End of the Road (Ghost Stories Trilogy #1)

by E. J. Fechenda

“Yeah, let’s get the show on the road.” Frank Jr. slid the seat forward, threw his bag in the back and climbed in after it.

  He didn’t say anything during the short drive, just stared out the window. When we pulled onto the clearing next to I-17, Frank Jr. stirred from whatever thoughts had kept him preoccupied. “Is this the place?”

  “Yes, the medium and Gavin will be here soon.

  It wasn’t a surprise to find Frank, Lawrence, Georgia and Bob waiting for us when we got out of the car.

  “Your dad is here.”

  “What? Where?” he asked, turning around searching for him. I was hoping he’d be able to see his father.

  “He’s in front of us, with the others.”

  Frank bent over to pick up a stick so he could write in the sand, but I held my hand out. “Not now, let’s wait for the medium.” I could see Frank Jr. was getting freaked out and shutting down. Seeing the two Franks side by side took my breath away. Frank, forever twenty-eight, could pass as the son, not the father. I shook my head, remembering Eric and Frank Jr. couldn’t witness this.

  “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

  For people driving by there wasn’t much to look at, but for Frank Jr., this was where his father died.

  We waited for a break in the traffic and jogged across the lanes to the other side. I stepped over the guard rail with Eric and Frank Jr. right behind. Frank Jr. was wheezing slightly from the jog so we stopped. Frank materialized next to his son and I pointed down the embankment at a twisted hunk of rusted metal, slowly flaking away into the desert.

  “That’s your father’s car.”

  “Nobody towed it out?” he asked. I could hear the surprise in his voice.

  “They didn’t back then if the owner couldn’t afford it. There are some stretches of Route 66 where wrecked cars are piled up at the bottom of steep cliffs, resembling a junkyard. Who knows, maybe someday the Department of Transportation will get extra money and do a big clean-up, but I doubt it.”

  Frank Jr. didn’t respond, instead he stood up and made a cautious descent down the sandy embankment. He slid once and in a jerky motion, put his hand down to stop from falling. His father followed, hovering like a shadow. Eric and I stayed at the guard rail, giving Frank Jr. some time alone and also to keep an eye out for Gavin and Adele’s arrival.

  “Frank is down there with him,” I told Eric.

  “Interesting. I thought seeing his son might be the catalyst for him to cross over.”

  “It still might be. I think they need time together.”

  “I wish I could see what you’re seeing.”

  “Same here.” I zipped my jacket, blocking the cold wind that blew across the desert and leaned towards Eric until our shoulders were touching.

  Frank Jr. circled the remains of his father’s car. The paint job had disappeared under a layer of sand and rust, like moss covering a boulder. New growth had already sprouted up around the tire wells since the brushfire; signs of nature claiming a foreign object, absorbing it into the ecosystem.

  Frank tried repeatedly to put his hand on his son’s shoulder. With each effort he grew brighter and I knew he was calling up on all the energy in the atmosphere available to him as a resource. Frank Jr. started to twitch and swat at the air, like he was being pestered by a persistent insect. Not making progress, Frank picked up a branch from off of the ground. I saw his son’s eyes grow wide as he followed the stick’s progress through the air. Frank wrote something on the sand blanketing the crumbled hood of his old car. We were too far away to make out what his message said.

  Suddenly, Frank Jr. jerked backwards. He didn’t see a rock lodged in the sand directly behind him and he fell, landing in a crab position. He didn’t bother trying to stand, but scurried backwards, trying to move away from the car as quickly as possible.

  Chapter Eighty

  FRANK SR.

  I pursued my son, desperate to make a connection. I didn’t think my attempts at communicating would have caused him to panic. When I was able to harness enough energy and actually put pressure on his shoulder with my hand, he shook it off with a grunt and twisted away. I tried again. This time his nostrils flared and his eyes grew wide, terror creeping into his irises.

