by Lotta Smith
“For your information, I have a different opinion regarding your treatment from that of hers, and I’m eager to get rid of you immediately.” Arms crossed in front of his chest, Rick threatened the ghost of the ring.
“Get rid of me if you can!” Marion glared at him, stomping her feet, except Rick couldn’t see her in the first place.
“So, Marion, you told us yesterday that you, too, were killed by the ring. I doubt you’re an active participant who’s been delivering the ring’s curse,” I said.
“You don’t understand. The ring’s curse is tremendously powerful,” Marion insisted, blinking rapidly. After that, she fell silent, completely clamming up.
“She’s not talking,” I said to Rick.
“Hmm… perhaps we can try soaking the ring in a glass of water,” he said casually.
“You can try, but it won’t work,” Brian interjected. “Not to mention, an attempt to damage this ring will most likely backfire.”
“Ha. That’s why I brought you here, to have the curse backfired to the ring,” Rick retorted.
Ignoring him, Brian turned to Marion. “I feel the grudge and resentment from the ring. Many women suffered untimely demises soon after having it in their possession. It’s filled with aggregated curses made from the dead women’s fury and jealousy directed at happy families.”
Marion shut her eyes tightly, looking like she was forcing herself not to cry.
“On the other hand, you’re not caught in your own spite, are you Marion?” Brian went on. “You’re not jealous when you see a happy family, are you? I’m guessing you were sensitive to spiritual things when you were alive, and the ring enslaved you after your death, am I correct?”
Marion kept her eyes closed for several seconds; then she opened them and admitted in a small voice, “Yes. I’ve been working for the ring… but I can’t disclose many details about it.”
“Did you hear that, Mandy?” Brian looked at me, prompting me to nod. “This girl couldn’t go to a better place, or join the circus of the curse. She’s been trapped and forced to work for the ring.”
“For over a hundred years?” I gasped, startled. Considering the track record of my relationship with paranormal things, I wouldn’t have been surprised if the ring had swept me away and forced me into working as its subordinate. Good thing I didn’t put it on. At the same time, I recalled how excited and overjoyed the girl ghost seemed to be. If I were the one who’d been enslaved by the evil ring for a hundred-plus years, I’d definitely want to enjoy everything, including food, while I was taking over someone else’s body. “I’m so sorry, Marion,” I muttered.
Marion raised her chin and turned her face away from us. “No need for sympathy.” She took a deep breath, then turned back to us. “Besides, I’ve never lied to you. It just happens to be that there are certain things I cannot disclose to you.”
I saw desperate courage in her eyes, as if she had prepared herself for some severe punishment.
“I understand your situation, and I believe you,” I said.
As Marion’s face softened following my reply, Brian wrinkled his forehead and Rick’s jaw clenched. According to them, I tended to be too soft on dead people.
“Mandy, don’t let your guard down so easily,” Rick warned me.
I nodded to him and turned to Marion. “So far, many things have happened today, starting with a signboard almost smashing us and an SUV crashing and barely missing us.”
“You can thank me for the fact that you’re still breathing,” Rick chimed in, muttering.
I cleared my throat, ignoring him. “So, Marion, did you cause those incidents? Perhaps in an attempt to kill me?”
“No.” Marion shook her head. “I don’t have such power to move heavy objects. All I did was imitate the voices of Jackie and Rick.” She looked around, perhaps anticipating the ghost of a drag queen to jump into the conversation.
“Jackie isn’t here, and she won’t attend this meeting,” I informed Marion. Although Jackie was on somewhat friendly terms with Brian, she was cautious about not getting too near to the exorcist. She was afraid of being exorcised as collateral.
“Anyway, all the havoc was caused solely by the ring. My job was luring you to the locations where the objects would have dropped,” Marion concluded.
“Why did the ring try to kill me?” I asked.
“Sometimes it targets the loved ones of its owner.”
“We’ve already heard about that,” Rick interjected after I related her words.
Marion was furrowing her eyebrows, her lips forming a tight, straight line.
The ring was trying to kill its owner’s loved ones, but I wasn’t a loved one. Then it hit me.
