City of Ghosts

by J. H. Moncrieff

  “No. It’s about Clarke.”

  My back stiffened. “What about Clarke? And how do you know about him?”

  “You have to let him go, Jackson.” The sympathy in her eyes was infuriating. I didn’t need anyone’s pity, especially not hers. Besides, where did she get off telling me what I should and shouldn’t do?

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, turning away from her.

  “Come on, Jackson. I’m a medium. I know these things.” Her eyes welled with tears, and she rummaged through her bag for a Kleenex. “I’m sorry,” she said, sniffling. “It’s so sad.”

  I felt numb. I couldn’t have been more stunned if a lightning bolt had crashed through the window and struck me in the chest. “What’s so sad?”

  “Your friend. I can feel his pain. Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No,” I said, my voice breaking. I never talked about it, not to our mutual friends, not to my girlfriends, not to my family. If I didn’t talk about it, if I refused to accept it, I could pretend it wasn’t real.

  “It’ll help.” She pressed a Kleenex into my hand. I hadn’t even noticed I was crying. “Tell me what happened.”

  “It was his wife. Brandi. Stupid blonde bitch.” I glanced at her, catching myself, but she didn’t appear to be offended.

  “Go on.”

  “She was his first girlfriend, and the idiot went and married her. That was the beginning of the end right there, his first mistake.”

  “You didn’t like her.”

  “No one liked her. Everyone could see what an opportunist she was—everyone but Clarke. Clarke was so damn happy a woman would actually sleep with him that he lost his mind. Sorry.”

  “Hey, it’s okay. No need to censor yourself, really. I can take it. Go on.”

  Where did I start? Did I tell Kate how Brandi had harped on the guy constantly? How she treated him like a slave? Or how she had flirted like crazy with everything that had a penis—including me—right in front of my friend?

  “She was awful. Treated him like dirt. And after they had kids, it only got worse.”

  Once she became a mother, Brandi had decided it was time to catch up on all the fun she’d missed while she was pregnant. She acquired a new group of young, single friends, whom she’d referred to as her “party posse.” Every night, they were out trolling the bars—she didn’t bother coming home until the next day. It was pathetic, but Clarke? Clarke was proud of his ‘hot wife,’ even when she left him alone with the kids night after night.

  “I had a pretty good idea what she was doing when she was out, but Clarke wouldn’t listen. He believed her lies.”

  “Until he caught her.”

  I took a long shuddering breath, holding the part of me that felt like screaming in check. “Yeah.”

  I’d never forget that day. Clarke had come home early from the lab and found his darling Brandi fucking some other dude in their bed. He’d been so hysterical I hadn’t recognized his voice when he called. It took forever to calm him down.

  Kate handed me another tissue and waited for me to regain control. “What happened then? Did he kick her out?”

  “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But no, this was Clarke, and Clarke was a moron.” My friend had agreed to live in the basement while his wife took over the top floors of the house he had paid for. Sometimes she had men over, and sometimes Clarke could hear them.

  “The worst thing was the stuff she did to his little girls, though,” I said, hearing my voice crack but long past caring. I’d never talked to anyone about this before. “She filled them with lies. They acted out, doing the normal shitty kid stuff—slamming doors, saying they hated him, stuff like that. They were pissed that their parents were splitting up, and I couldn’t blame them, you know?”

  Kate nodded, squeezing my hand. I squeezed back, grateful for the gesture. “But they would have gotten over it. Things would have gotten better. Eventually Brandi would have moved out, and even if she took him for everything he owned, it would have been okay. He would have been okay.”

  “He couldn’t see that, Jackson. He was in too much pain.”

  Staring out the window into the darkness, I was desperate to escape. The lump in my throat made it difficult to breathe. I had so many regrets. Sure, he’d said he was having a rough time, but that was to be expected. He was on antidepressants. He was seeing a counselor. He was going to be fine. At least, that’s what I’d thought.

