10 Lunch Stop, Cemetery Ghosts, and Minions
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John glanced at the dashboard clock. He took a deep breath, held it, and let the air out slowly. More than an hour into their trip and he was still fighting to control his tension. It helped the Five heading south was light on traffic. And so far…so far…no one had said or done anything to trigger an actual felony, but, as Rube might say, the trip was still young, and he was well aware the ingredients were volatile. Reggie and Grace had done some talk about their plans for San Francisco, but since settled into their own thoughts. Reggie watched the roadside landscape drift by. Grace looked out straight ahead, at her future perhaps, rolling towards her. Joy was quiet, which surprised him a bit. George was dozing right in front of where Joy sat looking out the window. This was the longest and closest the two had been together…ever in his estimation. He had some ideas about how to handle the situation as it unfolded. They were due for lunch soon and that would allow him to talk with George outside the earshot of their tag alongs. He watched for a Denny's - always a good reaper staple.
They neared Longview. George perked up getting that look signaling an early start to the expected hurdles he was pretty sure upper management intended to place on their way to their destination. She picked up the map and then sought his eyes. He nodded and said, "Lunch? Denny's is coming up."
"Sounds good."
Her phone tone sounded. She picked up but did not put it on speaker. All she gave away were a few OK's and huh huh's before disconnecting.
He had given Reggie a lot of the detail from their first trip down to LA so she suspected something was up. Reggie leaned forward and asked, "What's the news?"
George looked at him and then turned back toward her and said, "We're going to stop at this Denny's for lunch, and then I've got some business to tend to in Vancouver so we'll stay there for two nights. Or maybe a nice hotel down in Portland. How's that sound?"
He was surprised. Already the pattern was broken from the trip to LA. "Two nights in one place? That's different."
Joy must have decided she had been quiet long enough. "Planning to murder someone? Maybe send a soul or two into Hell?"
He and Reggie had already had some words about these likely Joy incursions to disrupt harmony and were agreed that she was the best one to confront and stamp them out in so far as that might be possible. "Mom. You know how it works."
"Just so you do too, and you stay away."
Amen. He agreed with her on that. He exited and pulled into a Shell station to fill up before they crossed over to the Denny's. Once in the parking lot he and George held back for a huddle while the others piled out and walked in to get a table. The others out of earshot he opened. "Why don't we get a nice hotel down in Portland, right in the downtown area, and we, or you, can take care of business while they focus on more important things, like their shopping?"
George nodded, all business. "I agree." She held up her phone and showed him a hotel. They were in sync for sure. "Just head straight for this one. The…Heathman…and get two nights. Maybe two rooms. You and Reggie and three in a second? We need to keep them away from business."
Grace exited, fixed her eyes on him, and walked over. They stopped talking and both turned to face her. She said, "You're being a little too obvious about this."
He put on his blandest expression. "What's that?"
She did a magnified eye roll that included her entire head. "Do you think we're idiots? What's the deal?"
George left to go inside and he slow walked with Grace. "She needs to do her business while we all stay out of the way. There's no point in any of us getting close."
"OK. I get it, but so much secrecy?"
"The less any of us know the better."
"OK. OK. But, John, don't be so obvious about it, OK?"
"Grace, I plan to stay as far away as I possibly can."
"Is it that bad?"
"Yes. It is. Trust me." She looked skeptical. "Come on. Rube's group specializes in murders, suicides, and accidents. Those are always hard and messy and sometimes…"
"I get that. I've seen crime scenes, or well real pictures of crime scenes, uncensored. I'm all grown up and I'm not going to lose it over a little blood."
He studied her. She wasn't listening to him. She wasn't able to listen to him and he did not know how to get through to her. He had just a taste of what George went through and it left him wanting to walk away. "I know you get it. Just keep in mind that she is dead. She and they are part of something we're not even supposed to know about. It's supposed to happen outside of our awareness and sticking our noses into their work can only complicate things."
"OK. But I think the correct term is undead. She's undead. But OK. I get it. I really do." She smiled. "Let's go inside before Joy suspects us of plotting to dump her somewhere."
He smiled. "Careful. That's my future mother-in-law." He paused and broadened his grin more. "You have someplace in mind?"
She frowned but it turned into a smile. She opened the door, and they entered. Joy and Reggie were seated at a table. George must be in the restroom. He went to the restroom too and Grace joined the others.
