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.   

  

Dial M for Christmas

   “Hello Bedford Falls…Merry Christmas you wonderful old Building and Loan,” George Bailey shouted after he got to see what the world would be like without him.  I rolled my eyes and sucked back another beer.  The movies always made miracles look so easy and humans always seemed understand their own need for redemption.  But that was the movies - in my experience you could save someone’s ass any number of times and they still won’t get it.  Sure, they’d be grateful at first but then the further away they got from their miracle the more likely they were to revert back to their old ways.

     So there I was in Martini’s, an actual bar on the edge of Dawsonville - a small town in Georgia feeling like my own exile would never end.  It had been decades since I had been banished and my task seemed just as impossible as it had been on day one. Sure - I had captured hundreds of misguided souls and sent them back to where they needed to go - but there were still hundreds if not thousands that needed to be captured and no end in sight. 

    “Look Jack, it’s not the end of the world — besides we don’t know if they have turned us down completely - they just needed a few days to look at our audition video -“ I heard a guy next to me talk to his friend - trying to cheer him up.  
    “It’s just that we have worked so hard to be para-normal investigators and now they’re thinking we need a medium to make the show work,” replied his friend who looked deeply depressed. 

   Their conversation caught my attention.  Para-normal investigators usually meant ghost hunters - something that might actually be of use to me. 
    “Dave, I just feel like I’m at the end of my rope.  If this doesn’t pan out - I don’t know what I’ll do.”  Jack sucked back the rest of his drink and just looked down.  “I’ve never really been good at anything else - I mean all my life I’ve wanted to do this and now we’re so close and they want to throw some new angle in - we should be able to stand on our own.” 

    I looked at this guy Jack and wondered at his despair.  My cross to bare was having to a Herculean task of finding the ghosts I had accidentally let out over 60 years ago and sending them back to either heaven or hell. Once all those spirits were back where they needed to be - I would be allowed back into heaven.  At this rate - it would be another 60 years before I could go back and frankly I was tired of humans and their willful ignorance. Their need to show they were smarter than God and then failing miserably made me laugh and extremely pissed at the same time.  But maybe these guys might be able to speed up the process and the idea that they’d have a medium to help would make things a little easier on me and my charge Keith. 

    Keith was unfortunately a victim of circumstance that fateful day when all hell literally broke loose and died basically for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.  I was his guardian angel and I let him down because I got distracted by a she-devil piece of ass named Lilith. So God decided that he would be my motivation to make things right so neither one of us would be allowed back into heaven until all the ghosts and demons that had escaped were no longer able to wreak havoc on the earth plane.  

     I regarded these two guys and wondered if an unsaid partnership could be created.  I might be able to point them in the right direction metaphysically and they could banish the spirits I needed to get rid of.  For some reason - humans can do it faster and easier than those of use on the ethereal side of the equation.  Just as pondered my next step - I heard the familiar ping of a text message hit one of their cell phones.   Dave read the text and his face looked serious. 
    “What is it?” asked Jack.  “They got turned down by both John Edward and Theresa Cupato - the Long Island Medium - so they might have to shelve the project altogether.” 
     “That is f*cking bullsh*t man - I’m outta here.”  Jack stormed out of Martini’s with Dave trying to get past the Christmas Eve party that had just arrived. He got into his old Toyota pick-up truck and spun out of the parking lot.   Dave got outside just in time to see Jack peel out.

     “Sh*t, did they have do to this on Christmas Eve?” Dave said under his breath. 

