by Amy Cross
“I told you to have a little faith,” her friend mutters. “Am I or am I not the greatest ghost-hunter in this entire country?”
With that, he slips past her and clambers down the steps into the boat, and she quickly follows.
“Hey!” I yell. “Stop right now! That's my home, you're not allowed to just go storming in like that!”
“They can't hear you,” Angela says, coming up behind me. “Don't you get it? We're ghosts, they don't know we're here. I don't even know how they can be on the boat, but I guess the rules are a little muddied. They're just a pair of ghost-hunters, like I thought I was. But I guess they must be real.”
“This is an outrage!” I hiss, hurrying closer and then climbing onto the boat. “I will not have two strangers rummaging about in my boat! I don't care what the hell they think is going on here!” Making my way down the steps, I reach the kitchen just in time to see the two intruders making their way past the bathroom door, still swinging their torches around the boat's dark interior.
Reaching past the window, I flick the switch on the wall and the lights quickly flicker to life.
“Woah!” the girl says, as she and her companion turn and look this way. “How did that happen?”
“I turned the damn things on!” I hiss, stepping toward them. “And now I'm telling you to get the hell off my boat!”
“There's a switch over there,” the guy says, pointing past me, “but... Maybe it's just a bit loose, that's all. It might just randomly turn itself on and off.”
“You don't seriously believe that, do you?” the girl asks, turning to him. “Seriously, Gary?”
“It's not proof of anything,” he replies, lowering his torch and then turning it off. “This hunk of junk looks pretty old, I wouldn't be surprised if everything's kinda screwy.”
“Hunk of junk?” I stammer, taking a step closer to them. “How about you get the hell off my boat, eh? Go on, bugger off!”
Completely ignoring me, they turn and make their way further toward the bow, while excitedly discussing the light switch.
“They can't hear you.”
Turning, I see that Angela is coming down the steps and into the kitchen.
“You're not an idiot,” she continues. “Robert, they can't see or hear us, they're not aware that we're here. To them, this is just an old, abandoned canal boat. They've probably read the same stories that were in that book I had with me. This stretch of the canal must be pretty popular with ghost-hunters, I'm sure there are plenty of stories.” She pauses. “We're probably two of those stories. We're probably what they're looking for.”
“You can't expect me to believe that!” I hiss. “This is my home! None of this makes a lick of sense!”
“I've got to admit,” she replies, “it's taking a while for me to get my head around it.”
Hearing the two idiots still talking excitedly, I turn and look toward the bow of the boat. After a moment, I realize they've made it all the way to my goddamn bedroom, so I hurry after them and see that they're rooting through the drawers of my little dresser.
“That's private property!” I shout. “Get your filthy hands off my stuff right now!”
“So maybe this place just belongs to some random old dude,” the girl says with a grin, holding up some of my socks. “Maybe we're actually just, like, breaking and entering someone's home!”
“No way,” the man replies. “You saw the registration number on the side of the boat, didn't you? This is Robert Ward's boat, there's no doubt about it. It's usually not spotted in this area, but people've seen it over the years on various parts of the canal, so I guess it just keeps moving about. We have to document the shit out of this thing and make sure we've got real proof that people can't ignore.”
He holds up a camera and starts taking photos.
“We should call someone,” the girl mutters, removing a set of papers from her pocket and unfolding them, taking a look at the text. “Can you believe how crazy this is? We came down here to look for the ghost of Amanda Bates, and we ended up finding Robert Ward's goddamn canal boat!”
“This is brilliant,” he replies with a grin.
“You shouldn't laugh about it,” she tells him. “You shouldn't laugh about dark things. It's not right.”
“I have to let the guys know,” the man replies, suddenly hurrying past me as if he hasn't even noticed that I'm here. “I'm going back up to the bridge so I can get some signal!”
“Wait for me!”
Before I can say a word, the girl rushes past too, bumping into the wall as she goes.
“Careful!” I call out, hurrying after her. “This is my home, for God's sake!”
“You have to stay here,” the guy is explaining as I reach them. They're clambering back up onto the rear deck, and Angela is watching from the seat next to the steering arm.
“No way!” the girl hisses. “Are you high?”
“I'll be two minutes, tops!” he continues, jumping off the boat and onto the towpath. “If we both go, the boat won't be here when we get back. You know that's how it works! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Heather!”
“There is no way I'm staying here alone on a haunted boat,” she replies, before following him to the towpath. “Gary, get real for a moment! I'm coming with you!”
“This is why I used to work alone when I was looking for ghosts,” Angela mutters under her breath, as we watch them bickering in the darkness. “Other people are just too much hassle. I always hated having to explain why I was right.”
“Why can't they see us?” I ask.
“Go figure. Maybe 'cause we're ghosts. I don't know, there's got to be some kind of rule. I'm sure we'll figure it out eventually.”
“I'm just going to get out of here,” I say with a sigh. “I've had enough of this madness, I'll take the boat a couple of miles further along and find somewhere else to moor up.”
