to heaven. Most likely gazing lovingly into each other's eyes without even noticing their earthbound days had come to an end. Very odd though. Nevertheless, angels have their ways. And we like to win in the end. Don't we, Astar?" asked Rupert.

  "As long as the battle is just," smiled Astar. "Indeed."

  "So what now?" asked Abagail. "I did as you asked. I think I did a fair job helping you with Jacob and Carol?"

  "Absolutely sensational!" grinned Rupert.

  "Do you think you could do it again?" asked Tibbar rabbit.

  "Good help is hard to find. Very hard to find."

  "What again? More lost spirits?" asked Abagail. "It takes up a lot of time... Hmmm... my customers don't like being turned away too often."

  "Of course we understand, Abagail. We would compensate you financially and try to make it so it doesn't interfere too much with the running of your humble gorgeous little shop here. It doesn't have to be every week."

  "Once a month?" asked Astar, leaning forward to admire the beautiful green jade stone Abagail had on display.

  "Well..." pondered Abagail. Though she was showing them some annoyance from her face, she had felt it had made her week a lot more entertaining. It wasn't every day she faced lost souls. Plus, she enjoyed power.

  "Okay team," said Abagail, nodding once. "Whenever really. If I need a break I'll let you know. But I want your promise I will not be placed under too high an expectation. Seeing and hearing lost souls takes concentration."

  "A huge amount of concentration. That's why I came to you, Abagail," said Rupert with a smile. "You, young lady, are the best!"

  "Oh sure. How about Wilbur Warburton?" smiled Abagail, briefly.

  Astar laughed.

  "Let's not get carried away," chuckled Rupert. "Right. That's settled." They both stood up. Rupert bowed, while Astar shared a cute grin holding Tibbar rabbit with his pink nose wiggling constantly. They slowly disappeared.

  "Hmmm," thought Abagail, walking towards the locked door as the young man returned with coffee in hand.

  "Organic," he smiled on entering.

  As Abagail placed her small Wizards and Witches sign out onto the footpath tight up against the glass, she couldn't help but notice a short woman colourfully dressed with a large green hat pulled low over her face wearing noisy white high-heeled shoes, heading purposefully in her direction. In fact, Abagail couldn't take her eyes off her as she stopped right in front of her with a half gritty smile.

  "You're the medium, right?" asked the woman before letting out a large expulsion of air.

  "Yes, that's me," replied Abagail, plainly.

  "Good," she nodded. "I need you to get rid of someone for me."

  The large dark glasses she wore couldn't hide the heavy makeup and her strong attractive face. Her arms looked slightly muscular. Abagail could see that she was very fit.

  "I'm not a hitman," replied Abagail, holding her ground.

  "You will want to be by the time I'm finished telling you about my dead husband who won't leave me alone."

  Abagail looked over the woman's shoulder to see Rupert give a quick thumbs up, then disappear.

  "Mhmm. Well... looks like you've got yourself a hitman, woman."

  "Right," nodded the woman.

  Abagail followed her back inside and was starting to feel more like a psychiatrist than a medium, as once again she offered the woman a seat. She looked reluctant to sit at first. Just as she was about to, a delivery man with an offsider wheeled two brand new brown leather chairs on wheels across the wooden floor to the glass cabinet.

  "Good morning," smiled the busy-looking worker. "Abagail Abercrombie?"

  "Yes," agreed Abagail, staring at the chairs questioningly.

  "Special delivery from one Mr. Rupert Richardson. Sign here please."

  Abagail signed.

  "Thanks. Have a good day," he smiled. Both young men left at once. One of their many missions accomplished.

  "Okay..." smiled Abagail. "Pull up a chair." She smirked.

  "My name is Mariana Banks. I'm thirty-three. A past Olympic weightlifting competitor in the 71kg category class in Paris. Though they're changing classes for the upcoming LA Olympics. So I'll be lifting in the 77kg class. I want to win gold. That's my dream. I've got two years left in me before I give it away. On the 27th of October, I'll be competing in the World Championships. I need to be able to eat, sleep, practice, and exercise on time. I need peace and quiet. I don't need my dead husband constantly appearing around me wherever I go. He comes to me in my dreams most of all. That way he can talk to me. He won't stop with suggestions and advice. It goes on and on... just a moment," asked Mariana, pulling out her phone and showing Abagail a picture of a large man. Dark hair and beard. Brown eyes and a smile that looked totally confident. If anything he reminded Abagail of Brutus from the Popeye cartoon.

