by T Paulin
“Not really,” Eli answered. “Brenda watches a lot of those home improvement shows. You scratch the wallpaper surface with a tool, then rent a steamer to…” He stopped talking, mouth agape, and watched as the poltergeist peeled a strip of wallpaper down the wall.
Khan gave him a knowing look and poured himself a glass of milk to go with the cookies.
After a few minutes of wallpaper shredding, Eli said, “I’m still not clear on the procedures, and I want to do a good job while minimizing bodily damage.”
The poltergeist kept working on the wallpaper, but only the easy spots, where it was already loose. Whenever the paper tore, the mischievous spirit moved over to another easy spot.
Eli frowned at the mess of wallpaper. “So, how do we do this?”
“We do this like the devil puts on trousers,” Khan replied.
“One leg at a time?”
Khan raised his dark eyebrows in response.
Eli guessed again. “With style?”
No, that wasn’t it.
Eli ventured a third guess. “Does the devil put on trousers quickly, so he can go for lunch? Or—”
Eli’s fourth guess was cut off by a flying-V formation of books, raining down on him like he was a trash can fire that needed smothering.
The books from the living room. He hadn’t expected that.
Even under the mountain of paperbacks and hardcover editions, Eli could hear Khan say, “The devil puts on his trousers with one eye over his shoulder, Eli.”
“Gah.”
“He’s always watching out for the woman’s husband, who might come home unexpectedly.”
“Good one,” Eli groaned.
After the hardcovers, the poltergeist moved on to paperbacks. Eli let out plenty of groans, which encouraged the ghost to try harder. It eventually ran out of books and piled on all the food from the pantry.
Once the immature spirit had tired itself out, it went to rest inside a hand-made teapot. Khan set up the pentapods and extracted it without any damage to the teapot.
The owner was very grateful, and gave them a tip on top of their fee.
They finished packing up, skipped lunch, and went straight to the second job.
The second job of the day, which was Eli’s fourth poltergeist, went so smoothly, even Khan seemed surprised.
As they did their best to tidy up the disaster at the day’s second job, Khan said, “The para-electrical elements really have a thing for you. I’ve never seen anything like it. They’re attracted to everything about you. They love you.”
Eli turned upright the reclining chair he’d briefly worn as a hat. “That figures. My whole life, I’ve had trouble making friends with regular people, and now it turns out I’m a freak-magnet.”
“Are you calling me a freak?”
Eli sought the words to apologize for what he’d implied, but Khan quickly added, “Don’t answer that. I know I’m a freak, and that’s okay.”
Khan wiped some sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, and briefly looked just vulnerable enough for Eli to get a squishy feeling in his chest. Khan felt like a misfit, just like him. They weren’t so different after all. Eli got another squishy feeling, like he wanted to hug Khan. He clenched his jaw until the un-manly feeling passed.
The doorbell rang. It was the client, checking to see if the job was finished. While Khan let the client back in and arranged for payment, Eli opened the room’s curtains. A crowd of neighbors had gathered on the front lawn, and they craned their necks to peer in.
At least half of them were frowning at Eli, suspicion in their eyes. He could hear a few snippets of their conversation through the closed window, but only the voices that were angry enough to be loud.
One man said, “It’s like those glass repair shops who throw bricks through people’s windows when business is slow.”
Another woman ranted about “an investigation” and “getting some reporters down here.”
A surly-looking man the size and shape of a refrigerator rapped on the window’s glass. “Where are your credentials?” he demanded.
Eli started to pull the curtains shut again, but paused when he noticed the little boy, Joey, standing in the crowd. Joey was holding Nigel in his arms so the rat-dog didn’t get crushed in the crowd, but he could still move one hand enough to wave hello to Eli.
Joey said something, possibly about comics, but Eli couldn’t hear him over the angry crowd.
Khan had finished with the client, and thrust a bag of gear into Eli’s arms. “We’re paid up, we’re done.”
“Did you hand out business cards?”
