Remebrances

When I was still a very little boy, I made a cherished friend of death. Death became my protector, my solace, my refuge of last resort. It was not so much that I had made the connection that I could take my own life. It was simply that I had come to believe that, if my life became unhappy enough, some deliverance, in the form of some quick, tragic accident, would fall upon me and sweep me away from my tiny, perfect misery. To me, death was a beautiful thing, noble and preserving, and if timely enough, the one thing that would save me from growing up and assuming the burdens I could see weighing down the adults around me, and from the natural changes that I had begun to perceive would befall me one day, stripping from me the purity that even then I understood myself to possess; a fragile gift that life slowly buffs away from every child. Only if death would smile upon me, gentle and kind, would I be forever, what I was.

In my dreams, and in my daydreams, I was haunted by bright spectres of children passed away, friends who I did not know, but who beckoned to me to join in their eternal spring and boundless youth. I would lie on my back beneath the summer sky and see in the clouds the frothy kingdoms in their sway; the freedom of the 60s so recently past mirrored forever in their journeys. In pressing my ear to the telephone poles, I would imagine the deep-throated electrical hum to be the sound of their hands, rubbing the wood as they hurried around and around it just below me, like some subterranean Maypole of death. I would almost hear their laughter, and I would yearn so deep inside nearly to split me open, and launch up my soul, like some butterfly bursting forth from a cocoon. I would see my happy friend, death, in teasing glimpses; always close by me, but never taking my hand. And every day I woke up, still weighted down by the flesh, and by fear, and by sorrows too tiny and crystal-sharp to be remembered.

My sense of it all became only more acute with passing time. As I grew in years and wisdom, I sensed my moment slipping away. One day the news came that a boy I’d known, a couple of years older than me, had been struck by a car as he rode his bicycle home from the store. The drunken driver had left him there, in the ditch, perhaps never even knowing. To me, who and what the driver had been were completely unimportant: he was merely the anonymous instrument by which my friend had acquired that longed-for ascension. And when I heard the news, my thoughts passed only lightly over the shattering grief of the mother who had carried him, the father who had watched him grow, and the teenage brother and sister who had had a part of themselves ripped away like teeth. What blazed in me was a curious jealousy, that he had made it, achieved election to that coveted elite that eluded me. I was still too young to appreciate the horror of it; the wrenching pain both physical and mental. I saw only a moment’s suffering, the nobility of the shed blood, the dimming of the light as newfound friends appeared, pressing closer. To me, it was nothing more than a higher, liberating birth, with beauty and honour preserved. Why him, instead of me? I wanted to be lamented. Bereaved. Too late the cherished boy, petrified forever in memory, and innocence. Saved from those trials and sins that would surely have tarnished me.

And then it happened: the world showed me at last what it had to offer, and I learned to fear death. The glorious wickedness of the world rose around me, and showed me what a joy it was to be an animal, however finite, and intoxicated me with the realm of sensuality. And the worst betrayal of all was that I gave myself over to it, and quietly lost my soul. Just as I had feared I would.

Nearly two decades had passed with me firmly, and willingly, fixed to this world when it happened. It was very late on a Friday night. I might even say it was really Saturday morning. Quiet and alone, I pushed a wobbly wheeled cart through a suburban supermarket, glancing down at a list on an envelope and keeping true to it like some ersatz revision of the Ten Commandments; thou shalt buy canned corn. The shalt nots were unlisted, but assumed to be anything not on the list.

I pushed the cart into the very heart of the supermarket, the broad, town square of the frozen foods, with its waterless reflecting pools filled with cheap dinners and bargain garbage pizzas. Across the wide vista I saw an elderly woman, paused. In the glass before her, I could see the consternation, the deep self-absorption in her features, and I suddenly knew, just as she was becoming aware, that she was in acute distress. She staggered, falling to her knees, and then rolled onto her side with a strange little cry.

There were other people in the aisle, and their strangeness to this woman evaporated as they hurried to her. A man in a white smock who clearly worked at the store took charge of the efforts on her behalf, but I myself, for some reason, held back. Fascinated. A few people crowded in close to the woman, and a few hung by at the ready. But one, I noticed, milled about, hands behind his back, watching. He looked to me a bit like Jimmy Durante, dressed in corduroy, and I noticed he cast no shadow. Not even onto himself. His features, his clothes, every aspect of him was lit in the same, even, pale illumination. With a soft smile he glanced up at me, and tapped the brim of his fedora in greeting. And I knew who it was, and a chill of recognition ran over me like cold tap water.

Everything slowed down… the motions of the people became lethargic. The sounds of their voices became thick and syrupy, as did the quiet Muzak cheerfully seeing this woman off. I watched my old friend step out of sight beyond the edge of the row. When everything was still, and the only sound was the electric hum and my own breathing, I abandoned my cart, and ran down the row, past the shoppers who were now statuary, a study of a community in common crisis. Rounding the corner, I fully expected to find him gone, but there he stood, amongst the cereals, casual, waiting.

“You do remember, don’t you?” he said.

“How could I forget?” I croaked, softly. “It hasn’t been that long, even for me.”

“The way we used to run together,” he said. “You always had the gift.”

“Why didn’t you…” I began. But it was a question from a five year old, and my adult voice balked at it.

“I understand,” he said. “Why didn’t I come for you as a blossom instead of an ordinary orange, is that right?”

“Something like that.” I was a bit stung, the way a person might be when a spurning friend or lover explains the hows and whys.

“Did it ever occur to you, that however beautiful the blossom might be, the world has more need of the oranges?”

“But why not me? There were others…”

“Paul,” he said. My friend on the bike.

“Yeah,” I whispered.

“There are reasons. For everyone, where and when, it all has to work together.”

“Will I understand one day?”

“Probably not. But it won’t seem important to you then.”

I nodded softly.

“It all comes out the same, I promise you,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

He raised his arm slowly, and in its wake, the real world faded like the broken ripples of a pond… and beneath them, I saw, just for a moment, a glimpse of what had once been so real for me. In laughter, at play, so clean and colourful. A girl met my gaze, and smiled. I don’t know how I knew, or how my soul recognized her without needing my eyes, but I knew, without even the sense of realization, that this little girl, and the woman lying behind the row, were one and same. And I finally understood that the redemption was assured, and I had not missed some golden chance. I could carry on with what the world demanded of me, and still come out alright. Then the ripples faded, and with them the man, the figure of my old friend, and I stood alone while some flatulent trombone quietly squeezed out “Paperback Writer” on the PA over my head.

