Ghost Story Page 12

  He circles back to the pool noodle. “Why use that rather than your weapons?”

  I shrug. “He was too close to draw, cock, and aim. Knife versus holstered gun, even fists versus gun, at this range - the gun loses. I honestly forgot about the knife as I had the pistol. Plus, I didn’t want to shoot in a store because I didn’t know where other people were. Honestly, I was wishing I had my collapsible baton. The noodle was handy, unexpected, and was enough of a distraction that I could close with my attacker. I’ve got enough hand-to-hand experience that I was confident I could take him. I gotta tell you though, I got the impression I wasn’t the first person he attacked with a knife.”

  Officer Johnson taps his pen against his lips in thought with a hum for a moment. He looks over my shoulder, and I notice the police sergeant. His name tag says ‘Lewis.’ Officer Johnson says, “Tell me about Rebecca.”

  I shrug, “I found her wandering around my apartment building almost a week ago. She was not communicative. She was physically weak. As you can see, she is severely malnourished. She was only wearing a nightgown. I took her in. I fed her. I held her. Over time she has become much more communicative. She mentioned she was getting cabin fever, plus she has been wearing my clothes. She is so emaciated that they just hang off her. I thought she might like to have a few basics of her own that kind of fit.”

  He stares at me. I stare right back. He says, “How sure are you that she isn’t jailbait?”

  It’s my turn to smirk. “I’m not sure it matters at this point. I’ll be certain before it becomes an issue.”

  He continues to give me the hairy eyeball. “You better.”

  I nod, “Yes sir.” I wipe the smirk off my face.

  The sergeant growls, “You better figure it out sooner rather than later. She’s very attached to you.”

  I give him my serious look. “That’s lovely. I’m getting quite attached to her, too.”

  He just stares at me. I give it right back to him. I was adept at this game about the time this guy was a rookie. He finally looks at Officer Johnson. He says, “Officer Bird has wrapped up her interview with Ms. Silberschmid. Any reason to keep them around?”

  Officer Johnson says, “I think we should probably hold onto them until we finish the other interviews, Sargent. I haven’t heard back from Lopez or Brown, yet.”

  The sergeant says, “The blond claimed that he pushed her. Did you push her, Mr. James?”

  “I was about eight feet away from her when she fell, Sergeant Lewis.” It’s nice to be able to tell the truth. “I just walked past her while she was sprawled on the floor, picked up her phone, then helped her up. She left the video running the whole time. I didn’t turn it off until just before I placed the phones on the shelf.”

  The sergeant looks at Officer Johnson. “That lines up with what her friend said. Mrs. Martinez was unhappy that he nabbed her phone, but she didn’t raise a complaint. Anything else?”

  Officer Johnson shakes his head. “Nope. I’m good, Sergeant.” He extends the bag with my weapons towards me. “Here you go, Mr. James. We may need to ask you some more questions at a later time, but you are free to go. Leave them in the bag until you’re out of the parking lot, please. Thank you for your cooperation.”

  The sergeant adds, “And thank you for not firing your weapon in the store. I know it’s your constitutional right to keep and bear arms, but too many guys that carry aren’t nearly careful enough about what’s behind the target.”

  I snort. “Old habits learned clearing buildings in the sandbox,” I tell him. “Where is Rebecca?”

  “Over here, Will,” I hear her voice. She’s standing by the aisle with the clothing. Her shopping basket beside her.

  I nod to the two policemen, “Gentlemen.” Then I walk over to wrap Rebecca in a hug. “Are you doing okay, Rebecca?”

  She wraps her arms around me and nods her head into my chest. She looks up at me. “I’m ready to go home now. This was more excitement than I wanted.”

  I murmur into her ear. “Me too, Baby. Let’s pay for your clothes and go home. We only have about forty-five minutes before my meeting.”

  “Okay,” she agrees. She whispers in my ear. “I really want a kiss. As soon as we’re home, please ravage me.”

  I look down at her and wink. “Let’s go, Rebecca.”

  We go to the register, and the cashier walks up. We check out, and leave.

