Stalking Shadows

2009-06-01T00:01:00.039-04:00

Welcome!

Stalking Shadows is the continuing adventures of Mary, the high school girl who hears ghosts. Mary was first introduced in Scary Mary. If you haven't read Scary Mary, I recommend that you read that story first. Don't worry, it isn't very long. If you have read it, jump into Stalking Shadows. Everyone's back for this second installment. Even Chowder, the ghost dog.

The ebook version is available for purchase at Smashwords, iTunes, Amazon, and Barnes and Noble. The ebook version is updated and greatly revised. The version that is presented here is the rough draft version. The story is still basically the same, but the text is much improved in the ebook version. I will add links to the major retailers as they become available. It'll be just .99 at all locations.

As always, comments are welcome. An account is not required. Thanks for stopping by!

Chapter 1

WARNING: Comments may contain spoilers!

Chapter 1

2009-05-31T00:00:00.000-04:00

Boy Troubles
Mary was in a dimly lit hospital room. She didn’t know how she’d gotten there, seeing how there weren’t any doors or windows, not even an air vent, but she really wanted to leave. Maybe she’d teleported? Where was her communicator to yell at Scottie to get her out of there? She began patting down her clothes for the erstwhile communicator. She couldn’t have left without it. Wherever it was that she’d left.

“Will you pay ATTENTION!”

No, she wasn’t going to pay attention. She would pay to leave, though she didn’t seem to have any money along with the no communicator. There had to be a way out of there. If she hadn’t teleported in, how had she gotten there? The only other thing she could think was that she’d died and gone to Hell, but had she really been so bad as to get stuck with Vicky for eternity?

“Oh, like being stuck with you would be heavenly.”

Mary turned to the hospital bed in surprise. Being stuck with a mind-reading Vicky had to be another level deeper in Hell.

Vicky glowered at her. It was clear she’d heard that thought too. “What am I doing here?” she asked aloud.

“I’ve been trying to tell you!”

Mary waited for her to continue. Vicky sat in a hospital bed with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. An IV and sensors hung off her arms and chests, but she didn’t look sick or hurt. Maybe she was in for a psych consult.

“Oh, haha. Very funny.”

She couldn’t help smirking but carefully schooled her voice to sound polite when she repeated, “What am I doing here, Vicky?”

Vicky crossed her arms tighter. “Because I need your help, but don’t know not how to say it. I don’t know any of that hocus pocus lingo.”

“Hocus pocus lingo?” Mary was getting exasperated. Vicky had been going on and on about needing her help with something but not being able to say what, and considering she didn’t even like Vicky, she really didn’t know why she should care.

“Okay, here’s the deal, I’m in a coma, and I need your help because there’s something here that’s trying to get me. I don’t know what, but it’s like spooky weird, and you’re the queen of spooky weird, so you’re the only one who can help me.”

“Spooky weird?” The way Vicky said it made it sound like crap found on the bottom of her shoe.

“Yes, and it’s trying to get me. So bring a Ouija board or something and get rid of it!”

“Whatever, look up coma in the dictionary. Being awake and talkative is not comatose.”

“Get a clue! We’re both unconscious. This is a dream.”

No, this was a nightmare. Help Vicky? What the hell? Mary went over to the wall and began kicking it. She was busting out. No more waiting for Scottie to beam her up, no more stewing in hell, no more talking to Vicky. “What are you doing?”

“Leaving. Please don’t follow me.”

Vicky thrashed about in her bed. It made her look like a landed fish. “I don’t like this any more than you do, but who else can help me?”

She kept kicking at the wall. Nothing was happening. Her shoes weren’t even scuffing it. She stopped in frustration. Through gritted teeth, she asked, “Can you describe the spooky weirdness?” Maybe if she let her subconscious get whatever this was over with, then she’d get back to her regularly scheduled dream of purple walruses lip-syncing Queen songs. The way their whiskers jumped up and down was hypnotic.

“I don’t know. I’m in a coma, remember? I just feel this chill, and it’s like something is pulling on me. I know whatever it is, isn’t normal. It’s evil.”

“And you want me to get rid of it?”

“You or Buffy the Vampire Slayer if you have her number. Ooh, is Buffy real? Or maybe Angel? I’d much rather have a big handsome vampire working on this.”

Mary started looking for something to kill Vicky with. There was nothing obvious. If this were a dream, she should be able to think of something and have it appear. She closed her eyes and imagined a guillotine. A nice, big guillotine. When she opened her eyes, there was no guillotine, but Vicky was staring at her with disdain. “You’re the one who needs a psych consult.”

Mary wanted to scream. Being stuck in a room with her least favorite person without any way to escape was maddening. She’d played nice. She let Vicky tell her about the spooky weirdness. Where was the door?

“Well, Mary, if you bothered to open your eyes, you’d know.” Mary looked over at Vicky in confusion. She wasn’t the one who’d spoken.

“Open your eyes, Mary. Time to wake up.”

She blinked. The room warped and wavered.

“You better come by the hospital!” Vicky shouted through the distortion.

She blinked some more. “Wake up, Mary. Open your eyes. I made French toast.”

She opened her eyes and looked at Gran in relief. “Thank God, I thought that dream would never end.”

Gran grinned as she folded back her blankets. “What was the dream about?”

“This girl from school, who I hate, was insisting I had to help her with something. It was awful. I was trapped.”

“Well, it’s morning now. Get dressed and let’s go have something to eat.”

Mary eagerly slid out of bed. She’d have to have a long talk with herself before she fell asleep again. Nightmares of Vicky were just uncalled for. She saw enough of the vapid cheerleader when she was awake.

* * *

Mary closed her locker with a preoccupied air. She was debating whether to fake sick and go home or suffer out the rest of the day. It was only TAB, the fifteen minute break between first and second period. She usually didn’t start thinking about faking nausea until third period. It was going to be a long day.

She turned to head to class and walked straight into someone. “Sheesh, could you move?” she said.

“Hey Mary, how’re you doing?” Mary forgot her annoyance when she saw who she’d walked into. Kyle wasn’t exactly a friend, but she didn’t dislike him either. He had a bit of a hero worship thing for her, which well, she really liked, and couldn’t bring herself to squelch. The fact that a guy on the wrestling team looked up to her really helped her ego.

“I’m fine.” She was a little flummoxed by Kyle’s sudden interest in her well being. Sure, the big lug looked up to her, but he usually kept away from her. She made the other wrestlers uneasy.

He blinked and looked at her a bit longer.

“What?”

“You haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?”

Kyle slouched his shoulders and rubbed his hand over his buzz-cut head. When his mouth twisted into a grimace, she felt her own mouth mirror the twist. She braced herself for the bad news. Had Rachel gotten expelled? Or was the school switching to uniforms? Compulsory pep rallies? What?

“Cy and Vicky were in a car accident.”

“Is he okay?”

Kyle gave her a little rueful grin. He knew how she felt about Vicky. The whole school district knew how she felt about Vicky ‘The Hickey’ Neilson. Her nightmare flittered up in her mind. Weird. She’d dreamed about Vicky in the hospital, and now she’d been in an accident.

“He broke a collar bone and dislocated his shoulder, but he’ll be all right. He was discharged from the hospital yesterday.”

“When was the accident?”

“Saturday.”

“Huh.” It was Monday. She tried not to feel disappointment at being left out of the news for so long. Cy wasn’t her boyfriend, but she couldn’t believe he hadn’t called her. She’d thought they were friends with the possibility of more in the future.

“I can’t believe he didn’t call you.”

Having Kyle echo her thoughts, snapped Mary out of her gloom. “You said he’s fine, right? He probably thought it was no big deal.”

“His arm is in a sling, and he has broken bones.”

“Bones mend. Slings are removable,” she said, not meeting his eyes. She really wished he would shut up and go away.

“Vicky’s in a coma.”

That jerked back her head up. “What?”

“She’s been a coma since the accident. She’s not on life support, but she can’t wake up. I heard she may not wake up for a while.”

“Huh.” Mary felt goose bumps form on her arms. Her dream. She mulled that over. Before this news, the fantasy of Vicky being in a coma would’ve made her smile whimsically. The reality of Vicky in a coma didn’t give her any sense of whimsy.

“Yeah, Cy’s been sitting with her. He feels responsible. He was the one driving the car, but it wasn’t his fault. Another car hydroplaned across the road and hit them head on. They were both wearing their seat belts, but the car rolled, and well, they both got hurt pretty bad. The SUV’s totaled.”

“God.” Mary shivered. She hoped the SUV hadn’t landed on its roof. The sedan had. She’d been so confused. Mom had told her everything would be okay and not to be scared, only problem was Mom’s lips hadn’t moved. She and Dad hadn’t been breathing. “Were the people in the other car hurt?”

Kyle shook his head. “Not bad, they only had bumps and bruises. The police are going to charge them with reckless driving or something.”

Mary looked at the hallway floor. This was a lot to process. “Mary, there’s something else.”

“They were on a date,” she said. She glanced up for confirmation. His face was pinched, but he nodded. She’d known Vicky was interested in Cy, and they’d been hanging out some. She hadn’t known it had progressed that far.

“Thanks for telling me, Kyle.”

He gave her a nod and touched her arm. “If you need updates, just ask.”

She gave him a tiny smile. “Thanks.”

The bell for class sounded. She needed to head to second period. It felt like there was a pit in her stomach. Not like a gaping hole, but like a fruit pit. It was round, hard, and had a sharp point that poked at her. She wanted to throw it up.

Cy and she had gone on one date that had ended with Vicky crashing it, him yelling at Mary, and the whole school whispering that she was some kind of witch. Things had died down some since then. It had become old news, but she and Cy had never hung out outside of school again. He’d eaten lunch with her a couple of times, and they still sat together in English class, but that was it. She knew Vicky had been pursuing him. She’d made her interest in him well known, but Mary hadn’t thought he would really take the cheerleader seriously. They’d bonded over trash talking Vicky in the first place. It made her angry that he’d finally bent to the popular girl’s attention.

He’d been the only boy in school who’d ever shown any interest in her, and she’d liked him. Now he was hanging out at the hospital bedside of Vicky. The pit poked her.

* * *
“How you doing?” Rachel asked.

Mary squinted up and gave the best plastic smile she could muster.

“Geez, that bad?” Mary turned her head away and shrugged.

Rachel dumped her book bag and sat down across from her on the grass. It was lunch time, and the girls were at their usual spot on the school lawn. The sun felt nice and warmed them, though there was a hint of autumn chill in the air. Other students were scattered about sitting in clumps as well.

Mary dug out her lunch bag. In a flat voice, she said, “Vicky’s in a coma. Yay.”

“How’d you hear?”

“Kyle told me. What have you heard?”

“That Cy was driving Vicky home from a movie when a car crashed into them. Their car rolled, and Cy got a broken collar bone and a dislocated shoulder, and Vicky’s in a coma.”

“I wonder what movie they went to see.” Mary didn’t know if her interest was ghoulish or pathetic. She bit her tongue to keep herself from wondering aloud if they’d gotten two popcorns or one to share. She’d shared popcorn with Cy when she’d been at his house.

“That’s not important.”

Mary looked at her. She must not have looked good because Rachel lolled her head back and growled in frustration. “You cannot let this bother you. It was one stupid date.”

“One stupid date that I know of. Have they been dating? Did you know they were going out?”

“Yes, of course, I know because I’ve been secretly stalking Vicky all this time. I have a small shrine to her in my closet. Every night, I burn bubblegum incense and cuddle a Kleenex she once sneezed into while I photoshop her picture onto the covers of Glamour and Vogue.”

Mary slumped and picked at her sandwich, tearing off small pieces of crust and throwing them into the grass. “So you don’t know if this was their first date or their fifth?”

“If they were a couple, Vicky would’ve had T-shirts made. It was probably their first date, and she probably tricked him into going on it. He probably thought he was taking her grandpa to the airport or something, and she gave him directions to the movie theatre instead, and since she already had pre-purchased tickets, why not go see the movie anyway because both of Vicky’s grandfathers are dead.”

“Nah, she probably shot him with a tranq gun and drove him to the movie theatre, and he came to as the credits rolled.”

“Even more likely, so see, not as bad as you think.”

“Kyle said Cy is sitting by her bedside. He’s worried about her which means he cares. He didn’t call or email to tell me about this terrible thing that happened to him. He’s not here today. So he’s probably hanging out by poor, comatose Vicky like prince charming hovering over sleeping beauty, and I’m the evil fairy trying to train some flying monkeys to kidnap him away.”

“Wasn’t her name Maleficent? And she didn’t have flying monkeys. That was the Wicked Witch of the West.”

“I’m sure the Wicked Witch of the West would’ve loaned her some flying monkeys if she asked. They were probably pals, trading potions and stuff.”

“So I’m the Wicked Witch of the West?”

“No, I always imagined you to be more like Mad Madam Mim.”

Rachel stared at Mary for a few blinks. “You’ve thought about this?”

“The villains are more interesting.”

“Let’s focus on something else.”

“What?”

“Well, I’m gonna fail Biology and be disowned by my father.”

“I told you taking that AP class was going to be tough. You should’ve stuck with CP like me.”

Rachel fell back onto the grass. “I know, but Dad was going on and on about how I have to take some advance placement courses, and I wasn’t about to try AP History or AP English.”

“And you wanted to dissect stuff.”

“Dissecting stuff is cool. I need to take these classes if I’m going to be a coroner.”

Mary shivered. Rachel had been going on about this coroner idea for a few months now, and it freaked her out. She dealt with ghosts, so she knew a good bit about death, but she didn’t want to know the science of it. She didn’t want to face the physical evidence. The spiritual evidence was enough for her.

“If you need help studying, I can quiz you. I may be only in lowly college prep, but I do know how to read.”

Rachel lifted her head and grinned. “Thanks. Maybe we could get together Wednesday. I have a test on Thursday, and I have to ace it to start getting my grade up.”

Mary nodded. Helping Rachel would keep her from obsessing over Cy.

“So Kyle told you about Cy and Vicky?”

Mary was a little surprised that Rachel was going back to that topic. She thought she’d wanted to drop it. “Yeah, he found me during TAB. He was upset too that Cy hadn’t told me about the accident.”

“That was nice of him.”

“Yeah, it was. It was better hearing it from him than overhearing it in the hallway or something.”

“He’s been pretty nice to you since you blew up his microwave.” That was code except Mary had blown up the microwave, but it was while getting rid of a really nasty ghost from his house.

“Yeah, he’s like grateful that I helped him. I figure it’ll die down in a while.”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t seem so much grateful as just likes you.”

Mary looked at her in confusion. “He’s just being nice. Sure, he was a complete meathead to me when I first met him, but he’s mellowed since then.”

Rachel didn’t reply. Mary shrugged it off and finished eating her lunch.

“Wasn’t Mad Madam Mim like kind of dumpy and crazy?”

“She could make herself look however she wanted. She chose to look dumpy, but she was definitely crazy.”

“Huh.”

“It’s how I picture you at seventy.”

“You know, I sometimes can’t wait to be seventy. Old people get away with the best stuff.”

“I know, just look at Gran.”

* * *
Mary worked on her homework in the living room. She was also tossing a red squeaky ball across the room. It would float back to her, and she’d toss it again. It was either toss the ball or have phantom panting in her face while she tried to work.

Gran was finishing up with a new client. Mary had called for a couple of pizzas to be delivered. She was still bummed about the Vicky/Cy thing, but it was slowly sinking away.

She heard a car start up behind the house, and a few moments later, Gran came through the beaded curtains. “How’d the session go?”

“Mrs. Beadley is having some trouble with her dead husband.” She smoothed back her grey hair and took a seat.

“What sort of trouble?”

“Dating mainly. He doesn’t like the fact that his widow is getting back into the game. If she brings a man over, he makes the lights flicker or the radio come on to frighten away of her date. She’s at her wit’s end.” The red ball dropped at Gran’s feet. She tossed it across the room.

“He hasn’t tried to hurt her, has he?”

“Oh no, nothing like that. She seems positive he’d never escalate to that. She remembers him quite fondly, but he’s annoying her a great deal now. She thinks it’s time for him to move on, like she’s trying to do.” The ball floated back to her, and she picked it up again.

“Any ideas about how to deal with him?”

“I think I’ll have to go to their home. She doesn’t have any idea what he could have anchored to.”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

Gran sighed and looked down at the squeaky ball in her hands. “I shouldn’t ask, but I think your presence would help.”

“It’s no problem. If he’s as harmless as you say, it’ll be fine.”

The doorbell rang, and Gran got up to get the pizzas. She tossed the squeaky ball to Mary. Chowder barked.

Mary pretended to not hear him while the door was open. Once the door was closed again, Mary threw the ball as far as she could, and Chowder ran away. She cleared off the coffee table for the pizzas.

“Did anything happen at school today?” Gran asked as she gave her a pizza slice on a paper plate.

Mary took a bite of her pizza. She nodded her head while she chewed. “Cy and Vicky Neilson were in a car accident over the weekend. Cy broke his collar bone and dislocated a shoulder. Vicky’s in a coma. They don’t know when she’ll wake up.”

Gran froze with her pizza halfway to her mouth. “Mary, that’s awful! Are you going to visit the poor girl?”

It was Mary’s turn to freeze. “I don’t really know her.”

“But she was a friend of Cy’s. Surely, you’ve met. I bet Cy would appreciate it if you visited.”

Mary didn’t know what to say. “Her family probably doesn’t want too many people crowding in right now.”

Gran frowned slightly. “You might be right. Well, you could send a card at least.”

Mary didn’t think Hallmark made a card that would cover how she felt about Vicky. ‘Sorry you were in an accident and put in a coma. Stay away from the boy I like.’ It didn’t even rhyme. Mary focused on eating her pizza.

“I promised Rachel that I’d help her study for a Biology test this Wednesday,” she offered to get away from the subject.

“Oh, that’s nice. Will you two be studying here?”

Mary shrugged. “Don’t know. We haven’t planned it any yet. Don’t worry about it. We can look after ourselves.”

“But I like looking after you, and Rachel’s a sweet girl. Unusual but sweet.”

Mary smirked at that. The first time they’d met, Gran had a little trouble not staring at Rach’s hair. It’d been Astroturf green at the time. Once she gotten over the hair, she’d stared at the piercings. Rachel had told her she’d look good with a nose ring. Gran had wondered how she’d blow her nose. Rachel’s answer of ‘Very carefully’ had made her cackle. They’d gotten along famously since then.

“Well, I’m going to go curl up with my book. Do you need anything else before I go to bed?”

Mary shook her head. Gran cleared away the left over pizza, and Mary pulled out her homework again. Chowder followed Gran to bed, and Mary had the living room to herself. She put the television on for company and worked more on her homework.

* * *
“You didn’t come by. I know you have no social life, so don’t even try giving me an excuse.”

Mary turned around and groaned. Once again, there were no exits, a hospital bed, and one annoying, non-comatose cheerleader. She said the thing that had been plaguing her all day. “You were on a date with Cy.”

“Oh, you’re still into him?”

Mary turned away so she wouldn’t launch herself at the other girl. “Is this real or just a nightmare?”

“It’s real. Very real. Look, I don’t think this thing is just affecting me. I think it’s going after other people.”

Mary turned back toward her. “How do you know that?” Vicky looked up at the ceiling as if trying to see the answer to her question.

“I can just sort of feel it out prowling around. I can feel it clawing at other people.”

“Do you know anything else about it? Does it talk? Can you see it?”

Vicky shook her head. “I can only feel it. Please come to the hospital. I’m afraid it’s gonna kill me.”

Mary stared at the other girl. Vicky was being serious.

“I’ll come by.”

“Are you going to bring that friend of yours? You better not let her mess with me.”

“You’re in a coma. What do you care?”

“I care. No drawn on mustaches.”

“What about a soul patch?”

“No!”

The dream snapped off at that, and she rolled over into normal sleep.

Continue to Chapter 2.

Chapter 14

2009-02-02T21:13:00.002-05:00

Coming to Terms
Mary walked up to Mrs. Beadley’s home with heavy steps. She wished Gran hadn’t insisted that they make this trip today. They’d only put Chowder to rest the night before. She’d wanted to stay home in bed. As Gran knocked on the front door, Mary couldn’t help remembering carrying Chowder the last time they’d been there, the way Mrs. Beadley had stammered at the sight of him, how he’d been happy to be there with them.

Nina opened the door for them with a relieved smile. “Thank you so much for coming,” she said as she ushered them in. Mary cast a weary look around the house. She didn’t hear Marvin, but she was surprised to find Neil sitting in the living room.

He nodded hello to them. He had a large picture frame in his hands. It had a wedding photo in it. It must be him and his late wife Gladys. She went to stand to the side. She’d felt unqualified to help the last time, this time she felt uninterested.

“Why are you here again?”

“Your wife called us. It seems you’re really upsetting her.” She kept her voice low as she answered.

“I’m only looking out for her.”

“No, you’re not. You’re being selfish and mean.”

“Now see here, girl. You don’t know anything about marriage.”

“I know it involves ‘til death do you part. What’s your excuse?”

Gran was talking to Nina and Neil during her conversation with Marvin. Neil was showing her the picture, and she was nodding her head while lightly touching it.

“Who are these women, Marvin?”

“Two mediums or something. The girl can hear us just fine.”

“She can?”

“Yes, she can,” Mary said softly. Gran sent an inquiring glance her way. Mary shrugged and dropped her eyes. She really didn’t want get involved.

“Marvin, Gladys? I need you both to listen to me,” Gran said looking about the room. “You both know what’s happened to you. It’s time to move on.”

“And go where? ”

Mary was curious about this too. She’d heard Gran talk about ushering spirits to the other side, but she’d never really understood how that was supposed to work. She got that spirits anchored to an object to stay, but how were they supposed to leave unless you destroyed the anchor?

“You should feel it in your hearts like a tug. Follow it.”

“Do you feel it, Marvin? I think I feel it.”

“Yeah, I suppose, but it doesn’t mean we should leave.”

“Your loved ones are safe and cared for. You can leave with clear consciousnesses and easy hearts. Your time here is done. You need to continue your journey. Staying will only hurt you and those you care for.”

She felt cold. She knew the temperature in the room hadn’t dropped, and no one else seemed to notice it. “Marvin, is that you?”

“What, girl?”

She looked down at her hands. They were shaking. Sweat was breaking out on her upper lip. She wiped it away and wanted to pull her hair out. Gran looked over at her again with concern. She wrapped her arms around herself and backed out of the room. Gran called to her. She shook her head and reached for the door. She couldn’t be here. Gran stepped into the foyer with a concerned look on her face. Mary shook her head to tell her not to follow. She slipped out the door and took a few deep breathes. She clenched and unclenched her hands. She had to get it together. She looked at her hands again. They looked dirty. She jerked them to her sides and paced to the front gate. Why was she even here? She didn’t care if Marvin and Gladys went to the light.

She turned and began pacing back to the house. Her eyes fell on the front door. Right now, Gran was trying to get rid of two ghosts. Last night two ghosts who she’d wanted to stay faded away. None of it was right.

She turned and paced back to the gate. They could go peacefully. No one had to hurt them, and they didn’t have to hurt anyone. It was more than others got. A lot more.

She swung around when she reached the gate and paced back toward the house. Why did ghosts hang around? Why did they insist on staying? Did it really help anyone? Losing someone twice was worst than once. They were being selfish. Mean. Hurting those they loved. Well, that was wrong. Hurting was wrong.

She didn’t turn when she reached the front door. She took the handle and strode back inside. Everyone was still in the living room. Gran was still urging them to move on. Mary entered the room and stopped short at the coffee table. Gran stopped speaking and all eyes turned to her.

“That’s it. You two get two choices. One, you cross over, or two you stay on this plane, but you don’t get to stay home. You’ll come home with us, and we’ll put you in our shed. You can bicker and haunt that for the rest of eternity. How does that sound?”

“Mary!” Gran protested.

“No, the world is for the living, right? The dead shouldn’t dictate the terms to us. You two don’t even realize how lucky you got it. You get a choice. Others in your situation don’t. So which will it be? Cross over or shed?”

“Now see here,” Neil protested.

“Oh I don’t know about this,” Nina said.

“Mary, you really shouldn’t—”

“If you think you can make ultimatums—”

“I don’t know you, but you can’t—”

Mary marched out of the room and went to the kitchen. She threw open the overhead cabinet and dug out an old coffee cup. It hummed in hand. It was Marvin’s anchor. She went back into the living room and picked up Neil’s framed wedding picture. Neil leapt up.
“
Now I’m giving you a choice. I don’t have to. I could just smash both of these right here and poof you’d be gone.”

“Well, it’s pretty obvious which one you’d like us to choose.” Marvin grumbled.

“No, I don’t care. I’m just not going to stand here and plead. We’re not the powerless ones.”

Mrs. Beadley stood cautiously. “Wait, Mary. You don’t have to do this. We can take care of it.”

“He won’t let you be happy with Neil. He’s going to haunt you for the rest of your days. If he stays, you won’t be allowed to live, which may be worst than being dead. It’s the same for you, Neil. You decide.”

No one had an immediate response to her strong words. Gran was clearly thinking, but her eyes weren’t giving away what she thought. Neil and Nina looked pensive. Gladys and Marvin were silent, but it was a heavy silence.

She wanted to break something or scream. Why couldn’t any of them see? Why were they dithering on about this? If they wanted to get rid of the ghosts, then get rid of the ghosts! It wasn’t difficult. You didn’t need to be a freak to do it. She still held Marvin’s coffee cup in her hand. She thought about smashing it on the floor. It would be so simple. She didn’t even need to throw it, just let it slip and down it would go and then Marvin would be gone. Her hands began to shake again.

She tried to tighten her grip on the mug, but her hand wouldn’t cooperate. It slipped before she could stop it. She tried to catch it, but she was too slow. It landed on the floor with a dull ceramic ring. It didn’t shatter, but a large chip came off of it.

The coldness she’d felt earlier swept over her again. What had she done? “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She knelt down and picked up the mug. She pressed the chip back into where it’d come off. “I can fix this. He’s still here. It’s okay. I’m sorry.” Nina and Neil stared at her. They still didn’t fully understand the significance of the mug. Gran moved from her seat and gently took it out of her hands.

“I’m sorry. It didn’t hurt you, did it, Neil?”

“No, I don’t think so. Are you all right?”

His question got a giggle out of her. She’d been thinking about smashing his anchor to smithereens, and he was asking about her well being. Gran laid her hand on her cheek. She focused her eyes on her. Gran’s eyes were full of sympathy. She didn’t understand why. She’d been rude and confrontational. She should be angry with her. “I think we should go. Mary’s not feeling well.”

“Yes, of course.” Nina got up to show them to the door. Gran carefully handed the mug over to her with a quiet explanation of what it was. Nina tucked it against her stomach in surprise while curiously looking down at it.

Mary walked to the station wagon in a bit of a daze. She wondered how much trouble she was in. You were never supposed to get so forceful with a client. You weren’t supposed to scare them. She would never be a proper medium. Sure, she could hear ghosts, but she couldn’t seem to talk to the living.

She got behind the steering wheel and stared out the windshield. She didn’t feel right to drive, but Gran still couldn’t with her ankle. A few moments later, Gran maneuvered into the station wagon. She reached to start the engine, but Gran gently placed her hand over hers to stop her.

“Mary, I’m sorry.”

“Isn’t that my line?”

Gran gave her sad little half smile and shook her head. “I thought getting out of the house and coming here might help you a little. Obviously, I was wrong.”

She shook her head. “I am so screwed up.”

Gran shook her head back at her. “No, you’re not. You went through something very difficult and are having trouble dealing with it. That’s normal. The fact is if you weren’t having trouble I would be more worried, but I see I pushed you when I should’ve just given you time.”

She twisted the leather of the steering wheel as she tried to think of something to say, but she just felt tired. “What about Marvin and Gladys?”

Gran shrugged her shoulders. “They will either go on their own, Nina and Neil will continue to have them, or we’ll find a coffee cup and a wedding photo on our doorstep.”

“I don’t think we should become the clearing house for ghosts.”