“That might actually be a good idea,” Angela replies. “The only problem is -”
Suddenly the girl climbs back onto the boat, swinging her torch around and almost blinding me.
“You're an asshole!” she calls back to the guy. “You'd better be quick, okay? I'm not spending more than two goddamn minutes on this boat without you!”
“Chill!” he calls back, already disappearing into the darkness, heading toward the bridge. “This is the discovery of the century, Heather! We're gonna be, like, rich and famous after this!”
“Yeah, right,” she says with a groan, climbing back into the kitchen. “Like this is really Robert Ward's boat, anyway. It's probably just some random weirdo who left it unattended for a few nights.” She turns and leans back out. “You owe me for this!” she yells. “Do you hear me, Gary? You owe me an actual night out, just the two of us, and no ghost-hunting! Do you hear?”
The man shouts something back from the distance, but it's impossible to make his words out.
Muttering under her breath, the girl stomps back into the kitchen and slumps down on the sofa. Angela and I watch as she slouches and folds her arms across her chest, almost as if she's sulking, but a moment later she glances at the backpack. After a few seconds' contemplation, she reaches over and pulls the backpack closer.
“That's mine!” Angela says angrily, hurrying down the steps but stopping to watch as the girl opens the top and pulls out some books.
“She can't see us,” I point out. “Remember? Listen, let's just shift her off my boat so I can get underway again.”
“Bad luck,” Angela replies. “Her boyfriend's bringing reinforcements. Once they get here, your precious boat's gonna be overrun by assholes.”
“I will not allow that!” I say firmly.
“Then we need to get creative,” she replies, reaching past me and flicking the switch on the wall, plunging the boat's interior into darkness.
“What the hell?” the girl stammers, sounding shocked.
“Prepare to get haunted, bitch,” Angela says firmly.
A moment later, the
girl finds the switch and hits it again, bringing the light back. She glances around cautiously, although she clearly can't see us, and finally she heads back to the sofa.
Angela immediately reaches out and turns the light off again.
“What the -”
In the darkness, I can just about hear the girl fumbling for something. A moment later, her torch is switched on and she shines the beam toward us before casting it all around the room, as if she's looking for someone.
“Gary?” she calls out. “Is this your idea of a joke?”
She waits.
I turn to Angela and see fierce determination in her eyes as she watches the girl.
“Great,” the girl mutters, setting her torch on the table and then coming back over to find the switch. “Just what I needed, a haunted light-bulb. Can tonight possibly get any suckier?”
“This is ridiculous,” I say with a sigh. “We just have to -”
Before I can finish, Angela steps over to the table and pushes the torch, sending it rolling off the edge until it crashes down to the floor. As it lands, there's a loud cracking sound and the light dies.
“What the actual...”
The girl flicks the main light on again and then heads back over to the table. Crouching down, she picks the torch up and gives it a shake, before fiddling with the battery housing in an attempt to get the damn thing working again. She mutters under her breath, and it's clear that she knows the torch is already beyond repair.
“Oh no,” Angela mutters sourly, “what a shame.”
With that, she flicks the switch on the wall once more, plunging the cabin back into darkness.
“Well this is fun,” the girl says, fumbling her way over toward us. She flicks the switch again, but Angela immediately flicks it off again.
The girl sighs.
This time, Angela starts hitting the switch over and over again, turning the light on and off several times.
“What the hell?” the girl stammers as the lights continue to flicker. After a moment, she takes a step back and bumps against the sideboard. “Gary, is that you? Craig? This isn't funny, guys! Are you really this goddamn immature! Come back and fix the lights now!”
She waits.
Still, Angela is flicking the lights on and off.
Silence.
“You owe me for a new torch, assholes!” she hisses, before hurrying past us and back out of the boat. “I'm out of here!”
I turn to Angela, and she simply shrugs before leaving the lights off and following. Figuring that I should at least find out what's going to happen next, I climb out after them, just in time to see the girl jumping off onto the towpath and Angela doing the same a moment later.
“Gary!” the girl yells, cupping her hands around her mouth as she looks out into the darkness. She sounds scared now, even if she clearly doesn't want to admit that anything's wrong. “Can you please get your ass back here? The goddamn lights on this boat are freaking me the hell out!”
She waits.
No reply.
“Gary!”
“She still doesn't get it, does she?” Angela mutters under her breath. “I think she might be a few sandwiches short of a picnic. She's dating an asshole.”
“Great,” the girl says with a sigh, turning and trudging back this way, “just when -”
She stops suddenly, staring straight at me. A moment later, she turns and looks at Angela.
“Who...”
She takes a step back.
“Who the hell are you?”
“You can see us?” Angela asks.
“Who are you?” the girl stammers. “I'm not alone! My boyfriend's real close, he'll come running if I scream.”
“We're just two lost souls out on the towpath at night,” Angela replies, taking a step toward her. “This is my friend Robert, and my name is Angela, or maybe you've heard of me by my other name. Amanda.”
“What?” the girl asks. “I can barely even see you, who -”
Her voice stops abruptly. In the darkness, I can just about make out her wild, staring eyes, and she starts to back away as Angela steps closer.
