Authors: E. J. Krause
Nope. She took too big a backswing, and swung through, causing the ball to fly off at a funny angle. He had no idea which way was hook and which was slice, but that didn't matter. This was a shank. It flew into the concrete siding of the hole, flipped up, and landed in the bushes to the side. She let out a surprised yelp and then barked out a laugh. "I don't think it was supposed to do that."
"Not quite." Luckily her ball stuck in the top of the bushes for an easy retrieval. He placed it back at the tee. "Here, try again."
She stepped up to the ball, and he nudged her closer to it. He then reached around to help her with her swing. She melted into him, and he wasn't sure if she was paying any attention to the golf club.
"See how close you are to the ball?"
She nodded.
"This is where you should stand. And last time you swung way too hard. Let me show you how to do it."
"Okay," she said. It came out as a grunt, like she said it from the back of her throat. He almost laughed. He knew girls drove guys nuts all the time, but he sometimes forgot it was a two-way street.
He guided her hands back in a smooth motion, and they pushed forward. This time the ball smacked off the club face in a smooth line, straight for the hole. It was a much better shot than his had been. It floated up the front edge of the anthill and dropped into the hole.
Whisper jumped up and squealed. "Hole in one! Hole in one!"
Josh smiled at her, but then broke the bad news. "You realize the first one counts as a stroke, right?"
She opened her mouth in shock. "No. It was practice."
He looked back and saw no one was waiting. "Tell you what. For a kiss, we'll forget all about it."
"Deal." She threw herself at him, and they kissed with passion. Neither cared for a minute that they were in public, but soon reality overtook them, and they pulled apart.
"I'll mark down a one for both our scores," Josh said.
She flashed him a wicked grin. "If I give you enough kisses, do I win?"
His competitive drive almost took over. Almost. Instead he came to his senses and said, "Uh-huh."
She smiled and gave him a peck on the lips. She walked to the hole to get her ball, but before she did, her camera was out, and she took three or four pictures of it lying in there. She glanced at him and shrugged. "I've never had a hole-in-one before. Might as well keep the picture for prosperity, right?"
He laughed. "Yeah. Though I bet we can get you lots more tonight."
She giggled and skipped towards him. As she got near, she engulfed him in a big hug. "Promise?"
"I'll do my best," he said, a lump in his throat. They walked to the second hole, hand in hand.
He lined up his shot on hole number two, a model of a medieval castle with a drawbridge that went up and down. He loved the high fantasy aspect of the course. Each hole held the theme, if not in the actual game play, then in the surrounding decorations. He'd played this one often enough to know that if you got the ball through the drawbridge, there was a good chance it'd go in the hole. And if you missed, it was still an easy tap in for two.
As he waited for the drawbridge to drop, Whisper snapped pictures. "This place is so cool. The miniature golf courses I've been to have been themed, but nothing as neat as this."
He took his shot. The ball skipped into the castle and rolled out the back, right into the hole. "Yes!"
Whisper clapped. "Wow, you're really good at this."
"Nah. These first two holes are easy. They get tougher as we go."
She set her ball down and batted her eyelashes at him. "Are you going to help me or not?"
Who was he to say no to that? He hurried up behind her, lined her up, and gripped her hands. "Remember to bring your hands back slow and steady. Don't swing too hard, just enough to get good momentum on the ball."
"Now?" Her voice had that gravely tone again, and he couldn't hold back a smile. God, he wanted to forget about golf, take her somewhere private, and kiss her for the rest of the night.
"As soon as the drawbridge is almost all the way down." They waited a few seconds. "Now."
They swung the club, and her ball flew straight. It bounded through the castle and plopped down on top of his ball in the hole. This time she didn't squeal in delight, but headed over to retrieve it with a cocky walk.
"You look like you think you can do that on your own now," he said with a laugh.
She turned to him and rolled her eyes. "Just when I see the fun in this game, you want to stop draping yourself over me? No thank you."
It was his turn to mumble "Okay" in a throaty voice.
"I thought you'd see it my way."
