Ghost Program (4 page)

   “I hadn’t left.  You just quit...seeing me or something like that.  I didn’t leave you.  Why do you think I would leave you, when all I seem to ever want is your company?”

   “Wait, if you never left, then you saw me cry?” I opened my eyes, looking in Gregg’s direction.  The pounding in my brain stopped me from feeling any shame.

   Gregg smiled a little and shifted his feet in some embarrassment.

   “I saw you were unhappy.  I kind of worried I’d done something to cause it.”  Gregg sat down on the side of the bed.  It didn’t creak or indent the mattress the way it should have.  “I’m usually here, but you’re not...always seeing me, aware of me.  And if I leave you today, I probably haven’t left.  I’ll still be here.  At least unless my mother needs me.  Then I may have to leave you.  But I’ll try not to.  Not with that scoundrel...not with him...I think he may wish you dead.”

   “Gregg?”

   “Is there something else?”  He gave an inquisitive little smile.

   “Can you bring that wine bottle right over there?  I’m not feeling so good.”

   “Delighted to serve you.”  As he passed it to me, our hands touched.  His felt like ice.  He looked alive and sounded alive, but he didn’t feel that way.  “Don’t let
Him
trouble your mind.  This terrible wickedness won’t disturb you again.”

   Tipping the bottle towards my eager mouth, watching Gregg pace around the bedroom floor and listening to him mumble threats against our strange new enemy, threats which he assured me he thoroughly planned on carrying out, I felt a blurring of the proverbial line between fantasy and reality. 

   “I won’t let him kill you.  Not a chance.  Why, I’ll put your interests and safety first as will the rest of my family.”  He shuddered as if remembering the man’s humongous silver eyes and shark-like grin.  “Unattractive fiend!  He’ll repent of the day he ever set foot in our bathtub!”

   I tried to reply but my words were slurred and didn’t come out properly.

   My eyes were now unfocused and my head dizzy.  Occasionally, parts of Gregg’s body would fade out, and once I couldn’t see an entire leg from the knee down.  One thing I remember before falling asleep was Gregg flipping the light switch and lighting a candle.  As far as I knew, I didn’t own a candle or the silver holder in which it sat, and that was strange.  The lace curtains billowed against the closed window as Gregg placed a handmade quilt over me which I had also never before seen.  His mumbling became incoherent, and I closed my eyes.

❃
CHAPTER 4
❃

  
“
P
ffft!”

   I opened my eyes and saw Brent leaning over the windowsill blowing out a candle.

   “You shouldn’t leave candles like that, Sam,” he said.  “The whole house will burn to the ground.”

   I started to say
I didn’t
until I realized that it involved too much explanation, so I said nothing.  I sat up and pushed my pink fuzzy blanket off of me and sat up.

   “Sorry if I startled you but I rang the doorbell and no one answered, and you said to let myself in, so....here I am.”  He pulled off his jacket, revealing a sweater and jeans underneath.  It was amazing how we had picked out almost the same outfits that morning.

   “Mom’s not downstairs?” I asked.

   “We’re all alone,” he said.

  
That’s what you think
, I thought but I said, “Huh, that’s strange.  They must be out somewhere.”

   “Did you want to show me your software again?” he asked.

   “Oh.”  I took a deep breath.  “I was going to show it to you, in fact, I know it was something I promised you over the phone, but....”

   “Are you okay?  I just now noticed it, but...there’s a bloody washcloth on your head.”  Mesmerized, he picked it up and turned it over and over in his fingers.  “It’s soaked.  Holy shit, what happened?  Should I call an ambulance?”  He put down the washcloth on my pink bedspread, then turned the back of my head towards his face and ran his fingers over its sticky gash, causing me to wince.  “Sorry.  I had to look.  What happened to you after I called?”

   I told him about the black-haired man who had jumped into the shower with me and choked me while I bathed.

   “Wait...he
choked
you?” Brent asked incredulously.  He pulled the neckline of my sweatshirt slightly away from my neck and gasped.

   “Is it that bad?” I asked.  I hadn’t assumed there were any marks there.

   “There’s bruises all over you.  Maybe you shouldn’t leave the front door unlocked anymore.  What did the police say?  Did he just disappear after he attacked you?”

   “
He
disappeared alright.” 

   Brent didn’t catch the double meaning.

   “Are they going to find him?” he asked.

   “They can’t find him because
He
’s not human.  When I said
He
disappeared, I meant....poof,
He
vanished into thin air, like a magician.  I was attacked by a ghost.”  My head hurt, and I closed my eyes for a minute.

