Tessa returned a minute later with a bottle of rubbing alcohol, bandages, and a wet cloth. The cut stung as she cleaned it.
“Quit being a baby,” she said.
“I didn’t wince at all.”
“You wanted to.”
“Hey, did you know Libby has a boyfriend?”
“Justin. Yeah, he’s a nice kid.”
“You’ve met him?”
“Of course.”
“Why did I not even know about him until today?”
“Because she knows you won’t get along with her boyfriends.”
“That’s not the point,” Rand said. “He’s a dweeb.”
Tessa applied the bandage to his face. “And this is why she hasn’t introduced the two of you.”
“And he pretends to play guitar just to get girls. I can’t believe that worked on Libby. She’s too smart for that.”
“I admit, he’s a bit weird, but he’s good for Libby right now.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Tessa used the wet rag to wipe the dried blood from Rand’s cheek. The giant diamond engagement ring that Bill had given her threatened to give him a new cut. “It means we need to keep her dating him as long as possible. Because eventually she’ll break up with him and date some bad boy to overcompensate.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because that’s exactly what I did when I met you.”
“I was not a bad boy.”
Tessa snorted. “Motorcycle, no money, didn’t care about anything.”
“That was before the ghosts.”
“Now you’re just a haunted, semi-reformed bad boy. Don’t worry, I found my happy medium.”
“Bill is not a happy medium. He’s an even bigger dweeb than Justin.”
Tessa slapped his shoulder. “Rand, you don’t even know him.”
“I know the type. Come on.”
Just then, Bill appeared at the entrance of the living room. He wore a white tennis outfit with shorts Rand considered far too short and a visor wrapped around his balding head. “Oh. Hi, Rand.” His body grew rigid and nervous.
Rand nodded at him. “Bill.”
“I’m going to go hit some balls with Frank,” Bill said.
“Okay. Have fun.”
Bill shuffled out the front door.
“I bet he likes hitting balls,” Rand said.
“Shut up. I’m done, so you can leave now.”
“You think he heard me earlier?”
“Rand. It’s time for you to go.”
Rand stood and ran his fingertips over the bandage on his face. “Nice patch work, Tess.”
“You’re welcome.”
“By the way, remember when I slipped on Adam’s Peak in Sri Lanka? Gashed my thigh open from here to here, and no one was around for miles?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Tessa said, “you don’t need me or anyone else to fix you up. But it makes Libby happy to see it. That’s the only reason I do it.”
“Not the only reason.” He smirked.
She shuffled him toward the front door. “Goodbye, Rand.”
“Tell Libby to bring that guy over to my house next week. I have some questions for him.”
“Sure thing, Rand.” Tessa’s tone was flat as she shut the door behind him.
Rand normally would have had no problem lingering a few more minutes to agitate his ex, but Georgia Collins returned to his mind, and the recorder underneath her bed that hopefully contained all the answers he needed.
9
Back at the hospital, Rand went to the tenth floor and greeted Harold. The guard smiled wide and shook his hand.
“How’s everything going today, Harold?” Rand asked.
“It’s a blessed day,” he said. “Here to see Miss Georgia?”
“I am.” Rand signed the paper in the binder and Harold gave him a nametag sticker. This time, he only wrote “RAND” on it.
“She’s a sweetheart,” Harold said, still smiling. “One of the best kids who’s come through here. Shame about the condition she’s in.”
“I agree,” Rand said. “Do you spend much time with the children, Harold?”
“I do when I can get away from my post,” he said. “I have an open-desk policy around here.” He leaned over and opened a big drawer in a filing cabinet behind him. Inside was an assortment of candy and toys. “For the younger ones.”
Rand wondered if Harold was this friendly with all the visitors. He also wondered if he knew about Georgia’s little paranormal problem.
“Lucky kids,” Rand said. “Maybe I’ll take advantage of that open-desk policy myself.”
Harold laughed. “Be my guest.”
Rand found Nick and Maria in the room, huddled together on the couch and reading something on an iPad. The television was on the news channel and muted. Georgia was not there. A chair propped open the door, but Rand knocked on the doorframe anyway.
Nick and Maria looked up and smiled when they saw him.
“Come in,” Maria said, standing. Nick joined her.
“Good afternoon,” he said, as he walked in. He glanced around the room, but Georgia was gone.
“She stepped out,” Nick told him.
Rand bent down and snatched the recorder from underneath Georgia’s bed. The battery signal flashed red, but it was still on. He pressed the button, turned it off, and slipped it into his jacket pocket just as Georgia appeared in the doorway, rolling her oxygen tank behind her.
“Hey, it’s the ghost man,” she said, smiling. She removed her big sunglasses. “You’ll never guess who I’ve been talking to.”
“Libby already told me,” Rand said.
“She seems cool. We’re going to hang out soon.”
“Libby is my daughter,” Rand told Maria, who seemed confused by the conversation.
“Oh. How old is she?”
“Sixteen.”
“What happened to you?” Georgia asked. She stared at the bandage on his cheek.
