Pennies for the Ferryman - 01 (13 page)

I shrugged my shoulders and walked over to Elsbeth. I’d hoped the preachers were going to enlighten my mom, but instead it looked like that was my battle to fight. Reaching out, I touched Elsbeth.

“It’s about time you came over here! What if my grandmother needs something? How am I supposed to get through this?”

“Good question. I’m not really sure how it works. Maybe it’s like Vampires and I have to invite you in?”

She looked indignant
. “That’s stupid. Vampires don’t exist!”

“I find that rather ironic coming from a ghost,” I said. At least there was some humor to be found in my life. “Let’s not be so close-minded, shall we? Elsbeth Melissa Snowden, I invite you onto the grounds.”

She tried the barrier and it didn’t work. I stepped back inside the barrier and tried it again – with the same result. Impulsively, I just reached out, grabbed her wrist and pulled her across. The contact was more painful than usual, but it worked.

“That hurt!”
the dead woman cried out,
“it was like being shocked.”

“Well that’s what I get to feel during all our conversations, so quit your complaining. See if you can walk out and walk back in.”

Though I let go of her hand, I could tell she was muttering some rather unladylike words as she crossed back and forth across the barrier. It was still painful to her and if it hadn’t been for the slight shimmer as she stepped onto the property, I would have been worried that we destroyed the barrier. I added that to my list of “things I now know about ghosts.” If you make protections, you have to escort any “Caspers” across the barrier. “Caspers?” you ask? Why, friendly ghosts, of course.

“Looks like we have ourselves a winner,” I declared. “Thanks for your help Elsbeth; I’ll be by to do your grandma’s grocery shopping tomorrow.”

The ghost nodded and faded away. She wasn’t anchored to her grave, but rather to her wedding band which was now hanging from a delicate chain around her grandmother’s neck. At least it made her return trip much quicker.

“Thank you for coming out Brother Silas.”

“Oh, don’t thank me yet, you see, Reggie and I have a favor to ask of you.”

As usual, alarm bells rang in my head. Cautiously, I asked, “And just what do you and Pastor Duncan want?”

The old man picked up on my guarded tone, “It’s not much, but from time to time, other pastors call us -- when they’ve run into a bit of trouble, you see. Over the years, I’ve acquired a certain reputation for helping out people with unexplainable problems.”

Not being an idiot, I could see where this was headed. “So, exorcism really works?”

Brother Silas laughed. “Young man, it’s called Ebenezer Church of
Dee-liverance
for a reason, don’t you know. Most times when I’ve gone to someone’s house, it’s been nothing. On those few times that I’ve encountered something, blessing the house works most of the time.”

“And what did you do when it didn’t?”

“Well, unlike you I can’t touch a spirit and I can’t talk to them. So, if I can’t get rid of them through prayer and blessing, I flat out told the living that they should move. You on the other hand have a gift from the Creator that is much more effective. You can actually speak to these spirits and, if necessary, forcefully evict them.”

Favors didn’t pay my bills, but I owed Brother Silas and Pastor Duncan, if for no other reason than the fact that both of them didn’t think that I was nuts. They were fairly up front with me and Silas blessed the house before asking me for my help. The scheming part of me also realized that it wouldn’t hurt that I could use them as referrals for paying clients. “As long as it’s not going to interfere with my schoolwork, I’ll be happy to help.”

Silas smiled and actually looked
at
me for a change. It’s a bit disconcerting being stared at by a blind man. After his injury and while Silas was doing rehab at the Maryland School for the Blind, he discovered that while he couldn’t see anything in the natural world, he
could
see things in the spiritual world – but not as sharply as I could see them. He’d explained it as seeing little blobs of light in an otherwise dark room.

He could also see me, which was more than a little creepy. “I figured you would, Mike. Reggie’s inside telling your mother that we plan to take you out occasionally and let you do some volunteer work, build up your moral fiber and all that jazz.”

Making a joke, I replied, “I’m not so certain I need fiber in my diet. Isn’t that for old folks?”

The tall, black man roared with laughter. “You just keep saying that, young man! One day you’ll wake up and smell the Metamucil, just like the rest of us!”

Mom left for work shortly after Pastor Duncan and Brother Silas departed. She seemed rather pleased with my new involvement with her pastor. I’m sure Mom thought that this would lead me back to church. Hopefully Pastor Duncan would be around when her bubble burst and she found out that they’re not really trying to help me cope with my delusions. Must be that ‘moral fiber’ garbage Silas was shoveling.

My evening was booked solid. In other words, I’d scheduled a nice long ride on a beat up old stationary bike that Pastor Duncan and the folks at the church refurbished when I was first discharged from the Army. It was a nice gesture to help with my rehab that I failed to initially appreciate.

Riding a bicycle to nowhere was boring, so I plugged a tape into the VCR. On the TV, I was watching the poorly filmed exploits of Darren Porter and his sidekicks, The Eye of Horus. They were investigating a spiritual disturbance in a Harrisburg cemetery. I kept a notepad and a pen handy to jot down anything useful that they might say. So far it was blank. Mostly, I kept an eye out for Karla Thompson, Darren’s girlfriend. She was certainly pretty enough. It was easy to see that the cameraman enjoyed following her around too. I wondered how much of the footage that wasn’t used was simply her backside in motion.