  Mariana suddenly stood up. She dropped her thick long white woolen coat to the floor. Mariana now exposed her tight blue jeans and a skin-tight dark green vest with patches on it. She raised up her arms and brought them down with clenched fists to expand her incredible muscles. She grunted twice for effect.

  Abagail looked amazed by her figure. She was impressed but personally had not a shred of interest in ever lifting anything heavier than her fat cat Roper. It was at that moment that Brutus appeared beside her watching Mariana's pose.

  "He's here!" explained Abagail, slightly startled by the giant.

  "Of course he is," frowned Mariana. "Marcus can't get enough of this, can you?" snarled Mariana, flexing her muscles in every direction.

  "Good grief," whispered Abagail to herself.

  "Good girl," shouted Marcus. "Flex more, work harder. Your anger will bring you gold. GOLD IS WHAT WE WANT!" Marcus laughed with uncontrolled joy.

  "Where is he?" frowned Mariana.

  "Ahh, he's directly to your left," said Abagail, helpfully. Abagail now felt under her chair and found what she was looking for. She raised her chair a little and tilted it back. "I may as well feel comfortable," whispered Abagail.

  "See what you've made me do, Marcus? Don't you get it? I need to be left alone!" Mariana turned to look at Abagail. "What is he saying, Abagail?"

  Abagail repeated word for word.

  "I'll never leave you alone. You're my wife. You're my property. Wherever you go I'll be there. Forever and ever. I've invested my life with you and you alone. You'll never get rid of me, Mariana. Never!" explained Abagail.

  And Marcus disappeared.

  "You see now what I'm up against?" said a clearly exhausted Mariana.

  A young couple entered the shop and began browsing. Mariana picked up her coat, wrapped it tightly around herself, then slumped back down into the brand new office chair, a shadow of her former self.

  "He's gone now," said Abagail, shocked, alarmed and now totally up to date with the struggle which Mariana faced.

  "Can we have these please?" asked the young couple, placing two Wizards and Witches shirts onto the glass counter. Three packets of incense sticks. A garden planting guide and a multi-colored headscarf.

  Abagail placed the items into a Spiritual Gifts bag, then happily passed it over. Sanity for a moment, thought Abagail.

  Abagail watched the door close, sat back into her chair and wondered.

  "How did he die?" asked Abagail, plainly.

  "He was shot."

  "You didn't?" wondered Abagail.

  Now Mariana laughed.

  "Oh..." she laughed. "Sometimes I wish I had." She stopped laughing. "Quite a lot lately. But no. He was killed by a rival competitor's husband. My Brutus couldn't control his sexual urges. But that's another story completely. They're both in jail now. It's sad really. At first I was overwhelmed with happiness that Marcus loved me so much. I had never found a man who doted on me so much. He showered me in roses and gifts. He took me everywhere. When I first said I wanted to visit Mom alone, he insisted on driving me. Friends, insist. Work, insist. Training, insist. Shopping, running, showering, sleeping, cooking, eating, everything. The day I demanded he let me go out by myself he couldn't. Then I began sneaking out from work at lunchtime. Only, he would find me. Confront me. He would tap me on the shoulder to tell me I can't be out without him. I grew to dislike him after that. I focused on lifting. It was the only place he was finally not allowed to attend with me. He argued black and blue with the coaches. Once they mentioned restraining orders and the police, he backed off. He would sit outside in his car counting down the minutes till I came out. All the way home it was question after question and how he could have done it better. And now he's dead. And for eight months he's still there. Every day. Thank G O D... I can't hear him away from my dreams."

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  They both looked at each other in sudden silence.

  "Can you help me?" begged Mariana.

  Abagail took a last mouthful of tea and banged it down onto the cabinet.

  "Yes I can. Here, write down your details and I'll be in touch tomorrow. I need to talk to my associates about this one."

  Mariana brought a card out from her pink sports wallet. It held her contact details through her personal trainer business.

  "Here," she said quietly, and slid the card over.