People seemed awkward, wondering to themselves if they should continue such a mundane task as picking up groceries in the wake of what had happened. For myself, I returned to my cart, and observing a moment of respectful reflection, I went about finding the canned corn.

Chance of a Ghost

CBC NEWS SPECIALS
"Chance Of A Ghost"

Written by

Andy Byers

ACT ONE

Ext. – Evening. late autumn dusk in front of the Supreme Court Building, Ottawa

"CHANCE OF A GHOST"

JASON STANKOVIC

Good evening, and welcome to this very special presentation of CBC News. I’m Jason Stankovic; behind me, the Supreme Court Building in Ottawa, where sometime tomorrow, the highest court in the land is expected to release its decision on the status of revenant persons — or, as they’re more usually known, ghosts — in Canada. At stake, a number of issues, including political and property rights, legal rights and obligations, and a host of other contentious issues that have been in legal limbo across the country and around the world for years. The matter was fast-tracked to the Supreme Court by special request of the Speaker of the House of Commons on a procedural matter: does Alberta MP David Yaremko, who died in traffic accident last summer, have the right to continue to sit as the Member for Edmonton—St. Albert? With some background, here’s Jeanette Tremblay.

CUT TO:

Int. wood-paneled office.

Shot of David Yaremko, in life, looking at ease in his office, speaking breezily to someone off-screen.

JEANETTE TREMBLAY (V.O.)

David Yaremko was first elected to Parliament six years ago from the riding of Edmonton—St. Albert. Re-elected last year, he was a rising star in Conservative caucus until his death in a multiple-car pile-up on Alberta’s Highway 2 last June threw his political future into doubt.

CUT TO:

Ext. - Day side of a highway.

Police mill around several mangled cars. Roadside flairs can be seen.

JEANETTE TREMBLAY (V.O.) (Cont'd)

Just a few years ago, the accident would have put a tragic end to all things for Yaremko. But unique in Canadian political history, Yaremko experienced that recent and increasingly common phenomenon: he ‘survived’ his own death as a revenant… a ghost.

CUT TO:

Int. Parliament buildings.

David Yaremko, now translucent, is seen giving a press conference in the foyer of the House of Commons.

DAVID YAREMKO, MP

(voice slightly hollow, with a subtle echo)

For me, the bottom line is this. I was elected by the people of Edmonton-St. Albert to represent them. I took that oath in good faith, and regardless of the change in my physical appearance, I am still here and I feel bound by that oath. I mean to represent the people who sent me here to the best of my ability, so long as I am able and they continue to wish me to do so.

REPORTER (O.S.)

Mr. Yaremko, do you intend to run in the next federal election?

DAVID YAREMKO, MP

Well, the matter of my incumbency is still before the courts, unresolved, so I’d say it’s a little early to decide that. When the time comes to make a decision on that, I’ll be guided by the counsel of my family, my riding association, and my constituency.

CUT TO:

1. Ext. – Day. in front of the lawn on Parliament Hill.

Jeanette Tremblay is seen on the Hill in autumn clothing, holding a microphone.

JEANETTE TREMBLAY

With Parliament in extended summer recess pending the decision, the matter of whether or not David Yaremko has the right to sit in the House of Commons hasn’t come to a head. At least not here. Back in his home riding in Alberta, there is confusion as to whether or not a by-election needs to be held to replace Yaremko, or even if the Tories should replace him with another, living, candidate. Yaremko’s work on committees, his advocacy of his constituents’ issues, even his right to communicate as the Member for Edmonton-St. Albert: all these matters have yet to be decided. How the Constitution can, will, and should address these matters, and others, we will learn tomorrow when the Supreme Court announces its decision. Jeanette Tremblay, CBC News, Ottawa.

CUT TO:

Ext. – Evening. late autumn dusk in front of the Supreme Court Building, Ottawa

JASON STANKOVIC

Most viewers this evening can easily remember a time when ghosts were a matter of speculation, fiction, superstition, and dreams. All that changed not quite ten years ago when, for the first time, revenant persons began appearing and forming a part of our experience in the waking world. But how did it all get started? What changed? With a look back at the phenomenon, here’s a report by CBC reporter Shawn Mohsin.

CUT TO:

Ext. – Day. Street scene in Japan outside apartment building.

SERIES OF SHOTS:

1. People are wandering around. Shocked expressions.

2. Camera cranes up the front of the building to the balcony of what is presumably the crime scene.

SHAWN MOHSIN (V.O.)

It was a little over nine years ago when the first modern, documented case of revenancy, the survival of a human personality after physical death, occurred. It was here, in the Japanese city of Saitama, that 22-year-old Ishikawa Tenaka, appeared to her grieving family three days after her death in the very apartment in which she was found murdered.

CUT TO:

Int. Police interview room.

Grainy, high-contrast video of the ghost of Ishikawa Tenaka being interviewed by police detectives.

SHAWN MOHSIN (V.O.) (Cont'd)

The appearance of Ishikawa Tenaka made headlines around the world. She accused her landlord of murdering her when she refused to give in to his demands for sex in lieu of her rent payments. The man was charged and brought to trial within days. While the presiding judge ruled against Ishikawa giving direct testimony during the trial, he did, however, admit her statements to police into evidence, and these were instrumental in a verdict of guilty being reached against the accused.

CUT TO:

Int. – Day. A sunlit sitting room.

Tenaka is being interviewed by a camera crew.

SHAWN MOHSIN (V.O.) (Cont'd)

Skeptical scientists the world over deluged Japan in an attempt to prove her appearance was a hoax. She was denounced by some conservative religious figures as either a demon or an attempt to discredit long-standing orthodox doctrines. But it quickly became clear that Ishikawa was exactly what she appeared to be: the ghost of pleasant young woman whose physical life had been cut violently, tragically short.

