The Ghosts of Miller's Crossing

by David Clark

  Edward slammed his fist on the table, causing coffee to spill from both cups. “Father, you said something got away from you. What did?”

  “You have to understand. We were running out of options.”

  “Tell me. Tell me the truth.”

  “Your father and I discussed it over and over and we agreed.” The expression and body language of the old priest became defeated by a great weight he had carried for decades. Edward felt his temper growing inside and opened his mouth to unleash on his friend.

  Before Edward could utter a sound, Father Murray confessed. “We… or I, tried to use a dark prayer to battle the demons.” He looked straight at Edward and tried to explain. “It was something we discussed over and over. Things were out of control, and people were getting hurt. We thought if we could gain control of it, we could send them back to where they belong. I even consulted a fellow priest on the matter. We both agreed under the circumstances. I made a mistake. I used one I didn’t fully understand. The same one Sarah read tonight. A portal opened outside, letting in several creatures. We had it controlled. Your father tried to force one back through the portal, but a creature emerged. The creature you have encountered several times. It took control and turned everything against us.”

  Edward’s temper had control of his senses. His mind stopped hearing the words coming out of Father Murray’s mouth after he admitted to using a dark prayer to battle the demons. He leapt to the next logical conclusion. A conclusion that had shattered his confidence in the man sitting before him and brought the tragedy from so many years ago back front and center. He stood up and walked away from the table, Father Murray still pleading at table the behind him.

  In a moment of anger and clarity, Edward turned and walked back to the table. Father Murray was still talking, but Edward did not hear him. Instead he slammed both the cross and book on the table in front of the old priest. He jumped in shock. “Father, your actions killed my parents. You destroyed my life in so many ways… and you hid the truth from me. You created this problem. YOU released these monsters. This is your problem. I came here with my family for a fresh start, not to continue a tragedy. I will protect my family, but as for this great responsibility you speak of. It is yours to deal with.”

  “But Edward…” pleaded Father Murray.

  “There is no ‘but’ anything. I am done. You created this. You have done fine without me for so long. Now take those things and get out of my home.”

  Edward walked over and opened the backdoor. “You will be leaving now, and will not return.”

  Father Murray reluctantly stood up and paused for a second, searching for the words to say, but nothing came to him. He walked to the door and left.

  Neither man said a word to each other as Edward closed the door. Edward took a seat back at the table and had a few more sips of his coffee. His mind and heart bled at the realization of what really happened to his parents. There was no robbery or aggressor. It was a careless mistake by someone his father trusted, the cruelest crime of all.

  32

  Edward did not sleep much the rest of the night. There were no disturbances or interruptions. At least not outside of his own mind. The scene of his parents in the kitchen played over and over in his head, much like it did when he was younger. There was just one difference now. He had filled in the missing pieces. The more he saw, the more his anger developed toward Father Murray. He wondered who else was involved. Was the sheriff? Was his father aware of the danger? He responded to each question with the same answer. His focus was his family and kids and that was it. The others were all on their own.

  He turned over in the bed, trying to get comfortable and clear his mind. He needed to get some rest. Instead he spied the time on the alarm clock on the bedside table. One minute before his alarm was scheduled to go off, the cruelest trick of all.

  Edward forced his tired body and exhausted mind out of the bed and toward the shower. He was hoping the hot water would wake him up. It only took a few minutes for him to realize that hope was full of hot air. He dressed and finished getting ready before he started down the hallway to make sure his children were up and getting ready for school. There was a brief consideration of letting Sarah stay home from school, but he heard her up and heading into the bathroom to get ready.

  Jacob met his father downstairs sitting at the table, already showered and dressed for school. This looked like it would be one of the easy mornings, and Edward was thankful for that. “What’ll you have for breakfast, champ?” he asked his son.

  “Cereal.”

  With a choice of four varieties in the pantry, Edward gave his son a look that asked for clarification. Jacob’s reply was also non-verbal, as he pointed in the air, directing his father’s hand until it hovered in front of the right box. Edward pulled down the box of sugar covered morsels and poured Jacob a bowl and then covered it with milk.

  Edward leaned back against the countertop while he downed a cup of coffee. He wanted to get two in him before he went to work. Sarah emerged through the door and walked over and gave her father a hug. She whispered “Sorry” in his ear and then fixed herself a cup of coffee. He wanted to let some of his anger loose on her and tell her “sorry” didn’t come close to even covering it, but he stopped. She did not understand what she was doing or even how bad things were. Edward wanted to keep it that way and protect his family.

  He started on his second cup and wondered if there would be any reaction at work today to what happened last night. He remembered how surprised he was at how fast things got around after the first time. It was almost a guarantee people would know. The last drop of his second cup hit his lips and he checked the time on his watch. They should have left five minutes ago, but he was too tired to panic. He said, “Let’s go. We’re late.” Neither kid resisted nor hesitated. They grabbed their things and headed straight for the door.

  Jacob hopped out of the car at his school and shut the door. Edward pulled off and headed toward the high school. His drive was mostly on auto pilot. He sat there looking straight forward. Sarah was too. She broke the silence. “Charlotte texted me earlier. She is all stitched up and feeling much better, but won’t be back to school for a few days.”

