Ghosts of Coronado Bay (5 page)

The depressed look fell away from his face, replaced by a broad smile. “It would be my pleasure.” He offered her his arm.

“Well, aren’t you the gentleman?” Sliding her arm through his, she led the way back across the parking lot to Main Street.

*  *  *

Across the street, two long-dead specters watched in truculent surprise as Maya and Blake walked together. To anyone passing by the two beings, they appeared as nothing more than wavering, vertical distortions easily mistaken for heat waves rising from the sidewalk. If the passerby happened to step through the twisting waves, they might have shivered in response to a sudden, momentary chill.

To each other, the ghosts appeared as solid and normal as the world around them.

They kept sharp sailors’ eyes on Blake and Maya until the two teenagers disappeared around a corner.

“P’raps this be something Mister Hamlin ought to be knowin’ about,” said the taller of the two, a gruff-looking, whiskered man who looked to be about sixty, the same as when he’d died.

“Aye.” His companion, a wide-shouldered mate with tattooed arms and a scarred neck, nodded. A pipe stuck out from the corner of his mouth, wisps of gray smoke trailing upwards from the bowl. The two figures turned and headed for the museum.

In their wake, a man exiting the barbershop paused as he caught a whiff of cherry-scented tobacco, similar to the kind his grandfather used to smoke. He looked around, but no one else occupied the sidewalk.

“This is your house?”

Maya and Blake stood in her driveway, Blake looking in awe at the four-bedroom brick and wood colonial.

“Yeah, that’s the old homestead. We’ve lived here since I was like two.”

“Your family must be very well off.”

Having grown up on an island where they were one of the few families who didn’t own second homes in Florida or New York, and who didn’t drive a BMW or Mercedes - or both - Maya was taken aback by the thought of someone considering her rich. She wondered what Blake’s family had been like. It was hard to tell from talking to him. He dressed in work-style clothes, but then on a boat that made sense. He didn’t speak like a sailor, though. His words were well thought out, and his vocabulary better than a lot of the kids she knew, even if it was out of date.

“Actually, we’re basic middle class. Even though my parents own the diner, they both have to work just about every day because they can’t afford to hire a full-time manager. Compared to a lot of the people in town, we’re sort of the opposite of well off.”

Blake pursed his lips. “Truly things have changed.”

Before she could respond, Maya’s cell phone rang. Blake jumped and stared as she pulled out the phone and glanced at the screen. “It’s my mom. Shhh. I’m not supposed to have boys over when no one’s home.”

Clicking the talk button, she said in a louder voice, “Hi, Mom. What’s up? Huh? Yeah, I got everything you wanted. Yes, I’ll be there on time. I’m getting ready right now. Bye!”

After making sure she’d closed the connection, Maya turned to Blake. “Sorry, but I gotta get to work. We’re still on for tonight, right?”

Still gazing at the cell phone, he said, “Yes. Coronado Lanes.”

“Nine-thirty. See you then.” Maya stepped back, but stopped when Blake moved forward and grasped her hands. Before she knew what was happening, he leaned in and kissed her, a long, full kiss that left her speechless when he finally broke it off.

“Nine-thirty. Goodbye, Maya.” He turned and walked away, his body gradually fading into nothingness as he left her sphere of influence, until nothing of him remained except an exciting tingle on her lips and tongue.

Shaking herself out of her daze, Maya went inside and quickly got dressed for work. As she did so, her mind kept replaying Blake’s kiss, followed by a question she couldn’t answer.

How stupid is it to fall for a ghost?

*  *  *

Silence ruled the hallways of the Maritime Museum once it closed for the night. Lit only by emergency lights, the high-ceilinged hallways and exhibition rooms acted as a passive alarm system, reflecting and amplifying the slightest of sounds from one room to the next, in the same manner as a system of caves. For that reason, Gavin Hamlin always held back from searching for the lost key until he was sure all the employees had taken their leave for the night. He never wasted his time, though. Instead, he spent countless hours contemplating the Black Lady exhibit, wracking his brain to come up with another idea as to where the key might be hidden, and how to get it.

He refused to entertain the possibility it still lay on the bottom of the ocean. No, it would be close to the book, he was sure of that. The magiks imparted into the key and book ensured they’d remain close to each other.

As for the book, it sat inside its locked box right on the center table, drawing his eyes and relentlessly mocking his impotence.

“Sir, we hates to bother you, but there’s somethin’ we think you ought to hear.”

As he turned towards the two sailors approaching him in the semi-darkness of the room, Gavin did his best to hide his annoyance at being disturbed. No sense taking his frustrations out on them. He’d need their full cooperation when he finally opened the thrice-damned box.

“What is it?”

“We happened upon young Mister Hennessy leaving the building today,” said Anton Childs, the oldest of all the sailors and the closest thing Gavin had to a confidant, as well as second in command. “Thought it a might odd for any of us to go about in the daylight, let alone venture away from that which ties us here, so we took it upon ourselves to follow him.”

