Ghosts in the Ruins

My mother had been dead a few months that spring in 1984 when my Nana suggested we go on a picnic at her graveside.  My father didn’t want to join us – he was always teetering between genuine grief and incredible anger since my mother had died in a car accident after she had left him for another man.   I didn’t hate her for that.  I got it – I knew why she left I just wish she had been able to get me.  Even though my dad had cut down on his drinking he still was just distant stranger most of the time.  We had a few bright spots here and there – the brightest oddly enough on the night of my mother’s funeral when he shared some crazy stories about when they first met.   We laughed so damn hard that night until we cried and make no mistake – we both fucking cried like babies.  I knew in that second what it was like to be close to my dad and he realized it too – and it scared the shit out of him.  So rather than yelling at each other – we were more like roommates – a middle aged man and his 14 year old roomie- both civil but both not being able to say much that would reveal anything resembling feelings.

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. 

Thursday morning at school, I heard some boys next to my locker talking about a haunted theatre that was near the school.   “Hell – yeah it’s haunted – I saw that old Coal Miner myself!” said  Bruce Dane, one of the biggest kids in school and one you didn’t want to mess with – even if his first name was Bruce.  “They say he’ll haunt you forever unless you can get someone else to see him and then they’ll be haunted,” responded Greg d’Angelo another one of Bruce’s cronies. “Let’s go back tonight if I can sneak out.”  Normally, I would just blow off what they’re saying because most of the time it’s bragging bullshit, but this time they got my attention which they unfortunately noticed.   “What are you looking at dick breath?” asked Bruce who just then noticed my Ghost Busters t-shirt. 

“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. 

I kept the flashlight on the stage and it was still – nothing was happening but I knew something was there. I was frustrated and just let loose.  “Look Mother Fucker – I know you’re here – show yourself you piece of chicken shit- “ Just then a spotlight turned on – it was coming from the non-existent light booth.  A disembodied head suddenly appeared – it had smudges on the face and he looked pretty pissed.  The hand with the flash light started to shake uncontrollably.   I had the presence of mind to keep the camera pointed at the stage when the ghost started to talk. 

“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

scream and run away, but all I could see was his head following me and laughing a demonic laugh.   20 minutes or no 20 minutes – I was getting the fuck out of there.  I ran to what I thought was the front door but the main isle seemed to get longer and longer with no end in sight.  I kept running and at every corner I saw the Coal Miner looking at me – the last time was him with half his head caved in and blood all over his face.   I finally reached the front door and was yelling for Greg and Bruce to let me out.  I was pounding and yelling but all I could hear was the Coal Miner laughing.  My eyes filled with tears because at that point, I was pretty sure I was about to die – my heart was ready to beat right out of my chest.  The door opened suddenly and there was Nana with her arms open grabbing me and pulling me out of the doorway.   She slammed the door shut and held me until I calmed down.   

“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. 

We arrived back at Nana’s who still had the video set up from the night before.  She called Bruce and Greg’s parents to let them know where they were.  She also brought in cookies and lemonade while I fiddled with the controls.  I clicked the TV and the playback for the betacam - there was the grainy dark video.  “What a rip- it doesn’t look like you got anything – “ Bruce said somehow feeling redeemed.  “Wait,” I said confidently.  Just then the light hit the stage and you could see a figure moving – mostly the size of a head.  “That’s just your shadow,” said Bruce dismissively.  “Nope, the angle I’m at shooting it couldn’t be.  Besides, Nana checked and the electricity has been off in that building for a year – so the light had to have been ghost-made – remember it was 11 at night when I went in there.”  “This is incredible – I mean this looks like a ghost – its freaky cool!” said Greg admirably as he took another snickerdoodle.   I looked and Nana and she looked at me.  I felt like I was on my way as a ghost hunter.  “Okay, I guess maybe it could be a ghost – maybe.  I guess we could get it analyzed –“ said Bruce, “My dad knows some people at the news station – maybe they could look at it.”   “Sure – when can we go?” I asked excitedly.  Just then Greg’s mom pulled up.  “Greg, your Mom is here,” Nana yelled from the kitchen.  He got up to go and grabbed a few cookies on the way out.  “Hey, don’t tell anyone about this okay?” Bruce whispered. “Why?  This is amazing – Jack got some cool stuff – “ Greg responded while stuffing another cookie in his mouth.   “Just don’t –“ Bruce said rather threateningly.  He knew that Bruce meant business and the conversation ended there.  He thanked Nana for the cookies and left as we saw his car leave the driveway.  Just then, Bruce’s dad Ben Dane pulled in and walked up the sidewalk to say hello.   Bruce brushed past us and to his dad.  “Hey dad, gotta go.”  “But I just got here and I wanted to thank Miss Claire for looking after you – especially with your mother out of town -  “ “Dad, we need to go,” Bruce said more forcefully and his father complied.  “Say thank you to Jack for inviting you over – “ “Hey thanks – see you at school.” And with that Bruce and his dad departed. 

