The reality, however, is that mom is gone, Charlotte never arrived, and the dad that I remember from all those years of happiness is nowhere to be found. So responsibility is something that I know pretty damn well by now.
"Take out the garbage, Jimmy."
"Clean up this mess, Jimmy."
"Turn down my TV, Jimmy."
"Take out that damn dog, Jimmy."
"Grab me another cold one, Jimmy."
Do this. Do that. All the time. Every single day. Ever since Mom left. That's my life. Or at least it was my life before David, Trex, and I found that tree. Before we landed here in Ghost Town. And, now, it seemed we were about to get another lesson in responsibility.
Chapter Twenty Two
"Me?!" I said without even putting my lips back together. My mouth was so wide open, you probably could have driven your car in, performed a perfect K-turn, and parallel parked between my back teeth. "The letters are all addressed to me?"
"That's right," said Gasp. "Every single one is addressed to you, Mr. Jimmy Stone."
I still couldn't believe it.
"Now do you understand why we had no idea what to do about our problem? We had no idea who this Jimmy Stone was or how he was going to help us if we've never even seen the guy."
David was quiet, but I could tell he was taking it all in. He was drinking in every single bit of information he could, just like he did when we were in class. Not asking questions. Not answering any either. Just sitting in the back of the class, quiet and learning. He was preparing for whatever we'd need to do. Just like he always does.
"That is," Gasp said and smiled down at me, "until you showed up and I knew we could finally stop these letters from coming every week. Or, we could at least do something about them."
"But what--"
"I'll show you, Jimmy. Don't worry."
I nodded and looked toward David for some kind of validation, who nodded back to me that we not only were going to hear whatever it was Gasp had to say, but that we were going to do whatever we needed to do to help the ghosts of Ghost Town and go home.
Gasp stepped back from us and waved his arm in the air a few times. He spread them both out like wings and made what looked to us to be an invisible square in the air. It was as if he was creating a frame in which to place the letter for us to read.
"This is the letter," Gasp said and clapped his hands quickly to make it appear and spread them back out quickly to hold the frame.
The only problem was, no letter appeared.
"This is the letter," he said and repeated the same steps.
Still no letter.
Gasp was beginning not only to look worried, but downright confused.
"This," he said. "I'm sorry. This has never happened before."
"Try one more time," I said, giving Gasp the benefit of the doubt. He'd brought us this far and he'd done whatever I'd asked of him up to this point. Why not let him have another shot at it.
"This is the letter!" he said and clapped his hands quickly yet again.
And this time, we didn't see a letter appear, but a whirlwind between his framed hands. Swirling fast and hard. It was like a funnel flying backward through the air. Gasp actually looked a little frightened.
"I can't!" he yelled. "I can't move my hands!"
"What do you mean, you can't move your hands?!"
"I can't move them!" Gasp struggled against the whirling tornado. His face showed fear. This was the first time I'd seen him scared since we'd been here in Ghost Town. "I can't move anything."
I looked toward David and Trex who also looked a bit scared. None of us knew what was happening. We just wanted to read the damn letter!
"This is not what is supposed to happen!" yelled Gasp. "This--"
And before he could get out the last few words of whatever he was trying to tell us, we suddenly saw something forming in the back of the swirling tornado. A dark object coming closer and closer to breaking the seal of that funnel. Coming ever so close to the surface of the frame until, all of a sudden, the dark object emerged and flew from the frame.
Gasp's hands fell loose and he collapsed to the floor.
As the dark object hovered in front of, and above us, Gasp's face contorted into the same scared expression that we all shared. He shoved back off the floor and moved toward us, sitting just next to David as we all looked up at the object.
Before we knew what had happened, that dark object morphed into a flowing red dress with a tattered, shredded train. A woman with no face floated in the air, right in front of our stunned faces.
"I am the Oracle Essex and I come from the Order of the Oracles. We're the ones who sent you the letters addressed to this Jimmy Stone. And I'm here to tell you exactly what they said. No more. No less."
She continued to float above us as we all trembled with fear. Not even Gasp, I think, had ever seen this Oracle before. I'm pretty damn sure he'd never even knew they existed, judging by the look on his face.
"Heed these words, Jimmy Stone," she continued. "You will need to follow them closely if you want to help your friends and make it home again."
Oh, trust me, I planned to heed them, but I didn't think I needed to respond. I just sat there and listened as she began reciting verbatim the words in the letter.
"Seven things you must find.
One thing for each day.
Seven things you must find.
Or else they all will pay!
Ghost Town be the first,
But not nearly the worst.
A nose leads the way,
On your very first day.
When you find them all,
Your search, it will stall.
Find her and hear what she'll say."
And with those words, the Oracle Essex disappeared just as quickly as she'd arrived. She was gone.
Chapter Twenty Three
The first letter I ever received that was addressed just to me was from my grandmother. It was something about her being proud of me for something I'd done. I'll be honest and say that I can't even remember now what it was about.
The only letter I ever received that I truly remember is the one my father reluctantly handed over to me a few weeks after Charlotte never came home and Mom ended up leaving us for good.
