Dave's Christmas Story

I was taking my chemistry book out of my locker at Glades Jr. High and a Polaroid of me and my MeMa popped off my locker door and into my hands.  I looked at her smiling face – a face that I would not see again in this lifetime. I had just found that that morning from my mother that she had died in a car accident.  I begged to stay home from school but my mother insisted that all four of her kids go to school – me and my three older sisters.  My parents just needed some time to process the sudden loss without having to deal with us.  I mean I just saw her yesterday afternoon and now she was gone.  I tried to keep it together but the reality of her death really hit me for the first time that day and I just couldn’t keep it inside. 

I started to cry – I mean not just a few tears rolling down the cheeks that you could easily wipe away but sobbing and feeling a profound loss like I had never felt before.  Just then Bruce Dane, the school bully walked up, noticed I was crying and really started to harass me. “C’mon – you gonna cry – why you crying you little faggot?” he taunted with his dirty blond hair, a dark shirt and shorts.  He was a good six inches taller the rest of the kids and there was a rumor that he had been held back at least twice. Just then, Jack Bronson walked up and stuck up for me – which surprised me because we mostly passed in the hallway but never really talked.  Jack was muscular for his age and had light brown hair and was like the rest of us - much shorter than the hallway bully.  His blue eyes were fixed on Bruce and not flinching.  

“Hey – why don’t you just leave him alone Bruce,” challenged Jack.  Bruce turned around and towered over Jack.
“Well speaking of faggots – why don’t you get the hell out of here Jack or do you want to ask him out on a date?” 
“Knock it off Bruce- his MeMa died – he’s upset.” 
“MeMa – what is he – a baby?  I’ll decide when he’s had enough,” Bruce said.  At this point, a circle of kids had gathered around. 
“Bruce – I’m not going to ask you again – leave him alone,” Jack said with a steely determination in his eye. 
“Or what – what can you possibly do about it faggot?”  Bruce raised his fist ready to strike.  Jack just looked down and started to turn away.  Bruce chuckled and said “Figures – some people just don’t –“ He was stopped mid-sentence when Jack whirled back around and cold cocked him in the face. 

Bruce went back but kept his footing and tried to punch back – he missed

and Jack landed another punch in the stomach.  Bruce was bleeding from his nose and doubled over.  At this point, Mr. Albury, the Assistant Principal stepped in to stop the fight assuming that once again, Bruce had won. “C’mon Bruce you need to –“ he stopped mid-sentence and saw that Bruce was the one bleeding for a change.  Both Jack and I got into trouble for fighting even though Jack told them that Bruce had started it.  

"Look, I know that you are both good boys and you rarely get into trouble.  We have all that new fangled video and editing equipment that no one can make heads or tails of.  I'll give you three days detention to work on it and then write a report detailing how to use it." 
"Sounds good sir, thank you - I'd love to work with Dave on the project, but what about Bruce?  He started it!" 
"Don't worry about Bruce, I have him covered," Mr. Albury replied with a wink. 

That was the day that Jack became my best friend – a guy that would put himself on the line for a friend or hell just to make sure someone was not going to get bullied by taking on the biggest guy in school.  He had also lost his grandmother just a few months before so he understood what I was going through. 

He lived one block over from me in a run-down ranch style home and from that day forward he was a member of my family.  My parents loved that he helped me through the loss of Me-Ma and that he was the brother that I never had.  Being the youngest of four kids – I needed a kid my own age that I could identify with.  We’d go off on our own adventures in the park near my subdivision and Jack would usually have dinner at our house since his dad was rarely in any shape to cook.  Jack’s dad was a decorated Vietnam but the war and the cumulative losses of the women in his life took its toll.  He was often too drunk by 6:00 pm to have a decent dinner waiting.  My parents had no problem cooking a little extra and my sisters eventually got used to him being around.  

“Dave, Debbie is totally hot!” Jack would say in a fit of adolescent lust.  My response was an involuntary shudder.  I guess some guys would find her long platinum blond hair and slim figure appealing but then all my sisters liked that except since she was the oldest, she was the most um- shall we say developed.

“Oh c’mon – Jack she’s my sister.  Besides Debbie is five years older than you which makes it like 30 in teen girl years – you really have no chance.”  Jack would shrug and mutter – “Well maybe one day when I’m older,” Jack would reply.  My sisters would overhear our conversation and whisper  “As if!!” 

Jack and his dad had a complicated relationship which got worse after his Mom died in a car accident and his Nana died of a heart attack a year afterward.  I guess that’s why Jack strutted around like he was a tough guy – it was easier than letting most people see his real feelings but he’d share things with me because well - we both missed our grandmothers and he needed someone to confide in.

We also shared an interest in or should I say a passion for ghosts.  Our favorite movie was Ghostbusters.  We both saw it like ten times when it was first came to theaters and then we heard they were re-releasing it around the time that school started and went to see it another five times.  That was our escape – our favorite movie on the big screen, Bill Murray’s smirk, Dan Ackroyd’s child-like awe of ghosts, Harold Ramis’ proton packs and Ernie Hudson’s kick-ass attitude – for teenage boys like us it could not get any better.  

That year – Jack and I both decided that to make our passion our vocation – we wanted to be paranormal investigators.  Living in Georgia, there were tons of ghost stories and places to hunt them like Underground Atlanta and any number of old buildings that were decades or even a century old.  Sometimes they were as close as an old abandoned theatre where Jack had captured some images on VHS which actually made the news.  We studied the science of Ghostbusters and wanted to have Proton Packs of our very own.   Since Christmas was coming I made it our mission to either get the components to make them or to find a way to purchase them already made. 

Whenever any of our classmates asked what we wanted for Christmas – we’d tell them the Proton Packs from Ghostbusters and they would laugh and just call us weird.  Most of them were asking for GI Joes, Transformers or Atari TV video games like Asteroids or Pong.   In a weird way it made us feel better that not more people asked for what we wanted – so our chances of getting the packs from the jolly old elf shot up a bit. 

Now I know what you’re thinking – why does a someone like me in middle school still believe in Santa?  Well hell- a guy has to believe in something after the crappy year that Jack and I had.  I figured it’s best to ask Santa as a person who might or might not exist versus a supposed God that takes your grandmother without warning.  I mean I always told her I loved her but I thought she would be around at least until I had kids.  I was still having a hard time grabbling with why a good and kind God would hurt someone I loved – it was not f*cking fair! Sometimes you can find forgiveness – even for God - but I was not in a forgiving mood.  Of course I never told my mother who made sure we went to Mass religiously every Saturday night or Sunday.  Even Jack went, but mostly to check out the Catholic girls who he hoped were easy. 

It was the Friday after Thanksgiving and Jack was spending the night when we got a great idea.  There has been rumors that there was a ghost in the school – some coal miner that that had died near-by where a mine used to be back in the 1950’s.   Jack thought it might be the same ghost he caught on camera in the theatre and that it moved to the school when the theatre was torn down.  We waited for everyone in the house to go to sleep and walked over to the school.  Jack had the video camera – his dad let him have it after Nana died. 

“Dave – I get the feeling we’re going to see some activity tonight,” Jack said excitedly but with a hint of nervousness. 
“I hope so – but we can only be gone about an hour – my parents would kill me if they knew we were out on our own,” I replied.   We walked down the path to the field house by the P.E. offices.  Sometimes the door was kept open in that part of the building in case the coaches needed to grab equipment on the weekend and didn’t want to bother the facility staff.  People could do that in my town – leave doors open and no worry about having stuff stolen.  

“Okay, we look around the locker room and see if anything happens.  A few of the guys have seen stuff get moved without any real explanation,” Jack stated feeling pretty confident.  We moved down the side office and into the main locker room.  It was dark but we kept the lights off so we would not attract attention - ghosts like to move around in the dark but we had flashlights.  

“Geez – it always smells like mold and sweat around here –“  There was a small metal squeak and just then we saw a locker door open. 
“Jesus Jack, did you get that on camera?!”  I asked trying to keep my cool but realizing that I might have just peed a little. 
“I got it Dave but it’s really dark so maybe it won’t come out – hopefully we’ll see a little more.”  Jack replied – he was a little more seasoned than I was and not nearly as nervous. 
“It’s good to have someone on a stake-out with me – “ said Jack when two more lockers opened up.  Just then we heard some sounds – it was quiet at first and then got louder. 
“Oh God, Oh God, please –“Jack and I looked at each other – and we knew what each other was thinking – should we stay or get the hell out of there?  “Jack – I’m getting a little freaked –“ I started when there was a loud knock coming from the room next to us and more moaning. 
“Dude, we’ve got to check that out –“ Jack insisted and he ran around the corner.  Just then there was a loud scream and some yelling. 

“Get the f*ck out of here you little perv!” said a male voice that sounded like it was in high school.  I rounded the corner to see my big sister Debbie and her sometimes boyfriend Gus sitting on the couch in the coaches office and they had been making-out. 

