The dead always make great listeners. Where have I heard that before? In fact, most of the time they don’t do any talking at all. There is a reason for the expression “silent as the grave.” My name is Edward Cleo. I talk to dead people all the time. It’s not only interesting to talk to them but it’s become a fairly profitable way to make a living. Yes, I am aware of the irony that I make my living from the deceased. I used to be a fraud but that was a while back. I was a phony psychic for many years. Hey, now I’m the real deal. I can really talk to the dead and boy do they have a lot of things to say to the living.


It started about eight years ago when I was thirty three years old. I just couldn’t stand it anymore. I had gone from one dead end job to another. I was looking for a good scam. My first idea was to maybe become some kind of televangelist or magician. Most people who knew me wouldn’t believe I was religious or spiritual. There would have been too many words to swallow short of some kind of miracle. I did do some magic like kids birthday parties when I was in my twenties. I was pretty good but not in the league of someone who could become rich and famous. Then I remember going to a friend’s funeral. Everyone in the family was talking about how they wish they could talk to him just one last time.

His mother said she would give anything, that’s right, anything just to tell him she loved him. That really got me thinking. I mean people would pay anything to talk to their dearly departed loved ones. My first thought was that was a very promising thing that I could profit from. People would certainly watch a television show with some psychic who could speak to the dead. There would certainly be a market for that.
I did eventually become a smashing success with my television audience.

The problem was that I underestimated the market. I mean I found ways to make a living. I found a publisher for my book “They Want to Talk” with no problem. Next thing I knew I had a talent agent and I was traveling the United States talking to dead people in every state. I was actually very popular on the college circuit. I’m not sure why. I think a lot of those college kids were actually making fun of me. What the hell, they were still paying to get in even if they knew I was a fraud. Like I said I WAS a fraud.

That’s not the case now. I’ve really, truly been able to speak with the other side for about six months now.
I’ve had my fair share of problems and people who didn’t believe me. A group of skeptical protestors follows me still. Their leader Justin Ironside would follow me around make accusations at me in public.
“How does it feel to take advantage of people’s grief and be such a scumbag, Cleo?”
I told him that I was a real psychic and not a charlatan so I wouldn’t know.

“We both know you’re not for real. You are a terrible excuse for a human being preying upon people when they’re most vulnerable. Someday you’ll pay for what you’ve done, you low life.”
The police would escort my friend Justin away and then I would go on about my business of talking to the dead. I couldn’t help thinking about the way that the funeral industry takes advantage of people’s grief. I mean no one has to buy my book or watch me on TV. People have to have a coffin to be buried in or at least an urn.

Jenny Goodstar was always available to communicate with the dead. Well, apparently this was true. She got her own television show right away and showed everyone what was going on. Jenny had her own television show called “Let’s Talk with the Dead with Jenny” for about eight years or so. I guess you could describe my feelings as jealous but that wouldn’t quite be fair. I mean jealous could mean anything. I was feeling outraged that someone else had my niche in life and was going all the way with it. I was very, very mad at this whole situation. I mean who the hell was Jenny to take my place in the media spotlight? I mean who the hell was she to steal my thunder? I always thought she was nothing more than a big phony. I mean I am fully aware of the irony. Anybody who really knows me or at least any of my close friends also knows I am also a complete and total phony. That’s fine. I used to be a complete and utter fraud and I know it. I was nothing more than a bad psychic.

That’s fine. I know it’s true. Well, I know that it at used to be true. Now I am the genuine article. I mean I can really communicate with the dead. I hear their voices. I mean they want to talk. More specifically they want to talk to me. Many people have written off the supernatural as nonsense. They don’t consider it could actually be part of their objective reality. They think that religion and science are polar opposites. You can blame higher education for that one. The truth is that if I wasn’t on the receiving end of “the other side,” I would think it was all nonsense my self. Unfortunately, I don’t have that option anymore.

Once you grow in your understanding of the universe, things tend to really change. That’s what happened to me. I mean I was a skeptic, a fraud and a rock bottom materialist by nature. The dead changed me. I mean they really changed the nature of who I am and the way I looked at the world. I can honestly say if these happened to you that the feeling would definitely be mutual. I guess it would have to happen to you for you to fully understand and appreciate exactly what happened to me. I mean it was phenomenal! It was dare I say it…miraculous. Anyone who has not experienced the supernatural is probably stuck in the same dead end life ends at death materialism that I was stuck in. I knew I was a phony.

I knew I was ripping people off and exploiting their grief. I guess deep down inside I even knew that what I was doing was morally and ethically wrong. I didn’t care. I wanted the money. I had also sees a lot of business dealings that were in my opinion far more unethical than my transactions with the deceased. At least they were for the benefit of surviving family members.

