If I take some, Steven thought, how do I know you won’t attack me, too?
I’m a ghost eater, the creature thought. Your body stinks. If I were to eat you, I’d be retching for weeks. No chance.
Why didn’t you just come into the room and eat him? Steven thought. Why’d you wrap me up in your attack?
There’s a barrier here at the door, the creature thought. Placed here just before his wife killed the child. I’ve been checking on him for years, the poor bastard, hoping the barrier would dissolve, but it’s very strong. Stumbling across you two changed everything. I’m very grateful. Please, take your matter. You earned it.
Guilt for participating in the trap racked Steven. The idea of taking the young man’s matter this way seemed repellent.
The creature lunged again, its fangs rising out of the shoulders of the young man and landing squarely in his mid-back.
You’d better hurry, the creature thought. The rest goes down rather quickly, and if you’re not going to take it, I’m going to.
The young man had stopped fighting the creature and was lying still on the floor. Steven knelt by the young man’s feet and removed the matter knife from his pocket. When he placed his hand on the young man’s leg it passed through it, unable to make contact. But when he placed the bottom edge of the matter knife on it, it rested on top of the leg. He pressed and pulled the knife towards him, the bottom blade of the device digging into the young man and scraping off part of him, like a wood plane. Steven raised the knife and saw a small amount of ghost matter inside the tube.
I understand why the ghosts were pissed about this, Steven thought. This is loathsome.
He placed the knife back at the man’s legs and repeated the procedure, pressing and scraping several times. With each scrape he felt worse. He imagined his own flesh being scraped off in this manner, and it gave him a case of the willies, his body shaking in response. He checked the tube again and saw that it was nearly full. He went down for a couple more scrapes so he could fill it completely. As he finished the last one, the creature lunged again and its mouth took in more of the body, the fangs landing at the young man’s knees. Startled, Steven fell backward and quickly exited the flow.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said to Claire, who nodded and followed him as he walked through the empty entryway towards the basement’s stairs.
Chapter Eleven
His guilt over how he’d collected the ghost matter far outweighed the concern he had for the ghost in his bedroom, and Steven found it difficult to sleep. Part of him wanted to leave right away and drive all night back to Seattle, but he knew if he tried such a stunt, he’d probably drive into a ditch on the side of the road. He was exhausted and there was no way he could drive eight hours. Eventually the exhaustion overcame him and he fell asleep. The wake up alarm came way too early and he slept through it. When he woke again he found himself late for breakfast. He hurriedly threw on some clothes and headed down to the dining room.
The others were already well into their meal. The table he’d dined at on his previous visits had been reserved for him, Claire, Pete, and Sarah, and it was a good thing, as the rest of the tables in the room were filled.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said, pulling out his chair and sitting at the table. “This is a nice change from the last time I was here,” he said, motioning to the other tables.
“Thanks to you,” Sarah said, passing him a pot of coffee.
“Claire tells us you were successful last night,” Pete said. “Down in the basement.”
“Yes,” Steven said, looking at Claire, who met his gaze but looked away. “I suppose we were. We got the matter, at least.”
“Sounds complicated,” Sarah said, picking up on the vibe between Claire and Steven.
“Let’s put it this way,” Claire said, “I hope to never do something like that again.”
“It was for a good cause,” Steven said. “It will save a man’s life. But I have to agree with Claire, I don’t want to ever do that again.”
“What happened?” Pete asked excitedly, anxious for another good story.
Steven turned to look at Claire, wondering if he should tell them. Claire imperceptibly shook her head no.
“Trust me, Pete,” Steven said, “you don’t want to know. It’s something even The Ghosts of Mason Manor would find too distasteful to publish.”
“Oh,” Pete said, a little crestfallen. “Well, I’ll defer to your judgment.”
“Are you heading straight back to Seattle after this?” Sarah asked.
“Yes,” Steven said. “I’ve got to get back and see if we can resuscitate Daniel. There’s a lot more to do, but we’ve got to try.”
