Vintage: A Ghost Story (19 page)

Trace hung up the phone. “Taylor will come tonight.” She walked back into her bedroom, where I was reading the book on mediums. “I’m a little surprised you want him there.”

“He didn’t freak out when we went looking for First Mike’s body,” I answered, glancing up from the page. “Would be good to have someone level-headed around.” I didn’t have to say why there might be a panic. Both of us had read the book’s warnings. Not every medium who tried an exorcism survived. The deaths were particularly nasty, mirroring the demise of the ghost; I’d be crushed, mangled, as if hit by that drunk driver too.

“So with Maggie along, that makes four. Four’s lucky, like clover. Or four corners of the earth.”
I put the book down and looked up at her. This was not going to be easy. “I’m considering a fifth.”
“Not your aunt?”
I shook my head.

“Malvern?”
“No. Mike.”
She sat down beside me. “Are you sure you want that?

He’s fifteen—”
“I should be the only one in danger.”
“Even so, suppose things go wrong.” She lightly struck my

leg with her fist. “Do you want him to… to see that?” “Hopefully nothing will go wrong.”
She chewed a fingernail for a while. “When are you going

to ask him?”
“As soon as he gets back from the flea market. I asked him
to pick me up something from the oldies music stand there.” She got up from the bed and paced around a little while
I went back to reading for the umpteenth time. “I feel like we
should be doing something to prepare for tonight… I don’t
know… like, cutting our hands and becoming blood brothers.”
“Blood sisters would be more apt,” I countered. “Stop being so blasé about it!”
“I’m not. I’m terrified, but it doesn’t help to show it. There,
now you know.”
The guy behind the Formica counter at DeBevec’s filled
a mug with fresh coffee for me. I handed Mike a tall glass of
mintflavored cappuccino topped with whipped cream as he
ordered. I hoped his lips would keep the smell of mint after
he finished.
“This is a cool place,” he said to me as I poured sugar and
half-and-half into my coffee. He took a sip and a bit of the
cream clung to the tip of his nose. With an embarrassed smile,
he wiped it off.
“Yeah.” I led him to the farthest table. I didn’t want anyone
to overhear us.
“So the guy at the music store at the mart told me that ‘Bye
Bye Love’ was rejected thirty times before being made into an
album. Then it became a number-one hit.” Mike took another sip, this one more cautious. “He had this huge hearing aid in his
right ear. Looked like something you’d see in a scifi movie.” “Is this our first date?” he asked without pause. “Uh, sort of. Actually, no, I still owe you one.” I warmed my
hands against the sides of the mug. “Listen, Mike, something
is going to happen tonight.”
“With a ghost?”
“Yeah. That CD I asked you to get? It’s for a special séance
tonight.” I felt so awkward and exposed telling him all this.
I didn’t want to upset him, but after seeing Trace’s reaction,
I doubted there was any way not to. “The ghost that’s been
haunting me has to be put down. I have to convince him and
it’s not going to be easy. I think it’s actually dangerous.” “So what, you don’t want me there?” His voice became all
defensive. “‘Cause I’m too young?”
“No. Nothing like that. And actually it would make me feel
better if you did come along.” I reached out across the table
and took hold of his hand. I finally had my wish of bringing a
boy I liked to the coffee shop, only now I didn’t have the time
to savor it. I sighed.
He squeezed my hand hard and stared at me a while before
finally saying, “Count me in.”
Well after dark, the five of us met outside of Malvern’s.
Maggie had picked me up in her jeep. Taylor brought Trace and
Mike. After I let us in, I made sure to lock the door to the shop
behind me. I brought along a flashlight with fresh batteries.
