Nana I could talk to.
Nana got me. Nana was my rock and
the one person my dad would listen to. I
could hang out at her place when things at my house were tense. In fact I’d stay there during most weekends. I could relax and be myself - not walking on
egg shells all the time.
I had the feeling my grandmother never really approved of
my mother but oddly enough – once she died – Nana made it a point to make sure
I remembered her. She would tell me
stories about the night I was born and how Mom drove herself to the hospital
while they tried to find my dad at work.
How I learned to walk holding my mom’s keys because I’d be so focused
stealing them and then not notice that I was actually moving my chubby toddler
feet while she pretended to try to catch me.
She had the record from the musical “Cinderella” and would hold me I her
arms and sing “Ten Minutes Ago I Saw You,” while she waltzed my three year old
self around the living room (just to be clear, I’m not a musical theatre fan
but that song I like – ‘nough said).
“A picnic at Mom’s gravesite? That sounds kinda weird Nana,” I said
matter-of-factly. “They do it all the time in Europe as a way to
still include family members after they’ve passed,” Nana said brushing back her
salt and pepper bangs out of her face.
“Besides, if you are going to be Ghost Butler – “ “Ghost Buster!” I
corrected. “Okay, if you are going to
be investigating ghosts, you might as well be comfortable in graveyards,” she
replied. I had to admit – she had a
point.
That afternoon, we packed a cooler with a lunch that
included Mom’s favorites – cold fried chicken, three bean salad, peach cobbler,
biscuits and cola. We rode out to the
gravesite which was under a large oak tree which my mom would have loved. We put a blanket down next to her gravestone
– which read – “Angela Bronson – Loving Mother
- 1951 to 1984.” We’d been out
almost every week in the four months since she died and it still seemed
surreal. It was like a bad dream that I
hoped to wake up from and everything would be fine. But she was dead and everywhere I looked had
a painfully empty space that never seemed to be in focus. Nana and I sat on the blanket and put down
the lunch. Nana would address Mom first
and tell her what we were eating.
I tried to feel like she was with us – physically she was
just six feet under but
that’s not where my mom lived – it just was where her
body was – that’s all. I liked to go to
the back yard of our little house and remember how she pushed me on the swing
that was still attached to the tree limbs outside the kitchen window. The seat was deteriorating but it was still
part of my mom and me. She lived at the
movie theatre where we saw Ghost Busters
and the Star Wars movies over and
over. A beautiful day at the park where she taught
me how to ride a bike – that’s where she lived.
Her gravesite was just a goulish fucking piece of real estate – a sad
reminder that she was gone. The finality
of it sucked the wind out of me.
I closed my eyes and tried to picture her next to us –
just sitting and watching. I tried to
talk to her when I was at Nana’s or at home when my dad was at work but it
never felt like she was there. I was
beginning to doubt whether I believed in an afterlife – whether it was even
worth believing in. I tried everything I
could to contact her including a Ouija board – but that was bust. All it felt like was me pushing a piece of
plastic trying to get the answers I wanted.
I’d give anything to see her one
more time but instead I was sitting at her graveside telling her about school
and how much I wanted to be done with it and on my own. Nana listened patiently – she never made me
feel like what I was saying or feeling was nonsense. I guess that’s why I never really talked to
my dad – he could never accept what I had to say without challenging it.
We wrapped up the picnic and put it back into the car. I just sat there – looking at the tree and
the gravestone in the distance wishing I could go back in time and tell my mom
to stay put – to not try drive back to get me on an icy road in the middle of
January. I knew it was her decision to
leave my dad and it was her decision to come back to see me – but it still didn’t take
away the guilt of knowing if she hadn’t loved me so much – she’d still be
alive.
“Nothing,” I said then thinking fast I added, “It’s just
cool that you saw a ghost –I’d like to one day.” “Well tonight might be your lucky night,”
Bruce responded while wiping the sweat from his forehead with his t-shirt. “If you can go into that theatre and stay
there for 20 minutes by yourself - not only will you see a ghost but you’ll get
the award in school for biggest badass.”
