by S. A. Hunter
Mary hugged Chowder. “Not psychic.”
Gran quickly stepped in. “I’ll be happy to make an appointment with you, Mr. Connor. Why don’t you follow me, and we’ll discuss it?”
Gran led Mr. Connor into her office while Mary went to the front to get the mail. She was still processing the coincidence of two people dating and both having ghostly-spouse problems. Was that how they had hooked up? Did they strike up a conversation one night while playing bridge and figure it out? ‘My wife, God rest her soul, has been driving me crazy by turning on the radio at all hours of the night.’ ‘Oh, I know what you mean. My late husband likes to flick the lights. It’s about to give me seizures.’ ‘Hey, you know what? We should go out. That’ll drive’em crazy.’ ‘Yes, that’ll be a switch.’ And a happy couple was born from ghostly problems. Too bad relationships didn’t usually work that way. Having ghost problems certainly hadn’t brought her and Cy together.
When she got inside, she set Chowder down and tossed the mail onto the coffee table. She took her book bag upstairs to her room, and when she came back down, she found Gran in the kitchen with her head in the fridge.
“Did you and Mr. Connor figure something out?”
“Yes, we set up a meeting for next week. He told me a little bit about his situation, and it’s surprisingly like Nina's.”
“Huh, that’s weird, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but maybe we could use it to our advantage.”
“How?”
“I’m thinking if the late Mr. Beadley and the late Mrs. Connor meet, they might be able to see that they’re leaving their spouses well cared for. Mr. Connor thinks he knows what his wife is anchored to, but he’s been unable to part with it. I’m going to meet him at Nina’s home and hopefully have a nice chat with all of them. Did Chowder find the anchor?”
“Yeah, I almost had it before we left. It's in the kitchen in one of the upper cabinets.”
“That's good. Maybe I'll take him with me when I go back.”
“Do you want me to come along?”
Gran shook her head. “No, I should be able to handle this by myself. You have school work and your volunteering to take care of.”
“Yeah, but I like helping you.”
Gran smiled. “I know, but this is my responsibility. Don’t worry about it. Now I need to get dinner made, so we aren't late to your orientation.”
* * *
“Which one are we signing up for again?” Rachel whispered.
“The hospitality cart.”
“You know that means you’re supposed to smile and chat with people, right?”
“Yeah, so?”
Rachel gave her a look.
“I can smile and chat.”
She continued her look.
“Okay, I can smile. You can chat.”
“Why do I have to be the Chatty Cathy?”
Mary threw Rachel’s look right back at her.
“Fine, I’ll chat, but you better smile so much your cheeks ache tomorrow.”
She nodded and tried on a smile to show her acceptance of the plan. They’d listened to the volunteer coordinator tell them about how important patient confidentiality was and how they were supposed to be sensitive to the patient’s needs and situation. They weren’t supposed to make assumptions about the patient, and they weren’t to pity the patients. It all sounded like good advice. They got their pictures taken for their ID badges, and they went over a map of the hospital. The coordinator told them what volunteers were expected and not expected to do like they could give patients a glass of water, but not help them to the bathroom. Finally, they were split up to start doing their new tasks.
Rachel and Mary were handed over to Mabel, a seasoned volunteer and retired nurse. She had short gray hair and big red lips. She beamed at them when they were led over, and crowed, “Yes! I get the young ones!”
Mary and Rachel gave her nervous smiles. Mabel’s eyes softened. “It’s really good to see two young ladies helping out. You two will be covering the second floor.” When Mary heard that, she exchanged a quick glance with Rachel. They’d see Vicky.
Mabel showed them where everything was on the cart and how to fill the coffee and hot-water dispensers. Coffee, tea, magazines, and weekly newspapers were offered at no cost. Patients could also purchase small items from the cart, such as candy, toiletries, and stamps. They had to keep a tally of items sold and take special care with the cash box.
It all seemed simple enough except for the stopping and chatting bit. They were warned not to stay too long with a patient while on their rounds, but not to be in too much of a hurry either. If they wanted, they could promise to come back once their rounds were done to sit with patients and play board games or cards.
