Ghosts

by Robertson, David A. ;

  “Where?” Eva asked.

  “I took Pam’s chart,” Cole said. “It didn’t say where, just that she was moving in two days. But, I don’t know if there’s anywhere else they’d get moved to, but—”

  “The facility,” Eva said.

  “Yeah,” Cole breathed.

  “Two days,” Brady said. “We’ve got to move if we’re going to do something.”

  “We’re doing something,” Eva said.

  “We’ll get them out tomorrow,” Cole said. “We’ve got to get our team together; we’ve got to plan it out. If they’re moving Pam in two days, it has to be tomorrow.”

  Eva stood up again and went to the window. She stared out of it and turned around as though somebody had said her name. Fast. Her eyes were wide. Intense. “We have to go tonight.”

  “Eva,” Cole said, “we can’t just—”

  “Cole, my dad’s sick. If he’s as sick as Elder Mariah, then who knows…” She covered her face, breathed, uncovered it. “…who knows if he’ll be around tomorrow. It has to be tonight.”

  There was no please. There didn’t need to be. There was no please, and there was no argument.

  “You’re right,” Cole said.

  “Yeah.” She sat down on the coffee table again. “I’m always right. Now, what do we do?”

  “Ummm,” Cole scrambled to think. Rubbed his temples. Tried to process everything. Come up with something. “Okay. You guys have to go get the team.”

  “What is this team you keep mentioning?” Eva asked.

  “If we’re going to do this, especially tonight, we’re going to need help,” Cole said. “And since we can’t text anybody, we’re going to have to go out and get them.”

  “Lauren and Dr. Captain,” Brady said to Eva.

  “You guys round up those two,” Cole said.

  “What about you?” Eva asked.

  “I’m going to have to get those files, once and for all.”

  “Cole…” Eva got quiet. “…that’s at Reynold’s house.”

  She knew all about Reynold. What he’d done to Cole’s dad, to Vikki. She knew Cole had gone off that night to kill Reynold, and for all anybody knew, for all Cole knew, he hadn’t been successful. Reynold might very well be alive.

  And if he was, he’d be at his house.

  “There’s security all over his place,” Eva warned. “You’ll have to get through them to get inside. And what if…what if he’s there, too.”

  “What’s going on?” Brady asked. “So what if he’s alive? Cole’s got superpowers. Literally.”

  Oh, go ahead and tell him about Reynold. You’re a team after all.

  “No,” Cole said, “the guards aren’t the thing. Reynold is. He’s Upayokwitigo.”

  “WHAT?” Brady leapt to his feet and looked squarely at Cole. “Reynold?”

  “I went out that night to face him. I knew I had to face him,” Cole said. “I thought I’d killed him, but you’re all saying that he might still be alive. So…” Cole got up now, and walked slowly to the door, put his hand on the doorknob. “…I’ll have to go and find out.”

  “And if he’s alive??” Eva asked.

  Brady went to the corner of the trailer, picked up the rifle, and handed it to Cole. Said it all with a look.

  Cole took the rifle, but placed it on the ground. Shook his head. “I don’t need it.”

  “Cole,” Eva rushed to the front door. “You’re not Batman. There are guards. There’s Reynold. You’ll need all the help you can get.”

  She picked up the rifle and handed it to him, but he wouldn’t take it.

  “Don’t be an idiot!” Brady said.

  “One rifle against how many guards? How many guards are there? Have you seen?” Cole asked Eva.

  “Lots,” Eva said.

  “Then that,” Cole pointed at the rifle, “will only slow me down. If Reynold’s alive, a gun didn’t kill him anyway.”

  Cole opened the door, stepped outside. Before he could walk down the stairs, Eva gave him a hug.

  “Be careful,” she said.

  “I’ll be back.”

  15

  WHO MADE WHO

  REYNOLD MCCABE’S HOUSE was a fortress, just as Eva had warned. The last time Cole had been there, he’d managed to get through two or three guards and into the house by arranging a movie date with Lucy. Easy. Yes, they had been ready to shoot him, but after Lucy confirmed that he was supposed to be there, there was no problem. Good thing, too, because now he knew exactly where he needed to go to find the files for Dr. Captain.

