by Terri Reid
His voice is excited and panicked. “We shouldn’t go in there,” he said, the fear evident. “We need to go back.”
“What do you do?” Ian said.
“The other guys, the other guys are laughing at me,” Rick said, shaking his head. “They start to climb the fence. But…” He pauses and then sighs, dropping his hand and relaxing. “Alden just told them he saw something in the trees and he’s not going in. So, we’re leaving. We’re taking the long way.”
“Did Alden see what you saw?” Ian asked, and Mary sent a questioning look at Bradley.
Bradley’s quick shake of his head came at the same time Rick responded. “No, he didn’t see anything,” he said with gratitude in his voice. “He was just watching out for me.”
Chapter Thirty-three
Ian had slowly guided Rick through his high school years, into college and boot camp, and now they were finally at the place in his memory where he thought the problem had started.
“Tell me what you see,” Ian said.
“Desert and mountains,” Rick said. “I see our FOB and the guys in my squadron.”
“What’s happening down there?” Ian asked.
“It’s getting dark. It’s my turn for sentry duty at the front gate,” Rick said. “Me and Williams have duty together.”
“Can you go down a little closer?” Ian asked. “Do you feel safe?”
Rick nodded. “Yeah, I can get closer,” he replied. “We’re walking to the guard hut.”
“Is it a far walk?” Ian asked.
Rick nodded. “Yeah, about two city blocks,” he said. “We’re walking down a narrow lane. There’s tall, chain-link fencing with barbed wire on top of it on either side of us. On the outside of the fencing is razor wire, so no one can get to the fence.”
“Is it dark?” Ian asked.
“Yeah, the sun is setting,” Rick replied. “There are tall, sentry lights, like street lights, every 100 yards. But the light only shines for about 30 yards in all directions, so you walk from light into dark and then back into light.”
“Are you safe?” Ian asked.
Rick nodded again. “Yeah, we’re safe,” he said. “Williams is a good guy. I like having guard duty with him. We’re doing the twelve to twelve overnight shift.”
“Okay, so what’s happening now?” Ian asked.
“It’s later,” Rick said. He paused, and Mary watched him sit up on the couch, his eyes still closed. “Something’s out there.”
He looked over his shoulder. “Hey, Williams, someone is out there,” he said. “I’m going out.”
Standing, Rick walked across the room, his eyes still closed, and watched something unseen for a few moments. “It’s just a villager,” he called over his shoulder. “He must have been working late at the FOB. Some really old guy.”
Walking back to the couch, Rick sat down, but still watched. “He’s going dark,” he said. “He’ll be in light in a few moments.”
He continued to watch and wait.
“He’s not coming out,” he called. “What the hell? He’s not coming out. Williams did you see him?”
Agitated, Rick scans the room. “There’s no place he could have gone,” he said, his voice frantic. “Where the hell is he?”
“Rick, are you still safe?” Ian asked, interrupting him.
Shaking his head, Rick continues to scan the area. “No, I’m not safe,” he said. “The old guy, he’s gone.”
“Okay, go back up to the sky, Rick,” Ian commands him. “Go up right now and look down.”
Laying back down on the couch, Rick’s breathing calms, but he’s still looking around. “I see myself,” he said. “I see myself with Williams. Dammit!”
“What?” Ian asked, his voice still soft, but Mary could hear the tension in it. “What do you see?”
“The old guy,” Rick said, his voice confused. “The old guy is next to me, but I don’t see him. He’s right there, next to me, and he’s smiling.”
He shivered, and Mary felt a chill run down her spine.
“He’s next to me,” Rick said. “And now…” He paused and shook his head. His breathing became shallow, and his voice was a frightened whisper. “The old guy,” he said, his voice shaking, “I think he’s inside of me.”
Chapter Thirty-four
Rick sat on the couch, his elbows on his knees and his head cradled in his hands. “I can remember it,” he said slowly. He looked up at Ian. “Am I supposed to remember it?”