Khan was already on his way toward the back door.
Eli waved goodbye to Joey through the window, then ran after his boss.
On Friday morning, bruised and weary from muscle soreness, Eli stumbled into the kitchenette at Ghost Hackers and went straight for the box of pastries.
He was raising a jelly donut to his mouth when the Hart siblings walked in and Valentine said, “Smash off.”
He wasn’t expecting a smash off, and didn’t flex his wrist fast enough. Valentine won the smash off by squishing jelly up his nostril.
“You win,” he said.
“You’re a cheater,” Khan said, admonishing his sister.
“I won that, fair and square.” She ate her donut with a charming combination of dainty grace and tomboyish carelessness. Eli gazed in admiration, training his eyes on the area above her neckline. He didn’t dare let his gaze drop down to Valentine’s dangerous curves.
She’s just a co-worker, he told himself. Just a human being, with normal human stuff. Half the population is female. Some are tall and some are short. Some have narrow waists, curvy hips, and long legs. All those things are none of your business, he said in his head.
Eli kept his gaze above the danger line. He watched as Valentine finished the donut, then licked her fingers. She put one finger at a time into her mouth and sucked off the jelly and powdered sugar. With each lick, Eli’s body became more numb, until he felt like he was no longer in his body, or in this room.
Khan elbowed him and said, “What’s on your mind, my man?”
Eli opened his mouth and told them exactly what he’d been thinking about while watching pretty Valentine lick her fingers.
He couldn’t stop himself. Out came the truth.
What he revealed on that Friday morning in the kitchenette of Ghost Hackers was so horrifying, his own ears blocked him from hearing the words. To Eli, it was as if a loud beep filled the room, bleeping out what he was saying.
This had happened to him before, twice. Both times he had been daydreaming in a classroom. The pretty brunette teacher he had a crush on had asked him what he was daydreaming about. Without thinking, young Eli responded truthfully. He had no idea what exact words he’d said, because the bleep filled his head then as it did now. However, the shocked look on his teacher’s face, plus the ensuing laughter from his classmates told him everything he needed to know.
Now, as Valentine lowered her hand from her moist, full, sensual lips, the look on her face told Eli that if Ghost Hackers had a principal’s office, he’d be getting sent there right now.
Once the bleeping sound stopped, Eli clenched his teeth together tightly and waited for something to hit him. He fully expected his face to reacquaint itself with Khan’s fist.
But the fist didn’t come. Nor did the relative relief of crumpling over in physical agony.
Instead, there was only awkward silence.
Finally, Valentine said, “And on that note, here’s your pay check.” She didn’t hand him the envelope, though. She stepped back and set it on the room’s small table, as though handing Eli an envelope directly would be too much of an invitation for depravity.
“I’m sorry,” he said through gritted teeth. “That’s the chip in my brain.”
She kept backing away, but slowly. “The chip makes you do things? Khan was telling the truth about that?”
“Yes
. Please don’t stick my head in a microwave.”
She snorted. “Not without modifications.”
Eli didn’t know what to say to that, so he kept apologizing.
“Don’t sweat it, Eli,” she said. “It’s actually refreshing to be around someone as honest as you.” Her eyes twinkled as a smile curved her lips. “I’ll try to be more careful about how I eat donuts from now on.”
“That probably won’t help,” Eli said, which was true.
She darted forward, plucked another donut from the box, then made a hasty retreat back to her workshop.
Chapter Eight
Valentine scheduled them for three jobs on Friday. All poltergeists. All within blocks of each other.
They gathered up the basic equipment, including the restocked first aid kit. They were running low on bandages, thanks to the piranhas and a few other things.
The poltergeists were juveniles, according to Khan, so most of Eli’s injuries were accidental.
Khan seemed preoccupied as he jotted the addresses on his arm.
Eli assumed it was because of what he’d said to Valentine. They walked out to the van, where Eli got into the driver’s seat. He braced himself, expecting the chewing-out to happen now that they were alone in the van.
