Hogarth's thought was proven right fairly quickly. In the two weeks since he had first arrived in San Francisco, every business that was looking to hire had fiercely rejected him because of his criminal record. To make matters worse, his inability to find a job made his mother get harder on him about it.

Hogarth began classes the week after he arrived at Golden Gate High School. The only friend he made since he arrived was a boy named Ron Alexander, but they haven't grown that close.

Ron had proven to not be helpful in helping Hogarth find a job, which is why Hogarth was ignoring what he was saying at lunch one afternoon. He sat at the table across from Ron, face buried in the help wanted ads.

"Why are you reading that here?" Ron asked.

"You try to get my mother to stop pestering me about finding a job," Hogarth said.

"I'd be happy to."

"She's a cop, numbskull: I was being sarcastic."

"You didn't tell me that before."

"I didn't think I had to!" Hogarth said, throwing the paper down. "It's bad enough that I had to leave New York and come here, and now, I have to find a job that my criminal record won't deny me!"

Ron didn't say anything. He took another bite out of his cheeseburger.

Hogarth looked around and spotted a girl talking with her friends at a nearby table. She was beautiful. Her red hair was like a crown of roses that sat upon her head and her eyes were bluer than the sky itself-

Hogarth snapped out of his thoughts the moment he realized just how disturbing they were. She glanced over and smiled at him, prompting him to smile back, before turning back to her friends.

"I can't believe you just did that," Ron said with a smirk as he looked down at his food, helping himself to the rest of his meal.

"Who is that girl?"

"Samantha Molgan - prefers to be called Sam," Ron said. "She's the most beautiful girl in school. Every single guy here wants to date her, but they've never lasted long."

"Why? Did they do something they shouldn't have?"

"No idea. But she's an enigma. Nothing is known about her outside of school. She keeps her personal life to herself. No one knows what her family's like."

"Abusive parents?"

"Maybe. But you don't stand a chance of asking her out. The other guys won't let you get within fifteen feet of her."

Hogarth rolled his eyes and continued eating, glancing down at the help wanted ads.

~GB~

Hogarth stepped off the bus and found himself standing in front of the San Francisco Institute of Science. Looking down, he read the job listing on the paper:

Help Wanted

San Francisco Institute of Science, Paranormal Studies Department

No experience necessary - Must be capable of cleaning surfaces, keeping books in order, and recording information.

Contact Dr. Constance Rachlyn to apply

Hogarth sighed and put the newspaper in his pocket and headed towards the Humanities Building. This was the last job in the help wanted ads that he hadn't applied for yet. If he didn't get the job, he didn't want to think of what his mother would say.

Entering the building, Hogarth walked down to the basement level. He almost missed the door for the Paranormal Studies Lab because there was no plaque for it: The name was taped right to the door.

Hogarth pushed the door open and stepped inside. The lab was a mess. Weird devices scattered the various surfaces. He passed a bookshelf filled with several books about the paranormal, including Tobin's Spirit Guide, Ghosts from Our Past: Both Literally and Figuratively: The Study of the Paranormal, and Ramis's Encyclopedia Spiritannica.

"Hello?" Hogarth called out.

"Who is it?" a voice replied.

"My name is Hogarth Strange. I'm here about the ad you placed in the newspaper."

A woman came around a large contraption a moment later. If it hadn't been for the faint accent in her voice, Hogarth never would have guessed she was Brazilian. Her golden blonde hair was grouped in a ponytail, and she wore glasses over her brown eyes. She wore a lab coat with the institute's logo on it and a necklace made of small metal chain links.

"When can you start working?" she asked.

"When do you need me?" Hogarth replied.

"Right now."

Hogarth stared at her, stunned. He could not believe what he just heard. She hired him right on the spot, and he had only walked in the door seconds ago.

"You're hiring me?" he asked, glancing back briefly at the door behind him. "Just like that?"

"Do you have any idea how hard it has been for us to find someone willing to help us?"

The woman turned away and walked back behind the contraption.

"The only reason I'm here is because no one will hire me. I'm a former street racer and a recidivist!" Hogarth exclaimed as he followed her.

"Still don't care. You want a job, you have a job."