Ian shrugged. “Well, it really wasn’t too far down in your subconscious,” he said. “So, since we just kind of shined a psychological light on those memories, there’s no reason you shouldn’t remember it.”
“Well, okay, so now what do I do with it?” he asked. “I feel like I’m part of a science fiction movie and something is going to come exploding out of my body any moment.”
“I totally understand that feeling,” Mary said with a smile, looking down at her belly.
Rick was taken aback for a moment and then chuckled. “Okay, I guess you do,” he said. “But, I’ve got to admit, I’m more than a little freaked out.”
“I can imagine,” Ian said. “So, the first thing I need to ask you is, do you want this old guy unattached from you?”
Rick looked confused. “Of course I do,” he said. “Why would you even ask that question?”
“Because he’s been with you for over a decade,” Ian said. “And if you don’t really want him to go, I don’t want to even try.”
“No, I want him to go,” Rick said emphatically. “I want my life back. I really want to be happy.”
“Okay,” Ian said. “Do you remember any Farsi?”
Rick nodded. “Yeah, I still remember a little.”
“Okay,” Ian said. “You need to concentrate on a mental image of the old man and ask him to come out of you, so you can meet him.”
“Wait. What?” Rick said. “You want me to meet some demon thing that’s been taking over my body? What if he’s dangerous?”
“Most of the time, when you have spirit attachments like this,” Ian said, “it’s not a possession. Generally, you have spirits who are lost and confused. Because you are open and sensitive, because you could see him, he gravitated to you. But, he brought with him the sadness and confusion of his death. We just need to help him go on his way.”
“Really?” Rick asked, releasing a sigh of relief. “That’s it?”
Ian nodded. “Generally, yes, that’s it,” he said. “So, let’s see if we can talk to him and help him.”
Rick made the request in Farsi for the old man to come out and meet them. They waited for a few moments, but nothing happened. Rick repeated the request, and Mary thought she saw a shadow form around Rick. But it slipped back in again.
“I thought I saw something,” Mary said.
“He’s been with you a long time,” Ian said. “It might be hard for him to make the separation.”
“Can I try?” Mary asked.
“That might be a good idea,” Ian said. “Mary’s the least intimidating of all of us in the room.”
Rick nodded. “Give it a shot.”
She repeated the words Rick had said, slowly and gently. Then, in English she added, “Please don’t be afraid. We just want to help you go home.”
The outline of a shadow appeared next to Rick, wavering and undulating, like a heat wave. It got more pronounced, and finally, a diminutive, dark-skinned man appeared next to Rick on the couch. He cowered into the cushions as he gazed around the room.
“We’re here to help you,” Mary said. “Can you understand me?”
The elderly man appeared confused. Rick turned and spoke to the man in Farsi, his voice gentle and kind. The man smiled and nodded at Rick.
“He needs to remember what happened before he died,” Ian said. “He needs to understand that he is no longer alive.”
Rick turned back to him and spoke. The old man’s eyes widened, and then his gaze became thoughtful. Finally, he spok
e quickly, his hands gesturing wildly.
“He worked in the FOB for us, the American soldiers,” Rick said. “As did many in his village. They liked the Americans. They wanted peace. But the Taliban found out they were working for us and decided to punish the village.”
Rick looked up and nodded. “I remember that happening,” he said. “It was just before we got there. The Taliban killed about 100 villagers in the next village over.”
He turned back to the man and spoke to him. The old man sat quietly, listening, taking Rick’s words in, and then he looked up, tears in his eyes and looked at Mary. “I am dead?” he asked in broken English.
Mary nodded, tears filling her eyes. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry. But, yes, you are dead.”
He put his hands out in front of his face and shook his head. “I did not know these things.”
“What is your name?” Mary asked.
“Hadi,” the man replied.
“Hadi,” Mary repeated. “It is time for you to move on. Are you ready?”