All of us carried props needed for the séance. Taylor whistled
as I played the light over the shop.
“I’m surprised this place isn’t haunted.” He poked at a
heavy overcoat.
Trace slapped his arm. “Don’t joke.” She had been on edge
ever since this morning.
“Sorry.”
We climbed the creaky steps to the attic.
“We need space in the middle of the floor. We’ll sit around
you, one at each cardinal point.” Trace said.
“What will that do?” Mike asked.
Trace shrugged. “Can’t hurt. The book says that the mediums don’t exhaust themselves as much while contacting the
dead if others lend their psychic energy.”
“So we’ll all have hangovers after this,” Maggie muttered
as she began shifting the larger cardboard boxes. “Ghosts or
no ghosts, seems like the usual Saturday night for me.” Working together, we quickly cleared an area. Trace began
setting up candles around the room, Taylor following her path
with the flashlight’s beam. For a moment I feared one would
get knocked over and start a fire, but told myself I had other
worries. Soon the attic was lit with a gentle light and smelled
of vanilla.
“I brought the boom box,” Maggie said and unzipped the
gym bag she had brought with.
Mike handed her the CD.
Best of the Everly Brothers.
She
looked it over and frowned. “Now
this
stuff is scary.” “It’s mood music.” I knew Josh would be on guard hearing
the song, but also figured he would be drawn to it like a moth
to a flame. No one ever resists what’s bad for them. Mike held out to me an old letter sweater similar to the
one Josh wore. It still had the price tag. “Sorta musty for fifty
dollars.”
“It will do.” I took off the jacket I wore and slipped the
sweater over my head. Mike helped me roll up the sleeves. “Just remember,” Trace said. “He needs to know it’s okay
to pass on to the next plane.”
“I’ll convince him.” I patted the page from the yearbook
in my pocket. From what I read in the book, I should manifest
within Josh’s final memories with everything on me. Showing
Josh the memorial would help persuade him that his actions
on his last night alive had been forgiven.
Taylor patted me on the back. “Good luck.”
Maggie gave me a thumbs up. “Kick his ass.” Mike hugged me tight. “Don’t be scared,” he whispered
into my ear.
“I’ll try,” I said softly. “I promise to come back to you.” We played the music. They all sat around me, Trace to my
north, Mike to my south, and Taylor and Maggie being east
and west, respectively. I faced the wall and closed my eyes. It
took a while to forget the danger and let my mind go blank.
Even though I was calmer than before, my heart beat fast. I
took several deep breaths, holding the air in as long as possible
before easing it out.
“I’m going to bring him here,” I told them. I waited a moment. “Josh.” I pictured him in my head, walking toward me
on that lonely road. Even after all that he had done, all that I
knew about him, I still could not help but ad mire his beauty.
“Josh.”
The room soon grew cold. I was thankful for the sweater. “Josh,” I said again.
I heard a gasp. It might have been Maggie.
I opened my eyes and saw him standing at the edge of the
room, staring at me.
“Shit.” Taylor muttered.
I dared a glance at Mike who stared at Josh angrily. It made
me smile. Jealous boyfriends.
“Josh.” I stood up.
If he noticed the others, he gave no sign. He took a step
toward me. “Why? Do you want me now?”
A pang of guilt stuck in my gut. I seemed to always be
lying, and no matter that it was for the best, I felt bad over it.
Still, I nodded to him and spread my arms wide, waiting for
him to embrace me.
He hesitated. I thought he would refuse, angry over what
had happened the other night. But then he walked forward. I
wrapped my arms around him. I envisioned a door opening and walking inside the night Josh had never forgotten, nor escaped.

