Fiction: Ghosts in Need

This month's Words for Wednesday prompts are provided by Sean Jeating and posted at River's blog over here. This week's prompts are: squad, cemetery, flowers, painted, cross and/or barely, money, eat, freedom, courage. Last week's prompts were: technique, think, taught, way, completely and/or learn, write, exist, reading, lost. The week before, the prompts were: dog, night, bed, knowledge, move and/or years, stupid, help, craftsmanship, lost. I couldn't fit craftsmanship in there.

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Fiction: Ghosts in Need
01 - It wasn't that Chrysanthemum 'Chris' Woo was afraid of ghosts but on the rare occasion a ghost might ask her to do them a favor since she could see them. 
    Working at the Dish Mat, an automat that offered pre-made food from vending machines, was as stress-free as she could get. The quiet atmosphere and little interactions with strangers made things easy but left her with too much free time to think about her divorce, her ex-best friend, her failed career, her missing niece or her dead father.
    For the first two days of each week, Chris was the lone worker in the automat and on Wednesdays, she shared duties with Paula Gregson who worked the other days. The overlapping day was Chris's mother's idea. She believed Chris needed a friend. 
    On an early Wednesday afternoon, Chris sat behind the counter in the back of the store and trying to read a novel but her concentration kept swaying. Paula was four hours late. Something in her guts told Chris something was wrong but she didn't know what to do.
    The bell above the door tinkled. She looked up but it wasn't Paula. Chris closed the book and took out a notepad and pen from the drawers. Doodling was a technique that often helped her think.
    Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed a man looking her way. She lifted her head for a look but he vanished. A ghost. He had been hanging around the Dish lately. Sometimes she sensed his presence. Other times, she only knew he was there when she happened to see him. Once or twice, she thought he might be her father who died 21 years ago when she was ten. This ghost was tall and lean with a slight bend in his back just like her father. Sometimes Chris thought she could see a likeness in his face that looked similar to her sister, Lemon, who looked like their father the most though all five sisters had his height and monolid eyes.
    Often, ghosts tended to appear in the automat but they never lingered. As most ghosts looked like the living, it was sometimes easy to mistake them except for the transparent and the invisible ones.
    The bell tinkled again but no Paula. Chris glanced at the empty chair on her left where Paula usually sat. Where was she? Why didn't she call or answer her phone? Chris took out her phone from her bag and called Paula again. No reply. Carefully, she typed on the tiny buttons: Where are you? and hit send.
    Paula's steady presence kept Chris in the world even when she hardly participated. She was also Chris' father's only brother's daughter. Chris' father had cut ties with his family when he married Chris' mother. He even changed his last name from Chan to Woo. But Paula somehow became part of their family.
    The bell above the door tinkled and Chris looked up. The man headed right toward her.  "Where's Paula? She forgot to leave the car keys. Where is she?"
    "I don't know," replied Chris. She couldn't help noticing his muscular arms through his black coat.
    The man ran a hand through his shoulder-length black hair. His deep-set eyes swept above her head and settled down on Chris. "You're Chrissy, right? Please tell Paula to call me if you see her. Name's John Way. Would you do that?" His blue eyes met her brown ones. 
    Chris nodded. "Yes." Paula had said John was an old high school friend.
    "Hello, Miss Chrissy."
    Chris jumped and veered her eyes toward her left. There was a man sitting in Paula's chair. His short blonde hair was neatly divided slightly toward his left. His shy smile disarmed her fright but his transparent form brought a little back. Chris' sister had a theory that ghosts who were transparent were new and those who appeared solid like the living were at a few years old and those who were invisible were probably ancient. But some transparent ghosts weren't dead.
    "Miss Chrissy, I know it's hard to believe but Paula sent me," said with a calm demeanor. Chris shivered. 
    "Are you okay?" 
    Chris looked up at John. Why was he still here?
    John veered his eyes toward the chair beside her and then back at Chris. "Do you..." He looked behind and around him. No one was paying attention to them. He lowered his voice and said, "Do you see a ghost?"
    "No! I don't see any ghosts." Chris slapped a hand on the table top.
    "But Paula said you can see them," said John.
    Chris shook her head. "No. I see nothing. You should leave."
    John nodded. "Okay. Well, tell Paula to call me if she turns up." He gazed at her for a moment and then left.