The respect of my peers would be nice but seeing an honest to God ghost
would be the cherry on the sundae. “Meet
us there at the theatre around 11:00 pm and we’ll see if you can take it,”
explained Bruce. Holy shit, not only was I going to hang out
with the toughest guys in school, I might actually capture a ghost on
video. Finally, my dreams of being a ghost
investigator might come true.
When Nana picked me up, I asked her about the old theatre
and if there were any ghosts that she knew of.
“I’ve heard tell of people seeing a Miner around the back stage area but
I never saw him even though I did some plays there ages ago,” she replied. “The theatre was built over an old abandoned
mine and the scuttle butt is that he died in that mining accident in 1950 –
they never did find his body.” “Whoa,
how come I’m just learning about this now?
You know how I love ghosts,” I replied excited that this ghost might be
legit but pissed that no one told me we might have a bona-fide haunting in our
town. Those guys were not bullshitting
me after all. “Hey, Grandma – do you
still have that Beta video camera we got at that garage sale?” I asked
sweetly. “Yes, and you still have to
show me how to operate the thing – I paid a whole $50 for it,” she replied. “Let me take it home tonight and I’ll show you tomorrow.” I could tell that Nana knew something was up but
she let me have the camera anyway.
That night – I waited for my Dad to finally fall
asleep. He was pretty hammered at dinner
so I knew it wouldn’t take long. Luckily the old theatre was off the town
square which was about a half mile from where I lived. I got Nana’s camera with
video in the case and quietly walked out of my house. I wondered if the guys would meet me there –
if not – I had a camera and would gather my own proof.
As I walked on the quiet streets of Dawsonville, I wondered
if I would capture my mother on video. I
didn’t want to think she was a ghost but I wanted to get proof that she was
around - that her death was not final. My
heart was a gaping wound once I found out that she was dead but if could talk
to her one more time – to just see her – even if it was as an apparition I felt
that I could move on. When I arrived at
the theatre – Bruce and Greg were there waiting. “So you showed up – we were laying odds that
you would be too afraid to be here,” Bruce said with a sneer. “I’m here and I brought a camera to document
what I see – “ “Hey that’s a good idea –
why haven’t we done that? Your family
has the money - ” suggested Greg who looked like he was beginning to question
Bruce’s leadership. “Shut up ass-wipe,”
replied Bruce, “let’s just see if he gets anything. We’ll lock you in and you have 20 minutes to
stay in there – if you run out before then – it means you are a total chicken
shit – but stay in and got some evidence on video then I might actually let you
be my friend.” I was close to saying
something sarcastic but I bit my tongue since these guys were supposed to lock
me in and let me out. “Okay, Jack – good
luck – you’re going to need it,” Greg said sincerely which threw me.
I put the camera on my shoulder, flicked on my flashlight
and walked into the theater. The sliver
of light from the street lamps narrowed and disappeared as the door closed with
a thud along with the clicking of the locks.
My heart started to beat quickly and the darkness of the theater started
to engulf me. I turned the flash light
towards the stage with its once majestic red velvet curtains now in
shreds. The smell of mildew and wood rot
was pretty strong as I walked towards the stage. There were old playbills all over the
floor. The light booth had been removed
and was just a big hole in the back of the theater. The few seats that remained were tattered
with the moldy foam rubber peeking out.
It was dead silent except for the sound of dripping water which would
explain all the rot.
As I approached the side isle to go to the back of the
theater, the hair on my arms started to stand on end. The spot where I was got cooler which could
have meant a draft but for my money – I knew it was a ghost. “Mom?” I asked hopefully but I heard nothing
as I usually did when I called out for her.
Things were too quiet so I
decided to see if I could stir things up.
“Hey Coal Minor Ghost – come on out – I’m not afraid of
you.” There was silence. The silence pissed me off. My mother would not talk to me in the
afterlife but I was going to be goddamned if some stupid Coal Miner showed
himself to Bruce (a guy named Bruce for God’s sake!) would not show himself to
me. I had the camera. I knew what to do. I was interested in ghosts long before Greg
or Bruce. I was going to stay as long
as I needed to get evidence. “Hey,
ghosts, I’m not afraid and I demand that you show yourself or make some noise!”
I said more sternly or as stern as a gangly 14 year old could get. Still nothing. Now, I was getting seriously pissed. The start of my ghost hunting career rested
on this. “Do you fucking hear me? I demand you show yourself!” I was angry because death should not be
final. I couldn’t let it be. My mother was not gone, she had to be here or
somewhere and I was going to find her.