"Your mother wanted me to give this to you," he'd said when he handed me the wrinkled envelope. It was already torn open across the top and there were old water stains in circles across the front of it. Dad had clearly used it for a coaster at one point and the condensation from one of his cold green bottles had left a ring of wetness on the front of the white envelope. "She gave it to me that night at the hospital. The last one before I came home."
This was, obviously, before Dad really turned into someone I didn't recognize. He had just started to stack up a lot of empty bottles and spend a lot of time in front of the television. At that point, he was still making dinner (on most nights) and taking out the garbage himself. This was also before he really started yelling a lot.
"Why did you wait so long to give it to me?" I asked. "Didn't she tell you to give it to me right away?"
"Does it matter, Jimmy?" he'd said. "Does it really matter at this point, son?" Dad shook his head, looked down at his shoes, and turned away from me. He began stumbling back down the hall and toward the living room. "I gave it to you, didn't I? That's all that should matter."
"You're right," I said, placating him. I didn't need to make him angry at something so silly. I mean, Mom wasn't coming back to him either. "Thanks, Dad. I appreciate it."
Before I'd pulled the letter out of the already-open envelope, I dropped it on the bed, got myself up and closed my bedroom door. I didn't need Dad stumbling back down the hallway and into my room while I read it. I wanted it to be mine. Just mine and not his. He'd had his time. He sat by Mom's bed in the hospital that night she left while I sat home with Grandma and Trex. He had his chance to say whatever he needed to say, hear whatever she needed to tell him. This letter, however, wa
s mine.
So it was just me and Trex in my room as I pulled the letter from the stained white envelope, unfolded the paper, and pushed it down flat on the bed. It was short and sloppy. Mom must have either been in a hurry or her hands had become so weak that the normal, flowing and beautiful handwriting she'd always had was nowhere to be found. Or maybe she was in a hurry and weak. I guess that could make sense.
I didn't care, though, about it being sloppy or the envelope being wrinkled, stained, and already open. I didn't care about what color pen she'd used (it was blue, by the way), or what type of paper it was written on (it was thin and shiny, and looked like it was the back of the table of contents page from the Bible that was in her hospital room - probably the only thing she could find to write on at the time).
The only thing that mattered to me when that letter was pressed down flat on my bed and ready for me to read was that my mother wrote it. She wrote it herself, and she asked my dad to deliver it to me. Sure, it was weeks later, but I didn't even care. It was mine and it was from her. That's all that mattered.
My eyes burned a little and started to well just slightly in the corners as I started to read the short letter. I sat Indian-style on my bed as Trex sat right next to me, his head resting lightly on my left leg. He was interested too. I could tell.
My perfect little Jimmy, one day you'll understand all that's happened to me and Charlotte. One day you'll find your way. One day, you'll be everything you can imagine and everything your father and I have ever hoped for you. And, one day, you'll see me again.
You're the man of the house now, it continued, reiterating what she'd told me the last time I saw her in the hospital. Take care of your father and Trex. I know you can do it. Find the things you need to get you through each day. They're usually right there under your nose, if you just look around. I'll see you soon, Jimmy. Love, Mom
It may not have been the most poetic and touching of letters, but it didn't matter to me one little bit. It was the perfect letter and I could hear my mother's voice reading it to me as I scanned the lines with my eyes. She was standing over my shoulder as the tears began to tap tap tap on the paper while I read.
It was the closest I'd ever come to hearing her voice again since she was gone, and it was exactly what I needed at the time. Even Trex moaned slightly as I reached the end of the letter and began stroking him behind the ears.
At the time, I thought it was nothing more than a mother's last words to her son when she knew she'd be leaving soon. It was a farewell that I needed to close the book on something that I was having a hard time dealing with.
But now, I wonder, after hearing the words of the Oracle Essex just what Mom had meant when she told me she'd see me soon. Did she mean she'd literally see me soon? She couldn't have. There's no way. Could she have possibly known I'd have to search for these seven things the Oracle Essex spoke of in her letter? She couldn't have, right?
Or could she? I wondered as I put my hand on my back pocket, right where I kept the letter my mother gave him, folded up but ready to be read at any time I needed. I had the letter here with me in Ghost Town and now I thought just what all those words meant and why they seemed so prophetic to me now.
No way, I thought, finally convincing myself that I was just thinking too much. It's just a letter. It's just a goodbye.
Or was it?
Gasp had a lot of questions to answer.
Chapter Twenty Four
When the smoked finally cleared and we all had a chance to catch our collective breath, I finally moved up off the floor, shuffled my feet under me, and stood in the center of the room. I placed my hands firmly on my hips, looked down at my shoes briefly, and then back up at David, Trex, and Gasp.
It was Gasp, however, that I was really looking at. I was glaring. I have no idea where this newfound strength (maybe you'd even call it gall) came from, but I knew I had to get across to Gasp the fact that I was 1) pretty angry about what just happened 2) pretty scared about what just happened, and 3) pretty annoyed that he didn't give us any warning about what just happened.
"Gasp," I said with about as much intestinal fortitude as I could muster from my little fifth grade body. "Do you have any idea what you just put us through? Do you have any idea what just happened here?"
