“Did you get the answers you needed?”
“I got more than I bargained for. Mind if we drop it for now?”
She looked a bit miffed. I knew her well enough to know that she wanted to pepper me with questions. “Okay,” Jenny said cheerfully, “how’s my cousin?”
Maybe Journalism or something involving interrogation would be more up Jenny’s alley than Accounting.
“Pretty good. She’s finally done with the holiday overtime. She’s coming up this weekend, unless something else comes up. I haven’t seen her since you and Chaz bumped into us.”
She looked irritated; it was worth the trouble tweaking her.
“His name is Carleton, not Chaz.”
“Whatever. How’s he doing anyway?”
“He’s back at George Mason, but we’ve been out on a few dates.”
If she was looking for some kind of reaction, I wasn’t going to give one. Don’t get me wrong, Jenny was very attractive. She was also a little naïve and only a year removed from all the pettiness that was high school. Oh the television drenched drama of it all.
I took a moment to gnaw on my leftover fried chicken leg.
“That’s cool. Tell him I said, ‘hey,’ next time you talk to him.”
“Uh sure, okay. I actually have a job in the mornings.”
“Oh, that’s right, good for you. What are you doing?”
“Don’t you remember? I’m working for Carleton’s father, at his law firm.”
“You never really said. So is he an ambulance chaser?”
Now she looked annoyed. “No, he does oil and gas law. Mineral rights and all that stuff.” Her hand motions became more noticeable when she’s agitated. It was actually rather amusing and I needed a good chuckle. I stop short of trying to figure out a way to insult an oil and gas lawyer. Mineral rights? Sounds like the people who show up with the big companies to cheat you out of your land and what’s under it as well.
“So what do you do at a law firm?”
“Just about anything that needs done: invoicing, filing, running stuff down to the courts. It pays decently enough and I’ll see if I can pick up some vocational credit along the way for my accounting degree. What about you? Has anyone else called you from that news article?”
“No, that’s pretty much tapered off, but I solved another missing person case over in Bowie.”
She begged me for details, but I was curious about one thing first.
“Before I tell you the story, I have to know why the change of heart? Last year I was lower than dirt.”
“I thought about some of the things you said to me over the holidays and you were right about not asserting myself. I spent most of my teenage years being a hellion around my mom and giving my dad fits after she died. I took a long look at myself and realized that I’d been overcompensating by trying to be the perfect little angel for my aunt and uncle.” She paused searching for other words and finally continued, “Mr. Binstock offered me the job and I took it over their objections, but considering my GPA is perfect, at this point, they’ve got nothing to complain about. Plus, Mr. Binstock is like my father’s best friend. Something tells me that if I step out of line, it won’t be too long before he hears about it.”
“And how does that explain you sitting here this morning?”
“Well, being assertive means I should be able to choose my friends and not let people dictate who I can hang out with.”
I probably smiled for the first time all day and let out a low whistle. “Well, look who’s become Miss Independent all of a sudden.”
“I know! Isn’t it shocking? Now, tell me, what happened in Bowie?”
One nice thing about chatting with Jenny was it got my mind off things. She’s just like that. Anyone who has ever talked with her can agree. In contrast, Brother Silas Parker was very somber, but he’d gotten the whole story including the revelations from the departed Darren Porter. Rusty seemed rather concerned over the news. This might have been due to his being tossed through the air like a rag doll, courtesy of the good colonel. It made me wonder if he’d volunteer his services next time I needed a ride.
Jenny instead was gushing over Elsbeth’s relationship with Kevin and how they’re both trying to be better people – dead, but still better morally than they were when they were alive. It must have appealed to the Jane Austen or Nora Roberts in her. Me, I wasn’t nearly as impressed with the mousey woman finally being treated like a person, rather than a doormat, or the notion that the serial-cheating dentist was test driving moral fortitude. Still, talking with Jenny was the shot in the arm that I needed against the doom and gloom that I’d been playing over and over in my mind.