Once they were all seated a waitress came over. George's phone sounded. They started ordering while George finished up a hurried conversation with someone. It wasn't Rube. She was more polite, no not family. Reggie turned to George and asked, "So, what's the plan?"
"We're going to check into a hotel in downtown Portland. I will go to a few meetings and then the day after tomorrow…afternoon…late afternoon we'll get back on the highway."
Joy frowned, but said nothing. It worked for him. He looked up to see a Black man enter, average height, maybe 30 years old. He stood looking around. No one seemed to notice him or offered to seat him. It was uncanny how they could walk among the living unseen. George caught sight of him and raised her hand. He was going to join them? But no. George picked up her coffee and nodded towards the counter where there were several empty seats. The man joined her. They said a few words and she turned until she caught his eye. She said nothing, but John understood the invitation and he left the table to join them.
He shook hands with the man. "Hi, I'm John."
"Glad to meet you, John. Tom." He paused a bit and looked at George. "I heard you all were getting involved with the living, but…this seems to be…extreme." Tom looked back at the table. John looked back too and the three sitting there were not talking. Three faces intently watched them at the counter. Not obvious at all.
George took a deep drink from her cup. She nodded towards a waitress with a pot, who poured her more. "We all have our crosses to bear. So, Tom. How can I help you? Rube said you have a problem."
"How's Rube doing? Been awhile. You know I worked Seattle with him…back in the 80's before I got moved down here."
"So maybe you know Roxy?"
"Sure do."
"Well, she and he are together."
"Yeah. I saw that coming." He chuckled. "Well. Couple a things. One is an old cemetery down in Vancouver. It's got some lost souls I'm supposed to give you support for clean up."
"Why now?"
"Don't know. None of us can hold them over distance. They see a reaper coming and off they go like rabbits. They don't do any harm, but I got word…time for them to pass over. And you'd be coming to do it."
"OK. And the other?"
"Well, we don't get a lot of nasty crime down here. Not like the really big cities. We got something going down tomorrow early morning…fast moving…high profile…several deaths…tough for us to handle. Bit surprised when I was informed you would be the reaper…sure could use your skills."
"No problem."
"Great." He looked back. "Won't keep you." He handed her a postit with a telephone number, shook hands, and said, "Let me know when you're settled in. Maybe the clean up late this afternoon early evening? And we can go over the job for tomorrow."
She looked at the number on the postit for a couple of seconds, and nodded to him. He left smiling at the three sitting at their table and as he walked by he did a slight bow and said, "Ladies…have a nice day."
He and George rejoined the table just in time for their orders to arrive. George said, "Look's great. I'm starved."
Reggie looked from him to George and back again. "So what's the two days for?"
The cross currents here were going to pull him down. He wanted to find a way to keep Reggie out of it, but she was looking at her sister for an answer. And George was the big sister, appearances aside.
George fiddled with her sugars and reached for the cream. "Aren't you all planning on shopping this evening?"
He didn't like the sound of that. But he suspected where she was going.
Joy did too. "No. We won't be shopping. We will be eating in some nice restaurant, while you go do your business."
George poured her cream and said, "OK then."
Reggie said, "You, Mom, you can eat in some nice restaurant. I want to hear what George has going down." Those words made him inwardly wince. Moths to a flame.
"Well, I don't want to interfere with your plans. I can't help what I've got to be doing, but you all should have some fun." She sprinkled salt on her french fries…without looking up.
Grace sought his eyes and narrowed her own. She knew there was something below the surface. She asked, "So if we don't go to a restaurant, what might we be doing?"
"Nothing interesting. It's going to be boring. John and I will be gathering up a few ghosts lingering at some old cemetery." She caught him looking her way and added, "I suspect it will go down pretty much the same way as what we did in that ghost town in California last year. It occurs to me we should play it the same way, too. I'll stay hidden. You drive up. I show myself and by then it's too late for them."
He nodded. Ghosts saw something radiating off reapers that he and reapers could not. To a ghost reapers looked very different from the living, which is why a normal reaper had difficulty catching an alert experienced ghost, a ghost, for example, who did not want to cross over. "Fine with me. I drive in, you pop up, catch them, cross 'em and then back to the hotel." He could see what she was up to. He waited, the hook was baited.
Reggie asked, "And why can't we go?"
George said, "You could. I just wanted to save you from boredom. There won't be anything to see. And if you do see them, you will regret it." She looked his way.