    "Miss Chrissy, I know you don't believe me. I hardly believed myself when I first woke up in this state two week's ago. I'm Cameron Mack. I'm not your imagination." He reached out and touched Chris' hand which went right through. Chris jerked her hand away. Why was it warmth she felt instead of a chill?
    "Miss Chrissy, Paula said I need to tell you something personal to make you believe me. So here it goes. You have a tattoo of a unicorn on your... I won't say it since it's on a delicate area. But I could've overheard you telling Paula that but I don't listen to other people's conversations."
    She turned to face him but settled on the right shoulder of his lemon-yellow sweater.  Paula was the only one Chris had told about her tattoo which she had gotten on a drunk night in college. But he was a ghost, so he might find out things even without eavesdropping.
    "Please, Miss Chrissy, go to Paula's apartment and see for yourself. I think Paula's hurt or else her ghost wouldn't have sent me to you." The man met her eyes.
    Chris looked away. If he was telling the truth, then Paula might be hurt and needed help. She stared down at her notepad, at her scribbles of Paula's name. 
    "It's okay. Paula's not dead."
    "I know that!" Chris' voice was a bit too loud. A few people turned their heads her way. She picked up her phone off the table, flipped it and held it to her ear. "I'll go to Paula's place. Give me some time," she whispered.
    "Then I'll wait for you, Miss Chrissy," said Cameron.
    Chris called Erin B who generally filled in for the sisters whenever one of them needed time off and asked her to come in.

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02 - Winding around heavy pedestrian traffic and seeing how the streets had changed reminded her she had been shut indoor too long. As her apartment was above the Dish, she rarely go far. She pulled her coat collar tight against the November wind.
    Chris had never been to Paula's apartment even though Paula had invited her many times. When Cameron appeared beside her, she averted her eyes. "Follow me, Miss Chrissy. I know a faster route," said Cameron. 
    Every few paces, Chris had to run to keep up with Cameron's fast gait and each time, he apologized. They were soon at the twenty-story, red-brick building's entrance.
    From within, John Way opened one of the double doors. "Welcome," he said. "And before you ask, Mrs. C sent me. She's worried about Paula."
    Chris walked past him and ignored the whiff of burnt toast and Old Spice, a cologne her father often wore. Inside, it was warm and clean. The walls were white marble and the high ceiling had a crystal chandelier hanging down. Mail boxes were on the left and elevators on the right. Chris headed that way.
    "Don't bother. It's out. Stairs on your left," said Cameron and John.
    She ignored them both and pushed the door to the stairs and entered. In their old place Chris and her family used to walk up fifteen flights to get to their apartment as the elevator was always broken. She had vowed to never live anywhere above the third floor. Paula's apartment was on the ninth.
    "Sorry about the stairs. But this is a terrific building. I had lived here before not that I can remember," said Cameron.
    By the fourth floor, Chris had to stop to take a breath.
    "Would you like me to carry you?" asked John from a fews steps ahead of her. Under the bright light, she could make out his lopsided grin.
    "No thanks." She forced herself to move. Cameron kept pace just one step ahead of her. By the time she was on the ninth floor, Chris could barely budge.
    John was standing by Paula's door and next door was an elderly woman in a wheelchair. She held out a key ring with two silver keys. "Hello, Chrissy. I'm Mrs. C. Here are Paula's keys." Her subtle smile was friendly.
    Chris took the keys and thanked the woman. 
    "I have to make lunch," Mrs. C said and wheeled inside and closed her apartment door.
    Once Chris opened Paula's apartment door, she wanted to leave. "Holy Fish! I'll wait out here," said John. He was grinning like a cat. "Just holler if you need anything or if you find a set of car keys." He closed the door. 
    Chris' eyes shifted over the clothes, towels, books, office supplies, empty boxes, unidentifiable objects all littered the entire space. The only areas that were clear were the window sills with two potted plants that looked dead and a small dinning area in the corner. Brilliant afternoon sunlight came through the windows framed by gold curtains. Surprisingly, nothing stank and there were faint scents of roses and coffee, just like Paula.
    "Paula's a slob. She thinks cleaning is a waste of time. I would have disagreed with her but sometimes I think—" Cameron stopped.
    "Chrissy! I'm so glad you're here!" Paula came rushing toward her and went right through Chris. A sensation of warmth went through Chris and then an image of a man with a goatee looking angry flashed through her mind. When the warmth left her, Chris turned to face Paula.