He started driving to the job site. To Eli’s relief, once on the road, Khan didn’t bring up the topic of that morning’s interactions with Valentine.
Instead, he regaled Eli with tales of his previous night’s celebrations at a strip club.
As the stories continued, Eli allowed himself to relax. Whatever he’d said during the bleep couldn’t be worse than a single descriptive sentence from Khan’s strip club stories.
Eli didn’t interrupt Khan’s ping pong story, because he didn’t want to compete over who’d had the best night, but his own Thursday night had been better than average. Brenda had cooked another meatloaf made of “dead cow” and served it with mashed potatoes. He’d had two full servings, which, when it came to Brenda’s cooking, was one and a half servings more than he usually wanted.
They arrived at the address and parked behind the house like plumbers. For a moment, they just sat in the quiet van, neither making the first move to start the day.
“Friday,” Eli said.
Khan grumbled about being hung over, and Eli silently rubbed his sore shoulder. In addition to the piranha bites, which were healing up nicely, Eli’s body was covered in bruises.
He wondered what color the bruise on his tailbone current was, and he wondered if every color had a name. He couldn’t think of an alternate name for the color of a bruise. The color of a bruise wasn’t green, or grey, or purple, but something that was all of those things, plus a bit of yellow.
The interior of the van was eerily quiet. Khan had stopped talking. Eli’s mind had been wandering through the bruise rainbow, and now he wasn’t sure if they were still talking about the local liquor and stripper economy, or if that conversation was over.
“Good times,” Eli said, which was one of his stock responses for when he hadn’t been paying attention.
“Good times,” Khan agreed.
Eli peeked under a bandage on his forearm. His piranha bite had scabbed over, and the surrounding tissue looked healthy, but bruise-colored.
Brenda had been surprised the bites weren’t worse, but figured the air-borne piranhas may have been stunned and not at their best. She also said Eli was her big, strong, hero, and it was her duty to play nurse and kiss everything better.
“Triple header today,” Khan said. “I guess we should get to work.”
Eli looked down at the first aid kit on the floor between the bucket seats. “We’re out of bandages. These are the last ones.”
“I’ll pick some up on the weekend,” Khan said. “On Sunday. I plan to sleep all day Saturday.”
“We’re not working through the weekend? I thought you said Valentine had our docket booked solid for days and days.”
“The jobs can wait. I don’t work weekends. No overtime if I can help it. The business has to serve you, not the other way around.”
“I just thought…” Eli let the news wash over him in waves, disintegrating the sandcastles of his weekend plans. Glumly, he said, “I thought I was going to get out of shopping with Brenda at the containers store.”
“You would rather have couches dropped on your head?”
“It’s not just the containers store.” Eli patted his pocket, where he had his first week’s pay check safely tucked away. “She’s got a whole shopping plan.” After opening the envelope that morning, he’d made the mistake of sending the total to Brenda, who’d gotten more than a little excited. Even now, his phone was vibrating with incoming messages.
“You do need a new laptop,” Khan said. “Val says your old one’s fried up like pork chops at grandma’s.”
“I’m a few pay checks away from a new laptop. We have to ‘upgrade’ things. There’s a list. She says I have to get all new underwear.”
“What’s wrong with your underwear? Uh, never mind.” Khan held up his hand, palm out. “I don’t want to know.”
It was too late, though. Eli had already grabbed the slack waistband of his no-longer-elasticized underwear and tugged it above the waist of his cargo pants to show Khan some of the holes.
“Those aren’t bad,” Khan said. “They’re just getting broken in and comfortable. I bought some in that condition from Diesel a year ago. Still good.” He shook his head. “She’ll probably make you buy tight designer underwear that rides up your crack, because she thinks you’ll look like the guy on the box. This is just one more reason I’m glad to be single.”
“Do you want me to save you my old ones after I’m done shopping?”
Khan snorted. “Yes, Eli. I want to clothe myself in the same fabric that’s been cupping your hamsters for the last three years.”