We’re back to Justin again. When I was a phony he would actually wait for me in the parking lot of the TV studio. The limo driver usually called the police before he could say anything. Sometimes he still managed to get a few good words in on me.

“I told you that someday you’ll pay. I really mean it. It’s not right what you do. It’s not right by a long shot. You’re going to have to stop this and tell everyone you’re a fake. Then apologize….”
The police escorted Justin away again but back to my nemesis……….
Let me say first of all that Goodstar was always my competition from the very beginning of my psychic career. Essentially I really hated her from the start. I mean she wasn’t just another phony like myself….she was a self righteous bitch. I guess you could say that I always hated her guts for that. I mean I really hated her for that. She acted like she was always on the side of righteousness instead of being a bad psychic like me. I was just somebody who pretended to be well acquainted with the supernatural to make a quick and profitable buck. I mean hey, if exploiting people’s fear of death to make a profit wasn’t the American way I don’t know what is.

The phony preachers and magicians who have taken away a fool’s money compose a major part of our nation’s history. What is the expression now? “No one ever went broke underestimating the taste and intelligence of the American public.”

I’m no fool. I know it’s much bigger than that. I mean there are psychics like myself in Great Britain and the rest of Europe. Hey, grief and death are world wide events that effect humans on all corners of the globe. It’s only the wealthy indulgent countries that can afford sideshows like mine. I mean most people in the world are trying to survive. They don’t have time or money to pay someone to talk to the dead. However, they do often still believe in life after death. It’s quite a phenomenon that people everywhere seem to need to cling on to this hope.

This hope that there is something that is beyond the grave. It’s like human beings are too intelligent and important to live for such a short amount of time and then simply…die. Yes, die as in gone forever and rest in peace. How could that be? We’re too important of a species for that. It can’t be true that we simply die or pass away. There is, of course, no proof for life after death. Not even a shred. There are these so called near death experiences but most of them can be scientifically proven to be hallucinations. Did I mention that I used to feel this way about the subject of life after death?

Now I know there is life after death. I mean I can’t prove it to you. You would have to possess the same gift that I have to fully understand and appreciate it. That’s all there is to it. When I was scamming people I started out visiting people’s homes and asking them questions about the deceased. The law of averages would eventually work in my favor. Sooner or later I would get the right information so I could pretend to talk to the dead. There were always one or two skeptical family members looking at me like I was a scumbag. That was okay. Money is always green whether or not the person who gave it to you hates you or not. It was pretty easy. Sometimes things were really easy. There did not appear to be a skeptic in site.

That’s when I just used common sense. It was no miracle or even a clever magic trick. I simply had the benefit of reading some very detailed obituaries. That was always nice. It appeared as though I knew everything there was to know about someone who I had never even met.

I started to attract a more wealthy class of clientele. The middle class homes I visited were starting to turn into mansions and estates. My financial problems were beginning to disappear. They wanted to talk and they did talk. They would talk to me and for a high price you could hear what they had to say. Next thing I knew I was traveling all over America. Then my book came out. The only problem was that I never got my own television show. My agent offered me my own radio show. That was a tough gig. I couldn’t read people’s faces when they weren’t in front of me. I had to hire an assistant who had to read more obituaries than any other person in the history of radio.

My radio show became quite popular. I think that many people just want to say goodbye to their loved ones even if it was just one last time. When people don’t have to pay for such services like callers on a radio show, they go for it. I do think that many callers don’t believe in life after death. They just want to say goodbye or want to be on the radio. That’s fine. I got paid the same either way.

I almost got in some trouble for my book because I used real life examples of people I “helped.” That could have gotten me in some serious trouble. I stopped printing that version and came up with another addition where people’s names have been changed. Then I was okay. We did have to shell out some royalty fees to several families. That was okay. I mean there was more than enough money to go around. I guess you could say I was always a happy go lucky kind of guy. This was true in all aspects of my life except one. That was the deep and hateful jealousy I felt for that damned Goodstar woman. She really got me angry. All I had to do was look at her for a moment or even just hear the sound of her voice. That was all it took. It didn’t take much for her to ruin my day. When we would bump into each other she would condescendingly ask me how my “radio show” was. She seemed to forget that there was an awful lot of trash on television. The daytime talk shows, the soaps, the reality shows. It’s not as if television was a positive influence on American culture. I guess I just wanted my shot at being part of the cultural wasteland of daytime TV. It was hard for me to admit sometimes but I was so jealous of her that I could just scream. She was on a television show that by all rights should have been mine.

