Three worlds collide, p.11
Three Worlds Collide, page 11
The man smiled down at him and squinted his eyes as he considered how he might use this feisty boy. “Good. I think you can help me with this.” With that, he turned and reached into the car and pulled a small package from the front seat. He held it up and asked Armando, “Do you know the place-where-the-pretty-girls-stand-out-front?”
Armando had passed it many times on the way to the market and always wondered why so many pretty girls lived in one house. “Si.”
“Take this package there and we are even.” With that, he handed Armando the package.
Armando studied the plain brown wrapping tied off with a simple string, the same way the meat had been wrapped. But this package did not feel like it had meat in it. He looked up at the man, who watched his reaction closely. After a brief hesitation, he said, “Okay.”
The man nodded and said, “Good.” Then added, “If you do a good job and go straight there, I may have more for you to do.”
“Work,” Armando stated. “For money.”
The man laughed. “Yes, little man, work for money. Now go.”
Armando scampered off. The man motioned his head and an older boy materialized from the shadows between the buildings. “Follow him, but do not make yourself seen unless he tries to run. If he does, you know what to do.”
𓂓
After exchanging phone numbers with Sean, Jackie decided to take Elena and Sally home to freshen up, leaving him alone with Clay. Sean had never just kicked back with his boss. But he found him to be easy company. Kind of like working with him had been over the past couple years. While Clay scanned the TV channels, Sean looked over his texts. Michael let him know he had an errand to run but would stop by in the midafternoon. Jackie reminded Sean to let her know Clay’s new room number so they could come back later in the afternoon.
“I can stay, if you want,” Sean offered.
“Thanks, buddy,” Clay said. “You don’t have to.”
“My brother is hung up on an errand. I don’t mind.” Sean leaned in conspiratorially. “Besides, someone’s got to keep an eye on you with all these beautiful pumas and cougars prowling around in nurse uniforms.”
They both laughed. “You got that right,” Clay said.
Sean’s phone dinged with a notification from his brother. Clay looked up to see a thoughtful look on Sean’s face. “What’s up?”
“He says they found something on the DVR video, and he wants to talk with you about. He also wants me to try and make sure everyone is here later this afternoon.” Sean shot off a text to Jackie.
𓂓
A bit later, Charlie popped in again. They’d had several more brief conversations during her random check-ins. “Hey, Clay, how are you?”
“Feelin’ much better.”
“Good...” Charlie turned and regarded Sean with a hard stare.
Sean looked up and met her eyes, then leaned back slightly. With a confused look on his face, he asked, “What’s up?”
Charlie tightened her lips, and after a sharp breath out, she spoke her mind. “Sorry, but did I hear you say earlier that the driver of the truck was transporting fentanyl?”
“The guy that hit Clay?”
Charlie nodded.
“That’s what it looked like. I watched my brother arrest the guy after he found a duffel behind the driver’s seat. It was filled with bags of fake prescription pills and others that looked like candy.”
Charlie’s face contorted in anger for a moment before she turned back to Clay. “Looks like you not only saved a little girl, but also saved a bunch more kids.”
“What do you mean? I know that fentanyl crap is dangerous but—” Clay said.
Charlie cut him off. “It’s not just dangerous. It’s lethal. In just the last couple of years, we have seen a serious spike in overdoses in the ER.” She paused, turning to look out the window. “Mostly children. They’d been given what they thought was candy or bought something on social media that was supposed to be a party drug.” She turned back and looked Clay hard in the eyes. “Some die. Others leave the ER, smart kids before, but after OD-ing, they can barely form a sentence... Some are angry, even violent... Like they lost their minds.” She shuddered briefly, then quickly wiped a tear from her cheek.
“Damn,” Clay said.
Sean leaned forward, shaking his head.
“It’s why I started night school a few months ago,” Charlie added. “I just can’t take seeing the lives of these children destroyed, over and over and over...” she trailed off.
