Falling Capricorn Read online

  Joey’s coffin was closed as his parents spared their family and friends the pain of what had happened to him. Was it painful? Was he in pain for a long time? Christen couldn’t help but wonder. Eric was rather quiet like always, sighing as the pastor started to speak of the man he didn’t even know. It killed Joey to see everyone like this, but his eyes were most focused on Christen. She played with the ring, as if feeling close to him. How much pain was she in? It made the pain he had just experienced seem like a memory watching her desperate fidgeting.

  The pastor’s voice droned on as Joey continued his watch before the pastor looked at the audience. "Now Joey’s father will say a few words,” he announced.

  Joey’s father came up to the front. The wrinkled man gave a slight smile to everyone. His blonde hair was faded to a sandy gray color, but his blue eyes were still very bright. He was a happy-go-lucky man just like Joey, and also rather imp-like. He was a lot like his father. Joey’s mother stood up straight as his father walked up; as if supporting him, and also trying to remind him to stay strong. They promised each other that they wouldn’t hold onto the past. It was said that being missed is what keeps a person who has passed from rest.

  “My boy Joey…so many words come to mind when I think of him. He was a compassionate and friendly boy; always making others smile and happy. He gave it his all for everyone else without a want in return. He was childish at times, and a bit foolish. He was a bit of a daydreamer, but he lived life the way he wanted to.” The man stopped for a moment, licking his dry lips. Joey felt tears threatening to escape him. They nearly did when he realized his father also had tears brimming on his dark ringed eyes, but he pressed on.

  “He was going to get married to a beautiful girl and they were going to have amazing grandchildren. He was going to be one of Eric’s partners, and build an amazing art gallery. His dreams are gone with him, but his lessons to us are not. He wanted everyone happy, because focusing on anything else… that is what creates wars. It’s what creates pain and misery. He wanted us all to live by his simple way of living, to live to be happy. To be happy with what we have, happy for the friends and family we have, and to be happy just to be alive. So I beg of you all….” tears couldn’t help but escape him. His youngest son of age fifteen walked up and gave his dad a hug, giving him support to continue. “I beg you all to live life well and appreciate all the good things in life… that’s what Joey would have wanted for us.” With that he broke down, hugging his youngest son. His wife got up and hugged him as well with tenderness. Seeing the family like this brought tears to everyone’s eyes.

  Joey wanted to run up and hug his family. He longed to hold them all close to him. He wanted to scream to them that he was right there, but he knew it would all be in vain. They wouldn’t hear him, so there would be no point in even trying. He turned from his mourning family, and stopped to see Christen crying as well. That broke his heart. Joey fell to his knees before her.

  “Christen, don’t cry,” Eric muttered, glancing at the girl standing next to him who was sobbing rather hard. She looked up at him, wiping away her tears with the back of her hands.

  “I’m trying not to,” she whispered back to him, muffled by the sobs that were choked down in her throat. He sighed, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, a hand pulling her head to his lapel. She cried into his chest for a while before it eventually died down.

  Joey looked up and saw Christen’s hand still gripping the ring. He knew she had to let go. There was a selfish part of him that wanted her to keep holding onto it. He didn’t want to leave her and his family behind. He wanted to stay with them for as long as he could, but he knew that it would make everyone miserable…especially Christen. He couldn’t let them live in such misery. Another reason dawned in the back of his head when he heard his brother calling.

  “The longer you stay here, the more uncontrollable your powers become. The more uncontrolled you become, the more likely you will turn into an angry spirit.” His voice echoed in his mind. No, he couldn’t turn into that angry spirit. He loved them all too much. Who would be so selfish and do that to the people that they cared about?

  When it came to the end, everyone had to say their good-byes. Christen and Joey were the last to leave before they buried him.

  “Well, I guess you never got a chance to read my letter, huh?” Eric asked him, though he knew there wouldn’t be an answer. “Or you wouldn’t have returned in a body bag,” he sighed, rubbing his head. “Guess I wanted to say thank you, Joey. I regret not getting a chance to say that to you,” he tells him before turning back to Christen. Joey frowned at him.

