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Part IV: Ghosts of the Past
"I..." Anne paused, "I'm sorry, I honestly don't know if this was the right..."
"Bull to the shit!" Tony stepped forward, "You can help me clear out the dark fucking cloud that's been hanging over me all my life," he reached into his bag, producing the VHS tape, "I think it has to do with something that happened at the lake back in the '80s. Somebody who died...or maybe didn't."
"A death but not a death?" Dr. Galdamez cocked his eyebrow, fascinated. "Perhaps, you might say, a resurrection?" He took the tape, analyzing it. "You seem to have stumbled upon a mystery well before your time, boy. Funny how the mistakes of our ancestors fall to our children, always. So history goes." Stroking the corners of the VHS, the doctor asked, "The lake, hm? What a history behind that place. For centuries...yet you want to go back to the 80's." In a brief reverie, Dr. Galdamez looked up to his beautiful crown molding and signed. "Don't we all?"
Smacking his lips, he returned to the matter at hand. "I've long since traded in my VCR. Yet, feeling this tape, I sense...loss. Mournin'. Regret. What, pray tell, happens in this here video?"
"It's just some guy talking..." began Tony.
"You're a medium," said Anne, "Aren't you? Can't you just...tell, by touching it? Feel the vibrations?"
"I sense you doubt my abilities," Dr. Galdamez stared the sister down. "Well, I ask, DOUBT THIS!" He smashed the VHS on the desk, releasing the tape like guts from a baby lamb! Then, in a fluid motion, the doctor ran the tape through his fingers at such a rapid pace, his eyelids fluttering, his brain flooding with this new information...
He heaved when he reached the end, panting. "My, my..." Dr. Galdamez smiled at his new patients. "The man in this tape...Jason...I know where to find him."
Anne suppressed a gasp behind her hands at the destruction of the tape they had toiled so many hours to discover, "Oh my..."
"You'd better not be bullshitting," said Tony, "My Gran legit might haunt me," he paused, realizing, "You...you knew his name?"
"That's not hard," said Anne, "It was written right on the..."
"No it wasn't," Tony reminded her, "I stared at the thing for an hour straight, non-stop. It was just his initials," with renewed vigor, he turned back to Galdamez, "Where is he?"
"Where do we go when we are of middle age?" Dr. Galdamez rose to his feet and sauntered around his office, the muffled sound of jazz serenading him from the other side of the doors. "To our younger, more capable days. The best years of our lives. That there tape just happens to mark the end of Jason's best years. And his best years were spent at the reputable, the distinguished, the highly respected..." He stopped, stroking his bust of author Lord Byron. "...St. George's Preparatory School."
"They did all go to St. George's," Anne seemed sufficiently cowed by these revelations to remember keeping things quiet from the 'seer', "But..."
"Wait, wait," said Tony, "The happiest time of this guy's life...was high school?"
"Sad, I know," Dr. Galdamez pouted, putting his pinky finger to his lips. "How we squander our lives, hiding in fear of what may or may not happen, steeped in regret as young Jason was. His life truly did peak in the years before the events of this tape transpired." He nodded, adding, "They do say the best four years of your life are in high school. I wouldn't know. I never went."
"How do you have a PhD if you never finished high school?" asked Anne, incredulous.
"Not your high school," Dr. Galdamez smiled. "But the highest school, at the crossroads of eternity. You wouldn't know about that, though." He opened the door leading into the main hall. "Come!"
Alphonse peeked his head in. "Gladly!"
"Not you, Alphonse!" The doctor gave him a gentle whack on the head, to which Alphonse giggled and complied. "Naughty, naughty boy." He returned his gaze to his patients. "We shall take my limousine to those hallowed halls. Unless, of course, you have second thoughts."
"Second?" demanded Anne.
"But, wait," said Tony, "Don't you want us to pay you or something? I mean...how does this work?"
"Oh, I'll be paid in further knowledge of the mysteries that haunt this here town," Dr. Galdamez stepped out the room only to step back in to add, "I also require a fee of $600. Hurry now!"