“That would really delight some of these guys. If you need a board game, just ask at the nurse’s station. They usually have a few stowed there.”
Mary was starting to feel really nervous. She hadn’t signed up to really volunteer, just to snoop, but here was Mabel saying that they could do someone a lot of good by playing a round of Pictionary. It seemed mean not to be willing to do that.
Mabel led them around the second floor. Mary got stuck pushing the cart while Rachel knocked on doors to ask if anyone wanted anything.
There were a few requests for coffee. Mary filled cups and helped Rachel take them in. Mabel introduced them to patients and nurses. A lot of the nurses knew Rachel’s mom so were extra-welcoming. Mary was starting to get dizzy from all the nodding and hello-ing. Everyone was just so happy to see them. It was making her a bit nauseated.
She wasn’t sure if she could go into Vicky’s room when they came to it. She was nervous about who she’d find in there. Rachel glanced at her, and she could see the nervousness in her eyes, too. Mabel was oblivious to their tension. She motioned for Rachel to knock. Rachel tapped softly on the door and opened it a crack.
“Would anyone like something from the hospitality cart?” she asked. Mary couldn’t see into the room, but from the way Rachel worded the question, she knew there had to be multiple people in there. She hoped it was just Vicky’s parents.
“Rachel?”
Nope, not just her parents.
“Hey Cy, I’m volunteering with the hospitality cart. Would you like anything from it? Would you, Mrs. Nelson?”
The door was pulled open wider, and Cy stood there. His eyes widened when he saw Mary. She grasped the handlebar to the cart tighter and twisted it a bit, ready to take off at a sprint with it.
“Oh, you know each other?” Mabel said.
“We know Vicky. She goes to our school,” Mary said. She stared at Cy and then past him into the room. Mrs. Nelson came up behind him.
“Oh, you girls volunteer? That’s really nice. I’m glad I get to see you again. I didn’t catch your names when you were here earlier.”
“Oh, um, I’m Rachel and that’s Mary,” Rachel said.
“Rachel and Mary. I think Vicky has mentioned a classmate named Mary…” Mrs. Nelson trailed off and then sort of jumped. Mary figured the only way Vicky would’ve mentioned her was in a disparaging manner. She had no idea how explicit Vicky would have been with her mother about her loathing of Mary but gauging from Mrs. Nelson’s reaction, she’d been told a little at least.
Mrs. Nelson seemed to remember herself and said, “I think I will take a cup of coffee.”
Cy was glaring at her. She tried to ignore him, but her eyes kept jumping to him. She was jittery as she poured the coffee and spilled some over her hand. It made her hiss.
“Any change with Vicky?” Rachel asked.
Mrs. Nelson took a sip of her coffee and shook her head. “None, but there’s still plenty of hope.”
“We should be going. Don’t want to bother you,” Mary said, giving the cart a push.
“Please stop by again. It was nice meeting you both.” Rachel and Mary gave Mrs. Nelson a polite wave. Cy still stood in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes locked on them.
Once they w
ere further down the hall, Mabel tentatively asked, “Is the young lady a good friend of yours?”
Rachel didn’t answer. She appeared very engrossed in the floor tiles. Mary softened the truth so as not to upset Mabel. “Not really, but I’ve known her for years, and the guy that was there was a friend.” She grimaced and hoped Mabel thought the past tense was a simple grammatical error, though the way he had scowled at them the whole time probably made her reasons for using the past tense pretty obvious. Mabel, though, didn’t reply. She just nodded her head.
They were walking through the last wing. Rachel had taken charge and was knocking on every door without prompting, but as she went to knock on one door, Mabel swooped in to stop her.
“This room doesn’t need hospitality.”
“It’s empty?” Rachel asked because there appeared to be a chart on the door.
Mabel grimaced and opened her mouth to reply but didn’t get a chance because from behind the closed door, a cranky, nasally voice shouted, “Don’t you dare slide on by! I want coffee!”