If I tried hard enough, she would find me. She tried to get me when she died – on that
icy road four months ago. She and I - we
had more to say to each other. I needed
to hear it and not through a Ouija board – that was for amateurs. My anger was welling up and pushing out
through tears – but I was not going to let this ghost see me cry or think he
was the reason. I wanted to punch
something but my hands were full of a camera which was getting really heavy.
“Young man, if you are going to come in here trying to
wake the dead, you are going to do it with some manners. You do not come in here cussing like a sailor
and screaming like a banchee –because we the undead will teach you the manners
your mother has taught you and that you have obviously forgotten. Now, get your skinny white ass out of my sight
until you can come back resembling some kind of gentleman.”
I stood there still not believing what I was seeing or
hearing. I started to 
“Where are Greg and Bruce?” I asked still trembling. “Those two boys were just standing outside and laughing while they heard your screams – I walked up and asked them what the hell they were doing and they took off, those little pissers!” “How did you –“ I couldn’t finish my sentence. “Your father got up to turn off the TV and couldn’t find you. He called and figured that you were with me –which I let him believe because if he knew you were here, he’d tan your hide. I’m having a hard time not taking switch to you myself. What the hell were you thinking? Anything could have happened in there – forget about ghosts – there are drug addicts that like to live in abandoned places like this, you could have gotten hurt or killed!”
I tried to say something but all I could do was look down at my sneakers and the camcorder – which right now was my best friend – it might have caught footage of the ghost talking and all this would have been worth it. “Let’s go back to my place, you probably have a few sets of clothes for tomorrow at school,” she said curtly. I understood why she was mad but if the footage could show the ghost - there would be redemption.
We got back to Nana’s house and I tried to show her the
video I had taken. We got the playback
up and started to watch. My camera work
was pretty shaky but then I was pretty scared.
It didn’t look like much – it was rather grainy in the dark until the
spotlight came on and there was movement within it. Some people might say it was my shadow but
from the angle I was shooting at – I could not have made it. I
looked at Nana and she looked at me.
“Well, Jack you might just might have gotten a ghost on video!” I could not wait to tell Bruce and Greg what
I got.
The next day, they were at the lockers surprised that I
was at school. “Dude, we heard you screaming
and then this old lady showed up-“ Greg said excitedly. Bruce looked like he was trying to keep his
cool but we all knew they were the ones who ran away and left me there. “Yeah, grandma bailed you out – nice going –
did you tell her where we were?” he accused thinking he could turn his
cowardice back on me. “No, I just asked
her about the theatre and when my dad couldn’t find me, she put two and two
together. But I did get some footage of
the ghost on camera –“ I said
triumphantly. “No shit, for real?” Greg
responded with admiration – it looked like Bruce was beginning to lose his
lackey. “I’ll believe it when I see it
–“ he said trying to make me out as a liar.
“You can – I have it set up at Nana’s – just come on over and see for
yourself,” I said supremely confident.
“Oh, goodie a trip to Grandma’s house – is she going to give us milk and
cookies,” Bruce quipped sarcastically.
“Do you think she would? I love
the kind of cookies Grandma’s make – they are always so warm and soft in the
middle – “ Greg gushed. This guy was mine for the taking if I could
just show him the video. “Shut up
Greg. Okay, we’ll see your little tape
and if it’s legit – maybe it can get on the news.” I had not thought of the news but that would
definitely make a splash in this town.
When Nana picked me up I had Bruce and Greg with me. “Hey Nana, could Bruce and Greg come back to
your place and see the video I shot?”
“Also,” Greg interjected, “did you happen to bake any cookies?” I could see Nana’s feminist ire start to stir
up – “Young man, I happen to work full time and not all grandmothers bake –“
she said with a wink – “but as luck would have it – yes – I actually did just
bake some cookies before I came to pick Jack up.” “Score!” Greg and I said together but Bruce
didn’t say a thing – he just looked at us like we were babies for wanting
cookies.
I felt great.
“Nana, did you see that? They
both saw what we saw –“ I said as I sat down on the couch and started to rewind
the tape. The player kept flashing and
error code. “What the hell?” I looked into
the betacam and the tape was gone!
