My new story J is for Jogah, the little people, continues. I’ll be sharing more details next Monday but aside from my weekly writing challenge I’m taking a step back from posting so I can focus on finishing some projects that are nearing the finish line.
A chill raced down his spine, and he turned his attention on his book, trying to get lost in the story, as he did everything he could to ignore the comings and goings of those around him.
“Hey, sport, you want to see your new sister?”
He looked up at his father’s question as an old man vanished into the far wall. Of course he wanted to see his sister. Putting aside his book he followed his father and the nurse to the nursery where swaddled babies lay sleeping or screaming in three rows. Several other fathers along with sisters and brothers formed a small crowd at the glass window filling one wall.
“There she is,” his father said as he pointed at the crib third from the end of the second row back. Jeffery’s gaze found her lying peacefully in her crib. To any other outward observer she was staring at the ceiling. But Jeffery saw the shadowy form of an old man leaning over her crib as if he were speaking to her. Her gaze remained fixed on the point where the man’s head should have been, and Jeffery felt that old familiar fear rushing through him. Only this time instead of worrying about what these things might do to him, he was concerned about what they might do to his little sister. After all, as the older brother, it was now his responsibility to protect her.
He wanted to go in and try to scare the ghost away but knew they wouldn’t let him, and he understood it would be best not to say anything about what he saw. They would only worry about what was wrong with him as opposed to what might be attracted to his sister.
After their visit they were on their way out when he spotted the old man who had helped move them in. He was sitting in the cafeteria with a cup of coffee on the table before him. After telling his dad he had to go to the bathroom he crossed to where the old man sat.
“Hello Mr. Jeffery, how has life been treating you?”
“I have a new sister,” he replied.
“Congratulations,” the old man said. It seemed he wanted to say more but didn’t as he became aware of the concern on Jeffery’s face.
“What’s wrong?”
“We just came from visiting her and there was the ghost of an old man talking to her. I’m worried they might hurt her.”
“That’s not unusual. Did you know newborn infants can see them as clearly as you and I.”
“But what if they hurt her?”
“They can’t hurt anybody, not physically, they can trick you into seeing things that aren’t there, like what happened with the blueberry muffin.”
Jeffery shuddered at the memory, and once again saw those tiny blue eyes opening after he had taken a bite. His stomach performed a lazy somersault as the bile climbed the back of his throat.
An old lady passed between them, cutting right through the table, the back of her hospital gown open to reveal a shriveled butt with shit stains covering both thighs. Even in death the hospital gown offered little privacy.
Both Jeffery and the old man watched as she vanished into the far wall, cutting through several more tables on her journey across the cafeteria. At one table she walked right through a couple of nurses who were busy eating and chatting, that shriveled butt passed through one young woman’s face. After she did the nurse shuddered and rubbed her hands on her arms as if she felt a sudden chill.
“Used to be an old hospital on these grounds,” the old man said, “the place is teeming with ghosts. But when you get her home she’ll be safe.”
It was something for Jeffery to cling to, that the house might prove to be a safe haven for his family, yet even at his age he suspected that wouldn’t be the case.
To be continued!
Richard Schiver 