“Oh my God – you little freaks - what are you doing here?!!”  screamed Debbie. 
“What are you doing here Debbie?  You’re supposed to be in bed,” I replied taknig the higher moral ground.  I was trying to move from being scared to totally creeped out seeing my sister with her blouse unbuttoned and her bra in Gus’ hands.  Luckily her sweater was layered over anything that could be a – ah – a something a brother should not see. 
“Why are you here Dave?” she shrieked grabbing her bra from Gus and buttoning her shirt. 
“We were looking for ghosts and got some footage but now we might have to debunk some of it,” Jack said matter-of-factly trying not to catch a glimpse but staring right at Debbie’s bust line. 
“Video – great that’s all we need,” said Gus who was the captain of the high school baseball team, muscular and way bigger than Jack and I.  
“Give me that tape and no-one gets hurt,” he said moving closer to Jack who was not backing down. 
“Look, I turned off the camera the minute I saw it was you and Debbie – we don’t have anything on tape with you and her but we do have lockers opening and closing by themselves.”  
“Give me that goddamned tape,” bellowed Gus.  He started to push Jack back – I jumped on top of him trying to get him off my friend but more to hit him for doing stuff to my sister. 
“Get off of him, both of you,” Debbie shouted. 

Just then we heard lockers opening and closing quickly.  Gus let go of Jack

and turned the corner – “Okay you little jerks – knock it-“ he stopped mid-sentence and started to back away.  Jack and I ran over to see and there were four or five lockers just opening and closing randomly. 
“You little a**holes – make it stop!” said Gus whose voice sounded scared. 
“We’re not doing that –“ I replied in a whisper. 
“Jack – get the camera,” Jack was taking video when Debbie walked up and saw the lockers opening up on their own and started to scream. 
“Oh my God –oh my God!!!”  Gus freaked out.  He ran past all three of us muttering – “This is crazy- you are on your own!”  The lockers stopped a few seconds later.  Jack went over the Debbie to comfort her while I looked to see if there was some way they managed to move without some ethereal help.  “Jack we might have some actual ghost footage!”  I said excitedly.  

“Oh no you don’t – you can’t show that with me and Gus – I mean – Mom and Dad would – you just can’t –“ Debbie begged.  
“I’m pretty sure we didn’t get you and if we did – we’ll edit it out.  Please Debbie – this is some good stuff!” I pleaded. 
“Look,” said Jack, “I can tell people we shot it earlier in the night and we cut out you and Gus then you don’t get in trouble but you can’t tell on us either, deal?”  Debbie gave in which was not like my sister.  Personally, I just wanted to forget the whole Gus thing even happened.   

As we started to walk out of the field house – I thought I saw MeMa smiling in the locker room.  I looked again and she was gone. 
“Nice work with the locker doors,” said Nana to MeMa. 
“Thanks – I’m getting the hang of it – besides –I was not going let my granddaughter make me a great-grandmother posthumously nine months from now!”  The grandmothers smiled and faded out. 

We walked quietly through the streets and I thought I heard Debbie crying on the way home but didn’t know what to say.  As we got the key from under the mat and unlocked the back door – Jack turned to her and said, “Hey, you can do better than Gus – there are a ton of guys who would have treated you better than he did tonight – he’s an a**hole.”   Debbie smiled, kissed Jack on the forehead and said “Thank you.”  I had to hand it to my friend – he scored some major points with her that night.

The next morning we looked at the footage while everyone was still asleep.  The images were grainy but you could see the lockers opening and closing as well as some audio. 
“If we can get into the media center and edit out the Debbie stuff – we have a pretty solid tape!”  We went downstairs got some Captain Crunch and watched Saturday Supercade.  In between cartoons of video arcade characters there were Christmas commercials with stuff that looked cool but not as cool as Proton packs.  My parents came downstairs and saw that we had already helped ourselves to cereal.  “Hey boys, do you want me to make you eggs?”  my mom asked. 

"Yes, ma’am!” we said in unison.   Debbie came down a few minutes later trying not to look at us.  My parents took it as awkward teenage girl angst and nothing more.  Jack and I settled back on the couch in front of the TV and vegged on more crappy Saturday morning cartoons – for two teenage boys who for once didn’t have any chores on a Saturday – this was the life.  After about an hour – we heard a leaf blower going.  
Jack looked at me – “Dude, that sounds like the one my dad has.”  We looked out the living room window and sure enough – there was Jack’s dad clearing off the leaves in the front lawn.  My dad walked out, shook his hand and offered him some coffee.  Jack and I looked at each other – in the time that we had been friends and Jack had been hanging out over here – his dad had not once come over to check on him. 

“I wonder what’s up,” Jack said quietly.   He was afraid that his father might have had a few beers and was spoiling for a fight.   Instead, he came inside, introduced himself to my mother and thanked them for allowing Jack to stay over.   What happened next was truly interesting.  Our two dads went outside – did lawn work and talked about their days in Vietnam.   Jack watched apprehensively – afraid that his dad might do or say something that would cause a problem but everything appeared to be fine.

 “Boys,” my mother called, “could you help set the table - Mr. Bronson is staying for lunch.  We can heat up some of the leftovers from Thanksgiving.”  I grabbed the plates from the cupboard and Jack got the silverware – but he seemed quiet. 

“Hey you okay?” I asked.  
“Sure – it’s just my dad – sometimes he’s not that predictable and I don’t want him to –“  He didn’t have to finish – I knew what he was getting at.  “Hey – don’t worry – my parents love having you over – they call you the brother I never had.  They get your situation – it’ll be fine,” I said trying to reassure my friend and hoping that adult politics would not ruin a great friendship.

My sisters came down for lunch but were quiet when they saw Jack’s dad.  They just didn’t know what to make of the situation and it felt awkward.   Tom Bronson sized up the situation and made a bold statement.  “
Wow Dave, you didn’t tell me you had super models for sisters – ladies – it’s good to meet you!”   Jack and I held our collective breaths – you never knew how teenage girls would react – it was like a land mine.  The wrong type of pressure could result in an explosion.   Aimee and Tiffany looked at Jack’s dad and tilted their heads like puppies – then started to smile.  
“You really think we look like supermodels?” they gushed.  
“Yes ladies, if I was not here in Georgia – I would swear you two could be on the runways in New York,”  Tom Bronson cheerfully replied.
  

They laughed and thanked him.   I saw were Jack got his charm with the ladies – although Jack’s take was not nearly as polished.  Debbie came down and still was having a hard time making eye contact but when she saw Jack’s dad and it gave her someone to look at rather than adverting her gaze from us.  

We all sat down and it felt like a second Thanksgiving – but with less people and my best friend and his dad at the table which made it better.   I was learning that was what was going to be the hardest about the holidays this year and for years to come - missing the people you loved who were no longer at the table.  Everyone sitting and having lunch had experienced that kind of loss this year but maybe creating some new traditions like this after Thanksgiving lunch could help ease the pain.

The lunch conversations veered in many directions and Tom Bronson was pretty talkative – the most I had ever seen him say in the six months that Jack and I had been friends.  Mr. Bronson talked about traveling in Europe in the early 1960’s with stories that Jack had never heard – about being a traveling poet before he started college.  My mom tried to look amused but was afraid he was giving the girls ideas about being a hippie until they asked if he stayed in nice hotels.  When he explained that a hostile was a place where you slept in a room with strangers and used the same bathroom  – it immediately killed their sense of wanderlust. 

When the subject of what we wanted for Christmas came up – Jack and I immediately piped up with our number one choice – a Ghostbusters Proton Pack with Neutrona Arm.  The conversation came to a screeching halt and everyone looked at us like we had lost our damn minds. 
“A Proton Nutra what?” my mother asked still trying to process what we said. 
“It’s a radiation pack for neutralizing ghosts –  you know so Dave and I can be ghost hunters!” Jack said excitedly.   

The room paused for a second and then my mother said the one thing that would pretty much destroy our hopes.
“Oh, no – that sounds really dangerous – you’ll shoot your eye out!”  My dad and Jack’s dad just looked at us and my sisters’ eyes rolled so far back I was afraid I’d never see their pupils again. 
“What nerds – I mean you can’t be seriously serious,” said Tiffany in an exasperated tone that only a teenage sister could invoke.  Jack and I just sat there – trying not to feel like fools but it seemed like our request was meeting with ridicule.  

My dad smiled and said – “I get it – when I was your age – I wanted a Giant Pan American Clipper – it was an airplane.”  
“Hey I remember those, mine was a Disney Space ship set!” added Mr. Bronson.  Suddenly our hopes brightened – the men of the table got where we were coming from.   My mother just sighed – “We’ll just have to see – I’m not even sure where you would buy something like that.”   

The “we’ll see” was not a definite no – so Jack and I still held out some hope.   The lunch finished and Jack and his dad started out the door to go home.   “Thank you for lunch and I’d really like to return the favor sometime – you all have been so great to Jack –“ 
“No, Jack is wonderful – we love having him – anytime you or he wants to come over –“ my mother added and I knew she genuinely meant it. 

Over the next few weeks – Jack and I campaigned for the Proton packs –finding articles in sci-fi magazines and placing them on strategic places for our parents to find.  We even had the same English teacher and one of our assignments was to explain what the perfect holiday gift would be.   Our papers gave different reasons for the same thing – a proton pack to take down any ghosts that might want to menace the living.  We would take it upon ourselves to be the guardians of the city – keeping evil out and putting the ghosts on notice that we meant business.  We both thought we gave some very well-reasoned arguments and a fantastic conclusion to our papers.  Our teacher felt differently. Mrs. Sampson gave us both Cs on our papers with her main comment that they sounded dangerous and that we might shoot our eyes out.  It stung – feeling like our dream was being crushed by adults who only wanted to know the here and now. 