  But there was no easy way, now.

  Cole could see the house from the path he’d forged through Blackwood Forest. It looked like nobody was allowed in the McCabe residence, for any reason—because he was alive, or because he was dead. Either explanation seemed plausible. There were guards at each door and several around the perimeter, all armed with rifles and handguns. He could see two trucks, as well, housing guards in their cargo beds. There was one certainty: Cole’s secret was about to come to an end. There’d be no tree climbing. Too many guards to get around, and Cole was sure there’d be some in the forest behind the house.

  “I have a suggestion,” Choch said.

  “And what would that be?” Cole asked.

  “You could just turn around and do the break-in thing at the clinic and leave this whole McCabe business alone.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Elder Mariah did make you well all on her own, without the help of any silly medical files, you know.”

  “I have super healing.”

  “Fair point, CB. But don’t underestimate the power of traditional medicine. If she got well without the benefit of those files, why couldn’t everybody else? Potential plot-hole alert!”

  “It’s not just about that. Having those files may help us figure out more than just how to treat people. It’ll help us figure out what’s actually happening here. Isn’t that part of my job?”

  Choch shrugged, then groaned. “Fine, but keep this in mind: you ain’t coming back to life again, partner. Cat Man is not your superhero name.”

  “What’s the difference? Do you just decide when I’m resurrected and when I’m not?”

  Choch breathed in through his teeth. “Not exactly.”

  “Not exactly,” Cole re-stated. “Could you elaborate a little bit?”

  “It’s like, okay, if this were a Disney movie. Aladdin, let’s say. One doesn’t just arbitrarily get three wishes, they have to rub the lamp first.” Choch paused, perhaps waiting for Cole to react. “Get the analogy?”

  “Somebody…wished…for me to be alive again?”

  “Maaaaybe,” Choch said. “Let me just say, that my favourite game show is Let’s Make a Deal and leave it at that.”

  “Is that a game show?”

  Choch rolled his eyes. “Honestly, you watch too many crime shows. Expand your horizons. Netflix has everything.”

  “Eva.” It all made sense. That’s why she expected him to come back to life. Why she couldn’t tell him. Just like he couldn’t tell her. He spun around and grabbed Choch by the collar. Lifted him in the air. “You better not have made a deal with her.”

  Choch pointed at his throat and pretended to choke.

  Cole dropped the spirit being on his feet.

  “I can neither confirm nor deny that assertion.” Choch straightened out his mall cop uniform. “But to answer your question, I don’t cheat. You died. That was it, until…”

  “Eva wished me back to life.”

  Choch shrugged.

  “I’m warning you.”

  “CB.” Choch put his arm around Cole’s shoulders. “This is going to be a distraction for you, isn’t it?”

  “Can you blame me?”

  “No, and I suppose I can’t really blame she-who-shall-not-be-named, either. I mean they. Not she. Whoops. They didn’t break the rules.”

  “What rules did you give her?” Cole hissed.

  “You know, I p
romised myself I wouldn’t do this, and it does seem narratively convenient, but I need you to stay focused.”

  Choch raised his hand, locked and loaded to snap. “We’re in the endgame now.”

  “No wait, don’t—”

  Snap.

  Cole looked at Choch for the first time since the spirit being had arrived. He was in his mall cop outfit. He’d added flare to it. Buttons that read “Native Pride” and “Don’t Worry Be Happy” and “All You Need is Love,” and some had superhero emblems on them. Batman. Superman. Cole looked them over, but decided not to mention them to Choch, who, he figured, wore them specifically for Cole to mention.

  “Pretty cool though, right?” Choch asked.

  And thinking about them had been enough.

  “Sure.” Cole considered that he’d actually rather like to have the Batman button.

  Choch took it off his uniform and clipped it onto Cole’s hoodie.

  “There you are. A superhero button on a superhero. Meta. You know, maybe one day there’ll be The Reckoner buttons. After all, with merchandising rights, television rights…oh! Who do you think would play me?”

  “I’m not doing this.” Cole clenched his jaws, trying not to let the spirit being bother him. Cole had been doing such a good job. Head down, staying focused.