“I hope you can,” Claire said. “I always liked Daniel. He’s a good person.”
Steven thought Claire had emphasized the ‘good’ in such a way to suggest that he, Steven, was not a good person. She probably thinks I’m awful for what I did down there, he thought. Or maybe I’m just letting my guilt get to me and she didn’t mean that at all.
“Thanks for your help, Claire,” Steven said. Steven emphasized the ‘your’ a little to make sure she remembered she had been involved in the previous night’s events.
“You’re welcome,” Claire said, glancing up. “I hope it all works out the way you want it to.”
Seems neutral enough, Steven thought. Drop trying to analyze her and move on.
After eating a few more forkfuls of omelet – Steven felt Sarah made a killer omelet – he set down his utensils and thanked the group.
“I have to run,” he said as he stood, swallowing a last mouthful of coffee.
“Here,” Sarah said, handing him a paper cup with a plastic lid. “Some for the road. Come back anytime. And give our best to Roy. And Eliza.”
“Will do, thanks,” Steven said, giving everyone a quick wave and heading back up to his room. He quickly packed and opened the door to leave. There was Pete, standing in the hallway, waiting. He extended his hand towards Steven’s suitcase.
“Really?” Steven said.
“I told you you’d never carry your bags in this establishment,” Pete said smiling, “and I meant it.”
-
Eight hours later Steven pulled his car into his driveway and toted his suitcase into his house. Eliza and Roy were inside, pouring over the book.
“Hello,” he said to them. Neither turned to look.
“Oh, hi,” Eliza said, continuing to stare down at the pages.
“How’d it go?” Roy asked, scanning the page with Eliza.
“Looks like you’ve decided to share the book with her,” Steven said to Roy. “Did she offer you money?”
“Kind of,” Roy said. “We’re trying to understand these other two objects Daniel received from Sam. So far we’ve not uncovered much, but you know this book, there’s always something to distract your attention. She’s got me explaining petrahids.”
“What are petrahids?” Steven asked.
“Never mind that now,” Eliza said, “how’d it go with Claire at the manor?”
“Success,” Steven said, brandishing the matter knife. He handed it to Roy.
“Good, it’s full,” Roy said.
“It was one of the worst experiences of my life,” Steven said. “I can see why it’s contraband and I can see why Jurgen was selling it to people; I expect people will pay to buy some rather than have to collect it in person. It was unpleasant in the extreme.”
“Well, I’m glad you at least had success,” Roy said. “Sam is a no-go. He only wants to get younger.”
“That’s OK,” Steven said, “I may have a solution.”
“What?” Roy asked.
“Garth,” Steven replied. “He called me for a status update while I was driving back. I explained to him what’s going on and he thinks he can help. He wants to meet with us as soon as we can get down to Olympia. I told him we’d try to make it down tonight.”
Steven looked at Eliza.
“Go,” s
he said. “I’ll stay here with Daniel. He’s doing OK. And I can finish up the recipes.”
“All right,” Steven said. “Do you mind driving, Dad? I’m tired.”
“Well it’s not an American car,” Roy said, “but I suppose I can drive it since this is urgent.”
Steven knew Roy was poking at him, but he resisted the urge to take Roy’s bait and get into an argument about foreign cars. He just didn’t have the energy, and he wanted to save what he had for the meeting with Garth.
“We’ll be back,” Steven said to Eliza, “in four or five hours, depending on traffic. Let’s go, dad.”
“Just a second,” Roy said, walking into another room. He returned carrying a large box by a handle. The box was covered with a cloth.
“What’s that?” Steven asked.
Roy raised the cloth and Steven saw that the box was actually a cage. Inside the cage was a rat.
“Where’d you get it?” Steven asked.
“Petco,” Roy said. “The cage too. Cheap.”
“Why? Why do you have a rat?” Steven said.
“If Garth can help us, we may need it,” Roy said. “I bought it on my way up to meet with Sam.”
