3 Ghosts of Our Fathers by Michael Richan Page B

art.”
    “Glad to hear it,” Steven said. “This
is Daniel. He’s been helping me while you’ve been gone.”
    Roy and Daniel shook hands.
“Helping him, are you?” Roy asked. “Sounds like something’s up. Well, follow me
into the kitchen and you can tell me about it. I have a few things to unpack.”
    They both followed Roy. Steven
took a seat at the kitchen table and motioned for Daniel to sit as well. Roy
began unpacking several plastic bags. He pulled out a beautiful large shell and
handed it to Steven.
    “Look at this!” Roy said. “An
animal lived in that thing. Dixon hit the shell like this,” he grabbed the
shell back to demonstrate, “and the thing crawled out. Dixon stabbed it and we
barbequed it for dinner. Delicious.” He handed the shell back. “Beautiful,
right?”
    “It’s a conch,” Steven said,
turning the shell in his hand.
    “I don’t remember what the hell
Dixon called it,” Roy said. “And look at this!” He pulled two large bottles of
dark liquid out of the bags. “Local rum! Want a taste?”
    “Later, Dad,” Steven said.
“Listen, I want to hear all about the trip but we need to talk to you.”
    “What’s up?” Roy asked, still
pulling items out of bags and placing them on the counter.
    “Your father, David, pissed off a
man eighty years ago by imprisoning him in a soul cage. Now he’s getting out
and coming after me. After us.”
    Roy stopped emptying the bags and
stood still, staring at the kitchen cabinets. He didn’t turn to look at Steven.
    “Frank Wilmon,” Roy said, his
enthusiasm gone. “Am I right?”
    “How’d you know?” Steven said.
    Roy returned to unpacking the
bags. “My father wrote about him in his book. One of the first things I was
ever able to read in that book, because he told me all about him. Frank was one
of the first times my father used his gift. He was afraid of Frank and wanted
me to know about him.”
    “And you never thought to tell
me?” Steven said.
    “It didn’t seem relevant,” Roy
said. “Just a story my dad told me.”
    “Well, that story had his hand
around my neck the other night,” Steven said. “He threatened to kill me. With
you gone I needed some help, and Eliza referred me to Daniel here. He and I
tracked down one of Frank’s kids, an old man named Garth. He lives in Olympia.
We just came from there. He told us the whole story.”
    “Why don’t you take a deep breath,”
Roy said, continuing to unpack, “and start from the top. Tell me everything
that’s gone on.”
    Steven and Daniel relayed the
entire story, starting with Steven’s first visit from Frank through all the
details of Garth’s experiences.
    “You’d think Frank would start
with you instead of me,” Steven said, “being David’s son.”
    “I was out on the water,” Roy
said. “That’s why he couldn’t reach me. What about Jason?”
    “I have a call out to him, waiting
to hear back.”
    “So you’re an expert on time,
Daniel?” Roy asked.
    “Well, I do know something about
it. I’ve studied it over the years,” Daniel said.
    “What do you think?” Roy asked
him.
    “Well,” Daniel said, “I think it’s
very dangerous. The cage is definitely collapsing. I figure there’s 48 hours
left before he’s completely free. And he’s picked up some skills while he’s
been in there. Steven’s skin was undulating and twisting where Frank had
grabbed him. His touch left some residual power that was very disturbing. It
might have been very small-scale time shifting on a molecular level.”
    “Time shifting?” Roy asked.
    “The cells of the skin each moving
backward and forward in time, by just a split second. It would make it appear
that it was moving when viewed in normal linear time.”
    “Sounds bizarre,” Roy said.
    “It’s dangerous. It’s hard enough
for a human to handle a shift in time if your whole body is involved. What he
did caused a piece of Steven to be out of sync with the rest of him. If he
could cause