3 Ghosts of Our Fathers (9 page)

When Steven saw Jason, he was
immediately concerned. Jason was just an inch shorter than him, but thinner and
more muscular. He had blonde hair, blue eyes, and a dimpled chin that drove
girls crazy. Jason had always been a good kid, a mother’s boy, kind to everyone
and everyone liked him back. His success in soccer helped him with a
scholarship to the university and he always seemed healthy and fit. Not today.

Steven inspected the bruises on
Jason’s neck. At first he thought they might be hickeys but upon closer
inspection he could see they went all the way around his neck, even to the
back. Jason was clearing his throat often and seemed run down and tired.

“Tell me what happened,” Steven
said.

Jason shifted from foot to foot
while his dad continued inspecting his neck. “I thought someone was playing a
prank,” he said. “I was dreaming I couldn’t breathe. I woke up and found this.
I thought maybe one of my roommates had snuck in and strangled me as a joke.”

“This is no joke,” Steven said.
“Does it hurt?”

“Yes,” Jason said, “every time I
swallow, and when I turn my head to the extreme right or left.”

Standing behind Jason, Steven surreptitiously
dropped into the flow and watched the bruises for any unusual sign, any
shifting of the skin that might mimic the strange movement he’d seen on his own
skin. There didn’t appear to be any. He exited the flow quickly. The effect had
disappeared on his own skin after a short while following the attack, so it
might have already passed on Jason too.

“You don’t remember anything? Any
one in the room with you? A man? Glass?”

“Glass?” Jason said. “What are you
talking about?”

“I’ve had the same problem, the
last three nights. My sleep has been disturbed. But I woke up to see what it
was, while it was happening. I was attacked.” Steven pulled his collar down to
show Jason the bruising on his neck. “I believe the same person attacked you.”

“What?” Jason said. “How can that
be? Who?”

“The who and the why are long
stories that aren’t relevant at the moment. The main thing to know is that you,
I, and your grandfather, Roy, are all under attack.”

“Under attack? What are you
talking about?” Jason was looking at Steven funny, concerned that his father
had gone off his rocker.

“Let me put it this way,” Steven
said, stopping to take a breath. “An ancestor of ours committed a crime against
this man, or so he thinks, and he’s exacting revenge by coming after Roy,
myself, and you. Roy and I are working on a way to stop him. Until we do, this
is a dangerous threat, and I believe our lives are at risk. I’m going to need
you to do a few things to protect yourself.”

“I’ve already got a shotgun, Dad,”
Jason said.

Like grandfather, like son,
Steven thought.

“A shotgun won’t work on this
guy,” Steven said. “You’ll need to do a few other things.”

“What kind of guy won’t a shotgun
work on?” Jason asked.

How far do I go?
Steven
thought.
Do I tell him exactly what this guy is?

“You’re going to have to trust
me,” Steven said. “A shotgun isn’t going to work.”

Jason turned his head skeptically
towards Steven. He knew his father had never been a big fan of guns. Steven saw
the skepticism.

“Believe me,” Steven said, “if I
thought a shotgun would work, I would have already tried it. I wouldn’t
hesitate to use it.”

“I wonder if Grandpa Roy would
feel the same way,” Jason said, aware that Steven’s father was a gun
enthusiast.

“I’ve talked with your grandpa
about it. He agrees with me.”

Jason didn’t look convinced, but
Steven continued anyway.

“Both he and I need you to protect
yourself with some things I’m going to give you. The first is this,” Steven
said, pointing to the two Mason jars on the table between them. “Listen to me
and follow my instructions exactly. I want you to swallow two big mouthfuls of
this just before you go to bed. Set your alarm for four hours and get up and
take another two mouthfuls. You got that?”

“What’s it do?” Jason asked,
eyeing the containers.

“It’s going to make it harder for
this guy to touch you, to harm your neck,” Steven said.

Jason didn’t respond. He continued
to look skeptically at the jars.

“The other thing,” Steven said,
retrieving the rectangular object from his pocket, “is this. I want you to wrap
this against your arm using Ace bandages while you’re sleeping. It’s important
that it be close to your body and in a place where no one can take it from you,
like your roommates. Please don’t show it to them. No one should know about it
or the liquid, either. They’re the only things standing between you and this
guy until I and your grandpa can figure out how to deal with him.”

Steven caught himself using the same
euphemism he’d criticized Daniel for using.
Didn’t want to use the work
‘kill’ in front of your own son?
he asked himself.

Jason looked at his father.
“What’s going on?” he asked. “This isn’t you. I know you. You don’t believe in
this kind of voodoo shit. Grandpa maybe, but not you.”