     I could see a soul in crisis and headed after him.  My boss was pretty explicit about preventing folks from offing themselves on his son’s birthday.  Jack was distraught and driving really fast.  Just then Keith appeared next to me.  
      “What the hell are you doing?” he asked.  
      “I’m trying to prevent this guy from f*cking his life up beyond repair,” I responded.  There was a big sign up front that said - “Dead End.” 
     Jack sped up to hit the sign since he felt that he had hit a dead end.  I jumped up in front of the sign. Jack saw me just in time to swerve into the ditch.   He split his lip and his truck was dented but other than that he was unhurt.  He got out of the passenger side of the truck and started to yell at me as a little trickle of blood started down the front of his mouth. 
   “What the hell was that dude?  I almost killed you.”      “Better that than killing yourself over a stupid ghost hunting show - now that is f*cked up,” I responded.  Jack jumped back.  “Wait, you’re the guy at the bar- how did you get out here and how did you know about -“  I smiled and waited to see if it would dawn on him who I was.  

     Keith appeared next to me.  “Nice work with the sign Em.”   He looked a little closer and his eyes got big. 
       “Hey I know this guy -“ Keith started to move closer to Jack who could see Keith clearly and started to back away. 
       “Okay, a**hole - you might have wrecked my truck and you’ve haunted my dreams but this is where it stops,” Jack said defiantly.  
     I looked at Keith.  “You’ve been haunting this guy?  I thought we talked about that.” I admonished. 
       “It was once when he was a little kid and acting like a total ass wipe.  I tried to set him straight - but not sure it did much good,” he replied. 
      “Wait, was he the little piss ant in the theater trying to find ghosts after his mother died?” I asked as Keith winced. 
     “Not one of my proudest moments.  As for the dreams - that’s on him. I haven’t been around in a long time. Since his Nana - “ Jack just looked at us - his eyes trying to take it all in.  
      “How do you know all this - about my mother, Nana, the theater?” 

       "Jack - who do think I am?  Just in your professional experience - who on earth could I be?” I asked. 
      “A medium?” he asked hopefully thinking I might be someone he could work with. 
     “Sweet suffering Jesus, do you believe this guy?” asked Keith. 
     “No, Jack - I’m an angel-“ Jack took a second to look at the both of us.  He shook his head and then looked up hopefully. 
     “Dude, is your name Clarence?” he asked hopefully with visions of Jimmy Stewart dancing in his head. 
     “No, it’s Em,” I replied.  
     “Uh, okay, I guess that’s okay. But if you’re an angel – did you pick up on the fact that this guy is f*cking evil?” He pointed to Keith who was starting to get extremely annoyed. 
     “I am not f*cking evil you little sh*thead-“ Keith shouted back. “Let me show you how misinformed you are.”  Keith touched both our hands and I saw Jack as he was in middle school in the 1990's

- still cocky but more like a child than a man.  He still had his steely determination but as a more nerdy, gangly teenage body.  He looked frustrated that none of the ghosts were responding to him so he could prove to his friends that he was a ghostbuster. 
   “Hey, ghosts, I’m not afraid and I demand that you show yourself or make some noise!”  But there was nothing.  “Do you hear me?  I demand you show yourself!”  
     Just then, Keith appeared ready to scare the sh*t out of this little a**hole.  
“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 banshee –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.”  What pre-teen Jack did not see was that there was a demon crouched behind some theater seats - a gargoyle type of devil that could drag him to hell.  Keith let go of our hands and we were back at the side of the road - the ghostly illusion was over.

     "What?  Wait?  There was a demon there?”   
     “Yeah, I’m not a total dick," Keith replied. "I was trying to save you from being damned.  Em and I cornered that demon and sent it hell that night.  We saved you.  If your mother thought for one moment that I would allow any harm to come to you –“  
     Jack’s eyes started to soften. “You mentioned my mother like you knew her.  Have you seen my mother? I mean since she died. She was already gone when that happened -” Jack asked hopefully. 

     Keith then backed off quickly which was uncharacteristic of him.  I wondered what was up.  Despite what you might think - being an angel does not make me all knowing.  There was something going on that Keith was not telling me.  

