by S H Marpel
Sal looked across at Jude, who was walking on the other side of me, both were smiling. “Well, if you stop here we’ll give you the explanation you deserve.”
We stopped. The two girls moved to my front, facing me at a conversational distance. The sun to their backs gave more highlights to their hair. My ball cap visor kept the sun out of my eyes so I didn’t have to squint.
“Hugh, we are not normal humans, in fact, we work for Death.”
IV
OK, THAT’S A BIT WEIRD. Working for Death. I had no reaction to this as I knew more was coming. No, they weren’t “regular humans.” Appearing out of nothing, and changing clothing wholesale, already got me over any idea of that.
Sal interrupted my thoughts. “Jude and I work together, as we have since Time was young. We help people move on after they die. And recently, we’ve been told that our methods haven’t been efficient enough.”
“You mean, there’s management running your operation?”
“In so many words, yes. There are laws and rules, ‘company policies’ within that metaphor, and we have to stick within those guidelines. Our ‘job description’ is helping our clients to stay within those guidelines. This is where you come in.”
“You’re going to either say I’m about to die, or become one of you?”
Jude smiled and cocked her head. “Not that we wouldn’t mind having a hunk like you around, but no. Neither of those options are on the table. Only regular humans can solve our ‘client’s’ problems.”
Sal continued. “The problem we are having is with our clients. Too many of them aren’t able to stick to the guidelines, and so don’t transition.”
I was catching on. “So you mean there’s a certain percentage of acceptable ‘ghosts’ and ‘specters’ and you’re ‘over quota’?”
“Exactly.” Sal and Jude looked at each other, relieved.
Jude said to Sal with a quiet voice, “I knew we picked out a good one this time.”
Sal just smiled more and turned my way. “So what questions do you have?”
I had dozens. “The first point is why should I accept this job? I already have two - writing and managing this place.”
“Because the way we operate, you won’t miss any time from either of them. We bring you back within minutes of leaving. Here, let’s show you how that works.”
Sal and Jude took each other’s hands, and each took one of mine. The scenery shimmered and became the inside of the tiny cabin. We were just inside the door where there was enough space for all of us to fit.
Sal spoke first. “We don’t have to hold hands every time, but this cabin is so small, it helps us fit better when we arrive.” They then let go of my hands.
“Now, fill up your coffee mug.”
I’d brewed my coffee this morning and had emptied my first mug-ful with breakfast. The coffee maker was in reach of my desk, the mug nearby. So I turned around, picked up the mug, and filled it up again. Then turned back to face them. The warm coffee inside the mug steamed with its thick aroma.
“OK, now put it down on your desk. You see the steam rising off of it?”
I nodded.
The women took my hands again. The cabin shimmered.
V
WHEN THE SHIMMERING cleared, we were in Griffith Park, Los Angeles. Its Observatory parking lot. All was almost pitched black outside the street lights and architectural lighting for the buildings. The moon was high in the sky, and the L. A. streets twinkled through their own lights as they stretched off toward the ocean. Behind us, the mountains were dark and nearly invisible in their gloom.
While we could hear the sirens and street traffic, there was none around us, and the parking lot was bare of cars.
“This isn’t just early morning, is it?” I asked.
“No,” Sal said. “This is two weeks before we were in your cabin. That moon was a sliver on the horizon when we left your place and now it’s nearly full, high in the sky.”
Jude added, “Different place, a different time. Now, watch.”
An apparition shifted from a fog-like mist on the west side of the parking lot to take a near-solid form. It looked solid, real. Except there was something unreal about it. Maybe it was the staring eyes and the fact that its feet walked through the parking curbs instead of stepping over them.
The straight line it was walking didn’t deviate. And it was coming straight toward us.
“So this is one of your ghosts you need to deal with?” I asked,
“One of them. Not our worst.” Sal replied.
“Worst is what? This one is darned spooky. It would keep most people wondering for months of nightmares,"
“True enough. But there are ghosts who are far spookier, and more dangerous.”
The specter was a slight young girl, dressed in something out of the 50’s, it looked like. Sweater over a simple blouse. Full skirt below the knees, bobby-socks, and saddle-back black-and-white shoes. Her face was blank, her eyes focused on something beyond us.
