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The Space between Atoms 17

 Terah swung around to see the man he’d found fucking in bed.  The figure leered at him, and seemed solid.  And clothed.  Terah backed into the burner as the figure approached.  Had Mich lied about being alone here?  Had he been setting him up?





The man looked like the sex guy, but his face was pure menace.  He held a worn leather Bible in his left hand.  He approached, his smile broadening with every step.  He reached his hand toward Terah.  

Then he was gone.

The warmth of the boiler casing on his back brought Terah around.  He didn’t want his back exposed.  Keeping his eyes in the direction of Wednesday, he backed in the shadows to the next boiler, trembling.

“It’s okay,” Mich soothed.  “He’s gone.”

Shaking so violently he couldn’t speak, Terah remained in the shadows until the encroaching chill drew him back to the taunting orange light.

“There’s a reason this real estate is so cheap,” Mich joked.  “I told you the ghosts were real.”

Still in shock, Terah simply shook his head.

“Ya get used to it,” Mich said.  “They sometimes try to drive you to do somethin’ careless, especially that one.  I figure he must be Wednesday.  Is he the same one you saw fuckin’?”

Terah drew a deep, ragged breath.  “I think so.  The angle was bad.”

“Yeah.  Little hard to tell when a guy’s got his ass to ya.”

“I’m pretty sure, though.  The build was about right.”

“If you’re like most guys your attention was about midway down.”

So Mich was a typical young person in that respect at least.  He liked to talk about sex.

“Has he ever hurt you?”

“He’s a ghost.  I have seen ghosts influencin’ physical things now an’ again.  You heard the clangin’ earlier.  They can move shit around.  Mostly Wednesday tries to distract me when I’m in a situation where if I don’t pay attention I might do myself some harm.  He’s the worst of the lot.”

“Do you see him often?”

“Often?  No.  I suspect talkin’ about him brought him out.”

Still shaking, Terah peeled himself from the boiler and made his way back to Mich.  “I’m not sure this is such a safe place for you.”

“Compared to where?  Islamabad?  Kosovo?  Detroit?”

“No, I mean if you want to be your own master that’s cool, but doing it somewhere that a hostile spirit tries to scare you half to death?”

“Scares you half to death.  I’m cool with it.”

Being homeless required more courage than Terah had anticipated.  Mich, despite his age, impressed him as an accomplished professional.  The younger man’s willingness to share his experience with a guy trying to learn how it works also hinted at quality of character.  He wanted to know him better, but it was clearly going to be at Mich’s pace.

“When I was outside, trying to get back in, did you open one of the clerestory windows?”

“Whoa, professor!  Don’t know what clerestory is.”

“The windows above the third story.”

“Wasn’t me.  Don’t have much need for fresh air.  The sooner ya come to terms with livin’ with ghosts, the better.  They won’t treat ya any worse than the livin’ do.  Probably better, all told.”

“One of the problems with growing up in society is absorbing its beliefs.  That’s the way all religions work.  You can’t unlearn ways of thinking very quickly.  Seeing Wednesday disappear should’ve convinced me, but already my rational outlook is suggesting it could’ve been some guy who just stepped into the shadows quickly.”

“And stays so quiet we can’t hear ‘im?”  Mich held a finger to his lips and both of them sat in silence.  The quiet grew uncomfortable.  It was clear the two of them were alone.

“I know, Mich,” Terah said at last.  “It’s just going to take some time.”

“You miss her?”

“Who?  Danielle?  Of course I do.”

“Whaddaya think happened to her?”

“She worked for one of the big pharmaceuticals in Jersey.  A chemist.  Those companies are paranoid to the point of being psychotic.  And their profit margins?  Unimaginable.  To get to her office she had to go through one of those full-body scanners like they use at airports.  You’ve flown since 9/11, right?  No?  Well, they have these full-body scanners at airports now.  They use some kind of electromagnetic radiation waves that see through clothes and display your naked body to a screener in another room.  That’s right, the government can keep scans of your prick on file in the name of national security.

“In any case, big pharma is that paranoid about keeping secrets.  What’s really surprising to me is there aren’t more mysterious deaths associated with the industry.  Of course, there may be such deaths and we’d never hear of them.  Money can buy silence at a discount.

“I think Danielle was poisoned.  I found her and panicked.”

“And you ask me why I don’t wanna be part of that society?  At least with ghosts you know where ya stand.”

Being out of natural light, melatonin suggested sleep, and after the fright he’d just experienced, Terah wasn’t in the mood for exploring.  Although Mich’s mansion had many rooms, he bedded down in the ersatz dining room, kitchen, and living room with the boilers.  He had a hammock that he’d lifted in warmer times, and with the unused appliances there were plenty of places from which to suspend it.  He offered it to Terah.  “You’re older, dude.”

“No thanks.  I’m not taking your bed.”  The emergency blanket was warm enough, and Terah discovered what human ancestors must’ve known for many millennia—if you’re tired enough you can sleep anywhere.

“We can at least drag a mattress or two down here.  I wouldn’t recommend the one from Wednesday’s room, just in case.”  Flashlight in hand, Mich led Terah back to the upper world.  The place was preternaturally quiet.  With no electric hum and no ticking clocks—no human noises beyond their own, the asylum felt oppressive.  Finding a couple of thin, institutional mattresses was a simple chore.  “Don’t have any tools, otherwise we could take apart one of these frames for ya.”

“Mattresses will be fine,” Terah said, glad for the warmth of some exertion.

No illumination came through the windows and Mich was very careful to keep his light low.  Halfway down the treacherous stairs of the pyramid it went out, baptizing them in darkness.  And they weren’t alone.

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