Jamis Bachman, Ghost Hunter

by Jen Jensen

  “I’m going to Salt Lake tomorrow to pick up some new equipment,” Sapphire said. “Do you want to come with me, Sam?”

  “I was going to go help Sara with this church thing.”

  “Do you really want to do that?” Sapphire pushed her fork in front of her and spun it on the table.

  “No. He doesn’t,” Johnna said from the kitchen. “He does it out of guilt and obligation. It’s my dad’s influence.”

  “That’s actually true, so I won’t argue.” He paused, thinking. “Yeah, I’ll go. It’ll be fun to get away. It won’t be a problem with my wheelchair?”

  “Why would it?” Sapphire smiled. She turned to Jamis. “Do you want to go?”

  “I’m good. I’ve got so much to do.” Jamis stood to help Johnna with the coffee. In the kitchen, Jamis remembered touching her face, the impulse to kiss her, and kept her distance. Together, they brought four cups to the table.

  “What? Am I not invited?” Johnna sipped her coffee.

  “Johnna, do you want to go?”

  “No. Not at all,” Johnna said, smiling. The lights flickered. “That keeps happening. I need to call an electrician.”

  Jamis spun around in her seat. There was a flash of yellow in her peripheral vision, in the corner by the windows. No one else noticed.

  Chapter Nine

  Jamis pulled back the blinds a few hours before. She’d spent the morning capturing her thoughts about Stephanie and hadn’t left the hotel room. A snowstorm arrived and fell heavy from four a.m. until noon, and then abruptly stopped. The world outside was silent.

  The clock on the nightstand read two twenty-five p.m. She scooted down against the pillows and set the alarm to wake her at three thirty. Dust hovered in the sunlight from the window and cut a path to the end of the bed where a triangle of the quilt was bright with light. Jamis stuck her toe in the sun’s path, and then her whole foot, and drifted to sleep.

  She slept effortlessly. She was in the field again. Given her previous experiences, she didn’t try to move. Instead, she rested, present, aware of a sensation of infiniteness. Where was she? The woman was back. This time, she moved toward Jamis, her skirt billowing behind her. Her face shifted just beyond Jamis’s sight, as though she was standing behind frosted panes of glass.

  Jamis spoke. “Please come closer. I can’t move toward you. Who are you? Can I see you?” She moved closer, but was still obscured. Her fingers closed around Jamis’s wrist. The fog lifted. “You’re so beautiful.” The woman smiled, kissed her forehead, and then moved to leave. “No. Please don’t go. Who are you?” Jamis tried to run, but her legs buckled, as though gravity quadrupled. “Please. Tell me who you are.” She faded from view.

  Jamis willed herself to wake. The clock read three twenty p.m. Uncertain what else to do, she left the hotel room without a formal decision and found herself in the parking lot of Johnna’s clinic. Sapphire had pointed it out to her the afternoon before when they drove by. She’d obviously made a strong mental note of it.

  She also remembered Johnna declining Sapphire’s offer to go to Salt Lake because of her office hours. It was three fifty, which seemed close enough to closing time to drop in. Jamis pushed through the large door of the clinic, stopping just inside. Johnna was in the lobby with a middle-aged man in worn jeans and boots and an adolescent girl, who held a gray parrot in her coat. Jamis smiled. “I’m party crashing.”

  “Hi.” Johnna met her eyes and smiled. The response was simple and direct, but warmth rushed through Jamis, erupting in her chest.

  “I just wanted to chat,” Jamis said. Why had she come?

  “Sure. I’ll be done here in just a minute. You can sit.” Jamis took the chair across from her, crossing her legs. “Come on in,” Johnna said, and the girl and man followed Johnna into an exam room. Jamis heard the bird squawking in the room and enjoyed the low murmur of Johnna’s voice through the door. Jamis scrolled through social media as she waited, responding to a few positive comments, avoiding her trolls. She wasn’t in the mood. Johnna and the pair came out of the room.

  “Um, Johnna, what do I owe you?” The man stood awkwardly in front of Johnna.

  “It was nothing, Jim. Really. Don’t worry about it.”

  “I didn’t bring her to get somethin’ free.” Jim looked at his boots.

