Episode 12 of Bite of the Amphis

I caught up with my father as he was leaving the lodge where my body was laid out and for the following twenty-four hours I dogged his every step, trying to communicate with him in every way I could possibly think of.
I tried whispering in his ear as the spirit walker in the parable of Anyak and the Seven Steps had, but he just turned and walked straight through me leaving me feeling nauseous and dizzy once again.
I tried for a couple of frustrating hours to lift a piece of charcoal from the cold remnants of the fire, but no matter how I tried my ghostly fingers just kept passing straight through.
I tried shouting and screaming, but although I discovered that my new spirit form vocal cords didn’t tire at all, it was crystal clear that volume didn’t matter one bit when trying to communicate with the living from the other side of the veil.
The daylight hours flew past far too quickly, and as the sky turned red overhead I still wasn’t any closer to a solution.
I had discovered something about my unusual new state in the process though while trying to knock a ceramic pot off of the mantle over the fire in order to get his attention. I tried to push the pot off of the shelf time and again, but with every single attempt, just as they had with the charcoal, my fingers passed straight on through without so much as making the stubborn pot wobble.
When I finally gave up in frustration though, throwing my head down onto my folded arms where they rested on the mantle, something truly amazing happened. The movement caused my arm to shift a couple of centimetres across the shelf and by some miracle, my elbow caught the pot and sent it crashing into pieces on the hard floor.
I jigged around the room, whooping and giggling like a crazy person for a moment or two, but my exhilaration lasted only as long as it took my father, clearly still totally unaware of my presence, to sombrely pick up all of the sharp pieces of broken pot and dispose of them.
The other downside to knowing I could affect things only if I wasn’t actively trying to do so, was that now, armed with that knowledge, I found it utterly impossible to do anything at all ‘accidentally.’
Seemingly out of other options I chose, instead, to spend some time with my father. He seemed so terribly sad. It was torturous that I couldn’t figure out a way to tell him I was ok, or at least as okay as a rather confused, disembodied spirit could be.
I may not have been able to tell him, but it appeared that my presence helped to calm him some and after a while, he finally fell asleep in front of the newly lit fire.
“I wonder?” My father had always insisted that, even though my mother was gone from this world, he still spoke to her in his dreams and told her all about me and how proud he was of the beautiful young lady I was becoming. What if, instead of just being a lovely tale to tell to your grieving daughter, there was some grain of truth in what he said? What if my mother had visited him while he was asleep and if so, could I somehow do the same?
Quickly kneeling by the side of his chair, worried that at any minute he would wake and my chance to find out would be gone, I lent in close to his ear and tried whispering to him again.
“Father. It’s me, Amara. Can you hear me?” He shifted and murmured in his sleep and a tentative spark of renewed excitement flared to life in my chest.
“I’m still here Father, I haven’t crossed over and I don’t know how to. I need your help” Another mumble and this time to my delight I could even make out my name. It was working!
Just as I was about to try for a third time, there was a loud knock on the door. I would have screamed right then, except it would have been pointless as no one could even hear me.
Blinking bleary eyes, my father pushed himself to his feet and walked over to the door, pulling it open to reveal Kiamo’s stern looking figure, bathed in the flickering light of the tallow torch which he held.

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