This Girl Who Was A Ghost Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Chapter Sixty

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  THE GIRL WHO WAS A GHOST

  Robert E. Cummings

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 by Robert E. Cummings

  All rights reserved.

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  Chapter One

  ________________________________________

  Sammy had become a creature of the night, lingering in the shadows of streetlights to keep her secret. She stood by the dining room window, waiting for the horizon to snuff out the last light of day and release her from the solitary confines of the apartment. Her tentacled fingers now reached down to her toes. She pressed two fingers against the floorboards, sensing the slightest vibrations of Leo’s comings and goings. He was behind and to the left, moving away. That put him in the hallway going toward the bedrooms.

  The wall was her connection to Cindy. The pitch of running water told her that Cindy was at the bathroom sink. The pipes shuddered, followed by the patter of bare feet.

  Leo ambled toward her; his pace picked up, then stopped no more than three feet away. He was quiet, wanting her to tell him where he was. She was tired of playing that game, the probing, and being a freak.

  Without turning around, she reached back and wrapped her middle finger around his ankle and yanked, sending him to the floor with a thump. “Is that the answer you wanted, Leo?”

  Leo groaned. “I’d prefer a verbal response.”

  She sensed his shifting weight on the floorboards. He wasn’t getting up. “You all right?”

  “Need to stretch my back out a bit. I’m not a kid anymore.”

  A door opened in Cindy’s apartment, formerly their apartment. It was Cindy’s bedroom door, each door with its own sound. Sammy pictured Cindy in the blue dress with the ruffled sleeves.

  Sammy turned to Leo. “Need a hand?”

  Leo nodded.

  Sammy wrapped her index finger around his hand and pulled him up. “Guess I’m not fit to be around.”

  Leo rotated his back. “You’ve been a little more surly than usual.”

  “You got a test for that too?”

  “I don’t delve into the psychological realm.”

  She lifted her hand. “These aren’t exactly getting any shorter.”

  “The genetic profile hasn’t changed, so there’s still hope that this condition can be reversed.”

  “Yeah, a hope and a prayer.”

  “You’ve gained control over the skin coloration.”

  “You think I care if I have a brick wall painted on my face if I got to walk around with these?” Sammy asked, twirling her hand.

  Leo seemed dazzled by the motion of the curling and unfurling tentacles.

  Sammy turned back, staring at the sun’s orange trail heading toward sunset. “I’m going.”

  “Going? Where?”

  Sammy shrugged. She could go to the country and find a quiet place where only the birds, chipmunks, and squirrels would see what kind of freak she was. There might even be a big tree, big enough to put a house on one of the branches, and the grass would be a cool green carpet where she could lie. She wouldn’t even need any shoes. There’d be apple trees too, and when she was hungry she’d pick an apple as big as a pumpkin.

  “Sam, let’s not do anything rash.”

  “You did all the tests, and nothing’s changed.”

  “It’s been what? Ten days?”

  Strange, how it seemed both longer and shorter than that. The days in the apartment seemed to go on forever, but the sound of Tatiana’s neck cracking seemed moments ago. How many times had she awakened to that sound? She had dreamed of the tentacles turning on her as if they had a mind of their own and decided to take retribution for her sins.

  “There are other tests I can run.”

  Was he afraid to lose his prized lab rat? “Thought you did all the tests?”

  “Those tests were designed to determine the next course of action. This is very early going, Sam.”

  “I knew it’d be a never-ending round of tests with you.”

  “Your condition is unique, so the variables in this case are numerous.”

  “You mean too many to figure it out.”

  “It means more testing.”

  Yeah, next on the menu was the maze, or was it the hamster wheel?

  “At least agree to an imaging scan.”

  “I thought we were going to do that last week.”

  “There were some setbacks on that front, but I’ve found a technician who will take an extended break for the right amount of psychedelics.”

  Sammy felt the tapping of Cindy’s heels like hammers driving spikes. The pace was quick. She must be running late. The door to the apartment opened and banged closed. “You better get going.”

  Leo dashed to the door. “I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

  “I swear you must be psychic, Leo,” Cindy shouted through the door. The heels thundered away.

  Leo slipped on his jacket. “You’ll be here when I get back?”

  Sammy nodded. She’d go out when it got dark like she always did, but tonight she wouldn’t come back. She strolled to the bedroom window, hoping to catch a last glimpse of them.