“Why would we need a rat?”
“If Sam had agreed to the fusing, we’d have needed a way to physically bring him here, to Daniel.”
“You’re telling me Sam would have gone into the rat?” Steven said.
“It’s called possession,” Roy said. “And yes, that’s exactly what would have happened. If Garth has found a soul willing to fuse with Daniel, we’ll need this rat to bring it back.”
“You’ve done this before?” Steven asked.
“Possession?” Roy said. “No, never. Just read about it.”
“Great,” Steven said, a little sarcastically. “Just make sure that rat doesn’t get out of that cage.”
-
Steven told Roy all about his adventure in the basement of Mason Manor with Claire as they drove to Olympia.
“Claire sounds a little too goody two shoes for my tastes,” Roy said.
“No,” Steven said, shaking his head. “No, she’s not, I’m making it sound worse than it was.”
“She seemed a little smug when we met her in Oregon before,” Roy said. “And that Volkswagen. I’ll bet she’s one of those peace and love people. They always think they’re better than everyone else.”
“No, you’ve taken this the wrong way. It wasn’t like that.”
“Quit defending her.”
Steven knew he wouldn’t win this argument either. Roy was always crass and abrasive. It was a miracle Eliza had tolerated him being stuck with him overnight. Then again, Eliza seemed to get along with everybody, and he knew Roy liked her. Maybe he went easy on her.
“Gotta hand it to you, collecting that matter with the knife sounds rough,” Roy said. “I’m proud of you for seeing it through.”
“I’m not proud of myself,” Steven said. “I felt horrible. I tricked the guy, then I took it from him while he was being eaten.”
“I’ll bet hippie Claire standing there giving you shit for it didn’t help,” Roy said.
“She didn’t give me shit for it,” Steven said. “She didn’t have to. It was awful regardless.”
“Everything in this world either eats or gets eaten,” Roy said. “Sounds to me like the creature was right. That boy can finally have some peace instead of slitting his throat all night long. So it’s not as bad as all that.”
“You didn’t have to drag that blade along his legs,” Steven said. “It felt wrong in every way. Like I was stealing something from him by slicing it off him. Imagine if I came up to you and cut off part of you.”
“The way you told it,” Roy said, “he was a minute away from being swallowed whole. So what’s the difference?”
Steven thought about this. He kept thinking of ghosts as people, but they weren’t, not really. The rules that applied to humans didn’t apply to ghosts. And the only reason humans weren’t devoured by other creatures was because they’d reached the top of the food chain. Apparently ghosts hadn’t. Maybe that’s just the way it is, he thought.
“Pete and Sarah doing OK?” Roy asked, changing the subject.
“Yes,” Steven said, “they passed along their best wishes to you. The hotel was full. It was strange to see the dining hall full of people for breakfast.”
“Yes, that would seem odd,” Roy said. “I got so used to it being empty.”
They chatted more about the manor; it made the drive to Olympia go quickly. Soon they were pulling up at Tall Pines.
They got out of the car and walked to the main building. It was night, and there were lights illuminating the landscape. It looked nice.
“You ever put me in one of these things,” Roy said, “I’ll disinherit you.”
“It’s actually quite nice inside,” Steven said. “I was surprised.”
“Yes, that’s how it starts,” Roy said. “Mark my word: dis-in-her-it,” he said, emphasizing each syllable.
“As long as you’re well behaved,” Steven said, “I can’t see any reason to lock you up in one of these. But step out of line…”
“Bah,” Roy said. “You’d be back every day wanting help with this, that, or the other,” he said, opening the front doors and stepping inside.
Steven could see the change in Roy’s face as he saw the plushness of the lobby. Roy was surprised, but he wasn’t going to let Steven know. He wiped a scowl back over his face.
“What a dump,” Roy said, glancing around.
They made their way to the receptionist, telling her they were here to visit Garth. The receptionist called up to Garth’s apartment and spoke with him briefly.