  He’d wanted to go for a drink that night, but I was exhausted. Some dumbass in the claims department had downloaded a virus and crashed the entire system. Clarke called at six o’clock. I was still fighting with the company’s server.

  “Are you up for a beer? I’m not feeling so great,” he said.

  And here’s the part I’d never admitted before, even to myself. When my best friend called me and asked me to go have a lousy beer with him, what did I think? What was my first thought?

  Not again.

  Yep, I was exasperated with my devastated friend. I was stressed out, and tired, and feeling ready to kill someone, and the last thing I wanted to do was listen to Clarke whine about losing Brandi when everyone knew he was better off without her.

  Besides, we’d just gotten together the night before. I figured I’d put in my time.

  “Sorry, man. I’m at work.”

  “That’s okay. You can text me when you’re done and I’ll meet you at the pub. Cool?”

  The hopefulness in his voice made me cringe. Clarke had never cared this much about hanging out before, not since we were kids, but after he’d found out the truth about Brandi, he’d started phoning every day. It had been a few months, and I was nearing the end of my patience.

  “I don’t think tonight’s going to work. Can we do it tomorrow? I’m not going to get out of here for a few hours yet, and to be honest with you, I’m bagged.”

  “Sure, no problem. That’s cool.” He tried to sound cheerful, but he wouldn’t have fooled anyone with that act, least of all me. My brilliant friend, the one with the 4.0 average in the toughest science classes known to man, had flunked drama.

  “Why don’t you give Steve or Dan a call? They’re probably not doing anything, the lazy bastards.”

  “Sure. That’s a good idea. I’ll let you get back to it, then.”

  And that’s when my conscience nudged me—only a bit, but it was enough. “Hey, are you okay?”

  There was silence for what felt like an awfully long time. I was about to hang up, thinking we’d been disconnected, when he spoke.

  “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

  “You know it’s going to get better, right?”

  “Yeah. I have to go, Jacks.”

  “Okay. Take it easy. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

  “And that’s the last time you spoke?” Kate asked, dragging me back to the present.

  I pressed my thumbs into my eyes, which I’d seen in a movie somewhere. It didn’t stop me from crying, but it was pretty fucking uncomfortable. “Yeah.” I didn’t like where this was going. We were heading into territory I tried my best to avoid. I’d gotten remarkably skilled at fooling myself.

  But Kate had picked at too many of the edges, and now the entire bandage was falling off.

  No one knew where he had gotten the gun. It didn’t seem like the type of thing Clarke would have owned.

  But he obviously knew how to use it.

  If not for the intervention of a very nice girl who’d spent several months comforting me, I probably would have joined him. It hurt that bad.

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  I snorted. “Sure. My friend called on me when he was in trouble, and I couldn’t be bothered because I was tired. If I’d sucked it up and gone out with him, he—”

  “He still would have done what he did.” I started to argue, but she cut me off. “He’d been planning it for weeks, Jackson. You might have delayed it by a day or two, but that’s it
.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because he told me.”

  Leaping from the chair, I paced the hall, punching the wall every few steps. The amount of rage flooding my body terrified me. I wanted to kill something. I wanted to wrap my hands around Brandi’s throat and strangle the life out of her. I wanted to….

  “I’m sorry, Jackson. I didn’t mean to upset you. The first time is always hard for everyone.”

  Kate still sat in her chair, calmly waiting while I finished my grade-school temper tantrum. She didn’t appear the least bit fazed.

  “What do you mean, he told you?” Jealousy overwhelmed me, making my teeth ache. “You can actually talk to him? Don’t you need his picture, or one of his belongings or something?”

  “No. The real thing is nothing like you see on TV. All I need is to be close to someone who loves him.”

  That was it. I couldn’t hold it any longer. Pressing my face to the wall, I bawled. Barking sobs were coming out of me, but I couldn’t have stopped them even if I’d wanted to. My hands slammed into the wall again and again, and I wished I could disappear. That I could run away, do drugs, drink myself into oblivion—anything so I didn’t have to feel that pain another day. Anything so I didn’t have to admit the truth.

