Poltergeist Party Girls

by M J Waverly

  “Why were you at the sorority house?” Jason asked.

  “I’m working on a screenplay,” I said.

  “Screenplay. Cool. Is that why you were in California because of your writing?”

  I nodded. “I had to return home because of Nana.” I didn’t mention my detour in Florida.

  “Sorry about your grandmother.”

  “Thanks.”

  "Let me do this. I'll take care of the oil. It's on the house."

  “I can’t.”

  “I’m the reason you were fired. Let me at least help save your truck’s engine.”

  “I don’t know.”

  "Yes, you do know. Because if we don't get oil in your truck's engine, it's going to blow. Sit down in the waiting room, make yourself at home, and I'll let you know when your truck is ready." He grinned, revealing white teeth and kissable lips.

  I sat down in a leather chair and checked my text messages. Ava had sent one. Don’t know if this helps. Bryce saw a Help Wanted Sign at Burger Belle. It could be a temporary solution until you find something else.

  Burger Belle. So, my life had come to this.

  I didn’t have a lot of options. Ghosts. Maintaining a balance between this world and the Void didn’t make money. Next stop: Burger Belle.

  I glanced up. Jason leaned against the doorway into the waiting room, watching me.

  “Is my truck ready?” I asked. Hopefully, the news wasn’t all bad.

  “Not yet, we’re running a diagnostic on it.”

  “That sounds expensive.”

  “I’m surprised your truck hasn’t left you stranded.”

  I shrugged.

  “I’d like to show you something. Come upstairs with me.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “It’s an office. No ghosts I promise.”

  He led me through the waiting room, through an office, and opened a door. Stairs led to an attic.

  Upstairs, Jason flicked a light revealing an open-concept office with three desks in different corners.

  “Wow!”

  Jason flashed a smile. “This is our headquarters. Welcome to Third Eye Investigations.”

  Computer monitors and hard drives lined one wall. Cameras, tripods, and other electronic equipment were stacked on shelves.

  “Sidney, since you’re out of a job. I’d like to offer you one.”

  I opened and closed my mouth, and then managed to speak. "Job. Doing what?"

  “I’d like for you to work with us, help with videos, paperwork, searching for ghosts. I know you can see them.”

  I stiffened.

  “Because I’m like you.” He cut a sidelong glance at me.

  I cocked my head, trying to absorb everything Jason said.

  “I can’t see the ghosts, but sometimes I hear them. I swear the ghosts of the sorority sisters want us to help find their murderer.”

  Six

  I told Jason I had to think about his job offer. I wasn’t quite ready to accept. Close. I wanted to check out other options before I made ghost hunting my career path.

  Desperation makes us do things we said we’d never do. I stared up at the neon dancing Jersey cow festooned with a blinking ribbon around her neck.

  A help wanted sign hung in the window. I winced as the gravel underneath my truck’s tires crunched when I pulled into the parking lot. Jason’s job offer looked better and better.

  With my experience with ghosts, I could contribute to his channel and help with paperwork

  I parked next to an eggplant purple Toyota Tercel.

  I inhaled. Do it.

  If nothing else, I could use this experience in a screenplay. Neon cow sign comes to life and attacks burger employees. I’d use that as one of my loglines. My life was fodder for my horror movie screenplays.

  I entered the restaurant.

  "Can I help you?" Betty Johnson, the owner of the Burger Belle, glowered at me from the order window.

  “Yes, I would like to apply for a job.”

  She reached for some papers underneath the cash register and handed me an application. She pulled a pen out of a can next to a jar labeled tips. “Have a sit and fill it out.”

  I plunked myself into the plastic booth and stared out the big glass window and the magnificent view of the mountains including the rocky peak of Thunder Mountain. Trees were decked out in leaves of burnt red, orange, and yellow, jewel-toned leaves of fall.

  I filled out the application. I stalled when I came to the former jobs section. Did I put down my recent job at the college?

  I cut a side glance at the kitchen, where a pimply-faced teen boy worked the sizzling fry basket as he simultaneously flipped a burger. The grease snapped as the patty landed on the grill.