He nodded slowly. “Yes,” he said. “Yes. I do.”
She wiped a stray tear from her cheek and nodded. “Good. Now you must look around you,” she said. “And look for a bright light.”
Hadi slowly searched the room, then stopped, his eyes widening once again. He whispered something in Farsi.
“He said it is beautiful,” Rick translated.
Mary nodded. “It is beautiful,” she said. “And now, Hadi, you need to walk towards it. Your friends and family are waiting for you there. They’ve waited a long time.”
He stood and took three steps and then faded out of sight.
Rick glanced quickly around the room. “He’s gone?” he asked incredulously.
Ian nodded. “Yes, he’s gone,” he said. “How do you feel?”
Rick paused and thought about it for a moment. A wide smile appeared on his face. “I feel great,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “I feel… I can’t even describe it. I feel new.”
Bradley walked over and gave his friend a hug. “Nice to have you back,” he said.
“Amazing to be back,” Rick replied. Then he turned to Ian and gave him a hug. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome,” Ian said. “And, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d love to stay in touch with you and make sure there are no residual effects.”
“No, I don’t mind at all,” he said. “That would be great.”
Rick walked across the room to Mary. “Thank you,” he said, emotion choking his voice. “Thank you for helping me become happy again.”
She hugged him. “You are so welcome,” she replied. “I am so happy for you.”
He took a deep, unsteady breath and let it out slowly. “Okay, so what’s next?” he asked with a grin.
“Ian’s never tried a Chicago-style hot dog,” Mary said.
Rick turned to Ian, a look of amused shock on his face. “What?” he asked. “Well, we have to fix that immediately.” He grabbed his jacket from the coat rack and walked to the door. “Come on, everyone, lunch is on me.”
Chapter Thirty-five
Mary sighed happily as Bradley drove through Freeport, back towards their house. “This was a great day,” she said.
Bradley nodded as he maneuvered down the side streets. “I agree,” he said. “I can’t remember when I’ve seen Rick happier. It was like the final scene of A Christmas Carol when Scrooge is giddy with happiness. I always thought that scene was kind of weird, but now I understand it.”
Mary nodded thoughtfully. “I can’t imagine being caught under a blanket of that much unhappiness,” she said. “And I know that there are people suffering through depression who see the world that way every day.”
“Yeah, but how tough would it be suffering through someone else’s depression?” Bradley asked, glancing over at her. He turned the car down their street and shook his head. “No rest for the wicked.”
Mary looked ahead. “What?” she asked.
“Rosie and Stanley’s car is parked in front,” he said. “I’m sure they’re waiting for us.”
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot,” she said. “Pizza at our house tonight.”
Bradley looked over at her. “Chicago hot dogs and fries for lunch and pizza for dinner?” he asked. “Are you sure?”
She grinned at him. “I’ll make mine thin crust with spinach and artichokes,” she replied. “With a salad.” She paused for a moment. “But only if you get the same.”
Chuckling, he reached over and kissed her. “I will be happy to get the same,” he said.
Bradley came around and helped Mary out of the car, and before they were across the driveway, Stanley, Rosie and Margo were at their side.
“I’m so glad you finally got home,” Rosie said. “We have some very interesting information.”
“I think they’re wrong, iffen you want to know the truth,” Stanley grumbled.
“I’m not wrong,” Margo replied. “And you weren’t there. It was frightening.”
“Why don’t we all just go inside and talk about it?” Bradley suggested. “And then we can order the pizza.”
They hurried inside, and while Bradley went into the kitchen to order, Margo and Rosie surrounded Mary on the couch.
“Melvin did it,” Margo said. “I know he did.”
“And when she told me what he said, I agree with her,” Rosie added.
Stanley sat across from them in the chair, his hands folded over his chest. “And I’m saying you got no proof other than he was jealous of Frasier,” he said. “Lots of people are jealous, and they don’t go killing folks.”
