Advice From A Dead Stripper

By Ellen Jayne

A rural Pennsylvania town unknowingly hides Catherine Richardson from her dangerous ex-boyfriend, until her location is revealed by meeting Susan, an exotic dancer who’s beautiful, witty and -- dead. Logical, straight-laced Catherine never believed in ghosts, until now. In fact, she’ll do anything to silence the big-mouthed stripper, even take Susan's advice.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ellen Jayne
• Release date: Sep 15, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452372778

Ellen Jayne

Stories, and the art of telling them, have always captured my interest. I began telling tales at a really young age, and never stopped. In the last few years I decided to write them down, as the characters I spend time with wouldn't have it any other way.A resurfacing theme in my writing is questioning the perception of reality. Always consistent, whether people believe in paranormal or supernatural occurrences or not, they will make time to listen to an eerie story. Of course, the reasons for listening are varied, but the conversation that follows never fails to be lively.With an undergraduate degree in Fine Arts/Art History and a graduate degree in Creative Writing, Advice From A Dead Stripper is my first novel.

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Advice From A Dead Stripper

Ellen Jayne

Published by Ellen Jayne at Smashwords

Copyright 2010 Ellen Jayne

htpp://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ellenjayne

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Chapter 1

The atmosphere of the day spa was so different when she opened up in the morning. In the twelve hours of emptiness the space had forgotten its purpose. It needed the first forty-five minutes of the day to be reminded, jump started and called back into service. It needed Catherine Richardson’s help.

She flipped the switch of the three major lights, removing the austerity from the large building. Each step in the opening process made the space more inviting. With wax pots turned on, steamers and hot towel cabbies filled, Catherine armed herself with a camping lighter and proceeded to add ambiance with a flicker of flame. The signature candle had a rich, woodsy scent and instantly evoked relaxation.

She selected a spicy, aromatic tea with a blend of cinnamon, clove and cardamom with just a hint of vanilla to temper its flavor. Fresh citrus was added to a smaller pitcher of spring water. Today was a day for hot tea. With the chill outside the water would go untouched.

Lastly, she turned on the music, a compilation of relaxing melodies and sounds, chiming bells, soft melodic chants, steel drums and wooden flutes. The riffs were transporting and occasionally a familiar song would catch Catherine’s breath, steal it from her lungs and transport her back in time. The memory of his deep blue eyes was able to make her heart skip. The voice she dreaded on the other end of her cell phone that rang uninterrupted, until she answered. Caught in the past, she would forget to breathe, and only the sound of her lungs demanding air forced her into the present. Finally, the far away look that people often commented on gradually left her hazel eyes.

Fridays were synonymous with regular clients, but today was different. An unexpected snow storm had surprised everyone. She checked a voicemail box full of excuses: no daycare, impassable driveways, and complaints of flu-like symptoms. After checking next week’s schedule, she rebooked the cancelled appointments.

If the snow had come later, or if the spa had opened later, the day would have gone on uninterrupted. She sighed, replacing the telephone in its cradle, knowing that within a couple of hours the sun would dissolve the snow, and the telephone would ring off the hook. It wouldn’t even surprise her if the same clients who cancelled earlier called to get another time slot. Late-season snow storms were short lived; the ground was too warm to hold the chill. Without clients the morning wouldn’t be the same, and the space never really warmed until the guests arrived.

The telephone’s ring cut through the serenity. On the second ring she took a deep breath, and on the third, she cleared her throat before pressing line one. It was Alicia, the spa manager, and her familiar voice eased the flutter in Catherine’s chest. She had reviewed the cancellations on line and contacted the owner who decided to close for the day. The therapists were informed, and the only task Catherine had left was to make a CLOSED sign for the front door.

With music stopped mid-measure, the sign put in place, Catherine blew out the candles and turned off the lights. The spa turned quiet again. The folks in Maine would chuckle at a closing in April, but she wasn’t in Maine. She had left the town a half hour’s drive from Portland nearly a year ago and still felt new to Northeastern Pennsylvania.

On her drive home she watched the traffic behind her as much as the cars ahead. She thought of how to fill the time suddenly found. A stack of cooking magazines rested on her desk, with corners bent, marking new recipes she wanted to try. It wasn’t as much fun to cook for one. Earlier in the day, it would have been perfect weather for reading, but with blue skies peeking out, she decided on a walk with Lucky, her German shepherd-mix. One last glimpse into her rearview mirror showed no one behind her as she coasted to a stop in front of her home.

Lucky greeted her at the door. He barked and rubbed against her black pants as she patted his head. His tail slapped against her shins. She knelt down to nuzzle him. I’ve been thinking. You know that hike I’ve been promising you to The Falls? The trail will be a little muddy, but should we give it a shot anyway?

