3 Ghosts of Our Fathers (12 page)

Read 3 Ghosts of Our Fathers Online

Authors: Michael Richan

Steven entered the flow to see
what was going on. A young man sat with his back against the wall. He held a
long blade in his hands. He was sobbing, occasionally raising his eyes upward
as though looking for guidance from above.

He’s just lost his little boy
,
he heard Claire think.
Just a baby.

As Steven watched, he raised his
blade to his throat and ran it across his neck. Blood emerged from the cut and
ran down his throat; his sobs stopped. His head fell back against the wall,
looking upward.

Let’s try him
, Steven
thought.

He’s in pain
, he heard
Claire think.
You’ll just make it worse.

He’s lost someone
, Steven
thought.
Maybe he’d be willing to save someone else.

The young man disappeared from
view. In a few moments, he reappeared, holding his knife as before, crying into
his arms.

“You there,” Steven said to the
young man.

“What?” the man said, his head
still in his arms.

“You’ve lost your child?” Steven
said.

“Yes,” he cried. “He’s dead.”

“What happened to him?” Steven
asked.

“He fell,” the man said. “And now
he won’t move. He’s not breathing.”

“My friend can’t move either,”
Steven said. “He’s trapped. And I need your help to save him.”

“Leave me alone,” the man said.

“Your son is gone, but you can
save my friend,” Steven said.

“How can I do that?”

Steven removed the matter knife
from his back pocket. “By giving me a little bit of yourself,” he said, showing
the knife to the man.

The man raised his head from his
arms and looked at Steven and the knife. “You can go to hell!” he said, lunging
at Steven with his blade extended. Steven felt the blade enter him just below
the shoulder. He slipped out of the flow.

Claire opened her eyes. “Are you
all right?” she asked.

Steven inspected his shoulder. It
hurt, but there was no mark, no blood. “That felt real,” he said. “I think you
may be right. This is going to be more complicated than I thought.”

“Don’t misjudge the damage,”
Claire said. “Just because you can’t see a wound physically doesn’t mean you
aren’t wounded.”

What does that mean?
Steven
wondered.
The knife wounded me elsewhere? In the flow? Do I believe her?

“What do we do?” Steven said.
“These ghosts are so wrapped up in their own experiences you can’t really
appeal to them rationally.”

“We need one that will work with
us, that knows it’s a ghost,” said Claire. “Think back to the ghosts you met
here before. Which of them were cooperative?”

“Well,” Steven said, “there was
Dennington, in the north wing hallway. Appears only around midnight. He’s
trying to find his room, and he’s been cut or stabbed. And there was a little
girl, down here in the basement, who explained what was happening here to Roy. She
was the one who had killed her parents. Those two were probably the most
cooperative.”

“I met the woman in the pantry,”
Claire said, “and she talks a lot, and remembers people she’s met. But I don’t
think we’d get her to help us until after she goes out to hang her laundry and
gets killed. Sarah and I met a met a woman who was…”

Steven turned to look at Claire.
She had lost her train of thought, and was looking at the entryway of the room.
Steven turned to look at the entryway she was staring at, but saw nothing.

“What is it?” Steven asked.

“He’s listening to us,” she said.
“Over there.”

Steven slipped into the flow, but
the entryway still appeared to be empty. Then, as he watched, the faint image
of a man’s head emerged from view on the left, as though he was spying on them.
When he made eye contact with Steven, he quickly pulled his head back behind
the wall, hiding.

“Hello?” Steven said. “Are you
listening to us?”

“Yes,” came a faint voice from
behind the opening. A tingle crawled up Steven’s neck; the man’s voice had
something wrong with it, and the feeling he got listening to it disturbed him.

“You want some matter, like those
harvesters,” he said from behind the wall.

“Yes,” Steven said. “We do. It’s
to help save someone’s life. Would you be willing to give us some?”

“I would,” the man said, still
behind the wall. “As long as you’re willing to do something for me?”

“What’s that?” Steven asked.

“That man leaning against the
wall,” he said. “The man who stabbed you so viciously. I need to talk to him. I
know something important that will stop him from killing himself. It will set
him free. But he’s too obsessed to listen to me. If you will talk to him,
convince him to walk over here to me so I can talk to him, I’ll give you some
matter.”

Steven turned to look at Claire.
It’s
worth a shot,
Steven thought.

Something’s not right,
Claire thought.

We’ve got to get this matter
collected somehow,
Steven thought.
I don’t mind giving it a try.

Be careful
, Clair thought.

“OK, I’ll talk to him,” Steven
said to the man still hiding behind the entryway. “Why don’t you come out from
there so I can see you? It’ll make it easier for him to come over and talk to
you.”

