Ghost Program (12 page)

   “Well, there’s nothing you could have done about Mr. Breame; you wouldn’t have known where to find me, and even if you did, you shouldn’t have tangled with those two.  And no, Brent, they’re not going to believe it.”

   “How long until you can stay up here with me?”

   “I don’t know exactly.  Not more than a week and a half, I’m sure.”

   As I spoke, Victoria reclined in her fluffy chair, sipping tea and idly staring out the large window.

   “I have to go, Brent.  Come down tomorrow.  Can you?”

   “I’m supposed to work after classes, but I guess I could call in sick.  I could probably be there around two in the afternoon.”

   “I’ll see you then.  Don’t forget.  Don’t look at any other girls; always remember there’s one in Seaside that is thinking of you.”

   “Don’t be silly.  You’re the only one that matters.  To me, anyway.  Rest easy, Sam,” said Brent.

   “Bye.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”

   It was then that I realized how many things in my life didn’t matter: finishing the quarter at school, my grade on my programming project, my well-coordinated outfits ...I would’ve given it all up just to keep living one more day, to be able to smell the scent of pine in the air or hear a dog bark.

   I clicked the phone off and handed it back to Victoria.

   “We should get to the clinic if you want to get those x-rays,” she said.  “It closes at 9.  I don’t know how we’ll get you to the car, but....I have to ask you one question first.  Are you sure that the man who attacked you in the shower, are you sure that he wasn’t human?”

   “He wasn’t human...he could have easily passed for one, but he appeared and reappeared out of thin air.  He’s not alive.”

   “Because if that’s true what you said, you are in a fearful amount of danger.  You may have invited a demon into your home, unknowingly.  Demons are very dangerous, Sam.  And I’d like to help you.  I think it’s very important that we meet again after I take you home.”

   “Can we get to the doctor, now?” I said.  “I’m starting to feel really bad, really horrible pain.  If I could just clear my head a little, stop thinking about my ankle....”

   “Of course.  I really should have been more considerate.  You must be in terrible discomfort.  I’ll just be a minute bringing your clothes.”  She stood, and gracefully she made her way out of the room, returning a minute later with my sweatpants and sweater, freshly washed and smelling like roses.  Victoria had the lithe body of a dancer and an unforgettable silky voice.  “Can you dress yourself or should I help you?” she asked.

   “I can do it,” I said.

   “Good.  I’m going to grab some sandwiches to bring with us.  Your visit may take awhile.  I don’t want to get hungry.”

   She left the room.  I pulled the soft blue nightgown up over my head and wasn’t too thrilled at the sight underneath.  My chest was a mixture of lumps and bruises, as well as my stomach, and pretty much everywhere else.  I quickly pulled on my sweater and sweatpants as well as the undergarments she had removed last night.  Everything was dry and clean.

   She returned with her purse, a small grocery bag, and a pair of blue sneakers.  She placed the grocery bag and purse next to me, kneeling to fit the shoes on.

   “When you washed up on the beach, you weren’t wearing shoes.  Oh!  But your ankle!  How will we even get you to the car?” she asked.  “I’ve got to check the garage and see if I still have my old crutches.  If not, we are really going to have a time of it.  I’ll be right back.”

   She left and returned a few minutes later, lugging a set of aluminum crutches.

   “I used them for a sprained ankle.  I’m a little tall so I’ll have to adjust them down a notch.”  She worked on adjusting the screws, then handed the pair to me, leaning them against the couch.  “You don’t have to go far; the car is parked right in the front.  Hold on; I’ve got a spare jacket.”  She threw a wool coat on and brought me a windbreaker.  Veronica pulled the windbreaker over my arms and chest, then helped me to stand up with the crutches.

   “Do they work?” She smiled, grabbed her purse and the bag, then pulled her keys out.  “Mark won’t be home for an hour or so; he went into town.  So we’re on our own.”

   “It’s fine.”

   “Follow me.”

   I hobbled behind her, past the staircase, through a den, to a pair of French doors.  She unlocked the dead bolt and opened the heavy door.  Down three steps was parked a white Cadillac.  Veronica helped me into the passenger seat, placing the crutches in the large backseat.  She started the car and rolled it down the winding driveway, past the terraced slope of the hillside, pressed a button by the iron gate, then pulled through it as it opened wide.  She cranked the heater on and fastened her seatbelt.

   “It gets so chilly at night.  It’ll warm up in here soon, though,” she said.  “It’s only in Washington that we can have a warm day and a freezing cold night.”

   “It’s the cold fog coming off the ocean,” I said.  “No sun to burn it off.”

   “My friend is a doctor who runs a small urgent care clinic.  I’ll make sure he doesn’t charge you anything now.  If what you said about the accident is true, I’m sure they can file a claim against the insurance.”

   “Does it still pay if the accident was intentional?”  I asked.

   Veronica sighed.  “Maybe not.  I don’t know.  Wouldn’t seem fair for you to pay, though.  Regardless, I’m sure it’ll work out.”

   “The men who did this to me are dead.  Can the clinic collect payments from the dead?”

   “Gosh, I’m not sure.  Like I said, these things usually work out money wise.  I’ll make sure the clinic advocates for you so you don’t have to pay a dime.  How are you feeling?”

   “It hurts to sit like this.  Even breathing is painful.”

   “Be sure to tell them.  Oh, here’s our street.”  The car turned down a tree-lined street, and Veronica parallel parked her sedan behind a dark, shiny pickup. 

   “I’ll help you out,” she said.

   “Okay,” I said.

   She opened the backseat door and pulled out the crutches, then opened my door and handed them to me.  I used them to stand on the dusky sidewalk.