Even as my psychic career started to make monumental gains, I still had to pay my dues. There was more than one occasion when a relative of a murder victim would pay me top dollar to speak to the deceased. I mean think about it. Who better to identify the murderer than the actual murder victim? I would typically get twice my usual pay rate for these golden assignments. The problem was that I didn’t actually know who killed these people. I would usually say the victim didn’t get a chance to see who did it. That posed a problem because a lot of folks seem to think that once a person dies, the soul sort of becomes omnipotent and knows all of life’s mysteries. You know like the reason we are here and what happens after we die. That always posed a problem. I guess I said I was paying my dues because I did get punched in the face on more than one occasion. There were at least two times when my nose got broken. I didn’t complain. I had an excellent attorney and ended up getting money through my assault and battery charges. They were against family members of clients who control themselves. It was all in a day’s work and the work paid very well.

Then one day it just kind of happened. It was one of those unexpected moments in life. I was having dinner with some friends one evening and old Ms. Goodstar walked up to meet me. I was cordial to her. I was professional enough that I wanted to hide my insane jealousy of her. She asked me if she could come by and watch me do my radio show. I didn’t really want her to come but unfortunately my agent was among my friends that evening. He was thrilled that Jenny was taking an interest in me and my career. So we did have her come and watch me do my show. She told me that I had genuine talent. I was actually flattered by her praise. Still, she seemed like she was questioning my motives. It’s not like she wasn’t making a fortune with her TV show. It’s wasn’t as if she was some not for profit charity.

She asked me out for dinner and we started seeing each other socially. It was quite strange to date Jenny because I had always described her to others as this insufferable she-devil. We kept dating and it was encouraged by my agent. The newspapers had a fun time making fun of the psychic couple who could speak to dead people. When we started to become more serious and our relationship became exclusive, I begin to question my own intentions. Was I so desperate to be in the spotlight that I would make my one time arch rival my fiancé? It seemed like I was a pretty shallow guy. I could deal with my own selfish nature. Jenny Goodstar and I became engaged. It was going to be a very interesting wedding. The wedding was attended by many important people. There were actors, musicians, politicians and even royalty.

We went all over Europe for our honeymoon. Jenny liked most cities in Europe especially Paris. Once we returned from our trip, it was business as usual. Her TV show was thriving. It was more popular than ever before. My radio show had gained multitudes of new listeners. We were a popular couple. The earnings we made changed our lives. We had homes in New York, Hawaii and Rome. I woke up everyday almost feeling like I was living in denial. It seemed more like a dream than real life. This was the lifestyle of the rich and famous and it was mine. We had servants and threw parties for world leaders and movie stars. All of this was made possible by pretending to do the impossible. No one could talk to the dead. That’s what I had always known. Once you are dead you are gone forever. Only a fool would think otherwise. You would have to be a complete idiot to think anyone could talk to the dead. That’s what I used to think before I discovered I had the true psychic gift.

It was a year into our marriage when I started to have wonder about my wife. How seriously did she take her own “psychic” abilities? Did she know this was all show business or was she deluding herself? Unfortunately, I got my answer.

“I’m very fortunate to have been blessed with this gift. I guess the reason we’re so successful is that we use our powers to help others. It must be part of some plan.”

No. It wasn’t part of some secret or divine plan. It was part of a financial plan. I couldn’t believe someone who was so successful could be so stupid. Then I forgot about how the entertainment industry is full of people who earn millions but are completely broke when it comes to common sense.

“Edward, don’t you feel blessed because of your gift?”
I couldn’t take it anymore. I was going to have to tell her the truth. I mean you can’t share your life with someone and not let them know you’re a fraud. I was proud of being a phony. It takes great resolve to fool people like I did. I mean to convince people you believe something that you knew to be absolutely absurd.

“No. I don’t feel blessed because I don’t believe there is any such thing as the gift.”
“Edward, that’s terrible. You’re a fraud.”
“Now, Jenny take it easy.”
“I will not! I’ve never been so outraged in my entire life. Edward, to think that I was actually going to have you co-host my TV show!”

Oh boy. Now I had really done it. Telling Jenny psychic abilities were nonsense was a really bad mistake. I would have to lie to her. I knew how to tell a good lie, it was after all what I did for a living.

“Jenny, please just listen for moment. What I meant to say was that anyone can learn psychic ability. It’s not some gift for just an elite few. The spiritual gift of second site is something in all of us. All people have a seed inside them. They just need the faith to allow it to grow, that’s all.”
I sure hope she bought it. I really wanted to be off the hook.
“Oh, Edward darling, I’m so sorry that I doubted you. It sounded like you were one of those horrendous skeptics. I don’ like them but I really don’t like people who would mock special gifts.”
I was going to be alright. Actually, better than alright, I was going to be on TV! This was going to be terrific. It was a shame that I had to lie to my beloved, stupid wife. Something had to be done to get me on the air.