“I’m sorry to hear that, you must love nursing otherwise. You have a good bedside manner,” Clay said.
Charlie smiled. “Thanks.”
“What are you going to night school for?” Clay asked.
“Graphic design.”
“No kiddin’. I had to adapt my AutoCAD skills, from my engineering days, to do designs for my clients,” Clay said.
“Nice. I’d love to see some of your plans,” Charlie replied.
“Absolutely,” Clay replied.
“Wait, you were an engineer?” Charlie asked.
“That’s what I went to school for,” Clay replied.
“Then how did you wind up in landscaping?”
Clay turned his hand up and shrugged. “That’s a long story.”
Charlie gave him an approving nod. “Anyway, they’re gonna move you in a few minutes,” she added.
Clay hesitated. “Yeah, up to the third floor, right?”
Charlie nodded as she busied herself. Work seemed to soothe her nerves.
“Will you still be able to check in on me?” Clay asked.
Sean’s eyes widened a little and he smiled a bit, concentrating on his phone.
“Well, it is a whole ‘nother floor up on the elevator,” she replied. “I’m not sure I’ll have the time.”
Clay furrowed his brow. “I see. That’s too bad.” He turned inward, searching for the next words carefully.
Charlie saw his hesitation and put a hand on his forearm before leaving. “I’m just kiddin’.” Her expression softened, eyes smiling.
Clay smiled back. “You had me there for a second.”
“I can stop by later, after my shift.” She raised her eyebrows, searching for a response.
“I’d like that. Thank you again for...”
“Just doin my job.” With that, she walked out, graceful as a lynx.
A few minutes later, two nursing assistants entered the room with a wheelchair for Clay. He sat up and regarded the chair with disdain as they pulled it up next to him. Recognizing that look, one of the nursing assistants said with a flat stare that warned, ‘Don’t mess with me’. “Free ride up to the second floor, my man. We can’t let ya walk.”
Clay smiled back. “Fine, let’s roll.”
They all chuckled as they headed out. After a smooth ride, they arrived at Clay’s new room in a matter of minutes. No one occupied the other bed. Sean sent the room information to Jackie and his brother as they settled into Clay’s new digs.
Chapter Seven
Officer Street glanced down at his phone when he got the notification from Sean with the new room number. He sent a thumbs-up emoji as he walked up to the address the medium had given him. The property was located on the fringe of town, not too far from the hospital. A good location for a home-based business.
The ordinary one-story sat on a corner lot with two mature trees in the yard, one on each street, providing shade for a weedy low-cut lawn. A cracked concrete driveway ran down the opposite side to a garage. A spacious porch wrapped around the front and side facing the road. A wrought iron bench stood sentry by the front door. Martha sat there with arms tightly crossed, one leg over the other. She wore a dark earth-tone pants suit with a faded blue shawl drawn over her shoulders. Even in a seated position, Officer Street could see that her outfit looked a little big. She wore black leather short pumps with a wide heel. A pair of rounded wire-rimmed glasses rested on her nose. Long graying hair tumbled down from a tousled-looking half-up top knot. She regarded Officer Street as he walked up. “Ma’am, I’m Officer Michael Street. Thank you for seeing me on short notice.”
She didn’t move from the bench to greet him. “I’m Martha Klar. Glad to help when I can, Officer.” Martha raised her eyebrows and looked at him over the top of her glasses. “What’s this about? You mentioned a video?”
“That’s right. The video captured something unusual. I need your opinion.”
Martha loosened her arms a little. “What do you think this ‘something’ is, Officer?”
“I hesitate to say. I brought a copy of it. I thought we might play it on your computer.”
Martha considered him for a moment, then looked over to his squad car. Something shifted in her demeanor, and she stood, more relaxed. “Okay, come in.”
Officer Street noted that she stood effortlessly, turning for the door with a grace that belied the slightly frumpy way in which she dressed. He wondered how a woman of her apparent age kept in such good shape. As they entered the home, she explained that she always met new clients on the porch so she could prescreen them before letting them inside. There had been a couple of bad experiences with a few college kids who had tried to test her.
