Carl is not mine, but I'm borrowing him for this story. This was a personal challenge I gave myself to write a short story consisting of mostly dialogue, with minimal action. Enjoy! And then after that, please review :-)

Grain of Salt

by SpunSilk

"Greetings – traveler."

I spun around, startled. But no one was there. "Hello?"

"Please don't be alarmed. I –" the voice fell silent.

I wasn't alone. I rose silently from where I had been squatting, examining the rocks by flashlight, and scanned the shadows at the back of the cave. Caves gave me the creeps in the best of circumstances, and isolated-in-a-remote-cave was not the best of circumstances. Blast it all! Frack the oil company I was reporting on! And their new drilling plan as well! I scanned the cave entrance, some 100 feet away, and mentally calculated how long it would take to sprint out.

But my curiosity had been piqued; my damnable reporter's curiosity that has gotten me in trouble so often. The voice had gone silent again. I strained in vain to see into the inky darkness of the cave as it deepened to black beyond the reach of my eyes, and I aimed the flashlight beam as far as it would reach into the darkness. It did not bounce back.

The voice had sounded like that of a young woman, but there was no one to be seen. Not seen; but not gone either, I'd wager. "Show yourself." I ordered, eyeing the shadows. My voice echoed slightly in the stone hollow.

"I... " The voice seemed to come suddenly from over my other shoulder. I whirled. "Please don't be alarmed," it pleaded. "No harm will come to you! Please! I just need...! Don't run... please..."

Extraordinary! The woman's voice held no natural echo. The tone was 'dead' on my ears, something that I immediately associated with the Odd Stuff. My heart rate responded immediately. Damn – here we go again. "Nobody's running." I said cautiously. "Talk."

A relieved sigh sounded. I still couldn't place the direction. "It's been so long. I... hardly remember... how."

"Who are you?"

"Christina... Barton. That's my name..."

"Why can't I see you?"

"I – I don't want to frighten..."

"I told you; nobody's running, Honey. Show yourself."

For a while, nothing happened. Then slowly a figure pulled into focus. Small she was, dressed simply in a light green frock; she was transparent. She walked forward and gazed up at me with a wide open expression of hope and relief. "Can it be true? Are you willing – to hear me?"

"Hearing costs nothing," I said evenly. "What are you? A ghost?"

"Yes, I–...that's right."

"Odd place for a spirit to hang out, here under all this rock." She seemed confused by my comment, and did not answer. "Take your time." I said.

She seemed to collect her thoughts. "You're very kind. I could tell when I –saw you... I knew this one was – different. I was moved to speak."

"What are you doing down here?"

"I have been here – for years. Generations. I am... I am hostage here."

"Hostage?"

"I was Bound here. Years ago."

"Bound?! By what?"

"By an enemy." her face clouded with a memory. "I have watched from under the rock. So many people, generations, pass by and I held my tongue. A silent – spectator." Her face showed discomfort. "I spoke to no one, what would... it bring me?

I studied her in the dim light from the cave entrance. "After all these years, all the people you say have passed by this spot, why me? Why talk to me?"

"I reasoned you could handle the contact. I noticed...I was attracted by... your aura."

I scowled. "Oh. You're from there."

"All of us are 'from there' on some level," her eyes smiled. "I can – read you... I can feel you are – kind hearted. Would be saddened by my imprisonment..."

"What does 'bound' mean to a spirit? I can understand physical restraint, but... can't you just... ah, float away?" I asked light-heartedly, trying to put her at ease.

She shook her head. "You are governed by physical laws, we by other laws. Umm... Imagine you were chained at the ankles with a short length of chain - around a pole. You'd be able to stand, move a bit. But not free yourself. You would be as helpless as I. Do you... understand?"

I waited for more, but silence followed. Poor thing. "The way you describe it, doesn't sound pleasant."

"It's claustrophobic, in a word. And I've been here – so long! I can read you... I'm hoping against hope you will help me." she spoke pleadingly.

"Help you? Me? I got no special powers to move poles. Or chains."

She smiled broadly at me. "You are far too modest. You have many qualities; you are very brave, and have an openness – you're not scared by seeing the real world. Most important, you have a character that wants to help. And, you have a physical body that can do the freeing procedure. Will you help me? I have just this one shot at freedom–"

"One shot? Why?"

"You are... um... uniquely suited to help me."

"Uniquely? I don't understand."

"It's complicated to explain... You could... think lock-in-key. The forces are – correct. Your force lines... It would work. You could break the Binding. You could free me."

"If I choose to. What does this involve on my part?"

"A simple procedure, nothing complicated. Remember cutting the thread off the neck of the doll of Madam Terevi? Like that. A simple act that had a strong metaphysical effect."

My eyes narrowed and I didn't answer. Cold water raced through my veins. "I do remember. I also remember burning a box of trinkets from the wall chest of her office. That also moved mountains."

"Another example, yes." she readily agreed.

"In that case, I had been duped," my tone intensified. "I had been told I was helping, and what actually happened was; I was loosening an evil."

"My point is; the act was simple for you to perform–"

"And my point is; I was used." The ice water in my veins was getting sour with this memory. She said nothing in the force of my reaction. Silence hung between us. "I'm here to tell you, Lady: that stung."

"I can see that," she answered meekly, with wide eyes.

"Where did you hear about this thread on the doll?" I fixed her with a piercing stare.

"I am sensitive to the thoughts of mortals near this place. You were thinking of the incident."

"No." I toned – in a voice as cold and hard as the stone around me, "I wasn't."

She faltered. "Of course you were. On some level you were, otherwise how...?"

"You could have another source of knowledge."

"Well, wouldn't I know if I did?"

"You could know and not tell."

"Why would–

"Tell me about this Binding of yours. Now!"