     Jack started to look down and sighed heavily.  “Yeah my Mom, she’d still be alive today if it wasn’t for me.  She came back in that snow storm to get me from my father and died in a car crash on the way.  1996 was the last Christmas I spent with her - I was 14 years old.  My father was tough to live with because of Vietnam.  They had been high school sweethearts.  She stayed in a bad marriage and sacrificed everything for me. I can never repay her or talk to her. I’ve tried to contact her. I have.  Maybe if I hadn’t been born she would still be here - maybe married to Ben Jensen where she could be happy and alive rather than tied down to a miserable drunk like my dad because of me.” 

       “Hey, that’s bullsh*t - you don’t know that -“I responded and then some divine intervention took place – Frank Capra style.  “Okay, let’s take a stroll down memory lane. I’ll let you see your past as it really was and then I’ll grant your wish and you can see what things would be like if you had never been born.”   
     Keith just rolled his eyes and quipped, “Why don’t you just offer him a Red Rider BB gun so he can shoot his eye out or just leave him Home Alone?  Those movies I like!”  I got his drift but sometimes films can move people faster than scripture.

I touched Jack's shoulder and he was transported to when his father was 17 in 1973. Tom Bronson was getting ready to go off to Vietnam.  Jack saw his father going off to war with a buzz cut and a sad expression. The teen version of his mother kissed her boyfriend passionately and tried not to make a scene.  She petrified that this would be the last time she would see Tom alive.  Nana was there too - hugging her son and telling him how proud his father would be of him.  As Nana and his mother watched the plane goes off - they hugged each other.   Angela whispered a prayer that Tom would come back and they would have a child who would be the best parts of both of them. Keith looked down - touched by that moment and the feeling like it was too personal for all of us to watch. 

     I touched Jack’s hand and he got to see the day he was born.  We went into a small hospital room.  His mother looked radiant if exhausted holding her newborn son.  His dad beamed with pride and Nana was in the room - just bursting with joy.  Jack had never seen any of them so happy.  His mother was kissing the top of his head and his father asked to hold him.  He took his son in his arms as the most amazing being he had ever seen.  His hair was long and tied back in a pony tail and he had a beard. It was 1982 and at that point Ted Bronson was a bit of a hippie. Jack had no idea his father ever looked like that.  Baby Jack grabbed his father’s finger and Tom laughed in a way that Jack had never seen.  He gently danced around the room with his infant son - rocking, swaying and grinning from ear to ear.  He then broke out in a loud and awesome rendition of the Beatles Birthday to the delight of his wife, mother, medical staff and the new baby.  After about 10 minutes - Nana asked to hold him and she rocked him slowly and sang a more traditional Rock-a-bye Baby.  His father kissed his mother as she nursed her son.  Jack looked at me and took it all in.  His birth was a glorious moment in all their lives. 

    The scene shifted to Nana and Angela at the park with Jack as two years old - running around and laughing.  Angela and Nana seemed to be close - having a picnic.  They took turns pushing Jack on a swing.   Each time the swing curved towards the clouds - the toddler squealed with delight. 

    Later, Angela, toddler Jack and Nana went to at the firehouse with a turkey dinner for Tom and his co-workers. It was Thanksgiving and the crew hosted their families with the hope that the fire alarm would not ring.  Tom saw his family and smiled but his eyes were different - they looked older than his 28 years and certainly not like the eyes of the man in the delivery room. Angela handed Jack to Nana and ran to hug her husband.  He hugged her back but more out of desperation than love. He had abandoned his hopes of becoming a writer who spoke out about the war and it's impact on those that survived the horrors.  He decided to become a fire fighter because it paid well and had benefits.  He was making good money to support the family but too often battling fires flashed him back ten years earlier when he was putting out fires in Saigon before it fell in 1975.  Tom could put on a game face with his colleagues but at home he would drink and barely engage with the people around him including his son. So when he took the boy into his arms, Jack started to squirm sensing his father's unease.  
      Angela took him into her arms - “Just give him time." Tom looked more defeated as they looked at families that having a great time together.  Angela and Nana put on a smile as did Tom but it was forced and not natural.  Toddler Jack ran to a group of children who were playing Twister. 