They walked to the third hole, the first hard one. It was a loop. Not only did you have to hit the ball pretty solid to get it to the other side, but once you did, there was no guarantee the ball would get near the hole. Josh rarely scored even a two on this one. He wasn't sure how well he'd help Whisper, but at least he'd enjoy the effort.
Before he placed his ball down, something whizzed by him in his peripheral vision. He turned to see what it was, but saw nothing. He shook his head. Maybe it'd been a bat. They sometimes came out in the area. He wouldn't say anything to Whisper in case bats freaked her out.
"Uh, Josh?"
"Yeah?" He turned and saw her eyes wide as she looked at the display of her camera. "What? What is it?"
"There are blurs on the screen. Like at the farm." She lifted the camera and snapped a number of pictures in a row. Josh dropped his putter and ran towards her.
"No, Whisper, don't!"
He was too late. Blurry apparitions appeared and gained form. Throughout the entire miniature golf complex ghosts popped into being, like a floodgate had opened. These, like those at the farm, weren't friendly.
"I'm sorry, Josh," she said, tears forming in her eyes, "but I had to know if it was ghosts."
He turned invisible and felt Whisper do the same. Without a word spoken between them, they grasped hands and banished the nearby ghosts. Josh both saw and sensed that there were quite a few floating around, but no more than had been at school. They had to do this before anyone knew anything was wrong.
Though their immediate area was unpopulated, people filled other parts of the course, to say nothing of the pizza parlor and arcade inside the giant castle. Those were always crowded on Saturday nights. He didn't want to think about what would happen if a spirit got loose in there.
No one else knew of the danger. They banished about half of the invaders in less than a minute, but that's where the easy part ended. The remaining ghosts scattered themselves around the complex, and were beginning to gain a sense of purpose, unlike what the ghosts at school had managed.
"What do we do?" Whisper asked.
"Let's get the ones closest to the most people," Josh said, pointing towards the pizza parlor and arcade. "Then we'll handle the rest."
It took a few minutes to clean up the ghosts without people getting suspicious. They acted like they were looking around for friends as they concentrated on the banishing. No one gave them a second glance, and the ghosts didn't get close enough to anyone to do any harm. Without a word, they hurried over to the far side of the course where the remaining ghosts had congregated.
They picked their way through other people's games in their haste, using excuses of a lost little brother to gain sympathy rather than anger. Josh saw he messed up a couple of shots, but apologized and suggested a mulligan. No one punched him, or really even yelled, so it was a success. He could have sworn he saw both Zach and Kendra a few different times out among the fantasy decorations, but every time he looked closer, they weren't there.
Whisper pointed to the back fence where a couple of ghosts advanced on a young family. Josh gritted his teeth and pulled Whisper along faster. They jumped in between the family and the ghosts, pretending they were looking out at the freeway behind the miniature golf complex. The banishing went smooth, and the family hardly noticed them. He couldn't see any other ghosts, but he sensed another one out there somewhere.
Whisper felt it, too. "Where is it?"
Back against the far wall of the complex, he was able to survey the entire course. And that's when he did see Zach. He smiled at Josh and pointed over towards the eighteenth hole, the one where you deposited your ball into a cage. If you hit it right, you'd win a free game. Josh had been successful a few times, but not often. But now, in this game of life and death, he and Whisper had failed.
The ghost floated towards a family, or more precisely, the dad. They sprinted towards the scene, hopeful they'd make it there before the ghost could cause any real harm. Before they were even halfway, Josh realized they weren't going to make it. The ghost pushed its hands through the man's back, aimed right at his heart. The dad lined up his shot and swung, while his wife and two boys watched the outcome, not him. The ball skipped under the wire mesh and just missed the magic free game spot. The family groaned, and then the ghost's hand squeezed the man's heart. He gasped and fell. The wife turned just in time to see him collapse.
"Nick! No! Someone help!"
The kids flew into hysterics, and the ghost bounced happily away, unwittingly towards Josh and Whisper. They banished it, but the damage was done. They could only stare at the scene, but for different reasons than other people. As employees of the golf course rushed in to help, Josh and Whisper were the only ones to see the man's soul rip free from his body and float away.
Whisper buried her head into Josh's shoulder and sobbed. He had to fight hard to keep his own tears from coming. They'd failed. They'd failed big time.