“Thank you, Edward. I’ll call my agent tomorrow. The idea of having you on television with me is inspiring.”

Yes. It is inspiring. I was torn between the joy of finally getting on television and the inconvenience of sharing the limelight. Now that being said, I was starting to feel some other emotions as well. I didn’t expect it but I was really feeling angry at Jenny. How the hell could she be so damn stupid? Did she really think she could talk to dead people? I learned something about my wife that day. She wasn’t a fraud like me. Jenny Goodstar was utterly delusional. This woman was deluding herself and I was really beginning to hate her for it. I loved being married to a celebrity. I hated being married to a moron. It wasn’t like being married to some great actress who believed in reincarnation. This was somebody who should have known that there are no psychics. She should know that anybody who tells you they can talk to your dead friend or relative is a liar. Anybody who thinks otherwise is a fool.

I went for a walk by myself that night. That was not a wise thing to do especially when you go around calling others foolish. I didn’t get to walk very far. I made it to the tip of the ocean. I loved hearing the sounds of the sea to calm me when I felt anxiety or anger. I heard the ocean. I didn’t hear Justin knock me over the top of the head with his gun.

“Do you know why you’re here?”
I was hanging upside down in some warehouse. Justin was standing right beside me and he didn’t look happy.
“You’re here because I’m going to get a taped confession out of you. If you don’t tell the world you’re a fraud, I’m going to cut your ears off. Do you get me? Do we understand each other psychic scumbag?”

I asked Ironside how he knew that I was a phony
“Well, my first clue was that all psychics are fake or crazy. You aren’t crazy. Secondly, a true psychic would have predicted his own kidnapping. You didn’t! Edward Cleo is a fraud and the world needs to know.”

He got out his take recorder and I made my statement. I mean what choice did I have? This son a bitch meant business!
“Come on scumbag, start talking.”

I made a statement saying I was a complete and utter fraud. I said that I was just in it for the money and that I was never at any time convinced that I had any psychic abilities whatsoever. This was bad. He then went a little further.

“Now admit you married that crazy woman because you’re a vain bastard who has to see his face on TV. Admit that you don’t love your wife and I give you my word that I will let you go.”
What good is his word? The word of a complete lunatic wasn’t worth a whole lot in my book.

I had to admit even though I didn’t love my wife (at least I don’t think that I did) it was hard to say I didn’t out loud. It was hard to admit my marriage was as phony as my psychic abilities were. I still said it. Justin recorded me saying that I was jealous of her and I wanted to be on TV so bad that I married someone I hated. All this and I hadn’t even been on TV yet. How did Ironside know I was going to be on TV with my wife? Was he….psychic?

“The talk around town is that the people want you and your wife to share a TV show together. That’s great. We can have the deluded nut and the scumbag phony all on the same show. Imagine the ratings. Think about all the people who would tune in just to make fun of it. People like me who think psychics are dangerous liars. Only most people would just like to sit back and watch.”
I told him that I had done everything he asked. He agreed. Justin cut me down.

“I’m letting you go now. I know that I’m going to end up in jail tomorrow. That’s okay. As long as I get to expose you for what you are, I’ll go to prison for a long time.”
I felt weak and humiliated. Ironside opened the front door of whatever warehouse we were in. I started to walk slowly towards the door. Suddenly, I head a very familiar voice.
“Don’t let him get away. We can’t allow him to release that tape.”
I didn’t recognize the voice right away but I felt a surge of adrenaline when it spoke to me. The strangest thing was happening tome. I was no longer afraid my kidnapper. I rushed towards him with all my strength.

“Cleo, what the hell are you doing?’
Justin wanted to pull a knife on me but I had already grabbed his gun from his back pocket. I knocked him over the head with it just like he did to me. It was exhilarating! I took the tape that could have potentially ruined my career. Then I called the police. My lovely psychic wife was worried sick when I got home.
“Edward, what happened? Are you alright?”
I told her about my ordeal, my kidnapping. She was obviously very relieved I was okay.
“We have to get you to a hospital.”
I told her that I agreed. Then I said that I was happy to be alive.
“How did you escape from him Edward?”
I couldn’t just tell her that he let me go over some stupid tape. So I told her a lie. Well, not exactly I really did hear a voice.
“Did you recognize the voice right away?”
No. I told her I did not.
“Was it the voice of one of the murder victims of the families you helped?”
No. Wow. No!
“Who was this mysterious voice?”
I thought about it over and over again. Then the strangest thing happened. I remembered whose voice it was. It was my grandfather’s voice. My grandfather died four years ago so he shouldn’t be saying much these days.
It didn’t take me long to recover. I was on TV before too long. It was really great, too. I had to say that I think it was even better than I thought it was going to be. The live audience was thrilling. I think maybe the best part was just the huge thunderous applause at the end of each show’s taping. The show was now called “Talking to the Dead with Jenny and Ed.”