‘Grandpa maybe?’
Steven
thought.
What does Jason already know about Roy?

“Would it make you happier if you
heard it from your grandpa?” Steven said. “We can call him. He’ll tell you the
same thing.”

“No,” Jason said. “We don’t need
to call him. I want to know why
you
are telling me this. This isn’t
you.”

Do I tell him now?
Steven
wondered.
This could go off rails so easily. I’d rather tell him when we’re
not in the middle of a crisis.
Steven decided to punt.

“I need to get back to Roy’s and
work with him on this, try to get it solved,” he said. “The main thing I need
to know is that you’ll do as I’ve asked. Keep the object safe and on you with
the bandage, and drink the protection.”

Whoops
, Steven thought.
Wonder
if he’ll catch that.

“Sure, I’ll do it,” Jason said,
“on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“When you get it figured out with
grandpa, you both tell me what was really going on. The whole story.”

Steven knew he couldn’t lie to his
son if he agreed. Jason wanting to know seemed the element he was most worried
about. Since Jason had put this option on the table he decided to take it.

“Yes,” Steven said, “we’ll do
that.”

“OK then,” Jason said. “I’m going
back to my apartment.” He slipped the rectangular object into his coat pocket
and looked at the Mason jars.

“Do not let anyone else drink
that,” Steven said. “It may taste like booze but trust me it’s far more than
that, and it’s difficult to come by.”

“I won’t,” Jason said. “I’ll hide
it from my roommates.”

“Come here,” Steven said,
extending his arms. Jason rolled his eyes but let his father wrap him in a big
hug. “I love you and want you to be safe. Make sure you do as I’ve said.”

“I will,” Jason said. Once Steven
released him, he took the Mason jars and headed for the door.

Steven pulled the car up to the
address Daniel had obtained from Garth. He, Roy, and Daniel stared out, looking
for the garage of Garth’s story. It was nowhere to be seen.

In its place was a small strip
mall with a couple of businesses. Next door was a church.

“Well, it’s been eighty years,”
Steven said. “What were the odds it would still be here?”

“Looks like they weren’t good,”
Roy said. “I expect the boy was forced to move, and he probably didn’t want to
move far. Ghosts never do if they can help it. Can you figure out exactly where
the garage might have stood?”

Steven scanned the strip mall for
numbers. “The number on this salon on the end is the same number Garth gave me.
So there’s a good chance it’s sitting where the house used to be.”

“Based on the story from Garth,”
Daniel said, “the garage would be maybe fifty feet from where the house stood.”

“That would place it either in
that pizzeria,” Roy said, “in the church, or in whatever is behind the salon.”

“I’ll see if there’s an alley,”
Steven said, moving the car. They circled the block, checking the spot from all
angles.

“Nothing behind but asphalt,”
Daniel said. “It’s either the pizzeria or the church.”

“My money’s on the church,” Roy
said, “but I
am
hungry.”

Steven parked the car and the
three walked into the pizzeria and took a booth. A friendly waitress with an
exaggerated lilt to her voice took their order and they discussed their plan.

“Let’s scan the whole place,
wander around,” Roy said. “Look for anything that might seem unusual. I’m going
to guess the boy, if he’s still here, likes to live under things, so look for
piles of stuff.”

One by one they rose from the
table and walked around, checking out the rest of the restaurant, the
restrooms, the back exit, and a janitorial closet. Roy stuck his head into the
kitchen. The others could hear him talking with the kitchen staff.

Reconvening at the table, Daniel
and Steven waited for Roy to return.

“Is he on a bathroom break?”
Daniel asked.

“I expect he’s trancing in there,”
Steven said. “I’m not exactly sure how we’re supposed to figure out where this
ghost might be from just visual clues. For all we know from just looking around,
he might be haunting this booth. A trance might help narrow things down.”

The food arrived as Roy returned.
The men chowed down on the pizza.

“Well?” Steven said between bites.

“Not here,” Roy said. “But the
church is a good possibility. Something’s in the basement there.”

Steven paused eating for a moment
so he could enter the flow. He rose from the table and hovered over the
restaurant. He could see nothing. Then he moved over to the church. He couldn’t
see anything there either. He left the River.

“You must have tranced to figure
that out,” Steven told Roy. “I can’t see anything in the flow.”

“I did,” Roy said. “And it’s well
camouflaged, let me tell you. That boy does not want to be found.”

“We’ll need to be in physical
proximity of him to interact with him,” Steven said, remembering his experience
with Roy in Oregon. It was easier to detect ghosts while in a trance, and
sometimes one could see them from within the River, but they would only respond
if you were physically there with them.