As Hogarth came around the corner, he saw a man sitting at a nearby workbench, completely focused on whatever contraption he was working with. He was African-American, and he was practically bald. When he turned around, he was wearing goggles with pitch-black lenses. Hogarth could make out a faint mustache above his upper lip.

"I never got your names," he said.

"I'm Dr. Constance Rachlyn," she answered. "This is my assistant professor, Jefferson Edevane. We run the Paranormal Studies Department here at the Institute."

"It's not a big department, is it?"

"Dr. Rachlyn and I are the only ones who teach it," Jefferson said, turning back to his work.

"The tape on the door gave it away," Hogarth pointed out.

Jefferson finished the device he was working on, picked it up, and walked towards the door.

"Constance, we better hustle if we want to meet Mr. Muggins," Jefferson said as he put more equipment into a duffel bag.

"Who's Mr. Muggins?" Hogarth asked.

"Mr. Muggins is the curator of the Old San Francisco Mint," Constance explained. "He claims a ghost attacked several of his security guards."

"A ghost? Seriously? That's ridiculous!"

"Is it?"

"Yes!"

"Will you just come with us?" Jefferson said, grabbing the duffel bag and heading out the door.

Hogarth rolled his eyes and followed them out into the hallway.

"I thought I was just supposed to be the janitor," he said. "Speaking of which, doesn't the school provide one to clean your lab?"

"He refused to clean in there again after one of our devices burned his eyebrows off," Constance explained. "And you also assist us in any capacity as needed. You should have seen that in the ad."

"I don't think the newspaper wanted to put all that into such a tiny space," Hogarth replied, shoving the paper in Constance's face. She looked at it and grumbled something about telling the newspapers exactly what she wanted in the ad.

~GB~

Half an hour later, the taxi cab pulled up to the Old San Francisco Mint. Hogarth grumbled under his breath as he had to get the duffle bag full of Jefferson's equipment out of the trunk.

As the cab pulled away after he slammed the trunk shut, Hogarth looked up and saw a man walking down the steps towards him and the others. He was short, and Hogarth was certain he could see light reflecting off the man's bald head.

"Thank you for coming so quickly, Dr. Rachlyn," the man said, shaking Constance's hand. "I didn't know what else to do."

"Well, when you're dealing with a vaporous full-torso apparition, that happens very often," she replied. "I presume you're Mr. Evan Muggins?"

"Yes, I'm the Mint's curator," he said. "Follow me."

He led them up the stairs to the main entrance. Hogarth strained to lug the heavy bag up the steps. It felt like the bag was full of rocks.

"When I came in this morning, two of my guards were acting as if they were losing their minds. They kept screaming about seeing a ghost. I had to send them to the hospital to get them looked at."

"What exactly did the apparition look like?" Jefferson asked.

"I have no idea," Mr. Muggins said. "They just kept freaking out. One thing they kept saying was 'She's coming for me.'"

"'She?'" Constance asked.

"That's right. Look, we need to get this sorted out quietly. We've been raising funds to turn the Mint into a museum and create permanent exhibits for the past eight years, and we're just months away from opening to the public. If anyone finds out there's a ghost, the museum will be shut down."

"Hang on a moment."

Reaching over, Jefferson took the bag of equipment from Hogarth, whose eyes widened when he saw how effortlessly Jefferson was able to pick the bag up. Jefferson pulled a device out of the bag before handing it back to Hogarth, and it yanked the latter to the floor as if a gorilla had grabbed it from the other side and gave it a good, hard pull.

The device Jefferson had pulled out of the bag was black and rectangular-shaped, with a handle on the bottom. When he pushed a button on it, a green screen lit up and two arms with blinking lights appeared out of the sides.

"What is that?" Hogarth asked as he pulled the bag off the ground and stumbled around for a moment trying to gain his balance.

"It's a PKE meter," Constance explained. "It tells you if there's a ghost nearby."

"How do you even know if it works?"

"Because I put it together," Jefferson answered without looking at Hogarth. "According to these readings…Constance, she's moving."

Constance looked at Mr. Muggins for a moment, then followed Jefferson as he strode down the hall. Hogarth hurried after them, struggling to keep the bag from causing him to topple over.

"Scientists, am I right?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder back at Mr. Muggins, who gave him a confused look.

