21 Ghosts

21 Ghosts

J. Godfrey, After Life Consulting

Book Three Case Two

By

Brennan Barrett

Smashwords Edition

ISBN: 978-1-9995781-0-7

Copyright Brennan Barrett 2019

Dedication:

This book is dedicated to my readers and to the people closest to me, some of whom just happen to be my readers. In addition, I would also like to dedicate this book to every brave soul out there who has the courage to say the silliest thing at the worst time, simply because they know in their hearts it will make for a great story one day.

Author’s note:

Sometimes the characters in my books resemble real actual people. I call this craft. It means I’m doing my job and I can assure you that every character in this work is completely fictional. Except for Mandy, she’s real, we just aren’t on speaking terms right now. Yes, it was because of one of those moments where I had the courage to say the silliest thing at the worst time. Thankfully I wasn’t turned into a newt.

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be sold or copied without purchase or permission by the author or publisher. If you would like to share this book with someone, please visit the publisher and purchase additional copies. If you are reading this book and have not received it as a gift or purchased it from a licensed reseller, please visit a reseller that offers my book and purchase a legal copy. Thank you for respecting my hard work as a writer.

Cover art designed and created by Brennan Barrett ©2018

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Epilogue

About the Author

Coming Soon

Connect

Other Book by Brennan Barrett

Special Thanks

Title Page

Back to Top

21 Ghosts

Chapter 1

It's not that hash browns actually have anything to do with the workings of the universe. Not in particular. They do, however, make any given Sunday more worthwhile. I'm talking about the crunchy, lightly salted, taste buds embracing kind of hash browns. You know, the way they satisfy you with their crispy potato goodness.

Hey, don't eyeball me like that, I'm just telling the beginning of the story the way I heard it. I mean, except for the word 'like'. I've edited out over two thousand extraneous occurrences of the word 'like' because it makes me crazy when young people use that word too often. What's wrong with 'Um?' I like um. Everyone knows what um means. I didn't bother omitting shit, ass-wipe, cocksucker, or fuck because they're important words. Sure, they are. If they weren't part of the story, no one would believe I was telling it, Ass-wipe.

My name is Jason Godfrey And I was struck dead by a haunted tree once. Yup, I was stone cold dead. Even shit myself. Normally, people would spare the reader or listener that part of the story, especially if they were telling a story about themselves, but the story isn't really about me. It's about a girl who ran into something really nasty. Well, the beginning is. Come to think of it, so is the middle and most other parts of the story. I'm rarely ever involved at the beginning of stories. In fact, the only times I was ever involved at the beginning of a story, the story was about me. Even then, it wasn't completely about me, and there was a good portion of the story that involved a good Witch and a bad Witch that were hung from a gnarly old tree; the same tree in fact, that struck me dead once, but there's no point in boring you with that right now.

I should really get back to the hash browns. Mandy was staring at me from across the worn surface of the diner table as I carefully levered my eggs onto the top of the steaming pile of hash browns and made happy sounds as I broke the yolks. I made more happy sounds as the golden goodness of the yolks ran through my crispy hash browns. Did I mention my hash browns were tender on the inside? The dead chick sitting beside Mandy was staring at my food intensely. It's a real bummer for the dead when they kick it and then have to watch someone else eat. Most diners don't have anything on the menu to offer ghosts. No, I’m being a dick. There aren’t any diners or restaurants anywhere that have anything on the menu for ghosts. At least, none that I have heard of, and I‘m kind of an authority.

Mandy was, has been, and is probably the best girlfriend a guy could ask for. In addition to the fact that she was willing to put up with me, she was really hot. Sure, there is ample evidence of arrested development on my part, but I prefer to think of it as room for growth. Anyhoo, where were we? Oh yes. The spook sitting beside Mandy that I was torturing by playing with my food. Hey, just because I can talk to spooks doesn't mean I'm an angel.

Asshole, said the spook.

Yeah, said the asshole. Meaning me.

You're the one who wanted to talk in here, with all these people listening. Are we going to talk, or are you just going to play with your food?

