Page 6 of Scammed

“Matthew, Marcel shouldn’t be able to touch her. None of the ghosts have ever been able to touch live human flesh. How do you explain this?” asked Wilson.

“Sometimes, things cannot be explained, son. The girl is alive and just appears to have a bump on her head. Let’s get her to the clinic and see how we can help.”

Before Wilson could say anything else, they were in the back of the ATV, both watching over the prone body of the young woman. Wilson turned to Marcel.

“Have you ever been able to ride in one of the vehicles?” he asked.

“Never. It’s been a dream,” he grinned.

“Well, let’s see if this dream continues for you.” He walked toward the ATV, watching as Marcel moved around the strange contraption. He looked different somehow, but Wilson couldn’t put his finger on it. As he stood at the door, Wilson nodded at him.

Slowly Marcel reached to touch the leather of the seat, watching as his hand rested on the back. It didn’t pass through. It didn’t disappear. He touched it and felt the smooth finish of the leather.

“I-I can feel it,” he whispered.

“Get in, Marcel. We’ll figure this out later. I need to look at the girl.”

The entire way on the path, Marcel ran his hand along the door, the dash, then finally reached over and touched Wilson’s big arm. It was firm and strong, just as it looked, but he was also warm.

“You feel warm,” he said to Wilson.

“So do you,” frowned the other man. “Irene? Matthew? How?”

“I honestly don’t know,” said Irene, shrugging. “Y’all know I prayed for a companion for Marcel when all the ghosts appeared, but she’s flesh and blood.”

“Maybe your prayer was backwards,” said Wilson. “Maybe the woman was praying for someone, and it helped Marcel.”

Cruz and Doc were waiting to take the stretcher into the emergency room, Marcel staring at them all, unsure of what to do. When he reached the door, he touched the handle and was surprised that he was able to turn it and enter like any other human being.

“Marcel, have a seat in the waiting area,” said Ajei. He nodded, unsure of what to do. He walked through the halls like any other human, sat in the chair, and two little boys stared at him.

“Mister, how come you’re dressed funny?” asked one of the boys.

At first, Marcel didn’t know what to say. He looked behind and beside him, then back at the little boys.

“Justin! That’s not nice. You apologize to the man.”

“Sorry, mister.”

“I’m sorry, you must have been at one of the reenactments,” said the boy’s mother. Marcel nodded, unable to speak at all. As the clock ticked and others arrived, Gaspar and Nine took him to the back of the clinic.

“Marcel, what happened?” asked Gaspar.

Marcel moved toward him, reaching out to touch the fabric of his shirt. Gaspar frowned at him, waiting for the cold sensation that inevitably happened. Instead, he felt warm skin gripping his shirt. His eyes were enormous, utterly shocked.

“What the shit?” growled Nine. The once ghostly figure reached for him as well, and Nine instinctively reached to block his hand, surprised when he gripped flesh. Marcel was big. Nearly as big as Alec and Tailor.

“Fuck me, what did Mama do now?” whispered Gaspar.

“I don’t think it was your mother,” said Marcel in a whisper.

“Pops?” he frowned.

“I’m not sure. I went to help the woman in the boat, to try and convince her not to kill herself. She dropped the gun, and it shot holes in the boat. I was so frightened, so I prayed that I could help her, and I was able to do so. I lifted her and carried her across the water. I touched her, and now, I can touch everything.”

“Okay, we have two things we need answered. One, why did that young woman want to kill herself, and two, how the fuck are you back to life.”

CHAPTER FOUR

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