She chuckled. “Neither do I, and I don’t think Marvin and Gladys would enjoy the shed.”

Mary dipped her head at the reminder of the threat. “Sorry, that was pretty mean.”

“No, it made the ghosts realize that they can’t take their hold on this existence for granted. They may be ghosts, but they’re not invulnerable, and you were right on a lot of your points. You were a bit too blunt, but you were right. They have to decide either to hold on or let go.”

“Which they?”

“Ultimately, it will be Nina and Neil, but if Marvin and Gladys decide to let go, then they won’t have a say in the matter.”

Her mouth twisted. “It all seems so lopsided. Nobody has the ultimate power to stay, only to go. If Nina and Neil decide to let them stay, it won’t matter because Marvin and Gladys can decide they want to move on, but if Marvin and Gladys decide they want to stay, it won’t matter because Nina and Neil can decide to destroy their anchors.”

“Yes, that’s how it has to be.”

She looked back at the house. “I don’t envy them the choice.”

“Who?”

Mary’s first reaction was to say any of them, but her own words came back to her. “Nina and Neil. They’re the ones who have to live with the choice, but I hope Marvin and Gladys do the brave and loving thing by moving on.”

“How do you mean?”

“It’s selfish isn’t it? Haunting your loved ones? The dead should move on. It’s their path. Staying here only prolongs the inevitable.”

“But sometimes it’s comforting.”

Gran’s statement reminded her of Chowder. “He’s in a better place, isn’t he?”

“I’m sure he is. All of them end up where they’re supposed to be.”

“So he was supposed to be with us?”

Gran reached across and combed back her hair. Both of them had watery eyes. “Yes, I believe so. Ghosts have a purpose. His was to bring joy into our lives. He did and now he’s gone on to continue his journey.”

“But he’d still be here if his body hadn’t been harmed.”

“We can’t know that. And I don’t think he would’ve wanted it any other way. He was protecting us. He’s at peace now.”

She nodded. She knew it would take a while for her to accept it. The loss was still too fresh for her. “You said ghosts have a purpose. What about Ricky or Max? What was their purpose?”

“You said Max helped destroy the Shadowman. Without him, who knows what might have happened, and Ricky, well it’s harder to say, but Julie was there to stop him. All ghosts may have a purpose, but that doesn’t mean they serve it.”

Mary smirked. “Sort of got lost on that one didn’t you?”

“Maybe a little, but I think I pulled through.”

“Yeah, you’re still all knowing. Let’s go home.”

“Agree with the second part; have to disagree on the first.”

She shook her head. “Nope, not going to convince me there.” Gran quietly harrumphed and settled back in her seat.

When they got home, the phone was ringing. She ran to answer it and saw it was Rachel’s cell phone. Calling during school, she hoped she didn’t get caught. “Hey, Rach.”

“Where have you been?”

“I had to help Gran with a job.”

“Ooh, was it an exorcism?”

She sighed and shook her head, but that didn’t do much good over the phone. “No, it was weird though.”

“Like how?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think I could do what Gran does.”

“So you weren’t at the hospital Shadowman hunting?”

She had to grin at that. If she’d asked her a couple of days ago, she would’ve had to lie. “No, it was a ghost thing, but we weren’t any danger or anything.”

“So what is our next move with the Shadowman?”

“Nada. It’s moved on.”

“Really? How do you know?”

“He’s not there anymore. Vicky told me.” She had to be careful to keep to half truths, not sure if they were worst than lying or not.

There was a beep on the phone. “Hold on, I got another call.” She looked at the display and didn’t recognize the number.

She switched the phone to the other line. “Hello, Dubont Hellick residence.”

“Mary? It’s Kyle.”

Kyle? He’d never called her before. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey, how are you? I noticed you weren’t here at school.”

She snorted softly. She had no clue how to answer that question even for herself. “I’m not sick. I just needed a mental health day.”

Kyle laughed softly. “Yeah, I know about those.”

She grinned but was still perplexed about why he would call. “Is everything all right with you?”

He sighed and was quiet a moment. His silence made her tense. “I was planning to ask you in person today, but then you didn’t show and that threw my plans out the window so I’m calling because I don’t think I could go another day without asking.”

But then he didn’t continue. She was really perplexed now. “Ask me what?”

“Okay, I know this might be lame, but would you go to prom with me?”

“What?”

He let out a heavy sigh. “I knew you wouldn’t be interested. Sorry, forget I asked.”

“Um, so you don’t want to take me?”

“I asked you. What do you think?”

“I think I…” Her brain was scrambled. Prom? For real?

“You don’t have to be nice. If you don’t want to go—“

“I never thought I would go. I mean I didn’t think anyone would ask me.”

“I know it’s probably not your scene. I just thought it’d be cool if we went together.”

Her brain was definitely scrambled. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“If you still wanna?”

“Yes, are you sure? I mean…”

“If you really thought I’d say no, why’d you ask?”

“Because I really want to go with you.”

“You do?”

Kyle sighed again. It was starting to make her smile. “You know I like you, right?”

“I thought maybe, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up.”

“Get your hopes up?”

It was her turn to be quiet a moment. “I like you too.”

“So, okay then. We can talk more at school. You’ll be here tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, I will.”

“See you then.”

“Yeah.”

She switched back to Rachel, not even sure her friend would’ve stayed on the line, but she was still there. “So when do you wanna go prom dress shopping?”

“What?”

“Well, I’ll need one for the corsage.”

“Oh my God, did Kyle ask you?”

“Just now.”

She jerked the cordless from her head at the ear splitting squeal. “Oh man, now I need to find a date. I’ve gotta go. Talk to you later?”

“Yeah.” She turned off the phone and looked around the living room. Gran was in the kitchen washing dishes. She wandered in and watched her. Her stomach was all aflutter from Kyle, but she was still sad. She realized some quiet was the best thing for her. She gave Gran a kiss on the cheek and went outside to the backyard to sit underneath the crookety tree by the fresh mound. She shied away from thinking of it as a grave. She looked up at the sky and watched the clouds. One of them looked like Chowder. She smiled as tears slid from her eyes. She wasn’t all right yet, but she would be.

“I hope you’re happy, Chowder, and if you can, keep an eye on Max to make sure he stays out of trouble. I miss you.” There was no response to her words, but a sense of calm settled over her. She kept looking up at the sky.

THE END.

Now that you've finished Stalking Shadows, come over to my blog and help me pick a cover for the ebook edition!

Chapter 13

2009-02-02T15:17:00.002-05:00

Saying Goodbye
Mary backed up until her knees hit a chair and then folded into it. She stared incomprehensibly but with too much clarity as Mr. White swept the beaded curtain aside and stepped into the room. The Shadowman stayed in the hall.

She had to ask because her brain refused to understand what was going on. “What’s going on? How come the Shadowman’s not attacking you?”

“He won’t. He can’t.” Mr. White held up his hand, and a ring flashed blood red in the dim light. “He’s tied to me. My servant. Like Max. He stalks people for me and brings me their life force.”

“Why?”

“Terms of the contract. If he wants to be separate from me, he has to keep me supplied with life force. All shadows wish to be free. Why do you think they stretch so far from us?”

“Your shadow? How is that possible?”

“Cut him off.”

“How?”

Mr. White gave her a withering look and held up his ring hand again.

“But why would you cut off your own shadow?” It sounded so ludicrous and like a deal with the devil.

“Self-preservation, of course, but then again no one wants to die. I’m an old man, and don’t have many more years left on my own. If I have any more years. It steals life force for me, and I allow it its freedom.”

She shook her head. She couldn’t believe how well he’d duped her and Gran, and what better place to set loose a Shadowman than in a hospital? No one would question someone dying there, except people who knew of things beyond the grave. She’d walked right into his scheme, and he’d sent the Shadowman after her. And now he was going to kill her.

“You won’t get away with this.”

Mr. White began to chuckle, but it swiftly turned into a deep, racking cough that bent him over. He had to gasp for breath to speak. Still doubled over, he turned toward the Shadowman and pointed at her. “What are you waiting for? Take her.”

The Shadowman slipped past him and began drifting toward her. From behind her came a growl.

“No, Chowder!”

The Shadowman stopped and stared at a point on the floor. Chowder snarled. The Shadowman jerked. He thrashed around.

“I say, he is a very strong little dog.”

“Max, deal with him.”

Mary risked looking behind at Chowder’s body only to watch it rise up, and the head smash against the table.

“No!”

His body fell to the ground. The tear at his neck spanned his throat now, and a glass eye was missing.

“Why did you do that? He was just a little dog!”

Mr. White answered. “He was in the way. Don’t worry, girl. Don’t they say all dogs go to heaven?”

She turned back towards the Shadowman. It began to approach again. She still had Max’s sword. She clutched it in both hands. As he reached out to her, she swung it in an upward slash. It went through his hand. It felt like cutting Jell-O. He jerked back and a screeching sound like grinding gears came from him.

“Max!” Mr. White shouted. She was grabbed from behind. She didn’t try to struggle away. Instead she kicked the chair back. She felt the cold chill of Max’s form pass over her. Her chair banged into the table. She twisted around and grabbed the sheath.

“Mary, wait—” Max’s voice was cut off as she slammed the sword into the sheath.

“You don’t have Max or Horace or whatever the hell he wants to be called to help you anymore.”

“That’s fine. You don’t have anyone either. Just give up, Mary. I will get you.”

“Why are you doing this? How are you controlling him? Are you really? Or is he controlling you?”

Mr. White chuckled at her desperate questions. He wagged his finger at her. “No, you don’t get anymore answers. They won’t help you anyway. Now get her.”

The Shadowman moved toward her again, but she leapt from the chair and dodged past him. She rushed Mr. White. They fell into the hallway in a tangle. She grabbed the collar of his shirt. “Call him off!”

“Or you’ll what?” He peered into the room. “I think you forgot something or rather someone.”

Mary turned and saw the Shadowman was next to Gran. His hand was on her. “No!” Mary scrambled to her feet. “Don’t! Stop touching her!”

The Shadowman only stared at her implacably. Could he even understand her? She edged closer to Gran. White wisps rose from her head where the Shadowman’s hand hovered.

“Fine, take me. Do it.”

“That’s a good girl. Your gran would be so proud.”

“Don’t talk about her like you care! You take me, and then you leave. You never come near her again.”

“Fine.” He looked at the Shadowman and jerked his head. The Shadowman left Gran and came toward her.

“Won’t need anyone for a while after you.”

When the Shadowman was at arm’s length, she had to clench all of her muscles to keep from backing away. He raised his hand.

Her grip tightened on Max’s sword. She’d held it tightly the whole time.

“What are you waiting for? Pull it out!”

The Shadowman’s eyes flashed, and his hand began to descend. Mary shucked the sheath off the sword and drove it into the Shadowman’s torso. She felt her bile rise when it stuck. The sound that the Shadowman made was worse than nails on a chalkboard. She let go of the sword and stumbled back. It stayed embedded in the Shadowman.

“Mary? What have your done?”

“I’m sorry, Max.”

“No!” Mr. White rushed forward. She jumped in front of him and shoved him hard. He fell to the floor. The Shadowman was clutching at the sword, but he seemed unable to grab it.

“No, no, no!” Mr. White struggled up and reached with one hand toward the Shadowman. The other grabbed at his own chest. Mary blocked him and grabbed his wrist.

“Stop. It’s over.”

“Max, pull your sword out. Do it!”

Mary glanced back. If Max pulled out his sword, what would happen?

“No, I don’t think I will, Ezekiel. My debt is paid.”

“No, it’s not! You still owe me, and you know it.”

“Maybe, but it won’t matter if I’m gone.”

Her eyes widened as a pale silhouette came into view behind the Shadowman. It was Max. She couldn’t believe she was seeing him. Her eyes couldn’t leave as his hands circled around the Shadowman’s neck.

Mr. White surged to his feet. “No, stop!” Mary held him back.

The Shadowman’s hands flew from the sword to his neck. He struggled to pull Max off of him. A gurgling sound came from Mr. White. Mary wrenched her eyes away from the spectral forms struggling to watch in horror as Mr. White collapsed with his hands at his neck.

“Max?”

“Grab the sword. You have to strike the heart.”

“What?!”

“It’s the only way. He’ll just keep killing people if you don’t. Grab the sword!”

She got up and moved in front of the Shadowman again. It was trying to wrench Max off, but it appeared to be growing weaker.

“Mary, do it now!”

She grabbed the sword with both hands. She pulled it out and again was sickened by the feeling of resistance as she pulled. When it was free, she could see that the plastic blade was coated in a translucent black substance. She wanted to puke at the sight.

“The heart!”

She clutched the sword in both hands and stabbed into the chest. She screamed as the sword met resistance again. She had to push harder to make it go in all the way.

The Shadowman’s back arched, and its awful cries were cut off. “Time to go to hell, my friend.”

“Max!”

They were fading. The black translucent goo was dripping out from around the sword and dissipating on the floor. The sword appeared to be shriveling like it was against strong heat.

Mary turned to Mr. White. He still had his hands at his throat, but he wasn’t moving. His face was frozen in a silent wail. When she looked back at Max and the Shadowman, they were hardly outlines.

“Max, hold on!”

She reached to grab the sword. “No, Mary. This is how it should be. I’m sorry for deceiving you and Helena and for killing your pet. He was a better ghost than me. Please, forgive me.”

“No, Max!” The Shadowman and Max faded away completely.

They were gone. The rattle of something hitting the floor made her look down. It was what was left of the sword, a black sliver of burnt plastic. She bent down and stared at it.

“Max?”

There was no answer. Her eyes stung, and her legs gave out. She collapsed and poked the burnt plastic. She wiped her eyes and looked at Mr. White. He lay on the floor. His eyes were still open, but they were cloudy now. She put her fingers to his neck to check for a pulse and felt none. With a shaking hand, she reached and gently wiped her hand down his face, catching the eye lids and pulling them down. She also lifted his chin to close his mouth. He looked almost peaceful when she was done.

When Gran moaned, she couldn’t stifle the sob that came out of her. “What happened? Is the Shadowman here?”

Her knees shook as she picked herself up and went over to her. She put her arms around her and sagged, practically sitting in her lap.

“Mary, what happened? Are you all right?” She could tell when Gran spotted Mr. White. She pushed her away and got up. “Oh my God, Ezekiel! Mary, call 911.”

She wiped her face and sat in the empty seat left by Gran. The power was still off. Someone would have to go to the basement and flip the breakers before they could call for help. She couldn’t bring herself to move. “He’s dead. I’m sorry.”

Gran crouched over the body. Her hand was on his cheek. “The Shadowman killed him?”

She wasn’t sure how to answer. Should she tell her? She didn’t even know exactly what all had led to this point. How Mr. White had made the Shadowman and how Max had been working for him were still strange to her, and who had killed Mr. White? She wanted to vehemently deny it, but she had a sinking, shuddering feeling that she was the one. She’d killed a man. Not directly, but she’d seen how attacking the Shadowman was affecting him, and she hadn’t stopped. She’d still taken the sword and stabbed it in the heart.

“Mary?”

She jumped in surprise. She hadn’t noticed Gran had moved to crouch in front of her. What could she tell her? She looked down at her hands. They were clean. No black goo. No blood. They looked innocent.

“I killed him.”

“What?”

“I killed Mr. White.”

“No dear, it was the Shadowman.”

Mary looked into Gran’s eyes. There was still very little light in the room. Gran’s face was mainly in shadow. But what little light there was glimmered off tear tracts. Mary wiped her own face, but it was dry. She didn’t feel sad. That was bad wasn’t it? She should feel sad for killing someone shouldn’t she? Her eyes dropped back to her innocent looking hands.

“Let’s get you into the living room. Did lightning knock out the power?”

She let her pull her out of the chair. She had to step over Mr. White’s feet to leave the room. She started to shake. What if he spoke up? What would she say to him?

“Are you there, Mr. White? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Mr. White, can you hear me? I’m sorry.”

“Hush, Mary.”

She finally felt tears when she realized there would be no reply. Gran pushed her out and hustled her to the living room. She pushed her down onto the couch. “Stay here. I’m going to check the breakers and call 911. Just stay here.”

She nodded and stared at the floor. Gran left to go to the basement. A few minutes later, the lights came on all over the house. The sudden illumination stung her eyes. She sort of wished it’d stayed dark.

Gran came to sit beside her on the couch. The cordless was in her hand. She was telling the emergency dispatcher their address. After she hung up, she put her arm around her. “If anyone asks, say it looked like he had a heart attack or a stroke. He came over to visit and collapsed.”

She nodded and drew her knees up to her chin. The house was so quiet. The only ones there were her and Gran. It hated the silence.

“Mary, what happened?”

“I killed Mr. White.”

Gran squeezed her, but there was a trace of frustration in her voice. “Don’t say that anymore. Not to me, not to anyone. Now tell me what happened.”

“The Shadowman was here. It was going to kill us. I stabbed it with Max’s sword, and Max grabbed it. He held it so I could stab it again.”

“What was Zeke doing?”

Mary shuddered and bowed her head lower. “He was trying to stop me.”

Gran froze. Mary wanted to crawl under the couch. There was banging at the front door. Gran flew off the couch to answer it. There were paramedics and police officers on the other side. Gran led them all back to her office. Mary stayed on the couch.

She could hear a lot of talking and movement from the back, but they didn’t come back through the living room. They must have brought the ambulance around the house and took Mr. White out through the office entrance. Gran stayed with them and answered their questions. No one came to speak to her. They must have believed Gran’s story. She wondered if there would be an autopsy and what the coroner would find. Would there be strangulation marks? What about stab wounds? She hadn’t seen any blood, but his death had been violent. Surely, there would be evidence of that? Would she be a suspect? What about Gran? What would they tell them?

The phone rang. Gran had left it on the couch with her. She picked it up and looked at the number. She didn’t recognize it, but it was local. “Hello, Dubont Hellick residence.”

“Hello, this is Nina Beadley. May I speak to Mrs. Dubont?”

Mary’s eyes went toward the office, but it sounded like Gran was still talking to the police. “She’s busy right now, may I take a message?”

“Is this Mary?”

She swallowed and ran her hand through her hair. She wanted to deny it but knew that would be stupid. “Yeah, Mrs. Beadley. How are things with Marvin?”

“He was good for a few days after your visit, but he’s up to his old tricks again, and I’m about at my wit’s end.”

“You want us to get rid of him?”

She wasn’t sure why, but the thought made her feel sick. Mrs. Beadley paused before she answered. “Not get rid of him, but I shouldn’t hold onto him. I need to let him go.”

She wanted to hang up the phone. She couldn’t discuss this with her. Gran had come back into the room. The police must have finally left. She mutely held out the phone. She took it and cocked her head questioningly. “It’s Mrs. Beadley. She wants to talk about Marvin.”

Gran nodded her head and walked into the kitchen with the phone. She wasn’t sure what to do now. Should she stay on the sofa? She felt like she should be doing something. She got up and went into the kitchen. Gran was sitting at the kitchen table while she talked. Mary walked quietly by her towards the office. She didn’t know if Gran saw her or not. She made no move to stop her.

The office looked the same and different. The lights were all on, and Mr. White was gone. Chowder was sitting on the sideboard. The rip on his neck sagged in a little from the missing sawdust. His missing eye was sitting by his feet. She patted his head with a shaky hand. There was no happy pant or cheerful yip. Not even a whine. She wanted to cuddle the small dog but couldn’t because she was afraid of dislodging more sawdust.

She couldn’t put him to peace like Mr. White. He had no eye lids to close; his mouth was wired open; his body rigid with sawdust. She picked up the small body and tucked it under her arm. The familiar motion made her shudder. She quietly slipped through the outside door of the office. The back of the house had a large covered porch which extended to both the office entrance as well as one to the kitchen. Gran kept most of her gardening tools there. She picked up a garden trowel and scanned the backyard for a suitable spot.

Their back yard was not the prettiest. The garden tools were more there as an aspiration than actual use. Scrub grass and weeds made up the yard, along with an old crookety tree which she could never remember the name of, but the foot of it looked like the nicest place to be buried.

She knelt near the tree and set Chowder gently to the side. She picked up the trowel and began stabbing the ground to break up the dirt. She had to stop herself after a while when her stabbing was fuelled more by emotion rather than necessity. She leaned back and looked up at the sky. The stars overhead were distant and cold. She heard the screen door to the kitchen slam. She looked up at Gran when she came to stand by her. She still had the phone, but now it was off. “I can call Mrs. Todd to get the number of her taxidermist. He could fix him up again.”

Mary shook her head. “It’s no use. He’s gone.”

Gran’s face went slack. “Are you sure?”

She nodded.

Gran seemed to sink into herself. The hole was about a foot deep now. She couldn’t bring herself to call it a grave. Gran carefully got onto her knees and put out her hand. “Here let me do it.”

She shook her head again. “Right, let Grandma do the digging, not the teenaged girl.”

“There are some things you shouldn’t have to do yet.”

She began digging again. How deep was enough? What should she use as a marker? Should they say something? Like a prayer? She didn’t know how to answer these questions. She didn’t know anything, yet she could do so much damage. Tears began to fall from her eyes as her breath turned into hiccups. Gran reached out and put her hand over hers. She let her take the trowel.

She looked at the little dog resting beside her, and the thought of just placing him in the ground as he was seemed so cruel. “We should wrap him in something. I’ll go get a towel.”

Gran nodded and kept digging. She went inside and took down a towel from the bathroom closet. She realized what she was getting was a shroud. She felt a new set of tears forming. She went to take the towel to Gran and spotted the red ball. It had been his favorite toy. She picked it up and folded the towel over it. She went back outside. Gran was waiting for her. Together they carefully wrapped the towel around the small dog, including the ball and lowered it into the small hole. “What should we say?” Mary asked. She didn’t know if she could say anything, but something should be said, right?

“Chowder, you were the best little dog. You made us happy. We will miss you, and we hope you are happy and surrounded by love.”

Mary nodded silently in agreement.

Continue to Chapter 14

Chapter 12

2009-02-01T22:20:00.003-05:00

Secrets Come Out
“Vicky's awake? When?” Cy's eyes widened and left hers to look toward Vicky's hall. His whole body appeared to lean in that direction. Mary took a step back to get out of his way.

"She just woke up. Her mom and a doctor are in there with her," Rachel answered.

"Thanks, see you at school." And with that, Cy brushed past them and turned down the hallway toward Vicky's room. It surprised her how his dismissal didn’t hurt that much. It wasn’t like an ice pick to the heart, more of a glancing punch. Maybe she was getting over him? Kyle hung back. She turned to him. He had his hands in his pockets, and his eyes on the floor. Another feeling came over her. It wasn't a bad feeling.

"Hi Kyle," she said.

Kyle looked up at her and then back at the floor.

"Hey. So you two just happened to be there when she woke up?"

"Yeah, we had nothing to do with it."

"We didn't?" Rachel piped in.

Mary shook her head. "No, we didn't. Vicky woke up on her own."

"So you two going to keep volunteering?"

"I probably won't, but Rachel might."

"What? If I have to keep doing this, so do you," Rachel argued.

"The hospital is still not a great place for me. Especially not the basement."

"The basement? What's in the basement?"

"The morgue.”

"You got to go to the morgue? When? Where was I?" Rachel demanded.

"I took a wrong turn. It was a mistake."

The answer didn’t placated Rachel. "Some wrong turn," she muttered.

"If you take the stairs at the end of the hallway all the way down, you might be able to get in through the boiler room."

Rachel's eyes lit up. "Wanna go try?"

Mary shuddered and shook her head. "No, I never want to go there again."

Understanding drifted across her friend’s face. "Right. Well, you wanna hang here while I go try? Please? I promise not to get super mad at you for not telling me all about your trip."

Her mouth quirked into a smile. "Okay."

"But I will expect full details when I get back." Mary nodded. With a quick wave at both of them, Rachel headed away. Mary wondered if she should be worried. She was ninety percent sure that the Shadowman wasn't down there, but what if he'd found his way back with that ten percent chance? Rachel had seemed almost bouncy as she left. She shook her head and decided that she wouldn’t worry. If Rachel didn't come back in thirty minutes, then she'd have a melt down. Kyle was still standing with her outside the elevators.

"Don't you want to catch up with Cy?"

"No, I'm just his ride. I'm glad Vicky's awake and all, but I didn't really want to come here."

"But you used to like Vicky, didn't you?"

"I thought she was hot, but not really interested in her type anymore."

"What type you interested in now?" Her voice cracked on ‘now’. She could feel herself turning pink. She couldn’t believe she’d asked that question.

"I like girls who know how to do stuff. Who don't care what other people think. Who don’t pander to anyone and know they’re special anyway."

Everything sort of slowed down at what he said, or rather her words being repeated back to her from when she'd confronted him at school while he was possessed.

"So you remember all of that?" she asked softly. She’d sort of hoped he wouldn’t remember stuff from when he was possessed or that it might fade away or something.

Kyle's eyes dropped to the floor again. "Yeah," he said with a heavy sigh.

"I'm sorry, Kyle. I can't imagine how awful or strange that must be."

He nodded his head. She wanted to reach out and comfort him in some way, but she couldn't muster the courage.

"I'm also sorry for how I was when you came to talk to me the other day. I was really bitchy."

"You were?" he asked with a wry grin.

"Yeah, I was," she said sincerely. "I seem to be that way a lot with you."

"I don't think so."

Mary didn't know what to say to that. He liked her, and she'd never run into this situation before. She skirted it a bit with Cy, and oh god, he was Cy's brother. Did she not know how to branch out? "Something was attacking Vicky. Rachel and I were trying to get rid of it."

"A ghost?"

"Not exactly." She winced and looked at him out of the corner of her eye. He might be able to handle ghosts, but what about other weirdness?

"What was it?"

Now she wasn't sure if she should've told him anything, if telling him anything meant telling him everything. "It's called a Shadowman."

"What'd you do to it?"

Invited it home to terrorize her? Mary didn't know what to say. She felt like she hadn't done anything and didn't know what to do. They were taking stabs in the dark or rather at the dark but not getting anywhere. And she realized with a little start that she'd taken too long to answer. The pieces were clearly falling into place for Kyle.

"The thing's still out there?"

"But it's not threatening Vicky anymore," she was quick to point out.

Kyle, for all his bullishness, was pretty intuitive. "But it's threatening you?"

The quiver of her chin belied the lie she was quick to offer. "No, of course not. It wouldn't think of bothering me or Gran. That'd be like suicidal."

"Mary, are you safe?"

"I'm okay. Really."

Kyle didn't look like he believed her. Rachel appeared around the corner. She didn't look so bouncy anymore. Mary figured seeing real dead people might have woken her up to how not fun being a coroner would be.

"Come on Mary, we have to go. Maintenance totally busted me in the mechanical room. They said if I wasn't out in fifteen minutes, security would get me."

"Was this on your way to or from the morgue?" Kyle asked.

"To! I didn't get to see a single toe tag. It's such a bummer."

Mary rolled her eyes. She’d really hoped Rachel would drop her fascination with dead people.

"Mary, if you need help or anything, give me a call, okay? I mean it," Kyle said.

She nodded her head and got on the elevator. "Thanks, Kyle. I will if anything comes up."

"Bye, Kyle. Good seeing you," Rachel said as the doors closed.

"What floor, please?"

Mary snorted to herself and shook her head.
"What?" Rachel asked.

She shook her head. "We're going to the lobby."

"What? Oh! Is it the elevator ghost?"
"It's gone."

"Yeah, it's no longer at the hospital."

"Good."

"No, it's not good! It's still out there, and it's going to hurt other people."

"Get rid of it."

"How?!"

The ghost was quiet. God, he was useless. She shook her head and stared at the floor.

"So you, Gran, and Mr. White still don't know how to get rid of the Shadowman?"

"Mr. White thinks we can use a ghost, but I don't know how."

"Chowder?" Rachel sounded worried for the spectral dog.

"No, someone else. He likes to be called Max. Anyway, he's supposed to help get rid of the ghost, but no one knows how that's supposed to work. I mean the Shadowman hung out in a hospital that's full of ghosts. If ghosts are so dangerous to it, why stay here?"

