Pennies for the Ferryman - 01 (16 page)

Pastor Duncan, who probably had seen some strange things in his many years, looked pale as a ghost as he helped hold me up. Silas was already over at the window, looking for them.

“They can’t seem to leave the property, Mike. There’s a third one out there, but it looks tied up with a rope or chain.”

I was shaking, not really sure if it was shock or adrenaline and I was wondering if I might have wet myself – yeah, some hero huh? Nonetheless, I was angry enough to go stumbling out to track those two down. The one on the rope wasn’t your typical fighting dog. It looked like a small female husky that had seen better days. I left it alone. Even in my battered state, I figured out that this was just some kind of “bait” dog that was tied up and used to train the others how to kill.

If I ever caught up to the piece of filth that owned this property before the Williams family, I swore to do some right nasty things to him.

Silas was right; the other two couldn’t leave the yard. Too bad the “yard” was at least two acres of land. I called to my preachers and since the dogs didn’t know they couldn’t hurt them, I used Pastor Duncan, with Brother Silas calling directions out to him, to help drive the dogs to me.

Good thing this place didn’t have neighbors near. It would have looked pretty ridiculous. Even with Reggie Duncan’s help, it took fifteen minutes for me to “get” the first one and another ten before I finished off the other one.

Approaching the tied up husky, I looked at it, cowering. Instinctively, I held my hand out to it and it crawled forward, sort of inching, so it could sniff me. It tried to lick me, which wasn’t as painful as my normal contact with the spirits. I patted it on the head a few times and it rolled over to let me scratch its belly – well, her belly.

“What is it Mike?” Pastor Duncan asked.

“This one’s not a fighting dog. It was just a practice dog.”

“Are you going to kill it?” Silas asked. It seemed like he was waiting for my answer and I could sense he was going to judge me based on what I said.

“Don’t know. It would end the dog’s suffering, but I’m guessing the other ones would terrorize it even in whatever comes after. The rope goes into the ground. Pastor Duncan, could you see if there’s a shovel on the back porch?”

Starting to dig, I saw the husky suddenly begin cowering. I turned to see a large shape running out of the tree line. It was an angry looking man. Why did it always have to be big guys? I dropped the shovel and picked up the sword.

I pointed the tip at the ghost and tapped into my ‘short man’s syndrome’, “I can see you and I can destroy you just like I did to your dogs. That’s right, you damn redneck – you’re this close to getting crossed over! You’ve got one chance to leave and never come back. This property isn’t yours anymore! And another thing, if I hear you’ve been harassing that little boy, or anyone else, I will hunt your ass down and take my sweet time. Do you get me?”

The coward must have seen something he didn’t like in my face and headed for the hills. Pastor Duncan, having only heard my side of it, gave a hearty laugh. “Not exactly the normal wording we use during one of these, Michael, but it seems equally as effective.”

Shrugging, I set the blade down and picked up the shovel. Five minutes of digging later, I found a concrete pad with a metal ring embedded in it, buried under about a foot of dirt. We used a sledge hammer to break the metal ring loose. That seemed to be the husky’s anchor.

I handed Silas the ring and he walked with it pacing the edge of the property and blessing it. After finishing, the dog obediently followed us to the car, while I considered what I would do with a phantom husky.

“Hi, you must be Ben.” The young boy looked up at me from his coloring book. The hotel room the Williams family was staying at looked like they had been there for a while.

“Yes.” Was all the reply I was offered, the boy seemed very skittish.

“Listen, I want to talk to you about some monsters that I found in your home. They are gone now. We took care of them. You don’t have to worry anymore.”

“But no one else ever sees the monsters!” Ben objected.

“That’s why they sent for me and Brother Silas. You see Ben; we are special, just like you. When most people get older, they stop seeing these things. Maybe that will happen to you or maybe it won’t; only time will tell.”

“How did you get rid of the monsters?”

“Well I have a special sword and scared them away,” I said, not wanting to get into the details.

Ben’s parents were obviously skeptical that I was feeding Ben’s delusions. His father scoffed, “Sir, I’d rather not have that kind of talk around my son. There’s nothing to be served about filling his head with nonsense about magic swords.”

Admittedly, I was tired, cranky and had several very real feeling dog bites on my body. I stood up and went into the bathroom and got several tissues from the little dispenser built in to the counter top. Looking right at Ben’s father and holding up the palm of my left hand, I said, “As you can see Ben, there’s no wound on my hand. I’ll hold it here for a second so you don’t think I went in the bathroom and cut myself just to trick you. In my other hand is my invisible sword. Now, I want you to point to a spot on my palm and I’ll make a little cut right where you tell me with my sword.”

Ben did his part, and using the tip of the sword, I made a small cut on my palm right where he indicated. I then set the ghost sword across my lap and kept the one hand visible so they saw it. The five year old was beaming and his parents were clearly shocked. Maybe I had a future as a stage magician? I could get some Casper to help me and I could guess the card people were holding and make wounds appear on my body? Actually, cutting myself for other people’s enjoyment sounded a bit on the idiotic side, so I squashed that idea.

