Old Acquaintance

by Terri Reid

  Adeline nodded. “Oh, I think we all agree that’s a very high probability,” she said. “But I never connected any other deaths, outside the asylum, to Tony. No one he knew in town or through school died in a fire.”

  “So, he only had power in the asylum,” Mary said.

  “Or he only had a portal into the asylum,” Adeline countered.

  “That’s an interesting idea,” Ian said. “And how do you suggest we test your hypothesis?”

  Adeline smiled at him. “Why, we must all go back to the asylum and find out for ourselves.”

  Chapter Forty-four

  Once the chain was removed from around the handles, the doors opened easily and without much ado. The light reflecting off the snow-covered fields around the asylum shone through the nooks and crannies of the boards that covered the windows, dimly lighting the interior of the building.

  Ian walked into the front lobby first and then turned to Mary to guide her away from potential stumbling risks. They stood together in the middle of the lobby, Adeline at their side, and took a moment to ascertain the atmosphere of the building.

  “Not exactly inviting,” Mary said. “But much better than the first time.”

  Ian nodded. “Aye, it’s a sad place with horrible memories locked up inside,” he agreed. “But nothing malevolent.”

  “Should we try Tony’s old room?” Mary asked.

  “Seems the best place to start,” Ian agreed.

  “How do you know which one is his room?” Adeline asked.

  “It was in his records,” Ian explained. “The ones that Dr. Buus gave us.”

  Suddenly, Mark Buus appeared in front of them. “You came back?” he asked, surprised. “This isn’t a very safe place to visit.”

  “We still have some questions to be answered,” Ian said. “And, if possible, we’d like to go directly to the source.”

  “Which source?” Dr. Buus asked.

  “Perhaps the people who died in the fires after Tony committed suicide,” Mary suggested. “Are any of them still here?”

  Dr. Buus shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “I tend to stay near my office. But I can show you their rooms.”

  Dr. Buus turned and glided towards one of the hallways, and they began to follow before Mary noticed that Adeline was still standing in the center of the lobby. “Adeline? Mary questioned.

  Adeline was standing still, staring at Dr. Buus.

  Mary moved closer. “Adeline?” she asked again.

  Finally, Adeline slowly turned to Mary. “Mary,” she whispered. “He’s a ghost.”

  Mary grinned. “Yes, he is,” she said. “And remember, so are you.”

  Adeline looked surprised for a moment and then chuckled. “Why, so I am,” she said. “I suppose I forgot.”

  “Well, that’s certainly understandable,” Mary said. “Shall we go?”

  “Oh, of course,” Adeline agreed.

  They quickly caught up with Ian and then headed down the corridor after the doctor. They came to a T in the hall, and the doctor led them to the left. This hall was narrower, and the metal doors were every six feet. Instead of a window, the doors had a small opening with bars. As they walked past a room with an open door, Mary looked in. They were like prison cells with a metal bunk, a toilet, a sink and a small table and chair.

  “These are so bare,” Mary said.

  Dr. Buus looked over his shoulder at her. “Well, this was a prison for the most part,” he said. “And those who hadn’t committed crimes were here because their families couldn’t take care of them or they couldn’t take care of themselves.”

  “This is so sad,” she replied.

  He nodded. “Yes, it is,” he said. “And frustrating for those of us who came here to help.” He shook his head. “There was always too much work and not enough time. I don’t know if I ever made a difference in any of their lives.”

  He stopped at one of the doors. “This was Jody’s room,” he said sadly. “Jody Simmons. She was the sweetest little girl.”

  “Why was she here?” Ian asked.

  “Her family, on advice from a doctor, placed her in here because she had mental problems,” Dr. Buus said.

  “What kind of mental problems?” Ian asked.

  “Poor social interaction skills, poor verbal skills, she would stare out into space for long periods of time,” Dr. Buus said. “She didn’t interact at all with her family. She would just sit in a room by herself and rock.”

  “Sounds like autism,” Mary said.