Margo looked over at Stanley and shook her head. “But not lots of people have that same expression on their face,” she said. “And the same tone to their voice. It was as if the person I was having lunch with changed. I tell you it gave me goosebumps.”
“Why was he jealous?” Mary asked.
“He said that Frasier showed him up in every aspect of his life,” Margo said. Then. Then she paused. “Well, he didn’t put it in those words. I did. But basically since they were boys, Frasier was the one who came out on top.”
“But that happens to lots of folks,” Stanley said. “Especially in small towns. You get the leaders and you get the…”
He stopped himself before he said the final word.
“Losers?” Rosie asked.
“Well, I didn’t want to say that,” Stanley said.
“But that’s what you thought, wasn’t it?” Margo asked. “And how would you feel if all of your life you were known as the loser?”
Stanley grumbled for a moment and shook his head. “Well, I wouldn’t like it,” he said. “But I wouldn’t go out and kill people. I’d work hard to make myself better.”
Rosie leaned forward and placed her hand on Stanley’s knee. “That’s because you’re a leader, dear,” she said. “And you don’t let anything get in your way. Not everyone is like that.”
“I still don’t think he’d do it,” Stanley murmured.
“Well, how about Melvin?” Rosie asked. “He could have done it, too.”
Mary shook her head. “Melvin? Who’s Melvin?”
“He’s the man who took over for Frasier at the VFW,” Stanley said.
“He told me that anyone could commit murder,” Margo said. “Especially if they felt threatened.”
“And did he feel threatened?” Mary asked.
Margo nodded. “He said something about people doing a background check on him and not minding their own business.”
Mary sighed. “Well, then we have three good suspects,” she said.
“Three?” Stanley asked. “Who’s the third?”
“It looks like Eddie is still in the running,” Mary replied.
“Well, we need to start eliminating the possibilities,” Margo said.
Stanley looked shocked. “We ain’t eliminating no one,” he said. “I don’t go for murdering folks.”
Margo r
olled her eyes. “No, not that,” she replied. “But we need to see if there is anything that would link them to the murder.”
Mary glanced over to the kitchen where Bradley was still on hold with the pizza parlor, and then she turned back to Margo, Rosie and Stanley. “Well, there’s one way we could be sure,” she said, lowering her voice.
“How?” Margo asked.
“We could look for evidence in their homes,” Mary replied.
“Shouldn’t you be getting a warrant to do that?” Stanley asked.
Mary shrugged. “No one thinks a crime’s been committed,” she replied. “The authorities think it was bad driving. And the case has been closed for months. There’s no way we could get a judge to issue us a warrant.”
Stanley thought about it for a moment and then sighed. “Okay, Shirley and Frasier were friends of mine,” he said. “What do you want to do?”?”
“Well, do you think we could try and get to all of them tomorrow? Mary asked.
Stanley nodded. “Melvin spends his Thursday mornings at the Senior Center, so his place will be empty all morning.”
“Excellent,” Mary said. “We can go there first. Stanley, I want you to be the lookout.”
He nodded. “Okay, and after Melvin’s?” he asked.
Mary looked over her shoulder once again. “I need you to take Butch to lunch tomorrow,” she said to Stanley, “while the rest of us look for evidence.”
“You’re going to—” Stanley shouted until Rosie slapped his leg. He looked around, abashed and lowered his voice. “You’re going to break into his house?”
“No one locks their doors around here,” Mary said. “We’re just going to walk in, not break in.”
Stanley leaned forward. “What if he locks his doors?” he asked softly.
Mary met his eyes. “Plausible deniability, Stanley,” she said. “You don’t want to know.”
She paused and looked up over their heads at Bradley, who was speaking on the phone. “But if you want to stop by his house this evening for a moment,” Mary whispered, “and, “and if Rosie wants to accidentally forget her gloves, that wouldn’t be a bad idea.”