The E Point

Part 1

Written by Tom Austin

It happened very quickly. First there were a series of flashes, then pain, a scream, then nothing. All he could remember was signing a record for some guy who was holding a book. He tried to remember the title of the book, but it was gone. Everything was gone. The street, the Dakota, Sean, and Yoko.

Wherever he was it was totally devoid of any color. Everything around him white. Even the escalator was white. He could see the top of the escalator. A man wearing a white suit with a white tie seemed to be waiting for him.

"Its been a long time John. But I'm glad you're here" said the man in the white suit.

John looked all around him. "Bloody hell, where am I ?" said an almost frantic John.

"You mean you really don't know?" replied the man in the white suit.

"How in hell should I. I've never been here before" said John

"Actually you have John. It was a long time ago when you were a young boy. You had a very high fever, but maybe my assistant could better help you" the man in the white suit said.

The man who had waited for John disappeared and the figure of a man John knew took his place.

"I think the last time we spoke was in 1967" said the assistant in white. The assistant died 13 years earlier, and was Johns ex-manager - Brian Epstein.

"Eppy? Is that you, and where the hell am I" asked John

"Its been a long time since anybody called me that. I'm so glad to see you. As for hell I can assure you you're not there. You're not at the other place either".

"You mean this isn't that heaven thingmybob ?". asked John

"No it's not that either. Think of it as a sort of rest station. A place to rest, get your bearings, or to simply ask for directions. Like you just did" replied Brian.

Together he and John walked and talked. They didn't walk in any particular direction, nor was there any destination. They just walked. "This may come to you as a shock but you're dead. Your body ceased to function just a few minutes ago. You were shot and you died from a massive loss of blood" said Eppy.

"You're off your trolley. Starkers. How could I be dead. " said John indignantly

"You're dead John. How do you think those holes got in your favorite jacket?" asked Brian.

John stuck his fingers through the holes. "Moths?".

"If you weren't dead you wouldn't be seeing or hearing me. Remember, I'm dead too" added Brian.

Just then was a flash, and John had turned completely white. Hair, eyes, fingers clothes. Everything was white. Brian looked at his watch.

"Right on time. Your body was just cremated. That’s why you're white. The jacket you died in has been destroyed. You'll be white for the remainder of eternity. Just over there is your room. I suggest you take a look".

John walked over to his new quarters and inspected them. On the bookshelves were copies of The Daily Howl, Mersey Beat, and a number magazines pertaining to the music industry. Beside the bed, which was covered in white sheets was a white night table. On the table was a white lamp, a white telephone and a copy of The White Pages. He picked up the handset of the phone.

"Hello operator, I'd like to make a long distance call to New York City" he said.

"I'm sorry but your call cannot be placed from this location. Feel free to try again Mr Lennon".

He picked up phonebook and thumbed through it. In it he found names he knew. Julia Lennon, Winston Churchill, and Mal Evans. This was the strangest phone book he had ever seen. It was thin, yet its pages made it very deep. And everybody was listed by category. If you were a watch maker you were in the watch makers section. If you died in a car accident you were in the car accident category. There was even a category for new arrivals. That's where John found his own name. It simply said John Lennon - Murder victim. The book fell, John cradled his face in his hands, and wept.

As John sat crying on the bed , thinking of the enormity of his situation, the pages moved magically to G-I-T Services. Curious he picked up the book and went outside his room. He saw Brian about a hundred yards away. He motioned to Brian to stay where he was, and John began his trek towards Brian. John walked for what felt like a mile.

"That was the longest one hundred yards I've walked in my life" said John.

Brian reminded John he was no longer alive and therefore had no life.

He also added that "distances were different here, and you'll get used to it after a few hundred years. It may seem childish but I get around on roller skates. I happen to carry a spare set for new arrivals such as yourself"

John took the skates, and after falling a few times was normal as could be.

"Uh, Brian what’s this G-I-T stuff mean?" John asked.

"It's really quite simple John. You can be a git if you want. Here you can be anything you want" replied Brian.