"Stayed away."

"What?"

"Stayed away from us. Didn't come near."

"Do you know how a ghost would defeat a Shadowman?"

There was no reply. Mary was seriously beginning to wonder if the ghost was trying to drive her crazy. Maybe it was an evil spirit who enjoyed infuriating people until they saw red.

"What's he saying?" Rachel asked.

Her look must have communicated the lack of communication coming to her because Rachel stepped back and looked down.

"I don't know why I bother. I tried to do the right thing. No, I DID the right thing, and I'm getting punished."

"Light hurts it. It flees. If can't flee, light will kill it."

"How can we keep it from fleeing? It's a shadow. It can slip through vents and cracks."

"No, it can't."

"Yes, it can!"

The ghost didn't argue back, but her mind was already churning over his denial, trying to figure out why he’d said that. She flashed on her window. It had been raised a few inches. She'd known the Shadowman had raised it, but why would he have had to raise it? It wasn't air tight. There was a seam though small, and at the morgue, he’d been pushing the door open, not slipping through the crack.

"You know this is almost as annoying as having two people argue over you in a different language."

"He said that the Shadowman can't slip through small cracks, and it can't go through doors. It can be trapped."

"Great, then what?"

"Then turn on the lights."

"So...how do we trap it?"

"We lure it with bait."

"Uh, Mary?"

The elevator doors opened, and she strode off the elevator with a plan starting to form in her head. It was still very hazy, but a plan was coming together. She stopped mid-step, and Rachel ran into her.

"What now?"

Mary dashed back to the elevator and jammed the closing doors with a foot. "Thank you. You've helped a lot and sorry for being so rude to you."

"No worries, miss. It's all part of the job."

She wasn't sure what to make of that, but nodded anyway and let the doors close.

"What are you planning?" Rachel asked.

"I don't know yet. Come on, I need to get home."

Mary's knee bounced the whole time she was in the car. Now that she had a direction, a way to reach her goal, she was anxious to get it done. She'd been so morose about her prospects before, but now she was driven. The car hadn't come to a complete stop before she jumped out and ran up the steps to her house.

"Gran!" she shouted.

She hadn't needed to shout. Gran was waiting for her in living room. Mary let her muscles relax. "Vicky's awake."

Gran perked up at the news. "She is? How is she?"

She shrugged and sat in the recliner. "She seemed pretty normal actually. She said to say thanks."

"Well, that's good. It's good that she's okay."

"I also think we can defeat the Shadowman."

"And how's that?"

"We set a trap. If we can lure it into a room and shut it in, we can turn on a lot of light and kill it."

“That sounds more like a theory than a plan."

Her shoulders hunched a bit. "I don't have the particulars yet, but it's something to work with. We have to get rid of it."

Gran sighed and nodded. "I'll think about it, maybe come up with a few particulars."

She nodded back. "The room doesn't have to be air tight or anything, and Max can help us."

Gran nodded again but didn't reply. Mary could tell she was thinking, but she looked uneasy too.

“Night, Gran."

"Good night, dear. Sweet dreams."

Mary went up to her room and closed the door. Lure it, trap it, and kill it. That's what she had to do. She had Max. She knew light could kill it. But where would she lure the Shadowman? She looked around her room. He obviously knew where she lived so she could tempt him into the house, but how would she trap him inside if he opened a window to slip in? Max? If she kept him sheathed until the Shadowman was there, she could unsheathe the sword to release him, and he could close the window. But what would happen while Max was covering the window? She had to be able to turn on a lot of lights quickly. The ceiling light's switch was across the room. Her bedside lamp was too dim to do the job.

She fell asleep with every light burning in her room and a flashlight by her side. Max had told her good night and that he'd kept vigil through the house. Still she had trouble sleeping. Every hour she would start awake and look around the room.

The next day she shuffled down to the kitchen, following the smell of French toast. Gran turned from the stove to give her a smile.

"Good morning, dear."

Mary mustered a grunt and slumped into her chair. She rubbed her eyes to try and rouse herself. She felt like sludge.

Gran set a glass of orange juice and a plate of French toast in front of her. She focused on pouring syrup onto her toast and may have nodded off for a few seconds. Syrup was close to overflowing her plate when she set the bottle down. She wasn't even sure what day of the week it was. She clutched a slim hope that it was the weekend.

“You shouldn’t be on your feet,” she said belatedly.

“I’m doing fine.”

She didn’t have the strength to argue and shoveled a large forkful of French toast into her mouth and instantly regretted it. She was too tired to eat so much. She propped her head on her fist and dragged her fork through the syrup as she made herself chew. She began dozing off again.

"Mary, I'm keeping you home from school."

She blinked open her eyes and looked at Gran. She pushed her plate away and stood up to go back to bed.

"Aren't you going to finish?"

She weaved on her feet. "Too tired," she mumbled.

"Did you have a nightmare?"

"Never slept long enough to have one. I think I'll try sleeping now. Could you wake me up for lunch?"

Gran nodded and took her plate to the sink. She stumbled back up to her room and collapsed onto her bed. Maybe she could become a hardcore night owl until the Shadowman situation was resolved. She thought that sounded like a very good idea as she drifted back to sleep.

When she woke next, it was with a start. She came wide awake. All of her bedroom lights were on, and it was clear why when she looked to the window. It was dark outside. She'd slept the entire day. She looked at the clock, and it was just after eight p.m. She got up from bed and went downstairs to find Gran.

She'd expected to find her on the sofa, but the living room was empty. She called out to locate her. Silence was her answer. She checked the fridge for a note but didn’t find one. This wasn’t right. Gran should be here. She still couldn’t drive. And she wouldn’t have left her home alone and asleep after dark. True, all her lights were on, but where was Gran?

The light was flashing on the answering machine. There were three messages. She pressed the play button, hoping to hear Gran with a sensible reason for why she wasn’t home and what was going on.

“Helena, this is Zeke. I need you to call me. My number’s 555-5651.” The message was left at 10:30am. Mary wondered if Gran had gone to see Mr. White, but why wasn’t she home yet?

Next was Rachel. “Mary, where are you girl? Call me.” She waited tensely for the third message hoping it would be Gran. Instead it was Mr. White again, "Helena, I hope you get this message. I'm worried. Call me."

She picked up the phone and dialed Mr. White’s number. It rang three times before he picked up. "Hello? Helena?"

"Mr. White, it's Mary. Have you heard from Gran?"

"No, where is she? What’s going on?"

"I've been asleep. Gran didn't wake me up, and she's gone. I don't know where she is."

“Are you at home? I’m coming over.”

“Okay. Why were you trying to reach Gran?”

“I’ll explain when I get there. Is Max with you?”

She closed her eyes and listened. She hadn’t heard a peep out of him and couldn’t sense him. “No, I don’t know.” Where was Chowder also?

She walked from the living room into the kitchen. “Chowder, where are you boy?” she called.

“Is Chowder your dog?”

“Yeah, I don’t know where he is ei--.” Mary stopped when she heard a whimper. It was coming from Gran’s office. She swept the beads aside.

“Gran!”

“Mary, what is it?” Mr. White demanded.

Gran was slumped onto the table. An overturned tea cup was by her head. Chowder’s body was lying on the floor. There was a tear at his neck. A small pile of sawdust had leaked out. Max’s sword was sitting on the table in his scabbard. Mary went over to Gran and set the cordless down. She carefully pushed her into a sitting position. “Gran, wake up. Gran.” She shook her gently, but she didn’t rouse.

She picked the phone up. “Gran won’t wake up. I need to call 911.”

“Mary, wait. It’s most likely the Shadowman. If we don’t stop him now, we might never get the chance. Unsheathe Max and wait for me.”

“O-okay, hurry.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

Mary hung up the phone and checked Gran again. She was breathing, and her pulse seemed strong, but she wouldn’t wake up. Had the Shadowman got her? She grabbed Max’s sword and drew it.

“What’s going on? What’s happened?”

“Max, do you know what happened to Gran?”

“I think the Shadowman was here. Oh, your poor dog.”

Mary spared a glance for Chowder. She carefully laid Gran’s head back onto the table and crouched down by the small dog. “Chowder?” she asked softly. There was no answer.

Tears ran down her face. He sounded like he was in pain. It was so wrong. She carefully set his body upright and tried to pack a handful of sawdust back inside him. “You’re going to be okay, Chowder. I promise.”

“I know where the fiend is. Time to have it out with him. This is no way to treat a lady.”

“Max, wait—” But he was gone. She held the bejeweled plastic sword close and put her hand on Gran’s shoulder. Her eyes swept over the table and landed once again on the overturned tea cup. From this side of the table, she could see inside it. There was something stuck in the bottom, and it wasn’t loose leaves. She picked it up and brought it to her face. At the bottom of the cup were bits of something hard, like pieces of a crushed pill. She remembered her own sudden lethargy after breakfast. Could something have been slipped to her as well? She didn’t know what to make of it. Then the power went out.

“Max!” The ghost didn’t answer. The only light now was the weak moonlight streaming in through the windows. But there were candles set up all around the room. No self-respecting medium would work without candles. Ambiance was very important. Mary quickly got a box of matches out of the sideboard and began lighting them. She kept Max’s sword tucked under her arm. She hoped he showed back up soon.

She didn’t know what to do. The phone was dead now because of the power, Gran was still unconscious, Chowder was hurt, and she didn’t know where Max was. She blew out the match after she lit the last candle. That was when the chittering began, just beyond the beaded curtain. She turned to face it and quickly moved candles to the central table to bring the light closer to Gran. His red eyes followed her every move. She was so frightened, her hands shook, and hot wax spilled over her fingers, but she barely felt it. “Max!” She brandished the sword at the beaded curtain, and the Shadowman hung back.

“You certainly are a most resourceful and levelheaded girl.”

Mary’s heart leapt in relief. “Max, what happened? Are you all right?”

“Kind of you to inquire. I am fine. You, though, do not appear to be faring well.”

“What are we going to do?”

“Wait, he’s coming in.”

Mary stumbled back thinking Max meant the Shadowman, but he didn’t shift from his spot.

From the front of the house, Mary heard the front door open. “Mary?” It was Mr. White.

“Mr. White, don’t come back here! The Shadowman’s here!” But her heart tripped as she heard the sound of a shuffling gate moving toward her.

“Max, go help him!”

“He doesn’t need my help.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but it gaped instead as the candles began to go out one by one. The Shadowman hadn’t moved from beyond the beaded curtain. She fumbled with the box of matches to light them again, but the box jumped out of her hands. The matches scattered, and she couldn’t see any of them in the darkness.

“Max!”

“That’s enough, Mary. No need to keep screeching.” She turned back to the beaded curtain. The Shadowman moved aside, and Mr. White stepped through. Her hand came up and pointed at them, but she was speechless.

“Have a seat, Mary. This shouldn’t take long.”

Continue to Chapter 13

Chapter 11

2009-01-31T23:48:00.003-05:00

Rude Awakening
She was sitting on a bench at the park and watching kids play on the jungle gym. She didn’t know where Rachel was, but she wasn’t worried. It was nice just watching the kids. “I don’t know how you did it, but thanks.”

She turned to Vicky who had just appeared sitting beside her or had she been there the whole time? Mary shook her head. “What?” Was she dreaming? Why weren’t they in the hospital room?

“The monster’s gone. How’d you kill it?”

“You’re out of your coma?”

“Not yet. So how’d you do it?”

She was dreaming? “Why aren’t we in your hospital room?”

Vicky shrugged. “Don’t know. This seems nicer. So what’d you do?”

Mary looked towards the kids. She didn’t feel like she was dreaming, but she decided to go along with it for now. “We haven’t done anything yet. How do you know the Shadowman’s gone?”

“Don’t feel him lurking around. Can tell he’s gone. So if you didn’t do anything, who did?”

Mary rubbed her forehead. Was the Shadowman really gone? Was she really dreaming of Vicky in the park? Was this really Vicky or was she dreaming a fake Vicky? Her head hurt, and she didn’t feel well.

“I don’t know if anyone has done anything.”

Vicky huffed and crossed her arms. “Then what happened?”

She stared across the park. The kids were playing tag. One was chasing all the others. He was dressed in black. “Maybe it moved on.”

“So it’s still out there hurting people?”

She opened her mouth to respond, but a tugging at her pant leg made her look down. Nothing was there. She shook her foot to get rid of the sensation.

“How’d we end up at the park? We were always in your hospital room before.”

“I said I don’t know. You’re the freak not me.”

Mary hoped that this was really Vicky and not a dreamed up one because dreaming up a Vicky to insult her meant her subconscious was just mean.

“Pot meet kettle, Vicky. You’re the one who pulled me into your dreams.”

“No, I didn’t.”

Everything seemed to go darker and sharper. The kid, who was it, had caught one of the other kids. The little girl went down on the ground. She didn’t get back up. “What?” The tugging on her pant leg began again.

“I’m not the one doing this. I never have been. Don’t you know that?” The kid in black was chasing the other kids again. The little girl lay motionless on the ground. Should she get up to check on her?

Wind picked up and began whipping their hair around their faces. “I’m not doing this. I don’t know how.”

“Are you sure? You can talk to ghosts. Why not pull me into your dreams?”

The kid in black had tagged another kid and he went down to the ground. She looked for the little girl to check on her, but she was gone. Something was still tugging at her foot. “I didn’t pull you in; you pulled me.” She kicked her foot out to get rid of the annoying tugging.

“Nuh uh, and why’s everything going scary movie ominous?”

The last boy who’d been tagged wasn’t getting up either. She’d never seen anyone play tag like that. She didn’t like it. “I don’t know, maybe because you’re pissing me off.”

“Aha! So you admit it. You’re the one causing this.”

Mary stood up and turned away from the children. She didn’t like watching them any more. “Talking to ghosts does not mean that I can have telepathic dreams. Having one does not mean I can do the other.”

Vicky jumped up too to square off with her. “Just admit it! You’re a complete freak who does all sorts of freakish stuff.”

She shook her head and regretted it. She was really beginning to feel sick. “I’ve never entered people’s dreams before. Why would I be able to all of a sudden?”

Vicky threw her hands up. “How should I know? I’m in a coma.”

“That’s right, you’re in a coma. I’m not the one who needed help and had no way to ask for it. You did this. You somehow tapped into my head or pulled me into yours so you could tell me about the Shadowman. We shared the first dream before I knew you were hurt, so you have to be the one doing this. If I could do this, which I can’t, why would I suddenly start having telepathic dreams with you when I didn’t even know anything was wrong? Welcome to Club Freak, Hickey. Here’s you membership card.”

Vicky’s face screwed up as if she were about to scream, instead something bit Mary’s foot hard. She grabbed her injured foot and started hopping. She shot Vicky a glare. “Ow! Stop that!”

“Doing what! Why are you jumping around?”

“You bit me!”

Vicky opened her mouth to yell back at her, but all that came out was barking. Despite her anger and queasiness, Mary couldn’t help laughing. Vicky’s face turned red. The scene began to waver. Vicky screamed, but all that came out was louder barking. It suited her.

Mary woke up chuckling. The barking was still going on. “Chowder!” She sat up to throw something in Chowder’s direction and felt the strangest and most awful sensation as she came up off the bed. It was like she was covered in static electricity and motor oil. She flipped back down and fell off the bed. She looked up and stared into two red glowing eyes suspended in a black nebulous form. A dark translucent hand reached out to her.

“No, no, no!” She tried to scramble away, but her back met the wall. She was on the wrong side of her bed to reach her lamp. She gathered her legs to run to the other side of the room and dart around the Shadowman to the door, but it could tell what she planned and moved in closer to block her escape. Chowder continued to bark his head off.

Her bedroom door opened, and Gran stood there on one crutch. “What in the world is going—” her voice cut off when she saw the Shadowman. Her hand slapped the light switch by the door, and the ceiling light came on illuminating the room. The Shadowman hissed and flew to the window. It was open a couple of inches. Mary hadn’t opened it.

Gran lurched into the room. “Mary, are you all right?” She was still on the floor. She felt awful like she needed a molten hot shower for her soul.

“No, I’m not. That thing touched me. I think I’m going to be sick.” A cold sheen of sweat covered her body, her heartbeat was in synch with hummingbird wings, and she felt oily, not physically but psychically. She climbed up from the floor and slumped onto her bed. Gran laboriously lowered herself beside her.

“Vicky was just asking me about what had happened to the Shadowman.”

“You were dreaming about her?” She nodded and turned toward the window. Gran turned too. She saw it was open and lurched over to close it. She turned the lock as well. She stayed at the window looking outside into the quiet night.

“Where do you think it went?”

“I don’t know, dear. I really don’t.”

Gran’s voice sounded odd. Watery. Mary got off the bed and put her hand on her shoulder. “Gran, you okay?”

She didn’t turn around when she nodded her head. “I’m fine, dear. You should try going back to sleep.”

“Gran?” Chowder whined. He could tell she was upset too.

Her shoulders sagged. “I’m just tired.”

“No, that’s not it. You’ve been acting weird since this began.”

She saw Gran quickly wipe her eyes before she turned around. She moved to the door, but she got up and touched her arm. “Gran, talk to me.”

She turned to look at her and her face looked so sad. Had the attack upset her that much? “I’m okay, I promise. That thing gave me the ooglies, but that’s all.”

“That’s good.” But her voice betrayed the lie. Nothing was good right now for her.

“I thought you were gung-ho on getting rid of the Shadowman.”

“No, I’m not.” Her reply surprised her. She looked at her silently, hoping she’d say more.

She sighed and sat down in her desk chair. “Do you remember what you said at Ezekiel’s?”

“You mean that we have to help Vicky because no one else can. What about it?”

“Did you ever think you wouldn’t or couldn’t help her?”

She wasn’t sure what Gran meant. “I didn’t know how I could help her, so I’d have to figure it out.”

“But you never thought about not helping her.”

“No, I guess not. I would’ve rather it been someone else. Vicky is one of my least favorite people, but she couldn’t handle this and I guess I just figured I had to do something.”

Gran nodded and looked at the carpet. “Exactly. You know what’s right and will do it, no matter what. I admire that in you, and don’t want to ever tell you no, but on the other hand, I’m your grandmother, and I know that you could get hurt and I don’t want that, but if I don’t help you, if I try to stop you, you’ll do this anyway without me and maybe get hurt worst. I don’t want you facing this monster, but I know I can’t stop you so I better help you.” She sighed and shook her head. “But I really wish you hadn’t come across this thing. I wish I could keep you safe and now this thing has followed us home and you’re not safe. I can’t keep you safe.”

She didn’t know what to say to Gran to reassure her, but she tried anyway. “We’ll be okay. If we sleep with the lights on, he shouldn’t be able to get us, and Chowder’s a good guard dog. We’ll know if he’s in the house.”

Gran nodded and got up again. “Yes, we’ll be fine.”

When Mary crawled back into bed, she pulled the blankets up to her chin but couldn’t get her eyes to shut. She looked at the door and wished Gran had stayed or told her to come sleep with her in the living room. There was good reason now to be scared of the dark.

“Would you like me to sing you a lullaby?”

She startled and looked quickly around the room, though she knew she couldn’t see Max.

“Gran let you out?”

“Yes, she asked me to guard you while you slept. I’m so sorry I wasn’t available before.”

“No, it’s okay. We were the ones that thought it’d be better to keep you sheathed. Sorry.” Actually, it had been more Mary’s idea. Though Max seemed okay, the thought of him wandering around the house had made her feel uncomfortable. Having an invisible guest meant privacy was always in question, but she was okay with him now. Someone watching over her was a comfort. Being alone was the scary option. Max started crooning ‘Hush Little Baby’. He had a nice soft baritone. Her eyelids grew heavy.

* * *
“You know I feel like we’re really dropping the ball here.”

“What?”

Rachel and Mary had grabbed seats in the art room during TAB. Neither of them took art, but it was where the different kids congregated. Goths, garage bands, skaters, and of course, artsy folk gathered there away from the Shinies and regular kids. Mary almost felt like she belonged.

“Vicky. She’s still in a coma, which I’m not really adverse to, but there’s still the Shadowman. What type of superheroes are we if we can’t save one brain dead cheerleader? They do it on TV all the time. What’s stopping us?”

Mary still hadn’t told her about any of the stuff that had gone down since she’d stayed the night at the hospital. Gran had let her stay home on Sunday and rest. Going to the hospital again had seemed pointless. She’d watched television and vegged on the sofa. It hadn’t been a productive day, but she felt recharged. Max had hung out. He’d played with Chowder, so the little red ball appeared to fly across the room and bob back on its own. It had been kind of hypnotic to watch.

“We’re scheduled to volunteer after school. We should stop by Vicky’s room and see what’s going on and maybe talk to Mr. White some more.”

“He’s out of the hospital.”

“He is?”

“Yeah, he got discharged a little after Gran.”

“How is she?”

“Grumpy. She had to cancel most of her appointments for the week because of her ankle.”

“Huh. Oh, this should be interesting.” Rachel’s eyes had focused past her.

She turned to look and saw Kyle. He did not belong in the art room. His letterman jacket and buzz cut head looked out of place among the piercings and rainbow hair colors. He came up to their table and gave her a smile. “Hey Mary, how’s your grandma?”

“She’s fine. All she did was fall and sprain her ankle. She’s home now.”

Kyle’s eyebrows rose. “How’d she fall? Is she really okay?”

Mary ignored the first question. “She’s okay.”

He looked at his shoes and didn’t say anything immediately. Other students were starting to really notice him and look at him curiously, and Rachel and Mary were being included in the curiosity. If he didn’t leave soon, who knew what the rumor mill would come up with?

“Is that it, Kyle?” she asked to prod him along.

Rachel gave her a kick under the table. Mary stole a glance at her. Her eyebrows were drawn together in a scolding look. “Kyle, do you wanna sit down?”

Sitting down would be even more suggestive to the rumor mill. She shot Rach a look. She doubted Kyle would want that type of talk. He was a jock. They dated cheerleaders, though she hadn’t seen him with anyone since his early Vicky infatuation, but that was his type. He might be nice to her, and Rach might have misguided ideas of him liking her, but that would all change if people started whispering about them. To her amazement, he pulled up a stool and sat down.

“What’s really going on with Vicky?”

Rachel opened her mouth, and Mary savagely kicked her this time. She yelped and drew away from her. “What do you mean?” she asked.

Kyle looked at them. She knew her little spot of violence ruined any chance of lying successfully to him, but she wasn’t going to tell him the truth, and she wasn’t going to let Rachel either.

“I know something’s up with Vicky, and you two are involved. Suddenly volunteering at the hospital, visiting her mom, something’s up.”

“Coincidence,” she said and didn’t elaborate. Keep the lies short and sweet and don’t waver that was how to shut someone out. She felt bad about doing it to Kyle though.

“And your grandma getting hurt at the hospital?”

“She’s old and frail.” Kyle’s lips thinned at her answer. He’d met Gran. She might be up in age, but she was not frail.

“Fine. You don’t have to tell me anything. I just wanted to help if I could, but obviously you don’t want it. See ya. Hope your grandmother gets well soon.”

He stood up from the stool and strode from the room. She had to restrain herself from calling him back, because what could he do? How could he help? She didn’t like the idea of him being upset though.

Rachel blew out a frustrated puff of air. “You’re never going to get asked to the prom at this rate.”

“Good. Corsages are stupid.”

She shook her head. “Seriously though, couldn’t you have told him something?”

“Like what? ‘Hey Kyle, Vicky’s been visiting me in my dreams, and there’s a monster attacking her. You wanna help me destroy it? I have no idea how, but it’s sure to be a good time, except for the screaming and the death. Those are a bit of a bummer.”

“He could handle it. He already suspects anyway. Cy doesn’t or rather doesn’t care.”

She knew it was pointless to try and defend Cy. He really didn’t want to know or have any involvement with the paranormal. He refused to even allow for the possibility of it. Kyle hadn’t rejected the possibility. He could’ve stuck his head in the sand and refused to believe that he’d been possessed by a ghost, but instead he had accepted it and had thanked them for getting rid of Ricky.

“I just want to keep this thing to as few people as possible. You, Vicky, Gran, and Mr. White are already involved. No need to bring in anyone else.”

Rachel shook her head. “You’re keeping secrets from a lot of people. I hope you can keep straight who knows what.”

Mary tried to chuckle at her comment, but it got caught in her throat. If Rachel only knew what she was keeping from her, she wouldn’t like it.

“So volunteering after school today?”

Mary nodded. It had to be better than going home.

* * *
Mary was again pushing the hospitality cart while Rachel knocked on doors. They’d left Vicky’s room until last.

“Do you know how many brownie points this is getting me with Mom? If I’d known how much she’d like me doing this, I would’ve signed up sooner.”

“So you’re going to keep doing it after Vicky wakes up?”

“Yeah, it’ll be even better once she’s not here. You’re going to keep doing it too, right?”

Mary flashed on the morgue and felt a shiver go down her spine. She shook her head. “No, once Vicky’s awake, that’s it for me. I’m never going to be good with hospitals.”

Rachel’s glance back at her was full of disappointment. Mary could only shrug her shoulders. Hospitals held no special appeal for her. She couldn’t see continuing, but if Rachel wanted to do it, that was fine, it would just be without her.

They came to Vicky’s room. The door was ajar and Rachel tapped on it before peeking in. Mrs. Nelson was inside. She smiled and waved for them to come in.

“Girls, it’s so good to see you.”

“How’s Vicky?” Rachel asked.

Mary fixed a cup of coffee and brought it to her. She looked a little better today. The bags under her eyes weren’t as pronounced, and her hair was tidy. Mrs. Neilson took a sip of coffee before speaking. “The doctor says there’s improvement. She’s responding to noises, and she’s moved her hands a few times.”

“That’s great,” Rachel said.

Mary stood by quietly and looked at Vicky. She couldn’t see any change, but she wasn’t a doctor.

“You know, Mrs. Nelson, I was reading an article in a science magazine that said there’d been a study saying leaving a light on with coma patients really helped with the recovery.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Mary, you read that article too didn’t you? Didn’t it say that?”

Vicky didn’t have to worry about the Shadowman anymore. She wasn’t the one who needed the nightlight.

“Mary?”

She jerked out of her revelry. “Yeah, it could help.”

Rachel gave her a tiny glare. Obviously, she’d expected a more ringing endorsement.

"Well, I'll try that. It certainly can't hurt," Mrs. Neilson said, though her tone was more placating than accepting.

"It will really help. I promise," Rachel said. Mary worried that Mrs. Neilson would begin to doubt Rachel's mental faculties. Nightlights for coma patients. It sounded stupid.

"Well, we should be going. It was good seeing you. I hope Vicky continues to improve," Mary said. She wanted out of that room. It didn't hold anything for her. It was the beginning of all of this, and she wanted to get to the end.

"What's going on? Why are you here, Mary? You need to be catching the Shadowman, dimwit."

Everyone turned to the bed. Vicky's face scrunched up, and her eyes fluttered open. Her eyes found Mary first, and if her words hadn't clearly indicated she remembered everything from her coma, her eyes said it all. There was a determination to them. A cool regard. Mary felt like squirming.

"Oh my god, Vicky, my baby!"

Mrs. Neilson flung herself over her and began sobbing.

"Geez, Mom..." Vicky said in embarrassment, but she put her arms around her and hugged her tightly. Rachel ducked into the hallway and flagged a nurse to alert the doctors that Vicky was awake. Mary was rooted to the floor. Vicky was awake. It was what she'd been striving for, sort of. Vicky was safe.

A doctor came in and went over to the bed. He gently got Mrs. Neilson to move away so he could shine a light into Vicky’s eyes and ask a few questions.
Rachel tugged on her arm for them to go. Mary numbly turned to the door. "Mary, wait!"

She turned back to Vicky. Vicky’s eyes jumped from her mom to the doctor. It was clear what she wanted to say wasn’t meant for their ears. Really wishing she was having an out of body experience right then to help disassociate herself from current events, she walked over to the bed.

