The Ghosts of Miller's Crossing Read online

  “Well, guys, this is where your dad lived when he was a little boy,” he announced.

  Sarah and Jacob explored the family room, inspecting everything. While Edward couldn’t get over how everything was as he remembered it, his kids struggled to see past the layers and layers of dust that had built up over the years. Edward saw Sarah drawing a very distinct line in the layer while running her finger along one of the shelves.

  “So, it needs a little cleaning. This will be great, guys. Some of my happiest memories happened right here on this farm.” Edward ignored the customary teenage rolling of the eyes. “Let me show you guys around.”

  5

  It was a long day of cleaning and unloading the van for Edward and his children, but finally, it was done and time for everyone to settle down and relax before falling to sleep. Edward had a feeling the sleep part would come much faster than they expected. When they stopped to eat some dinner, Jacob nearly fell asleep at the table. Edward wanted to make sure the kids were all set before the end of the day. Something about living out of a box always felt unsettling him, and he didn’t want them to have to feel that way, even for a night. To his satisfaction, he achieved his goal. Sarah was set up in his father’s old office, which was larger than his old bedroom. Jacob jumped at the chance to take his dad’s old room. It had what he called a “neat window” in it. The neat window was a tiny alcove created by a dormer on the front side of the house. Edward always liked that spot too. As a kid he sat on that ledge and watched for his dad to come home from work.

  Edward’s back felt the strain of unloading all the kids’ furniture and boxes. He rubbed it as he walked up the stairs to his room for some much-needed rest. It seemed simple enough, but entering his parents’ room proved more difficult than he expected. He had stacked a few boxes of his personal belongings in the hallway, but nothing had made it inside yet. He stood at the door for a few moments and tried to gather up the nerve to even open it, something he had not done yet. The room was their sanctuary. His mind struggled with accepting his role as head of the household in this home. With a mind too tired to battle psychological ghosts, he conceded there was always tomorrow and headed downstairs to the old comfy sofa in the family room. The same one he spent many a Saturday morning lounging on while watching cartoons.

  He attempted to get comfortable but faced a realization: either the sofa has gotten smaller or he was bigger. He used to be able to lay the entire length of his body on the sofa with room to spare; now his feet hung off, unless he laid on his side in a partial fetal position. He grabbed the remote off the table next to the sofa and turned on the flat screen TV they’d placed on top of the old console model. He fiddled through the channels for a few moments. Unable to find anything, he finally just let it land on whatever channel it was on when he grew tired of changing it. It didn’t matter, though. He watched it for no more than a few moments before falling asleep like he did so many times as a child. Unlike when he was a child, three shimmering figures loomed over him. Edward was too tired to notice. He pulled the blanket up in response to the chill.

  When he woke up, there was an infomercial grinding in the background. He reached blindly toward the floor searching for the remote, which he found, and clicked it off. He had every intention of falling back to sleep in the silence, but he didn’t find the silence he hoped for. At first, he thought the sound came from one of the kids’ televisions. He pulled the blanket up and rolled over, but after a few minutes he sat up and listened intently. His ears were hearing something real and close by. It was the unmistakable sound of a human voice, and not just one, but several of them, and they were outside.

  He reached to the table beside him and disconnected his cell phone from the charger. A quick glance at the time revealed it was only two a.m. Now the sounds of people outside might be odd, but not unheard of in the city. But not here, and not on the old family farm out in the middle of nowhere. The thought of kids using their vacant lot for an innocent adolescent late-night hangout made some sense to Edward. The house had been vacant for so long and no one knew they have moved in. A simple warning and request that they move along should end the party.

  He opened the door expecting to see a few pickups and cars on the property, but instead, he saw nothing. The voices sounded distant, but Edward couldn’t tell from which direction. He stepped off the porch and walked around the house and looked out at the empty pastures. It was a cool night, a touch of fog hanging above the ground. It felt rather refreshing compared to the oppressive heat of the summer day. A chill shot down the back of his neck, followed by the appearance of a few drops of cold sweat and tingly nerves. Edward recognized this feeling and thought, Not now please as he continued to search for the source of the sounds.

  He searched for several minutes, but didn’t see anything, Edward was about to give up when he noticed a quick glint of light flash toward him from the southeast corner of his property. He walked toward that area, not taking his eyes off that spot the entire way. He thought about running in that direction to try and scare whoever it was away, but decided to be cautious until he saw who was there.

  It took Edward several minutes to get close enough to see anything. With each flash of light he saw, Edward stopped to observe for a few seconds before he started creeping forward again. Soon, though, he saw the source of the light, as multiple forms holding flashlights came into view. It appeared to be several people in a line. They walked at a casual but determined pace with their lights focused on something straight in front of them. Edward froze dead in his tracks. About fifty feet in front of the line of people, he saw them. They were there but not at the same time. They had a human shape and form, but solid black, lifeless eyes. They never touched the ground. The scene was all too familiar to Edward. He crouched down among the tall grass and watched.

