If this was a classic movie from my childhood I'd head to the nearest phone booth, and start flipping through the massive directory book. (I didn't get to watch many new releases as a kid. Mostly it was whatever my dad could shoplift from Blockbuster. Wow, I really miss that place. I wonder if there's a Blockbuster location in the afterlife. It would make sense, right?) However, since this was the age of the internet I would need to try my luck with a public computer.
Charli looked up at the moon. We had been sitting in the parking lot of a doughnut place (no, not a Tim Hortons, that would have been too simple, bordering on cliche.) "What now? We can't exactly go back to your hometown."
I stood up, taking a walk in the immediate area. I was looking around for signage; hospitals, colleges, high traffic locations that would have free wifi, and unlocked phones. I could see there was a library not too far from where we had landed. "We can head to the library."
Charli moved closer, gliding on the wind. "Well, what if everything's powered off?" Her intentions were more skewed towards pleasure than work.
"Then we go someplace else. It's not like we're on a time crunch."
Charli looked at me, confused. "We're not on a time crunch?"
"If my killers fleed the country we could always find them later."
"And if your cop friend gets deported to stand trial in their place?"
"I'm hopeful that his current condition will afford him some time. And I mean really, do you honestly think the government is going to push for the return of a suspect who'd likely die before reaching trial?"
"Not for a First Nation girl." Charli rested her head on my shoulder. "I'd say he has at least a few years, but certainly not an infinite amount of time."
"True," I turned to kiss her cheek. For a moment I was able to take in the smell of her hair. "You smell like coffee with cream."
"Let's try to find this library."
The plain white, single-story building was not too difficult to find. As expected the building was dark, but not completely powered off. "I think I see a security system." I phased through the doors of the closed library, like a typical ghost. (I assumed Charli was following behind me.)
"Oh," she said as she walked towards the information desk. "You're going to ride the current to find a way into the network." She stroked the security sensor by the door to see if her spectral presence would set off any alarms. There was no immediate reaction. "Hum?"
I didn't expect her to go first. I approached a counter, which housed a typical desktop PC. I reached my hand to the power button, with thoughts of Randell Fish. Where did he live? Where did he work? Where did he sleep? I could picture everything I wanted to do to him; make him live through every painful moment. Maybe I could possess a knife or even reach my ghostly hand inside of his body cavity and rip out his organs piece by piece. I felt a rush of energy; anger passion, and then a loud explosion. I shut my eyes. Not out of pain but out of embarrassment (if I did, in fact, break this poor little building's network router.) "Charli? How bad is it?"
"Not too bad," she said with a giggle. "Seriously, all you did was crack the screen. Not a big deal. They probably have a spare one in the janitor closet."
I opened my eyes, flinching, anticipating the worst. Judging by the sparks and smoke, I appeared to have blown up the machine using only my rage. Lesson learned: I needed to maintain better control. "Ok, moving to the next computer."
I could feel a steady flow of electric power, wash over me, as I pushed the start button on the PC tower. "Think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts," I said out loud, attempting to find a happy thought to focus on. "Happiness, joy, love, um… childhood?" What did I like about my childhood? "School…" Without touching the keyboard I managed to turn on the screen and navigate to Facebook. 'How common of a name was Fish?'
"Search, Fish, Saskatchewan," I said out loud. The computer filled in the request bar to my will.
Randell Fish was the father of a former judge, the very judge who sent my uncle to jail. 'Could I focus on that?' It was worth a try. "Search deceased Canadian judges with the last name 'Fish.'"
Google returned an answer: Judge Sophia Rosalinda Fish- Ryder. Apparently, Randell Fish had lost a daughter and a very successful one at that. Her memorial page was covered in graduation pictures; high school, college, various awards, law school, and of course getting sworn in as a judge. Her husband and children were by her side; she had a family, Randell Fish's family. Jordan Fish-Ryder, a Sophomore at a boarding school in Boston, and little Tanya.
Tanya was only nine years old and still went to school in-state. Part of me wondered if she went to the same school as I did, but of course not. She went to a posh K-8 private school, in the most beautiful part of Northern Canada. I would find her and I would follow her home. "Power down," I said out loud as I moved my hand backward.
Charli leaned against the desk, giving me slow applause. "Impressive."
"Thanks, I guess."
"So now what?"
"Now, I guess we find his extended family." My mind was no longer filled with malice. There was the possibility the family of the late Judge Fish. "Maybe his non-redneck family has a nice house."
"I hear you." Charli came closer, putting her arm around my waist. "Let's see how many dishes we can break before they call an exorcist."
Under the light of the moon, we took a walk. The world seemed to be frozen over, like an arctic wasteland. I had no idea if we were even going the right way. (It wasn't like we had a map.) I was going off of my memories of various neighborhoods. I was a streetwalker; I knew the roads by heart.