“Shit, Nana, the tape is gone,” I said figuring out pretty quick who
could have taken it. “That sneaky little
fuck,” I said. “Jack – your
language! Are you sure it’s gone?” “Yes Nana, Bruce had to have taken it while
we were saying goodbye to Greg,” I was crestfallen. Nana tried to call Bruce’s house but there
was no answer and it being a Friday night – I would have to wait until after
the weekend to confront him about it at school.
That night all I could think about was the video. If Bruce did steal it – he was going to get
an ass-kicking – I didn’t care how much bigger he was then me. As I closed my eyes I saw my mother like she
was when I was three – younger and laughing with my dad when who was smiling
because he was home on leave from Vietnam.
She touched my hair and told me it was going to be alright. Suddenly, I saw the scene shift and saw the
Coal Miner ghost getting back in my face.
He was laughing with half his face caved in with blood everywhere. I woke up in a sweat barely able to
breathe. I reached for my Pup-Pup to
comfort me which was one of many advantages to spending the night at
Nana’s. My dad didn’t like the idea of me
having stuffed animals in my room because it made me a “sissy.” Nana had saved Pup-Pup when my father
threatened to throw him out. I grabbed
the stuffed dalmation my mother had given me as a toddler, turned on my clock
radio and listened to music until I fell back to sleep.
I wanted to confront Bruce so bad – I was willing to go
to his house to do it. We didn’t know
where he lived but his family was pretty prominent so Nana was making phone
calls on Saturday afternoon around lunchtime when an interesting news story
popped on the TV.
The mid-day news anchors threw it over to a petite blond reporter
standing outside the old theater. “I’m
standing here with Bruce Dane, a young Ghost Buster who actually might have
caught a ghost in video while camping out here at the old Dawsonville Community
Theater. Many people have claimed to see
the ghost that haunts this theater but no one has gotten evidence until
now.” “That sneaky little fuck,” Nana
whispered under her breath. “Bruce, how
did you get this footage?” “Well I
snuck in late on Thursday because I knew this theater was being torn down today
– so I wanted to take a shot and see if I could find the old Coal Miner they
say died in the mine this theater is built over and I did!” “Interesting, the footage in compelling but
the voice of person shooting it does not sound like you,” the reporter noted.
Bruce started to look uneasy. “Good,
nail him lady!” I said thinking it would be even better than me confronting him
if he was exposed as a fraud right there on TV. “Puberty ma’am, my voice changes a lot,” he
said quickly recovering. “We’re going to roll the footage of the
‘supposed’ ghost that Bruce caught and our viewers can make their own minds
up.”
The footage of the spotlight and the shadow actually
looked more compelling on the news channel and they were able to close up where
you could see the face and mouth moving.
The blond reporter smiled – “So there you have it – the town’s Coal
Miner ghost on video. You have to wonder
where he’ll go once this theater is torn down today. I’m Christie McKay, Channel 4 Action News.” The news anchors at the main desk looked
impressed. “Thanks Christie – well that
sure is interesting. I’m not sure I
believe in ghosts, but that video is certainly intriguing. In other news, four cows shut down I-136 this
morning – it seems the misguided bovines had gotten loose from their pasture-“
Nana shut off the TV.
“Nana, we need to go to the theater and confront him – I
want my video back.” Nana thought about
for a nano-second. “You’re right Jack –
in the past I would have told you to let it go – but this is just plain
wrong. Let’s get that little asshole.” We jumped into her car and she sped to the
downtown area which consisted mostly of private shops, a few restaurants and
cafes and the old theater which was now going to be torn down for a new
Builder’s Square with the hope that large store would bring back the down-town
area. It had turned into a festival with
tents for food, moonwalks for the little kids, etc.
The roads were blocked as the demolition of the old
theater was going to commence. But
through traffic jam on the road into downtown (which for Dawsonville was big in
1984) I happened to see Bruce and his dad talking to a group of people. “I see
them Nana-“ I jumped out of the car and started running towards them before Nana
could stop me. “Hey Bruce, where the
hell is my video?” I yelled as I ran up to him.
“What, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied
uncomfortably trying not to make eye contact.
