NaNoWriMo, Part 25: The Saga Continues

Today's word count: 1,925 words
Running total: 41,785 words
Summary:  Chase spills his heart out to his friends, the Grindstone case is closed, and Scarlett gets a text message that will change her life.  Dun dun dunnnn.

Also, there are profound thoughts.

    The rest of the walk back isn’t terribly interesting so I’ll spare you the details.  Know that when we get back we explain the entire situation to Jake, from Ashley’s original idea to do the auditorium ghost show to the huge mishap that caused to a crash course on Kenneth’s condition.  When we are finished, Jake sits there looking utterly confused, completely unsure of what to say next.
    “I don’t know what to say next,” he confirms.  “I mean—It’s not like I never believed in ghosts.  My brother and I were huge fans of ghost and horror stories, but…”
    “It’s a lot scarier when it’s real, isn’t it?”  Brian asks, a surprising tone of understanding in his voice.  Personally, I thought his only two tones were “really stoned” and “not stoned but still sounding like you are.”  It’s strange to see him like this.  Maybe even a little unsettling.
    “Yeah, I guess that’s it.”  After all of this, Jake still manages to smile.  He really is cute.  If only he were closer to me in age…
    “Well, I hate to shake things up even more, but… my announcement?”
    I mentally roll my eyes and look at Chase.  “All right, go ahead.”
    He stands up in front of everyone and takes a few deep breaths.  We all look at him expectantly.  He looks at us for a brief second, then finds a knot in the floorboards particularly fascinating and stares at it instead.
    He takes another deep breath.
    I make a show of pulling out my cell phone, and coaxing it out of sleep mode to check on the time.
    Finally Chase says something very, very fast.  I don’t catch it.
    “What was that, Chase?” Mr. Williams asks.  Apparently I’m not the only one.
    He takes another deep breath.  “I’m possessed.  Sort of.”  His voice drops to a mumble, but I somehow manage to pick up all the words.  “There’s a ghost… living in my body.  He tells me things.”
    Mr. Williams’ brow furrows with concern.  He isn’t the only one.  I knew it:  Chase is legally insane.
    “What sort of things is this ‘ghost’ telling you, Chase?”  Mr. Williams asks.
    “Like with Kenny—he’s the one who figured out what was wrong with him.  He knows all sorts of things about stopping ghosts that are out to kill people—he calls them ‘spectres,’ as opposed to ghosts like him who help people.”
    Brian raises a hand like we’re in class, lowers it, and begins talking without having permission granted.  He has no school manners, apparently.
    “Okay, but I thought possession worked differently?  Like, shouldn’t your head be spinning around or whatever?”
    Chase looks at Brian with some annoyance.  I can’t say I completely blame him this once.  He continues, “Alistair—that’s the ghost’s name, he doesn’t remember his last but it’s definitely not Crowley—isn’t very good with the whole possession thing yet.  He doesn’t know how it all works out… it apparently took him years to figure out how to talk to me mentally, and more time to figure out how to utilize my senses… only today he figured out how to actually take control of my body to use his skills and stuff, and even then only for short periods of time.”  He stops expectantly.  He’s clearly waiting for us to ask more questions.  If we have any.
    I have one.  “So did he tell you to run away when Kenneth’s life was threatened?”
    He sighs.  “Look—Alistair knows how use spells that dissipate ectoplasm and weaken spectres.  Grindstone was using ectoplasm to keep his victims in place while he finished up with sharpening his tools.  I had to get outside so he could concentrate and cast the spell without being trapped.”
    …Now that he explains it, that actually makes a bit of sense.
    Mr. Williams asks, “So is that what you were doing punching the shack?”
    “…Yes.  At least, that’s what Alistair was doing.  I have no idea how it works, and Alistair tells me it’s impossible for any human to do things like that.  Only ghosts and other supernatural creatures.”
    Jake laughs.  We all turn suddenly to face him.  I think we collectively forgot he was even there.
    “I like this group!  You never know what’s going to happen next,” he offers dumbly.
    There is nothing you can say to that.  After a while I think Jake realizes that he’s not going to get a response, and his smile fades as he sits back on the couch.
    But it appears he’s not done, and he signals this by clearing his throat.  “So… where are you guys going next?  Surely this plot twist changes your plans a little, doesn’t it?”
    Silence.  Finally, Ashley says,  “Well, I’m not quite sure what the next ghost we’re going to pursue is.  We have a few in our binder here, but I don’t think anyone really wants to take another field trip anytime soon, and these are all pretty far from where we live.”
    “Well, where do you all live, anyway?”
    In unison, we all chorus “Rochester.”  Chase tacks on “Minnesota” to that for whatever reason.
    Jake looks surprised.  “Rochester, Minnesota?”
    “That’s right,” I say.
    “Woah.”  Jake’s expression suddenly grows distant.  “I had no idea there was a Rochester in Minnesota.”
    Brian chimes in.  “I know!  Dude, I thought that was so weird when I learned that.  Then one day, I was thinking, ‘There’s probably a Rochester somewhere in every state, and we’ll never know about the other Rochesters because of the one in New York.’  That was profound.”