Almost choking on her words, she said, “Vicky, I’m so happy you woke up. We’ve been so worried.” And then she bent down and gave her a hug.

She couldn’t see the other girl’s face, but she hoped she didn’t look totally disgusted. Mary was at least safely pointed at the wall so she didn’t have to mask her true discomfort with the physical contact. Vicky was as stiff as a board against her. Mary hoped she hadn’t slipped into catatonia.

She gave her a harsh squeeze and hissed into her ear. “What?”

“God, do you have to be hugging me?”

She rolled her eyes. “What did you want to say to me?”

“Is it really gone?”

That was the one question she hadn’t wanted Vicky to ask, but she deserved some sort of answer. “It isn’t in the hospital anymore. You should be okay, but you should sleep with a light on just to be safe.”

“Where’d it go?”

Mary was happy to cut the hug off there. She let go and straightened. “Don’t worry. Everything’s okay.” She gave Mrs. Neilson a wan smile and hustled from the room, dragging Rachel along with her, who looked a little green.

“Mary, wait!” Vicky called. She stopped dead in the doorway again. Was she ever getting free? She turned back. Vicky was looking better moment by moment. Color was coming back into her cheeks “Thanks,” she said.

She nodded her head. “See you at school.”

“Yeah, see you.”

She walked to the elevator without stopping. Time to leave. Nothing more to do here. She pressed the call button for the elevator and gritted her teeth as Rachel sputtered behind her. “You--you--you hugged the Hickey! I can’t believe it, and I saw it! How could you do that? Are you okay? Do you need a wet wipe?”

The elevator doors opened, and Mary came face-to-face with Cy. Kyle was behind him like an afterthought. Cy’s lipped thinned when he saw her.

Mary didn’t know what to say. Luckily, Rachel took over for her. “Hey guys, guess what!”

Continue to Chapter 12

Chapter 10

2009-01-30T00:39:00.002-05:00

Soliloquies
Mary walked along the neatly trimmed graves with a bouquet of dark purple irises in her hands. She brought them whenever she came. Gran had told her a long time ago that they were her mother’s favorite. Her father didn’t have a favorite flower, but Gran had assured her that he would like them just as much as her mom.

There wasn’t any special reason for the trip to the cemetery today, at least not one Mary knew. Gran would just sometimes decide that they needed to make a visit. She figured the Shadowman had somehow prompted this visit, but she couldn’t figure out how. She’d thought they would stay home and rest that day, but Gran had insisted, and Mary couldn’t very well say no. Who said no to going to their parents’ grave? She couldn’t even let herself feel resentful. It was important to remember loved ones, even ones she couldn’t remember very well.

Gran would usually drive her out, spend a few moments with her at the grave tidying it up, and then would leave to wait in the car while she had a private moment. Today Gran couldn’t even leave the car. Navigating crutches was too difficult. Mary had never made the trip to the grave alone. It felt very lonely, not just lonely but solitary, like maybe she was the last person on earth.

It might seem strange, but she’d never heard a ghost in the cemetery. She didn’t know why exactly, like if it was due to the embalming process or what, but the dead didn’t linger here. It was ironic but also a relief. She couldn’t imagine what would happen if every grave had a ghost attached to it.

She finally came to a stop at her parents’ grave. The tombstone was a double marker in dark granite. Johanna and Henry Hellick, loving parents both killed May 5th, 1993. She laid the irises on the grave and took a seat.

“Hi, Mom and Dad. It’s me, Mary.” She knew it was silly to tell them who it was, but it was how she started every conversation with them since she was four years old. It was like a ritual now.

She paused a moment as she collected her thoughts. They had died when she so young. A drunk driver had crossed the center line and plowed into them. She’d been in a child's car seat in the back when it’d happened. She remembered them in a vague sort of way. She could recall a sense of love and warmth. Everything else that she knew had been gleaned from Gran and photographs. She didn’t really know them and never would, but she still felt a connection. They were her parents. That meant even dead, they were a part of her life, a part of who she was.

“I’m a junior now in high school. The year has been pretty good so far, I suppose. Rachel’s still my best friend. I’m still making good grades. I got my learner’s permit. Gran’s been trying to get me to drive, but I don’t like it. I’m probably the only teenager in America who isn’t eager to get behind the wheel. We got a ghost dog for a pet. His name’s Chowder. He’s pretty great. Don’t tell him or Gran that I said that. I helped get rid of a really nasty ghost a couple of months ago. He was haunting the house of a guy from school. The guy Cy and I were friends, but we sort of aren’t anymore. He doesn’t like any of the paranormal stuff. His brother seems a little cooler about it, which is ironic considering he was possessed.” Her eyes drifted off the tombstone as she thought about that whole debacle. She really didn’t want to rehash it any further. “Anyway, Mr. Landa is still working on making me a nice, well adjusted member of society. I don’t think he’s made much progress.

“Gran just got out of the hospital. It wasn’t serious, and she put herself there on purpose, which is insane. She wanted to badger an old man for help because we’re trying to stop a Shadowman from hurting patients at the hospital. A girl from school is the one who told me about the Shadowman, except she’s in a coma, and she told me in a dream. I’ve been trying to help her and others, but it seems pretty hopeless. We don’t know what will get rid of the monster.”

She hung her head. “This thing scares me pretty bad. I don’t know what it is. It isn’t a ghost. Mr. White says it wasn’t ever human. I believe him. It’s an honest to God monster.”

She picked at the grass as she struggled to push her fear back. It rose up so easily when thinking about that thing. “Mr. White thinks a ghost might be able to stop it. He has the anchor for one which he thinks will work. I don’t know. He didn’t tell us much about the ghost except its name: Horace Thistlebottom. With a name like that, I’m not holding out much hope.”

She paused again to think. She really didn’t know why Gran had decided that today would be a good day to go to the cemetery. She looked at the tombstone for a few more moments, tracing the letters etched into it with her eyes. “I wish I were normal. I wish I had a normal life. Like I could sit here and tell you about a new dress, or a party, or something and not ghosts and Shadowmen. I try to stay strong. I really do, but I wish I didn’t need to.” She looked up at the sky and tracked clouds for a few moments. She turned back to grave, and her eyes were wet. “You’d probably say I’m doing good and that you’re proud of me, but I wish I were normal, and life were ordinary, and you were alive to tell me everything was going to be okay.” She rubbed her eyes and stood up. “Sorry for getting weepy. I know it doesn’t do much good, but I think I needed that. Thanks. See you next time.”

When she slipped into the car, Gran looked at her silently. Mary gave her a small smile but couldn’t think of anything to say. Gran didn’t seem to expect anything. She just reached across and patted her arm. “Let’s go to Ezekiel’s,” she said. She nodded and started the car. With Gran’s ankle sprain, she couldn’t drive which left Mary to chauffeur. This was the biggest bit of fallout from the hospital incident. She checked her mirrors carefully, turned on her blinker (even though they were on an empty lane in the cemetery) and put the car in drive. Actually, driving in the cemetery was the best place for her. She drove everywhere like she was in a funeral procession. Gran said she just needed more practice, but after losing three hubcaps so far, Mary was beginning to wonder.

“You’ll take a right out,” Gran offered.

She nodded and carefully steered down the lane. She was holding the wheel too tightly and watching the road too closely, but she couldn’t help it. She was in a machine of death. She couldn’t help being overly vigilant. She slowly rolled to a stop and checked the street several times. She pulled out and stayed five miles under the speed limit.

Mr. White lived on a narrow side street above his shop – White’s Rare Books. Mary parked on the street, only scraping the tires along the curb and not going up on it, which was an improvement for her. She helped Gran out of the car.

The windows for the shop were boarded up and a cardboard sign was stuck up that said ‘Closed Indefinitely’, a hand written note was tacked up under it: ‘Good Riddance’. It seemed Mr. White made as many friends outside the hospital as he did in.

They went to a side door and pressed the buzzer. A screech of “No solicitors!” came out of the box. Gran rolled her eyes and pressed the call button. “Zeke, let us in.”

There was a buzz, and Mary held the door. She looked up the staircase that greeted them and glanced nervously at Gran. She’d never manage the stairs with her crutches. Mr. White appeared at the top. “There’s a remote down there. Do you see it? Hit the button to call the chair.”

Mary picked up the small single button remote and pressed it, not really sure what she was doing. In response to the remote, a chair started descending the stairs on a rail. She had never seen anything like it before. It seemed pretty neat. She sort of wished she could try it. When it arrived, Mary took the crutches, and Gran sat down on the chair. She took hold of the joystick and started gliding up the stairs. Mary walked a step behind as she followed her up.

Mr. White was waiting for them at the top. “Any developments since the last time I saw you?”

“It’s been only eight hours,” Mary commented as she helped Gran get back on her crutches.

“A lot can happen in eight hours. I found the sword. This way.”

“Sword?” She glanced at Gran. What was she going to do with a sword?

“It’s his anchor. Come on.”

They followed him from the landing into a room filled with bookcases and jammed with furniture. Gran wouldn’t be able to navigate it with her crutches.

“Here have a seat,” he pulled a chair out for her. She carefully sat down on it. He motioned for Mary to keep following him. She carefully snaked between the furniture and had to step over crumpled papers and dirty dishes as they crossed the room. Mr. White was in serious need of a housekeeper or maybe just a keeper.

“Well, here it is.” Off one of the book case shelves, he picked up a plastic costume sword complete with plastic bejeweled sheath. Mary began to think she was being had.

“This is the anchor?”

“Yes, Horace, this is Mary, the young woman I was telling you about.”

She waited a moment for Horace to respond. Nothing happened.

“Well, what’s he saying?” Mr. White asked.

“Nothing. Are you sure it’s haunted?”

“Am I sure? Of course, I’m sure. Horace just plays dumb sometimes. He’s chatty enough with me and my spirit board.” He shook the sword. It rattled in its sheath. A paste gem fell off. Mary wondered if she should point it out. “Wake up, Thistlebottom. We’ve got visitors.”

He looked to Mary to see if the ghost had responded. She shook her head. From the other side of the room, Gran spoke up. “Maybe if Mary took the anchor, he’ll speak. She’s a natural amplifier for spirits.”

He thrust the sword at her. It looked like something a kid would carry at Halloween. It felt curious in her hands though. Like Ricky’s locket.

She pulled the sword out of its sheath to reveal the gray plastic blade. A cold blast swirled around her raising goose bumps along her arms.

“God, he is always forgetting to unsheathe me. How do you do, my dear? I understand you need a champion?”

“Oh blast, I knew I’d forgotten something,” Mr. White said as he took a seat.

“Horace Thistlebottom?” she asked.

“At your service, my dear, but please call me Maximilian or Max if you prefer. Though Juliet would argue that the name means nothing, I cringe at the sound of my birth name and shudder at the thought of it at the top of a playbill.”

“Okay Max, has Mr. White explained exactly what we need you for?”

“Maybe you could do again with more matter and less art?”

Mary had the feeling that she should be the one requesting that and not him. “There’s this thing called a Shadowman. It feeds off people in the dark. It’s been feeding off people at the hospital. Light sends it running, but we need to kill it. We think it might not like ghosts, though we’re not certain. We’re hoping that you might be able to fight it and get rid of it or help us get rid of it. Bottom line is, it needs to be gotten rid of, and we could use all the help we can get.”

“Fear not, I be no Falstaff. I will imitate the action of the tiger; Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage; Then lend the eye a terrible aspect; Let it pry through the—”

Mary had to cut him off. She feared how long he’d go on if she didn’t. “I get it. You’re willing and able. Thanks.”

“Getting suffy, ain’t he?” Mr. White asked. “Imagine if you had to use a spirit board. Takes fifteen minutes to spell out when a simple ‘yes, that’s right’ would do.”

“Humph, unlike some, I choose my words to flow trippingly off the tongue.”

Mary had little idea what Max meant, but fully comprehended Mr. White, but she kept that to herself. Instead she asked, “What now?”

“Now, we go to the hospital and deal with the Shadowman,” Gran said as if that were obvious.

“What just like that? We don’t even know if this will work,” Mr. White said. Mary let out a small sigh of relief. Glad someone was erring on the side of caution while Gran seemed hell bent on taking this thing head on.

“And how will we know if it will? You got a test Shadowman to try this on?”

“Why am I the one worrying about your granddaughter’s safety? Shouldn’t you be?”

Gran’s eyes slanted to her and then skittered away. Mary wasn’t sure what her look meant. “Mary set out to help her school friend, and the Shadowman is what she found.” Mary stopped herself from correcting Gran’s misconception of Vicky.

“Yes, I know that, but why must she be the one to put herself in harm’s way?”

“It’s just the way it is,” Gran muttered and wouldn’t look at them.

“Gran?” Mary asked. She understood less now than when Max was talking.

“Helena, explain yourself. It’s clear Mary is scared of this thing and doesn’t want to face it, but you’re pushing her along like some sacrificial lamb, and she looks up to you too much to speak up. Well, I’m speaking up for her, and I won’t let you out of this house with Horace until I get an answer.”

A steely glint came into Gran’s eyes, but Mr. White’s glare was just as flinty. Mary didn’t know if she should keep hold of the sword or not.

“Tell me, were these two ever involved?”

Mary jumped and looked down at the costume sword. “What?”

“What is it, Mary?”

“It seems possible to me. They certainly fight like they’ve loved each other once.”

“Mary, you don’t have to face the Shadowman. If you don’t want to, just say so,” Mr. White said.

“But who will get rid of it if I don’t?” Happy to get away from Max’s weird suggestions.

“Exactly,” Gran said.

“Exactly nothing. Someone else can deal with this. You can go on about your life.”

Gran didn’t answer just stared at her. It seemed she’d have to be the one to argue this with Mr. White. “Who else can deal with it? You said no one really knew how to get rid of these things, but we at least have a plan. We should try. We’re the only hope for those people in the hospital, of which you were one just this morning.”

Mr. White shook his head. “This isn’t your burden.”

“Then whose is it? If not me, who? Just give me a name, and I’ll leave it to them.”

Mr. White didn’t reply.

“She will do this with or without your help, Zeke. Accept it. Now, Mr. Thistlebottom, would you be willing to come with us and assist?”

“Quite, my dear madam. It would be an honor.” Mary nodded her head to indicate his answer. Gran pulled herself up with her crutches.

“We could use your help too, Zeke if you want to offer it, but we will do this.”

Mr. White threw his arms up and turned away from them. She appreciated his concern for her but knew she was the only one who could do anything.

“I know you’re just trying to look out for me, but if something isn’t done, people will die. A lot of people may have already. Don’t you think we should stop it?”

Mr. White looked over his shoulder at her. “But what if something happens to you?”

Mary really didn’t know what to say to that.

Continue to Chapter 11

Chapter 9

2009-01-29T23:17:00.002-05:00

Ignore the Dead
Mary tried to keep the flashlight beam on the Shadowman, but he was moving too fast. It was useless. The beam was too small, and the Shadowman was moving too fast. She decided to make a dash for it back to the stairwell.

As she ran, she held the flashlight over her shoulder and blindly swept the beam behind her in an attempt to keep it back, but the chittering sound kept pace with her. Chowder continued to snarl, but he did so from his body tucked safely under her arm.

She reached the stairwell door, and her tug slammed her into it. Locked? She didn’t understand how that could’ve happened. This was definitely bad luck, and she decided it being unlocked had been bad luck as well. She pulled as hard as she could, but the door didn’t even rattle. She turned back. The Shadowman was lurking at the mouth of the passage. The weak fluorescent lights began to flicker, and the darkness between each flicker lengthened.

She jumped when a shiver skimmed her leg. Chowder had dropped from his body. “Chowder, get back here!”

The little dog barked sharply, and the Shadowman hissed. She saw his red eyes go to a point on the floor between them. It must be able to see ghosts. She wasn’t sure if that meant anything, but at least, she knew where Chowder was. Chowder must have darted down the hall because she saw the Shadowman turn around. She began creeping back down the passage. She could hear Chowder barking. When she was about six feet from the Shadowman’s back, she aimed the flashlight at it and hit the power button. It hit him square in the back. He hissed and swooped out of the way. Chowder barked again. She rushed to the end of the passage and peered among the machinery. Where had they both gone?

A flash of light caught her eye. She turned and saw the edge of a swinging door as it slipped shut. Chowder barked again. He’d found a way out for her. Scanning the room for the Shadowman, she ran to the hidden door.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Shadowman swoop at her, she pivoted away, but she lost her balance and fell onto her back on the chilly cement floor. Tears sprang to her eyes. Before she could bring the flashlight up, he was gone. She scrambled to her feet, and swinging the flashlight blindly all around her, she ran to the door. She pushed through and ran into another corridor with dim fluorescent lights running down the center of the ceiling. Another set of swinging door flapped at the other end. She ran toward them, trusting Chowder’s instincts. There was a roar from the mechanical room. It sounded like a boiler coming on, but it was the Shadowman.

She dashed through the second set of swinging doors and was relieved to find herself in a better lit passage, but she didn’t know where she was or how to get out. “Chowder?” she whispered.

She heard an elevator ding. She went down the corridor and peeked around the corner. A couple of orderlies had exited an elevator. They began coming her way.

She moved back and looked for a place to hide. She still didn’t want to be caught. Chowder barked again, and a swinging door flapped. She quickly slipped into the room and immediately crumbled to the floor clutching her head.

“I was only going to get a jug of milk.” “Hope Ron finds someone else.” “Probably shouldn’t have done that.” “About time.” “Hello?” “What happened?” “Wait, I think I made a mistake.” “Bitch, stuck me!”

She didn’t need to look over her shoulder to know what was in the room. Two rows of gurneys lined the walls, and on each gurney was a body with a toe tag. She wanted to bolt back outside, but a sharp tug on her pant’s leg kept her in place. Chowder was keeping his wits about him. She on the other hand felt like she was losing her mind. She was vaguely aware of the orderlies walking by. The voices in the room drowned out their muted conversation.

“Mom always said to look both ways. Can’t believe something like this got me.” “He’s never good alone. His apartment was a pig sty before I moved in, but he began picking up after himself when I started living there.”“But it was SO awesome. I mean like Guinness Book awesome.” “Can’t believe they dragged it out so long.” “Are you all right?” “Where am I?” “I told the shrink the meds weren’t working.” “Gonna get her for this.”

She tried to block out the voices, but she wasn’t hearing them with her ears. She didn’t know how she heard ghosts. She just did. Now they were crowding her mind, and it hurt.

“At least I wasn’t running with scissors.” “Just needs someone around to tidy up for.” “Hope they got it on tape. I’ll be legendary.” “Idiots.” “Can I help you?” “I was asleep I think.” “I don’t think this made things better.” “Nobody hurts me and gets away with it.”

She needed to get out before the ghosts figured out she was there. It sounded like one already was aware of her. She clenched her jaw to make sure she didn’t respond. If they became aware of her, the situation would be worse. Talking around her hurt, but if they began talking to her, her brain would fry. Too much input or something. She just knew it was bad. She peeked out the small window in the door and saw the orderlies coming back. She ducked down again and waited for them to go. They walked back to the elevator, the doors dinged, and then three quarters of the lights turned off. Things had just gotten worst.

The chittering was instantly outside the morgue doors. Chowder began barking again. She blindly backed away from the doors and jostled a gurney. She was shaking.

“What’s that?” “Who’s there?” “What is that thing?” “Whoa.” “Is that what you’re hiding from?” “What now?” “Don’t like this.” “What the hell?”

Mary’s mind raced. She had the flashlight and Chowder. She was in a room full of ghosts. They were aware of the Shadowman. She didn’t know how she could use that.

The Shadowman began slipping into the room through the crease between the doors. She raised the flashlight and hit him with the beam. He slipped back outside, but he had her cornered. There wasn’t any other way out of the room. She was shaking so bad that the flashlight beam jumped wildly over the door. It was difficult to keep it along the seam. She needed help and the only help she had was dead. She knew it was a bad idea, but it was the only one she had. She cleared her throat and said, “I need help.”

“What’d she say?” “Who is she?” “That thing is not cool.” “She shouldn’t be here.” “How can I help?” “Will someone tell me what’s going on!” “I used to cry a lot too.” “Want her to blubber like that.”

She clutched her head and doubled over. “Please, I need help! Can someone turn on the lights? That thing will go away if there’s light!”

“Is she talking to us?” “Poor girl.” “This is like having front seats at a horror movie.” “You should be more careful.” “I’ll see what I can do.” “Am I dead?” “I used to be afraid of the dark too.” “Ha-ha, it’s going to get you.”

She crumbled to her knees. There was so much pressure on her head. Their words piled on her like rocks.

“One at a time! Can’t you speak one at a time! What good is all this chattering over each other?”

“She can hear us?” “She can hear us?” “She can hear us?” “She can hear us?” “She can hear us?” “She can hear us?” “She can hear us?”

Mary whimpered. Chowder barked sharply. She winced and stroked his head. She didn’t need him to add his voice to the cacophony as well. She kept an eye on the morgue doors. Her flashlight’s beam rested on one of the windows. The Shadowman was still out there. He was making the purring sound now.

“Miss, you can hear us?”

She pulled her eyes away from the doors to look back into the room. Her eyes skittered over the gurneys. She may be talking to ghosts, but dealing with evidence of their death was not easy for her. It sounded like the one who had been struck by a car had spoken.

“Yeah, I can hear you.”

“Do you know what’s going to happen to us?”

She shook her head.

“But we’re dead?” This was spoken by the one who it sounded like had passed in his sleep. Ironic how people said that was the most peaceful way to die, but it seemed to be very disorienting for the ones who suffered it.

“Yeah, you’re dead. You’ll go somewhere. I know that much. You aren’t stuck here. It may just take a few days. Don’t try to stick around. Trust me. It isn’t better than what’s next.”

“How do you know that? You just said you don’t know where we’re going.” This was said by the woman who was worried about her boyfriend or husband.

“I know because I’ve met other ghosts. None of them have been happy. Most of them ended up twisted and unhappy.”

“Your dog seems happy.” This was from the girl who had committed suicide.

Mary glanced down at Chowder’s furry head. “Yeah, but are you a dog?”

No one replied.

Suddenly the lights began flickering on. Relief coursed through her as she looked up at the slowly warming fluorescents. There was a screech from the hallway and a crash. She crept to the morgue doors and warily stuck her head out. The hallway was lit and the doors to the mechanical room flapped.

“It’s gone. What was that thing?”

“It’s called a Shadowman. You don’t need to worry about it. Thank you for turning on the lights.”

“Will you be all right?”

“Yeah, I’m going back to my gran’s room. Thanks again.”

“Be careful.”

“Thanks.”

“Tell my wife I love her.” “Tell Ron to remember me by being happy.” “Hey, could you check to see if I’m on Youtube?” “Can you make sure they honor my wishes?” “You better hurry.” “Are you sure I’m dead?” “Wait, could you tell my parents I’m sorry!” “Tell my cheating girlfriend to sleep with one eye open.”

Mary didn’t have the energy anymore to run. She kept her head down as she stumbled to the elevator. The voices trailed her, but she tried to ignore them. She repeatedly pressed the call button. This was what she’d dreaded happening. Not only were all of their voices making her head throb, their requests were impossible. She couldn’t impart any last messages or fulfill requests. They were dead, and she had to live her life.

“Tell her I’m sorry.” “Ron needs to find someone nice. Make sure he knows he needs to find someone nice.” “Ooh, I wonder how many views it’s gotten. I bet it’s gotten a ton. Read me the comments. I bet they’re awesome.” “There better not be any funny business over my will. Tell them I wanted it all to go to charity, and they should grow up.” “Take care.” “I think you’re lying. I don’t feel dead.” “If I had another chance, I wouldn’t have taken the pills. Tell them.” “Better yet, slap her. Say it’s from Miguel.”

She practically fell through the elevator doors when they opened. “Wait, when will you be back?” “Don’t go yet.” “Hey, you’ll need my screen name.” “Don’t you need my address?” “Get some rest. It looks like you need it.” “Wait, come back.” “You didn’t even get my name!” “Bitch, you’re as useless as her.” She pushed the button for two and let out a sigh as the doors closed. Alone in the elevator, she slid down the wall and held Chowder close, relieved by the silence.

She shuffled back to the hospital room feeling wiped out. She just wanted to curl up and go to sleep, though she wasn’t looking forward to doing that in the closet, but sunrise was still hours away. She let herself into the room. The lights were still on, and Gran and Mr. White were still awake. Mr. White seemed relieved by her return. Gran, on the other hand, looked annoyed.

“Well, what did you find out?”

Mary dropped into a chair and set Chowder down. “I’m fine thanks for asking.”

“I can see that you’re fine. What did you find out?”
She was too tired to argue or get upset. She just wanted to get some shut eye.

“He went to the basement. He tried to come after me.”

“What else?”

She let her head roll back and stared at the ceiling. “He can see ghosts, and ghosts can see him. They don’t seem to like each other.”

“What else?”

She shrugged.

“I can’t believe this. What were you doing down there?”

She didn’t reply.

Mr. White spoke up. “What did you expect her to find out?”

“How to stop it, if it had an anchor like a ghost, something!”

“Sorry, I couldn’t investigate too much what with the running and the terror.”

Gran shook her head and leaned back in bed. “It’ll have to do. God, my head hurts.”

Feeling that the interrogation was over, Mary lurched from the chair and went to the closet. She crawled inside and curled up on the floor with her pilfered pillow. She could hear Gran and Mr. White talk some more, but it didn’t keep her awake.

* * *
“You’re telling me there’s nothing you can do?”

Mary looked around the hospital room groggily. She turned to Vicky and groaned. She just wanted to sleep. Not have weird astral projection, mind meld, telepathic whatevers with Vicky.

“God, you look like crap.”

“Good because that’s what I feel like.”

“So you went to the basement, the thing chased you to the morgue, and the only way you escaped was by getting a ghost to turn on the lights for you.”

She nodded and then frowned. She was having trouble keeping track of the dream. It felt like she’d been there a while and had obviously told Vicky what happened, but she couldn’t recall it. Could she be too exhausted to dream?

“Mary, stay with me. The solution seems pretty obvious to me.”

She scrubbed her face in an attempt to wake herself up and then got confused because she was asleep and didn’t want to wake up, not yet at least. She was too tired to keep anything straight. “What?”

“Get a ghost to fight this shadow thing! You said it didn’t like Chowder, that it could see it and what not. Well, it sounds to me like that it was more than annoyed by it. It wouldn’t come into the morgue, and all the ghosts in there were aware of it. I think a ghost could kill it or whatever.”

“But it did try to come into the morgue. I held it off with the flashlight.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t sound like it tried really hard. I bet the ghosts kept it back.”

Mary shook her head. She wasn’t seeing it.

“Get a full-grown ghost, not some little toy dog, sic it on this thing, and you’ll see.”

“Chowder’s a small terrier, not a toy dog.”

“Focus!”

“Fine, where am I going to get a ghost?”

“Do I have to think of everything? Figure that out yourself.”

“I’ll be so happy when you’re out of this coma.”

“Me too. Now find a ghost, bring it here, and get rid of that thing.”

She rolled her eyes at Vicky’s bossy tone. “Anything else?”

“Yeah, wake up.”

“Oh, come on! Can’t I have some normal sleep for a bit? I’ve been up all night.”

“Nope, you need to wake up.”

Mary sat up painfully within the closet. Sleeping on the floor in a small, cramped space had not gotten rid of her exhaustion. She rubbed her eyes and peered between the slats.

Gran was awake with her breakfast in front of her. “Mary, are you awake?”

She opened the closet and got up stiffly. She walked slowly to the chair by the bed and sat down. “Would you like some coffee?” Gran asked as she offered her cup.

She took it and drank it half down. “Had another chat with Vicky. She thinks a ghost can handle the Shadowman.”

“This the girl in the coma?” Mr. White asked.

She and Gran nodded. “It’s a possibility,” Gran murmured.

“Yeah, but where are we going to get a ghost to help us? I doubt any we meet will want to lend a hand.”

“I may know one,” Mr. White offered.

They turned to stare at him. “It won’t hurt to ask at least,” he muttered.