  He was never going to call me again. He was never going to text.

  Clarke was dead, and he was never going to forgive me.

  Kate touched my shoulder. Turning, I pulled her to me, tangling my hands in her hair. We sank to the floor.

  She held me until there was nothing left.

  ~ Chapter Fifteen ~

  To say I’m not an emotional guy would be the understatement of the year. Not even my family had seen me unhinge the way I just had in front of Kate. Once I calmed down, I felt like I’d run a marathon without a sip of water. All I wanted to do was go to bed and collapse, but she wasn’t done with me yet. I let her lead me to the chairs again, making it clear I wasn’t pleased about the situation.

  “I’m sorry to have sprung this on you. But there’s something I’ve needed to tell you ever since I first met you.”

  “Do we have to do this now, Kate? I’m exhausted.”

  “Hear me out, and you’ll feel a lot better in the morning, I promise.” Looking into my eyes, she straightened her shoulders—a warning I might not like what she was about to say. “You have to let him go.”

  “What are you talking about? I have let him go.” I shrugged, feeling unreasonably hostile but determined to keep my cool this time. “I didn’t exactly have a choice.”

  She took a deep breath. “Jackson, Clarke wants to tell you something.”

  “Give me a break, okay? He’s gone. I get it.”

  “He needs you to accept that his suicide wasn’t your fault. He wanted to go out with you that night to say goodbye, but it wouldn’t have stopped him from taking his life. He doesn’t want you to carry this guilt around any longer.”

  Nope, this wasn’t going to work. I wasn’t going to let her get to me again. “I don’t feel guilty. This is bullshit. The whole thing is complete and utter bullshit.”

  “Come on, Jackson. It’s obvious you do feel guilt. Don’t you understand? Your guilt and suffering is what’s keeping him here. If you can let it go and accept that his death wasn’t your fault, he’ll be able to move on. He’ll find peace.”

  “You’re saying I’m the reason he’s suffering? I’m the reason he hasn’t found peace?” The rage spewed out of me like bullets. I was thisclose to leaving her there and never speaking to her again. I cared for Kate, but she’d gone too far. We didn’t know each other well enough for her to get this personal. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, so why don’t you drop it?”

  “I’m not saying you’re hurting him intentionally. But he isn’t comfortable moving on until he knows you’re okay.”

  “Until he knows I’m okay? I’m not the one who blew my brains out without a thought for anyone else!”

  She flinched as if I’d struck her. “He was sick, Jackson. You have no idea how much pain he was in.”

  As I rejected her explanations, I grew angrier and angrier. If I were honest with myself, I was mostly angry at Clarke. I’d been pissed at him for a long while. I was furious that one stupid, selfish act had ruined so many lives, including mine. And for what? Because some dumb bitch cheated on him and his kid said she hated him? Kids say stupid things all the time. It’s what they do. And as for Brandi, he never should have married that witch in the first place. He should have realized he was lucky to be rid of her. He should—

  Kate grabbed my hand and held it tightly in both of hers. Her skin was strangely warm, and as she pressed her palms into my own, a tingling sensation crept up my arm.

  “What are you doing? Let me—”

  Feelings of hopelessness and despair overwhelmed me. They started in the pit of my stomach and moved quickly to my brain, where they exploded in a cacophony of terrible thoughts.

  Of course she cheated on you. What do you expect? You’re a loser.

  You have no life.

  What have you done that’s worth remembering? Your existence is pointless.

  You’re a sack of shit.

  She never loved you.

  No one will ever love you again. Even your kids don’t love you.

  You’ve lost everything that ever mattered.

  She’s taking everything you care about. She’s won.

  There’s nothing left.

  You might as well do the world a favor and end it now.

  That’ll show her. Then she’ll be sorry.

  No one will care. Your daughters are better off without you.

  The world’s better off without you.

  See how ugly and stupid you are. How could anyone love you?

  You were an idiot to think anyone ever did.