  “Personally, I want to say Steve Buscemi, perhaps, but then you’d get, you know, the Indigenous community up in arms, a white actor playing an Indigenous character. But, and this is the thing, I can look like whomever I want to. If you wanted to get a choice actor into a movie, just to sell it, I’d be the character to do that, amIright? I mean, I could look like Tom Cruise right now if I wanted to.” And for effect, Choch turned into Tom Cruise for a moment, then back into mall cop Choch.

  “In what world does Steve Buscemi sell a movie? And Tom Cruise right now unless it’s a Mission: Impossible movie.”

  “Boardwalk Empire? Edge of Tomorrow? Hello? Am I speaking your language?”

  “No, Choch, you are not speaking my language.”

  “See?” Choch slapped Cole on the shoulder. “This is us right now. You and me. Me pissing you off, you getting pissed off, me enjoying myself altogether too much, you wanting answers, which keeps me around…le sigh.”

  “Don’t say ‘le sigh,’ please.”

  Choch actually sighed instead.

  “The question is, who would play Cole Harper, huh? I mean, undoubtedly people will be wondering that. Whenever I read a book, I—”

  “It doesn’t matter!” Cole shouted, but caught himself. He looked around to see if any of the guards had been alerted to his presence. He repeated in a whisper: “It doesn’t matter. Shut it. When this is over, I won’t even have these powers anyway.”

  “Well, if you’re lucky, maybe I’ll let you keep them,” Choch said. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, CB, you’ve bumbled your way through some of this, but all in all, hey, listen: isn’t it about time the world got an actual hero?”

  “There are lots of heroes out there that don’t have superpowers. People like—”

  “Whoa whoa whoa,” Choch said. “We go for subtle social commentary around here, okay? Yes, we all love Emma Gonzalez, but let’s stick to supernatural mystery. Deal?”

  Cole closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Who says I’ll even want these powers anymore, if you even let me keep them?” he asked evenly, attempting to recapture some focus. “Do I get a choice? Shouldn’t I get a choice?”

  “Who says I gave them to you in the first place,” Choch mumbled like a pouting toddler.

  “What did you say?”

  Choch had mumbled so inaudibly that even Cole’s keen hearing didn’t pick it up, or he didn’t want to believe what Choch had said.

  Choch frantically looked at everything but Cole, like there was a fly buzzing around that he wanted to swat. He settled on looking up at the northern lights and refused to look down while Cole waited for a response.

  “Choch!” Cole shout-whispered.

  “Yes?” Choch feigned ignorance.

  “What. Did. You. Just. Say?”

  “Le…” Choch stopped himself. “You know, the easiest thing here would be for me to just rewind the clock and not even slip up like that. Not that I’d ever do that to you, CB.” Choch winked at nothing in particular. “The boss is going to be so mad at me…”

  “Don’t you do that to me,” Cole said. “Just tell me. You owe me at least that, and I’ve been through enough that I can take whatever crap you’re about to throw at me.”

  “Okay, well…” Choch said reluctantly. “Speaking of owing people things. Think back to the day we met.”

  Cole went back to that moment, ten years ago. He—

  “No, no, no,” Choch said. “Don’t actually think back to the day. Talk it through. Pretty please. God knows, we don’t need more expository writing.”

  “Yeah, I was just…” Cole closed his eyes to be there, to remember everything “…I was at Silk River, making that sweetgrass ring for Eva. I saw the sky light up. It looked like the sunset or something. I ran as fast as I could, and…when I got there, the school was on fire. It was just…” Cole started to feel his body shake, and his pulse quicken.

  “Go on, boy.”

  Cole looked down at his palms, at the scars he’d asked Choch to give back. “I opened the doors, went inside, looking for them, following the screams…the screams…”

  Choch put a hand on Cole’s arm, which was trembling. “I can calm you.”

  “No,” Cole said quickly. “Never calm this. I can do it. I’m okay.” In for five seconds, out for seven. “I…I found them, in the gym. I saw Eva’s shoes, under the wall. It had collapsed on her, on Brady, on…” Cole pictured Jayne’s joyous face, half burning. “…and then you were there.”