   “No.  That’s just not possible.  No ghost could have possibly done this.  No one has those kinds of abilities after death.  This was no ghost.  Someone broke into your house and attacked you.  My God, you haven’t called the police, yet?”

   “I told you....”

   “There’s nothing they can do?  Because your attacker wasn’t of this world?  That’s ridiculous.  You aren’t thinking clearly.  You have a...a head wound.  You’re not remembering things right, the way they really happened.  All the better reason to call the authorities.  This guy, he might’ve done some actual damage.  Do you feel alright?”

   “I’m fine!”  I don’t know why I yelled, but my voice sounded louder than I had intended for it to be.  I began to stand up, but my legs shook badly, and I collapsed on the floor.

   Brent watched me with an slightly amused expression on his face.  “No, you’re not,” he said quietly.

   Frustrated, I began to cry.  “You don’t believe me!”  Tears rolled down my face as I sat crumpled up on the cold, hard floor.  The lace curtains swayed back and forth across the closed window.

   “Don’t be ridiculous,” Brent replied quietly.  “It’s just that if someone could have possibly snuck into your house....and he’s still out there, he might try to get in here again.  And you haven’t told anyone.  Look, I’m sorry you’re upset.”  He lifted me off the floor, grunting a little as he plunked me on the bed.  “But it wouldn’t have been too hard for him to get in.  The door to your house is never locked.”

   “I didn’t even tell you the whole story,” I said.

   “No?” he replied.  “Then let’s hear it.”

   “I would have died, but Gregg rescued me.”

   “Gregg?  I’m not sure....I haven’t....”

   “From the Casper software.”

   “Gregg the ghost? 
That
Gregg?”

   “Yes.  He...he scared
Him
away.”

   “You’re upset, Sam.  I don’t see how a bodiless spirit could have possibly saved you.”  That’s when I saw that there was more than disbelief in his eyes, there was pity.  “This whole thing must really be a shock to you.  I mean, you’ve had a fairly sheltered life up until now.  At least as far as I know.  And then this happens.  It’s rough to have your sense of security yanked away like that.  Don’t get out of bed.  The back of your head is beginning to ooze blood again.  Wait, I’m going to search around for a towel and some water.  And I’m going downstairs to lock the front door.  No telling what kind of creeps are wandering around the streets in broad daylight.”

   I wiped a tear from my face and lay my pounding head on the pillow.  It was streaked with red, making me think of those peppermint hard candies I always see in candy dishes.  That was always a cute design.  Red and white mixed together with pink along the edges.  I was probably going to die.  Before, I had always believed that ghosts couldn’t actually harm people, only scare them.  My recent experience proved otherwise.  But why in the world pick on me?  What had attracted
Him
to my house in the first place?

   Brent had left the room, and I was now left alone here.  But was I alone?  Was Gregg somewhere in the room, possibly sitting on the bed with me or at the computer desk?  Who else was in the house with me that I didn’t know about?

   Brent returned a few minutes later carrying a towel and a glass of orange juice.  He handed me the towel.  I folded it and put it on my leaking head.  He set the glass of orange juice on the night stand.

   “I know you’re not going to agree with me, but I called 911.  You need to make a report about this.”

   “But what if mom comes home and sees the cops?  It’s going to frighten her, and I’m not going to tell her that I summoned the undead to our house using an experimental software program on my computer; she’d never believe it.  And my dad comes home from work at 7.  I’d hate to have to explain anything to him, either.  You shouldn’t have
done
that.”

   “Doesn’t matter,” he said.  “No one should get away with something like this.  If you don’t report it, they’ll never catch him.”

   I sniffled.  “They’re not going to, anyway.  As soon as they find
Him
,
He
’s just going to disappear!”

   “Well, maybe he didn’t disappear, you know?  If he didn’t leave by the bathroom door, he could have gone out by the window.”

   “It was closed.”

   “You’re not sure of that.”

   “Yes, I am.  Go check it now.”

   Brent left the room and I heard him thump across the hallway, and I heard the squeak of the bathroom doorknob.  He returned to me with a smug demeanor, why what I wasn’t sure.

   “It’s open, all right,” said Brent.  “Open just large enough for someone to have jumped through it.  You still certain your intruder was a ghost?”

   “I don’t understand,” I said.  “We checked it.  It was closed.  There was fog swirling around, and Gregg commented on that.  He said
We should open the window
.”