By the light of the moon, I could hear the wind, but it sounded odd. Instead of a soft whisper, it was like a chorus of voices, set to the beat of a tribal drum. "You really think you can do this, little girl?"
"She's young, of course, she does."
"The young ones always think they can change the future."
All the voices sounded like elderly females, judgemental aunties, and grandmothers. The mocking was followed by laughter, so much laughter.
"What's your problem!" I shouted at the starry night sky.
Charli gripped my hand, she pulled me close for a long tender kiss. "Let the haters hate."
"They're not haters, they're my ancestors."
"Ancestors can be haters."
She wasn't wrong. Charli certainly had a grandma, nonna, auntie, or whatever (any word for an elder who will lovingly treat you like a kitten made of glass.) Nothing is ever good enough for them, they always know better, and of course 'back in their day,' life was so much harder.
"You actually think you can find peace?" Asked one star, pulsating in the sky.
"I'm looking for justice," I replied, squeezing Charli's hand.
"Justice?" That got a lot more laughter.
Charli patted my back, holding me in a partial hug as we continued to walk. "Let them talk. They can't help us, so they just want to see us fail."
Yeah, that felt right. "Screw you all!" I shouted like an overly emotional teenager. "I can do this all on my own!" (With Charli, of course.)
Suddenly a single beam of light seemed to cut across the sky like a shooting star. "Come on, ladies, we're better than this." The voice was American.
Charli raised her hand to her forehead as if she could possibly see through the darkness. "Is it just me or does she sound like a cheerleader?"
"No, more like a teacher." But one thing was clear; she was not a typical Canadian murder victim. "Thank you," I said to the voice, wiping tears from my eyes. "I'm Tia what's your name?" I wondered if she was one of the victims of the Highway of Tears (a place infamous for its history of missing women of various ages and nationalities.)
The sky went dark as the shooting star launched itself straight at a lamppost. This was not your ordinary lap post, but the kind meant to point people to the nearest rest stop. It glowed with heavenly light; a UFO sent down to gift us wisdom in the voice of a mystery girl.
If I was to guess, she sounded like an African American teenager from the midwest. She was proud, educated, someone who likely got killed NOT for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but because she was too wise for this world.
The lamp seemed to shimmer for a moment. Sparks rained down, before going dark again. Neither Charli nor I flinched (we were dead, there was no danger of second-degree burns.) It actually looked like silver glitter or even starlight. I reached my hand upwards, just to see what would happen.
"So what now?" I asked. Two pieces of metallic glitter landed on my thumb and pinky. I pressed them together causing a small firework to erupt.
"Sh!" Charli placed her finger to my lips. "Someone one's here."
"How can you tell?"
"There's a darkness, a sadness." She looked around, to see if that amounted to anything visible.
I was actually a little scared. Was this a powerful ghost? An angry ghost? Was the innocent young voice just a mask hiding something actually evil? Suddenly, a girl stepped out from the shadows.
"Hi, I'm Vena." In her ghost form, Vena was small like me, but she wore a recognizable military uniform. Her camo fatigues were covered in dust. Yet her black hair, pulled back in a military-approved bun highlighted her sweet smile. Vena held out her hand, leaning forward with a slight bow.
"You're a soldier?" Chari asked, with a measure of confusion.
"Do you have a problem with that?" asked the small girl. If this was the same height she was in life, she was apparently used to having to justify her existence to taller people.
"No," Charli looked at Vena, examining her like a statue. "It's just hard to believe an American soldier was murdered in Canada."
"Black, American female," Vena pointed out. "But you're right, I wasn't killed here, I was actually born around here." She turned her attention to me, possibly to be able to speak to someone without having to look upward. "So, where are you headed?"
I had been frozen in place, but hearing her kind, friendly voice allowed me to fully relax. "Up north, to St. Unity Academic Prep school."
Charli gripped my wrist. "You didn't tell me that."
"I told you what city we're headed to. I thought you knew about the prep school?" According to my limited social media research, that was where we might be able to find my killer's granddaughter. Even if he was an evil man, all grandfathers held a special place in their hearts for the innocence of their grandchildren. Or at least that's what I hoped. (It could be just a cultural thing.)
"I can walk with you for a while," Vena offered. "Maybe show you the way."
"Thanks," I said, finally shaking her hand. "I'd like that." I had no doubt she knew the way. She seemed like an old soul, a spirit who wandered for years longer than I had.
Vena nodded, whispering something meant only for me to hear, "It's been a while since I had a friend."
"Yeah," I turned to Charli who was already walking ahead of us like an embarrassed older sister. "Same here."
I already felt a bond with Vena. Something told me that she did not die in a way that took down hundreds of innocent victims (at least not out of spite.)