He took his cue. "Yeah, I could live without the memories of those zombie ghosts. The ones you see in the movies are prettied up."
Joy was grimacing. "We do not need to see any such thing, or go near it…"
"Mom, you can stay in the hotel…and watch a movie. Grace and I will go along."
Grace was not looking to John like she felt the need to go along. But if Reggie went she would too. And he guessed one of two things would happen. It would be so tedious that they would beg not to be involved in any more reaps, or by the time they dragged them back to their room sometime in the AM they would not want to get up until late morning, and by then the high profile job would be done. And there was the possibility, maybe if George let them, after seeing a real ghost zombie stumble toward them in the twilight…that they would rent a car and head for home. Those images really did come back to him in his dreams. In the movies you know it's fake. But having an up and about half decayed skeleton with rotten flesh up close enough to touch you, that is something you just don't forget.
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Late afternoon they left Tom well outside the cemetery, one called Park Hill, and drove in through the main gate. The sun wouldn't be setting for at least an hour, but a little late for any of the living to be out and about. Getting too late for visitors, too early for night time lurkers. He would rather that Joy had stayed behind, but she insisted on coming along. Reggie was up front with him, and Grace and Joy in the first bench seat. George was in her hoodie and covered head to toe, she had pulled her hands up into her sleeves, down on the floor one seat behind.
John said, "You know, George, Ray would be really useful right now. Collecting a little intelligence so we know what we're going to meet."
She sounded muffled, a disembodied voice rising from the back. "He can't drive, and besides you can see them."
"Remember ladies. Don't do or say anything to show we have a reaper hidden. We want to get this done the first time."
Joy said, "Why is she hidden? And if we can't see them or hear them what difference would it make?"
John said, "They can see and hear you just fine. And Ray told me there's something about a reaper that a ghost can tell the difference on sight versus one of the living. If they see her straight on they will be gone and our time here wasted cause they won't be fooled twice."
George said from the back, "I'm not sure about that."
"I think we should take him at his word. It makes sense to me. And George we only got one chance at this so you should stay hidden."
"OK. OK."
He drove slowly through the narrow paved paths. Typical cemetery. "George. It's very open. A few trees. Stones well spaced. I'm guessing because it's so centrally located in the city it makes a good meeting place." He intended to go to the farthest reaches from the entrance. If he were a ghost that would be attractive to him to hang out in. "OK, I see one at my 2 O'Clock. She sees us, but not coming closer." He drove on a bit more. "And I see a second directly in front. Not slowing down. Hey, uhh, George. What happens if I drive the SUV through one and I, me, hit them? I mean they pass through the SUV and hit me driving?"
George's muffled voice came up from behind the seat. "Yeah, John. That would be inconvenient. Try not to do that." She paused. "John, are they coming closer?"
"No. Not at all. We must be routine to them." He saw three over 20 yards to his left. "George, maybe those ones in that ghost town were bored silly and that's why they all came over when I drove in."
"That would make sense."
"I've seen maybe half a dozen. How many you supposed to collect?"
"Twenty two."
"Once you show yourself it's all over. The rest won't be fooled again with this SUV. I have an idea."
"I'm listening."
"We stop in the middle or maybe towards the deeper side - away from any entrances. If I were a ghost that's where I would hover around, and I get out."
"And?"
"I'll talk to them. I bet you it'll spread like a wildfire and we'll have every ghost here within minutes."
"Works for me. I want to get back to some coffee."
"Yeah know, George, you may have an unhealthy addiction to caffeine."
"My doctor says I need to lay off it, I know, anyway. Let's get this going. Give me the signal when I should start holding them."
So far their three hangers on had behaved well. He was afraid it wasn't boring at all. And now that he was going to draft them into active participation…well. "OK, guys, we are going to stop and go visit a random stone within about five steps from the SUV. Don't do or say anything to…"
Grace was getting impatient. "We got it, John, we're not imbeciles."
"OK. George, I'm leaving the windows open so you can hear the signal."
He pulled to a stop and they all exited. He walked to the first stone and waited as they gathered. Sure enough one ghost came close. Not a zombie, thank God, and hovered close by. John looked directly at him and asked, "Who might you be, sir?"
The ghost caught his gaze and stared at him in disbelief. "You can see me?"
"Yes, I can. My name is John." Grace, Joy, and Reggie looked where he was looking but, of course, could not see anything. Their eyes were about as wide as they could get.