      Jack looked at  me.  “Don’t tell me - I never really get close to him, do I?"
      “No, but then he didn’t really have it in him to engage you.  He spent his time    off sitting on the couch and looking at the TV.  He was drinking heavily - regretting his service in Vietnam and the things he’d seen.  But did you know he was a 
hero?  He saved 10 men including his sergeant who later became Mayor 
Jenkins. Your dad was given a purple heart for bravery.  He sacrificed his youth and 
optimism in that war –many men did and they were never the same.  I’m not 
making excuses for him because I know he made you feel like sh*t as a kid but maybe understanding that he saw people blown to bits. Friends alive one minute 
and gone in an instant. It takes   a toll.  And then when the soldiers came back – unlike the WWII vets – they were social pariahs no one wanted to be reminded 
that these guys were in an unwinnable war.  They didn’t get the help they needed – called Baby killers – spit on.  Nana and Angela tried to get him help but he was 
too proud to accept it. He was able to block so much of it out but when he started 
as a Fire Fighter, so much if it came flooding back.  For him and so many of the young men who left their youth and idealism in that faraway land, the music and the poetry stopped."
      “Jesus Christ - I never thought of it like that – my poor Dad.” 
       “But your Mom's prayer was answered: you do have the best parts of both 
of them in you. There were times you were brave for others,” Keith said.  He 
touched our hands took us to a middle school hallway between classes.  A couple 
of boys were teasing another boy and pushing him around. 
       “Hey that’s Dave, the day I met him,” Jack responded.  
       “C’mon, you gonna cry – why you crying you little faggot?” taunted Bruce Dane.  
        “Hey – why don’t you just leave him alone Bruce,” said a teenage 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 today – he’s had enough.” 
         “MeMa – what is he – a baby?  I’ll decide when he’s had enough,” Bruce said. 
          A circle of kids had gathered around watching and not doing anything to intervene.
        “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.  Teen 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.  At this point, Bruce was bleeding from his nose and doubled over.  Just then Mr. Albury, the Vice Principle broke up the fight. 
    “Okay – Bruce you need to let these two alon-“,  he stopped suddenly when he saw it was Bruce who was bruised and hurting and not the other way around.  
     “Okay kids – get to your classes!“ the VP barked but the crowd was murmuring “Cool- Bruce finally got his a** kicked!” 
     “You two" he said pointed to Jack and Dave, "My office and Bruce, you go the clinic – NOW!!”  
      Dave leaned into Jack, “Thanks for having my back – my name is Dave by the way.” 
       “I know – I’m Jack and I’m sorry about your grandmother – it sucks. I lost mine six months ago.  My mom a year before that,”  Teen Jack was trying to keep a brave front but these deaths were starting to suck the life out of him.             Dave looked at him – “I’m so sorry about your losses.”  He paused and added – “I’ve never had anyone stand up for me like that – thanks!” 

        As Jack and Dave sat in Mr. Albury’s office, they could hear Bruce whimpering in the clinic every time the nurse tried to stop his nose from bleeding.  
       “I want these two expelled for attack on my child – Albury!”  shouted Bruce’s dad who was on the city council. His face with pudgy like his son's with angry red blotches all over his face right up to his receding hairline.
      “Serves him right – with all the bloody noses he’s given,” retorted Mr. A.            “Besides – I have witnesses that say that it all started with Bruce teasing Dave here and accusing him of being a homosexual.  The poor kid found out this morning that his grandmother died and started to cry at his locker-“ 
       “This is stupid,” teen Jack blurted out.  “Bruce is a liar, a cheat and a bully – I gave him what he had coming.” 
       "Fine words coming from the son of the town drunk!” Ben Dane shot back.         “Enough from the both of you!” declared Mr. A. 
      “Jack you should not have punched him.  You are not getting expelled but you both get three days of detention starting tomorrow.” 
      “That’s not fair! Dave didn’t do anything. He’d be beaten up if I hadn’t stepped in,” Jack said defending his action.  Mr. Dane at least got some satisfaction that they were being punished. The group caught sight of Bruce who had Q-Tips coming out of his nose and tears running down his face.
      “Get your ass in the car – you look ridiculous –“ said Mr. Dane who pulled the tips out of Bruce’s nose as they walked down the hallway.

