by Amy Sparling
"Wow," Anna says, clutching her heart. "That is so amazing."
"Yeah, I guess it's a cute story," I say.
"Well now, you haven't let me get to the best part," Margret says. "Ray Tsunami was very popular in his day. And he took on an assistant, too."
"Oh yeah?" I say. Anna smirks at me in this I told you so way.
"Oh yes," Margret says. "He took on an assistant and just a few months later, he married her. It was very romantic. Everyone loved the way they interacted together on the tours."
We're all silent for a moment, Margret and Anna with a dreamlike look on their face, me with an annoyed one. "It's a job, not a marriage proposal, you guys." Margret puts her arm around Anna. "I guess we're just old fashioned."
Chapter 23
It's my first night as a paid tour guide assistant. Raine still hasn't let go of the idea that I need a catchy nickname that will make me look more legit in the ghost tour business. But after two days of hanging out in the museum sketching words and ideas that rhyme with Taylor—we have nothing.
Margret closes the museum an hour early so she can go home and get all of her old lady friends. They are all terribly excited to go on the tour tonight, and Raine has given them all complementary tickets. Raine is sitting on the front steps when we leave the museum, his notebook open in his lap.
"What are you up to?" I ask, stepping down and sitting next to him.
"Still trying to figure out your nick name." He flips the page and looks over all the suggestions we had thought of together. It looks like he's even added a few more without me.
"Do I not get to be an assistant if I don't have a nickname?"
"Of course not. It would just be better if you did." He stands up and slides the notebook back into his pocket. "You ready?"
"For what? The tour doesn't start for two hours."
He gets this smirk on his face that I know I've seen before, but I can't remember when. "I'm taking you to meet my parents."
"What? Why…." I groan. Meeting parents is always a sucky endeavor. They always give me this look like they feel sorry for me and yet also feel kind of repelled by me. Like if they touch me, then they might become poor too. Raine takes off walking down the sidewalk, forcing me to chase after him. "They just want to meet you. It's a pretty big deal that I'm getting an assistant as I've always been a one man show."
"It is a bad thing?" I ask. Raine makes a quick stop and I almost slam into him. We're at his car that is once again parked illegally on the side of the road. He clicks his keys and the lights flash, unlocking the door. We climb in the car and Raine looks over at me. "No, they are actually very excited."
We get to Raine's house so quickly, that I start to panic because I haven't had enough time to prepare myself for meeting his parents. The house is just as historically beautiful as I remember it from the night we went to play mini golf. Two stories tall, white with blue shutters, and a wraparound porch with little Victorian decorative wood workings in all the corners. The house looks very old but kept in good condition. Raine parks on the side of the road and we walk through the grass up to his front porch. There is a metal ornamental sign in the front yard, designating it a historical landmark.
"What does that sign say?" I ask as we walk past it.
"It's a historical marker," Raine says, flipping his keys around in his hand, stopping on a house key. "I'll tell you about it later." He unlocks the door and lets me inside.
His house is beautiful inside too. It looks like something out of an HGTV show. He weaves me through the foyer and across a living area into the den at the back of the house. His parents are in a corner of the room, talking about something that's making them both smile. The first thing I notice is that his dad is in a wheelchair.
"Mom, Dad," Raine says. They turn to face us. His dad has the same eyes and mouth as Raine. "This is Taylor."
His mom breaks into a smile. "Hi Taylor, it's so nice to know you."
I smile, twisting my ring around my finger. "Nice to meet you, Mrs.-um, Tsunami?" She chuckles. "Yes that's right but you can just call me Marilynn." I nod. "Is that your real last name?"
"Nah, I had it legally changed before I was married," Raine's dad says, rolling toward me. Instantly, I feel awkward. It's not that I have anything against handicap people, I mean of course I don't, but I always feel like I have to try extra hard to act like it's no big deal. He reaches up to shake my hand. "How ya doin, Taylor?" I hate that I have to look down at him. He's going to think I'm totally inconsiderate. "I'm good, thanks," I mumble. He rolls back and offers us the couch to sit on. "You can call me Ray."
