Page 14 of Monkey Business

Gus stopped, breathlessly staring at those around him. He looked down at himself, then the pile of clothing at his feet. Muttering to himself, he stared at them, then hit the sides of his head. In a flash of light, he was clothed, seated on the ground.

“It’s alright, Gus,” said Noah softly. “It’s going to be alright.”

“I’m mad. I’m crazy as a loon,” he whispered. “I’d tell you all to kill me, but I’m already dead, so you can’t.”

“No. You’re confused,” said Archie. “You’re not crazy, sir.”

“Come with me,” said Matthew. “Let’s take a walk.” He waved Gus toward the gardens, and the man walked away with him, Archie, Grip, and Eagle Feather following.

“Franklin? Have you ever seen anything like this?” asked Miller.

“Not in all my years on this earth,” he frowned. “We can all feel things from the other ghosts, and I’m feeling pain, confusion, hatred, love, all of it from that man. He’s got a powerful secret, but it’s buried deep. I think he might have been sick before he died, but he’s been in this transition period a long time, so it never fully took for him.”

“What do you mean?” asked Nine.

“I can answer that,” smiled Julia. “Gus died, but he never moved on. He was stuck between the worlds, much like our ghosts. But that means they are stuck exactly as they were on earth. We need to find out more about Gus when he was alive.” Wilson hugged his daughter, kissing the top of her head.

“Well done, honey.”

“Can we pinpoint when Gus first started taking things on the property?” asked Ghost.

“As far as we know,” said Code, “the first time was last Thursday.”

“Last Thursday,” muttered Miller. “That’s when the circus fair came to town. Does anyone think that could have anything to do with this?”

“I don’t know how. He was a truck driver, not a circus or fair guy,” said Gaspar.

“He could have driven equipment or something for the circus. Possibly even animals,” said Miller. “Can we see if he ever worked for them?” They all turned, staring at Code, who had his laptop open in the grove.

“He’s a bit of a mystery,” he frowned. “Because he was independent, it doesn’t always show what his cargo was.”

“Maybe we need to confront him once we feel he’s in a good place,” said Nine.

“I’m in a good place,” said the man, frowning. “I’m so sorry. Terribly, terribly sorry. I don’t think I’ve ever done that before. I can’t remember. Why can’t I remember?”

“We’re not sure, Gus. But we’re going to try and help you,” said Nine.

“Gus, we’ve been able to gather some information about you and your death,” said Trak. “We know this conversation will be difficult for you, but what do you remember about the last load you carried in your trailer?”

“My last load? It was circus equipment. I picked up a load from El Paso.”

“Did you inspect it?” asked Angel.

“I-I’m not sure. I remember pulling into the yard where they load the equipment and walked across the street to get something to eat. I don’t remember walking back,” he frowned.

“Gus, were you becoming forgetful when you were living?” asked Wilson.

“I suppose some,” he nodded. “It was silly things. I’d walk into a room and forget why I was there, or I forgot to pay some bills one month, then the next month paid them twice. Just random things.”

“You could have had the beginning symptoms of dementia or Alzheimer’s, Gus. I know it seems impossible. You weren’t that old, but it can happen very early on,” said Wilson empathetically.

He frowned, staring at the men around him.

“Why did you ask about the last load?” asked Gus. Angel took a deep breath and turned to Trak, who nodded for him to tell him.

“Gus, your last load was people.”

“People?” he laughed. “No. I didn’t haul people. I didn’t have a bus, and my trailer wasn’t heated or air-conditioned. No. I didn’t haul living things ever.”

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