"Though it has been a long time since my last confession, I'd like to believe that your good manners will keep this conversation between us."
"Of course," John said, his smile slowly fading.
"Jack and Maggie contacted me because they believe that someone convinced their son, Robby, that ghosts exists. Robby now believes that there is a ghost visiting him. As I'm sure you can imagine, his parents are very concerned."
"And if Jack and Maggie suspect that someone convinced Robby about the existence of ghosts, and you've come to visit with me, am I to assume that they think that I had something to do with this?" John's hands were clasped together and resting against his chin. As he listened to Derek, John slowly bounced his hands against his chin. Slowly, rhythmically.
"They gave me three names and asked that I speak with each person to find out if I believe any of them may be behind the whole ghost thing with Robby," Derek said. "I want you to understand that they don't think you did anything to harm Robby."
"I should hope not," John said, his voice calm.
"I think the only reason they suggested I speak with you is because of what you teach in church and in Sunday school."
"I don't make it a habit of speaking about ghosts, Derek. I don't fully understand their concerns."
Derek crossed his legs and began rubbing his chin as he tried to figure out what to say next.
"Not sure how to put this, but Jack Bryant believes that since you talk about Jesus rising from the dead and the Holy Ghost that you may have had other 'ghostly' conversations."
"Derek," John said, "the Catholic Church doesn't have a very solid and easy-to-follow catechism on ghosts. Some in the church believe that spirits that haunt are demons. Others, like myself, believe that ghosts are a product of our imaginations. I should tell you that after I completed seminary school in Baltimore, my diocese asked me if I would consider continuing my education and earn my doctorate in psychology."
"So you're a psychologist and a priest? Not a common combination, I'd imagine."
"Not so uncommon, actually. Many dioceses have either a trusted psychologist to work with parish priests or have a priest to fill the role. Believe it or not, Derek, being a priest is a very challenging calling. As much as I love serving as a parish priest, there are days when I wish I wasn't the only psychologist in this diocese."
Derek stirred in his seat before continuing. "Father, I really have no suspicions about you and certainly can't believe that you would ever do anything to harm Robby. And I know that Maggie doesn't suspect you at all. I think the reason I was asked to speak with you is all Jack's insistence. So, while I don't think I can learn anything about what you might have said to Robby to convince him that a ghost is visiting him, I do think that you can help me with this case."
"If helping you also helps Robby, then, please, tell me what I can do."
"One of the people I met with was very interested in what Robby believes his ethereal visitor's name is and told me that I should investigate the name. Not sure what could be so important about the name of the ghost, but can you tell me about anyone that you know named Phillip who may be of interest to me on this case?"
John's hands slowly fell to his lap as his eyes squinted beneath the pulling pressure of his furrowed brow.
"Phillip?" he asked. "Robby said that the ghost that visits him is named 'Phillip?'"
"I take it by your reaction that the name 'Phillip' is a person I should speak with?"
"I don't think you can speak to him, if this 'Phillip' is the same Phillip that I am thinking of."
"Is he dead?" Derek asked.
"He never existed."
CHAPTER NINE
"He never existed?" Derek asked. "I don't follow."
John stood, his hands still clasped together, and gestured to Derek to follow him. They walked down a short hallway, through the rectory's kitchen, then into a small den that was positioned at the far western end of the rectory. Though simply decorated, Derek was impressed with the room.
The walls were covered with deep oak paneling, giving the room a warmth that was only added to by the large, filled bookcases that sat against three of the room's walls. Each bookcase had its four shelves lined with perfectly ordered books.
"Please sit," John said, nodding towards a burgundy leather chair placed against the north wall. As Derek sat, John turned his back and walked closer to one of the bookcases. He stood, one hand on his hip, the other arm raised in a bent position, searching for a particular book. A few seconds later, he pulled a leather-bound book from its home.
"As a psychologist," John said, taking a seat in a matching burgundy leather chair a few feet away from where Derek was seated, "I do a lot of 'secular' reading. Journals, case studies, and the like. This book," he said, raising the three-inch thick book in front of him, "is one that I've referenced several times over the past few years. Essentially, this book provides synopses of nearly 100 psychological tests that have been completed over the last 50 years or so. One study in particular always captured my attention.
"In the early 1970s," John continued after resting the book on his lap, "a team of Canadian psychiatrists conducted a rather interesting study that produced even more interesting results. The team gathered several volunteers and detailed the life and death of a man. They explained the trials and tribulations of this man, though I struggle to recall any of the life-details. I believe they also showed the volunteers pictures and hand-written notes from this man. Once the volunteers had a decent understanding of the man, they were asked to make contact with the man's spirit."
"Like a séance?" Derek asked.
"Exactly like a séance," John answered. "And according to some of the volunteers and even a couple from the team of psychiatrists, the volunteer group did make contact with the spirit. Some reported feeling cold air move through the room. Others said that they were 'touched' by something that wasn't visible. Still others claim that knocking was heard on the séance table."
