By the time the sun had set into a rain-heavy storm cloud and DD finally drifted up through the glowing white floor tiles, I was cool and collected. Or I could pretend to be, at least. I peeled my eyes open. I wondered where she’d been hiding down there. Did she know about the vent? I didn’t ask, because I didn’t want to be asked how I knew.
“Wow, I’m actually glad to see you,” I said with an exaggerated yawn just as Faye popped into view and dive-bombed us from above.
“Heads,” she shrieked and laughed hysterically.
“The next one will be more manageable,” DD reassured me, dodging to one side as Faye’s head, minus the body, flew by us.
“Look, no head,” the poltergeist shouted.
“Real mature,” DD said, her mouth twisting sarcastically. “Follow me, janitor.”
Leaving Faye playing basketball with her own head, the two of us floated through the wall, dodging concrete-coloured wall molecules on the way.
“You have to watch those ones,” DD warned. “They’re pretty hefty.”
“We’re ghosts. They should go right through us. Ouch!” I rubbed my head where a zipping ball had crashed through my temple.
“They’re energy, just like us,” DD explained. “If they hit us, they hurt us. I don’t have a picture of the next one, but he’ll be pretty hard to miss. Go to the office of Street News, the local paper. You’ll find him there.”
“By the way,” I called to her as she started to go back into the wall. “How am I getting paid?”
DD snorted. “Good one, janitor.”
“No, I’m serious.” But she had already disappeared.
“Don’t expect much from her,” a smooth voice informed me.
I cursed, shooting up to the ceiling as I spun around. When I saw who it was, I eased back down. “Blast it all, Shadow. Can’t you give me some warning before you just pop out of the shadows like that? You know, like tinkle a bell or something.”
Shadow snickered as we floated towards the street. “There’s cow bells and church bells, but no ghost bells, friend. How’s death treating you?”
“I thought I was gonna die again today of boredom. What do you do when the sun’s up?”
“There are dark places where the sun can’t reach,” Shadow murmured, a secretive smile lurking on his face. “That’s where we hang out. I’ll take you in the morning.”
“Sure. That’d be… ah… swell, thanks,” I responded with all the enthusiasm of a wet rag. If those places were anything like the basement’s air vents, I’d pass. Or pass out.
Shadow chuckled again. Somehow he made a happy sound seem a little less happy and a lot more sinister. “You don’t have to worry, my friend. I’ve got you covered. There’s nothing in those places more dangerous than we are.”
“We’re dangerous?” I perked up. “How? And who’s ‘we?’”
But Shadow either didn’t hear, pretended not to hear, or declined to answer. It was hard to tell as I couldn’t see him clearly in the dark hallway.
“Okay,” Shadow said as we exited the building. “Let’s fly.”
“Yeah, sure, let’s do… Whoa.” I looked around, mouth agape. “Where’d that spook go to now?”
“Here.”
This time, there was no ceiling and I jumped to the level of the second floor windows.
“Were you always this jumpy?” Shadow asked, his teeth flashing through the snicker.
“Nope. Only since I died and met you.”
Shadow stuck his hands in his blazer pockets and rocked back on his heels. “I’m going to hazard a guess that you don’t know how to fly.”
“Good guess,” I snapped.
“It’s easy enough. You just have to let go…”
“Is this one of those façade things again?” I interrupted, my fists clenched.
Shadow’s dark eyebrows twitched slightly. “No-o-o. This is one of those ‘let go of the ground’ things. Push upwards. Pretend I just appeared out of nowhere again.”
“Hmmm.” I muttered a few other words under my breath, but figured that for now, this creepy dude was the closest thing I had to a ghost friend, so I kept those words very quiet.
“Swim up a bit higher. Now get into the Superman position.”
“Are you being rude?” I demanded.
“Thanks, but no. Go horizontal. Pretend you have a red cape on and you’re heading off to save some beautiful damsel who’s falling out of a tenth floor window.”
“If a damsel’s falling outta a tenth floor window,” I retorted, “it’s probably because she wants to fall out and might not be too happy about me saving her.”