“Smart,” Officer Street said as he surveyed the front room, an intentionally ordinary space with just the basics. Along the far wall, a sensible three-piece couch, loveseat, and chair set surrounded a coffee table with a few magazines fanned out. A large rectangular mirror hung on the wall above the couch. A dresser along the front window next to the door had a tray with bottles of water and clear plastic cups. The space had the feel of a waiting room.
Martha walked through an archway that led to a kitchen. “Something to drink, Officer?”
“No, thanks,” Officer Street said, following her. The kitchen was a cheerful sunlight yellow with white speckled Formica countertops. A counter extended from the wall and had a few stools scattered around it. Martha stopped in front of the stove and pulled a paper-wrapped tea bag from a small shelf on her right. Her dexterous fingers unfolded the paper with ease.
“So, how long have you been a medium?” Officer Street asked as he walked up and took a seat on a stool. He dug out his interview pad, settling in to make notes.
“Most of my life, I suppose,” Martha said with a reflective tone. She poured water into a mug from a warm teapot, then dropped in the teabag, bobbing it up and down by the string until it sank. Officer Street watched her with fascination. Everything appeared so ordinary. There wasn’t any of the mystical décor he expected. This woman wasn’t dressed like he had envisioned a psychic with flowing robes, dark mascara, and an ethereal vibe. But she did possess an unmistakable gravity that served to draw you into the details of her persona.
“Have you always made a living this way?”
“Heavens, no. I went to college and worked in the same office for 26 years until my husband died.”
“Did that inspire the career shift?”
“In a way, yes. We had no debt. He left a modest inheritance. Combined with the sale of our old house, it enabled me to buy this place.”
“But that’s not all?” Officer Street asked, fully in his element.
“No,” Martha chuckled. “I kept my ability to myself most of my life. I would occasionally help a friend or coworker, but I didn’t come out about it until my husband passed away.”
Avoiding the obvious question, he continued the interview. “I can understand why you would hide your... ability, but why come out after all that time?”
“My husband, he... visited me after his death. He explained that he regretted not encouraging me to embrace my talent, told me the time had come.” Her eyes teared up a bit and she reached for a paper towel from the roll hanging under the cabinet. “Then he crossed over.”
Officer Street gave her a minute while he tried to absorb that bit of information without judgment. “I appreciate you telling me that.” Tucking the pad away in his shirt pocket, he placed the thumb drive on the counter. “When you’re ready, can we play the video?”
She lifted the tea bag, gave it a squeeze, and tossed it into a nearby garbage can. “Of course. Right this way.” Grasping her mug, she picked up the thumb drive with her free hand, walked back out into the waiting room, and turned down another short hall with two closed doors, one on either side. It dead-ended at a wall with a small window that lit the space. She entered the door on the left. Officer Street followed her in.
The spacious corner room had two wide windows on each outer wall. The inside walls both had a single painting, each of a landscape vista. One wall had a low bookcase with stacks of dusty old books. She plopped down with a huff at an L-shaped desk situated in the corner under the two windows. The bookcase behind her coughed out a little dust as she took another pull from her mug, motioning with it for Officer Street to take a seat across from her before setting it on the desk. On her cluttered desk, one item stood out. The light of her lamp danced off a round glass set in the top of a small square wooden box. Through the glass, what looked like an antique coin could be seen. Upon first glance, Officer Street didn’t recognize it.
“A gift from my late father,” she said.
“Sorry?”
“The coin you were regarding. It was the last thing my father gave me before passing.”
“It’s unusual,” he said. Officer Street watched as she inserted the USB drive into a hub. “Open the file folder and then play the file labeled Video 01.”
She brought up the file and double-clicked it, then turned the monitor so Officer Street could see it.
“How’s that?” she asked.
“Fine, thank you.”