  15 - Another Surprise

  We head home by turning right on Sheldon and then left on Cortez. I point out the old Prescott Hotel building at 130 North Cortez. I notice it’s still for sale. “That building was also built in 1900. It’s been renovated a couple of times. I bet it would be a good investment to renovate and open as a hotel or apartment building.”

  She asks, “How much would it cost?”

  I shrug as I pull to a stop at the light on Gurley. “To buy it? Probably more than one million, less than two million.”

  “Dear Lord in Heaven! Who has that much money?” She asks.

  “Some people do,” I say. “I don’t, but if I could get an investor or two and a loan to cover the balance of the renovation, I could see it happening.”

  The light changes, and we drive past the courthouse.

  Rebecca says, “I can’t believe how much everything costs! How much did you pay for my clothes and things?”

  I answer, “It was only one hundred eleven dollars and change. I’m going to give Marissa a five or six hundred dollar budget for this afternoon.”

  “Oh! My! God! William, that is more than most people make in a year!” she exclaims.

  I’m feeling a little detached as I pull into an empty slot in front of the apartment building. “Baby, the average American annual income is a little over sixty thousand dollars. People below twenty thousand are considered to be living in poverty - there are a significant number of those. I make one hundred twenty thousand per year from my job. Last year, I made an additional sixty thousand from side jobs, and I have nearly made that much already this year.”

  I put the CRV in ‘park’ and turn it off. I stare straight ahead. “On the opposite side, the renovation of my house is going to cost me one hundred sixty thousand dollars. I pay the ex-wife five hundred each month - the same ex-wife I found having sex with two strange men in my house. The mortgage on my home is two thousand dollars each month. Rent for this apartment is nine hundred each month.”

  I get out of the car and walk around to open Rebecca’s door. I give her a hand out of the car. Then I go get her bag out of the back. I follow her to the door of the apartment. “Sweetheart, please hold the bag.” I open the door and wave her in. She steps inside, and I follow before locking us in.

  I ask, “Average wage when you were a girl was what? About one dollar per hour?”

  She shakes her head. I look at her as she says, “Ten cents.”

  I nod, “Okay. Ten cents per hour times ten hours a day?”

  “About.”

  “Six days each week?”

  “Yes,” she confirms.

  I chew my lip for a second. “Okay. Ten cents times sixty hours times fifty-one weeks per year - assuming a full week lost for holidays and illness. Does that sound about right?” She nods. “So...six dollars per week times fifty one weeks is...three hundred six dollars each year on average - ‘ish.’ Sound right?” She nods. “Figuring an average increase of cost of living and wages at three percent...ah crap. I don’t know. I would have to run a model, but that should come to a low poverty salary at current standards. I’m guessing twelve-to-fifteen thousand annually.”

  I look vacantly to the loveseat, still covered by a sheet. Rebecca places the bag on the floor and gently wraps me in a hug.

  Rebecca looks at me and turns my face to look at her. “Okay, Will. I understand that it was not a third of your income. It still sounds significant.”

  I nod, “It is significant, but you need clothes, toiletries, shoes. You’ll need more for winter.”

  She nods, “
I understand, Will. You appear upset. Is it from the killing?”

  I kiss her forehead. I finally look Rebecca in the eyes. “Honestly, I don’t feel bad for killing him. I think I should, but he was trying to kill me. I don’t feel bad about it. I killed an attacker one other time. I didn’t have the second sight at the time, but he was someone that I didn’t know, he had a similar expression as this guy today, and he tried to shoot me. I didn’t feel bad about that either. I killed people in the war, and I felt bad about killing most of them - a lot of them were just mis-guided youth. The zombie deaths leave me feeling - happy to be alive.”

  I wrap my arms around Rebecca. I tell her, “The thing that is really freaking me out is that I killed him by sucking the life out of him, then I sucked the death out of him, too. That is thoroughly blowing my mind. I don’t know what to do with that.”