I stood there at my locker – holding my paper and feeling decidedly trapped in my life, this town and by adults who didn’t understand me.  Then the sting of hot tears started to drown my eyeballs and I realized that I was crying again.  But this time they were quiet tears that I could wipe away before anyone saw – except one person did see- Bruce Dane.  
“Hey faggot- why are you crying did your boyfriend Jack break up with you?”  I didn’t answer – I knew he was an asshole and was not worth fighting. 
“Did you hear me – you little pansy?”  I needed to put an end to this for me and all the other kids he’d terrorized over the years. 
“Bruce –let’s settle this after-school at Mather’s Park.”  Bruce looked surprised that I was going to stand-up to him – and that I wanted to fight in a place that was neutral. 

“Okay, ass-wipe – let’s meet and don’t let Jack so your fighting for you!”  He walked away with his little minions in tow to his next class and I stood there at my locker wondering what my MeMa would tell me to do.  My eyes got misty as I headed to my math class. 

“Dave, Dude – you need to call this off – Bruce is out for blood and you’ve never really fought anyone like that before,” Jack cautioned,
“Let me take him on – I’ve got your back. Seriously – let me help you.”   

Even though I was not a fighter –Bruce needed to be taken down a few pegs.  “No, Jack – I have to do this my self – my dad, mom, sisters – even you all try to protect me but I’ve got to fight my own fights – and I’m not going down without putting in a few good punches.”  Jack understood and we walked quietly to the park. 

Word had gotten around school that we’d be fighting and there was a pretty big crowd –  I showed up with Jack and Bruce had his usual posse with him. 
“So you showed up faggot – I see you brought  your boyfriend with you – “ Jack started to lunge towards Bruce but I kept him back.
“This is my fight –“ I said sternly and he backed away into the crowd.  
“So – sh**head you gonna start crying again over your little MeMa – she’s dead and can’t help you – “ Bruce said mockingly.

Jesus - this guy was such an a**hole.  He was trying to make me cry but it just made me mad.  I looked down for a moment and without warning – he punched me in the face.  For a nano-second I was dizzy, started to fall back.  I realized that I was in over my head and I wanted to stop this.  I wondered what MeMa would tell me to do.  Then I heard her voice say – “Punch the sh** out of that little bastard!!”   

I literally felt like someone stopped me from falling and pushed me towards

him.  The rage that I’d kept inside over my grandmother’s death started to surge forward.  My vision literally dimmed with a red hue and I was out for blood.  I heard myself utter a primal yell and lunged for Bruce.  I punched him in the face and knocked him down.  He got back up and tried to punch me but my arm stopped it and my other fist got an upper cut to his chin.  He fell back against the fence and I moved in – punching him in the stomach, the face, the arms with a reckless abandon I had never known before – spewing profanity like a drunken sailor and fighting like one too.  It was like all the times I had to quell my anger at everyone because I was the good kid –the responsible kid – the nice kid - now it was rushing forward in a red hot river of rage.  I could hear my mother telling me that God wouldn’t want me to fight –  to turn the other cheek is what they taught in catechism.   Well screw that – God took my grandmother and I couldn’t hurt him but I could punch the sh*t out of the guy who was mocking me.  Bruce’s face was getting bloody.  I had made my point but I didn’t care.  Jack tried to pull me off but I was not going to leave until he felt the full force of my anger. 
“Dave - stop – he’s had enough – just stop!” Jack pleaded.   

I kept hitting until I felt a pair of familiar hands on my shoulders. 
“Son, for God’s sake – stop – that’s enough,” I heard my father say which jolted me out of this surreal place of intense emotion and physical power. 
“But he made fun of MeMa – how she died –“ and then I started to sob and fell into my father’s arms.  

Bruce pulled away from the fence doubled over in pain – his hands covering his bloody nose.  The rest of the crowd was silent.  Jack walked over to me – “Hey Dave – I get it.   I miss my Nana too – death f*cking sucks.”   

My dad looked at Jack – “Yes it does,” he said quietly.    One of the other boys in the crowd said – “I miss my grandma too.  Sometimes it makes me cry and I’m not ashamed to say it.”  The rest of the kids nodded in agreement.   Bruce wanted to say something to put us down but realized he was weak and outnumbered.  He limped away with just one of his minions trailing after him – the rest stayed with us in quiet solidarity.    

My dad held onto me as the crowd started to thin – each with their own thoughts to process.   We walked to car without saying a word.  I saw how I looked in the rear view mirror.  Bruce had gotten one good punch off and had bloodied my mouth.  I had a very fat lip.  “What are we going to tell Mom?” I asked.  “I’m not sure – maybe she won’t notice.”  Yeah, right – she’d notice.  I’m her baby boy after all and she is always combing my hair in place and straightening my clothes – she might just pick-up on a bloody, swollen mouth. 

As the group dispersed, Nana and MeMa stood in the field watching the trio go to the car. 
“Nice upper cut,” said Nana.  
“Thanks, but I just got him back on his feet – the rest was all Dave.   Now maybe that little asshole will leave our grandsons alone,” said MeMa defiantly.  
“Yes, but doesn’t it bother you that Dave is so mad at God?” Nana asked.   MeMa paused for a second – “Yes, I’ve got to find a way to give him his faith back,”  she said as they both faded out. 

We pulled into the driveway and my mother came up to the car as we got out.  When she saw my face – she gasped.  “What happened?”  I started to say something but my father cut me off.  
“He got into a little scrape with a kid in the park – but it’s fine – I happened to be going by and picked him up – it’s no big deal.”  My mother seemed reassured until Aimee ran up.  “
"Oh my God – Dave beat up Bruce Dane!   I mean it’s not like that jerk didn’t have it coming to him.  I just didn’t think that Dave would be the one to hand his ass to him – my money was on Jack!”  

My mother looked at the men in the driveway sternly but then realized that I could take care of myself.   She started to smile and hugged me. “As long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters.  Here let me get you some ice for your mouth,” she said as she straightened my shirt and smoothed down my hair.  That night, Jack’s dad came over for dinner and we regaled everyone on the fight.  Later, our dads disappeared in the backyard workshop for guy talk which would undoubtedly include a discourse on how tough their sons were.  I’d never felt like one before but that night I was a genuine badass.  

The week of Christmas at school was a strange combination of finals and parties.  Jack and I tried to cruise through but there were last minute papers to write, cramming for geometry, English and Spanish.  In between there were holiday celebrations and cupcakes to be had between finals.  A few girls even baked me cookies and brownies because I was so “brave.”    Bruce kept his distance so my locker time was pretty stress free.  On the last day of school before winter break, my family decided to have dinner at the mall and invited Jack.   My parents told us to walk around while they did some shopping.  We saw the line for the Mall Santa which was full of kids under the age of six holding their stuffed animals and Barbies.  Two guys like us would look weird there even if we thought it would help our chances of getting Proton packs.  

We happened to pass by a storage room in the back of Macy’s and saw Santa (who actually looked like someone in their 30’s with a beard – go figure) taking a cigarette break.   Jack and I saw our chance and went up to him.  
“Hey there – Santa – can we have a word?”  Jack asked.  The Almost Santa looked a little apprehensive – we were two teenage boys wanting to talk to him after all. 
“Yeah, sure –“ he said looking around for a sharp stick just in case he needed it.  “Look, we know how this goes – you work for Santa but you’re not the real Santa – your Almost Santa and that’s fine.  We just need one thing for Christmas,” I started. 
“Okay, look boys - I can’t bring you Playboy bunnies – they just don’t fit down the chimney,” Almost Santa started to chuckle at his joke and then stopped when he saw our faces. 
“Girls would be cool but we need something that will actually help us later in life – “ Jack said.   He looked confused – what could we want if it wasn’t girls.  “We need you to ask Santa to bring us two Ghostbusters Proton Packs with Neutrona Arms so we can hunt ghosts.”  Almost Santa looked at us waiting for the punch line. 
“Okay, you’re serious – like the packs in the movie?”  he asked and we nodded. 
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea guys – you’ll shoot your eyes out.  Oh and don’t cross the beams.”  He chuckled again, put out his cigarette and walked away.  

Jack and I looked at each other.  “Okay, Almost Santa is a real dickhead,” I said. 
“Yeah, but if we could get Playboy bunnies – that would be awesome!” Jack replied – his teenage mind now filled with lusty thoughts of busty vixens. 
“Let’s find my parents and just go home,” I added – feeling dejected and like our whole plan was going down the tubes.  Right now I didn’t have faith in God, or Santa.   Except for beating up Bruce – this year had really sucked. 

On Christmas Eve, my parents invited Jack and his dad to Mass and dinner afterwards.  Christmas Eve was usually fun, but this year –it felt hollow and empty without MeMa.  She would make cookies with us on Christmas Eve during the day, sing carols badly and tell us about the holidays when she was little.  We tried to use her recipes and the cookies looked the same but they were not the same – nothing was the same.   

I went to Mass with my best friend and listened to the choir sing “Oh Holy

Night,” which was my grandmother’s favorite Christmas carol.  Usually I felt a sense of peace when I heard it – now I just felt empty.  The whole ritual of church seemed to be a farce.  Where was God when you needed him?  Where was he when my grandmother needed saving?  I was beginning to feel like I had been played this whole time by a religion that sold me a God that didn’t exist.  It made me mad – I bowed my head not in reverence but as a way to block out all the so-called holiness that was around me.  My mother sensed something was wrong but continued with the “Our Father” which everyone else around me was reciting by route.   I could not say anything right now but my New Year’s Resolution was to stop coming to church – it just felt like a waste of time. 