You're dead, porn lips. They can't hear you. All anyone around us can see and hear is my lovely girlfriend and her boyfriend out for a nice breakfast. I could toy with this one a bit. She was obviously too young to have seen Ghost, with Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore, and hadn't figured out that she could move things if she concentrated hard enough. Why? Why what? Oh, why do I toy with them? Well, I think we've already established that I'm a bit of an asshole. There's another good reason though. You see, nobody - and I mean nobody - can whine and bitch more than the dead. Holy shit, can they go on!

Oh, don't look at me like that. If only one person was to pierce the veil and reach through from the other side to communicate with you – well, that would be just nifty. The drama would be justified because, fuck me, it's communicating with the dead! The desperation, the overwhelming need to share that message from beyond the grave. Man, that's the made for TV movie right there. But when it happens every fucking day, day in and day out, it's just really fucking exhausting.

So, you don't care? Asked the dead girl.

Not usually, no. But that's just the default setting and doesn't mean I won't help you. I told her slowly between bites. To the other patrons, it would have looked as if Mandy and I were having a pedestrian conversation over breakfast. I have to constantly remind myself to be careful and not make a scene. It only takes one person to recognize the famous medium Jason Godfrey, and bam, I'm up to my armpits in both living and dead idiots, bitching and moaning about everything under the sun. I even get the alien freaks, and by that, I mean people that want me to confirm that they're living as a reincarnation of some dead alien.

No, I honestly fucking kid you not.

He takes a little getting used to, honey, Mandy said soothingly. She was pretty great with the stiffs. Edgar, my dead buddy and all-around sucker of an assistant was better. It was tough to take ghosts on vacation though. Anytime they started daydreaming, they would snap back to their usual haunt. That being the place they went tits up.

I'll tell you what, I said around a rather delicious mouthful of eggs and hash. Why don't you start at the beginning and tell me your story. I usually only get involved with cases where I can: a) do some good, and b) get paid for my time. Until I hear your story, I won't make up my mind. Fair enough?

The spook nodded vigorously then looked at Mandy for support. I hated it when they did that. It often meant I would end up working for free. Mandy was a little too soft hearted for my own good.

Well, it all started when I came out here from Brea. That was three years ago. Well, three years and six months. I guess time keeps going for everyone else when you die. I sighed as she went for the expected sympathy vote. Sob stories tended to piss me off because they were usually attached to a dollar sign with no numbers to the right of it. Anyway, I couldn't have been here for more than a half hour when I met this guy.

Mandy groaned, sympathizing with the spook. I know, right? So fucking cliché!

Go on, and please make a long story short. I said as I wiped my lips to hide the smirk. Mandy's skin was starting to thicken, just as I had promised her it would.

The guy wasn't an agent at all!

No! Mandy wiped her lips as I spoke. Told ya, the skin it doth thicken.

Schyeah! The fucker drove a cheap Toyota. And to think I fell for the line about it being a courtesy car. The next thing I know, I'm chained to his fucking bed frame, and I lived like that for three years! The spook paused to collect breath she didn't even need before launching into another chapter in her story.

I got one shower a week. I shit in a porta-potty, and I cleaned myself with baby wipes. For three cocksucking years!

You know, I said, interrupting the spook before she got into wailing fit. I didn't catch your name.

Oh, everyone calls me May or May-May. My name's actually Athame. My parents were Wiccans. Are, Wiccans, I guess.

Fuck, I mentioned.

What? Athame asked.

Oh nothing, please go on, I urged. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, I thought. I had to take this one. Wiccans had helped me out too many times to say no. To rock the boat now would just be stupid. Hey, I said I was an asshole, I didn't say I was a stupid one.

So, like you can more or less figure, I was this dick bag's sex slave for three fucking years.

Fucking years, yes, I agreed before Mandy kicked me under the table. Painfully, I might add. Twice.

Oh, I was his regular little blow up doll. 'On your knees, on your back, on your tummy.' It was like that night after night. On weekends, he would watch Anime porn and then force me to try and assume positions that only animated characters can master. She looked over at Mandy. I almost had him talked into letting me take yoga classes to make me more flexible.