Before Mary could ask for more details, a doctor and Mrs. Pillar came in. The doctor checked Gran’s ankle and chart. He prescribed some pills and told them she could go.

“When you’re ready, come get me, and I’ll give you a ride home,” Mrs. Pillar offered.

“Why thank you, Laura. I’ll send Mary to you within the hour.”

The doctor and Mrs. Pillar left. Mary began packing Gran’s overnight bag. “Who’s this ghost who might help us?” Gran asked.

“A guy by the name of Horace Thistlebottom. I’ve got his anchor back at my shop.”

“Horace Thistlebottom?” She couldn’t believe the name.

“I think he changed it professionally, but he’ll probably love to help you out. He can’t resist a damsel in distress. That’s a personal quote of his.”

“When can we come by to get the anchor?”

“Late today if you like. I can discharge myself out. Give me a call.” Mary wondered what exactly Mr. White was in for. She’d never gotten any clue. She had a sinking suspicion it was just to harass the staff.

“Mary, go get Laura. I’m ready to go,” Gran said.

Mary found Mrs. Pillar at the nurse’s station. They walked back with a wheelchair and a pair of crutches. Mrs. Pillar instructed Gran on the best use of them and told her to stay off her feet as much as possible. She helped Gran into the wheelchair. Mary gathered all the stuff and followed them out.

As she was leaving, she turned back to Mr. White. “Thanks for helping us out.”

He nodded his head. “Yeah, I can’t believe I’m not charging you two for any of it. Hang in there, kid.”

She gave him a smile and hurried to catch up with Mrs. Pillar and Gran. The drive back was filled with chitchat as Gran and Mrs. Pillar caught up with each other. She sat in the back seat and kept nodding off.

When they got home, Mrs. Pillar helped her get Gran into the house and on the sofa. She instructed them again on the meds and let herself out.

Gran lay back on the sofa with a heavy sigh. “I think we both need a nap. Go get some rest, and I’ll do the same.”

“Yell for me if you need anything. Don’t try to get up. If you do, I’ll tell Mrs. Pillar.”

Gran swatted playfully at her. “Get some rest, Mary. You need it.”

She didn’t argue. She felt dead on her feet. She climbed the stairs, toed off her shoes, and fell into bed. She just wanted to sleep for a couple of days and not worry about anything. Not Shadowmen. Not Vicky. Not anything.

Continue to Chapter 10

Chapter 8

2009-01-28T22:41:00.004-05:00

Waiting in the Dark
Mary wiggled her toes and massaged her calves to wake them up. She wanted to stand up and walk around, but that would’ve ruined the stakeout. She’d been hiding in the cramped closet for about three hours now. Through slats in the door, she could watch the room. Gran and Mr. White were asleep or at least pretending to be. The room was dark except for a light over Mr. White’s bed. He still refused to participate in the trap. She couldn’t fault him for saying no to the idea. She didn’t like this plan much either.

Gran was in complete darkness on the far side of the room. She couldn’t tell if she were asleep. She had to have her eyes closed to fool the Shadowman, but Mary was watching for it. When the thing showed up, she was to hit it with a large flashlight. Hopefully the flashlight would be enough to scare it away. Turning on the room lights might attract the staff. When the Shadowman fled, she was to set Chowder after it and follow him to wherever he led. The more she thought about it; the less she liked the plan. It all hinged on too much. What if the Shadowman didn’t show? What if the flashlight didn’t scare him off? What if Chowder wouldn’t follow him? What if she couldn’t follow them? It was a little after midnight. The night nurse had just done a check. Mary had been startled to see it was Mrs. Pillar. She’d have to be extra careful to avoid her.

She’d gone into the closet around nine o’clock when visiting hours finished. Gran and Mr. White had kept the television on for the first couple of hours, and Gran kindly put it on Animal Planet for her instead of the History Channel like Mr. White kept grumping for.

Now that the television had been turned off, and they’d settled in to sleep, Mary had been sitting quietly in the closet for over an hour. She was bored and getting a little sleepy. She had a cup of coffee with her, but it had long gone cold. The coffee was from the hospitality cart. Mabel had been pushing it. She’d looked askance at the room Gran had been put in. Mary had heard her mutter something about the cure being worse than the disease.

She cradled Chowder’s body in her lap while the ghost dog slept inside it. She hadn’t known ghosts slept, but she was getting an earful now of soft snoring sounds. She thought maybe ghosts even dreamed. Chowder would occasionally make little snuffling sounds. She didn’t know if all ghosts retreated to their anchors to sleep or if it was just a quirk of Chowder’s. At least she could just shake his body to wake him when the Shadowman appeared.

Listening to the ghost dog’s gentle snoring was really weighing her eyes down. She took a sip of the cold coffee with a grimace. If she fell asleep and the Shadowman did appear, he could hurt Gran. She wasn’t going to let that happen, but she wouldn’t let herself hope that he showed up soon. She tried to review what she knew about Shadowmen, but it wasn’t much. Mr. White had impressed upon her their alieness. They weren’t human and never were. Of that he was sure. What they were was a mystery. They fed off humans. That was sure. What they took from their victims though wasn’t clear. Victims of Shadowmen grew irritable and sickly. He said that he knew of no reports of them killing someone. What was left unsaid was how would they know if a Shadowman had killed someone if they had? Mary wondered how Vicky was doing. She hoped someone was with her. She also wondered about the coma patient they had saved. She hadn’t had a chance to ask anyone if he had family or friends. If he was alone, he was in danger.

She couldn’t worry about him right then. She couldn’t do anything to help him. She had to watch out for Gran. She was pretty sure she’d fallen asleep now. She had a flashlight too. A smaller one tucked into bed with her, but if she were asleep when the Shadowman came, she might not wake up to use it. She might not wake up at all. Mary pushed that thought away. Gran knew what she was doing. Everything might seem up to chance, but she often had things all figured out.

She let out a long silent sigh. The waiting was killing her. She settled back into the closet and tried to relax. She wished she had something to do. Chowder continued to gently snore.

It was dark. Too dark. Mary jerked and realized her eyes had been closed for more than a blink. She’d dozed off. Heart pounding, she looked through the slats of the closet. Everything looked the same. She was about to push the folding doors open to check Gran when there was a soft chittering sound. She froze and listened harder.

The chittering sounded like insects or electronics. It was hard to decide which one. It made her ears feel itchy. Her eyes scanned the room back and forth, but she couldn’t see any change. The chittering grew louder. She gave Chowder a little shake. He snuffled a bit. She began petting his head and sides hoping it would coax him awake and not startle him into barking.

She caught her breath when a dark form rose up between the beds. It shied away from Mr. White’s bed and leaned over Gran’s. “Chowder, wake up!” Mary hissed. Goosebumps erupted up her arms as what she could only describe metaphorically as a shiver dropped from the dog body. A low growl sounded at her feet. Chowder was awake.

The Shadowman was rising over Gran’s bed. Mary cradled Chowder’s body as she hefted the flashlight. She could do this. She could do this. She grabbed the edge of the closet door and wrenched it open. She clicked on the flashlight and aimed it at the Shadowman. The light showed wispy tendrils like steam rising from Gran. The Shadowman jerked when the flashlight beam hit him. His red eyes met hers.

“Get away from her!” she harshly whispered, feeling stupid for having to keep quiet and afraid someone would hear her.

Chowder began barking harsh and loud like dogs do when they know something was in their territory or something wasn’t right. She’d never heard him bark like that. He sounded twice his size. It was a good thing only she could hear him.

The Shadowman swooped up the wall and across the ceiling. She flinched and almost fell back into the closet. Her beam shot wildly around the room as she tried to keep up with him, but he was moving fast.

She felt panic start to creep up on her. They’d expected the Shadowman to instantly flee like before, but he was only dodging her and going around the room. He was swooping from ceiling to walls. He was coming closer and closer as she had trouble keeping up with his erratic movements. His weird chittering sound was getting louder and deeper. It was setting her teeth on edge. She had the suspicion he was trying to get behind her. She did not want that. Neither Gran nor Mr. White had stirred. The room was ringing with sounds to her, but it was silent to everyone else.

“Gran!” she cried hoarsely. Maybe if they hit him with two flashlights, he’d finally go. Chowder was snarling and barking still. His small vicious presence was comforting, but she didn’t know if the Shadowman did get within range if he could do anything to him.

“Gran!” She took a chance and flashed the light across her face, hoping it might rouse her. She was scared to move from the closet’s entrance. The Shadowman moved too quickly.

Mr. White roused with a snuffle. “What’s going on?” he said, blearily looking around.

“It’s here. Can you wake, Gran?”

The old man stiffened, and his eyes shot to the ceiling where Mary’s flashlight beam was streaking back and forth after the Shadowman. “Helena!” he shouted. Mary winced. He was going to draw the nurses.

Gran jerked upright and then winced as her foot shifted in the sling. “Get your flashlight out and zap that thing!” Mr. White ordered. Gran snatched back the covers and whipped the flashlight out. She aimed it at the Shadowman, and two beams of light were darting around the ceiling. That seemed to do it. The Shadowman slid down the wall with the duct.

“Chowder, go get him. Get him!” Gran said sweeping the light toward the grate. The ghost dog ran, and Mary heard the tapping of paws in the vent.

“Well, go after him!” Gran said, pointing with her flashlight at the wall.

Mary froze. “What?”

Mr. White’s eyebrows shot up, and his jaw dropped. “Helena, be reasonable!”

“How else are you going to follow them?”

“I thought Chowder would come find me when he tracked the Shadowman to his hiding place.”

“And how were you going to get there? If any hospital staff sees you, they’ll stop you.”

“But, but…” Mary’s eyes darted back and forth from Gran to the vent. Go in there? After the Shadowman? Seriously?

“Is it even big enough for her to get through?” Mr. White asked.

“Yes, I looked. She should be able to squeeze in. She’s small enough.”

Mary went between the beds and crouched down to look at the vent. It was smallish, but she could probably squeeze through. Gran couldn’t have though. When had she been looking at the vents and judging who could fit?

“I need a screwdriver to open it,” she said. She didn’t say it to sound like she was willing to do it. She said it because she knew they didn’t have one, and she wouldn’t have to go through.

“Oh give me my purse,” Gran said. She sounded irritated. Mary shot her a look. Maybe the Shadowman had affected her. She retrieved her purse and handed it over. She rummaged inside it and pulled out a small screwdriver.

“See if this will work,” she said.

She took the small screwdriver unhappily. Her eyes met Mr. White’s. He was shaking his head. “Helena, what are you doing?”

“Helping Mary track down the Shadowman. What does it look like?” she snapped. Mary ducked down and set to work on the screws. She wasn’t sure if Gran was in her right state of mind or mood or whatever, but she wasn’t willing to question it, but Mr. White was.

“Because I wonder if you’re really helping her or pushing her.”

Gran ignored his comment, though it seemed to have soured her mood more. “Mary, how much longer?”

“I’m almost done.” She could faintly hear Chowder still going in the vent. The third screw came out, and she set to work on the last.

“Hurry up. You’re taking too long.”

The last screw fell out, and she tugged the vent loose. She started to climb in.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Mary paused, her heart lifting. Maybe Gran didn’t really mean it. Maybe this was all some sort of weird test or lesson, and she’d call off the pursuit, and tell Mary that she’d never ask her to do something so dangerous and foolhardy ever again.

“You need to take Chowder’s body to let him keep up with the Shadowman and a flashlight to ward off the fiend. Really, Mary, where’s your head?”

Her face felt tight as she took the two items and set them in the vent. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

“Helena!” Mr. White shouted.

“Will you shut up! You’ll draw the nurses. Mary, get a move on.”

“I’m moving.”

It was with a small sense of relief that she wiggled into the duct and away from Gran. As she set the vent back, she wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard Gran say, “Be careful.”

The caper movies always made climbing through air ducts seem easy with a humorous montage. After crawling ten feet in, Mary could sagely say that crawling through air ducts was not fun, she’d highly recommend knee pads, and there wasn’t any montage to speed things along. She was already sweaty and tired.

The vent wasn’t very tall. She wasn’t on her hands and knees crawling like a baby. She was practically lying down on her stomach and pushing and pulling herself through the duct. There wasn’t enough room for her to turn around either. If the Shadowman stopped and waited for her, what could she do? The more she thought about the whole situation the worst it seemed.

She passed vents into other rooms. Most were dark and silent: Plenty of places for the Shadowman to hide or feed, but she knew he wasn’t in any of the darkened rooms. She wondered though if he had a circuit. People could check in hoping to get better and end up staying twice as long as expected because of him or not checking out ever. Even after seeing the Shadowman feed a couple of times now, she still didn’t understand what he did. She figured Gran had been affected by the Shadowman, at least she hoped she had been. She rarely saw her so snippy and cranky. That thought made her pause. Mr. White may claim to never have been attacked by the Shadowman, but how would he know? Gran seemed to take his attitude as normal, but maybe he’d been a victim too.

A distant bark reached her. Chowder was still out there. He couldn’t be that far ahead of her. She had his body, and he couldn’t roam more than ten yards from it. She started crawling again. She eventually came to a vertical duct. She could not imagine lowering herself down. She peered down it anyway to take a look. It was pitch black. She shined the flashlight down. The beam bounced off the aluminum walls and didn’t skim over any shadows.

“Chowder!” she whispered.

There was no answer. She slithered backwards to the nearest vent and pushed on the grill. It was screwed on from the outside like Gran’s, but it looked like it to a supply closet. She pushed as hard as she could. It didn’t budge. She maneuvered herself so her boots were aligned with it and tried kicking it. The duct was too narrow to build up any sort of swing. After a few half kicks, she pressed her feet against it and pushed with her legs. With a terrible protesting shriek, the vent popped out from the wall. She scrambled out. She banged herself a few times against the vent as she slithered out. The scrapes hurt. This was such a stupid idea. She should’ve just snuck down the hallway instead. It wasn’t like Gran could’ve done anything to make her go into the vent. She kept expecting the supply closet door to open and for someone to escort her out of the hospital. She actually wanted that to happen. She was tired, she needed sleep, and she had no clue what she was doing. Being sent home would be a blessing, but she couldn’t give up and just leave. Gran would have her hide. The whole situation sucked.

“Arf! Arf!” Great, Chowder was back. At least the Shadowman hadn’t eaten him.

“Where have you been?”

The next bark she heard was from the other side of the supply door. Funny how he didn’t seem to expect her to crawl through the ducts. She peeked into the hall. It was empty. She crept out. Chowder barked again, and she heard his paws tap toward the stairwell. She followed the sound of his paws down three flights of stairs. At the bottom of the stairwell, there was a metal door with a sign that said ‘Authorized Personnel Only’, but when she tried the handle, it opened. She wasn’t sure if that was good luck or bad.

The door led into a narrow passage. It was dimly lit, and the walls here were cinderblock. Chowder barked from the end of the passage where it opened up. She walked forward and found herself among large machinery. Pipes snaked up to the ceiling and large air handling units grumbled all around. It wasn’t well lit. There were lots of shadows.

She turned on the flashlight and started aiming it into all the dark corners. “Chowder?”

Chowder began growling and the chittering began again. “Chowder, come here!”

She was supposed to just check out where the Shadowman went and see if she could find anything out about him, but Chowder seemed to have a different plan. Could Chowder bite him? By the sounds of his growls, he seemed to like to give it a try.

She crept further into the mechanical room. She really wished she could see ghosts because trying to track Chowder’s growls as they reverberated off the metal pipes was not proving easy.

She circled round a dark boiler and came to the back corner of the room. She aimed her flashlight into the corner, and red eyes flashed in the beam. She quickly dropped the beam back to the floor.

“Chowder, come here.”

The ghost dog kept growling.

“Chowder, get in your body. Get in your body now.”

She set the dog’s body down on the floor and pointed at it. It was a punishment measure at home. When he became too unruly or over hyper, she would send him to cool off in his body. It was the incorporeal version of being sent to the dog house. Chowder whined. “Body,” she repeated with her finger pointing at it.

Chowder whined one more time but went into his body. She picked it back up and tucked it under her arm. The chittering died down and was replaced with a purring type sound. If it hadn’t been coming from the dark corner, she would have confused it with the mechanical sounds.

If she didn’t shine her light directly into the corner, she couldn’t discern the Shadowman from the rest of the darkness. All right, what now? She was alone in a room with it. What was her next move? She decided to go with simple. “Hello?”

The Shadowman didn’t respond.

She didn’t know if he could understand her, but talking was all she had. “You shouldn’t be here. You need to go somewhere else. The people here are sick and weak. Feeding off them isn’t right. You’re doing them a lot of harm.” She didn’t know where else would be better. The whole feeding off people was a bad thing anywhere, but killing them was the worst.

“Do you understand me? Do you think you could go somewhere else?”

Still no response. Should she leave? She wanted to pretty badly, but what about Vicky, Gran, and everyone else in the hospital? They couldn’t leave. “You’re really hurting people here. If you don’t go away, we’ll have to stop you.” Just don’t ask her how. “I mean it. People are getting upset, and they’ll come after you.” Nothing. The purring sound hadn’t changed any while she spoke. He didn’t understand a thing she said. This was useless. It wasn’t human, had never been human; Reasoning with it like a human was futile. Since he seemed content to stay in his dark corner, she panned the flashlight around again. Everything looked normal. There were several large boilers, air handling units, water heaters, and pipes everywhere. She tried to look for small things. Maybe Shadowmen had anchors like ghosts.

Chowder growled in her arms. She turned and immediately stumbled back. The Shadowman had slipped closer to her and had his dark hand stretched out. “No!” She hit him with the flashlight beam and began backing quickly away.

The Shadowman’s hand fell, and he swooped away, but he began zigzagging back toward her. Like he was stalking her. The chittering sound began again. She had a sick suspicion about what that sound meant.

Continue to Chapter 9

Chapter 7

2009-01-27T22:35:00.005-05:00

Falling Down
As she walked to the principal’s office, Mary tried to think of why she’d been summoned. Nothing was coming to mind. She hadn’t done anything disruptive in over a month. She hadn’t had any confrontations or pulled any pranks. Rachel could attest to the last one. They never did a prank without the other. Which reminded her, they really needed to do something. She’d have to think on it. She’d already decided to target the student government this time. They’d been harping on about some trip to D.C. and had been having bake sales, car washes, and donation drives to raise money. She’d taken offense to the donation drive. Why should she give money to buy plane tickets for kids who drove Beemers?

When she entered the principal’s office, the secretary smiled at her. The way she smiled put her on guard. The secretary never smiled at her, and this smile hadn’t been a cheery smile. It was a pitying one. The secretary led her back to the office. Principal Hoke and Mr. Landa were inside. Principal Hoke and she had never met under pleasant circumstances, and this time looked to be no better, but this time, she wasn't going to be given ISS.

“Mary, please have a seat.”

She sat down, but the principal and Mr. Landa remained standing. Principal Hoke had both her hands clasped before her, and Landa had his in his pockets, but their stances weren’t relaxed. They looked stiff.

“Mary, there’s been an accident.”

At that statement, she went still. Goosebumps erupted over her body, and sweat broke out. She was startled when Mr. Landa pulled a chair up beside her and took a seat. She looked at him with wide eyes. He put a hand on her back. “Your grandmother fell in the hospital. She’s been admitted.”

“Will she be all right?”

He patted her back. It made the muscles there tense up. “I’ll give you a ride to the hospital.” His non-answer made her tense up more.

“Mary, I’m very sorry. Let us know if there’s anything we can do.”

“Thanks, Ms. Hoke.” In a slight daze, she stood and followed Mr. Landa out. The bell hadn’t wrung yet for next class. Students were milling in the entryway. Mr. Landa walked close to her.

“Mary!” She looked up at Rachel’s call. She and Kyle were standing at the stairway entrance. Mr. Landa paused to let her speak to them. Rachel rushed up.

“What’s going on?”

“Gran’s been hurt.”

“What?” Rachel put her arm around her.

“They say she fell. Mr. Landa’s taking me to the hospital.”

“I’m coming too.”

Mr. Landa jumped into the conversation. “I’m sorry Rachel, but you need to go to class.”

Rachel turned to glare at him. “I love her too!”

“That may be, but the hospital will only allow family to see her right now. You can come by after school during visiting hours.”

“It’s okay, Rach. I’ll see you in a little while.”

Rachel nodded and gave her hug. “Don’t do anything stupid until I get there,” she whispered.

Mary nodded and hugged her back. Her eyes met Kyle’s over Rach’s shoulder. He looked uncomfortable. She gave him a small smile. “Hope everything’s okay,” he offered.

She nodded. The bell rang. Mr. Landa began going to the main doors again. She followed behind to the staff parking lot. She didn’t know what car he drove. She was surprised when the black Kia Amante’s lights blinked. She’d figured him for a Chevy Corsair or maybe an Ugo.

She got into the passenger seat. “Thanks for giving me a ride,” she said as she buckled her seat belt.

“It’s no problem. I’m glad I can help. Do you know why your grandmother was at the hospital?”

“She was going to see an old friend. I met him while volunteering, and she was going to talk to him.”

Landa nodded absently as he backed out. “How’s volunteering?”

“It’s okay. Everyone seems really nice.”

“That’s good. So you’re friends with Kyle?”

Mary got the feeling that this was no longer a simple favor for her but a scheduled session. “Yeah, I guess. I’m friends with his brother, so I guess I’m friends with him.”

“Vicky and Cyrus are close.”

She slouched down in her seat and fixed her eyes on the windshield. Why did everyone feel the need to discuss this with her? “Yeah, they like each other.”

“But you and Vicky have never gotten along.”

“No, but we’re doing okay now.”

His eyes slanted to her. “Since she’s been in a coma?”

She knew what he was thinking, but she wasn’t being sarcastic. “Yeah, we talk all the time now.”

He shook his head.

“I do want Vicky to get better. I may not particularly like her, but her parents and Cy care about her so I want her to get better.”

“That’s good.”

“Do you know anything about Gran?”

He didn’t answer. She wanted to curl into a little ball. What had happened to Gran?

They arrived at the hospital in silence. Mr. Landa pulled up at the front. She opened the door and had one foot out when she turned back. “Thanks for the lift. I got it from here.”

“Are you sure?”

She glanced toward the hospital. “I know the layout pretty well. I’ll get the room number from information. I’m sure you need to get back to school. Mrs. Pillar is here if I need anything. Don’t worry about me.”

“I’m not worried. I just want to make sure that you’re okay.”

“Aren’t those the same thing?”

He gave her a small grin. “A little. Will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine. Once I see Gran, everything will be okay.”

He looked at her for a moment as if he were determining whether she was telling the truth. Mary was getting antsy. She wanted to get inside now. He finally nodded. “If you need anything, give me a call.”

She nodded and closed the door with a wave and strode into the hospital. Once she was inside, she faltered. What had happened to Gran? How was she? She wanted to know, but she was scared. The hospital appeared no different than when she was there last night. Patients and staff went about their business as usual, but it was different this time. Someone she cared about was here. Her first stop was the patient information desk. The woman working it smiled sunnily at her. She couldn’t return even a half smile. “Could you tell me what room Helena Dubont is in, please?”

She looked up the name in her computer. “She was put in room 224.”

Mary recognized that number. She started for the elevators before the receptionist looked up from her computer screen.

The elevator was empty when she got on it. “What floor, please?”

“Two. Did the Shadowman attack my grandmother?” The button for two lit up, but the ghost did not reply. “Do you know anything about what happened to my grandmother?”

Still the ghost didn’t answer. Why wouldn’t anyone tell her anything? She crossed her arms and tapped her feet. “Do you know anything about what’s going on in this hospital?”

“Second floor.”

The elevator stopped, and the doors slid open. “Thanks,” Mary grumbled and strode out. She quickly turned down the hall to room 224. As she reached to open the door, raised voices stopped her.

“You are so full of it! Tolliver’s book was a crock, and you know it!”

“He got the alignment right, didn’t he?”

“Pure chance! He doesn’t know his Manipura chakra from a bleeding ulcer!”

She pushed the door open slowly and peeked in. Gran was sitting up with her left foot suspended over the bed. She looked flushed and ornery. Mr. White was rather rosy in the cheeks as well.

“Gran?”

“Mary! Oh no, I told the hospital not to call the school.”

She went to the bed and stared at her suspended foot. It wasn’t in a cast. It was in an ace bandage. “I thought the Shadowman had gotten you.”

“No, tell her really why you’re here!” Mr. White said.

Mary glanced at him and then back at her. “Gran?”

“Don’t pay any attention to him.”

“Did the Shadowman do this?”

“No, dear. I slipped. That’s all. I sprained my ankle, and now I’m waiting on X-rays to see if I broke anything.”

“If you believe that, then instead of her foot, they should X-ray your head.”

“What’s he talking about?”

“He has this crazy notion—”

Mr. White shook his finger at her. “It is not crazy! You fell down those stairs on purpose!”

Gran rolled her eyes. “Yes, that sounds sane and sensible.”

“I didn’t say you were sane or sensible.”

“Did the Shadowman do this?!”

“No!” They both shouted.

Mary threw up her hands. “Then what the hell is going on?”

Gran’s lips were screwed up in a scowl. Mr. White, though, was more than eager to answer. “Because I wouldn’t tell her anything about that stupid Shadowman, she went and hurt herself so she could trap me with her and wear me down until I tell her what she wants to know. It’s insane, and I’m not telling you a blasted thing!”

Mary didn’t know what to believe. “Gran, is that what happened?”

She lifted her chin and looked down her nose at her. Mary couldn’t believe it. She’d totally done it on purpose. She’d twisted her ankle to trap and interrogate Mr. White. “Have you at least found out anything?”

“He’s a stubborn old man.”

“You’re damn right. You ain’t getting anything out of me.”

"Mary, I'm going to need you to go home and bring in a few things for me." The way she sweetly said it made Mary's eyes dart to Mr. White. He was not going to like the stuff Gran was going to ask for. He seemed to suspect the same. “First, make up an overnight bag for me. Bring my nightgown and robe, also my CD player and my Dean Martin CDs. The television has a DVD player. Bring all the Martin and Lewis movies, and finally, I want my autographed picture of Dino. Got that?”

Every time she mentioned Dean Martin, Mr. White’s eye had twitched. The way Gran had talked, one would think she was a total Dean Martin fan girl, and Mary had known she liked him, but she didn’t listen to his music much or watch the DVDs. She’d probably have to wipe dust off them before bringing them in.

“I’ll give you fifty bucks to disobey your grandma.”

Mary turned to Mr. White. This could get interesting. “Thanks, but I don’t want money.”

“A hundred dollars.”

“You know what I want.”

“Two hundred.”

“Zeke,” Gran said in a chiding tone.

“I’m going to get something for my information. You’re not getting it free.”

“You will get something--a Dino free zone.” Gran had him. She had the same look in her eye as when a client blustered about paying for her services. She’d get them to pay and tip well too.

Mr. White worked his jaw. Mary waited on tenterhooks. Gran started humming the tune for ‘That’s Amore.’

“Bwah! Fine! You want to know about Shadowmen? I’ll tell you. They’re nasty. They glom onto people and feed off of them. People hardly ever know they’re a victim. They just feel worn down and surly. Usually, the Shadowman will leave them about this time for a new victim.”

“How do you get rid of them?” Mary asked.

Mr. White shrugged.

“What?”

“I don’t know how to get rid of them. People have tried blessings and exorcisms, but it never seems to definitively work. No one’s even sure of what they are. They don’t seem like ghosts. They aren’t demons. They’re a nuisance. That’s all anyone is sure of.”

“But they’re attacking people in comas. They may be killing them. That’s way more than a nuisance.”

“I remember you saying that, and I don’t understand it, but then again, nobody really understands Shadowmen. They just are.”

Mary looked at Gran to see her take on this. Gran had her chin cupped and was tapping a finger against her lips. “There has to be a way to help Vicky,” she said to her.

Gran nodded. “Zeke, have you seen the Shadowman that’s here? Has it tried to sneak into your room?”

Mr. White hunched over. “Yeah, it has, but I was always able to send it packing.”

