Fear No More (Ghost No More Series Book 3)

by CeeCee James

  Since then, I’d covered plenty of Friday shifts so she could go out with him. So, I’d been caught off guard when they started fighting a few weeks ago. In fact, last Saturday when he’d arrived to pick her up, she’d jerked her arm away and stormed off down the sidewalk in the opposite direction. He’d turn to look at me and shrugged, embarrassed, before running after her.

  Part of me really wanted to know what was going on. Did he cheat on her? What the heck happened? But, because Joanna was so reserved around me, I hadn’t feel comfortable asking her. Besides, the safest bet was to stay out of it, since Murray adored her. I had enough trouble in my own life. Definitely didn’t need any drama at work. I needed this job.

  The bell rang at the kitchen, signaling that Mr. Davis’ breakfast special was up. I hurried to grab it.

  “Here you go, Mr. Davis. Sunny-side up, just the way you like them.” I smiled and slid the plate over to him.

  “Breakfast for dinner to warm a man’s heart,” he said in a little sing-song, as he turned the plate a little and reached for the catsup. I pulled a Tabasco bottle out of my apron pocket and waggled it. “Oh! Clever girl!” He took it from my hand. “Nothing like it to spice up the eggs.”

  I laughed. “If you say so!” Tabasco was not my thing.

  “You don’t know what you’re missing.” He grabbed his fork.

  “Enjoy.” I patted his shoulder. A wave of his grandpa cologne and tobacco wafted up. It smelled like stability and love. I took a deep inhale, my insides smiling.

  The bell over the door rang again. I looked up just in time to see Joanna jump into her two-door Ford and speed off. Trevor still sat at the table, his hands threaded through his hair.

  I hesitated, not knowing what to do. Don’t get involved, my inner voice warned me. This never works out; you’re going to regret this! I couldn’t do it. It didn’t feel right to ignore him. Casually, I walked over and straightened the condiments on the table across from him, but he never looked up. “Can I get you anything else, Trevor?”

  He rolled his head up. “Honestly,” he sighed. “I just want to make her happy. Nothing I do works.” He blew out a deep breath and brought his hands to the table with a thump. “Sometimes I think she wants me to be someone else.”

  I chewed my lip trying to think of a response. “Hang in there, Trevor.” Lame! So lame! I tried again. “This will all work out somehow.”Ugggh, I cringed at the way I sounded.

  He gave me a half-smile and then a wink, which startled me. “Things always do,” he answered, before standing up. At the door he turned back. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

  Trevor opened the door hard, sending the bells dancing. He pulled his jacket collar up against the cold air and walked away with his hands deep in his pockets.

  “Oh my gosh! What was that all about?” I whispered to myself. Would he be coming back? I grabbed his cup up and sucked in my breath. Lying on the table was a twenty dollar tip.

  “CeeCee!” Murray called for me, snapping me back to reality. I snatched up the money and stuffed it into my pocket.

  I shook my head to clear the strangeness of that whole conversation. “More water?” I asked Mr. Davis, before heading back to the kitchen to see what Murray wanted.

  “No thank you, darlin.” He refolded the paper, “I’m just about done here.”

  Murray called again, his voice raised impatiently. I ran to the kitchen. “You stay away from that kid. He’s got problems.” He pointed to the counter and snapped his fingers. I grabbed another towel and started cleaning.

  3

  The Long Night

  I didn’t have long to wonder if Trevor would be back. About twenty minutes before my shift ended his motorcycle rumbled up. Dang it! Instantly, I knew there was about to be drama. He came in with a hangdog look and fell into a booth. I shook my head as I walked towards him. He held both of his hands up like he knew he was in trouble. “Honestly, I just want to talk about Joanna.”

  “Trevor, I don’t think I can do much to help you with her,” I answered. “That’s something the two of you are going to have to work out.”

  He grimaced. “Look, I just need someone to talk to. I feel like a friggin’ loser.” He studied me with a dark expression. “Please? Just for a few minutes?”

  Inside, I groaned. But, at the same time, I knew that kind of loneliness. The kind where your heart was breaking and there’s no one to turn to. Against my better judgment, I nodded.