History was more interesting than I hoped. The instructor was passionate for it, which was nice. Let’s face it; the material was pretty much the same whether it was being taught here or at George Mason. It boiled down to how much the student wants to learn and how capable the Professor was able to deliver and discuss it. My newly acquired thirst to learn about History would be put to the test, plus there was that old saying about those who didn’t learn from it.
In my case, if I didn’t learn from it, it might kill me.
One thing about the short winter session, it takes a toll on you. I spent most of the evenings reading and writing essays. I quickly realized that I should have only taken one class. Between the coursework and the constant looking over my shoulder, I was exhausted. I even bowed out of that week’s poker game with the guys.
The good thing was no class on Friday, so I had a three day weekend to look forward to. By Thursday I was ready for it. Candy managed to clear off her schedule and we were going to give this dating thing a second shot. It sounded like she needed as much of a break as I did as well. She wholeheartedly admitted how stressful her job was. Over the holidays, Candy worked two fatal car accidents. She wasn’t very squeamish, but the gore got to her. My hope was that I could keep up with the “wild child” that lurked just below her oh-so-attractive deputy veneer.
I salvaged the last fifteen minutes of class. Clockwatching and idle speculation had eaten up most of the last hour, all the tell tale signs of burn out. Let’s face it; Mike Ross was a mediocre student to begin with. There was a reason that the four year schools I’d applied to hadn’t come knocking on my door with scholarship offers. Even my computer courses last term left me struggling. I had an aptitude for the field, but concentrating on things like the OSI model and learning to write basic scripts didn’t hold my attention nearly as much as I hoped.
Maybe I could combine the two fields? Check your home computer for viruses and the rest of your house for ghosts, all in one visit! All for the low price of $79.95! There’d be commercials and everything!
The lights’ flickering caught the attention of everyone in the room. A murmur of anticipation passed through the room, as my classmates suddenly hoped for an early dismissal. It wouldn’t have helped me. The bus wouldn’t get to the stop any earlier.
The Professor hurried the rest of his lecture. He must have been eager to get started on his weekend too. He dismissed us about ten minutes early, so I lagged behind, not wanting to go rushing out into the cold evening to stand at the bus stop for longer than necessary. I decided a pit stop in the bathroom was in order.
Stepping up to the urinal, I was in the middle of relieving myself when the lights flickered again. There was a feeling like when the air pressure changes just before a rainstorm. That was all the warning I got as a big frame literally burst out of the wall and rammed me backwards into the stall behind me.
Charlie Snowden in a stylish prison jumpsuit, big as life – well sort of, plowed right into me. We bounced into the stall and I tripped over the toilet inside, back into the corner. The only thing stopping me from falling was his hands wrapping around my throat. With a maniacal gleam in his eyes he started screaming, “You’re gonna pay, Ross! I’m gonna kill you!”
As far as “bad guy” death speeches go, it was pretty lame. Then again, w
hat the hell was I expecting from him – Shakespeare? He hadn’t learned any new tricks since his death.
Fortunately, I picked up some useful things along the way.
Though my phantom sword sat uselessly on the ground next to my backpack, my right hand came out of my jacket filled with iron filings and I open palm slapped it straight into his face and used my thumb to rub it into one of his eyes. His screams of agony were music to my ears and more than made up for the piss all over my pants. He dropped to one knee making it rather crowded in this tight area. I wrapped my left hand with my right palm and brought both down on him hard.
Snowden fled into the floor, but I got a kick into his back as he dove. Thanks to my nearly departed friend in Wilkes-Barre, I could now hear his howls fade as he fled. I grabbed my stuff and hurriedly splashed some water all over my pants and hit them with the hand dryers for about five minutes before sprinting out to meet my bus. I’m certain the folks on the bus all wondered where that wonderful odor was coming from. Thankfully, it was dark, and I didn’t care that much about what they thought in the first place.
