End of the Road (Ghost Stories Trilogy #1) (37 page)

Chapter Eighty

FRANK SR.

I pursued my son,
desperate to make a connection. I didn’t think my attempts at communicating
would have caused him to panic. When I was able to harness enough energy and
actually put pressure on his shoulder with my hand, he shook it off with a
grunt and twisted away. I tried again. This time his nostrils flared and his
eyes grew wide, terror creeping into his irises.

Picking up the branch was
such a normal thing that I momentarily forgot my son couldn’t see me. He only
saw a stick moving on its own through the air. I had barely finished writing,
“I’m here, son” in the sand when complete panic set in and he began to flee. It
was hard to reconcile the older, out of shape man running across the uneven
desert terrain with who I had pictured in my mind. Even though I saw pictures
of him, I’d missed out on watching him grow up so instead of preparing to meet
an adult, I had been expecting a child.

I moved alongside my son
as he huffed and wheezed his way up the embankment. Sweat coated his red face
in a shiny layer and his hair hung in limp clumps by the time he reached the
top.

“Easy there, are you
okay?” Elena tried to intercept, but he was in a blind panic. He brushed past her
and after clearing the guard rail, ran onto the road. Eric and Elena ran after
him, but had to dodge oncoming vehicles. A horn blared and I watched in horror
as my son narrowly avoided being clipped by a tractor trailer. Another car was
coming up on him, but it suddenly veered onto the shoulder and came to an
abrupt halt. A woman jumped out of the passenger side and ran in front of
Junior, grabbing him by his shoulders, bringing him to a stop. I joined them.
Looking directly at me she said, “You must be Frank,” she said. Both my son and
I said yes at the same time.

“Who are you?” I asked
since my son was gasping for his next breath.

“I’m Adele - the medium
working with Elena.” Eric and Elena had made it across the interstate and stood
next to us.

“What the hell, man, you
could have gotten yourself killed!” Eric yelled at my son, which I didn’t like
one bit. My hands clenched up into fists. Elena, noticing this reaction, stepped
forward, placing herself between me and Eric while talking to my boy.

“Frank, I know you’re
freaked out, but you need to calm down. That was your dad trying to communicate
with you.”

My son’s breathing was
back under control, but his whole body was shaking. Gavin popped the trunk of
his car and fished a bottle of water out of a cooler. He handed it to Junior
who drained the contents in three gulps.

“Thank you.”

“No problem, man. I’m
Gavin by the way.” They shook hands.

“Frank, are you sure
you’re ready for this?” Adele asked. She placed her hands on his shoulders
again and looked up into my son’s eyes. “If you’re not going to be okay then we
won’t do anything.”

I was impressed that this
small woman didn’t hesitate to stand toe to toe with a man who towered over her.
Her grip on Junior was firm and unyielding. Energy visibly crackled off of her
like static electricity. Movement behind the medium caught my attention.
Lawrence, Georgia and Bob had joined us. So did another spirit, who seemed
vaguely familiar. I glanced from this new spirit to Adele, noting the
similarities, realizing this was the identical twin sister Elena told us about.

“No, I want to do this. I
just need a few minutes,” Junior said. His cheeks were less flushed and the
sheen of sweat had evaporated. He looked more in control. Adele released her
hold on him and my son sat down on the rear bumper of Gavin’s car. He lit up a
cigarette and I couldn’t help but notice the brand: Lucky Strikes unfiltered,
exactly what I used to smoke.

“Man, what I would do for
a smoke,” Bob said. He stood next to me and stared longingly at the cigarette
in my son’s hand.

Next Lawrence came to
stand with us. “I used to enjoy an occasional cigar myself - not around Helen
though, the smoke upset her asthma too much.”

“It’s weird the things
you miss, isn’t it?” a voice said from behind. I turned to see Adele’s sister.
“For me, I miss actually feeling the sun. Here we are standing out in the
middle of daylight, but feel nothing.”

I nodded in agreement.
“You’re Adele’s sister, right?”

“Yes, Amelia and you all
are?” We went around the group introducing ourselves. I still kept an eye on my
son, but had taken a step back from trying to communicate with him. Seeing how
close he came to being hit by a truck was enough for me.

Junior finished his smoke;
dropping the butt onto the dirt he ground it out with the tip of his sneaker. “Okay,
I’m ready.”

“Hey man, I freaked out
when I first saw the writing in the sand and everything too,” Eric said, “It
gets easier.”

“Good.” He stood up
straighter and brushed his hair back. “So, what’s next?” he asked Adele.

“I know your father does
want to connect with you. We’ll go somewhere private and do it, one on one.”
She turned to me. “We’ll follow you.”

I led them to Juanita’s
memorial. She had crossed over soon after reuniting with her daughter. While
originally I had hoped for the same results, now that my son was here, I wasn’t
ready to leave.