  “Joanna doesn’t love me anymore.”

  I didn’t know how to respond to that.

  “Do you ever think you just want to kill yourself?” He dipped his straw wrapper in the condensation mark on the table, and then rolled it into a ball. “Do you ever wonder if anyone would miss you if you were gone?”

  My blood went cold. “Trevor…. Please, don’t say that. Oh my gosh. So many people would miss you. Don’t even talk like that.”

  He gave me a weird grin and flicked the ball at me. “I’m just kidding, CeeCee.”

  I didn’t know what to do. He stayed for a while, nursing a soda. I listened to him in between customers, doing my best to cheer him up and encourage him. I tried to shrug it off, but I was a little unnerved by his attention, and felt relieved when he finally left.

  Then he showed up the next night. And then the next. Each time telling me how depressed he felt. He started telling me that I was being such a good friend to him, that I was the best part of his day. He always sat in the same back booth with a soda, waiting for me to get a few spare minutes.

  I was kind of dreading how this would all go down. I could just picture it now. Sooner or later he’d decide he liked me, causing Joanna to hate me, and Murray would fire me because he detested work drama.

  On the other hand, it was so hard to resist trying to help Trevor. Honestly, helping him made me feel needed. He’d stare at me with his green eyes and swear that he had no one else to turn to. The problem was that I didn’t know how to help him without causing a big mess. Making big messes seemed to be my specialty.

  The weekend came, and finally, I had a few days off from work. Saturday and Sunday were our best tipping days, so usually Joanna took them. I didn’t mind though. It was a good time for me to get caught up on my homework. And let the whole Trevor-thing, whatever that was, settle down.

  When Monday came I went in for my scheduled shift. I hadn’t heard anything more from Joanna or Trevor. On the bus ride over I wondered what kind of news was going to greet me.

  The restaurant was empty of customers when I walked in, and Joanna was just finishing refilling the coffee machine.

  I gave her a tentative grin. “Hey, how are you doing? Everything okay?”

  She seemed extra chipper as she untied her apron. Pulling out her tip money from the apron pocket, she jammed it into her purse. “I’m great!” Her eyes, rimmed in black eyeliner, went bright when she said that.

  “And you and Trevor?” I cautiously asked.

  “I heard you’ve been talking with him.” She blasted me with a smile that I couldn’t read. Oh crap, here it comes. I started to bite my bottom lip and made myself stop.

  “He’s been coming in to ask for advice,” I answered. “He seemed kind of down. I just give him a soda and a bit of a pep talk.”

  “Well you don’t need to worry about him anymore. No more peppy-pep for him. It’s over.” She continued to smile, alarming me as her lips tightened into white lines.

  Was she really this happy, or was she about to kill me with the coffee pot? Nah, it’d be too hard to make it look like an accident.

  “Okay, that’s good,” I answered, before pulling my apron out of my backpack. I unwound the strings and tied it on.

  “Let’s just say, there’s more fish in the sea, and I’m about to do some fishing.” With that she laughed. Somehow earlier in the day she’d found a coat hanger, and her jacket was hanging from it behind the kitchen wall. She shook it with a quick flick and slid it on. “Bye Murray!” she called over her shoulder
.

  “See ya!” he yelled from the kitchen. Flipping her hair, she minced out of the restaurant in her ankle boots. I tried not to be jealous at how she managed to look like she’d never been at work, but rather shopping all day.

  “Bye Joanna,” I whispered, digesting the snub. I started to roll napkins around the forks and slowly refilled the utensil drawer. There was a warning prickle going down my spine. I breathed in as deep as possible and tried to blow the premonition away.

  The rest of the evening was fairly quiet. My customers were cheerful and great tippers. But, every time the bells over the restaurant door jingled, I was startled. I didn’t know why I was so jumpy, but had a hunch it was something to do with Trevor.

  He never showed up. At nine o’clock I flipped the sign over to “closed” and breathed a sigh of relief. Murray cleaned the kitchen while I did my closing checks and vacuumed. Just as I was putting the vacuum away, Murray yelled, “I’m out, Missy. Lock up when you’re done.” He thumped up the back stairs with heavy steps to his apartment above the restaurant.