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

cameras were focused on the demolition.  The Chamber reps directed  everyone’s attention towards the demolition and away from me. There was a countdown over the PA system and then a loud bang as the theater walls and roof came tumbling down.  Nana ran up just as the theater was becoming nothing but tons of rubble.   It was all gone.  There would be no chance to shoot a second video.   Greg walked up to me while all the commotion was happening and out of the sight line of Bruce who was taking video of the demolition to prove he had a camera.  “Hey sorry man, but he told me if I didn’t go along with it – he’d make my life hell.  He was going to tell everyone I’m a fag – I’m not but I couldn’t have that – you know.  Life in junior high is tough enough without that bullshit piled on.  By the way, they just bought that camera today.”   I was so pissed off – so angry that what was happening was wrong and yet a guy like me couldn’t do much about it against a family like the Danes.  Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw my mom standing by the big oak tree near the park off the town green.  “It’s Mom!” I yelled and took off. “Jack – no don’t go over there! It’s not Angela!” Nana pleaded.   I ran as fast as I could “Hey Mom – I knew it was –“ I stopped short as it was a young mother with her toddler playing near the tree – real people living and having fun – not ghosts.

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 

The Dead of Winter - 1984

It was the dead of winter in Dawsonville, Georgia when young Jack Bronson found out that his mother had left.  He had just come home off his seventh grade school bus when he spied his Nana’s blue Buick in the driveway.   His father’s red Ford pick-up truck was also home which was strange because his dad always worked late on Fridays.   He walked through the door of the house which had a living room with overstuffed torn leather couches that were covered in his mother’s crocheted throws. 

“Where’s mom?” he asked innocently enough as he put down his books and rummaged through the ice box for last night’s fried chicken.  He was tall for his age, but rather skinny.  He could easily put away a whole tray of chicken or an entire large pizza without thinking about it.  “We need to talk,” said Nana with a concerned tone in her voice.  Even at 14, Jack knew that no good conversation ever started out with those four words.   He looked at his father and grandmother who were somber and sitting at their dinette which was really a card table with four folding chairs.  “Your mother has left,” said Tom Bronson abruptly as he ran his hand through his unkempt stock of dirty blond hair.  Nana shot her son a dirty look and tried to cushion the blow.  “Jack, it seems she needed to take some time and figure things out,” said Nana gently.   “Jesus Christ mother, don’t sugar coat it for the boy - she’s gone.  She left me and her son plain and simple.”  Jack’s father walked past Jack and got another Miller from the ice box. 

“Wait, what do you mean she’s gone?”  Jack sat down at the table looking into Nana’s tired brown eyes hoping to get more answers.  “She’s been screwing Teddy Jenson for months and ran away with him – goddamn whore!”  fumed his father.  “Watch your language son – the boy needs –“  Nana started.  “The boy needs to know that his mother was a lying slut – making a fool of me –of us – shit- we’re the laughing stock of the town.”  Tom was getting drunker, angrier and his blue eyes were more glazed and bloodshot.   Nana stood up and looked at her son.  “I know you are upset, but you have your son to think about and you are in no condition to discuss this with him.   How about I take him for the weekend?  You get your bearings and we’ll discuss things tomorrow.”   Nana walked to Jack’s room to get his overnight bag.   Father and son sat there awkwardly regarding each other. 

“But Mom said she’d take me to see Ghostbuster’s this weekend,” Jack said,

his eyes filling with tears.   Jack’s mother Angela shared his fascination with ghosts, the paranormal, and everything that he considered cool.  His father was distant and dismissive – he was a few years older than Angela who he had married out of high school and their age difference took its toll on their marriage as did the Tom’s drinking and his abusive outbursts.   Jack’s mother was the one buffer that kept his father from constantly taking a belt to him because he felt his son’s mind was full of crazy dreams that would never come true.   “Boy, listen to me straight – that woman is more than likely out of our lives forever and the sooner you get used to it the better –“ Tom guzzled down another beer and threw it into the garbage can on top of the five he had already finished off. 