  I wrote it all down including my numerous retail jobs in California and Florida. I cast my gaze on my tires.

  I finished filling everything out and handed the application to Betty Johnson, who pursed her lips as she read. The crow’s feet around her eyes deepened as she looked up at me.

  “You’re Elizabeth Latimer’s granddaughter, aren’t you?”

  Acid reflux burned my esophagus. Betty Johnson would ask questions about Nana’s disappearance.

  “Yes. I am.”

  “I ain’t hiring.” Betty Johnson’s entire demeanor turned cold.

  “What?” Not the response I’d anticipated. I pointed to the sign in the window.

  Betty removed the ‘now hiring’ sign. “You heard me I ain’t hiring.”

  I blinked as I tried to make sense of this situation. “Excuse me?”

  “Your grandmother was an evil woman, and I certainly don’t need her evil granddaughter working for me,” Betty Johnson ripped the application into several small pieces paper, threw them up in the air as they drifted down like torn snowflakes onto the counter.

  I gripped the edge of the counter, bit down on my lips, and inhaled. I wanted to shout out ‘listen here, bitch.’ I allowed the anger to flow through me.

  Several seconds passed as I held Betty Johnson’s glacier stare.

  "Everyone knows she was involved with them, magic users. I'd seen them gather under a full moon at Thunder Mountain National Park down in the gorge. All dressed up in their robes surrounding a fire just like them poltergeist party girls. Evil doings and you're grandmother was their leader. Everyone in town knew it."

  Betty Johnson was a nut. I imagined a giant squirrel attacking Burger Belle.

  "Thank you for your time." I forced a smile on my face and pivoted on my booted foot, and I left the restaurant with my head held high. Betty Johnson would wind up in a screenplay where she would meet a dreadful end by a monster. As I backed out of the parking lot, I noticed several squirrels scooting across the power line, surging toward Burger Belle.

  I smiled.

  Still furious after my Burger Belle encounter, after I arrived home, I called Jason and told him I'd take the job.

  He offered one—I was taking it. I wanted to accept before Mom, Ava, and Laney told me why I shouldn't.

  “I hoped you would call,” he said. “I’m excited you’re working with us.”

  I liked how he sounded like he was happy to have me as part of the team. This job and situation could work.

  “What time do I come in tomorrow?” I asked. I hope it wasn’t too early.

  “You have a class tonight?” Jason’s voice rose higher as someone shouted his name from somewhere in the sop.

  “Yes, I do. From eight until eleven o’clock.”

  “Come in around ten.”

  “Sounds great.” I wanted to laugh. I would be able to sleep late since I didn't get home from class until midnight because of after-class discussion and the drive back to my Mom's house.

  “I’m doing some research on the sorority sisters, so I’ll share what I uncovered with you tomorrow.”

  "A good beginning." I should be doing research, but I had to write this last logline. If I finished, then I'd do my research on the sorority sisters. Two sets o
f eyes always helped when sifting through information.

  “Be careful when you attend class.” Jason sounded concerned.

  “I will.”

  "That's late for a night class," he said.

  “It’s the only time it’s offered, and I like it.” I pulled out my notecards from my messenger bag along with a magic marker. Brainstorming time. I wanted to get my loglines finished and begin the outline for my screenplay.

  “Who do you think murdered the sorority sisters?” I asked. I tossed my messenger bag to the side.

  “I think we need to make a list of suspects.”

  “I don’t know. Could it have been an old boyfriend?” Jason suggested.

  “Good place to start.”

  Uncle Joe might have some information about the sorority sister murders. I would ask him before I went to class.

  Shouting along with loud machine noises erupted in the background. "I have to go take care of things out in the shop. In the morning, we'll compare out the list of suspects and go over my research."

  “You got it.” I smiled at my phone. Excitement filtered through me as I thought of Jason’s handsome face.

  Thirty minutes later, I had my last logline: Revenge Served Cold. An angry restaurant owner stalked by the ghosts of her former employees, whom she killed and shoved in a freezer.