Gavin frowned as he considered their words. What could Hennessy be up to? He’d never trusted the boy. His story of stowing aboard the Black Lady because he’d run away from home didn’t seem in keeping with his general demeanor. Oh, he’d worked hard enough in the couple of days before they’d sunk, but there’d been something about him...something that set Gavin’s nerves a-twitter whenever the boy was near.

Boy. Strange to think of him that way, with Blake but two years younger. Two years, but a world of difference between us.

“What did he do?”

“Believe it or not, he met up with a girl. Human, she was, and damn nice on the eyes, to boot.” Childs made an hourglass figure in the air with his hands.

“Ayuh,” agreed Victor Fogg, speaking around his pipe. “I’d show her a thing or two if I were alive.”

“A human? That’s impossible.” Gavin lifted his hands and blue sparks of energy crackled from his fingertips. “What kind of fool do you play me for?”

The two sailors, both twice Gavin’s age, but as afraid of him in death as they’d been in life, backed away. “No, sir, ‘tis no joke.” Childs shook his head. “Human, she was. We saw other humans speak to her, and to Hennessy, as well.”

Through his anger, Gavin felt a new emotion surge forward, something he hadn’t felt since he and others first manifested in the museum.

Hope.

If Hennessy’s somehow found a way to interact with the real world...

Gavin smiled, taking silent pleasure in the fearful way the two men reacted to his expression.

“I think we need to talk to Mister Hennessy.”

Maya started counting the minutes to the end of her shift when she still had two hours to go. The dinner crowd hadn’t been bad - she’d seen worse for a Saturday night - but it was bad enough to stop her from asking if she could leave a little early. That meant staying until eight-thirty, which meant she’d only have an hour to race home, shower, get dressed, and race back across town to the bowling alley.

She couldn’t even ask to use the car because she still wasn’t old enough to drive after nine. Not that her parents would let her take it. Her father insisted on driving to the bank to make each night’s deposit, even though crime was nearly non-existent in Coronado Bay.

God, she couldn’t wait until she had enough money to buy her own car, even if it ended up being a rust bucket with four bald tires.

Anything was better than asking for rides or walking.

Forty-three minutes. She grabbed a bowl of clam chowder and delivered it to table twelve. With nearly all the tables and booths filled, the noise level in the diner made it all but impossible to hear anything except the sounds she’d trained herself to distinguish from the racket: the ding of the kitchen bell, the words “Waitress!” or “Miss!” shouted by a customer.

“Maya!”

Or her name being called.

She glanced at her mother, saw her waving frantically.

A small hole opened in her stomach, threatening to swallow her from the inside out. The look on her mother’s face indicated the news wouldn’t be good. Which could only mean one thing.

Please. Not tonight. Please. If there’s a God in heaven...

“Was that who I think it was?” Maya asked, as her mother hung up the phone behind the register.

“I’m sorry, Maya. Annabelle...”

“Isn’t coming in, right? What, she’s sick, too?”

Emily Blair shook her head. “No, she had a car accident. She’s all right, but the doctor said she has to stay home tonight, just to be sure.”

It’s not fair! Maya wanted to shout it out loud, but she knew how it would sound. Petulant. Selfish. Typical teen-age reaction. So she clamped her mouth shut. But her face must have given her away because her mother immediately said something.

“I know that look. Did you have plans tonight?”

‘Plans’ was her mother’s way of asking if she had a date. “Kind of, yeah. We’re supposed to meet at the Lanes.”

“Well, just call him and say you’ll be a couple of hours late. Problem solved.” Before Maya could respond, her mother zipped out from behind the counter to seat an elderly couple who’d just come in.

Maya closed her eyes and took a deep breath. If only it were

 that easy. Too bad there’s no cellular service for the dead.

Ding! “Order up! Maya, let’s go. Get a move on!”

Fists clenched, Maya opened her eyes and got back to work.

*  *  *

Gavin Hamlin stepped out of the shadows, a nasty, mean expression on his face, just as Blake entered the museum’s main foyer.

“Where you going, lad?” As he spoke, four of his men entered the room and made a rough circle around Blake.

Caught off guard by their appearance, Blake stammered a reply. “I, um, was just heading outside to walk the beach. It...it helps me think.”

“Sounds like a bucket of manure to me. I heard tell you were out and about with a human today. Might be that you’re heading off to see her again?”

Someone saw us! Blake’s mind raced. There was no sense in lying, but at the same time, he had to protect Maya’s identity if he could. Best to put on a show of force and maybe take Hamlin’s mind off Maya. If it meant some physical punishment, so be it. Better him than her.

“You don’t own me, Hamlin. I can go where I want.”

Gavin moved closer, his hands balled into fists. Sparks arced from his clenched fingers, creating miniature fireworks in the dim light. “That’s where you’re wrong, lad. I do own you, until such a time as you can show me otherwise. Now, I’m going to ask you a question, and you’d better have an answer. How were you and the girl able to talk to each other?”

Something rose up inside Blake, the old anger he’d inherited from his mother, along with her hatred for the entire Hamlin clan and what they’d stood for.

“Piss off.”

Without warning, Hamlin’s left fist flashed forward, striking Blake square in the stomach. Flashes of lightning exploded where incorporeal substances met, and Blake doubled over with a cry of pain. Hamlin swiftly followed with another punch, a right hand to Blake’s jaw that knocked him sideways while more bursts of light lit up the room.

