Disconnect - A Short Ghost Story

by John Gaffield

Disconnect

  John T. Gaffield

  Published by John T. Gaffield at Amazon.com

  Copyright 2013 John T. Gaffield

  First Edition

  ###

  After opening the door to the cottage, Will stepped inside and turned on the light above the entrance. He was drained from the three hour trip after leaving work late that Friday evening. The air inside the hallway was musty from not being used since the prior summer. He set his suitcase and briefcase down as he closed the front door. Wanting to call Dave back, he planned on getting the food and other items out of the car later.

  After removing his planner from his briefcase, he called Dave.

  “Hello Will, what’s up?” Dave answered.

  “Saw that you called, Dave. What’s going on?” Will replied.

  “Oh I wanted to let you know that the program team wants that quote for the changing that brake line clip to make it hold the lines tighter,” Dave said.

  “Have we received the quote from Barron Fasteners yet?” Will asked.

  “Of course not and they say they won’t have anything until the end of next week,” Dave answered.

  “Typical for them. Do we have an estimate we can use for the change?” Will asked.

  “We can use similar ones, like around $0.25 for the clip and around $50,000 for the tooling,” Dave suggested.

  “Well as long as it won’t be any higher, go with it. Just call it an engineering estimate,” Will recommended.

  “Will do. Thanks, Will. Just relax now. I’ll just leave messages if anything comes up,” Dave said.

  “Okay, take care Dave. Bye,” Will said.

  “Bye, Will,” Dave said.

  Will hung up and put the phone back into his pocket. He was ready to finish unpacking and then get to bed. He was just tired.

  A buzzing sound awakened Will. The room was dark, except for the light from the flashing smart phone on the bedside table. He rolled over and picked up the phone.

  “Yeah?” he answered slowly.

  “Wow Will, I thought you would have this off since you’re on vacation. I was just going to leave you a message,” the other person commented.

  “Well, I know there is a lot happening now. So I am staying involved. What’s up, Greg?” Will asked.

  “Just wanted to let you know that Down River Assembly called and they have a shipment of the brake line brackets where the holes aren’t aligning to the body,” Greg said.

  “Damn, which bracket is this?” Will asked.

  “The B level one in front of the fuel filter,” Greg answered.

  “Do they have the certified stock to keep production going?” Will asked.

  “For a shift or so, but they’ll be out soon,” Greg told him.

  The floor creaked from somewhere in the room, but it did not deter Will from continuing.

  “Let me call the Menson plant and make sure they are lined up to ship brackets overnight or have someone drive them directly to Down River,” Will said.

  “I think Chuck already . . .” Greg started before the phone went silent.

  Will looked at the screen and it said, “Signal Lost” Another creak could be heard from somewhere in the bedroom.

  “Come on, Come on,” Will said as he reached over to turn on the bedside lamp.

  He moved the phone around in an attempt to improve the signal. After about 20 seconds it said Entering Analog Roam.”

  “Finally!” Will stated as he swiped the phone to redial Greg.

  “Hey, Greg. Sorry about that. Signal sucks here. What were you saying about Chuck?” Will asked.

  “I think that Chuck already called Menson, but I’m not sure what the plans are. So if you want to call it can’t hurt. Thanks,” Greg replied.

  “Okay, I’ll give them a call,” Will said.

  “Well, enjoy the vacation, Will,” Greg said.

  “Yeah, I’ll talk with you later. Thanks,” Will said just before he hung up the phone.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, Will used the phone to search for his Menson plant contact. Just when he was ready to dial a message came onto the screen saying “Signal Lost.”

  “Not again!” he said in a frustrated tone.

  As he started moving the phone around again, the bedside lamp went out. The sound of the air flowing into the room from the air conditioner went silent. He looked up toward the bedroom window overlooking Lake Michigan. It was the only source of light in the room, besides his phone. There was a deep moan from the floor that came from behind him. Puzzled, he spun his head around toward the sound.

  “Is anyone in here?” he asked aloud.

  No one answered. After staring into the back of the room for about twenty seconds and hearing nothing, he felt a little foolish. The light flashed back on and the air conditioner restarted. As he turned his head back to the phone in his hand, his eyes caught what appeared to be a shadow quickly moving out of view. He looked back at the spot, but did not see the shadow again. Confused, he just looked at his phone again. It was still reading “Signal Lost.” Wanting to follow up with the Menson plant, he put the smart phone on the bedside table and stood up to retrieve the cordless phone from the dresser. With the cordless phone in his hand, he dialed the contact he had for the Menson plant.

  “Hello, this is Grant,” someone answered.

  “Hello Grant, this is Will Besser. I heard you guys had some bracket issues at the Down River Plant tonight,” Will said.

  “Well yeah, but I think we have things under control here now,” Grant said.

  “So when will you have certified brackets to the plant?” Will asked.

  “Making them now and they’ll ship out tomorrow,” Grant replied.

  “When will they arrive at Down River?” Will asked with his voice raised slightly.

  “The Truck will pick them up about 10 am tomorrow,” Grant answered.

  “That’ll be too late, can you ship . . .” Will started to say before the power went out again.

  The cordless phone as well as the rest of the room was dark.

  “Damn it!” he said to himself.

  Wanting to continue the conversation, he slowly made his way back to the bedside table through the darkened room. Using his hand he fumbled for his smart phone again. After activating the screen, he saw that it was now reading “Battery Low – Please Charge.”

  “Great, now what?” he said as he set the phone back on the table.

  “How can I coordinate getting the certified brackets to the plant now?” he thought to himself. Puzzled, he sat on the edge of the bed and stared out of the large window overlooking the lake. He could see the lake was mostly calm, but he could hear a muffled sound of the gentle surf through the closed windows. He knew the cottage did not have a generator. For some reason, his late father did not want one and he never thought about it either, since he inherited the cottage about 5 years before.

  He remembered that there was still a corded phone in the kitchen. Even with the power being out, it should work, he thought. Willing to give it a try, he stood up and faced the bedroom door. He stopped when he noticed how dark it was in the hallway without any lights. Slowly shuffling his feet to avoid running into anything, he continued toward the door. Once in the hallway, most of the light from the bedroom window disappeared. There were no windows in the hall. Placing his hand on a wall for some guidance, he slowly made his way toward the kitchen.

  Each of his steps caused a creak in the floor. After he made a step another softer creak could be heard from somewhere behind him. While aware of the sound, he continued feeling his way toward the kitchen. His next step was followed by another creak. Curious, he paused and looked back. The room was dark enou
gh that it was almost disorienting. He could not make out anything either behind or in front of him. After a sigh, he turned forward and started moving again. Even though the trailing creaks were still happening, he did not stop.

  He could make out some light coming from the kitchen windows as he approached the entrance. The kitchen faced the back of the house away from the lake, but there will still some dim light filtering in from the night skies. As he crossed the room to the phone on the counter, the echo from the footsteps continued to follow him. In the faint light, he picked up the phone. Initially, it had a dial tone, but before he could start to dial the supplier’s number, there was a click sound, as if a connection was being made. This was followed by loud static. Something from within the phone began shaking.

  “No!” a loud distorted male voice screamed through the phone.

  The line went silent. Starting to shake, he stared at the receiver. Will then hung up the line briefly and then tried checking it again. It was still quiet.

  “What the hell was that?” he said.

  Confused and frustrated, he placed the receiver back into the base. Since he was not able to follow up with the supplier,