“You know, the footage you stole yesterday when you were at my Nana’s
house with Greg.” I looked over and saw
Greg nearby who was trying to move away as far as he could. “Hey Greg, you were there – you saw it,” I
yelled knowing I would get some back-up – Greg was a decent guy. He just looked down – “Hey, I’m not sure I
know what you’re talking about,” he said feeling like a deer in headlights
about to be torn apart by two different sets of hunters. “Look, he took the footage a couple of days
ago –“ replied Mr. Dane in fierce defense of his son. “Where the hell did he get the camera? Huh –
where did you get the camera you liar!”
I yelled. “It’s the family
camera,” he said as he pointed to the case that his father was holding. “No, you stole it from my Nana – from a
grandmother who gave you snickerdoodles!”
At this the crowd started mummer – you don’t steal from grandmothers
especially ones that make delicious cookies.
“Look, son, Bruce got the footage fair and square and nothing you say
will change that,” Mr. Dane said like
the defense attorney he was. A few of
the Chamber of Commerce business guys started to try to get me to shut up. It didn’t phase me – I wanted Bruce to admit
the truth. “He and Greg locked me in the
theater and then ran away when they heard my screams – that’s my voice on the
video – Jesus – you have to believe me –“ I pleaded.
The crowd started to gather but then the alarms sounded
and the news
Nana ran up and saw my face. “C’mon on Jack. Let’s go home and try to figure you how to
make this right.” “There is no way to
make it right Nana- people like us don’t
matter to the rich downtown Chamber people – they can do whatever they want and
no one will challenge them.” She tried
to take my hand but I just pulled away.
We walked past the ruins of the old theater which now felt like my
life.
The drive back to Nana’s was silent – I looked out the
window breathing hard because the heat of my rage was taking up every molecule
of oxygen inside my body. I went to my
room and started to tear down my Ghost Busters stuff. Dad was right – dreams were for losers. Nana walked in and stopped me from taking
down the last one. “Jack –stop – this is
a set-back – it sucks – yes – but true heroes recover and fight back.” I just looked at her and didn’t say
anything. I sat in my room in the dark
with the TV on until she told me it was dinner. We had a quiet dinner – I didn’t talk
because all I wanted to do was yell and scream.
I was not mad at Nana – I was just pissed as hell at life. When it was time for bed, I sat there with
my eyes open hoping I could get out of this horse shit town and make something
of myself. I wasn’t sure what or where but it was sure as hell not going to be
here. Finally, around 4:00 a.m. – my
anger subsided enough to let me sleep.
At Bruce’s house there was celebration – his dad patting
him on the back and having drinks with the board of the Chamber – it was a new
day for downtown – a big chain store was coming and his son was the town
hero. But Greg was noticeably
withdrawn. Bruce pulled him aside. “Dude, what the hell is wrong with you? We had an awesome day – I was on the news.” “It was a lie, Bruce. You stole your spotlight. Shit – you have everything – could you not have
let Jack have his one moment?” Greg asked – his voice dripping with
disgust. “Look – sometimes you have to
make your own luck – “ “You mean steal your own luck – “ Greg retorted. “Look – if you don’t like it - leave –I don’t need you. Fuck you man!” “Right back at you dick-breath,” Greg said as
he pushed open the screen door and left out the back way.
That night around 4:00 a.m. Bruce started to have a very
vivid dream. He was in the theater and
the walls started to close in like he was there during the demolition. Everywhere he tried to escape – he was met
with explosions. It felt like he was in
a mine – with no way out. Just then the face of the Coal Miner appeared – with
glowing red eyes. His face looked normal
otherwise but then another explosion took place and half his face was gone –
fragments of skull and brain covered Bruce who tried to scream but couldn’t. The mutilated face of the Coal Miner got
closer as the sound of a heartbeat got louder.
“I know what you did to Jack – you took what was not yours. Tell the truth or I swear I will appear to
you every night until you make amends.”
