The First Church (3 page)

“Come on, mom,” Jim said.  “You married
dad, he
’s a soldier.  Grandpa was a Marine.”

“I am a Marine still,” his grandfather snapped.  “I also gave my eyes for our country, Jim.  Your mother and I don’t like you fighting.  You know that. 
Do not get Matt back tomorrow.”

Jim opened his mouth to answer, but his words were drowned out by the roar of sirens.

His mother got out of her chair and left the room.  She came back a minute later
, and said, “A cruiser and a pair of ambulances just pulled in at the Church.”

“Do you want me to go see what’s going on?” Jim asked eagerly, pushing his chair away from the table.

“No,” his mother said, shaking her head.  “I’m sure we’ll learn soon enough.”

“Your mom’s right, James,” his grandfather said.  “Town’s too small for information not to rip through it.  We’ll see how much of it is the truth when all is said and done.”

The phone rang, and Jim’s mom answered it.

“Hey,
Alice.  No
… no, I don’t know what’s going on
…” his mother said.  Her eyes took on a faraway
look, and she brushed a stray lock of
brown hair back into place.  “Oh,
well, do they know who … really?
  Okay.  Alright.  Yes, yes
, thank you, Alice, I’ll talk to you soon.”

She hung up and looked to Jim before she sat down.  Quietly
, she interlocked her fingers and set her hands on the table.

Jim’s heart beat nervously.

She’s upset
, he thought.  She only did the finger trick when she was
really,
really
worried.

“What is it, Karen?” His grandfather asked.

“Alice Wetherbee,” Karen said, pronouncing each syllable carefully.  “She said two boys are hurt
in the Church.”

“Who?” Jim asked.

“Carlton Talbot and Matt Espelin
,” his mother said, looking at him.  “James Joshua Bogue, did you have anything to do with
this?”

“No,” Jim said, surprised at the question.

“I hope not,” his mother said in a low voice.  “I’m pretty sure the police are going to ask you the same thing.”

Chapter 4: The First Congregationalist Church

Brian didn’t see anyone who was dead.

And he was happy as hell about it.

He was afraid to meet the ghost who had destroyed the eyes of the two teenagers.  Brian had seen enough combat related injuries in his time, but the loss of an eye disturbed him.  The thought of complete blindness scared him even more than
Florence had, and Florence had been terrifying.

Brian leaned against his car and smoked a cigar.  He
tried to keep calm as he watched the police speak with Rever
end Joe.  The Rev nodded and then
pointed at a tall, saltbox Victorian, which stood on a corner half a block away from the Church.

Brian took his phone out and sent Jenny a quick text.

Hey Babe, can you do a search and see if any type of ghost specializes in blinding people.

He reached into the car, tapped the head of the cigar into the ashtray and t
urned back to the Church.  The
Reverend nodded to the police and then walked to Brian as the officers headed towards the Victorian.

“Reverend,” Brian said.

“Mr. Roy.
”  He took a handkerchief out of his back pocket, wiped the back of his neck and sighed.

“I’m assuming the injuries are permanent?” Brian asked.

The Rev only nodded.

“But, they’ll both live?” Brian said.

“I think the EMTs said so,” Rever
end Joe said, with a sigh.  “There’s really no way to tell.  I’ve known people to die of shock from injuries such as those.”

“And I’ve seen men joking with their buddies after losing both legs below the knees,” Brian said evenly.

The Rev looked at him, shocked.

“Of course, shock
could kill them,” Brian said.  “My point is
, I’ve seen a hell of a lot worse things
happen.  I think the boys will be okay.  They’re young, resilient, and if they have any sort of fight in them, they’ll be fine.”

“I certainly hope so, Mr. Roy,” the Rever
end said, looking at the Victorian.  “I do certainly hope so.”

A stately, elegant woman stepped out the front door of the Church.  With long, even strides
, she walked directly to Reverend Joseph.

“Reverend,” she said, coming to a stop a few feet away.

The woman looked to be in her seventies, but Brian suspected she might be older.  Her silver hair was pinned back neatly, and she wore
light
makeup.  Pearls hung from her
ears, and while the clothing she wore was aged, it was clean and well cared for.

“Ah, Mrs. Staples,” the Rev said, giving the woman a
warm smile.  “This is
Brian Roy.”

Brian took the cigar out of his mouth and bowed slightly.  “Mrs. Staples.  Would you mind if I put the cigar in the car before we speak?  I don’t want the smoke to bother you.”

Mrs. Staples smiled and nodded in approval. 

Brian took care of the cigar and turned back to her, saying, “My apologies.”

“Not at all, Mr. Roy,” she said.  “My late husband enjoyed cigars, and he put them away when I was near.  I appreciate you doing the same.  Before we begin, however, I came out primarily to give this to the
Reverend.”

She took a cellphone out of her coat pocket and handed it over.

The Reverend nodded. “Thank you.”

“Whose is it?” Brian asked.

“One of the boys, we presume,” Mrs. Staples said.

“I asked her to hold onto it for me,” the Reverend said, blushing slightly. “I didn’t want to risk the police seeing me with it.”

“Why didn’t you give it to the police?” Brian asked, confused.

“Because,” the Reverend said uncomfortably, “We’re not exactly sure what happened, and I’d rather see if anything is on it
.  Now, the video selection was on when I found it.  I
suspect those two were recording something.”