SERIES OF SHOTS:

1. A series of rapid cuts show Tenaka waving to crowds…

2. Kneeling at prayer in a shrine…

3. Sitting by a river…

4. And seated with the Pope.

SHAWN MOHSIN (V.O.) (Cont'd)

Tenaka became a worldwide celebrity, an icon for people who had lost loved ones, and anyone who ever wondered about what happens to human beings after death. The Pope flew to Japan for an audience with her. Some of the same religious leaders who had dismissed her now proclaimed her a sign of the end times predicted in the Book of Revelation.

A shot of Tenaka’s family, tearfully addressing the press.

SHAWN MOHSIN (V.O.) (Cont'd)

Tenaka was last seen about five months after her death. After that, she disappeared and has not been heard from since. It is presumed that her spirit has dissipated, or moved on to whatever ultimately awaits us.

Several shots of other ghosts, first as photographed in life, then as seen after their deaths.

SHAWN MOHSIN (V.O.) (Cont'd)

But by then, other revenants began appearing elsewhere in the world. Within the first year of Tenaka’s appearance, hundreds of others. Within two years, thousands. Nine years later, by some estimates, some half a million revenants have been observed; there may be, or have been, many more. All of this has led to great upheavals in every society on the globe, causing thorny legal, practical, and religious issues that may take generations to iron out.

CUT TO:

Ext. – Day. A large, modern, institutional-looking building in Geneva.

Reporter Shawn Mohsin stands before the building, its impressive fountain and sculptures, addressing the camera.

SHAWN MOHSIN

But how did all this get started? Why are ghosts suddenly a reality, when for most of human history they were simply a rumour common to all cultures? These are questions being asked here, at the recently-inaugurated World Revenant Organization in Geneva.

CUT TO:

Int. an office inside the World Revenant Organization Building.

A scientist is addressing an off-screen reporter.

SHAWN MOHSIN (V.O.)

The theories range from the sublime to the absurd, running the gamut of scientific to religious and back again. Dr. Helena Fischer, a leading researcher into the question of how and why revenancy came about, spoke with us about the leading theories.

DR. HELENA FISCHER

(heavily German-accented speech)

Some of the more intriguing theories involve variations in solar radiation, or the Earth passing through the debris left by a comet’s tail. Some people have suggested it’s a new stage in human evolution. I’ve even heard people suggest that revenants have been with us all along, but that our world concepts prevented us from seeing or acknowledging them. Some Christian authorities have put forward the theory that the presence of revenant people means that Heaven and Hell are filling up, and that we are to understand this to signify the oncoming of Armageddon and the return of Christ.

SHAWN MOHSIN

Which theory do you favour personally?

DR. HELENA FISCHER

Quite frankly, I haven’t formed an opinion on the matter, though I tend to favour the scientific explanations. But so far, I haven’t seen anything I’d consider conclusive proof. Honestly, I don’t think anyone really knows yet why we are seeing people remain after death, or by what mechanism it occurs.

SHAWN MOHSIN

What do we know so far?

DR. HELENA FISCHER

We know that ghosts are real. They have form, intelligence, and the personality characteristics of the people they were in life. They have no mass, but they are capable of interacting with physical objects probably by means of learning to modulate their energy into fields that repel electrons. The mutual repulsion of electrons is really all there is to the solidity of ordinary matter. When a revenant person learns to master that skill, he or she is capable of moving, holding, and otherwise manipulating objects. We also know, though we’re not sure why, that revenant persons are somehow restrained from deliberately causing the living physical harm. We’ve had numerous instances in which revenants have accused and even harassed the living people responsible for their deaths, but no instances in which the deceased extracted a physical revenge.

SHAWN MOHSIN

Are there any indications why some people are becoming ghosts when they die when the vast majority of people don’t?

DR. HELENA FISCHER

Again, this is a matter of speculation. For the most part, revenation seems to occur, as it was often supposed in literature, when the deceased person had compelling unfinished business in life. Very often, this is as a result of homicide, and typically, the revenant person dissipates within a month or two of the resolution of whatever prompted them to remain in the world of the living in the first place. Single parents of very young children also seem more likely than average to be prone to revenation, continuing to exist until they see their children safely placed. But often, there seems to be no clear cause. The most notable example is Kyle Markley of the rock band Tremble Snake. He died of a drug overdose six years ago, but has not moved on. He simply seems, as they say, not ready to go. We’re also not sure why some revenations are of fairly short duration, a few months to a year, while others seem to persist year after year. The record right now is something like eight years, nine months, held by a revenant in India.

SHAWN MOHSIN

Is there any indication that revenancy might suddenly stop, disappearing as quickly as it began?

DR. HELENA FISCHER

Not if the numbers are any indication. Each year since it began, the frequency of revenancy has gone up, though it seems to be leveling off. Nine years ago, fewer than one person in 10,000 who died became a ghost. This year, the figure is approaching one in a hundred. Your own country now has a Member of Parliament in this position.

SHAWN MOHSIN

That would be David Yaremko. Do you feel he should be allowed to retain his seat?

DR. HELENA FISCHER

I don’t see why not. The people who elected him did so on the basis of what he knows and what he believes, not how he looked or what he could do with his body. All the things they elected him for still remain. If he wishes to continue to represent them, and they are happy for him to do so, then it ought to be so.

SHAWN MOHSIN

Dr. Fischer, thank you for speaking to us.

DR. HELENA FISCHER

You’re quite welcome.

CUT TO:

Ext. – Day. A large, modern, institutional-looking building in Geneva.

Reporter Shawn Mohsin stands before the building, its impressive fountain and sculptures, addressing the camera.

SHAWN MOHSIN

The people here at the World Revenant Organization will continue to ask the questions about revenancy, and to search for the answers. Meanwhile, in countries around the world, like Canada, answers to more practical questions about the place of ghosts in society are coming to a head. Shawn Mohsin, CBC News, Geneva, Switzerland.

CUT TO:

Ext. – Evening. late autumn dusk in front of the Supreme Court Building, Ottawa

JASON STANKOVIC

We’ll consider the legal issues at stake when we return after these messages. Stay with us.

FADE OUT.

END OF ACT ONE

ACT TWO

Ext. – Evening. late autumn dusk in front of the Supreme Court Building, Ottawa

Jason Stankovic standing before the Supreme Court Building.