    "Sorry. I forgot I'm not in my body." Paula's purple and blonde hair, colorful tie-dyed shirt with Bored Since Birth and matching skirt and pink cowboy boots with yellow flowers were as bright as ever. "Chrissy, tell me the truth. Am I dead?" 
    Chris' heart began to race. She looked from Paula to Cameron who stood by with two golden retrievers by his feet.
    "No. You're not dead. You're just—" Chris didn't know what Paula was. "Lemon said— Just stopping thinking it." Chris also wanted to stop thinking it. She hoped Paula wasn't dead but just out of her body. As she shifted some things aside to make her way around the room, she wondered, Wasn't it a bit too intimate being in an apartment of someone you know not quite well?
    "Cameron said I'm— You tell her." Paula took a seat in the one of the chairs by the table in the corner. The dogs rushed to her side and she rubbed their heads.
    Cameron cleared his throat. "Miss Chrissy—" 
    "It's Chris." She hated being called Chrissy and yet when Paula did it, it didn't bother her.
    "Miss Chris, check the bedroom closet. Paula's in there. I mean, her...body," said Cameron. He pointed at the second door painted pink from the left.
    Chris opened the door to darkness. Her fingers traced the wall for the light switch and flipped it. The room was amazingly clutter-free. She thought to open the purple curtains but decided she didn't need an audience. Cameron stood by the doorway but Paula came in.
    The  build-in closet took over half the room. Chris opened the doors to a jammed pack space - all the clothes were crammed tightly together. She used pressure to to shift them around. When she spotted bare skin, she quickly grabbed clothes and threw them onto the floor until she could see Paula. She was slumped against the closet wall with eyes closed and dried blood down the side of her head. A muffled cry came from behind Chris. She didn't need to see that Paula was looking at the same thing.
    With a shaking hand, Chris reached toward Paula's neck - there was a pulse. She stepped back and turned to face the curtains. A strange stimulation ran through her. Calmly, she sat on the bed. Sitting beside her Paula wiped her tears. "All I remember was I had a fight with Bobby and then I don't know what happened after. It was probably Bobby who did this to me." She turned to Cameron in the doorway. "Cameron, tell Chrissy what you saw."
    Cameron nodded. "I heard Paula and Bobby arguing and when it was all quiet, I got worried so I took a peek. Bobby was dragging Paula here and then he was mopping the floor with a towel. The idiot probably thought she was dead. He stole some of her jewelry and cash. I don't know where he went but he made a phone call and fled."
    "That asshole! I should've dumped him. When I find him, I'll squeeze the life out of him!" Paula was scowling.
    Chris didn't think that would be any use. Revenge didn't help to ease anything but people kept writing them and putting them in books as if such thing existed.
    "I guess this means I'm dead," said Paula.
    "No, you're not dead. You still have a heart beat," said Chris.
    "I do? Really? So I'm alive. Yes!" Paula fisted her hands and grinned.
    When she was calm enough, Chris took out her phone from her bag and dialed 911.
    
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03 - After John had placed Paula on the bed, he stood looking down at her. "So you want me to carry Paula down nine flights of stairs because the ambulance will take too long? What do you think? I could fly her down or something?"
    Chris glanced at him. "I don't think Paula has the time to wait for the ambulance. Please, do this for Paula. She's your friend, isn't she?" If only Paula was a smaller woman. She could have carried her. 
    John ran a hand through his hair. "You know, Paula is not a small woman. I'm pretty strong but we're talking about nine flights of stairs."
     "I know it's a lot but we can take turns," said Chris though she was certain it would be impossible for her but she could try.
    "You carry Paula? With that thin pole you call a body? You'll break in two." John's eyes flickered to ghost Paula who had been standing in the corner. 
    Could he see ghosts? Chris had thought seeing ghosts was scary until she realized they were just like the living. Beside her sisters, it was rare to meet other people who could see ghosts.
    A buzz sounded. John got out his phone from his coat pocket. "I have to take this. Give me a minute." He stepped out of the room.
    Perhaps to distract herself or Paula, Chris said, "Paula, I think maybe John could see ghosts. Maybe we could..."
    "Test him. Yes!" Paula grinned.
    When John returned, Paula jumped in front of him. "Hello John. What do you think of my new bra?" Paula lifted up her shirt.
    John's eyes widened. He swiftly covered his eyes.
