halfway open, as always, and I put my
shoulder to it. The heavy wood scraped loudly across the bare stone floor,
raising a cloud of dust. I coughed and sneezed a few times and peered into the
gloom. Nothing had changed.
The pews were still stacked up against the far wall to make room
for Jacob’s giant black leather reclining chair, and beside it sat an
old-fashioned refrigerator that was somehow always full of ethereal booze. A
massive old television stood before the chair, with real rabbits’ ears piled on
top to help with the reception. Jacob didn’t look around as I approached. He
sprawled bonelessly in his great chair, a gray wispy figure who flickered in and
out as his concentration wavered. He looked older than death, his face a mass of
wrinkles, his bony skull graced with just a few long flyaway hairs. He was
currently wearing faded Bermuda shorts and a T-shirt bearing the legend Ghosts
Do It from Beyond. He chugged down the last of his beer and threw the can away.
It disappeared before it hit the floor. Jacob waved a gray hand jerkily in my
direction, leaving thin trails of ectoplasm on the air.
"Come in, Eddie, come in! And shut the door behind you. The
draughts play havoc with my old bones."
I stood my ground beside his chair, my arms folded across my
chest. "And what bones would those be, you disgusting old revenant?"
He scowled at me from under bushy white eyebrows. "You get to be
as ancient as me, lad, you’ll suffer a few aches and pains too. It’s not easy,
being this old. Or everybody would be doing it."
"How can you have aches and pains? You’re dead. You don’t have
an actual body anymore."
"That’s right! Rub it in! Just because I’m dead, it doesn’t mean
I don’t have feelings. The way the family treats me these days makes me spin in
my grave."
"You were cremated, Jacob."
"All right, I’ll turn in my urn!" He shut down his ghostly
television set with a snap of his fingers and finally turned to smile at me.
"Damn, it’s good to have you back, lad. None of the current generation have the
spunk to come out and talk to me. How long has it been, Eddie? I lose track in
here…"
"Ten years," I said.
He nodded slowly. "You’ve filled out nicely, lad. Good outfit,
rotten attitude, and you look like you could punch your weight. A credit to my
teachings. But what the hell are you doing back here, Eddie? You did the one
thing even I couldn’t do; you escaped."
"The family called me home," I said, trying hard to keep my
voice light and unconcerned. "I was kind of hoping you might know why."
Jacob sniffed and settled back in his reclining chair. The ghost
of a pipe appeared in his hand, and he sucked thoughtfully on the stem,
releasing thick puffs of ectoplasm that drifted up to the cobwebbed ceiling.
"Not much point in asking me, lad. The family’s been keeping me even more at
arm’s length than usual, of late. Of course, that doesn’t stop me from keeping a
watchful eye on them…" He grinned nastily at me. "You want all the latest
gossip, Eddie lad? You want to know who’s having who, who messed up in the field
again, and who came back stoned out of her mind and crashed the autogyro on the
roof landing pad?"
"Tell me everything," I said. "I think I need to know
everything."
Jacob waved his pipe away, and it disintegrated into drifting
streams of ectoplasm. He sat up straight in his chair and fixed me with a steady
gaze, his ancient eyes pinning me where I stood. "To start with, there’s a new
faction in the family. Gaining a lot of support, especially among the
youngsters. Basically, it boils down to a Let’s get them before they get us
strategy. This new faction is talking very loudly about the virtues of
preemptive strikes and a zero tolerance for all identified bad guys. No more
dealing with problems as they arise; stick it to the bad guys with extreme
prejudice, whether we can prove anything or not."
"If we were to declare open
shoulder to it. The heavy wood scraped loudly across the bare stone floor,
raising a cloud of dust. I coughed and sneezed a few times and peered into the
gloom. Nothing had changed.
The pews were still stacked up against the far wall to make room
for Jacob’s giant black leather reclining chair, and beside it sat an
old-fashioned refrigerator that was somehow always full of ethereal booze. A
massive old television stood before the chair, with real rabbits’ ears piled on
top to help with the reception. Jacob didn’t look around as I approached. He
sprawled bonelessly in his great chair, a gray wispy figure who flickered in and
out as his concentration wavered. He looked older than death, his face a mass of
wrinkles, his bony skull graced with just a few long flyaway hairs. He was
currently wearing faded Bermuda shorts and a T-shirt bearing the legend Ghosts
Do It from Beyond. He chugged down the last of his beer and threw the can away.
It disappeared before it hit the floor. Jacob waved a gray hand jerkily in my
direction, leaving thin trails of ectoplasm on the air.
"Come in, Eddie, come in! And shut the door behind you. The
draughts play havoc with my old bones."
I stood my ground beside his chair, my arms folded across my
chest. "And what bones would those be, you disgusting old revenant?"
He scowled at me from under bushy white eyebrows. "You get to be
as ancient as me, lad, you’ll suffer a few aches and pains too. It’s not easy,
being this old. Or everybody would be doing it."
"How can you have aches and pains? You’re dead. You don’t have
an actual body anymore."
"That’s right! Rub it in! Just because I’m dead, it doesn’t mean
I don’t have feelings. The way the family treats me these days makes me spin in
my grave."
"You were cremated, Jacob."
"All right, I’ll turn in my urn!" He shut down his ghostly
television set with a snap of his fingers and finally turned to smile at me.
"Damn, it’s good to have you back, lad. None of the current generation have the
spunk to come out and talk to me. How long has it been, Eddie? I lose track in
here…"
"Ten years," I said.
He nodded slowly. "You’ve filled out nicely, lad. Good outfit,
rotten attitude, and you look like you could punch your weight. A credit to my
teachings. But what the hell are you doing back here, Eddie? You did the one
thing even I couldn’t do; you escaped."
"The family called me home," I said, trying hard to keep my
voice light and unconcerned. "I was kind of hoping you might know why."
Jacob sniffed and settled back in his reclining chair. The ghost
of a pipe appeared in his hand, and he sucked thoughtfully on the stem,
releasing thick puffs of ectoplasm that drifted up to the cobwebbed ceiling.
"Not much point in asking me, lad. The family’s been keeping me even more at
arm’s length than usual, of late. Of course, that doesn’t stop me from keeping a
watchful eye on them…" He grinned nastily at me. "You want all the latest
gossip, Eddie lad? You want to know who’s having who, who messed up in the field
again, and who came back stoned out of her mind and crashed the autogyro on the
roof landing pad?"
"Tell me everything," I said. "I think I need to know
everything."
Jacob waved his pipe away, and it disintegrated into drifting
streams of ectoplasm. He sat up straight in his chair and fixed me with a steady
gaze, his ancient eyes pinning me where I stood. "To start with, there’s a new
faction in the family. Gaining a lot of support, especially among the
youngsters. Basically, it boils down to a Let’s get them before they get us
strategy. This new faction is talking very loudly about the virtues of
preemptive strikes and a zero tolerance for all identified bad guys. No more
dealing with problems as they arise; stick it to the bad guys with extreme
prejudice, whether we can prove anything or not."
"If we were to declare open
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