  “That is understandable. How is her mom doing?”

  Sarah said nothing. Instead she looked down at her phone and typed feverishly. About a minute later there was a ding. “Her mom is doing fine. Father Murray is with them now.”

  Edward wanted to say, “Tell them not to trust that old goat. He is more dangerous than helpful,” but he held it to himself. Instead he said, “Ok, good.”

  Sarah said nothing and appeared to be waiting for her Father to start a lecture about what happened last night, but he didn’t. He left the tension sitting there above them both and pulled into the parking lot at the school. He parked and turned off the car. She sat there, still waiting for the lecture of a lifetime. Edward opened his door, exited, closed the door, and walked into the school, leaving his daughter sitting there bewildered.

  Edward felt the looks and glares of others as he walked down the hallway. This was like the first time, but also different. The level of disappointment hanging in the air was heavier this time. He half wanted to respond, but also half didn’t care what anyone else thought. Luckily for everyone, the second half won.

  He walked into his classroom, which was half full of his students. It was quieter than normal. No pre-start of class chatting going on. Each student was sitting at their desk, staring at him.

  These kids are too young to understand, thought Edward. Instead of saying anything, he returned the same cold welcome back to them and unpacked his bag to prepare for the day.

  Each class took a few minutes to warm up, but eventually the discussion on the lessons picked up to close to the normal level. This was all Edward could ask for. He didn’t know what people thought of him or his actions, and he didn’t want it to affect his effectiveness as a teacher. The discussion also helped him stay awake through the
first few classes.

  After the end of his fourth class, he packed up a few things and prepared to pull out his lunch. He did not feel he would be welcomed in the teacher’s lounge today. A voice from the door called him. “Mr. Meyer.” He turned, expecting to see a student with a question, but saw a young man in a deputy uniform standing in his doorway with his hat in his hands. Tillingsly introduced him once, but Edward was currently drawing a blank trying to remember his name. He thinks it is Mike, but he is not sure of his last name.

  “Mike?”

  “No. Marcus, Marcus Thompson,” the deputy said.

  “Oh, that’s right. We met at the Kirklands’ farm last week. I am so sorry.”

  “Yes sir, we did. It is ok. We only met once. Do you have a moment?” he asked.

  Edward motioned for him to come in. “The sheriff asked me to check in on you and make sure you are all right.”

  “I am just fine, Deputy Thompson. How is the sheriff? He is the one I am worried about.”

  “Well, he is not doing too well. The doctors said he had a pretty serious heart attack. He will be out for a few weeks.”

  Edward’s remorse hit him tenfold. As much as he tried to convince himself he was not totally responsible for what happened, it didn’t work. “Next time you see him, tell him I am sorry. Will you do that for me?” Edward asked. He wanted to go see him, but felt now was the wrong time.

  “He said you would say that, and asked me to tell you not to worry about it. None of this was your fault. He also gave me a list of things to tell you. If you know the sheriff, you know he may be out of service for a while, but he will still run the department from the hospital bed. There was this one time he stepped in a hole out possum hunting with old man Rickers out on route 142. He snapped his ankle in two, but that didn’t stop him, oh no…” The deputy looked at Edward and cut his story off. Either the mood in the room or the look on Edward’s face told him this was the wrong time for a story. “Anyways, the sheriff asked me to tell you to not be too hard on Father Murray. You three need each other. He also said to tell you that I am at your disposal while he is out.”

  It seemed the deputy was correct. Sheriff Tillingsly was still trying to control and manage things right from the hospital bed, and had named someone to be his eyes and ears. That made Edward wonder something, so he asked, “Deputy Thompson, do you know what that last bit means?”

  The deputy looked around and fidgeted. “Yes, sir.”

  “Are you sure?” Edward asked while walking toward the deputy. “You are ready to go to war with the supernatural. To fight against an evil as old as the world itself. One we cannot physically fight against, but can only use mystical blessed relics and words. Are you really ready for that?”

  “I am ready to do what you need me to do.”

  Edward was less than convinced by the deputy’s tone, so he asked, “Have you seen a spirit before?”

  “Not up close, but a few out in a field or across the road,” he said.

  “Have you heard the sound they make when you fight them?”

  He did not respond. Edward pressed again, “Have you felt their cold touch as they reach in and squeeze your heart? Or how about when they enter your mind and play with your thoughts?”

  The visibly shaken deputy swallowed deep and answered, “Mr. Meyer, I am here to do whatever you and Father Murray need me to do.”

  The deputy’s reaction confirmed Edward’s assumption. He was not ready for this. “Let’s be honest, Marcus. You aren’t. None of us are. We can say we are ready for this, but we aren’t. I know the sheriff trusts you, or he wouldn’t have sent you here to see me. If I need anything, I will call you. You are the sheriff now.”

  “No sir, he is the Sheriff. Only an election can change that. I am just standing in for now.”

  “My mistake. I thank you for stopping by. Please give the sheriff my best.”