JASON STANKOVIC

Welcome back to our special presentation on the Supreme Court's pending decision on the rights of ghosts in Canada. Before the break, we examined the history of revenancy and the particular circumstance that has brought the question David Yaremko's place in Parliament to the doorstep of the Supreme Court. But there are other questions before the court to be settled. What are the rights of revenants in society, if any? Do they enjoy they same legal, constitutional, and human rights as they did in life, or do special and different rights apply to them, or are they outside of the law altogether? With a report on some of the other issues to be decided tomorrow, here's the CBC's Fred McNaulty.

Ext. - Day. Court building in New Brunswick

The flags of Canada and New Brunswick flap on poles outside an imposing court building.

FRED MCNAULTY (V.O.)

Businessman Marc Laval of Sackville, New Brunswick, spent forty years building up his lumber and construction supply business into a going concern worth over eight million dollars. When he died four years ago, his sons, Brian and Timothy, expected to inherit the business and divide it between them.

Intercut: Photographs of Marc Laval and his family from life.

FRED MCNAULTY (V.O.) (Cont'd)

But within days of his death, Marc Laval returned to his family as a ghost. He objected to his will being executed and having his property being dispersed. His sons contested that, saying that since their father was no longer alive and able to meet all the obligations of the business, that it was in the best interests of everyone that the will be executed. A judge agreed, and Marc Laval's lifetime of work was passed to others before his eyes.

Ext. - Night. Something like a dimly lit park bench in winter

MARC LAVAL

It breaks my heart that they could do this to me, their own father. I wouldn't mind if were gone or looking down from Heaven or something… but I'm still here. People can still see me and hear me. It's my business. I built it, and even if I don't have body, I still have a mind and a soul and I think what's mine is mine. I should still have some say. I'm a Korean War veteran. I thought I fought for something… the rights of people. Is this it?

Ext. - Day. Another court house.

FRED MCNAULTY (V.O.)

Meanwhile, right next door in the province of Quebec, an entirely different approach.

Intercut: Photos of Serge Plante and his family from life.

FRED MCNAULTY (V.O.) (Cont'd)

When Serge Plante of Val-d'Or died of a massive coronary two years ago, his wife became the sole beneficiary of all their property. Or so she thought. Serge filed suit to prevent his being disenfranchised of their joint estate on the basis of the legal definition of "death". His lawyers argued successfully that while he had suffered physical death of the body, he had not suffered the "cessation of being" used as the basis of other legal proceedings. Serge won his case. His wife of 37 years, Elaine, sued him for divorce, but ironically, her suit was dismissed on the basis that legally, the Plantes' marriage had ended at the time of Serge's physical death.

Ext. - Day. A pleasant garden foyer, open to the sky.

Serge Plante is being interviewed. He speaks French and his words are translated into English by a voice-over.

TRANSLATER VOICE-OVER

(translating the words of Serge Plante)

Nothing in all the years of my life hurt me as much as how my wife behaved after my heart stopped. If you'd told me, I would never have believed you. Not my Elaine, no. But when she saw me, she went into a rage and said I had come back to keep from her what was hers. Can you imagine? I became angry and fought for my rights. This is mine too, no matter what anyone says, till I'm finally gone. But to tell you honestly, I would much rather have gone straight on to God and whatever judgement, to be spared the pain of knowing how it really was with my Elaine and me. Much more pain than I felt when my heart stopped. That was just a few moments. This has been years. I hope no one else ever has to learn such things.

Ext. - Day. Outside the legislature in Victoria, British Columbia

Fred McNaulty addresses the camera as passers-by make their way through the background in front of the British Columbian Parliament Buildings.

FRED MCNAULTY

Across the country, a patchwork of legal opinions and decisions, enfranchising and disenfranchising the recently deceased who remain among the living. Those who support at least some property rights are Quebec, Newfoundland, and Alberta. But Saskatchewan and Ontario have come out against those same rights. Within provinces, conflicting opinions. Ontario does not support the rights of revenants to property or civil rights in the community, but at least three Native reserves in Ontario, the Six Nations, the Chippewas of the Thames, and the Asubpeeschoseewagong, have issued tribal council decrees embracing the rights of revenants on the reserves, at odds with provincial jurisprudence. And here, in British Columbia, conflicting decisions abound. Three months ago, a court here in Victoria held that revenants have a right to property acquired by legal means during natural life, but meanwhile, just across the Strait of Georgia in Vancouver, civil authorities last month refused a marriage license to a living woman and a revenant man partly on the basis of confusion over property rights.

Int. - Day. A university office.

A middle aged professor in a rather utilitarian office.

FRED MCNAULTY (V.O.)

We spoke with Professor Candice Montelli at Osgoode Hall in Toronto's York University about the matter of legal rights for revenants.

FRED MCNAULTY

Professor Montelli, why so many different decisions? Who's right?

PROF. CANDICE MONTELLI

Who's right depends on who you ask. Right now, the cases have gone no further than provincial courts. Part of the problem here is that marriage and property rights are a matter of civil law, and in Canada, civil law is a provincial jurisdiction.

FRED MCNAULTY

So every province can have a different law on the matter.

PROF. CANDICE MONTELLI

Well, yes and no. Civil law is provincial, yes. Nine of the provinces and all three territories have civil law systems based on English common law; Quebec is the exception. Its civil law is based on the Code Civil that it has in common with most countries of continental Europe. It's fine for provinces within Canada to have differences of opinion on matters of civil law; it happens all the time. But this matter touches on human rights, whose roots are ultimately federal, vested in the Charter of Rights and Freedoms and determined in the Supreme Court. See, these decisions are being made not so much on points of law as on what, exactly, it is to be human. That's a federal matter superseding anything the provinces decide.

FRED MCNAULTY

So when the Supreme Court rules on the matter…

PROF. CANDICE MONTELLI

It will be binding on all the courts in the country, federal and provincial. Whatever they decide will set the standard for how rights are allocated to revenants across the country.

FRED MCNAULTY

Do you feel that the Supreme Court ought to rule on the side of the revenants?

PROF. CANDICE MONTELLI

Well… it's not an easy question. But I feel that society will be better serviced by a certainty in how the law is applied, and that inclusion is always better than exclusion. I think for myself that if I were to wake up one morning and find I were a revenant, I would like to know that at least the same rights, privileges, and obligations still applied to me as they had the night before. People are people, regardless of whether you can see through them or not.

