A gentle breeze and overcast sky kept Jimox and Teina cool as they pedaled hard, in low gear. They crested a rise and saw the small sea-side town below, an idyllic little fishing and tourist village, complete with clam chowder restaurant on the pier, gulls calling to each other, and waves splashing on the rocks below.
They coasted to a stop at the high-point of the road, planted their shoes on the warm pavement, and linked tails for courage. A sign beside the road said Welcome To, but the rest had been ripped away by some winter storm.
“Population four hundred and twenty-nine,” Jimox mumbled. “More ghosts to add to the thirty or so on our tail.”
Teina chuckled as she pulled a little spyglass from her handle-bar bag.
Jimox kept watch to the rear and sides, and while doing so, made sure his pistol was fully loaded.
“A small grocery store on the street . . .” she began, “sporting goods store across from it . . . restaurant on the pier is all smashed up . . . a little sandwich shop, I think, on the street . . . the usual burned-down houses . . . not much else.” She lowered the spyglass.
“Movement?”
“Just gulls. See what you can see.”
He took the spyglass and scanned the town. “I guess that pile of sticks was a boat marina once.”
“You could have fooled me.”
NEBADOR Book Eight: Witness 57
He snickered and continued scanning. “Dog! On the beach beyond the pier.”
“I see it,” she said, shielding her eyes from the bright clouds.
“Small and scrawny, shouldn’t give us much trouble. Appears to be alone.”
“Eating dead sea gulls.”
Jimox lowered the spyglass. “That’s what’s on the menu in this little town.”
A gift shop not far from the pier looked clean and dry inside, so Jimox got out his pry bar while Teina stood with her feet wide apart, facing the street and fingering the cylinder of her small revolver. A sea gull squawked at her from a lamp post that had been dark for more than five years. When she heard the snap of breaking metal behind her, she listened as Jimox opened the door, but kept her attention on the street.
“Clear and clean in the main shop,” he announced. “Okay, bikes are in.”
Teina backed in, letting the heavy glass door close behind her.
“Self-closing and only opens outward . . . my favorite kind. Sorry, doggy.
Monkey mammal is not on the menu today.”
Jimox used about a minute of their precious flashlight battery power to light every corner of the storeroom in back while Teina followed with gun drawn. From the good condition of the shop, and the absence of odor, they doubted anything lurked within, but knew they wouldn’t sleep until they were sure.
At least, nothing mortal lurked within.
As they unrolled sleeping bags, both caught glimpses of tiny shimmering lights or dark shadows in the corners and near the ceiling of the shop.
“Three or four resident ghosts, just curious so far,” Teina shared.
Jimox looked around. “I sense a tinge of anger.”
Teina nodded. “Scout the town? We’ve got plenty of daylight.”
“Yeah! Maybe something tasty for dinner . . .”
Over the next two hours, the travelers sampled all the services the little town had to offer. The chowder restaurant was just a ruin, and the grocery store had been fouled and picked clean by birds entering through a broken
NEBADOR Book Eight: Witness 58
window. The sandwich shop, however, appeared to be intact, so they propped open doors to air out the stench while they checked the rest of the buildings.
A growing troop of little shadows followed them, more felt than seen while the sun was up.
“Someone’s angry,” Teina said after shivering from the tingly feeling on the back of her neck. “More than we had following us this morning.”
“That’s what I was thinking. They must have called for reinforcements.”
She laughed while rubbing the dust off a window. “Just an office. No candy machine or anything.”
“The sandwich shop should be nicer-smelling by now.”
As they crossed the street, Jimox was pretty sure at least fifty ghosts followed.
Everything in the deli case had long before turned to worm food, then slowly dried. They knew from long experience not to touch the refrigerators and freezers, unless they planned to actually clean them out. But the back room of the little shop boasted a wide variety of canned foods neatly stacked on shelves.
“Whoopee!” Teina cheered, waving her arms. “We are RICH!”
Jimox glanced back toward the front windows, and revised his estimate upward. “A hundred now, I think. Luckily ghosts don’t eat much. I think this town must have been called Spookville. I’m gonna look at the map when we get back to camp.”
Teina laughed. “Spookville, original population four hundred something people, and a hundred ghosts.” She started putting her favorite foods into a box. “Mmmm, sweet goma beans!”
“Spookville,” Jimox took up the idea, “current population two people, and a hundred ghosts! Is that chocolate pudding?”