  “I will, and you take care. Call me if you need anything.” The deputy donned his hat on his way out of the door.

  Edward had no intention of taking him up on his offer. Deputy Thompson had no clue what they asked him to step into. It was bad enough with neither Father Murray nor himself knowing what they were doing. Taking him out with them would only put him in danger.

  No matter. Edward was out of all this anyways. His children were his only focus. A glance at the clock changed that focus for just a second. He was starved, and only had a few minutes before students would file in for his next class.

  33

  Edward settled in at his dining table turned desk. Exhausted but determined to grade at least two classes’ worth of essays, he pulled the stack from his bag and started to read. The quiet calm of the house wasn’t helping his fight against exhaustion. Thinking some background music might do the trick, he reached for his phone to start up the music app. The phone vibrated and danced across the table before he could grab it. The display listed the familiar number of Father Murray.

  He checked the clock on his phone; it was just after eleven at night. This was not a social call, not at this hour. Not that he would have answered a social call from that man at the moment. He must need help. Out of both fear and anger, he used his thumb and swiped left to reject the call.

  The display changed to his screen saver and Edward unlocked the phone and opened his music app. He selected his favorite 80’s playlist and dove back into the essays. Thirty seconds into the first song a ding interrupted the music. Edward had no intention of stopping to listen to the message. At least not yet. The music started again, and Edward found where he left off in the essay.

  Two essays in and the music stopped, again alerting Edward to a new text message. At this hour it could be only one person. His hand reached for the phone in reaction to the tone, but he stopped it halfway. There was a small voice in his head telling him to read the text. At this moment the hurt and anger yelled that voice down.

  He graded another five essays before the phone rang again. Edward threw his hands up and let out a frustrated sigh. He gave up and stacked the papers back in his desk, declined the call, and headed upstairs to bed.

  The next day Edward encountered the same looks and avoidance as he walked into school, but he didn’t care. There was a slight feeling of being an outcast, but his subconscious combated every look or glare with the thought, you don’t understand anything. His students were still standoffish, but not as much as yesterday. They engaged during classwork-related discussions. There were no such casual talks or students coming in early or after class to say “hi”.

  At lunch he ventured into the lounge to get a drink from the vending machine. As he walked through the door, conversations stopped, and everyone looked at him. Their eyes watched him as he crossed the room toward the machine. As he turned his back to them to make his choice, he felt their gaze burning a hole through him. He wanted to turn around and yell something like, “go ahead and hate me, not like I care.” But he didn’t care enough to cause a career limiting scene. This was where he worked. He needed to work past this.

  He made the perp walk back across the lounge and out the door. Mark got up and followed him out. Edward heard footsteps following him, but did not stop. He continued to his classroom.

  “Edward,“ Mark called when he walked through the door of his classroom.

  “Hi, Mark. Aren’t you worried what the others will think if they saw you talking to me?”

  “Not really. See, they elected me to talk to you,” Mark responded with a wry smile.

  Edward was not in the mood to take the humorous bait. “That so?”

  “Yea, it is. Most of us know about what happened. We don’t know all the details, just pieces of what is going around. What happened in that field that night would have shaken anyone up. To be honest, I don’t know how you do it. I still get scared when I see them. It must be something in your DNA. You have to know what happened to Lewis is not your fault, and none of this is your daughter’s fault either. She didn’t know. Neither did Charlotte. Hell
, that creature has been running around for years.”

  Edward sat there at his desk, listening to his friend’s impassioned plea.

  Mark changed his approach.

  “What I am trying to say is, you can’t give up. We, everyone, need you and what your family does. Times have been rough here for a long time. Many of our old friends left because of it. I can’t blame them. I thought about it myself a few times. We need you. Don’t lose confidence.”

  Mark stopped and looked at his friend for a reply. Edward sat in silence for several moments, calculating his response. His mind stewed on how out of touch everyone was. He was not sure how much to say, but the built-up frustration got the better of his judgement and he unloaded. “Confidence? Is that what you guys think this is about? I lost confidence?”

  “Well maybe not confidence. What happened would have shaken anyone.”

  “Stop right there.” He stood up and walked to the end of his desk and leaned against it. “That is not it. There is so much more to it. Did you know the great Father Murray is only guessing at what to do? There is no science to this stuff.”

  Mark looked at Edward with a confused look.

  “Oh yea. You didn’t know THAT, did you? The magic book is just a bunch of prayers with no explanation of when or how to use them. You have to,” Edward made air quotes, “‘feel your way through things.’ You can just as easily make a mistake than make the right choice. Oh, and these mistakes can kill. I should know. Father Murray made a mistake years ago that killed my parents. You didn’t know THAT either, did you?”

  A look of unspeakable shock crossed Mark’s face. Edward had just exposed one of Mark’s heroes as a fraud.

  “His guesswork, his mistake, killed my parents. He wasn’t even man enough to own up to it. He only admitted it after I asked. That… that thing roaming around out there… that thing he released, told me. I will protect my family, but I am not doing it anymore Mark. I am not going out there with him and making another mistake that will cost someone else their life. Nope. That will not happen.”