Afterlife: Pixie and Dori: The Show Must Go On

[x-welshpixie.livejournal.com]

Pixie never thought she’d list a historical cemetery among her sites visited in New York, but here she was. Woodlawn Cemetery was really quite beautiful and, well, peaceful. With Memorial Day coming up, there were little American flags decorating some of the graves, and bouquets of red and white flowers too. Birds chirped and danced between the boughs of old oaks and fir trees. Squirrels skittered across the ground. She was used to seeing small parks scattered around the city, but this was huge.

“So, we just need to find Marcos’ grave around here somewhere,” she said to Dori as she checked Google Maps on her phone. The place really was vast. She zoomed out as far as she could and still see the street names around them. It took up the entire screen, with a blue patch indicating a lake that was inside the cemetery.

“Oh... well, I guess we need to find where the older graves are first,” she added, frowning. “Should we ask someone?”

“I dunno,” Dori said, giving Monkey Joe something to munch on from his spot on her shoulder, “I mean, it’s not like these places come with tour guides. ….Do they?” she hadn’t exactly spent much time in cemeteries ever now that she thought about it.

“Hey, it says here that there’s over 300,000 people buried here and 1,300 private mausoleums.” She looked up from her phone again. “We could call the phone number listed? That could be a reception area over there. Or maybe it’s the crematory.” Pixie felt completely out of her element, and she was anxious to get the annoying ghost off her hands.

“Yeah, let’s try there. Maybe they’ll have a better map if nothing else,” Doreen said, looking around, “Because this place is really, really huge.”

“Marcos, Marcos, where are you buried?” Pixie mumbled in a sing-song tone as the girls headed towards the nearby building. Inside, there was a marble counter and a little silver bell. Pixie pushed it and waited to someone to appear.
A perfectly coifed dark-haired woman wearing a stylish red dress stepped out from an office, giving the two women a pleasant but almost inherently sympathetic smile.

“My name is Linda, can I help you?” she said.
The moment after she said it Marcos popped his head out from behind her peering over her shoulder.

“Ah...Linda...the love of my afterlife! She is very fine, wouldn’t you say?” he said, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek. The result gave the woman a shudder.

“Oh my it’s cold in here.”
Marcos grinned.

“She can give you a map. Tell her you are some of my fans from the circus.”

“Um...hi,” Doreen started, “I’m Dori and this is Megan and we were wondering if you could tell us where someone is buried. You can do that right?” she asked, trying to keep her tail somewhat out of sight.

“Why of course,” Linda said. She had a poise and calmness to her that lent very well to her job.

“Who are you looking for?”

“Marcos the <i>Magnificent</i>,” replied Pixie cheerfully. “Ah, also known as Marcos Deldago,” she added after a moment’s thought, mentally going through the notes she had gathered so far. “He was a circus performer in New York in the 1950’s and he died, ah, in a certain year...” she looked to Dori, but hoped Marcos would answer so she could repeat what he said.

“Magnificent....ah, I like that,” Marcos said with a cheesy grin as he put his hand to his heart before shaking his head.

“Oh....1958,” he added.
“It was a beautiful funeral, I must say.”

“Um, he passed away in 1958. We’re, uh, doing a paper on him,” because that sounded believable. Right? Right? Dori hoped so. Anyway, this had to be done.

Linda tilted her head curiously before smiling. “You must know your history, then,” she said, then pulled out a large map of the cemetery and a red pen, circling the plot on the map.

“When you go out the doors, take a left and follow the trail until you come to a grove of trees. Mr. Delgado is right near the angel statue.”

“Because I am an angel,” Marcos added, wagging his eyebrows.

“Vamonos ladies!”

Fifteen minutes later, Pixie and Dori stepped off the trail and into the tree-encircled area Linda had circled on the map. Gravel pathway gave way to plush grass. Various statues were set up in this very upscale-looking plot, including a stately looking man holding up some kind of fruit. Pixie tore her gaze from the pineapple, or whatever it was, and spied the angel.

“This is it,” she said, pulling the compact mirror out of her bag. The silver cover was etched with beautiful, interweaving geometric designs that resembled flowers and vines. It had cost them quite a bit to get ahold of it. She looked to Dori. “Should we open it?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Doreen said, standing there. At least the day was nice, but it didn’t make what they were doing there any less weird. “I wonder if we have to say anything? Maybe I should have asked, huh?”

Marcos sat on top of his grave, squinting at the two of them.

“Ah, there you are!” he said, popping up to stand on the grave. He dove off, gracefully tumbling a couple of times before he stood, arms outstretched in a ‘tada!’ gesture before disappearing.

“I would open it but I cannot use my fingers...a ghost, you see,” a voice said suddenly behind them, still Marcos. He was getting quite excited. He was so close to seeing himself again he could almost taste it...like fine sangria.
“Nothing to say, just to do...open it up and we are through!”

He grinned, puffing out his chest as he tugged on the edges of his coat.

“I rhymed, did you like that?” he said, wagging his eyebrows.

Pixie giggled nervously in spite of herself. Somehow it seemed proper that a rhyme be said. She twisted the tiny catch and the compact popped open, catching a ray of sunlight that reflected onto the tombstone. She held her breath...
Pixie opened her eyes after a moment. “Did it work?” she asked, blinking, not realizing she had closed her eyes.

“I dunno,” Doreen admitted, “Did it?” she opened her own eyes and looked around.

Marcos caught a glimpse of himself if the mirror, the flash of sunlight momentarily creating a burst of color like he was whole again. He touched his fingers to his face, smiling genuinely before looking back to the ladies.

“Muchas gracias,” he said, giving them a bow before a soft breeze that had once been making the leaves dance blew his way and took him with it. He faded away.

“It worked! We did it, Dori!” Pixie exclaimed. Her cheer faded a bit, though, and she felt a tiny bit sad. “He’s at rest now, right? He put on a good show about... being dead and all. But... it can’t have been easy to go through that.”

“Yeah,” Doreen said, “I think so. I mean, he couldn’t have been very happy being stuck as a ghost like that. So... I think that’s it. Want to go get some ice cream or something?” she said turning to Pixie, “I think we’ve earned it.”