“Yep! And look at this — apple sauce for breakfast!”
NEBADOR Book Eight: Witness 59
By the time Jimox and Teina had feasted and were lounging on their sleeping bags in the gift shop, evening light was beginning to fade from the sky. The map said they were in Gibson’s Bay, but they had no idea who Gibson might have been. They were, however, starting to think that more than a hundred ghosts were haunting the former fishing village.
“Hey!” Jimox said. “We can sit by the window and read books by ghost-light!”
Teina laughed deeply. “We tried that once to save candles, remember? It didn’t work.”
He grinned, then crawled to the front door and pressed his face against the glass. “What d’ya think? Three hundred?”
“WHY are there three hundred ghosts in Gibson’s Bay, previous population only four hundred something?” she asked. “Only a few left home with us.”
“I don’t know! We’ve been picking up more every day. They must like us.”
Teina joined Jimox at the glass door. Outside in the near-darkness, more red-tinged misty shapes constantly joined those already swirling in the street.
Sometimes they spilled out onto the pier, but the center of activity was clearly the little gift shop. “You’re right. It’s us. But WHY?”
Jimox shook his head. “I sense confusion, anger, and lots of frustration.
But it’s all vague, like they’re here because of us, but it’s not directed AT us . . .
you know . . . personally.”
Teina sighed. “At least they’re not coming in here. I just see the same four.”
His eyes opened wide. “This shop would get really full if all those ghosts
NEBADOR Book Eight: Witness 60
came in here! ”
Teina tried to relax on her sleeping bag, but was constantly aware of the ghostly shapes outside, and was beginning to think she could hear them as well, a low roaring sound mixed with moans and groans. She tried putting her fingers in her ears.
“I can hear them too,” Jimox said, licking his spoon clean and putting away his can opener.
She gave up on fingers in her ears. “We’re not gonna get any sleep, are we?”
He looked outside again. “Nope.”
An hour later, both young monkey mammals sat at the glass window, looking out at the night sky swarming with six or seven hundred angry spirits.
They had already discussed everything they knew about ghosts from their childhoods, what they had figured out by watching and listening over the last five years, and what little they had been able to read in books.
“Unfinished business?” Teina posed.
“In Gibson’s Bay? What business?”
She shook her head.
“Seeking justice after being murdered?” he tossed out.
“All of them?” she asked in reply. “And what are we supposed to do about it?”
He
shrugged.
After a long silence, filled only by the soft roar of hundreds of angry ghosts swirling through the little sea-side town, Teina took a slow, deep breath. “I think we should tell them.”
“Tell
them
what?”
“Everything we’ve been saying.”
NEBADOR Book Eight: Witness 61
He thought for a moment. “Worth a try, I guess.”
They stood in the middle of the dark street full of ghostly forms, held hands and tails, and trembled. A huge swarm of buzzing anger and resentment swirled around them on all sides.
“Where should I start?” Teina asked.
“I don’t know. But we can’t back out now.”
“No. Then they would come into the gift shop and drive us nuts. I’m thinking.”
“Maybe just . . . you know . . . let them know we hear them.”
Teina, who had once been an ordinary six-year-old girl, and in the years since then had found strength in herself she never imagined she had, took a deep breath, cupped her hands around her mouth to amplify her voice, and spoke to the angry souls swirling around them. “WE . . . HEAR . . . YOU!”
The reaction was immediate. The swarm of ghosts slowed, quieted, and softened their color from angry red to a slightly less threatening red-orange.
“Want me to do one?” Jimox asked.
“Sure.”
He cupped his hands. “WE . . . FEEL . . . YOUR . . . ANGER!”
Again, the ghosts slowed and quieted, and became merely orange with frustration.
“I think they’re getting interested,” Teina said, “and I think I know what I want to say next.”
He squeezed her tail with his.
“WE . . . DIDN’T . . . DO . . . IT!” she called loudly and clearly.
“WE . . . DIDN’T . . . EITHER!” boomed a thousand irritated voices all at once, sending the two young monkey mammals stumbling backward across the street until they landed in the gutter in front of the gift shop.
Teina and Jimox whimpered in each other’s arms for several minutes as they slowly collected their wits and carefully determined that neither of them had broken any bones. Scrapes and bruises, however, were plentiful and tender.