"I'm no git. I'm me" replied John indignantly

"No,no, no. You misunderstand. Git isn't what you think it is. GIT stands for Ghost In Training. I've been after the printer to change that ad. But do they listen to me. No ! Everytime we get a new arrival from the British Isles we get this problem" replied Brian.

"You mean I have to train to be a ghost ?. I thought it sorta came with the territory" said John.

"That’s right my friend. One of our prized pupils in GIT school is Buddy Holly. Only last month Buddy was at the top of the class. As for it "coming with the territory" as you put so quaintly it's a skill just like any other. If I remember correctly there's an opening in the class. Interested?" said Brian.

"Sign me up" said John somewhat anxiously.

Brian grasped a white pencil that appeared out of thin air and wrote on a white clipboard.

"Done. Now here’s a list of all the books you'll need for all the classes. I have a feeling you'll make a top notch GIT" and with that Brian vanished.

John took a look at the list of books and was intrigued. There at the top of the list were the word "Books Required For GIT Classes". There was "Rules And Regulations For Being A GIT, Chains, Moaning And Other Rubbish, The E Point, Attire And Deportment Of Ghosts, They Hollywood Ghost, and lastly Do's And Don'ts For GITS".

When John got to the class he discovered it was run by a Professor Wrinklebottom. John immediately dubbed him "Wrinkly". Johns academic prowess preceded him as Professor Wrinklebottom spoke.

"I see we have a new student in the class, a Mister John Lennon. I understand you're another of those musical types. Be that as it may welcome Mr Lennon. Find a seat and open the book Rules And Regulations please. And if you can restrain yourself from any pranks it would be most appreciated. Now where was I..." rattled on the professor.

Upon closer inspection John learned that ghosts have to go by very rigid rules. No chains or moaning allowed, no pranks that can cause bodily harm to mortals, the regulations regarding The E Point must be obeyed at all times, ghost may appear to any number of persons. The ghost is in charge of the numbers of persons which can see him/her, as well as being in charge of who hears him/her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a few months John graduated from GIT classes. While only a few months had passed for John many years had passed on Earth. John no longer had a toddler for a son, but a grown man. Yoko was re-enacting some of her more successful art exhibits. But Johns most important task was to discover where and what his E point was. The E point was the entry/exit point for all ghosts. It was imperative that he return to this realm in exactly the same manner in which he left it. When he returned to his room he saw a strange object. It was a full length mirror. There was a note attached. It was from Brian. John recognized the handwriting and read the note.

"Dear John: I want to congratulate you. Professor Wrinklebottom tells me you did very well on your final exam. This is your E point. Never let anybody else use it, and take great care of it. Now that you are officially a ghost I suggest you make a reservation for travel.

Great going you old GIT

B.E.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Paul had a very important meeting this morning. And he had to wear a tie. He hated ties. Ties were the worst thing ever invented by the human race. But ties were a necessary evil in the business world. The worlds of music and business frequently collided. And this was one of those times when they crashed head on.

Paul went to straighten his tie in the mirror. As he stood in front of the mirror he noticed it was cloudy. He checked the knot, and made sure it was as close to perfect as he could get it. The mirror was getting more and more cloudy by the minute. Soon Paul couldn't see himself at all. Then he noticed mist coming out of the mirror. Then a leg.

"Bloody Hell !".

Soon after the leg appeared he saw an arm. Then another. Eventually an entire body came from within the mirror. And Paul knew who it was. He was clad all in white.

"Damn mist, almost couldn't aim meself right" said the figure in white.

Pauls mouth was wide open.

"Close your mouth son. A fly might go in" The apparition spoke sarcastically.

John was wearing his trademark granny glasses, and had a full beard. Paul was seeing his best friend for the first time in almost thirty years. And without knowing it he was pointing at the beard.

"Cat got your tongue. What ya pointin' at?. Oh you're wondering about the beard".

Paul nodded his head up and down. His mouth was still open.

Paul sat down, cradled his head in his left hand, and asked "What are ya doing here?".

John was ready for that question.

