by C. F. Fowler
“Hey Marion! How’s it goin’?”
“Good Mark, how’s it with you?”
“Can’t complain, want your usual?”
“Yes, please, and how about a banana nut muffin?”
“Right away.”
She paid and took her coffee and muffin to a patio table. After a sip of her coffee she heard a male voice say, “Small world isn’t it?” She looked across the patio and saw Detective Baxter sitting at a table with coffee and an empty plate in front of him.
“It is a small world, or am I under surveillance too?” she responded.
He smiled, picked up his coffee cup, and approached her table. “No, no surveillance. I live a couple of blocks away. May I?” he gestured toward the empty chair at her table.
“Of course, sit,” she responded, “You can understand how I might think otherwise considering our conversation yesterday.”
He smiled, “Sure can. I can’t believe I never noticed you here before. I’m here a few mornings a week.”
“I’m not normally here this late. I’m enjoying some down time.” She was unsure how to talk with the detective – or what motives he might have to run into her. Great, she thought, now I’m getting paranoid. “And you are not keeping an eye on my client today?”
The detective said, “Have the morning off. I’ll be taking over around three today.” He took a sip of his coffee and she tried to read his face. Did he know? Was he able to intercept her text messages? “I’m glad I ran into you today. We have a friend in common.”
“Really,” she responded, “and who would that be?”
“Sandy Moore. She says she took classes with you at UCLA.”
“Yes, we did more than take classes. But I hope she didn’t tell you that! How do you know Sandy?”
The detective smiled and said, “Sandy dated my roommate at UCLA. By the look on your face I’m thinking you didn’t think cops went to college.”
“No! Not at all! Just amazed at that small world you mentioned.” Sandy knew about her gift, curse, whatever it was. Would she have mentioned that to him? “How did my name come up, detective?”
“Please, call me Gordon. It’s that small world again. She was driving by yesterday when I was getting into my car after speaking with you. I used to live on the other side of the hill.” ‘The other side of the hill’ was how locals described the divide between the San Fernando Valley and the communities on the ocean side of the Santa Monica Mountains. “She lives close by. We had coffee yesterday after I left.” Gordon paused, took a sip from his coffee and asked, “Why were you so tired yesterday?”
She was unsure how to respond. How much did he know? “I was just back in town from a week-long job in Nevada. It took a lot out of me and I was supposed to have some time off.”
“Until Mr. Jergins called you?” Gordon was eyeing her intently.
“You could say that. How much did Sandy tell you about me?” She was finding the conversation uncomfortable and wanted all cards on the table.
“Sandy is a bit talkative. Once she gets going it’s impossible to stop her.”
Marion knew the jig was up.
“She says you have an interesting job for someone who aced her classes in business school. She says your some sort of psychic.”
Marion decided to tell him as much as she could. What the heck. “Not a psychic, necessarily, I see and communicate with spirits.” She waited for the obvious reaction but was surprised when it didn’t come.
Gordon sat up and leaned forward in his chair and asked, “Does it pay well? How many people need your services?” He seemed serious about his questions, not scoffing.
“As a matter of fact it does pay well. Unfortunately, after the cable channels started showing those haunting shows, many people became convinced their houses are haunted. People are easily convinced of such nonsense.”
Gordon was taken aback. “Nonsense? How can you call it nonsense when you make your living talking to ghosts?”
“There are legitimate hauntings, but they are few and far between. I waste my time going to structures with very earthly reasons for the disturbances. My last job in Nevada was one such example.” She took a sip of her coffee and a bite of her muffin. This was her down time. She needed to relax in spite of the detective sitting across the table from her. “A hotel in Nevada was thought to be haunted. One cable show came in and could not verify it. A less reputable show came in and showed bricks flying through the air and spirits chasing them out in the middle of the night. The owner was fed up and asked Josh for help. I found no spirits in the hotel. The workers that were too scared to finish refurbishing the structure can now return to work.”
“Ah.” Gordon was enjoying this conversation more than he anticipated. He expected her to be full of herself and see spirits everywhere. This woman knew enough not to involve herself with charlatans. “So, Mr. Jergins thinks he’s haunted?”
Marion smiled. “Cute, Gordon. I cannot tell you anything about what I was doing there. It’s bad enough you know how I make my living. What was your major at UCLA — or did you attend a different college?”
“Law,” Gordon replied. “I got a little sidetracked when I started working for the LAPD. Have you always seen spirits?”
“Yes. I was 10 years old before I realized my aunt passed away before I was born. I assumed she lived with us.” Marion paused, took another sip of coffee and a bite of her muffin. Gordon waited for her to continue. “Mom sat me down one day and told me my imaginary friends had to be put away. I was too old for such things. I didn’t understand what she meant. After a bit of conversation I realized she meant Aunt Mary. When I told her I was talking to Aunt Mary she became upset and told me cruelty was not acceptable in our house. When I told her something Aunt Mary told me to prove it to her, she believed. She was a little frightened, but she believed. She told me not to tell anyone as it could cause me a lot of grief.” Marion paused, and then asked, “Have you given up on law?”