  “Got it!” I yelled after him. With the plastic condiment tub in my arm, I walked over to a table to refill the salt and pepper shakers. As I opened the shaker lid, I started talking to myself. “Please don’t come, please stay away.” The prickly sensation had returned and was running the length of my back. I knew it was ridiculous, but what if Trevor showed up and was waiting for me outside? Soon I was belting out those words like they were the lyrics to a song, tapping out the beat with the salt shakers. “Staaay far away. I don’t need any more trouble.”

  My voice echoed back at me in the empty restaurant. Oh, sheesh! I blushed and ran over to the door. Hey weirdo, I mentally chided myself, make sure the door’s locked the next time you act like you’re auditioning for some singing contest.

  I hurried through the rest of the tables. As soon as they were done I locked up the cash register and grabbed both my jacket and backpack from behind the counter.

  It was dark and cold outside. Just as I was turning the key in the restaurant’s front door, a white Pinto pulled up across the street. I froze for a second. Was it Trevor after all?

  A loud voice came from inside the car as the passenger door flew open, and a tall male jumped out. The uneasy feeling grew until the guy turned around. He was just some teenage kid catching a ride. As the car sped off up the street, I jammed the key into my pocket and reminded myself to keep breathing.

  It was almost ten o’clock when I started walking home, and the street was pretty quiet. I passed house after house of lights that glowed warmly into the night. The lights had a two-way effect on me. I wished I was going in one of the houses, walking up the steps and opening the front door into the warm coziness, where a mom and a dad sat watching TV and the children were snug in bed with full bellies. I could imagine their whole life story; soccer on the weekends, family dinners, and a dog name Rover, or Elvis or something.

  For crying out loud, you sap! Knock it off! I rolled my eyes and gave myself a little shake. Just then, a dog started barking from one of the yards, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. He strained to get close to the fence, but the rope tied around his collar was tangled around both a tree and his dog house, and gave him only a few feet of slack. He was a big dog, and even with just a few feet of freedom, he seemed determined to try my leg out for a chew toy.

  I was about to pass by when I noticed his metal water dish was just out of range of the rope. I took another look at the dog. At first glance he’d seemed intimidating, but by the street light he seemed kind of old and on the thin side.

  I shivered, my heart torn. Ever since being bitten as a toddler I had an unreasonable fear of dogs, especially ones I didn’t know. Don’t do it, CeeCee, I warned myself, even as I was edging into the yard.

  The dog lunged at me, and the rope scraped against his dog house. I waited for the outside lights to turn on, but they stayed dark. It didn’t look like anyone was home. Carefully, I shifted my backpack from my shoulder to the ground.

  “Shhh, you’re okay,” I cajoled, speaking to the dog like it was a toddler. “You’re okay.”

  The dog softly growled at me as the hair on his neck rose. Not taking my eyes off of him, I reached into my bag. Rummaging around I found the napkin-covered oatmeal cookie I’d taken from the school cafeteria. I brought it out like a peace offering.

  “Shhh, it’s okay baby, you’re okay.” I broke a piece of the cookie off and tossed it in the dog’s direction. It landed next to the dog house. After giving me another, “Woof,” he scurried toward the cookie. He cautiously sniffed it before gulping it down.

  At my feet was an old 2x4 board. Gingerly, I scooped it up. It must have been lying there for a while and felt wet and black on the bottom, making me shiver. Angling it a bit, I pushed the dog’s water dish up to his house. The dog sniffed the board for a second before making a bee-line for the water. He lapped it up. I smiled and sat back on my haunches to watch.

  After a minute, he stopped and looked at me with his muzzle dripping. I contemplated the rest of the cookie in my hand, wondering if I was brave enough to lure him over with it. I glanced back at the dog, and he cocked his head. In tiny steps, I moved forward with my hand outstretched. He immediately trotted to the end of his rope. I hesitated and tried to control my breathing. His dark eyes blinked at me. Gently, he leaned forward and took the cookie from my hand. I broke out into a huge grin. “Good dog, good boy.” I whispered, feeling giddy inside.

