3 Ghosts of Our Fathers (7 page)

“I will,” Sean said, “but don’t
make any noise when you go down the stairs.”

“I won’t,” Garth said, taking his
first step down to the basement.

Sean traced his previous path
through the kitchen and living room and into the hallway and Frank’s bedroom. As
he entered Frank’s room he kept low to the floor, moving towards the spot under
the bed where he’d hidden the matchbox.

He found it and opened it. He
reached into his pocket and removed the watch, then carefully placed it inside
the matchbox. Then he replaced the matchbox where he’d found it, next to a pair
of shoes.

Something seemed wrong. He
listened, straining his ears. He couldn’t hear anything.

I should be hearing him
snoring, or breathing,
Sean thought.

He heard the sound of the toilet flushing
in the hallway bathroom. Frank was walking back into the room.

Sean slid under the bed and held
his breath. He couldn’t fit all of the way under the bed. As long as Frank didn’t
look down as he returned, he’d be fine and he could wait until Frank fell
asleep and then leave the room. He heard the feet approaching. He angled his
head so he could see the feet.

They stopped at the bed. Sean
expected to see the feet turn, hear the mattress groan above him and then see
the feel rise up into the bed, but they didn’t. They just stood there.

He’s caught me,
Sean
thought, still holding his breath.

He felt the hand wrap around his
shirt and pull. He was yanked from under the bed. He felt the wooden slat of
the bed frame scrape against his back and arm as Frank lifted him by his shirt.

“Always a thief!” Frank said,
slurring his words. He held Sean by the back of his shirt. Sean struggled to
get out of the shirt, but Frank was gripping it too tightly. Frank sensed the
attempt to escape and brought his other hand down hard against Sean’s face.
Sean felt the room spinning and felt as though he would pass out.

“Gonna teach you a lesson,” Frank
said, wobbling on his feet. Sean wondered how Frank had the balance to make it
to the bathroom and back. He also wondered how long before the boy’s object
took effect and the promise of stopping Frank engaged. He didn’t know how it
would work, but he’d done everything the boy had asked, and right now its
engagement was his only salvation from Frank.

Frank slapped him again hard, and
Sean tasted blood. A ring on Frank’s hand had hit his eyebrow and he could feel
something warm dripping down into his eye, blurring his vision, making the dim
images of the room dark red. He pulled down inside the shirt Frank was holding,
hoping his wiggling would somehow set him free, but he couldn’t get his arms
out of the shirt.

“Now you’ll pay!” Frank said,
lifting him higher and shaking him. He pulled back his hand again and brought
it down hard on Sean’s head. The force of it twisted Sean’s head hard to the
right and he felt some of the blood on his face go flying to the floor. He couldn’t
see anything through his left eye anymore. Frank pulled back again and hit him
in the stomach. Sean felt all of the air leave his lungs and the blood enter
his open mouth as he tried to suck in air.

Why isn’t it stopping him?
Sean
wondered.
Please, stop him! He’s so drunk he’ll kill me.

Sean thought about the matchbox.
Had he placed it in the right place? Yes, it was under the bed, right where it
had been before Frank drank the powder.

Under the bed,
Sean
thought.
Maybe the bed has something to do with it.

Frank was winding his hand back
for another slap. Sean shifted his feet and instead of trying to pull away from
Frank he pushed into him. Frank lost his balance and fell sideways onto the
bed.

Sean was pulled down onto the bed
with Frank, but Frank wasn’t moving. He wondered if he’d passed out. Sean
wiggled his shirt free from Frank’s hands and stepped away from the bed.

Frank was lying with his face to
the side towards Sean. His eyes were open but his body was still. It was as
though his body was paralyzed. Sean fought to suck in a breath and finally his
lungs cooperated with him. He took several deep breaths, feeling a pain in his
side each time he did. Frank still hadn’t moved. He wiped the blood from his
eyes and moved up towards Frank to look more closely at Frank’s face. Frank’s
eyes just stared, unable to do anything.

Sean poked at Frank, trying to get
him to respond. Nothing worked. He slapped his face. No response.

Sean turned on the bedroom light
and thought about what to do. He decided to run to the basement stairwell and
call for Garth.