After Mass, we went back to our house.  My mother had been cooking chicken and pork in her crock pots and the smell in the house was amazing.  Tom Bronson helped make the salad and crescent rolls.  My mother appreciated the help – my dad was not much for the kitchen.  Finally, dinner was ready and we sat down.   We bowed our heads and my mother said grace.  Mr. Bronson asked to add to it.  

“Lord, we thank you for bringing us together – all of us on our separate journeys and for those whose journeys with us have ended – we remember and honor their memories.  Sometimes the road is hard and our hearts can be broken but it’s the renewal of life and friendships that give us hope.  We lost two very great ladies this year and we raise our glasses in a toast to their memories.   We love you and will never forget you.”   I raised my head to see how everyone else was reacting.  There were tears and a sense of relief that our sadness was being acknowledged even on a night when all was supposed to be right with the world.  My mother smiled and squeezed my father’s hand – it seemed natural for the Bronsons to be part of our family – their loss and ours had brought us together.

After dinner, our dads went out to the backyard workshop to shoot the breeze and have a few beers.  It was getting late and my mother invited Jack and his dad to stay the night.  Jack would stay in my room and his dad would stay in the guest room – which just made Christmas exponentially better.   We got out some books on ghosts and talked until about midnight when my mom made us turn out the lights. 

The next morning – the living room was filled with presents and Christmas did not start until 10:00 am – a time that worked well for my parents.  There were times when having a house full of teens who liked to sleep late worked in their favor.  My sisters ended up putting on a little make-up since we had guests and came down stairs in jeans and t-shirts rather than pajamas.  Mr. Bronson was already up and making breakfast when my parents came down.  

“Good morning Carolyn, I hope you don’t mind – I started breakfast and made some coffee.  The kids have hot chocolate.”  My mom was thrilled to have a hot cup of java waiting and cinnamon rolls out of the oven – that was the best present of all.   Jack loved that when his dad was over at our house he barely drank which kept his temper in check – under these conditions he could be a genuinely charming guy. 

We sat around the living room and exchanged presents – everyone had something to open.  For Jack this was the first Christmas he had with other kids and I could tell he was enjoying the dynamic.   My mother handed Jack and I our presents and I could tell she thought she had hit it out of the park.   

“Here boys, I hope this is what you wanted.”  We tore into the wrapping paper and saw the Ghostbuster’s logo so we had hopes that our dream had come true.  But as we looked closer – we had proton packs but they were just toys for little kids to play with.  I looked over at my mom who seemed so proud of the packs. 
“Hey thanks Mom, this is great,”  I said trying to mask my disappointment.   “Yes, Mrs. Jackson, thank you so much for this – I really appreciate it,”  Jack said also trying to mask his dejection.  The room just felt awkward.  

Finally, Debbie said, “Hey why don’t we get some more hot coco and cinnamon rolls.”   We headed to the kitchen – still smiling but feeling like we’d been kicked in the stomach.

Finally, all the presents had been opened – I got a few clothes for school, my mom bought Jack a couple of shirts and his Dad some books on history that he had mentioned he wanted to read.   Tom Bronson unveiled for my dad a custom iron drum BBQ and smoker which had made – apparently he used to make those in the army for his unit when they served in Vietnam which gave him another good reason to come over.  

The lack of real proton packs not withstanding – Christmas was actually pretty good.  I got to spend it with my friends and family.  Jack’s disappointment turned to joy when Debbie started to model some of the clothes she had gotten.  “Seriously Dude, your sister is smoking!”  he whispered and this time I did not try to put down his enthusiasm – it was Christmas after all and anything was possible. 

After the ladies started to clean up the wrapping paper and the kitchen – my

father asked Jack and I to come out into his workshop in the backyard.  We put on our jackets and walked outside.  It was about 45 and sunny as we made the short trek to the place my dad tinkered with things like lawn mowers, leaf blowers,  bicycle repair – you name it and my dad would try to fix it.  We walked into the shop and saw two objects that were covered up on the wall.  Jack’s dad was waiting for us. 

“Boys, we know that you had your hearts set on Proton packs and that the ones you got are more like toys than the real thing – but Santa had to work overtime and his elves just delivered these,” Tom Bronson announced proudly.  

The dads pulled the covers off and there right in front of us were two proton packs which looked like the ones used in Ghostbusters! 
“Holy sh*t, these are amazing!”  exclaimed Jack and then realizing he cursed said “Oh, f*ck I didn’t mean to say that!”  

We started to laugh as we got closer to something that we never thought we’d own.  

“Here take them off the wall and try them out.”   We put them on our backs and they felt pretty sturdy.  The Neutrona Arm actually had a blue beam of light which was created by a flash light and blue gel but it looked cool on the wall.  Real or not – these did not look like toys.  

“Hey, just one thing – your mother was so proud that she found those other ones – don’t let on that you have these.  You can keep them out here or at Jack’s – just out of her sight okay?” my father gently pleaded. 
“Sure dad, no problem.”   Our dads showed us more of the features – the cyclorama with the flashing lights and all the details like the ones from the movie.  

We walked out of the workshop – all smiles and high fiving each other – Christmas was finally living up to its reputation.   Mr. Bronson started to pack up their presents and headed home.   They would be back for dinner which was now going to include some smoked turkey.   Jack and I contemplated how to use our new piece of equipment.   

“Hey – there was that entity in the PE offices – why don’t we see if the building is open and see what we can find – just for an hour or so before dinner – c’mon I want to test drive the packs.”   I was not sure at first but then what was the point of having them if we did not use them.   I made sure my family was occupied and I told my parents we were headed over to Jack’s house. My dad saw us with the proton packs and thought we were moving them over there. 

 We walked the streets which were pretty quiet – kids were inside playing with their Christmas loot.  We traveled down the path of the PE office near the lockers and started to hear things clacking and moaning.  We turned the corner and once again there was Gus, but with a new girl on the couch.  Before we could leave, he spotted us. 

“Hey you little pervs – get the hell out of here before I –“ just then– the lockers started to open and close loudly.  Gus was trying to keep his cool but he was scared. 
“Stop doing that you little scum bags –“ he yelled as the teenage girl named Trudy on the couch started to scream.   Just then Mr. Bronson, my dad and Debbie rushed in.  
“I told you they would be here – wait – what?  Gus – who is this?” she said and pointed Trudy. 
“You have someone new already- you little ass—“  Debbie was cut off as the lockers started to shake.   Jack and I instinctively pointed the Neutrona Arm of our Proton packs in the direction of the noise and it immediately stopped.  

Gus screamed “This is f*cked up!” and ran out of the building – leaving his “date” behind.   Trudy started to run after him but Debbie stopped her. 
“Hey I don’t know you but I do know this – we deserve better. Gus is an a**hole!”  Trudy just looked at her and ran out – partially out of fear and partially out of embarrassment. 

The lockers started to open and close again.  

Our dads tried to make it stop by standing next to the lockers to keep them from moving.  Jack and I pointed the proton packs on the most active lockers and turned on the blue streams – just then the building lights went out and we could make out two forms.   They were full apparitions – it was hard to make out so we crossed our beams.  Then the entities truly came into focus and I nearly dropped the Neutrona Arm.  The ghosts were my MeMa and Jack’s Nana! 

Then MeMa started to speak, “Please don’t be sad – I’m looking out for you.  Jack and Tom - so is Nana.  We are in a better place – we love you.  We are with God and he loves you all. That’s what you have on this side – nothing but love.  Merry Christmas my sweets – just think of us and we’ll be there.”   

Nana and MeMa looked at the faces of those who loved and missed them and wished they could touch them once more.  The four most important men in their past lives stood there speechless with tears rolling down their cheeks.  Debbie reached out for her father and hugged him in a way she had not in months.  MeMa and Nana could feel that the group was finally at peace with what had happened.  They faded out with big smiles on their faces.

We all walked out of the field house wondering if we had seen what we thought we saw.  Some like Debbie had a hard time believing it but I didn’t – I knew it was her. I got to see my MeMa once last time and she was magnificent.   My dad told me that Jack and I should definitely pursue being paranormal investigators.  Even Jack’s dad was won over by this encounter - he got to see his mother again and it helped him cope with the death of his wife.  For Jack, seeing his Nana again was the culmination of all he had worked for and having us all see the same thing at the same time strengthened his resolve.  
For me, that Christmas restored a lot of things – my belief in myself, the ability to kickass and take names but most of all – I realized that there was a God.  He had a plan even if I didn’t always understand or like it.  I even changed my New Year’s Resolution.  This time when I went to church I would actually talk to God and now I would also be smart enough to be still and finally listen. 

A Night in Kellum Hall

As we rounded West Tennessee Street in Tallahassee and went through the main gate at Florida State, I had two dueling emotions - elation and sadness at the same time.  The excitement of starting a new phase of your life but sadly reflecting on who and what you had left behind - my beautiful Etta and my mother who tried to make me a society maven like her.  Just 10 hours earlier I was still in my room that I had lived in since I was a toddler and now I was going to spend the night in a new place with new people.  I knew I would be home for the holidays and summer breaks, but I would miss not seeing them every day.  

My father pulled the red Corolla in front of Kellum Hall as a Resident Assistant name Chad asked my name and if I had my room assignment.  I pulled out my paperwork and smiled at my dad because the road to getting here had been perilous.  My ability to see the dead had made a normal childhood all but impossible and even as we drove from Atlanta to Florida, we had encountered ghosts from the past - Klansmen who needed to be banished to the hell they had sentenced others to in their lifetime.  Needless to say it was a long drive physically, spiritually, and emotionally.  It was also 8:00 pm so check-in for the day was coming to a close. 

