Who: Charlie St. Cloud What: Arrival in Test City. When: Monday, April 13, morning Where: Standing in Test City Cemetery Rating: General Audiences Warnings: He sees dead people. Talk of dying and mention of suicide. Supernatural concepts. Passing mention of an alien spacecraft. Status: Narrative/Complete
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Every day was a gift. It was another sunrise, another high noon, another sunset all where he was living and breathing and keeping his word to Sam on never leaving him alone. Charlie always smiled at the sun as it came through the windows. He was never in a hurry to rush out of bed. Rushing in general wasn't something he was keen on. Life was meant to be savored, not swallowed whole in one bite without even letting a body get a good taste of it.
He noticed he wasn't in his own bed immediately, but the smile didn't slide off his face.
Could be he was dead.
Charlie had been looking forward to death ever since his brother Sam had passed over without him. There was no fear in him for what would happen if he were to kick the proverbial bucket. Accidental death, murder, random act of God, however he went out, Charlie hoped it was without anyone else suffering. He'd caused enough suffering in his life with his choice to drink and drive.
His brother Sam was dead because of him.
Sam would never grow up, never kiss a girl for the first time, never outgrow his hated old cleats, never learn how to really drive, never get married, never make Charlie an uncle, never, never, never.
The list was endless when it came to all the things his brother Sam would never do thanks to him. Charlie had stolen his brother's life. He'd wasted it. Thrown it away as if it weren't worth anything. It was everything he could do to make it through his days without taking his own life to throw it away too because surely his life was worth far, far less than Sam's had been.
He didn't do that though.
Suicide was not the answer.
Living was the answer.
Charlie read the message on the device, his smile widening as he realized he'd have a new population to care for, to guard, to keep company the way he had Sam. It was possible his brother wouldn't make it here. His young spirit might not have the ability to travel between worlds. There were still spirits in this one. Charlie could hear them talking. There was a different tener to their voices than that of a living person's---he called it the dead tone. It was stupid, but it made Sammy laugh which was all that mattered.
Taking himself to the Test City Cemetery, Charlie stood in the center as he looked around the sprawling expanse and waved, "Nice to meet you! I'm Charlie."
Only a few heads turned his direction. Those he made quick notes on to see to it they got the best he could give them -an old woman with sad eyes, a young man with a wicked grin, a winking girl who looked as if she'd love to meet him more informally, a fellow with glasses who seemed irritated at being disturbed- since they all had acknowledged him in turn. It was only fair to start with the ones who were interested.
He found his way to the maintenance shed, took the set of keys which had been with his laptop and other accessories to open it up. Charlie retrieved a large black trash bag along with a set of gardening gloves. He'd start with getting rid of the old flowers, any trash he saw, clean things up with a cursory sweep, and then he'd take that lovely riding lawnmower out for a drive around what was his new neighborhood block.
Some would have been terrified to wake up in this place. Test City didn't scare Charlie St. Cloud. He'd lived, died, and now he was living again alongside the dead. There wasn't much which could rattle him.
Besides.
There was work to be done and dead to be tended to here as much as at home.
It was only a change of place, not a change of pace; Charlie could live with it. The giant hand-shaped green ship in the sky and all, he could live with it. He was actually grateful to have woken up without his shirt. Spaceship aside, he was standing in gorgeous sunlight and there really wasn't anything better than the feeling of sunlight on his skin.
Whistling, Charlie got to work, thinking he'd worry about getting clothes later on. No rest for the living when there was dead to attend.