It was only after we
stopped that I noticed Amelia was with us. She gave me a reassuring smile
before her sister started giving instructions.

“I’m going to hold your
hand,” Adele said to my son. “Then I’m going to hold onto your father’s hand.
I’ll be the conduit so hopefully you’ll be able to see and talk to him.”

Junior licked his lips
and nodded, stretching his hand out to Adele. She grasped it and then reached
for mine. When our hands joined, a jolt traveled up my arm, coursing through
me. I experienced a similar sensation when we harnessed energy during lightning
storms.

I heard a gasp. Junior
was staring at me, actually looking directly at me. “Oh my God, it’s really
you,” he whispered. “Mom gave me all the pictures of you. That’s how I know.”

“When?” I asked.

“When what?”

“When did she give you
those pictures?”

“After she re-married.
She said she didn’t need them anymore.”

I winced at the coldness
of this statement; Junior didn’t hold back on the obvious resentment he felt
towards Faye’s second marriage.

“That’s all in the past
now.”

“Easy for you to say.”

My son and I regarded
each other for the first time. He was tall like me, but he had Faye’s chin and
he held it at an angle, like she did when she was on the defense. He had my
hairline, my eyes and my build, but his coloring was more Faye. I wondered what
he looked like as a baby.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there
when you born. If I had a choice, I’d have been.”

“Grandma said you made
your choice when you left for that guys’ weekend.”

“Yes, that sounds like
something she would have said. Your grandmother and I weren’t exactly close.
What about my parents?”

Junior shook his head. “They
were around at first, but after mom remarried we moved and I didn’t see them
after that. Mom tried hard to cut all ties with her previous life.”

“And where did you fit
in?” I asked, although I knew what his answer would be.

“I didn’t. I was
constantly compared to you…and not in a good way. The first time I got busted in
high school for drinking, mom almost threw me out of the house. She said I was
going to wind up doing something really stupid and she didn’t want any part of
it. I was surprised when her husband intervened, but he only did because it
would look bad if they kicked me out – since I was a minor. After that, I was
just a series of disappointments. As soon as I turned eighteen, I was gone.”

“That doesn’t sound like
the Faye I knew. We had our problems, but I loved your mom and she loved me.”

“I think she did. One of
my first memories is of her holding me and crying. Her arms were wrapped tight
around me and she rocked back and forth, her tears dampening my hair. I was so
scared…couldn’t have been more than three years old at the time. A few years
after that she met Henry and that’s when she gave all of your pictures to me.
They were stored in a Lone Ranger box at the top of my closet for years. I took
the box with me when I moved out.”

“Did you go to college –
play sports – anything like that?”

“Sure, I played football
in high school, but didn’t go to college. I started selling cars right after I
moved out. This career choice was another ‘disappointment’ to mom. I was good
at it though.”

“Was?”

“There isn’t much I’m
good at anymore. I work at this pathetic excuse of a used car lot where I live,
by the way, in a piece of shit trailer, plus I have a court date next month and
could be sent to jail this time.”

Anger washed over me. Not
directed at my son, but at myself and more so at Faye. I didn’t want to die. I
shouldn’t have been drinking and driving, I know that, but it’s not like I
planned the accident – hell, I should never have gone on that trip. Faye had a
choice and she chose to take out all of her hurt and resentment on our son. He
was an innocent and her displaced blame ruined him. I don’t think he was ever
given a chance. How do you right so many years of wrong?

“You got a bum deal, son
and for this I’m sorry.”

He shrugged his shoulders
and looked away, his eyes focusing on some distant point behind me.

The current of energy
that had been flowing from Adele stuttered then stopped. “Dad, where did you
go?”’ Junior asked.

Adele’s hand slipped from
mine and she swayed before collapsing in a heap on the ground, resembling a
discarded doll. Her sister appeared and crouched over Adele on one side while
my son knelt down on her other side, completely unaware of Amelia’s presence.
He checked Adele’s pulse and relaxed when she moaned, turning her head slightly
before opening her eyes.

“Dilly, are you okay?”
her sister asked.

‘Yes, Milly, I’m fine. My
resources are depleted.” She looked at my son. “Can you help me up?”

“Sure!” Junior grasped
Adele’s hand and pulled her to her feet, placing a hand at the small of her
back until she was steady. “Um, who’s Milly?”

“Thank you.” Adele wiped
dust off her backside. “Milly is my sister, but she’s a ghost too so you can’t
see her.” They began walking back to the clearing and I followed. “I’ll need
Elena and Milly’s help if you want to continue talking to your dad.”

“I don’t want you to hurt
yourself.” My son’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Adele with obvious concern.
His hand was on the small of her back again and he slowed his pace to walk by
her side.

