Maggie on the Bounty (5 page)

W
e checked into our room.  There
were two tiny twin beds on either side of the tiny space.  Little portholes
looked out onto the lights of Long Beach.  I threw my bag on my bed and Killian
perched gently on his.  This was the first time we spent a hotel stay with each
other that didn't involve imminent death.  Yet.  What a change.

I opened up my bag and started
unwadding my clothes.  I made sure everything I owned was wad-and-wear.  Life
is too short to fold.

Killian, on the other hand, had
every single gawddamned pair of tights folded into neat little squares inside
of his round little knapsack.  I'm pretty sure I wouldn't last a minute in his
elfin forest.

I kicked the boots off my feet and
threw myself onto the bed.  "So, nap for thirty minutes before our
adventures begin?"

"Or, perhaps we do not sleep
on our employer’s dime and start immediately, so that we do not risk losing
half of our salary for failure."

I fluffed the pillow.  "Oh,
come on Killian.  Do I detect a hint of doubt in your voice?  We'll have this
thing solved before the boat whistle blows midnight."

"I am not inclined to share
your enthusiasm."

"Nothing was ever solved with
false modesty."

"The success ratio with false
bravado is about the same."

Something was bugging him.  I
propped myself up on my elbow.  "What's the deal?"

Killian sat down on the other bed
and explained it very slowly to me so that I could keep up.  "You do not
hear ghosts.  I do not hear ghosts.  It would appear that our one entry point
of information is, therefore, blocked."

I shrugged.  "Like you heard
the man say, there aren't any ghosts to talk to."

"I still wonder why you,
specifically, were called in."

"Probably because my mom
wouldn't be caught dead taking this sort of case."

"Maggie, there are mediums and
ghost hunters all over America that would be better suited for engaging with
these beings and discovering what the problem was.  Why hire someone who is
unable to hear what your key witnesses have to say?"

"What are YOU trying to say,
Killian, because I'm pretty sure I'm unable to hear what you're getting
at."

He threw up his hands.  "I am
attempting to point out to you that there is more than meets the eye on this
case.  Something is affecting the ghosts at the same time we discovered a
vampire in a bathroom in the middle of the day.  I think our employer knows
there is more going on here than a medium would be able to handle and the
sooner we guard ourselves against this unknown, preferably before darkness
falls, the better our chances of survival will be."

I patted Killian's arm.
"There, there, partner.  No one in this business is going to go around
getting themselves killed while I am co-owner."

"It is not me that I am
worried about."

Killian obviously needed to noodle
through some ideas on his own with me out of yelling distance so I sat up and
said, "I'm going to get some caffeine, since obviously sleep isn't going
to be the thing allowing me to stay up late tonight."

Killian shook his head.

"I'll get one for you,
too," I offered.  "It ain't nectar, but maybe a little sugar in your
system will make you less of a brat."

"I hope the machine devours your
gold pieces," he said.

"Brat."

I wandered out into the hall and
found the vending area.  The guy ahead of me pushed the Coke button and out
tumbled his can.  I put my dollar in and pressed the same button and out came a
Pepsi.

I sighed and stuck in another
dollar.

Out came another Pepsi.

There was someone behind me and I
let them go ahead as I rummaged through my pockets for more change.  They hit
Coke and got what they wanted.

I found another buck and pressed
the button.  Out came another damned Pepsi.

A face suddenly appeared in the
shiny glass of the vending machine.  I sprang back, clutching my heart.  You
know, they say that phobias are always rooted in some sort of negative
experience and I gotta say, as I watched that ghost silently laugh I remembered
why I hated them so much.

"Are you fucking kidding
me?!?!  A haunted Coke machine that only serves Pepsi?!?"  I looked closer
and then the face disappeared.  "The moment I get a chance, I'm dooming
you to an eternity haunting the deep fryer at McDonalds!"

I shook my head and wandered back
to the room. I pushed open the door.

"Well, I had my first
encounter," I said as I dumped all the beverages on the bathroom counter.
"Seems this place isn't as deserted as el jefe would be inclined to let us
believe."

Killian didn't say anything, which
was not like him.  I peered around the corner into the bed area to see if he
still had his tights in a twist.

Fucking elf.

Killian, damn his dainty little
ears, was fast asleep.  I picked up the end of his mattress and dumped him on
the floor.