Bruce woke with a start sweating profusely. “It was just a nightmare – okay- it don’t
happen.” Suddenly there was a howl of
pain – Bruce looked down and noticed that he was covered in sweat but it was
sticky like blood. A bright flash of
light and the Coal Miner was right in front of him – still missing most of his
face “Your nightmare is still happening–“ An echo of laughter surrounded the
scared teen as his sports trophies started to fly off the shelf. He screamed like a little girl as Mr. Dane
ran into his son’s room just as the last trophy hit the floor in its own. “Jesus H. Christ – what is going on?” Bruce’s dad turned on the lights and saw the
shelf with the trophies on a downward slide which explained all the items on
the floor. “What the hell?” Bruce was
shaking. “Dad, we have to tell the truth
– we have to tell people that Jack took the video or very bad things will
happen –“ “And look like a laughing
stock – no son – we need to stay on course – “ his father shot back. Just then a chill hit the room. A trophy flew up from the floor – floated for
about 10 seconds – then hit the window and shattered the glass. Bruce and his father ran like hell out of
the room and down the stairs. “Okay,
we’ll make a correction tomorrow – we’ll fix this - holy shit – holy
shit!” They both decided to sleep in the
den that night with the lights and TV on.
At 8:00 a.m. while Nana was making breakfast before
church, she got a call from Ben Dane.
“Hey there Miss Claire – I feel really bad for the confusion
yesterday. It seems like Jack played a
bigger part in getting that video than we gave him credit for – so we’ll let
the news station people know and I’ll see if we can get his video back. Well okay, thanks and we’ll see you later at
services.” Nana put down the phone a
little dumbfounded but believing her prayers were answered. “Jack – wake up. I just talked to Bruce’s dad, they are going
to credit you with the video and let the news station know. “Wait, what –“ I mumbled still half
asleep. “They are going to credit you
and give the video back Jack – we won! I
guess the powers that be made them think better of it. They’re even coming to church today- I
haven’t seen the Danes at a service in years.
Now get dressed!” Nana practically
skipped out of my room. I shot out of
bed, got dressed and for the first time in my life – could not wait to go to
church.
We were among the first ones there greeting the
congregants as they entered with a big smile.
Finally, Bruce and his dad showed up – looking a little exhausted and
shaken up. “Hello Bruce – “ I said
waiting for an apology. “Okay – here’s
the thing – we told the news station that I was there that night and that you
went in to videotape as part of my idea. I
stayed outside to keep guard – but you were the one who physically caught the
ghost. I just told you where to
look,” Bruce looked at me hoping that
would be sufficient. It was mostly true
and at least I’d get credit for the video which is really all I wanted. “Okay – cool –thanks,” I said with my hand out stretched ready to
shake like a gentleman. Bruce looked at
his dad who nodded that he had better shake on it.
On the mid-day news – the anchors made a quick correction
about the video -that I had shot it then quickly moved on – it was a small moral
victory. I was good with that. Nana took me back to my house since school was
the next day. She made dinner for my dad
and me and told him what had happened that weekend. He was moderately impressed which for him was
saying a lot. After she left – my dad actually congratulated
me. “Jack – you stood up for yourself
against those snotty rich people. Good
deal.” He shook my hand which was my
second of the day and was as close to a hug as my dad would ever get.
I got into bed feeling like maybe being a ghost hunter
was not out of reach. It was also the first time in two days I was not seething
mad as I tried to go to sleep.
In the corner of the room, Angela stood watching over her
son. The Coal Miner appeared and looked
on. “Thank you for helping him – I
really appreciate it,” she said quietly.
“I never really cared for that whole Dane family when I was alive, it’s
good to scare the shit out of them now that I’m dead.” Angela laughed and almost woke up her
son. “Why don’t you show yourself to
him? You’re the one he’s looking for –
not me.” “I can’t yet, I just can’t-“
her voice trailed off as she started to cry.
“Hey there – um –“ the Coal Miner struggled awkwardly for words trying
to change the subject. “Nice job with the trophy through the window. How did
you learn to throw like that?” “My
father taught me as a kid. When I’m mad
I can still do it even as a ghost.” The
Coal Miner winced when she said father.
“I have to go –“ he said quickly and faded out. Angela stayed and watched her son sleep. “I love you Jack and I always will,” she
smiled through yet another tear and faded out.
For more on Ghost Wanderers - go to Ghostwanderers.com
For more on Ghost Wanderers - go to Ghostwanderers.com
No comments:
Post a Comment