Purgatech: Adrian's Ghost-hunting Angst

Chapter Three: Green Grass

Adrian Beck knew that there were the good times and the bad times that came with everything in life. The good times for him involved waking up in the morning, having a cigarette while Eliza cooked his breakfast, when finished he would get behind his paper, read the news of the week that found its way into the publication and then he would eat. A pot of coffee shared between them, talking nonsense while watching various television shows or game shows, playing along to see who would win and who wouldn’t, had the pair been in the situation, and then a mid-morning erotic session, where all throughout they would talk, joke and laugh until they completed.

This was his usual Saturday morning; a good time.

Today was different. The weight of the old hag as he came to call it after the article he read since witch no longer seemed appropriate, had pressed down against his mind, weighing every thought and action down to such a point where he couldn’t think straight, had it not been directly on the matter of her.

Adrian’s morning started with a cigarette, as it had every morning, a habit he wanted to kick but every time he tried, he bought a gadget that didn’t seem to quite cut it. His most recent, a vaporizer, came close until the stress of work pushed down against him and he felt nearly forced to buy a box and burn through it in the first six hours of work.

He sat behind his computer, one leg crossed over the other. Today his laziness seemed to still, pulling from the drawer the mouse to make it a smoother action when trying to work. He checked his inbox, hoping that a message from Smithy had come through but there was nothing. He almost also wanted to see another from Purgatech; again there was nothing.

So Adrian sat back in his chair. He closed his eyes and tried to think about his life. He tried to come to terms with what he had seen and what he had done that brought him to the point where he was today:

“Come on, Tommy,”Adrian called, running down the hall. His mother was in the kitchen preparing dinner. It was a warm summer evening, with clouds looming in the distance, threatening rain. Adrian had spent a good deal of time with Tommy and his mother knew it to be his imaginary friend. He struggled to make friends in school but doctors had said that his creative mind would lead him to great things and a symptom of such creativity was the overactive imaginary friendships and bond that came with it. Some of them, he would have all his life, the doctor claimed. Adrian’s mother was never sure if she could get behind the idea. If she was willing to accept that her son would forever talk to the wall and pretend it was a person, slap a power point on the computer, pretending that he was another superhero that could save the day.

She had to, though. Eventually, she had to.

Adrian ran with Tommy until the boys were outside, in the garden.

“What’s that you got there?” Tommy asked, pointing at Adrian’s hand.

“It’s a gem, it’s used to defeat the evil wizard.”

Adrian recalled the memory well. He remembered Tommy, a boy the same age as he at around ten. Much like the old hag, Tommy was different than his various imaginary friends who he had to give dialogue. He considered that this was just another one of the more powerful imaginations he constructed and that he processed the thoughts so quickly, that it was as if Tommy was speaking on his own. Adrian now, believed this to be different, but still, he was too smart to get trapped behind the wall of ghost belief. It was just too farfetched, wasn’t it?

Adrian was an atheist, often proud to call himself one to the bible bashers that shamed him in the community, so the thought and belief in spirits were not one that he could believe in. Believing in a spirit was believing in a higher being, he considered, but something about the memory of Tommy, the memory of the old hag and seeing her again recently, was all just too much for him. He sat in silence for a while, trying again to get another bout of memory to strike, but nothing would come.

“Breakfast,” Eliza called, a deep sigh rolling through Adrian. Not for breakfast, he was very much looking forward to his morning meal, but more because it seemed that the last thought that was going to come to him was going to be that of Tommy. At least for now.

And so he got up from his desk chair and headed towards the kitchen, where his meal had been placed in front of him with a cup of coffee, the paper beside.

“Are you alright, babe?” Eliza asked, scooping the last egg into his plate.

“I’m not sure. I don’t really know how to talk about it, either.” Adrian replied, taking a seat, looking at the paper. It was crumpled and used, Eliza having probably already read it.

“Anything happening in the world today?” He asked, grabbing a piece of toast and biting down into it.

“Yes.” Adrian noticed almost immediately that Eliza’s mood shifted, “I don’t know how you’re going to take it though.”

Adrian lifted the newspaper, his eyes not moving away from Eliza, “What do you mean?”

“Just read,” Eliza replied and Adrian followed instruction, opening the paper and on the first page, a picture of Roland Dean stood. Adrian knew Roland well. He was a man that had given the young trio of boys hope, years before when their friend Alex Fulton died in the Evergreen Manor:

Roland Dean, a detective who had spent his life working on the mysterious death's that took place at Evergreen Manor, died today at the age of 77. A great man, beloved by his community for his works as a philanthropist, often holding fundraisers for charities and community projects through his department, Detective Dean took his life on Friday evening.

