Chapter Fifteen

"Wake up, you sleep long enough," Madam Zinga's voice broke through Wyatt's strange dreams.

He had felt so many physical sensations in his dreams. Hot, cold, fatigue, soreness... Things he had not felt since his death. He opened his eyes and sat up with a start. It took him a moment to realize he was still in the same stone room he had laid down in.

The first thing he noticed was that he was sweating in his heavy uniform. Sweating? He hadn't sweated since...... He jumped to his feet and looked down at himself. There was no blood, no evidence of the wound that Madam Zinga had inflicted on him.

"Am I..."

"Yes, you're alive," Madam Zinga replied, cutting him off. Wyatt nodded and instantly walked over to the tall Victorian mirror in the corner. When he saw his reflection again for the first time in one hundred and fifty years he nearly let out a cry of shock. He had forgotten what he looked like. He ran his fingers over his face and Madam Zinga snorted, "Yes, yes you are very handsome," she said. "I gave you what you wanted. In this time your name is still Wyatt Montgomery but you were born in 1983. Your parents are dead of course according to all of your records. You will find an envelope in your pocket. Inside is a drivers license and a birth certificate. You will need those things to start your new life."

"How long do I have, Madam Zinga? How long will Franny and I have together?"

"Long enough," she said impatiently. Wyatt's eyes scanned the room and he saw the silver dagger hanging on the wall. Whatever that thing was it had given him life back.

"Thank you Madam Zinga," he said and just for the hell of it he hugged the old woman tight.

She patted his back and then pulled away, "Go. Stop wasting what time you have. Find your woman."

Wyatt nodded and like an excited child he took off running for the door, realizing two seconds too late that he could no longer simply pass through it. His face smacked hard against the unforgiving wood and he was sure that through his daze he heard Madam Zinga laugh but when he looked back at her she was straight faced and shaking her head.

"I'm afraid you must open doors now like the rest of us," she informed him.

Wyatt grinned sheepishly, nodded and opened the door before running out as fast as he could. Wyatt was amazed by the warmth of the sun. He didn't even care that he was overheated and sweating as he ran down the streets toward Francine's apartment. He hoped she would be home. It was nearly four o'clock in the afternoon according to the man he had asked and Wyatt knew that Francine had said she always liked to leave work early on Fridays.

It felt so strange to see people and be seen back. The way people kept looking at him confused him at first until he realized the sight he probably made in his full union uniform.

He was standing at a crosswalk waiting for the signal to change when a man and woman caught his attention and the man cleared his throat, "What are you supposed to be, some kind of Civil War actor?"

Wyatt fought the urge to tell the man what he thought about those people but right now he was too happy to think negative thoughts, "Yes. I'm actually in a play and I'm in a hurry so I didn't take the time to change."

"Those weapons look real," the woman added with a sniff.

"They are," Wyatt replied with a shrug and the woman's eyes widened as she pulled the man away from him and they whispered amongst each other. Wyatt didn't ask what was wrong because at that time the signal changed and he was running again. It felt so good to be seen by everyone. To be able to wave and smile and have some of those be returned.

He was sure he would take time later to appreciate these things more but right now all he wanted was to get to Francine. He got to her apartment building and took the stairs up to her floor since he really wasn't sure how to take the elevator.

He took a moment to wipe the sweat from his face and he removed his hat and ran his hand through his damp hair, slicking it back, though a few strands fell back across his brow. Wyatt cleared his throat and then knocked on the door, enjoying the roughness of the wood against his knuckles. Though he'd been able to touch things before he had never actually felt them. Everything he touched and felt now was giving him sensations he hadn't felt in nearly one and a half centuries.

He knocked again and he heard Janice's impatient voice come from inside, "I'm coming! I'm coming! Hold your damn horses."

Wyatt frowned. He didn't have any horses to hold. She opened the door and Wyatt tilted his head and his frowned deepened when her eyes widened and her jaw dropped to the floor.

"Who in the hell are you?" she demanded as her eyes scanned him up and down.

Wyatt grinned, "Your brother from another life."

Janice's blue eyes squinted as she stared at his face and then nearly bugged out of her head as she took a step back and covered her mouth with her hand, "Casper?"

Wyatt nodded and she shook her head. "How.....?"

"It's a long story," he admitted as he looked past her and into the apartment, "Is Franny home?"

"Damn, even your voice is sexy. No wonder she wanted to have ghost sex."

Wyatt felt a blush rise to his face as he rubbed the back of his neck. He had no idea how to reply to a comment like that, "Is Franny home?" he repeated.

