We Used To Be Ghosts Read online

you later.”

  Monday night hadn’t gone as smoothly as I wanted, but Charlie and Marlo are the phenomenal at their jobs. No one lives an easy life, but we have chosen to walk an especially twisted road. Or perhaps, we are chosen to walk this road?

  Memories, terrible, frightening, memories flood my mind. Cuts on my arms, from the broken bottle that was thrown at me. Alcohol pooling around my feet, my socks getting soaked, my clothes are dirty. Hatred spewing out and driving it’s way into my ears. Silence is my only option, no tears or crying will save me. I’m outside of time, have no place. Can no one see the stains on my bones, poison in my blood? Have I really had a choice?

  I remember my sister, my bossy beautiful vivacious courageous sister. She found a way to get us free, but in the end, only I escaped alive. Our aunt drowned her in a bathtub. How much hate does it take to do that? I meet girls, boys, women, even men, like me and it’s hard to choke down my memories. Sometimes I want to scream, remembering my own weakness. Why aren’t we strong enough? Why does no one notice? HELP US! Please, just please, can’t you see? Can’t you help...?

  My memories are suffocating. Working with EXCOR helps. Helping others learn to be strong. I can’t quit, there are too many out here, too many neglected people. EXCOR isn’t bound by red tape. We refuse to be.

  We help people talk to the police, disappear, and sometimes things get more than a little violent. Months of planning go into an escape. EXCOR’s everywhere, always on the lookout for someone who doesn’t know who we are, and can use us. We’re not able to save everyone, that’s not possible. But I take action, in ways that would surprise a person who saw me walking down the street.

  I look up at the clock and realize that it’s almost 10 o’clock. I’ve been thinking about the past and the job, and just barely finished my schoolwork. I’ll be receiving calls during the next two hours starting in ten minutes. I head to my study; it’s time to get started.

  My cell, a prepaid, rings. We like to do the whole untraceable deal. I pick up. It’s Don.

  “Hey. Rosie. Sorry about last night. I didn’t expect things to turn out that way.”

  “It happens, Charlie did the clean-up. We can move forward. What info have you got for me? I need to update my files.”

  “We can ship the packages in three days. All three are a go. Traveling express, northbound. Anything else?”

  “No, That’s all for now. The northern branch is going to be handling the receiving end of things. Just had to confirm shipment.”

  “Okay. Well, that’s all on my end. Be good.”

  “Yeah. Back at ya.”

  This second job in Austin should go better than Monday’s. Friday’s going to be a good day. It feels a bit silly sometimes to talk about people as shipments, and it feels stilted at times, but simple code is best. I finish the first shipment manifest, when my phone rings again. It’s Joy, she’s well, joyous.

  “Rosie! I’ve got a shipment I need to check in! It’s the cutest thing we’ve shipped so far. We should ship stuffed animals more often. I think our business would really kick off. Anyway, package received, with no damage during delivery. I’m going to take it to a specialist though, it needs a bit of repair.”

  “Thanks Joy. Be good.”

  “Bye!”

  I’m glad that boy from California made it all right. From what I know his grandparents were pretty terrible to him. He’ll be okay under Joy. She loves all the kids who come to her, makes them feel like they can be loved, which is no easy thing I can tell you.

  I log in that good news. Next call I get from Richie— he handles law stuff over in Louisiana. He’s won his case. Richie’s dependable like that. His opponents never know what’s coming to them, because despite how good he is, he’s even better at playing fluff. Perception and reality, they can be two different things.

  I’m feeling really good today, with all this good news coming in. EXCOR is having a good day on the whole. I get calls from Missouri, Nebraska, Utah, and one from Alaska. Then that call comes in. Before a word is spoken, I hear sorrow over the line. I brace myself.

  “Rosie, I… the package never made it to shipping. Someone…I….”

  It’s James, and he’s breaking down on the other line. We were trying to get the police to break a pedophile ring made up of men and women all over New York. James was in charge of this sweet brave little girl. She was the kind of smart that freaks people (adults) out. She contacted us, was going to testify and everything.

  “Jamie, listen to me. We’re going to finish this. Distribution might still to be possible. Once we deliver our packages, new residences will be available for those who deserve them. Remember how welcoming the neighborhood is, especially given their hobbies? Much better than the one you might be thinking of as an alternate. I can give you some time to think about it.”