Gasp's head was still pointing straight down at the floor. He hadn't looked up since the Oracle Essex had finished her speech and disappeared. It was as if he felt he'd failed. Like he didn't have all the answers that he thought he had, and now he was in a place he wasn't used to being in - with his back against the wall.
"Do you?" I asked again, a little more angry and high-pitched this time. David's face showed just how shocked he was that I had this in me. It even looked to me like Trex was a little frightened. He tilted his head like he didn't really recognize me. "Well, do you?"
Gasp lifted his eyes slowly toward me, and then the rest of his head followed behind. It was as if his eyes were pulling the rest of his face and everything was fighting those eyes. His head didn't want to look up, but he was forcing it.
"Jimmy," he said in what was probably the quietest voice I'd heard from him since we arrived in Ghost Town, "I'm going to be completely honest with you." He ran his hand through his hair, his body still completely corporeal for the time being. "I really have no idea what just happened."
I turned my back to the three of them sitting on the floor and pushed my hands down even harder on my hips. I could feel the burn of my hands on my sides and I wanted to let go. I wanted to just swing my hands freely at my sides and let this all go, but I knew I couldn't. Not now. I needed to show Gasp that I meant business, that I wasn't just another pushover, and that I wasn't going to sit around and wait for more of his surprises.
"What do you mean, you have no idea what happened?" I asked. "How could you not know that would happen? You're our guide! You're supposed to be the expert here in Ghost Town. You're a Town Elder. How can you honestly think I would believe that you have no idea what just transpired?"
We'd just learned the word "transpired" a few weeks ago, in school, and it felt good to be able to use it in this situation. It made me feel strong and mature, like I knew what I was talking about and Gasp better shape up quick.
"Jimmy," Gasp said quickly as his eyes wrinkled tightly and his face began to gain a slight red tinge around his cheeks.
"Don't, Gasp. Don't even try it. I'm not--"
"Jimmy," said David sternly as he let go of Trex and jumped up from the floor. He crossed the room towards me and placed both hands on my shoulders. "I don't think he's lying."
"But he--"
"I think you should let this one go, Jimmy," he said and turned me just enough to look me in the eyes. "I know you're mad. I know you feel like we've been duped. I know how you feel, but I think we need to hear Gasp out. I think we need to listen to what he says."
David let go of my shoulders and stepped back, all without letting go of the virtual lock his eyes had on mine.
"And I think we need to do whatever we can to heed the message of the Oracle Essex. I think we need to do whatever we can to help Gasp and the people of Ghost Town."
"You do?" I asked him sincerely, keeping my eyes beamed into his. "You don't think it's all some big joke?"
"I think it's probably the only way we're going to get home again, Jimmy."
David was right. I knew, before he even said it, that he was right. He was usually right, but this time he was especially right. Not only did I want to have that chance, albeit an incredibly slim one, that I might see my mother again, but there was no way we were going to find our way out of Ghost Town and back home on our own.
Hell, I don't even think I could find my way out of this crazy ghost hotel without Gasp's help.
It was time to swallow the pride I'd just welled up inside of me for this very occasion. I had my moment and now it was time to get back to being the Jimmy Stone I've been my whole life. Not the running-and-hiding-in-the-bathroom-stall Jimmy, but not the
yelling-at-Gasp-to-try-and-intimidate-him Jimmy either.
"You're right, David," I said just loud enough for him to hear but no one else. "You're always right, man."
David smiled briefly and walked back across the room to his seat on the floor next to Trex. He didn't say anything about being right (that's not his style), but he knew he was too. I'm not that dumb.
"I'm sorry, Gasp. I didn't mean to--"
"That's quite alright, Jimmy." Gasp slowly moved from the floor and began to morph out of the solid body he'd been in and back into the floating ghost we'd become used to. "I know how people can get when they're scared. I know what it's like to be surprised. I know how it feels to lose control and have no idea what's going on."
I stood in front of Gasp, hanging my head just long enough to show him that I was truly sorry and that I knew I was in the wrong for what I'd said and done.
"I spent a lot of my time in your world feeling those things, Jimmy. Fear, surprise, and confusion. But that was a long time ago and, since I've been in Ghost Town, I haven't had to feel them. Ever."
"That is," he said, "until just a few moments ago when the Oracle Essex appeared and delivered her message." Gasp's expression became one of deadly seriousness and I knew he truly meant what he was telling us now. This was not something that Gasp was prepared for and it was clearly something that scared him almost as much as it did us.
"I'd always heard stories," he continued, "about the various Oracles and what they do. I'd heard stories from some of the other Elders about how they'd seen Oracles delivering messages of grave importance - often death prophecies. It was all doom and gloom and, to be quite honest, I never really believed they even existed. I mean, it's one thing to hear stories from your peers, but it's another to actually see something you'd heard so much about. I truly didn't think I'd ever see an Oracle."
"But why?" I tried desperately to ask. "Why would she come here to deliver this message? Why is it so important that we listen to what she says? Why me?"
Jimmy Stone's Ghost Town Page 8