  “I don’t even know how to charge for that, and Gloria has gone home so I guess you just have to accept it, huh?” Johnna put her hand on his arm.

  “Did you ever get your fence run all the way?” Jim asked.

  “No. I didn’t. I ran out of steam on the east side of my property.” They stopped by the door. Stacey stood next to him. He put his arm around her shoulders.

  “I’ll come this spring and help you finish it up,” Jim said.

  “It’s a deal.” Johnna flipped the bolt behind them as they left and turned to face Jamis.

  “You are so cool,” Jamis said. “But where is Virginia?”

  Johnna opened the exam room door. Virginia catapulted toward Jamis, who caught her midair.

  “Glad to see where I stand,” Johnna said. Jamis set her on the ground, laughing as Virginia zipped around the waiting room, smelling for the bird. “Are you free for dinner?”

  “I am,” Jamis said.

  “Let me lock up and we can go.”

  “Where are we going?”

  Johnna stopped at the receptionist desk and turned back to Jamis. “Just come home with me. I’ll make something.”

  * * *

  “I’ve never had vegan mac ’n’ cheese,” Jamis said. She watched Johnna cook from a stool at the kitchen counter. “I didn’t even really know such a thing existed.”

  Johnna dumped three bags of vegan cheese into a saucepan. “It’s good. Different. But it works,” she said. “I think dairy is worse than just eating the animal.”

  “This whole ghost business and quantum states of consciousness stuff might get snagged up on the fact that we slaughter animals for food,” Jamis said. “I mean, do they ever turn into ghosts?” A piece of the non-dairy cheese fell from the pan and Jamis picked it up. Johnna stopped her with a gentle tug on the wrist, and then rubbed her thumb absent mindedly on the back of her hand, before letting go. Jamis viewed it in slow motion and thought about pulling Johnna toward her, to meet her over the counter for a kiss. It was the same impulse from the day before.

  “You won’t like it like that and then it’ll ruin your willingness to try my dinner,” Johnna said. Jamis dropped the cheese, embarrassed that Johnna wasn’t thinking about kissing her too. Johnna wiped the counter with a dishrag. “If they became ghosts, we’d be overrun.” Maybe she was because her gaze was downcast, movements jerky.

  “Maybe only complex consciousness carries over.”

  “What’s complex, Jamis? The mammals we eat share similarities with us. They have the same nervous systems. Have you ever seen a cow waiting in line for slaughter?”

  “No,” Jamis said. “I don’t want to. Should I?”

  “There’s a slaughterhouse on the other side of town. I’ll take you if you’d like. They feel fear just as we do. You can see it in their eyes. They stand in line and cry.”

  “I just became a vegan,” Jamis said. “I don’t eat meat, by the way. But eggs and cheese, really?”

  “I’ll take you to the dairy farm and show you the rows of veal crates.”

  “Okay. Stop. I give.” Jamis held up her hands.

  “You started it.” Johnna opened the oven and slid the pan in.

  “It wouldn’t take much. Honestly.” Jamis followed Johnna to the front room. Virginia shifted on the couch to roll into her lap.

  “What else did you learn about your poltergeist with Sapphire yesterday?” Johnna faced her on the couch. She’d showered and changed into a white V-neck sweater and jeans. The skin where the V tapered was really pale, like it never saw sun. Jamis kept thinking about the moment in the kitchen the night before and wondered if she should bring it up. She didn’t. Johnna didn’t see
m to want to talk about it.

  “The house was once occupied by a woman likely murdered by a serial killer,” Jamis said.

  “No way.”

  “I’m not making this up. We went to the library and looked at microfilm of old town newspapers.”

  “So that’s your ghost then? Case solved?”

  Jamis stilled, her heart raced. She didn’t want to hurt Johnna, but she felt compelled to tell her. “Her body was found on March 16, 1992.” Johnna shifted in her seat. “The actual date of death is undetermined.”

  “That’s just days after my mom and brother Jacob died. In a car accident. When Sam was hurt,” Johnna said. Her tone was dispassionate, detached. Practiced. Jamis recognized the mechanisms that allowed it. But despite her efforts, Johnna’s eyes darkened, and she pulled her legs up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them, and scooted back into the corner of the couch. She kept her eyes on Jamis, wary.