"But others in the group didn't see or hear anything, I assume?" Derek asked, still wondering how this study had anything to do with his case.
"True, which led people to believe that those who reported some contact were making up their experiences in order to satisfy their perceived expectations of the team of psychologists. However, still to this day, though the experiment is over 40 years old, questions remain about what the test's results truly were."
"And your thoughts on the test?"
"My thoughts don't really matter, Derek. The reason I wanted you to know about this test is not the controversy around the test, its results, or the differing opinions, but something very interesting about the experiment's name."
"And that was?" Derek asked.
"You told me that someone you met with, at the request of the Bryants, suggested that the name of the ghost that Robby believes to be visiting him was a name you should investigate further. Did I understand you correctly?"
"Yes. The man I met with was very vague about his admonition but also was very suggestive that the name, 'Phillip,' was a clue to solving this problem."
"And the man who told you this, is he a psychologist?" The look in John's eyes was intense.
"I don't know what his occupation was."
"May I ask this person's name?"
"I suppose it won't hurt," Derek said. "His name is Ron White. He's a friend of Maggie's and Robby's. He told me that he had a stroke, and since he loved this area, chose to move here for his rehab. He's staying at the nursing home outside of Wells."
"I know Ron quite well," John smiled. "I visit the nursing home twice a week to offer communion and confession to those who are Catholic. Ron is a very interesting gentleman. I didn't know he was friends with Maggie, however."
"Father," Derek said, "sorry to interrupt you, but you were about to tell me why the name of Robby's ghost is important?"
"The person whom the team of psychologists asked the volunteers to make contact with was," John continued, his eyes
softer now, "a fictional character. The team completely made him up. They gave him a history, created details about his life and, as I've said, even produced photographs of someone who the volunteers were told was the man they were asked to contact."
"So the volunteers were attempting to contact the spirit of someone who never existed?" Derek asked.
"Exactly. And according to several involved, contact was made."
"Group hypnosis?"
"Perhaps. Perhaps not. During one of the last séances, reporters from a local newspaper were invited to watch the proceedings. The reporters were not given any insights to the case but were just invited to attend the séance and to report what happened."
"If I were a betting man, I'd bet that the reporters witnessed something," Derek asked.
"Indeed they did. At least, the article that was published in the newspaper the following day suggested that something unexplainable happened during the séance. When the truth behind the experiment was revealed, some of the volunteers were rather angry. They felt they were duped. Others laughed it off and considered that the contacts made with the fictional spirit were all in their head. But others, including the reporters and some of the team of psychologists, believe the experiment suggested something else."
"And that would be?" Derek asked.
"That we create ghosts and spirits, Derek. That our minds are more powerful than we ever imagined. That we actually have the ability to create an entity that exists outside of our imaginations."
"What was the name of the fictional spirit?"
"Phillip. His name was Phillip."
Derek's mind raced to a thousand different end points. "The fact that Ron White made a point of telling me the importance of the name 'Phillip,' and based on the conversation I had with him, I have to suspect that he may have had a lot to do with Robby's issues," Derek stated.
"What about yours and Ron's conversation makes you feel that way?" John asked.
"It was pretty obvious," Derek said, "that Ron White is a firm believer in ghosts. He went on and on about asking me if I've ever experienced a ghostly encounter. Almost seemed like he was trying to convince me that ghosts do exist. But the last thing he said really stands out."
"And that was?"
"He said that ghosts do exist, but that some are more real than others."
"That is an interesting comment and, based on what you've told me, I don't blame you for thinking that he put the idea of ghosts into Robby's mind."
The two men sat in silence for a few minutes. John was recalling as many details of his past conversations with Ron as he could, hoping to remember some comment, some suggestion that Ron had made that would prove to be important in Derek's case. Derek found his thoughts returning to Maggie.
Derek never needed help or incentives to keep focused to whatever case he was working on, but since meeting Maggie, he struggled not to imagine her in his thoughts. There was more to Maggie than just a beautiful woman desperate for answers that would help her son. There was a vulnerability, a silent plea for help that Derek, struggle as he might, could not help but strain to understand.
"Father," Derek said, "I hope I'm not acting like a gossip, but I get the feeling that Maggie and Jack's marriage isn't all that sound. Don't ask me for specifics. It's just a feeling I have."
John drew a deep breath through his nose, then slowly began to nod his head. After a long, thought-filled pause, he said, "Derek, I am not at liberty to discuss the marital conditions of Maggie and Jack Bryant. However, the fact that you went from sharing your suspicions about Ron White directly to your ill feelings about the Bryant's relationship tells me that you may think that, if their marriage is indeed challenged, that Robby is being affected by more than a possible and suspected conversation of two about ghosts."