“You mean I’m not the ring’s target to kill?” I asked.
Marion kept her silence, her ghostly face turning even paler. Presumably, that topic was untouchable.
“If so, who’s the ring’s current target? Alice’s loved ones?”
“I don’t think so. She’s not the owner after all.” Rick frowned. “Besides, the purpose of the mayhem seemed more like a distraction to interfere with the task of finding Mrs. Miller’s address.”
As he said that, Marion’s blue eyes widened.
Suppressing the urge to exclaim, “Bingo!” I said to Marion, “He’s right. You were indeed doing your best to distract us, right?”
Marion’s whole body was visibly shaking, and I was certain we were getting close to the truth.
“Mrs. Miller?” Agent Woo rubbed his jaw as Brian relayed my conversation with the ghost. “Does that mean the ring knows we’re just temporarily keeping it, and its owner is still Mrs. Miller? Then again, the owner is in the hospital, and distracting the investigation has no effect to Mrs. Miller’s condition. If the ring’s really targeting her, it’d better cause some glitches with the medical devices at the hospital or dupe the nurse or doctor into administering the wrong drugs.”
“Agent Woo, you said no one has filed a missing person report on Mrs. Miller, right?” Rick said.
“Right.” Agent Woo nodded. “It’s strange, unless the woman allegedly called Mrs. Miller left her home of her own will. Had she actually lived with her husband, he should have already reported his wife missing.”
“The ring brings its curse to its owner,” I muttered, shaking my head. “The curse doesn’t necessarily kill its owner. Sometimes it kills its owner’s loved ones. Why can’t anything be simple?”
“What if Mr. Miller couldn’t report her missing? Suppose he had some kind of accident and can’t move around to report it? Perhaps Mr. Miller might be the one needing help more desperately rather than Mrs. Miller.”
“Hmm… that seems to make sense,” Agent Woo commented. “If the ring’s real target was Mr. Miller, then meddling with the investigation seems to work for the ring’s purpose.”
“Still, I’m not quite convinced about the part with the ring letting Marion tour the Upper East Side. If the ring’s intention was to keep us from thinking about Mr. Miller, taking us to the Upper East Side could have backfired. We could have accidentally located the Millers’ residence.” Rick turned to me. “Mandy, ask Marion’s opinion about my theory,” he urged me.
“Marion, you heard his words. Can you answer—”
Marion didn’t say anything, but as her lips quivered, fat tears rolled down her cheeks. It didn’t take long for the girl’s tears to form a stream.
“Marion?” I tried to come up with something sensible to tell the crying ghost, but nothing came out. When I was in med school, I had lectures on dealing with a crying patient, but obviously I wasn’t really paying attention in that class.
While I opened and closed my mouth like a suffocating goldfish, Marion wailed. “I’m so sorry! I… just wanted to… take a walk in Manhattan,” she said between hiccups. “At first, all I wanted to do was observe the city, but then the lady tried the ring on her finger and I was able to control her body. I enjoyed having a body after waiting for a hundred-plus y
ears and actually eating the food… but I put you and Rick in danger.”
“At least you enjoyed food,” Brian muttered to the openly sobbing ghost. “That’s a rare perk for a dead person.”
“Brian… you’re so right about the ring,” Marion went on. “This ring is haunted by the women who suffered untimely, tragic deaths. Their fury, remorse, and desperation to cling to the world of the living aggregated into an uncontrollably powerful blasphemy.”
According to her, the curse started with a woman named Brigitte, the second owner of the ring. She was the wife of a very wealthy businessman, but she fell ill and died. When Brigitte was on her deathbed, her husband vowed never to have another wife following her death. However, he remarried just two weeks following Brigitte’s death, without the slightest clue of his deceased wife’s anger and resentment. To add fuel to the already blazing fire of Brigitte’s fury, the new wife gave birth to a baby boy six months after marriage, meaning Brigitte’s husband had been having a serious affair with the woman when he was making empty promises to Brigitte that she was his one and only. The sapphire and diamond ring that used to compliment the fair, smooth skin of her hand was handed down to the new wife. The ghost of Brigitte put a curse on the woman who stole her husband. At some point, the ghost had turned into an evil spirit, and her curse worked. Soon after having a baby boy, the new, young wife fell ill with severe fever, unexplained warts all over her body, and nonstop hallucinations until she passed away, her whole body purple and swollen, looking like a rotten eggplant.