“No, I expect to take the bar exam soon. At least that’s what I tell myself every now and then.” Gordon remained quiet for a minute then asked, “What did your aunt tell you to prove it?”
“She told me how she died, protecting my mother while she was pregnant with me. I reasoned that she was attached to me but she left me when my mother died. So she was earthbound because of my mother.”
“So when your mother died you suffered a double loss. Wow! I’m so sorry!” He went back to his coffee, unsure whether he should have spoken his feelings. “So did they both walk into the light?”
Marion smiled. “You watch too much TV. If there is a light, it isn’t visible to me.”
“So where do they go?”
“I’m hoping home to be with Jesus. That’s where I hope to see them. Not all spirits stay earthbound. I would say most leave and just a few are compelled to stay, like my Aunt.”
Gordon looked at Marion in astonishment. “Jesus? I wouldn’t think a religious person would be in your line of work.”
“What does one have to do with the other?” Marion replied with an irritated tone. She was tired of people assuming that those who had contact in the spirit world were atheists or agnostics.
“Sorry, I hadn’t given it much thought. I just never heard Jesus mentioned by anyone who conversed with the spirit world.”
“And I guess you think I wear a scarf, sit in front of a crystal ball and speak with an accent of some kind?” She was really working up a head of steam.
“I’m sorry. Really! I wasn’t thinking. You’re right. I’ve had little exposure to someone in your line of work and I’m working on stereotypes. Please forgive me.” Gordon was beside himself. He realized too late he should have given some thought to his response rather than blurting out his first words that ca
me to mind.
Marion softened. “No, you’re fine. I guess I’m still a little tired. I get a lot of abuse from people who are Christians when they find out what I do. They feel it is contrary to faith. I cannot help what I see, and I feel compelled to help since it is obviously a gift from God.”
Gordon sipped his coffee and asked, “Do all spirits talk to you? Do they leave when you ask?”
“No. Some are residual hauntings. It’s like a scene in a movie playing over and over. I have no idea why, but there’s no way to communicate that I know of. Others may take some convincing just to get them to communicate. Most of the time they don’t leave but they tone down their activity. But some do leave. I haven’t had to converse with anything malevolent, so I wouldn’t know about any of the more violent spirits that have made news.”
Marion continued working on her muffin. After a few minutes of silence she said, “I will be back at Mr. Jergins house at three today. Is it a coincidence that you will start your shift then?”
“Yes,” he responded, “it is. Your visits don’t concern me. My interest is what he does when he’s not expecting company. Were you intending on returning when I spoke to you yesterday.”
“No,” she said, “It was a request made this morning. That’s all I can say except that Mr. Jergins will be there.”
Gordon frowned. “It’s my understanding he moved to a hotel. Are you sure he’ll be there?”
“Yes, he’ll be back to meet me there. Really, that’s all I should say.”
Gordon looked concerned. “I can’t believe you go to these places alone. Doesn’t your boss send a second person to help protect you from any earth-bound person who may get violent?”
“I don’t need anyone with me. Trust me. I can take care of myself. Do you expect Mr. Jergins could become violent?”
“Not necessarily,” Gordon looked unconvinced. “Just remember, I’m outside if you should find anything troublesome of an earthly-nature.”
Marion arrived at the Santa Clarita address a few minutes before three. She saw a small, timid, balding man pacing in front of the house. He looked like an accountant or a banker from the old black and white movies of the ‘30s or ‘40s. His clothes were disheveled and he looked ready to bolt at the first loud noise.
“Mr. Jergins?” she asked.
“Yes? You were sent by Mr. Daniels?” he responded uneasily. He was visibly shaking.
“Yes, sir. Shall we go in?”
“I don’t understand why you need me here. Can’t you just spray some holy water and say a few prayers to rid me of whatever is there?” He used a handkerchief to wipe his sweat-drenched face.
“I’m not an exorcist. I communicate with spirits. Holy water and prayer are of no use here. I walked through your house yesterday and got no sense of a spirit. Now, if you want a thorough investigation, you will have to come in with me. There’s nothing to fear, Mr. Jergins. I haven’t lost a client yet.” These last words were meant to break the tension and maybe produce a smile or, hopefully, a laugh, but no luck.
“Lost? Lost! You mean people die during these whatever-you-call-them, investigations? I don’t know…” He seemed ready to bolt.
“Mr. Jergins!” She decided a forceful tone was necessary. “We need to determine if the spirit is attached to you and not the house. This will determine that. If this spirit wanted you dead, you would be. Now let’s get in the house and figure this thing out.”
“If it’s absolutely necessary. I can’t live another day like this.” He seemed to be submitting to her will. What a putz, she thought.