Chad told me that the dorm was co-ed but the girls' floors were on the top and the boy’s floors were on the bottom.  My father immediately asked if there was room in Jennie Murphree which was known on campus as the Screaming Tower of Virgins.  Thankfully it was full with a waiting list – no doubt for parents who wanted the illusion that their daughters would still be untouched after four years at a state college.

We started to bring my suitcases and boxes upstairs to the ninth floor.  The smell of slight mildew, sweat, stale beer, and hormones hung in the air as we waited for the elevator.  “Sugar Bear, you’re sure you’re ready for this?” my father said with an enormously concerned look on his face.  “Dad, I’ll be fine – besides the Wilsons are right next door and have been here a week already –they can give me the lay of the land.”  He relented I think still secretly hoping that I’d decide against staying so he could drive me back.  I was his oldest – his baby girl and the guilt of leaving my mother when I was six always weighed on him.  He would see me every weekend, at school functions and for holidays but he knew it wasn’t the same.  Then when he got remarried and had two more daughters – the tightrope of trying to be all things to all the females in the family got tighter.  God forbid we ever started having our menstrual cycles together. 

I had known the Wilson sisters since kindergarten when we met fighting off a racist ghost who was not keen on an integrated school being built in his land – a place that the local KKK had once used for rallies.  The Wilsons were the first black girls to attend the school which didn’t sit well with a few people both living and dead but we managed to form a strong bond as a result of that adversity.  Besides my father thought the world of them and it was the only way he’d let me go to FSU rather than the University of Georgia which was just 40 minutes away.  

So here we were – my dad and I put together the room – or my half of it which was a bed, a dresser, a small closet, a desk, and a mini-refrigerator.  The bathroom was a few doors down with shared toilets and showers.  It was still a week before school started but the bulk of the rush parties for sororities and fraternities had taken place.  Most of what was going on now was small get-togethers, the impromptu Tide slide (when the guys in a dorm wing get the floors all wet and soapy and then slide bare-assed down the hallway – it is way more stupid than it sounds if you can believe that) and ice water socials where potential sororities invited you to see them.  You had to wear white and drink ice water like a proper young lady – which definitely was not for me.

“Hey, Miss Sophia – how about I go back to my hotel and I pick you up for a late dinner at Chez Pierre?” my father asked like a was a real lady who deserved a fancy dinner.  I actually would have been happy with pizza and a can of Coke but it was my last night with my dad before the college part of my life started.  “Of course daddy – see you in an hour?” I asked and hoped I’d be able to find a decent dress and shoes among all the suitcases and boxes.  I got my shower caddy together with a towel, soap, shampoo, face cleanser, and moisturizer.  I walked out into the hallway which had young women and men coming and going.  It seemed strange that I could shower and just about anyone could walk in on me- but then this was what dorm life was all about.   

I started the steamy shower and made sure the curtain was closed on my first sultry summer night in North Florida, only to have a chill catch me by surprise.  Something seemed off as one of my floormates walked in with her roommate.  “I really don’t want Dexter over tonight – he’s weird.  I’d just like to hang out in the lower lounge, watch TV and eat pizza.”  “C’mon,” her roommate begged “He’s been really nice to me and I’d like to try that game he was talking about,” countered the other girl.  
“Okay, but by 11 he needs to be out – promise me Cynthia.”  “Fine Lynnette – but try to be nice to him.”  The two girls went into their respective stalls, took care of business and left.  I finished my shower, dried off and put on my robe making sure no one could see me as I ran across the hall to my own room.

I found a simple skirt and tunic top and some flats and finished putting on my make-up.  I went downstairs to wait for my dad who was let into the lobby by a couple of girls who gave him the once over and declared him "super cute" for an older guy as they grabbed a few more girls to go to a frat party.  We left arm in arm and frankly I didn't care if anyone thought I was nerdy for wanting to hang out with my dad.  

We got to Chez Pierre at 9:45 pm just in time for the last seating.  The Maitre D' recognized daddy and set us at a nice table by the window.

We both smiled as he handed us our menus - looking at each other across the table was really the first quiet non-road trip moment that we'd had with each other all day.   I had learned so much about my dad and had so much to say but found myself trying to keep it together so as not to ruin our last dinner before I was an official college student.  "Daddy - I - really --thank you for today - for telling me --" I started to say just as our overly chipper waiter came over.   "Hey folks - welcome to Chez Pierre - my name is Denny and I'll be your server this evening - may I interest you in a glass of wine, sir?"  The moment was broken and my dad went into his usual nice guy mode - ordering wine for him, a virgin Margarita for me and some escargot as an appetizer and chicken for dinner.  It seemed ironic that just four hours earlier we had been fighting ghostly Klansmen who were also abolitionists in Cordele, Georgia but here we were in Tallahassee having drinks and snails.  

"Sugar bear - let's not tell your mother about this afternoon- I'm pretty sure she'd freak out and be upset that I never really shared with her that I had - that I could see ghosts,"  he said quietly looking down.  I knew she blamed him and me for the end of their marriage - Daddy for bailing on her and me for seeing ghosts and spilling the secrets they told me at the family reunion.  

Denny returned with our drinks and appetizer and we talked about regular college stuff just like any other father and daughter would do.  I had always wanted these normal moments but they always seemed to allude me.   We finished dinner around 11:30 pm and Daddy dropped me off at the dorm.  "See you tomorrow for lunch before I leave, Sugar Bear," he said and gave me a huge hug as I got out of the car.   I smiled - still fighting my emotions but not letting on how lost I felt.

I walked past the student lounge that smelled of Budweizer, cigarettes and pizza.  There was an episode of Saturday Night Live playing in the background.  I walked up to my dorm room and saw that the Wilson girls has there door ajar next door. I knocked as Joy was getting a piece of pizza out of the delivery box.  "Sophia!!"  she squealed and we hugged each other.  "Sophia?" asked Grace as she came into the room holding her shower caddy.  I gave her a big hug and felt like I at least had a piece of home to keep from being too lonely.  They noticed my attire and asked if I had a hot date already.  "No, I went out to dinner with my Dad," I replied to which Grace commented - "Well it was a hot date - you're father is smoking!"  "Ewew - that's my dad but apparently he's been getting the once over from a few girls tonight."  I sat on Grace's bed as I grabbed a slice of pizza even after the big dinner I had just eaten.  Snails just didn't hit the spot like pizza did.  

"So how have things been so far?" I asked wiping tomato sauce from the side of my mouth.  "Actually, not quite as wild as I would have expected, but we've been staying away from the frat parties," explained Grace.   "Bullwinkle's Saloon is pretty cool - you can get cheap beer there and the dance floor is fun.  Best of all, you can walk to it easily from here.
We'll take you -" Joy continued but stopped mid-sentence when we heard a young woman scream.  "What the hell?" I said as I looked down the hall.  A gray haze was settling around a room two doors down.  The haze was not from cigarettes or pot, but was being given off by a less than friendly entity.  I saw some kids pile out of the room as the woman continued to scream.  

The Wilsons and I ran down to see what was going on.  As we looked in the room, there was a terrified girl sitting on the bed sobbing "A demon, a demon tried to get me!" she screamed.  Grace and Joy looked at me and I tried to focus in on what she was seeing. The dense haze was trying to cover up the entity but I saw that it was emanating from a Ouija board.  "Jesus Christ," I thought to myself, "I really hate when people use these things - nothing good ever comes of it."   

"Cynthia - for God's sake just calm down!" said a girl whose voice I recognized as Lynnette from earlier.  I remembered they were talking about a guy named was Dexter and he was pretty easy to pick out.  A guy who was looking nervous and smoking cigarettes rather than trying to reassure this poor young woman.  Grace leaned into me - "I know you wanted a fresh start but is there anything you can do?"  I looked closer at Cynthia and while her eyes looked wild and glassy - l realized that some of that might have been drug induced. 

"Has she taken anything tonight?" I asked trying not to accuse anyone of using drugs but they got my drift.  The collective unease of the room got stronger.  "Dexter gave her something - I don't know what it was," said Lynnette who was so upset she was shaking.   Cynthia lunged off the bed and grabbed me  "They are saying you can help - please help me," she sobbed and became limp.  "I'm calling Father Fetcher from the church down the road," said one of the girls who lived across  the hall.  "Yes, do that please," I said quickly. "Dexter what did you give her?" I commanded realizing I'd have to take matters into my own hands until someone with more experience arrived.  Dexter just looked down and didn't say anything as he took another drag off his Malboro.  "Dammit, answer me!"  "It was just one hit of acid - it shouldn't have done this," he replied nervously.  

Great - hits of acid while playing with a Ouija board - how f*cking stupid was that?  No wonder Lynnette was not crazy about him.   The entity started to move towards Cynthia.  "Get back!" I yelled at the apparition and the group moved out of the dorm room thinking I was talking to them.   "Claire would you go into my dorm room and get the rock salt that is in my big suitcase?" I said quietly to not to alert this thing as to my intentions. 