"My name is Theodore, Theodore Montgomery." He came closer. "How can you see me, and hear me?"
"I can, Ted. Can I call you Ted?"
"Yes, yes you can. Don't go anywhere." The ghost named Ted raced off. "It's working. Ted is out recruiting friends." It didn't take long. Soon John could see several more heading his way. He went through the same interaction a few more times as each had to overcome the initial disbelief which then became excitement at his appearance among them. The process snowballed with the number of ghosts swelling into a mob. Within 10 minutes there were at least 30 ghosts either close by trying to get his attention or heading their way. There were only a few zombie types and those were being led by more normal ghosts, those who had been reaped. He put his hands up. A wave of guilt came over him. These people were so trusting, so thrilled that someone from among the living could see and hear them, and he was about to bring down a fate that each for their own reasons did not want. He raised his voice and said, "I bring a message from Gabriel." And with those words George reached out and held the whole of them in place. There were a few moments of confusion readable on their faces, but then the realization spread among the gathered throng that they were trapped. Then, my God, then the shrieking began. They did not understand the invisible force holding them in place and it terrified them. He put his hands to his ears, but there were so many and it was so loud. George pulled herself up and exited the SUB. At first sight of George those several who had been quiet now joined in. They knew exactly what she was. In their minds things had just gone from bad to catastrophic. And then abruptly there was silence. George stepped forward. She held them in place and shut them up.
He pulled his hands away from his ears and took a deep breath as he looked around at the gathered faces. Fear was what he saw on most faces. They were terrified. They had all forgotten about him and focused on George.
Grace, Reggie, and Joy looked from side to side. All they could see was him wincing with his hands to his ears and then George acting oddly talking to the air. She was a bit stature challenged and maybe they all couldn't see her clearly. She walked around to the front of the SUV and clambered up onto the hood. She stood and put her hands up and said, "I'm not here to hurt any of you. And I will not force you to cross over, but I will make sure each of you is of sound mind and can choose." She looked down to him. "Let's get started. This is a lot more than Tom thought or I got a line on from upstairs." She got down off the hood.
George did not allow the three to see anything. At first they were watching with interest a very one sided exchange George carried on with empty air. However, talking to empty air lacked anything remotely stimulating and they grew bored. Tom walked up soon after the first cross over lights revealed some success. But soon the three were sitting in the SUV. He watched keeping count. All but one so far had elected to cross over.
After an hour they were about half way through. John had moved to the driver's seat from where he tallied up the numbers. Tom took the seat next to him. The three untainted members of the living were ready to return before the count got up to ten. John noticed a man walking toward them who he was sure not of the ghost kind. He nudged Tom.
Tom said, "I know him. Don't worry." He paused exiting and said, "Just to be safe why don't you get these three up and over that gravestone?" He got out and started walking towards the man.
John said, "OK. You guys. You're on. Let's visit with some gravestone. And make it look and sound good."
They placed themselves around a stone. Grace improvised with some tears. Tom engaged the man in low conversation and kept him off and away from the grieving relatives. Satisfied, the man left, and the crisis passed. They got back into the SUV.
Grace said, "It's a good thing he didn't get too close."
John looked back. She said, "The guy in that grave died more than 60 years ago."
Another hour and George was finished. He had lost count due to the grounds guy approaching. George believed her final tally was well over 30 crossing. The few who declined, true to her word, she allowed to go on their way. Off to the side, he and George had their talk with Tom about the job tomorrow, now two jobs, a big one in the morning and a small one early afternoon. Mission accomplished they drove back to the hotel. Then the weary band all marched off to a restaurant recommended by the hotel. No one was remotely interested in attending tomorrow's reaps.
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The morning of the second day after their cemetery adventure John knocked on the other hotel room door. Joy opened up and returned to her chair at a small table where she had the local newspaper spread out. The shower was running. Joy said over her shoulder, "Grace and Reggie are out…and…she is in the shower." He had noticed on this little trip that Joy never referred to George by name if she could at all help it and so far she could. It was now always her or she. He thought that was progress. Not so long ago the pronoun of choice was just 'it'. So getting all the way to a gender implied some real shift in her prejudice against reapers in general and the one that was her daughter in particular.