       “Now boys, your detention will be in the Media center – helping to catalog video and how to work the equipment,” he winked at Dave and Jack who smiled back. 

      “That afternoon was the beginning of your friendship with Dave- a guy who brought you into his family and gave you a place to belong after all the upheaval in your life,” said Keith.  
      “So far it looks like a pretty good life – you have your work, a best friend whose is more than a brother.  Sure your childhood was tough and you had losses but you had people who loved you even if they didn’t stay in your life forever,” I explained as I tried to put it all in perspective. 
       “Yeah, but at this point in my life – would anyone miss me?  I have no wife, no kids, no job that really means anything other than some camera work from time to time.  Nothing would change whether I was here or not. I just don’t matter.”
      "You matter – everyone does – we just lose sight of it from time to time.  We let bullsh*t bring us down – but if you could just see all that you’ve done – the people you’ve helped,” I replied honestly because he was just too down on himself to get it.  

       I touched his hand and we saw his mother in 1985 walking out of their house with a suitcase crying. 
      “What’s wrong with my Mom?” asked Jack. 
       "Your father died a few days ago from a drug overdose – heroin"  I replied sadly
        “Wait – what?!  But my father is still alive!” 
        “No,” I continued, “You see without you – he didn’t feel the responsibility have to support his family.  He and your mother fought constantly.  He developed a bad drug habit and it finally killed him leaving your mother heartbroken.” 

       Keith watched this play out and didn’t say anything.  As Angela was closing the door to her house, Ben Dane, Bruce’s dad drove up. He was a younger version of himself, not balding and had a convertible.  He got out and slowly walked up to the front stoop. 
      “Hey Angela – so sorry about Ted – I just don’t know what to say.”  Angela just stared blankly – her life seemed to be in ruins. 
      “You can stay with me and Jennie until you get on your feet.” 
       “Are you sure she doesn’t mind?  I know I won’t be good company and you all with little Bruce-" Angela protested but Ben took her bag and they got in the car and drove off. 

     The scene shifted to ten years later, Ben had left his wife Jennie and had married Angela who was tasked with bringing up Bruce.  They saw her cleaning up the kitchen when 12 year old Bruce arrived home from school.             “Hey Bruce – I made you some cookies – how was your day?” Angela asked innocently enough trying to make conversation but you could feel the tension in the room. 
     “Jesus Christ, Angela, stop trying to play the happy homemaker okay?!  You’re not my mother!”  Bruce stormed up to his room and took a few cookies.       With his mouth full he yelled down the stairs," Jesus woman – next time use more vanilla!” 
     “What an ungrateful little a**hole!” Jack responded wishing he could be there to talk to his mother who was now crying at the sink.  His mom had a beautiful house, nice clothes and there were pictures of European vacations but the smiles were forced.  
     She started the chicken casserole when Ben called and said he would be working late at the office which Angela knew was code for "I'm banging my secretary, don't wait up."  She put down the phone and began to sob. She didn’t have the vigor or sense of fun that Jack had known, even with his Dad’s drinking she always would make it a point of making jokes or saving some money so that they could go to the movies. 

      I touched Jack’s hand and there was the familiar rush of middle school kids running to make it to their next class.  He saw Dave standing at his locker trying not to be noticed and getting his science book. Bruce kicked him as he walked 
      “Hey faggot – I told you to stay away from here– you can’t follow directions can you sh*thead?!”  Dave just looked down and didn’t say anything. 

“What was that you loser?  Are you threatening me?”  
      Dave mumbled, “No-“ but it didn’t matter – Bruce started to beat the crap out of him.  The kids getting to their class pretended like they couldn’t see it and Mr. Albury just turned a blind eye. 