“Two years, tops. And I have several pairs. They’re in rotation.”
Khan seemed to be reconsidering the offer. “How many pairs?”
Someone tapped on the driver’s side window, where Eli was sitting. It was Joey, looking forlorn in his dirty, ripped clothes.
Instead of just rolling down the window, Eli jumped out to greet the little boy, who held his rat-like dog, Nigel, in his arms.
“I’m glad to see someone’s feeding you,” Eli said. “You have jam and peanut butter on your face, little man.”
Nigel’s ears pricked up, and he immediately licked the food off Joey’s face.
A crazy thought popped into Eli’s head: The kid’s been practicing black magic, and turned one of his parents into a small dog! Yes, that would explain why Nigel barked his head off whenever Joey’s parents were mentioned. It would also explain why nobody gave the kid a bath. Dogs don’t like baths.
“I know the secret thing you do,” Joey said. “You guys are ghost catchers.”
“Yes,” Eli admitted.
“Do you do… other stuff, too?”
“What did you have in mind, Joey? Is there something you want to tell me?”
The rat-faced dog looked up at Eli and tipped his head, as if to say, just keep catching the poltergeists that slip out of the Dark Grid and mind your own business.
“What?” Eli asked the dog. “Dark Grid?”
Nigel curled his black lips up over sharp canines and snarled in response.
Joey set the dog down. “Shut up, Nigel.”
Khan came around the van with the bags slung over his shoulders.
“What’s going on here?” Khan asked the kid. “Do you know something about these Disturbances? What do you know about para-electrical elements, kid?”
Joey gave a one-shoulder shrug. “Got any more magic tricks?” He didn’t wait for a response before darting toward Khan, his quick hands plunging into a cargo pocket next to Khan’s knee.
Khan held his ground and turned to Eli. “Another reason I’m glad to be single. No wife, no kids.”
Eli got a wry smile. “You seem kin
d of defensive about the single life today. Was Brandee with two e’s putting some pressure on you last night?”
“I’d make a joke about Brandee and the right kind of pressure, but it wouldn’t seem right with these little paws digging around in my pockets.” He stepped back, shaking Joey off his legs. “Enough, kid.”
“What’s this?” Joey held up an orange flyer retrieved from Khan’s pocket. “What’s a… R-E-N-N F-A-I-R-E?”
Eli reached down and grabbed the flyer to take a look. He had a dim memory of getting handed a Renn Faire flyer at the comic shop on Wednesday.
He explained to Joey, “This happens every year in one of the city parks. A Renn Faire is like a circus for geeks.”
“Why don’t they call it a geek circus then?”
Khan snorted.
Eli gave Khan a dirty look and did not remind him that the flyer had come from Khan’s pocket, where it had been since his purchase of very geeky graphic novels. Eli let it go, because he knew that the people who made fun of geeks the loudest were always big geeks themselves, in deep denial.
Joey read aloud the bullet points on the flyer, “Costumes. Sword fights. Games. Jousting. Prizes. Oh, man, this sounds like the best thing ever. Please, please, can I go? I need to go to the Renn Faire. I NEED to go.”
“Sure, keep the flyer,” Eli said.
“You can pick me up on Sunday at noon,” Joey said. “I have to ask first, but it’ll be fine. Right, Nigel?” He looked down at the little dog, who didn’t bark or say anything.
“Uh,” Eli said.
Joey beamed up at them, his smile radiant within his grimy face. “Thank you, Eli and Khan! You’re my new best friends! My house is the brown one, two-eight-six-oh.” Joey gave Eli a hug around the legs, and then quickly turned and ran off at top speed, the orange Renn Faire flyer clutched in his fist. The dog bounded at his side, little tail whipping happily.
“Impressive,” Khan commented while staring after the boy and his dog. “You have to admire his technique. Do you think I can bump up today’s fees by hugging people and saying they’re my new best friends?”
“Did that just happen? Am I taking Joey to a Renn Faire on Sunday?”