Reggie and he had most of their stuff packed and waiting in their room. They all would have lunch here in the hotel or maybe someplace within walking distance before checking out. It looked like George and maybe Grace hadn't done much in the way of packing. Better not to push. He sat down at the table with Joy and took a look at the newspaper. Christ. The front page had yesterday's big morning reap all over it. As expected it turned out very messy, bloody, people died and souls were collected. George reaped several of the victims and later followed and collected the soul of one of the criminals at their refuge just before he died of gunshot wounds. It was a miracle the three stooges got away at all. He expected it wouldn't be long before the other two were run down and either dead or in custody. The shower stopped.
He raised his eyes to see Joy watching him intently. "Is that her work?" Her eyes indicated the main headline story.
Odd way to put it, but he understood. "Yes." He pointed to the headlines and story. "She did all of them. Required a lot of ghosting up close and then there was one of the bad guys who died well away from that site." He scanned quickly. If they got him or them, it couldn't be in here yet. He wasn't sure. "His end…probably too late to make this news."
Her eyes narrowed. She was looking at him as if she suspected him of being a demon, or maybe an associated minion to a demon, and therefore on the wrong team. She picked up another page. She pointed to a picture of a small boy. He could see the story heading. The boy was last seen being picked up by a strange man. Neighborhood rallied and were out looking for him. Police searching for a car…partial license plate. "And this one?"
She more shoved than pushed it across the table in front of him and he read a few more details. Yeah, it was the same kid. Joy was the wrong one to overshare these inside details with. He met her eyes and the intensity with which she locked onto him made him really sure of that insight. The kid was already dead. Something about the way Joy glared at him made him flee towards discretion as refuge. It oddly also made him feel guilty. He was surprised how in less than a year he had become comfortable with his dual role - one side with his detective hat on and another side of him actively in the know about crimes and that compartmental wall was something so flimsy that Joy, with just a look, could obliterate it making him feel complicit in the crimes themselves. He shrugged and reached for the entertainment section. Maybe they could talk about anything in this section, which he was sure wouldn't overlap with George and her work.
Joy was not cooperating. "John. Is this her work, too?" She pointed again at the kid's picture.
"Joy." He really didn't know what to say. He could see in her eyes that telling her anything was dangerous, mostly for her. If she were ever tempted to act on anything she overheard…well…he was well aware how quickly that upstairs power could schedule an appointment for someone among the living who had decided to overshare outside approved circles.
George walked out of the bathroom in a fluffy white hotel bathrobe drying her hair with a generously sized towel. She saw Joy pointing to the picture in the newspaper and probably from the look on his face guessed his situation. Joy turned to her and held the section with the kid's picture up. "Is this your doing?" It crossed his mind that the second person pronoun did not have gender. Must make it easy for Joy on those rare occasions when she just had to address one of the undead.
"You mean did I reap him? Yes. He crossed over yesterday and it was not long after he was grabbed." She walked over to the window, took a quick look outside, and headed back inside the bathroom.
Joy, perhaps judging she wouldn't be getting anywhere with the demon itself, or herself, turned back to him, the minion, still among the living. "You could have stopped this."
He took that as a statement, not a question.
She continued, "You call yourself a policeman?"
Now that was in the form of a question, but it really leaned toward rhetorical. And it looked a lot like a bear trap and he wasn't about to step into it.
George emerged again. She was fiddling with the hair dryer unwinding the cord. "The kid had an appointment. I didn't have a choice and neither did John, and besides John was nowhere nearby." She turned to go back inside.
He heard the lock on the room door click and open. Grace led the way inside followed by Reggie and they carried a few shopping bags. Joy's face communicated to Reggie there was trouble brewing. Reggie looked at him. John raised his eyebrows and signaled towards the paper with his eyes. Reggie walked over near to the table and took in the headlines on the front page and then the kid's picture. She veered away and dropped her bags on one of the beds and sat down facing them at the table. She smiled his way. "John. Any ideas for lunch?"
Grace followed Reggie to the table where she saw the headlines and also sized things up. "We were thinking…."
Joy broke in. Her voice brittle trending shrill. "What? What if this?" She held the paper up to the little boy's picture. "What if this were Tommy? Tell me, John. Would you have stood by and done nothing while…God knows what happened to him? His parents and the police think this little boy is still alive. They're waiting for a ransom call." She was near breaking.
Grace opened her mouth to say something, but Reggie beat her to it. "Let's talk about something where we do have a choice. Like lunch."
John decided to retreat. His distant ancestor, and a still extent one at that, Rube, had a certain wisdom about these things. He stood and walked out stepping over the bear trap on the way out the door.