“Let’s finish this pizza and go
over there, see how the land lies,” Roy said.

Roy took one more bite and was up
and out of the booth, leaving Daniel and Steven to take care of the rest of the
food and the bill.

“He moves quickly, doesn’t he?”
Daniel said, smiling. “Barrels right in.”

“He’s the old man and half the
time I have trouble keeping up with him,” Steven said. “Be prepared to just go
along with whatever story he might concoct.”

They rose and left the restaurant,
leaving some cash at the table. As they turned to walk toward the church they
saw Roy already halfway there, headed for the back of the building. By the time
they reached the front of the church, Roy had already scoped out the building’s
exterior and met them at the entrance.

“Two exits in the back if we need
to break in,” Roy said.

“Why don’t we try just walking in
the front door first?” Steven asked.

“Just planning ahead,” Roy said,
smiling. They walked up a short flight of stairs and opened the door to the
church.

It was dark inside. The entryway
opened up into a chapel with rows of pews. In the distance on a dais there was
an altar and an organ. Light shone into the chapel at the far right, where an
open door let fluorescent light stream in. “An office,” Roy said. “Let’s try
there. Follow my lead.”

They walked through the dark
chapel and towards the open office door. As they approached it Steven could see
metal desks and filing cabinets. Inside was a small woman, rotund, with black
hair and very vivid makeup.

“Hello?” Roy said as he entered.

“Oh, hello,” came the reply from
the woman, rising from her desk and walking towards Roy. “How can I help you?”

“My name is Hill and these are my
associates, Mr. Youngman and Mr. Smith,” Roy told her, pointing out Steven and
Daniel respectively.
At least he left the ‘Henny’ out this time,
Steven
thought.

“Pleased to meet all of you,” the
woman said politely.

“I’m writing a book on historical
churches in the area, and these are my assistants on the project,” Roy said.

“Oh, how wonderful!” the woman
replied.

“You are?” Roy asked.

“Mrs. Peterson. Judith,” she said.
“Are you interested in our church?”

“Well, yes, I am,” Roy said. “It
looks to me like it might have a history that would be appropriate for my book.
But I have to tell you, I couldn’t find out much about it on the internet. So I
thought I’d come down and visit and see if someone might be able to help me
learn more about it, to see if it’s right for the book.”

“Oh, I’m sure the pastor would
love to have our church in your book,” she said. “Membership has been on the
decline I’m afraid, and anything that might help bring in more parishioners
would be very helpful.”

“Well, that’s fantastic,” Roy
said. “You’d be surprised how some churches don’t want to cooperate to the
extent that’s necessary in order to be written about in a detailed historical
account.” Roy gave her a big smile. “When was the church built?”

“Nineteen forty-eight, just after
the war,” she said. “Before that, this was just a residential area, and before
that, farmland. We’ve had twenty-two pastors here since it was built. Jeremy
Wayne is our current pastor.”

“Would he be available for an
interview sometime?” Roy asked.

“It would be a while,” Judith
replied. “He’s currently in Africa on a mission. We have an assistant pastor
who’s giving the Sunday services, but as I said there’s not many church members
right now so the pews are pretty empty on Sundays.”

“Why so few members?” Roy asked.
“This looks like a beautiful church.”

“That’s the question we ask
ourselves every day,” Judith said. “We’ve tried everything over the years.”

“So it’s been a problem for a
while?” Roy asked.

“Oh yes, this church has struggled
for as long as I’ve known it,” she said. “It wouldn’t surprise me if it’s
struggled since it was built. I donate my time to keep the office in order for
Pastor Wayne since he is such a caring and thoughtful man, truly doing the
Lord’s work. But keeping the church going has been difficult.”

“I wonder if the church has
records of membership?” Roy asked. “From the past? That I might examine for the
book?”

“Well, yes we do,” Judith said.
“And I’d be happy to let you examine them, but…”

She looked worried. “Yes?” Roy
prompted her.

“…but they’re down in the basement
and I’m afraid I don’t have access to that area.”

Steven watched the wheels in Roy’s
mind turning.

“Oh, it’s blocked off or
something?” Roy said.

“Locked up,” she said. “Pastor
Wayne has the only key. He left instructions to not go into the basement
without him.” She gave an uncomfortable laugh. “To be honest with you, that’s
perfectly fine with me. I’ve been in the basement twice, and it’s a little
creepy.”

“I wonder what information about
the history of the church would be down there as opposed to up here, where we
might peruse it?” Roy asked.

“Most of it is down there,” she
said. “So I suppose what I can do is take your number and have Pastor Wayne
give you a call when he returns, so he can set an appointment with you to
access it.”