"What the fuck???" I
shouted at him.

Killian rubbed his eyes,
"What?"

"What the hell are you doing
sleeping???"

Killian looked at me like I was
going crazy. "You indicated you would be happiest if we took a nap, so I
decided you were much more knowledgeable on such matters and I should listen to
your recommendations."

"That is not how you let me
win!" I shouted.  "You let me win by letting
me
going to
sleep."

"But you were not here,"
he explained, looking very confused.

"Exactly.  Because I was out
in the hall trying to get you a Coke and was only able to get you a
Pepsi!"

Killian was not following. 
"That... too... would also be agreeable."

"No!  You're not following
what I'm saying!"

"I believe you are
correct..." he said slowly as if he was waiting for me to jump down his
throat.  I have no idea why.

"The vending machine is
haunted."

He started to laugh.  "I find
that highly improbable."

"It kept giving me
Pepsis."

"Perhaps it was merely a
stocking error."

"And then I saw the face of a ghost
in the vending machine."

"That would indicate perhaps it
is more than a stocking error."

"That's what I've been trying
to tell you."  I threw Killian's boots at him. "Up.  Get up.  You
win.  We have ghosts to catch."

W
e stood on the upper deck next to
the little sign that said "Ghost Tour."

Killian leaned over, "Did
admission come in our welcome packet?"

"Don't worry.  I'm expensing
it."

"Why the tour?" he
asked.  "Would it not be better to begin our investigation ourselves
rather than with a large group of humans?"

"Figure if we have folks to
hunt down which neither you nor I can hear or feel, sometimes it's a good idea
to ask the locals if they have any leads on where they hang out.  Also, if our
job is to bring the ghosts back, I need to know where to dump them."

"By the way, how do we plan on
gathering up these ghosts?" Killian asked.

"Haven't quite worked out that
bit, yet," I shrugged.

"Perhaps we can just ask them
nicely," Killian suggested.

"I don't understand the words
coming out of your mouth."

Killian stepped aside as a large
family of five joined the queue.

"It would be so much easier if
they came swarming around naked throats like vampires or something," I
said.  "But ghosts need a sloppy death and I REALLY don't want to resort
to killing passengers all so our boss gets his quota of dead people."  As
the family behind us jostled me, I continued the thought, "Although I
could be persuaded."

"We would need to charge extra
for that."

I sighed.  "Right?  Not at
these rates."

Our tour guide lifted the velvet
rope and ourselves along with fifteen other giggling tourists made our way into
the bowels of the boat.

We stood at the back of the tour as
we came to a stop at the base of a stairway.  Rows of staterooms lined the
hall.  Our tubby Irish tour guide was sweating his way through his spiel.  His
pits had the stain of too many steps walked and not enough time spent next to
the air vents.

Someone's baby was losing its cool
and would not stop wailing.

I leaned over to Killian and
whispered, "Hate to be the one with a room next to that family."

Killian sighed.  "When is your
sister's due date?"

"Not for a long, long
time."

The tour guide wiped
his brow and pointed to a plaque on the side of a large picture of the boat.  Rattling
off the canned text of his spiel, he said, "This is the
door to the first class playroom.  It is currently a
storage closet.  But there have been reports of hearing a baby cry.  In fact
just last week, someone stayed behind to take pictures and
reported hearing it.  Moving on."  With as much excitement as a
Monday morning, the tour guide motioned for the group to follow him as he
walked away.

I grabbed Killian's arm and held
him back for a minute as all of the tourists snapped pictures of the
nondescript door, totally missing the fact the psychic activity they were
looking for was happening in front of them. "You heard that too,
right?"

He nodded, staring intently at the
door as if he was trying to memorize everything that was going on in this
moment.  "Indeed, I did."

"Well," I sighed. 
"That's just fantastic."

Killian gave me a sideways glance. 
"I would think that this was, indeed, a fantastic lead.  We have one less
ghost to track down for our employer."

I realized the group was getting
way ahead of us, so Killian and I jogged to catch up.  The tour guide was
unlocking the door to a stateroom and saying that the ghost that inhabited this
room would pull off your covers in the middle of the night and pinch your
butt.  Sounded like some dates I had been on. 

Our guide was a little too big to
fit into the room with all of us, so he just motioned us through.  "This
is the most psychically active room onboard and we can no longer use it as a
rentable room due to the number of complaints from our guests of haunted
activity.  Look around and I'll meet you here when you are finished."