Claire left quickly so it was just me, Grace, Cynthia and Lynnette in the room.  Cynthia's body felt like it was burning up and she was sweating profusely.  "This is more than a bad acid trip," I thought to myself as the plastic pointer on the

Ouija board started to move in it's own.  Lynnette started to get hysterical and I could see that Grace was freaked but true to her name she told Lynnette that I was an expert on ghosts and had the situation handled.   "Who are you?" I asked trying to get a name so that it could be banished.  The plastic pointer spelled out the word "DIE".   The room got darker and colder and the entity was feeding off of Lynnette's fear.  "Okay, everyone out but me and Cynthia - please," I said not sure what I was going to do.  Just as they left, Claire showed up with the rock salt at the same time that Father Fetcher arrived.  He was a young priest - probably in his 30's with dark wavy hair and a slim build.  He had his priest collar on and a small suitcase which I hoped were his tools as a demonologist to help get rid of this aggressive entity.

"Hey there - I'm Father Fetcher - "  "Get out," said Cynthia in a very masculine voice "You and your ways are not welcome here."  Claire threw me the zip lock of rock salt and then left quickly.  Father Fetcher looked a little shaken.  "They were playing with a Ouija board and taking hits of acid," I explained hoping that might update them quickly.  "Were you playing the game as well?" he asked irritated and fumbling with his case.  "No, I'm was out with my dad but I'm a -I can see-" I hesitated and then Cynthia said, "They are saying Sophia can see spirits - please let her help me!" 

Cynthia passed out again but then quickly came to and had a strange look on her face.  The haze that was around the board had now moved over her.  The door slammed by itself which startled both me and Fr. Fetcher.  "They told us in seminary that this could get really bad - "  The soda cans on the table started to shake and fall on the floor.  "F*cking A - it's a dorm room with a f*cking Ouija board and people doing drugs.  Don't they know that entities like this are hanging all around us and this sh*t just invites the evil in!" stated the angry Padre.  I had to admit - I liked a priest who knew how to curse under pressure.

"Cynthia-I am Father Eugene Fetcher of St. Thomas More - I'm here to help you - try not to be afraid.  You're having a bad trip right now and seeing some very bad things - but the power of Christ can help you."   The bed started to shake and Cynthia started to whimper.   I could see the demon hovering - he had a red blood stained face that looked like a human skeleton with large teeth and black hair.  "Father, he's right over her.  I have some black rock salt - do you need me to use it?" I whispered but the demon looked my way and started to move it's mouth slowly.  "That sounds a little pagan to me but I've never done this before so I'm open to anything.  Does it work?" he whispered back.  "It banished some Klansmen ghosts earlier today with my dad," I replied matter of factly.  "Wow, so you have some experience - that's great.  Cool - cool.  Um, I'll pull out some oil and holy water with my bible and you -" He was cut off when his briefcase went flying and the items scattered to the ground.  "Shit!" we muttered at the same time.  

Cynthia's back started to arch and her mouth started to open - the entity was floating over her and the evil mist started to flow into her mouth.  "If we don't do something soon, she will be possessed," I said urging him to act quickly.   He crawled over to where the briefcase was and grabbed the vials of Holy water and oils.  Cynthia grabbed one of my hands and pulled me towards her - her face now a combination of bloody skeleton and her own flesh. I could not get her icy hand to let go and it looked like she was going to bite me with her teeth which were now fangs.  The room got colder and darker and I started to shiver. 

The heat of Cynthia's breath felt like it would scald my hand if it got any closer.  I reached into my pocket and ripped open the baggie of rock salt.  I threw it into the face of the demon/Cynthia.  She howled and let go my of hands to rub her eyes.   The room started to shake like we were in an earthquake and the Ouija board went flying.  Father Fetcher found the vials of holy water and oil which were broken - he cut his finger on the glass as he took the fluid off the floor and sprinkled them in her face as well.  He took a deep breath and spoke in an commanding voice: "Holy Michael, the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our safeguard against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray; and do you, O Prince of the heavenly host, by the power of God cast into hell Satan and all the evil spirits who wander through the world seeking the ruin of souls. Amen."  

I kept looking at the demon which was got smaller while the prayer was being said.  Suddenly, a big blue light with a sword appeared.  An abbess opened up in the floor and the blue light which now appeared to be an angel pointed his sword to the darkness.  The diminished demon struggled to stay in this world but the power of the sword was too strong and he let out an unholy moan as he was sucked into the unknown.  The floor quickly closed and the room shuttered.  The angel looked at me and Father Fetcher.  He nodded and then looked up to the sky as he disappeared leaving a trail of blue and white light.   

Cynthia's body started to relax and she came to.  Father Fetcher as was covered in sweat and his once white collar was gray.   "Did you see any of that?" I whispered still trying to comprehend it all.  "I caught a little blue light in the end but you'll have to tell me all about it," he said smiling.  The lights in the room got brighter and the room felt like a normal temperature again. "We make a pretty good team, are you Catholic?"  "No, Episcopal," I replied.  "Close enough," he retorted and we both started laughing.  "Sorry about the cursing - being a priest is still pretty new and I can have a bit of a mouth," he said holding the small cut on his finger.  "No worries, you're secret is safe with me," I replied.  

Lynnette, Claire and Grace came running in.  "Hey, are you all okay?" Claire asked.  "The floor was shaking."    Cynthia opened her eyes and they looked normal again.  "What happened?" she asked thankfully not remembering anything about the spiritual attack and noticing that there was a priest in her dorm room.  "Oh my God, did I sleep through Mass?"   "No, but I will be confiscating this Ouija board in the name of the church and burn the damn thing.   Hear me now all of you- I never want any of you to play this game again.  You have no idea what you are working with and bad sh-- I mean -- really bad things can happen," said Father Fetcher catching himself.  "Make sure you get plenty of sleep the next few days and eat healthy raw foods," the Padre advised as he put a band aid on his cut finger.  We cleaned up the room quickly and packed up the brief case just as Cynthia was falling back to sleep.  "Keep an eye on her for the next 24 hours just to make sure she's okay," I said as we left.  

Fr. Fetcher, Joy, Grace and I walked down the hallway as Chad the RA ran up.  "Hey, is everything okay up here?  We heard screams and like this side of the building was shaking."   
"We're fine," Father Fetcher replied. 

I noticed that Dexter was standing in the hallway, still smoking and not making eye contact with anyone.  "I am not going to turn you in this time, but if you even try to spell the word 'acid' I will see to it that the powers that be will make your life a living hell," I said directly and quietly.  Dexter looked at me and nodded.  He put out his cigarette and walked down the back stair well.  

"Do you have a place for me to burn this?" asked the priest who didn't want to have the Ouija board near him any longer than he had to.   "We have an incinerator in the basement - do you want to throw it in there?" Chad replied.  "That works," replied Fr. Fetcher.  

"Hey, would you like to have lunch with me, Joy, Grace and my dad tomorrow?  He'd be very interested to meet you," I asked hoping the good Father would say yes.  "Of course Miss Sophia, I'd love to talk to your dad and congratulate him on raising such a smart and capable daughter in so many ways," he smiled and then went off with Chad to burn that God forsaken game.

I got back to my room and the day mercifully came to an end. I was bone tired and exhausted and hoped the rest of the week would be quiet.  I also wondered how things would be since I was now "outed" as a medium at least for the girls on this floor.  But those thoughts quickly gave way to sleep which I was in dire need of. 

I woke up the next morning around 11:00 am - not in my bed at home like the day before but in my new home for the next four years.  The phone rang as I struggled to figure out where it was.   "Hey Sugar Bear, how was your first night in the dorm?" my dad asked.  "It was interesting - I met a priest and learned a new prayer," I replied sweetly not wanting to worry him.  "In fact he's coming to have lunch with us," I mentioned casually.  "A priest - will a Rabbi also be joining us?" my father joked.  I laughed and realized how much I would miss seeing him but we had bonded on this trip in a way I could not have expected.  "Hey daddy, I really love you - you know that right?" I said suddenly.  "Sugar bear, I love you too. So much.  I'll see you and the Wilson girls soon," he said with his voice breaking.  I hung up the phone realizing that although I was on my own for the first time I had friends and people who loved me so I would never be truly alone.  

The Rock Salt Circle

I woke up for the last time in my room on Lake Lanier to the smell of strawberry waffles and fresh brewed coffee.  “Hey there sweetie – time to get up,” my Granddaddy said as the sun rose over the blue water.  He looked tired which for a ghost was saying a lot.  I knew I would miss him terribly when I went to college even though I had never met him when he was alive.  He came into my world about the time my kitten Sassy was hit by a car when I was six and I prayed to see her one more time.  My prayers were answered when I was able to see the spirit of my sweet kitty along with a whole host of ghosts who decided that they needed the help of a six year old to get closure on their unfinished business.  All of it was over whelming until Granddaddy stepped in from beyond and started to take control of the situation so that his great-granddaughter would not be too traumatized by the fact she could see a wide array of dead people.  

“Okay, I’m up.  But I still don’t understand why you can’t come with me Granddad,” I said not knowing how I would negotiate a whole new world of ghosts without him.   “Now, girlie-girl –we talked about this - I’m bound to this place – the city itself – I can't leave and besides someone needs to keep an eye on your mother,” he said with a smile and a wink.  I smiled back but we both knew it would be a while before I came back home for a visit after the disaster of my Cotillion.  My date - who was the son of one of the richest doctors in town- turned out to be a serial rapist.  I managed to get away before it was too late but two of my classmates – Betty and Sherry – were not so lucky.  My last week at home was a flurry of interviews with police officers who were trying to build a case against Tad Palmer.  At this point I just wanted to get out of town and start my new life in Tallahassee at Florida State.