*****
They stood in front of Whisper's house, leaning on his car. She still heaved occasional sobs into his chest as he stood holding her. He couldn't think of any comforting words, so he just held her, one hand combing through her hair, while the other scratched her back.
After a few minutes, she looked up at him, her eyes red and puffy. "We saw him die. We saw the exact moment he died."
Josh wasn't sure why he said what he said next, and he didn't mean it to come out as harsh as it did. Except, well, it was the truth. "If you wouldn't have taken all those damn pictures, the ghosts wouldn't have been there."
She stepped back, a look on her face as if he'd just slapped her. Tears didn't fall--he must have shocked them out of her. Instead her face turned angry and she said, in a calm voice that cracked slightly, "I didn't know any of that would happen." She backed away and started up towards her house.
"Whisper, wait. Come on. I didn't mean it like that."
She didn't turn around. "Goodnight, Josh." Now he heard the tears in her voice.
He debated chasing after her and apologizing profusely, but he didn't. She did, after all, invite the ghosts there. She knew what would happen when the blurs started. If she'd left well enough alone, they wouldn't have come. Or if they did, it wouldn't have been her fault. It would have been the demon.
When her door slammed shut, Josh got in his car and drove away. After a few blocks, he had to pull over, as sobs finally overtook him. He wasn't sure if it was from seeing a man, a father, die on his watch, or from making the girl he loved feel the agony of blame. Or both. At this point it didn't matter. He could only sit there at the curb on this dark residential street and cry his heart out.
Josh stomped around his room, getting ready for bed. He chucked his clothes at the hamper, knocking it over, but he didn't care. Screw it. He was glad Mom had the late shift tonight--he didn't need her grilling him about what was wrong. Everything was wrong. He'd watched a man die tonight. He'd been unable to stop it from happening, even though he was entrusted with the powers.
He'd handled everything wrong with Whisper, and that darkened his mood even more. He blamed her for the ghosts. Was that fair? Hell no, but there it was. He should be blaming the demon, Zach and Kendra, and even the ghosts themselves. But Whisper should have known better. She knew the camera drew them out, and she snapped the pictures anyway. It was reckless, and it cost a man his life and a wife her husband. But more importantly, it cost two young boys their father.
Crap. Whisper knew all that. She'd sobbed in his arms, not because the man was dead, but because she blamed herself. The last thing she needed was more heaped on by him. Crap-crap-crap.
He dropped to his knees in front of his bed and smacked his forehead against the mattress multiple times, hoping it would knock some sort of sense into him. Didn't work. He looked over to his dresser and thought about doing the same thing. No, he hurt enough as it was; he didn't need the physical pain on top of it.
His phone caught his eye. Should he call Whisper and beg for forgiveness? His hand twitched towards it, but stopped. No, not yet. He didn't trust himself. He still wanted to be mad, and she was an easy target.
His heart hurt. He loved her, he really did. He'd do everything in his power to make things right between them, but not yet. He sighed, turned off the light, and climbed into bed.
As more self-pity and misdirected anger overwhelmed him, a presence filled his room. He sat up and looked around. With his eyes not yet adjusted to the dark, he couldn't see anything. At least this ghost wasn't malevolent. He felt that right away. It was here for a reason, but violence, evil, and wrongdoing weren't part of its plan. He grunted and pulled the covers over him. If it wanted anything, it'd let him know. He wasn't in any damn mood to cater to ghosts at the moment.
Sleep overtook him faster than he expected.
*****
Josh ran towards the ghost, determined to stop it before it got to the man, the father. He wouldn't let those kids grow up without a dad. He couldn't let them.
As he continued forward, everything jumbled. He no longer ran through a miniature golf course, but a hyper-colorful fantasy forest. The family and eighteenth hole somehow remained. He looked down and saw a green tunic and brown leather pants, an outfit he associated with Robin Hood. He glanced behind and saw Whisper, who hadn't been there seconds before, keeping pace with him. She wore a long pink princess dress, and she wore it well. He almost forgot for a second that he was mad at her, or rather mad at himself for being mad at her.