"I would think that a haunted
room would actually be a selling point if our employer is hoping to gain the
reputation as a haunted site," Killian murmured.

"Very 'actually', unless bad things happened to the
people who made the mistake of sleeping in here," I replied.  "Wonder
how bad it was?"

The room was stripped bare with
nothing but a bunch of broken furniture all over the place.

Killian inspected
the cracked porthole glass.  "I would hazard a guess it was fairly
bad."

"Poltergeists.  I can't
believe they want us to try and figure out how to keep poltergeists onsite. 
Most folks pay good money to get these cleaned up."

"If you were to describe the
differences between a ghost and a poltergeist...?" Killian offhandedly
asked.

"Ghosts just lurk around and
are annoying.  Poltergeists can move things."

"Like soap and cans of
soda?"

"Oh, now, look who is starting
to understand what I was saying about the damned soda cans.  Next time I tell
you about a haunted vending machine—"

"I am heartily sorry."

"Damned right you are."

"Do you need me to apologize
one more time, or are you ready to continue?"

"Just once more."

"I am sorry."

"Excellent."  We shook on
it.

The tour group was losing its mind
over all the broken things. 

"Earth humans are strange
creatures," Killian muttered, shaking his head at a shattered marble
bedside table.

The bathroom lights flickered on
and off. 

"What the hell?" I said,
jumping.  Have I mentioned how much I hate ghosts?

"It is most likely an
electrical surge," Killian reassured me, trying to calm me down.

"Right," I replied,
eyeing the light bulb suspiciously.

All of the tourists started taking
flash pictures, which sort of defeated capturing the lights flickering on and
off.

"Perhaps it is only a trick to
make people feel like they are experiencing supernatural powers," Killian
suggested.

"Or it
is only poltergeists," I said.

"Or
poltergeists."

"Don't
agree with me, elf."

I elbowed
my way out.  I had seen what I needed to see and didn't need to spend another
minute in that room.  Killian followed me out.

He gave me
a little sideways squeeze.  "Never fear, Maggie.  I shall protect you from
these creatures of your darkest fears."

Some girls
like a man around the house to squish spiders.  Me, I found nothing as
attractive as a guy willing to squash dead things.  But Killian was missing the
point.  "I will not turn be turning down your offer to go after these
ghosts whenever they do show up, but I think we've got a bigger issue
here."

"That
being?"

"Think
of the ghosts as a nice little gathering of bacteria.  You kill off the nice
bacteria and only the strongest, meanest bacteria survive and they start to
infest the place.  Pretty soon you have a nasty colony of resistant bacteria
that are going to make some people very, very sick."

Killian
nodded, finally starting to get where I was going.  "Something wiped out
the ghosts, and so only the strong..."

"...est...

"...strongest..."

"...harmful..."

"...strongest,
harmful ghosts remain."

"You
got it."

"Again,
I would point out that our employer does not seem the discerning type and would
rather have the dramatics of a stronger ghost than the wisps of the more benign
entities."

"When
did you turn all mercenary on me, Killian?"

"When
I became half-partner in the financial success of this tracking business,"
he replied.

"Listen,
what Julio wants or doesn't want doesn't change the fact that something
powerful came through and wiped out the 'nice' ghosts.  And when something big
and powerful comes through and does an extermination like this, it usually
means something mean and nasty from The Other Side is hanging out where it
should not be hanging out."

"Which
means more paying work for you and I?"

"Yes,"
I said.  "But for once, could you not think about a paycheck?"

"Will
Lacy be delivering the paycheck?"

"For
once, could you not think about Lacy?"

"I
usually think about Lacy far more than once."

I pulled out my phone. 
There were no messages.  There was also no reception, but that was beside the
point.  "I wish she would call already with the results
of that vampire we dropped off."

"You
think the vampire has something to do with these poltergeists?"

"You
think it doesn't?"

"It
could be coincidence."

"I'm
not going to chalk it up to nothing until we find out it's nothing."

"We
can always refuse this job, Maggie," Killian pointed out.  "We could enjoy the weekend in our stateroom, watch Earth television,
and collect the half fee in a few days."