The video began with a view of Sally’s front yard. As it played on, Officer Street turned his attention from the video to Martha. He wanted to read her reaction the first time she viewed it. As she watched the events unfold, her hand went up to her slightly open mouth. She paused the video.
“Officer, I’m not about to watch something horrible happen to that little girl, am I?”
“No, ma’am. The girl is safe and sound.”
“And there isn’t any violence or gore as a result of this accident, is there? The imagery is hard for me to get out of my mind once I’ve seen it.”
“No. The truck is going about 25 or 30 miles per hour and strikes the man you see running toward it. The man, Clay, saved the little girl. He suffered temporarily paralysis from the impact as well as a concussion, but he’s in the hospital now and expected to make a full recovery.”
She considered his answer for a moment and then nodded as she hit play. “There is something... familiar about this street,” she murmured as the video resumed.
Officer Street pulled out his pad and made a couple notes. Usual psychic tricks? Smart. Levelheaded. Tentative.
The flash of light made her lean back in surprise. “Zum Teufel,” she murmured. Officer Street looked up, not understanding the expression. The video continued playing as she sat bolt-upright in her chair. Without taking her eyes off the screen, she said, “I would like to see that flash in slow motion.”
“I thought you would. Go ahead and close video file 01, there isn’t anything more you can see that would help, and it goes on for a while.” Before closing it, Martha watched in disgust as a portly man got out of the truck and shouted at the victims. She paused it and regarded him for a brief moment. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to watch this in its entirety at some point.”
Officer Street nodded in agreement as she played the file labeled Video 02.
The slow-motion video showed the arms and upper body materialize from the light, merge with Clay’s body from the side, and then exit in a flash from the other side. It wasn’t lost on her that this occurred just as Clay reached the little girl and tossed her to safety.
“Mein Gott!” Martha exclaimed as she leaned back, recoiling from the image. She paused the video and sat back astonished.
“Is that German?” Officer Street asked.
“Yes. Sorry, when I’m taken off guard, I tend to use my native language.”
“You moved here from Germany?”
“Yes, with my parents when I was a little girl. But that’s another story. What is the child’s name?”
“Elena,” Officer Street answered. “Very sweet, bright young lady.”
Martha tightened her lips and nodded. “Glad she is okay.”
Officer Street let her sit in thought without interrupting. He wanted to let her speak first.
She drew in a deep breath and sat up in the chair. “Given that this is authentic, it appears to be what you think it is.”
“What’s that, ma’am?”
She looked over at him, her dark eyes regarding him intently. “Ein Geist, Officer. It is the spirit of someone lingering in the Earthly Realm.” She spoke with hints of a chanting lilt in her voice.
Officer Street held her gaze for a moment, then looked out the window as the reality of the situation settled in—he was dealing with the paranormal. “How do you know?”
“Well, from the video, it seems obvious. An image of a Geist can be captured that way, especially if it is a strong emotional manifestation of his or her energy.” Martha settled back into the oversized chair and sipped her tea. She appeared to be in her element as she described the scene to Officer Street. “In this case, it looks like the Geist had a strong emotional reaction or attachment to saving this little girl, which is why the manifestation is so well defined. This leads me to believe that the death is likely recent.” She paused in thought before continuing, “Relative to an average life span, that is.”
Officer Street stared at his pad in disbelief. This went against so many things he had come to hold true. This kind of stuff is used in movies for suspense or by charlatans to scare people. This can’t be real. Officer Street swallowed his doubts, pushing forward with the interview.
“It looks like the spirit enters his body. Is this a possession?” he asked Martha.
“Not in this case,” she responded. “Possession generally refers to the idea that...” Martha hesitated for a moment, as though searching for the right words. “The idea that a malevolent entity can take control of a person, causing them to act in a way they normally couldn’t, or better yet wouldn’t. Usually badly. This is nothing of the sort. When a benevolent spirit merges with a living person acting altruistically, it’s known as an amalgamation.”