  Dr. Buus nodded. “Yes. Yes, that’s what we thought, too,” he agreed. “Autism. But, I couldn’t allow them to treat her. She was just too tiny and sweet.”

  “Treat her?” Mary asked.

  “Yes, for autistic children the recommendation in my time was medication and electric shock treatment,” he said. “The medication was LSD, and the side-effects were awful.”

  “That’s criminal,” Mary replied, repulsed.

  He nodded. “That’s what I thought, too,” he said. “And the behavioral change treatments were things I wouldn’t have used on an animal. The primary emphasis was on punishment and pain.”

  “A child can’t respond to anything like that,” Mary said.

  “Unfortunately,” Ian inserted, “medical science knew very little about autism. They actually linked it with schizophrenia. It wasn’t until the 1980s and 1990s that they finally discovered the benefits of controlled learning environments and other types of therapy.”

  “She loved music,” Dr. Buss said.

  “I beg your pardon?” Mary said.

  He smiled at her. “Jody loved music,” he said. “When I brought in a music box, she would smile. It was such a breakthrough. I thought that if we could continue using music and positive reinforcement she might actually be able to return to her home.”

  “What happened?” Ian asked.

  Dr. Buus sighed sadly. “She died,” he said, his voice breaking. “She died in a fire.”

  Chapter Forty-five

  “Why would he want to kill her?” Mary asked. “Jody was harmless.”

  Dr. Buus shook his head. “She was sweet. She was innocent. And she was weaker than he was,” he explained. “That was all the motivation he needed.”

  Mary stepped into the tiny room and gasped softly when the child appeared in the corner of the room. “Hello, Jody,” Mary said softly.

  “She’s in there?” Dr. Buus asked, sliding through the wall and entering the room.

  As soon as she saw the doctor, the child’s face filled with joy. The doctor glided across the room and knelt in front of her. “Oh, it’s so good to see you,” he said, emotion thick in his voice. “How are you?”

  She patted her ear and then looked at him expectantly.

  “Music?” he asked. “You want music?”

  She smiled again and patted her ear.

  Dr. Buus turned to Ian and Mary, in dismay. “I don’t have any music,” he said, pleading for help.

  Ian pulled out his cell phone and touched a music app. In moments, a soft lullaby filled the room, echoing off the bare and paint-chipped walls. The child’s smile grew wider, and she put her tiny hand on the shoulder of the doctor. Reverently, she leaned forward and placed a kiss on his cheek.

  Crystalline tears trickled down the doctor’s face as he smiled back at the child. But then, the look on his face turned to confusion.

  “What’s wrong?” Ian asked.

  “There’s a large, glowing white light in the corner of this room,” he said. “And I know it wasn’t there before.”

  Mary smiled over at Ian, tears forming in her eyes. “Does Jody see it?”

  Dr. Buus motioned to Jody to look, and the child’s eyes opened in wonder when she looked in the direction her trusted friend pointed.

  “Well, now you have your answer, Mark. You made a difference,” Ian said. “Not only in this life, but in the next. You were still here on earth so you could help bring Jody home too. It seems that you were the
only one she would trust to take her.”

  “But, I can’t leave now,” he said. “Who will help you?”

  “We’ll figure things out here,” Mary said. “You need to take Jody’s hand and walk to the light.”

  Ian turned off his phone and smiled down at the child. “And I promise you, the music up there will be sweeter than any you’ve ever heard,” he said.

  Jody smiled up at him and patted her ear.

  “Aye,” Ian said, patting his own ear. “Just so.”

  Dr. Buus stooped down and scooped Jody up in his arms. Trustingly, she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, and he straightened and turned to Mary and Ian. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for finding us.”

  Then he walked forward to the corner of the room and disappeared from view.

  “So, that’s how it’s done,” Adeline said, dabbing at the tears in her eyes. “It’s quite beautiful.”

  Mary nodded. “It’s the best part of my job,” she said. Then with a deep breath she turned to Ian. “And now, what are we going to do without Dr. Buus?”

