“Why?” Carl asked, flexing his fingers.
“I’m not sure,” Father Santos admitted.
“Sally read that there was a battle between two men. Could one of the men have gained power from here?” Murphy asked.
“I had forgotten about the account Daniel Sullivan wrote,” Santos said. “It seems to me that one of the combatants was cheating. I’m an old man, yet I feel strong as an ox.”
“Or maybe, Father, it made them equals. Remember that one man had been enjoying the power given by the demon for decades,” Carl said.
“That’s a very astute observation.”
“Can we free the souls here?” Murphy asked.
“Should we free the souls here? Isn’t that the question?” Father Santos considered.
“Mia says to offer all the choice of the light, and then let the light decide what happens to the souls,” Murphy told him.
Father Santos opened his coat and extracted the dagger. “Carl, if one of the creatures comes at you, stab it with this. Remember, you are essentially stabbing air, so be careful not to do it in such a way that you will be cut by its blade.”
Carl felt the weight of it, shaking his head. “It hardly weighs five pounds…”
“Yet it delivers a mighty blow,” Murphy said. “Don’t stab me with it. I’ll cease to exist. Father Santos won’t get the pleasure of sending me on.”
“See how he teases me,” Father Santos said. “He’s never leaving this earth until it is covered in trees and he has his best friend at his side.”
~
Wayne wheeled his IV stand beside him as he returned to his bed from the bathroom. He no sooner got back into bed when they wheeled Jesse in. He was covered in heated blankets. The nurses gently moved him into bed, hung up his IV, and connected his oxygen before checking his vitals.
“Mr. Holden, your doctor would like you to drink warm fluids. We can offer you coffee, tea, or hot chocolate. If you’d rather, some soup can be brought up.”
“Herb tea if you have it, please,” Jesse said.
Father Simon walked in the room. He walked over to Wayne and took his hand. “I sincerely hope you’ll be out of here soon. That man will drive you insane.”
“I take it you’re talking about Scrub,” Kiki said, walking in with Alan. “What’d he do?”
“Tried to walk out of the emergency room without his clothes, and then he disappeared on his way to imaging.”
“I was misplaced,” Jesse said.
“I heard you used your gurney like a surfboard and paddled yourself down the hall with your apelike arms,” Father Simon said.
Alan started laughing. “Jesse, are you related to the Martins?”
“Why?”
“You’d fit right in. The stunts they pulled in Green Ridge Hospital are legendary.”
Jesse ignored him. “Kiki, I would like to leave now.”
“You can’t.”
“I’m not ill,” Jesse argued.
“You died,” Kiki said.
“Do I look dead?”
“Kiki, he was dead but not dead-dead,” Alan said, looking at his nails.
Father Simon recognized the phrase and smiled.
“I’d like to sue Bridgeton Atwater for assault,” Wayne said. “Will you recommend someone to take my case?”
“I can. You’ll have to prove it was him,” Alan said.
“I’m sure there are some fingerprints and handprints on that glass jar he hit me with.”
“But also mine and Cid’s,” Jesse said.
“If you’re worried about money, I’ll cover your healthcare,” Kiki said. “We have a hell of a disability clause built into this contract. That is, if we can deliver the house before all hell breaks loose.”
“What happened after I left the two of you?” Jesse asked.
“He wanted to see the completed list. He was talking all the time my back was turned as I was putting the paperwork together on the desk. It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, and then bash.”
“He hit you hard enough for us to hear it in the kitchen. Also, you’d make a fallen tree jealous. Boom! Down goes the mighty Walrus!” Jesse said.
Wayne grabbed his IV stand and advanced on Jesse.
“It’s the painkiller in his IV,” Kiki lied, putting herself between the two men.
Alan’s phone vibrated. He looked at the caller ID and excused himself.
“Where’s Cid?” Jesse asked.
“He’s holding the fort,” Kiki said. “Evidently, you can almost drown the man, serve him up frozen on dock, but he still keeps on working.”
“It must be his ghost hunter training,” Wayne said.
“He saved my life,” Jesse said.
“He wasn’t the only one,” Father Simon said. “You fell into the water. The current took you under the ice. Stephen Murphy chopped the ice away, and Cid dove in and found you. He had the forethought to tie a lifeline around him. When he had you, Carl and Pete pulled you both to safety, but you were dead, yes not dead-dead as Alan said, but dead.”
“Now you’re sounding like Dr. Seuss,” Jesse commented.
“Today hasn’t been my day,” Father Simon pouted. “First, the Italian ghosts think I’m a pirate of all things because of my accented Italian, and now I’m reduced to Dr. Seuss.”
“Dr. Seuss is not a reduction,” Jesse maintained.
An orderly arrived with a wheelchair. “Wayne Shipley?”
“Over here,” Wayne said.
“I’m to take you to imaging.”
“Why?”
“I’m just the transport.”
“Can I go along?” Kiki asked.
“You can’t go into imaging, but you can wait with him until they’re ready for him.”
“Wayne, is that okay?” Kiki said. “I’d like to have some one-on-one time.”
Wayne’s face turned from angry to calm. “I’d like that.”
Alan walked in and waited until Wayne and Kiki left before he closed the door.
Jesse looked over at the man. “Uh-oh.”
“I just finished talking to Mia. Cid called her because…. Well, listen.”
“Do you want me to leave?” Father Simon asked.
“No. Mia is very happy you’re with Jesse.”
“She had me record our conversation for you,” Alan said and set the phone up to play
