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                   Don’t Play Dead
                                         by Contance Lang
For the last two weeks, I’ve noticed people are laughing at me.  Every time I go
to the stores to search for necessary items, there they are, my ‘used to be
friends’, snickering and yes, laughing.  And, if that weren’t bad enough, now
some have even taken to pointing.

I must admit, at first, I was laughing too, but I was only laughing at the irony of
the situation.  Here I am, without Maya, left alone trying to discover the rituals
and spells of necromancy.  But now, I have to focus because necromancy is
serious business and I have no more time for laughing.  And, I know Maya
would not be laughing.

I have her notes, but they are barely enough to have led me to the right books.  
I’ve checked out dozens of books from the library and so far, everything I’ve
read says Maya did it wrong.  Well, I’m here, so she did something right, but
she’s gone and that is the very wrong part.

And, according to my plethora of new-found necromancy knowledge, I have
less than 48 more hours to gather everything I need, say the right incantations,
and dig her up before I can try to bring her back.

I spend most of my morning making sure I have the right robes, candles, fetters
and all the incantations I will need for later today, tonight and my final quest
tomorrow night.  Finally, I make sure I have the instructions I wrote that I have to
place inside Maya’s chest cavity.  Oh, and my mortician tools so I can sew her
back up afterwards.  I am not looking forward to that ritual.  But, I need to make
sure that when Maya comes back, she acts like Maya and not some other
wraith that happens to be along for the ride.  I’m sure Maya will understand and
eventually forgive me for any unsightly scars.

Once I am certain that I have everything I’ll need, I pack it all up and head over
to the cemetery.  Maya’s grave looks the same as the last time I was here which
was shortly after she brought me back and subsequently when I had to have a
funeral for her.  I haven’t had the heart to return since her funeral.  I know she’
d understand.

Maya brought me back on what would have been our fifth wedding
anniversary.  I have to bring her back on a day that means something to her
and if I wait until our next anniversary, it will be too late.  Anything longer than a
year or more and all I’ll be able to get back is her spirit.  I want the whole thing.  
So, tomorrow is Maya’s birthday and that’s the night she’s returning to me.  
I’m not sure what order I’m supposed to do all the rituals in, so I’m just going to
guess and hope for the best.  The first order of business is to build a shrine to
Maya.  I put her favorite things on top of her tombstone: her favorite flowers
(now dead of course), her favorite candy (molded and rotten), a piece of a
beloved flannel shirt, a few photos of her growing up and some of us together
as a couple.  Finally, I light a purple candle and recite my first incantation.  This
whole ritual takes almost two hours and is supposed to give Maya the Pathos
needed to return to me and the strength to stay once she gets here.

When I’m satisfied that her shrine is perfect and my incantation is as good as it’
s going to get, I gather my things to perform an exorcism of the cemetery.  I
need to get rid of any wraiths that are left over from other necromancer’s spells
or spirits that may be bound to the cemetery in any way, and for any reason.  I
don’t need any spirits hanging out trying to cause a ruckus when I’m bringing
Maya back to me.  It takes me about three hours to complete the exorcism and
by then, I’m exhausted.  I tell myself the old adage, ‘no rest for the wicked’ and
then decide what to do next.

I figure digging her grave might be a good place to continue.  The ground is
hard and rocky for the first few feet, but once I make it past that, it turns softer.  
By the time I reach Maya’s casket, I’m covered in dirt and sweat which is turning
the dirt to mud and dripping down into my eyes and I can feel it slithering down
my back.  I hope Maya will forgive me for not showering before she arrives, but
now that I’ve started all this, I won’t be able to leave here until she comes.

When I hit Maya’s casket with my shovel, I make sure to get a small splinter of
wood from it and put it in my pocket.  I’ll need it later for the spirit vessel.  I
leave her casket closed for now and climb out of her grave and make my
circles.  The first circle is about 30 feet in circumference with Maya’s grave in
the center.  The second circle is about 8 feet in circumference and made at the
foot of Maya’s grave. This, I might add, is where Maya went wrong.  She never
made the second circle to sit within while I was returning.  The first circle binds
her to the cemetery and the circle’s limited edge.  The second, smaller circle,
protects me until I can be sure that Maya is really Maya and not some wraith or
demon along for the ride.  Also, this way I’m protected and can wait until she
realizes where and who she is.  When Maya brought me back and I killed her, I
didn’t know who or what I was, and she didn’t have a protective circle to stand
within until I came to my senses.  I won’t make the same mistake she made.  I
don’t know what happens when an undead kills another undead and I’m not
willing to try to find out.

Before I cut Maya open and put the instruction sheet – the one currently
wrapped in plastic and tucked safely into my own pocket – into her chest, I have
to perform a binding spell.  For this I need to prepare a spirit vessel.  

Experienced necromancers take a finger bone, or other tangible body part for
the ceremony.  Since this is my first and I don’t want to inflict any more cruelty
upon her corpse than the chest wound, I’ve found other things to make the
vessel with.  I have some of her hair that I managed to get from her hairbrush, a
few toothbrush bristles (I’m hoping there’s some DNA on them), her favorite
pillow, a music CD that she listened to practically daily, some of her cat’s fur
(she would kill me if she found out how I managed to get that), and finally, the
splinter from her coffin.