  Picking up the branch was such a normal thing that I momentarily forgot my son couldn’t see me. He only saw a stick moving on its own through the air. I had barely finished writing, “I’m here, son” in the sand when complete panic set in and he began to flee. It was hard to reconcile the older, out of shape man running across the uneven desert terrain with who I had pictured in my mind. Even though I saw pictures of him, I’d missed out on watching him grow up so instead of preparing to meet an adult, I had been expecting a child.

  I moved alongside my son as he huffed and wheezed his way up the embankment. Sweat coated his red face in a shiny layer and his hair hung in limp clumps by the time he reached the top.

  “Easy there, are you okay?” Elena tried to intercept, but he was in a blind panic. He brushed past her and after clearing the guard rail, ran onto the road. Eric and Elena ran after him, but had to dodge oncoming vehicles. A horn blared and I watched in horror as my son narrowly avoided being clipped by a tractor trailer. Another car was coming up on him, but it suddenly veered onto the shoulder and came to an abrupt halt. A woman jumped out of the passenger side and ran in front of Junior, grabbing him by his shoulders, bringing him to a stop. I joined them. Looking directly at me she said, “You must be Frank,” she said. Both my son and I said yes at the same time.

  “Who are you?” I asked since my son was gasping for his next breath.

  “I’m Adele - the medium working with Elena.” Eric and Elena had made it across the interstate and stood next to us.

  “What the hell, man, you could have gotten yourself killed!” Eric yelled at my son, which I didn’t like one bit. My hands clenched up into fists. Elena, noticing this reaction, stepped forward, placing herself between me and Eric while talking to my boy.

  “Frank, I know you’re freaked out, but you need to calm down. That was your dad trying to communicate with you.”

  My son’s breathing was back under control, but his whole body was shaking. Gavin popped the trunk of his car and fished a bottle of water out of a cooler. He handed it to Junior who drained the contents in three gulps.

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem, man. I’m Gavin by the way.” They shook hands.

  “Frank, are you sure you’re ready for this?” Adele asked. She placed her hands on his shoulders again and looked up into my son’s eyes. “If you’re not going to be okay then we won’t do anything.”

  I was impressed that this small woman didn’t hesitate to stand toe to toe with a man who towered over her. Her grip on Junior was firm and unyielding. Energy visibly crackled off of her like static electricity. Movement behind the medium caught my attention. Lawrence, Georgia and Bob had joined us. So did another spirit, who seemed vaguely familiar. I glanced from this new spirit to Adele, noting the similarities, realizing this was the identical twin sister Elena told us about.

  “No, I want to do this. I just need a few minutes,” Junior said. His cheeks were less flushed and the sheen of sweat had evaporated. He looked more in control. Adele released her hold on him and my son sat down on the rear bumper of Gavin’s car. He lit up a cigarette and I couldn’t help but notice the brand: Lucky Strikes unfiltered, exactly what I used to smoke.

  “Man, what I would do for a smoke,” Bob said. He stood next to me and stared longingly at the cigarette in my son’s hand.

  Next Lawrence came to stand with us. “I used to enjoy an occasional cigar myself - not around Helen though, the smoke upset her asthma too much.”

  “It’s weird the things you miss, isn’t it?” a voice said from behind. I turned to see Adele’s sister. “For me, I miss actually feeling the sun. Here we are standing out in the middle of daylight, but feel nothing.”

  I nodded in agreement. “You’re Adele’s siste
r, right?”

  “Yes, Amelia and you all are?” We went around the group introducing ourselves. I still kept an eye on my son, but had taken a step back from trying to communicate with him. Seeing how close he came to being hit by a truck was enough for me.

  Junior finished his smoke; dropping the butt onto the dirt he ground it out with the tip of his sneaker. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  “Hey man, I freaked out when I first saw the writing in the sand and everything too,” Eric said, “It gets easier.”

  “Good.” He stood up straighter and brushed his hair back. “So, what’s next?” he asked Adele.

  “I know your father does want to connect with you. We’ll go somewhere private and do it, one on one.” She turned to me. “We’ll follow you.”