  Chapter Two

  ________________________________________

  Sammy flung the rope out the window, the other end tied to the leg of the dining room table. She climbed out and pulled a bag of h
er clothes with her. It only had a couple of shirts and a pair of trousers she’d stolen during one of her night walks. The tablet was still in Cindy’s apartment, and so were the rest of her clothes. She could use more clothes, and the tablet might come in handy.

  She surveyed her chances of using the fire escape to get into Cindy’s apartment, but the ladder was pushed all the way up and out of reach. If she swung from the rope, she might get enough lift to reach the fire escape. Sammy let go of the bag and dropped down on the rope. With her extended arm span, she created long arcs, giving her the sensation of flying. She wished she’d discovered this days ago. Approaching the height of the forward swing, she let go, reaching out, her heart racing at the thought of missing and crashing below. The middle finger snagged a slat.

  Sammy dangled precariously, but if she swung, she might lose her hold. She reached out to the brick wall, hoping to find something to grab. The suction cups held onto the wall, allowing her to pull up and secure her grip to the fire escape.

  Cat was looking up at her from below as if she were a meal about to drop. “Don’t they feed you?”

  Igor’s sister came to the window. Sammy pulled her feet up, but his sister spotted her and screamed. It was too risky to climb up on the fire escape and be exposed. The wall, she could hide on the wall. She let go of the fire escape and latched onto the side of the building, bringing her knees up to make herself look small. Think brick wall. She felt the cool brick and its rectangular contours.

  Mama jutted her head out the window, holding a long knife. She looked up toward Sammy. Did Mama see her?

  Sammy’s feet slipped. She pulled her knees up, trying to get a footing. Fine dirt and dusty mortar trickled down.

  Mama shot her another look. She shouted something in Russian. Sammy strapped both index fingers over her feet, bolting them to the wall. Mama had something in her hand. Sammy hoped it wasn’t a gun. A beam of light cut through the night. Shadowed slats cast off from the fire escape, moving up and down with the beam. Sammy held still.

  The light went out. The voices were quieter now and muffled by their indoor confines. Igor’s sister called out to the cat. Cat looked up at Sammy with an expectant gaze and meowed.

  Sammy smiled, wondering how Cat would take to the tentacles.

  Igor’s sister had pebbles of food in her hand, trying to coax him in, but Cat didn’t take his eyes off of Sammy as if hoping for a bigger prize.

  Sammy grabbed the rail to the fire escape and pulled up and over the rail. She opened the window and climbed in. The apartment was dark, but she could see her way around. The layout of all the apartments seemed to be the same, a counter separated the kitchen and the dining room, beyond that were the living room and the front door, and splitting the kitchen and the living room on her right was the hallway to the bedrooms and the bathroom.

  Sammy’s arms were painted in the red brick of the building. She took in a deep breath and blew it out, then shook as if she were shaking off dust and dirt. The red brick faded away.

  The place was pretty much the same, except messier. Cindy wasn’t exactly a clean freak. A sweet floral scent of Cindy’s perfume wafted in the air. Sammy twirled her fingers, taking in the aromas: toasted bread, the greasy residue of cooked beef, the tangy sweetness of spilled pineapple juice, the pungent, earthy odor of garbage long overdue for being tossed. Somehow she knew Cat was behind her, standing on the windowsill. Maybe his scent was mixed in with everything else.

  She turned slowly. Cat’s keen gaze followed the long tendrils of her fingers. Sammy curled her fingers up and tucked her hands behind her back. Cat jumped down from the sill and rubbed against Sammy’s leg, arching his back. Sammy flicked her finger out and rubbed behind his ear. The strands of fur bent and sprang away from her touch like the blades of soft grass.

  Cat looped around her leg and stopped to smell her finger. He licked the back, scraping the skin with his coarse tongue. She wanted to pick him up but was afraid she’d hurt him. “I’ll see if she has anything for you.”

  Cat followed her around the counter, then stopped by the kitchen opening. The light from the refrigerator momentarily blinded her. The refrigerator needed a good cleaning too. Sammy ripped off a piece of chicken from a breast that was nearing its expiration date. She shredded the chicken and put it on one of the half a dozen plates from the sink.

  “I know it’s not bacon, but that’s all I got.”

  Cat crouched over the plate, lapping up the strands of chicken.

  “Still better than that pebble food.”

  Sammy walked past him and into the hallway. She stopped by her bedroom, trying to remember the last time she was there. The night before everything changed, she’d slept on the ripped chair in the junk room. It seemed like ages ago. She emptied the dresser drawers of underwear, three trousers, and five shirts.