Granddaddy  sat on-top of my suitcases and looked down.  I sensed that he was going to miss me as much as I was going to miss him.  "I love you Granddaddy," I said as I sat next to him.   "You're the purest soul I've ever met - don't let the bastards get you down.  You got a gift - don't be afraid to use it."   I smiled and leaned in forgetting he was not solid.  I fell off the suitcases which made Granddaddy laugh.  "Girly girl - you do that every time and it makes me smile.  And...I love you too!"  he smiled and faded out.

I threw on my favorite jeans and Bruce Springsteen t-shirt and headed down the stairs.  Etta was standing at the stove making my favorite breakfast.  “Hey Etta,” I said quietly.  This woman had been my rock and I was closer to her by far than my own mother.  She never treated me like a freak because I could see ghosts – she always loved me for who I was.  “Hey there – I made your favorite breakfast for my favorite girl –“ her voice broke off.  We both looked at each other and our eyes started to well up.  I always felt safe in her arms from the time I was a toddler.  I thought she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen – her dark eyes and skin seemed so exotic to me.  She had also guided me through the thorny path of being able to see the dead.  Having grown up in New Orleans she had special understanding of the occult and for her my abilities were not freakish. She never made me feel weird or tried to dismiss what I saw as a child's flight of fancy.  She never wavered – she just loved me.  She smoothed down my hair and served up her classic strawberry waffles and maple bacon.  “I’m going to miss this Etta – you and me having breakfast together – “ “Now Baby Girl – don’t get me started – your father will be here any minute and you know how he hates emotional goodbyes.”

Mother came downstairs with her platinum blond hair coiffed, a cream colored pair of slacks and a matching apricot sweater set -no matter what that woman always had time to coordinate.   “Well Sophia - I can’t believe today is the day.  Are you sure you want to go to now and not wait until January – especially after everything that’s happened?”  she asked showing some genuine concern and residual guilt for setting me up with Tad.  She sat down with us and had coffee which was her habit.  She didn’t really eat breakfast - coffee and a cigarette which she sneaked when no one was around - was her morning ritual.   

The three of us sat there awkwardly - my birth mother and my emotional mother trying to find the right words.  It's interesting when you know one phase of your life is ending and another beginning so you can prepare -  it happens with things like marriages, births, new jobs and going to college.  But so much of life's changes are unexpected - like learning that you can see ghosts or that your date might just take something from you that is precious with terrible force.  

Most times the unexpected is death - and those spirits that can't accept it usually come to someone like me for help.  I try to keep that in mind when I'm bombarded by them but I've come to realize too many people are just not ready to let go - no matter how old they are.   There are any number of grandmothers that come to tell me that they still keep tabs on their children and grandchildren.  Children that still hang around their parents trying to offer comfort.  All needing my help and hoping I might be able to offer a message or two to  those they loved so they can find some peace.   It's a blessing and a curse as Etta put it - so few who had the gift and actually did the right thing by it.  I was apparently one of the few. 

I could discuss these things with Etta.  My mother was just too uncomfortable with it and had always wished I was still her obedient little girl with blond hair and blue eyes who would do exactly as she said before I changed - before Sassy died.  My ability was definitely not one she was prepared for and I think she mourns for the child that I was and the marriage she thinks she lost because of it.  

My father entered with his usual cheer - putting on a happy face even though he had spent the last week berating my mother for the whole Cotillion disaster.  He blamed her for trying to make me a debutante and feeling like my station in life was supposed to be dictated by the man I was destined to marry.  But in the last day or two, he became less frustrated with Mom realizing that it was not helping the situation and was only making me more anxious. 

"Hello ladies!  How's my college girl?"  "I'm good daddy - we can go anytime," I said ready to get the hell out of dodge but still not quite sure I was ready to leave everything I had ever known - both good and bad.  "Do I have some time for coffee and some of Etta's famous waffles?" he asked.  "Of course Daddy - I'll bring my bags downstairs."  "Hold your horses - Sugar Bear - let me have some breakfast and then we'll get going."  My dad sat down and ate breakfast with his girls and made jokes which made us laugh. I wished it could have always been like this.   He and my mother had been at each other's throats but now that I was leaving there seemed to be a relative calm over the house.  

"Sophia, your mother and I have a surprise for you," Daddy said with a huge smile that my mother also mirrored.  "You need a way to get around campus so here you are."  In the drive way was a red 1980 Toyota  Celica it was the cutest car I had ever seen.  "We'll drive down in this and then I'll fly back on Sunday."  I stood in awe that they were able to keep it a secret and I hugged both of them.  "Thank you - oh my God - I can't believe I have my own wheels!"  
  

Daddy and I loaded up my stuff and I was glad that I had mostly suitcases that fit in the trunk along with Dad's one overnight bag.   I gave Etta a big hug goodbye and another one to my mother who to my surprise I was actually going to miss.  Daddy handed me the keys but I let him drive since he made me nervous whenever I got behind the wheel.  I looked out the window as we pulled out of the driveway so my dad could not see how hard I was crying.   He touched my hand and said, "It's okay Sugar bear, I understand - change is a very hard thing - it's a good thing sometimes but it's also tough to do."  I nodded and sat back.  

Leaving the house I had grown up in, I realized that Daddy and Mother had been divorced longer now than they had been married.  He left the day after the family reunion that my mother orchestrated to show what a big happy family we were.  He had planned it long before I started to see ghosts but in my mother's mind - that was his tipping point.  He'd get me every weekend and we'd spend it together until Cynthia came into his life and then it was every other weekend.   She tried to act like my mother -but I was so angry at the fact that he wanted to spend more time with her than me that we were never very close.  Eventually they got married and she had two daughters - my half sisters Patricia and Abby.  I was 10 when Patricia was born and 12 when Abby arrived.  I had tried to get along with them but the age difference was an issue as well as the fact in my mind that they had stolen my daddy.  I was 18 now and they were eight and six and most of the time felt like their sitter rather than their sister. 

As we were driving I realized that this trip would be most uninterrupted time in years that I had with my father.  Between his marriage, my two half sisters and his law practice - we had very little one-on-one time since I was about six years old.  He felt guilty about the Cotillion and how he was unable to protect me.  It was not his fault - not really my mother's fault either - it was really a world that valued money, power and social position which gave some people in that strata the idea that they could perpetrate any crime and there would be no repercussions.  While my parents had serious qualms about me attending college on my own - I guess they figured if I could handle being assaulted and fighting back and all the ghosts that had come at me over the last 12 years - I could probably handle frat boys.  At least now, I knew what to look for in the asshole department and avoid it.  Frankly, unlike a lot of girls my age - I was not looking for a boyfriend my first week in college. 

As we pulled away from Atlanta on I-75, the reality of starting fresh in Tallahassee hit me full on.  It was fun and scary at the same time.  We made our way down Georgia to Macon and I got some strong impressions but was not sure if it was my own nerves or actually something supernatural going on.  I-75 looked basically the same for hours - the only thing that broke things up were billboards advertising trucker strip joints and gas stations that sold boiled peanuts.  

As we drove into exit 33 and the city of Cordele - I caught sight of a rocket that seemed to be very out of place and asked Daddy if he knew what it was.  "Sugar bear - that is a genuine Confederate nuclear missile," he said matter-of-factley.  "It's a what?" I asked.  "Here let's pull off and I'll show you."  Sure enough as we drove in - there was a plaque near the 11 story missile that explained that it had flown into space in the 1960's.  "That's cool dad," said wishing we had more time to explore the weird side of Georgia.  Just then - I got a very uncomfortable feeling.   There was something weird nearby but I could not get a good fix on it.  My father noticed my face and got the drift that something was askew.  He quickly paid for the Icees from the gas station next to the missile and we were soon back on our way.  

"Hey why don't we get off I-75 and hit some back roads just to break things up?" he asked.  "That sounds great Daddy,"   I said but I felt light headed and closed my eyes hoping a little sleep might clear my head.  We went on Route 300 and the feelings only got more intense.  I kept on seeing flashes of Klansman along the side of the road and other people running away from them - some white and some black.  I could also smell whiskey and gun powder.  My father got quiet and serious as well.  "Daddy - did you see something?" I asked wondering if he could feel it too.  "No Sugar Bear, it's just getting later than I'd like - I wanted you to be there before dark," he said trying reassure me.  

The images kept appearing and disappearing.  Seeing the KKK didn't surprise me - we were in Georgia after all but the people looked like they were from the 1920's - not from the Civil War.  The people dressed as the Klan seemed to be trying to capture the white people with the same vigor as they had for people with darker skin.  Just when I wondered if it was my overactive imagination - we drove by a farm with a confederate flag flying high over the crops. 

"Sweet suffering Jesus - some people  just cannot give up the fight," my father said with a huge dose of disdain.  I was feeling a real heaviness on my chest and my head hurt.  I also had to go to the bathroom but didn't want to stop around here but my bladder had a different idea - damn that extra large Icee.   "Daddy, can we stop?  I really have to use the ladies room."   We drove past some interesting sites like the Salt Lick Sausage Factory and the future location of the Grits Festival trying to find a road side stop.  We finally found one - a small filling station next to a country store that seemed quaint.  My head was still feeling strange but I attributed that to the fact that I was going to burst if I didn't get to a john ASAP.  I ran into the store and sighed with relief when I saw the word restroom on the back.  My dad got some coffee and talked to the sales clerk who was a heavy set woman in her 40's and a teased up-do with bright red lipstick. 