“Oh, I’ll be fine, but
thank you.” We had reached the clearing and Adele went right for the cooler
full of bottled water. After taking a few sips she placed the bottle against
her forehead and closed her eyes.

“Everything good?” Elena
asked.

“Yes, but I don’t think
Frank and his son are finished. So I’ll need to channel your energy like I did
when we called up Gavin’s brother.”

“Okay.”

Adele finished the water
and, taking a deep breath, started walking back towards Juanita’s memorial.
Elena joined us this time and so did Amelia. We all joined hands and my son
smiled when he saw me. I smiled back and wished I could hug him, reassure him
like a child and tell him everything was going to be all right.

“We’ll have to make this
fast, fellas. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to last,” Adele said.

I didn’t waste any time
and jumped right in. “Listen son, I can’t help you with your legal troubles,
but I do know that life is too short to waste it. Don’t live in the past.
Whatever wrongs your mom did to you, don’t let them dictate your life. You can
change if you want to. I started to change. That guys’ weekend was going to be
my last hoorah before you were born. I wanted to be a better man, husband and
father. I just never got the chance to prove to your mom that I could be that
person she wanted.”

“Like I said earlier, Dad,
it’s not so easy.”

“No it’s not. Life isn’t
easy. Death isn’t either. I’ve spent decades regretting my decisions. I missed
out on seeing you born, raising you, seeing you grow into a man.”

“Yeah, well you get to
see me now…as a spectacular fuck up. I’ll be sixty soon and what do I have to
show for myself?”

“You’re still here.
You’re alive...doing a hell of a lot better than me.”

Junior opened his mouth
to say something, but snapped it shut with a click of his jaw. “You’re
absolutely right,” he said after a few moments. He stood up straighter, making
his paunch less noticeable.

Adele’s energy stuttered
again. Her eyes were closed in concentration, but the color had faded from her
cheeks. Elena was pale too and sweat dripped down from her temple. Amelia
flickered, fading to invisible a few times. Knowing time was running out, I
said the words I had longed to say for decades, “I’m your father and love you
no matter what.”

Chapter Eighty-One

ELENA

Adele was too exhausted
to do anything else that afternoon, so Gavin drove her back to Scottsdale. We
made arrangements to meet again the next day at noon. I was tired too and dozed
most of the way back to Prescott. We dropped a subdued Frank Jr. off at a motel
on route 89A then headed to Eric’s apartment. Once inside, I collapsed on the
sofa. Eric brought me a bottle of water and sat down. I moved so my head was on
his lap and fell asleep to the sounds of the news on the television.

When I woke, the
apartment was dark and a pillow had replaced Eric’s lap. I sat up and
stretched. My body ached like it did after working out, which I hadn’t done in
a few weeks. A light spilling out into the hallway led me to the second bedroom
in Eric’s apartment, which served as a guest room/office. The desk lamp was on
and Eric sat in front of his computer. Walking up behind him, I wrapped my arms
around his chest.

“Hey, feeling better?” he
asked, leaning his head back against me.

“Mmmmm” I said against
his neck. He laughed as the vibration tickled.

“Are you hungry?”

“I’m starving,” my
stomach growled at the thought of food. “This whole medium business sure works
up an appetite.”

After exploring the
limited food options in Eric’s kitchen, we settled on spaghetti with marinara
sauce. While we ate, we recapped the day’s events.

“So, Frank is still
here,” Eric said.

“Yeah, Adele thinks the
one meeting wasn’t enough or there is something else holding Frank back, but
she was too tired to speculate.”

“What do you think?”

“I think this whole thing
is still crazy,” I laughed and scooped a second helping of pasta onto my plate.
“I’m glad Frank Jr. stuck it out though. At first, I didn’t think it was going
to be that promising.”

“No, I thought that truck
was going to be the end of him.”

I was amazed that Frank
Jr. didn’t get hit either. One moment the horn was screaming out a warning and
the next I was breathing in hot exhaust fumes. The truck blew by me and I lost
sight of Frank, certain in those few seconds he had been hit. I was stuck
standing in the one lane waiting for the truck to pass by before catching a
glimpse of Frank Jr., still on his feet, unharmed.

After dinner we didn’t
talk about Adele or the ghosts. We put all of those thoughts aside and snuggled
on the sofa, watching a movie. Despite the nap, I was still tired and we called
it an early night. Eric held me against him, one leg draped over mine. He
nuzzled my neck, kissing right behind my ear. “I love you,” he whispered. I
almost told him then, but drifted asleep, secure in his arms, before I could
form the words.

*** 

The next morning we
returned to the motel to pick up Frank Jr. When we drove around the side to his
room, the door was wide open. Being law enforcement officers, we were
immediately on alert. Eric parked in an empty space near Frank’s room and I
went to open the car door, but Eric placed his hand on my arm. “Wait, I’ll go.”