  Jamis touched Virginia’s toenails and rubbed her foot. She didn’t want to be responsible for Johnna’s sadness. But she was. Might as well continue. “I know. I saw the newspaper article.” Jamis expected Johnna to react, but she was silent. “I didn’t mean to. It just came through.” Johnna still said nothing. “I’m really so sorry. I wish I could unread it. I feel like I pried into your diary or something.”

  “You don’t need to apologize,” Johnna said, stretching her legs and arms back out, as if just now aware of retreating. “The timing is so strange, isn’t it? I don’t remember a murder around that time, but I suppose with so much happening…” Her voice trailed off. She turned away from Jamis and stared out the window. “Is this why you came by today?”

  “No. God no. I just wanted to see you.” This time, she touched Johnna, hand on her arm. “You’re not an investigation, Johnna.” Johnna accepted her reassurance with a slight nod. “Sapphire told me if I wanted to talk to anyone about it though, it should be you.”

  “Sam and Sara don’t talk about it,” Johnna said. “I really don’t either. I’m sure you can imagine.”

  “My mom died when I was eleven.”

  “She did?” Jamis felt Johnna’s compassion spread through her like a drink of warm coffee before six a.m.

  “It was just the two of us.” Jamis shifted and pulled Virginia tighter. “Overdose. She was addicted to painkillers. I don’t know why, really. I was too young. I didn’t know my dad. We didn’t have a lot.” Virginia kissed her chin.

  “She knows when you feel sad,” Johnna said. “She always knows when I am.”

  “Sometimes, though, I forget how she looks. Do you forget how your mom looks?”

  “Fortunately, we have pictures. She was really photogenic.”

  “I don’t have any pictures,” Jamis said. Through the windows, the blue of the sky turned bright orange and red as night crept toward them. Did she like Johnna because on a subconscious level they recognized each other’s wounds? Or was there more there?

  The oven timer buzzed, and Johnna jumped up. Jamis watched her walk to the kitchen. “Are you a vegan because you love animals or because you saw your mom and Jacob die?”

  “I think exposure to death at such a young age would make anyone oversensitive. Adverse childhood events, multiplied.”

  “I think the trauma of my mom’s death created space in my psyche. It’s how I do what I do. See what I see. Think how I think. High sensitivity, introversion, queerness, and trauma fused to give me a different view of the world.”

  “That actually makes sense.” Johnna brought two plates to the couch, handing one to Jamis. “Queerness,” Johnna said with a smile. “You’re not just gay. You’re queer in a lot of ways, I think.”

  “Is that good or bad?”

  “Certainly not bad,” Johnna said. “I like it.” She held eye contact with Jamis, smiling, and then turned away. “But not that you had trauma, to clarify.”

  “I sometimes doubt what I see, think, and feel.”

  “Mental illness and trauma do that,” Johnna said quietly. “It’s hard to learn to trust anything. I spent a lot of years waiting for the next bad thing to happen. Then I think I just kind of gave up trying for anything more than I needed…” She trailed off in thought, her gaze distant. Jamis wanted her to come back.

  “I used to see my mom every night.” Johnna balanced the plate on her knees and turned to face her. “I didn’t know if I was just seeing things or if my mom was really there, you know? I thought I was crazy. Then I saw something else, on a trip to Jerome, Arizona, when I was in college. At a haunted hotel. It was so profound, I got obsessed after.”

  Johnna took a few bites of food, silent, staring out the window. Her energy shifted after talking about her mom, and Jamis felt it. She wished it were possible to unwind time, go back, make it better. “I probably shouldn’t have brought up your mom,” Jamis said, addressing it directly.

  “No,” Johnna said, returning to her. “You had to, didn’t you? It wouldn’t be right not to.”

  Jamis thought that was true, but there was a fine line between a right to know and protecting people when you have the chance. Johnna’s reaction was generous. Abruptly, Jamis shifted gears. “Are you single?”

  Johnna finished chewing and turned to look at her. “Get right to it, don’t you?” Jamis shrugged, waiting for her answer. “Yeah. I am. For a long time. So long I barely remember it being any other way.” Johnna shifted away. “You?”

  “Of course, yeah.” Jamis committed to the course she set and asked, “You’re gay too, right?”