"Well actually I'm not supposed to be here at all. I was goin' t' see Yoko, but the damn mist sent me here. After god knows how many years I was just about ready to forgive you for really pissing me off. All you had to do was to let Klein manage you. But you had to be pig headed, and make life difficult for the rest of us".

Paul, still in a state of shock, replied.

"You were the one who forced the issue. Plus you, George and Ringo took him to court. And Klein lost. So if Klein was so good how you had to sue him to get him out of your hair?".

"Good point. But I have another question for you. What in christs name happened to your face. It looks like a bag of soggy crisps".

Paul walked over the mirror which was no longer cloudy or misty and inspected his reflection. He found nothing wrong. But after looking at Johns face he understood the question.

"I'm 61 now. I've grown older. You look the same the day you died. For you time stopped. For me it hasn't". John let out an audible sigh. "In that case maybe you can answer a few questions for me. Whats Yoko up to, and how’s my boy ?".

Paul knew the answer to both questions, and he also knew John wasn't going to like them.

"I don't how to tell you but Yoko is re-doing the daft 'Art Exhibition' of hers. The one where people snip off parts of her clothes for world peace. I wouldn't call that art, and how it relates to world peace is beyond me. As for Sean, your little boy isn't. He's a grown man."

John leaned over, put his head in his hands and said "I check out, and the world goes on without me. What you just said sure isn't easy, but it must be true".

Just then Heather poked her head in the bedroom.

"Are talking to someone dear?. I thought I heard you talking".

Paul had to think fast.

"You probably heard me nattering away. I was rehearsing what I'm going to say at the meeting. But I won't be there if this damn tie doesn't cooperate."

Frustrated he turned to John and said quietly. "My wife probably thinks her husband is off his trolley. She was right in here and yet didn't see you or hear you. What's going on ?".

John moved from the edge of the bed to chair. "Its simple. She can't see me or hear me. Only you can".

The expression on Pauls face said 'lucky me' and John knew it.

"Don't look at me. I didn't make the rules. Hells teeth, This is my first time out of there if you don't count a little haunting I did just to say sane"

"Haunting. What kind of haunting did you do? Rattle some chains and stuff?" Paul asked.

"That’s just Hollywood crap. You have no idea how much bad press we ghosts have gotten thanks to Hollywood. Well anyway, after being a GIT for twenty years you're put on probation, and you're allowed visitation rights. But with so many people ahead of me it almost impossible to book some travel time. Haunting is just really being a pain the ass. This yank woman had this collection of teddy bears. All I did was I turn them all around to face the wall. I don't know how she knew it, but she knew it was me. She said 'Cut it out Lennon'. That woman reminded me of me Auntie Mimi. And she also made me the laughing stock of every ghost on probation. Now I can't go anywhere without somebody reminding of what happened."

Paul put his hand up and asked John to stop.

"I love to hear more of your extracurricular activities, but I have this really important meeting to get to. I'm finally going to back our song catalog back".

John held up a fist and said "Go get 'em son......did you say get it back ?".

"Ya, I had to sell it a few years back. But the bloke who owns the catalog needs some cash fast, so I'm going to try and bring it home where it belongs".

"Do you want me to go with you?. I could scare him and have this jerk fall to pieces". Paul thought about the offer, and how temping it was.

"No thanks, this guy wears a mask just to keep his nose on. Didn't you say you came to see Yoko ?".

"Ya I did. If I don't drop in today I'll really be in trouble. This little side trip will be hard enough to explain. Lets get back -pardon the pun-to the E point".

What’s that ?" asked a puzzled Paul.

"Where I came in. If ghosts on probation don't visit properly we can't visit for another one hundred years".

Paul walked towards the mirror then pointed towards it.

"That’s where you made your grand entrance. Why did you call it the E point?".

"Its my entry-exit point. I'm kinda lucky mine is a mirror. Buddy Holly got a toilet once, and boy was he unpopular for a while".

Paul wrinkled his nose. "I suppose so".

The mirror got all misty again, and John started through.

"Get that catalog back or I'll tell you when you'll be joining me". At the end of the sentence John was gone, and Pauls tie was still crooked. When Paul came back later that day he was the new owner of the Beatle catalog.