    "You jerk! You can see me. He can see me!" Paula lowered her shirt and pointed at John.
    A chuckle came from Cameron in the doorway. Chris grinned.
    John lowered his hand from his eyes. "No, I can't see a thing. Not even your bra!"
    "You jerk!" Paula slapped him but her hand went right through his face.
    "Yeah, that really hurts." He grinned. 
    "You jackass—" Paula rise her hand again but John run out of the room. Paula ran after him. Chris followed them out.
    John came around toward Chris. She slapped him. "Cut it out! We don't have time for this!"
    "You—" John rubbed his left cheek. Paula grinned. She raised her hand. "Maybe if I try again, I could slap you. I just need practice."
    John raced toward the door, opened it and halted. Mrs. C. was there. "Hello John."
    "Mrs. C, what are doing here?" said John.
    "I wanted to see how things are going. Chris, did you find Paula?" said Mrs. C.
    Chris nodded. "Yes, she—"
    "Don't tell Mrs. C what happened to me. And don't let her see me that way. She has a delicate heart," said Paula.
    "Paula's in the bedroom. She's a little hurt but she will be okay." Chris smiled.
    "Thank goodness. I heard them fighting this morning and then he left. I didn't think much of it even when I didn't hear her leave for work. I should've checked on her." Mrs. C fingered the silver cross hanging off her neck.
    "Mom, it's not your fault. It's that scumbag Bobby. He—" Cameron glanced at Chris and shook his head. "Don't tell my mom I'm here. It will just make her cry."
     She's his mother? He barely glanced at her while they were in the hall a moment ago. Chris looked away from Cameron and toward Mrs. C. "Mrs. C, it's not your fault. Things just happened. Paula will be fine."
    "Mrs. C, why don't you return to your place. We'll take care of Paula and we'll call you if anything else turns up." John wheeled her into her apartment and closed the door. 
    Back in Paula's place, John said, "Now, let's get down to business, Chrissy. Paula owns me big time but I'm mostly doing it for Mrs. C's sake. And if you happen to find those car keys, I wouldn't mind that." 
    Chris' head ached and she was hungry as she had not eaten lunch yet but she nodded. "I'll find those keys." She was willing to make any promise to save Paula.
    He rushed toward the bedroom with Chris following him. He looked around - at the piles of clothes half flowing out of the closet and half on the floor. Picking up a long pink scarf, he said, "Help me to strap Paula onto my back. Wouldn't want to drop her, you know." He grinned.
    With some cursing, some encouragement from Chris, a bit of scolding from Paula and a few compliments from Cameron, unconscious Paula was strapped onto John's back. Chris was to carry John's coat.
    Outside, Chris locked the apartment door. She was about to follow John and Paula toward the stairs when she noticed Cameron standing by with the dogs by his side. "Are you coming?"
    He shook his head. "No, I'm staying but do call my mom to let her know when Paula is safely in the hospital."
    "I will. Thank you." Chris smiled.
    He smiled and he and the dogs disappeared through Mrs. C's door.

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04 - With John carrying Paula, Chris followed with Paula's ghost behind her. The globe-shaped light sconces on the wall provided bright lights in the windowless stairwell. Their steps were loud against the steel stairs.
    "So Chrissy, tell me, did you really lock your ex in your house for two weeks?" John asked.
    "Where did you hear that? And it's Chris." There were no noise except for the ones they were making. Where were the other tenants? Was everyone waiting for the elevators to be fixed? 
    "Chris, right. Why do you ask when you know how Paula likes to talk."
    Chris looked behind her for ghost Paula but she wasn't there. They stepped down to the eighth floor. "Where's Paula?" Had Paula returned to her body? Maybe it was too hard to see her body like that. 
    "You're worrying about her? How about me with a body on my back?" John paused and glanced behind him. "I don't see her either. But she's probably alright. So Chrissy, did you really lock your ex in your house for two weeks?"
    "Now isn't a good time to talk about that." Chris didn't remember what she told Paula jumbled in with everything Paula said.
    "Now is the perfect time." He hoisted Paula higher. "If I have something interesting to listen to, I won't stop to think about why I'm doing this and decide to quit."
    "That's bribery."
    "If you say so."
    "I thought Paula is your friend."
    "She's more of Mrs. C's friend. So you did do it? Was he outrage like a giant balloon ready to pop?"