“No,” the man said, “I can’t do
that. Whenever he sees me he becomes more hysterical. I need you to bring him
to me, and help calm him.”

Steven turned to look at the man
against the wall. He was in the same position he’d been in before he stabbed
Steven, crying with his head down on his arms.
How am I going to get this
guy to get up and follow me?

“You there,” Steven said.

“Leave me alone,” the man said,
his head in his arms. Steven could see the knife in his right hand.

“This man can help you,” Steven
said.

“What man? How can he help me?
He’s not breathing anymore.”

“He can help,” Steven said. “Come
with me, you’ll see.”

The man looked up at Steven, tears
streaming down his face. “He can bring my boy back?”

Steven didn’t know what to say. He
just knew he needed the man to get up and follow him to the entryway, so he
could talk to the man there.

“Yes, he can help your boy,”
Steven said, uncomfortable with the lie, but not knowing how else to get the
man to move. “He might be able to save him.”

A ray of hope flashed across the
man’s face. “Where is he?” he asked Steven. “If he can help my boy…”

“Over here,” Steven said, backing
up and turning to the entryway. “Through here.”

The man rose from his seated
position and stood facing Steven. The knife was still in his right hand, but he
didn’t seem angry or ready to use it. He stumbled towards Steven and the
entryway. As he approached Steven stepped out of his way and pointed to the
dark entryway. “There,” he told the man, “he’s right around the corner.”

Steven saw the look of
appreciation on the young man’s face as he stepped towards the entryway,
searching for the man who would help save his son.

The moment he passed the entryway,
the man behind the wall descended on him. The man grabbed the young man’s head
with both hands, holding him still.

Wait!
Steven thought.
I’ve
led him to a trap.

It was too late. The mouth of the
man behind the wall opened and rapidly grew until it was a foot in diameter,
pushing up and distorting his other facial features. His eyes turned yellow and
a row of large fangs appeared inside the lips, which were stretched so far they
looked like they would snap. In a quick motion reminiscent of a snake, the
transformed man attacked the head of the young man he was holding, snapping
three quarters of the head into his mouth. Steven heard Claire scream behind
him. The young man swung his arms wildly trying to get free of the creature, the
knife cutting through the air, trying to make contact with it. The arms of the
creature swiftly changed from human arms to long, bent legs, coated with fine
hair. They had crab-like pinchers on the end of them, and in a swift movement one
of them shot out and clipped off the young man’s hand at the wrist. His hand
and the knife fell to the floor.

Steven could hear the young man
screaming inside the mouth of the creature, which was pulling the young man’s
body to the ground. As it descended the creature continued to morph until it
looked like a cross between a lizard and a spider. Once it reached the ground,
it lunged forward towards the young man’s body, taking his head further down
its throat. The young man continued to thrash.

What do I do?
Steven
thought.
How do I help him?

You can’t help him now,
Steven heard the creature think.
But you’re welcome to take some of his
matter while I ingest him. It’ll take me several minutes to swallow all of him.

Steven’s mind reeled. He’d just
helped feed this man to this creature, and now he was invited to add insult to
injury by taking the man’s matter against his will.

You wanted the matter
, the
creature thought.
Take it, your share for helping me.

I didn’t know you intended to
kill him
, Steven thought.

He’s already dead
, the
creature thought.
I’m merely ending his endless cycle of torment. Doing him
a favor, really.

Looks more like you’re eating
him
, Steven thought.

Well, yes
, the creature
thought,
that I am. Doesn’t mean you can’t have some too.

Steven was disgusted. He turned to
look at Claire, who had turned her head away from the scene.

Should I take it?
he
thought to Claire.

I don’t know what to tell you,
Claire thought back.
It’s up to you.

Steven saw the creature lunge
forward again, its mouth expanding to take the young man’s shoulders. The
yellow eyes of the creature stared at Steven.

If I take some
, Steven
thought,
how do I know you won’t attack me, too?

I’m a ghost eater
, the
creature thought.
Your body stinks. If I were to eat you, I’d be retching
for weeks. No chance.

Why didn’t you just come into
the room and eat him?
Steven thought.
Why’d you wrap me up in your
attack?

There’s a barrier here at the
door,
the creature thought.
Placed here just before his wife killed the
child. I’ve been checking on him for years, the poor bastard, hoping the
barrier would dissolve, but it’s very strong. Stumbling across you two changed
everything. I’m very grateful. Please, take your matter. You earned it.

Guilt for participating in the
trap racked Steven. The idea of taking the young man’s matter this way seemed
repellent.

The creature lunged again, its
fangs rising out of the shoulders of the young man and landing squarely in his
mid-back.