  Brushing my hands off on the backs of my pants, I returned to the street. The streetlight by the dog’s house was the last one on my walk, and it got darker with every step away from it. After another few minutes, I turned left onto Old Farm Road. There were no houses on this two mile stretch. It was my least favorite part of the walk home.

  The moon slid behind a cloud as I hurried along. Growing like a wall on either side of the road was a tall grassy field. Probably some type of crop related to wheat, but I didn’t like the look of it. Too many campfire stories had me imagining glowing eyeballs just waiting to blink at me from its dark depths. I started to hum, “just me, and my shadow--” But the song came out all tight and unnatural, not funny at all, and unnerved me even more. The wind made the grass whisper, causing goosebumps to break out on my arms. Chill out lady, I told myself, but walked faster.

  Finally, I saw my road, looking like a dark gash through the waving grass. I started to run, just too scared to take it anymore. Get me home and behind a closed door! Once I reached the driveway, I took a second to catch my breath. There was a light on in the living room where my parents might be watching TV. I never knew for sure. It was a room I wasn’t welcome in.

  I walked around the length of the house and quietly entered through the back door. There was no dinner waiting for me. This was why I brought the food home from school. Last year, when Mama found out I struggled with an eating disorder, she’d said she wasn’t buying me any more food. The pantry was kept locked with a padlock.

  It was okay, there were some granola bars stashed in the bottom drawer of my dresser. I fished them out and then climbed up on to my bed. In two more seconds, the radio was flipped on, its antennae adorned with a strip of tin-foil. It took time to find a station that wasn’t playing a commercial. Finally… Bon Jovi. Ahhhhh. I leaned back on the pillow and let the music wash over me. I was so tired.

  My inner voice started yelling then, “Get up! Get up! Chemistry test tomorrow!” Groaning, I rolled over and yanked out my science book from the backpack on the floor. Heaving the heavy book up onto the bed, I flipped to the center where the color-coded periodic table stared balefully up at me. “Never… going… to memorize this...” A yawn almost split my head in half. Blinking hard, I tried to focus on the blurring words.

  I jerked as a strange noise woke me up. Crap! I’d fallen asleep when I should’ve been studying again. Disoriented, I pushed myself to a sitting position on the bed. My face itched. A sheet of handwritten notes was stuck to my c
heek. Lovely.

  Rat-tat-tat-tat! From the window, the tight, desperate knocks began again. A thrill jolted me fully awake. What the heck? I stared at the window, my brain frantically drawing from ax murder movies for an explanation. Cautiously, I tip-toed over and reached for the corner of the curtain. I tipped the edge and peeked out.

  The moon was higher now. On the other side of the glass was a girl from my Psychology class. Her face was tense and white in the moonlight. I pushed the window open and leaned out.

  “Oh my gosh, Genae!” I half whispered, half hissed. “You freaked me out! What’s the matter?”

  “Oh my G- CeeCee! You’ve have to come right now,” she begged. “It’s Trevor. He says he’s suicidal.” She reached through the window and grabbed me by the arm. I stared at her hand twisting my shirt. She shook my arm for emphasis. “He says he’s going to do something crazy if you don’t come in fifteen minutes.”

  “Trevor? What?” I shook my head, trying to process. My brain felt like Swiss cheese.

  “Come now, CeeCee!”

  Slowly, I turned. Her words hit me to my core. My dearest friend had committed suicide last summer, leaving behind a swath of devastation, emptiness and guilt. A stab of pain ripped through my heart. No! Never again could I go through that agony. I had to save him.

  I grabbed my cigarettes off the dresser, before digging around on the floor with my feet for sneakers. After sliding them on, I climbed up the window sill. For a second, I hesitated and listened. My bedroom was located in the back of the house, pretty far from Mama and Adam’s room. Still, I checked carefully along the side of the house. Their room was dark, quiet. I jumped off the sill and pulled the window nearly closed, leaving just a fingertip of a gap to get back in.