by Rik Hunik
Chapter 4
The next afternoon, as Jeff punched in for work, the lights overhead flickered twice. He fingered the brass charm hanging on a chain around his neck. After talking to his grandmother last night he was distinctly uncomfortable about working in a haunted shop. She had been waiting up for him when he got home last night, sparks flashing in her deep brown eyes as she called him to her.
"You've been talking with the spirit of a dead man. Put this on." She handed him the charm on its chain.
"But he's friendly."
"Deceptive maybe. Wear it." She scared him more than the ghost had so he wore it.
Billy smiled and waved, as he always did, but Jeff thought he saw something sinister in the peculiar intensity of his gaze. While Jeff worked he was constantly disturbed by the sensation of being watched, even when Billy was out of sight. The shop lights seemed dimmer and the open kettles loomed darkly, like hungry mouths waiting to swallow him. He tried not to think of Jonah and the fish, or of overcooked turkeys.
Jeff's paranoia was eventually forgotten as he fell into the familiar routine of bagging tires, loading and unloading the kettles. His thoughts wandered and he daydreamed about the pretty girl he had talked to in the drugstore that afternoon.
He loaded a big skidder tire, almost as tall as he was, into number one kettle, the large one. It was the last tire in this load, even though the kettle wasn't quite filled. He connected the vacuum hose but the inner and outer bags separated and he had to use both hands, his elbows and a knee to press down all the loose places before the bag began to deflate like it was supposed to.
He stepped out and inserted the safety pin in the hole in the monorail to keep the tires on their hooks from rolling out. With a practiced hand he knocked out the removable section of overhead track and set it aside so the door could close. As he started to swing it shut he noticed that the bag was loose again. Big tires were hard to build and they were worth a lot of money. What would he say to the foreman if he ruined an expensive tire because he was afraid to enter the kettle?
He needed this job. He hopped in and reached for the loose spots.
The heavy steel door swung to and clanged shut behind him, plunging him into total darkness. He whirled around and pushed at the rough metal but he was already too late. The door was latched and that, he knew, could be no accident.
He pounded on the thick metal with both hands but evoked only a dull thunk. "Let me out," he shouted, but there was no response. It was a noisy shop so any noise he made in here in the kettle would be virtually inaudible out there, and the only person out there to hear him already knew he was in here.
Jeff felt for the tire in the dark and sat down in the center. He was soaked with sweat and the air felt hot and thick in his lungs, but that was more from his exertion and panic than the air temperature. This kettle had been standing empty for a couple of hours so it wasn't nearly as hot as when he first met Ted.
As he pondered his situation he idly fingered the amulet around his neck, the one his grandmother had given him for protection. It was no surprise that it hadn't worked. He snapped the chain and threw the brass trinket to the back of the kettle. "Ghosts and magic," he muttered. "Who believes any of that crap anyway?"
"So you don't believe in ghosts, huh?"
"Ted!"
"None other. I thought I told you to be careful."
"I guess I wasn't careful enough. Can you get me out of here?"
"I'm afraid not."
Jeff slumped. The utter blackness all around began to seep into him. Despite the heat a chill ran down his spine. His breath came in painful gasps. The darkness was crushing him.
He closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe slowly and deeply. When he had calmed himself somewhat he opened his eyes. A middle aged man wearing coveralls and carrying a bit of a paunch stood in front of him. A fringe of gray hair circled three quarters of his head and a bristly moustache covered his mouth. The figure glowed slightly without casting any light.
"Ted?"
"What?" The image looked up at him.
"I thought you said that Billy killed people that reminded him of that junkie but you don't look anything at all like a kid."
"You mean you can see me?"
"Yeah."
"That's incredible. No one has actually seen me before."
"No one has ever been in my situation before." He took a deep breath to calm himself. "So why did you tell me that crazy story about the junkie?"
"Because it was true. I didn't actually say it applied to me."
Jeff thought back to their previous conversation and admitted, "You're right."
"I didn't want this to happen, but I couldn't talk to you while you were wearing that amulet. Who knows, maybe your ghost will keep me company."
"Wouldn't that be just great." The prospect was far from appealing. He looked up at Ted. "What is Billy doing now?"
"I'll check." The ghost vanished for a while and then reappeared. "He's removing the pressure and temperature charts."
Jeff felt his panic rising again. "It looks like he's going to turn on the kettle just long enough to kill me, then open it and get my body out, but he doesn't want the blip to show on the charts."
"If I stop the steam he'll notice."
"Can't you stop the steam but alter the gauges so it still looks like I'm being cooked?"
"I've never tried anything like that before, but I think I can do it. I'll have to watch him so I can time it right."
