by Ho, Jo
“Sounds good,” she said, keeping her voice natural.
Shooting her a heart-stopping smile that practically melted her, Cassie happily followed Trip as he led the group off campus.
* * *
The green tiled Paifang gate marking the entrance to Chinatown loomed above her.
Cassie stared up in awe at the elegant structure that was flanked by two Imperial Foo Dog statues. Although Cassie had lived in Boston for quite a bit of her life (when they weren’t traveling to New York or the West Coast for her parents’ work), this was her first time in Chinatown.
Eateries with colorful signs flashed blinking lights at her. In their window displays, she could see cakes, dumplings, and all kinds of meat hung on hooks from the ceiling, some which looked kind of terrifying if truth be told. Catching sight of a tray of what had to be chicken feet, she had to suppress a shudder when she suddenly thought of how she had eaten snails at some of the city’s top restaurants throughout her life, and the thought of them wasn’t exactly appetizing either, so who was she to judge?
Following the others, she walked past stalls selling gold and jade trinkets, good luck charms, and a chef making something called Dragon Beard Candy which looked like strands of cotton candy that was being hand-pulled. The sights and exotic smells made Cassie’s mouth water, and she decided right then that she would come back with the girls. Who knew, maybe they’d be able to persuade Marley to try some of her culture’s food!
“You coming, Cass?” Trip called out to her.
She’d been so engrossed in the food being prepared before her that she hadn’t noticed that the others had walked into a restaurant with a grand red phoenix embossed on the velvet black door. This establishment was much more exclusive than the other places they had passed by so far. In fact, it felt like one of the restaurants her own parents would frequent. Trip held open the door, waiting for her. Cassie found herself hurrying to meet him even though she wasn’t sure what they were doing there as they had all eaten not too long ago.
Not wanting to be the only one to question their visit though, Cassie followed as Trip led her through the busy room full of diners — many of them dressed in suits. It seemed this was a favorite of the businessmen in the area. She wove through the sea of red covered tables until she arrived at a round one where the others already sat.
A Chinese girl as thin as a blade of grass whose delicate features made Cassie feel clumsy and giant by comparison arrived with two pots of steaming tea that she placed onto the rotating glass turntable that sat on their table. Smiling at the group, she handed out several menus.
“I give you minute for menu,” she said with a heavy accent to her voice.
Trip cupped his ear as if he couldn’t hear her. “What’s that? I didn’t understand?”
Cassie grew momentarily confused as it was very clear to her what their waitress had said. Unperturbed, however, their waitress bowed her head in apology and tried again.
“Sorry. I say I give you minute for menu.”
“Just one minute, that’s all we get?” Trip asked, frowning as if he were actually not understanding her. A niggling doubt of unease fluttered at the pit of Cassie’s stomach as she watched the poor girl try to explain herself.
“No, you have more minutes,” she finally spluttered, a flush spreading over her neck.
“Trip, stop being mean,” a girl with curly brown hair and hipster glasses said. “She probably only just got into the country.”
Though her words seemed innocent enough, Cassie caught the snide edge in which she had said them and it made her want to sink lower into her seat. Their waitress blinked, turning away to give them more time to decide when Trip stopped her from leaving.
“Where are you going? We know what we’d like to have.”
“Oh,” was all their waitress managed. She opened a small white notepad and waited, a pen gripped in her hand.
“We’re just here for Dim Sum. We’ll take two of each thing on the menu,” he instructed in a lazy tone.
The waitress blinked, not sure that she heard him correctly.
“Two each?” she asked, needing to clarify.
Trip nodded, even as Cassie felt her eyes grow round. There must have been forty items on the menu - how on Earth were they going to eat all of that straight after lunch?
“Correct,” Trip replied, seemingly confident in their ability to finish off the order.
Nodding, their waitress left leaving Cassie to face Trip. “I don’t understand. We just ate lunch back at school, how can you all be hungry again?”
Trip winked at her, grinning from ear to ear. “Don’t worry about it. We do this all the time.”
He hadn’t really answered her question, yet Cassie didn’t want to be a heel, especially as this was apparently normal behavior for them. Leaning back into her seat, she poured some of the tea into a china cup and sipped from it, letting the hot liquid soothe her mind.
Trip regaled the group with story after story of his sporting feats. Being the college quarterback was a big deal for him, and it was something that afforded him a celebrity-like status. Cassie could see it in the adoring faces around him — it was much like this for her mom and dad too. Finding herself blocking out the noise, Cassie took in the plush red interior of the restaurant. Calming music played from speakers set discreetly in every corner of the oval room. The place was so packed that there was only one man who sat alone, and he was half-hidden behind a tall Cheese plant. Cassie marveled at how popular this place was and made a note to bring her parents here when she next saw them, knowing they would get a kick out of discovering somewhere new. She sat there, taking in the ambiance just enjoying this moment of inclusiveness and hoping that there would be much more to come.
