The Bone Bridge- Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Adam’s soft-spoken voice filled my ears and, to my surprise, tears filled my eyes. I pressed the buds closer into my ears, trying to tune out the background hiss and background chatter.

“The thing that sucks the most about what’s happened to me since the accident is that I feel like I’m failing people. I mean, I don’t exactly go out of my way to invite them into my bedroom by the dozens and it isn’t right that they try to make their problems mine. They’re not my problems. I just want my fuckin’ life back and be like everyone else.

“But I’m not like everyone else. I never was and never will be. I’m special to them and that’s why they come to me. I can’t help them all but it really depresses me that I can’t help these poor people. I mean, I’m not the only person who’s ever had a near death experience and their lives don’t turn into Ghost Busters movies. And the stories they tell me…”

“Like what stories, Adam?”

“I dunno, Oliver. My mind’s kinda gone blank all of a sudden. OK, there were these twin girls who were sittin’ on my bed just before my sister knocked on my door. They were like 16, 17. They were killed in some car wreck about a year ago. They were still worried their parents were gonna ground them even longer if they found out they snuck out.

“They were killed the same way I was almost killed along with my girlfriend; I snuck out of my house when I was grounded, too. But they didn’t even know they were fuckin’ dead, dude. They still thought the worst thing in the world was to be grounded by their parents.”

“Tell me about your girlfriend. What has she said to you?”

“If you’re looking for her to give you the four one one about what happened on Halloween night, dude, you’re shit out of luck. She wasn’t even there. She was with me in Braintree, remember?”

“Has she said anything about seeing her parents?”

“No, which I hafta admit is kinda strange. I mean, they all died suddenly. Isn’t that when ghosts haunt you, when they die with unfinished business or something?”

“That’s the theory, yes…”

The conversation kind of dragged on and nothing much of any substance was said at the café as Adam and Oliver were both taking the measure of the other. Still, I knew that a helluva lot more was being said than as if I had been there. And Adam wasn’t telling them anything that he hadn’t told me already in the two times he’d spoken to me.

Yet, it wasn’t what he said that made my eyes well up. It was how he’d said it. I could hear the bleakness and frustration breaking his voice, his frustration of not being able to help total strangers who looked to him for answers he couldn’t always give them, in asking him to solve mysteries that threatened to remain mysteries.

Kind of like in my line of work. The only difference is I have the same requests made of me by the living. And I know what it feels like to be on the other side of the desk, to ask a homicide detective to give me some answers before I go crazy and to be told, “We’re doing our best, sir, but…”

But what was said to Adam wasn’t nearly as important or as interesting as what was said behind his back while he was in the bathroom. The kid had the foresight to hide a digital recorder in his hooded sweatshirt that he’d hung right next to Oliver Blood. It was a ballsy move and there was nothing but a thin layer of fabric to hide the recording device from view.

The kid isolated the dialogue and emailed it to me in an mp3 file. He assumed that I had an mp3 player like everyone else in the digital world. The fact is I’d barely graduated from eight tracks and still hoped vinyl would make a comeback. It was true that I could’ve played the kid’s mp3 file on both my computers at work and home but I wanted something portable that I could take with me. So I went to an electronics store and looked at the bewildering array of mp3 players they had zip tied to a peg wall. Some of the fuckers were no bigger than Wheat Thins and I wondered how many of these things were lost every year and had to be replaced. Maybe that was the whole idea.

Some kid in a blue polo shirt who still looked young enough to enjoy the Power Rangers tried to talk me into getting something called an iPhone and things called apps. But all I wanted was the biggest, most outdated one they had, something that I couldn’t accidentally swallow or get caught in my eye.

After clicking my mouse and cursing at my home computer for about an hour and a half I finally discovered how to upload the damned file onto my new toy. It was smaller than a pack of cigarettes, but still conspicuous enough so that I wouldn’t leave the house without it if I needed it with me. I hadn’t the heard the file, yet, and this was the first time I’d played it.

What I heard filled me with rage. Laura and her boss still weren’t speaking completely openly on account of the few other customers who were there and who’d subsequently arrived but they were speaking openly enough so that I knew where they were planning on taking this.

“OK, he’s gone. What do you think, sir?” Apparently, the “Fuck you” schtick really was a ruse.

“Well, he’s your brother. What do you think? Do you think he’s the One?” Pause. “The One what?” I wondered. Maybe Blood was thinking along the same lines as me.

“There’s a pretty high probability. I have to say in all seriousness, sir, I’ve never seen a level of contact as I do with my brother.”

“So do you think it would be a good idea to bring him in, to meet the Others?” Sigh from Laura.

“I think it may be a good idea, even if for no other reason than to let him know that he’s not the only one.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking, Elle. Obviously, what’s happened to him since the accident is freaking him right the fuck out. Introducing him to the other adepts may be the best thing anyone can do for him.”

“Your best guess, sir: Do you think Dietrich will try to acquire him?”

“Affirmative,” Blood said immediately. “He’d be crazy to not try to make a play for him. If I was him, I would.”

“Sir, you’re not planning on using him as bait, are you?” I pressed the buds even deeper into my ears. “I mean, he’s just a kid, sir.”

“Elle, some of the adepts were even younger than him when they came in and they adjusted.”

“Not all of them, sir.”

“OK. Most of them, then.”

“I just don’t want you using him as bait. Let’s not forget, he’s my flesh and blood. I already lost a brother years ago. I have no intention of losing the only other one I have.”

“I understand that, Elle. Don’t worry. No one’s gonna tie him to a stake in Jurassic Park and wait for the raptors to get him. That’s not what we do. You know that.”

“If he does try to acquire him, what do you think Dietrich has planned for him?”

“Hell if I know, Elle. Only thing I do know is, whatever the fuck happened in Boston last month will be nothing compared to what he’s still got planned.”

“Sh. Here he comes…”

The rest of the tape was a copy of what Adam had sent me. With one exception. The digital recorder in Adam’s pullover was left on and it picked up something that, for some reason, wasn’t caught by the wire’s microphone. It was a fourth voice and at first I thought it was one of the other customers or employees in the background. I played it over and over but couldn’t make out any words. It was like a raspy whisper. It sounded as if whoever said it was standing right next to the coat rack and I know for a fact no one was because I could see it.

So later that day I took it to one of the sound engineers at the CSI lab and had him isolate and loop it, as he termed it. As already noted, it wasn’t picked up on the other audio file on my unit and the engineer confirmed it when we played them simultaneously.

Reducing the background hiss and all other ambient noise it became crystal clear what this disembodied voice was saying:

“Don’t trust him.” I wondered who was warning him and if Adam had seen who it was.