So, Charlie Snowden was after me. The raw iron burns he picked up tonight should make him think twice about trying that stunt again. With some luck, Charlie would be out of commission for the entire weekend and blind in one eye to boot. Odds were that he wasn’t strong enough to penetrate the barrier around my house, but I’d have to be careful out in public. Scolding myself, I remembered this guy came up with a scheme to off his elderly ex-grandmother-in-law and it almost worked.
The bus ride home was uneventful. I strategically used the backpack to cover myself, though the driver shot me a look when I got on.
The people still moving around the neighborhood paid no attention to the prone form sprawled on the concrete of Mom’s driveway. Normally, you’d think that’d attract a good deal of attention.
I set my bag down and acted like I was checking the tires on the car. My left hand shook Kevin McNeil hard. I was rewarded with a low moan. The neighbor’s dog started barking almost immediately. I wondered whether it was a coincidence, or not, as I prodded the out of shape dentist again and rolled him face up.
His face told me what I would have ended up looking like had Snowden gotten the better of me. Charlie must have given his ex-wife’s boyfriend an examination of his own, except with a two by four.
I helped the ghost to his feet and half-carried him over to the front of the house, outside of my bedroom. He mumbled how Charlie ambushed him after his last “date” with Elsbeth. Considering how bad he looked, I was in good shape – comparison always helps things.
“Just go through the wall here and into my room. My mom’s home and I don’t feel like explaining why I’m dragging you into the house.”
“Sure, I just need to lie down for a minute. Hey? What smells like pee?”
Okay, I probably didn’t have to shove him at the wall so hard.
“What are you going to do about this?” Elsbeth demanded. She’d come over frantic about her missing beau, only to find him recovering on my floor.
“I’ve already spoken to Silas and he was going to call your grandmother and recommend that she avoid leaving the house. We’re going to lay a protective barrier around his gravesite after the funeral. He’s getting buried tomorrow right? So, we can do it in the evening or Saturday morning. Either way, if his body is his focus and he tries to go back to recharge, old Charlie will be trapped and unable to get out. We can send Kevin in with the sword to finish him off. I’m guessing you’d be up for it, right?”
Only one of Kevin’s eyes was able to open at the moment.
“Damn straight,” he growled
Elsbeth wasn’t satisfied and her fear of the man was getting the better of her.
“He’s too strong! You should get more help!”
I fought my urge to shout at her. Mom was out watching her shows, enjoying a rare evening off from her second job at Pizza Hut. I kept music playing to mask the sound of my side of the conversation. Our relationship was on enough thin ice without mom getting wind of this. “Calm down right now! This is no reason to panic! Your ex probably looks a helluva lot worse than Kevin does right now. Look. He’s a big strong bastard, but that’s it. I doubt he knows any of the ‘ins’ and ‘outs’ of being a ghost. Unless he has someone coaching him, he hasn’t been dead long enough to really get a grip on what he can and can’t do.”
“You don’t know him like I do…”
It’s kind of unnerving to see a ghost trembling.
“Elsbeth, look at me. Look at me! He lost the element of surprise. This was his best shot at me and he blew it.”
Kevin speaks up, “Where do you think he is now?”
“Who knows? My guess is somewhere licking his wounds. Elsbeth, you keep saying how well you know him, so your job is to think of anything he might use for a focus, if he isn’t using his gravesite. Go on back to Megan’s house; you can’t do any more here.”
“But I should stay, for Kevin…” she trailed off. Either she was really being lovey-dovey or she was begging not to go and I knew Kevin wasn’t going anywhere.
“Fine, stay if you want, but when my mom goes to bed, you two go out and stay on the couch. I need to get some sleep.”
Until then, my combat experience, though limited, took over. We didn’t have a lot, but I was certain we had more than our enemy did. The three of us just needed to act smart…
Sadly, my name and the words “act smart” weren’t often used in the same sentence.
“Can you see him,” I ask the blind man. One of my many problems is that from a distance, ghosts look like regular people to me. It was all pretty much a blur beyond thirty yards. Sometimes I can spot a little haze around them, but most times not. Granted that my vision is still a bit suspect, but my last check up showed a decided improvement.