  “No!” Ripping my hand from Kate’s, I nearly fell off the chair. The thoughts ended as abruptly as they’d begun, but the terrible feeling that had accompanied them lingered, the complete absence of hope. My head throbbed. I glared at Kate, embarrassed and ashamed that tears were welling in my eyes again. “What did you do to me?”

  “I’m sorry, but I thought you needed to feel what he felt. So you could empathize. You only experienced it for a few seconds. He lived with it for months.”

  I didn’t want to believe it, but deep down, I knew she was telling the truth. I’d recognized some of those thoughts. A few of those things he’d actually said to me, long before I’d met Kate.

  It was Clarke’s actual thoughts that had invaded my mind, not some sick fantasy of Kate’s. I had to accept it. I didn’t want to, but there was no other explanation—none that I believed.

  “You’ll have to work through your feelings about what he did in your own time. I hope I helped you understand what he was going through, but he isn’t a threat to you. Yuèhai is.”

  “Yuèhai?” Now I was thoroughly confused. “Who the hell is Yuèhai?”

  “The woman you met in Hensu. The one who’s been following you.”

  “How do you know her name? Did she tell you?”

  “Not in the usual way, no. It’s part of what I do. I haven’t talked to her, but I can sense certain things—her name, her motivation, whether she has good or bad intent, stuff like that.”

  Everything was surreal. It was too much, and I was beginning to feel numb. This was by far the strangest conversation I’d had in my life, but Kate was so matter-of-fact, you’d think we were discussing where to go for breakfast tomorrow. “Can you tell how she…died?”

  Kate shook her head. “Usually I can, but not with her. She’s keeping that part of her story hidden. I’d need to have more meaningful contact with her to find out. Sometimes this happens when someone suffers a violent death, or is still really distraught over it. They’re similar to us that way—even ghosts have stuff they’d rather not talk about.”

  “Isn’t everyone distraught over their death?”

 
“Not like this. Yuèhai is an unusual spirit. But to answer your question, no. For some of us, death comes as a relief. When you’re in a lot of pain, it’s a mercy.”

  I thought of Clarke and everything that had gone through his head before he’d died. Kate was right—I’d only been able to handle about thirty seconds of it, and he’d struggled with it for months. I couldn’t imagine what life had been like for him. As close as we were, I’d had no idea.

  Then I remembered Kate’s earlier words. Shivering, I tucked my hands into my armpits to warm my freezing fingers. “How can You-whatever…”

  “Yuèhai.”

  “Right. How could she be a threat to me? What could she possibly do? She’s a ghost, right?”

  “She can make your life miserable, for one. She can drive you insane. And if she gets angry enough, she can hurt you.”

  There were limits to what I was willing to believe, even in my state of near shock. “A ghost can’t hurt a person.” I’d conveniently forgotten how threatened I’d felt that night when Yuèhai cornered me in the bathroom, her malevolence poisoning the air.

  “Oh yeah? See this?” Kate lifted her hair and tilted her head so I could see the long scar running along the back of her neck. I’d noticed it before, but across the front of her throat it was a thin white line. This was much deeper, darker.

  Goose bumps sprouted along my arms, and I resisted the urge to shiver. “You expect me to believe a ghost did that to you?”

  “I don’t care whether you believe it or not. It happened.” She released her hair, letting it fall against her shoulders. “Most are harmless, but there are a few you don’t want to mess with.”

  “What makes you think You-whatever is one of the dangerous ones?” It felt ridiculous entertaining this idea, but I had to. Crazy or not, Kate told one hell of a good story. Even if this ‘your stalker is a vengeful ghost’ stuff ended up being an elaborate joke, meeting her had definitely made the trip more interesting.

  “Yuèhai. I suggest you learn her name, Jackson. You might need it.” Kate was quiet for a moment, pulling her sweatshirt closer around her. “All I can tell you is that something terrible happened to her and she’s furious. She wants revenge. Somehow, she attached herself to you, probably when you invited her in.” The expression on her face didn’t hide how dumb she thought that move had been.