  I led them to Juanita’s memorial. She had crossed over soon after reuniting with her daughter. While originally I had hoped for the same results, now that my son was here, I wasn’t ready to leave.

  It was only after we stopped that I noticed Amelia was with us. She gave me a reassuring smile before her sister started giving instructions.

  “I’m going to hold your hand,” Adele said to my son. “Then I’m going to hold onto your father’s hand. I’ll be the conduit so hopefully you’ll be able to see and talk to him.”

  Junior licked his lips and nodded, stretching his hand out to Adele. She grasped it and then reached for mine. When our hands joined, a jolt traveled up my arm, coursing through me. I experienced a similar sensation when we harnessed energy during lightning storms.

  I heard a gasp. Junior was staring at me, actually looking directly at me. “Oh my God, it’s really you,” he whispered. “Mom gave me all the pictures of you. That’s how I know.”

  “When?” I asked.

  “When what?”

  “When did she give you those pictures?”

  “After she re-married. She said she didn’t need them anymore.”

  I winced at the coldness of this statement; Junior didn’t hold back on the obvious resentment he felt towards Faye’s second marriage.

  “That’s all in the past now.”

  “Easy for you to say.”

  My son and I regarded each other for the first time. He was tall like me, but he had Faye’s chin and he held it at an angle, like she did when she was on the defense. He had my hairline, my eyes and my build, but his coloring was more Faye. I wondered what he looked like as a baby.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you born. If I had a choice, I’d have been.”

  “Grandma said you made your choice when you left for that guys’ weekend.”

  “Yes, that sounds like something she would have said. Your grandmother and I weren’t exactly close. What about my parents?”

  Junior shook his head. “They were around at first, but after mom remarried we moved and I didn’t see them after that. Mom tried hard to cut all ties with her previous life.”

  “And where did you fit in?” I asked, although I knew what his answer would be.

  “I didn’t. I was constantly compared to you…and not in a good way. The first time I got busted in high school for drinking, mom almost threw me out of the house. She said I was going to wind up doing something really stupid and she didn’t want any part of it. I was surprised when her husband intervened, but he only did because it would look bad if they kicked me out – since I was a minor. After that, I was just a series of disappointments. As soon as I turned eighteen, I was gone.”

  “That doesn’t sound like the Faye I knew. We had our problems, but I loved your mom and she loved me.”

  “I think she did. One of my first memories is of her holding me and crying. Her arms were wrapped tight around me and she rocked back and forth, her tears dampening my hair. I was so scared…couldn’t have been more than three years old at the time. A few years after that she met Henry and that’s when she gave all of your pictures to me. They were stored in a Lone Ranger box at the top of my closet for years. I took the box with me when I moved out.”

  “Did you go to college – play sports – anything like that?”

  “Sure, I played football in high school, but didn’t go to college. I started selling cars right after I moved out. This career choice was another ‘disappointment’ to mom. I was good at it though.”

  “Was?”

  “There isn’t much I’m good at anymore. I work at this pathetic excuse of a used car lot where I live, by the way, in a piece of shit trailer, plus I have a court date next month and could be sent to jail this time.”

  Anger washed over me. Not directed at my son, but at myself and more so at Faye. I didn’t want to die. I shouldn’t have been drinking and driving, I know that, but it’s not like I planned the accident – hell, I should never have gone on that trip. Faye had a choice and she chose to take out all of her hurt and resentment on our son. He was an innocent and her displaced blame ruined him. I don’t think he was ever given a chance. How do you right so many years of wrong?

  “You got a bum deal, son and for this I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged his shoulders and looked away, his eyes focusing on some distant point behind me.

  The current of energy that had been flowing from Adele stuttered then stopped. “Dad, where did you go?”’ Junior asked.

  Adele’s hand slipped from mine and she swayed before collapsing in a heap on the ground, resembling a discarded doll. Her sister appeared and crouched over Adele on one side while my son knelt down on her other side, completely unaware of Amelia’s presence. He checked Adele’s pulse and relaxed when she moaned, turning her head slightly before opening her eyes.