“Mr. Wilmon is on the third floor,” the receptionist said. “Take the elevators behind me to the third floor, and turn right when you exit. He’s in number thirty-seven. Please use the bell to ring the door, don’t knock.”
“Why can’t we knock?” Roy asked indignantly.
“Because many of our guests are hard of hearing, while others are not. We’ve fine-tuned the bell for each guest to be loud enough within their apartment so they can hear it, but not so loud that it will disturb other neighbors, which loud knocking might do.”
“Well, that’s very well planned out,” Steven said. “Sounds like you’ve really tailored things here for the needs of older people, to make it comfortable for them.”
“That’s enough,” Roy said, pulling Steven away from the reception desk. “Come on.”
They walked to the elevator and took it to Garth’s floor. When they found his apartment, the door was ajar. Steven opened it and walked in.
“Garth?”
“Come in,” Garth said from inside. Steven and Roy walked down a short hallway and into a large living room that was immaculately decorated. Floor to ceiling windows overlooked the bay. The furniture looked expensive and the artwork on the walls made Steven feel he needed to be careful what he touched. Garth was behind a bar on the other side of the room.
“Come in, sit down!” Garth said, waving to the sofas in the middle of the room. “I was just making myself a drink. What can I make for you?”
“Gin and tonic,” Roy said without hesitation. He walked over to a nearby leather chair and sat.
“You must be Roy,” Garth said. “Steven told me about you.”
“Good things I hope,” Roy said.
“The best,” Garth replied. “And Steven, what can I make you?”
Steven really didn’t feel like drinking, but he didn’t want to seem impolite, and since he hoped Garth was going to offer them some help, he felt he’d better stay on Garth’s better side.
“A vodka and water, on the rocks,” he said.
“Coming right up,” Garth said, his hands busy behind the counter of the bar. They heard the clink of ice as Garth mixed.
“This is impressive,” Steven said. “Very nice place, Garth.”
“Thank you,” he said. “You can
tell I was lying to you earlier when I told you I didn’t have money.”
“Apparently,” Steven said. Garth came around the bar with a glass in each hand, giving one to Steven and the other to Roy, who thanked him. He returned to the bar to retrieve his own, then approached them for a toast.
“Here’s to what I hope will be a successful plan,” he said, raising his glass. Steven and Roy joined him and they all drank.
“You said you thought you might have a solution?” Steven said.
“Yes,” Garth said. “Sean.”
“Sean?” Steven said. “Your brother?”
“Yes,” Garth said. “He died many years ago, when he was forty. About Daniel’s age.”
“He’d have to be a ghost,” Roy said, “or it will be extremely hard to rouse him.”
“Oh, he’s a ghost,” Garth said. “I talk with him all the time.”
Steven looked at Roy. He didn’t know if Garth really did talk with Sean, or if some dementia was showing. Garth had seemed lucent and coherent when they had talked with him days ago. Old age plays funny tricks on people.
“How do you talk to him?” Roy asked.
“I close my eyes,” Garth said, “and I think about him. Eventually he comes, and we talk. He’s always been very protective of me. That seems to have carried over after his death.”
“How often do you talk to him?” Steven asked.
“We used to speak two or three time a week, before he passed,” Garth said. “That didn’t stop after he died. We kept talking.”
“When was the last time you talked?” Roy asked.
“Last night,” Garth said. “I told him all about your visit, Steven. He was very concerned. He felt very badly that Frank was escaping the cage. I haven’t yet told him the latest.”
“You think Sean will be interested in helping Daniel?” Steven asked.
“I think so,” Garth said. “I think he’d jump at the chance to be able to physically move again. He’s mentioned it many times. I think his desire for that is one of the reasons he hasn’t moved on. And me, of course.”
“Yes,” said Steven. “Do you think he realizes he’d be sharing a body with someone else?”
3 Ghosts of Our Fathers Page 12