What happened? Mandy asked.

He bought DVDs and had me do yoga with the TV instead. Do you know how hard some of those poses are with heavy chain and a shackle around your ankle?

Sorry, no, I offered. Mandy makes me do Pilates though, and I thought I was going to die for the first three weeks.

Poor thing, he’s still delicate about it, Mandy said as she patted my hand.

This was worse, porn lips said with a pout. I had to do it naked and chained. That sounded suspiciously like a porn title to me, and I found myself getting turned on. Oh, fuck you, you were thinking it too. At least he finally agreed to swap my chain to the other ankle halfway through the DVD. Only took two fucking months to talk him into that one.

Two months of yoga every day? I asked in horror. Damn it, now I was sympathizing with her!

Seriously? Porn lips asked. That's your takeaway from this?

Sorry, exercise terrifies me, I explained.

His Krav Maga teacher terrifies him, Mandy offered, worse than his Pilates instructor did, but he's not lying. Pretty much any kind of exercise terrifies him.

Porn lips looked at me with disdain. I could understand that. I never professed to be the manly type. I'm like Monty Python's Brave Sir Robin. I bravely run away. Except running is a form of physical exercise and just so distasteful. You see my predicament. Mandy solved the problem by purchasing me a gun. The joke was on her though, because then she had to help with all the forms and licensing. We were on vacation in a different state though, so it was locked up at home.

I wish I had had some Krav Maga training, May-May said with her expected porn lips pout. I tried to get away one time when he was changing my shackle, and he beat my ass.

Oh, honey, Mandy soothed. I would honestly hug you if I could. Unfortunately, she said it just as an aging waitress stopped at the table to refill our coffee cups.

The waitress gave me a questioning look, and I just said, Oh I'd love another cup. Then I looked at Mandy and asked her, So then what did she say? The waitress looked bored and quickly left.

So, is that when you died? I asked.

Oh, I wish, Athame said with another pout. No, that was year one. I had chains on both legs after that. Year two he put in a stripper pole and thin steel cable.

Sounds like this guy needs his balls kicked as a hobby, Mandy growled quietly. I was imagining Athame's frame spinning around a stripper pole with a slight smile on my face. Then I started thinking about the steel cable and what a nuisance it would be to someone trying to work a stripper pole and couldn't get my mind off of the image.

My mind is like that at times. It will completely sabotage a perfectly good dirty thought. To be brutally honest, that might not be my mind. It might be the dead witch that lives there. I transferred her to a crystal ball at one time, but eventually realized that I had to put her back in my skull now and then, or she would fade away.

So, what happened? I asked. Sounds like you two had managed to work out all the kinks.

Ha... Ha..., May-May chided. I just shrugged and she eventually decided to continue. Well, after that it was business as usual. 'Grab your ankles, suck my cock, bend over the couch, bend over the table, bend over the chair,' Anime porn on the weekends, rinse and repeat. Then one day, I tell him, 'George, I think I'm pregnant.'

And? I ask.

And I hear this crunch, Athame says conversationally. Mandy covered her lips with her fingers. Then I'm standing over my own body looking at the spot on my head where George had caved it in with the base of a floor lamp. At least that's what I think it was. I didn't really pay attention. I was pretty messed up looking at myself all fucked up like that.

Damn, that's cold, I said slowly. I could tell by the look in Mandy's eyes that we were taking this case.

No, no. No, May-May insisted. The cold part was that the doughy bastard decided to get one last good fuck out of me before I got cold. Hate-fucked me right in the ass, the sick fuck.

Ouch, Mandy and I offered.

Nah, I was kinda past feeling anything. Hey did you know that a person's asshole just kind of gives up when they die?

Yes, I said quickly, hoping that May-May would move past that point before Mandy caught on and had to imagine me shitting myself. Thoughts like that could turn a woman off oral for some time, I suspected.

Really? Mandy asked.

Fuck.

Yeah, May-May snickered. So, after I shit all over George, he decided to choose a different route. Mandy winced and May-May shook her head. Mandy's eyes shot wide open.