  Chapter Forty-six

  The trio exited Jody’s room and continued down the hall. “Tony’s room is the next one,” Ian said. “But I don’t know who stayed there after he died.”

  “The asylum actually stopped using it beyond the first few years after Tony’s death,” Adeline said. “Unfortunately, it seemed that anyone placed in this room ended up committing suicide too.”

  “With Tony’s help?” Mary asked.

  “That would be my assumption,” Adeline replied. “He was a predator after all.”

  Ian walked in the room first and looked around. It was nearly identical to Jody’s room.

  Adeline followed him in. “Just as I hoped,” Mary heard Adeline say.

  “What did you hope?” Mary asked as she entered the small room too.

  “A mirror,” Adeline replied. “This room has a mirror.”

  Mary looked at the mirror bolted to the wall and then looked back at Adeline. “You’re right,” she said. “Jody’s room didn’t have a mirror.”

  “It was part of his treatment,” Ian said. “He was supposed to talk to himself and discuss his feelings.”

  “Was that his idea?” Adeline asked.

  Ian thought about it for a moment and then nodded. “Aye, you’ve the right of it,” he said. “He suggested it to Mark. He thought it would be helpful if he could see himself.”

  “Why? What’s the big deal about Tony having a mirror in his room?” Mary asked.

  “Mirrors, from ancient times, have been considered portals,” Adeline said. “Especially paranormal portals.”

  Mary shook her head. “I’ve never heard of that,” she replied.

  “In your high school, they didn’t talk about standing in front of a mirror and calling for Bloody Mary three times?” she asked.

  “Well, yes, they did,” Mary admitted.

  “And didn’t you ever hear of the superstition about seven years of bad luck if you broke a mirror? Adeline asked.

  “Of course, but I never thought…” Mary stared.

  “And did you ever hear about the custom of covering all the mirrors in a house in mourning so the spirit didn’t accidentally get trapped in one?”

  “That’s why they covered mirrors?” Mary asked.

  Adeline nodded. “Since the early Mesoamerican culture, mirrors have been considered portals to other realms. Even scrying bowls have reflective, mirror-like qualities.”

  “So, you think this mirror has served as some kind of a portal for Tony?” Ian asked.

  Adeline nodded. “If he was as smart as we think, and had studied enough about the paranormal, he would have figured this out.”

  “And he asked for a mirror,” Mary said.

  “That mirror was always a creepy thing,” a voice called out from the hallway.

  Ian and Mary poked their heads out of Tony’s room while Adeline slipped through the wall to see who had spoken. The ghost of a man in his mid-thirties stood in the doorway of the next room.

  “Hello,” Mary said. “I’m Mary, and you are?”

  “Frank Marnette,” he said with an easy smile. “I’ve been waiting a long time for you to come.”

  “You’ve been waiting for Mary?” Ian asked, stepping between Mary and the ghost.

  “Naw, don’t know nothing ‘bout her personally,” Frank replied. “I’ve been waiting for someone, anyone, to release us from this place.”

  “Why can’t you leave?” Mary asked.

  “Tony,” Frank said. “Tony’s spirit kind of rules this building, and we’re all kind of stuck here until Tony goes away.”

  “He’s not here now,” Mary said.

  “Don’t matter,” Frank said. “His hiding place is still here. It’s got power.”

  “How does he get to his hiding place, Frank?” Adeline asked.

  “That there mirror,” Frank said. “I seen him hopping in and out of it myself. Once afore I died, but after that, plenty of times. ‘Specially when they had other folks staying in that room.”

  Mary turned to Adeline and shook her head. “I will never, ever doubt the wisdom of a librarian,” she said.

  Adeline curtsied and smiled. “And now, I think we should find some tools and remove that mirror.”

  “Then what?” Mary asked.

  “I believe,” Ian said, “if we have his portal, we’re in control.”

  “If you cover it, he can’t get in,” Adeline said. “If you destroy it, he doesn’t have a place to hide.”

