The Talent
THE TALENT
“Margaret! I didn’t expect to see you on my schedule today.” Cas immediately stood as if to gather his things. “Is something the matter? I’m just about to go to a meeting. I can help you make an appointment if-”
“I know you’re free right now, Mr. Casper, I just spoke with your assistant.”
Cas glared at Kate through the glass windows of his office. Kate knew that was coming, shrugged, and mouthed “I’m sorry.”
“My ten o’clock must have canceled. Alright, Margaret, have a seat. How can I help you this evening?”
Margaret sat, the white folds of her sheet swishing and catching on the arms of the chair. “I need a better agent,” she said. “I know Ms. Madison is trying, but I just cannot keep doing these ridiculous slumber party hauntings. Her next assignment for me involves a family curse in which every time a child looks in the mirror, they see a ghost. I can’t live in mirrors for the next century, Mr. Casper. It’s so Disney. I am done with child hauntings!”
“But you’re so good at them, Margaret, the children get so spooked and upset! We’ve had numerous reports of families moving house because of you. Property values just skyrocket once there’s a haunted house in the neighborhood. You should be proud!” Cas smiled the smile of a teacher telling their student to be proud of a C+ and the ‘effort’ she put into it.
“That’s all well and good for the living in those neighborhoods. But I am better than… than… haunting children.”
“Margaret! I made my own career out of entertaining children, they’re great for our business!”
“Yes, yes, Mr. Casper, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… Look, when I finally realized I couldn’t haunt on my own anymore, I came straight to Ghost Artists Agency because of your success. You’ve single handedly brought us all into the limelight.”
“Well, thank you, Margaret. So you’ll just have to trust that I know what’s best for-”
“Mr. Casper, I need better. I want to be on the silver screen. I want my chance. Will you represent me?”
“Oh, um…” Cas shot a glance at Kate who he knew was listening through the intercom. Eyes wide, she looked as shocked as he felt. He looked down at his hands, pencils on his desk, the view of Elysian Gardens outside, anywhere but at the white sheet in front of him as he tried to think of a tactful response. “You know, there are some agents in the Y.A. Division that just love your vintage talent. That demographic would surely provide ample opportunity to feel good about your work.”
“Unacceptable, Mr. Casper. Lady in White, Ghost, The Others, Being Human, that’s what I want.”
Cas released a heavy, 30-year-old sigh. “Alright, Margaret. Despite my reputation, sometimes I may be… unkind. I apologize in advance if this comes across as rude. Your ghost outfit… it’s just… well, it’s just outdated. Adults aren’t scared of or amused by flowing sheets anymore. Your refusal to remove it hinders your ability to move out of children’s hauntings.”
“I see,” Margaret whispered, the top of the white sheet pointing downward.
“I ditched my whites ages ago, Margaret. It’s not scary. If you want the big screen, you’ll have to ditch the security blanket.”
“Hmph,” the sheet bounced. “You want scary?” Margaret asked as she stood. She pulled the sheet off for the first time in 70 years.
Cas screamed and flew under his desk. What in the hell was that? Embarrassed, Cas slowly peaked over his desk at Margaret. “Is that really you?”
“Yes,” Margaret croaked through a mouth that was half shear bone. She was missing an eye, covered in blood, clothes were mere rags hanging from her flaking skin.
“Margaret, this is incredible. How did that happen?”
“My husband and I had a flat tire back in 1917. After he had fixed it, I cranked the car up. The crank backfired and broke my jaw, skin came flying off. I fell backward just as another car was driving by. This,” she looked down and gestured with both hands, “is the result.”
“I see, Mar-”
“I loved my husband so much, I couldn’t leave him. But I was so embarrassed by my death and how I looked, I grabbed this sheet from the linen closet, covered myself and stayed with him in the house until he passed. When he finally did, he saw how I really looked, and he left me. I mean, who wouldn’t! I’m awful… So you see, Mr. Casper, I need to be… I need to be famous. I still love my husband, and I want him back. He needs to know I can be successful. But look at me, Mr. Casper. I’m such a fright.”
“You’re bloody terrifying! Margaret, this changes everything, Kate, could you ask La Llorona to come in here?”
“La Llorona? She’s… Oh my goodness, Mr. Casper she represents so many famous ghosts, not least of which, all of the ladies in white. She’s a legend!”
“Yes, she’s fantastic. Ah, here she is. Señora, do you have room for Ms. Margaret? She’s looking for new representation.”
“Que maravillosa,” La Llorona breathed as she gazed at Margaret. “You are lovely, Margaret,” she said. “You are perfect.”
Margaret didn’t really know what was happening, but she immediately felt understood and powerful with La Llorona. “Perfect for what?”
“We have an opening. One of our ladies decided to retire.” La Llorona put her arm around Margaret’s waist and took her hand. As she started walking her out of Cas’s office, she asked, “Have you heard of Bloody Mary?”
Note: This is for the September submission to Fictionistas. The Prompt: protagonist is a person in love who is also a ghost; story must include a family curse; must include “flat tire.” Check the full post here.
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