We walked like childhood friends, jumping, skipping, with the occasional cartwheel. "So where are you from, Vena?"
"Missouri," Vena said as she pretended to walk along the sidewalk ledge like a balance beam, ending with a backflip.
"Wow, so you're from around St. Louis?" I asked, feeling happier than I had in a while.
Charli stopped, gripping Vena by the arm. "I thought you said you were from around here?" She asked, making sure to do air quotes for the last two words.
"I was born in northern Michigan, but I moved to St. Louis county when I was six." Vena gripped Charli's hand. She was offended. This was very bad.
I got between them, flashing an overly enthusiastic smile. "That's the place with the arch, right? That must have been so cool!"
Charli rolled her eyes and threw up her hands. "Whatever."
Vena flipped her off. "Yeah, the Gateway Arch is pretty cool, I guess but after seeing it all your life it just looks like any other tourist trap." Vena made a small jump onto a new ledge. "Probably why I died where I did."
"You died in combat?" That seemed to be the logical answer. She looked seventeen, maybe eighteen-years-old. It was not out of the realm of possibility for her to have gotten deployed immediately after basic training. Or maybe that was just the narrative I wanted for her; to have died a hero, in a place far from home.
"Sorta," she said with a shrug. Vena gripped my hand, forcing me to walk with her, staying a good twenty feet behind Charli.
"What does that mean?" I leaned in close, in case she was planning on whispering.
"I was at odds with a very powerful man in my chain of command. I stood my ground, fought with everything I had but in the end I lost."
"You lost," my voice drifted off.
"I was murdered." Vena started to glow. Her eyes went from yellow to orange with flickers of red. "Such fucking bullshit if you ask me," her voice went softer. Her cheeks were sparkling with tears. "The army covered up everything. They told my family it was a suicide." Vena's body rippled with energy. "Yeah, I worked my ass off to serve my country. I volunteered for deployment. And they had to do me like that?" Her body turned to static, "Suicide."
"What can you do?" I reached for her hand, hoping to siphon away some of the negative energy.
Vena took a calming breath. She stopped walking. standing at attention, she raised a single finger, and in an impressive show of strength, she focused her static until her form looked human again. Clearly, she was able to control her ghost-energy superpowers better than I was. "You're right, it was a while ago." She started to skip and even did a spin on one foot.
"That was cringe. I'm so sorry."
"They told my poor father, that somehow I put an AK-47 in my mouth. And I did this while naked during the one time of day my roommates would not be in."
Charli started to walk back to where we were. "You shot yourself while naked? In a deployment zone?"
Vena nodded. "It's hilarious when you think about it. It's like something out of a damn movie."
Now that all of us were laughing, Vena took my hand and we both sat for a moment. "They shipped my body home with gloves glued to my hands, so no autopsy could be done to prove or disprove gunshot residue."
Charli's investigative curiosity took over. "The powerful people assumed your family would just move on. Did they at least offer to give your parents your life insurance payout?"
"For what it's worth." Vena chuckled at the thought. "We're all required to fill out life instance paperwork during basic training. A bunch of kids fresh out of high school (some older, of course,) getting a 'you're going to die, and when you do we want to know who you'd like to receive a prize' form. I remember it was just an ordinary piece of paper. I imagine some places do it on computers now."
"The big prize," Charli said with a laugh. "Did you ever see the meme about the army recruiter?"
"The text message," Vena replied with a smirk. "I think that screenshot went viral after my death, but yeah I've seen it. Some recruiter sends out a 'Hey, I got your name from your high school graduation records. Have you ever considered a career in the Army?' And then the guy replies something like, 'No thanks, I hate this country.' And instead of getting mad or even offended the recruiter replies with, 'If you join the army you'll have plenty of opportunities to leave the country.'" Vena laughed, her voice filled with true, innocent joy.
"Never underestimate the US Army," I muttered.
Vena held my hand, releasing dark purple energy. "Yeah, well they sure as Hell underestimated my daddy."
This was my invitation to look deeper into her soul. I easily absorbed the anger and trauma, but with it came memories. Vena's parents had to fight for every piece of evidence, every 'classified' document, name, and image. "Are your parents still fighting the military?"
"Yeah, it's been over ten years but I know my daddy will keep fighting until his last breath. I guess that's why I'm still here."
"In northern Canada?" I asked. She had never really explained how she had such a strong connection to this land.
"In the in-between," Vena explained. "I can't get to heaven, hell, or even be reborn. But when my dad does take his last breath, I'll be at his side. Maybe I'll even get to walk with him to the light."
My hands trembled, glowing with cold blue energy. I pictured Jay. Would he be waiting for me on the other side?
