“Not now, I’m having a family outing.” he answered the spirit. He picked up the bowling ball and tested its weight. It felt heavy and he decided that perhaps his earlier choice had been too light. He stepped to the line.
“Oh please, please, it’ll be quick… I promise,”
The spirit was stood beside him and he was looking imploringly at Terry. He’d heard that before, how many spirits had promised they’d be quick only for a million other spirits to come for a go?
“No,” he stressed.
The young man’s face pinched up in anguish. He was ugly, missing a few teeth and the bags under his eyes had bags themselves. He was wearing a baseball cap, a red jacket and a muddy pair of grey tracksuit bottoms. He was also missing one trainer.
Perhaps this was how the spirit died? Sometimes the spirits manifested in the way they left the mortal plane. It had led to a few difficult exchanges with spirits who returned as mutilated corpses over the years.
“Oh please,”
“No, I’m trying to enjoy some time with my family,” Terry hissed. He slung the ball down the lane, too distracted to put any thought into it. It zigzagged violently off the rails.
“I just want to tell my mother about the money buried under the shed, that’s all I promise…”
Terry sat back down, Matt shot him a curious glance as he returned with a jug of coke and four paper cups. He opened his mouth to say something but he noticed Terry looked distant. Even though he knew he wouldn’t be able to see the spirit, he still glanced around.
“Look, I know you mean well. But if I do it for you, then any other spirit in a five mile radius will want a go…”
“I just want you to tell her about the money, that’s all. I swear…”
“You’re not gonna leave me alone are you…” Terry sighed mentally.
The spirit visibly brightened. “Please!” he stressed.
“You okay?” It was Matt. He’d come to sit next to Terry. He placed a hand on Terry’s knee and looked concerned. He’d scored a strike but celebration was far from his mind. “Being bugged?”
Terry nodded.
“Oh please mate, I swear down. Just tell her that Jamie wants her to know that there’s five grand buried under the garden shed. By the side of the red roses. Near Twinkle’s grave…”
“Want to leave?” Matt suggested.
“No, I’ll go do this… and then, I’ll be left alone…” Terry directed the latter half of his sentence at an empty pocket of air.
“Ok,” Matt nodded.
He’d been on enough family outings to know that the spirits didn’t understand personal boundaries and would harass Terry all day. It was sometimes just better to do what they wanted and get rid of them.
Jamie led the way, he walked through various people and Terry watched every single one of them shiver. As Terry passed a young woman he heard her remark someone had just walked over her grave. No, it had been a ghost literally walking through her but he didn’t tell her that.
Jamie came to rest in front of a woman. She was a large woman, yet regal looking. Her nice golden jewellery complimented the red cardigan she was wearing. Her upturned golden hair was fashioned with hairspray. Terry guessed she was in her late fifties, she was a hallmark of a different generation. She wasn’t partaking in the bowling, instead six children were. They were of varying ages from seven up to thirteen. Terry assumed they were her grandchildren.
She slowly became aware that Terry was walking up to her and she looked slightly alarmed. It was easy to forget Terry had an unusual appearance.
“Excuse me,” he began.
“Her name is Brenda,” the spirit introduced. He was hovering near her, beaming warmly at her.
“Brenda is it?” Despite having just been told this, Terry never took a spirit on face value. He’d been the butt of many a prank over the years.
“Yes, yes. Is everything okay?” her concern was starting to rise.
A couple of grandkids pooled nearby, curious about the stranger that was spooking their nana.
“Erm… This is gonna be a bit strange, but I have a message for you.”
“Oh… Right?” she stammered. One hand was slowly reaching for her handbag just to her side.
“Jamie wants me to tell you that there’s some money buried under the shed. Next to the red roses, near… Twinkle’s grave…” Jamie was mouthing the details with him.
Brenda’s face slackened and a white sheen slid over her.
“How? Wha?” She couldn’t speak. She felt a little violated. This strange looking stranger had just pierced unknowable facts.
“He just wanted me to tell you that…” Terry bowed his head, glanced at Jamie and then turned to leave.
“Wait! Is he… is he okay?”
Terry stalled. He really didn’t want to do this. He just wanted a game of bowling with his husband and kids, call him selfish but he didn’t want to be connecting strangers with their dead loved ones.
“He’s in the ‘better place’,” Terry answered her warmly.
“Thanks mate, thanks…”
“Is he around?”
“All the time,” Terry offered unsure if it was true or not. In part he was just trying to shut down the conversation.
“Tell her thank you, for-”
“Jamie, I said I’d relay the message. I really don’t want to end up…”
“Thank you, what’s your name…?” Brenda looked deeply moved, the alarm she once had had drifted away and now she looked quietly shaken.
“It’s Terry,”
“…Just tell her thank you, for everything. She’ll know what I mean…”
“Thank you Terry,”
“He says ‘thank you, for everything’. He also says you’ll know what he means…”
Brenda smiled, a little soft smile that contrasted with the tears drifting up to her eyes.
Terry bowed his head and excused himself. He returned to find it was his turn and the girls were impatiently awaiting his bowl. Matt gave him a curious look, a look that asked if it was all done.