You’d better hurry,
the
creature thought.
The rest goes down rather quickly, and if you’re not going
to take it, I’m going to.

The young man had stopped fighting
the creature and was lying still on the floor. Steven knelt by the young man’s
feet and removed the matter knife from his pocket. When he placed his hand on
the young man’s leg it passed through it, unable to make contact. But when he
placed the bottom edge of the matter knife on it, it rested on top of the leg.
He pressed and pulled the knife towards him, the bottom blade of the device
digging into the young man and scraping off part of him, like a wood plane.
Steven raised the knife and saw a small amount of ghost matter inside the tube.

I understand why the ghosts
were pissed about this,
Steven thought.
This is loathsome.

He placed the knife back at the
man’s legs and repeated the procedure, pressing and scraping several times. With
each scrape he felt worse. He imagined his own flesh being scraped off in this
manner, and it gave him a case of the willies, his body shaking in response. He
checked the tube again and saw that it was nearly full. He went down for a
couple more scrapes so he could fill it completely. As he finished the last
one, the creature lunged again and its mouth took in more of the body, the
fangs landing at the young man’s knees. Startled, Steven fell backward and
quickly exited the flow.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said
to Claire, who nodded and followed him as he walked through the empty entryway
towards the basement’s stairs.

Chapter Eleven

 

 

 

His guilt over how he’d collected
the ghost matter far outweighed the concern he had for the ghost in his
bedroom, and Steven found it difficult to sleep. Part of him wanted to leave
right away and drive all night back to Seattle, but he knew if he tried such a
stunt, he’d probably drive into a ditch on the side of the road. He was
exhausted and there was no way he could drive eight hours. Eventually the
exhaustion overcame him and he fell asleep. The wake up alarm came way too
early and he slept through it. When he woke again he found himself late for
breakfast. He hurriedly threw on some clothes and headed down to the dining
room.

The others were already well into
their meal. The table he’d dined at on his previous visits had been reserved
for him, Claire, Pete, and Sarah, and it was a good thing, as the rest of the tables
in the room were filled.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, pulling
out his chair and sitting at the table. “This is a nice change from the last
time I was here,” he said, motioning to the other tables.

“Thanks to you,” Sarah said,
passing him a pot of coffee.

“Claire tells us you were
successful last night,” Pete said. “Down in the basement.”

“Yes,” Steven said, looking at
Claire, who met his gaze but looked away. “I suppose we were. We got the
matter, at least.”

“Sounds complicated,” Sarah said,
picking up on the vibe between Claire and Steven.

“Let’s put it this way,” Claire
said, “I hope to never do something like that again.”

“It was for a good cause,” Steven
said. “It will save a man’s life. But I have to agree with Claire, I don’t want
to ever do that again.”

“What happened?” Pete asked
excitedly, anxious for another good story.

Steven turned to look at Claire,
wondering if he should tell them. Claire imperceptibly shook her head no.

“Trust me, Pete,” Steven said,
“you don’t want to know. It’s something even
The Ghosts of Mason Manor
would find too distasteful to publish.”

“Oh,” Pete said, a little
crestfallen. “Well, I’ll defer to your judgment.”

“Are you heading straight back to
Seattle after this?” Sarah asked.

“Yes,” Steven said. “I’ve got to
get back and see if we can resuscitate Daniel. There’s a lot more to do, but
we’ve got to try.”

“I hope you can,” Claire said. “I
always liked Daniel. He’s a
good
person.”

Steven thought Claire had
emphasized the ‘good’ in such a way to suggest that he, Steven, was
not
a good person.
She probably thinks I’m awful for what I did down there,
he thought.
Or maybe I’m just letting my guilt get to me and she didn’t mean
that at all.

“Thanks for
your
help,
Claire,” Steven said. Steven emphasized the ‘your’ a little to make sure she
remembered she had been involved in the previous night’s events.

“You’re welcome,” Claire said,
glancing up. “I hope it all works out the way you want it to.”

Seems neutral enough
,
Steven thought.
Drop trying to analyze her and move on
.

After eating a few more forkfuls
of omelet – Steven felt Sarah made a killer omelet – he set down his utensils
and thanked the group.

“I have to run,” he said as he
stood, swallowing a last mouthful of coffee.

“Here,” Sarah said, handing him a
paper cup with a plastic lid. “Some for the road. Come back anytime. And give
our best to Roy. And Eliza.”

“Will do, thanks,” Steven said,
giving everyone a quick wave and heading back up to his room. He quickly packed
and opened the door to leave. There was Pete, standing in the hallway, waiting.
He extended his hand towards Steven’s suitcase.