“Little hiking accident. No big deal.”
“You used your face to break your fall?”
Rand laughed. “Something like that.
“Hey, you know Bonnie, the nurse?”
“No. Haven’t met her.”
“When we walked by the nurse’s station yesterday and we waved, there were three there, right? Do you remember the one with the red hair?”
Rand hadn’t been paying attention. “No, I don’t.”
“Oh. Well she asked me about you. She thinks you’re cute. You should get her number.”
“Ah, I see. I’m actually already seeing someone.”
“I won’t tell her that,” Georgia said. “I don’t like to break hearts.” She unhooked her tubing from her portable cylinder and replaced the end of the tube to the fixture on the wall. “If you want to hang out again, just give me some time. I need to rest.” Georgia’s breath was quick, as if she’d been jogging.
“Take a breather, then,” Rand said. “I have to step out and make a phone call anyway.”
“Sure thing, Ghost Man.” Georgia settled in and grabbed her laptop from the foot of the bed.
Rand went back into the hallway and Nick followed him. Nick kicked the chair away and let the hospital door fall into place.
“Is there somewhere private I can listen to this?” Rand asked, patting his pocket.
“There’s a staff room at the end of the hall that doesn’t get much use,” Nick said. “You can try there. May I… come with you?”
“It’s best if I listen alone first, if you don’t mind,” Rand said. If there were otherworldly voices on the recorder, he didn’t want to frighten his client. Besides, there was no telling what they would say.
“Right,” Nick said. He already seemed afraid of what would be on there. “Georgia mentioned he came to her last night.”
“Then let’s hope we have something here.”
“Break room is all the way at the end of the hall, on the left.”
The bre
ak room had a warm and musty odor to it. When Rand flipped the light switch—only one shimmered to life—he saw that the air vent had been closed. Inside, there was a round table with two chairs, an empty countertop, and a nonfunctioning refrigerator.
Rand slung his satchel off and took out his laptop. He connected the recorder and downloaded the file onto his desktop, then deleted the first hours of footage until he found the material recorded at night. It didn’t take long before the audio line went flat, indicating that Georgia had gone to sleep.
Deep into the night, the line zigzagged to life. He placed his beginning point and clicked play.
He put on his large, noise-cancelling headphones to listen closely.
It sounded like a distant whisper. He turned the volume on his computer all the way up and used his software to amplify the audio.
After listening to the garbled voice several times, he finally discerned words.
Wake up.
Rand’s skin crawled. He had never gotten totally accustomed to hearing the voice of a spirit. The first contact always made him feel very uncomfortable.
Wake up, the voice said again.
There was definitely something visiting Georgia in the middle of the night.
There were long sections of silence. Rand’s guess was that Georgia wasn’t able to hear the ghost speaking to her. Voices of spirits traveled on different frequencies, which were sometimes difficult for human ears to pick up. They usually appeared much clearer on recordings.
Wake up.
Sounds of Georgia stirring awake crept into Rand’s headphones. She most likely sensed the presence.
“Thomas.” Georgia’s voice was clear, although groggy with sleep and raspy as always. “Tell me what you want.”
There was a long bout of silence.
“I can see you’re trying to say something, but I don’t hear anything,” Georgia said.
Thomas spoke again, but Rand could not quite make out what was said.
“My parents think I’m crazy for saying you drop by at night,” Georgia told Thomas. “But they brought in this guy. A ghost man. His name is Rand, and he’s pretty cool. He’s supposed to be some kind of expert.”
And then Thomas responded, but this time he was louder. More agitated. Rand leaned in and paused the audio recording. The words had been unclear at first. He rewound the section and played it again, pressing the headphones into his ears and closing his eyes as he focused.
After listening three times, he thought he knew what the spirit was telling her.
Tell him to leave.
Rand leaned back in his chair and sighed. It looked like Thomas would not be that friendly toward him.
Georgia, of course, did not understand what he said. So she just kept going.
“I try to tell everyone it’s fine that you come by. And that you don’t hurt anything. By the way, are you ever going to do something besides stand in the corner? All you do is stare at me. It’s kind of creepy, Thomas, to be honest.”
Tell him to leave!
This time, the command was much more clear.
“And what do you want, anyway?” Georgia asked. She still couldn’t hear Thomas. “Shouldn’t you be free now? Why do you still want to hang around with CF kids? I’m guessing they don’t have CF in the afterlife.”
I want you to die.
Rand’s breath caught.
“Does it hurt? Does it feel weird? Is there all the ice cream you could ever eat?”
I want you to die.
Thomas sounded angry when he said it. Rand was thankful Georgia couldn’t hear the spirit.
“There isn’t a lot of time left for me now,” Georgia continued. “I realize that. But sometimes I wonder just how long I have left. And when my time comes, will I get to see you? Will I become a ghost like you? I hope not. I’ve been in this hospital room too much already.”
Seventeen days.
Rand closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands. Georgia continued to talk to her friend in his headphones, but he heard nothing else she said.