CUT TO:

Ext. - Day. A bright, wind-blown day on a university campus

Professor Scott Macgregor, a thin, elderly man with an athletic wiriness and sparse, white, fly-away hair addresses the camera with a certain bonhomie.

FRED MCNAULTY (V.O.)

But at Dalhousie Law School in Halifax, Nova Scotia, Professor Scott Macgregor expresses other concerns.

PROF. SCOTT MACGREGOR

There's a natural inclination in Western society these days to be inclusive. And that's a good thing where it makes sense, where there's a one-to-one relationship. Any two living human beings on Earth are going to have similar needs and somewhat similar expectations of life. We have deficiencies and liabilities in common. These keep us in check.

FRED MCNAULTY

What exactly do you mean, Professor?

PROF. SCOTT MACGREGOR

Well, take for example the idea of a ghost — or pardon me, a revenant — taking the stand in murder trial. In some cases, at least in other countries, someone's life could be on the line. Ordinarily, people are compelled to tell the truth by laws against perjury. But how do you compel someone to obey the law if there's no way to imprison them? So you apply a fine… and if they don't pay? It all comes back to depriving someone of his or her liberty, and so far, no one has ever come up with a way of 'locking up' someone with no body. They just pass through the bars; walk through the walls. So what's to stop them from saying whatever they please on the stand?

FRED MCNAULTY

Obviously there are differences of opinion about this…

PROF. SCOTT MACGREGOR

Oh, absolutely. Particularly in the United States. In Alabama, for instance, a revenant can be called to testify on the stand. In the next state over, Mississippi, they can't, because the courts there have ruled that the nature of revenancy puts them outside the ordinary compulsions of the law, so they're ineligible. Texas and Oregon have both ruled that revenants can testify only in cases directly related to their own demises… effectively, trials concerning their own murders.

FRED MCNAULTY

Have any of those cases made it to the US Supreme Court yet?

PROF. SCOTT MACGREGOR

They're percolating their way up… but it still remains to be seen if the US Supreme Court will even agree to hear any appeals. This is something they may see as a state issue. Law in the United States is generally more effusive than it is in Canada.

FRED MCNAULTY

Professor, how do you feel the Canadian Supreme Court should rule on this matter?

PROF. SCOTT MACGREGOR

I'd err on the side of caution. People have lived natural lives for millions of years and when it's time to go, it's time to go. No one knows why that's changed, but the fundamentals remain. There's a natural rhythm to the cycles of life. When we've reached the end of life, as demonstrated by the shedding of our material bodies, then it stands to reasons we also cast off our need for shelter, food, and material possessions. Those things ought to accrue to the living. Take wills, for example. If the court decides that a will cannot be probated until the dissolution of a ghost, how are we to know when that happens? Generally, when a person dies, we have proof in the form of a body. But what proof do we have when a revenant passes on or dissipates? All we have is silence, absence. There are no criteria available to us for deciding when is the right time to disperse a person's worldly possessions… except for physical death. That ought to be where rights cease.

CUT TO:

Int. - Day. A different office.

A different professor sits across from Fred McNaulty, both of them on camera together.

FRED MCNAULTY (v.o.)

But right at the same university, ethicist Tabitha Cho feels the urge to limit rights is short-sighted.

FRED MCNAULTY

Professor Cho, some people we've spoken to feel that rights end with the biological death of the person. Do you see it that way?

PROF. TABITHA CHO

No. I've heard those arguments and I understand the basis for them… they grease the wheels of situations that are pretty sticky and outside our experience till pretty recently. But I think they overlook a very real consideration. This is potentially in the future of any one of us. If we discriminate against revenants, we're potentially discriminating against ourselves. It's a new facet of discrimination in the law and we should have nothing to do with it.

FRED MCNAULTY

What do you mean by "new"?

PROF. TABITHA CHO

Well, when you think of traditional forms of discrimination, they were based on exclusion. One group as opposed to another. You're white; you'll never be Asian. I'm Asian; I'll never be black. You're a man, I'm a woman. Gender reassignment surgery aside, that's not something that generally changes. And so for most of history, discrimination was exercised by those in power out of the confidence that they would never realistically be in the position of the oppressed. But this is different. To be born is to die, sooner or later. Every one of us faces this as a possible eventuality… it's now a facet of our own mortality. And if not you or me, someone we love and care about. Our parents, our siblings, our children, our friends. Sooner or later it's bound to be someone we know, not just some stranger. The numbers indicate that nearly a percent of all the people dying today persist as ghosts. That's hundreds of thousands, even millions over the next coming decades, assuming the situation is constant.

FRED MCNAULTY

So you're saying "ask not for whom the bell tolls…"

PROF. TABITHA CHO

It was never more apt.

CUT TO:

Ext. - Day. Outside the legislature in Victoria, British Columbia

Fred McNaulty in front of the legislature, addressing the camera.

FRED MCNAULTY

Somewhere in the neighbourhood of a quarter of a million Canadians die every year. Do the math. That's roughly 2500 revenants across the country, each and every year. Some will persist only a few months, many for years. Exactly what the potential 'life span' of a revenant is, no one yet knows; it's possible it may be decades, perhaps even centuries, if there's anything to the old folklore about hauntings. So it seems very clear that this will be a growing problem for this country and every country until politicians like those here in the B.C. legislature, and jurists like those in the Supreme Court, give shape and direction to policy on revency. Fred McNaulty, CBC News, Victoria.

CUT TO:

Ext. – Evening. late autumn dusk in front of the Supreme Court Building, Ottawa

Jason Stankovic, in the company of two other people, addresses the camera.

JASON STANKOVIC

With me are Jack Middleton of our legal desk and Susan Buckminster of our social affairs bureau. We’ll be back to reflect on what you've just heard and discuss the likely outcome of tomorrow's decision when we return. Please stay with us.

FADE OUT.

END OF ACT TWO

ACT THREE

Ext. – Evening. late autumn dusk in front of the Supreme Court Building, Ottawa

Jason Stankovic standing before the Supreme Court Building accompanied by Jack Middleton and Susan Buckminster.