  Mariana jumped up, spun about, and walked forcefully to the door. Her loud high-heels pressing into the floorboards did no favours to Abagail's recently expensive re-sand, wax and polish.

  *

  The afternoon was fairly quiet for a Saturday. At least Clare filled in for Abagail at the shop on a Sunday. Her one day off a week. Except when closed or Clare was available for a fill-in shift or extra hours during the week.

  Abagail locked the door and hurried into her yellow Beetle as a late afternoon sun-shower partially washed her car.

  "You know, Abagail," grinned Rupert. "Sun=showers represent hope, a powerful mix of joy and sorrow. A divine blessing of opposite emotions."

  Abagail clicked in her seatbelt and looked thoughtful.

  "Where do you get all these sayings?"

  "It's a gift, granted to me by the high order of Fariddion... or I just eavesdrop and steal them." Rupert chuckled.

  "I thought as much," smiled Abagail, as she indicated out between the slow Sunday afternoon traffic.

  "I noticed your thumbs up today," said Abagail. "And thank you for the chairs."

  "Are they comfy?" he hoped.

  "Super comfy. My backside didn't know how hard it was travelling."

  "Ah, simply scintillating seating, love it." Rupert grinned. "And how did you find Mariana?"

  "Strong physically and mentally," decided Abagail, turning right towards her house.

  "And Marcus?"

  Abagail cleared her throat. "He's a monster."

  "Hmm," grunted Rupert. "A bully, a narcissist, a predator... but not a murderer. But he would have been."

  Abagail pulled to a stop behind two other cars waiting at the stop sign for her turn to turn left.

  "I'm not surprised," said Abagail, rubbing her face and moving her Beetle up to the line.

  The gap came and the 1600cc engine quickly crossed over, chuffing its fast presto beat.

  "I suppose you have a plan of how to sort this out, because I could not."

  Abagail pushed on the metal bar for the horn, beeped twice, and waved to a young woman who waved at her noticeable car.

  "Not what? Of course you can. You could do it in your sleep," protested Rupert happily.

  Abagail slowed down to enter her driveway. Her house was hidden behind a high hedge. Large leafy trees extended back towards the house. The gardens encasing the one-acre property were measured and once pennant winners. There were no gates. In fact she had taken the two old rusted gates off with her own tools.

  The leafy driveway blew little leaves over the Beetle with a gust of wind, rain and finally sunshine as they came to a stop. She carefully lined up the yellow Beetle with the old little wooden carport and parked up safely.

  "Always a delight to be here. Such a remarkable property," admired Rupert, quickly climbing out.

  Abagail hurried up the four wooden steps onto the porch. She withdrew the house key from her handbag and quickly let herself and her guest inside.

  Rushing forward, Roper brushed against her legs.

  "Roper!" Abagail smiled. "How are you, baby? Did you miss me?"

  Roper meowed and headed for the empty food bowl. Roper stopped and looked at Rupert. His dark coat clean and long.

  "Hello, you solivagant soul. Hungry would be my guess?" Rupert grinned, as Roper attempted to rub at his legs first, before just meowing.

  Abagail went to her fridge. She brought out some tinned cat food. Grabbed a small box of dry cat food and placed some into each side of the double bowl.

  Routine completed, Abagail walked over the wooden floorboards onto the rug and jumped onto her couch, suggesting Rupert take a seat.

  "So Rupert. Was there a clue in saying I could do it in my sleep?"

  Rupert pointed at Abagail with an outstretched arm.

  "Your powers of deduction never cease to amaze me. You're a modern-day Sherlock Holmes," he grinned and rubbed his hands together.

  "Elementary, my dear Rupert," she smiled briefly. "You're an old soul at heart."

  "Quite the antediluvian, yes. Now, to answer your question. Sleep. That's how we're going to move the reluctant Marcus on to Fariddion. Or, as you like to refer to him, Brutus."

  "Heaven for Brutus hey?" asked Abagail.

  "Not in the sense of white clouds and just a holy man in a big golden chair, but a world complete with all. And him too. I'll tell you more about that some other time. Now, what we'd like you to do for Mariana is this."

  Abagail sat back with a cup of tea and listened.

  *

  Abagail looked at Rupert, Astar and Tibbar rabbit sitting in the chairs around her bed. Abagail was dressed in a navy-blue sports tracksuit, her sneakers beside the bed. Her grandfather clock rung seven at night.

