by Joy Elbel
“Dad, I’m sorry! Please let me explain everything!” “There isn’t anything left to explain—Shelly already told me everything. You can see ghosts. Big deal. The only one left with some explaining to do is Lascher the Basher.”
What?! “You aren’t mad at me—for all the lies I told?” “No. I’m mad that Principal Lascher isn’t doing anything about you being bullied by that Landrum girl. But why should I expect a bully to take care of another bully? He hasn’t changed since his days of pushing me around in high school but I have. If he doesn’t take care of this situation once and for all, I’ll have his job. I just wish that I hadn’t let Shelly talk me out of it months ago when that video of you went viral.”
WTF? There were so many shocking elements to this conversation that my brain didn’t even know where to start trying to comprehend it. My dad wasn’t mad at me? Principal Lascher bullied him in high school? My dad knew the meaning of the word “viral” when used outside of the medical context? Clearly, I wasn’t the only one hiding secrets in this family. Figuring that if my dad wasn’t mad at me, I shouldn’t push it, I decided instead to focus on the shocking revelation that he was bullied in high school.
“Lascher the Basher?” I queried. “Are you trying to tell me that you—Mr. Personality himself—was bullied in school, too? Prove it.” Even with all of the weird things I’d come to accept in my life, I found that one hard to believe.
“Yes, I was bullied. Andy, too. Basher was a couple years older than us and made our lives a living hell our sophomore year. And as for proof, take one look at my year book and you won’t doubt it one bit. Andy and I were total dorks back then.”
Really? Andy was one of the coolest adults I knew and my dad was, well, he was my dad. But everyone else seemed to think he was awesome.
“Okay, where is it? I wanna see you and Andy as dorks.”
“Now? Can’t this wait until after I’ve ripped Lascher the Basher a new you know what?”
No. No, it couldn’t. “I’m not leaving this house until I see proof.” “Fine,” he said with a sigh. “Just be quick about it, will you? I need to get back to the hospital before three for a board meeting. My yearbooks are on the bookshelf in my Man Cave. Sophomore year, remember? We got a hell of a lot cooler after he graduated.”
Running shoes came in handy as I raced to uncover my dad’s hidden days of dorkdom. Quickly, I grabbed the correct yearbook off the shelf and leafed through its pages alphabetically.
I found Principal Lascher first and wasn’t surprised with what I found—typical meathead jock. When I got to Andy’s photo, I lol’ed for real. The super cool veterinarian I had come to know and love looked like nothing more than a stray puppy himself. He was so tiny! And dorky. He had braces and was sporting the worst hairstyle ever—a rattail. After seeing that photo, I couldn’t wait to see what my dad’s looked like. With sheer delight, I flipped to the M’s page. There he was in all his geeky glory.
If there was an official hierarchy of nerdiness, my dad was definitely near the pinnacle. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Or his hair. Permed mullet. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he was wearing thick glasses and a shirt buttoned up the whole way to the top making him look like he had no neck. The only thing missing was a pocket protector. I squinted closely at the photo to make sure that it was missing. Whew, no pocket protector. But he definitely still looked like the kind of boy who slept with his calculator under his pillow. How was it possible that Mr. Personality once looked this…dorky? If The Cougar had only seen this photo, our first day in Charlotte’s Grove would have been way less creepy—I think. I returned to the foyer, satisfied that he really was telling me the truth.
“Satisfied?” my dad asked with an “I told you so” look on his face.
“Oh yeah, I’m more than satisfied. Now let’s go take care of those bullies!” On the drive to the school, Dad filled me in on the many ways Lascher the Basher dished out torture to him and Andy. Suddenly, there was a bond between he and I that I never knew existed. I decided to share some of the ways that Lee and I got picked on back in Trinity. While none of that even compared to what Misty and Lucas had done to me, they still weren’t happy memories.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this years ago?” Dad looked as shocked as I did when I heard that he had once been not so popular.