  Should I go with death by giant squirrel attack? A witch could cast a spell and the squirrel would grow larger like Godzilla. A witch? I twirled my pencil in my fingers. Nana had abilities, but she wasn’t part of a coven like Rudolph Clover had suggested, or Betty Johnson had angrily accused.

  Someone knocked on my door.

  “Come in.”

  Ava entered. Dressed in patchwork overalls, a top knot piled of tangled brunette hair jumbled on top of her head, and rubber garden boots printed with smiling cats: the perfect example of a gardener. She sat down on the edge of my bed. "Did you get the job?" Ava asked.

  “No.” Before she could say anything I lifted my hand, “I went to the interview, and it didn’t go well.”

  She released her breath. “I knew it was a long shot.”

  "Betty Johnson wasn't very nice. Let me end it at that."

  “What did she do?” Ava asked.

  “It wasn’t what she did. It was what she said about Nana.”

  Pink spots erupted on Ava’s cheeks. “What did she say?”

  “Stuff that doesn’t warrant repeating, but she did mention Nana was evil.”

  Ava frowned. “I won’t ever eat at Burger Belle, again. What will you do?”

  “I have a job.”

  “What?”

  “I accepted Jason Hunsinger’s offer to work with the ghost hunting team.”

  “Are you crazy?” Ava rose from her chair and paced.

  “Possibly, but I need a job. This one fits my schedule.”

  “Mom will flip.” Ava threw her hands up in frustration.

  “I know, and I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell her. At least not for now.”

  “Wow.” Ava shook her head. “You and Jason Hunsinger. He’s handsome, but I never figured he was your type.”

  I didn’t want to inquire as to what my sister thought was my type. Ava didn’t know about my experience with Camden and Zombietown. I loved my older sister, but she could be overbearing and a complete know-it-all.

  “I hadn’t noticed.”I stacked my three-by-five cards.

  “You lie.”

  “He’s good looking.”

  A worried expression formed on Ava’s face. “He recently broke up with his fiancé, Amanda. She didn’t like his ghost hunting, and she gave him an ultimatum: Me or the ghosts.”

  “Guess the ghosts won,” I said.

  I glanced at my desk clock. “I need to go. I want to talk to Uncle Joe at the station.”

  I shoved my cards into my messenger bag and hitched it up onto my shoulder.

  A strong wind suddenly gusted, whirling papers into a mini-cyclone. Cold pressed into my lungs, and I couldn't breathe as I sensed darkness.

  Ava gripped me by the shoulder. “Do you feel it?”

  My sister’s eyes turned black. Her face changed to resemble Emma’s. I dropped my keys.

  “Stop him. Stop him.” Ava/Emma screamed.

  Emma’s ghostly form stepped out of my sister’s body.

  Beyond the filmy fog of dark evil, a presence of good so small and tiny that it would have been microscopic compared to the wall of darkness reached out to me.

  “Stop him. Stop him.” Emma swirled up to the ceiling. “He’s awakened.”

  “Who?” I asked.

  “You have to make her go away.”

  Ava rubbed her hands up and down. "It's so cold."

  “How did you find your way here?” I focused on Emma.

  Ava’s eyes widened. “Is there a ghost in here?”

  I nodded.

  Emma hung in midair her hair floating around her as if she floated underwater like a dead corpse.

  “Who do I need to make go away?” I gripped the back of my chair.

  “Dr. Smith.” Emma shrieked, and then she disappeared with a loud crack.

  Seven

  When I arrived at the Cloverville College Administrative building, I rushed to Dr. Smith's office. Emma waited for me at the top of the porch steps. She'd returned to her normal state looking like a turn-of-the-twentieth-century college student dressed in a long skirt, high button shoes, and a white lacy blouse. She sort of reminded me of a younger version of Mary Poppins.

  “You have to make her go away. She keeps screaming.” Emma bobbed up and down.

  The foyer was empty and dark.

  The office door closed. My pulse quickened.