A note left on the table beside him, reading of his failures, had wished he could have done more to save the children that were lost to Evergreen Manor. His own daughter had been a victim in the brutal murders, years before.

Adrian continued reading the article but as he did he began to remember. He remembered his friend, Alex Fulton, who went up to Evergreen Manor one night with Brad Rhodes, Johnny Vasquez and Tommy. The only reason Adrian knew about the ordeal was that of Tommy who had come back and told him of it. Piecing the memory together, he always remembered that the next day, it was Brad who told him the story.

The boys had gone into Evergreen Manor with the hopes of getting Alex Fulton to spend the night on a dare, and they succeeded.

“At the stroke of midnight, you’ll get a big fright, on the eve of twelfth night, at the stroke of midnight,” Adrian muttered, his mind filling with the perplexities of his youth, this one always sticking to him like a cancer.

Detective Dean was one of the first officers on scene, as he had taken the case shortly after his own daughter was taken by the room. Brad, Johnny, and Tommy were all with Adrian, peering into the room. Alex, who had entered the Manor in jeans and a t-shirt, had been sitting in a tailored tux, a glass of whiskey in his hand, a cigarette lit as though he had just been smoking it between his fingers, eyes open as if he was in deep contemplation.

The scene was forgotten for many years, by Adrian. He knew that if he remembered it, he would have surely gone insane. Detective Dean vowed that he would find the killer of the children that had been claimed by the room in Evergreen Manor.

“What was that?” Eliza asked. Adrian snapped back from the thought of the incident. He hadn’t realized that he had mumbled the old saying out loud.

“It was a rhyme. I don’t know if you ever knew it. You were a little older when you came down to Evergreen.” Adrian spoke, getting up from the seat, dropping the slice of toast that had a bite from it and walked to the kitchen door, lighting a smoke.

The only room he could condone smoking in would be his study. No one else entered the room but him, so there was no need to keep up the pretense, but Adrian would not dare smoke anywhere else in the house. Eliza didn’t mind, she was a smoker herself. She would often light a cigarette while they watched a movie or after they finished their mid-Saturday morning session, in bed.

Adrian would rather step outside and take in some fresh air, while he killed his lungs even more.

“At the stroke of midnight, you’ll get a big fright, on the eve of twelfth night, at the stroke of midnight.” He repeated the rhyme, “Evergreen Manor was the Candy Man of Evergreen. We would chant it while we walked down the street. It would scare some of the kids, you know how kids are.” Adrian knew that his thoughts were all over the place but he also knew why. Roland Dean was meant to be the saving grace to those who were murdered at Evergreen Manor, with all the peculiarities that surrounded it. Adrian considered what this could have meant. He considered that this was just another bizarre coincidence, but what if it wasn’t? What if there really was such a thing as ghosts?

“I want to talk to you about something.” Adrian said. Eliza knew that he was upset about something. She grabbed a cigarette from a box, walked outside the kitchen door and onto the grass.

“What is it?” She looked around their garden, comfortably swaying from side to side. A nervous habit.

“I know you believe in the supernatural but I never have. There’s been a lot of weird stuff that’s happened to me lately and I don’t know how to deal with it. I spoke to a representative for a company last night. They’re looking for early trial users to test products that they claim can have you seeing ghosts and s**t. I want to talk to you about it and want to know what you think.” Eliza fell down, knowing that the situation wasn’t as serious as she initially believed, she let out a relaxed breath.

“Well, what’s been going on?” She asked.

“When I was a child I had a good imagination. So good that I believed my imaginary friends could take on lives, looks, and personalities of their own. Last night I saw a woman. A woman that I remember seeing as a child while we were at the bar. She was in the crowd and before I could give her a good look she was gone. Now this whole thing with Roland Dean, Alex Fulton, and Tommy.” Adrian started.

“Tommy?” Eliza questioned.

“Yes. He was there the night that Alex Fulton was killed. I remember it clearly that he came and spoke to me about it. He was another imaginary friend. I figured, later on in life, that another one of my friends must have told me about the incident and I put it on as though it was my imaginary friend but the more I think about it, the more I can’t get away from the idea that ghosts might be real.”

Eliza gestured that Adrian come sit with her and so he did. He fell beside her and the earth seemed to shake.

“Look, if you think you need to do this then go ahead. It’s probably not even going to do anything anyway. Just know that I’m here for you and that I love you. I want you to be safe and make sure that you don’t get yourself into any trouble.” Eliza leaned in, kissing Adrian.

“Thanks, baby. I love you.” That was all Adrian needed. He got up and went back online to speak with a representative, planning the next available meeting.