“Because I didn’t think that you would understand. I guess I was wrong, huh? And before you even ask, I’ll just come right out and tell you why I didn’t tell you about the whole ghost thing. I figured that you would just think I was crazy. For real, if it weren’t for the fact that I knew that I wasn’t crazy, I would have thought I was, too.” As I listened to the words coming from my mouth, I realized that statement alone would probably convince anyone that I truly had fallen off of my rocker.
“Well, you were wrong again on that one. I know you’re not crazy. You’re just so much like your mother.” “Mom could see ghosts, too?” I practically shouted. “Why didn’t you ever tell me that before?” Did Rita know that ghost hunting was genetic or did I just discover something else that the paranormal research community would be fascinated to hear?
“No, that isn’t what I meant, Ruby. Your mother couldn’t see ghosts—that I know of anyway. But she was very spiritually in tune with the world. She was just as creative as you are. She was a mysteriously fascinating woman. I wish you could remember her.”
“Yeah, me too. We should talk about her more often.”
“Yes, we should,” he replied wistfully. Not another word passed between us until we entered the principal’s office. While I assumed that my dad wanted me to come along on this mission so that I could tell my side of the story, I was wrong again. No, he pretty much wanted me to sit there and watch him rip Principal Lascher a new you know what. Once Dad calmed down, Lascher pulled him aside for what felt like a private conversation that I wasn’t intended to hear. I heard every word that was spoken.
“Jason, my hands are tied here. Ruby only needs to survive a couple more months in this school. I’ll try to watch her back for her but that’s all I can do. I would love nothing more than to give that Landrum girl the punishment she deserves but I can’t. Jack Wolfe owns this town, owns this school, owns me.”
“So that’s what this is about? You’re afraid of the Big Bad Wolfe? Well, I’m not.” “You should be. He’s more powerful than you know. I’m sorry about everything that happened back in high school— I was a complete jerk and I realize that now. If I could help you out here, I would. But I have a family to support—I can’t risk losing my job. Please try to see this from my perspective!”
“Look, Rob, I’m not asking you to expel her from school or anything. A simple three day suspension will suffice. It won’t tarnish her reputation any more than she has already done for herself.”
“I can’t! You just don’t understand! I won’t go up against him again. Trust me, I tried a few months ago when Zach Mason went ballistic on Ryan Fetterhoff. Jack threatened my job if I didn’t put Zach up for expulsion. I didn’t want to do it—especially after everything that family has already been through. It didn’t even make any sense because in the end, he was the one who voted for Zach to stay in school. But I’ve learned over the years not to question anything that man says. That’s a lesson that I hope you don’t have to learn the hard way.”
“Sorry, but I refuse to let this drop. My lawyer will get in touch with you. Come on, Ruby, we’re going home now.” Principal Lascher looked panic stricken but said nothing more. The second we got in the car, I asked my dad the one burning question in my mind.
“What did he mean when he said that he didn’t want to expel Zach especially after everything his family has been through?” Did the Masons have some grand tragedy in their past that I was unaware of?
Dad shook his head and looked as confused as I felt. “I’m not sure. The only thing I can think of is what happened to Garrett back in high school.”
“Yeah, exactly what did happen to him? Zach has t
alked about it here and there but never in detail. I’m not sure he even knows all of the details.”
“Neither do I—Garrett wasn’t even exactly sure what happened that night. It happened the summer before my junior year, the last weekend before school started. All of the cool kids were at a party up at Silver Lake—“
“So, you and Andy weren’t there that night then? Home playing Dungeons and Dragons?” I couldn’t resist. Finding out that my dad was once a nerd was akin to discovering the Holy Grail in my book. Did Shelly know about this deep dark secret? If not, she soon would!
I may have taken more after my mother, but I soon saw that my dad and I shared another common trait—the super dramatic eye roll. And boy was he good at it.