“Pretend someone pushed her out.”
I shook my head. “If she’s beautiful, she’s gonna want a movie star Superman saving her, not some ghost janitor.”
Shadow pursed his lips. “Stop being so damn difficult. Get into the pose and pretend you’re the hero.”
“Yeah, like that’s gonna happen.” Still grumbling, I stretched out horizontal and craned my neck so I could see straight ahead.
“Perfect.” Shadow gave two thumbs up. “More or less. I mean, technically, you don’t have to have your arms out ahead of you like that. No, they shouldn’t be flopping down like cooked noodles either. By your side. That’s it. Now, focus on moving forward without moving your limbs.”
I frowned in concentration.
“Relax a bit… Not that much. Somewhere in between. That’s… a start.”
“My granny with her walker goes faster than this,” I grumbled as I slowly floated parallel to the road but a few stories up.
“My granny in her coffin goes faster than this,” Shadow said. “You’ll get better with practice. Good thing we’re not going far.”
“Hm.”
Several blocks later, I sank down to the ground with relief. I stretched my arms and rolled my shoulders, even though I couldn’t actually feel stiffness. I did want to feel normal and floating along like Superman on an extra dose of Valium was not normal.
“We’re here,” Shadow breathed out, equally relieved.
A five-story, block-long building squatted before us. It must’ve been designed to win some obscure ‘Ugliest Building on the Face of the Planet’ award. It was a looming chunk of concrete with the occasional window hidden away in a deep, dark recess. There was no attempt to beautify or soften the straight, sharp lines. On the plus side, it didn’t give visitors the false expectation that anyone friendly might be waiting inside with a welcoming smile.
I veered for the door; I didn’t want another encounter with a concrete molecule. The door was hardly any better: a thick slab of metal with a small porthole in it. A narrow sign, the only spark of colour, was pasted above the porthole, announcing in bright red letters ‘By appointment only.’
“You’d think they were guarding the gold reserve in there,” I commented.
“These people take their work seriously,” Shadow responded, nodding his head with approval.
“Oh, please,” I scoffed. “They’re a local newspaper. They cover garden shows and pet parades and Bingo nights at the Senior Centre.”
“Even still…”
We were about to push inside the door when a big ghost popped up in front of us. Now, when I say big, imagine you’re a bicycle. Yes, a bicycle. You reach an intersection. The light’s green for you to cross, so you start crossing. You’re halfway through when a double decker bus runs the red light, turning you into an oil stain on the tarmac, splatting a couple cars in the process.
That’s how Shadow and I felt: we were the bicycles staring up at the rapidly approaching double decker.
Yup. That big.
And he wasn’t just big. He was fully loaded with every muscle known to medical science, and a few that aren’t. His bulging arms, which were folded over a massive chest, had wrists as thick around as my neck and the limbs just got bigger from that point onward. Even Shadow had to crane his neck backwards to see the guy’s face and it wasn’t a very encouraging si
ght. His head resembled a block of concrete, but not as pretty. His small eyes glared down at us.
I mean, this hulk made the building seem like a fairy tale castle.
“Ah… Hi there,” I said, forcing cheer into my voice; it came out as a rather squeaky attempt at cheerfulness. I had to remind myself that I was already dead and this guy couldn’t beat me up or anything like that. I didn’t feel reassured.
Shadow waved and mentioned in a friendly voice, “Wow, you must have been every buffet restaurant’s nightmare.”
“He’s kinda my nightmare too,” I said, a smile plastered grimly on my face.
“No, he couldn’t be,” Shadow said in a silky tone. “I bet he’s really friendly. Aren’t you, big buddy? Eh?”
The hulk grunted.
“I’m looking for a new spook,” I said and then cleared my throat. “I mean, new in that he was just born, or his body just died. You know what I mean. You seen him around?”
“NO.” The voice rumbled in pretty much the same way that the contents of a concrete mixer rumble inside the mixer, and about as loud.
“We heard he just died—he died here—his ghost is somewhere in this building.” I jabbed a finger towards the newspaper’s building.