Brother Silas Parker was completely blind, except he could see ghosts, when they’re out in the open. If they’re obscured by a solid object, he can’t. “Other than our friends, there are two of them over that direction, neither of them look to be big enough to match your description, Mike.”
I wondered whether some of the living funeral goers were there simply to make certain Snowden was dead. Elsbeth pointed out who were his students and members of the faculty. She sneered when pointing out his new girlfriend, who, she said; he only dated because she had “big boobs”. Some things don’t change.
Silas and I were pretending to visit a grave; close enough to watch, but far enough to be out of the way. I spend a lot of time in graveyards these days – so I know how to act.
“Mike, don’t you think you ought to cancel your date with Candy?” Elsbeth asks for the third time.
My answer was a bit on the snappish side. Outside of Jenny pulling her head out of her hiney, the last few days hadn’t been a resounding success – I was really looking forward to my often postponed date. “No, I don’t. She’s my girlfriend. She knows about…” I waved my hands around in slight futility, “all this. We’ve had one date so far and it didn’t go so great. I’m not afraid of him and I’m not going to let him run my life.”
From what little I know of people who’ve possessed this ability, they’ve all died early, in poverty, and were generally regarded as mentally ill. Frankly, that’s not a great career path, so I need to make an effort to buck the trend.
Brother Silas took a conciliatory position and addressed her. “I can assume from the tone of his reply, Elsbeth, that you question his desire to live as normal a life as possible. Michael walks a difficult path; we can only help him along the way as best we can, but only he can carry his burden. Ask yourself, if this were any other ghost, say, the elusive Colonel Vincent, would you be so concerned?”
Elsbeth had the sense to look rebuffed and Silas reached out to where she stood and made like he was resting his hand on her shoulder. His savvy approach was another reminder that ghosts were once people too and that I needed to remember to treat them like they’re sti
ll alive.
Of course, he wasn’t finished with me yet, “That said, I think it’s a questionable move on your part as well, Michael, but I was young too; a long time ago and you’re going to be moving around in her car so he’d be hard pressed to track you.” Silas paused like he was searching for something else to say, “Has everyone left?”
“Just about.”
“Good, there will be a stretch of time before the workers come back to put the earth back on top of the casket. We should be able to get in and sanctify the gravesite then. Watch the parking lot and tell me when the last car leaves.”
Minutes later, the group of us walked towards Snowden’s grave. Charlie floated out of his casket and glared at us. Elsbeth moved protectively behind Kevin, carried my sword. The pipe wrench was in my backpack, but I was starting to become rather fond of handfuls of iron dust. After all, Charlie’s ghostly face looked like he’d shoved it into a wasp’s nest.
“What’s it going to be, Charlie?”
He hissed back at me, “I’m not going to the other side until you’re dead, Ross. This is all your fault!”
“Sure, blame the guy who stopped you from murdering an elderly woman for her money, not the guy who actually killed you. You’re nothing but a punk, Snowden.”
“Charlie, for the love of God, give it up!” Elsbeth pleaded.
“You’ll get yours, you stupid bitch! After I’m done with shithead here, I’m coming for you and you’re little boyfriend. You thought you could get away from me! I own your ass, bitch, and I always will!”
Elsbeth shrieked and I started moving towards him. “Well come on big shot! You want some of this? No time like the present. Let’s see how tough you really are.”
He wagged a finger at me and put on his best menacing face. “Not today, but soon. I’ll be coming for you very soon. Enjoy your last days…”
With that he dived into the ground and disappeared, while my voice trailed him. “How long have you been practicing that speech, asshole? Kevin, keep an eye out for him. C’mon Silas, let’s get this over with.” The holy man laid gave his blessing around the gravesite, a blessing that I reinforced it with three tubes of iron dust. Snowden’s grave was as good as sealed. If he doesn’t have an external focus, he’ll stay put.
Pennies for the Ferryman - 01 Page 18