Blake looked up at Hamlin. “I’m not telling you a damn thing.” Each word sent arrows of pain through his cheek and guts, but he refused to let it show.

The tall, dark-haired young man laughed - an evil sound that made Blake cringe. “That’s too bad for you, but good for me. I can do this all night, or until you talk, whichever comes first. Hold him down, boys.”

*  *  *

For the next fifteen minutes, anyone walking past the Maritime Museum would have thought something was wrong with the lights, or perhaps someone was working with welding equipment.

None of them would have suspected a ghost was taking a terrible beating.

*  *  *

Maya sipped a soda and wondered what to do. She’d hoped Blake would be waiting for her at the bowling alley, even though she’d been two hours late. But there was no sign of him anywhere. And it wasn’t like she could ask any of her friends if they’d seen him.

He could have done the Hamster Dance in front of them, and they’d have never known.

“You gonna bowl or just stand there?” Lucy asked.

Maybe he went down to the beach. He seems to like walking there. “No, I think I’m gonna go home. Work sucked, and I’m tired. I’ll catch you tomorrow, okay?”

Lucy frowned. “Are you sure you’re all right? I could--”

“Hey, Lucy! C’mon, you’re up!”

Lucy raised her middle finger towards Gary, one of the many unladylike habits she somehow managed to pull off without seeming crass. “I’ll be right there. Don’t get your panties in a bunch.”

“Go ahead, Luce. I’m fine.” Maya forced a smile.

Lucy gave her a close look, but in the end the lure of fun and flirting won out. “All right. We’ll talk tomorrow.” She gave Maya a quick kiss and then ran back to the lane and grabbed a ball from the rack.

Maya watched them for a moment longer, tempted to stay and enjoy herself. After all, she deserved a night of fun. But even stronger was the feeling of guilt at having stood Blake up. She owed it to him to try and find him and apologize.

God, could this night get any worse?

With a sigh, she headed for the exit.

*  *  *

Blake watched as Gavin and his men passed through the museum doors and out into the night. Guilt weighed on him as heavily as the Atlantic waters on a drowning man. He’d tried to hold out, but in the end Gavin’s punishment was too severe. He’d begged for mercy, told them everything he knew. How Maya had the ability to see and speak with ghosts. How being near her enabled a ghost to be solid again. Gavin hadn’t believed him and had beaten him a second time for lying.

Afterwards, however, one of the other sailors, the old timer named Childs, had pulled Gavin aside and spoken with him. They’d kept their voices low, but thanks to the way sounds carried in the cavernous room, Blake managed to hear most of what they said.

“’Tis possible, it is, sir. I’ve heard tell of such things. My pa, he was from the old country. Said ‘twas something some folk could do. Most times it got them burned at the stake for witchcraft, it did.”

“If what you’re saying is true, then simply by keeping her near us we could regain our corporeality and actually search the museum for the key.”

“Aye, I guess. But there’s more to it than that. ‘Ccording to the tales my Pa told me, if the lass in question be a virgin, then taking her womanly blood would make you whole again, forever.”

A note of black desire had crept into Gavin’s voice. Blake felt unclean just from hearing it. “You mean, if I make this girl’s virginity my own, I’ll be...human again?”

“That’s what the stories say. I’ve never met a witch, so I can’t say with any authority as to the truth o’ that. But then, so far the tale seems true enough, eh?”

Gavin eyes had flicked towards Blake. “I wonder if he knows this girl well enough to say if she’s a virgin?”

“I don’t know about her, but her friends are.” Anton Childs stepped forward. “When we was watching them, we saw them talking with a whole boodle of lasses. And they was holding signs in the air. I couldn’t read them all, but I saw the word virgin on some of them.”

“Really?” Gavin’s voice indicated he didn’t believe the sailor’s story.

“Swear on me mother’s grave, sir. T’aint no hornswaggle. ‘Twas the opposite of the docks when we was alive. There the whores announced themselves. P’raps here the virgins do.”

Chuckling softly, Gavin had rubbed his hands together. “I think maybe I need to meet this girl. Take me to this bowling alley.”

After the other ghosts left, Blake attempted to get up, but his arms and legs refused to cooperate. I’ve got to warn Maya! Marshalling all his will, he commanded his body to sit up.

Nothing happened.

It’s as if Gavin’s punches drained my energy.

The idea didn’t seem all that outlandish to Blake. After all, Gavin was a sorcerer, descended from a long line of even more powerful sorcerers. That was the reason Blake had followed him to New York in the first place, to keep his promise to his mother and stop Gavin from bringing the book to Boston. Technically, he’d failed at that, but he’d taken solace in knowing the danger had ended with the sinking of the Black Lady.

Until those damned scientists dragged us from our graves!

Now it looked like he might fail again. If he couldn’t keep Gavin and Maya apart, then all he’d managed to do was delay the inevitable by a couple of centuries.

I can’t let him win.

Gritting non-existent teeth, he moved his arms under his chest, and pushed with all his strength.