“NO.”
I pulled back my shoulders slightly and scratched my chin. My fingers tingled against the stubble. The tingle reminded me of the vent. I lowered my arms, flexed my fingers and took a step towards the ghost blocking his path. “He worked here as a reporter. Just died, in this very building. His ghost is lurking around. How could you NOT know him?”
The hulk said nothing, just stood his ground and glared down at us two tiny ghosts in front of him.
“Oh, forget it.” I turned to Shadow. “There must be another way in.”
“Why do you care so much? You’re not even being paid,” Shadow pointed out.
I hesitated before answering. “Not sure. Guess I’ve nothing else to do. And DD promised to help me. You know, before I lose my memory. Let’s just fly up and go through a window. He can’t keep us out.”
“Well, actually…” He glanced up to the giant who was watching us. “He might be able to, depending on a few factors.”
“Such as?”
Still watching the guard, he said, “Let’s just say he could have developed ways to make us feel his fists.”
“Ghosts can do that?”
“Some can.”
That was an interesting bit of information, although not very reassuring in this context. I should’ve just floated away and tried to sneak in through the back. I wasn’t in a sneaky mood, though. I was in a foul one. I twirled around and rose up so I could stare into the giant ghost’s piggy eyes without craning back my neck.
“I’m going in. Don’t try to stop me or…” I glanced around for inspiration. “I’ll have to do something that we’ll both regret. Probably me more than you.”
The hulk stared at me, possibly considering how best to pulverise me into microscopic bits of dust.
“That’s it. You’re dead,” Shadow said, shrugging his shoulders.
I stared at the ghost guard with my best Popeye glare. “Sure am. Hey, he isn’t even wearing a guard’s uniform.” I gestured to the light grey pants and dark grey T-shirt. “He doesn’t have any business stopping us. I bet you’re not even a real guard.”
The giant’s face shifted from an ugly block of concrete to an ugly block of a water fountain. He sniffed and snivelled and giant tears began to leak out of those squinty, piggy eyes. The guard began to blubber, “I WANT TO BE A REAL GUARD.” He really began bawling.
“Aw-kward,” Shadow muttered quietly.
“Yeah, I’ll say,” I said, wondering if I should feel bad or just embarrassed. “Ah… hey, big guy. Can you not do that? I didn’t really mean it.”
“Sure you did,” Shadow interjected quickly and smiled up at me.
“What I mean is, you may not be a real guard…”
The crying went from storm to monsoon level; a puddle of ghost tears formed around us.
“You’re better than a real guard,” I continued quickly, sinking towards the ground. “You’re standing guard because you want to.”
Shadow snorted with supressed laughter. “That’s so sappy.”
“Shut up. What’s your name?”
The huge ghost, whose intimidation factor had plummeted to lower than basement level, sniffed loudly, wiped his nose once on each sleeve and mumbled, “TIMMY.”
[Editor’s note: By now, you may be wondering if the ‘Caps Lock’ button accidently gets pressed every time Timmy speaks. The answer is no. It is purposefully pressed. Since everything about Timmy is big, I figured his words should be too. Lee thinks it’s distracting, but Lee is a janitor, not a writer.]
Shadow leaned towards me and murmured, “Did he just say his name is Timmy?”
“Yup. Sure did.”
Shadow straightened up and tugged at the lapels of his black blazer. He blinked his eyes several times and coughed, his mouth shifting between a grin and a straight line. “Oookay then. Just checking.”
“Well, Timmy,” I said, craning my neck, “we could sure use your help finding our new ghost.”
Shadow looked at me incredulously. “No, we couldn’t. We don’t…”
“Sure, we could,” I insisted. “Come on, Timmy. You know where he is, don’t you?”
Timmy smiled shyly, revealing a dentist’s nightmare of rotting teeth. “YES. INSIDE.”
“No kidding,” Shadow muttered.
Timmy led us into the building, which was as bleak and unwelcoming as the outside, only darker.
“No wonder he died in here,” I observed in a hushed voice. “It’s incredible he didn’t die sooner.”