“Looking like a rotten eggplant? Why does it sound like an infection?” Rick whispered into my ear while I relayed Marion’s words. I shushed him before he killed Marion’s motivation to cooperate with us.
“Since then, the ring has caused tragedies whenever it lands on happy couples and families.” Marion sighed. “It tends to despise happy women. Sometimes, the ring kills her husband or her children, perhaps to aggravate and maximize her agony. I’m so worried about Mr. Miller… because Mrs. Miller is so fond of him, and she’s been so caring. I think Mrs. Miller loves Mr. Miller more than life itself, so the ring is trying to kill him.”
“Thank you for confiding in me,” I said.
“Wow. Enslaving one of its victims, ordering her to distract you guys, all the while attempting to kill its owner’s husband? I’ve seen my share of stolen objects—some of which had reputation as being haunted—but I’ve never seen anything like this ring.” Agent Woo shook his head.
“So, the ring is powerful enough to knock over a signboard as large as an SUV. Why doesn’t it kill Mr. Miller on its own?” I knitted my eyebrows.
“To maximize the agony of its owner?” Brian suggested. “Anyway, you guys want to find Mr. Miller pronto. From the way it’s been meddling with your investigation, Mr. Miller should still be alive. Then again, it doesn’t necessarily mean he’s safe.”
“Okay.” Rick nodded. “We’ve got to find the building where Mr. Miller’s presumably trapped. But taking the ring out on the search isn’t an option. Aggravating the situation with potential collateral damage isn’t in our best interest.”
“So, the Millers live in a whitish building with an art gallery on the ground floor. Marion, is there anything else you can recall about the place?” I asked. “Like any other shops in the building?”
“Well….” She closed her eyes like she was trying to recall something. “Actually, there was this place on the fifth floor Mrs. Miller regularly visited, but I have no idea about it as she always removed the ring whenever she visited there.”
“Taking the ring off whenever she visits the place?” I parroted. “Is it a nail salon?”
“What is a nail salon?” The ghost tilted her head to the side.
“A nail salon is a place where they polish your fingernails,” I explained. “Did you see Mrs. Miller sporting newly painted nails after visiting there?”
“No. She never had her fingernails painted.”
“Was the skin of her fingers smoothed after visiting the fifth floor?” I tried to dig deeper, only to prompt Marion to shake her head again.
“How about a chiropractor?” Rick interjected. “They tend to ask their patients to remove watches and accessories.”
“Assuming from the information that Mrs. Miller has had bad knees, she might have had regular visits to a chiropractor,” Agent Woo said.
“Oh, now I remember,” Marion said perkily. “Mrs. Miller visited the fifth floor to meet Dr. Pinkstar. I’d been curious about what this Dr. Pinkstar would look like, but I’d completely forgotten about the doctor. Oh, silly me. I should have told you earlier, but somehow, my memory was blocked. Perhaps the ring has been meddling with my memory. I appreciate you suppressing its power. My head is feeling much clearer.” She smiled at Brian.
Before the exorcist had a chance to acknowledge the girl ghost, Rick looked at the computer screen and asked, “Dr. Pinkstar? The name’s Dr. Pinkstar—as in the color pink, and star as in a shining star?”
I glanced at Marion, who said, “I believe the person’s name is Dr. Pinkstar. I once saw Mrs. Miller picking up a birthday card decorated with pink stars, and she told the cashier that the card was for her doctor whose name is Dr. Pinkstar.” Nodding, she continued. “So, I’m very certain it’s Dr. Pinkstar.”
As I relayed her words, Rick exclaimed, “Holy shit. There’s only one chiropractor named Dr. Pinkstar on East 72nd, in the Upper East Side, and guess what? The office is located in the Carnegie Hill Condominiums. The exterior of the building is whitish and has a ground-floor art gallery.”