Terry nodded and threw the ball down the lane.
Yet again, he spectacularly failed. Christine giggled. The second ball missed the remaining pins. When he returned to his seat he found he was the lowest scorer. Christine was beating him. Bridget had lost her streak of strikes.
Matt took his turn. It was undecided if he deliberately botched it to kill his own streak or was generally just distracted.
Bridget found it greatly entertaining anyway.
Terry may have resolved the whole spirit drama but he felt a little on edge all the same. He felt braced for yet more interruptions from the spirit world. With a paranoid fear he glanced around. He couldn’t spot any spirits, he was surrounded on all sides by living and breathing families.
“You okay?” Matt slipped beside him. He handed Terry a cup of cola.
“I am now…” Terry sighed.
“Your phone pinged while you was gone…”
Well that was unusual. Terry’s phone rarely made a noise beyond a ringtone. He dug into his coat pocket and took it out. It was a Facebook message. Off a Christine Smith.
Why did that name ring a bell? He couldn’t see the contents of the message, he’d long ago disabled that setting to stop young prying eyes snooping on snippets of messages. He opened the message.
“Who is it?” Matt could read the look on Terry’s face.
“A Christine Smith…” Who was she? His head felt cloudy but he knew he knew the name. But from where? A client?
“As in Mathew Senior’s wife?”
Of course!
The message opened. He read it aloud. “I’ve found out who you are, and what you can do. I’m sorry for yesterday. Please come back tomorrow at 4pm, Mathew will be out. Please don’t reply, he doesn’t know I’ve sent this. I need to connect with my son.”
Both men wondered how many times she’d drafted that out. Terry also wondered how covertly she’d had to send it too.
“Yes.” Matt cheered.
“Your turn,” Bridget indicated to Terry as she arrived for a swig of cola.
“This is it Matt, we can figure out what happened!” Terry excitedly added.
“Yes… Yes…” Matt’s enthusiasm and relief was enjoyable.
Terry locked the phone and pocketed it.
Finally a break. This was the best chance for Terry to learn just what Matty Senior had been up to. After spending a day trying to construct an elaborate ruse for Terry to connect with the child, it had delivered itself on a silver platter.
He threw the ball and scored a strike.
His first.
Probably his last.
But it didn’t matter, they finally had the break.
It felt like a giant weight had been lifted off his shoulders and now they could enjoy the rest of the weekend.
“I’ll ring the Captain,” Matt announced as Terry came close.
“Matt… Do it after, it can wait. It’s not like anything is happening till tomorrow…”
Matt hesitated, he realised he’d become swept up in the excitement. Terry was right, of course it could wait. He grounded himself, he was here with his family. He should enjoy that. For once, he needed to pick family over work.
---------------------------------------------
Is this what an affair felt like? He wondered.
He felt slightly paranoid, like a trespasser, as he drifted up the drive. The sporty car was gone. Terry guessed the nice car was bought from profits from the drug dealing, it suddenly struck Terry as a little showy. Was it such a wise idea to flaunt your wealth when you made it illegally?
He knocked on the door. Even though Christine had said Mathew Senior would be out, he still felt wary of him opening the door. As the door handle sank he felt his gut sink. It was an unnecessary reaction, it was Christine who opened the door.
She smiled warmly, then glanced down either side of the street.
Then she ushered him in. It certainly could look an affair he thought to himself.
“Where do you want to do this?”
She asked as she shut the door behind them.
“How long have we got?” Terry asked. He felt unease tingle all across his body, he was in the lion’s den. It almost felt like he was actually having an affair.
“Not long, an hour… How long does it take?”
Terry took a breath, his guts were starting to churn.
“Lets go to his room…”
The pair of them climbed the stairs and stepped into the room.
Mathew Junior was not waiting.
“How do we do this? I’ve never done something like this before…” Christine asked. She was subconsciously wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans. She was dressed a lot less glamorously than the other day. Jeans, a hooded top and her head bunched in an untidy bun.
“Take these,” Terry offered her the deck of tarot cards from his satchel.
“Shuffle them,” he instructed as she reached for them.
Her hand was trembling. What a pair they made. She was shaking with nerves and Terry felt as sick as a parrot.
She shuffled them with difficulty. She kept nearly dropping cards. Just as she got into a steady rhythm a card seemingly jumped from the deck and landed on the floor.
“Stop,” he halted her mid-reach to pick it up.
It was the High Priestess card. It represented Intuition and higher powers. It also represented secrets. This was her card.
It was a little known fact of the Tarot that should a card jump free of the deck, it was to be read. It was obviously something important that whatever divine power governed the tarot wanted you to know.
“That’s your card…” Terry whispered. She looked alarmed and just stared at it, as if it would grow limbs suddenly and attack her.
He plucked the deck from her. He then brought her to sit, her attention glued to the card the entire time.
“What does it mean?”
“It means secrets. It means something in your life is not what it seems…”
She looked even more frightened. Terry sat before her, he took her hand and placed the card into the open palm. Her stare that looked similar to a deer frozen in headlights didn’t flinch.