“My name is Amanda Bates,” Angela continues, “or Angela, I'm not entirely sure. But either way, this gentleman here is Robert Ward, and you just broke into his boat. Do you realize how immensely annoyed he is about that?”
“No,” the girl gasps, “you... You can't be Amanda Bates, Amanda Bates drowned years ago...”
“Yeah, well... about that.” Angela pauses, before stepping right up close to her and leaning toward her ear. “Do you wanna hear something really cool?”
I don't hear the next part, as Angela whispers something, but the girl's eyes become even wider as she stares straight at me. I've seen scared people before, but never anyone who looks as if they're about to collapse. The girl even starts trembling for a moment, as if fear has gripped her whole body, and Angela continues to whisper for a few more seconds before finally stepping back with a smile.
“What did you say to her?” I ask.
No reply.
“What did you say?” I continue, stepping closer. “What -”
Before I can finish, the girl suddenly lets out a shrill, ear-piercing scream. In the process, she turns and runs, stumbling through the mud as she races into the darkness.
“Gary!” she screeches. “Gary, I saw them! Gary!”
“What did you say to her?” I ask, shocked as I hear the girl still crying out for her boyfriend as she gets further and further away.
“I told her to leave your boat alone,” Angela replies, turning to me with a faint smile. “Well, not in so many words, but that was the gist of it. I just tried to sound really scary. I don't think she'll ever dare come back out here, but we probably shouldn't tempt fate. Maybe it's about time you took your boat a little further along the canal.”
I open my mouth to tell her I agree, but for a moment I simply stand and listen to the girl's screaming voice getting further and further away.
“This is crazy,” I mutter, turning back to look at the boat.
“Tell me about it.”
“It can't be true,” I continue. “If something had happened to me, I'd know. I'd...”
“Haven't you had any dreams? Or things that feel like dreams?”
I turn to tell her about the one dream I remember, but suddenly I see another flashlight coming this way.
“Gary, don't!” a voice yells in the distance. “I'm telling you, I saw them!”
A moment later, this Gary individual returns, grinning from ear to ear as he shines his light toward the boat.
“Get out of here!” Angela says firmly.
The guy simply steps past us.
“He can't see us,” she continues. “Great. I was hoping this would be easy.”
Before I can say anything, she steps back to the boat and grabs the water hose, pulling it onto the towpath and then holding it up in the moonlight.
“What the hell?” Gary stammers, freezing for a moment, before Angela starts walking toward him.
“Can you see this?” she asks.
He pauses for a few seconds, before turning and running back along the towpath, dropping his flashlight in the process. As he gets further and further away, he can just about be heard shouting, and then the girl starts shouting too. Finally, it's clear that they're running away.
“I've got to admit,” Angela says with a smile, still holding the pipe, “that I quite enjoyed doing that.”
Seven
“Here you go!”
A few minutes later, once I've started the boat's engine, Angela pulls the second rope free and tosses it to me from the towpath. Grabbing the rope, I immediately start wrapping it into a coil as the boat slowly starts edging further out toward the center of the canal.
“Are you sure you don't want to come with me?” I ask. “I could give you a lift.”
“Thanks,” she replies, “but I think this area might be my patch. I should probably stick to familiar ground.
Besides, if that girl and her boyfriend come back, I've got a few ideas about how I can really scare them off for good.”
“But then what?” I continue. “You can't just spend all your nights wandering between the cemetery and the canal.”
“Can't I? I think that's what I've been doing for the past fifteen years or so.”
“Still, you -”
“And you've just been motoring along the canals for a lot longer.”
I open my mouth to argue with her, but I guess she has a point.
Reaching down, she picks up her backpack and hauls it over her shoulder. She winces slightly, and I can tell from her slightly hunched posture that the pack is weighing her down.
“Maybe you'll swing back this way some day,” she continues. “We might bump into one another again.”
“I suppose we might,” I tell her.
“If we remember,” she adds.
“I'm sorry?”
“I was just thinking, maybe ghosts don't really form new memories.” She pauses, with a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Maybe tomorrow night, we'll both go back to not knowing what we are. You'll think you're just floating along the canals, and I'll think I'm just ghost-hunting.”
“You should try to go home,” I reply.
“I think I'm stuck here.”
“Then take the offer of a ride and -”
“You're too far out now.”
I reach out to grab the steering arm. “I can bring her back closer to the towpath, and then -”
“No, you're good,” she adds, clearly not wanting to take me up on the offer. Now that I'm so far from the riverbank, in fact, she's a little hard to make out. “Good luck out there,” she continues. “On the off-chance that we remember this night, I'll think of you. It was fun scaring those two idiots. I wish I could see their faces when they realize they took some photos and then they accidentally left the camera on the boat. I don't know, maybe there's some hidden rule that means evidence always gets lost. Maybe ghosts aren't supposed to meet, but...”
She pauses.
“But I'm glad we did,” she continues finally.
“Me too,” I reply, and now I can't really see her at all.