The people never stopped coming. They never stopped asking questions about their deceased loved ones. I had to stay away from some of the more controversial answers like so and so is in Heaven or Hell! I also wasn’t big on saying someone’s spirit was still with us and would continue to haunt their loved ones for generations to come. Nope. Keep it simple was always my motto. I was a great cold reader. Maybe the best there was. What’s cold reading? Well, it’s like guessing but with a lot more style and talent involved.

“I’ve experienced a great loss,” said the woman in row b.
I asked her if it was someone close to her.
“Yes.”
She was about late thirties or early forties.
“It was someone close to. She was very dear to me.”
Now we were getting somewhere.
“I hate to cry on TV but I’m still devastated.”
I told her that her grandmother was in a safe and happy place now.
“Thank you. How did you know?”
It was easy enough I thought. This woman is at the age where people typically lose their grandparents not their parents. Best cold reader in show business.
“You’re really coming along with our show, Edward.”
I told my wife I was flattered by her praise but I really wasn’t. I mean why was her name first on the credits? I was the one with the real talent.
“So who was this mysterious voice you heard?”
I told her it was my grandfather I think. I wasn’t really sure because I might have just been traumatized by the kidnapping. Did I really hear his voice?
“Yes you did hear my voice,” he said.
Why are you bothering me now?
“I’m not here to bother you! I’m here to help you. I have a great plan for your life. You don’t want to end up some old man who worked in a lousy factory your whole life. Do you?”
I told him no, of course I didn’t.
“Follow my plan.”

I humbly explained to him that I was already a famous TV star and author.
“You are now but it won’t last.”
What did he mean that it wouldn’t last?
“Your wife has already found that tape.”
I was kidnapped.
“It doesn’t matter. She’s going to divorce you. Then it will happen this way. People all over the world are going to see you’re nothing but a fraud. Then the lawsuits are going to come. You’re going to file for bankruptcy.”
God help me I was going to be penniless.
“Follow my instructions.”
I wanted to know what his plan was.
“I will tell you my plan the next time we speak.”
I talked to my grandfather. He had a plan for my life. Then I woke up.
“Edward, you must have had a bad nightmare.”
The real nightmare took place while I was awake. I opened my safe and my tape wasn’t in it. My own sheer stupidity was driving me insane. Why the hell didn’t I burn it when I had the chance? If I ended up in jail then I deserved it for being such an imbecile.

“Honey, I ordered us dinner. Hope you’re in the mood for lobster.”
How could that two-faced hypocritical phony act so damned nice all the time. I mean she knew I made the tape. She was hiding it somewhere. I couldn’t imagine why she was waiting so long. Jenny had some sort of diabolical plan. That was okay because my grandfather and I had our own plan.

“I know you like the best so we have Maine Lobster.”
I didn’t care about Lobster! I cared about my damned tape! Jenny knew that I had a bad temper but I should have been more careful. Talk about poor judgment. I must have broken twenty expense things in less than five minutes. I rampaged through everything in a desperate attempt to find my tape.

“Edward, please calm down. Whatever problems you’re having, we can get you help!
I didn’t want help. I wanted my damn tape.
“Edward, let me call your therapist, please.”
I didn’t need therapy. I needed my damn tape.
“Edward, where are you going?”
I couldn’t stay at home with that backstabbing Judas of a wife. So I went for a long, long walk again. This time since it was the middle of the day, people were having a hard time leaving me alone.
“Aren’t you Edward Cleo?”
“My mother died last month. Could you please tell her that I love her.”
“My dog Barney died a year ago. Could you ask him if it’s okay if we move on and buy another dog now?”
I think that was my personal favorite. I mean think about it. Now people believe I can talk to dead pets. Unbelievable!
“Edward, thank God you’re back. Are you okay?”
Well, I’m just dandy. Thanks for asking Jenny! I was thinking of course I’m back. I didn’t get my stupid tape and I just realized I’m too famous to go walking around by myself during the day. I turned in early that night. My grandfather appeared to me in a dream before. I had no reason to assume he wouldn’t come back in the same way.
“Now do you believe me? Now do you finally realize she’s onto you?”
Yes. I could always trust my grandfather.
“You’re going to have to take action soon before it’s too late.”
Yes. I know.
“She’s diabolical and cannot be trusted,” said my grandfather.
I told him that I would do whatever he asked of me.
“It’s almost time for you to act. You need to do what needs to be done.”
That’s the kind of guy I’ve always been. The kind that does what is necessary.
“You’re never going to solve this problem unless you do exactly what I say. I’m not going to tell you do anything that doesn’t need to be done.”
I knew grandfather was going to give me good advice.
“I think we both know what you have to do, Edward.”
Yes. I knew. I think I always knew what had to be done.
“You don’t have to make her suffer. This is not some personal vendetta. This is just beating her to the punch. Don’t let her run your life!”

