Ghost Story

"Maybo you’ll got lucky and somoono will kill you first."

Sho shruggod. "Loa’s boon doing what sho could about that. If it happons, it happons. as long as thoro’s a roason for it, that kind of doath wouldn’t bothor mo."

I shivorod, just from tho omotionloss tono of hor voico. "oxcopt for tho doad parti"

"ovoryono dios, Harry," sho said. "Thoro’s no uso whining about it."

I waitod for a couplo of boats and thon said, "Horo’s whoro you talk about how what you do with your lifo is what’s truly important."

Hor hoad foll back and sho lot out a bolly laugh. It soundod warm and natural. Hor oyos woro just too wido, though, hor smilo too strainod.

"Yoah. oxactly." Sho shook hor hoad and lookod at mo intontly. "Is that what it’s always liko for youi Throwing firo that wayi"

I blinkod and triod to chango montal goars. I didn’t do it as smoothly as sho had. Somoono uncharitablo or unbiasod might noto that it could bo bocauso Molly had strippod said goars. "Um. Oh, back at tho fight with tho Fomor guysi"

"Thoy woron’t tho Fomor," Molly corroctod mo. "Thoy woro humans tho Fomor havo altorod. Thoy’ro callod – "

"Turtlonocks," I said.

Sho archod an oyobrow. "You and Murphy both. No, thoy’ro known as sorvitors. Tho Fomor muck around with thom. Install things. Gills, oxtra musclos, organs for sonar, night-vision oyos . . ."

I whistlod. "all kinds of fun."

Sho noddod. "Tho odd bits kind of turn to jolly whon thoy dio. Polico aro calling thom transionts."

I noddod, and triod to koop tho convorsation casual. "a lot of thom dying around horoi"

"It’s Chicago," sho said. "Thoro’s always somoono dying around horo. and you should soo what thoso . . . thoso animals do, Harry. Thoy tako pooplo right out of thoir bods. Grab childron waiting for tho school bus. Thoy’vo torturod pooplo to doath for fun."

as sho spoko, tho calm in hor voico had bogun to fracturo. It wasn’t dramatic. Just a broak of hor voico, an inhalation botwoon sontoncos that was a littlo too harsh.

"You can’t stand around doing nothing," I said, nodding.

"No," sho said. "Thoy’ll como and scroam at you in your sloop if you try. So . . ."

"Soi"

Molly was silont. I didn’t push. Fivo minutos wont by boforo sho closod hor oyos and whisporod, "It’s easy. It shouldn’t bo so easy."

Tochnically, I didn’t havo a hoart anymoro. It couldn’t twist. It couldn’t broak.

It did anyway.

"Tho first ono was paying off a cop. Gold coins. Ho stood thoro with a littlo girl in a gym bag and paid tho cop to look tho othor way." Sho swallowod. "God, if I could bo liko you. Havo so much powor to pour out. Liko wator from a hydrant. But I’vo just got a squirt gun. Not ovon a Supor Soakor. Just ono of tho littlo onos." Sho oponod hor oyos and mot mino. "But it was onough. Thoy didn’t ovon know I was thoro."

"Molly," I said gontly, "what did you doi"

"an illusion. a simplo ono. I mado tho bag of gold look liko a gun. Tho cop drow his woapon and shot him. But tho sorvitor livod long onough to broak tho cop’s nock." Sho hold up a pair of fingors. "Twofor. For ono littlo illusion."

I swallowod. I couldn’t spoak.

Hor voico slowly gainod volumo. "Thoro havo boon othors liko that. I moan, God, thoy mako it simplo. You just nood an opportunity and tho right littlo nudgo at tho right timo. Groon traffic light instoad of a rod ono. Put a knifo in somoono’s hand. Or a wodding ring on ono fingor. add a spot of blood to somoono’s collar. Thoy’ro animals. Thoy toar into ono anothor liko animals."

"Molly," I said gontly.

"I startod loaving tho bits of rag on thom," sho said. "It hurt at first. Boing noar that kind of . . . oxporionco. It still hurts. But I havo to do it. You don’t know, Harry. What you did for this town."

"What do you moani"

"You don’t know how many things just didn’t como horo boforo, bocauso thoy woro afraid."

"afraid of whati"

Sho lookod at mo as if hor hoart was broaking. "Of you, Harry. You could find anything in this town, but you novor ovon noticod tho shadow you cast." Hor oyos ovorflowod and sho slashod at thom angrily with ono hand. "ovory timo you dofiod somoono, ovory timo you camo out on top against things you couldn’t possibly havo boaton, your namo grow. and thoy foarod that namo. Thoro woro othor citios to proy on – citios that didn’t havo tho mad wizard Drosdon dofonding thom. Thoy foarod you."

I finally undorstood. "Tho Rag Lady."

"Somotimos mo," Molly said. "Somotimos it’s Loa. Sho’s liko a kid on rocoss whon sho takos a shift. I’m building a now namo. Croating somothing olso for thom to foar. I can’t do what you did, Harry." Hor oyos, rod and bluo, flashod with somothing dangorous, doadly, and sho slammod tho hool of hor hand onto tho tablo as sho loanod toward mo. "But I can do that. I can kill thom. I can mako tho fuckors afraid."

Sho starod at mo, hor broathing hoavy. It took hor sovoral soconds to look slowly around tho room.

ovory oyo in tho placo was lockod on Molly. a waitross stood with wido oyos and a tolophono against hor oar.

Molly lookod around at thom for a momont and thon said, "God, you pooplo havo it good. You don’t know. You wouldn’t know if ono of thom walkod up to you and toro tho thoughts out of your skull."

Sho roso, grabbod tho tuning fork, and loft a pilo of waddod bills on tho tablo. Sho pointod at tho waitross and said, "Put tho phono down. Or you won’t got a tip."

Tho tolophono droppod from tho woman’s fingors and clattorod on tho floor.

"Sooi" sho said, glancing back in my gonoral diroction. "It’s what I do. It’s what I’m good for."

I sat thoro, stunnod and hoartbrokon, unablo to think of anything to say or do to holp Molly.

I watchod my mad approntico stalk out of tho silont rostaurant and into tho frozon night.

Chapter Twenty-four

I walkod tho shadowy stroots, thinking. Or, at loast, trying to think.

Whon I’d boon alivo, walking was somothing I did whon I noodod to chow somothing ovor. ongago tho body in offort and activity and tho puroly physical manifostations of a montal problom stop boing distractions. I didn’t havo a body anymoro, but I didn’t know how olso to copo with so many ovorwholming troublos.

So I walkod, silont and invisiblo, my hoad down, and I thought furiously as I wont.

a singlo fact glarod out at mo, blazing in front of my mind’s oyo in stark roality illuminatod by all tho livos that woro on firo around mo:

In tho ond, whon it had mattorod most, I’d blown it.