In his classes, Rand always taught in his classes to never ask spirits about future events. That always seemed to be the first thing people sought to learn when messing around with Ouija boards or other occult practices. And of all the milestones people most asked about—spouses, the number of children, wealth and health—the one thing that should never be asked is the hour of death.
Because these spirits knew. Time was not linear in the hereafter, so lingering presences were privy to future and past events in ways the living were not.
And if you asked about these events, they would happily tell you.
Tears burned in the corners of his eyes. This was why people were not meant to know the future. Rand felt like an intruder in Georgia’s forthcoming life—her timeline, knowing something he shouldn’t.
Thank God Georgia could not understand Thomas. She had not even directly asked, and still he had told her.
Although she had known this boy when he was alive, Rand knew the ghost was not a benign presence. He was bitter at having died young, jealous of Georgia still being alive, and he wanted her to join him in death. While Rand sympathized with the feelings the spirit had, they were not good for Georgia, and his rightful place was in the afterlife where he belonged.
Rand would have to remove Thomas and send him away. If he didn’t, Thomas’s presence would get stronger, and his voice clearer. Georgia would learn her fate sooner rather than later.
He’d had clients before who’d heard their day of death from spirits, and remembered the madness they’d resorted to in order to change it. Ironically, knowing the end ruined whatever time they had left. Yet another reason why people were never meant to know.
Is it a threat instead of a premonition? Rand thought.
Meaning, would Thomas be the one to end her life in seventeen days? Or was he telling her that was when she would succumb to her condition?
Rand rewound the audio and listened again, but the spirit’s meaning wasn’t clear.
Rand swallowed the hard lump that had formed in his throat. Georgia’s cystic fibrosis destined her for a short life, and no one knew exactly how much time time she had left. Seventeen days could very well be accurate.
But if Thomas planned to cause her death in seventeen days, then Rand could save her by sending Thomas away.
He closed his laptop. He knew what he had to do—a cleansing ceremony inside Georgia’s hospital room. That should force Thomas to move on to the afterlife.
And hopefully change the fate he’d promised Georgia.
10
Rand composed himself and packed his equipment back into his satchel.
Although he had only met Georgia Collins yesterday, he was unnerved knowing that in seventeen days, she could possibly be gone.
And that he was the only one in the world who knew. Not even her doctors could predict it. This was when his line of work was especially difficult.
He returned to her hospital room. Nick and Maria looked up at him expectantly.
“Where’s Georgia?” he asked.
“She went downstairs to get something to eat,” Nick said. “Did the recording work?”
Rain pattered on the window. The storm had rolled in swiftly.
“Yes.” He had to be careful with what he said here.
“And is everything all right?” Nick stood, rubbing his palms on his thighs as he did. “Is there actually a ghost?”
“Yes.”
Nick and Maria exchanged a nervous look.
“Are you sure?” Nick asked, his skepticism peeking through.
“I heard it clearly on the recording,” Rand said.
“So what will you do?”
“I’ll remove it,” Rand said. “Once he’s sent away, he won’t bother Georgia anymore.”
And the sooner we do this, the better.
“What do you need from us?” Maria asked.
“Arrange for me to have some time alone in this room,” Ra
nd told her. “It won’t take long.”
“We can request to sign her out for a night and take her home,” Maria said, glancing at Nick, who nodded. “This room can be all yours tomorrow evening.”
“Can we do it tonight?” Rand asked.
“Um. I’ll ask. I guess it would be okay.”
“That would be perfect,” Rand said. “I would still like to have a talk with Georgia about what’s going and what our plan is.”
“She went down to the cafeteria,” Nick said. “You can find her there.”
“Good. While I’m gone, do whatever you need to sign Georgia out for the night.”
When Rand took the elevator downstairs, he checked all around, but did not spot Georgia. He found Mrs. Eloise at the register, and when he approached she looked at him over the top of her classes.
“Well, if it isn’t Miss Georgia’s older man.”
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Eloise,” Rand said. “Have you seen Georgia? Her parents told me she was here.”
“She just came through. Did you check outside?”
Rand went to the far side of the dining area. Although it was storming in full, he spotted Georgia sitting on a bench underneath an awning, watching the rain as it fell into the garden behind the cafeteria. Rand walked outside to join her.
She looked up when she sensed his presence over her shoulder. “Hey, Ghost Man.”
“It’s a wet one.”
“Eh. I like it.” She scooted to the left side of the bench, giving him room to sit. Her portable oxygen rested between her legs, and she was wearing her sunglasses again.
“Not feeling well?”
“Just weak today,” she said. “It happens sometimes. Didn’t get much sleep last night either.”
“Thomas came to visit.”
She looked at him. “How did you know?”
“You texted Libby and told her.”
“Oh yeah.”
“And… yesterday, I planted a recorder in your room.”
Georgia removed her giant sunglasses. Her green eyes bored into him, and her expression was unreadable. Something between anger and surprise.
The Tenth Ward Page 6
