“They have that in common.”
I huff.
Donny examines me with all-knowing eyes. “Is Bob feeling all right? That’s quite an injury for such a small fellow.”
“The pain pills are helping, I think.” The fact that Donny cares enough to ask unwinds a knot in my chest. “Is it okay if he sniffs around in here? I can pick him up.”
“The tiny warrior is welcome to explore.”
Bob examines the pile of papers, his cone snagging on the corner of a piece of paper, which seems to piss him off.
Donny gestures at the chair across from him, taking a sip from a mug that readsWORLD’S OKAYEST GHOST HUNTERin blocky letters. “Have a seat. Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?”
I almost say no—why do I always default to ‘no’ whenever anyone asks if they can get me anything?—but maybe my body can sense I’m out of immediate danger now, because all the adrenaline is leaking out of me and I’m having a hard time keeping my eyes open.
“Coffee sounds awesome,” I say, sinking into a very soft green armchair. “If it’s not too much trouble.”
“Not at all.”
He puts a Keurig pod into the machine on his bookshelf, and it lets out a protesting groan that makes Bob startle. Donny pats the machine like it’s his own cranky old dog as it gurgles to life.
“I really appreciate you giving me this opportunity,” I say, pulling the sleeves of my sweater over my hands.
Donny glances up from the machine, the creases around his eyes softening. “I had a feeling you’d call. Once an entity realizes you can sense them, they tend to get quite curious.”
Curious is one word for stabbing your hand through someone’s chest cavity.
“Not all spirits are out to harm you,” he says. “The reason spectral entities stay on Earth after death has been answered in different ways throughout history, but I’ve foundmost linger because of unfinished business, strong emotion, or trauma that anchors them here. They can’t move on, and most people can’t see them. So, when they encounter someone who can, some desire help.”
The woman in the library didn’t attack me.She just touched my cheek, like she was so desperate for someone to acknowledge she existed that the second she realized I could see her, she couldn’t help herself. It must be so scary to watch the world move on without you while you’re screaming for someone, anyone, to notice you’re still there.
“One came into my car last night,” I say. “That one definitely wanted to hurt me.”
Donny’s mouth tightens. “You were attacked again?”
I tell him about the hand coming up through the floor, the fingers plunging into my stomach, and the salt ring I’d tried to make.
“Ah,” Donny says, nodding. “A salt circle needs to be grounded, touching the ground or floor. Without that connection, it’s just… decorative tubing.”
Of course it does. Why would ghost-proofing be as simple as a Home Depot run and some duct tape?
“Please don’t be discouraged,” Donny adds. “Frankly, I’m impressed with your resourcefulness. I’ll teach you everything you need to know about proper containment protocols. You won’t be going into the field until you’re ready.”
That makes me feel a little less stupid, but it’s hard to feel good about myself when I still haven’t showered after vomiting all night.
“I was throwing up weird slime,” I say.
“Ectoplasm,” Donny says, and the coffee maker finishes with a sputtering groan.
I stop myself from snorting with laughter inappropriate for the situation. “Like inGhostbusters? That’s a real thing?”
“Very real, though lessgreenthan the films would have you believe.It’s a residue ghosts leave behind when they interact with the physical world. Considering you’re finished throwing up, most of it would have already purged from your system by now.”
Well, that’s disgusting. At least it’ll be gone soon.
“I couldn’t move when the ghost was looking at me,” I say. “Is that normal?”
“Eye contact creates a connection between you and the entity. They can use that connection to temporarily paralyze you, which is why we wear goggles. The lenses are designed to lessenthe effect of eye contact while still allowing us to see entities enough to work.”