Nana returned to the kitchen with Jack’s small overnight bag and his stuffed 101 Dalmation puppy which his mother had given him when he was two – he still slept with it every night.  “Oh, hell no – he’s not walking out of this house with that stuffed dog so he can sleep with it like some goddamn faggot – you’ve got to stop coddling him Mother!”  He grabbed the dog and walked to the outside garbage bin and threw the stuffed puppy in there.   Young Jack was reeling – he whispered “Pup-Pup!” and looked at Nana who gave him a reassuring nod.   “We’re going now.  If you need to tie one on tonight – I understand but you better be sober when we return on Sunday afternoon,” Tom looked away and didn’t even say good-bye to his son.  

Nana and young Jack walked slowly out to the car but as they passed the trash bin, Nana picked up Pup-Pup and put him discreetly in her purse.  The drive to her house was silent.  She didn’t want to push Jack to say much of anything but still wanted him to tell her how he felt.  Young Jack on the other hand felt this was a huge mistake.  His father had driven her away – his beautiful mother would never betray the family.  He was her little man – the person she would pour her heart out to.  He knew his parents were having issues but not enough to just abandon him completely.  Yes, he knew his father was an asshole.   But she was smart, funny, pretty and she told her son every day how much she loved him.  This was just one big cluster fuck – he was sure of it.  If he could just talk to her – he could make things right or maybe she’d take him with her – mothers always got custody and then he’d never have to see his father again. 

Nana pulled into the driveway of her one story ranch.  They walked into her small kitchen which smelled of coffee and biscuits instead of stale beer.  Nana put Jack’s bag in the guest room where he would spend the night from time to time.  He sat on the bed and stared blankly at the wall which had a poster of Bill Murray as Dr. Peter Venkman in Ghostbusters.  Nana had gotten it for him

for Christmas but his father insisted the poster stay at her house.  Jack wanted to be a real life Ghost Buster but his father dismissed it as a load of crap.  His mother never ruled it out and they would check out books on ghosts from the library since they could not afford to buy them.  He reached for Pup-Pup and realized that his stuffed animal like his childhood was gone.  He fell back on the bed and started to cry.  His father was not around and he didn’t have to be brave for his mother when his dad would strike out.  He was at Nana’s – a safe zone and she would let him cry even if he was a boy and boys should never cry.   He closed his eyes and felt the warm salty water fall down his cheeks.  He grasped the pillow and buried his head in it.   Nana asked him if he needed anything and he mumbled “No!”   His quiet sobs exhausted him and he ended up napping for two hours.  When he woke up – Pup-Pup was sitting next to him – newly washed and smelling like fabric softener.   Jack grabbed the little dog and hugged him – it didn’t matter that his father would call him a faggot for doing so – it was a gift from his mother and one of the last things he now had of her. 

Nana was standing at the door and watching.  “Nana, how did you-?” he asked still holding Pup-Pup. “I got him out of the garbage and washed him which he badly needed– you can keep him here where he’ll be safe,” she said as she sat on the bed next to Jack.   “I’m so sorry about today-your mother leaving and your father – he means well but he’s just so hard headed and hurt from the war–“ Nana found herself in the difficult position of once again making excuses for her son to her grandson.  “Do you want to see a movie tonight?” she asked trying to quickly change the subject. “Ghostbusters, The Karate Kid and Indiana Jones are playing at the cheap movie theater down the street – they have hot dogs and buckets of buttered popcorn for 50 cents – my treat.” Jack smiled and hugged his grandmother – no matter how bad things got – Nana had his back. 

Angela Bronson sat next to Ted Jenson as they drove out of Georgia and into

Alabama.  The excitement of finally being with her lover was tempered with leaving her son with her abusive husband.  She brushed her long blond hair from her face and looked out the window as they traveled on  I-20 on the way to Birmingham – nothing but road and trees and her own thoughts as Ted fumbled with the radio.  Ray Parker Jr.’s Ghostbusters theme came on the radio – Ted began to chuckle – Angela started to cry.  She and Jack were supposed to see the movie that night for the 10^th time at the cheap movie theater but she saw her chance to escape and took it.  “Please change the dial,” she said choking back tears.   Ted fumbled again and Stevie Wonder’s I Just Called to Say I Love You blared from the stereo.   Ted started to sing the lyrics badly trying to cheer her up. 

