by Rick Suttle
“We were glad we could help.”
“The school has agreed to donate three hundred dollars for your services. I’ll have a check in the mail by the end of the week.”
“That’s very generous.”
I stood and tapped Mike and Sarah on their shoulders. They both awakened with sleepy eyes and red imprint marks on their faces. They looked up at Joyce. I placed my hands in my pockets, not knowing how to break the bad news to Joyce. I finally just came out with it.
“There was some damage,” I said.
“Really? How much?”
“Ceiling tiles were broken . . . and drywall was busted in the back annex corridor.”
Joyce sighed. “Spirits again?” I nodded. “Okay. I’ll let the construction workers know. They’re here now.”
I wasn’t surprised that Joyce allowed the men to work today. The foreman had raised a big stink about the delay last Monday. And I wasn’t surprised when several of the construction workers glared at us on the way out of the school. Some were just entering with equipment. They had already seen the mess in the annex area.
I turned my head rather than watch the men who were reentering the building eye me as they walked down the hallway. Sarah stuck her tongue out at them. It was good to see that she was back to her old self.
Joyce walked us out to my Cherokee. Just before Sarah got in the Jeep, she turned and said, “I’d recommend that you sprinkle some salt water throughout the annex and basement, including the stairwell.”
“Why?”
“Just to be safe,” said Sarah. “Evil spirits can sometimes return.”
“Oh, dear. I hope not.”
“Just to be safe,” said Sarah, before she climbed into the back seat.
“I’ll get Bill to do it,” she told me. I had my doubts about that.
I sat on the edge of my bed Monday night with my cell phone in my hand. I had just dialed Cindy Marshall’s phone number—the girl from my class. I was nervous but I’d just survived a night with ghosts and a demon. I could certainly handle asking a girl out.
“Hello,” she said, answering on the second ring.
“Cindy.”
“That’s me. Who’s this?”
“It’s Dylan McCauliffe.”
“Oh, hi, Dylan. How’s your summer going so far?
“Great,” I said. “I haven’t found a job yet, but it’s going well.”
“That’s good. What’s up?”
“I was just wondering if you’d like to go out this weekend or next.”
“I have to work this weekend, but I’m off next Saturday.”
“So, you want to go out?”
“Yeah, silly.” She laughed. I then let a night’s worth of frustration loose and started laughing. Soon, I was laughing so hard I almost wet my pants.
We talked for more than an hour. We decided on dinner and a movie before we hung up. A bunch of flicks were showing over at Cinemark in Western Hills. But I didn’t want to see anything with ghosts or monsters in it.
I saw Mike talking to Sarah in her room just before eleven. Sarah had just brushed her teeth and was climbing into bed.
“Just so we’re clear, let’s keep the Joseph thing on the down low.”
“Yeah, dad doesn’t need to know about it,” said Sarah.
I felt guilty for not telling my dad about the demon, but he’d probably ban us from future investigations if he knew. Mike left the room as Sarah pulled her covers up.
“Thanks for your help on this, sis.’”
“You’re welcome, big bro.’”
“I . . .”
“Dylan.”
“Yeah.”
“Turn off the light on your way out.”
I chuckled as I walked into the hallway. My dad was just heading to bed. He’d been in meetings and on hospitals visits most of the night.
“How did your investigation go?” He eyed me with intensity—as always.
“Great!”
“Did you get rid of all the spirits?”
“Yes, sir.” He patted me on the shoulder and walked to his bedroom.
I walked back to my room, stripped out of my clothes and put on my sleeping shorts. I thought about the investigation and then realized I’d forgotten to check my emails.
I turned my laptop on. I had forty-two emails waiting. Half of them were from vendors, and most of the remaining ones were from idiots poking fun of our site. I was so tired my head bobbed several times as I gazed at the computer screen. I deleted most of the emails, then glanced at the lone remaining one I hadn’t read. I clicked on the link and scanned the email. Someone else needed our help.
I made a mental note of the author and name of the location, then turned off the computer. I then dragged my weary body over to my bed and rolled under the covers. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. But I awakened around 3:00 a.m. with the name of the new haunted location on my mind.
“Black Shadow Ridge!” I muttered.
My heart pounded. I was short of breath. It took me more than an hour to fall back asleep.
The End
About The Author
Rick Suttle is a writer known for the novels, “Hell Year” and “Suicide Peak.” He’s also written six novelettes and thousands of health, nutrition and business articles in publications such as The Houston Chronicle, GlobalPost, Livestrong, eHow and The Women’s Nest. He played a postman in the movie “Carol,” starring Cate Blanchett and Rooney Mara, which opens in November 2015. Rick is a graduate of Miami (Oxford, Ohio) and California Coast Universities, where he earned bachelor’s and master’s degrees in business and marketing. He currently lives in Cincinnati, Ohio.