“HERE,” Timmy announced and pointed at the opening of a walk-in cupboard.
“Looks like a crypt,” Shadow said, his eyes bright with anticipation as he studied the cupboard. “A really small crypt.”
“Must be his office. I don’t think crypts normally have a desk, do they?” I asked as I peered into the narrow, windowless space.
“No, not normally,” Shadow acknowledged. “But some of the older Egyptian ones have murdered slaves, chariots and treasure. You don’t see any treasure in there, do you?”
“Nope. No dead slaves either.”
“Pity.” He sighed.
“Just a tiny desk with a dusty box on it.”
“That dusty box would be a computer,” Shadow said with a smirk as we both entered. Timmy watched us eagerly from the hallway. “A very old computer. Check out that sac in the corner. It’s huge. Go see what’s in there. Maybe there’s something worth keeping.”
I rolled my eyes. “This isn’t an Egyptian crypt and I’m pretty sure there isn’t any treasure here.” I bent forward toward the sac slouched against the far wall. It was huge, coming up to my waist and bulging out in all directions. “Maybe it’s just a bag of laundry.”
Shadow slid into a seating position on the desk. His lower half sunk into the surface briefly, before he rose up and floated just above it. “That’s a lot of laundry there, janitor. My whole wardrobe could fit in it.”
“Your whole wardrobe is one outfit, Shadow.”
“I mean before. Before this gig…”
“You mean death.”
“Right.” Shadow frowned at me. “Before this, I had a whole closet of clothes, and they could all easily fit in that bag.”
“Why would a reporter have a bag with a closet full of clothes in his office?” I asked sceptically, an eyebrow rising up.
“Why wouldn’t he? If he actually sat in this coffin and worked here, anything is possible.”
“REPORTER,” Timmy eagerly interrupted in his gravelly voice, pointing a fist-sized finger into the office.
“Yes. That’s right, Timmy,” Shadow said very slowly. “We. Are. Looking. For. The. Ree. Poor. Ter.”
“REPORTER,” Timmy repeated, the block that passed for his head moving ponderously up and do
wn.
“This isn’t helping,” I grumbled as I stood upright.
The sac lurched towards me.
Before I fully registered what had happened, my head was stuck inside the ceiling. A concrete molecule of energy enthusiastically smacked me between the eyes. “Blast it all!” I hollered and another one rammed into my mouth. Fortunately, my teeth couldn’t break, but by the time I’d extracted my head from the ceiling, I was uttering unrepeatable curses.
“That settles it then,” Shadow mused. “You were right, Axe. It’s not a bag of loot. And it’s definitely not a sac of laundry or murdered slaves.”
“No joke. So if it’s not treasure or clothes, what is that thing?” I muttered, rubbing my face gingerly.
A smile slowly crept across Shadow’s face. “That thing is your new recruit.”
“You must be joking.”
“No. Not really. Not even close. That’s… him. Or her. Or possibly it. Ick.”
“This is the reporter?” I demanded, jabbing a finger towards the quivering mass that a moment ago had either been a sac of treasure or a bag of dirty clothes.
“YES,” Timmy confirmed, a big ugly smile cracking across his face.
“Yikes.” Shadow whistled and then rubbed his hands, as if getting down to business. “They come in all shapes and sizes, don’t they?”
“You have a name?” I demanded, trying to find a set of eyes to look into, without any luck.
It answered me but either I wasn’t listening or I was too focused on its strange body.
“Blob?” I repeated. My eyebrows rose up. “Your name is Blob?”
“BOB, NOT BLOB,” Timmy corrected sternly. Timmy being stern was scary enough to correct anyone’s mispronunciation.
“Bob,” I repeated. “Its… uh, his name is Bob?”
“Be nice. Not everyone can have cool names like us, Axe,” Shadow said.
“Good point.”
At that moment, the thing formerly known as ‘laundry bag’ and now referred to as ‘Bob’ began to ooze towards the exit with all the speed and grace of a large lump of translucent grey Jell-O. Timmy backed away and I jumped aside and watched as Bob paused in the hallway.
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