  “Dilly, are you okay?” her sister asked.

  ‘Yes, Milly, I’m fine. My resources are depleted.” She looked at my son. “Can you help me up?”

  “Sure!” Junior grasped Adele’s hand and pulled her to her feet, placing a hand at the small of her back until she was steady. “Um, who’s Milly?”

  “Thank you.” Adele wiped dust off her backside. “Milly is my sister, but she’s a ghost too so you can’t see her.” They began walking back to the clearing and I followed. “I’ll need Elena and Milly’s help if you want to continue talking to your dad.”

  “I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” My son’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Adele with obvious concern. His hand was on the small of her back again and he slowed his pace to walk by her side.

  “Oh, I’ll be fine, but thank you.” We had reached the clearing and Adele went right for the cooler full of bottled water. After taking a few sips she placed the bottle against her forehead and closed her eyes.

  “Everything good?” Elena asked.

  “Yes, but I don’t think Frank and his son are finished. So I’ll need to channel your energy like I did when we called up Gavin’s brother.”

  “Okay.”

  Adele finished the water and, taking a deep breath, started walking back towards Juanita’s memorial. Elena joined us this time and so did Amelia. We all joined hands and my son smiled when he saw me. I smiled back and wished I could hug him, reassure him like a child and tell him everything was going to be all right.

  “We’ll have to make this fast, fellas. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to last,” Adele said.

  I didn’t waste any time and jumped right in. “Listen son, I can’t help you with your legal troubles, but I do know that life is too short to waste it. Don’t live in the past. Whatever wrongs your mom did to you, don’t let them dictate your life. You can change if you want to. I started to change. That guys’ weekend was going to be my last hoorah before you were born. I wanted to be a better man, husband and father. I just never got the chance to prove to your mom that I could be that person she wanted.”

  “Like I said earlier, Dad, it’s not so easy.”

  “No it’s not. Life isn’t easy. Death isn’t either. I’ve spent decades regretting my decisions. I missed out on seeing you born, raising you, seeing you grow into a man.”

  “Yeah, well y
ou get to see me now…as a spectacular fuck up. I’ll be sixty soon and what do I have to show for myself?”

  “You’re still here. You’re alive...doing a hell of a lot better than me.”

  Junior opened his mouth to say something, but snapped it shut with a click of his jaw. “You’re absolutely right,” he said after a few moments. He stood up straighter, making his paunch less noticeable.

  Adele’s energy stuttered again. Her eyes were closed in concentration, but the color had faded from her cheeks. Elena was pale too and sweat dripped down from her temple. Amelia flickered, fading to invisible a few times. Knowing time was running out, I said the words I had longed to say for decades, “I’m your father and love you no matter what.”

  Chapter Eighty-One

  ELENA

  Adele was too exhausted to do anything else that afternoon, so Gavin drove her back to Scottsdale. We made arrangements to meet again the next day at noon. I was tired too and dozed most of the way back to Prescott. We dropped a subdued Frank Jr. off at a motel on route 89A then headed to Eric’s apartment. Once inside, I collapsed on the sofa. Eric brought me a bottle of water and sat down. I moved so my head was on his lap and fell asleep to the sounds of the news on the television.

  When I woke, the apartment was dark and a pillow had replaced Eric’s lap. I sat up and stretched. My body ached like it did after working out, which I hadn’t done in a few weeks. A light spilling out into the hallway led me to the second bedroom in Eric’s apartment, which served as a guest room/office. The desk lamp was on and Eric sat in front of his computer. Walking up behind him, I wrapped my arms around his chest.

  “Hey, feeling better?” he asked, leaning his head back against me.

  “Mmmmm” I said against his neck. He laughed as the vibration tickled.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “I’m starving,” my stomach growled at the thought of food. “This whole medium business sure works up an appetite.”

  After exploring the limited food options in Eric’s kitchen, we settled on spaghetti with marinara sauce. While we ate, we recapped the day’s events.