“That’s what I used to drive off the monsters. They won’t bother you any more, little man. If they ever come back, tell your parents and they can send word, but I have other little boys and girls to help. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir.” The kid seemed to swell with pride. I could add works well with children to my future resumes.

I used the tissue and wiped the blood off my palm and stood. His father followed us out into the hallway. “How exactly did you do that magic trick? Don’t worry; I won’t spoil it for my son.”

If I wasn’t so tired, I’d have made a stink right then. Fortunately, Silas stepped in and answered for me, “You asked us to come out and investigate the unexplainable. Please understand that the solution to the problem may be equally unexplainable.”

Three extra-strength pain relievers and a few hours later, I soaked in my bathtub. Pastor Duncan drove by Megan Rosemont’s house and dropped off the husky for Elsbeth to take care of, explaining that my mom might object to a ghostly dog in her house. Mom never wanted a live one, so I didn’t expect this to be any different.

Besides, Elsbeth looked like she needed some company. She could use a hobby or a pet. I’d been tempted to put the focus in my yard and incorporate the pooch into my “protections”, but the dog had clearly suffered enough and I doubted that I would pay enough attention to it. The funniest part on the ride home was the dog sticking its head out through the closed car window. Elsbeth actually appeared happy for a change and decided to name the dog Sheba. I thought it was amusing – my pet ghost now had her own pet.

The day wasn’t a total loss; I discovered a new use for cast iron when my pipe wrench brushed up against one of my phantom wounds. It hurt like hell, but it seemed to draw the pain out of the wound. I almost blacked out from the initial jolt, but it lessened with each successive application. By the time I got home, I looked like I only had a bad case of poison ivy instead of second or third degree burns. I tried it next on the saber wound on my palm – that too was painful, but the wound healed up instantly, leaving just a ghost of a scar.

By the time the preachers dropped me off, Mom was out feeding her bridge addiction which left me in a tub filled with warm water easing my aches. I’d helped a little boy with a problem. Supposedly, this was “good” soreness. Oddly, it felt just as painful as the normal kind, but it apparently was the price of admission for the wild ride that my life was swiftly becoming.

I’d thought about giving Candy a call, because she wanted me to let her know how it went and if I found anything, but we didn’t get back until nine and her shift started at midnight. I settled on sending her a quick email asking if she felt better, letting her know that something did happen and that I was “mostly” fine.

Funny how I always hated baths growing up; once I was old enough to use the shower, I never looked back. It was only during rehab that I was exposed to baths again. I discovered that lying around in a bathtub was a good place to get my thoughts into order and just relax. The world made sense in a tub.

Floating in the bath, I started free-associating, thinking of another tub; a hot tub in Texas to be specific. Heather was very fond of hot-tubs, and I’d been rather fond of Heather. I started comparing Candy with Heather. Beyond the fact that they were both blondes, there wasn’t much to compare. Candy had something upstairs and Heather was, as Don Hodges concluded was “all boobs and no brains.”

Candy was right. I
did
think too much.

I was saved from a further self-examination by a ringing doorbell. Given that it was already ten o’clock at night, it was likely to be important. Sighing, I climb out of the tub and opened the drain. Drying off, I grabbed a terrycloth bathrobe while the doorbell rang again and again.

By the time I got to the living room, whoever it was shifted to rapid knocking. Checking to see the chain was latched, I pulled it slightly open. Jenny Goodman stood out there, looking like a tiny ball of fury. I was reminded of high school when Jimmy Wilkes used to do those little cartoons of the “Taco Bell” dog foaming at the mouth with rabies.

“Yes?”

“You lied to me! You said that you wouldn’t date Candy!”

I’d gotten out of the tub for this? I wondered whether she drove by this morning and saw Candy’s car still here. “I thought you weren’t supposed to be seen with me? Did you get your aunt and uncle’s approval for this visit?”

Candy’s comment about the women in her family seemed to be right on target. Reluctantly, I unlatched the door.

“She’s not right for you! She’s just going to use you and toss you away!” Jenny protested.

“Use me for what? My fame? My fortune? Get over yourself, Jenny. You drove all the way over here just to tell me off? Candy drove five hours up here to take a chance on me and didn’t even know if I was dating anyone.”

“That’s because she’s a slut!” Jenny exclaimed.

“If she was a slut, she could have picked up some guy locally and saved herself the trip. Is this about her, or is it about you and me?”

“Bastard!”

I didn’t argue the point – while the law considered me perfectly legitimate, over the years I’d ripened into someone I wasn’t always proud to be; if she’d gone with “son of a bitch”, I’d have taken issue, though.

“Grow up, Jenny. Was I supposed to wait around and see if you were going to grow a spine and stand up to your family? You’re not in high school anymore. It’s obvious that
you
don’t run your life. Come back when you do.”

Jenny maturely gave me the finger and stormed off. I responded by slamming the door. Surprised at the anger in my rant, I stomped back to the couch, blaming my outburst on my injuries and not my confused feelings for Jenny.

Maybe Jenny Goodman wasn’t the only one fighting self-delusion.

Episode 5: The Big Score

The most successful people describe themselves as “hungry.” They use phrases like “I wanted it bad enough” or “I never stopped pushing myself.”