The only good part was that the host of angry spirits was no longer
NEBADOR Book Eight: Witness 62
swirling around their heads. All the frustrated ghosts were still present in the village, but seemed to be waiting for something, and while waiting, were slowly moving around the pier and the grocery store, as much as around the two travelers.
Jimox was in favor of getting inside and tending their wounds.
Teina wasn’t ready to do that, and wore a thoughtful frown. Eventually she spoke her mind. “They said We didn’t either. They feel guilty.”
“But we’re a thousand miles from the Gosa Desert and that secret germ-warfare lab!”
“It doesn’t matter. For some reason, they feel guilty.”
“Okay, I see your point. Maybe it’s just because they voted for the last president, who pushed every military thing he could think of, including . . .
you know.”
“I want to talk to them again.”
Jimox raised his eyebrows.
“But this time, we’ll be ready for their reaction.”
“You want me to get sand bags and concrete blocks?”
She punched him lightly in the shoulder.
“Ouch! That’s one of my bruises!”
“Sorry. Would you stand behind me, feet planted like we’re expecting a wave on the beach?”
“You got it. I still think a few sand bags might be a good idea.”
She grinned at him, and he grinned back.
Teina walked bravely back to the middle of the street.
Jimox got behind her.
She cupped her hands. “I . . . WANT . . . TO . . . ASK . . . YOU . . .
SOMETHING!”
The thousand or more sparkling orange lights resumed swarming around the two little monkey mammals.
“Get ready,” she whispered to Jimox. “DID . . . YOU . . . MAKE . . . THE
. . . PLAGUE?”
“NO!” came a ghostly wind that threatened to return the travelers to the gutter.
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With Jimox’ help, Teina held her ground. “THEN . . . YOU . . . HAVE . . .
NOTHING . . . TO FEEL . . . GUILTY . . . ABOUT!”
The young mortals were amazed at the change. The swirling horde lost most of its anger and frustration, with only a slight tinge of yellow confusion remaining. They ceased swirling, and nearly stopped all motion, as if waiting and listening.
“Wow,” she breathed.
To his eyes, she looked exhausted. “Want me to take your idea a step further?”
“Sure. I’m out of ideas.”
“I . . . AM . . . JIMOX. THIS . . . IS . . . TEINA. TO . . . US . . . YOU . . . ARE
. . . INNOCENT . . . AND . . . FREE!”
The host of spirits let out a huge sigh of relief that almost knocked the two monkey mammals off their feet, then rose into the sky while turning a beautiful blue color. Slowly, they vanished into the dark clouds.
After a long minute of silence, as they stood alone in the street and tried to catch their breath, Teina finally found her voice. “Shall we go dig out our first-aid ointment?”
“Yeah.”
Teina coughed deeply and reached for her water bottle. Jimox rubbed her back tenderly.
A large bird whizzed by in a child’s wagon, pushed by a blue lizard. “My turn!” the reptile called, nearly out of breath.
Jimox glanced at the passing pair of friends, a gleam of pride in his old eyes. “Not all the ghosts left Gibson’s Bay, you have to understand.”
“We already knew all the normal reasons ghosts haunt places,” Teina explained. “Some of those were still there, including the handful in the gift shop.”
“But . . .” Mati pondered, “those weren’t so angry?”
“Right,” Jimox verified. “They were just stuck, for one reason or another.
The old lady who ran the place, whose husband had died two years before the plague, didn’t watch the news so she didn’t really know what was going on, but she just couldn’t imagine doing anything but running her little shop. She
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was stuck.
“After
the
thousand left, the local ghosts, about a dozen of them, started talking to us. Actually, only some of them could talk loud enough for us to hear, but they could all talk to each other, so they relayed messages. Lots of little personal stories, and some were able to move on after we listened to them, but nothing that added to our understanding of what had happened six years earlier.”
Teina nodded. “We’ll always remember Gibson’s Bay, and we’ve marked part of it for preservation, because that’s where we learned the second of our four life purposes.”
“The first was being witnesses, and keeping journals,” Sata remembered.
Teina nodded and smiled at the young response-ship crew member.
“We’ve had missions,” Boro began, “where we didn’t have the foggiest idea what we were doing for a long time!”
Teina coughed again. “Please tell us about one. We’re all talked out.”
Jimox
nodded.
“Lyceum?” Boro proposed, glancing at his shipmates.
They all nodded or grinned.
“We had just gotten this advanced training supervisor, one mission before, who loved to let us figure out everything for ourselves . . .”