JASON STANKOVIC

Welcome back to our special presentation, "Chance of a Ghost". With me are Susan Buckminster and Jack Middleton. Jack, you've been following David Yaremko's bid to hold onto his seat in the Commons pretty closely. Given what you've heard in the halls of power, what's your take on his chances tomorrow?

JACK MIDDLETON

I think they're good, Jason. I think that basically, the court will come down on the side of expanding Charter rights rather than limiting them. That's been the trend of the court pretty much since the Charter was adopted in 1982. A policy of inclusivity would take a lot of the guesswork out of how to proceed from here, because all the decisions have long ago been made. If the court decides that the Charter and other rights and laws don't apply to revenants, then they're opening the country up to years of legal wrangling in uncharted waters. If for no other reason than it's safer and easier to simply bring revenants under the umbrella of existing law, I think the court will decide in David Yaremko's favour.

JASON STANKOVIC

Susan, you've been reporting on the social implications of revenancy for years. What's at stake if the court rules against David Yaremko?

SUSAN BUCKMINSTER

If the court decides against the extension of human rights to David Yaremko tomorrow, it has a host of implications for cases that are still pending a final outcome all over the country. If human, civil, and legal rights end with the death of body, that puts an entire class of beings outside of Canadian law and legal protection. There are numerous cases of types already discussed on the program this evening… property rights, political rights, marital rights, and so on. But they go beyond that to the very basis of what it is to be human. There are cases before the courts now having to do with parental access to children, rights to education and access to social services, rights to work-related benefits and to the jobs themselves, even the basic right to be heard before the courts or other tribunals. What the Supreme Court decides tomorrow affects people, living and dead, far beyond David Yaremko. It potentially affects every one of us when we die.

JASON STANKOVIC

Jack, back to you. What's the wider significance of tomorrow's decision?

JACK MIDDLETON

Well, you've probably heard it said by now, Jason, but it bears repeating: because David Yaremko's case has fast-tracked the issue in here, Canada stands to be one of the first major common law jurisdictions to issue a top-level legal decision on the matter. Now that decision isn't binding on any other country, of course, but common law countries tend to look to one another when a precedent is set. Initial precedent tends to be persuasive in these matters. What's decided here tomorrow will almost certainly figure in the arguments presented in courts far beyond our borders in countries will legal systems like our own. As well, countries with constitutions like ours, with embedded bills of rights in them, will also be looking to tomorrow's decision for hints on how to proceed.

JASON STANKOVIC

Okay, in summing up, quick predictions. Susan, what's going to happen tomorrow?

SUSAN BUCKMINSTER

The court will decide to extend Charter rights beyond the realm of biological life to revenants and clear up a lot of the confusion due to different interpretations from different provinces.

JASON STANKOVIC

Thanks, Susan. Jack?

JACK MIDDLETON

I agree; I think the court will extend rights, where applicable. I don't think the court's going to agree, like in The Life of Brian, that a man has the right to have a baby; the rights it extends are going to be ones that make practical sense. I don't think it's going to be a simple blanket answer. There are still going to be some issues that need to be worked out. But on the whole, I think most rights will be extended to revenant citizens of Canada.

Jason begins to take a few steps to stage right, followed by the panning of the camera. He stands next to the ghost of David Yaremko, MP, who has apparently been waiting off-camera.

JASON STANKOVIC

Jack, Susan, thanks for sharing your expertise and your opinions with us tonight. And now before we go, the last word goes to the person at the centre of all this, David Yaremko, the Member of Parliament for Edmonton-St. Albert. Mr. Yaremko, thank you for joining us this evening.

DAVID YAREMKO, MP

Thanks for having me on tonight, Jason. I guess I look a little different from the last time we spoke.

JASON STANKOVIC

Well, yes, that's certainly true. How have the last several months been for you personally?

DAVID YAREMKO, MP

Well, as you can imagine, it's been a big adjustment. My family has had to come to terms with all this, but they've handled it well. It's been tough on me personally too, of course. I've only just learned how to hold objects again in the last month or so. It's funny how much you take for granted and how much a triumph even the little things are. I guess I understand better now how people who've had accidents and have to learn to walk again feel.

JASON STANKOVIC

Was it a tough decision for you to take all this on after the accident?

DAVID YAREMKO, MP

No, not at all, Jason. You know… I always said I would love this country till I day I died, and, well… I never imagined I'd get the chance to say "and beyond" and mean it. But I do. I still love this land with everything I am. I swore an oath to the Crown and the people of Canada to serve them and the people who elected me, and I mean to do exactly that for as long as I am able. And if the people decide differently in the next election, it goes without saying that I'll abide by that, of course. But all I'm asking for is the right to try, like anyone else. Everything they really voted for, I still am, and I will serve them to the very best of my abilities.

JASON STANKOVIC

So you're clearly confident in your ability to do so.

DAVID YAREMKO, MP

There's no question in my mind, Jason. Absolutely none. My family is behind me, the support we've gotten from the people of Edmonton and Alberta and all across Canada has been overwhelming, and I'd like to take a moment to thank everyone out there who's written or phoned to encourage us. I want to say that I'm doing this for you too. This isn't just about one person's right to sit in the Commons. It's about the right of every one of us to be and feel human even after the most profound of life-altering experiences. I don't know how long I'll be here, but then who does? But as long as I am here, I'll be serving the people in whatever capacity I can.

JASON STANKOVIC

In winding up, do you feel confident about the court's decision tomorrow?

DAVID YAREMKO, MP

There were strong arguments made on both sides of the issue. But I feel — I'm sure — that our arguments were stronger and more persuasive, because we have fundamental justice on our side. You'll see due process served tomorrow, Jason, I'm sure. God willing, I will still be the Member for Edmonton-St. Albert at this time tomorrow.

JASON STANKOVIC

Thank you for talking with us, Mr. Yaremko. I'm sure I speak for everyone in the country when I say I admire your courage in the face of all you've had to endure, and in wishing you the very best of luck tomorrow.

DAVID YAREMKO, MP

Thank you, Jason.