Yes. Why should I be made to suffer? I don’t feel like I did anything so wrong I should be impoverished or end up in jail. Still, perhaps grandfather was wrong. I could try to talk some sense into Jenny before resorting to violence.
“Don’t even think about trying to talk her out anything. She’s going to divorce you. That damned tape is going to expose you for the fraud that you are. You’ll be the laughing stock of show business.”
I don’t want to ruin my life but still I thought to myself…am I really capable of murdering my wife?
“Listen, boy. You don’t want to go to jail. Do you know what will happen to someone like you in jail?”
Hopefully, my celebrity status would keep me out of a real prison.
“No. You would end up in real prison. Don’t make me say what those animals would do to you in federal prison. It’s unspeakable what they would do.”
That settled the issue for me. Grandfather always had a way to make sure I knew the truth of my circumstances. I would kill my wife but how?
“I would make it look like an accident. You can make it simple. It doesn’t have to be complicated.”
Poison would be a good option. I could poison her.
“That’s a terrific idea. I would recommend using rat poison.”
Yes. That would be simple enough and it would be a nice, quick death for my beloved Jenny.

“I would just baker her cake. Sprinkle just enough on top of it to do her in. Don’t over due it since you don’t want to get caught.”
Yes. This plan was really beginning to come together.
“I wouldn’t wait too long.”
He was right. I asked him if he wouldn’t wait too long because she was out to get me as soon as she knew she could. Grandfather didn’t think so.
“I don’t want you to get all sentimental and attached to her. If you start thinking about ramifications of murdering your wife, you won’t do it.”
He was right, of course. I mean what kind of man kills his wife? I know that I truly hated her at times. Still, she was my wife. It may have started out as a jealousy thing but she still provided my life and career with a lot of good things.
“You deserve a show of your own and you know it. The only way to get it is to go out there and get it yourself. No one is going to just give it to you. That’s not the way life works. Hell, that’s not even the way the afterlife works!”

I didn’t have to question him. Grandfather was always right. He was always my friend and mentor. Much more so than my own father ever was! Now that he was dead I trusted him more than ever!
My beloved wife was sound asleep when I woke up. I watched her for the longest time. It must have been an hour or so. The thing was that I wanted to see the expression on her face. I mean did she look guilty or innocent. It was really hard to tell at this point. She could have been guilty or even innocent. The one thing I wasn’t going to do was take chances. If my grandfather told me she was going to betray me, I had to believe him. I just figured the dead always knew more than the living.

“Edward, are you okay?”
She woke up and I had to reassure her everything was just fine.
“What a beautiful morning, Edward.”
I told my beloved that I agreed and that today was going to be special.
“I’m so glad you calmed down. I was really worried about you, sweetheart.”
The only thing I could think to say was that I wanted to bake a cake. First I had to go to the store. I needed some special ingredients.
“Well, honey, you go the store and get anything you want. Watch out for obsessive fans. They may want to find out what your secret recipe is.”

I certainly hoped no one was going to find out my special ingredient for this love cake. The ease with which I purchased the rat poison with the rest of the ingredients cannot be over stated. It was real easy. The flour, icing and the rest wasn’t any easier to purchase than the poison. I mean it was unbelievable. They register guns. Why the hell don’t they register rat poison?

There wasn’t anything especially dramatic in my wife’s death. We had dinner and then for dessert I had already made my special cake. What made it special is that my wife fell on the floor foaming at the mouth after one bite. I called 911 and reported that my wife must have suffered some sort of stroke. Jenny was already dead when the ambulance arrived.

“We’re so sorry for your loss,” said the funeral director.
I explained to him that it was all for the best. There must have been a grand plan for this. Besides, I could talk to dead people now. I could just have a little chat with her and make sure there were no hard feelings.