That
actually sounded really nice, but if there was something here, I had a feeling
they weren't the type to let us sit in our room eating bon-bons.  As Dad always
used to say, "Err on the side of kick-butt before your butt is
kicked." 

"I'll
be fine," I said.  "I just prefer something I can stake over things
that go bump in the night." 

The rest of the tour group had
exited the room and were excitedly showing off their pictures, exclaiming to
each other that they had most definitely had a close encounter of the Other
Worldly kind because their flash had lit up some dust in the air.  They had
absolutely no idea that when you encounter a ghost, there is no mistaking it
for dust.

The guide led us down the hallway
and down a couple of flights of stairs, right into the center of the ship.  He
announced, "We are now entering the most haunted swimming pool on our
ship."

I felt like this was akin to
saying, "You're my favorite oldest daughter," but who was I to quibble?

The guide was still talking about
the features of the room, the diving boards, the mother-of-pearl ceiling, the
tile work.  When he finally let us in, it was actually a really pretty room. 
It was two stories, the one with the pool and deck, then a sweeping staircase
that led to a balcony that wrapped around the whole pool.  The better for
industrious young'uns to look down unsuspecting tops.  There were empty His and
Hers dressing rooms at both the front and back of the room. 

"This is the site of the most
haunted area on our ship.  We have had paranormal investigators come by and
they suggest there is a vortex located inside the dressing room over to your
right," he said in his bored-spiel voice.  "Please feel free to look
around the room on your own."

Killian jerked his head towards the
corner and we both wandered over to this supposed vortex.

It was a fucking portal alright. 
It was closed right now, but I could feel the signature.  It's like scar tissue
on the boundary.  Run your hand across the surface and you can feel a walker's
efforts.

"We got a weak spot right
here, Killian," I said, pointing out the rip, forgetting for a moment I
wasn't working with my dad.

He stared at it intently.  "I
do not see a thing."

It was just a little
moment, but one of those punch-to-the-gut reality checks.  It wasn't the elf's
fault.  I just hadn't quite been ready.  I... wasn't working with my dad.  I
took a breath and squished all those feelings down before Killian got a whiff
of them.  "The boundary is naturally thin here, but it also has a scar in
it.  If you open up a portal once or twice, it can heal itself so that you
never even know a portal was even there.  But I can feel this one like a
keloid, which means it is opened often by someone who doesn't really know what
they're doing.  Someone's been moving things in and out of this pool room and
it wasn't too long ago."

"If you all would follow me,
please," the tour guide asked.  "We need to keep moving along."

I whispered to Killian, "First
chance we have to ditch them, you and I come back here."

That's when I saw her.  A little
girl walking slowly along the upper level.  She was dressed in a lacy white
dress with a drop waist and her blonde hair hung in curls that would have sent
Shirley Temple into fits of jealous rage.  The little girl looked down at me
and stared straight into my eyes.  I put my hand on Killian's arm and pointed. 
He looked up at her and she vanished.

"Did you see that?"

He nodded.

"She was completely
corporeal.  We are way in over our heads, Killian."

"Perhaps we should reconsider
my suggestion to take the half payment and enjoy our vacation," he
offered.

I looked around at
the milling tourists. They were so desperate for a ghostly encounter and had
completely missed that there was one standing right above them.

"No," I said.  "That
little kid specifically wanted us to see her.  She hid herself from everyone
else.  I can't leave her roaming this boat when she's asking for help."

I might not have my mom's gifts,
but I had picked up a thing or two about the family trade.  Being a ghost sucks
balls.  If you miss that window into the afterworld, you are in for a world of
misery for the rest of eternity.  It is how my mom tried to teach me to have a
little more sympathy for the ghost banging around our place when I was a kid. 
So, if this little girl was stuck, and she knew enough that I might be able to
give her a hand... well.  Sometimes you're in a place for a reason.

"Maggie, are you getting soft
on me?"

"Don't go spreading it
around," I warned.

Killian and I dutifully shuffled
along with the herd as our group was led out and into an elevator.  The guide
pressed the button for "down."  Down, down, down into the bowels of
this ship until we couldn't go any farther without diving gear.  We stepped out
into the hull of the boat.  As far as the eye could see was a rusty room with
open beams and catwalks.  The ceiling seemed like it was a million miles above
us, which it might as well have been—the guide announced that we were thirty
feet below the waterline and only six inches of steel was protecting us from
the crush of the ocean.