Hogarth scampered around a corner, nearly knocked onto the ground again from the weight of the bag he was carrying. He ran up to Constance and Jefferson who were looking at the PKE Meter.

"Mind telling me what's on your minds?" he asked.

"Yes," Constance and Jefferson said simultaneously.

Hogarth glared at them, then said, "Okay, then I guess you won't mind if I dropped this bag on the floor. I mean, it sounds like there's a lot of expensive equipment."

"You wouldn't dare," Jefferson said, looking at him.

"I've destroyed a huge chunk of an unfinished neighborhood in a street race," Hogarth said. "Wanna bet I won't do something much less destructive?"

"All right, enough!" Constance said. "Clearly, it's not obvious to you, but we're tracking a ghost."

"Actually it is, not that I believe there is a ghost," Hogarth replied. "What I want to know is what else are you thinking?"

"Alison Hodges was an infamous robber who committed high-stakes heists at the beginning of the last century. She was the most well-known cross-country criminal before Bonnie and Clyde, until she was killed in a nasty fall when she tried to rob this Mint. There have been rumors her ghost still haunts this building."

Hogarth rolled his eyes.

Suddenly, the arms of the PKE Meter rose up, and the device started buzzing loudly.

"Constance," Jefferson said, "something's coming right towards us."

Constance and Hogarth looked up and saw a bright light coming from around a corner up ahead. A moment later, something flew into the hallway in front of them. When the light faded, Hogarth looked up and his eyes widened.

A glowing woman hovered in the air several feet from them. She was wearing a waist coat and tie, along with pants and men's shoes. Her eyes glowed menacingly like hot coals. Hogarth had the feeling the eyes were literally staring into his soul.

"She couldn't tell women and men's garments apart, could she?" he asked.

"You try committing robberies in a dress," Jefferson told him.

"No thanks."

"All right," Constance said, "let's see if we can try communicating with her."

"And who's gonna do that?" Hogarth asked.

No sooner than he said it, Constance and Jefferson both looked at him. Realizing what it meant, Hogarth's eyes went wide.

"WHAT?!" he screamed.

As if provoked by Hogarth's shout, Alison Hodge's ghost suddenly morphed into something more horrific: Brown hair, sharp claws, and a head with no eyes or nose but a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. The creature opened its mouth and let out a roar unlike anything any of them had ever heard before. It was alien, inhuman, and most of all, it was terrifying.

Hogarth suddenly found the bag inexplicably light as he rocketed straight out of the Mint with Constance and Jefferson right behind him, knocking over several pedestrians as they ran.

~GB~

"You just had to spook her, didn't you?" Constance asked sarcastically.

"Her?!" Hogarth replied as he followed her and Jefferson across the Institute's campus. "What about us?! That thing she turned into would have ripped us apart!"

"You don't know that," Jefferson said, looking at the screen of the PKE Meter.

"Oh, and you do? I don't care if what you were trying to do would have been as revolutionary as the moon landing - I'd like to stay alive if you don't mind!"

"A common feature shared among all homo sapiens," Constance said. "Do you even know why we wanted to collect data on that ghost?"

"Do I want to know?"

"Ghosts are a form of being that the world doesn't know much about. By observing them, we can learn a whole lot more."

"You're full of baloney," Hogarth said as he followed Constance and Jefferson down the stairs into the basement of the Humanities Building.

"We're never crazy about our work, Hogarth," Constance said as she opened the door to the Paranormal Studies lab.

The scene they found inside was rather shocking: Institute personnel were taking equipment off the tables and carrying them out of the room. Some were packing items in boxes. In the middle of it was a man dressed in a suit with a pin displaying the Institute's emblem on it.

"President Rogers?" Constance asked. "What's going on here?"

"I thought it was obvious, Dr. Rachlyn," he said, glaring at her. "Your grant and resources have been terminated, and you and your associates are to vacate the Institute's grounds immediately."

"Do you have any idea how hard we've been working here?" Jefferson protested.

"You've been working in a field that has no true benefit to mankind, Dr. Edevane," the President snapped. "Your presence places a dark cloud on this institution's reputation. That is why you do not belong here."

"Are you kidding?" Hogarth complained. "I just got this job today!"

"And another thing!" exclaimed the President. "Hiring a new employee without putting him through the standard employment system, especially after I specifically denied your request to search for employees to assist you!