“We need to lure it out and then follow it. Mary, I need you to go home and get Chowder and all the flashlights.”

“What are you planning?”

“We need to track it. Figure out where it rests. I think that will tell us how to get rid of it.”

“What do you mean lure it out? Are you going to make yourself vulnerable to this thing?” Mr. White sounded concerned. It made alarms go off in Mary’s head.

“I don’t like this plan much either, but if we plan to stop this entity, we need to find where it rests and anything else we can about it.”

“How are you going to track it with Chowder? You can’t leave the bed, and you can’t be sure Chowder will track this thing anyway.”

Gran looked down at her hands. She had them clasped together. She started massaging them. She did that when she wasn’t happy. “You’ll need to hide yourself and stay here. I’ll be the bait, and you’ll be the hunter.”

Mary didn’t know how to react. Gran wanted her to face this thing, but she didn’t know what to do. She’d been willing to take care of this on her own before, but now, she felt like this was asking too much. It didn’t feel right.

Mr. White picked up on her hesitancy. “Helena, this is a lot to ask of her. She’s just a young girl.”

“She can do it. I know you can. All you have to do is follow this thing. Learn what you can. See if you can find where it rests. You don’t have to confront it.”

She knew she couldn’t say no, but she didn’t want to say yes. The door suddenly opened, and Rachel rushed in.

“Mrs. Dubont! Are you all right? I heard you got hurt. Was it the Shadowman?”

Gran smiled at her, and Mr. White snorted.

“You ditched school,” Mary said.

“Duh. How was I supposed to stay in class when I didn’t know what was going on? As soon as I saw a chance, I left.”

“I’m fine, dear. Just a sprained ankle.”

“What happened?”

“I slipped.”

Mr. White snorted again.

“Rach, I need you to take me to my house to get a few things for Gran.”

“Sure, wanna go now?”

“Yeah.” She didn’t look back as she left or say bye like Rachel. She felt jittery like she was over-caffeinated. She let Rachel lead the way.

She kept her head down in the elevator. She didn’t want to talk to the elevator ghost. She didn’t want to talk to anybody. She wanted to go home and crawl under her bed.

When they finally got into the car, Rachel asked, “So what really happened?”

“Gran sprained her ankle on purpose. She requested to be put in Mr. White’s room specifically to trap him with her.”

“Oh my God, your Gran is such a bad ass.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Has he told you anything?”

“He doesn’t know how to get rid of the Shadowman.”

“What? After making all those demands, he doesn’t know anything?”

“He says they usually don’t kill people. They just drain people for a while and then move on.”

“What?”

Mary shrugged her shoulders. “That’s what he said.”

“Drains them of what?”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t know what they are either.”

“Well isn’t he a fount of nothing. Does Gran have any ideas?”

“Not yet,” Mary lied. She didn’t want to tell Rachel about the stakeout because she’d insist on being a part of it, and Mary knew she couldn’t help.

She left Rachel in the living room as she went to pack an overnight bag for Gran. She put Chowder’s stuffed body into the bag first and packed around him. She also threw in a few of Gran’s Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis DVDs in case they needed to threaten Mr. White some more. She barely had room for the normal stuff.

Chowder was being playful while she packed. He kept grabbing Gran’s hairbrush and running away with it. It was beginning to irritate her. “Chowder, we’re going for a car ride. You want to go for a ride, right?” she said in the hopes it would settle him down. The hairbrush disappeared underneath the bed.

She sighed in frustration as she crouched down to look under the bed. “If you don’t get into the bag, I’m leaving you here. You won’t get to go see Gran.”

She couldn’t tell if he understood her. Her hand didn’t touch the hairbrush. In exasperation, she lay down on her stomach to look for it and crawled halfway under the bed. This was what she’d thought about doing as she left the hospital. She took a moment to savor it, but she couldn’t really. She just felt stupid and dusty. She sneezed and looked again for the hairbrush. She saw it up toward the headboard against a small storage box. She pushed aside the wire box on wheels that Gran kept her romance novels in to reach for it. She remembered the storage box being up on the shelf in Gran’s closet. She’d been too small to ever reach it. She had no idea what was inside it.

She grabbed the brush and pulled the box out. She took the top off and found photos and yellow newspaper clippings. Most of the clippings were from The Huntsville Times. They were from 1980. She sorted through them. They were all about a missing teenager named Cathy Moore. None of the articles said she’d been found. She remembered Gran’s comment about an Uncle Moore. Was she his daughter? Why’d Gran hold onto these?

“Hey Mary, how much longer?”

She jumped and put the clippings back in the box. She wanted to look more at the stuff in the box, but she knew she wasn’t supposed to. She repeated the name Cathy Moore to herself several times to lock it in her memory, but right now, she didn’t know when she’d have time to investigate. She grabbed the overnight bag and went downstairs.

“Ready?” Rachel said when she saw her.

She hitched the bag higher onto her shoulder. “Yeah, let’s go.”

As they went back to the hospital, Mary felt resignation set in. She was going to stay behind in the hospital and wait for the Shadowman to attack Gran. It seemed like such a stupid idea that of course, they were going to go through with it. What other choice did they have? She glanced at Rachel and wished she could talk to her because she wanted to talk to someone about Gran’s plan but kept quiet. Rachel kept her eyes on the road and didn’t glance at her. She was a very careful driver. She had to be. If she so much as scratched the paint, her dad would revoke her driving privileges, and he inspected the car every time she came home. Mary suspected that it was more of a bonding thing now than a penal act.

She realized she had another problem. How was she going to explain to Rachel that she didn’t need a ride home? She couldn’t drive herself, even if she had a car. She only had a learner’s permit, and no one else was around to take her. Saying she’d take a cab or the bus wouldn’t go over.

When they got back to the hospital room, Gran and Mr. White had their dinners before them. “I don’t suppose you brought some cheeseburgers and fries with you?” he asked as he poked at his tray.

“Those cheeseburgers and fries are what landed you here in the first place,” Gran said, but she was only pecking at her food too. It looked like it was supposed to be beef stroganoff except it was rather gray and mushy.

“Do you want me to go down to the cafeteria and get you something else?” Mary asked.

Gran shook her head and pushed the tray away. “No, I’m just not hungry. Rachel, thank you for driving Mary. Your mother is looking for you. I’m afraid I mentioned you were by, and she realized you must have skipped class. You should go talk to her. Don’t worry about Mary. Neil, an old friend of ours, is coming to see me and can drive her home.”

Rachel looked reluctant to leave, but Gran had spoken. She turned to Mary and gave her a hug. “You’re coming to school tomorrow, right?” she asked.

Mary nodded. “Yeah, I’ll see you there,” she said, though she doubted she would be going tomorrow. All the lying was making her feel queasy, but her friend didn’t notice her unease. She wished she would. Rachel gave them a wave before slipping out of the room.

“Now, bring me Chowder,” Gran said.

“You told Mrs. Pillar about Rachel on purpose, didn’t you?” Mary said as she brought the stuffed dog over to her.

“Did you tell her about our plans?”

“No.”

“She needed to go. It was the easiest way.”

“What do we do now?”

“We wait.”

“This isn’t going to work,” Mr. White said.

“Don’t worry, we’ll let you keep a night light on.”

Continue to Chapter 8.

Chapter 5

2009-01-26T22:39:00.001-05:00

Volunteering to Help

Mary peered out the windshield to where Gran pointed. An old man stood beside his car in their driveway. He was dressed in slacks and a dress shirt with the cuffs rolled up. He perked up as Gran pulled in.

As they got out of the car, the man walked up. He seemed a little nervous and embarrassed to be there. It was a common thing with new clients, especially the ones with a ghost problem.

“Sorry to bother you ladies, but are you Mrs. Dubont?”

Gran shut her door and reached out her hand. “Yes, I’m afraid these aren’t my usual office hours. I’ll be happy to make an appointment for you.”

The man shook her hand lightly as if unused to shaking women’s hands. “I understand, but I wanted to stop by because Nina Beadley told me about you.”

“Mrs. Beadley?”

He nodded. “My name’s Neil Connor, and I was hoping you could help me. I got the same problem as Nina.”

Gran shot a quick look at Mary. “The same problem?”

Mr. Connor stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at his shoes. “Yeah, and I think it’s about time I got some help with it.”

“Mr. Connor, just so there’s no confusion, what exactly is it that you’d like me to help you with?”

Mr. Connor pursed his lips and nodded his head. “Okay, I guess that’s fair. My problem is I’m a widower, and my wife’s still with me.”

“Gladys?” Mary blurted out before she could stop herself.

Mr. Connor looked at her in surprise. “Yeah, that’s my late wife’s name. How’d you know? Are you psychic too?”

Mary hugged Chowder. “Not psychic.”

Gran quickly stepped in. “I’ll be happy to make an appointment for you, Mr. Connor. Why don’t you come in with me, and we’ll discuss it?”

Mr. Connor followed Gran into her office while Mary went to the front to get the mail. She was still processing the coincidence of two people dating and both having ghostly spouse problems. Was that how they’d hooked up? Did they strike up a conversation one night while playing bridge and figure it out? ‘My wife, God rest her soul, has been driving me crazy by turning on the radio at all hours of the night.’ ‘Oh, I know what you mean. My late husband likes to flick the lights. It’s about to give me seizures.’ ‘Hey, you know what? We should go out. That’ll drive’em crazy.’ ‘Yes, that’ll be a switch.’ Too bad it didn’t really work that way. Ghosts certainly hadn’t brought her and Cy together.

When she got inside, she set Chowder down and tossed the mail onto the coffee table. She took her book bag upstairs to her room, and when she came back down, she found Gran in the kitchen with her head in the fridge.

“Did you and Mr. Connor figure something out?”

“Yes, we set up a meeting for next week. He told me a little bit about his situation, and it’s surprisingly like Mrs. Beadley’s.”

“Huh, that’s weird isn’t it?”

“Yes, but maybe we could use it to our advantage.”

“How?”

“I’m thinking if the late Mr. Beadley and Mrs. Connor met, they might be able to see that they’re leaving their spouses well and cared for. Mr. Connor thinks he knows what Mrs. Connor is anchored to, but he’s just been unable to part with it. I’m going to meet him at Mrs. Beadley’s home and hopefully have a nice chat with all of them.”

“Do you want me to come along?”

Gran shook her head. “No, I should be able to handle this by myself. You have school work and your volunteering to take care of.”

“Yeah, but I like helping you out.”

Gran smiled. “I know, but this is my responsibility. Don’t you worry about it. Now I need to get dinner made so we can eat and then get you to your orientation.”

* * *
“Which one are you signing up for again?” Rachel whispered.

“The hospitality cart.”

“You know that means you’re supposed to smile and chat with people, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

Rachel gave her a look.

“I can smile and chat.”

Rachel continued her look.

“Okay, I can smile. You can chat.”

“Why do I have to be the Chatty Cathy?”

Mary threw Rachel’s look back at her.

“Fine, I’ll chat, but you better smile so much your cheeks ache tomorrow.”

Mary nodded and tried on a smile to show her acceptance of the plan. They’d listened to the volunteer coordinator tell them about how important patient confidentiality was and how they were supposed to be sensitive to the patient’s needs and situation. They weren’t supposed to make assumptions about the patient, and they weren’t to pity the patients. It all sounded like good advice. They got their pictures taken for their ID badges. They went over a map of the hospital and what volunteers were expected and not expected to do. Finally they were split up to start doing their new tasks.

Rachel and Mary were handed over to Mabel, a seasoned volunteer and retired nurse. She had short gray hair and big red lips. She beamed at them when they were led over, and crowed, “Yes! I get the young ones!”

Mary and Rachel gave her nervous smiles. Mabel’s eyes softened. “It’s really good to see two young ladies helping out. You two will be covering the second floor.” When Mary heard that, she exchanged a quick glance with Rachel. They’d see Vicky.

Mabel showed them where everything was on the cart and how to work the coffee and hot water dispensers. Coffee, tea, magazines, and weekly newspapers were offered at no cost. Patients could also purchase small items from the cart, such as candy, toiletries, and stamps. They had to keep a tally of items sold and take special care with the cash box.

It all seemed simple enough except for the stopping and chatting bit. They were warned not to stay too long with a patient while on their rounds, but not to be in too much of a hurry either. If they wanted, they could promise to come back once their rounds were done and sit with patients and play board games or cards.

“That would really delight some of these patients. If you need a board game, just ask at the nurse’s station. They usually have a few stowed there.”

Mary was starting to feel really nervous. She hadn’t signed up to really volunteer, but to snoop, but here was Mabel saying that they could do someone a lot of good by playing a round of Pictionary. It seemed mean not to be willing to do that.

Mabel led them around the second floor. Mary got stuck pushing the cart while Rachel knocked on doors to ask if anyone wanted anything.

There were a few requests for coffee. Mary filled cups and helped Rachel take them in. Mabel introduced them to patients and nurses. A lot of the nurses knew Rachel’s mom so were extra-welcoming. Mary was starting to get dizzy from all the nodding and helloing. Everyone was just so happy to see them. It was making her a bit nauseous.

She wasn’t sure if she could go into Vicky’s room when they arrived at it. She was nervous of who she’d find in there. Rachel glanced at her, and she could see the nervousness in her eyes too. Mabel was oblivious to their tension. She motioned for Rachel to knock. She tapped softly on the door and opened it a crack.

“Would anyone like something from the hospitality cart?” she asked. Mary couldn’t see into the room, but from the way Rachel worded the question, she knew it had to be multiple people in there. She hoped it was just Vicky’s parents.

“Rachel?”

Nope, not just her parents.

“Hey Cy, I’m volunteering with the hospitality cart. Would you like anything from it? Would you, Mrs. Neilson?”

The door was pulled open wider, and Cy stood there staring. His eyes widened when he saw Mary too. Mary grasped the bar handle to the cart tight and twisted it a bit.

“Oh, you know each other?” Mabel said.

“We know Vicky. She goes to our school,” Mary said. She stared at Cy and then past him into the room. Mrs. Neilson came up behind him.

“Oh, you girls volunteer? That’s really nice. I’m glad I get to see you again. I didn’t catch your names when you were here earlier.”

“Oh, um, I’m Rachel and that’s Mary,” Rachel said.

“Rachel and Mary. I think Vicky has mentioned a classmate named Mary…” Mrs. Neilson trailed off and then sort of jumped. Mary figured the only way Vicky would’ve mentioned her was in a disparaging or complaining manner. She had no idea how explicit Vicky would have been with her mother about her loathing of her, but gauging Mrs. Neilson’s reaction, she’d been told a little at least.

Mrs. Neilson seemed to remember herself and said, “I think I will take a cup of coffee.”

Cy was glaring at her. She tried to ignore him, but her eyes kept jumping to him. She was jittery as she poured the coffee and spilled some over her hand. It made her hiss.

“Any change with Vicky?” Rachel asked.

Mrs. Neilson took a sip of her coffee and shook her head. “None, but there’s still plenty of hope.”

“We should be going. Don’t want to bother you,” Mary said, giving the cart a push.

“Please stop by again. It was nice meeting you both.” Rachel and Mary gave Mrs. Neilson a polite wave. Cy still stood in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes locked on them.

Once they were further down the hall, Mabel tentatively asked, “Is the young lady a good friend of yours?”

Rachel didn’t answer. She appeared very engrossed in the floor tiles. Mary softened the truth to not upset Mabel. “Not really, but I’ve known her for years, and the guy that was there was a friend.” She grimaced and hoped Mabel thought the past tense was a simple grammatical error, though the way he had scowled at them the whole time probably made her word choice pretty obvious. Mabel, though, didn’t reply, just nodded her head.

They were walking down the last wing. Rachel had taken charge and was knocking on every door without prompting, but as she went to knock on one door, Mabel swooped in to stop her.

“This room doesn’t need hospitality.”

“It’s empty?” Rachel asked because there appeared to be a chart on the door.

Mabel grimaced and opened her mouth to reply but didn’t get a chance because from behind the closed door, a cranky, nasally voice shouted, “Don’t you dare slide on by! I want coffee!”

Mabel’s shoulders slumped. “Make up one cup of coffee. Black. I’ll take it in. You girls can wait out here.”

“What’s wrong?” Rachel asked. The retired nurse had been so energetic and cheerful up until this moment.

“Mr. White is one of our more unpleasant patients. You don’t have to stop by his room.”

“Quit your old woman gossiping and bring me my coffee!”

Mabel’s lips thinned. She muttered, “I’ll bring you your coffee, you evil old goat.” But when she pushed the door open, there was a smile on her face. Rachel and Mary raised their eyebrows at each other. They stole a peek into the room. An old man was propped up in a bed with a breathing tube looped across his face.

“That sure as hell better not be decaf,” he said.

Mabel set the cup on his hospital bed. “No, it’s full strength with a dash of arsenic for extra kick.”

The old man harrumphed and his eyes shot to the door. “Well, get your sorry asses in here if you want to take a gander. Can’t see much of anything cowering like yellowbellies in the doorway.”

The girls looked to Mabel for her nod before taking a few small steps in. “Young ones, eh? What’d you do to get this punishment? Crash Daddy’s car while high on some Mary Jane?”

“We volunteered because we wanted to. Do you need anything else, Mr. White?” Rachel asked.

Mr. White ignored her question. He turned to Mary with a sly smile. “Like I’m supposed to believe that one is here on her own volition. Bet her skin’s just crawling. Or ears burning. How’s the heavenly choir sounding?”

Mary stiffened. How did he know? She stared at him harder, really looking at him. She looked past the breathing tube, the IV line, and the heart monitor. She looked at his forearms and his fingers. Jeweled rings and dark inky tattoos on his forearms. The rings had sigils on them and the tattoos were pentagrams with various symbols and writing around them. Signs of power and protection. “Anything tugging at you, Mr. White? Pulling you down?”

Mabel looked startled by her question, but Mr. White only chuckled. “Ain’t no shadows here, little girl.”

Continue to Chapter 6

Chapter 6

2009-01-26T20:01:00.002-05:00

The Shadowman
After Mabel ushered them out of Mr. White’s room, she reiterated that they didn’t need to stop by his room ever again. Mary and Rachel nodded obediently, but Mary knew they had to go back. He was their only lead. They finished their shift and thanked Mabel for showing them everything. Once they were free of her, they headed back to his room.

“Do you really think he knows something?” Rachel asked.

Mary shrugged. “He seemed to. He called me out clear enough.”

“What if he’s behind the thing harming Vicky?”

“I don’t know about that. Why let on that he knew anything? I don’t even know what’s bothering Vicky. He had a clue.” They were back at his door. Mary knocked, but Mr. White didn’t call them in.

She opened the door cautiously. Mr. White was still propped up in his bed, but his eyes were closed and his mouth was hanging open. “Mr. White?” she called.

He didn’t stir. They crept up to the bed. “Mr. White?” she called again. He still didn’t stir.

“Do you think he’s dead?” Rachel whispered.

“Do I look dead?” he snapped, opening his eyes to glare at her.

Rachel jumped. “Um, yeah?”

Mr. White smacked his lips and turned to Mary. “So you’re here about the Shadowman.”

“What’s a Shadowman?”

“What you’re after.”

“But what is it?”

Mr. White just grinned.

Her eyes narrowed. “What do you know?”

Mr. White chuckled again and looked at his nails. “I know all sorts of things. Want a few things, too.”

“You mean like a bribe?” Rachel asked.

Mr. White pointed at her. “She’s quick. Can see why you keep her around.”

“What do you want?” Mary asked already getting a sinking feeling.

“Stuff that ain’t on the hospitality cart. At least not yet. Gonna bring me a few things and then I’ll tell you about the Shadowman.”

“That thing’s hurting people, and you’re going to force us to bring you stuff before you help?” Rachel demanded.

“What I got to tell is valuable, isn’t it? Can get stuff for it. Capitalism is a lovely thing.”

“What do you want?” Mary repeated.

Rachel crossed her arms, clearly not happy to be even listening to the old man’s demands.

“I want what any man wants: cigars, booze, and women. Get me a pack of Swisher Sweets blunt, a bottle of JD, and a couple issues of Hustler.”

“We aren’t old enough to buy any of those things. We’re not old enough to even touch them,” Rachel said.

“Not my problem.”

“How do you know about the Shadowman? How’d you know about me?” Mary asked.

“Can see it. How else?”

“What do you see?” Mary persisted.

Mr. White stared at her a moment and then his eyes slid away. “Can just see ya, that’s all.”

“What about the Shadowman? What do you know about him? A classmate told me it was clawing at her. She thought it was going to kill her.”

“Might do that. Better get me what I want quick, if you’re going to stop it.”

Mary stared at him. Frustration bubbled up in her. What he wanted was impossible. They couldn’t get those things. She didn’t even know where to get issues of Hustler. How could he demand these things when people were in danger? She wasn’t asking Vicky for payback for helping her. Rachel tugged at her arm.

“Come on, Mary. Let’s just go.”

She let Rachel lead her out of the room. She took one last look at Mr. White before leaving. He’d leaned back in his bed, and his eyes were closed once again.

“I can’t believe that old coot. Asking us to get those things, isn’t that like corrupting a minor or something?”

“He knows something, Rach.”

“Yeah, probably because he’s the one behind it. He’s our prime suspect. We should investigate him.”

“How?”

“Mabel might know something. We should ask her. We’re supposed to come back in two days for our next shift.”

They were at the elevators again waiting for a car. Mary didn’t know what to make of Mr. White. She didn’t suspect him like Rachel. He had the gift. She couldn’t imagine someone with the gift doing wrong with it. She knew that was probably naïve, but she had to believe it. They were different, but that didn’t mean they were evil.

The elevator doors opened to reveal Cy, whose eyes narrowed when he saw them. Mary’s stomach dropped. Rachel wasn’t as thrown off by his appearance. “Hi, Cy. Glad Vicky’s still doing okay.” She edged around Cy to get into the elevator, tugging Mary with her. Cy stepped in her way.

“What are you two doing here?”

“We finished up volunteering and are now going home. It was our first day.”

“You just decided to start volunteering?” he asked. He sounded suspicious. Mary didn’t know what he could be thinking. She doubted he’d consider the possibility that Vicky had visited her in a dream and asked for her help, and it wasn’t like she could tell him that.

“Rachel’s mom is a nurse. She encouraged us to volunteer. It’ll look good on college applications.” The lie came out without any thought. A while back, she’d accepted the fact that she would have to lie Cy to have any sort of relationship with him. She tried not to think about the fact that she needed to lie to a boy she liked. It gave her the suspicion that she was somehow lying to herself, and she didn’t want to know that.

“Yeah, my mom’s all about creating the stellar college application.”

Cy crossed his arms with his shoulders hunched over. He stared at the floor for a bit before he spoke. “Look, don’t mess with Vicky. I know she has never been your friend, but she’s in a coma. That’s bad. It’s not some opportunity to get one up on her or something. Just leave her alone. A lot of people do care about her, and we’re all praying that she makes it through this. Just respect that, okay? Please?”

Mary didn't know what to say. He really thought this was just one big ploy to mess with Vicky? Her world didn’t revolve around her, though currently she did affect the orbit some, but still, every minute of every day was not spent conspiring against Vicky, and she suddenly knew what to say, “There are over a hundred patients in this hospital. Only one of them happens to be Vicky. We just spent the last two hours going around and helping some of them. We aren’t here to mess with her. We’re trying to help others. Get over yourself.”

She stomped into the elevator and jabbed the door close button. Rachel slipped in behind her. Cy stared at them as the doors shut. His gaze was sad. She’d snapped at a guy who was worried about his hurt girlfriend. She needed to shake off the guilt that welled up. He’d deserved it, and she hadn’t been that harsh. At least, she didn’t think so. She wasn’t going to apologize. Why did she like him?

“What floor, please?”

“Are there any other coma patients?”

Rachel had slumped against the wall. She straightened at her question. “I don’t know. But Vicky can’t be the only one.”

Mary raised her hand with a shake of her head. “Are there any other coma patients?” she repeated.

The elevator stopped in its decent, and the button for floor three lit up. The elevator car began to rise. Rachel jumped. “Uh, what’s going on?”

The elevator doors opened. “Room 308.”

“Thank you, sir. Rachel, come on.” She got off and took a quick look at the room signs and began going down the hall.

“Where are we going?” Rachel asked as she caught up.

“To see another coma patient. We need to figure out if this thing is targeting all coma patients or just Vicky.”

“Was there a ghost on the elevator?”

“Yeah, and he said to go to room 308.”

As they walked down the hallway, the florescent lights flickered and dimmed. The hallway was empty. No hospital staff was in sight. Rachel stepped closer to her. “Is it me, or has it gotten really creepy?”

Rachel was right. Something was wrong. They came to room 308. The door was closed. Mary grabbed the door knob and turned. The door wasn’t locked. It swung open to reveal a pitch black room.

“This isn’t right,” Rachel said.

Mary flipped the light switch, and the room lit up. For a second, a dark shadow was draped over the patient. It was humanoid like a person’s shadow except two red eyes peered out from the head. When the lights came on, it slithered off the patient and under the bed. As if the light switch had also turned back on the medical equipment, alarms started going off. Remembering her training given only a few hours before, Rachel rushed to the bed and hit the code blue button.

Steeling herself, Mary dropped to her knees and looked underneath the bed, but the Shadowman was gone. She saw a ventilation grill on the wall. It must have gone through it to escape.

Nurses and doctors rushed into the room and were checking the patient. Rachel’s mother was one of them. “Girls, get back! What are you two doing in here?”

“We heard something and looked in. I hit the call button because he wasn’t breathing right,” Rachel said.

Mary stepped back from the bed. “Is it gone?” Rachel whispered. She nodded.

Mrs. Pillar spared them another glance. “Girls, you should go home.”

They left the room without any more urging. Mary had no idea what that thing had been. Except for clairvoyants, people never saw ghosts. Ghosts couldn't make themselves visible, even if they were strong enough to move stuff. She'd never seen a ghost, though of course she'd heard plenty. But that thing hadn't been a ghost. The feeling she'd gotten from it was so strange. When it had looked at her, she knew that it had never been human. “We need to talk to Gran.”

“About time,” Rachel said.

* * *
Gran was watching TV with Chowder’s body tucked beside her on the sofa when they arrived. She quickly shut off the TV when she saw their faces and gestured for them to take seats. “What happened?”

Mary sat down beside Gran and Rachel sat on her other side. She knew she should’ve told Gran about Vicky the moment she’d known that her dreams were more than dreams, but she hadn’t wanted to burden her with it, but now, she didn’t know what to do and needed help. Thinking she could do this on her own had been wishful thinking. She still didn’t know much about the supernatural, and the only person who did was Gran.

“Remember I told you about that girl from school in a coma?”

“Yes, Vicky right? A friend of Cyrus’s?”

“Yeah, she’s somehow communicating with me through dreams. She says she’s in trouble and needs my help.”

“How is she in trouble?”

“She thinks something supernatural is attacking her. That’s why I signed up to volunteer at the hospital. I wanted to see if I could find out what could be hurting her. And I did find something out. I met a patient who seemed to know stuff. He said he’d tell me about what’s doing this, but he wanted Rach and me to get him things that we can’t get, like cigars, alcohol, and porno mags.”

“Good Lord, who in blazes would ask that of teenage girls?”

“His name’s Mr. White. I don’t—”

“Ezekiel White?”

“I don’t know his first name. He’s an old man with white hair. He has the gift. He knew straight away about me.”

Gran nodded her head. “Ezekiel White.”

“You know him, Mrs. Dubont?”

A faraway look came into her eyes. “Yes, a long time ago. He was a rare book dealer and occultist. His shop has been closed for years. I thought he’d retired and moved away.”

“Tell her about what the thing attacking coma patients,” Rachel said.

“Mr. White called it a Shadowman.”

Gran’s eyes widened. “Are you sure? Is that exactly what he said?”

“Yeah, and we saw it. It was lying on top of a coma patient, not Vicky, when we turned on the lights. It left, but it was a black misty form with red eyes.”