  "Thank you? For what?" Joey asked himself. “I read the letter, Eric; I just didn’t get a chance to reply though,” he murmured, knowing it was impossible to talk to him, all the same.

  Christen and Joey took each other’s spot and it was her turn as she stood over his coffin, holding the ring tighter. She needed it close to her. She was afraid if she were to just let it go, Joey’s memory would just up and fade away from her. If she got rid of the ring, then would she be ridding herself of Joey? She didn’t want to let go of her true love. She didn’t want to let go of her soul mate.

  “Joey come back to me,” she pleaded to him. Joey clenched a hand to his heart. He would come back to her if he could. They would live out the plans they had created if he were allowed to return, but he wasn’t. He couldn’t. He had to speak to her no matter what, so he took a deep breath and tried to whisper to her.

  “Christen, let me go,” he whispered in her ear. Christen straightened up as she swore she heard whispering. Joey was relieved he was able to break through.

  “Let him go?” She thought for a moment to herself.

  “I want you to be happy, can’t you see?” he whispered to her, ghostly tears rolling down his face as he spoke.

  Christen looked up to the sky. Was that what he wanted? He was always a selfless soul, and it made sense that he would wish her to move on. It would hurt, she knew, but something made her decide to let go.

  “For you, I will try to be happy,” she whispered.

  Christen opened the coffin just barely to give him the ring back. Joey placed his arms around her, not caring if it went through her or not. She straightened up from a chill that went down her spine before she dropped the ring. Once it fell out of her hands, she took a step back with a heavy breath; going right through Joey whom she was still unaware was there.

  “Joey, be happy. Please, rest in peace.” With that she turned away from the gravesite. She shut her eyes tightly as tears streamed down her face. She slowly walked away, giving one more glance over her shoulder as his casket disappeared under the ground.

  Joey watched them leave with a sigh, "Oh Christen......Christen." The pain in his chest reverberated throughout his ghostly form. He thought this would be last time he would see his beloved. The thoughts of never smelling her hair, watching her laugh, kissing her lips or seeing her create her beautiful work brought him to his knees. He wailed after his lost Christen who had already disappeared with Eric. Anger stirred deep in his soul. Suddenly fear consumed him. He reached through the coffin and grabbed the ring, which surprisingly didn’t go through him.

  “Joey, don’t be selfish,” he groaned, but then sighed. "No… I don’t want to be forgotten; besides… what if there is another way?" he reasoned to himself. Joey flew to Eric’s house while Eric drove Christen home.

  Joey beat Eric home, getting into the house just as Roxie and her friends walked out the door. He mused on the lady, Roxie. She was really something. He remembered meeting her a few times; she was rather funny, though very straight forward. For Eric, she was perfect for him.

  Joey managed to pick up a piece of paper. After some thought, the note Eric had sent him popped into his hand from thin air. "I guess being dead has its perks," he joked to himself. He grinned and wrote on the piece of paper, writing a sentence or two before placing it in the envelope with Eric’s letter. He went into Eric’s roo
m and placed it on the night table with the ring on top of it.

  As if on time, Eric unlocked the door. Joey went to the corner and waited to see his reaction. Eric first checked the table where Roxie had left a note for him to read.

  Eric,

  I went with the girls to pick out the outfits for the next performance.

  Don’t wait up; there is some food I cooked in the fridge.

  And call me if you need me for anything. Wish you would let me be there for you.

  I’m sorry for your loss honey. Love you.

  ~Roxie

  Eric rubbed the back of his head. He really needed to talk to her, but he knew he would have to get over it. He sighed and headed into his room. "Ohhh...to just go to bed," he thought. He walked into the room as the door slammed closed behind him. He spun around to find no one there.

  Joey had simply pushed the door closed, not meaning to slam it shut. His eyes widened; he didn’t know he was so strong.