"It– it was long ago–"

"When?! Who? How? And why." I asked, leaning in towards her.

"Wh- ...around 1650. So long– I've been so lonely –"

"In 1650 there were no Europeans in this part of the Plains."

"I'm – native."

"You don't look it," I said flatly.

With a ripple in the light, her eyes took on an almond shape and her hair switched to jet black. Her green frock corrected itself to a raw-hide tunic. "I just wanted to look as much like you as possible– I thought it would – give me the best chance of you not bolting– until you had heard me out–"

"Ah! So you can change your form at will! Handy, that."

"Forgive me! I wasn't trying to deceive. But this is so incredibly important–"

"Who Bound you here? Why?"

"It was – the witch-doctor... from my tribe... He was angry because I resisted his sexual advances. He killed me here, then cursed–"

My eyebrows raised. Sexual advances was an interesting term for the 1650s. "Natives don't have witch-doctors. They have medicine-men."

Her eyes filled with tears. "Why are you speaking so harshly to me?"

"Once burned; twice shy, Sugar." My gaze was calculating. "Didn't have your story all thought-out ahead of time, did you? Damsel in distress, unjust imprisonment; how tempting for me...

A flash of green light, almost too quick to register on my eyes in the dim light, danced in my peripheral vision.

I continued, "I think it's best you stay buried under the rock."

Wild desperation filled her face. "It doesn't matter what I am, but maybe what I can do for you! Friend! Okay. Okay. If altruism won't move you, how about self-interest? I'm sure we can come to... some manner of... mutual agreement." She looked at me significantly.

I chuckled. "You will find I'm very hard to bribe," I said smugly. "I've seen too much in life – and because of that, I have a real good perspective of exactly how useful money is in the big picture."

"Alright. What about that Pulitzer?!"

I scowled, offended at the implication. "I'll get that on merit, thank you very much. Face it, you don't have the coin to get me to–"

Her eyes narrowed. "What if I offered you... a de-magnetization?"

This threw me for a second. "A what?"

"De-magnetization," she repeated with a voice holding the smooth seduction of hot fudge. "This is the truth: I can do that for you."

She had my full attention now. I eyed her skeptically for a few beats in silence before answering. "You've got the gall. You don't have the authority to make an offer like that to me."

"Oh, but I do. You think I can't see? How would I know about your ... 'problem' otherwise? Think about it! Think!" she tempted. "You'd be free. Free from all the Odd Stuff!"

I stared at her with a slack jaw as what she was saying sank in. Free? The invisible force-lines I carried, gone? Was it even possible? I would be no longer be bush-whacked by every spirit, monster, or what-have-you that ambled past me unseen in the Ether. Free to live a life like other people. Actually live out a normal life-span and not be cut down in my prime by the monster-of-the-week because I made some small miscalculation – as was bound to happen at some point; nobody's luck holds out forever. Mine was already stretched beyond reason.

Free. The nightmare could end. I could return to reporting on normal crime – humans only. I could die peacefully in bed, as an old man. I was sorely tempted. Hell, I'd be lying through my teeth to claim I wasn't. "How would this be accomplished?" I asked cautiously.

"Through a lot of metaphysics you have neither the time nor the sophistication to understand," she answered smoothly. "Not to worry, it's not painful. You didn't feel it happen when you were magnetized either, did you now?"

I could be ordinary. I could stop this madness. She was offering me my life back. I was in shock. My gut ached to say yes. This was too cruel; the one thing in life I actually wanted, paired with the one thing in life I just could not do.

"What's your answer?" she pressed, feeling her advantage.

"Show me what you really look like."

She shifted uncomfortably. "Now, now. Mr. Kolchak. What use would that be? We are both creatures of the world, you and I. You yourself know how unimportant appearances are!"

"True," I answered. "Both of us know that character is all we really have. Let's examine what I know of yours, shall we? Withholding secrets, blatant deception, and tip-toeing through my past without permission... How are we doing?"

"Negotiate with me in this form. I'll not take another."

"Afraid I'd be shocked?"

"Frankly, yes. My offer is real and I will stand behind my promise if you agree. That's all that should concern you."

My head swam with the force of it all. She was offering me a way out of this hell-hole life of mine. But at what price? "So you're asking me to just transfer the problem. I get my life back, but someone somewhere has to deal with your fury once you are released. My nightmare would just become somebody else's."

"Don't concern yourself with them, you don't even know them! If it helps you any, they're not even human. It's as far removed from you as you can imagine. Or can't imagine. I can offer the removal of your magnetic force-lines. Just do as I instruct you – and it's yours. The choice is that simple."

"It is simple," I responded, nodding. My head knew the answer, but my gut groaned with rebellion under the decision. "No."

With a hand holding down my hat, I sprang for the opening of the cave like the proverbial Bat-outta-Hell. A frustrated, monstrous roar rang out behind me, and echoed in my ears as I flew past the cave's entrance.

Once I was at a comfortable distance –which was quite a ways– I hazarded a glance back. The interior of the cave seemed to glow with a lime green light that pulsed with fury. I took a deep breath before turning my back on a cave I knew I would never enter again in my life.

Regrets? I don't know. Maybe. I had done this to myself, after all. Now the next time I faced the Odd Stuff – and I was sure there would be a next time – I couldn't grouse. I couldn't say bad luck or anybody else was to blame; now it was on me. My choice.

I didn't make the easy choice, although I was fairly sure it was the right one. For the Big Picture thing, you know... Still... I headed back toward the Mustang with heavy steps. I didn't know if the next time the Odd Stuff happened would be the time I miscalculated. I didn't even know how it would have turned out if I'd said yes.

The only thing I knew for certain was this; I had firm plans for that evening. I needed a drink. Quite possibly more than one.