Gran shook her head and got up. “This is bad, girls. You two should not be dealing with this. Leave it to me. I’ll talk to Ezekiel and work on removing the Shadowman. Don’t worry about it anymore. Your friend will be fine.”

“Gran, let us help.”

“No, I’ll take care of it. I mean it. You both should probably not volunteer anymore until I’ve dealt with this.”

“Gran…”

“I mean it, Mary. Do as I say. This is far too dark for you. You too, Rachel. Swear to me that you won’t go to the hospital until I say it’s safe.”

“We swear, Gran. Just be careful.”

“I’m always careful, dear. No need to worry about me.”

* * *
“So what have you found out?”

Mary would really like it when she could once again claim sleep as a Vicky-free zone. She turned to the girl in the hospital bed. “There is something supernatural attacking coma patients, but I think if someone’s with you, and you keep the lights on, you should be fine.”

“Oh, that should be simple to manage. I’ll just--Oh whoops! I’m in a coma!”

“Don’t worry. My grandmother is coming to the hospital to deal with this thing. You’ll be fine. She knows this stuff.”

“Is your grandmother a real witch? I always thought so, but…”

“She’s not a witch. She’s a fortuneteller and a medium. She doesn’t cast spells or perform ceremonies.”

“Then what’s she going to do?”

Mary didn’t answer because she had no idea. She wished she’d gotten more information from Mr. White. Instead, she asked, "Has the Shadowman bothered you any since last time?”

“Not really. I’ve felt him sort of pass by a few times, but he hasn’t come after me again.”

“Probably because your mom and Cy are with you.”

“You saw my mom?”

“She seems nice. She really cares about you.”

Vicky looked away. “Well, she is my mom.”

“You’re going to be okay.”

Vicky didn’t turn her eyes back to her. She looked toward the end of her bed with a small furrow between her brows. “Even if this thing is taken care of, it doesn’t mean I’ll wake up.”

“You don’t know that.”

“This thing didn’t put me in a coma.”

“But it might be what’s keeping you in one.”

“Thanks for helping me, Mary. And thank your grandmother. And I guess Rachel also. She’s been helping hasn’t she?”

“Yeah, she has.”

“Then thank her too.”

Mary was getting uncomfortable with the way Vicky was talking. Why did anyone need thanking? They hadn’t really done anything yet. It was like she was saying good bye. “You’re going to be okay.”

“Tell my parents that I love them, and tell Cy that he’s a really great guy. I wish I’d had more time with him.”

“No.”

Vicky finally turned her head to her. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

“I’m not telling your parents or Cy any of that. In fact, if you don’t wake up, I’m telling them all sorts of horrible things. I’ve got plenty of stuff I could tell them, true stuff at that, and if you’re not awake by the time I’m done, I’ll start making up stuff. I’ll lie, and you won’t be able to stop me.”

“You’re bluffing. You wouldn’t dare.”

“Don’t wake up and find out.”

“I know what you’re trying to do.”

“And I know what you’re trying to do too. Oh boohoo, you’re in a coma. Let’s all build a shrine to the poor, unfortunate cheerleader. No way. I’ll tear it down. I’ll spray paint Vicky The Hickey on it, burn all the flowers, and eviscerate the stuffed animals. You don’t get to be a tragedy.”

“Yeah, and how am I supposed to stop you? How am I supposed to wake up?”

“I don’t know, but you’ll figure it out. You better. You don’t want to leave me out here to do as I please, and I’ll have Rachel to help me. It’ll be fun.”

Vicky glowered at her from the hospital bed and then the dream snapped off. The room disappeared. Like a phone being slammed. As she drifted back to normal sleep, Mary hoped she’d convinced Vicky to not give up.

* * *
Mary and Rachel were sitting together in the Crafts classroom during TAB. It was Rachel’s next class.

“So what do you think Gran’s going to do?”

Mary shrugged. “I have no idea. I wish she’d let me help her on this.”

“Hey, Mary.”

She looked up and saw Kyle. He was on his own. He came over to their table.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Heard you went by to see Vicky.”

She rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t a big deal. We were already there for something else.”

Kyle sort of shuffled his feet and ducked his head. If he weren’t a two hundred pound wrestler, he’d have looked bashful. “I think it was pretty cool of you that you did. Not as many people as you’d think have been by to see her.”

“Who has been by?” Rachel asked.

Mary threw her a look. Why’d she ask that? Rachel wasn’t paying attention to her. She’d opened a spiral notebook and had a pen ready.

“Well, me and my brother obviously, her parents, Carolyn, Mary-Jo, and I think that’s it, except for you two.”

“Anyone else not from school or the hospital?” Rachel asked writing down the names he’d given.

Kyle thought about it a moment and shrugged. “No, I don’t think so. Mrs. Neilson hasn’t mentioned anyone else.”

“Helen, Brittany, Gloria, Denise, Bobby, Trevor, Harry, none of them have been by?” Mary rattled off the names in surprise. Those were some of Vicky’s closest friends. She figured they’d go by at least once to see her. Really she figured a lot more people would have gone by. She wouldn’t have been surprised to find a bunch of them holding a vigil for when the queen bee woke up.

Kyle shook his head. “I think the girls may have sent some flowers, but they haven’t been by.”

That news made Mary feel bad for Vicky, which put a nasty taste in her mouth. She may have been in a coma and was getting attacked by a Shadowman, but to be abandoned by her supposed friends was the worst thing of all. “That sucks.”

“Yeah, I think her mom isn’t taking it well. I mean she knows how popular Vicky is, and for no one to be coming to see her is really bothering her.”

“Have any of the medical staff been acting weird? Have any of them been overly attentive? Wait, not just medical staff but anyone like volunteers or janitorial staff?”

Kyle squinted at Rachel. “I don’t know. Why are you asking?”

Rachel scribbled a few words in her notebook and shrugged. “No reason. Just making conversation.”

Kyle looked at Mary, clearly not buying Rachel’s lie. Mary knew what she was doing, but she wasn’t about to blab to him either.

“Mary Hellick, please come to principal’s office.”

Everyone in the room turned to look at her and made ‘Oooh’ sounds like little kids. “What’d you do?” Rachel asked.

She sighed as she picked up her book bag. “I have no idea. Bye, Kyle. Thanks for the update.”

Continue to Chapter 7.

Chapter 4

2009-01-25T12:46:00.013-05:00

Mr. Poopy-Pants

Mary and Rachel stumbled out of the library as it was closing at 7pm. They’d gone through the note cards twice. Rachel had gotten most all of them right. “You’re going to ace this test,” Mary told her.

“Yeah, now let’s celebrate.”

“Celebrate?”

“Yeah, me acing the test.”

“Um, I don’t think you’re supposed to celebrate something until after it happens.”

“Really? What about baby showers and bridal showers? If you want, we’ll call it a test acing shower.”

“Why are those things called showers anyway?”

“I guess because you get showered with gifts.”

“Huh.”

Rachel began to bounce. “Let’s go to The Drowsy Poet.”

Mary’s nose wrinkled. “It’s open mic night isn’t it?”

“Maybe…”

She winced. “I don’t like listening to therapy sessions put to verse.”

“Oh, come on, please? It’s my Test Acing Shower.”

She sighed. Rachel had really buckled down while they were studying. She deserved some reward for that. “All right, but a dozen haikus or one sestina is my limit. Understand?”

Rachel nodded and happily skipped to the car. Mary really didn’t understand her enjoyment of bad poetry, but then again, Mary didn’t really have much tolerance for poetry period.

It was a short drive to The Drowsy Poet. It was small café with hopes of being a hip, artistic hangout nestled the corner of a shopping center. It had abstract art done by local artists on the walls with price tags attached. There were tables with lounge chairs, high stools at the bar, and a few sofas pushed against the walls. The lighting was dim. A few groups of young people varying from high school age to graduate school were scattered around the room.

As Mary had dreaded, the small stage was lit with a mic stand set up. As they went to the counter to place their orders, she looked around and spotted something new. There were some internet terminals set up at the back wall. Rachel ordered an iced chai latte and went to grab a seat on a sofa while Mary lingered a moment to ask the barista about the internet terminal set up.

“Five dollars an hour.”

Mary paid and got the login information. She went over to Rachel.

“It looks like they’re about to start,” Rachel said, settling deeper into the sofa. Mary glanced toward the stage. There was a balding guy with a ponytail shuffling some note cards at the mic. She wished she’d brought ear plugs.

“I bought some time on one of the computers to look up some stuff. I’ll be right over there.”

Rachel’s brow knitted. “We could’ve done that at the library.”

“No, we were studying. I’m willing to take part in you test acing shower, but I’m gonna need some distraction. Now listen to emo guys wax tragically about their overbearing mothers and cheating ex-girlfriends while I surf the ‘net.”

“Can’t you wait until you get home?”

“It’ll be too late by then. I won’t take too long.”

“How much time did you buy?”

“How long will this be?”

Rachel frowned. “If you gave it a chance—” she started.

“I know, but I already bought the time.”

She glowered at her, but Mary couldn’t muster much guilt. She settled down at the nearest computer terminal and logged in.

She pulled up Google and stared at the search box for a moment. Vicky really hadn’t given her anything to go on. She typed in ‘claw soul’ and hit search. Nothing useful came back, though she was surprised by the number of Pokemon results. Did people still play Pokemon? She returned to the search box. She typed in ‘bad ghost’ this time. The results were a little better. She focused on reading personal accounts to see if anything was similar to what Vicky described. She wasn’t interested in the ‘paranormal investigators’ because they relied on equipment she didn’t need and their results were usually false. She couldn’t help snickering whenever anyone mentioned EVP’s. How could anyone think a ghost’s voice would appear on a recording device? And the recordings...She’d listened to some of those clips over and over again and could not hear the ‘words’ the investigators were adamant were on there. It was static or background noise, nothing else. There were a few accounts that sounded similar to what Vicky described, but they were mostly one time occurrences, not repeated attacks by the same entity.

“Whatcha reading?” Rachel had come up behind her and now leaned over her shoulder. Mary had been ignoring the poetry readings so hard that she’d missed her friend’s approach.

“First hand ghost stories, trying to figure out what’s affecting Vicky.”

“Found anything?”

“Not really. I mean some stuff is sort of similar but not entirely. I really need more info on what’s happening at the hospital.”

“So you want Vicky to bug you more in your dreams?”

Mary rolled her eyes at the possibility. She closed all the windows and logged off the computer. A short chubby girl with violet hair was on the stage. She seemed to be just saying random word with weird pauses in between them. She was really irritating. “Have you gotten your fill of poor-me-etry?”

“Don’t call it that, and yeah, that last guy’s diatribe about fat-free yogurt gave me a lot to think about.”

Mary looked at her askance. “Please don’t share your thoughts.”

* *
The bell for sixth period had just wrung, but Mary hadn’t noticed. The world had shifted a little, and she was still thrown off by it. Cy was across the room. The seat beside her was empty. She was so used to seeing him beside her during English that seeing him elsewhere was playing with her spatial perception. He was sitting by Vicky’s old seat, which everyone was still leaving empty. Mary was beginning to wonder if it had a bronze plaque dedicating it to her. He’d gone directly over to it without even a word to her. He’d said something to one of the girls sitting close by, and she’d nodded her head eagerly. It looked like Mary wouldn’t be Xeroxing her notes for him that day. Maybe her handwriting had been too sloppy. More likely he didn’t want to sit by someone who didn’t like his girlfriend. Girlfriend. The word made her want to hurl.

She put on mental blinders during class and wouldn’t let her eyes stray between Mrs. Myers and her notes. She would only look at one or the other. No straying side to side. She thought she caught in her peripheral vision a sandy haired head turned to her direction a couple of times, but she wouldn’t let her pupils deviate from their strict path of teacher and notes. She was here to learn. She was determined to learn. Maybe she’d make honor roll this quarter. She should focus on school more anyway. It would serve her well later in life. Better than silly friendships that couldn’t take a bit of snarking or disagreement. She may have ripped through the note paper a couple of times due to the zeal of her note taking, but it only showed her dedication to learning. She was sure of it.

When the final bell rang, she began collecting her things. She was getting picked up by Gran to go to Mrs. Beadley’s home. They were going to see what they could do about her late husband.

“Hey, Mary.”

Her notebook slid to the floor rather than into her bag. She looked up in surprise. “Kyle? Hey, what’s up?”

He knelt down and retrieved her notebook. “Just collecting the invalid. You doing okay?”

She took the notebook and carefully put it into her bag. “I’m fine. Any news on Vicky?”

Kyle’s brow furrowed at her question. She’d be surprised too if she were him, but she hadn’t had a dream about the cheerleader the previous night, and she was a little worried. She hated that she was worried and wouldn’t admit to it under torture, but there it was. “No change. I don’t think the docs know what to do with her.”

Cy came up to them but hung back a step. “I’m ready to go.”

“That’s great. Why don’t you go wait by the car?”

“Come on, Kyle. Mom told you to bring me straight home. I need to take my pain medication.”

“You can wait five minutes.”

Cy rolled his eyes and left the room. He hadn’t even acknowledged her. Mary kept her eyes low as she got up and prepared to leave too.

“Hard to believe I’m the bad one.”

“What?” She didn’t know what he was talking about.

Kyle’s mouth twisted, and he wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Oh you know how it is with brothers. One’s the good one, and one’s the bad. The golden boy and the screw-up. I’m the screw-up.”

“No, you’re not. You’re on the wrestling team, are pretty popular, and don’t pick fights and stuff. You’re like All-American. Don’t parents like that?”

“Yeah, but Cy’s always been the center of attention. He has that stupid smile which everyone likes. They’ll bend over backwards for him, and he doesn’t have to do a thing.”

Thinking about it, Mary couldn’t really deny it, but she thought Kyle was being too hard on himself. From what she saw, he did just as well as Cy. She looked toward the door. She didn’t really know how to end the conversation. She didn’t want to just walk away, but Gran was waiting.

“Like right now, you think I shouldn’t be making him wait for me. I should rush down and drive him home so he can take his precious pill and mope around all evening while Mom waits on him hand and foot, even though he can go to the kitchen and get his own stupid sodas.”

She was shaking her head and leaning back before he was done. Kyle was getting kind of intense, and it was giving her unhappy flashbacks to when Ricky had him. “No, it’s just Gran’s waiting for me, and I don’t want us to be late.”

“Late for what?”

“An appointment. We’re meeting a client.”

“Well then, let’s go.” He stepped back and gave an exaggerated bow. She skirted around him and tried to keep from jogging out of there. It was tough to keep from going faster when Kyle fell into step beside her.

“So what are you going to do? An exorcism or something?”

Her eyes darted around the hall to see who was listening, but the place was pretty disserted. Everyone had left with the bell. “No, there’s this widow whose dead husband is haunting her, and she wants our help with him.”

She sneaked a look at Kyle. He seemed to be mulling that over. She wasn’t sure she should’ve told him all of that, but he was making her nervous.

“Sorry for venting all over you.”

“What?” Mary was beginning to get whiplash from Kyle’s sudden turns in conversation.

“I know you’re still sort of friends with Cy. I shouldn’t have said all that stuff to you.”

“No, it’s okay. Everyone needs to just open up every once in a while, right?” She hoped her smile was a friendly one, but it may have had more in common with a wince.

They’d reached the school doors. Mary quickly scanned the parking lot for Gran. A couple of horn toots helped her find her. Kyle also looked in that direction.

“Geez, I hope I haven’t made you late. Tell your grandma sorry for me.”

“Yeah, sure.” She took a few steps and stopped. She turned back. “Kyle, the reason people may fall over themselves to help Cy and not you is because you don’t seem to need the help. I mean you seem really strong and together. People might think they’d offend you or something if they offered. It doesn’t mean they don’t want to or whatever.”

His shoulders relaxed, and he smiled at her. “Yeah, maybe. Thanks.”

“Kyle, come on!”

Both turned to see Cy standing beside Kyle’s SUV in the senior parking lot. He looked pretty impatient. For some reason, it made Mary smile.

“Bye, Kyle. See you around.”

“Yeah, you too, Mary.”

She left Kyle and made her way to Gran in the station wagon. She opened the passenger side door and stopped. Sitting in the seat was Chowder’s body. His ghost was there too of course.

“What’s he doing here?”

“I thought he might help.”

“How?” She put her backpack in the back and slid into the seat with Chowder’s body on her lap.

Gran shrugged and backed out of the spot. “Maybe he could sniff out the anchor.”

Mary was skeptical that the little dog would be useful, but she kept it to herself. She looked at the top of his head. He was ‘in’ his body. He did that if he was being held. She gave him a scratch behind ears. He gave a happy pant but finished it with a little whine. She wasn’t sure what he could be begging for, but figured it out after a second as she looked out the car. She rolled down her window and stuck his head out. Gran couldn’t stop laughing at the sight. She couldn’t hear his happy panting or feel his squirming glee. He was enjoying every second of the car ride. As she patted his back, Mary realized Chowder was very spoiled.

Mrs. Beadley’s home was at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac. The front yard was tidy with pretty flowerboxes lining the walkway. Mary followed Gran up the path with Chowder cradled to her chest. Chowder panted happily against her face. He was still ‘in’ his body. The whole day was turning out to be a real treat for him, but if he tried to lick her face one more time, she was going to put him back in the car and not leave a window cracked.

Mrs. Beadley was perched by the door watching for them. She waved, and Gran waved back like they were eagerly expected friends coming for a visit. Mrs. Beadley looked like Sophia from the Golden Girls in a light blue color coordinated slacks and sweeter outfit.

“Mrs. Dubont, hello!” Mrs. Beadley smiled and held the door open for them.

“Hello to you, Mrs. Beadley. How are you?”

“Fair. He’s been rather quiet. I think he knows how displeased I am and is hiding like a sullen little boy.”

“Well, I’d like you to meet my granddaughter Mary. She’s very sensitive to ghosts.”

Mrs. Beadley adjusted her glasses to better peer at her. “Oh how nice, and who is that you got there?” Mrs. Beadley reached out as if to pet Chowder.

She held him out. “This is Chowder. We’re hoping he can help too.” Mrs. Beadley’s hand stopped short of touching him. Her face froze, and she slowly drew her hand back as she realized that Chowder was not a living dog.

“How will he help?” Her voice cracked, and she coughed to clear it.

“We’re hoping he’ll sniff out your husband’s anchor.”

“Sniff…out?”

“He’s a ghost too,” Gran supplied.

Mrs. Beadley nodded, but it was clear she was having difficulty handling all of this. They may have sprung too much weird on her. “What do you need to do?”

Seeing her discomfort, Gran went to her side and put a comforting arm around her shoulders. “We’re just going to try and talk to him today. That’s all.” Mrs. Beadley nodded.

Gran looked over at Mary and nodded her head toward the living room. Mary stepped into the room and quickly scanned it. She couldn’t feel anything off there, but that didn’t mean Mr. Beadley wasn’t lurking about. She set Chowder down and whispered, “Go find the ghost.” She felt Chowder leave his body, which felt like a weird tingle and wander off. She imagined he was sniffing around like a dog would do. She had no clue if he’d understood what she’d asked or if he was just exploring.

She looked back at Gran and shrugged her shoulders to indicate that she wasn’t picking up anything. Gran gently guided Mrs. Beadley into the room and set her in a cushioned chair. She drew another up for herself and gently took the woman’s hands.

“Tell me about the last incident.”

Mrs. Beadley nodded. “Okay. What happened was Mr. Connor came by to fix a short in the chandelier.” She raised her eyes briefly to the lights overhead. “To thank him, I fixed dinner. Meatloaf. He said it was really good.”
“Nobody fixes it better than you, Nina.” The man’s voice came from within the room, but Mary had no sense of his location. She touched Gran’s shoulder and motioned for her to keep the woman talking.

“What happened?” Gran asked.

“We’d just sat down when every light in the house started to flicker. Neil, I mean Mr. Connor, went to check the panel. He’s a very nice man.”

“That’s not what Gladys used to say. She was always saying that he didn’t do his part around the house. You’re too good for him.” Gran had picked up a bit of Mr. Beadley’s words.

“He seems displeased and thinks Mr. Connor isn’t good enough for you.”

“Where would he get such an idea? Neil was his friend.”

Mary spoke up, “Gladys. Mr. Connor’s wife Gladys.”

Mrs. Beadley’s mouth dropped open. “Gladys? That was Neil’s wife’s name! How did you know that?”

Gran answered, “Your husband mentioned her. I think Gladys made him think Mr. Connor isn’t good enough for you.” She shot Mary a quick look to confirm what she said, and she nodded back.

“Well that’s silly. Gladys, God rest her soul, was always a bit of a complainer. Neil was good to her and their kids. Marvin, you’re not being fair.”

Mr. Beadley didn’t respond. “What happened next with Mr. Connor?” Gran prompted.

“He went to the electrical panel to check the breakers. Nothing was wrong of course. He came back, and we started to eat. No sooner than he had the first forkful lifted to his mouth, but his glass of tea tipped over and spilled. We didn’t see anything knock it over. It just tipped over on its own. It soaked his trousers. He mopped it up the best he could, but they weren’t fit to wear. I offered him an old pair of Marvin’s. He changed into them, and we tried to eat again. Only now the food was cold. I don’t mean it’d cooled off from sitting out. It was literally frozen. Neil looked at me, and I can only imagine what he thought. And it wasn’t just the meatloaf, everything had been frozen. The mashed potatoes, the green beans, and the biscuits were all frozen. I can’t believe Marvin would do that to me. It was so embarrassing.”

“Then?” Gran asked.

“Then he took her out to dinner, and she didn’t come home until eleven o’clock!” Mary winced at Mr. Beadley’s exclamation. He had a very strident voice.

“He took me out to dinner. It was lovely. We talked for hours and laughed so hard our sides ached. I had a wonderful time.”

Mary looked over at Gran and shrugged her shoulders. She really didn’t know how to proceed with this. Didn’t cops say domestic disputes were the nastiest calls to go on? She was beginning to understand why. They both agreed on what happened but had differing reactions.

Gran stood up and moved to the center of the room. “Marvin, my name’s Helena Dubont. Your wife has asked for my help. You can’t go on haunting her like this. You both need to move on.”

“Move on? What’s there to move on to? Nina’s my world.”

“There is a place beyond this. You’ll join your parents and friends that have gone before you. You won’t be alone.”

“Who will look after, Nina? Who’ll help her?”

Gran turned to Mrs. Beadley. “He’s scared to leave you because he thinks you’ll be alone.”

Mrs. Beadley looked down at her lap. “It’s true. I don’t have any close family to rely upon. We weren’t blessed with children.”

Mary felt sorry for her. She looked to Gran and had to consider the fact that Gran was all the family she had too. If she lost her—Mary didn’t want to consider it. It was just too bleak.

“I would be okay though. I’m not completely alone. There are our friends. They’ve been so kind and generous.”

“And Neil. He’s falling all over himself being ‘kind and generous.” Gran and Mary ignored the snide remark.

“He’s being a Mr. Poopy-pants right now, isn’t he?” Mrs. Beadley asked.

Mary’s eyebrows crept up, as she and Gran turned to look at her. Mrs. Beadley smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “You have the look. He’s being a Mr. Poopy-pants.” Her eyes got shiny, and she ducked her head. “I used to give him the same look.”

“Oh, Nina. I’m never going to leave you. I’m not going anywhere.”

Gran went to comfort her. Mary felt uncomfortable staying there. She wandered out of the room wondering where Chowder had got to. She wandered through the dining room into the kitchen.

“Chowder?” she called to him softly, not wanting to disturb Gran and Mrs. Beadley. She heard a bark from inside the kitchen. She looked around a bit. It was nice and clean. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She tried to sense the anchor.

Another bark broke her concentration. She opened her eyes and looked around the floor. A cabinet door shook. “Is the anchor in there?” she asked. She opened the cabinet and looked inside. Pots and pans were stacked up inside. She reached inside to pull some of it out to take a better look, but Chowder grabbed her sleeve and tugged.

“What is it, boy?”

Another cabinet door began to rattle. She closed the one she’d opened and reached for it, but the one she closed began to rattle again. She moved back to think. Her eyes wandered to the overhead cabinets, and she understood. She moved to open the one directly over the first cabinet.

“Mary, it’s time to go.”

She pulled the cabinet open and found glasses and coffee mugs.

“Your grandmother is calling you. Are you thirsty?”

She felt like she’d been caught snooping, which maybe she had been, but she was supposed to be, wasn’t she? She closed the cabinet. She gave Mrs. Beadley a guilty look, made worse by the fact that the widow’s eyes were red rimmed. “I was, but if we’re leaving, it doesn’t matter.”

Gran appeared behind Mrs. Beadley. She had Chowder under her arm. “There you are. Let’s go.” She nodded and slipped by Mrs. Beadley. Gran gave the widow a hug and said she’d call her in two days, but not to hesitate to call her if she wanted.

Mary didn’t know what to say during the car ride home. She was totally out of her depth. Being haunted by a spouse, someone who’d spent decades with you had to be conflicting. Having that someone there but not there, had to be a hard thing to handle. She glanced over at Gran and wondered how she was feeling about all of this. Grandpa had past away when Mary’s mother was eight. He’d had a heart attack. There were pictures of him throughout the house, along with pictures of Mary’s mother. Mary had been four when her parents were killed in the accident. As awful as that had been, it was sort of abstract to her. She only had fuzzy memories of them. She knew stuff about them, but she didn’t remember them. She didn’t really know what it felt like to lose someone. Had the visit brought those feelings up for Gran? Was she missing them? Did she wish they haunted them?

She turned to ask her that but was cut off by Gran’s excited announcement.

“Oh, look. I think I have a new client.”

Continue to Chapter 5

Chapter 3

2009-01-16T00:48:00.012-05:00

So Many Questions
Mr. Landa was overjoyed to hear that Mary wanted to volunteer at the hospital. He said it was an excellent opportunity for her, and he thought being in a different social structure would really open her eyes to her self worth.

“What made you decide to volunteer at the hospital?”

“Well, I heard Vicky was there in a coma, and I figure this will give me access to her room so I can Sharpie a mustache on her without getting caught.”

Mr. Landa’s pleased smile slipped off his face. “Mary, the hospital is not a place for you to goof around. Volunteering there is a very serious responsibility. The nurses and doctors will expect a high level of maturity from you. I will not write this recommendation unless you convince me that you will present that while there.”

Mary was surprised by Mr. Landa’s seriousness and quickly scrambled to reflect it. “I want to make people feel better. I know I can’t make them well, but I want to help in some way. I am serious about going there and helping people. Even Vicky, if she needs it.”

“You want to help people?” Mary could tell he didn’t fully believe her. She was going to have to convince him.

“Yes, the whole reason I want to do this is to help people. I feel like I need to. If I don’t do this, it will come back,” Mary’s throat caught as she realized the cliché she was about to say and how possible it was, “And haunt me.”

Mr. Landa nodded and picked up the recommendation form. “Okay, I’ll fill this out and send it in. Do you have someone else to ask for a recommendation?”

Mary nodded. “Yes, Mrs. Pillar has already agreed to recommend me. She’s a nurse at the hospital.”

“She sounds very appropriate. Have you chosen which program you’d like to be in?”

“The hospitality cart sounds good. I’ll go around and ask people if they want books or games and give them whatever I have on the cart. I figure I can do that.”

Mr. Landa nodded. “That sounds like an excellent program. Just be sensitive to people’s needs. The hospital is not a place people want to be, but they have to be there. Just be mindful of that, and you should do fine.”

Mary nodded, surprised by Mr. Landa’s insight into the matter. He may not get her at all, but he could be pretty perceptive every once in a while.

“You mentioned Vicky. I hope you understand how terrible her accident is and how much worry and strain it is putting on her family and friends. Her condition is not a laughing matter and should be handled with respect even if no well feelings are present.”

Remembering Mrs. Neilson’s tear covered face, Mary looked down at her clasped hands. “I know. I shouldn’t have made that joke. I’ll wait until she regains consciousness to mustachio her.”

Mr. Landa snorted softly. “I am serious, Mary. There are a lot of people worried about Vicky. You may not share their concern, but you should at least respect it.”