      “Why isn’t anyone helping him?” Jack asked helplessly. 

       “There was no one to stop to Bruce or stand-up for Dave so he’d routinely get the crapped kicked out of him until he decided to become one of Bruce’s minyans,” said Keith sadly. 

      “Wait, what?  said Jack.  “Dave was the only boy in a family with sisters and never really developed a bond like he had with you.  Bruce was the closest he had to a friend and over the years it warped him.  This is what he’s like now –" and with that I touched Jack’s hand and saw Dave in an alleyway pushing  another man up against a wall. 

       "Look – my boss doesn’t take to being lied to so you need to get the money together by tomorrow or you have a choice: either we break your knee caps or we break your hands. Merry Christmas.”  Dave shoved the man harder against the wall and he began to whimper. Jack instinctively jumped into the alley and tried to help free the man. 
      “Hey Dave – let up on the guy.  Why are you like this - what the hell happened to you?”  
      “This doesn’t concern you - just move along – and you won’t get hurt.”
      “Please help me – my wife is pregnant and our toddler is sick – “ the man begged. 
      “You should have thought of that before you borrowed the money –,” 
       Dave looked at Jack – “I don’t know who you are or how you know my name but you need to get the hell out of here – before I kick your ass as well.“
      “Make me –“ Jack replied like they were in middle school.  When Dave turned to Jack, the man saw his chance and ran away. 
    “Sh*t – that will cost you”  Dave started to come at Jack who could not believe his friend would try to hurt him, but then this was not his friend – it was a mutation from another time.  Jack ducked and landed a right hook on Dave’s jaw and knocked him out cold. 

   Jack started to run through the streets of his town but they were cold and dark, not the family homes with big lawns that Jack was used to seeing. There was no Art in the Park, there was no park, nice condos – only apartments that looked more like slums. 

“Where the hell am I?” Jack asked as he looked for a familiar landmark.  His town seemed dark and seedy.  There was not optimism.  
       "Bruce Dane took over his father's business because you were not there to challenge him to bring him down," I explained.  "He became mayor and this is the result: a town full of slums and crime."  Jack looked around shaking his head. “Would you like to see what your mother would be like today in this reality if she had lived?”  

      “Yes,” Jack said with uncertainty.  

      I touched his hand and we landed in a nursing home.  There was a group of older people sitting in a large room just looking into space.  He recognized his mother’s face – which was now lined and her skin looked sallow.  Her eyes were sunken with deep circles that looked like she had spent so much time alone and crying.  Jack ran to her and put his arms around her.
       “Mom – I’m so sorry about this – about everything!”  
       Angela looked up and said, “Bruce is that you?  Did you and your father decide to let me out of here. I promise to stop crying. I’ll be better. I won’t embarrass you.”  Jack hugged her tighter.

     “No it’s me, your real son, Jack. Remember Ted? You had me with him. He tried to love us. He just didn’t always know how.  I love you Mom and I miss you every day – please say you know me.” Jack and Angela were both crying but as much as he looked her into her eyes, she just didn’t know who he was.   A nurse entered the great room and saw him holding the old woman.
      “Hey you, get away from the Mayor Dane’s mother!”  She called for security on the intercom and Jack found himself being chased down a hall way with two very overweight security guards barely able to keep up.  He ran out of a backdoor only to have a police car start to follow him and demand that he stop. His heart beating faster than ever, he ran as fast as he could to the place where his car had skidded into the ditch.  
    “Em, please – let me get my life back – please I can’t take another minute of this – please God – let me live again.” 