  In Cindy’s room, dresses were piled up on a chair, the bed, and the dresser drawers. Sammy took one and pressed it up to her chin. The hem hung low like on one of those church ladies. The sweet floral scent of Cindy was strong, almost overpowering. She put the dress back and walked out.

  Cat sat up by the empty plate, licking his paws.

  Sammy put her clothes on the dining room table and figured she’d clean out the sink before leaving. She washed three dishes at a time and snickered at the thought of getting a job as a dishwasher.

  Cat seemed to have enjoyed the plate-twirling show, or maybe he was just looking for more chicken.

  “I’d take you with me but don’t know where I’m going. You’re safer here with the Russians and their pebble food, anyway.”

  Cat rubbed against the side of her leg and licked her finger.

  Sammy stroked behind his ear. She liked the feel of the soft fur against her finger.

  Cat tilted his head as if he’d heard something. Sammy pressed her fingers along the floor. Someone was coming. Her first thought was Igor or his sister looking for Cat, but the sound was wrong. It was the tap of heels. Cindy? She wasn’t due back for hours. Somebody else was with her. Leo? No, the step was too heavy.

  Sammy ran for the window, but Cat skirted in front, tripping her. The lock clicked open and the lights flashed on, turning everything white.

  Chapter Three

  ________________________________________

  Sammy crawled behind the dining room table, wary of trampling Cat. She peered over the table and spotted Cindy, who stood by the door, looking as though she were waiting for an invitation.

  “Looks like a nice place,” the guy behind her said. He seemed to fill the door; must be one of Johnny’s guys.

  “What am I going to do?”

  “How about stepping inside?”

  Cindy took a few tentative steps.

  The guy slipped in behind her as if the hallway were freezing and closed the door. His hair was dark and close-cropped. His face had a golden-brown tint from one of those spray-on tans. “Me and my buddies have a place on the other side of the bridge. It’s not any better than this.”

  “Sam found it.”

  “A friend of yours?”

  Cindy nodded, staring blankly.

  “Is he around?”

  “Who?”

  “Your friend, this Sam guy.”

  “Sam’s a girl…or was. I haven’t seen her since she walked off with Tatiana, but Tatiana’s dead.”

  “You think she killed her?”

  Cindy searched his face. “I don’t know.”

  “I knew a guy from the neighborhood who went to prison, but it wasn’t for murder.”

  “Never thought about prison.”

  The big lug chuckled. “I won’t tell the cops where you live.”

  What was he talking about?

  Cindy forced a smile. “Don’t you have to get back to work?”

  He shook his head. “Rhino’s covering for me.”

  “Thanks for taking me home.” Cindy stepped to the edge of the living room and gazed down the hallway.

  He followed he
r. “You’re going to need somebody now that you’re a wanted criminal. I’m sure you’ll find a way to repay the favor.”

  Wanted criminal?

  Cindy leaned back. “I’ll get by.”

  He was looking at her as if she were a rack of ribs. “You should be a dancer.”

  “That’s not for me.”

  “You got the body for it.”

  Cindy tugged at her dress’s shoulder strap.

  “The pay is great. What those girls make in tips…” he said, looking off as if he were counting the bills.

  “Can’t work at the club anyway.”

  “That’ll blow over.”

  Toupee Johnny fired her?

  “In the meantime, I can help with your moves.” His gaze danced over her. “I’ve worked in all kinds of clubs and seen plenty of dancers.”

  Cindy slipped off her shoes. “You should get back. Don’t want you to get into trouble.”

  “I said Rhino was covering for me.” His voice had an edge to it.

  Sammy thought of hurling a chair at him.

  “Johnny is going to find out you’re missing, covering or not.”

  The slimeball circled the living room, taking notice of the crack in the ceiling. “He’s got a small army of guys. He won’t even know I’m gone.”

  “I kind of want to be alone right now.”

  “You got a beer or something?”

  How about a chair over the head?

  Cindy shook her head. “There might be some pineapple juice in the fridge.”

  “Should’ve stopped for some beer.”

  “You want the juice?”

  He shrugged. “Sure.”

  Sammy looked for something to throw but spotted her clothes on the table. She flicked her finger over the pile and pulled it to the floor.

  “Whoa, what was that?”

  Cindy spun around.

  “Looked like a snake on the table.”

  Damn it. He saw her.

  Cindy approached the table. “I don’t see anything.”

  “It jumped to the floor.”

  Cindy backed away.

  “Got a knife or something?”