Marilynn talks about the first time she found out Ray's last name was actually Tsunami and that it wasn't just a pseudonym. I smile and nod but all I'm thinking about is how Ray looks exactly like Raine. He's totally hot for an old guy, and with the way Marilynn looks at him, she feels the same way too. But she isn't so bad herself. I bet all of Raine's friends call her a MILF.
"So what brings you to Sterling?" Marilynn asks. I don't realize she's talking to me until Raine nudges me. "She moved here with her mom," he says. "Oh, yeah," I say, improvising. "I just, got bored, with living with my dad, so I moved here."
"That's nice," she says. "Sterling is such a great place. I always tell people you can just tour the island, you have to live here to really experience it."
"Yeah, I'm learning that," I say. She smiles. In fact, they both do. I think this is going really well.
"Do you have what it takes to be Raine's assistant?" Ray asks. He awaits his answer with a straight face and I can't tell if he's joking or serious or what. "Yes, sir," I say, adding the sir just in case.
"Do you know anything about giving ghost tours?"
"What about the history of Sterling Island? Do you know a lot about that?" Marilynn asks. My heart pounds. I glance at Raine and wonder why he hasn't told them a single thing about me. "Well, I don't know anything about giving tours," I say, much to their disapproval. "But I do work at the railroad museum."
"Wow, well that's something," Ray says. "Is Margret still there?" I nod. "Well then I'm sure she's told you all about the ghosts that haunt the museum. Mrs. Kline is fairly mild though."
"Yes, sir, she has told me just about everything there is to know about the railroads."
"And the ghosts?" Marilynn adds.
"Yes of course," I say, feeling stupid for even talking about it. "The ghosts too."
Ray slaps his hands on his knees. "How long have you worked there?"
"A couple months." They both look at me. Raine laughs, and I jump, having forgotten he was sitting next to me. "I told you, Mom," he says. "She's amazing. She even works the night shift."
"Get out of here," she says. "There is no way you work the night shift."
"Yes, ma'am I do." Ray points his finger at me, his eyebrows draw together. "Do you work alone?"
"Yes."
"And you aren't scared out of your mind?"
"No. I don't really believe in that stuff."
"Nonsense," Marilynn says, waving away my words with her hand. She exchanges a smile with her husband, speaking with their eyes that I'm just making that up to sound cool.
"So you don't get scared working at the museum?" Ray asks.
"Nope."
"My God." He looks at Raine. "She may end up stealing your job."
"Tell me about it," Raine says. "Don't think I haven't thought that."
"Oh please. I don't want your job."
Raine looks at me and grins. "You know where I first met her? I was out by The Face and there she is, just walking around the med center all by herself. She walked right up to The Face and didn't even flinch. I mean, sure she didn't know what it was, but anyone can feel the creeps just by being in the vicinity of it."
Raine's mom clutches her chest. "Honey you must be really blocked off to the world if you can't feel the bad vibes coming from that place."
Before things can get really uncomfortable, I say, "Maybe."
&nb
sp; "We should get going." Raine stands and helps me get up too. "I have to give her a run down of how things will go tonight."
"Good luck!" Marilynn says. And then she wraps her arms around me and clutches me in this motherly hug. It's scary and nice at the same time.
"I want to hear all about it later," Ray tells Raine.
We walk through the house toward the front door. A little blond girl bounds down the stairs calling Raine's name. She's wearing princess pajamas and her hair is in pigtails. It's the fairytale version of a little sister. "Hey Stormy," Raine says, hugging her at the foot of the stairs.
"Where are you going?" she asks.
"I have a tour tonight."
"Who is she?" She looks at the floor instead of at me.
"She's my friend. Her name is Taylor. Can you tell her hi?"
"Hi," she says, still staring at the floor.
"Hello," I say back.
"I'll see you later tonight, okay?"