I watched as he slowly
approached, imagining every scenario possible, very aware Eric was unarmed.
There was movement in the room, just beyond the doorframe and I sucked in a
breath, ready to call out a warning. I exhaled in a whoosh and almost laughed
when the front of a housekeeper’s cart emerged, followed by a shrunken Hispanic
woman wearing a gray and white striped housekeeper’s uniform.

Eric said something to
the woman. She shook her head and pointed in the direction of the office. Eric
hopped back into the Jeep. “What’s up?” I asked.

“Apparently Frank checked
out. Let’s see if he’s at the office.”

We drove around the
building and parked. The office was barely large enough for the two of us and
unless Frank was invisible, he wasn’t there. We asked the manager at the desk
if he knew anything.

“Oh yeah, he checked out
early this morning…had me call him a cab to take him to the bus station. Who
are you?”

“I’m Elena; we were supposed
to pick him up here at noon.”

“Elena, huh? Hold on a
sec…” The manager rummaged through piles of papers and candy wrappers on the
desk. Apparently this guy had a sweet tooth and liked Kit Kats. “Ah, here it
is. He asked me to give this to you.” I was handed a simple white envelope.
Written on the front, next to my name, was a note:
Please give this to my
dad. Thanks for everything.

I didn’t understand why
Frank Jr. left and hoped the note offered an explanation, for his dad’s sake.
We arrived at the clearing before Gavin and Adele. As per usual, Frank,
Lawrence, Georgia, and Bob were waiting.

When Frank realized his
son wasn’t with us, he looked at me with an anxiety-ridden expression on his
face. I held the envelope towards him. “Do you want me to read this to you – in
front of everyone?”

He nodded so I ripped the
paper open and pulled out a handwritten note:

Dear Dad,

I write this as dawn
approaches. I didn’t sleep at all last night, but I also didn’t drink. For the
first time in a long time, I’m sober. You’re right. I’ve been living by
people’s assumptions. Mom assumed I’d turn out like you so I didn’t think I’d
live to see 30 and I didn’t think I deserved a decent life.

Who gets a chance to
talk to their dead father? That shit doesn’t happen, but it did. I’m going back
to Nevada and will do better. If I go to jail, I’ll accept the consequences. I’m
59 years old - it’s time I grow up and take accountability for my actions. Last
night I really forced myself to examine my life. A run-down motel room with a
whiny air conditioner fan makes for a lonely back drop. You said I had a bum
deal and you’re right, but I let it define me. Right now I don’t have anyone in
my life who I can call on as a true friend.

Meeting you changed me
in more ways than I thought possible. Sure I wish you were there for me growing
up, but you were there for me yesterday when I was probably at the lowest point
in my life and needed you the most. The pity party is over. I want to change.

Thank you dad, I’ll do
our name proud.

Love,

Your son, Frank

***

FRANK SR.

Elena folded the paper
and handed it to me. After summoning up enough energy, I took it from her and
re-read the note. Was I disappointed that my son didn’t return with Eric and
Elena? Yes, but that was quickly replaced with pride, relief and satisfaction.
Our meeting made a difference and he wanted to change the course of his life.
He wasn’t wasting time getting started either.

Warmth enveloped me,
starting with the crown on my head and washing over me like a shower, but
without the wetness. This was the first time I’d felt any type of temperature
change since…well since I was alive.

“Do you all feel that?
It’s so warm!” I looked over at Lawrence, Georgia and Bob and that’s when I
realized they were no longer next to me. At some point I had moved and was standing
by my car, which wasn’t a twisted hunk of metal anymore, but brand new and shining
brilliantly in the midday sun. The engine purred as it idled and the driver’s
side door was open. Tucking my son’s note into the pocket of my shirt, behind
the half empty pack of Lucky Strikes, I slid into the car. The convertible top
was down so the seat was warm and vibrating slightly from the powerful engine
waiting for gas. My hands closed around the steering wheel. Man, I loved this
car. Taking a deep breath I shifted gears to drive.

I had barely tapped the
gas pedal when my car lurched forward and shot across the desert. Rocks and
cacti flew by in a blur and hot wind tickled my scalp. My arm hung out over the
side and a cigarette dangled from my mouth. I blinked and when I opened my eyes,
the landscape had changed. I was driving down a familiar street. As if on
auto-pilot the car pulled into a driveway and parked under the car port. The
engine shut off and the driver’s side door opened on its own, but instead of
staying and savoring my cigarette like I used to do, I stubbed it out in the
ashtray. I made my way up the walkway, past the recently trimmed Bougainvillea,
and opened the front door. Faye was there waiting for me. Her stomach was round
and stretching the limits of her dress. She was beautiful and glowed with an
inner radiance.

I wondered how I could
have missed that before, but I did.