Jeff was alone in the dark again. It wasn't just the heat that made him sweat profusely while he waited, expecting any second to hear the hiss of steam entering the kettle. He started to get up but sat down again. There wasn't enough clearance for him to stand straight and no room to pace. His foot started tapping instead.
Ted returned. "It's working. Billy turned on the valve but I blocked the steam at the source and adjusted the gauges. He watched for a while, then went to the lunchroom for a cigarette, laughing to himself."
"So what do we do now?"
"Wait."
"And then what?"
"I don't know. At least you're still alive."
"For now." They were silent for several minutes. Then Jeff asked, "Why did Billy kill you?"
"For a number of reasons. We never did like each other. He worked for me once, years ago. He was usually pretty normal but every few months he became mentally unbalanced. I told him to get help but he never listened to me and I had to fire him. He's still just as bad but he conceals it a lot better. A couple of years ago I got hired on here only a few days before he did, so when a job opening came up on a builder it would have gone to me, if Billy hadn't killed me."
"Just to get rid of the competition?"
"Not just that. He'd harbored a grudge against me for years, so he didn't need much of an excuse."
"Why didn't you do something to get even?"
"At first I could only observe. I'm getting stronger now but I still can't do much. I did manage to scare him a few times but he doesn't scare so easy anymore." Ted paused. "I better go check on him."
Jeff was alone in the dark again but his fear had diminished to the point where he could shove it aside and make his mind work. Billy would have to open the door to get his body out. That would be his chance to do something, but what could he do?
Ted reappeared. "Billy came back to check the gauges and shut off the pressure. He's working on the builder now. He thinks you're cooking nicely."
"That's just great." Jeff stood up, bumped his head and sat down again. Pressing his hands to the top of his head, trying to squeeze out the pain, he said, "I just had an idea."
"Does it hurt that much every time you get an idea?"
"Please, I'm in no mood for humor. I'll need your help for this. You have to let me know exactly when Billy gets ready to unlatch the door and just as it opens I want you to shut off all the lights for a few seconds."
"And you're going to run past him in the dark?"
"Not q
uite." Jeff reached up and removed the safety pin from the monorail. "But I am going to have a surprise for him." He climbed behind the heavy tire and pushed it right up against the door and sat in it.
Ted laughed. "I'll let you know when he's at the door." He drifted out through the solid steel.
An interminable time passed. Jeff dosed off a few times but it was too hot and uncomfortable to sleep even if he had wanted to. He wished the light worked in his cheap digital watch. Just a few days ago he would have sworn he didn't believe in ghosts. Now he had befriended one, trusting him with his life (not that he had much choice) and he had almost become one himself.
Finally the hours passed and Ted returned for a few seconds to say, "Billy thinks he's depressurizing the kettle now. I'll be back to let you know when he's about to open the door."
Jeff wiped his hands on the legs of his coveralls and got ready, bracing his feet and placing a hand on each side of the tire.
"Now," Ted whispered in his ear.
With a loud sigh the door opened a crack, letting in a flood of light. Billy's fingers curled around the edge. As the door swung wide open the lights went out and Jeff pushed hard on the tire, leaning into it. It swung a bit then rolled out. The hook dropped off the end of the monorail, the bottom edge of the tire caught on the lip of the kettle and the tire toppled.
The hook clanged and rattled on the concrete floor. There was a strangled cry from Billy that was abruptly cut off.
"Billy?" Jeff called into the silence. "Ted?" The lights came on. Billy was lying on the floor with the tire across his midsection. A red line of blood ran from the corner of his mouth. He didn't seem to be breathing. "I killed him."
"No," Ted said from behind or beside him. "You didn't kill him, I did. When the tire fell on him I reached inside and stopped his heart."
"Wow, I didn't know you could do that."
"Neither did I. I probably couldn't have done it without the tire falling on him, but I did it."
Jeff stepped down out of the kettle and stretched the kinks out of his back, then looked down at Billy's body trapped under the tire, thinking he probably would have died without Ted's help. "I didn't mean for him to really die."
"He deserved to die," Ted said emphatically, then in a gentler tone, "It's over now."
"Yeah." Jeff looked around but he couldn't see Ted in the light. He was numb and he didn't know what to think. "I suppose you're free to leave now."
"I don't know. Maybe. That's how it works in ghost stories, isn't it?"
"Some of them." Jeff wiped his face on his sleeve. "I have to phone the boss and tell him there's been an accident. And tell him I quit. I can never go into another kettle again." He looked back into the dark mouth of the open kettle behind him. "Never."
"Jeff."
"What."
"Don't forget to put the charts back."
"Right. I'll handle it." He reached for the charts where Billy had stashed them. "I'll handle everything but I won't mention any ghosts. I don't want people to think I cracked."
The End
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