"Okay," she says. She watches us walk out the door, and then I hear her footsteps run back up the stairs.
"Your sister's name is Stormy?" I ask when we're back in Raine's car. "Yep," he says with a sigh. "It's my dad's thing."
"It's kind of cute," I say.
"The dog's name is Twister."
"You know tsunamis don't happen on this continent. I think it's more of an Eastern thing."
He glances sideways at me. "Like I said, it's my dad's thing. I guess hurricane was already taken."
We park in the historic district, in an actual parking lot this time, and that's when my nerves start to awaken in my stomach. "We never went over what I was actually supposed to do tonight," I say, struggling to unbuckle my seatbelt. "You're the assistant. You just assist me," he says.
I give him this you can't be serious look. "Just do the kind of stuff you did last time you were with me."
"I wasn't assisting you then, I was just watching."
"No," he says, opening the backseat door to get his leather jacket. "As I recall, you were making smart ass comments the whole time, which got everyone laughing. You also walked up that flight of stairs where the woman was murdered and everyone talked about that for days."
"They did?"
"Yeah, all my regulars keep asking when you'll be back."
"These people are crazy." I shake my head.
"Crazy and giving out twenty bucks a pop." He walks over to my side of the car and we head toward the meeting place. He hands me the pink hole punch. I feel the weight of it in my hands, remember the first time I saw him use it. My first night as the famous Raine Tsunami's assistant has just begun.
Chapter 24
A cool breeze washes over the island bringing goose bumps to my arms. The crowd seems even bigger tonight than it was the last time I was here. Anna, Pax and Margret are somewhere in the crowd and even though I can't find them yet, it's comforting. Raine skips up the stairs to the front of the building, leaving me standing at the front of the crowd. "Hello and welcome everyone." He slaps his hands together in front of his chest and then opens them wide to the crowd. "I'm so glad you've all come to see the rich history and spiritual presence that exists on Sterling Island. My name is Raine and I'll be your tour guide."
Someone actually claps. These people just love him and his leather jacket and his sunglasses. "If everyone can kind of line up and hold out your tickets, my new lovely assistant will come by and punch them." All eyes turn to me instantly. Margret moves to the front of the crowd, dragging her friend along behind her. I barely recognize her when she's not wearing her museum polo shirt. I punch her ticket and then her friend's. The crowd moves in a fluid motion, forming a neat line behind them. I punch each ticket and can't believe how everyone is taking me so seriously. As I move down the line, one girl asks me if this will be scary. "Only if you want it to be," I say. My coy answer makes her smile. "Good," she says. "Because I don't want to be scared."
I reach the end of the line and then circle back to where Raine is standing, chatting with some of his regulars. Anna and Pax aren't here. I know I'll be fine without them, but it doesn't feel right to be doing something they love without Anna's always faithful excitement about the existence of ghosts.
Raine is at the head of the group, still standing on the top stair of the bank. He's telling everyone about the ghost of a woman teller in the nineteen twenties who was shot during a bank robbery. She is thought to still haunt the bank, especially the teller booth on the far right where she was murdered. The front wall of the bank is all windows, so everyone peers in excitedly, hoping to see something paranormal. I know they won't see anything except the shiny marble countertops and brochures for their free checking services.
"Ain't nobody done punched my ticket yet, miss." A man in faded Wrangler jeans and a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off shoves his ticket in my face. I smell the Crown Royal before his face comes into focus under the dimly lit street. I recognize that smell from anywhere, having grown up with it radiating off my mother. "Here you go," I say, punching his ticket as he holds it out to me. His hands are so wobbly, it takes longer than usual to punch over the little blue star on the bottom right of the card. "I ain't got all night," he says, long after I had finished with his card. Guess his alcohol consumption has him really slowed down tonight.
Raine proceeds through the same places we stopped at during my first tour. After bank, it's an office that housed six different lawyers, all of them dead now from various causes. At least one was murdered and one other was a suicide. According to people who believe in this stuff, that's the recipe for a ghost. I try to focus on being an assistant and not get drawn into Raine's charismatic stories and forget that I have a job to do. But he doesn't specifically give me much to do, so I'm forced to improvise and hope that's enough.