Janice shook her head as she moved aside and let him walk in, "She's at her parents for the weekend, she left this morning," Janice replied. "You are hot," she added.

Wyatt nodded in agreement as he felt a bead of sweat trickle down his back, "I had forgotten how hot this uniform is."

"That's not exactly what I meant," Janice said dryly. She motioned for Wyatt to sit down on the couch and he did. She glared at him as she flopped down beside him. "Now why don't you explain to me why you broke my best friends heart, what the hell you're doing here and why I can see you." Wyatt explained to her what he had read in Francine's journal, he explained his reasons behind leaving and he explained to her what had happened with Madam Zinga, though he left out the part about having limited time. He figured that was something he needed to talk to Francine about before he told anyone else.

"I'll tell you what, she is going to be happy to see you. She's been a mess all week," Janice said as she propped her feet up on the table.

Wyatt sighed and laid his head back on the couch as he felt his heart break a little, "I never wanted to hurt her, Janice. I just didn't want her wasting her life on a ghost."

"She didn't consider it a waste," Janice countered. "Well I'm guessing you want to go to her. It's a three and a half hour drive and you need some different clothes so we better head out."

"I don't have any money," Wyatt said. "Other than this."

He reached in his pocket and pulled out a handful of confederate money he had stolen during the war off of dead confederate soldiers. He had thought at the time that it would be something interesting to take home and show to his family once the war was over and then after he died it was just one of the many things that no matter how many times he got rid of it, it was always back when he woke up.

"I think you and I need to go to the pawn shop, Wyatt. We need to go to that fancy one on fifth. You might be surprised how much all of your stuff is worth."

She got him a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that one of her 'friends' had once left at the apartment. The pants were a little too short and the t-shirt was far too small across the shoulders so he had kept his white shirt on instead.

"That should be illegal," Janice said as she packed all of Wyatt's weapons, belongings and uniform into a large bag.

"What should?"

"Having shoulders that broad," Janice replied as she eyed him and shook her head.

Wyatt grinned, "Having broad shoulders was not a good thing back in the war. They always chose me to be on the teams pushing the cannons and heavy equipment up the hills and mountains."

"But you must have had fun at the brothels," Janice replied as she handed him the big bag full of things and he slid the strap over his shoulder.

"My mama would have tanned my hide if I'd a gone to places like that," he denied.

Janice laughed, "Well let's get going. Do you want to use my cell phone to call Francine and tell her that you're coming?" she asked as she led Wyatt out of the apartment and toward the elevator.

Wyatt shook his head, "I'd rather just surprise her in person."

Janice nodded as they waited on the elevator door to open, "You do know this means you'll be meeting her parents don't you?"

"That was on her list. Think they'll like me?"

"You do realize she wrote that list like ten years ago?"

"And you do realize that she's going to have every single thing she wants even if it's the last thing I do, don't you?"

"I'm going to go to a séance once I get you to Francine," Janice said with a sigh as the elevator doors opened with a ding.

"Why?" Wyatt asked as they stepped in and the doors closed. He worked hard to hide his nervousness at being in this moving coffin. He'd have rather taken the stairs.

"Because I need a Casper of my own."

***

"Eighteen thousand dollars......" Wyatt said as they got back in Janice's bronco. His mind was still reeling. That was more money than he had ever heard of being in one place.

"It's not as much as it sounds like in this day and time, Casper," Janice said with a light laugh as she brought the old Bronco to life. "Now that you have some money it's time to get you some clothes that fit you right."

Wyatt could hardly contain his nerves. He wanted to get started on the trip to south eastern Kentucky and his Francine but Janice insisted that he couldn't show up for a weekend at Francine's parents house without any clothes or belongings.

They walked into the mall and Wyatt stared in awe at all the different stores. Janice walked on ahead and didn't realize that she had lost Wyatt. She looked over her shoulder, expecting to see him there but he wasn't. She turned quickly and saw him staring into a salon. She walked back to him and followed his gaze. She laughed out loud when she realized he was watching a man getting a manicure.

"Men do that now?" he asked as he looked down at his own calloused and work roughened hands.

"No, not real men... Only the Gregory's of the world," Janice said as she patted him on the shoulder. "God you are rock hard aren't you?"

Wyatt frowned and stepped away from her, "I belong to Franny," he reminded her.

Janice sighed wistfully, "I know.... Hence the reason I am holding a séance tonight."

Wyatt just shook his head and ran his hand through his hair. Janice moaned as if in pain, "Francine is such a lucky little tramp. You have perfect bad boy rock star hair. Look at the way it falls across your forehead and the back of it just barely falls below the collar of your shirt, making you look just a little wild and unkempt."