"Sorry," Vena said, gripping my hand. "Blue energy means sadness. I apologize for hitting a sore subject."
I nodded, but I was not ready to talk to her about my relationship with my dad or the loss of my cop friend. Both would only result in more blue energy until my spirit was too frozen to move. I needed a reason to smile. "Do either of you know the joke about Hell?"
Charli raised an eyebrow. "You're going to need to be more specific."
"I know," Vena added. "I mean I could give you my top 10, but I have a feeling you had a specific one in mind."
I giggled at my own awkwardness. Of course, there was more than one joke about Heaven and Hell. "Ok, well here's my favorite. A tribal leader is about to be burned to death by the Spanish army. The executioner asks if he'd like to accept Christ, for a chance at Heaven." This was the part of the joke that was often morphed into other versions. If someone is already doomed, what's the harm in accepting Jesus into your life? Although I'm sure Jesus would not want his love forced upon people (especially by executioners.) "The tribal leader asked, 'Does your kind go to heaven?' The Spaniard replied, with a tall proud stance, 'Of course!' So the tribal leader (who I assume was speaking through a translator,) says, 'Well, in that case, I think I'll take my chances in Hell."
Vena doubled over with laughter. "Oh, God, that is so true!"
Charli groaned, "That joke never gets old."
I got back up, continuing on our walk. "Well, you don't have to be a bitch about it."
Vena joined me, walking by my side. Her ghostly skin glowed with a calm golden hue. "I have no doubt that my killer is going to die peacefully surrounded by family maybe even a priest offering him absolution." She went from laughter to slight tears. "Maybe then he'll confess his sins and my family can finally have some closure."
"Maybe, we can always hope."
"People like to cling to the old story of Jesus and the other two people who were crucified the same day."
"I love that story; one guy was trolling Jesus, 'if you're the son of God why can't you save yourself.' Which is such a dick move. But then the other guy just said, 'I wish to sit at your table.' He wanted to die with faith in his heart."
"Some assholes take that to mean; 'as long as I repent on my death bed, all is forgiven.' Part of me hopes that's not true. But part of me does."
"Yeah."
"I guess that's my cross to bear." She looked down at her feet, then up at an elaborate metal gate. "Anyway, we're here."
"We're where?"
"The boarding school."
I looked up, she was correct. We were already here.
"Best of luck Tia."
"Thank you." Hanging out with Vena secured the validity of my plan. The system was against us, protecting the big strong men who took our lives. Only when the overly important bastards admit to their sins could we, the victims, hope to move on.
"You too, Charli," Vena shouted.
My red-haired friend was so far behind us, I could barely make out her tall slender figure coming down the road. The moon was high in the sky. I took a seat to wait for her.
"So is this a boarding school or a prep school?" Charli asked. She sat on the pavement by my side, leaning against my back.
"It's an exclusive Catholic school," I replied.
"Yeah, I've figured that part."
"We'll know more when morning comes." I had a feeling it wasn't a boarding school. (Although sending their children away seemed to be something the Fish family would be inclined to do.) No, this place was empty and would remain so until the faculty arrived.
We stayed outside the gate, watching the sunrise. Neither of us slept, but I couldn't help but become relaxed. I leaned close, holding her hand. "I really do love you."
"More than Vena?"
"Of course not, Vena's awesome."
Charli slugged my arm. "You suck," she said with a flirty smile.
"So do you." I kissed her cheek. Then with my opposite hand, I turned her face. Our lips met. "Try to get some rest." I closed my eyes and together we finally indulged in the simple serene beauty of sleep.
By the first light of morning, the parents started to arrive, dropping their children off at the security checkpoint. Thankfully I had awoken with the arrival of the faculty; luxury SUV after luxury SUV, with possibly a BMW or Tesla in the mix.
A security guard sat in a booth, nursing a cup of coffee. He was checking in all students, one by one. The process was slow and eventually, there was a line of at least ten expensive cars waiting to drop off their children. I just had to wait for the name.
I took a seat in the security guard's booth. He had a held-held computer that he used to look up names. Some people offered up ID cards that could easily be scanned like a candy bar in a grocery store's self check out lane. I assumed those people were faculty but some appear to be high school students.
"Why do only certain people show ID?" I asked out loud.
Charli appeared by my side. "Those are parking passes."
"That actually makes a lot of sense." I suddenly turned to see a man wearing a suit, driving a neon red Mercedes. The car was the color of Charli's hair; light red, boarding on orange. On her, it looked sexy, radiant, but this car looked like a children's toy (or something out of a Disney movie.)
"Adam Ryder signing in Tanya Elizabeth Fish-Ryder?" He didn't get out of the car but the guard typed the name into his tablet.
"Bye, Daddy!"
"Tanya?" I found myself drawn to her.