“Mum?”
Terry felt a plume of relief hit him. He slowly turned to his side and found Matty Jnr sat on the bed. He’d manifested exactly as he had last time.
“Is he here?” She whispered already crying. She stared at the spot Terry was looking at.
“He is…”
“Oh my baby boy, oh my baby…” the tears erupted.
“You’re back…”
“I need to know what happened to you Matty,”
“What is he saying?” Christine’s sentence was punctuated by sobs.
“Nothing yet,” Terry took hold of her hand and squeezed it gently.
“I don’t want my Dad to get into trouble… It wasn’t his fault…”
“You keep telling me that, but I have no idea what he actually did. You need to tell me…”
“Not until you promise he won’t go to jail…”
“I can’t make that promise. Especially if he killed you…” Terry decided to just tackle the subject head on.
“He didn’t kill me… It’s NOT his fault!”
“Then what happened Matty? What happened?!”
Matty Jnr faded into thin air.
“Shit…” Terry hissed aloud.
“What? What’s wrong…?”
“He’s gone…”
“He’s gone? What did he say?”
“He said he doesn’t want his father to go to prison, he won’t tell me what happened until I promise that…” Terry informed feeling a little deflated and frustrated.
Now some could argue that Terry could’ve just promised and then broken it later, possibly arguing ‘what could a spirit do?’. What they didn’t understand was if a spirit got cross there was no easy way to get rid of them. Poltergeists were not fun, for anybody.
So Terry was always careful to never break a promise with a spirit, he didn’t want to be haunted in retaliation.
“Baby, you need to tell this man what happened. Regardless of what happens to your father…” she addressed the room.
“…But what if it’ll break her heart…”
He was back, this time he was standing behind his mother.
“Sometimes hearts need to be broken kid, the truth is always better than a lie… Isn‘t it…”
Matty bowed his head and sulked back to the bed.
“Is he back?” Christine whispered.
Terry nodded, his attention not leaving the deceased child.
“It was my fault. I found it and I thought it would be fun… I thought I could sell some at school, make a little pocket money on the side…”
“Found what?”
“…I dunno. Cocaine?” The little boy shrugged. He didn’t know what the powder was called, or even if it was cocaine.
“Cocaine?” Terry repeated in surprise. This young lad had been selling a class A drug at school!? From under his drug-dealer father’s nose?
“It was popular, the kids liked it. I didn’t know what it was…” the young boy shrugged.
The teenaged nonchalance was a little distressing.
“So what happened?” Did Mathew Senior figure out his son was selling coke from under his nose? Hell, his son had been selling his own stock. What would a drug-dealer make of that?
“I got into trouble…”
“With your Dad?”
“It must have been a bad batch, I sold some powder to a kid. He got ill, he died…”
The lack of a sense of guilt was still disconcerting. This story was being relayed with very little emotional inflection.
“A kid died?”
“Yeah. His name was Johnny Richardson. I didn’t mean to kill him. Honest. I didn’t know it was different. Heroin… or something…” Finally emotion rose inside the teenager. His
face crumpled and ghostly tears filled his eyes.
“My Dad figured out what happened, and he lost it. He got really angry with me…”
Terry knew what that looked like.
“Does your mother know?”
“No, please don’t tell her!”
“So what happened Matty? What happened when your Dad got cross…?”
“…He… He punched me and I fell, fell down the stairs…”
Oh. Terry had a small pause while he absorbed it. A little flash of falling in slow-motion played out in his senses.
“Then what happened?”
“Next thing I know my Dad’s screaming, trying to wake me up. But he can’t hear me! I’m stood there shouting at him and he can’t hear me…”
“I kept shouting but he couldn’t hear me… Then I realised why. I’m fucking dead…”
Terry had nothing to say. He wouldn’t even know what to say.
He wasn’t even surprised at the swearing and the angry edge present in the young boy’s voice. It felt like words he’d copied, probably from his father.
“…I watched my Dad freak out. He blamed himself but it wasn’t his fault… I got him angry, I let him down.”
“What did he do with you?”
There was a long drawn out pause. A pause that the child disappeared for. Christine gently squeezed Terry’s hand, as if to gently tug him back to the world of living.
Her eyes were wet and shining, a little glimmer of hope flickering in them.
“I can show you where my body is…”
“I need that Matty,”
“But my Dad… He’ll go to prison… And he didn’t MEAN to!”
“But he hid your body Matty, he wouldn’t be in trouble if he told the police what happened. They would’ve understood it was an accident…” It was a lie, Terry knew full well the police would’ve used it as a perfect means to send him to prison. But Matty Jnr would never understand that.
“…But it’s my fault. If I hadn’t been selling the powder…”
“None of this would’ve happened, I know. But it has, and there has to be consequences… You have to be grown up about it now…”
“It’s going to break her heart…” The child stepped and gently placed a hand on his mother’s cheek. She was sat perfectly still, patiently watching Terry.
“Your mother thinks you’ve been abducted, she thinks there’s a chance you might come back…”
Ten Missing Children Page 9