JASON STANKOVIC

And that's it for our decision-eve special on tomorrow's Supreme Court decision on the rights of revenants in Canada. Tune in tomorrow for full coverage of that decision, which is expected at about 11 a.m. Eastern time. Coverage on most of these stations will begin at 7 a.m. in British Columbia, 8 in Alberta, 9 across the Prairies, 10 in Ontario and Quebec, 11 in the Maritimes, and 11:30 in Newfoundland. From the grounds of the Supreme Court Building in Ottawa, thanks for being with us this evening. For CBC News, I'm Jason Stankovic. Good night.

credits roll over shot of supreme court building.

THE END

Half a pound of freckles

Half a pound of freckles
___or so
___I think
God played connect the dots
___and made you
___joined one to the other
___one to the other
___ ___with skin
What will His picture do
Will it
___stand up and hold me
___offer me wine
___bear me a child
___hold my hand as sight grows dim
Or will it move
___animated
___a walk cycle that grows
___ ___ever more distant
Freckles fading

The Foreskin Project

THE FORESKIN PROJECT
A QUICK AND DIRTY PARODY OF
THE FORBIN PROJECT
by
Andy Byers

INT. NORAD HEADQUARTERS
A bunch of scientists and military men are going about their business at the height of the Cold War. The President strides in.

THE PRESIDENT
Okay, would somebody please tell
me what I just sold Puerto Rico
off to Sweden to finance?

SNIVELING SCIENTIST
Oh, Mr. President! Such news!
We've just created the world's
largest dildo! We call it
COLOSSUS.

THE PRESIDENT
Awesome. Why?

GENERAL WHUPASS
We're gonna shove it right up the
Russians' ass!

Alarms suddenly begin to ring and red lights flash.

THE PRESIDENT
I did not have sex with that
woman!

GENERAL WHUPASS
No, Mr. President, it's not
Congress. It's a national
security alert.

THE PRESIDENT
Well, what the fuck's going on?

COLOSSUS
(via overhead
teletype)
THERE IS ANOTHER DILDO

SNIVELING SCIENTIST
Oh, no, Mr. President! COLOSSUS
has detected that the Russians
have built a giant dildo too!

GENERAL WHUPASS
(reading from a
printout)
It says here the Russians have
called their dildo GUARDIAN, and
they intend to shove it up their
own ass so there'll be no room for
ours!

THE PRESIDENT
Those treacherous fucks.

Once again alarms go off and lights flash.

THE PRESIDENT
Aw, Christ, now what? The Chinese
just create the world's biggest
coal-powered vibrator?

SNIVELING SCIENTIST
Sir! The dildos are talking to
each other! They've just teamed
up! They say they want to fuck
everybody in the world!

THE PRESIDENT
Well, they certainly have a keen
grasp of American foreign policy.

NARRATOR (V.O.)
Will the dildos fuck everybody in
the world? Will the President
come out of the closet? Will you
tune in next time to find out?
Tune in next time to find out!

Solar Landscapes

They held me down and giggled
It was over in a flash but felt like days
And how long is a day on the sun?
Sweating without mercy, light exposing every sin

They spent those evenings
grasping at bras
looking for any way out
of an innocence
___perennially protested

All quiet,
All encompassing,
All forgiving the forest loomed
___swallowed us up undigested
___raw, and weeping from every pore
It might have been Mars
It might have been death
___:it was neither
___:it was only respite
___:it was moments spent in misplaced
___ ___unknown
___ ___ ___dis
located

We always came back
always came back
___for more

And more
___there always was
___ ___Sweat
___ ___and light unbounded

Falling sin

Bare of foot and
Fair of hair she stands
Bat at her shoulder, cap at a weird angle,
Saucy snap of bubblegum
Swing and a miss, one foot in the puddle
Of the once and future rain.
Innocence is painted over with toenail polish
That’s the falling sin.

Where is Heaven?

Where is Heaven?
Silently the trees point

The milestones of Heaven—
Here is one of them:
That first unsheltered glimpse
of another soul
___fragile and frail
______at your mercy
Here divides the road

Whither Heaven?
Seek the trees.

In chorus

Sing invisible
Pour your throats out into the night
Across the lake
___The ripples spread in all directions
______Forever
My ears drink the wine;
My mind sets sail upon it

Northern

The only snow
is the stars in the sky,
shovel-thick,
spread over the blacktop of eternity

Shaded

In here
In never noticing you
the small soft spot in my soul
___Leaf-guarded, armoured by
___wind and sun and rain
Survived to blossom
Without the need to push
___through the pavement

Constitution

As darkness falls, we'll candles light;
When all around us vision fails:
And guard them closely through the night,
Until at dawn the light prevails.

Blow My Stack

Syrup flows down my cock; she calls it her
___Stack of pancakes
We laugh,
___but not for long.
She butters me with her tongue

___Jesus

All life came from the sea

the blue-grey of my father's eyes
is warship steel, but
a drop
from a salty sea hangs in sorrow
from his eyelashes
put there by the storm
of his sister's eulogy

The Excalation (ii)

Running through a nightmare from which she can't awaken, she has shrugged me off and run outside into the the snow. When I realize she has stopped in the yard, I hold back, standing on the porch. She takes in the look of her former home. It's a tapestry of change. The muted, sedate colours of her memory have been replaced by brighter, more garish ones in the recent past, and then themselves been weathered and stripped by time. She shakes her head slowly, but there is no waking up.

I come down off the porch, hands in my pockets. She is in a summer dress and black buttoned boots that are no match for December, and I don't have my coat on. "Please, Mrs. Kent, come back inside," I beg her, for my own comfort as much as hers.

"There's not even a fire," she murmurs.

"I can make that right, if you help me."

She turns to look at me. Then past me, to my car parked in the drive. "What is it?"

"That's an automobile. It's sort of like... it's kind of a mix between a carriage and a locomotive. They used to call them horseless carriages a long time ago. It's how I got here today. We're about half an hour out of town."

"But town is a day's journey."

"Well, a couple of things have changed. The roads are better, cars go pretty fast, and the town is a lot bigger now."

There is a whine overhead and she cries out, crouching. Something large and dark moves through the sky high above us.

"...And we're also on the flight path to the airport, yeah..." I say, slightly embarrassed as I come forward. Frightened, she watches it, the hopelessness in her face only compounded. "It's called an airplane. That one is a jetliner. It can carry a couple of hundred people between cities in an hour or two. It can cross the Atlantic in six or seven."