“Thank God we’ve finally located the building.” Agent Woo took out his phone and immediately made a call, asking the person on the other line to look for Mr. Miller in that building.
Thirty minutes later, Agent Woo’s phone beeped, announcing that Mr. Miller had been safely rescued from his bed. According to the agent, Mr. Miller was bedridden and couldn’t walk around on his own due to the aftereffects of a stroke. Unfortunately, Mrs. Miller happened to be his sole caretaker, and when she left the Millers’ residence in the middle of the night, the phone was nowhere within his reach. Luckily, Mr. Miller had several bottles of water by his bedside, so he was able to keep himself hydrated.
After Agent Woo explained what had happened to Mr. Miller, I gasped. “How long has he been in bed without food?” I counted the number of days since Mrs. Miller was found collapsed on the road. “Oh, five days! He must be starving.”
Agent Woo nodded. “Starving is an understatement. Actually, if he had been kept in that condition for another day, he’d be dead.”
Uncrossing his legs, Rick commented, “Hmm… that explains why he didn’t report his wife missing.”
“I’m so glad Mr. Miller was rescued safely.” Marion let out a small sigh, clutching her chest.
“So, you were indeed trying to kill Mr. Miller by starving him, right?” I glanced at Marion, whose lips quivered a little, as if she had something to say, but she kept her mouth shut.
“What are you going to do with the ring?” Brian said abruptly. “I’m presuming it will be returned to its owner, but I don’t recommend doing that. Considering the track record of this ring, if you give it back to its owner still haunted, it will keep on wreaking havoc on the Millers, and its next owner, and the next owners following them.”
“Mr. Powers, suppose you exorcise the ring. Will that enable Mandy here to try reading its recent history of robbery?” Agent Woo asked Brian.
I felt like muttering, “Eww,” but I restrained myself.
“The ring can be cleansed,” Brian assured, but then he lowered his voice. “But the problem is Marion. She’s tied to the ring’s complex spirits with extremely powerful force. Right now, she looks stable, but I’m not sure how she’d react to the news regarding her fate.” Then he turned to me. “Mandy, do you think you can persuade her?”
I opened my mouth and then shut it. And I groaned, “Uhh….”
Marion, on the other
hand, was looking around the office, appearing curious yet happy. She went so far as attempting to flirt with Rick, without much success, as his response was limited to the occasional brush of his hand—as if he was flapping at some bug or something.
Glancing at the girl ghost who was looking like a joyful teenager for the first time since I’d met her, I was reluctant to have her exorcised, especially when she seemed to be carefree for probably the first time in over a century. According to Brian, when a ghost is exorcised against its will, the spirit could be destroyed and diminish into dark nothing. I didn’t wish Marion to disappear like that.
“Hey, can’t you seal her or something, like you did a while ago? In that case, the ring’s evil spirit will be suppressed, right?”
“That’s possible for a while, but at some point the spirit might wake up. Also, even with the spirit sleeping, I can’t declare the ring safe in case anyone puts it on their finger.”
“But I can’t just tell her to—” I was whispering to Brian, but Marion cleared her throat by my side, prompting me to gasp.
“Hi, Mandy,” she said, smiling.
“Hi, Marion,” I replied, because I didn’t know what else to say.
“I just want to thank you for a wonderful time. Strolling the town was the most delightful highlight of my life after death. Also, thank you so very much for helping Mr. Miller. You know, I’ve seen way too many happy couples like Mr. and Mrs. Miller perish without help and… I’m so glad I met you. Hearing about Mr. Miller’s safe rescue, I think that dark, sticky thing that used to boil in me—what was the word… karma?—has been somewhat cleaned.” Marion’s blue eyes brightly shined as she spoke.
“Isn’t that… wonderful?” I tried to smile, but I wasn’t sure if my uncertainty showed in my face.
Still smiling, the ghost of the haunted ring went on. “By the way, I’m ready to be exorcised.”
“Excuse me?” Brian and I gasped simultaneously.