Karla sported long reddish brown hair and blue eyes. Her build was that of a model, tall and lean. She also had quite the set of lungs on her and was the group’s resident screamer, guaranteed to raise the octaves at least once every episode. Some members of the team, including Darren, seemed to enjoy pulling an occasional prank on Karla, which was certain to produce more angry shrieks.

I was stalking her, not in a creepy sense, but more in a literal sense. Darren told me to find her and that she had his notes and research material. Unfortunately, she dropped off the face of the Earth, so to speak, or at least she was beyond
my
limited resources. I sure hoped whatever he left with her was useful.

In the past few weeks, I’d taken my workouts very seriously. Getting my ass handed to me by Charlie Snowden was a wakeup call. I planned, when I got enough spare cash, on signing up for some martial arts lessons. No sense in waiting for someone to show up with a haunted dojo or something. Lacking anyone to teach me, I went back through the drills from my wrestling days and practiced the moves the Army taught me for unarmed combat.

Now, nice and limber, after having kicked an imaginary Bruce Lee’s hind side, I began to wonder if I could find a dead martial arts master to teach me. I dismissed this and went to my battered old set of free weights. Mom bought them for me when I made the wrestling team, years ago when I was a long-haired civilian. They hadn’t been out of my closet since I got my diploma. Lifting was just as tedious as riding the bike; I never really liked it. I was finishing my last set of reps and preparing to cool down on the bike when the doorbell rang.

Cutting off the TV, I went to answer the door. It was too late in the day for the bible thumpers or the usual salesperson ignoring the “No Solicitation” sign. Mom’s friends knew where she was Saturday nights, so I was curious. My poker buddies weren’t likely to bother me on the weekend either.

I opened the door and found a rather attractive blonde wearing a leather jacket.

“Oh sugar, don’t say anything for a second, I just want to stare at you – standin’ there lookin’ all hot and sweaty like.”

Without her uniform and with a new haircut, I almost hadn’t recognized her. The moment she spoke, it all clicked: Candy as in “sweet and easy to get.”

“Hello, Officer McKenna,” I said warmly. “What’s a nice lady like you doing in the ‘burbs on a cold day like this.”

I recalled she preferred to be called Candace nowadays as she laughed, probably at the “nice lady” comment and continued to eye me up and down. I was only in shorts and a T-shirt and Candy was clearly enjoying the view. “Well sweetness, if ya invite me in. I reckon that I can tell ya.”

Her “country gal” accent was cute and I decided to let the Roanoke County Deputy into my humble home, shutting the door after her. Other than the clutter of my work-out equipment in the living room, Mom and I kept a pretty neat place. I offered her a drink and she declined, but she asked to use the restroom after her long trip.

The intrigue built. Why she drove all the way from western Virginia to see me, I couldn’t say. Last time I saw her, she slid her card into my hand, the card with her cell phone number written on the back -- in case I was ever down her way again. Candy, Jenny Goodman’s cousin, was anything but subtle.

I hadn’t thought of Jenny in a while. She’d been avoiding me like I had killed her mother or something! Well, come to think of it, that was a bad comparison, as I
had
sort of gotten rid of her ghost of a mom. Jenny’s paternal aunt, who works in admissions at Montgomery College, pulled a few strings and even after the deadline for switching classes, Jenny moved out of the one class we shared. After that, I tried to approach her once or twice and gotten her best “I’m sorry but this is for the best” routine, before I got the message – she didn’t want to see me anymore. Having hauled the ghostly trash out of her life, I was no longer worth her time.

The crappy part of the deal was I’d still have to see her uncle, Detective Wycheck, since he was running the Charlie Snowden investigation. If there was a choice, I’d much rather eliminate her uncle from my life; I missed Jenny, just a bit.

I pushed that out of my mind as the very friendly, very female police officer who
wasn’t
avoiding me exited my bathroom. “I like your place.”

She was just trying to be polite. If she couldn’t pick up on the fact the house was my mom’s, I feared for the citizens of Roanoke County.

“So, you were about to tell me what brings you up here on a Saturday?”

“All business, aren’tcha?”

“Well it is nice to see you, Candace, but I’m more than a little curious.”

“Well I suppose we can visit after I do my
official
business.” Clearing her throat she reached into her purse and removed an envelope. “On behalf of the Roanoke County Sheriff’s Department and the Commonwealth of Virginia, I would like to present you with this here letter of ‘preciation and a check for one thousand dollars for your aid and assistance in solving a certain ‘missing persons’ case. It would’ve been only five hundred, but we found out his family had chipped in another five hundred – so blah, blah, thanks for everything and here ya go.”

I didn’t know how most people lived, but it wasn’t every day that a pretty woman shows up at the Ross household and hands out a check. I probably had a stupid expression on my face, and I’m sure that’s when my normal disdain for the police warmed, just a little. Mr. “Cool Under Pressure” ended up giving Candy a big old sweaty hug.

A few seconds later, the awkwardness set in and I backed off. She smiled at me. “I knew that would be better than just dropping it off in the mail! So, what’re ya gonna do with it?”

It’d take care of that pesky transmission problem on Mom’s car. “I guess most of it will go to bills.”

Candy made a “pooh-pooh” face.
 
“That doesn’t sound like much fun. Going to have enough left over to treat my cuz to a nice dinner?”

The plot was stirring, or maybe simmering – I never was much on metaphors, “Jenny and I aren’t really talking much anymore, and we never were dating.”

The woman in front of me didn’t look surprised; rather she looked a bit amused. “Do tell; why on Earth not?”