She got closer and never saw us or slowed down. She kept going, walking right on through us. I flinched, but the girls didn’t.
I turned around to see her dissolve right through the front wall of the Observatory tourist shop without slowing her pace.
Just then, Sal shouted, “Look out!”
I turned to look and there was some cosmic pinwheel-shaped rift in the sky. A few feet off the ground. Just where we had seen the girl appear. A red-orange fireball pushed out of it and shot right toward us.
Sal grabbed one of my hands at the same time Jude grabbed the other.
The view shimmered, just as the fireball was nearly on us...
VI
WE WERE BACK IN MY cabin again. It was daylight.
No fireball. No Griffith Park.
My mug of coffee still steamed on my desk. The spring air was still wafting through my screen door and windows. A mockingbird was singing in a tree outside. While a momma cow lowed for her babe in a distant pasture.
I picked up the mug and sipped it. Still hot and sweet, with a dark mix of chicory and Brazilian beans.
“Ok, you proved your point. Time and space aren’t limits to you two.”
I rolled out my desk chair. “I need a seat. There’s a folding chair behind the door, or you can both use the couch.”
I sat. Sal pulled out the folding chair, another solid wood arrangement. She set it up and sat down on it, crossing her jean-covered legs in one smooth motion. Jude flounced onto the couch and felt the quilted comforter with her hand. Then reclined as her hand slid across, down to her elbow, and then back up to prop her head. And smiled again.
She presented a far more feminine a view than I needed.
Sal frowned at her, and Jude sat back up. “I couldn’t help it, sis. This is just a great comforter. We should get one.”
“So you can just get a certain someone under it?”
“Well, the thought had crossed my mind...”
I sipped my coffee in silence, smiling at these two. If we went into business, it would be a very interesting time, for sure. Their banter was amusing. I hadn’t talked this much in months, let alone with a matched pair of good-looking gals.
Sal looked at me. “So, what do you think?”
“Well, the transportation is fine. But you said there might be dangers. I take that fireball would have been the end of us?”
Jude said, “You, certainly. Us, not so much. But uncomfortable, for sure.”
Sal added. “Of course, there’s training you’ll need to do as part of it. Just to keep you safe.”
I nodded. “Safe is a good thing. But why do you want me and why me in particular?”
Sal answered, “It’s your unique skill set. You’re not just a writer, and not just a farmer. We’ve been reading your books and see there’s something else you have. You may not even know it.”
Jude added, “On top of your rugged good looks, you write detective stories. And this will give you a lot more stories. Bec
ause the reason each of these ghosts are still around is a mystery. To both them and everyone else...”
Sal jumped in. “Well, mostly everyone else. That fireball was a discouragement.”
“Like someone knew we were coming?” I asked.
“Exactly.” Sal replied. “That particular ghost is probably easy to solve, and so we visit her with potential hires. That was a booby-trap set to take us unaware. But since we’ve sprung that before, it wasn’t a real surprise.”
“Well, good you weren’t surprised. But I got quite a start out of it. Not like a day of writing.”
Jude said, “Just a start? Well, OK, what does it take to get you good and scared? Or even terrified?”
I took another sip of coffee and let that sink in. “Well, that’s not done with any ease these days. I’ve already lived a lot and recovered after many freak-outs. And dying itself isn’t even all that interesting a threat. Been there, done that. But you know my history.”
Sal said, “Yes, we’ve read one of your papers on ‘Erasing the Fear Aspect.’ Fascinating approach. Surviving major surgery with an out-of-body experience was another. And together with your fiction led us to find you.”
Jude leaned forward, elbow on the top knee of her crossed legs. “That’s a rare talent. Combat vets don’t even overcome that. It’s what makes PTSD. Repressed fears and anxieties. That’s why we want you to consider our offer.”
I smiled. “Offer? To go and decipher the background of ghosts? And face fireballs of death? I think maybe my life is simpler here.”
Sal nodded. “Of course it is. But consider how bored you’re getting these days. Your stories have been taking a lot more action into them, but the hero is just taking it in stride. Your main character is more often than not just sitting bored like Sherlock waiting for a remarkable case to appear and meanwhile practicing his violin.”
I agreed. “Yes, you have me there. All authors write themselves into their stories. The main character most times.”
Jude said, “Besides that, you’ve already passed many of the tests.”