"You have no place in this institution, and if you have not left the grounds by the time I return, I will have security escort you out by the throat."

With that, the President left the room.

~GB~

"This is very bad, Jefferson," Constance said. "We don't have any funding or resources to back our work. How on Earth are we supposed to be able to continue our research?"

"Who said we were going to?" Jefferson replied as they rounded the corner.

"We've been devoted to this work for years. If we give up now, all our findings will go down the drain."

"You said it yourself, Constance. No funding, no resources, and nobody in San Francisco is going to support the two of us."

"You mean the three of us," Hogarth said.

Jefferson and Constance looked at him.

"Hogarth, what are you still doing here?" Constance asked.

"I'm out of a job, remember?" Hogarth snapped. "This was the only job I could get with my criminal record, and thanks to you, I lost it. Like it or not, I'm sticking with you until we find employment. Besides, it seems like you already accepted it since you never did take this bag from me."

Constance and Jefferson glanced behind him and saw the giant duffel bag he had been lugging with him.

"Listen, Hogarth…," Constance began, but Hogarth cut her off almost immediately.

"Don't even start," he said. "You're stuck with me, like it or not."

As they continued walking, a taxi pulled up next to them. The right side passenger door opened, and a man stepped out and called out to them. He was Black and had a distinct mustache. The suit he wore indicated he was a distinguished businessman.

"Excuse me," he said. "Are you Dr. Constance Rachlyn?"

"Yes, that's me," she answered. "Who are you?"

"My name is Winston Zeddemore," he replied.

"Winston Zeddemore?" Constance asked in disbelief. "As in Ghostbuster Winston Zeddemore?"

Winston nodded, then asked, "Do you mind if we grabbed some coffee? I have a business proposition for you."

~GB~

Constance and Jefferson sat across from Winston in the Starbucks Coffee shop. Hogarth sat next to him. He was the only one who had hot chocolate.

"I once found myself on the Ghostbusters' front step, looking for a steady paycheck," Winston said. "I never believed in ghosts, until I started working with them. We had the tools and the talent to do the job right. Then, after things that happened in 1991, business went slow, and then Egon took all the equipment and they had to close down. I founded my own company, and it quickly evolved into a global corporation. But after we met Egon's family, I sought to use my resources to restore Ghostbusters to its former glory."

"Winston," Constance said, "could we please focus on the part about your proposition?"

"Of course. Ray Stantz and I are very big fans of your work. We loved reading your book: Studies of the Phantasm - An Analysis of Supernatural Entities."

"You wrote a book?" Hogarth asked.

"Not now, Hogarth," Constance said sternly. "Go on, Mr. Zeddemore."

"Call me Winston. Anyway, ever since we resumed business, we've been looking to restart a project that never got off the ground in '91. We plan to set up new franchises across the country, and after reading about your work, we're interested in setting one up right here in San Francisco with you and Dr. Edevane in charge of it."

"You want us to lead a Ghostbusters team in San Francisco?" Constance said in disbelief.

"Well, yeah…that's what I said."

"Will I be part of it?" Hogarth asked. "I lost my job when these guys got booted out of the Institute."

"Well, I'm sure they will have to hire new recruits," Winston said. "We will provide you with funding of up to twelve grand to get things started: Find a headquarters, build equipment, everything you need."

Constance and Jefferson looked at each other before looking back at Winston.

"We accept," Constance said.

~GB~

It was very late when Hogarth climbed up the steps to his mother's house. Shutting the front door, he put his coat on the coat rack and walked into the kitchen.

"So, did you get a job today?"

Hogarth turned and saw his mother sipping tea at the kitchen table. She was wearing a robe and he could see she was wearing pajama bottoms underneath.

"I did, actually," he said, not wanting to say too much information about what happened earlier in the day. He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water.

"Oh, good. What job is that?"

"Just helping out a couple of scientists, that's all."

"That's wonderful, honey! You're doing something that could actually help others! Just make sure you don't do anything that could get you hurt."

"I will, Mom."

Hogarth quickly put the water bottle away and headed upstairs to get ready for bed before his mother could say anything else. He didn't want her to know the whole truth. If she knew what his job was about, she would probably have made him quit.