“Really?” Steven said.

“I told you you’d never carry your
bags in this establishment,” Pete said smiling, “and I meant it.”

 

-

 

Eight hours later Steven pulled his
car into his driveway and toted his suitcase into his house. Eliza and Roy were
inside, pouring over the book.

“Hello,” he said to them. Neither
turned to look.

“Oh, hi,” Eliza said, continuing
to stare down at the pages.

“How’d it go?” Roy asked, scanning
the page with Eliza.

“Looks like you’ve decided to
share the book with her,” Steven said to Roy. “Did she offer you money?”

“Kind of,” Roy said. “We’re trying
to understand these other two objects Daniel received from Sam. So far we’ve
not uncovered much, but you know this book, there’s always something to
distract your attention. She’s got me explaining petrahids.”

“What are petrahids?” Steven
asked.

“Never mind that now,” Eliza said,
“how’d it go with Claire at the manor?”

“Success,” Steven said,
brandishing the matter knife. He handed it to Roy.

“Good, it’s full,” Roy said.

“It was one of the worst
experiences of my life,” Steven said. “I can see why it’s contraband and I can see
why Jurgen was selling it to people; I expect people will pay to buy some
rather than have to collect it in person. It was unpleasant in the extreme.”

“Well, I’m glad you at least had
success,” Roy said. “Sam is a no-go. He only wants to get younger.”

“That’s OK,” Steven said, “I may
have a solution.”

“What?” Roy asked.

“Garth,” Steven replied. “He
called me for a status update while I was driving back. I explained to him
what’s going on and he thinks he can help. He wants to meet with us as soon as
we can get down to Olympia. I told him we’d try to make it down tonight.”

Steven looked at Eliza.

“Go,” she said. “I’ll stay here
with Daniel. He’s doing OK. And I can finish up the recipes.”

“All right,” Steven said. “Do you
mind driving, Dad? I’m tired.”

“Well it’s not an American car,”
Roy said, “but I suppose I can drive it since this is urgent.”

Steven knew Roy was poking at him,
but he resisted the urge to take Roy’s bait and get into an argument about
foreign cars. He just didn’t have the energy, and he wanted to save what he had
for the meeting with Garth.

“We’ll be back,” Steven said to
Eliza, “in four or five hours, depending on traffic. Let’s go, dad.”

“Just a second,” Roy said, walking
into another room. He returned carrying a large box by a handle. The box was
covered with a cloth.

“What’s that?” Steven asked.

Roy raised the cloth and Steven
saw that the box was actually a cage. Inside the cage was a rat.

“Where’d you get it?” Steven
asked.

“Petco,” Roy said. “The cage too.
Cheap.”

“Why? Why do you have a rat?”
Steven said.

“If Garth can help us, we may need
it,” Roy said. “I bought it on my way up to meet with Sam.”

“Why would we need a rat?”

“If Sam had agreed to the fusing,
we’d have needed a way to physically bring him here, to Daniel.”

“You’re telling me Sam would have
gone into the rat?” Steven said.

“It’s called possession,” Roy
said. “And yes, that’s exactly what would have happened. If Garth has found a
soul willing to fuse with Daniel, we’ll need this rat to bring it back.”

“You’ve done this before?” Steven
asked.

“Possession?” Roy said. “No,
never. Just read about it.”

“Great,” Steven said, a little
sarcastically. “Just make sure that rat doesn’t get out of that cage.”

 

-

 

Steven told Roy all about his
adventure in the basement of Mason Manor with Claire as they drove to Olympia.

“Claire sounds a little too goody
two shoes for my tastes,” Roy said.

“No,” Steven said, shaking his
head. “No, she’s not, I’m making it sound worse than it was.”

“She seemed a little smug when we
met her in Oregon before,” Roy said. “And that Volkswagen. I’ll bet she’s one
of those peace and love people. They always think they’re better than everyone
else.”

“No, you’ve taken this the wrong
way. It wasn’t like that.”

“Quit defending her.”

Steven knew he wouldn’t win this
argument either. Roy was always crass and abrasive. It was a miracle Eliza had
tolerated him being stuck with him overnight. Then again, Eliza seemed to get
along with everybody, and he knew Roy liked her. Maybe he went easy on her.

“Gotta hand it to you, collecting
that matter with the knife sounds rough,” Roy said. “I’m proud of you for
seeing it through.”

“I’m not proud of myself,” Steven
said. “I felt horrible. I tricked the guy, then I took it from him while he was
being eaten.”

“I’ll bet hippie Claire standing there
giving you shit for it didn’t help,” Roy said.