And so he left the room for his grand driveway.
"$600?!" mouthed Jamie at the words.
"What?" Tony noted Anne's slack-jaw, "Isn't the Church rich? Come on, he's our only lead..."
"That's what scares me."
They followed him past the revels and dancing (somebody had brought out a vat of bubbling purple green liquid that was either creme de menthe or absinthe) to the forecourt, where a glorious limousine awaited them.
"Where are we going to get that kind of money? I only carry a hundred."
"Fabien!" Dr. Galdamez whistled to his chauffeur. "Start the engines. We're taking a trip to St. George's Prep!"
"But what of the festivities, doctor?" inquired Fabien, concerned.
"Ernesto seems to have a handle of things," the doctor pointed to the shirtless old man killing it on the piano. "These people need my help!" And so he marched out the side door to where his purple limousine was parked. The seats were upholstered in shades of gold and tinsel hang from the car's ceiling. Naturally, there was wine waiting to be served inside.
He took a seat inside and poured himself a glass, but not before cooling himself with his custom-designed fan (bearing the colors and initials of his house, of course). Oh, this November heat was sweltering!
"Oh, this heat!" Dr. Galdamez needlessly commented, awaiting his patients to join him.
"So...uh...who are these people?" asked Tony, "I mean, do they live here?"
"They're souls, wandering along the by-ways of life, seeking purpose," Dr. Galdamez explained, crossing his legs. "I try to help as many as possible using my expertise and when they're ready, they go off on their merry way, spreading the truth and sharing their revelation. And then of course, there are the loyal disciples who stay and help me keep house. It does get awfully lonely there, even with the spirits to keep me company. So I keep my doors open, 'specially for the needy..." He placed a hand on the boy's knee. "...such as yourself."
"Okay, that's close enough!" Anne leaned in.
"Oh, stay calm, Sis," said Tony, "Need I remind you who you work for?"
Anne opened her mouth to say something to that, but just as quickly closed it.
"I will say," said Anne, "That I...I suppose I must be thankful you're so...willing to lend a hand in this. Even if I'm not quite sure what a 'hand' or, even 'this' is. Any help would be..." she paused, "Appreciated."
Still fanning himself, Dr. Galdamez sipped his fine wine. "Sometimes, you have to put your faith into the unknown, as you are doing so with me. You and your holy ilk should know all about that."
"Did..." Anne began, "Did you just compare yourself to God?"
"Oh no, he didn't," Jamie said quietly to Tony.
"I am but a close friend, if my encounters with the beyond haven't lied to me," Dr. Galdamez clarified, Fabien starting the drive. "I've had my experiences with the divine, Sister, both enlightening and terrifying, as we all do. I just tend to go a bit...deeper than others." He sipped his wine. "Maybe even deeper than your sisterhood has ever endeavored. What do you do in that musty convent?"
"Oh, you don't want to know..." began Tony. Anne thunked him on the side of the head.
"Ow!"
"You speak to God?" asked Anne.
"Isn't that what you do?" prompted Tony.
"When He returns my calls."
"I confer with him, yes," Dr. Galdamez replied, delicately putting down his glass in the cushioned cup-holder. "But only when the proper preparations have been made and the time is right. And even so, the times I do have the slightest communication with him are rare." Pressing both hands on his cane, he smiled, the light glinting off his gold incisors. "I could try to schedule an appointment if you are so in need..."
"That won't be necessary!" cut in Anne.
"Wait, so is it true that if you talk to God, you run the risk of, like, summoning the Devil, or like a ghost, or something?"
"I thought that was just Hollywood," replied Jamie.
"No need to summon the Devil if he is ever-present, child." Dr. Galdamez proceeded to take in a deep, terrifying-sounding breath. Finally, he released. "We are here!"
"Wait," said Anne, "Did the car ever even leave?"
"Oh, it did," Dr. Galdamez answered. "Fabian, though...has a talent for driving. One among many." He reeled back his head in euphoria. "So many talents." His head fixed like that for the moment, he stepped out of the limo.