I put all the items into a shopping bag.  I figure it doesn’t really matter what they’
re held in, as long as I have them all.  The incantations will take several hours,
but when I’m done, Maya will be bound to me forever.  Since we will both be
members of the ‘undead’, I think this will be beneficial.   I place my candles in
my protective circle and sit in the center of them.  Then, I light each candle;
black - to keep the negative energies away, white – to draw the positive
energies near, purple - for Maya, a blue one for me -representing the sadness
and sorrow in my heart that I’ve felt since she left and a yellow one for hope.  I
sit for hours reciting incantations, dripping wax into the spirit vessel and around
the edges of the protective circle and some onto myself (for luck – I’m a bit
superstitious).  When the candles are mere specks of wax without any wicks
left, I put them into the spirit vessel and recite several more spells.  

Next is the part I’ve been dreading.  I need to open Maya’s casket and cut her
open to put the instruction sheet into her chest cavity.  Once the instructions
are firmly bound within her, she will have to follow them no matter what.
Essentially, she’ll be like a programmed robot.  I only wrote good things on the
instruction sheet, like love and honor me forever, kill anyone who tries to harm
me – stuff like that.  I think Maya would approve.

I warily step outside of my protective circle with my mortician tools and climb
down into Maya’s grave.  I pry open the casket and yes, there she is in all her
dead glory.  I’ll snip the stitches holding her eyes and mouth shut later, after I’m
done with the incision – just in case I’ve done something wrong and she comes
to life early, I don’t want her to see me cutting into her.  At least this way, with
her eyes sewn shut, if that happens, she’ll be less likely to know it’s me.

I take a deep breath and take out the scalpel.  I cut through her favorite dress (I’
ll explain to her later why I had to cut it) and then breathe deep one final time
before I cut into Maya.  She doesn’t scream or flail as I half expect her to, she
just lays there, cold and catatonic.  I use the clamp to pry apart her ribs and
then take the instruction sheet out of my pocket and out of the plastic I’ve
wrapped it in and then place it into Maya.  I deliver a few more incantations
before I sew her back up.  When I finish, I sit back and admire my work.  Maya
would be proud and I think there’ll be minimal scarring.  I snip the stitches on
her eyes and lips, leave her casket open, climb back out of the hole and crawl
into my protective circle.

My last quest is the reciting of the final spells to bring Maya back to me.  I have
about two hours before midnight and her birthday.  I figure it should be just
enough time to go through all my incantations.  If I can time it right, the final
spell will be released at exactly midnight by the ringing of a small bell I have
brought along solely for that purpose.

I put on Maya’s favorite flannel, minus the small swatch I had cut out for her
shrine, and place my unleavened black bread on a small napkin in front of me
along with a small bottle of unfermented grape juice.  The only things I will have
eaten all day will be representations of death in honor of Maya.

I start by making a few smaller circles within my own circle of protection. Each
small circle represents an aspect of Maya that I love.  I recite a spell and take a
bite of the bread and sip of juice with each one drawn.  I spend the next two
hours reciting incantations and drawing signs of spells in the dirt and on
parchment.  My final spell ends at exactly midnight and I lean forward, as close
to the edge of my circle as I can, and ring the bell, summoning Maya to me.  I
try to peer into her grave, but my circle isn’t close enough – a purposeful
choice on my part for protection, but I still try.

I wait not so patiently and hear and see nothing.  I figure I must have forgotten
something or done something wrong and then I hear her.  At first it’s just a
small moan and then I hear her thrashing and wood breaking.  I see dirt and
pieces of casket fly up out of the grave.  I scoot back away from the edge of my
circle to the opposite side. I suddenly don’t want to see Maya’s revival.  I hear
her scream and all the pain and torment in the world is inside of that scream, it
pierces my undead ears and I cover them in reaction.  Then I see hands
reaching out of the grave.  She climbs up, falling several times before finally
making it to the surface.  I’m still in my circle as I watch her stumble from
tombstone to tombstone, smashing each one she touches in the process.  I feel
sorry for any pain I must have inflicted on her when she brought me back, but I
am glad that I can’t remember any of it and I desperately hope she doesn’t
either.

When she sees me, she runs toward the circle but stops abruptly at the edge.
She does a weird kind of stumble-walk-run around the edge of the circle, trying
to get through to me, but my protection holds up and I am ever thankful for
having read so many books on necromancy.  Finally, she falls to the ground, in
exhaustion.

“Go to sleep, Maya.  When you wake up, you’ll feel better, more like yourself,
and I’ll be right here waiting for you,” I say from the middle of my circle where I
have unconsciously moved to.

She doesn’t move or acknowledge my voice, just lies there and I fall asleep
myself after a while, watching her unmoving, undead body.
I startle awake and quickly get to my feet, searching the last place I remember
seeing Maya before I fell asleep.  She isn’t there.  I spin around and then I see
her.  She’s sitting by her own headstone which is now broken in half. She’s
holding the dead flowers I had put in her shrine.  She looks at me and smiles.
“It’s about time you woke up.  I was getting nervous,” she says as she comes
near my circle.
She still can’t cross over the protective edge, so I step out of it to meet her. She
hugs me in the tightest hug I’ve ever had and I swear I can hear some of my
bones cracking.
“I’m starving,” she says.
I take her hand and say, “Good.  We have to perform a sacrifice in exchange
for your summons.  And, I know a few old, laughing friends I might like to start
with.”