Lucky replied with one curt bark. Catherine scratched behind his ears, then moved to her bedroom closet. Lined nylon pants replaced her pinstriped slacks. She pulled a long sleeved turtleneck over her tank top and grabbed a thick pair of socks from her bottom drawer. She tugged them on before reaching for her hiking boots. A matching windbreaker was yanked from a hanger that lost its anchor and fell to the hardwood floor with a clatter. Lucky waited at the front door, his ears perked in anticipation.

Ready? Catherine asked.

Two resounding barks followed her question as they headed to her car, a 1982 Rabbit Convertible. I don’t think so. You know the rules, back seat!

She remembered the directions vaguely; a right on Old Trail Road, take this road through several stop signs. Route 117 would dissect her path. Take a right turn. The park’s entrance would be on the left.

Trees became denser and the unfamiliar road held Catherine’s attention. Quick twists and turns punctuated the ribbon of asphalt that lacked a center line, and made her fingers grip the wheel.

Lucky, nose pressed to glass, whined as the cows came into view. Catherine had become used to Lucky, the sense of security he provided. He filled the loneliness of a new town, and she found the extra duties an easy trade for the reward of his company. It’s okay. We’re not far now – can’t be, Catherine soothed. The full-bellied bovine became specks in her side mirrors as Lucky’s whining ceased.

She watched for signs directing her to The Falls Trail parking area, and slowed to see an alcove cut from the mature pines and hardwood trees. Two other cars shared the open lot as she nosed into a space that was marked by a log sawn lengthwise and cut about the width of her car.

The cool, damp smell of a spring thaw surrounded her, and she held the door for Lucky, who waited as Catherine clasped his lead through his collar. As soon as Lucky sprang out of the car, he began to pull his lead. He howled, making Catherine wonder if he was in pain. What’s the matter? Catherine murmured as Lucky continued to tug at his leash.

She tried to hold him back from the large board marking the entrance to the trail, and displaying The Falls Trail map. It was visible from where she parked, and there was a woman studying the map. Catherine took in her attire. A fitted top with three quarter length sleeves revealed thin wrists that held nearly a dozen silver, spaghetti-thin, bangle bracelets. Black, fitted pants hugged her figure and flared slightly at her ankles. Hot pink stars were whip stitched on the toes of her black boots and peeked shyly from beneath her pant legs. The woman turned toward the howling. Lucky pulled, took a few strides, and leapt toward her. His paws left brown scuff marks on her pants.

Catherine quickly pulled him back. I’m so sorry! Lucky, NO!

The stranger laughed as her hands moved to brush away the dirt. She transferred smudges from her palms to the jacket tied around her waist. It’s okay, I love dogs. Nice pup, how’re you?

She kneeled and scratched behind Lucky’s ears. His tongue darted out and covered her face from mouth to nose faster than Catherine could pull him aside. Lucky, NO! I’m sorry! I guess he can tell you like dogs. After an awkward pause, You do like dogs, right?

The stranger stood, using her palm to swipe at Lucky’s kiss, and instead added mud to her face. Catherine rooted in her pocket and produced a tissue. I’m really sorry.

The woman shrugged off the offer and used her hand to wipe her face. Did I get it?

Catherine nodded. Straightening, she noticed the stranger was slightly taller than herself, with long, dirty-blonde hair, strong cheekbones and lips that were full, like her own. She noticed large breasts that defied gravity and seemed to be out of context on the stranger’s slight, fine-boned frame. Peeking down at her own breasts, Catherine’s eyes darted back to the meet the woman’s gaze.

I’m Susan, dog lover and hiker of The Falls Trail.

Catherine straightened, tugging Lucky back to her side, and extended her hand, I’m Catherine, and you’ve just met Lucky, my best friend. She watched as Susan’s eyes moved to Lucky, and he pulled to be nearer to Susan. She continued, He stole my heart when I visited the pound about a year ago – we’ve been roomies ever since.

So, you live alone, just the two of you?

Catherine’s gaze shifted to look over Susan’s shoulder. WOW! It’s beautiful!

Susan reached down and Lucky moved so her hand could pet his head. Have you hiked The Falls before?

Nope, first-timers. You? asked Catherine.

I’m a regular, here all the time.

Well, we better go if we hope to get through before dark. It was nice meeting you, Susan. Lucky’s sorry for getting you dirty, aren’t you, boy?

Susan smiled, lifting her hand to wave. As Catherine moved away Lucky hesitated, holding firm. She tugged, again, before he slowly followed.

Hey! Catherine? Both Catherine and Lucky turned to face Susan who was entering the path. I could join you guys. I know the trail really well. I’ll lead.

Catherine looked down at Lucky, his tail thumping, she smiled. I think we’d love some company.

***

Susan skipped toward them, turning sideways gracefully as she moved ahead of them on the trail. Lucky’s tail wagged and she patted his head as she passed him.