“You’re never going to let me live my geek days down, are you?” He knew very well the answer to that question and didn’t even pause long enough to give me time to come up with a witty response. “Anyway, as I was saying, the cool kids— minus me and Andy—had a party at Silver Lake that weekend. Garrett will swear even to this day that he only had one beer that night. He said that he started feeling dizzy and went outside for some air. The next thing he remembers is waking up in the woods, face down in the dirt with a searing pain in both of his knees. He heard the sound of someone running away but never got a look at his attacker. Both of his kneecaps were shattered with the baseball bat they found lying next to him.”
“They never found out who did it? There must have been tons of people at that party—somebody had to have seen something.”
“Everyone swore that they didn’t hear or see a thing. Since Garrett’s wallet was missing too, police blamed it on a drifter that had been seen in the area around that same time. They never caught that guy but they closed the case anyway. Personally, I never bought into the drifter theory. It never quite made sense to me—or to Garrett. His chance for a football scholarship was shot, of course. He was never the same after that.”
For such a small town, Charlotte’s Grove sure held a lot of mysteries—two very big ones at Silver Lake alone. Part of me was tempted to dig around in the distant past and see if I could find any information regarding what happened to Zach’s dad. Who was I kidding? I wasn’t a detective—I was a ghost hunter. No, scratch that—I used to be a ghost hunter and a very reluctant one at that. The only ghost I ever really cared to help was Clay and he was…gone. Clay was gone. Even if I couldn’t help him move on, I at least wanted to apologize to him face to face. I had to find him—I simply had to.
I spent the rest of the afternoon discussing everything with Shelly. And this time I do mean everything. I even shared with her my fantasy of pushing Misty into a shark tank. As always, Shelly had what turned out to be an even better idea.
“No good will ever come from wishing harm on your enemies. That only makes you just as bad as she is. Don’t let her drag you down. Instead, you need to find a way to let her nastiness lift you up. How about the next time you see her, you picture her as a shark? Think about it—picture it in your mind for just a minute and tell me what happens. Put that vivid imagination of yours to work for you.”
I closed my eyes and did exactly what Shelly told me to do. In my mind, I pictured Misty’s body with a shark head perched on its shoulders. A big, ugly shark face framed by blonde extensions and reeking of chum. A giant great white with breast implants and designer clothes. I didn’t have to tell Shelly what happened once that image was firmly seared into my mind—she heard it for herself.
I laughed. “I have to hand it to you,” I said between giggles, “what I imagined just now was priceless. Now it’s my turn to make you laugh.”
I pulled a Rachel and dragged Shelly into the Man Cave with me and deposited her on one of the recliners before grabbing Dad’s yearbook and joining her. My shark-inspired laughter was nothing compared to her reaction to the permed mullet. Once we had satisfactorily made enough fun of my dad, we flipped through the pages in search of anyone else we might know. When I saw Garrett’s photo, I literally gasped.
It was like looking at a time warped photo of Zach. The clothing and hairstyle were super retro, but the face—the smile—were exactly the same. I suddenly found myself wondering what my mom looked like at my age. I knew that Dad didn’t have any pictures of her prior to when they started dating and by that time, she was well into her twenties. Even those photos I hadn’t seen in years. As Shelly droned on about how much she loved looking at old photos, I sat there sadly thinking about all of the ones I would never get to see. Time flew by so quickly that I didn’t realize school was over until I got simultaneous texts from both Zach and Rachel.
Rachel apparently heard that Dad and I paid a visit to the principal and wanted to know all of the details. Zach wanted to know how I was doing. Good question. How was I doing? Life felt fine while inside the protective walls of the mansion. But I knew that the very second I stepped outside of them, I was going to feel the exact opposite. My instinct was to hide and never let myself be seen again. But I had theories on where I could find Clay and none of them included holing up inside Rosewood for the rest of eternity. I mulled it over in my head for a moment before texting them both back.
