Brian Keene - Ghost Walk

The man lowered his hands and smiled. “Possibly, Miss…?”

“Maria Nasr. And you are?”

“You can call me Levi Stoltzfus.”

Maria thought that was odd. Not my name is but you can call me . She chalked it up to an archaic speech mannerism. She’d heard the Amish sometimes favored those.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Stoltzfus?”

“Well, I’m sorry about this, but as I was passing by, I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. You seemed very…irate.”

“My boss,” she explained. “It’s a long story.”

“Would that story have anything to do with Adam Senft?”

Maria paused, keeping her poker face. She studied him closely, trying to figure out his intentions. Had he recognized her name? Remembered her byline from a previous story? Amish people read the newspapers, just like everyone else. Indeed, since they couldn’t watch television, listen to the radio, or go online, newspapers were their only source for news. Or maybe, like millions of other Americans, maybe he was just fascinated with morbid stories and had recognized Senft’s name.

“How would you know that, Mr. Stoltzfus?”

“I heard you mention him, I’m afraid.” He glanced at the hospital. “Adam Senft is a patient here, isn’t he?”

“And may I ask what your interest in this is?”

“If you tell me what your own interest in him is, then I might be able to help you.”

Maria laughed. “I really doubt that, Mr. Stoltzfus, but I appreciate your—”

“You want to speak to him, right?”

She nodded.

“So do I. And if you tell me what your involvement is with him, I can make it happen for you. May I sit in your car while we talk?”

Ken stifled a yawn and cracked his aching back.

“Long night?” Terry asked, grinning.

“Yeah.” Ken rotated his arms and stretched his shoulders. “Didn’t get to bed until well after midnight, and couldn’t fall asleep until past two.”

Terry’s grin widened. “Had a little company, did you?”

“Fuck you. You talking about Maria?”

“Hey—first-name basis now, huh? Come on, Ken. You banged her, didn’t you? Tell the truth.”

“No,” Ken protested. “Not that it’s any of your business, but we had dinner. That’s all. It was a business meeting, Terry. She interviewed me. We ate. And then I came home.”

Ken felt defensive. It seemed disrespectful to Deena’s memory to be having this conversation. But before he could explain that to his best friend, Terry continued.

“You should have banged her, man. That’s some ass on her. I bet you went home and thought about it.”

“Dipshit.”

“What? She’s cute.”

“She is. And she’s also too young. Look, I just couldn’t sleep. That’s all. Had stuff on my mind. In case you forgot, we open tomorrow night.”

“I know,” Terry said. “That’s why I got a good night’s sleep.”

“Wish I could say the same. I ended up doing a few shots of Woodford Reserve just so I’d nod off.”

They walked the trail, checking off things that were completed and making a last-minute list of what still needed to be done. Terry had taken some vacation time so that he could give Ken a hand. Both men felt overwhelmed. Most of the volunteers wouldn’t arrive until the evening. There were only a few on hand, and two who hadn’t shown up at all.

“Have you seen…” Ken snapped his fingers, trying to remember their names. “Rhonda and Sam? The kids from the school?”

Terry shook his head. “Not this morning. Maybe they had something going on at the school?”

“Maybe. I know that I shouldn’t bitch about it. I mean, they’re volunteers. It’s not like they’re getting paid. But we’ve got a lot to do yet. We could really use some extra hands.”

“We’ll get ’er done,” Terry said, doing his best impression of stand-up comedian Larry the Cable Guy. “Don’t worry, man. You’ve just got the jitters. Just like back in high school, right before a game.”

“Maybe,” Ken agreed. “I just want everything to go smooth, you know? I want this to really be a good thing.”

“It will be.”

They finished their tour and walked back to the beginning of the trail.

“Listen,” Ken said, fishing his car keys out of his pocket. “I’ve got to run to the costume store and pick up our masks. Think you can handle things while I’m gone?”

“Damn straight. What do you want us to focus on?”

Ken handed him the list. “Everything on here. You’ve got Cecil, Tom, Russ and Tina to help you this morning. I sent Jorge to pick up more lime. He should be back in an hour or so. Have him outline the trail some more. Make sure we get a good coating of lime down so people know where the trail is and don’t go wandering off into the woods tomorrow night.”

“Will do.”

“Everybody else will be here this afternoon, after they get off work and stuff. We’ll do a final walk-through and then have a staff meeting out here in the field, so that everybody knows what they’re doing tomorrow night.”

“No worries.” Terry took the list and looked it over.

They said good-bye and Ken climbed into his truck and shut the door. He started it up. Johnny Cash’s rendition of Soundgarden’s “Rusty Cage” filled the cab’s interior.

“No,” Ken muttered as he drove away. “No worries at all. Nothing’s gonna go wrong.”

“So what do you want him for?”

“No fair,” Levi said. “I asked you first.”

They were still in the parking lot, sitting in Maria’s car. She’d hesitated at first when he had suggested it, but finally relented. He was definitely Amish—no way that beard was a disguise. She decided he didn’t pose a threat. Even so, she made a point of keeping the canister of pepper spray within reach, and letting him know that she had it.

“Okay,” Maria said, “but I’m warning you. If this is some kind of trick…”

“I assure you that it’s not, Miss Nasr. My interest in Adam Senft most likely parallels your own. In any case, it’s really important.”

“You can call me Maria if you like. Nobody’s called me ‘Miss Nasr’ since I got out of college.”

“Very well. It is nice to make your acquaintance, Maria.”

“Yours, too.” She paused. “Um, not to be rude, but what do I call you, anyway? Brother Stoltzfus or something?”

He appeared confused. “No, I’m not a clergyman. You can just call me Levi if you like.”

“Okay.” Maria relaxed. “I wasn’t sure. I’ve never actually talked to an Amish person before. I took one of those tours in Lancaster when I first moved here, but that’s all. I didn’t know if you guys referred to each other as Brother and Sister or not.”

“Oh, I’m not Amish. At least, not anymore.”

“I see.” She frowned. “I’m sorry. I just assumed, what with your clothing and the buggy and all. Are you Mennonite, then?”

“No. It’s a long story. I was once a part of the Amish faith, but sadly, I left the community many years ago. Now, I’m just…well, I don’t really know what I am. Certainly not Amish or Mennonite. Or even Protestant or Catholic. I guess I’m just trying to live my life right and do God’s work, the way that feels right to me. What would you call that?”

“Noble?”

“I like that.” He smiled. “I would call it nondenominational.”

“That would work, too.”

Levi’s stomach rumbled loudly. He smiled, embarrassed. “Sorry. I haven’t eaten today. I’m fasting.”

Maria nodded. Although she didn’t ask, she wondered what the reason for the fast was. Was it religious or medical?

“So, I’ve got to ask. If you’re not Amish anymore, then why the clothes and the beard? What’s up with the hat?”