I was puzzled. “Tests?”
Jude continued, “Remember that dream you had last night? The one about the girl and the bridge and her diary?”
I put the mug down on the desk before I could drop it. “Wait, all these weird dreams about ghosts lately - that was you two?”
Jude nodded. Then sat back against the couch pillows and hooked her hands together behind her head. “Of course, if you like being bored and want to miss out on all these great stories, well...”
Again, this was a more feminine view than I needed. And both these girls knew this. Sal had a wry grin on her face, watching Jude using her charms to get what she wanted.
I swiveled to Sal to take parts of my mind off the display. “Is there something else I’m supposed to get besides just story inspiration? Beside getting to see you two now and then? I don’t need more distraction from my writing - that’s why I’m out here.”
Sal smiled again at this. “Just think of that inspiration. You get to be Watson and Holmes all in one. Solve the case and then write it up. Regular weekly installments, new cases. Some tougher than others, none commonplace.”
I picked up my mug to sip my coffee again. “You both know I don’t need inspiration, my imagination is far more active than either of you could keep up with. That’s why I took up writing. Just to have an outlet.”
“And is why you moved out here, so you could settle your thoughts.” Sal agreed. “And we also know you’re bored stiff and want a little break now and then.”
“OK, you got me there.” I replied. “How about a salary? Or other income?”
“Just look up your online account. Check your email, you’ll see you’re already rewarded for the few minutes we’ve taken.”
The smartphone in my pocket buzzed, announcing an email arriving. Shifting to pull it out of a back pocket, I fished it out with my non-coffee-mug hand and thumbed up the display. “Four figures for a few minutes work. Not bad.”
“And that’s yours to keep or donate or anything you want.” Jude was now reclined on the comforter again, watching her fingers trace idle patterns on its surface.
I paused to admire the view. Jude looked up at me with one eyebrow raised above twinkling eyes and a devilish grin.
I glanced back at Sal, who was also smiling. “So, life-threatening adventure and money. What else could a guy ask for?”
Jude opened her mouth, but Sal broke in, “There is still the training do. And you’ll have to satisfy us that you’re up for the job. You’ll get paid during the training...”
Jude interrupted. “Unless you die in the process...”
Sal frowned and continued, “But we won’t let that happen....”
Jude spoke again. “Not just because you’re so damned cute, but because we’ll be there to ensure we save that tight bum of yours before you get it into trouble.”
Sal’s cheeks reddened at that. “What Jude meant to say is that we take every precaution with our trainees. And we haven’t lost very many, but there are risks.”
I smiled at this. These two were making my life interesting, to be sure.
“OK, I’m in.”
The room shimmered. I had only enough time to put my coffee mug down before the desk disappeared...
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A Guide to the Ghost Hunters Series
THIS IS A WIDE AND continuing universe of books. They continue to come out and we collect them in anthologies.
Here are the first seven:
Ghost Hunters Anthology 01
Ghost Hunters
Why Vampires Suck At Haunting
When Fireballs Collide
Ghost Exterminators Inc.
Ghost Hunters Anthology 02
The Haunted Ghost
Faith
Harpy
The Ghost Who Loved
Ghost Hunters Anthology 03
Falling
Harpy's Desires
The 95% Solution
The Case of a Cruising Phantom
The Spirit Mountain Mystery
Ghost Hunters Anthology 04
The Harpy Saga: Sister Mine
Harpy Redux
The Case of the Sunken Spirit
A Case of Missing Wings
Gaia
Ghost Hunters Anthology 05
The Training: Tess
The Training: Sylvie
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The Training: Star
The Training: Mysti
Ghost Hunters Anthology 06
Clocktower Mystery
Ghost of the Machine
Finding Grace
The Mystery of Meri
Time Bent
Ghost Hunters Anthology 07
A World Gone Reverse
The Faith of Jude
A Very Thin Line
Dark Lazurai
Lilly Lee
Additional Collections by S. H. Marpel
TWO GHOST'S SALVATION, Book One
The Alepha Solution
Freed
Witch Coven Harvest
Harpy Saga Anthology
Time Bent Anthology
Tales of the Lazurai
And Stay Tuned for More...
THESE ANTHOLOGIES ARE generally compiled and issued every two months, depending on the author's output.
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