As I entered the bathroom which had a few stalls, I felt something in there that was not friendly.  "Hey, I just need to go to the bathroom and I'll leave you be - I really don't want any trouble," I said to the entity that seemed to be spoiling for a fight.  I used the toilet and started to wash my hands when something literally shoved me against the stall door.  "Hey, that's enough - I mean you no harm now let me go in peace," I said more sternly just like Granddaddy had taught me.  Just than I heard the phrase "Too late, N-gger lover" as I got thrown out of the bathroom.  

I tried to keep my composure as the clerk named Aggie and Daddy watched me nearly trip over a display by the bathroom.  "Be careful Sugar Bear -" he said not realizing I was being harangued by something on the other side.   Daddy handed me his coffee cup and I took a sip which helped steady me.  "What is the history here Aggie?" I asked casually but I had a pretty good idea of what it was.  

Aggie looked  uncertain at telling a pair of outsiders what the place had once been.  "Oh, you know, farms around these parts - God fearing people mostly.  We're actually gearing up for the Grits Festival -" she replied when all of the sudden the cigarette display behind her fell forward.   "What the hell?" she asked as she leaned over to pick up a pack of Lucky Strikes when the beef jerky in an nearby isle was also knocked over.  "Daddy, we need to go now - I get the feeling the spirits don't like us here," I whispered. 

But my warning came too late.  There was a circle of ghostly Klansman surrounding the outside of the store.  It didn't matter that it was barely dusk- they were out for blood and whelded axes and torches.  My father looked outside and jumped back.   "Daddy, do you see that?" I asked quietly.  "Sugar bear we best not go outside," he whispered back.  The clerk got under the counter trying to pick up cigarettes.  I saw the apparitions of men in white sheets rush the front of the store. The doors to the beer display were thrown open while bottles of Bud and Heineken exploded causing glass and ale to flood the place.  The bottles of carefully arranged Boones Farm Strawberry Wine also started to implode. We jumped behind the counter with the Aggie.  "Hey- has this happened before?" I asked as more glass and alcohol smashed around us.  "This here county was dry up until about six months ago and we just started selling beer and wine last night," she replied.  "Was the Klan active around here with prohibition?" I asked trying to keep my voice down.  Aggie looked down realizing keeping the family secret was not worth it anymore.  "Yes, outside of Atlanta, this was one of the most active Klan Orders in Georgia.  They went from lynching coloreds to killing bootleggers in the 1920's.  My great grandfather was the Grand-Dragon and this was their headquarters.  Our store was failing so once we were not a dry county anymore we decided to sell alcohol."   

The smell of the beer and wine was getting to me and I felt sick.  We crawled to the storage room and tried to get out through the back door only to see a still in the supply area blocking the exit.  "Holy shit," my father whispered, "you  have a still?  Do you know how flammable that stuff is?"  "It's a sideline we were hoping to launch when we got a full liquor license," Aggie replied still not sensing how much danger we were in even with all the glass breaking in the store.  We saw the back door open and another ghostly figure in a red Klan outfit walk through the door.  Aggie could not see him but Daddy and I could.  "Ladies get behind me," he said as he grabbed two broom sticks and twisted the ends off of them.  He then broke one in half.   He grabbed a box of rock salt that was near an ice cream maker and threw a handful in the face of the ghost as we ran out the door.  The ghost stopped and covered his face.  Daddy found a hammer, nails and a gas can near a lawn mower outside.  He hammered the two sticks together to make a cross and then poured gas over it. 

"What the hell are you doing?  You can't do that here -" said Aggie afraid of stirring up images of the past that her family had tried to erase.  "Look, that glass breaking is a bunch of pissed off Klan ghosts who think your defaming their land by selling booze," I replied understanding where my dad was going with this.  "We need to lure them away from the store or they will completely destroy it," my dad stated.  It dawned on me that he knew more about ghosts than he had ever let on.  

We ran to the home behind the store with a small pond and a large backyard.  I looked and saw the Grand Dragon close behind.   "Do you know where some matches are?" I asked.  Aggie looked in the BBQ but there were none to be found.  "We need to light this or your store is gone."  We searched frantically and heard the rhythmic footsteps coming closer.  He spied some copper wire and iron nails on the porch that looked like they were part of some art project on black velvet.      

''Daddy plunged the cross in a couple of bags of soil and started to put a big copper ring around the bottom of the cross with the nails and wire.   "Dammit - I need matches or a lighter - anything!" he exclaimed as we started to see the branches of the hedge nearby move.  I noticed a blow torch under a tarp.  "Hey will this do?" I asked.   "Yeah, but we need a spark," Dad replied as the plants around us started to move on their own and the Grand Dragon was in full visage - even Aggie could see him and screamed.  I looked near where I had found the blow torch and spied a flint.  I handed it to my father and he lit the cross. 

It was just getting to be dusk and the cross was visible over the pond.  We could hear the ghost scream "No one burns a cross on my lawn, that's for n-ggers!"  The Grand Dragon rushed to the flames as Daddy closed the copper ring making it impossible for him to escape.   "Sophia, put a circle of rock salt around you and Aggie - then throw me the box!"  I did just as he said and kept Aggie close to me.  Daddy grabbed some ash from the BBQ and mixed it with the salt and started to say the 91st Psalm.  The other ghostly Klansmen started to come through the yard - with blood on their hands and blood dripping from their masks.  Aggie shreiked - they came near us but could not touch us because we were in the rock salt circle.   

They turned to Daddy who kept in reciting the 91st Psalm - “Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.   I will say of the Lord, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress - my God, in whom I trust’…” The Klansmen looked confused as their leader was powerless and writhing in pain.  “Because he loves me says the Lord, I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name. He will call on me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him. With long life I will satisfy him and show him my salvation," my father recited confidently never breaking eye contact with the evil wizard trapped in copper wire.  Just as he got the the last line -  "I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him. With long life I will satisfy him and show him my salvation," he threw the ash and rock salt in Grand Dragon's face.  The flames then engulfed his red robes and you could here his moans  which were magnified over the pond.  He had tried to say on this earthly plane for as long as possible but now the gates of hell were pulling him in and he was no longer in control.  The rest of the Klansmen stopped in their tracks and let out a ghostly howl as the pond opened up like a fiery pit and sucked them into an unholy abyss.       

A quick hot breeze brushed by us and then everything went

silent.   I looked over at Aggie - who had her hands over her ears and her eyes closed.  "It's okay Aggie - they're gone," my father said quietly.  Aggie opened her eyes and the pond was quiet with barely a ripple.  The only thing that looked fiery was the sun as it was setting behind the magnolia trees. 

"Let's get a broom and clean up the store but if you know a priest or a minister - I'd have him do a blessing before you open back up," Daddy said wisely.  I didn't say anything because it all seemed so surreal not just the run-in with the ghosts of the Klan but my father being able to banish them.     

We helped Aggie throw away all the broken glass and mop up the floor which smelled of sweet wine and old beer.  They had destroyed about half the alcohol stock but at least the store was still standing.  Aggie thanked us but I was pretty sure that she was in shock.  I gave her the Angel of God prayer to calm her down and my father suggested that she do the 91st Psalm every day before she went to bed and to put rock salt around the property as well as the windows to keep bad spirits out.   He grabbed an extra box and had me put in my suitcase just in case we saw anymore unfriendlies on the road.

As we got in the car, I looked at my father-completely amazed at what he'd done.  "Daddy, how did you - I mean you never - you could see all that?" I asked still wrapping my head around it.  "I mean all this time - you never let on - you never tried to tell me - " I said trying not to get angry - but hell this was a pretty big secret to keep considering I had been seeing ghosts for the last 12 years of my life. 

"Sugar Bear, I didn't know how to tell you and frankly you can see and talk to them way better than me.  But these entities, they were so strong and evil I could see them easily and frankly they were only going to be banished by someone who seemed like an Alpha male," he said with a huge degree of authority.  "But the bible verse, the salt and ash, you knew what to do - what if I had been alone?" I asked.  "I know which is why I wanted to take this car trip with just you and me to try to explain my life a little better and how you can banish ghosts.  Your great-grandmother had the gift and then I got it to a certain degree and then it landed on you.  I never told your mother," he said with remorse in his voice.  "I should have been there more for you - I'm sorry.  I just spent all my life running from this and then when you said all those things at the family reunion  from the ghosts of our families I wanted to stay but your mother just kept pushing me away.  I wanted custody but back in the 1960's they never would have given it to me.  I'm so sorry, baby, I really am."   For the second time in my life - I saw my father cry.

We sat in the car and looked out the window not saying anything.  At least my father had come clean but all those years felt wasted and I didn't know what to say.  "Sophia, I want you to know I will always be there for you- believe it or not - I always have.  I talked to Etta about using her knowledge of the occult to help you.  I also asked Granddaddy to mentor you as well.  I wanted you have people and entities around who could help and protect you when I was not around - the way I wished someone would have helped me.  The rock salt circle was protection from the bad things - that's how I want you to see me.  I love you baby girl more than I can say.  Please forgive me." 

I wanted to say something about how I felt like he was not around enough, that I felt abandoned when he started his new family, that I needed to know about all this sooner.  But he was telling me now and that meant something.  If I've learned anything from all the ghosts I've encountered  - it was that having regrets in life were not easily released in death and I didn't want that for him or me.  "l love you too Daddy and I always will."   I leaned over and gave him a big hug and he held me close just like that time I was six and he carried me up the stairs after the reunion.   

Daddy started the car and we got back on the highway - the road to college and my soon to be adult life.  I wasn't sure what the future held but I knew one thing for certain - my Dad would always have my back.