      A set of headlights caught Jack and nearly blinded him.  A male figure started to run toward him. 
      “Get the hell out of here Dave before I cold-cock you again – I don’t give a sh*t who you work for - “  
     “What the hell are you talking about Jack? I came to see if you were okay.  What happened to your truck?”  Jack looked at Dave.  His face looked concerned but was still the face of the man he had grown up with, the face of his best friend.  
    Jack started to yell, “Dave it’s really you – I’m back – I’m back where I belong!” He grabbed Dave and started to hug him. 
   “Jesus – Jack how much did you have to drink? Hey, why don’t we call AAA and get your car towed okay?”  As they waited beside the ditch for Jack’s the towing service, Dave took a phone call.  Jack noticed me standing by his truck and motioned for me to come over. 
     “I’m glad you decided to remain in this world – a world that obviously needs you – but don’t let it go to your head.” 
      Jack laughed, “I’ll try not to,” and then he got quiet – “But my Mom – she was so sad.“ I took a breath and chose my words carefully.  
      “Jack without you – your parents would not have known true happiness – even if those moments were fleeting.  Even when bad things happen - those happy times are still there and can never be taken away.  You’ve seen your mother living into her sixties – but was she ever really happy?  Would you prefer you mother to be a vibrant woman who got to experience true love and then die at 34 trying to get back to the person she loved the most or to never have experienced that at all and live an empty existence?  Her life in the alternate world may have been longer – but it was not happier.  Please take some comfort in that and let yourself off the hook for her death.  You’ve blamed yourself for far too long.” 
      Jack nodded and felt a huge weight taken off his shoulders.  I continued,  “And for the record – don’t give up five minutes before the miracle happens.” 
     “Wow, that’s profound – is that in the bible?” asked Jack. 
      “No, I think it’s Oprah.” I smiled and faded out. 

      Dave got off the phone and walked up with a huge grin on his face. 
     “Hey buddy – guess what – that was The Supernatural Channel – they think they might have located another medium that might be worth contacting. So for right now the project is green lighted!” 
      “Holy crap – really?! – That’s great news!” Jack said realizing that he might finally have a shot at finding the success he’s always craved.  
      As he and Dave entered Martini’s they noticed Ted Bronson waiting for a place to sit at the bar.  Jack could now understand his father in a way he never had before and all the resentment he had towards him started to dissipate.  He walked over to his father who he had not talked to in months. 
      “Hey Dad, Merry Christmas.  Uh, Dave and I were going to the Silver Skillet for something to eat, can I buy you a late dinner?”  Ted looked at his son cautiously; it had been years since they had dinner together.  He came very close to refusing and spending another lonely Christmas at the bar but decided to take his son up on his offer. 

    “Sure son, I’d love to.” 

They sat down in a well-worn booth and ordered some coffee.  Dave excused himself and said that he was meeting his girlfriend for midnight Mass and offered to drive them home. 
     “No thanks, Dave – I think we can take Uber home – have a good one dude!”  Dave left the diner feeling especially optimistic about his friend.      “Did I ever tell you about the time your mother was pregnant with you and we sat in this very booth listening to Stevie Wonder on the radio and singing along – very off key I might add?” 
     “No, dad, I’d love to hear about it,” Jack replied.  Mayor Jenkins happened to spot the pair at the booth just as he was leaving with his family. 
     “Their bill is on me,” he said quietly to the waiter as he left. 

      In the back corner, I sipped on coffee as both me and Keith watched father and son share some stories and connect in a way they had done only a few times in their lives. 

     “You did good tonight Em – but if I recall correctly – aren’t there bells and you're supposed to get your wings?” asked Keith. 

      “That’s in Jimmy Stewart’s universe – not in ours.  Still we kept a guy from throwing away his life and that’s worth something.” 

      Just then Jack and his dad broke out in a chorus of “Joy to the World,” in which the entire café joined in.  Jack looked over at me and smiled. 

      “I hope your boss is watching – as birthday presents go – this one is pretty good,” said Keith. 

      “You’re right Keith, this is pretty good. Merry Christmas.” 

       “Merry Christmas, Em.”  And with that we faded out into the night as the combined voices in the café finished with “And heaven and angels sing, and heaven and angels sing, and heaven and heaven and angels sing!”