  “Stupid wind,” Eric mutters to himself, sitting on his bed before glancing at his night stand. He sat there in a surprised shock. The letter he had sent to Joey months ago laid on his night stand. The ring, he clearly saw Christen put into the coffin, was sitting right on the letter. “W-what is this?” He rubbed his eyes, swearing he was seeing things, but once he moved his hands from his eyes there the envelope and ring sat, nearly mocking him. He slowly reached over to grip the letter. Sweat rolled down the back of his neck as he opened it. His other hand caught the ring, and placed it back on the night stand. His letter was in the envelope along with another that he was sure he didn’t add with it. He opened the other letter, and felt like all the blood drained from his body as he read it.

  Eric,

  Take care of her. I’ll be watching to make sure you do.

  Eric glanced around the room. Was this some sort of bad joke? “Roxie!?!?" he angrily questioned in the room. His eyes fixed back onto the chicken-scratch scrawl that he knew to be Joey's hand-writing. "Joey!?" he uttered in sheer disbelief. Joey tried to say "yes", but there was no reply; only a chill that rolled down Eric’s back as he sat in the silence. His hand shook, placing the letter back where he found it. He slowly lay down, staring at the ceiling. He didn’t know what to think. He never was one to believe in ghost stories or anything unrealistic but… he didn’t know what to think. Maybe sleep, he thought. "Maybe I’m just exhausted and I’m seeing things," he nodded his head. "That must be it," he thought as his eyes shut. Joey smiled slightly before heading to Christen’s place.

  Christen wandered into her apartment, kicking off her shoes. “Joey.” She murmured, collapsing onto her sofa. She laid there on her stomach with a deep sigh, staring at a picture of her and Joey that sat on her table. She reached for the picture, grasping it with a fragile care. She rolled over so she was lying on her back, staring at it.

  She remembered that day like it was yesterday. It was one of the rare hang-outs where Eric was not even there, just her and Joey. They had gone to a fair that came into town and rode on the roller coasters. They played fair games, ate plenty of cotton candy, and even went through the "tunnel of love". She smiled at the memory.

  There was one game she remembered vividly. It was destined that Joey would win. It was a shooting game. Even though she didn’t want to admit to it, he was a good shot. He was determined to win the giant pink cat that Christen was giggling about all night, and that’s exactly what he did. He got double the amount of balloons he needed to shoot in the time limit. The man handed them the stuffed animal which Christen named Mr. SnugglePaws.

  Joey rolled his eyes at such a name muttering, “You really expect me to call it that?” Christen looked at him, batting her eyes.

  “Yes, now say his name five times,” she giggled.

  “Do I have to?” Christen just gave Joey a look. He sighed knowing the answer. He crossed his arms over his chest muttering, “Mr.SnugglePaws.” He looked at her with an annoyed look. She stared at him, waiting for him to continue. “Seriously, Christen?”

  “Joey! Four more times,” she whined childishly as Joey groaned.

  "Oh fine. Mr.SnugglePaws,” he grumbled but smiled slightly as Christen got closer, snuggling the stuffed animal in her arms. He said it again. “Mr. SnugglePaws.” Christen leaned up and kissed his cheek with a giggle. He chuckled as well. “Mr. SnugglePaws.” Christen rubbed her nose against his as he said the name one more time. “Mr. Snuggle, ah screw it. Just kiss me already,” he said softly as he felt her breath near. Their lips touched, and it felt as if time stopped.

  After that, is when the picture was taken in the cute pink swan they had ridden in through the "tunnel of love". She was kissing his cheek while he was smiling hugely, giving the camera a thumbs up. Mr. SnugglePaws was nestled right between them. She missed him so much and his goofy ways.

  “Why did you have to take him away from me?” she asked suddenly, staring up at the ceiling. “We had so much to do, so much to prove,” she sighed deeply before sitting up. She looked at her canvas sitting there, waiting to be painted on. She looked at it softly; she knew she had to make something that would really wow Eric and all the other people who would be visiting his art gallery, but what would she paint?

