Chapter 6
As the van pulled into parking lot of the roadside McDonald’s, Ben got out to stretch his legs, while the others went to order their food.
An electronic hum came up behind him, followed by a voice. “How goes the ghost hunt?”
Ben turned to see Ian standing there, waving their fingers at him. His eyes were drawn to the embellishment upon their head.
“Oh, do we have an ‘e-meow-gency’ on our hands?” he asked, nodding to the cat ears.
Ian’s eyes lit up. “You remember my emotional support cat ears!” They adjusted their glasses and looked Ben up and down. “Great to see you, b-t-dubs. Magic has decreed we need to have someone here at all times, so it’s my turn.” They turned in a circle, surveying the area. “Always a nutritious meal when you’re on the road, huh?”
Ben chuckled. “I’ll survive.”
“Listen, that asylum you’re headed to…” Ian’s face turned serious.
“Sam Beckett leapt there once as a patient, right? Addison told me.”
Ian nodded. “Did you also know that was fifty-six years ago to the day?”
Ben raised an eyebrow. “Really? Neat coincidence.”
“Neat? More like creepy. You know how hauntings work. It’s always ‘on this very day twenty years ago’ and suddenly there’s a homicidal ghost out for revenge.”
“I think you may be getting real life confused with campy horror movies,” Ben said with a grin. “Relax. It’s nothing but an old, crumbling building in desperate need of condemnation. Ghosts aren’t real.”
“Oh, now you’ve done it,” Ian groaned. “You’re not meant to say that. You realise now you’re going to end up the first one pushed out a window by unseen forces, right?”
Ben waved a hand over the painted van. “You know what happens on Scooby-Doo? They always find out the ghost was a crooked property developer. It’s a good lesson about Occam’s Razor—simplest explanation is usually the correct one. There are plenty of mundane reasons weird stuff happens, Ian. Remember the demon? Just a combination of hallucinogens and Janis Calavicci hacking into our Imaging systems.”
“Honestly, for most people, the ‘simpler’ explanation would have been a demon,” Ian mused. “Look, all I’m saying is that there are some weird things afoot. Stay on your toes, and maybe collect a few salt packets from the restaurant just in case.”
“Salt?”
“Ghosts hate salt. I think. It’s, I dunno, purifying or something.” Ian shook their head. “That’s what Jenn says, anyway—and she went through an occult phase as a teen.”
Ben rolled his eyes and took a step towards the restaurant, but paused when he spotted a familiar figure through the window of a phone booth by the parking lot. “Huh. I wonder who Iris is calling?”
“You want me to eavesdrop?” Ian asked, holding up the handlink and hovering a finger over it.
Ben pressed his lips together. “Hmm. Only if you can do it without her noticing.”
“Oh, you know how much I like to blend into the scenery,” Ian said, flicking one of their cat ears. “I’ll snap back to you at the first sign of being noticed, okay?”
Ian’s holographic projection folded up, then re-emerged by the phone booth.
* * *
Ian leaned their ear into the booth carefully. Iris was facing the payphone, one hand on the handset and the other clenched around the cord, her blonde locks obscuring her face.
“Yeah, I know, I know. Of course I’m paying attention. I’ve… got eyes on the back of my head, okay?”
Well jeez, I hope that’s just a figure of speech, thought Ian, staring intensely at the back of the woman’s head.
“Give me a little credit. Of course I know what I’m—would you relax? You don’t have to worry so much. It’s not like it’s my first—” She moved a hand to her forehead. “I don’t know where it went, that’s what’s so strange. Why do you think I had to use a payphone?”
A beat, as she ran a hand through her hair.
“No, it’s just—I feel like I’m being watched… I don’t know, maybe it is a ghost… hey, come on, it’s not that ridiculous… well anyway, if anything happens, you’ll know where I was going… I know it is, but I’m just gonna have to face it head-on, right?”
She leaned her forehead against the phone. “Yeah. I miss you too,” she murmured. With that, she hung up the phone, took a deep breath, and turned around.
Ian froze in place.
Iris licked her lips, taking a moment to let her eyes move across the parking lot, taking everything in. They finally came to a stop at Ian, though it was more like she was looking through them than looking directly at them. She placed a hand on the glass, her expression tense and nervous.
“If there really is somebody watching me,” she said, swallowing, “I hope you’re here to help.”
She stepped out of the booth, passing the open-mouthed Ian, and began making her way towards the restaurant entrance.
“We are,” Ian said quietly. If Iris heard it, she didn’t give any indication.
* * *
Loaded with bags of fast food, the crew returned to the van, where Ian was waiting in the back seat.
Ben gave them a token glance of acknowledgement as he got in and buckled in to his seat. Across from him, Iris took her seat, and began unwrapping her cheeseburger.
“So,” Ben said with attempted nonchalance, “I saw you call someone at the payphone. Who was it?”
Iris tensed up. “Just Aunt Mel. Letting her know we’ve left her house in good shape.”
“That wasn’t quite the conversation I heard,” Ian said in a low voice.
“Oh, okay,” Ben said, eyes darting to Ian for a second before he decided to busy himself with his own food. “How is she? Aunt Mel?”
“She’s good.”
“She’s in hospice,” Ian countered, “literally dying of cancer.”
“I mean… she’s as good as a dying lady gets,” Iris corrected, and took a bite of her burger, looking the other way.
Ben exchanged a look with Ian.
“Well, that’s a plus,” he mumbled, filling his mouth with french fries.
“I don’t know who she was talking to,” Ian whispered, “but Ziggy may be able to figure it out. I’m gonna go tag out with Addison.”
Ben gave a slight nod, as Iris turned to the back seat, squinting.
“Something wrong?” Ben asked nervously.
Iris rubbed her eyes as she glared at the seat where Ian sat, now stiff and unmoving, their eyes wide.
“I don’t know… I just keep seeing something in the corner of my eye. But when I look, nothing’s there. It’s been happening all day.”
“Don’t tell me Uncle Walter’s coming with us to the haunted asylum?” Ben said, trying to deflect the conversation to a lighter mood. He figured the more he made it a running joke, the less likely Iris was to start to feel like she was losing it.
Iris groaned, her mouth curving into an amused smile. “Just what we need. Introducing one ghost to a bunch of other established ones like the new kid in school.”
“Maybe they’ll bully him into giving us our phones back.”
Iris looked at him with a smirk, cheeks puffed out with food. “We can hope.”
“Wish I could join in this banter,” Ian muttered, passing the handlink to Addison, who now sat next to them in the van.
“We have banter at home,” she said, the tip of her tongue protruding between her teeth as she grinned.
“See you later Ben—hope you remembered the salt,” Ian whispered before dematerialising from the van.
Ben took a bite of his Quarter Pounder, and chewed thoughtfully, staring out the window. There was no logical reason he should have had such a foreboding feeling about where they were going, but… well, there was only so much he could rationalise away.
Ben turned his attention to the car stereo; in the front seats, Joey and Alex had begun singing along to Bad Romance by Lady Gaga.
Eventually, Ben began singing along too. In his periphery, he was vaguely aware that Iris wasn’t, but he thought nothing of it.