Call Me Jane

by Ryan Maitland

  She has always been a sly one…

  I got my name change, and a crash education, with tutors and private schools. According to a test they made me take, I had a considerably higher than average IQ, which made Sarah proclaim that she knew it all along.

  Honestly, I didn’t pay much attention to the tests I took. I wanted to make Sarah proud, the first adult in my life whose opinion I valued, so I did all I could to ensure this happened.

  I spent several years with her as a foster daughter until the summer of 2017. I was sixteen, going on seventeen, and, as much as I loved Sarah, I was chafing a little. I wanted to go out on my own. Sarah, meanwhile, wanted to protect me for a little longer, but I whittled her down and she ultimately relented.

  The question then became where I would go. With the foundation money mostly intact (no thanks to taxes), I could really settle anywhere I wanted to without too much trouble.

  “If you want to hide, then a big city is better,” Sarah told me, looking over my list of wants and needs for places. “But I suspect that you’re going to stand out no matter where you go,” she added.

  My list of needs had the basics of cell reception and internet access, while my wants were a little stranger. My wants list included such entries as ‘non-nosy neighbors’ and ‘walking or biking distance to most necessities.’ I groused at my need to be within biking distance since my hematologist, Doctor Drake, via tele-services, forbade me from driving given my tendency to faint from overexertion, which meant no operating heavy machinery, which meant no driving for me…

  I wouldn’t learn to drive until a couple decades after synthetic blood had become commonplace. It took a special research grant to get them to figure out how to make Omicron blood once they were manufacturing the other blood-types by the gallon. Let me tell you, I pay through the nose for every pint I get! Still, it’s worth it for more freedom and mobility… Oh, I know that I’m one of the few people that doesn’t let the car drive itself, but I like being in control! Call me an old fart, but that’s just how I roll!

  Now, where was I? Oh, right! I was discussing with Sarah the potential places I would move to as I struck out on my own!

  “What about small towns?” I asked, thinking back to the tiny town I had… lived in (I can’t say grew-up in, since I didn’t actually grow-up until I got out of that town).

  “Small towns tend to protect their own,” Sarah answered, slowly, as was her method. “The trick is becoming one of their own. Small towns also tend to have the benefit of having neighbors that are more distant. Think of the difference between living downtown versus living in North Omaha…”

  The images I got at this thought were tight apartments in downtown versus houses with sizeable lawns in the more rural part of the city.

  “How can I be seen as one of their own?” I asked, liking the thought of people actively trying to protect me rather than just ignoring me.

  “Hard to say,” Sarah confessed. “I guess the usual methods of living and working there and making friends.”

  “I could do that,” I said, thinking out loud. “But where does that leave me?”

  “You’ve got quite a few options,” Sarah told me amiably.

  We looked over the options and I settled on a little town in Iowa. Looking online I had found what looked like a mansion on the outskirts of town that was much cheaper than it should have been. It was far enough out of town that the house had no neighbors, but still within biking distance to most of the stores. Another benefit of living in a small town is that most of the essential places (groceries and hospitals and the like) tend to be centralized in a small area, with the town growing out from there.

  The house seemed like a perfect fit.

  I called the real-estate agent and arranged a meeting and showing of the house.

  Determined to do this on my own, I arranged for the bus trip and appointment with the real-estate agent, leaving Sarah free to do her foundation work. She took on a sly look as I asserted this, needing only a ride to the bus station from her.

  I could only guess that she had been through this before with her other kids…

  I packed an overnight bag, but before we left for the bus station, I asked Sarah for something personal of hers so I could stay in touch in case she shut her phone off or I couldn’t get reception.

  “I don’t see that it will do you much good if the information’s only one-way,” she told me, not immediately dismissing the idea.

  “Um… about that…” I hesitated, feeling a little ashamed that I hadn’t told her about this before. There had been so many times when I wanted to tell her, when I tried to tell her, but I always chickened out. Up to then, Tommy had been the only person I had told about this part of my ability…

  I took a deep breath and continued, “I can speak through the connection, too…”

  “You can?” she asked, a little surprised.

  “Yes, I can,” I asserted.

  “Show me,” she commanded gently, taking off a gold bracelet and holding it up to me.

  I was a little nervous about showing her what I could do, but she never showed any signs of revulsion or fear at what I could do. The truth is I used this little trick I can do so rarely that it never really became an issue. At most I would get a faraway look when I held something of hers, but she never remarked on it.

  I took the bracelet she held up and tested the connection without going deeper. It wasn’t as easy as Tommy’s toy car, but it should still work well enough.

  “I’ll go to my room to show you how it works,” I told her, going down the hall and shutting the door. A moment later, I was sitting on my bed and in her head. “Ring, ring!” I announced into her head.

  “Ring, ring?” she echoed out loud. I could feel her eyebrow arching even as she looked around, searching for the source of the sound.

  “Something I did with Tommy,” I confessed to her.

  “Who’s Tommy? Someone from school?” she asked.

  “No,” I tell her, feeling ashamed again for keeping this from her. “He’s from… before… He’s the one that found out about the foundation…”

  “Oh! That makes sense, I guess…” Now that I was in her head, I could tell that she never bought my story about how I learned about the foundation, but never pressed me on it to give me my space. In her mind I could hear the phrase ‘teenagers will always lie to their guardians.’