“She didn’t give me shit for it,”
Steven said. “She didn’t have to. It was awful regardless.”

“Everything in this world either
eats or gets eaten,” Roy said. “Sounds to me like the creature was right. That
boy can finally have some peace instead of slitting his throat all night long.
So it’s not as bad as all that.”

“You didn’t have to drag that
blade along his legs,” Steven said. “It felt wrong in every way. Like I was
stealing something from him by slicing it off him. Imagine if I came up to you
and cut off part of you.”

“The way you told it,” Roy said,
“he was a minute away from being swallowed whole. So what’s the difference?”

Steven thought about this. He kept
thinking of ghosts as people, but they weren’t, not really. The rules that
applied to humans didn’t apply to ghosts. And the only reason humans weren’t
devoured by other creatures was because they’d reached the top of the food
chain. Apparently ghosts hadn’t.
Maybe that’s just the way it is,
he
thought.

“Pete and Sarah doing OK?” Roy
asked, changing the subject.

“Yes,” Steven said, “they passed
along their best wishes to you. The hotel was full. It was strange to see the
dining hall full of people for breakfast.”

“Yes, that would seem odd,” Roy
said. “I got so used to it being empty.”

They chatted more about the manor;
it made the drive to Olympia go quickly. Soon they were pulling up at Tall
Pines.

They got out of the car and walked
to the main building. It was night, and there were lights illuminating the
landscape. It looked nice.

“You ever put me in one of these
things,” Roy said, “I’ll disinherit you.”

“It’s actually quite nice inside,”
Steven said. “I was surprised.”

“Yes, that’s how it starts,” Roy
said. “Mark my word: dis-in-her-it,” he said, emphasizing each syllable.

“As long as you’re well behaved,”
Steven said, “I can’t see any reason to lock you up in one of these. But step
out of line…”

“Bah,” Roy said. “You’d be back
every day wanting help with this, that, or the other,” he said, opening the
front doors and stepping inside.

Steven could see the change in
Roy’s face as he saw the plushness of the lobby. Roy was surprised, but he
wasn’t going to let Steven know. He wiped a scowl back over his face.

“What a dump,” Roy said, glancing
around.

They made their way to the
receptionist, telling her they were here to visit Garth. The receptionist
called up to Garth’s apartment and spoke with him briefly.

“Mr. Wilmon is on the third
floor,” the receptionist said. “Take the elevators behind me to the third
floor, and turn right when you exit. He’s in number thirty-seven. Please use
the bell to ring the door, don’t knock.”

“Why can’t we knock?” Roy asked
indignantly.

“Because many of our guests are
hard of hearing, while others are not. We’ve fine-tuned the bell for each guest
to be loud enough within their apartment so they can hear it, but not so loud
that it will disturb other neighbors, which loud knocking might do.”

“Well, that’s very well planned
out,” Steven said. “Sounds like you’ve really tailored things here for the
needs of older people, to make it comfortable for them.”

“That’s enough,” Roy said, pulling
Steven away from the reception desk. “Come on.”

They walked to the elevator and
took it to Garth’s floor. When they found his apartment, the door was ajar.
Steven opened it and walked in.

“Garth?”

“Come in,” Garth said from inside.
Steven and Roy walked down a short hallway and into a large living room that
was immaculately decorated. Floor to ceiling windows overlooked the bay. The
furniture looked expensive and the artwork on the walls made Steven feel he
needed to be careful what he touched. Garth was behind a bar on the other side
of the room.

“Come in, sit down!” Garth said,
waving to the sofas in the middle of the room. “I was just making myself a
drink. What can I make for you?”

“Gin and tonic,” Roy said without
hesitation. He walked over to a nearby leather chair and sat.

“You must be Roy,” Garth said.
“Steven told me about you.”

“Good things I hope,” Roy said.

“The best,” Garth replied. “And
Steven, what can I make you?”

Steven really didn’t feel like
drinking, but he didn’t want to seem impolite, and since he hoped Garth was
going to offer them some help, he felt he’d better stay on Garth’s better side.

“A vodka and water, on the rocks,”
he said.

“Coming right up,” Garth said, his
hands busy behind the counter of the bar. They heard the clink of ice as Garth
mixed.

“This is impressive,” Steven said.
“Very nice place, Garth.”

“Thank you,” he said. “You can
tell I was lying to you earlier when I told you I didn’t have money.”

“Apparently,” Steven said. Garth
came around the bar with a glass in each hand, giving one to Steven and the
other to Roy, who thanked him. He returned to the bar to retrieve his own, then
approached them for a toast.

“Here’s to what I hope will be a
successful plan,” he said, raising his glass. Steven and Roy joined him and
they all drank.

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