Laughter sounded, jolting her from her reverie. One of Trip’s friends was scrolling through Tinder. “This one… maybe… if she wore a bag over her head,” he said, as Trip grinned at him. He continued perusing the offerings. “Jesus, I’d be buried alive under this one, no thank you.” He swiped again. “OK, we’ve clearly got to the retard section. This chick is cross-eyed.”
Trip laughed, finding the whole thing hilarious while Cassie sat uncomfortably, her hands in her lap. Of all people, she knew what it was like to be physically challenged, and this was not a conversation she felt comfortable listening to.
Luckily, their waitress returned at that moment with two helpers, each carrying several trays of steaming bamboo bowls filled with small dumplings of seemingly every kind. There were ones in a translucent wrapper of some kind, others that were deep fried and served with tiny dishes of savory sauces. Then there were the individual steamed buns with barbecue meat filling inside. Everything smelled so good that Cassie found her mouth watering despite not being in the least hungry.
The food was set onto the turntable and they were left alone to feast. Cassie reached for her pair of chopsticks, slipping them out of their paper sheath; she’d had enough practice eating sushi that she was an expert with them. Trip though, not so much. Not bothering to use the forks their waitress had thoughtfully left out for them, he grabbed several dumplings with his fingers, dumping them onto his plate. Then, picking them up one-by-one, he tore open the dumplings spilling their fillings onto the plate.
Frowning, not understanding what was happening, Cassie’s chopsticks froze halfway to one of those glossy steamed buns as she watched the others imitate Trip.
“What are you doing?” she finally asked.
Grinning, one of Trip’s friends, a fellow teammate whose name was Louis, spread a napkin over his lap, then reached below it. Moments later he tossed something onto his plate of food. It was so small, so thin and hard to distinguish under the food that she almost missed it. Shocked, she said nothing as Trip suddenly started retching, pointing to the plate.
“Is that what I think it is?” he asked no one in particular, his brows raised almost comically high in his fake outrage. “I can’t believe what I’m seeing.”
&nb
sp; “That’s disgusting,” one of the other girls, a curvy blonde with neat bangs and blue polished nails said, right on cue.
“How can they sell food when it’s clearly unsanitary in here?” piped up another.
By now, it was growing increasingly clear what they were trying to do, and Cassie felt a little sickened by it. She wanted to say something, to stop what she knew would happen, but the words stuck in her throat. All she could do was watch as their concerned waitress hurried over.
“You have problem?” she asked, clasping her hands before her.
Trip pointed down at his plate. “What does that look like to you?”
Their waitress leaned in closer for a better look. Unable to see what he referred to, she wrung her hands in confusion until Trip picked up his still-wrapped chopsticks and pointed to a short, fat piece of black hair.
“That is a pubic hair if I’ve ever seen one! Look at it. It could only have come from one of you.”
The waitress’s eyes were almost as wide as Cassie’s as she took in the group to see that none of them had dark hair so it couldn’t possibly be theirs. Horrified, yet lacking the language to convey her thoughts, she bowed several times in apology. “One minute,” she pleaded, hurrying away to speak with a smart Chinese man in a gray suit. She gestured frantically to their table, speaking fast. Within moments, he was at their table.
“My waitress has explained what the issue is here, but I am certain that this is not of our doing. We run a very hygienic establishment,” the man who must have been the manager said quietly but firmly.
Trip looked at him, affronted. “So you’re saying we did this?”
“Of course not,” the manager immediately replied. “I am merely stating that it was not of our doing. I don’t have any staff who would do such a thing.”
It didn’t seem like he was backing down. His intelligent brown eyes took in the group. When his gaze found Cassie’s, she had to look away, worried that he would be able to read the truth in her eyes.
“Well, I take offense at your accusation. I have plenty of money and don’t need to do such a cheap trick to get a free meal, which, as you can see, we have barely touched.” Trip threw down his napkin to emphasize his point. As if he had given the others a silent command, they pushed back their chairs and stood up. “Saying that, however, I am not going to pay for a meal that is clearly unsanitary and I’m sure the rest of your customers wouldn’t want to either.” His voice rose, drawing the attention of nearby diners, who frowned their way.
The manager raised both palms, lowering his voice. “You have very clearly stated your opinion. Since I obviously cannot change it, can you please leave my restaurant? I will take care of the bill so there is nothing to pay. I would just like you to leave quietly so you don’t disturb any more of my customers.”
Cassie shot up to her feet, mortified for him. Why was Trip doing this?
“Oh, I can’t get out of here fast enough,” Trip said, already heading towards the exit. The rest of the group followed, leaving Cassie at the end of the line. She took a step towards them, but stopped, quickly shooting the manager an apologetic look.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled before taking after the others.
Hurrying outside, she found the others doubled up in a heap, laughing until tears ran down their faces, Trip the loudest of them all. “No matter how many times, it never gets old.”
Hearing his comment, Cassie felt cold. They did this to these poor restaurants all the time? Before she could say anything, Trip slung his arm her shoulder and squeezed it.
“You’re alright, Cassie, you know. Some girls are stupid and freak out, but you, you’re cool. You rolled with the punches. I dig that.”
