Shirtwaist Ghosts Chapter 9

9

The Paranormal Posse met in front of the Harris building. “That’s new,” said Hector, pointing to the lighted Harris Building sign over the entrance.

Marcos knocked on the side entrance. No one answered. He turned and shrugged to the rest of the group. “Maybe he's running late.” Everyone set down their gear and waited.

Hector called Mr. Harris on his phone. No answer. They waited for forty-five minutes and still no one appeared to let them in to investigate.

“Maybe he forgot the day?” asked Bev.

“We confirmed the details several times,” Marcos said as he dialed the number one more time. “You don’t think something happened to him?”

“Nah.” Hector picked up his backpack. “Something came up or he forgot. I’m sorry, guys, this is totally beyond our control.”

“It happens,” Tony said. “Let’s go get a drink.”

As Marcos opened the door to Ruli's, Hector’s phone rang. “Hello, Mr. Harris?”

Hector motioned for the rest of the Posse to go on, then turned around and sat down at one of the outdoor tables. Tony groaned and Bev rolled her eyes.

“Well, of course he would call now,” Bev said.

“Come on, lets grab a table,” said Marcos.

Hector returned to the group ten minutes later and sat down in front of a frosty mug of beer. He took a sip.

“Well, what happened?” asked Marcos.

“We’re not investigating.”

“I think we figured that one out. Did he forget?”

“No, I mean we are not investigating, as in ever.”

“What the hell happened? He was all gung ho a couple of days ago.”

“From what I gathered, his father caught wind of the investigation and said ‘No way.’ Something about it being bad for business, the reputation of the building, the usual blah, blah, blah.”

“What did you say?”

“I told him this wasn’t going to show up on the news. We do private investigations all the time. He didn’t want to hear it.”

“Y-ho-le!”

“But, I did convince him to let us arrange a house blessing. I told him it might put the spirits at ease.”

“Do you have someone in mind for the blessing?”

“Yep, Father Eugenio. He's a friend of my family and he works as a chaplain at the University Medical Center downtown. Since its close, I'm hoping he can help us out on short notice.”

“When are we doing this?”

“Allen said the sooner the better so I told him tomorrow afternoon.” Hector faced Bev and Tony. “Sorry to waste your time like this.”

“Hey, there's beer and good company. Not a waste of time at all,” said Bev.

Hector raised his mug and everyone clinked their mugs together. “Here's to all the ghosts out there. May they rest in peace.”

Hector and Marcos met Father Eugenio outside the Harris Building the next afternoon.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” Hector said as he led him into the elevator.

“I told you this morning, it was no trouble at all. How’s your family?”

“Good.”

“I was at the hospital on Sunday. How was the service?”

Hector shifted back and forth. “I don't know Father. It’s been a long time since I've been to a Sunday service.”

“You know services are at 6:30 in the evening, too, if you're busy on Sunday mornings.”

“Here we are,” Marcos said as the elevator doors opened.

Hector jumped in front of them. “His office is right around the corner.”

Hector turned the corner and found Allen sitting at his desk. “Allen, this is Father Eugenio.”

“Father, it's a pleasure to meet you. Please have a seat. Marcos can you grab another chair?”

“Sure.”

Hector waited for Marcos, then turned to Allen. “So, do you have any questions?”

“A bunch.”

Hector chuckled, “Great. I'm going to let the Father take it from here then.”

“So this is a house blessing?” Allen asked.

“Yes,” Father Eugenio replied.

“You’re going to bless each condo?”

“I can. It shouldn’t take too long.”

“I’m not Catholic, Father.”

“We can fix that.”

Hector noticed Allen's puzzled expression. “Don’t worry, he pesters me all the time.”

Father Eugenio faced Hector. “I wouldn’t use the word ‘pestering.’”

“Nagging, then?”

“Hectoring,” Marcos added with a grin.

Hector watched Allen fidgeting with a pen. “Sorry. Go ahead.”

“Father, do you believe in ghosts? I think it's kind of strange a priest would be involved with something like this.”

“Yes, the church has strict rules on what to do, but I can tell you, I’ve experienced strange things at the hospital. I can also tell you prayer is the right way to handle any situation.”

“If you don’t mind sharing, what have you seen at the hospital?”

“Oh, nothing spectacular. Sometimes equipment starts acting up. The switchboard will start to go haywire and the operators will ask me to stop by. The heart monitors at the nurse’s station start working again as if someone is in the room, and no one is there.”

“And you go in and bless the room?”

“Yes, and we pray.”

“And that fixes it?”

“Yes.”

“Does it ever happen again?”

“Sometimes. Many people die in a hospital, even within one day.”

“So it happens again because more people die.”

“That’s been my experience.”

“I’m sorry for backing out of the investigation, guys. My father’s reaction surprised me when I let slip what we were going to do.”

“I don’t think you need to apologize for a good decision,” said Father Eugenio.

“You don’t approve of this ‘ghost hunting’?”

“Not exactly,” said Hector.

“No, not at all,” said Father Eugenio. “Let me make this very clear. The Bible says we are not to contact spirits in any way.”

“Do you think they’re bad?” said Allen.

“Not all ghosts are demons. In fact, some people have categorized seven different kinds of ghosts. There’s even one type that appears bright and happy, bringing messages of hope and love from a friend or family member to comfort us. I think God’s compassion allows this sort of thing.” Father Eugenio leaned forward. “However, Satan may be using these spirits to feed an unhealthy curiosity that could lead to danger. God warns, against contacting the dead because He fears for our soul.”

“This is why we get along so well,” said Hector, motioning between himself and Father Eugenio.

Everyone waited while Allen tapped his pen against the top of his desk. “I would rather not be bothered by these... ghosts, apparitions, whatever you want to call them. I don’t want anyone who stays here to be bothered by them either.”

Hector leaned forward to speak, but Father Eugenio interrupted him. “Then let’s go make peace with this house.”

Hector led Father Eugenio as he moved from apartment to apartment and room to room, his voice ringing loud and clear: “Oh God, protect our going out and our coming in; Let us share the hospitality of this home with all who visit us, that those who enter here may know your love and peace. O God, give your blessings to all who share this room, that we may be knit together in companionship.”

“O God, you fill the hungry with good things. Send your blessing on us, as we work in this kitchen, and make us ever thankful for our daily bread. Blessed are you, Lord of heaven and earth, for you give us food and drink to sustain our lives and make our hearts glad.

“Protect us, Lord, as we stay awake; watch over us as we sleep, that awake we may keep watch with Christ, and asleep, we may rest in his peace. Blessed are you, Lord of heaven and earth. You formed us in wisdom and love. Refresh us in body and in spirit, and keep us in good health that we might serve you.”

Hector led them back to the elevators where Father Eugenio turned and said, “Peace be with this house and with all who live here. Blessed by the name of the Lord.”

Silence rang out for a moment. Hector watched as Father Eugenio shook Allen’s hand and entered the elevator. He stood in front of Allen. “If there is anything you need, don't hesitate to call me or Marcos anytime.”

***

Allen stared at the elevator doors. He felt calm. Laurie and his daughters went to church on Sundays. Maybe he should start joining them.

He turned around and walked to his office door. Allen blinked his eyes as a form materialized and moved toward him. It was another young girl, beautiful, with an outstretched hand. She appeared dysphoric. Through the sadness, Allen was certain she wanted something from him. Between one blink and the next, she vanished.

OK, thought Allen, It’s not the building that’s haunted... it’s me.