James Swain - Shadow People

“Oh, my God, he shot me in the leg!” Liza said.

Peter struck the shadow person several times. It shrunk in size, until it was no bigger than a beach ball. He shoved it back inside the dollhouse, and pressed the secret mechanism which let Liza escape from her hiding place. His girlfriend poured out of the illusion into his waiting arms, her eyes firmly shut. He looked at her leg, and did not see a bullet wound. So much for small favors. He kissed her, and she snapped awake.

“You’re going to be okay,” he said.

“What took you so long?” she whispered.

“We need to finish the show.”

She slipped out of his arms. Clasping hands, they bowed to the audience, and were showered with applause. Peter looked at the crowd, and saw a sea of smiles. And the huge false one planted on Liza’s face that was there to reassure the children.

Peter sat on the couch in his dressing room, holding Liza in his arms. Entering the spirit world was a harrowing experience, and Liza had not completely fallen back to earth, her mind still wandering in the shallow space somewhere in between.

“Drink this,” he said.

The water bottle touched her lips. Eyes still faraway, she sipped. “Explain what just happened to me.”

“The shadow person sent you forward in time to a house in Westchester where a serial killer lives. That killer was getting ready to pick up his next victim, a woman named Rachael, when you dropped in on him.”

“Was he the same guy from your séance last night?”

“Yes. I nicknamed him Dr. Death. He has a beard, and dresses like a college professor.”

“That’s the guy I saw. How many people has he killed?”

“Nearly a dozen, according to the FBI.”

She took another sip. “Why did the shadow person send me to see him? To get to you?”

“I guess.” He stared at Liza’s bare neck. His face grew into a deep frown. “You took off my mother’s five-pointed star. I asked you not to do that.”

“It was scratching my neck, so I took it off for the show. Big mistake.”

“Promise me you won’t do that again until this is over.”

“I promise.”

He kissed her on the forehead. It had a calming effect on her, and she rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. An eerie scratching sound at the door made them both jump. Peter jumped up and sprang open the door. A white ball of fur came bounding in.

“Norman! Oh, my God, we forgot all about you,” Liza said.

Norman was panting hard. They took turns stroking his fur until he calmed down.

“I wonder where he was,” Peter said.

“He was with me,” Liza said. “He was running down the road with me, barking at Dr. Death. Dr. Death started yelling at him, and tried to run him over with his car. It had to be the most cruel thing I’ve ever seen. What kind of person would run over a lovable dog like this?”

“An evil one. What happened then?”

“Norman ran between the car’s tires, and somehow escaped.” She petted Norman’s furry head. “Can you imagine what’s going through his little brain?”

Peter could hardly understand what was going through his own head, much less the poor dog’s. Rising from the couch, he walked down the hall to Liza’s dressing room, removed his mother’s five-pointed star from the pewter jewelry dish, and returned to his own dressing room with it dangling from his finger. “Please put this back on.”

Liza fitted the star around her neck, and tucked it beneath her collar. “I won’t take it off, even if it rips my throat.”

They played with the dog for a while. Peter had taught Norman how to walk on his hind legs while balancing a red rubber ball on the tip of his nose. He had used animals in his magic show since he was kid. Back then, his doves had lived in a drawer of his dresser, while he’d kept a Dutch dwarf rabbit in a cardboard box in his closet. These days, his pets lived in large pens with plenty of sunlight, and were showered with daily attention by himself and his staff.

“So, how are we going to catch this guy?” Liza asked.

Her words caught him by surprise. They were not what he’d expected her to say, and it took a moment for them to sink in. “Did you say we ?” he asked, just to be sure.

“Yes. I want to stop him from killing Rachael. So do you.”

“But you’re putting yourself at risk.”

“So are you.”

“I have powers. I can fight back.”

“Then I’ll make sure to stand right next to you.”

“I don’t want you doing this.”

Liza stopped playing with the dog. “I have to. I heard her voice.”

“You mean Rachael’s?”

“Yes, Rachael’s. As Dr. Death got out of his car, his cell phone rang, and he answered it. I heard the caller. It was Rachael calling to say that her train was running late because of a delay out of Grand Central Station. She sounded like a good person.”

“You’re sure about this.”

“Positive. I’d like to think she’d do the same for me.”

Liza had connected with a woman in the future she didn’t know, and now wanted to prevent her from perishing. It was an emotion he knew all too well, for it was one which consumed him also. Rachael with no last name was a life that needed saving.

“You’re probably right,” he said.

“So you’re okay with it?”

“I appreciate and support your position.”

“Thank you, counsel.”

“What else do you remember about your experience? Any little detail might help the FBI to figure out who Dr. Death is.”

Liza stopped petting the dog, her face a study in concentration. “It was dark. I didn’t see all that much. The interior of his house was kind of drab. Judging by the decorations, I’d say he’s a bachelor, doesn’t have any lady friends. The car he was driving stuck out. It was an older make of Volvo my parents drove when I was a kid. My father always complained about the suspension.”

“How old?”

“Twelve-thirteen years.”

“This is great. Keep going.”

“Do you think we can really catch him?”

“The FBI has a profile. If we give them enough clues, they’ll find him.”

She shut her eyes and tried to bring the rest of it back. “He had a really bad vibe. Like he was carrying around a huge chip on his shoulder.”

Dr. Death had called the town he lived in a hellhole, and Peter guessed something traumatic had happened to him growing up. His soul had been seared, so he sought revenge against those who had wronged him. It was as good an explanation as any for what he was.

“That’s all I remember,” Liza said. “Does it help?”

“Everything helps.”

There was a tap on the door. Snoop stuck his head into the dressing room. Snoop was Peter’s stage manager, and one of his closest friends. Snoop wore his blond locks combed over his eyes, and looked like Norman’s older brother. Snoop had seen a lot of unusual things, and never said much about it. He was cool with the strange comings and goings in Peter’s life.

“You two lovebirds okay?” Snoop asked.

“We’re doing fine,” Peter said.

“I’ve got a question. Is that black thing that came out of the dollhouse going to be a permanent part of the show? That was one heck of a trick.”

“I don’t think so,” Peter said.

“You’re not going to do it again? Why not?”

Snoop got his name because he enjoyed prying into other people’s business. Lying to him was pointless because he’d eventually figure out the truth. Better to level with him up front, and be done with it, Peter decided.

“The thing you saw wasn’t part of the show,” Peter said.

“Then what was it?”

“An unwanted guest.”

“You mean a ghost?”