Mabel’s shoulders slumped. “Make up one cup of coffee. Black. I’ll take it in. You girls can wait out here.”
“What’s wrong?” Rachel asked. The retired nurse had been so energetic and cheerful up until that moment.
“Mr. White is one of our more unpleasant patients. You don’t have to stop by his room.”
“Quit your old woman gossiping and bring me my coffee!”
Mabel’s lips thinned. She muttered, “I’ll bring you your coffee, you evil old goat.” But when she pushed the door open, there was a smile on her face. Rachel and Mary raised their eyebrows at each other. They stole a peek into the room. An old man was propped up in one of the beds with a breathing tube looped across his face. The other bed was empty.
“That sure as hell better not be decaf,” he said.
Mabel set the cup on his bed table. “No, it’s full strength with a dash of arsenic for extra kick.”
The old man harrumphed, and his eyes shot to the door. “Well, get your sorry asses in here if you want to take a gander. Can’t see much of anything cowering like yellowbellies in the doorway.”
The girls looked to Mabel for her nod before taking a few small steps in. “Young ones, eh? What’d you do to get this punishment? Crash Daddy’s car while high on Mary Jane?”
“We’re volunteering because we want to. Do you need anything else, Mr. White?” Rachel asked.
Mr. White ignored her question. He turned to Mary with a sly smile. “Like I’m supposed to believe that one’s here on her own volition. Bet her skin’s just crawling. Or ears burning. How’s the heavenly choir sounding?”
She stiffened. How did he know? She stared at him harder, really looking at him. She looked past the breathing tube, the IV line, and the heart monitor. She looked at his arms and his hands. There were jeweled rings on his gnarled fingers, and dark inky tattoos on his forearms. The rings had sigils on them and the tattoos were pentagrams with various symbols and writing around them. Signs of power and protection. “Anything tugging at you, Mr. White? Pulling you down?”
Mabel looked startled by her question, but Mr. White only chuckled. “Ain’t no shadows here, little girl.”
Chapter 6
The Shadowman
After Mabel ushered them out of Mr. White’s room, she told them that they didn’t need to stop by his room ever again. Mary and Rachel nodded obediently, but Mary knew they would be going back. He was their only lead. They finished their shift and thanked Mabel for showing them everything. Once they were free of her, they went back to his room.
“Do you really think he knows something?” Rachel asked.
Mary shrugged. “He seemed to. He called me out clear enough.”
“What if he’s behind the thing harming Vicky?”
“I don’t know about that. Why let on that he knew anything? I don’t even know what’s bothering Vicky. He has a clue.” They were back at his door. Mary knocked, but Mr. White didn’t call them in.
She opened the door cautiously. He was still propped up in his bed, but his eyes were closed and his mouth was hanging open. “Mr. White?” she called.
He didn’t stir. They crept up to the bed. “Mr. White?” she called again. He still didn’t stir.
“Do you think he’s dead?” Rachel whispered.
“Do I look dead?” he snapped, opening his eyes to glare at her.
Rachel jumped. “Um, yeah?”
He smacked his lips and turned to Mary. “So you’re here about the Shadowman.”
“What's a Shadowman?”
“What you’re after.”
“But what is it?”
He just grinned.
Her eyes narrowed. “What do you know?”
Mr. White chuckled again and looked at his nails. “I know all sorts of things. Want a few things, too.”
“You want us to bribe you?” Rachel asked.
He pointed at her. “She’s quick. Can see why you keep her around.”
“What do you want?” Mary asked, already getting a sinking feeling.
“Stuff that ain’t on the hospitality cart. At least not yet. Gonna bring me a few things and then I’ll tell you about the Shadowman.”
“That thing’s hurting people, and you’re going to force us to bring you stuff before you help?” Rachel demanded.
“What I got to tell is valuable, isn’t it? Can get stuff for it. Capitalism is a lovely thing.”
“What do you want?” Mary repeated.
Rachel crossed her arms, clearly not happy to be even listening to the old man’s demands.
