Ghost Program (22 page)

   Gregg ran to me.  “Sam!  Oh Sam!” he said.  Gregg knelt down next to where I lay.  “You’re safe -- safe!  I’m so sorry, sister.  Are you all right?”

   “Yes.”  I cried miserably, and Gregg put an arm around my back and grasped my shoulder with the other. 

   “You’re not hurt?”  His brown eyes looked into mine.

   I shook my head.

   “Oh!  I’m inexpressibly relieved.  But your stomach!”  Gregg looked at my bare stomach.  Blood oozed out of the cuts.  “And you’re shaking violently.”

   “It’s-- it’s not bad.  Shallow,” I gasped.

   I couldn’t help but look at the fallout from creepy guy’s battle with Tony.  The demon’s body was sprawled face first on the gravel,
His
severed neck sticking out of
His
long, black coat.  The body didn’t move, but I kept my eyes on it, afraid that it would.  I guess
He
couldn’t do much without
His
head.  The edges of
His
neck were raw and shredded, but no blood ran out.  I suppose that the dead have no need for blood; their bodies are perhaps merely symbolic, a reflection of who they once were, nothing more.

   “That man meant to take your life, a most sordid mission indeed,” said Gregg, his bright eyes concerned, hopeful.  “I’m so sorry you had to suffer, dear.  It wasn’t right.”  His cold hands wiped tears from my cheeks.  “There now.  I won’t be happy until you stop crying.  You’re not alone now.  Oh sister, I felt your fear, but I didn’t know where you were.  At the scream, Tony came running, and we both went looking for you.  It was Tony who spotted the little trail, and now with my worry and Tony’s prodigious strength, you’ve been saved.  I should thank Tony, a remarkable man!  The skirmish went well in his favor as our cad lost his head.”  He chuckled.  “Well now, that’s a fitting retribution.  We’ll leave
Him
here. 
He
’s not in such a good way that
He
can bother you.  Let’s get you back to the house.”  Gregg’s handsome face gave a small smile, then he picked me up and carried me.  “It’s all over, sister.”

   Silent, stunned, I grasped his cold neck for all I was worth, leaned my head against his woolen jacket, and squeezed my eyes shut as he carried me back down the trail.  I didn’t open them until I heard mom’s voice screeching my name.

   “Sam!”  That was her, alright.

   Holy shit, she had seen us.  And not just me either, but Gregg as well as he carried me into the entryway of our house.

   “What have you done to my daughter?” she screamed.

   “Mom, please,” I sobbed.  “This is Gregg.  He saved me.”

   I could feel her wide, blue eyes looking over me. 

   She was silent for a minute, then said:  “I knew it.”  She paused.  “This house is cursed.  There are things in it that don’t belong here.”

   “Mom?”

   “Take that maid, for instance,” she said.  “People aren’t supposed to be able to walk through doors, all very strange.”  She looked older than usual, haggard, and less sure of herself.

   “Ma’am, please,” said Gregg, his brown eyes studying her.  “Your daughter has had an unfortunate fright, but she is unharmed, and I would like to take her upstairs.”

   “Well, go ahead.  Don’t let me stop you.”  Mom’s expression looked...
crazy
.  Her eyes were locked onto my bloody stomach.

   “Please, I’m all right,” I said to her.  “I’ll explain it all to you soon.”

   “Sam,” came her tremulous whisper.  “You... don’t need.. to do... that.  You’re not hurt?”

   “No,” I said.

   “I’m so sorry,” Gregg said in a low voice.  He carried me towards the stairwell.

   Mom went rooting around in the liquor cabinet.

   A minute later, I lay on my bed as Gregg straightened the sheets and propped me up with pillows.  I sent him to the bathroom for some bandages and antiseptic, and he returned with it shortly.

   “Gregg,” I said, a tear rolling down my face again.  “There’s a pentagram on my stomach.  I’m not going to turn into some kind of demon, are I?  I’m going to be all right?  What did
He
do
to me?”