Catherine watched her gait, unsure how she could manage the uneven path in her western boots. Lucky tugged at his leash to stay close to Susan’s heels, so close that Catherine had to call him, nervous he would get tangled in her step.

The path widened slightly, the forest opening up. Catherine could smell the dampness; the smell of dirt and pine in the air. She was grateful for her jacket, and the sun as it found its way through the limbs of the trees.

Calling over her shoulder, Susan said, We’re gonna follow the blue posts for The Falls Trail. Can’t believe you haven’t been here before. Where ya from?

I was born in Western Pennsylvania and moved when I was a kid to Maine. A sleepy town, not too small though. Good people. Well, most of them anyway. The last sentence fell from her mouth, making her uncertain if it was spoken aloud.

The path narrowed and they walked single file; Susan, Lucky, then Catherine. Susan raised her voice to be heard over the sound of the stream, her eyes directed forward. Why here? What drew you to this hole-in-the-wall?

Many things, Catherine answered. The location is one. Being nearby to so many cities and yet living in the country, surrounded by nature – what could be better? Plus, the cost of living is low and there is a large, wellness center where I knew I could find a job. It was a change and I needed one. Catherine answered.

You a nurse? Susan asked.

No. Although sometimes I think I could be, with the care I give to people. She chuckled, imagining herself as a nurse. No, I’m a massage therapist….well, really not anymore.

Susan looked back, slowing her pace, her eyes narrowed, not understanding.

Confusing, I know. I’m a Spa Coordinator. I work in a wellness center, or a day spa. I help people decide what treatments they need to relax. The words rushed from her mouth, and she began to feel a line of sweat on her upper lip. Catherine’s answer seemed to satisfy Susan.

It’s nice you help people. Susan said, and spun around, quickening her pace.

Catherine and Lucky moved to follow her, as the sound of the water became louder. Catherine asked Susan where she was from.

Susan called out over her shoulder, Here, born an’ raised. I grew up a few miles from this park. I know how it is to help people. I’m in the service industry, too.

As they continued to hike, Catherine watched for the blue signs appearing every thirty steps or so, nailed to the tree trunks at about eye level. The sound of water, and its movement over rocks, occupied their conversation for the next several minutes. In this space, Catherine wondered what Susan did for a living. She couldn’t imagine her as a dental hygienist or in the medical field. Retail, she thought. With style and a friendly personality, maybe she worked in a clothing store. Her thoughts were interrupted by Susan calling out over the water.

I had high hopes, but life has a way of puttin’ it to you. I was at the top of my class – all those honor classes, the ones only worth something if you’re going on to college. Can’t believe it’s almost fifteen years ago, Susan trailed off, the mention of her past seeming to dredge up more thoughts.

The same jolt traveled through Catherine’s body – of time passing too quickly. It had been almost the same amount time for her. She had been eager to move past high school, but found something missing from her college experience. Frank had strolled into her life the second week of her freshman year. This relationship she often referred to as the turning point in her life, the moment when someone expressed interest, and she fell in love. She couldn’t know then that all future lovers would be compared to Frank.

Susan slowed and turned, stopping to face Catherine and Lucky, then spun on her heel and moved away. Catherine had seen the flash of anger in Susan’s eyes. I drifted a little, sorry. You got me thinking about--

Doesn’t matter, now, Susan interrupted, rage apparent in her voice. Didn’t matter I was smart, my parents caught me messing with a guy a couple years older and no college for me. They weren’t gonna support the likes of me -- a whore in their opinion, learning or not!

Susan stumbled on a root, but kept her footing and turned. Her demeanor changed; fury was replaced by serenity, Watch your step there!

Catherine’s eyes moved to the ground; she was grateful for the distraction, an excuse to avoid Susan’s outburst. She watched the roots, like lines on a map, twisted, overlapping that led to trees and bushes. Lucky paused and lifted his leg on one of the trees. They waited for him to finish.

I guess you could say I’m in the wellness business too, only in my case, it’s making people feel good by watching -- I’m an entertainer! Susan broke into a peal of laughter that bounced and echoed off the trees, superseding the stream’s movement.

Catherine’s heart quickened and she walked with Lucky to the stream’s edge to let him drink. She felt Susan standing behind her. Chills formed at the base of her hairline. She reached up to her ponytail and removed the tie, allowing her hair to tumble down her back.

Susan reached out and lightly touched Catherine’s hair.

Pretty. Your hair is beautiful!

The tingling moved to Catherine’s scalp and she gently tugged Lucky’s leash, wanting him close by. As she stepped toward Lucky, Catherine turned to face Susan.

So what is it you do? she asked.