  Choch snapped his fingers. “That’s right. And then I was there.”

  “And now we’re here,” Cole said, “and why are we talking about it? Why would you make me talk about it? It’s always there, even when I don’t think it is. Every moment, like a picture. Things fade when you get older, but not that. Never that.”

  “And yet…”

  “What? Stop this bullshit. What?”

  “Tell me something, CB.” Choch scooted over to Cole, right close, thigh to thigh. Gave his trembling leg a quick pat. “How fast did you get to the school, when you ran there?”

  “What? I don’t know, I ran. I got there as fast as I could. The school was burning, my friends were in there.”

  “How would Robertson put this…” Choch thumbed his chin like a wise old man. “…was the grass violently whipping against your shins? The surrounding trees blurred like smeared paint? The—”

  “I—I don’t remember.”

  “Okay, well let’s try this: when you got to the school, however fast you ran there, how did you open the front doors?”

  “I…opened them.” Cole showed Choch his palms, as though the spirit being didn’t know about the scars. “I put my hands around the handles and pulled. I opened them.” Cole’s anxiety was quickly changing into something else, something he’d never felt before. He’d scanned his body for years, for the symptoms of his trauma, but he’d never felt this.

  Disillusion. Disbelief.

  “This is getting heavy, right?” Choch laughed hysterically. He’d undoubtedly shielded the guards from hearing at least him. “Sorry, go on. But talk, remember?”

  “I don’t understand why you’re asking me all of this.”

  “You wanted to know, CB. I just want you to figure it out for yourself because, you know, I do feel bad about it. Don’t get me wrong, it needed to happen, but still, sometimes even tricksters feel remorse. Somewhat.”

  “Why are you asking about running? About opening doors to a burning building?”

  “If you were any later than you were, your friends would’ve died. Your dear Eva, Brady. If you weren’t able to open those doors…”

  “They were open…they…”

  “Now
, you can think.”

  Cole was seven. Running up the steps to the school. The flames erupting from it, painting the world red. He saw his little hands wrap around the handles. He felt the metal burning his skin. He felt the strain of his effort, trying to open the doors, get to his friends, follow the screams. He saw…chains, strung from one door handle to the next. Thick, black metal chains. Locking the doors shut. Locking the kids, his friends, teachers, his mom, inside.

  Chains.

  “No…” Cole whispered. “It can’t be…”

  He pulled harder. His muscles burned like the fire raging inside the school. Steam rose from his hands. The chains broke. The doors burst open. The links clattered down the concrete steps.

  “How can that be? I…I couldn’t lift that wall…you gave me that strength. You…”

  “Can I tell you what amounts to a parable?”

  Cole didn’t answer. His mind was flailing. All he could manage was a nod, like he’d been startled awake.

  “Great.” Choch got into storytelling mode. “There was a boy, or girl, whatever. Let’s say a girl. There was a girl, and her father was teaching her how to golf. On the third hole of a golf course, there was a large body of water in front of them. Now, across the water, was a junior tee. That’s where the kids could hit from, so they wouldn’t lose their ball. So, the father hits his ball. It sails through the air and lands safely on the other side of the water. He’s ready to drive the cart over the bridge and go to the junior tee, when he sees his daughter teeing up her ball on the adult tee.

  “He runs up to her as though her life’s at stake. He says, ‘My girl! You can’t hit the ball from here! You’ll lose it!’ But his daughter begs him to let her try, so he relents. He says to his daughter, ‘Fine, hit the ball, but you’ll see that you can’t do it.’

  “Well, the girl, she takes a mighty lash at the ball, but it lands in the water. She picks up her tee, and walks to the cart, head down, shoulders slumped. Looking utterly defeated, you see. The father, well, he sees what he’s done. He sees what has happened. So, he calls out to her. He says, ‘My girl, get back over there. I know you can do it. Hit that ball over the water, and we’ll go for ice cream afterwards.’ The girl’s body language changes. She runs back over to the tee, sets her ball up, and takes another swing. This time, the ball lands over the water. It lands past her father’s ball!”