    "He barely seemed angry. Besides, it didn't harm him. He was having sex with his— mistress while I was lying in a hospital bed so he deserved it."
    "Why would you in the hospital? Why don't you start from the beginning."
    Chris didn't want to share and yet, why not? He had probably heard it all from Paula.
    "Five years ago, I was at a work meeting and the top boss was praising the works of two of my co-workers who accepted the accolades for ideas stolen from me. Then I got this text my niece was missing and then Amber, my then best friend, texted Ryan, my then husband, was leaving me for her. Something inside exploded and I got onto the conference table and bestowed my co-workers and everyone who treated me like crap with very particular words.  Two men tried to get me off the table and I fell and broke my hip."
    "Ouch! That sounds painful. I would have liked to be there to witness you dressing down those sons of bitches. What happened next?"
    It was pretty stupid when she thought about it. "They all thought I was drunk. I don't even recalled why I was laughing. I must have been crazy."
    "Well, sometimes you just have to go crazy - it's the only way." John sniffed. "Do you smell that?" 
    They had reached the seventh floor. There was a burnt scent in the air. Someone was standing by the stair door and holding a censer with smoke coming out. When the woman caught Chris looking she vanished along with the censer.
    "See, that?"
    "Yes. Have you always been able to see ghosts?" asked Chris.
    "Don't change the subject. So you were in the hospital and..."
    There was humming. A pair of girls were sitting on the steps blocking them. "Get lost," said John. The girls got up, smiled and vanished.
    "You know you could be a little nicer." Chris didn't know why she wanted to chide him for being rude.
    "Yeah but it's faster to be rude." He chuckled. "So, you were in the hospital..."
    "You cannot pass unless you tell me the secret code." An old man wearing a frayed, long, brown coat with gold trimmings, a tricorne on his head and wielding a sword was blocking the stairs. Chris had an instinct he was a ghost and yet, the sword gleamed under the light.
    "The secret code is: Your fly is open!" John grinned. Chris smothered a laugh.
    "I have no fl—"
    John kicked the sword out of the ghost's hand. It fell from his grip and clattered down the stair. A bang echoed.
    "Hey! That was a loan from 6C." The ghost turned to run down the stairs and vanished.
    "He could have hurt you!" No ghost had hurt Chris or any of her sisters before but they all agreed it was possible.
    "But he didn't. He just wanted to play." 
    "Play? That sword was real."
    "Yeah, so?"
    Chris didn't know what to say to that. They were on the sixth floor.
    "Where were we? The hospital. You were in the hospital..." John said.
    She had thought John would be distracted by the pirate but the man seemed to have a one-track mind.
    "I was in the hospital and I needed hip surgery. But I couldn't reach Ryan so I thought I check my house cams. And there was my idiot husband and my friend, having sex in our master bedroom. Anyway, my sister Lemon was with me and she was going to the house and kick his ass but I told her I had a better idea. 
    "Our house is electronic-controlled - all the doors and windows, gas, electric and heat - I just turned them off and since they were in the bedroom, they got locked in. I instructed my sister to let them out in a day or two but Lemon told me when she went to the house to get some clothes for me, she took their phones and left them for nine days. But Ryan somehow got his key to the bedroom so he was able to get out and get to the kitchen. Not having freedom for a few days was nothing. They deserved worst."
    "Damn, right, they do. And then what?"
    "When he came to visit while I still in the hospital, Ryan said he needed time away from me to think about his life choices. And to do that, he wanted a divorce. I agreed. He said being a house husband was hard work. Instead of cooking, he brought takeouts and microwave meals, instead of cleaning, he hired a cleaning woman and anything else needed, he just paid someone to do it. What hard work had he done? He even said having me paid for his expenses messed up his masculinity. Like he even care about that. I was a fool for not seeing through him."
    "You know what my foster mother said about people? She said, 'Anyone can be good, anyone can be worth believing except douchebags - those you have to kick in the ass and leave them behind.' Ryan is a douchebag."
    Chris laughed. She hated to admit she chose the wrong man to marry. It took her too long to learn her self worth was downsized when she accepted his and other people's patronization. 
    John chuckled. "Mrs. C would have given him a good tongue lashing."
    "Yes, I believe she would." Chris had a sense Mrs. C was a no nonsense woman. "Since the elevators are down, is Mrs. C alright alone?"
    "She's fine. I check on her when I can. I promised Cameron I would take care of her if anything happens to him."