Angela smiled – not because Ted’s singing was actually making her feel better but it gave her an idea.  She asked if they could stop at the next rest stop so that she could call her son and tell him that she loved him and they would sort all this out.  She knew her husband wouldn’t let her talk to him but maybe if she could get to her mother-in-law she might have a chance – she had an answering machine.  If she couldn’t talk to Jack directly, she could at least leave him a message with her and pray that he got it. 

The cold night air bit harshly as Angela and Ted got out of the car.   He offered to get her a coffee as she fumbled for change to call her son who was probably confused and angry.  She didn’t want her son to think that was his fault.   She had a plan – she was going to get him in a few months after they had settled in Birmingham and they could start a whole new life together.  Ted would make a great step-dad and she was still young enough to have more children.  But right now, she needed to talk to her boy, her little Jack – the one person on the planet who completely understood her. 

She dialed her mother-in-law’s number slowly wondering if he was there and if Claire would let her talk to him. They had never really gotten along and now that she had left her son chances were she would not be all that willing to pass a message on.  But mother to mother, she had to understand how much Jack needed to hear from her right now.   The phone rang four times before the answering machine picked up.  Angela knew her mother-in-law liked to screen her calls so she made her plea as simply as possible.  “Jack, this is Mom.  I’m so sorry about today.  I know how confused you must be – you might even hate me which I would understand.   But I love you so much.   I tried to stay.  I really did but I couldn’t but that does not mean I don’t love you.  I’m trying to make a new life and when it’s secure, I’ll come and get you because you are my little man.  I love you more than anything.  Always remember that – Jack.  I love you and we’ll be back together soon.”  Angela hung up the phone feeling that as much as she told Jack that she loved him – it would never be enough.   Ted handed her a Styrofoam cup of black coffee and a Snickers.   Angela smiled because he remembered her favorite candy bar - something her husband would never had done. 

Nana and young Jack returned from the movies – a double feature of Ghostbusters and The Karate Kid - full of popcorn and corn dogs.  “Let’s get you to bed Honey,” said Nana who was actually more tired than her grandson.   Jack smiled, kissed his grandmother and went into the guest room.  He sat on the bed and the silence in the room only highlighted that his mother was not around.  He picked up Pup-Pup and hugged him hoping to pick up the scent of his mother but instead got nothing more than a whiff of Tide and Downy.   Jack got in his pajamas, curled up with his stuffed animal and prayed things would get better.

Angela fell asleep in the loving arms of her soon to be husband Ted.   It had been ages since she’d been able to sleep through the night – her current husband always kept her on edge because she was never sure if he would suddenly turn on her.  Her slumber was riddled with guilt about leaving her son behind.  She wished she had been able to go to school to pick him up but she feared a call to her husband would tip him off and scrap the entire plan.  It had not always been that way – Tom was once a loving man when they first met when she was a senior in high school stopping by Walgreens where she worked to pick up a pack of Marlboros.  He was five years older and out of college - handsome and muscular - but he had a sensitive side.   He’d write her poems and leave them on the counter in an envelope.  They got married when she graduated and their life was practically perfect until he was called to serve in Vietnam when Jack was two.  Angela begged him to move the family to Canada to avoid the draft but he insisted that it was his duty as an American and he would fight with honor like his father did in World War II.  

But Vietnam was not an honorable war – it was where young men sacrificed their youth, idealism and mental health. When they came back to the states, they were treated like criminals.  To this day, Angela didn’t understand what the war was about – but sadly it had killed the man she knew and left an angry bitter person whose temper could inflict verbal or physical pain without warning.   She often begged him to go to the VA hospital and get some help but his pride got in the way as it had always had.  

Jack stirred out of his sleep the next morning to hear the faint sound of his mother telling him that she loved him.   “It was all just a dream – I knew it!” he thought happily and jumped out of bed.  He ran to her voice to find Nana’s disapproving face playing the message back and not realizing it had awoken Jack.  “Where’s Mom?” Jack asked still not realizing it was a message and not the real thing.  