  They stayed well in front of the line of people behind them. The line yelled at them like cowboys driving cattle on a ranch. Only a few of the pursuers yelled. Each exclamation put down the protests of the two ghastly floating creatures, who complied and moved forward toward the tree line at the edge of his property.

  They faded in and out as they moved through the empty field. Both appeared to be male and dressed in pants and a shirt of some type. One appeared to be holding something. He occasionally brandished it like a weapon above his head. Each time he did, one from the line behind them stepped forward, held up something small in his hands, and admonished him.

  The pace of the two glowing creatures slowed down. This allowed those following to close the gap, but from Edward’s vantage point this appeared to be intentional. They slowed and turned slightly, instead of heading straight forward, and eventually stopped altogether. They held their position, flickering in and out of visibility inside a very light patch of fog. The largest vision glared back over his shoulder at the individuals following them, and let out a protest that sent a chill through Edward’s essence. The sound was not a scream or a yell, more primal and otherworldly, and created a tremble of fear in Edward’s hands to go along with the chill.

  The line of pursuers stopped, which appeared to only embolden both creatures. The second one turned around completely, pointed at them, and bellowed an inhuman scream. Edward’s pulse quickened as he felt a terror grow in him. A terror similar to what he felt that first time in the hallway so many years ago.

  The man stepped forward again. This time in the moonlight, Edward saw he was an older man, dressed in all black. Edward leaned forward slightly in a feeble attempt to see what he held, but the distance was too great, and he didn’t dare to move any closer. The mysterious man in black spoke to the creatures in a voice that pierced the cool night air. “Let God arise and let His enemies be scattered, and let them that hate Him flee from before His Face!”

  Both wailed wildly again, this time louder than before. The man in black was unfazed and continued to preach at them. “O’ Most Glorious Prince of the Heavenly Armies, St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in the battle and in our wr
estling against principalities and powers against the rulers of the world of this darkness…”

  They reacted as though a great force had pushed against them. Each held up their hands to shield themselves. They turned without a sound and continued toward the wood line, with the man in black following them, continuing his recitation. The line followed close behind as if to ensure they continued heading toward their destination, wherever that might be.

  The duo and the glowing flashlights of those following them disappeared among the dense woods that surrounded Edward’s family farm, leaving him standing in the damp cool night, confused and terrified, with the sounds of crickets replacing the voices and wails that had filled the air. He stood there for a few moments more, listening and watching for any signs of them before he turned and took several terrifying steps back toward the house, looking back at the woods over his shoulder with every sound he heard.

  Back in his house, Edward securely closed the front door and double checked each lock. He settled back onto the sofa and turned on the TV. Edward made no attempt to lay down, instead, he sat there thinking about what he saw over and over. The sounds of the night stayed firmly stuck in his head. There would be no sleeping for Edward for the rest of the night.

  6

  The alarm on Edward’s phone went off at 6:30 the next morning, but he didn’t need it, he was awake. Of all times to deal with only a few hours of sleep, his first day at work was the worst possible day. Not feeling the caffeine of his second cup of coffee kicking in, Edward headed upstairs. He hoped a hot shower would help.

  As Edward crested the top of the stairs, he heard the bathroom door close. One of the kids beat him to it. Now all the soap and shampoo in the house was behind a closed door. He was forced to stand there and wait. Following the sound of a flush, Sarah opened the door and sleepwalked past him. Edward was unsure if all the commotion outside woke her up at some point last night, or if this was the normal teenage state for this time of the morning, so he inquired, “Sarah, did you have any problems sleeping last night? Did you hear anything?”

  She never even stopped, just yawned as she closed her door. He muttered to himself, “Teenagers.”

  After his shower, he felt more human than he did before, but he still couldn’t shake the sights and sounds of the previous night. Edward mostly kept things to himself. He spent some time in college trying to research the meaning and cause of his visions, even going as far as talking to a parapsychologist once. He realized there were two schools of thought: those that didn’t believe in the ability to see spirits or visions of people like that, and those that did. Each person that believed in the ability had a different theory around why. None of the theories had anything scientific backing them. Several of them theorized that a person could see the spirit or afterimage of a person they had a connection with before their death. This is the one theory Edward could dismiss without question. Over the years, the only images he’d had a prior connection with were his parents and his wife, the other thousands were just random strangers. The remaining theories, the several dozen he read about, all differed from a connection to a location, to a spiritual time vortex—which Edward could never understand—to just a random combination of events, which to him seemed more likely. What Edward knew for sure was that what he saw last night was real and not some sort of a hallucination, and at least one other person saw them too. Now, what to do with that knowledge?

  That would have to wait, though. He needed to focus on his first day at work. Ready to head out the door, he poked his head into Sarah’s room to give her some instructions for the day. “Are you awake?”

  She did not respond, so he repeated the question, louder this time, “I am heading to work. Are you awake?”

