Page 9 of Monkey Business

“It is fascinating, Mr. Ghost, but it’s also important. It can be measured, and I’ve been measuring it along with Monroe and some of the others for a while now. Two weeks ago, we started seeing a very strange spike in the energies that were being expelled.”

“Spike? Like more ghosts?” asked Antoine.

“No. One ghost. One very odd but maybe powerful ghost. I’m not sure,” said Victoria. “Archie and Charity have some answers.”

“We’re all ears,” said Whiskey.

“We don’t think this spirit knows that it’s dead,” said Archie. “A few weeks ago, we encountered a spirit out on Devil’s Island. He was speaking to himself and arranging some items. When we approached, he froze as if frightened by us.”

“What did you say?” asked Ian.

“I told him that we were the same,” said Archie. “I had no idea that he didn’t know he was dead. He stared at me, shaking his head, and kept repeating, ‘it’s impossible, it’s impossible.’ He ran toward the other end of the island and then we couldn’t see him.”

“Couldn’t see him?” repeated Miller. “How is that possible?”

“He is considered liminal. The state between life and death,” said Victoria. “Many indigenous tribes believe that death is not the end. You don’t just go away. You continue to make decisions about life and the world from this in-between state.”

“So, wait. Is this guy making decisions about something or someone? What’s his story?” asked Jean.

“We’re not sure,” said Archie. “We would like for a few of you to go with us to Devil’s Island and try to get him to appear to us again. He’s very good at hiding.”

“Why now? Why did he suddenly appear?” asked Nine.

“That’s what we’re not certain of,” said Victoria. “He could have unfinished business, or he could need something and not know how to tell us.”

“So, you’re proposing that a few of us go out there with you three?” asked Gaspar.

“Yes. Not all of you. I think it might frighten him.”

“Okay,” nodded Gaspar. “Jesus, we’ve become ghost hunters.” The others laughed, nodding.

“Alright, who’s going out to Devil’s Island?” asked Ian.

“I’ll go,” said Trak. They all stared at him as he stood, standing beside young Victoria.

“Me too,” said Angel.

“Me three,” smirked Cruz.

“That should be enough. Be careful. We’ll be waiting in the boats while you figure this out.”

He stacked his items carefully beneath his makeshift shelter. He needed to be sure that they didn’t get wet or that they weren’t stolen by the strange people he’d met the other day. This island was his. He found it.

Or did he? He couldn’t remember how he’d actually gotten to the island. It felt as though he’d woken up one morning, and this was his home. He sometimes would find himself in other parts of the property with all the strange people around him, but it seemed they completely ignored him. He was fine with that. He ignored them as well.

He set the stacks of cloth remnants on the bench he’d made from wood and twine. At least, he thought he’d made it. He’d enjoyed the hot coffee that the woman had set on the porch for him. He thanked her, but she just turned and walked away.

Maybe he needed to shower? Or formally introduce himself. Hearing the sounds of the boats approaching the property, he began walking toward the beautiful docks that had been installed. They were coming onto his island. This was his.

Trying to remain calm, he approached them and began yelling at the young man and woman. The others didn’t seem to even see him.

“He’s here,” said the man to the others.

“Of course, I’m here. This is my island! Leave!” demanded the spirit.

“Sir, we mean you no harm,” said Archie. “We only want to talk to you about why you’re here.”

“So, you’re finally gonna speak to me like I’m a human being. Well, I don’t like you, and I don’t need people. Get off my island!”

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