    Jake agrees.  “That is… rather profound.  But it's so simple.  How come I never thought of it?”
    I don’t see what’s so profound about it, but whatever.  I don’t like to be judgmental.
    There’s a lull in the conversation as we all think of what to do next.
    “Well, why don’t we just head home first and work all this ghost hunting out later?”  I suggest.  “Kenneth doesn’t have to eat for another month or so, so we shouldn’t sweat this right now.  It’s summer, after all.  We have to enjoy ourselves.”
    After a moment of mulling it over, Mr. Williams says, “That’s a good idea, Scarlett.  I know I don’t want to think about this sort of stuff for a good while now.”  He offers up a hollow laugh to lighten the mood.
    We all see that he’s not really feeling too hot after this harrowing night, but we can all fully empathize with him.  One by one we decide that yes, waiting a little while before taking on another challenge is a very good idea.  Once we’re all square on that, Jake stands up.
    “It’s about time that I get back to kitchen staff lodgings,” he says.  They’ll be wondering why I was out so late… heh, I’ll probably get fired.”
    “You seem awfully happy about that,” I mumble.
    “Well, jobs come and go.  I’m sure I’ll be able to find something else pretty soon.  I always do.  And besides, I got to witness Grindstone’s last stand tonight.  I think that the most I could have possibly asked from this job.”  He grins again.
    “Hey, um… wait!”  Brian says, suddenly standing up.  “Jake, can I have your number?  I mean, now that you know about our ghostly adventures we can’t lost contact altogether, right?  And you’re a pretty cool guy.”
    As gay as this invitation is, Jake takes it in stride, smiling broadly and saying.  “Hey, sure, it’s fine with me.  I’d love to help you guys in any way I can if you ever need it.”
    Now I wished I had just asked for the man’s phone number.  I guess it’s a little too late for that, though… I still catch it when he’s reciting it for Brian and discreetly enter it into my own phone for the future.  Hey, I’ll be fully legal in a few months—a girl can dream, right?
    As he leaves, he waves goodbye to us all one last time.  “It was a great pleasure to meet you all!  I hope we cross paths again some day!”
    And, once we all say goodbye to him, he walks out of our lives, just like that.  I don’t know if I will ever see him again.  But without knowing him for even an hour or maybe two, my life would have been completely different tonight.  We changed the future of this entire camp, and without him it wouldn’t have been possible.  The strangest part?  No one will ever know about what we did.
    I may not get the Rochester thing, but I think the effect of one person’s time on another’s is amazing.  That, my friend, is truly profound.

~~~

    Speaking of the effect of one person on another’s life, I think the next case is going to be a profound example.
    We all take it easy at Sandstone for the rest of the week.  We see Jake once more, when he tells us that he wasn’t fired.  In fact, he’s being considered something of a campsite hero for his actions against Grindstone.  We share a bit of the fame and end up in the local newspaper.  It makes for a nice finish for our report and the Audubon Society gives us a partial refund for our stay.  Didn’t know so many people were that superstitious, but it works well for us to say the least!
    When I get back home I feel refreshed and ready to take on whatever challenge that the club will throw at us next.
    That’s when I get the text message.
    I had sort of forgotten about the “no reception at camp” thing until I get home and realize my mom tried to call me daily.  Oops.  Fortunately she understands the situation when I explain it to her, although she still thinks they should build telephone poles or do something so phones can still get reception out in the middle of nowhere.  I almost try to explain to her that this defeats the entire purpose of the Audubon Society’s goal, but realize it’s a pointless goal and head upstairs to check if I missed any other important messages in my stay at Sandstone.
    I notice there’s a text message from a number I don’t recognize.  But the phone displays the first line of text: Hi scarlett its d… so it’s either a majorly eerie coincidental wrong number or someone who I only marginally know is trying to contact me.  I open it.
    Then I nearly drop my phone in surprise.

    Hi scarlett its dean i know ths might b wierd but cn i c u plz its important

    Translated out of text-talk, the message reads, “Hi Scarlett.  It’s Dean.  I know this might be weird, but can I see you, please?  It’s important.”
    Part of me wants to delete the message and forget it ever happened.  Another part of me is curious to figure out what is wrong.  Another part of me thinks Dean is really sexy and knows this is probably my only chance.  Two parts win out over one, and I slowly hit the reply button and type out the following message.

    Hi dean srry 4 late reply on vaykay @ state park! lol when cn we meet?

    And that reads, “Hi, Dean.  Sorry for the late reply; I was on vacation at a state park!  Hahaha.  When can we meet?”
    I hit send, and part of me regrets it as soon as I do.  I try and squash that part out as quickly as I can.  It’s barely been a minute when I get a reply to my message; Dean must be a really fast texter.

    Thanx cn we meet Tuesday 2pm @ city cafe? ill pay

    I think I almost