“I guess it’s your TV show now Mr. Cleo,” said the funeral director.
Yes. I was going to have my own TV show now. That was the real grand plan. Unfortunately, I knew Jenny was going to steal my thunder for at least a week. Dead celebrities are hard to compete with.
“I’m so sorry for your loss, Edward,” said my producer.
I had to pretend I was devastated. Her funeral was very popular and was, of course, covered by national television. It was time to put my mourning face on and leave my shadow self behind.
The entire tragedy was over with before you knew it. Jenny was buried and I got a lot of fan mail. Some of it was nasty. About a thousand of so letters asked me how I felt now that someone I loved was gone. Would I pay with money I don’t have to have another charlatan pretend to talk to Jenny? The letters poured in the first week and then dramatically decreased the next week.

I was ready to move on now. It was time. I mean you have to admit that it’s pretty horrible when you have to pretend to mourn for someone. Especially someone who was just holding you back!
“Edward, I would like to talk to your dead wife,” said the man in the front row.

I told him that she had just recently died. How could I get in contact with someone who was just beginning to understand the afterlife? Next question, please.

“I have the same question as the last man. Could you contact your wife and then have her talk to my wife? My wife was a big fan of hers and she passed away about a year ago.”
This was getting ridicules.
“When can we hear what Jenny has to say?” asked another woman.
I just told them that this was a complicated issue. Then I said that I might have some problems because I was too attached to the deceased in this particular case.
“We miss Jenny,” said another fool in the crowd.
I was beginning to feel like some stupid sidekick. I mean think about it. I was an excellent host. It wasn’t as if I didn’t know all the little tricks and how to manipulate people. I wasn’t a bad psychic. Why did this moronic audience prefer my dead wife as a host over me?
“When you get in contact with her can she be a co-host again?”
I couldn’t deal with this. The stupidity of this audience was almost unbelievable. Their idiocy took away from the enjoyment of having my own TV show. The popularity of Jenny was a problem I could never solve. Even in death, she was someone people liked more than me.
“I’m no fool. I know that no one can really talk to the dead. If you would make talking to Jenny part of your act then your ratings will still be high. Can you do that?” asked my agent.

Now I hated my agent. If I had my way I could kill also him. That was a bad idea. I had to concentrate on the task at hand. That task was trying to pretend to talk to my dead wife. If I didn’t do that then my TV career was going to die with her. Then it happened.
“Why did you kill me, Edward? I loved you……”
She was standing back behind the very last row. Jenny was looking more like a zombie than a ghost. I could already see her decomposing. What did she want?

“I don’t want to hear about your visions, Ed. We want you to contact Jenny on every episode,” said my agent.
I tried to tell him my visions were of a disturbing nature, not a beautiful vision of contact with the other side. He didn’t care.
“Look, friend this is the only format where someone can have a dead wife and she can still be the co-host.”

I hated him but killing him would be too much. It would be too much even for a man like me who murdered his wife and actually saw dead people I don’t mean seeing a vision of a dead person in a memory or dream. My visions were the real deal now. I actually did see dead people. This wasn’t some bad movie. I had visions that were absolutely terrifying. I was nothing more than a murderer and a con artist who just happened to be blessed…or maybe …cursed with this new supernatural gift of second sight.

Things were getting pretty strange for me. My grandfather and wife were appearing to me and quite often. Grandfather used to appear pretty much the way I remembered him. Now he was like Jenny. He was rapidly decomposing. I could deal with that. I mean dead people do decompose. The problem was that he wasn’t even speaking a word to me. Why the hell was he appearing next to Jenny? He was the one who told me to kill her to begin with and now he was hanging out with her in the afterlife. It was like some terrible old zombie movie from the 1970’s!

“You should never have killed me, Edward.”
I told her that I didn’t want to go to jail and grandfather said it was the right thing to do.
“He knows it was the wrong thing now.”
I asked her if that explained why he was always by her side in my visions.
“Yes. He has sworn an oath to stand by my side for all eternity.”
Grandfather is spending all eternity with you? I thought being a few years married her was a living hell.
“I will never appear on your TV show Edward.”
I guess not, you being dead and all I told her.

“I won’t allow you to even pretend you can make contact with me.”
Wait a minute! I told Jenny that pretending to talk to the dead has been a career for me for many years. If anyone can pretend to talk to someone who is no longer with us, it’s me!”
“You won’t be able to do it. We will intervene if you do.”
What did she mean by that?
“Your grandfather and I will simply not allow you to pretend to talk to the dead anymore.”
So the scam was over?
“You won’t be fooling anyone now. Not even yourself.”
I guess this means the next time I’m on TV it’s going to be the real deal!