"Why don't we just find some clothes so I can go find Franny?"

Janice pursed her lips together and pointed her finger up at his face, "You are not nice."

"I'm your brother remember?"

"Thought no sister of yours would have worked in a brothel?"

"You were always the black sheep of the family."

***

After walking through several stores without finding anything that interested him, Wyatt caught sight of a country/western attire store that seemed much more his style.

Janice flipped her hair, "You go, country boy. I'll meet you in thirty minutes out by that giant brass hippo that for some God awful reason children like to climb on."

Wyatt remembered the hippo that had been at the entrance to the mall and nodded. It didn't take long for him to find five pairs of pants and five thin flannel patterned shirts that fit him. He couldn't believe how nice it felt to wear something other than that damn uniform and fabrics sure had come a long way toward being more comfortable in the last one hundred and fifty years.

He couldn't help but notice that the sales clerk, a blond in a short gray skirt and blue blouse that showed off her very noticeable assets, seemed very happy about measuring him and finding his size.

She had even slipped him a paper with her phone number on it which he had politely declined with a tip of his brand new Stetson hat. He hadn't worn a Stetson since he'd left home back in 1861 and it felt good to have one on again.

He left the store and hurried toward the giant brass hippo. To him it looked awful dangerous to let kids climb on that eyesore but maybe kids had gotten tougher since his day. He looked around for Janice and then his eyes narrowed when he caught sight of her currently in the middle of a group of four rough looking men. Their pants were hanging off their hips making Wyatt wonder if perhaps they couldn't afford belts. Their white t-shirts were ten sizes too big and they were swaggering around and leering at Janice.

"I said no, you idiots, now if you don't get out of my way I'll have to scream," Janice said angrily.

"Come on, sweet cheeks. A woman don't dress like you unless she's wanting some attention," One of the men said as he reached out and ran his hand over Janice's pink and blond hair.

Janice was angry. She jerked her head away and smacked the man hard across his left cheek. His eyes filled with anger but then all four men seemed to think twice about messing with her and they backed up a little. Janice felt very proud of herself and her self defense skills until she heard a throat clear behind her. She turned to see Wyatt standing there looking every bit like an angry cowboy, ready to take this party outside.

His blue and white thin flannel patterned shirt was tucked into a pair of Levis that seems to have been made just for him and his long muscular legs. His shirt was unbuttoned up top and she could see the hint of a dusting of dark hair across his broad chest. His sleeves were rolled up on his forearms revealing thick, corded muscle The black stetson hat on his head created shadows across his sculpted face but his green eyes still shown with an angry glint beneath it. Janice would have swooned if swooning was her thing. Francine was a lucky woman and Janice understood completely why her friend had wanted Wyatt even as a ghost.

"Is there a problem here?" Wyatt asked.

"Yeah there's a problem," the ringleader of the group said with a grunt and then he looked Wyatt up and down, covered his mouth with his hand and laughed. "What the hell you supposed to be, some kind of rodeo clown?"

"I'm not sure what that is," Wyatt replied with a shrug. "What I am sure of is that the way you were speaking to my sister here wasn't the way a man is supposed to talk to a lady."

The ringleader held up his hands in mock surrender as his buddies laughed, "Oh forgive me! But from where I'm looking your sister don't look much like a lady." Then without warning the ringleader threw a punch at Wyatt.

Janice wanted to shout out a warning but before she could, Wyatt had crouched down and dodged the mans fist. His leg swung out and caught the man across the ankles bringing him down on the ground, flat on his back. Wyatt stood straight and put his brand new boot on the mans throat, "What about from where you're looking now?"

The other three men acted as if they wanted to run to their friends rescue until Wyatt threw them a look that would have frozen hell and they stepped back.

"Sorry man.... We didn't mean no harm," the man on the ground gasped.

Wyatt moved his foot and took Janice by the arm, "Come on little sister," he urged and Janice stuck her tongue out at the four men before hurrying along after him.

"For future instances like that could you at least pretend to be my jealous boyfriend or something?" she asked once they were outside.

"No," Wyatt replied as he led her toward the Bronco.

Janice huffed and shook her head, "Why can't all men be like you?"

"You mean nearly two-hundred years old and set in his ways, which apparently are out of date and not the way people act anymore?" Wyatt asked with a grin as he opened the driver door of the Bronco for her.

Janice gave him an odd look as she climbed in and he shut her door. She had never once had a man open a car door for her, unless of course he was hoping to get laid which she knew that Wyatt wasn't.

She stuck her head out the open window and nodded, "Yes. Exactly like that."