Nana tried to brace herself.  Her fury at Angela for betraying her son was almost overwhelming but she knew Tom had problems ever since he had come home from Vietnam just as her husband had from Germany.  The difference was that WWII veterans were treated as heroes, liberators.  Vietnam vets were considered damaged goods by the general public and worse criminals and baby killers by the war protesters.  Her husband had more support in the 1940’s but her son had nothing – people were afraid to hire Vietnam vets around these parts because of all the bad press. He had to resort to odd jobs – this from a man who could have had brilliant career as an attorney, a writer – anything he put his mind to.  But the war had damaged his soul – left it with a black stain on his psyche that made it seem like any dream was impossible.

“Nana, that was Mom, can I hear the whole message?  Please!” pleaded Jack.  For a nano second – Nana considered erasing the message – erasing this irresponsible woman from their life.  But she didn’t – the only good thing that woman had done was bring Jack into the world and she would honor Jack even if she wanted to throttle Angela.  Nana said nothing and replayed the message.   Jack listened and his tears spoke volumes.   His mother’s words “I love you more than anything.  Always remember that – Jack.  I love you and we’ll be back together soon,” meant that there was still a chance to be together.  Natively he thought Nana would come with him.  “Let’s get some breakfast,” said Nana quietly lost in her own thoughts and wondering if she should play the tape for Tom. 

Angela awoke to find Ted making coffee in their little hotel room – their bags packed and ready to continue on.  He handed her a cup and in the light of day her decision seemed so right and so wrong at the same time.  Jack was not there and a part of her heart was missing.   “We have to go back and get Jack,” she announced out loud with a volume that surprised both of them.  “Tom is going to fight us tooth and nail on that one hon-“ replied Ted knowing Tom Bronson as he did. The guy played for keeps and he was not about to let both his wife and son just walk out the door without a fight - that crazy asshole might just resort to making his point with a gun.  Angela would not be deterred.  “Maybe if I could meet with Claire – Jack’s Nana beforehand and explain – maybe we might have a chance,” she said hopefully.   “The roads in on are pretty icy. Why don’t we wait a few days? The weather report says both I-20 and 285 are bad.”   “I just can’t rest until I can talk to Jack directly – I’m afraid that Tom will turn him against me, please Ted – we need to go back.”  Ted knew there was no sense in arguing.  He had all-weather tires on his truck and knew how to drive in the ice but still it felt like it was a really bad idea.  Angela picked up the phone and called Nana and asked her bring Jack and meet her and Ted at the Silver Spoon around 6:00 p.m.  

Nana got off the phone with Angela and walked into the living room where Jack was watching his Saturday morning Creature Features on channel 51.  “Jack, for dinner, why don’t we go to the Silver Spoon – my treat.”  Jack smiled – the movies last night and going out to dinner tonight – things were looking up.  “What about Dad?” he asked cautiously.  “Your father can fend for himself tonight,” said Nana hoping that her son would not show up by chance.   She did not want to tell Jack his mother would be there just in case Angela lost her nerve and didn’t show up.

Ted and Angela finished their breakfast at the Waffle House and headed back to Dawsonville even though there were ice warnings.   The roads were bleak and sleek but Angela would not be deterred – she had to see her son and plead with Nana to turn him over.   The mood in the car was tense, not because Ted didn’t want Angela to see Jack again but because the road conditions were getting steadily worse.   There seemed to be a thick haze on the road as sleet fell softly.   Ted kept his speed under the limit but a big semi that had been tail gating for the last few miles decided to pass them only to jack knife in front of their car.  Ted hit the brakes and put out his arm to catch Angela just as they made impact.   The sound of screeching tires, breaking glass and crunching metal was the last thing that Angela heard before she lost consciousness. 

Angela woke up with a start – she was in her mother-in-law’s guest room cuddling next to her son who was crying into his Pup-Pup.  “Jack – it’s Mom – I’m here- it’s okay.”  Jack didn’t acknowledge her.  “Jack- it’s okay, Mommy is here.  I love you Jack – please say something!”   Nana appeared in the doorway – in a dress of all things.   She walked over to Jack and hugged him.    She handed him a suit and helped him get into it.  They didn’t talk – not a word.  Jack just looked at the Ghost Buster poster as his grandmother put his suit jacket on and clipped on a dark stripped tie.  “Hey, Jack – I know you’re mad at me – but please – say something, baby – I love you – please!”  