  “Hide from who?” Mary asked.

  “Most of the spirits you’ve helped have simply had unfinished business here,” Adeline said. “But they wanted to eventually go to the light, didn’t they?”

  Mary nodded. “Yes, they sometimes have tried to avoid it because they didn’t want to leave someone they loved. But, they eventually wanted to find peace.”

  Nodding, Adeline smiled at Mary. “Yes, perfect choice of words, peace, eternal rest,” she said. “But that was because they were good people, not perfect, but good. Tony studied religion. He had no doubt what was waiting for him at the end of life, unless he could hide from it. Instead of a light, Tony would have encountered the reward he deserved. Darkness.”

  “Darkness?” Mary repeated. “What kind of darkness?”

  Adeline shook her head. “I don’t know for sure,” she said. “Some religions speak of fire and brimstone, some speak of avenging angels, some speak of vast darkness. I only believe it is something Tony does not want to happen to him, which is why he is trying to enlarge his territory.”

  “To include Freeport,” Mary said.

  “At the very least,” Adeline said.

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Even with the tools Ian had stored in the back of his SUV, it took them about twenty minutes to remove the mirror from the wall. Once it was removed, Ian took off his coat and placed it over the front of the mirror. Suddenly, spirits appeared all around them, gliding through the hallways and calling from the rooms.

  Slowly, with Ian carrying the mirror in his arms, they made their way down the hall towards the entrance.

  “Stop,” one female ghost demanded, stopping in front of them. “What are you doing?”

  Mary stepped up in front of Ian and spoke to the ghost. “We’re leaving with the mirror,” she replied. “We think it will help us stop Tony. Is this affecting you? Is there a problem?”

  The woman looked confused and then slowly shook her head. “I don’t understand why I’ve been here for so long,” she said. “And I’m not sure what I should do next.”

  “Can you see a light?” Ian asked.

  The woman didn’t even look. “I’ve seen it,” she said. “But it’s too far away. I could never reach it.”

  “Well, try now,” Ian encouraged her. “I think you might have the energy to do it now.”

  Still skeptical, the woman shrugged and begrudgingly looked around. Her eyes widened in wonde
r. “I see it,” she breathed. “And it’s close. I can touch…”

  Suddenly, she was no longer in front of them.

  Many of the other spirits, who’d watched the woman, began to search around too. And just as suddenly, one by one, the spirits started to disappear.

  “How odd,” Adeline said. “Could Tony’s presence have trapped them here?”

  Ian studied the scene for a few moments and then slowly nodded his head. “We know that paranormal beings exude energy,” he said, reasoning as he spoke, “because that’s how we measure their presence. If somehow Tony could absorb their energy so they were not strong enough to pass over, it would be, in a way, trapping them here.”

  Ian hefted the heavy mirror in his arms, repositioned it and started to walk up the hallway towards the lobby again.

  “Then why would he want to leave?” Mary asked. “Why not stay here, absorbing their energy, maintaining his power over them?”

  Ian froze and turned to Mary. “Because the power here was at status quo,” he said, alarm in his voice. “And Tony wants more power.”

  He turned to Mary. “We need to get back home quickly,” he said.

  “Why?” she asked. “What did you just figure out?”

  “You’re a ghost magnet, Mary,” he said. “You bring ghosts, and their energy, to you.”

  Mary glanced around the halls, watching as dozens of spirits floated past them and then disappeared. “But nothing like this,” she said, shaking her head. “I get a couple of ghosts at a time. I don’t have hundreds surrounding me.”

  Ian met her eyes, his bleak. “But what if you did, Mary?” he asked. “What if there were a huge calamity in Freeport? Where would all the spirits go?”

  Mary’s heart dropped, and she felt physically ill for a moment. “You can’t think that Tony would be planning something…” she shook her head. “My house is not as big as the asylum. It couldn’t hold…”

  “The hospital,” Ian said. “In just a few weeks you will be inside a hospital, along with several hundred other people.”