“When does he get back?” Roy
asked.

“Next month, around the 20
^th
.
I’ll make sure he calls you.”

“Tell you what,” Roy said, “that
should work out fine. I’m planning on being back in the area at the end of next
month, and I’ll stop back in and see if he’s available. You’ve been very
helpful, Judith. I think your little church here might make a wonderful
addition to my book.”

Judith blushed a little, although
it was hard to tell under the makeup. “Well, I’m delighted to help. I’ll tell
Pastor Wayne you stopped by once he gets back. I’m sure he’ll be excited to participate.”

Roy turned to leave, and Steven
and Daniel followed suit. They walked back through the dark chapel, and as they
left through the main doors, they heard Judith say, “thanks again.”

The door closed behind them. Roy turned
to Steven and Daniel. “We’ll jimmy the back door. There’s no alarm system.”

-

They waited until it was dark.
They chose a door that wasn’t facing the street and was partially hidden by a
tree and shrubs, intended only as an emergency exit. It led to a short hallway
behind the dais. Steven used a flashlight to navigate to the end of the hall
where there was a door secured with a padlock.

“Great, now what?” Daniel said.

Roy placed the crowbar behind the hinge
holding the lock and pried the hinge out of the door. It left holes where the
screws had been.

“They’re going to know who broke
in,” Steven said. “It’ll be obvious, we were just here asking about the
basement.”

Roy produced a bottle of wood
glue. “We’re going to glue it back in place. She’s too scared of here to come
check anything before the pastor returns. By the time he gets back, this glue
will have set it back in place.”

Steven seemed skeptical but the deed
was already done. Roy turned the handle and the door opened to a wooden
staircase that descended into darkness.

“Here we go, boys,” Roy said.
Steven shone the flashlight down the steps and started down.

It was obvious the basement hadn’t
seen visitors in a while. Cobwebs were plentiful. It was half finished with
wooden floorboards and walls. Steven found a pull cord to turn on a bare bulb
overhead. The room was thick with dust.

“Let’s try to not stir up any more
of this dust than we have to,” Steven said, shining the flashlight into the
rooms beyond.

“Any idea where the boy is?”
Daniel asked.

“No, I just know he’s down here,”
Roy said.

They moved from area to area. Most
were filled with banker’s boxes, presumably filled with documents. There were
old wooden filing cabinets in some sections. One area had large boxes filled
with Christmas decorations. Eventually they worked their way back to the
furthest corner, where several boxes had been stacked haphazardly. They looked
very old and fragile, as though lifting them up might cause them to dissolve.
It looked as though no one had touched them in many years.

“Here,” Roy said, pointing to the
boxes.

Steven shined his flashlight on
the boxes. They were stacked in a way that created gaps between them. Some of
the gaps were small, others were larger, several inches wide. It looked dark
inside the gaps.

“Do we wait?” Daniel said.

“No,” Roy replied. “I’m going to
go into a trance. Let me see if I can get him to manifest.”

“You usually sit for this,” Steven
said, looking around for a chair but finding none.

“I’ll just stand this time,” Roy
said, removing his blindfold from his pocket. He handed it to Steven, who
wrapped it around Roy’s head. “Keep an eye on me,” Roy said.

Steven stepped back from Roy and
turned off the flashlight. There was very little light in the basement and he
couldn’t see Roy at all. He decided to turn the flashlight back on but keep it
concealed in his pocket; that created just enough light so he could watch Roy.
While Roy was in a trance it was Steven’s job to make sure he didn’t hurt himself.

The creepiness of the basement
began to seep into Steven as he stood next to Roy, waiting for Roy to make
contact with the boy. The ceiling was low, almost to his head, and it felt
claustrophobic. The half-finished wooden walls allowed images from other areas,
and it felt as though he was being watched from between the wooden planks. He
understood why Judith didn’t want to come down here.

After several minutes Roy began to
breathe more deeply. Steven glanced at Daniel, and saw that he was in the River.
He felt a little jealous, like he’d been left with the boring job no one wanted
to do. Still, Roy had to be watched. Dangerous things had happened to him while
he was in a trance, and Steven wasn’t about to let his father wander and fall,
or step into something sharp.

Roy emerged from the trance and
removed his blindfold. Daniel opened his eyes at about the same time.

“He’s afraid of adults,” Roy said.
“But he’s willing to talk to us. Daniel should do the talking.”

“Why Daniel?” Steven asked.

“Because I have a son about his
age,” Daniel said, “and I think he might be a fellow time enthusiast.”

Daniel approached the boxes. “Steven,
could you let a little more light into the room?” he asked.