Cassie smiled back at him, shoving the uncomfortable feeling in her stomach away, allowing herself to just bask in his glory.
It was only a joke after all. It wasn’t like there was any damage done to the place and they could obviously afford it. Thrilled by the sensation of his arm around her, Cassie allowed Trip to steer her to their next entertainment, whatever that might be.
* * *
Sipping from his own cup of tea, Michael watched Cassie from his table behind the plant, having purposely asked to be seated there so he would be out of sight.
He watched as the doubt that had been on Cassie’s face was suddenly washed away, erased by the stupid boy’s arm. This girl was so desperate for his attention that she ignored how she really felt. He found it funny how people always ignored the truth before their eyes if it was something they do not want to see.
Luckily for him, he now knew a way into her life.
And it wouldn’t be any bother at all.
Drumming his fingers on the table, he smiled to himself. Unlike these youngsters, patience was a virtue of his. As long as the end game was in sight, Michael would bide his time.
And when he finally struck, these girls wouldn’t know what had hit them.
Chapter 14
Marley moved around the house, trying to see what she could pick up.
She was actually hoping that she might just come across the ghost if there was one here — and it certainly sounded like there was. Normally, she would know the name of the person at least, but the couple here had no idea who their predecessor had been.
She stood in what was being used as Junior’s room. His tiny bed sat next to the window, still fully made-up despite those suitcases outside. A row of soft toys was propped up neatly by the pillow, arranged in such a way that it seemed their heads were resting on it. The wall was a calming green and the silhouette of birds had been painstakingly hand-stenciled as a border at waist height.
Whatever was going on, it was clear that Junior was loved.
With the parents watching her from the hallway outside, Marley walked around, trying to get a sense of something, anything. Though she felt a cold that had nothing to do with the temperature pierce her bones, she could not feel anything. Casting a sidelong glance at Christian, who was also examining the room, she spoke under her breath. “I’m not getting anything.”
He frowned at her. “OK. Try researching this house to see if anything violent ever happened here. There’s usually a direct link to violence and poltergeist activity.”
Taking out her phone — in full view of Chris and Gloria, she Googled the address of the house. Hits flooded the screen, mostly other houses that were currently being offered on the market. She scrolled almost all the way to the bottom of the page before a headline jumped out at her.
Lonely, elderly man commits suicide in his house.
The house in the picture beneath the headline was this very house. Beside it, there was a headshot of the smiling man, before he became the recluse this article described. His bald head was littered with age spots, and though he was dressed impeccably in a smart brown suit, there was a sadness that came off of him in waves. She showed her phone to the others. “I’ve found something.”
They came into the room, peering over her shoulder, both looking disappointed when they saw what it was.
“We know about that of course. Looked it up on the internet ourselves, but he can’t be our ghost.”
“Why not?” Marley asked, confusion making her brow crease.
“He did kill himself, but it was relatively peacefully, with pills. We just figured he was lonely like the article says. Our ghost doesn’t match with the man mentioned in there. Our ghost is furious. He hates us,” Gloria blurted out. Seeing his wife’s distress, Chris put his arm around her shoulders offering what small comfort he could.
“Well, this the only lead I have right now. So, I guess I’ll have to try to summon his spirit to see if it is him,” Marley said.
“At least I have a name now… Daniel Leonard.“
* * *
Moments later, Marley was alone in the room. Well, alone with the exclusion of Christian who no one else could see. He stood beside her, waiting, hands clasped tightly down by his sides. Marley could see he was nervous about what m
ight happen.
If she was honest, so was she.
Chris and Gloria waited outside in the corridor, a safe distance away. Marley hadn’t been able to convince them to move into another room. She hoped they would be safe where they were. Closing her eyes, she felt herself sinking into the black veil, that world where spirits resided. Holding his face firmly in her mind, Marley called out.
“Daniel… Daniel Leonard… come forward please.”
Shapes flitted past the edges of her vision, other spirits perhaps, moving out of her way as she traveled through the black mist of this world. She knew her real body was still standing in Junior’s room, but her, her own spirit maybe was flying past in its search for Daniel.
Soaring past a group of hazy figures, Marley suddenly felt herself inexplicable drawn backward. Retracing her path, she stopped by the figures as they moved away to reveal the elderly man behind them. He looked as he had in the picture in the news article, though his suit seemed to move around him as if it had a life of its own.
“Daniel?” She asked.
“Who the hell are you and what do you want?” he demanded in a voice that was nothing at all how she imagined. There was that fury, that rage that the new owners of the house had warned against.
Despite knowing that her body was safe in the mortal plain, Marley found herself backing up. “I came to help you. I came to find out what it is that is causing you so much distress.”
“And why would you care?” he snarled, spittle flying out of his mouth.
“That’s a nice family you’re scaring, Daniel, and it isn’t fair. They haven’t done anything wrong,” Marley replied, hoping that by taking a stronger tone, he wouldn’t see how scared she really was. There wasn’t a handbook for these things, as such, she was completely winging it.