She twisted her fingers. She knew who was concerned. Cy was concerned. He had come to school that day, but he looked awful. He had bags under his eyes, and he was moving slowly. He looked like he’d spent weeks by Vicky’s bedside. People were already whispering how romantic it was, just like Sleeping Beauty.

“I do respect the concern. I’m sorry I keep making jokes, but it seems unreal. I feel like I just spoke to her.” Mr. Landa nodded. “I understand. Hopefully she’ll wake up before you start to miss her. I’ll work on this recommendation. I really think this will be good for you.”

Mary nodded in relief. The bell ending fifth period rang. Mr. Landa waved her out as he turned to his computer.

As she exited the guidance counselor’s office, she looked toward a side door out of the building. She debated on whether to skip sixth period, but she had to turn in a paper and didn’t want to get it marked off for being handed in late, but she worried about where Cy would sit. He’d always sat beside her in class, but now, it felt like he shouldn’t. He was dating Vicky. She felt betrayed and like she was the other woman. How could he have hung out with her while being interested with Vicky? She’d go to class. If Cy didn’t sit beside her, it would be a clear signal that their friendship was over. He hadn’t spoken to her since the accident anyway. Maybe their friendship was over already.

She took her usual seat at the back of the class. She watched the door as her classmates streamed in. When Cy entered, she felt a jolt go through her like she’d been electrocuted, even though it was him she’d been watching for. She didn’t blink as he came straight to the back and slipped into the seat beside her.

She looked out the side of her eyes at him. He had a cast on his left arm and a serious sling holding it in place. He looked exhausted.

“Hey, how are you doing?” she asked.

Cy leaned back in his chair and stared ahead. “Can I Xerox your notes after class?”

“Sure.” She was a little put off by his coolness to her, but the day had probably been really rough for him. Everyone had been giving him looks and talking about him. She knew how awful that was, but then usually the looks directed at her were nasty and the talk mean, but still it had to be tiring.

She thought about asking about Vicky but bit her tongue. She couldn’t do it. She really didn’t want to hear what he had to say, but she didn’t know what else to talk to him about.

She looked across the room to the conspicuously vacant seat. All three of them had shared this class. But she hadn’t known anything was going on between them.

Mrs. Myers began class by collecting their papers. Cy, of course, didn’t have one. He got an extension.

Mary tried to pay attention. But her eyes kept wandering back to the empty seat. How had she missed this? Why hadn’t Cy mentioned anything?

She was nervous as she wrote it, but she still passed him the note.

So you and Vicky were on a date?

Cy grabbed her pen and scratched a reply slowly with his right hand.

Yes. Don’t want to discuss it.

Mary’s head swiveled to him. ‘Don’t want to discuss it?’ She’d thought they were friends. They ate lunch together. They sat beside each other in class. She’d thought they’d both disliked Vicky. He’d sat beside her to stay away from Vicky!

Cy was watching the teacher intently. He wouldn’t even glance at her. She’d seriously held out a slim hope that Vicky had tricked him into the date, or maybe that the reports were wrong, maybe they hadn’t been on a date. But he was not bolstering her hope, he was destroying it. How could he have done this to her?

She didn’t even try to make her notes neat and legible. She barely paid attention to Mrs. Myers’ lecture. It was petty, and was hurting her as much as Cy, but she was mad. And hurt. If he chose to go out with a girl like Vicky, then he wouldn’t choose to go out with a girl like her. It was simple really. If someone enjoyed bright, warm, tropical islands, then that someone wouldn’t enjoy dark, cold, artic plateaus. Mary sat back and got colder. Most people preferred bright, warm, tropical islands. That’s why they were popular vacation spots. Dark, cold, artic plateaus didn’t get many tourists. And the few who did go probably wished they’d taken the plane to Cozumel.

When the bell rang, Mary gathered her things. “I’ll go make copies of my notes in the library. Do you want to wait at the front of school for me to bring them out?”

He hung his book bag on his good shoulder. “No, I’ll go with you.”

She didn’t reply and exited the room. They walked in silence to the library while students streamed around them in the opposite direction. Mary caught herself glancing at Cy to make sure he wasn’t getting jostled by the other students. Walking against the flow in a crowd had to be dangerous for his arm. She felt like a sucker for worrying about him.

She walked into the library and went to the copier. Another student was already using it. She stood back to wait. Cy came up beside her. He held out his hand. It had a dollar in change in it.

“Here.”

She took the change stiffly and set about ignoring him again. It was what one was supposed to do with strangers.

“I knew you’d be upset if you heard I went out with her.”

She stopped ignoring him. “Oh, so now we can discuss it?”

He winced. “I didn’t want to try explaining it in notes with my right hand.”

“Was it your first date?”

“Officially, yeah.”

“There were unofficial dates?”

“We’d gotten together a few times to study, and there were group things.”

“You hung out with her friends?”

His back stiffened. “It was Key Club stuff. She joined too.”

“So you hung out in Key Club and studied together. For someone who doesn’t like her, you sure do hang out with her a lot.”

“I don’t dislike her.”

She had figured this out. She’d known this, but hearing Cy say it still felt like a punch to her gut. “Hanging out with me must really piss her off.”

“She’s not thrilled with it, but she can’t pick my friends. She knows that, and she’s cool with it, but I guess my friends think they can pick who I date.”

“Oh no, you don’t get to play it like that. I was never the bad guy here. You didn’t tell me squat. I didn’t even know you liked her. In fact, I thought you didn’t like her, Mr. ‘I could feel my IQ dropping from osmosis’, now suddenly, you two are dating? What? When? How?”

“You forgot where.”

“I know where. The movie theater. What did you two see?”

“Moon Rain.”

Mary was really starting to hate this conversation. She, Rachel, and Cy had talked about going to see that movie together. She looked over at the copier and hurried to it when she saw it was free. She needed to get away from him. Forget dreams with a non-comatose Vicky, this was a much worse nightmare.

She slapped her notebook onto the scanner bed and fed the quarters into the machine. She hit the green button.

“Look, I’m sorry I kept my thing with Vicky from you, but I didn’t want to make it into a big drama, especially if nothing happened. It was one date. We aren’t a couple.”

“Now she’s in a coma, and you’re sitting by her bedside until she wakes up.” She flipped a page and jabbed the green copy button.

“I’m worried about her.”

“Is it just worry? Would you have gone out with her again if the accident hadn’t happened?”

He didn’t reply. She halfway ripped out a page of her notes as she turned it to scan the final sheet. When the last page spat out, she grabbed up the sheets, shoved them at him, and stormed out of the library.

“Mary!”

She ignored him. It was what one was supposed to do with strangers.

She walked down the hall toward the stairs. She was trying hard not to think because she didn’t like anything currently swirling around in her head. She needed a distraction. Something to take her mind off Cy, Vicky, and the joke that was her love life. She couldn’t stop the gargling laugh that came out at the thought of her having a love life. Who was she kidding?

“Mary?”

She tried to pretend not to have heard Kyle, but he didn’t get the hint that she didn’t want to talk. “Hey Mary, wait up.”

She stopped and turned toward him, but she couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye. “If you’re looking for Cy, he’s in the library.”

“Thanks, but he’ll find me. I’m not his nursemaid.”

She smiled thinly and turned towards the stairs.

“Are you all right?”

She didn’t turn around. “I’m peachy. See ya around, Kyle.” She began speed walking to the stairs.

“Mary, wait!” She didn’t stop. She needed to get away from school. It was way past time for this day to be over. She couldn’t take anymore.

She was halfway down the stairs when Kyle came into the stairwell. He called down from the top to her. “He’s a jerk. You shouldn’t let him bother you.”

She stopped and looked up at him. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

His face fell. She knew it was wrong for her to have said that, but she was hurting and wanted to lash out. Kyle wasn’t one of the people hurting her, but one of those people was in a coma, and the other had an arm in a sling. She couldn’t lash out at them. She shook her head.

“Don’t listen to me, Kyle. I’m a jerk too.” She turned and finished going down the stairs. He didn’t call out to her again.

As she was walking home, Rachel rolled up in her mom’s station wagon. “Get in, we have some serious cramming to do.”

She’d totally forgotten her promise to help Rachel study. She climbed into the car. “Sorry, I forgot.”

Rachel looked over at her. Mary knew she didn’t look good. “You still up for it?”

She nodded. Rachel began driving again. They were supposed to be going to the library. “Did you talk to Cy today?”

She sighed and slumped down. “Yeah.”

“And?”

“He likes Vicky. He knew it would upset me if he told me. They’re totally a couple.”

“Seriously?”

She nodded again. Rachel shook her head in silent commiseration. Mary straightened in her car seat. “I’m done dwelling on it. Let’s get you all biology-ed up.”

“Now you’re talking.”

“Hey, did your Crafts teacher agree to write the recommendation?”

Rachel nodded her head. “Yeah, but Dad said that if I don’t get my grade up in Biology he won’t let me volunteer. I have to ace this test.”

“Wow, that’s like even more motivation.”

“You say motivation. I say pressure.”

“You’re gonna ace it. Where are the flash cards?” She reached into the back and grabbed Rachel’s book bag.

Rachel’s eyebrows rose. “I think studying in the car on the way to the library is like an example of the absolute reverse of procrastination. Is there even a word for that?”

“We’re studying Bio not English. Now, while studying a cell through an electron microscope, you note the following: numerous ribosomes, a well-developed endoplasmic reticulum, chloroplasts, and a cell wall. What did this cell come from?”

“A plant.”

She flipped the card. “Correct!” She flipped to the next card. “The bonding of two amino acid molecules to form a larger molecule requires what?”

“The release of a water molecule.”

She flipped the card. “Correct!”

“You know Mr. Huchins said that you shouldn’t allow too many distractions while driving, or you could end up in an accident.”

She looked through the windshield. “We’re at a stoplight.”

“One should always be vigilant.”

Mary tucked the cards back into Rachel’s book bag. “Fine, but we’re getting through all of them at the library.”

“But don’t you want to do some research into Vicky’s demonic stalker?”

“And how am I supposed to search for it? I don’t know anything about it except it claws at her.”

“Vicky didn’t tell you anything else?”

“No, Vicky did not tell me anything else.” Mary didn’t really like having this conversation because 1) Vicky was in a coma, 2) Vicky was supposedly talking to her in her dreams, 3) It was something spooky weird, and of course, she was supposed to know something about it, but in reality, she didn’t have a clue what was going on, and 4) Cy was totally dating her. “And stop trying to wheedle out of studying by researching ghosts and goblins.”

“Ooh, do you think it’s a goblin?”

Mary groaned.

* * *
“Ask Mr. Fletcher.”

Mary ignored her and read the next index card. “In humans, primary oocytes are located in the?”

Rachel ignored her back. “Ask him.”

“Answer the question.”

“Ovaries. Ask him.”

Mary put the cards down and looked at the ceiling. They were in the microfilm section. It was deserted because no one used microfilm if they didn’t have to. “Mr. Fletcher, are you here?”

She waited for an acknowledgement. Nothing happened. Rachel could tell she didn’t get a response. “Hey, Mr. Fletcher! We got a research question!”

“Rach!”

The live librarian stuck her head around the corner. “Do you girls need help?”

Mary was shaking her head when Rachel said, “Yes, ma’am. Can you show us how to get information on patients at the hospital?”

The librarian strolled back to them so Rachel wouldn’t continue shouting across the room. This was supposed to be a quiet area. “You want patient information?”

“Yes,” Rachel said. She rolled her eyes a little. Mary wanted to kick her.

The librarian, whose nametag said Elizabeth, took Rachel’s response in stride. “I’m afraid patient information is very sensitive. The hospital only gives that out to the patient, close family, or to someone with a court order. What exactly are you trying to find?”

“How many coma patients are at the hospital?”

Elizabeth blinked. “I’m sorry, girls, but that sort of information wouldn’t be available.”

“How about how many coma patients died at the hospital?”

She shook her head. “I’m really sorry. But that kind of hospital specific information is not available. I could maybe find you national numbers if you’re interested in those?”

Rachel shook her head. “Thanks, but we were interested in only the local hospital. We’ll surf the net for something else.”

Elizabeth nodded. “Well, just get me if you need any help.”

When the librarian was gone, Rachel sighed and cradled her chin with her fists. “I suppose Mr. Fletcher didn’t show up while we were talking to her, did he?”

“No. We should get back to studying. That is why we’re here.”

Rachel made a face, but couldn’t deny her statement. “What is found in both prokaryotic and eukaryotic cells?”

Rachel stared into space. She waited for her to answer. While she waited, she flipped the card and looked at the answer. Rachel still didn’t appear ready to answer.

“It starts with an ‘R’.”

Rachel straightened with enlightenment. “Mom!”

“What?” Mary didn’t follow.

“I can ask her how many coma patients there are. Come on, I gotta get home.” She stood and slung on her book bag.

“But what about studying?”

“I’m good. I haven’t gotten one wrong, have I?”

Mary looked at the stack of cards that they hadn’t gotten to yet. “Rach, you’re procrastinating.”

“No, you’re avoiding your duty.”

“What?”

“You have to help Vicky, but because she’s like spite incarnate and dating Cy, you don’t want to help her so you’re dragging your feet when you should be marching around this library asking for Mr. Fletcher.”

Mary narrowed her eyes. “What’s found in both prokaryotic and eukaryotic cells?”

Rachel screwed up her mouth.

She flipped to the next card. “When hydrogen ions are pumped out of the mitochondrial matrix, across the inner mitochondrial membrane, and into the space between the inner and outer membranes, the result is?”

Rachel crossed her arms and stared her down.

“Are you not answering because you won’t or because you don’t know the answers?”

Rachel lifted her chin.

She flipped to another card. “What possesses a microtubular structure similar in form to a basal body?”

She watched Rachel closely. She still stood defiant, but there was uncertainty around her eyes. Mary lowered the flash cards. “Maybe the reason I’m not gung-ho on helping Vicky is because I don’t know the answers either.”

“I know the answers,” she muttered.

“Prove it.”

Rachel turned her nose away, but she did sit back down.

“What possesses a microtubular structure similar in form to a basal body?” Mary repeated.

Rachel rocked a little in her seat.

“It starts with a ‘C’.”

Rachel rocked more.

“I can’t give you anymore hints because frankly I have no idea what this question is talking about.”

She waited for her to reply, but she was in one of her monumental stubborn moods. Mary sighed and pushed the cards toward her. “Look, what I need to know will not be in any book or newspaper. I have to go to the hospital and walk around if I’m going to get any idea of what is hurting Vicky, but the hospital isn’t going to just let us snoop around. We need to enter the volunteer program, and the only way you’re going to get into the program is if you ace this test so let’s get studying. All right?”

Rachel worked her jaw a bit but finally said, “Centrioles.”

She glanced at the note card. Rachel was right.

Rachel looked over to her with a small grin. “You know, we’re going through an awful lot of trouble for Vicky.”

“Don’t remind me. Focus on all of the other nameless patients that we might be helping.”

“Yeah, it’s too bad none of them contacted you in your dreams for help. Does this mean she has like psychic ability?”

Mary shuddered as she recalled her first dream. “I hope not. A psychic Vicky would be terrible. Now no more Vicky talk. What is the function of water in photosynthesis?”

Continue to Chapter 4

Chapter 2

2009-01-09T00:01:00.008-05:00

Family Gatherings
The next day at school was boring. Cy was absent, and everyone assumed he was still with Vicky. Mary saw Kyle in the hall once, and he looked like he wanted to talk. She ducked into the girl’s bathroom to avoid him and waited until the bell rang to emerge. It was cowardly, and Kyle probably thought she was a complete nut case, but she didn’t want another Cy update. At least not from him. She’d wait and get it directly from Cy.

She knew she needed to get to work helping Vicky, but it was going to be tricky. If she told Rachel that she wanted to visit Vicky, she would insist Mary was sick and in need of medical attention herself. Then she’d have to explain the dreams, and she had no idea how to explain them. She still wasn’t sure if they were real. She’d never had dreams like that before. Trying to think up another reason to go to the hospital was tough. She finally settled on lying and claiming to be interested in volunteering, and why not visit Rachel’s mom to find out more. Rachel drove her to the hospital after school, but she was still skeptical.

“I thought hospitals gave you the creeps.”

“Yeah, but I should learn to conquer my fears.”

“You call them Hotels of Death.”

“Are we going to see your mom or not?”

Rachel led the way through the lobby. Mary’s eyes darted around. Hospitals did creep her out. So many people dying in one place meant hauntings were prevalent and plentiful.

Mary followed Rachel onto the elevator.

“What floor please?”

“Rach, what floor?”

“I pushed three. Why?”

Mary jumped and scowled. She and Rachel were alone in the elevator. She’d seen it was empty when she’d gotten on, but she’d still reacted to the ghost like he was there. She hated when that happened.

The doors opened, and Rachel led the way to the nurse’s station. A middle aged woman in pink scrubs looked up at them, and her round face broke into a happy smile. Rachel walked around the desk and gave her mother a hug.

“What a pleasant surprise! What are you two girls doing here?”

Mary wandered behind the nurse’s station and got pulled into a hug too. She felt even guiltier telling her lie with her arms around Mrs. Pillar. “I was thinking about volunteering here, but didn’t know what I should do. Do you know anything about that?”

Mrs. Pillar squeezed her tighter before letting her go. “That’s a wonderful idea! There’s all sorts of programs like the candy striper program, the baby massage program, and the childern’s program. You have to get an application from the volunteer office. It’s on the fifth floor. Just follow the signs when you get off the elevator.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Pillar.”

“Oh, and if you want to stop by and see Vicky Neilson, she’s on the second floor in room 204. I’m sure her parents would like to see kids from school.”

“Mom, we aren’t exactly friends with Vicky.”

“Well, are you going to fill out an application too?”

Rachel’s eyes shot to Mary. This was an unexpected development. “I’ll pick up an application and think about it,” she said.

“It’ll look good on your college applications,” Mrs. Pillar suggested.

Rachel huffed a sigh. “Thanks Mom. We gotta go. See you at home.”

“Tell your father that I’m bringing dinner home at 7pm. So no snacking. I’ll know. Tell him that.”

Rachel began backing away, tugging Mary along with her. “Sure, Mom.”

“And it’d be nice if you could do a load of darks for me. I’ll fold them later tonight.”

Rachel stabbed the elevator call button. “Sure, Mom.”

“It was nice to see you girls. I hope your grandmother’s well, Mary.” Rachel dragged Mary into the elevator and pressed five.

“Very well, Mrs. Pillar. Thanks for the info.” The elevator doors began to close.

“My pleasure, and Rachel could you pickup—”

“Sorry Mom, what?” Rachel said as she jammed the door close button.

When the doors shut, Rachel slumped against the elevator wall. “I didn’t think we’d ever get out of there.”

Mary smirked. “Your mom’s really nice.”

Rachel glared at her. “Sure, you can say that. She doesn’t give you chores.”

The elevator doors opened, and the girls exited. They followed the signs to the volunteer program office. They each picked up an application. Rachel held hers like it was infected. Mary folded hers and put it in her pocket. She didn’t even bother to read it. The volunteer coordinator had been very bubbly and eager to get the girls signed up, but Mary told her that she wasn’t sure what she wanted to do and would have to talk it over with her grandmother. They got out of the office relatively unscathed.

When they got back into the elevator, Rachel pressed G. “What floor, please?”

“Two,” Mary whispered.

The number 2 button lit up.

The elevator went down. “So what do you think you want to do?” Rachel asked as she peered at the application. It would’ve been easier to read if she didn’t hold it at arm’s length.

“I don’t know,” Mary said. The elevator doors opened, and she strode off. Rachel followed and stopped.

“Wait, this isn’t the lobby.” She turned to get back on the elevator, but the doors had closed.

“Isn’t this Vicky’s floor?” Mary said, knowing full well that it was. She started down the corridor.

“Mary, are you serious? We should go.”

“Since we’re here, we might as well peek in.”

Rachel snagged Mary’s arm and turned her around. “Seriously? Don’t you think that’s kind of, I don’t know, morbid?”

Mary brushed off Rachel’s hand. “We don’t have to go in. I just want to get a glimpse.”

Rachel’s mouth thinned. Mary began down the corridor again. She glanced into the patient rooms as she passed. It was pretty deserted. There were a couple of bored nurses at the nurse’s station. The girls nodded as they walked past. The nurses barely gave them a glance. Mary saw 204 ahead. She lengthened her stride.

The door was open. Mary cautiously looked in and saw the room was empty except for Vicky. She looked just like her dream except her eyes were closed, and she was lying down.

She stepped into the room. “Mary?” Rachel said. She didn’t sound happy.

Mary went to Vicky’s side. She needed to know if her dreams were real. Was Vicky really in danger? What was threatening her? She reached out and touched Vicky’s hand gently. It was warm, but so still. The machines beeped softly, and the IVs dripped. This whole scene didn’t seem like Vicky at all. Where was the loudmouth, brash girl who could make Mary’s life miserable? Rachel had crept up beside her, and looked down at the comatose girl.

“We shouldn’t be here,” she whispered.

“I’m just trying to figure something out,” Mary whispered back.

“Hello?”

Mary jerked her hand off Vicky and turned around. She’d felt guilty lying to Mrs. Pillar, now she felt like the lowest criminal looking at the woman in the doorway. The woman had on a light blue velour zip up hoody with matching pants. Her hair was up in a bun, but it had started to come undone a bit. There were dark circles underneath her eyes, and no makeup had been used to try and conceal it. The auburn color of her hair sealed the deal. She was Vicky’s mother.

“Hi, sorry. We didn’t mean to disturb. We just wanted to see how Vicky was doing.”

Rachel turned shocked eyes to Mary.

Mrs. Neilson went over to a chair by the bed. She sank down and picked up one of Vicky’s lax hands. “No, it’s nice you stopped by. All friends of Vicky’s are welcome. It’s good for her to be surrounded by people who care about her. The doctors say she can hear us, so she knows you’re here, and it’ll help her get better.”

Mary nodded. “But she’s doing okay?”

Mrs. Neilson looked at her daughter. There was a bittersweet hope in her eyes. “She’s only sleeping. She’ll wake up.”

Mary nodded again. “Yeah, nothing can keep Vicky down.”

Mrs. Neilson smiled. “You’re absolutely right. My girl’s strong.”

Rachel shuffled in place. “Do you need us to get you anything?”

Mrs. Neilson turned her whispy smile to Rachel. “No, thank you, I just ate dinner downstairs in the cafeteria with Vicky’s father. He’s gone home to shower and change. He’ll be back in a few hours. I’ll be fine until then. Do you girls have any classes with Vicky?”

Mary nodded. “I have sixth period English with her. I’ve known Vicky since grade school.”

“You have?”

Mary nodded. Rachel grabbed Mary’s hand and began backing toward the doorway. “We don’t want to intrude anymore. We should go. It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Neilson. Vicky’s a fighter. She’ll pull through this.”

“It was so nice of you girls to come visit. I’m sure Vicky appreciates it too.”

Mary balked at Rachel’s tugging. “You said she can hear us, right?”

Mrs. Neilson nodded. Mary freed her hand from Rachel’s and stepped back to Vicky’s side. She bent over and put her mouth to the girl’s ear. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it. Just get better for your mom.” She straightened. When she looked at Mrs. Neilson, she saw tears creeping down her face. She’d heard what Mary had said.

“It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Neilson. Vicky’s very lucky to have you.” She turned and left. Rachel backed out of the room with a nervous smile. Mary walked back to the elevators. She pressed the call button. Rachel came up beside her. She grabbed her arm and turned her to face her.

“What was that all about?”

“Vicky’s in trouble.”

“What?”

Two chairs sat against the wall. Mary slumped down into one. Rachel took the other. “I’ve been having these dreams. They’re of Vicky. She’s in her hospital bed, and she says something’s attacking her. Hurting her, but she doesn’t know what it is. She’s so insistent that I had to come here and see for myself.”

“You’re having weird dream convos with Vicky?”

“Yeah, two so far. I’ve never had dreams like this before.”

“And? Are the dreams real?”

Mary scrubbed her face. “They feel real. The room is the same, but I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I don’t know what’s hurting her. She said it was going after others, but I don’t know who, and I don’t know what this thing is.”

“Could it be a ghost?”

“I don’t know. Vicky says it’s clawing at her, but not physically. I’ve never heard of anything like it, and Vicky’s afraid it’s going to kill her.”

“What could it be?”

Mary shook her head. She had no clue.

“Well, if it’s going after others, then maybe we could go visit them, and you might be able to find something out.”

“Just ask random patients if they’re being clawed by a supernatural force? I think we’d be kicked out.”

Rachel brought up the volunteer application. “Then maybe we should fill these out.”

“You know, I wasn’t serious about volunteering. It was just an excuse to come to the hospital.”

“And volunteering can be our excuse for visiting other patients, and we could maybe ask them a few questions. One of these programs has to make it possible.” Rachel began reading over the application.

Mary shook her head. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Do you want Vicky to keep bugging you in your dreams?”

“No.” Mary didn’t add that Vicky might not continue bugging her if this thing kept clawing at her.

“Geez, we need recommendations?”

Mary turned to her. She had the application up to her nose. “What?”

“We need two recommendations to be approved to volunteer, and an orientation before we can begin.”

“Wow, I really don’t know if I can do this. Who’ll write me a recommendation?”

“Well, my mom will, and maybe Mr. Landa? I bet he’d be pleased if you asked him. Who am I gonna ask?”

“Gran will, and maybe a teacher? Have you not pissed off one of them?”

“I’ve been good in my craft class.”

“You don’t have to do this, Rach.”

“What and hear about how good you are to volunteer at the hospital, and I should be more like you? No way. I’m doing this. Plus, I’m gonna help you find whatever this thing is, even if it goes against every fiber of my being to help the Hickey. I’m just gonna focus on those other patients.”

* * *
Mary let herself into her home and flopped onto the sofa. She could not believe she was actually going to volunteer. This seemed like such a lot of work to accomplish something she didn’t know how she was going to do anyway.

Gran peeked out at her from the kitchen. “Welcome home, dear.”

“Thanks,” she said dully.

“How does hamburgers and French fries sound?”

“Sounds great.”

“How was school?”

“Okay, I went by the hospital.”

Gran leaned out the kitchen to better talk to her. “You did? Did you visit the Neilson girl?”

“Yeah, I met her mom. She seemed nice. I felt bad for her.”

“Of course, dear.”

Mary pulled out the volunteer application and took it into the kitchen. “I also visited Rachel’s mom.”

Gran smiled as she put a frying pan on the stove. “How is Mrs. Pillar?”

“Good, she asked about you, but the reason I went to the hospital was because I’m thinking about volunteering there.”

Gran stilled and turned to her. “Really? Are you sure that’s wise? Hospitals can be very trying places for ones like us, especially you with your heightened ability.”

She looked down at the application, still surprised that she’d filled it out. “I think it’ll be good for me, and I think I can do some good. Will you sign the permission form?”

Gran drew back while she thought it over. “If it’s something you want to do, I will. I just don’t want you doing something that upsets you too much. Even for non-sensitives, hospitals can be very dire places.”

Mary clenched her body to keep from fidgeting. “I know, but I want to try. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll quit, but I feel like I have to do this.”

Gran gave her an odd look but shrugged it off. “All right. I’ll sign. It’s a good thing.”

She let out a silent sigh. “Thanks, Gran.”

“Did Vicky’s accident prompt this idea?”

“Yeah, sort of. How was your day?” she asked hoping to steer away from all things Vicky.

“All right. Another ghost hunting group called hoping I’d work with them. Had to let them down easy.”

“Don’t know why you don’t give it a try. You could be the next big thing in paranormal entertainment.”

Gran shook her head. “No, I’m quite happy now. Anyway, I don’t understand why they insist on only working in the dark. It’s silly. You’re going to get hurt and not by a ghost. And I don’t understand all their thingamabobs: EMF detectors, IR thermometers, and EVPs. It’s all just alphabet soup to me.”

“Yeah, I’m saving my money for a proton pack.”

Continue to Chapter 3.