   “Be careful.  There’s lots of cracks in the cement; I know someone who broke their elbow walking a sidewalk like that at night.  It’s gonna be harder with crutches, but the good news is we’re parked real close.  It’s that modern, boxy cement building right there with all the lights.”  She pointed to the street corner.

   “Do I just tell them I was in a car accident?”

   “I guess.  You look the part, anyway.”

   “I know.  I
feel
the part.” 

   “One thing, we’re coming to some stairs.  You sure you can do this in the dark?  If not, we can go around the building.”

   “It’s fine.”

   I climbed narrow cement steps to a glass door entrance, walking two steps behind Veronica.  The doors automatically opened, and we stepped into a pleasant reception area.  A young woman with fluffy hair sat at a computer behind a desk.

   “Is Dr. Müeller in?” Veronica asked.

   “He should be done with his patient in five minutes.”

   “Can you tell him that Veronica is here, and that my friend was in a car accident?”

   “Yes, I’ll go tell him now.”  She got up and opened a wooden door, then came back a minute later.  “He said I can show you to room 5,” she said.  “Follow me.”

   She led us to a small room, and I excused myself to use the toilet.  It was there in the bathroom mirror that I saw, for the first time, how marred my appearance had become.  There was a split gash on my forehead and a dark bruise which ran along my cheekbone accompanied by a split lip. My nose was purple, my eye swollen.  I returned to Veronica and five minutes later, Dr. Müeller came in. 

   “Hi Ron,” said Veronica.  “My friend here is all beat up.  Car accident.”

   “So I heard,” he said.  He looked all over me quickly.  “What worries you specifically?  Is there anything that hurts in particular?”  Dr. Müeller was about forty years old and wore a burgundy sweater and khakis.

   “My ankle hurts,” I said.  “And the side of my ribs.”

   “You had a car accident?” he said.

   “Yes,” I replied.

   “It looks like it was a doozy.  How’s the car?”

   “It’s dead.”

   “I’ll bet it is.  Can you walk on the ankle at all?”

   “No.”

   “Probably broken.  I’ve got an x-ray machine, but it’s in a different room.  Come with me, and we’ll take a few pictures.  Are you sure that’s all that’s bothering you?”

   “That’s right,” I said.

   I left Veronica to sit in the little room while the x-rays were taken.  After placing me on a metal table and running a large x-ray machine, the doctor confirmed that two ribs were broken and that my ankle was also fractured. 

   “They’re just hairline fractures, not anything that won’t heal naturally but I’ll give you a referral to an orthopedist and write a prescription.”  He spoke in a smooth, professional voice.  “Nothing to worry too much about.  I also think we should put a couple of butterflies on that cut of yours and clean it out.”

   I hobbled back to the room where Veronica waited for me.  A nurse came in and spent awhile installing a fiberglass cast on my ankle and cleaning and bandaging my forehead, then brought me a prescription for pain pills.

   “There’s an all night pharmacy across the street,” said the nurse. 

   “Can I say goodbye to the doctor?” asked Veronica sweetly, patting her glossy hair.

   “He’s in the hallway writing up her chart.”

   “Oh, good.  I’ll just be able to catch him.”

    Veronica left the room for a minute then came back to get me.

   “Let’s get those pain pills and find out what else it is we should do tonight,” she said.

   “I’ve got to get to the police station,” I said.

   “That’s right.”

   “I don’t know what I’m going to tell them.”

   “Just don’t tell them anything involving the supernatural, and you should be fine.”

   We left through the glass doors and down the cement steps to Veronica’s car.  I took a lot longer than Veronica to descend the steps because of my crutches and a fear I had that I would fall and land on my ankle, hurting it more.  It swelled and throbbed, constantly reminding me of its presence at the end of my leg.  Veronica quickly guided the car across the street, parking the Cadillac in the pharmacy parking lot.

   “Just stay there and wait for me.  Make sure to lock your door after I leave.  Help yourself to one of those sandwiches.  They’re in the brown bag.”  She pointed to a brown grocery bag.

   At her words, I realized that I was starved and pulled out an egg salad sandwich, eating it in about four bites.  There was a can of soda in the bag I used to wash it down with.  After ten minutes, Veronica came back to the car with a white pharmacy bag.  She unlocked the car and got into the driver’s seat.

   “They had your insurance on file so all that was left was a little co-pay.  Good, huh?  And he said just not to drink alcohol with those pills; they’re a certain kind of narcotic.”

   I was relieved at her words.  The past few hours had been horrible for me as the non-stop pain was clouding my brain, so I gratefully swallowed two of the white pills down.  Veronica started up the car.

   “Police station it is,” she said.  “Are you ready?”

   “This is going to be hard,” I said.

   “Just try to relax.”

   “I’ve got to tell them that there’s a yacht in the water behind your house with two melted bodies in it.”

   “It’ll be okay.”

   “I really dread going through with this.” 

   After a few minutes though, I started to feel the effects of the pills and casually lost my fear of an interrogation.  I finally felt that my day was beginning to get better, and it was almost over.  Veronica’s sandwich had cured my aching hunger, and the narcotics had cured my aching everything else.

   As if noticing a change, Veronica looked at me.  “Feel better?” she asked.

   “A lot.”

   “That’s good.  I think I can help you.  Like I said, mother was a psychic kind of like you.  She didn’t use a computer to see the ghosts, but she’d had many encounters like yours, some good, some very bad.  Dabbling in the occult is not something that you should be doing alone and without experience.  It could kill you.” 

   I frowned.  “I didn’t mean to die....”

   “I know.  My words sound harsh, but maybe I meant them to be.  Messing with spirits is no joke.  You must have support behind you, protection.  And maybe myself or one of mother’s friends can provide that.  I’d hate to hear that I rescued you only for you to be killed by a demon a month later.  We’re coming up to the station.  I’ll go in with you, just in case you need moral support or help with your crutches.”