  “Yes, I am. Are you done now?”

  “Just being sure,” Jamis said. “Should we change the subject?”

  “Why? I was hoping you’d pass me a note.”

  “Pretend I have paper,” Jamis said. “I hand you the note and it reads, ‘Do you like me? Yes, No, or Maybe.’”

  “Okay. I have the note.” Johnna pretended to look at invisible paper in her hands.

  “Well? What’s your answer?”

  “I can’t find my pencil,” Johnna said, smiling. “You’ll need to wait.”

  “That’s fine,” Jamis said, leaning forward to set her plate on the coffee table. “I’m patient.”

  “No, you’re not,” Johnna said.

  “You’re right. I’m not. But I’m working on that too.” Jamis crossed her legs. “I have a feeling you’re worth it.”

  “Why are you interested in me?” Johnna’s question was direct, but her tone was soft, tentative.

  “What do you mean?” Jamis set the plate on the table.

  “I mean, why are you pursuing me? Sam showed me your social media. There are a lot of women there.”

  “I like you,” Jamis said without thought but with genuine emotion that wrapped itself around her heart and made her feel poetic and wish for words to better explain it to both of them.

  “Right,” Johnna said. “For the moment? The trip? The week?”

  “No,” Jamis said. “I mean, I hadn’t thought about things that far.”

  “I read some of your comments on Facebook,” Johnna said. “You’re flirtatious.”

  “It’s all good fun. I’ve not dated anyone for a long time.” Johnna said nothing. “I’ve really been focused on myself. We can compare adverse childhood event scores, if you want.”

  “I’m sure yours is higher,” Johnna said. Jamis shrugged. “I don’t mean to put you on the spot. It’s probably more my insecurity than your issues.”

  “I just like you,” Jamis said. It was true. She noticed her and thought every small detail was worth noting, analyzing, and holding close.

  “Maybe,” Johnna said, watching Jamis skeptically. “It’s just, I’m nothing special.” Jamis moved toward her, but she retreated.

  “Johnna,” Jamis said. “You can’t possibly think that.” Johnna watched her, gaze intent. “What?”

  “I don’t do things quickly,” Johnna said. “It’s been a long time and I don’t have a ton of experience dating. The gay scene in Sage Creek isn’t exa
ctly hopping. I mean, there’s only seventy-thousand people here in total.”

  “There’s no rush,” Jamis said. “I shouldn’t have tried to kiss you. In fairness, I’ve not tried since. Also, you put aloe on my arm.”

  “Is that an aphrodisiac?”

  “Obviously,” Jamis said, grinning. Jamis waited, unsure where the conversation was going.

  “Can we just get to know each other? It would be nice to just get to know each other,” Johnna said. “I mean, I want to, I just—”

  “Yeah,” Jamis interrupted, hoping she sounded nonchalant. “Johnna, it’s fine. We’ll get to know each other.”

  “Okay,” Johnna said, tension releasing. “I’ll try not to use any aloe.” Johnna stood to take their plates into the kitchen, returning with second helpings. Jamis watched her with new understanding. She didn’t say no, just hold on, slow down, make sure. “If you know how to work the Netflix thingy on the TV, we can watch something,” Johnna said.

  Jamis turned on the television and the sun settled behind the mountains. “Ever seen Babylon 5?”

  Chapter Ten

  Jamis turned in her sleep and fell from the couch. She landed on her side and scrambled up, falling back over as her feet tangled. She rested for a moment on her stomach, less frantic, before rising. The sun shone brightly through the front windows. She was in Johnna’s home. She must have fallen asleep, though she had no memory of it. The clock on the wall near the dining table told her it was after nine a.m. There was a cup on the counter and a note.

  Jamis,

  You fell asleep during episode three of that ridiculous show you made me watch. :) I decided to tuck you in. I hope you slept okay. Coffee in the maker. It might be cold so feel free to make a new pot. Just lock the handle when you leave. Thanks for a lovely evening. I hope you keep showing up.

  Johnna

  Jamis held the note in her hands and ran a finger over Johnna’s signature. Her handwriting was neat and simple, like her. She folded the note carefully and tucked it into her pocket. She never wanted to leave. She’d not dreamed.