Vision was the first sense that returned to me. I was on a landing. I could see Josh sitting down on a carpeted floor of a staircase landing. Across from him, leaning against the wallpaper, Arlene Pervis twirled her red hair in her fingers and smiled at him. I think Trace once told me that when girls curl a lock of hair in their hands, they’re thinking about sex. Seemed silly at the time, but the expression on Arlene’s face could not be doubted.

I tried to touch something. The banister. But I had no hands. I wasn’t flesh. All I possessed was sight.
She leaned forward and took the beer can from Josh’s hand. It looked odd, so different from the aluminum cans I was used to. This looked like thick tin with a cone noz zle on the top. When she brought the beer to her garishly pink lips, she made the act of drinking almost obscene as much as sloppy. A slight trickle of amber liquid escaped her mouth. The giggle that followed as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand sounded phony.
I could hear. Another sense. I reveled in its return, trying hard to listen.
Josh turned away and looked down the stairs. Music came from below. I only caught a hint but it sounded familiar.
“Josh,” Arlene said and nudged his penny loafer with her foot. “I’m wearing the school colors.”
Josh turned back to her. “No you’re not.”
The yearbooks I had looked at had been bound in green and rust. Her fuzzy sweater was white with pale blue trim and the pencil-slim skirt just a shade darker. Her clothes captivated me; I was thrilled to be seeing them in such pristine shape. She probably bought a new outfit just to wear for the occasion, I thought.
Arlene giggled again. “Yes I am,” she said softly and began lifting up the edge of her skirt. Her painted eyelids lowered seductively. “Underneath.”
Tramp, I thought. Or maybe Josh did. Did it matter? Josh rose up a bit unsteady. He must have had more than just a few sips of beer.
“Here, let me help you.” She grabbed hold of his hand and pulled him toward her. He obviously didn’t want to kiss her. Arlene’s lips pressed against his. I caught myself staring, remembering the first time he had kissed me. Some part of Josh would always haunt me.
Josh pushed her off him and rushed toward the first door, slamming it shut behind him.
Though sure she could not see me, I still gave her a shrug. Then, by wanting it, moved myself through the bathroom door. It felt like I drifted more than walked.
“Josh, are you okay?” Arlene said and knocked a few times.
Josh was bent down over the toilet bowl throwing his guts up.
Another sense returned. The sense of smell, though this one I was not so keen in experiencing. Slowly I was aware of growing more distinct, more present. Focusing on myself, I could actually feel the floor beneath my feet, and yet I did not seem quite real. This was how ghosts experienced the world, a detached sense of self, always distant, being never truly in sync with their surroundings.
Josh flushed and went over to the sink, turned on the faucets, and splashed water on his face. When he looked up, he gave a shout. I saw only my own reflection in the mirror.
“Josh, you’re scaring me,” Arlene called out.
He turned around and seemed to finally notice me there. He stared at me. I offered a nervous smile.
“It’s okay,” he called out to Arlene finally. “I just need to be alone a moment.”
“I’m here.” I said it to myself as much as him. “I want to help you.” My voice sounded like a whisper.
He shook his head at me, then went back to the sink and cupped a handful of water and rinsed out his mouth. He dried his face and hands on a towel.
All my rehearsals of what to say to him had fled my memory. I struggled to think of something on the spot. “Josh, none of this matters.”
“I think that beer was skunked. Why my uncle drinks that Blackdram crap I don’t know.”
“This is going to be hard to accept. But… you’re dead.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Bombed more likely.”
“No. I’m sorry, but it’s true. Look, see.” I reached for my pants but my fingers passed through my legs. Fuck! I tried again but I was as insubstantial to my own body as everything else.
He opened the medicine cabinet. Frustrated, I tried to shut it, but my hand passed right through.
What now? I had to convince him to move on but how? He’d never believe anything I would say. He was too stubborn.
He took out a bottle of Old Spice aftershave, one that had been on pharmacy shelves for decades. He uncapped it and took a deep sniff. His eyes closed and he got a dreamy expression on his face. But only for a second. Then his eyes opened and I could see how sad they were. He squeezed them shut again and gritted his jaw.
This was all happening so fast and right on cue. I stood in front of the door even though it would not matter. “You need to calm down, Josh. Hear me out.” But even as I said that, I knew it was pointless. Josh was too worked up over Roddy and Colin. He smashed the bottle into the mirror which shattered loudly. Shards of glass fell into the sink.
Damn. If only he would stop being jealous, just for a moment. Then none of this would have to happen. He would never get into that fight, never run off, and never be hit out on 47. If only I could do the impossible and change the past….
The idea came to me in an instant. I didn’t need to alter history, only how Josh be lieved it happened. A plan started to unfold in my mind. “You’re overcome with jealousy. Calm down. Talk with him.”
“Oh, I will.”
He threw open the door and took the steps down two at a time. I followed, feeling more like I glided rather than ran after him. “He should be with me,” I heard him growl.
Down in the basement I heard that song from the Everly Brothers playing.

I never truly listened to that refrain before. The image the words conjured chilled me. Couples danced in the center of the basement, the rec room. I wished I could have spent hours watching them unseen. The guys had their hair slicked back with. Brylcreem. Some of the girls had pixie hair, cut short with pointed bangs, while others had styled hair long with ends curled forward. I wanted to peek under the girl’s full skirts to see if they wore crinolines.

Arlene had attached herself to another member of the team, sharing her Coke with him. Josh saw Roddy standing in the corner. Malvern… Colin next to him, leaning down so that he could hear whatever Roddy whispered to him. I looked hard to my old boss’s younger self, trying to see his future old face in the smooth, thin features. With his thick tortoiseshell glasses and uptight button-down shirt, he seemed more likely to hang out in a library than a bar.