“As do I,” Mrs. Staples said. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have to go and clean the office, as soon as the police are done in there.”

Mrs. Staples looked at Brian and said, “Blood is terribly difficult to clean.”

Chapter 5: Reviewing the Footage

The office was a crime scene and taped off.

Brian’s phone chimed,
and he looked at it quickly. 

A text from Jenny.

Nothing, Babe.  Be safe.  Love you.

Love you too,
he sent back before he put the phone away.

Brian looked up and nodded at the Rev.  The two of them sat in a pew in front of the pulpit. 
Reverend Joe’s hands shook as he passed the boy’s cellphone to Brian.

The smart phone was a newer Samsung
model, unlocked, and easy to use.  When he brought the video up
,
Brian muted the sound.  He was pretty sure the
Reverend wouldn’t handle any noises well.

Especially since they were probably going to see, if not hear, at least one of the boys being blinded.

“You don’t have to watch this,” Brian said.
      

The Rev nodded.  “I may not be able to.”

“No shame,” Brian said.  “No shame at all.  Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

Brian hit play.

A headless figure stood just inside of the room.  He wore a uniform, absent of insignia or rank, but it was
khaki
and looked like it came from World War Two.  The dead man’s hands opened and closed.

“There’s Carlton,” Rever
end Joe said, pointing at the boy in the shot, who was filming the ghost as well.  “This is Matt’s phone then.”

Brian only nodded.  He was more intent on the footage.

The camera remained focused on the headless man, who advanced towards Carlton.  The boy, in turn, took a nervous step back.

But not far enough, and not quickly enough.

The ghost brought his hands up and grabbed Carlton’s head.  The headless man buried his thumbs in the teenager’s eyes.

Reverend Joe whimpered and turned away.

Brian didn’t.

He watched the boy collapse and the ghost shake the jellied remnants of Carlton’s eyes off of his thumbs.  The camera stayed on the headless man as he moved towards Matt.

A second later, the screen went dark.

Brian put the phone down on his leg and looked at the Rever
end. 

“It’s alright now, Rever
end,” Brian said soothingly.  “It’s over.
What I don’t understand though, is why didn’t the second boy run? Why did he keep recording?”

Cautiously,
he turned back to face Brian and avoided the phone.  “
I really don’t know, Brian. But I have to say, I’ve never seen anything so terrible.”

I have,
Brian thought.  But he kept the information to himself.  “It’s bad.  No doubt about it.  Now
,
put this out of your head.  What’s done is done, and it’s terrible.  We need to focus on figuring out why the ghost is here.  The uniform is definitely a military one, and I’ll look online to see if I can spot it.  It looks familiar.  Can you start talking to some
of your church members and see if anyone has brought anything of a military nature into the building?”

“You think someone did this on purpose?” the Reverend asked, looking horrified at him.

Brian shook his head.  “No, not necessarily.  Sometimes
,
things happen.  Ghosts cling to objects.  If the object was brought here, a donation, anything, the ghost could be stuck here.  Do you think you can start asking around?”

“Yes,” the Rev answered.  “Yes, of
course, I can.”

“Excellent.  Now, can I borrow this phone?” Brian asked.  “I’d like to use a still
photo
of the ghost to try and identify the uniform.  Also, I need to listen to it.  I want to hear if the ghost said anything.”

“How?” the Rever
end asked.  “He’s headless?”

Brian gave him a small smile.  “Why not?  He shouldn’t be here to begin with.”

Rever
end Joe frowned for a minute, and then he smiled tiredly.  “Yes.  Yes.  You’re right.”

He stood up and looked down at Brian.  “I’ll start asking around, Mr. Roy.  And I must visit the boys at the hospital.  I’ll need to check in on their parents as well.”

“Could I have your cell
phone number?” Brian asked.  “Just in
case, something comes up?”

“Yes,” the Rev said.  He took a business card out of his breast pocket and handed it to Brian.  “I have your number still.”

“Good,” Brian said.  He put the phone in his pocket as he stood.  “I’ll give you a call as soon as I find anything out.”

“I will do the same, Mr. Roy.”

They shook hands and Brian left the church.

He needed to find a place with Wi-Fi so he could do some research.

Chapter 6: An Interview

Jim wasn’t nervous, although his mother looked like she was ready to crawl up the walls.  She tapped her fingers on the top of the dining table, which still had the dirty dishes from dinner on it.

His grandfather remained in his seat, his eyelids permanently closed, his hands clasped loosely together on the lap of his black pants.

Jim’s mother had put the leftovers into the fridge when the police had knocked on the door.

One was a male state police detective, the other, a female Rye
police officer. 

They don’t look happy
, Jim thought. 

The Rye cop was a woman.  She didn’t have any makeup on as far as Jim could see, and her black hair was pulled back into a ponytail.  Her dark blue uniform and the body armor under it, hid her shape, so he couldn’t tell if she was naturally big, or just a little large
from
the protective gear.  She had thin lips, though, and there was a deadly look of seriousness in her brown eyes.

The detective looked like he should have been a school teacher.  He almost had a happy-go-lucky air about him.  He didn’t look anything like a detective.  His hair was a light brown, short, and his face was thick.  His eyes were a lighter brown than the Rye officer’s, and there were white hairs scattered through the neat beard he wore.