  There was a single groan from the direction of the mass of covers clumped on her bed.

  “Remember to make sure Jacob eats breakfast and see if you guys can do more unpacking. I want to get these boxes out of here. I should be home just after three or so, OK?” He waited for a response, which finally came in the form of a single hand thrust out of the covers giving a thumbs up and then a quick wave goodbye.

  He closed her door, knowing they would both be asleep until ten o’clock, and headed out. The drive to work brought back tons of memories, just like the drive in. Of course, the difference was now he was driving, and, in his memories, he was a passenger sitting next to one of his parents. Edward’s thoughts distracted him so much he nearly missed the turn into the high school, another place he had been many times before. For the first time though, he took a slight veer to the right into the faculty parking lot. Once parked, he sat there for a few moments in his quiet car before heading in. He needed to clear his mind.

  Walking up the front walk, he realized he had never been inside the high school before. Plenty of trips to the football stadium with his parents, but never inside, so this really was a first for him. He followed the signs that directed him to the office, feeling a tad nervous about meeting with the principal, a something he found no one ever shook from their days as a student.

  Edward walked into the office as two other teachers exited. They greeted him with a friendly good morning as they passed by him. To him, it felt rather welcoming, and it helped to calm his first-day nerves. So much so that he felt rather confident as he walked up to the counter that separated the office into the traditional two halves, student and faculty. He waited there for a few seconds before a woman on the other side of the counter acknowledged him. Picture frames of various sizes covered her desk. She turned and flashed him a big smile across her cherub face and, in the most welcoming and sweetest voice, asked, “Can I help you, sir?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Edward never stopped addressing people with the polite ma’am, miss, missus, or mister no matter what his or their age. “I am Edward Meyer. I am here to see Principal Stephens.”

  “Oh, the new English teacher. Welcome.” She grabbed a stack of folders and a brown envelope from her desk and brought them over to the counter. She told Edward what was inside each as she slid them across the countertop to him. “Here is your class schedule and rosters, and of course your key. Robert is yelling at the painters in the gym; they were supposed to have the gym floor completed before today. He will be back shortly. Just have a seat. Oh, and welcome.” She motioned toward a few chairs lined against the wall on his side of the counter.

  Edward took a seat and looked through his schedule and class roster. He’d have five English classes each day, and it looked like each class would have just under thirty students, both a surprise and a relief. Where he taught in the past, the class sizes approached forty, and one year he had forty-three in one class. In his opinion, a class of that size hindered his abilities as a teacher and limited open class discussion and the learning of the students.

  A single unfamiliar voice shot through the constant ringing of phones and chatter of people coming in and out. “Eddie?”

  Edward scanned the room for the source of the voice. Having no idea what Principal Stephens looked like, and assuming no one would recognize him, he assumed that was who called him; even though he never called him Eddie during any of their prior conversations. As Edward stood up, he extended the hand toward the middle-aged man who stood before him with a big smile on his bearded face. “It is great to meet you, Principal Stephens.”

  A full-bodied laugh met his introduction. Edward felt a lump form in his stomach.

  “Now that is a good one. I am not Robert. You don’t recognize me?”

  Edward studied his face. “I’m sorry, but not really.”

  “I’m Mark Grier. We were in the same class from kindergarten until you left in the second grade. We were even on the same baseball team twice. I heard you were coming back to Miller’s Crossing. I wasn’t sure I could recognize you, but with how much you look like your dad, it was easy.” Mark looked at the woman behind the counter and asked, “Ms. Adams, you remember Eddie Meyer, don’t you?”

  She looked up from her computer monit
or and for a brief second looked like she had seen a ghost. It was a face that Edward had seen himself make in the mirror a few times. The color returned to her face as a smile grew. “Oh, wow. I didn’t even recognize you. I can’t believe you’re so grown up. I remember when you and Mark both came in and were registered for your first day of school. Welcome home, Eddie.”

  Edward examined her closer and a brief memory crossed his eyes: the older woman now standing behind the counter was the same young woman that basically ran the elementary school while he was there. “Ms. Adams?”

  “Yes, Eddie. It’s me.”

  “I am so sorry. I didn’t recognize you either. When did you leave the elementary school?”

  “It’s OK, Eddie. I guess I should call you Mr. Meyer now since you are a teacher. I came over here some twenty years ago when the position opened up. I needed a change of scenery, so I drove the three hundred feet down the road for that change.” She gave him a wry smile that matched the dry humor of her statement, one of the traits he remembered about her.

  Mark asked, “So, Eddie, where is your classroom?”

  “I’m not sure yet.” Which was true, Edward still hasn’t opened the envelope with his key in it.

  Ms. Adams remembered, though. “He is in 343, just down the hall from you, Mr. Grier.” She pushed her glasses down to the tip of her nose and looked at them with a sinister look. “This isn’t going to be a mistake, is it? I seem to remember you two getting into a lot of trouble together when you were younger.”