Garth came up the stairs and
followed Sean into the bedroom. Once he entered the lit room he saw the damage
to Sean’s face. “Are you all right?” he asked.

Sean nodded.

Garth approached Frank
tentatively.

“Is he dead?” Garth asked.

“No,” Sean said. “He’s breathing.
His eyes are open. He just can’t move.”

“Do you think he can hear us?”
Garth asked, still afraid Frank might reanimate and turn on them.

“I don’t know,” Sean said. “Here,
help me get him back into bed.”

The two boys maneuvered Frank’s
legs up onto the bed and positioned him normally. Frank’s body was limp, dead
weight. Occasionally Frank’s eyes would settle on one of them and give them a
disquieting moment, but they became bolder with each minute that passed.

“What do we do now?” Garth asked,
staring at Frank who was lying still on the bed.

“I guess we go to bed,” Sean said.
“Let’s see how he looks in the morning.”

-

Garth took another sip of coffee.
The waiter showed up to remove their dishes, and Steven and Daniel took the
moment to lean back in their chairs after having been on the edge of them for
the past several minutes.

“The next day he was the same,”
Garth said. “Comatose. Just staring into space. Couldn’t move or do anything
other than open his eyes and breathe. Didn’t eat, went to the bathroom in the
bed. We explained it all to Davy and then decided we’d better tell Davy’s mom.
We told her that Frank had been in bed all day and couldn’t move, and we were
afraid something was wrong with him. Of course we didn’t tell her what we’d
done.

“She didn’t relish the idea of
coming over to the house with us to check on him, since Frank was a terrible
neighbor, but she had seen the look of worry on our faces and decided she’d
better check it out. Once she saw him she called a doctor. The next thing you
know, Frank was in an asylum and Sean and I were sent off to live in a foster
home. It wasn’t great, but it was an awful lot better than living with Frank,
let me tell you.”

Garth paused. He took a long sip
of coffee and then sighed, as though he’d just freed himself of a terrible
secret.

“You already know Frank died in
the asylum years ago. Sean passed away from cancer. I never married, no kids of
my own, and now I’m here. But gentlemen, I’ve still got some fight left in me.
If Frank has found a way back, I’ll do whatever I can to help you fight that terrible
son of a bitch. I’m not as afraid of him now as I was back then.”

Steven and Daniel looked at each
other. Daniel spoke first.

“I think what you created was a
soul cage,” Daniel said. “It sounds to me like it was designed to last for
eighty years.”

“But why come after me?” Steven
asked. “No offense Garth, but you’d think his target would be you.”

“True,” Garth said. “I’ve not seen
Frank in the manner you describe. Maybe he’s been visiting me here and I’ve
slept through it. Or, maybe he’s targeting you because you have the gift, like
Davy had.”

Steven looked up at Garth. He’d
not told Garth anything about his abilities.

“Yes, Mr. Hall,” Garth said, “I
can tell. I could see it in Davy, the way he could communicate with the boy,
and I can see it in you. In fact, you look a lot like him.”

Garth stared at Steven, pinching
his eyes a little. Then his eyes went wide, and he set his coffee mug down on
the table.

“How daft of me,” Garth said. “Of
course.”

“Of course?” Steven asked. “What?”

“Davy,” Garth said. “And you. What
was your grandfather’s name, Steven?”

“Blair on my mother’s side,”
Steven said, “and David on my father’s.”

“Davy’s last name,” Garth said,
“was Hall. I believe it was your grandfather who helped us imprison Frank.”

Everyone sat quietly around the
coffee table, letting this revelation sink in.

“How would Frank know Davy was
involved?” Steven asked.

“Depends on the soul cage,” Daniel
said. “Frank’s body was useless, but his soul could continue to observe things,
learn things.”

“Did you ever discuss this with
David…Davy after it happened?” Steven asked Garth.