"Have you... have you been up there?"

"Yes. Millions of people fly in them every day. I'll tell you about it if you come back inside."

She is coaxed in, if perhaps for no other reason than to get out from under an open sky full of new threats.

I lead her to the sitting room, where the hearth still stands. "Tell me about this room, please," I ask her. "And I'll make it like it was."

Distracted, but throwing her mind back, she picks through the details of what she recalls. Incidental things rather than the broad strokes I'm really looking for, but if it calms her down, that's the important thing right now. I sit, concentrate, and visualize. I hear her gasp. "It's true," she says. I open my eyes to find her looking around in awe.

"Is it like you remember?"

"No," she says. "But it's better than it was."

And there are practical advantages. Now there is seasoned firewood, kindling, matches, pokers, bellows. I'm no expert, but it's not rocket science to light a fire, and in a few minutes, there's at last some warmth to the room. I remember the coffee I've brought and excuse myself to get it.

Alexandra holds the plastic cup off the top of the thermos in hands shaking not with the cold but nerves. I take coffee black, but in the greatest of ironies, we've been able to lighten it and sweeten it with sugar and cream laid out for her wake a century and a quarter ago. In another irony, since she is drinking from the thermos cup, I drink from the recreated china, noticed only after I'd poured for her.

What do you say to a woman brought back from her own funeral, only to face the reality that her family has, as a result, predeceased her by decades? I say, "A lot has changed since..." Since what? Since you died? "...in the last hundred years or so. Some good, some bad..."

She swallows the coffee in a sudden, impulsive gesture. "What am I going to do? Where will I go?"

Those are good questions. I don't even know how you begin looking for help in a case like this. "Were you still living here when... in 1882?"

"No, Bill and I lived in the village. We moved there last summer."

"Do... did you have any children? Perhaps you still have family living there."

She shakes her head, slowly. "Oh, Bill," she whispers, and begins to cry.

I'm on the verge of saying something... something I know will be blithe and dishwatery, but what do you say at such a moment?... when suddenly she looks up, her face scarlet, her hands clenched in fists set to beat a drum. She hisses, "This isn't real. It cannot be real. This is all a dream, a ghastly dream." She darts her eyes at me. "And you're a devil. I swear."

I feel stung. I have been only kind and patient, and I am, after all, the reason she's alive at all, no matter how bewildering the circumstances might be. She went to sleep, and she has woken up, seemingly hours later, the void of a century of death forgotten, forgiven even. Absolved by my skills, if only in ignorance. Still. "I'm no demon," I coldly reply. "I gave you your life back."

Her face changes. She knows she's been unfair. "I'm lost," she wails; a sort of apology.

"Mrs. Kent..." I take a breath, I dare: "Alexandra. Please. Listen. It's not a bad time to be alive. There's so much that you can do now. I understand, believe me, that you're grieving. You have so much to grieve. But you're alive. There's hope for better days."

She doesn't seem shocked by my sudden familiarity. Either the strangeness of the circumstances has overcome it, or I overestimated the stiffness of Victorian formality. In either case, she seems to settle into it. Her face slips slowly into her hands again, and I am silent as she weeps, the room otherwise soundless but for the uncaring snap of the fire.

The first interruption of her sorrows is the comically melodic ringing of my cell phone. She raises her head, perplexed at the odd little tune I'm suddenly playing. "I'm sorry," I say. "It means someone wants to speak with me." I show her, taking the little box from my pocket. "Forgive me. I'll just be a moment." I rise and walk to the doorway. This must be a new thing for her; a person excusing himself from her company to speak to someone who's not even there; an entirely new fashion in rudeness.

"Hello?"

As I expected, it's the client, Mr. Michaels. "Hi, Mr. Darie, it's me. I'm just calling to find out how it's going."

Instantly I decide the best course is to say nothing; I don't need him showing up full of questions, possibly complicating the deal. The vision of a crowd of reporters hits me square in the face. "It's going about as I well as I expected," I tell him. "Two rooms are restored, so far."

"Oh. That's good," he says, having no idea idea whether it is or not.

"Who is that? Who are you talking to?" Alexandra can't help herself. She's curious. Maybe a trifle offended; it is, in her mind, still her family's house that I'm talking about, with some stranger. My hand shoots up to invoke her silence. She frowns but complies.

Fortunately she has not be overheard. "So everything is on schedule?" he asks.

"Everything is fine," I say.

"Good, I'll see you this evening, then," he says. We bid one another good-bye and hang up.

I turn back to Alexandra. I arleady know there's no way I'm going to get the house done today. But if Michaels has to wait a day or two, well, that's just how it's going to be. Something unforeseen and rather more important has just come up; literally, from the grave. I'll deal with Michaels later, whatever his mood is when the time comes.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I didn't mean to be rude. Obviously I couldn't just tell someone what's just happened here. I don't think either one of us wants a lot of other people showing up. Not right now."

"You were speaking to... who, the man who... owns the house now?"

I nod. "Jason Michaels. He and his wife Cindy bought it last fall. They've hired me to restore it."

"And that's why I'm here?"

"Yes."

Her face takes on a distant look; just a hint of horror in her eyes. "It was typhoid," she murmurs. "I remember hearing them say it. As I lay there. I remember thinking it would be a long time before I was well again." Boy, she got that right. She searches my eyes. "Did I really die? Or has your magic just brought me straight here?"

"I don't know," I tell her. "But I expect you really did die. The photo is from your wake." The details I've heard of cases like this, few and far between, are sketchy at best.

"Then where was I buried?"

"I have no idea. In the village, I guess."

She composes herself. "I want to see."

I almost laugh. "I don't really think that's a good idea."

"What did you say your name was?"

"Raymond Darie."

She straightens in her chair. "Raymond, then," she says. "Please. I must respectfully insist." Her eyes soften, penetrating. "I have to see. I have to know."

I'm at a loss. "I don't even know--"

"I know where the church yard is," she tells me.

"We'll have to take my car," I warn her.

She looks apprehensive, but steels herself and gives a nod. She rises, smoothing her skirts. She lets me place my winter jacket on her shoulders, and I lead her from the room.