  “I’m sorry for not telling you before…” I tell her quickly. “I didn’t want you to think I was… weird…”

  “Jane…” she tells me, her voice going sympathetic again, which was making me cringe. You can’t spell ‘sympathetic’ without ‘pathetic’ which is how I kind of felt… “This, what we’re doing, is not weird! It’s amazing! Why didn’t you do this at testing?”

  “Doing this takes more out of me,” I tell her, feeling I was back on safer ground. “I was kind of running on empty at the time…”

  “I remember…” she agrees, recalling an image from the recording they did for the second test. “What else are you holding back?” she asked after a moment’s pause full of consideration.

  “Ghosts are real,” I tell her, taking the plunge and trusting her with everything. “I can see and talk to them…”

  I didn’t need my special talent to hear the groan that came from her. The Magus foundation had been actively fighting charlatans that made the same claim!

  “I know!” I told her, rolling my eyes. “I didn’t dare tell the testers this! Ghosts are unreliable and can lie or withhold information! Plus! They’re not always around…”

  “Well I’m glad you didn’t divulge this particular talent to the foundation,” Sarah asserted, smiling. “You might not have made it past the reception desk!”

  “So, you believe me?” I asked, kind of amazed at this.

  “If it was anyone else, I wouldn’t believe a word of it,” she answered, still smiling. “With you, I’m willing to at least entertain the thought!”

  I decided
that I had made my point with this demonstration, so I came back to her in the living room. “Still want to give me this?” I asked, holding up the bracelet.

  “Absolutely!” she answered like it was a silly question.

  “If you’re wondering, I’ve never seen a ghost here…” I told her, trying for a matter-of-fact tone. “But I’ve seen them on our trips… I try not to pay attention to them…”

  “Because you worry others will think you’re talking to yourself?” she asked, fully grasping the situation.

  “Exactly!” I answered, kind of surprised at how quickly she got it.

  “Oh, Jane…” she smiled, shaking her head. “Will you be okay on your own for this?”

  “I think so,” I answered, feeling nervous. “I mean, this is just a four-hour trip to a house! It’s not like it’s a cross-country trip trying to win a million-dollar prize with no backup plan!” I teased.

  “True,” she acknowledged, nodding and smirking. “But remember, you’re not alone anymore. If you need help, I’m here for you.”

  “I know,” I tell her, relieved at her acceptance of me. “I will,” I add, holding back tears.

  When you can’t rely on your family, sometimes relying on the kindness of strangers is your best, and only, option…

  Chapter 13

  Peter

  This time I came prepared for the long bus trip. I had my essentials, namely my phone, a book I was reading, and some snacks which, naturally, included some jerky (doctor’s orders). I also had some spending cash, plenty enough for anything I might need. If I needed more, the local bank was affiliated with the major bank that was holding most of my winnings from the foundation. I also had enough clothes to last me several days, if need be.

  Summer in the heartland tends to be on the unpredictable side. Temperatures can range from cold in the morning, to blazing hot at noon, to chilly in the evening, with sudden storms that seem to come out of nowhere. The key is to dress in layers. For me, that consisted of a pair of comfortable jeans and a t-shirt with a sweater over worn over it. If I got too hot, which was a rarity if I’m being honest, I could take off the sweater and tie it around my neck or waist. I also wore one of my favorite sun hats, since I figured I’d be doing a lot of walking and the sun and I aren’t exactly on good terms, which is to say that I liked the sun, but the sun didn’t seem to like me very much. I was still on the pale side, though no longer skeletal, and I tended to burn easily. The sun hat was an added layer of protection.

  Sarah dropped me off at the main terminal. I found the bus I needed and boarded with my small bag over one shoulder. I took an empty seat, getting no more scrutiny than anyone else, which was a refreshing change for me, given my experience with my last bus trip. I settled in for a long ride by pulling out my book after checking that my backup book was still packed.

  The trip was uneventful, this time without a ghostly presence, and when we were about an hour away from the station, I called up the real-estate agent, let’s call her Beth, to let her know that I would be arriving at the bus station, so she could meet me and give me a lift to show me the house, telling her to look for the girl with the sunhat. With that done, I started getting anxious. This was a big step, but I had a safety net in place this time, so even if it all went wrong, I’d still be okay.

  I disembarked in Iowa City and walked to the front of the terminal, looking for someone that might fit the voice I had been speaking with on the phone, but not finding them.

  “Jane?” a woman in a pink skirt with matching purse, shoes, and top asked me. She was wearing low-heeled shoes and had sensible, shoulder-length, hair held in place with a pink hair barrette. Her entire ensemble was a mass of pink and I hoped this wasn’t the fashion for the town.

  “Beth?” I asked, confirming my own identity.

  “Wow! You’re younger than I thought you’d be!” she proclaimed, all smiles.

  “Is that a problem?” I asked, feeling nervous around her.

  “Not at all!” she said, looking a little flustered. “I’m just not used to showing a house to one so young! Are you previewing the house for your mom?”