  "I never go to bed this early," complained Abagail. "I just wish Mariana didn't have to wake at the crack of dawn every day."

  "You're doing so well," Astar giggled. "For someone going to bed in a tracksuit."

  "At least it's navy-blue," informed Abagail. "If it had been pink I wouldn't have put it on."

  "Okay then, my raven-haired rocket," smiled Rupert, getting up. "We'll leave you to it and see you before you know it. Don't forget all I told you."

  "I won't."

  Abagail frowned then glared at them unimpressed as they vanished.

  "Hmmm. I have no idea how I'm going to fall asleep. I'm too worked up," Abagail complained.

  Abagail felt her eyelids begin to close and almost instantly she was asleep as Rupert and Astar holding Tibbar appeared again at the bottom of the bed.

  "Ready?" asked Tibbar.

  Abagail couldn't respond, as a swirling orange and white light catapulted her into Mariana's bedroom.

  Abagail looked around the unfamiliar room. It was large but so plain. A king-size bed, two bedside tables, a French dresser and a modern-looking large light-green beanbag were all that occupied this large cream carpeted room big enough for a school class. Abagail noticed two red dumbbells in front of the walk-in wardrobe. She went to move them but instead of struggling they felt as if they held no weight at all.

  Mariana was fast asleep. The plan was quick. The plan was cheeky. Abagail was the bait. Any strong woman in a tracksuit was irresistible to Brutus. Unfortunately for Brutus, jealous husbands have consequences.

  Abagail turned around to find Brutus standing watching her as expected.

  "And who do we have here then?" he grinned, looking down upon Abagail.

  "Just your run-of-the-mill power lifter. You look like you could manage a bit of power lifting yourself, fella," said Abagail, running her fingers down his long muscular right forearm playfully. She tucked her fingers back into a fist, punched his shoulder, then walked straight past Brutus to head downstairs towards the gym.

  "Come on big boy. I'll show you how much I can lift," bragged Abagail.

  "You don't look like a power lifter," said Brutus with a gruff. Swinging his large arms back and forth he strode arrogantly behind Abagail. "How much can you lift over your head?" he demanded.

  "177.6," quipped Abagail, skipping down the stairs and over to stand in front of 177.6 on the bar.

  Brutus watched as Abagail effortlessly at first, then with all her concentration refocused, to slowly but surely lift this astounding weight up and over her head. A hallway clock chimed 8pm as Abagail pushed the weight back down to the floor.

  "I need a sauna after that. Care to join me?" said Abagail, remembering her lines. The act so much fun.

  Brutus looked flabbergasted at the numbers on the side of the weights. He followed Abagail's world record-holder saunter to the sauna, unable to take his eyes off her. She turned back towards him, motioned him over, then opened the sauna door and walked inside.

  Brutus threw off his tight-fitting collared sports top and headed excitedly over. He hesitated, looked around, pulled the door open and quickly went inside, closing it behind him.

  The sauna was dense in thick steam as he could partially make out the figure of the woman in the black tracksuit sitting at the back on the top wooden bench. Brutus climbed up and placed his arms around her. As Brutus pulled her forward, he was dumbfounded as a man's face appeared from the thick steam.

  "Perhaps you should leave those on," said the man.

  Brutus leapt up in shock.

  "Rupert Richardson. Pleased to meet you!" Rupert shook Brutus's limp hand.

  "Who the hell are you? And where did she go?" demanded Brutus, looking around the steamy wooden room.

  "Here... allow me," informed Rupert, throwing a cup of water onto the hot rocks.

  To Brutus's surprise the steam turned with several slight twists of swirling orange. Brutus spun about and looked trapped to Rupert.

  "No... I don't want to leave her," he snarled, and headed over to leave the sauna.

  Brutus couldn't find the door handle in the incredibly steamed-up sauna.

  "Where's the damn wooden latch. Shit... come on! Come ON...!" he shouted with rage.

  Brutus began throwing his weight against the door trying to break it open.

  "Allow me," said Rupert.

  The door flung open.

  Brutus charged out into a place he could not return from. In front of him were his family, his guides, and several well-built strong-men from past days. Surprised by his peaceful emotions, Brutus felt no hesitation as he excitedly walked over to greet them all.