  I turned the knob. I caught the scent of copper and something rotting like old meat in the refrigerator. In Emma's glow, I saw Dr. Smith crumpled on the floor. Blood pooled around her body.

  “Get up.” Dr. Smith’s translucent ghost-self kicking at, but her high heels kept sinking into her torso.

  I bent down on the opposite side of Dr. Smith’s ghost and checked her pulse. Nothing.

  I froze, and then while stared disbelievingly at the sight of Dr. Smith's body. I called 911 on my phone. I stepped back, not wanting to contaminate the scene. I'd seen too many crime shows on television to know not to touch anything. Leave the scene as it was.

  “Get the hell up.” Dr. Smith shrieked.

  Emma floated beside me. “She keeps doing that.”

  Dr. Smith was dead.

  And she was a ghost.

  When some people die and don’t immediately cross over to Bright Side, or The Void, their spirit will be in denial and remain on Earth, hence a ghost.

  “Did you see who did it?” I whispered out of the side of my mouth.

  “I don’t know.” Emma drifted over to Dr. Smith, who swatted at her. “Get out of here you dreadful creature.” Dr. Smith swirled up and hovered near the ceiling.

  Her eyes landed on me. “What are you doing here?” She wailed. “I fired you.”

  “You’re dead.” I didn’t want to be here and having this conversation with my former boss. “Do you know what happened?” I asked.

  “She was entering different numbers into the computer as to what was in the books.” Emma revolved around me.

  “You were spying on me.” Ingrid rushed at Emma, who turned into a puffy cloud and disappeared, leaving Dr. Smith a thin almost invisible outline.

  “You might want to preserve your energy.” I rubbed the back of my neck.

  “I’m really a ghost.” Dr. Smith drifted down and landed in her office chair. Her office lamp blinked on and then off. Electrical impulses burst from her. New ghosts found it hard to control their energy at first.

  “Yep.”

  “It would help if you can tell me how you died.”

  “I don’t remember.” Dr. Smith dropped her head into her hands.

  “Nothing?” I asked.

  Dr. Smith's voice quaked. "I was sending
an email, and then the power went out, and evil darkness enveloped me."

  Someone must have turned off the power.

  “What were you doing on the computer?” I hoped it would give me a clue to her murderer.

  Dr. Smith shook her head. “I don’t remember other than a menacing darkness, but it wasn’t a person, it was more like a spirit with ill intent hovered in the room.”

  Sirens wailed in the distance. The sheriff’s department was on their way.

  "What will happen to me? Will I pass over to the Bright Side many good food through? Or to... "

  Empathy welled up within me. I didn’t know everything about Dr. Smith. She was afraid.

  "I don't know, but you're still here, and from what I know from situations like yours, you have unfinished business, and that may keep you from traveling to the light."

  “Why hasn’t Emma left? Will I be here with her hundreds of years from now?”

  “I wished I could say no, but it’s unknown.”

  “Have you helped ghosts before?”

  “Not really. You’re my first ghost.”

  Dr. Smith sighed. “I hope you’re better with ghosts than you are as a receptionist.”

  Me, too.

  Minutes later, the ambulance arrived along with several deputy sheriff officers. Detective Longwood, a long and lean man with a scarecrow-like face, guided me away as they loaded Dr. Smith's body into the ambulance.

  “When did you find the deceased?”

  I shoved my hands into my jean pockets. “About twenty minutes, ago. I checked for a pulse, and then I called 911.”

  “Why were you here?” Detective Longwood held his pen ready to write in his notebook kind of like what the television detectives do when they’re gathering information.

  I couldn’t explain I’d been summoned by Emma. “I wanted to see if she had my last paycheck ready?”

  “Last paycheck?” He scribbled something on his notepad.

  “Yes, she fired me after I wiped out her hard drive. I was new to the job.”

  Detective Longwood nodded as his pencil scratched his accusations down on the paper.

  For some reason, I couldn’t stop talking because I didn’t want him to consider me a suspect which was ridiculous because I wasn’t.