Stone Daisy Part 3
By Richard Henry
"Ack-hem." And there behind me stood on clear, genuine ghost.
"Hello. My name is Mervin." He looked down at his hands. "I'm the welcome wagon for this floor. I'm here to warn-" I cut him off.
"Uh, are you looking at note cards?" He started shuffling his feet.
"Yes, well..." He got angry. "Its bad enough that I have to reveal myself to you, and worse yet I didn't even wanna greet you! They did!" He pointed to an ajar door at the end of the hall. The door slammed shut and I heard some giggling. He let out a scream and threw his note cards at them. They simply in the air and fluttered through the floor.
"Ah, nuts." He dropped to all fours and stuck his hand through the floor.
"Crap." He began to pound on the floor. He stopped, stood up and looked at me.
"You know, when you're alive, life is suppose to be bad. Suffering, temptation, and all that stuff. They," he pointed to the door, "were my tormenters and offers of temptation. But I, like everyone should, ignored them. I led a pure life. Well, relatively pure. And slowly, they died off, one by one. And when the last one died, I danced and peed on each and everyone of their graves. Ten minutes after the little act of revenge, a massive heart attack felled me like a Redwood in the way of California developers. I thought I'd go to heaven. You know, robes, cloud nine, maybe join a harp band. But n-o-o-o-o-o-o. Guess where I went?"
"Here?"
"Yes, here." He walked over to the giggling door. "And I'm stuck with thes-"
From what I could gather, he was going to open the door and show his ‘tormenters'. But the door was locked and he walked into it face first. I had to bite my lip to stop the laugh. He clenched his teeth, furrowed his brow and flared his nostrils. He let out an anguished scream and began pounding on the door. The laughing from behind the door became even louder. He put his finger up to the door, as if pointing behind it.
"And my tormenters came with me."
The door handle gave a swift click and swung ajar. Mervin gave it a kick and it swung all the way open.
"Come on in." He walked in.
"But my summons?"
"She ain't going nowhere. Come on." Oh well. I walked in after him. The apartment was like the hall. Layers of dust, still air, and devoid of life. It was arranged in an old fashioned design. A couch faced a TV, equally old, mid fifties era, with a chair completing the L-shaped arrangement of couch and chair. The thick, orange shag carpeting that covered the floor like the moss on a dead tree, ended abruptly at the kitchen. The kitchen tiles was a black and white checker design. Nothing unusual about the kitchen.
"So," I said making conversation, "were are you tormentors?"
"They'll be here," he said abruptly and sadly. As if on queue, three figures materialized on the couch and chair. They all had on similar dress on. Sort of a fifties style gang member dress code. All were silently chuckling.
"Whatever-your-name-is, these are-" I cut him off again.
"John."
"Down the hall, to the left."
"No. My NAME is John, not where it is."
"Fine. John, this are James," he pointed to the man in the chair. He flashed a cocky smile and gave me a thumbs up.
"Brandon," indicating the man on the couch, furthest from me. He just sneered at me.
"And Elvis," the closest to me. He laughed and back handed me on the thigh. Or tried too. His hand passed through my leg.
"Charmed, I'm sure," I said, disinterested. This was getting boring really quickly.
Normally, I freak out at the slightest hint of paranormal activity, but not now. This was just bland.
"So, what do you guys do for fun? Forty some odd years in a single apartment must get boring at times."
"That," said James said, pointing at a TV. Correction. A muted TV.
"Your telling me that you've been watching..." I started at the TV to get the channel, "PBS for forty years?"
"No. We've been watching silent PBS for forty years. We are actually good lips readers. But, most of the programs on PBS are narrated so the point is moot."
"Why don't you turn it up?"
"Cause we can't touch the TV."
"What if I turned it up for you?" They all were shocked.
"Really? You'd do that for us?"
"Maybe. What's in it for me?"
"I'll tell you a story."
"Oh boy. Story time." I looked at my watch. "What the hell. I got three hours." James gave a little smile and made himself comfortable. He cleared his throat and began his story.
To be continued in part 4....
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