  “I… I think you’re right. There’s enough info going to the right people, and we were able to get the rest of them. After this though—”

  “I’ll let George know you need time off, I’m emailing him right now.”

  “Thanks Rosie. I’ll be good. Don’t worry. I’ll see this to the end.”

  “I trust you, and I know you’ll do us proud.”

  Beep.

  It takes all I have not to sink into oblivion. That poor girl, she didn’t deserve that. Nobody does. My insides are on fire, and I feel anger fill every cell. It escapes, roaring out and I feel my cheeks flush. My fingers stab my keyboard. Heat floods and washes over me, I try to breathe but everything hurts. I just want to stab those guys over and over and over. To let their blood flow out and out and out, cut them into tiny pieces, feed them to a fire. Burn them out of existence. My intake time is done, luckily. I wouldn’t be able to talk to anyone right now.

  For some reason, I see my sister in my doorway, and she’s smiling. She tells me that I might look as good as her some day. The absurdity of that makes me laugh, but she can see right through me. She just gives me a look, telling me to get it together already.

  I smile, and though it’s a delusion, it soothes me. I calm down enough to think rationally. I think about how people can become so warped. I’ve done quite a bit of research, and I know that patterns like that can be brought down through cycles of abuse. It only makes me feel a bit less like flying over to New York and killing that s.o.b.

  I have to let loose, cool down. Barton Springs is my best bet, a hard run there, extra bonus. It’s miles away, and I need it. I get my stuff together, and get ready for my run. Chucho gives me a very sad look. I’m not going to take him for all his sulking, I’d end up having to carry his butt back once he ran out of steam.

  I live close to the trail. When I get there, I take some time to stretch and then set off on a steady pace west. Running on the trail settles my heart, and I’m sweating like a horse once I pass the two-mile marker. I start to debate whether or not I really want to go all the way to the pool, but I shake the thought out of my head. Finish what you start, I tell myself. So I keep going for forever, with the spring sun gently bathing me in warmth, observing my surroundings. I finally reach the Congress Bridge, and make my way over to the southern side of the lake.

  I keep going along, and it happens to be my pleasure to be defecated upon by grackles. This sucks. I hate getting pooped on by birds. It’s happened more often than I would like, I’ll admit. I’m extra glad there are showers by the pool. After the distance I’ve already run it seems like a hop, a skip, and the entrance to heaven is in front of me.

  I head to the showers first, wash off the bird poop and my sweat. After changing into my swimsuit, I wobble down the concrete steps, and ease myself into the cold water. My skin immediately reacts and I’m covered in goose bumps. It’s a weekday so there’s hardly anyone here. I adjust to the water and eventually begin my laps. I go back and forth admiring the fish, turtles, and crustaceans. The movement of my limbs underwater and the refraction of light entrance me. The adrenaline rush fades, and I just drift for a while. The
water washes away all my agony, and I am at peace.

  When I manage to leave the pool, I’m shriveled and have a tinge of blue at the end of my fingertips. I look at my phone, it’s almost 5 o’clock. I’d better get home quickly. I’ll have to call a cab.

  The drive home isn’t as quick as I’d want, traffic’s getting heavy now. It seems that the way back home is even longer than my run. Several accidents on I-35 don’t help. Still I make it home before my rentals. Before they get back, I decide to make a quick call to Charlie.

  “Charlie, has Jamie called you?”

  “Yeah. I’m going to be giving him some back up. Don’t worry.”

  “Thanks, I just wanted to make sure. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

  He sighs over the line. We let silence pass between us. At last, he breaks it, “I’d better go, work... Stay safe and—”

  “Be good. Yeah. You too.”

  I hear a car approaching, Robert’s back. Caroline’s car pulls up just a minute later. They come in and Caroline makes her way to the hall bathroom. She promptly rediscovers her mess.

  “Rosie! Come here now! Explain this to me!”

  Today’s been bad. I’m not even going to feel sorry about this. I leave my room, and walk towards her. She’s shaking with anger, and I look at her blankly.

  “What is this mess in the bathroom? Why didn’t you clean it up? Do you like living in a