“Oh yes,” Garth said. “Davy had
asked us for the details, and both Sean and I told him everything that had
played out. Davy was as delighted in Frank’s situation as we were, but we were
also afraid we’d done something terrible. All three of us went back to the boy
in the garage to ask him what had happened to Frank. Davy did all of the
communicating with the boy, interpreting the answers the boy gave so we could
understand. He never mentioned anything about the soul cage expiring, just said
that Frank was alive, was fine, and wouldn’t ever bother us again. Sean and I
were taken from the home almost immediately after that – we never went into the
garage again. I saw Davy once more at a high school dance. He was dating a girl
from our school. I remember we talked briefly about Frank. I told him Frank was
still in an institution, and I remember Davy saying, ‘good, good.’ Then our
conversation shifted to girls and how to score some beer after the dance. Never
saw him again after that.”

“Steven, is your grandfather still
alive?” Daniel asked.

“No,” Steven said, “he died years
ago.”

“My guess,” Daniel said, “is that
when Frank’s soul was caged, he was angry, in a rage. That’s never gone away.
He holds Sean, Garth, and David accountable. No offense intended, but Garth is
elderly and without children. David, on the other hand, has living children who
continue to use the gift. It doesn’t surprise me he’d try to exact vengeance
there.”

“He always hated Davy,” Garth
said. “Never knew why. He hated him more than he disliked Sean and I. If he
learned that Davy was involved in this, I’m sure he’d be furious at him.”

“So that means,” Steven said,
“that in addition to myself, Roy might be at risk. And my son, Jason.”

“I’d say so, yes,” Daniel said.
“It’s worth finding out if either of them have been having bad dreams lately.”

“What exactly can Frank do?”
Steven asked. “He’s a ghost, right? Roy and I have fought ghosts before. They
can be dealt with.”

“Really?” Garth said. “Fascinating.”

“I’m no expert on soul cages,” Daniel
said, “but I do know a little. Frank isn’t a normal ghost. A normal ghost
occurs after death, when a person goes through death with their body and soul
together. When Frank’s soul was caged back in 1933, his body became like a
shell, operating on automatic. Eventually the shell died. But the soul never
died, never went through death, where a conversion takes place. Frank’s soul
still has a lot of life’s power in it. How much, we don’t know. We don’t know
the original terms of the binding.”

“When I saw Frank at my house,”
Steven said, “he was in some kind of glass casing that was restricting his
movements.”

“That’s a physical representation
of the cage,” Daniel said. “It has stopped his soul from returning to his body,
and from doing or going anywhere else for that matter. But his mind is still
inside that cage, active, able to gather information in real time. Do you
remember when he touched your neck?”

“Yes,” Steven said, “the bruising,
the way it was moving my skin around.”

Garth sat back in his chair,
overwhelmed by the discussion.

“Frank certainly didn’t have that
ability when he went into the cage,” Daniel said. “He picked up some skills
along the way.”

“The cage wouldn’t stop him from
learning?” Steven asked. “Or from gathering abilities or tools?”

“It would depend upon the tools,”
Daniel said, “and the terms of the binding. Some tools are purely non-temporal,
so if he was determined enough he could have used the last eighty years to
prepare for when he’d be released. This isn’t a ghost you’re dealing with –
it’s much more lethal.”

They both paused and looked up at
Garth.

“Gentlemen,” Garth said, “I’m
sorry this has come down on you. I really am. When we did it all those years
ago we had no idea what would happen. We just did it to be free of the beatings.
But I will tell you this, Mr. Hall. Sean and I were grateful to Davy back when
it happened, for helping us do it. I’m still grateful to this day. I’ll be
eternally grateful. What Davy helped us do changed our miserable childhoods
into something tolerable. I know he felt he was doing the right thing. I think
he still would have helped us even if he knew the consequences. But I’m sorry
this wheel has turned. I hope you are able to solve it, and if there’s anything
I can do to help, I will.”

“Thank you, Garth,” Steven said.
“You’ve been very helpful already. I think Daniel and I will return to Seattle.
My father should be returning from a trip today and he might have some ideas on
how we can deal with this. I should also check up on my son.”

Garth rose slowly to his feet.
“Old bones stand up a little slower than they used to,” he said. He extended a
hand to Steven and Daniel.

“Is the best way to reach you the
number here at the reception office?” Steven asked.

“Oh no,” Garth said. “Let me give
you my cell number.”

They exchanged contact
information, plugging each other’s numbers into their respective cell phones.