Angela went over to Claire.  “You turned him against me?!   What the hell Claire – I know you didn’t like me but to make him ignore me – Jesus Christ woman – look at me!”  Angela shouted.   Jack and Nana just walked by and didn’t say a word.

A bright light hit Angela’s eyes and she was standing at a graveside where she saw Jack, his Nana Claire and Tom standing with some friends and neighbors.  Tom was swaying – which some took for mourning but Angela knew it was because he was drunk.   She ran over to Jack – her 14 year old little man who looked so much older and sad.  She held him close and for a second she felt like she had gotten through but she realized his Nana was holding him up.   The minister finished his prayer and threw some dirt into the grave as Claire tossed in a red rose.  Jack threw in his mother’s favorite flower – a yellow and pink peace rose.   Tom just looked at the grave and threw in more dirt.   Angela tried to talk to her husband.  “Tom, I know you’re angry but don’t take it out on Jack.  I did love you once but our world changed and you lost hope.  I tried to make it work but –“  “Tom, are you coming?” asked Claire as she got into her Blue Buick with Jack in the back- tears streaming down his face.  “Hey boy, don’t you cry for your mama, SHE left us- she LEFT us- she left US!“ Tom slurred as he got in the car.  Angela tried to flag them down but they kept driving.  Tom threw out a piece of paper as they went by. 

Angela opened what looked like a program and realized the memorial service was for her.  “What – no- that’s impossible?!  I’m walking around – I’m alive!” Her mind reeled when she saw Ted – limping on crutches with a black eye.  “Oh my God, Ted what happened to you? Where are we?”   Ted looked and the grave, let go of his crutches and fell to his knees.  “I should have told you no – I should have made you wait until the roads were better – but I could never say no to you and now you’re gone – I loved you Angie and I always will.”   Angela closed her eyes and silently screamed.

When she opened them – she was back in her home as her husband, her mother-in-law and son returned from her funeral.   Tom went to the refrigerator and got a beer and offered Jack one.  “Here you go, boy- you might as well start now –“ Nana walked in and immediately snatched the beer out of Jack’s hands.  “C’mon Mother, the boy needs a little liquid courage – “ Tom chuckled and stumbled out into the living room.  “Goddam crochet – where’s my hunting knife? I’m going to cut these fucking blankets to shreds!”   “No Dad, it’s all I have left of her,” pleaded Jack. 

Nana walked up to her son and looked at him face to face.   “Hear me now Tom, you have a right to be upset, angry, betrayed – all that.  But I swear to God as my witness if you do not get yourself together for Jack’s sake – I will sue for total custody – do you read me?”  Tom knew from the look on his mother’s face that she meant business.   Angela felt a little sigh of relief.  She’d had a hard time getting along with her mother-in-law in life but she never doubted how much she loved Jack – it was the one thing they had in common.   Jack stood in the doorway of the kitchen trying to hold back tears because his father hated the weakness that crying showed.   “Jack, you’re going to stay with me for a while  - we need to give your father some time to adjust, we’ll get your things later.”   Tom sat motionless on the couch – staring straight ahead.  Jack hoped he’d put up a little bit of a fight showing that he wasn’t going to let go of his son that easily but he sat there glassy eyed and silent.   Jack gathered up a few of the crocheted blankets that were folded neatly in the corner.  He and Nana walked out the front door and let the screen door slam as they left. 

Angela looked at her husband and tried to remember what she had first seen in him.  It was the poet, the kindness, the way he protected her.  She wanted Jack to have those same qualities.   Tom got up and found his hunting knife – he started to pick up the multi-colored blanket on the couch – the one she

made when they were first married and started to cut it.  Angela’s anger started to rise.  She ran over to stop him and knocked over their wedding photo which was on the TV.   Tom looked up – “Damn right – “ he walked over and smashed the frame with his foot.   Angela anger turned to pure rage – she knocked over a trophy Tom had won for sharp shooting. “What the fuck?!”  Buoyed by her new abilities and feeling the need for payback, she started to knock more things over – knick nacks, books on the shelves, hunting magazines.  “Hey, Mother - Jack – knock this shit off – it’s not funny!”  Tom declared hoping his mother and son would show themselves as sick pranksters they were but there was nothing – it was clear he was all alone. 