"I'm no psychologist, Father, but I am pretty good at figuring people out. I like to think that this skill of mine makes me a good detective. The way I am thinking is that if I can pick up on something wrong with Maggie and Jack's marriage, then Robby must be feeling the same thing. Fortunately for me, my parents never really had any marital problems, not that I am aware of at least. But I've been around enough families to know that when mom and dad aren't getting along, the kids tend to act out to get attention or to feel secure. Again, I'm no psychologist, but if what I felt is right and the Bryants are having marital problems, I have to believe that could cause Robby some insecurities."
"Enough insecurities perhaps to cause him to create a ghostly visitor in order to keep his parents together?"
"Maybe," Derek said. "I just don't know. Ron White certainly concerns me, and after learning about the whole 'Phillip Experiment,'" Derek paused and shook his head, "I just don't know what to think. And I have no idea what I can do to help Robby out. I told Maggie and Jack that I would give them two days of my time, but, for the first time in my career, I'm at a complete loss as to how to fill my time with this case."
"In your heart," John asked, leaning forward in his chair, "what are you thinking?"
"Either that there is something that I am missing or that there's nothing more to this case than a kid dealing with his parents' marital problems the only way a kid knows how to."
"Maybe you should spend the rest of your two days looking to see if you are missing something."
"Maybe I should," Derek said. "Just wish I knew where to begin looking."
"I've found that things needing to be found have a way of presenting themselves at the right moment."
CHAPTER TEN
A month before he turned twelve, Robby asked for three birthday presents. The first was a new iPad. Second, a few new games for his Xbox 360. The last thing he asked for was that for parents to pull down the wallpaper in his room, get rid of all the "kiddy" books in his bookcase, and to finally replace his blue race car bed.
"I'll help you take the wallpaper down and will even get all the books in the car so we can take them to the library. I checked on Craigslist, and I think you can sell the race car bed for at least $75. I know the iPad is expensive, but if you take the $75 from the bed sale, the iPad won't be so expensive."
His logic, planning, and willingness to help made his parent's decision simple.
"Okay, Robby," his mother told him. "I'll tell you what. You pick out the paint color for your room, arrange time to drop off your books with the library, and clean up your old race car bed, and your father and I will get you an iPad. Deal? You won't have much of a birthday surprise, you know?"
"I know, but surprises aren't always worth it. I think we have a deal."
He loved his new bed, even though it was only a double bed and not the king-sized he had picked out. Still, it was much bigger than his race car bed and was a bed that he wasn't embarrassed to show if any of his friends came over to his house.
As he sat on his bed, his knees drawn close to his chest and his back pressed firmly to the headboard, he wasn't at all concerned about what his guest may be thinking about his bed. He didn't expect his guest to make any comments about how his room was definitely a "young man's room," and he didn't think that he'd be at all interested in checking out his high score on Flappy Bird or the details he designed in his Minecraft world.
"What did you tell them about me? The detective. What did you tell him about me?"
"Just your name," Robby said. "He asked what you looked like, but I remembered what you told me."
"To never tell anyone what I look like?"
"Yeah, to never tell anyone what you look like."
"Good," his guest said. "Because you know what would happen if people knew what I looked like?"
"You'd have to go away," Robby said, his eyes drawn down with the weight of the responsibility his guest placed on him. "But you told me that lots of people see you, all the time."
"It's different with other people, Robby."
"Why? How is it different?"
"I didn't make up the rules and don't know why they are the way they are. But I do know what will happen if
you tell your parents or that detective what I look like."
"It doesn't make any sense to me," Robby said, not caring if he showed his displeasure.
"It doesn't matter," he said, his voice more stern than before. Louder, too, as if his strength was building. He smiled when he recognized the fact and wondered how much longer it would be until he was strong enough.
"Is your name really Phillip?" Robby asked.
"Why do you ask that?" he answered, careful to keep his voice soft.
"Just that after I told Mr. Cole that your name is Phillip, I heard him asking my parents who else is named Phillip."
"Don't you think he'd do that no matter what my name is?"
"Maybe, but that didn't really answer my question."
"No," Phillip said. "It's not my real name."
"Then what is it?"
"I can't tell you that."
"Why not?"
"Same reason that you can't tell people what I look like." Phillip moved back a step from the end of Robby's bed. "The less you know, the less chance you slip up and make a very bad mistake."
"Are you sure that if I told my mom more about you that you'd have to go away?"
"Do what I told you," he said, his voice much more powerful than he wanted. "Do you really want to send me to that place?" Phillip finished in the whisper-like voice Robby was familiar with.
"I didn't say that I did," Robby said. "It's just that no one likes that you visit me, and now my parents are paying Mr. Cole to find out about you."
"I told you that was why Mr. Cole would be visiting you. But are you saying that he is here to find out about me or to try to convince you that I don't exist?"
"Why else would he be here? He is a detective, and detectives are paid to find stuff out."
"That's why I need him to go away."
"He seems nice to me," Robby said
"He needs to go away."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Those of the Margin: a Paranormal Suspense Thriller (Derek Cole Suspense Thriller Book 2) Page 5