   “Sam, only you are responsible for the state of your soul.  And
He
hasn’t killed you, so
He
hasn’t take your body either.  No, a silly ritual like that would only work if you possessed less force of personality and goodness of spirit than you have.  Demons truly are the weakest of all species.  But,” he smiled kindly, “you’re going to wear yourself out if you cry any longer.”

   I watched Gregg as he took a cotton ball and dabbed some antiseptic on it, then taped some pieces of gauze over the cuts on my belly.  The rush I’d felt from my fear had run out, and now I did feel the sting of my mutilated skin.  As he rubbed a bloody spot with cotton, I sucked my breath in.

   “It’s not so bad,” he said.  “You’re very brave.”

   “Yeah,” I said, attempting a small smile.  “We got
Him
much worse than
He
got me.  We got
His
head.”

   “That’s correct, angel.  The world is a merciful place when you’ve friends to watch out for you.  I won’t leave until you’ve sufficiently recovered and have another companion to look after your needs.”

   Soon I was patched up, and Gregg sat next to where I lay on the bed, the scent of his cologne permeating the small room, his hands fumbling for his pipe and pouch of tobacco.  I watched as he tapped tobacco into the top of the pipe, then breathed deeply as the sweet scent of his vice filled my nostrils.

   He looked at me.  “I once asked you why you were here, why you came to live in my house, but I realize now how foolish I was.  Dear, I was meant to watch over you, and our meeting was no accident.  I can feel you, Sam.  I can feel your fears, your hopes, your worries.... I don’t know why we are connected so, how our bond came about, but here we are.  I thought that you were my sister, but you are so much more than that; there is no word for it.”

   “I’m leaving for Seattle,” I said sadly.

   “I know,” said Gregg.  His face clouded a little, but then he smiled.  “And if it makes you happy, then it will do the same for me, understand?  My soul is joined with yours.”

   “Will you feel me when I’m that far away?” I asked.

   “I don’t know,” said Gregg softly.  “I wish that I would.”

   “Mom said that Seattle is more dangerous than Seaside.  What if she’s right?  I’m afraid to go to a place I know nothing about.”  I leaned up on my elbows to watch Gregg and winced as the cuts twisted and stung me.

   “Don’t try to sit up, stay flat.  You’re just going to make yourself bleed all over again,” said Gregg.  He rearranged my pillow and straightened my torso out, tut-tutting all the while as he checked my bandages to make sure that they were still on.  “They don’t hurt do they?”

   “They’re fine,” I said.

   “You’re in no way to travel to Seattle,” said Gregg as he kissed my hand.

   “I’ll make it fine,” I said.

   I wanted to tell Gregg about his mother, about the lit cave, to take him down there to wherever it was that he needed to go, but I kept quiet.  It was my last day in Seaside, and I didn’t want to spend it without him.

   “It horrifies me to think of what might have happened,” he said.

   “But it didn’t,” I said.  “I had you, and I had Tony.”

   Mom came into my room with a tray of food.  I couldn’t at first see what was on it because I was laying flat on my back.  I wondered if she could see Gregg, but then I was pretty sure she could because he took the tray from her.

   “Look, Sam.  Your...uh -- mother has brought you some nourishment.  I really must thank you, lady, for walking all the way up those stairs.  Wasn’t that nice?”

   Mom blushed and looked uncomfortable.  “It’s just some cantaloupe and turkey sandwiches,” she said.  “I put a soda on there, too.  It’s good that you’re doing so well.  Are you going to be alright, then?”

   “Yes, mom.  I’m alright.  Gregg is here, and Brent is coming by later.”

   “Alright, then.  I’ll be right downstairs.  If you really need anything, yell.  I’ll keep an ear out for you.”

   She left out the door.