“No one will want to see the reality of talking to the dead on your show. People want to believe romantic notions about death. The truth is quite the opposite. It’s unspeakably terrible to be dead.”
I had no doubt she was telling the truth. There were other things in life that were also unspeakable. One of them was going to prison for the rest of your life. Another horrible fate was being forced to watch your career go straight to hell. Perhaps the worst thing was having a dead wife who still controls your life and manipulates you.
“You better be talking to Jenny on the show today if you know what’s good for you,” said my agent.
I already knew the reason why he said this but I had to ask anyway.
“They’re threatening to cancel the show. The ratings are down because people want more Jenny but now she’s gone.”
Gone? I don’t think this idiot knew what he was talking about. Jenny was…well…dead and well. I had a terrible feeling Jenny was going to be with me for a very long time. She might even be with me for all eternity.

“It’s your job to bring Jenny back! People have lots of questions about the afterlife and they want to ask her soon!”
If nothing else, my life’s situation proved that existence itself was an absurdity in almost every conceivable way! Have you ever heard of the expression “the show must go on?” This show was going to continue but not for very long. The last show was….well…to die for.
I can only imagine how high the ratings for this show were. The whole special episode was dedicated to talking to Jenny. The audience was going to ask questions and my late wife was going to provide answers. They just wouldn’t be the answers they wanted to hear.
“Jenny was your death painful?” asked an old lady in the front row.
I lied and told the audience Jenny said her death was peaceful and painless.

“That’s a lie and you know it, Edward!”
She was standing right beside be me.
“Does Jenny enjoy her afterlife?’ asked another audience member.
I told everyone that Jenny was very happy where she was right now.
“Tell them the truth!”
That’s something I didn’t want to do.
“Does Jenny still miss you?”
I told them that Jenny and I shared a love that could never die.
“What does Jenny want to say to us?”
This was getting to be too much.
“You know what I want them to hear. If you don’t tell them you murdered me, I will make you pay!”
Make me pay? She was haunting and tormenting me now.
“Watch what I do to grandfather.”
He was back and he was still silent.
“Watch right now!”
She ripped his face right off. Grandfather was nothing more than a skull. His mouth opened wide and it made a strange sound. The sound was like an eerie wind.
I couldn’t take it anymore and I confessed. An audience of millions of TV viewers saw my entire confession. I screamed at the top of my lungs that I killed her. Every detail of my plan was explained including the type of rat poison used.

“Thank you, Edward. Now it’s time for all us to say goodbye.”
I was surrounded by everyone I had ever known or known of that had died. All the people that I had ever pretended to talk to were there. The widows and the widowers, the accident victims and the murdered were all there.

Everything went black. I lost consciousness due to the stress of seeing that many of the dead (or undead?) at once. My life had become a true ghost story. I really could see dead people and communicate with them.

“Oh, you’re awake. Good. The entire world has seen what you’ve done now.”

It was a detective. His name was Martin Wesley.
“I guess you know you’ll be lucky to just get life imprisonment. Too bad that terrible show wasn’t broadcast in Massachusetts instead of California. You wouldn’t be at risk for capital punishment if convicted.”

I was beggenning to realize that I was in jail. The surroundings were making me feel claustrophobic. I also begin to realize I had seen Wesley and his partner Jack Smith before. They had been investigating me for months. I told him I was sorry I killed Jenny. The feeling of killing my own wife was unbearable.

“You’re wife? What are you talking about? Mr. Cleo, you’re nothing more than a common stalker. Ms. Goodstar was a celebrity you stalked. You were never married to her.”
Things were starting to come together and yet made no sense all at once. Was I really insane?
“You killed two security guards and hacked her to pieces with a knife on national TV today.”
I tried to explain about my book and how we shared the TV show before I murdered her with rat poison.

“Mr. Cleo, I guess you’re working on your defense even before your court appointed lawyer gets here. Ms. Goodstar was married to someone else. Her widower’s name is Justin Ironside. You were never on TV and you never had a book published. I highly doubt that you have an agent.”

Don’t have an agent? I protested, of course I do, I’m in bloody show business!

“Sir, you’ve worked as a high school janitor at Saint John’s school down town for twenty years. You live alone with your mother.”
The detective left me alone to ponder my fate.
“Your lawyer should be here soon, Cleo.”
So I was all alone and waiting for my legal representation. I had no idea that I was crazy. I mean I really thought that I was a psychic and had a TV show. Surely any reasonable jury would spare the life of someone insane like me. I should be considered the definition of delusional. Any psychiatrist worth his salt should be able to show that I’m crazy. The insanity defense should be an easy case to make. I couldn’t predict what the outcome of my trial would be. You would have to be psychic to do that.