Chris Green - Only the Good Die Young

Until I realized that he would do anything to protect his family—even get rid of the angel-ghost he’d touched in his dream.

The doorbell rang, and I realized that was what I’d heard in his subconscious. And before the cleaner could enter the mansion, I left the bedroom as fast as I could, trying to get downstairs to the chimney and to safety.

But I wasn’t nearly fast enough.

I’d had so much energy sucked out of me tonight that this latest experience had reduced me to a thin mass of coldness that could only inch over the carpet.

The doorbell rang again as I slid into the hall, then down the stairs, pushing myself to my limits, just like I used to when I played sports or went surfing with real Dean.

Faster. Faster!

But I moved more like I had a hangover, which I supposed I did.

Halfway down the stairs, I remembered a toy I had played with when I was a kid—the Slinky—and I let my essence tumble end over end down the steps. I was almost at the bottom when the door opened and a woman walked inside.

“Hello? Constanza? Is everyone all right?”

Under the lights that were blaring, the petite woman—it had to be Eileen the cleaner—seemed shiny and new, even if she was middle-aged. She had rosy tan skin like Noah’s that glowed from good health, a delicate nose and cheekbones, and dark brown hair that flipped into a Jackie O do. Her pristine light pink two-piece suit hugged her skinny figure, and her small feet were tipped by pink-and-white pumps.

She carried a big white vinyl bag that bulged. “Constanza!”

I heard the maid’s voice from the kitchen. “We are in a salt circle in here!”

“Good. Stay there for a moment while I get a feel for what’s around me, all right?”

“Yes!”

From the second story, Gavin’s footsteps thumped on the floor. I couldn’t summon the energy to look at him. I just rested, hoping my strength would come back. Wishing I could move.

Eileen looked up at Gavin, smiling, her teeth white. “You must be Gavin. I’m Eileen Perez.”

“Thanks for coming over,” he said. He didn’t seem put out that she was here, because he knew I was back and that I couldn’t stay.

I focused on the door that was still cracked open behind the cleaner. Have to get out before she traps me…

I pushed myself over the marble as she reached behind her, giving the door a push. Going… going…

It shut while I was only a couple of feet away from it.

I remained as still as untouched water. Could cleaners see ghosts? Or did they just sense them? Was I fucked here?

I rested my head over the floor, waiting for her to address me, to sprinkle holy water on me or whatever cleaners used. Then I remembered Twyla talking about iron daggers in the gut and how that was the way to “kill” a ghost.

When nothing happened, I turned my head to glance at Eileen, but she was only looking around, her dark eyes narrowed. She rubbed one hand over her opposite arm while addressing Gavin, like she felt a chill.

“I tried to make it in better time,” she said, “but I hadn’t charged my car up enough yet. So much for trying to save the environment, huh?”

I wasn’t sure what she meant by charging up a car, but I was concentrating on the fact that she was so damned nice and casual instead. Also, I was praying that her inexperience would cut me a break.

She added, “Constanza told me everything she could. Has the spirit returned?”

“I’m not sure.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“The spirit that went out the window earlier was dark, but there’s a ghost here now that’s… I want to say light, but I’m not sure that’s a good description.”

“She feels different from the other spirit?”

“Yeah, but I want all of them gone for my family’s sake.”

Eileen reached into her big bag, taking out a small device. She turned it on and lifted it up to Gavin.

“Do you mind if I set this recorder down on a table?” There was an antique white one by the door. “It’ll capture sounds, and I can replay the tape to see if this ghost is trying to communicate through channels that we don’t hear. And I have a few more I’ll put throughout the house. But I might be able to expel your spirit or spirits before we get any EVPs.”

“Electronic voice phenomena?”

He had been studying.

“That’s right.” She seemed pleased as she put down the recorder. Then she brought out a square, boxy thing that looked like the phones everyone was using. When she turned it on and waited, then slowly moved it around her, I guessed it must’ve been either a temperature gauge or something that read electricity in the air. Either way, I was screwed. But she still hadn’t seen me, so I guess that was good news.

“I’m getting a high reading,” she said. “Your spirits could be biding their time, watching us even now. I certainly feel their coolness. This happened in the other house I visited.”

“Constanza said you chased a ghost out of that one.”

“Yes. He was a sad man who’d overdosed. Helping him to move on was a blessing. I’m part of a group who studies these things, so we knew just what to do for him.”

Hell, she just might get to chalk up another ghost banishment tonight.

Gavin was finally coming down the stairs. “As far as these two spirits are concerned, there’s been one in particular that’s been at me. The other psychic who was here said it was a poltergeist, so I thought the dark spirit that we all saw fly out the window was it. But then I got to thinking—why didn’t it look like the spirit in Wendy’s pictures?”

“Constanza told me about the photos.” Her voice was sweet, and I imagined that she could get just about anyone to talk to her. Even screwed spirits. “May I see those pictures?”

“I’ve got them right here on my phone. I’ll also tell you about the experience I just had… and what’s gone on with one of the spirits before.”

He reached the bottom of the stairs, and I decided that it was now or never to attempt an escape.

The door was pretty tightly shut, but if there’s one thing I was learning, it’s that there’s always an opening, no matter how small. As a ghost, I recognized the wispy needle of light on the side of the door, where age had warped the wood and left an opening that maybe a microorganism could fit through.

I could change my shape, but would I be able to get that thin? And how long would it take me to get my entire, snaking essence through? God, why hadn’t I been an anorexic?

I didn’t have a choice about what I was or wasn’t now, because Eileen was walking toward Gavin, getting ready to stride straight through me, her heels clicking on the marble as she put that reader into her purse and Gavin handed her his phone.

The last thing I needed was to be stabbed.

I don’t know how I did it, but I rolled out of the way just as she stepped right where I’d been, her pump heel slicing down until it touched marble instead of me.

Have you ever been so damned sick that you had to literally drag yourself out of bed so you could throw up in a toilet? Charming, I know, but that’s exactly what it felt like as I didn’t look back at Eileen and made my eternal way to the door, keeping my gaze on the hairbreadth of light at the edge of it.

But the door seemed so high up, and with every passing second, I was getting weaker. It felt like it was a continent away.

What I needed was some death spot energy. Obviously, a few minutes on the power lines had only gotten me so far after that dark spirit had messed with me, and Gavin’s dream had sucked out more of my juice.

In the background, the cleaner and Gavin talked about the pictures, and I gathered everything I had in me, then eased up the door, sighting that slim line of welcoming light and nothing else. Don’t stop. Don’t get caught. Just go, go, go… .