   The doorbell rang.  Brent ran downstairs to answer it, and I heard him talking to someone, but couldn’t really make out the words.  Brent and a couple of other footsteps were trudging up the stairs.

   “She’s in there,” he told someone.  Then three men entered the room, one being Brent, the other two were paramedics.  “She’s hit her head, and I’m not sure why, but it won’t stop bleeding.”

   I stared up in surprise at my new entourage.  “It’s just a cut,” I said quietly.  I wasn’t sure if they heard me.

   “Let me look at it,” said one of the paramedics.  He couldn’t have been older than twenty.  He grabbed a pair of gloves out of his case and touched my head.

   “Ow!” I yelled more loudly than I had intended to.

   “It needs stitches,” said the other one.  “You’re fine, all right, but you need stitches or you won’t stop bleeding.  Look at all the blood on your pillow case.  We’re going to sew it up.”

   The first one dug around in the case and extracted a syringe and some thread.  I was vaguely aware of someone poking me around my cut and squirting antiseptic on it, but the closure was painless and routine, leading me to believe that he must have numbed my skin.

   The paramedic put his tools away and smiled.  “You
should
see a doctor.  You didn’t pass out, did you?  That cut is a doozy.”

   “No,” I said.  The air in the room smelled faintly of cologne.

   “I think it’s fine for us to go, but try to make an appointment with your GP.  You know .... there’s something strange about your bedroom.  The curtains move while the window’s closed.  Usually that’d mean there’s a baseboard heater or radiator or a vent underneath...”  He looked all over the window, inspecting it carefully.  “But I don’t see anything like that.”  As he spoke, both medics looked towards the large, lace-covered curtain.

   “Man,” said the other medic.  “Oh, man.  That’s freaky.  How much you wanna bet this place is haunted?”

   “Sheesh, I know.  And it’s like freezing.  How much warmer was it before we got into
this
room?”

   “Thanks for coming,” I announced.  “But is there anything else you need from me or are you free to go?”

   They looked embarrassed.  “No, we’ll let ourselves out.”

   “Good.” I sighed in relief, staring at the misty floor.

   I hoped they’d hurry up and get out of the house before my parents came home.  Answering 110 questions from mom was not something I had any intention of doing.  Brent followed them downstairs so he could lock the front door, and I was left alone in my room again.  It began to get dark outside as storm clouds passed over the house, and the bedroom was cast in shadows.  The candle on the windowsill suddenly burst to life, illuminating the room with its warm glow.  I’d no idea where the candle came from, and I didn’t know whose invisible hand had lit it, but I had a strong suspicion about the latter.

   I heard Brent’s footsteps coming up the stairs, and he soon popped into my room.  Unfortunately for me, he wasn’t alone.

   “Goddammit!” I said, a little louder than I had meant to.  There was a cop behind him carrying a small satchel.

   “It’ll only take a minute,” Brent said, rather defensively.  “He just has a few questions.”

   The cop was fat.  And old.  And mustached.  “Just a quick inquiry, I’ll take some notes, and get out of your hair,” he said jovially.

   “Fine,” I said.  I wished I’d sounded sincere.

   I told the cop the same story I’d told Brent earlier, however I didn’t mention Gregg in this version of events.  I did note to him the disappearance of my attacker, however, which gave him some pause.

   “Wait,” said the cop.  “Back up a minute.  You said he disappeared?  What do you mean?”

   Brent interjected himself rudely into the conversation.  “The window was open,” he said.

   “The window was open,” repeated the cop.

   “I checked it before you came,” Brent said.  “He probably crawled through it.”

   “It wasn’t,” I said.

   “It wasn’t?” said the fat cop.

   “Right after the man disappeared, I mean.  The window was closed.”

   “So did he run out the bathroom door, you mean?” asked the cop.

   “No, just like I told you.  He disappeared.”

   He laughed a hearty laugh.  “Well, no one can just disappear.  Either he crawled out the window or left by the door.”

   “I think, sir, what my friend here is suggesting to you,” said Brent, “is that she was attacked by a restless, wandering spirit....a ghost.”

   That made the cop laugh more.  “So you want me to put that on my report?  If you insist,” he said.  He scribbled what I’d told him in his notebook.  But he was still laughing and shaking his head. 

   I looked away.  I didn’t want them to see the tears forming in my eyes.  

   As if he understood my frustration, the old cop put his pen back in his shirt pocket and straightened as if his new posture would be less insulting.  “So he was just in the bathroom, then?  Is there anything else you could possibly remember about the intruder?  Any detail helps.”