Scintillant’s name meant sparkling. She owned a white frame house that blended in with the neighborhood—on the outside. On the inside, her home mimicked a mausoleum social club. Jackie dusted corners, wiped the bathroom floor, and threw away an occasional expired jar of mustard.
An invisible dead mouse had interrupted Scintillant during Jackie’s job interview. Not a good omen. She considered saying a quick goodbye and running to her car. Then the strange elderly lady mentioned what she was willing to pay. Jackie couldn’t tell if this job would be an answer to her financial situation or a case study on between a rock and a hard place. Her job at the local grocery provided an occasional coupon bonus, but not enough income to pay rent and a basic cell phone bill.
Her friend Adam had found the position posted on a message board at his church. She told him about the interview, and he laughed. “Keep me posted. I don’t think our church would post dangerous notices. Sounds like the lady is a harmless, antediluvian nut.”
The next week Adam left town to help his foster parents after their house sold. He gave her updates about what he found. A roll of mints that expired in 1997, a newspaper announcing the moon landing on July 20, 1969, and his first baby blanket. She and Adam were best friends, with the same birthday in the same year. She missed him.
Her foster father died on December 25, two years ago. Then the only mother she ever knew passed away two months later. Adam would send a gift by mail. Opening it would bring a few minutes of happiness.
Last week Scintillant was blowing out candles at her dining room table when Jackie arrived at her house. “You missed a heck of a gathering, sweetie. A reconciliation. My grandmother and I had issues. You know what I mean? The lady made the word mean sound sweet. And her father? Good grief. He needed a gag for his mouth. My guests just left.
“Oh, I have the most incredible surprise planned for you next. With special guests. You have to be here Christmas Eve.”
A surprise. Jackie was certain she could wait. The day before Christmas arrived anyway.
Now, at 6 PM Jackie pulled her car key out of the ignition. She lingered in the driver’s seat. “I promised to do this. Don’t know why, but I did. A Christmas séance? I would be satisfied with a blender, something that chops vegetables, not reality.”
She glanced into Scintillant’s front window. A round flame appeared. It moved in circles to the right and then to the left.
Please don’t let this be my surprise. I’ll take psycho socks any day. Maybe some kind of explosion is going on.
She opened the door before she realized she had turned the knob.
“Welcome,” Scintillant said from a table decorated with chinaware, goblets of wine, bowls of fruit, and at least ten scented candles.
“What was that?”
“What was what, dear?”
“That blaze! That flashing blaze.”
“Please tell me it didn’t scare you.” Scintillant stood and headed toward the front window where the swirls had slowed but remained bright.
“Of course not. Swirls of fire show up every day. Crosswalks. Parking Lots. Libraries. Nightmares.”
“I’m so sorry. You don’t understand. My thin world is natural to me. I forget that most people don’t have everyday conversations with the dearly departed. Please, come to the other side of the table. I will hold your hand. Sometimes something that appears frightening at first can bring joy when it is understood.”
Jackie gasped. “You are talking to someone who doesn’t ride on roller coasters.”
“There is comfort in my palm. Take a large dose.”
Jackie wondered if she would wake up any moment and this strange moment would disappear. She accepted Scintillant’s right hand. Immediately she quieted. The swirls of light left the front window. The lights joined and hovered above the group.
“Our visitor is someone you have never met. Your brother hasn’t either. She is sad about it.”
“My brother?”
“Your twin brother, Adam.”
“What?”
“Your birth mother wants to meet you.”
“Adam? Does he know? And is that fiery thing…?”
“Your mother. Yes. And people aren’t things you know. Maybe you need to ask her, not me.”
The fire gradually took on the shape of a woman with short, dark hair. “My name is Ellen. I knew I wasn’t going to live long after you and Adam were born. Your father was never in the picture. Scintillant made it possible for me to meet you. I led Adam to bring you here, although he didn’t know it at the time. No one else at his church could see the posting on the board.”
“Adam, does he know?”
“He is finding out while he gets his mom and dad into a suitable senior apartment. And no, Scintillant and I were sneaky about that part. He will discover who I am before the end of the year. When he comes home again, well, let the path be ready for you then.”
“Now, time to dine,” Scintillant said. “We have another guest from the next world. An angel. She has been working as a messenger. Above definition in one sense. Like love. Sometimes she is found serendipitously. Turn around. No grand introduction needed.”
“Greetings. Human tongues can’t pronounce my name. It doesn’t matter. I will let my work speak instead.”
The dinner for the living included fruits, vegetables, and nuts. The angel and Ellen inhaled rainbow vapors from bowls. After the meal, the deceased offered some of their flavors to Scintillant and Jackie for dessert. Jackie tasted assurance that she would have a long life, like a copious flavor, hidden inside all she had known, remembered but not recognized.
“By the way, you aren’t inside a dream,” Scintillant told her. “It will be Christmas in a few minutes. I hope you enjoy our gift. It has barely begun.”
“My gift?”
“You,” the angel answered. “The gift is finding you. Merry Christmas.”
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