Susan twirled her arm delicately around a sapling, and began to move her hips rhythmically to music Catherine couldn’t hear. Her other arm drifted toward her head, and her eyelids half closed. Catherine watched, realizing that her assessment of a clerk at a clothing store was way off base. Her eyes grew larger as Susan’s arm moved back down her body, caressing until her fingertips rested on her left breast. Her hand paused there, articulating the fullness of her breast, stroking until her nipple puckered. Her eyes never left Catherine’s surprised face. Slowly Susan’s hand began to slide downward. Catherine cleared her throat and Susan’s eyes opened wide, her hands fell to her sides.

The money’s great, all cash. I got a lot saved up, too, Susan said as she adjusted one of the bracelets which had moved up her forearm. Her gaze returned to Catherine, who worked on Lucky’s leash, untangling knots that weren’t there.

Hey! I’m not a prostitute, just a dancer. I never let them touch me. It’s against the rules. If anyone gets out of line, there’s someone there to put’em straight – or show them to the door.

I guess if you’re safe and all, Catherine replied, looking at her watch. She began to chew the inside of her cheek, as she walked back toward the pathway, ahead of Susan.

I can be anyone I wanna be during my acts. The geisha gets lots of blushes, amazing what you can do with a fan and chopsticks, she said, as she moved behind Catherine on the path.

A cowgirl’s real popular, and a doctor – I’ve even been a doctor! You know what gets me the most cheers and tips? Catherine stopped and turned to face her, curiosity competing with discomfort.

What? Catherine asked.

"A librarian! Little glasses, hair pulled up in a twist, a fitted, buttoned up dress which shows my curves, but hides my skin. Men love sexy, smart an’ uptight.

Well? she asked, don’t they?

Catherine felt her face muscles freeze in surprise, but just as quickly she shifted her shocked mouth into smile. She couldn’t veil the hurt from spilling to her eyes.

***

Others had described Catherine as sexy. She understood her long, thick hair, full breasts and hips with a tapered waist in between caught a lot of male attention. She may be considered sexy, but didn’t feel comfortable hearing the adjective applied to her. A curvy woman, with a magnetic energy, thick eyelashes who batted them frequently, was Catherine’s perception of sexy. She studied her reflection each day and never once caught sight of sexy.

Smart. Catherine wore this adjective like a thick winter coat. She snuggled into it and even donned it on summer days. Nervous to be without it, she held it tight to her chest, defending it wildly, with venom she didn’t know she possessed. It had been Peter, a man she had dated a few years ago, who asked her why she ditched her college degree to become a massage therapist. After her usual reply of wanting to help people and how fulfilling it was to watch a person’s health improve, he laughed. You are the most brilliant underachiever I’ve ever met! She laughed, just long enough to appear polite and later, gave him a warm kiss goodnight and thanked him for dinner. She didn’t return his call the next night, or the one after that and after the fourth attempt he stopped trying.

Uptight was the adjective that made her cheeks burn, got a reaction from Catherine each time. Despite years of practicing her game face, this word still dug into her flesh, burrowed its way into her being, untouchable. She heard it disguised as: reserved, tense, repressed, controlled, or the worst of all, frigid. Was it her posture? Was it her diction, or her clothes? She never asked which of her qualities made her appear uptight.

Richard had held her tight while they made love. His gaze looked through and behind her eyes. He never stifled his joy, or softened his voice and she always knew what he thought. Sweet, warm, beauty. Vixen, temptress, you’re wild! Once after making love, her back against his chest, he asked why she held back. She was grateful she had already begun her deep, soft breath. It was easier to allow herself to close her eyes, pretend she was asleep, than answer his question. The relationship only lasted another six weeks. His question haunted her. The answer wore too many faces asking the same question.

***

Catherine’s quick motion toward the next blue sign indicated she was comfortable hiking the trail without Susan’s help, or conversation. She could follow a marked trail. She didn’t need a big mouthed stripper to guide her, even if she was a local. Catherine heard Susan’s boots stomp toward her, skidding to a stop just before collision was imminent.

Feelings hurt? You got some thin skin. It really was a compliment, you know. Friends?

Catherine turned to look at her. Before she spoke, Susan continued, smiling. I’m sorry; sometimes what I think just flies from my mouth. Try as I might, I can’t stop it. Please, don’t be mad.

Catherine tried to smile at her. She reached down to pet Lucky’s head. She considered him a great judge of character, and so far she only sensed his desire to be closer to Susan. She trusted Lucky’s instinct, not convinced of her own, and she hoped to cultivate more accurate first impression instincts. In the interim she would delegate Lucky to this task.

We better get a move on if we’re going to see the falls today, Catherine said.

Susan jumped in the air, hands clapping, and laughed, That’s the spirit!

She moved in front of Catherine and Lucky on the path, bowed deeply and gestured with her arm, Right this way.

The path moved closer to the stream, following the curve of its bank. As it narrowed, the slope gradually increased, the tree trunks acting as