   “Oh, Sam,” said Gregg.  “This is awkward.  Don’t sit up.  I’ll hand you the food, just stay on your back.”  He fished a piece of cantaloupe off the tray and put it in my hand while I stared at the white ceiling.  “Is this acceptable?  You won’t choke on it, will you?”

   “It’s fine,” I said.  “It’s delicious.”  I chewed on the cantaloupe.

   “That’s my girl.  Ready for some turkey?”

*****

Maureen and Robert’s narrative

   “You’re lost,” said Maureen to her husband as they drove down the fog-ensconced rural road.

   “I am not,” Robert replied to the pretty brunette.  “The real estate agent said it was a few miles down this road, then the second right.”

   “Why don’t you just pull over and admit your lost?  Why do we always have to go through this?”

   “Because I know where I’m going.”

   “No you don’t.  We’ve been driving around for twenty minutes, and we’re still not at the house.   We shouldn’t have had all those cocktails before we left.  God, it’d be fitting for us to get pulled over like this, wouldn’t it, soused as we both are.  We were supposed to meet our broker ten minutes ago.  They’re going to get bored and leave without us.”

   “I’m not soused, and they’re not going to leave without us.  You texted them, right?  To tell them we’d be late?”

   “Of course I did.  That doesn’t mean that you know what the fuck you’re doing.”

   “I don’t know why you wanted to live way out here, anyway.  Why do we have to leave Seattle?”

   “I told you before, and I’ll tell you again.  No decent person buys a house in that shit hole of a city.  I want to be here.  There’s not much crime, and the schools are good.  That’s what the agent said anyway.  You’d be good to listen to him, instead of making an ass out of yourself.”

   “I bet it’s that road up ahead.”

   “Where?  There’s so much fog, I can’t see anything.”

   “There.  At that signpost.  Slow down so we can read it.  It might tell us something.”

   “Here?  I can’t just stop on a highway.”

   “Pull up to the sign and pull over!”

   The car’s tires made a crunching sound as they veered onto the gravel-laden shoulder.

   Maureen’s scream shook Robert to his very core.  She pulled on his jacket sleeve, trying to speak but shock stopped her throat from functioning properly, producing only a gurgling sound.

   Robert stared as Tony strolled casually down the side of the highway, swinging the demon’s severed head by its hair.  The jaw of the head hung open widely, revealing sharp, pointed, white teeth as it bumped against Tony’s thigh.

   Maureen was gasping, filled with a mortal dread.  “Turn... the... car... around...I want... to leave.”

   “Fuck, what is that he’s carrying, a head?” mumbled Robert under his breath and his car made a U-turn on the highway and drove back the way it came.  “Where’s he going with it?”

*****

  
Brent burst through the door of my bedroom as I sat slightly up to see him. 

   He smiled.  “All packed for Seattle?” he asked.  The smile suddenly left his face, and he appeared perplexed.  “Sam....are you okay?  There’s... my god, what happened?  There’s blood on your shirt.”

   “Oh, I’m sorry, Brent,” said Gregg.  “We almost failed her.  She-- she wandered away from the house and was attacked.”

   Brent looked unhappy as he knelt down next to the bed and touched my blood-soaked t-shirt.

   “I’m okay,” I said, reaching up to touch his arm.

   His hand trembled slightly as he lifted the shirt.  “There’s bandages...”

   “
He
cut me; it’s shallow. 
He
’s dead.  Tony killed the demon.  My crutches... they’re up the trail behind the house.  I can’t even walk.”

   “Okay, okay.  Let’s get those first,” said Brent, glancing about nervously.

   Gregg sat watching us, then jumped up.  “Yes, there’s been an extraordinary turn of events, but you shouldn’t have to leave so soon after your arrival.  I know precisely where her crutches lay.  I should be the one to retrieve them.”

   I nodded at Gregg.  He hurried out of the room.

   “Does it hurt?” asked Brent, his gaze locked on the bandages which covered my torso.  He squeezed my shoulder, then ran his hand up and down over my arm.