  She places a hand on either side of my face to hold my attention. “Oh, my darling William. You have a huge amount of power, and you are completely ignorant about what that means. You have had no mentoring. No incremental curriculum. Just an apparently normal, loving man that gains power over life and death over the span of a week. But let me emphasize this, Will. You are a normal, loving, generous man. The craft itself doesn’t define you. If you stick to the values you have always had, then the craft becomes one more tool that you use to embody those values. From what I see, that means that you will help people using your craft.”

  I kiss her slowly, lovingly. I open my eyes and tell her. “Rebecca, I don’t deserve you, but know I treasure both your friendship and your love.” I give her another quick kiss. “I need to get on this video call.”

  She releases her embrace. “Do you have scissors? I want to get rid of those tags.”

  “The kitchen drawer,” I tell her as I sit down and log onto the video call. I drop the shutter on the camera. “Please do that in the bedroom, so they don’t see you in the background. I don’t want to raise any questions about ‘who is that’ if they see you in the camera.”

  Rebecca smiles at me with the scissors in one hand and the bag in the other. “Certainly, Will.” She marches off into the bedroom, and I lift the shutter and unmute my microphone to start my meeting.

  * * *

  After I finish the meeting, I let Rebecca know I’m done. She calls me to join her in the bedroom for a minute. When I arrive, she is standing there naked. She tells me she’s ‘hun-ree,’ so I feed her a quick snack. Then she feeds me one, too. Feeling fortified, I talk her into giving me a quick fashion show. She decides that the extra small panties are best for now, but she is hopeful she will need the bigger ones shortly. She likes the shorts, but doesn’t think she will ever wear them out in public - too risqué. The sweats and jersey t-shirt she is okay with despite the social norm for her time was that woman did not wear trousers. Standard t-shirts she thinks are as immodest as the shorts are - I guess the mid-forearm sleeve on the jersey makes a difference. The sneakers and socks fit well enough.

  After the fashion show is complete she strips them all off, and we put them into the washer. I show her how to put in detergent and a ‘color catcher’ to prevent color bleed between garments. Then Rebecca grabs my flannel shirt and starts buttoning it when we hear a knock on the door.

  I freak out and search around for the evidence bag with my weapons. ‘Shit! I left them in the car!’ I run to the kitchen and grab the chef’s knife. Then I run to the door.

  I call out, “Who is it?”

  “Will? It’s Marissa.” I quickly unlock the door and let her in. I grab my car keys off the end table and run outside to the truck to retrieve my weapons - still carrying the chef’s knife in my hand.

  I lock the door when I get back to the apartment, and then I turn to find Marissa staring at me like I’m completely unhinged. I sag against the door and try to steady my nerves.

  “Bad day?” Marissa asks.

  Rebecca and I both say “yes” in unison. Marissa slowly looks from Rebecca to me.

  She asks, “What happened?” Marissa is dressed in a light grey, summer-weight, silk business suit. Her wrap skirt reaches to mid-thigh, and she is wearing white stockings and four-inch grey heels.

  I drink in the sight of Marissa as I explain, “I took Rebecca out to Walgreens to get her some basic clothes. Panties, sweats, t-shirts. You know they don’t have much, but I figured it was better than nothing - I thought she might want to have her own clothes to wear when she goes out with you this afternoon. A guy in the store tried to kill me. I’m still a little spooked.”

  Marissa reaches a hand to Rebecca and pulls her along as she comes over to wrap me in a hug. Rebecca joins her.

  Marissa asks, “Are you okay? What happened to the guy?”

  I hug my two lovers to me. “He’s dead. I did some shit to him that has me freaked out. I really don’t want to talk about it right now.” I consider my words carefully. “Marissa, I need to introvert and process this a bit. I also need to get Rebecca a wardrobe. Can you help me with the latter part?”

  Marissa kisses me gently. “Of course, William my love. I planned to be here earlier, but I was on the phone having a row with Carla. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t worry, love. Did you and Carla get things ironed out? Are you okay?”