As they approached the front door she stopped and turned to him. “Whatever you do, remain calm and still. If the spirit manifests, I need time to communicate. Understood?”
He nodded. She unlocked the door and they entered.
The house was clean and quiet, just as it was the day before. Mr. Jergins stood shaking in the entryway. She walked into the living room and sat on the sofa. She hoped Mr. Jergins would do the same but he remained standing in the entryway as if wanting to make a swift exit if things went awry.
“Please sit down, Mr. Jergins.” She waited and watched him shaking. Did he hear her? “Mr. Jergins?” she said a little more loudly. He turned and looked at her. He was white as a ghost. Maybe he’s been looking in the mirror and scaring himself. She smiled at that.
“Is my discomfort amusing you?”
Well, at least he wasn’t catatonic. “No, sir. Please sit down.” This time he responded to her and approached the sofa timidly. He sat down slowly and carefully, as if not wanting to wake someone sleeping. As they sat in the quiet room he seemed to relax a little. Then Marion saw her. A white form came down the stairs as if to see who entered the house. She looked young, maybe 30. Marion stood and when she did, Jergins stiffened. It was clear he couldn’t see the spirit.
“Hello,” Marion said as respectfully as she could. It was always best to start communications without any sort of judgment. “Are you the spirit haunting this man?”
Jergins had started to shake. She held her hand up to him as if to say, “Don’t move.”
“Yes, and I intend to continue haunting him until he is judged.” The spirit seemed determined. Her form was white and cloudy. Marion couldn’t determine much about her.
“My name is Marion. What’s yours?”
“Catherine. Catherine Goodman. Are you a friend of this man?”
Marion felt the truth was always best. “No, he has retained my services to communicate with you. He is disturbed by your activities and would like you to stop. As you have a goal in mind, may I ask you why you are haunting Mr. Jergins?” Marion was choosing her words carefully. Any wrong word heard by Jergins would make him bolt and the spirit would be gone.
“He is a vile, disgusting creature that must be stopped,” Catherine said with determination. Clearly she was a ghost with a purpose. As she spoke, her definition revealed more detail. Marion could make out blonde hair and a business suit.
“What is it that makes you feel that way?” Marion responded in the most evasive words she could find. Jergins was paler than ever.
“He hurts children. I will not allow him to continue. Please let him know he has few options here.” Catherine appeared to accept Marion as a go-between. Her form grew less detailed as she continued. She seemed better viewed when her emotions were intense.
“How is it you became attached to him?” Marion felt she needed some history in order to find a resolution.
“My husband did the same to my children.” Catherine grew sad as she remembered her own history. “I was completely in the dark. In hindsight, I probably should have known. One of my girls told a counselor. I was called to the school and found the police waiting with the counselor and the principal. The nurse had performed an examination and found physical evidence of the abuse.” Catherine moved to the window and her form seemed to fade. “I was dumbfounded. My daughter felt she couldn’t tell me. It was like a knife in my heart.” Catherine looked at Marion and said, “I failed my children!”
Catherine crossed the room and stood in front of Marion. If she were a live person Marion would have been able to smell her breath, she was that close. “I left the school when they told me my children would be held in protective services. I went directly to my husband’s office and told him it would be a cold day in hell before he would touch my children ever again! He actually smiled at me. SMILED!” Her emotions were intense and again Marion could see her more clearly. “Can you believe that? He was not the man I thought he was. And then I was no longer in my body. I could see Ben’s face change to concern and he got up and crossed the room. He knelt down and when I looked down I saw my body on the floor. I died: a ruptured brain aneurysm. I had no idea I had an aneurysm and when my babies needed me most, I was dead!�
� Marion could feel the sorrow from Catherine. In death she still could not believe her misfortune. Catherine floated away from Marion, closer to Jergins. As the spirit’s emotions changed from anger to sadness, her form faded. Marion kept a close eye on Catherine so as not to lose her location.
Marion said, “Those things happen. I’m sure the shock of the day didn’t help.” Once again, keeping her words as benign as possible she hoped to direct the spirit away from her client.
“No, that certainly didn’t help. My husband lied to the authorities. He said a friend of mine had done those things to our children. He inimated I had threatened them not to reveal the truth. He told them he could understand the children wanting to obey their mother and they gave them back to him! I became in enraged. I haunted him vigorously. I made sure he couldn’t get near the kids without my wrath exploding all around him.” Catherine started to glow brightly and turned angrily toward Jergins. He stiffened as if in response to the proximity of the spirit. Marion knew he couldn’t see Catherine but, somehow, he felt uneasy.
Catherine turned back toward Marion and continued, “In the end he gave the girls to my mother to look after. He knew I was the ghost haunting him and figured I would follow the girls. He started to drink heavily once he understood he was the one I was haunting. It didn’t take long for him to take a tumble down the stairs during one of his drinking binges. I wish he had stayed earthbound. I would have loved to kick his ass!” Catherine smiled at the idea.