“I want what any man wants: cigars, booze, and women. Get me a pack of Swisher Sweets, a bottle of JD, and a couple issues of Hustler.”
“We aren’t old enough to buy any of those things. We’re not old enough to even touch them,” Rachel said.
“Not my problem.”
“How do you know about the Shadowman? How’d you know about me?” Mary asked.
“Can see it. How else?”
“What do you see?”
Mr. White stared at her a moment and then his eyes slid away. “Can just see ya, that’s all.”
“What about the Shadowman? What do you know about it? A classmate told me it was clawing at her. She thought it was going to kill her.”
“Might do that. Better get me what I want quickly, if you’re going to stop it.”
She stared at him. Frustration bubbled up in her. What he wanted was impossible. They couldn’t get those things. She didn’t even know where to get issues of Hustler. Like Rachel said, how could he demand these things when people were in danger? She wasn’t asking Vicky for payback for helping her. Rachel tugged on her arm.
“Come on, Mary. Let’s just go.”
Mary followed Rachel out of the room. She took one last look at Mr. White before closing the door. He’d leaned back in his bed, and his eyes were closed once again.
“I can’t believe that old fart. Asking us to get those things-- isn’t that like corrupting a minor or something?”
“He knows something, Rach.”
“Yeah, probably because he’s the one behind it. He’s our prime suspect. We should investigate him.”
“How?”
“Mabel might know something. We should ask her. We’re supposed to come back in two days for our next shift.”
They were at the elevators again, waiting for a car. She didn’t know what to make of Mr. White. She didn’t suspect him, like Rachel did. He had the gift. She couldn’t imagine someone with the gift doing wrong with it. She knew that was probably naïve, but she had to believe it. She’d been called evil before, but she knew that the ones who’d called her that were wrong. She was different, but that didn’t mean she was evil, and the same went for Mr. White.
The elevator doors opened to reveal Cy, whose eyes narrowed when he saw them. Mary’s stomach dropped, but Rachel wasn’t as thrown off by his appearance. “Hi, Cy. Glad Vicky’s doing okay.” Rac
hel edged around him to get into the elevator, tugging Mary with her. Cy stepped in their way.
“What are you two doing here?”
“We finished up volunteering and are now going home. It was our first day.”
“You just decided to start volunteering?” he asked. He sounded suspicious. She didn’t know what he could be thinking. She doubted he’d consider the possibility that Vicky had visited her in a dream and asked for her help, and it wasn’t like she could tell him that.
“Rachel’s mom is a nurse. She encouraged us to volunteer. It’ll look good on our college applications.” The lie came out without any thought. A while back, she’d accepted the fact that she would have to lie to Cy to have any sort of relationship with him. She tried not to think about the fact that she needed to lie to a boy she liked to get him to like her. She suspected that by doing so, she was somehow lying to herself.
“Yeah, my mom’s all about creating the stellar college application.”
He crossed his arms and stared at the floor for a bit before he spoke. “Look, don’t mess with Vicky. I know she has never been your friend, but she’s in a coma. That’s bad. It’s not some opportunity to get one-up on her or something. Just leave her alone. A lot of people care about her, and we’re all praying that she makes it through this. Just respect that, okay? Please?”
She didn't know what to say. He really thought this was just one big ploy to mess with Vicky? Her world didn’t revolve around Vicky-- though currently she did affect the orbit some, but everything was NOT about Vicky. She suddenly knew what to say. “There are over a hundred patients in this hospital. Only one of them happens to be Vicky. We just spent the last two hours going around and helping some of them. We aren’t here to mess with her. We’re trying to help others. Get over yourself.”
She stomped into the elevator and jabbed the “door close” button. Rachel slipped in behind her. Cy stared at them as the doors shut. His gaze was sad. She’d snapped at a guy who was worried about his hurt girlfriend. She needed to shake off the guilt that welled up. He’d deserved it, and she hadn’t been that harsh. At least, she didn’t think so. She wasn’t going to apologize.