  “The family.” Joey whispered. Christen looked around quickly as her eyes narrowed in suspicion. She could have sworn she heard a voice whisper to her.

  “Family?” she questioned out loud. She thought about what that could mean, and then it struck her. “Yes, that would make an amazing scene!” she exclaimed, jumping onto her feet. She rushed over, setting her paint and brushes up. She grabbed a pencil and quickly started on the outline of her inspiration.

  Once her outline was complete she started mixing her paint with a few tooth picks. She created a nice variety of warm and earthy tones to work with. After creating her colors, she pulled her hair back in a ponytail and began to paint. She hummed as she started to move the brush in an airy motion. She had the image in her mind, and now all she had to do was put it on the canvas.

  It took her all night and most of the next day to paint her masterpiece, but in the end, it was worth it. She sat on her coffee table, looking at her painting which was earthy, yet very airy and light. She waited until it dried before placing a sheet over it. “Beautiful.” She straightened up as she could have sworn there was a whisper in the air. She felt like a hand just caressed her cheek and then heavy arms wrapped around her shoulders. She looked around but no one was there. She felt a few tears roll down her cheek.

  “Oh Joey,” she said quietly. “Why can’t you just return to me? I miss you.”

  "I'm going to try love. I am so going to try," Joey sighed. He was determined to find a way to return to her, rather than letting her go. With that, he collapsed in exhaustion back to the abyss.

  Chapter 4

  “Awful. Just awful.” Eric sighed heavily. “Do none of you practice the routine? What’s the point of getting beautiful costumes if you can’t even do the performance correctly?” he scolded the showgirls who were on the stage in front of him. They were practicing for the performance for the new gallery wing which would also be Christen's debut. He was disheartened at the rate things were going for the hall's theater show-girls. He was beginning to wonder if he would need something else for the entertainment.

  Roxie stood in the middle of the stage with her back to Eric as she scolded the girls, as well. “Come on girls! This show should be perfect and flawless. This is ridiculous. I say we’ll have extra practice if you guys don’t straighten up. Say goodbye to your social lives.” She narrowed her eyes, looking at each girl individually telling them what they needed to work on. A few got the "you did great" and the "keep it up"; but for the most part, everyone was doing something wrong in Roxie’s and Eric’s eyes.

  “Take ten,” Eric announced as Roxie continued going through the line. The girls all were muttering and whining about how mean Roxie was, or how she was Eric’s favorite. Roxie did show a rather commanding lead in the girls
; but then again, she was one of the stars. Roxie was one of the main attractions, but that was not the reason she acted so harsh. It was the fact that she did work so hard. She practiced every day, and did not like failure. She was a hard working woman, and she was not about to have them ruin it. She also never liked disappointing Eric, even if the feeling didn’t seem to be nearly the same.

  Roxie walked up to Eric on the break, sitting in the seat next to him. She watched him scribble down some note before speaking. “I’ll whip them into shape; no worries about that love,” she stated confidently.

  “I know you will, you always do Roxie. I do appreciate that,” he told her, looking up from his scribbling to look at her with a small smile. He looked exhausted. Even his hair was a bit of a mess. He hadn’t been able to get much sleep the past few days. Work pressure and the funeral were great stressors. Despite that, Eric was having a very difficult time getting the letter that was returned to him with something extra out of his head.

  “It is no problem. You know I’d do pretty much anything for you," she told him with a soft tone. She would always be gentle or careful when comforting Eric. Eric was very composed, but she knew the weaker side of him. She knew how to handle that side as well. “You look exhausted. How about you go home and rest? I’ll worry about the girls.” she suggested, looking up at the stage where some of the girls still stood. They were still whispering to each other the gossip about Roxie and Eric. Eric looked up at the stage thinking about it. His mind was elsewhere anyways. He had a feeling he would still claim it was awful even if there wasn’t one flaw. He looked back at her, taking her hand.