it?"
"My mind
isn't made up, if you want to know the truth. There could always be a different explanation, but I think the most
likely thing is that I saw a ghost."
"Does it
bother you?"
"Not much
besides getting wet for nothing."
I looked at
her, trying to read whatever she was thinking from the expression on her face
as the fog thickened even more. Mary
became a silhouette, every detail of her body and face hidden by the heavy
condensation. Even from only a few feet
away the visibility was almost gone.
"You
aren't afraid of ghosts?" She
seemed a little surprised by the notion.
"Well,
I've only seen one, and I'm still not completely sure she was a ghost."
She nodded.
"I think
maybe you're a little worried about it though. Am I right?"
She nodded
again and I could hear her swallowing before she answered. "I've seen a few things."
"Then why
are you still doing this?"
"You mean
the parapsychology thing?"
"Yeah. If you
know that ghosts are real, haven't you already proven everything you need to
prove?"
"We know
there are other planets, but we still keep going out there and looking for more
proof, don't we?" She turned in her
seat and looked at me, her elbows resting on her knees. "We keep looking deeper into the oceans,
too."
"Good
point. But if a deep-sea diver gets
bitten by enough sharks, he stops diving."
"What
makes you think I've been bitten?"
I wasn't sure
I wanted to answer that. It's the sort
of question that can be a double-edged sword: answer it truthfully and you risk pissing off a client. Answer with a lie, or a half-truth, and you look insufferably stupid or weak.
"You want
the politically correct answer? Or do
you want it straight up?"
"I prefer
straight up."
"You look
haunted." It wasn't meant as a
joke, but it could have been taken as one. Mary Parsons didn't take it that way.
"Do you
run away from everything that ever bothered you?"
"No. But I don't always invite it to bother me
again, either." And did I sound
defensive myself? Probably. We all have our secrets, and I had more than
my fair share.
"I take
more precautions that I used to, Captain Joe, but I
can't turn my back on my life's work because of a few strange
occurrences." She spoke slowly and
carefully, choosing each word as precisely as a surgeon chooses the right
implements of his trade."
"Call me
Joe, okay?"
"I'll
work on it." She smiled an apology
that wasn't necessary.
"I think
I should read a few of your books sometime."
"If I had
my spares with me, I'd give them to you."
"Maybe
I'll check out the bookstore tomorrow."
The lights
from the distant lighthouse were working about as well as a neon sign for
distracting me. Every few seconds the
night turned white and then vanished again.
Mary cleared
her throat. "So, Joe, when was the
last time you was a wooden ship?"
"What? You mean like a full-size ship? Not a yacht?"
"Exactly."
"I saw
Old Ironsides once, when I was a kid."
She pointed
out into the fog, and I followed her index finger. At first I saw nothing but more of the
swirling mists, and then as the beam from the lighthouse came around again, I
saw the shadowy shape of a ship, complete with three masts and furled sails. The angle was wrong to even guess the size,
but she could have eaten the Isabella for a light snack.
As soon as I
saw her, she was gone again, lost in the heavy fog and darkness.
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph. How long has that been there?"
"About
three minutes."
"Where
did she come from?"
"She just
showed up. She hasn't moved at
all."
"That's
not possible. A ship
that size doesn't exactly sneak in without someone seeing it."
"Joe,
look at where she is in the water..." Mary's voice was very soft.
I had to think
about it, because the water couldn’t even be seen from where we were. Somehow the ship had gotten past the reef and
never even been seen coming in. Believe
me; I would have known if it
"My mind
isn't made up, if you want to know the truth. There could always be a different explanation, but I think the most
likely thing is that I saw a ghost."
"Does it
bother you?"
"Not much
besides getting wet for nothing."
I looked at
her, trying to read whatever she was thinking from the expression on her face
as the fog thickened even more. Mary
became a silhouette, every detail of her body and face hidden by the heavy
condensation. Even from only a few feet
away the visibility was almost gone.
"You
aren't afraid of ghosts?" She
seemed a little surprised by the notion.
"Well,
I've only seen one, and I'm still not completely sure she was a ghost."
She nodded.
"I think
maybe you're a little worried about it though. Am I right?"
She nodded
again and I could hear her swallowing before she answered. "I've seen a few things."
"Then why
are you still doing this?"
"You mean
the parapsychology thing?"
"Yeah. If you
know that ghosts are real, haven't you already proven everything you need to
prove?"
"We know
there are other planets, but we still keep going out there and looking for more
proof, don't we?" She turned in her
seat and looked at me, her elbows resting on her knees. "We keep looking deeper into the oceans,
too."
"Good
point. But if a deep-sea diver gets
bitten by enough sharks, he stops diving."
"What
makes you think I've been bitten?"
I wasn't sure
I wanted to answer that. It's the sort
of question that can be a double-edged sword: answer it truthfully and you risk pissing off a client. Answer with a lie, or a half-truth, and you look insufferably stupid or weak.
"You want
the politically correct answer? Or do
you want it straight up?"
"I prefer
straight up."
"You look
haunted." It wasn't meant as a
joke, but it could have been taken as one. Mary Parsons didn't take it that way.
"Do you
run away from everything that ever bothered you?"
"No. But I don't always invite it to bother me
again, either." And did I sound
defensive myself? Probably. We all have our secrets, and I had more than
my fair share.
"I take
more precautions that I used to, Captain Joe, but I
can't turn my back on my life's work because of a few strange
occurrences." She spoke slowly and
carefully, choosing each word as precisely as a surgeon chooses the right
implements of his trade."
"Call me
Joe, okay?"
"I'll
work on it." She smiled an apology
that wasn't necessary.
"I think
I should read a few of your books sometime."
"If I had
my spares with me, I'd give them to you."
"Maybe
I'll check out the bookstore tomorrow."
The lights
from the distant lighthouse were working about as well as a neon sign for
distracting me. Every few seconds the
night turned white and then vanished again.
Mary cleared
her throat. "So, Joe, when was the
last time you was a wooden ship?"
"What? You mean like a full-size ship? Not a yacht?"
"Exactly."
"I saw
Old Ironsides once, when I was a kid."
She pointed
out into the fog, and I followed her index finger. At first I saw nothing but more of the
swirling mists, and then as the beam from the lighthouse came around again, I
saw the shadowy shape of a ship, complete with three masts and furled sails. The angle was wrong to even guess the size,
but she could have eaten the Isabella for a light snack.
As soon as I
saw her, she was gone again, lost in the heavy fog and darkness.
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph. How long has that been there?"
"About
three minutes."
"Where
did she come from?"
"She just
showed up. She hasn't moved at
all."
"That's
not possible. A ship
that size doesn't exactly sneak in without someone seeing it."
"Joe,
look at where she is in the water..." Mary's voice was very soft.
I had to think
about it, because the water couldn’t even be seen from where we were. Somehow the ship had gotten past the reef and
never even been seen coming in. Believe
me; I would have known if it
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