Tom stumbled back into the kitchen.  He got a glass and heard the sound of running water.  He looked to see the knob on the faucet turning by itself.   He dropped his glass and then saw the upper cabinet open.  The plates started to fly out.  Angela was striking back in a way she never could have when she was alive.   Tom dove under the table and felt like he was under attack.  The porcelain was shattering around him and he was shaking under the table.  His wife could feel his terror and felt vindicated because he now knew what it was like to fear someone who could turn on you in an instant.  Then she heard something that surprised her.  A soul wrenching sob was coming from under the dinette from a man who shunned tears.   He was rocking back and forth – looking like an old man and a young child at the same time.   Angela sat next to him.  His eyes were wild and any second he could literally loose his mind.  Payback was one thing but permanent dementia was another.   She put her hand in his and he started to calm down.   “I miss my Angie girl –“  Tom had not called her that since before he left for Vietnam.   “I miss what we could have had- I miss the man I was – I’m so sorry babe –so I’m sorry!”  He closed his eyes and sobbed.

Angela put her arm around her husband out of instinct.  His rocking stopped – he opened his eyes and he looked around.  “Angie?”  he asked hopefully – praying this whole ordeal had been a drunken stupor and not reality.   But the fact that his wife was truly gone was setting in.  He got up from under the table and surveyed the broken dishes.  “How the hell?” he said still trying to comprehend it.   He started to get another beer but the refrigerator would not open – Angela was keeping it closed.   Tom started to feel sick and ran into the bathroom past the sink and the mirror.  As he was throwing up in the toilet- the hot water to the shower came on.   Tom reached for a towel and tried to turn the water off but it would not budge.  He went over to the sink and tried to wash his face as the steam of the shower filled the room.  He looked up at the mirror and saw the impossible – letters forming as if someone was writing on the mirror.   “T – Get Help! – A”.  Tom looked around to see if someone was in the room with him but he was alone.  He looked at the mirror again and another message appeared – “I’m watching – A”   Tom screamed and ran out of the bathroom.   He got to the bedroom and locked the door.   He tried to call his mother but she and Jack had not arrived.   He felt like he was losing his mind – worse than when he was in Vietnam.   Angela took pity on him and watched as he got into bed – shaking.   She lifted the covers and put them over his shivering body.  Tom smiled, “I know you’re here – I’m sorry!”  He closed his eyes and fell asleep.   Angie sat down next to her husband wishing that he had let her see him like this – the scared warrior child.   Tom dreamt of his wife, his young son and how things should have been.   At the end of the dream – Angie came to him and spoke directly.  “Tom, you need to be a father to Jack – not a drunk – not a raging manic but the man you were supposed to be.  Please find it in yourself to love him.  Do that – or what happened in the kitchen is nothing compared to what I’m willing to do to protect our son.”  

Tom woke up with a start.   It was dark outside and he was alone.  He’d always be alone if he didn’t change.  He called his mother and asked to speak to Jack.  “Hey son, I’m sorry about today – it’s just that – I’m just sorry.” Jack listened and didn’t say anything – he wasn’t even sure it was his dad talking.  “Uh, okay dad,” he said trying to wrap his head around this change in his father.  “I’d like to come over and have dinner with you and Nana if that’s okay.” 

“Sure – come over – Nana is making sausage and potatoes – but she calls it Bangers and Mash,” Jack said excitedly.  “That sounds like your grandmother,” he chuckled.  Tom put down the phone and changed his clothes.   He went into Angie’s side of the closet and found a photo album – photos of the two of them when they started dating, their make-shift wedding and honeymoon in Savannah.  There were the photos of Jack as an infant and toddler and many of Jack and Angela from when Tom was fighting but after he got back – the pictures stopped.   Those moments were too tense and barely documented. 

Tom arrived at his mother’s 30 minutes later.  Nana and Jack seemed a bit tentative at first.  But as they waited for dinner to be ready, Tom showed Jack the pictures in the album – and talked about the time he met Angela, when he found out she was pregnant with him, some of his old poems that she had kept.  Nana looked at her son and saw the man she used to know before the war did terrible things to him.  Jack saw a man who actually wanted to be his father.   That night, they told stories about Angela who was in the corner listening – crying but feeling at peace.  Her son was safe with people who loved him.   Then something truly miraculous  happened.  On the worst night of his young life - the night of his mother’s funeral – while he and his father were talking about all the crazy things his parents did when they were young – Jack and Tom Bronson had a good laugh together.