No.

Oh yeah.

What did I miss? I asked.

The sick little shit rolled me over and face fucked me. Trust me, you don't want to know any more details.

We'll take the case, Mandy said in clipped quiet tones.

I nodded and said, We just have to figure out how to solve it in such a way that this George guy ends up dead. Mandy looked at me, and I explained. Not my idea, I said as I tapped my temple with a finger. Mandy nodded and May-May looked at me like I was insane. I was starting to sweat a little bit as the witch inside me raged, and my left eye was twitching. I couldn't blame her for thinking I was unbalanced. I could, did, and would definitely blame the witch that was setting up an unholy racket in my head.

You're serious? You're going to whack the guy? Porn lips asked.

Not if I can help it, I replied. I'd much rather trick him into a shootout with a SWAT team.

I like your style Mr. Godfrey, Athame said with a devious smile.

Chapter 2

Getting a ghost to follow you back to your hotel isn't as easy as you would think. For one thing, they retain the same instincts, insecurities, and predispositions that they had when they were alive. George must have been one hell of a smooth customer if he had managed to invite someone as skittish as May-May back to his place. I finally had to tell her that Mandy and I had a grand plan of getting her back to our place for some good old-fashioned forced porn and dildo play. You should have seen her expression at first. She didn't get it until I said we had a box full to overflowing with ghost dildos. What an idiot.

Ok, May-May, it's been my experience that one thing kind of leads to another, I said to set the stage for May-May to become our local Edgar.

Oh, yeah. Like the whole holistic thing, Athame said energetically.

Kind of like that, I said, suppressing a groan. You see, Mandy and I are here on vacation, and from experience I know that the moment I start working, the work pours in.

Do you mean you're going to be too busy to help me? May-May pouted. She was really working the porn lips. Her bottom lip was sticking out like a championship landing pad for testicles.

No, what I'm saying is that when I start working your case, work is going to find me, and I'll need a little help. How do you feel about becoming my Girl Friday for a while?

Isn't that her job? Porn lips asked as she pointed to Mandy and giggled.

For all the physical stuff, yeah. But she can't walk through walls. What do you say?

I've spent the last six months screaming every foul word and curse I could think of. If I wasn't doing that, I was crying. Crying when you're dead just doesn't give you that wash you need – emotionally, I mean. I'm happy just to have someone to talk to. You know, other than dead junkies.

So, I'll just take that as a yes, I said. Stiffs were always like this. They desperately wanted anyone - anyone alive - to understand how they felt. I guess it's a bit shitty of me to be callous about the whole thing, but Jesus, it gets tiring after a dozen times. Kind of like a toothache that isn't quite bad enough to deserve the tender ministrations of a dentist.

Fuck, yes! Athame insisted. I wouldn't get too loud about operating freelance around here though. I've met a few people – like, dead people - and they love to talk.

Really?

Really. Anyway, you should know the psychics around here have the local voodoo racket sewn up tight. You're going to be pissing them and all the Scientologists off if you start doing your thing in a big way. I don't think they'll appreciate real, if you know what I mean.

I'm not a psychic May-May, I'm just a guy who died and didn't stay dead. Now I have to make a buck with the hand I've been dealt, because there's no way I can work a normal job with dead people following me around everywhere I go.

Hey, I'm in. Especially if you take care of George. I won't lie and say I wouldn't like to see that fucker dead. You guys are cool though. I don't want you two to get fucked up for killing him.

Things have a way of working out, Athame. Just help me with whatever comes up, and I promise I'll see George in his own set of chains at the very least.

I wasn't kidding about this much. Now give me your parents' phone number. I'm going to have a Wiccan I know give them a call on my behalf and let them know I'm handling this.

You would do that?

Fuck, yeah, Mandy answered for me.

You guys are cool, May-May said with a sniff.

You too, May-May, I said with a wink. Now sit tight while I call Tinkerbell.

Oh my God, she's real? Athame said in shock. Yeah, the magic moment was trashed.

It's just a nickname for my friend Gladys, I replied. "She's a