    "Cameron..."
    "Cameron is still alive but nobody knows where he is. About two months ago, when Mrs. C had that accident, she lost Flipper and Willy and the use of her legs. She would've died if Paula hadn't been there. Asshole driver. He ran a red light. I got a call from the hospital about Mrs. C - I'm her contact if Cameron didn't answer his phone. I tried looking for him but I couldn't find him. We reported him missing to the police but they couldn't do anything. I'm still looking for him. I hate to upset Mrs. C so I don't tell her I see Cameron's ghost. Hold on." John paused.
    They were on the fifth stairwell. "Should I take over?" said Chris as she stepped beside him and noticing there was a hole in the shoulder of his black sweater.
    John's tan face was a bit red with sweat beads. "Nah. Just need a minute." He dropped down on his knees on the landing, lowered his head and stilled, looking like a defeated man. On his back, Paula looked as if she was just sleeping.
    Chris peered around her at the white walls but then she was spotted a man holding a lit blowtorch right in front of John. "Watch out!" Chris shouted and pressed John to the floor. He turned his face to look up at her, "Tell me you've gone crazy and I'll accept that explanation over a ghost."
    "You saw him? Why didn't you move?" Chris looked up but the man with the blowtorch wasn't there. She got off John and stood up.
     John grunted as he got onto his feet. He shifted Paula a bit higher. "That blowtorch wouldn't have been real or else I would have felt the heat."
    "But he looked solid." Where was her courage? How could she be frightened when she knew he was a ghost? She dusted John's coat which was starting to look like it needed some cleaning.
    John peered at his coat in her hands and looked away. "He was looking very alive but you must reason that it is unlikely a man with a blowtorch would be here when there's no construction going on. You have the instinct to know if a person is a ghost so why are you so timid about it?"
    "That's not true." And yet, it was true. Sometimes a part of her wasn't completely convinced by her own instinct. "I'm sorry about your coat. I'll be more careful." She gave him a small smile.
    He nodded. His stomach growled. "I guess I'm a little hungry. All I had for breakfast was two cups of very bad coffee and a piece of toast."
    "Want a ham sandwich?" Chris had packed her lunch in case she got hungry. She took out one of the sandwiches still in their plastic casing out of her shoulder bag.
    "Why not? What else you got there?" He took the sandwich from her.
    "Chocolate milk." She held out the carton.
    "Nah, I'm allergic." He opened the sandwich casing.
    "May I have something to eat?"
    They both turned to look behind them. A girl perhaps ten or twelve was holding out her hands. She wore a short sleeve t-shirt enveloping her like a large sack with bone-thin arms and legs, hollow cheeks and shadowed eyes. Though she was solid, Chris knew she was a ghost. "What's your name?" asked Chris.
    "Cassandra Anne Tina Sitchell." She smiled showing rabbit teeth.
    Chris took out the other ham sandwich, placed it at the girl's feet cladded in dirty sneakers and said, "This sandwich is for Cassandra Anne Tina Sitchell. May she enjoy this sandwich and never go hungry in her next life. Amend." Chris pressed her hands together, bowed and straightened up.
    The sandwich appeared in Cassandra's hand. "Wow! Thank you." She grinned and disappeared. Chris picked up the sandwich.
    "That is wow. How does it work?" John looked down and chomped down on his sandwich. 
    Did he had tears in his eyes? Chris wasn't sure. "You say a prayer for someone and the food appear to them. It doesn't always work." Chris had only done it once before this.
    "You're not sure how it works, do you? Well, you probably shouldn't do it again. Others will show up and wanting the same thing." He finished the last bit of sandwich and crumbled up the plastic casing. 
    Chris was going to dispute him but then a ghost appeared. "I want something to eat, too," said the boy who was wearing a one-piece pajamas.
    Once a food was sacrificed, it couldn't be use again but Chris still had a carton of milk.
    "Beat it, kid!" John glared at the boy.
    "I wasn't talking to you!" said the boy. He turned to grin at her. "Pretty please, lady."
    "Just one more. What's your name?" said Chris.
    The boy's smile faded. "I don't have a name."
    "I'm sorry but it only works if I can use your name otherwise..." Chris hated to turn him down.
    "I DON'T HAVE A NAME!" The boy screamed and stormed off and walked through the wall. His last word echoed.
    "I guess he's having a bad day. Shall we move on?" John looked tired.