  “Um, no…” I hesitated, not sure how much to tell her. “I’ll be the one buying the house…”

  “Wow!” she repeated, clearly not knowing what to do with me. “That’s amazing to be venturing out on your own at your age!”

  “Um, thanks?” I answered her, not meaning to sound sarcastic, I swear, but knowing it would probably come off as sarcastic because, according to Sarah, all teenagers are fluent in sarcasm.

  “Shall we go see the house?” she asked, clearly desperate to get out of this uncomfortable situation. To be fair, so was I…

  She led me to her car, a mid-size red sedan, and I got into the passenger seat, with my bag in my lap, as we set off to a surprisingly underpriced house. Beth talked about the house the entire trip, calling it a ‘Victorian mini-mansion’ and calling it a ‘lovely fixer-upper’ with ‘a lot of potential’ that I only paid half-attention to as I took in the scenery. Really, once you get out of the larger cities, the scenery tends to be a whole lot of nothing, with swaths of rolling grasslands, fields of tall vegetation of some kind, and the odd billboard or two. It was kind of hypnotic.

  We finally drove into a small town with one main road before pulling up to a surprisingly large Victorian house, given the asking price of fifty-thousand dollars. The house was three-stories tall, with a window in the stone base showing it also had a basement, which I knew from personal experience was a must in this part of the nation. There was a small tower on the uppermost floor that looked like it might have been stuck on as an afterthought. The house was painted in pale green with white trim, though the paint was worn in areas. The front of the house was covered in windows, most of which had jagged holes in them. There was an attached porch with an overhang that had collapsed on one side sometime in the past.

  I guess this is what Beth meant by a ‘fixer-upper’… Still, for the price she was asking, I could spend double that to get the house presentable and be able to sell it for so much more, if I wanted…

  Not that I did… Flipping houses was a booming business, at least on reality TV, but I had no need for such monetary ventures. I just wanted to get the place live-able and then, you know, live in it!

  Beth pulled up to the road just outside the gravel driveway.

  “Why aren’t you pulling into the drive?” I asked, worried about the long walk to the house. As well-fed as I was, I still got winded, just not as easily as I did before. I could probably make it up the drive and into the house before I needed to take a moment to catch my breath, but if I walked up the drive and around the perimeter of the house, I’d need to sit down to recover.

  These are the kinds of considerations one must take when you’re always a pint or two short…

  Sarah hesitated, looking worried and I could see the lie forming in her head. “I wanted to show you this lovely drive!” she finally announced.

  “What’s the real reason?” I asked, giving her a stern glare.

  Beth gave a loud, long, weary sigh before she answered, “There are some that believe the house is… haunted.”

  “Oh, is that all?” I asked, relieved that it was something so minor. I’ve lived with ghosts before, so it was no big deal.

  Beth looked surprised at my indifference to the news, took a moment to cover her surprise, then led the way up the drive.

  Inside the house, I saw that it was in marginally better shape than the outside. There was peeling wallpaper, sure, but the walls and stairs were all intact and in decent shape. There were bugs, sure, and maybe a few… other wildlife, but some cleaning and restoration should take care of those.

  As Beth was showing me the large dining room, with the equally large, long, table in the middle of it, I heard odd sounds coming from the upper floors. There were creaks, groans, and a crash as something fell to the floor, startling Beth more than it did me.

  “Don’t worry about t
hose sounds,” Beth assured me, sounding shaky. “It’s an old house that really just needs some love. Once you get it fixed up, it’ll be a beautiful house!”

  And then I heard laughter…

  Yep, this house really was haunted!

  “Would it be okay if I used the bathroom?” I asked Beth. “It was a long trip…” I added by way of explanation.

  “Sure,” she answered. “There’s one just up these stairs. Here, I’ll show you.”

  “That’s okay!” I nearly shrieked, as I got a flashback of Billi staring at me as I peed. “I’m sure I can find it. Plus, I’d like to do a little exploring on my own. I promise not to break anything!” The lies came easily as I watched Beth go from alarmed, to skeptical, to mollified.

  “I’ll just wait here, then,” she smiled at me. “If you need anything or have any questions, just yell, okay sweetie?”

  “Okay,” I assured her before making my way up to the second floor.

  Victorian houses have a separate room for different uses. Rather than have a few special rooms (like a kitchen and bathroom) along with generic rooms that can either be used as bedrooms or for storage, like modern houses, the rooms within a Victorian home are all specialized to their own purposes. This house featured a large library on the second floor that was next to another room that might have been a den or smoking room of some sort. The crashes seemed to have come from the library as I saw several books lying flat on the floor in front of a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf.

  “Show yourself!” I hissed to the room, not wanting Beth to overhear.

  A moment later, a small boy of maybe five or six appeared, floating, in front of me. I think he had been hiding in one of the bookshelves. He was wearing grey slacks, red suspenders, and a green shirt. He had light brown hair that matched his angry eyes. I could see one or two freckles on his cheeks as he pouted at me, hands on his hips.

  “And what’s your name little boy?” I asked him, pointedly staring at him to let him know I could see him.

  “You can see me?” he asked, looking totally surprised.