Once I found out that Rachel was free to help me execute my plan, I let Zach know that I was doing as well as could be expected but that I needed some serious girl time. He understood, of course, so Rachel agreed to pick me up at my house in half an hour. The two places where I thought I was most likely to find Clay didn’t rate very high on teenage radar so as long as she drove and I ducked down while in the car, I figured that I wouldn’t be seen.
When I saw Rachel’s car pulling up to the front of the mansion, I thought that I might be hallucinating. Would the overwhelming stress I’d experienced today cause me to see something as weird as what I thought I was seeing? Maybe I was wrong—maybe I was crazy after all. What else could explain the fact that Rachel’s car seemed to be, well, looking at me?
But as her car got closer, I saw that I wasn’t crazy after all. The headlights of her little yellow Volkswagen Beetle were now adorned with a set of eyelashes. In that moment, I wished that I was crazy. Who would do that to their car on purpose?
“OMG, Ruby! I got my acceptance letter today from Tallahassee Institute of Interior Design! Mom and Dad were so proud of me that they bought me eyelashes for my car! Dad made Zach put them on as soon as we got home. Aren’t they just the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?”
Okay, so I’d started to learn the lesson that lying was bad. Lies only seemed to come back and bite me in the rear eventually anyway, so I told her the truth. The honest to goodness watered down truth.
“Well,” I said as I attempted to think of the nicest way to tell her that I hated them as I could think of. “I would never put those on my car but if you love them, then I am happy for you.” Then, I took a small step backward and braced myself for her disappointed yet still perky rebuttal.
“Oh, they do make me happy! Whoever invented these things must be a total super genius! Not unlike myself, of course. I’m officially a college girl now—sort of.” As she spoke, she lovingly stroked the hood of her car as though it were a living, breathing pet of some sort.
“Congrats on the college thing! I knew you could do it. I just wish you would have chosen to do it somewhere closer to where Zach and I are going to be.” Sudden dreaded thought. Was anyone else from Charlotte’s Grove going to Pendleton in the fall? Was Ohio going to be far enough for me to run away from my Ghost Whisperer persona?
“I know, Ruby. Let’s not talk about that now, okay? Right now I only want to enjoy this nice spring day with you and Daisy—my two best friends.”
“Who’s Daisy? I barely even have the courage to leave the house with just you—there’s no way I’m letting you turn this outing into a threesome! Text her right now and tell her you have to cancel.” Seriously, what was Rachel thinking?
“Whoa! Turn the teen angst down a few notches, Ruby! Daisy is my car’s new name, silly! She looks like a
Daisy, don’t you think?”
“Sure,” I replied absentmindedly. “Now tell Daisy to drive us to the Heaven’s Gate Cemetery. Pleased that I was playing along with her game, Rachel politely informed Daisy of our destination before putting the car in gear. “Which ghost are we chasing now, Ruby?”
I took a minute to explain to her the bond I’d accidentally created between Clay and me and how I so callously broke it. That morning I swore I would never touch another ghost hunt for the rest of my life yet here I was. Why couldn’t I just let the whole thing rest? The whole point in sending Clay into the hereafter was so that he wouldn’t follow me around everywhere I went. In essence, I got was I was wishing for. Why wasn’t I happy with the outcome? This was seriously another case of “be careful what you wish for because you just might get it”.
When we got to the cemetery, I practically leapt out of the car and sprinted toward the center of the graveyard. It was only then that I realized I didn’t actually know which headstone was his.
“Hey, Rachel, you wouldn’t happen to know where Clay is buried, would you?” “No. I assumed you did—you’re the ghost whisp—.” Rachel managed to stop herself before completely uttering the now dreaded phrase. “Sorry, I don’t,” she replied apologetically as she busily fiddled with her phone. “But I do know one thing—my internet connection sucks here. Why can’t cemeteries have Wifi?”
“Really, Rachel? Did you hear what you just said? That makes absolutely no sense.” “But it does! Think about it—if cemeteries had Wifi, people would come visit their loved ones more often and stay longer. When I die, I want Wifi connected to my headstone. Boone is already aware of that fact in case I go first.”