    Chris nodded. She grabbed the crumbled casing from him and put it inside her bag. She hated to littering. 
    There was a sudden cacophony of voices. A bunch of ghosts appeared and encircled behind them.
    "See what happens when you stop to help needy ghosts? Let's hurry!" John rushed down the stairs. Chris rushed after him. She hated to admit it but John's right. She shouldn't have offered anything at all. "How come they weren't here before when we were coming up?"
    "Ghost won't stop you from coming in but they like to stop you from leaving."
    John seemed to know a lot. Chris wondered how long he had been seeing ghosts.
    They passed the fourth stairwell and was down toward the third where John ran right through a whole bunch of ghosts. Chris went after him, closing her eyes a few times until the shiver was gone.
    "You know, it's not a good idea to walk through ghosts, not with Paula on your back. You might not care about getting chilled but Paula does." Chris didn't like chills the ghosts gave off - they were twice as cold as regular cold.
    "Paula? You're thinking of her? I'm here because of her and your dumb belief you have to help ghosts."
    "Dumb belief? You have the same belief. I saw how you looked at Cassandra. You were compelled to help her too."
    "I don't disagree with you but I wasn't pitying her. She just remained me of someone I once knew. Besides, I wasted enough of my youth helping ghosts to know most of the time, it's best to leave them alone. Neither one of us have to help them."
    "You're a cynic."
    "I'm a realist. But you might get together with other sympathetic ghost lovers and form a squad and give therapy to ghosts." He laughed. "Wouldn't it be better to pay more attention to the living?" 
    Chris scoffed. But he wasn't wrong. Chris' father had taught them no matter what, they should first protect the living and worry about the ghosts later.
    Down the final two flights, there a scatter of ghosts. "Why are there so many ghosts in this building?"
    "About fifteen years ago, while this building was being constructed, the owner had a brilliant idea to let some of the tenants moved in. When a part of the building collapsed, some of the workers and tenants were buried. You can think of this place as some sort of cemetery for those people. If that jerk builder didn't gobble up the money and hired cheap and inexperienced labors, none of them would have died. Oh, if you see some guy peeing in the corner, ignore him."
    Just as they turned down the second flight, there was a guy peeing in the corner. Chris averted her eyes.
    Going down was easier but she was exhausted by the time they got down to the ground floor. John led them to his car parked just a few minutes walk away. He insisted on driving even though he looked weary.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

05 - It was night by the time Paula was safely in the hospital. Chris called Mrs. C to let her know about Paula and Erin to ask her to close the store and texted her sisters about Paula.
    John offered to drive Chris home but she hesitated. On the way to the hospital with Paula, the man drove like a demon being chased. 
    "Relax. I'll drive slower this time." He grinned lopsided. 
    In the car, she didn't try to converse since they were both tired. After a short silence, John said, "Shouldn't you apologize for slapping me?" 
    "I'm sorry I slapped you. Well, just a little bit sorry." Chris could understand why he would hide his ability but the way he openly asked if she saw a ghost got her mad.
    "Just a little?" He chuckled. "That was Paula's decision to show me her bra. I have nothing to do with that."
    She laughed. 
    "Since we no longer see Paula, do you think she had returned to her body?" asked John. 
    "Yes. I thought you know about these things," replied Chris.
    "I've acquired some knowledge relating to ghosts but I'm no expert. I rarely meet ghosts who are still alive. Paula is my second. When she slapped me, I felt a warmth so that's how I know." 
    He felt Paula's warmth but did he see anything with it? Chris still wasn't sure why she saw that man with the goatee when Paula's ghost walked through her. "Does Bobby have a goatee?"
    "Bobby? He thought he looked like a superstar with that goatee but he looks like a goat to me. Why are you asking about him all of a sudden?" He glanced briefly at her.
    "No reason." She smiled at him.
     "What are the chances Paula would wake up to see ghosts? That's how I got my ghost-seeing ability. I was perfectly normal before I had that near-death experience when I was ten."
    Why did he had to bring up the ghost-seeing thing? All her life, Chris had been seeing ghosts but she didn't wonder too long on how other people got to see ghosts.
    "But of course it's rare for that to happen so forget what I said. Hey, do you want to go get a burger? I know a great place."
    "No thanks. I want to go home and sleep." Chris just wanted to enjoy Paula being alive and worry about the other things later.