  Rebecca squeezes Marissa as she answers, “I’m done with her. I called my mom and asked her if I could move back home for a month or two while I get myself settled. She was ecstatic. I only have a handful of calls to make tomorrow - no visits scheduled. So, I’m going to pack all of my stuff out tomorrow. Carla isn’t due back until late tomorrow night. My mom and dad are coming to help. I have a storage unit with some furniture in it, and the few items I have at Carla’s will fit there easily.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know you were trying to make it work,” I tell her.

  She sighs sadly, “The signs have been there all along. I was just too stubborn to acknowledge them.” She looks at Rebecca. “So, Baby. We need to get you some clothes.” She smiles at the thought of taking Rebecca shopping.

  I tell her, “Just remember, Rebecca still has the sensibilities of a young woman of the late 1800’s. You will have to show her what is fashionable and coach her about social norms. It will take a while. Despite her willingness to be naked here at home, her choices are going to be prudish by modern standards.”

  Marissa kisses Rebecca’s cheek. “We’ll get started today, but we may need to spend all day Saturday getting you outfitted.”

  I add, “Assume she has nothing. The stuff we got today is basic stuff to lounge around the house. I’m thinking a budget of six hundred dollars.”

  Marissa laughs, “Oh, are you in for a surprise, William. Plan for at least one thousand.”

  I grimace, “Okay. I’ve got cash in my fire safe. I’ll give that to you. Do you have a weapon?”

  Marissa twists her lips and pulls out a flashlight. “It’s a taser contact weapon, plus the light beam is bright enough to be a weapon under certain circumstances. It also makes a good clubbing weapon.” I cock an eyebrow at her. She adds, “My dad is a Kenpo fifth-degree black belt. He says I would probably be a first degree black belt if he ever bothered to test me.”

  “Just be careful. This zombie thing has me spooked.”

  “Will!” Rebecca exclaims. She gives me the hairy eyeball.

  I tell Rebecca, “Honey, she needs to know. I love her. You love her. If we want her with us - and I do - then she needs to know what we’re dealing with. We need to be sure she’s able to deal with both the threats and the change in world view.”

  Rebecca kisses my cheek, “William, beloved Master, you are the only one in danger. With the binding you have on me, there is very little potential for danger to me.”

  “Regardless, Marissa needs to know. When I get the house move-in ready, I plan to offer her a place in our house. She needs to have information to make an informed decision…”

  Marissa places a finger on my lips. “If you want me, no one will ever sep
arate me from you again. Let me move back home and get my brain un-fucked. The timing should work out about right.”

  I agree, “Okay, honey.”

  Marissa looks at Rebecca standing there in my flannel shirt. “You’ll probably find it’s too warm for a shirt that heavy. Let’s get one of William’s cotton dress shirts, and wrap it with a belt. It will look like a dress on you.” She looks at me with a wicked grin. “We’re going to raid your closet.”

  I’m about to object when my phone rings. “Okay,” I concede as I go pick my phone up off my desk. It’s Zach. The ladies step into the bedroom as I answer.

  “Hello, Zach”

  “Hey, Will. I have a status update for you,” he says in greeting.

  “Great. Whatcha got?” I ask.

  “Well, the City cleared me to dig out the foundations. There were some chains stretched across the basement. I guess ‘cellar’ is more appropriate because it’s all rock wall without masonry. Anyway, the chains disappear into the rock and are looped through one another with four-inch bolts pinning the loops. The City wants us to salvage whatever bits of them we can. We’re trying to do that, but that’s where things get weird.”

  I ask, “How so?”

  Zach explains, “Well, I’ve had a couple of my brutes down there with pickaxes trying to pick the chains from the rock. They broke through the rock wall only to find the ends of each chain pass into a vertical limestone pillar in the ground. I had the boys remove all the stones from the rock wall - I figured I could put them in your retaining walls. Those posts though - they are twelve inches on a side, they extend up to the surface, and they appear to go deeper than four feet into the floor. I’ve got the boys trying to dig one out.”

  “I tell you what, Zach. I’ll be over in a couple of minutes to take a look.”

  He tells me, “Come in from the alley. I’ve got everything else still fenced off.”