"This is a really great place," I say to some people near me after several minutes of doing nothing to earn my twenty five percent. "Really?" A woman asks. "Do you see a lot of ghosts here?"
"Tons," I lie. We walk another block down The Strand and stop in front of that same staircase from my first tour. "What's he saying?" an older woman in the back of the crowd asks. Although I can't hear him either, I remember the gist of the stairway story. Plus none of it is real, so it doesn't matter if I fudge some of the details. "This stairway leads to the top floor of the building, and it used to be where the owners of the shop below lived. I can't remember their name," I say, straining to hear Raine's speech up ahead to see if he says the name. "And?" the woman says, and I realize I have a small group of people staring at me just dying for more juicy information. "Well some mysterious things were going on with the owner and his employees, they kept coming up missing or something." It was a lie, but I do remember the reporter part, so I keep talking, trying to make my story sound spooky like Raines'. "And so this reporter woman decided to investigate, and she was well known for taking lots of photos of the places and people she interviewed."
My crowd was now about six or seven people who had branched off from Raine's crowd who was now hovering near the staircase. "Well sure enough, that reporter went missing too. And no one ever saw her again. But, they say that if you take a photo of the staircase, nine times out of ten you'll see something in the photo." The woman and her friends' necks almost break as they swing around to look at the staircase.
The main crowd takes turns snapping photos of the dark stairway, some with flash and some without. A teenager with a professional camera about two feet tall is telling people that you need to use a flash in order to see any ghosts in your photos. And she recommends using real film instead of digital even though I'm pretty sure her big ass camera is a digital one. Raine watches them take photos but doesn't say anything.
I walk up to him and whisper over his shoulder. "How many people come back and complain that there's nothing in their photos?" He takes a step back, bringing us closer, my chest pressing against his back. "That has never happened. You're going to drive me mad if you don't start believing in something soon."
"Hey!" the drunk man from earlier yells to no one in particular. "How much will yous pay me to walk up the first step?"
"Walk up five steps and I'll give you a hundred bucks," someone else yells. The drunken idiot pushes his way to the stairway and looks up the narrow pathway that leads to the second floor. Even when I saw the place in daylight, you could hardly see up more than six or seven steps. He lifts his right leg and it hovers in the air over the bottom step. He probably realizes how scared he would be if he weren't so inebriated, but if he's thinking the same thing I am—a hundred bucks is an awesome deal just to walk up some supposedly haunted stairs.
A few people cheer him on and someone cries out in pure terror, begging him to step away from the ledge. His foot hovers for an amazingly long time for someone who'd been drinking hard liquor, but eventually it falls back to the ground. "Nah, I ain't stupid," he says, more soberly than he's spoken all night.
Raine chuckles to himself. "I knew he wouldn't do it."
I go up to the stairway. "Is that hundred dollars still on the table?" A middle-aged man with a girl half his age holding on to his arm steps forward. "Sure, if you think you can make it." I look to Raine for a sign that it's okay with him. He nods once, his arms crossed in front of him.
"Show me the money," I say. The man snorts and pulls out his wallet. The girl looks on as he counts out five bills and holds them in the air. "You go up five steps and it's all yours."
Though I'm not scared of a reporter who went missing decades ago, the stairs are creepy. There could be rats or a dead body or something up there. But I can see up seven stairs so before I can think about it any longer, I step on the first one.
"Now four more," he says, taunting me from his safe place on the sidewalk. The woman grips his arm and smiles up at him adoringly. What a gold digging idiot. I pretend I'm back in the Graves Mansion and keep walking. "Two, three, four five." I stop and feel the cold rush of my breath bounce back to me. Reaching up, I slowly move my hand forward and it collides with a brick wall. This is why I can't see higher than seven stairs; there is nothing but a brick wall up here.
