Page 3 of Ghost

“W e need to take out all the light fixtures, outlets and light switches,” Mitch said as he fastened his tool belt to his slim hips.

“Might be a good idea to start from the top and work our way down. That way we can pull all the old wiring out without having to dig into that old fuse box right off.”

“Sounds like a good plan.” Mason already had his tool belt on and a six-foot ladder in hand. “I’ll go up and have a look in the attic space first.”

“Good idea before it gets too hot up there.” Mitch followed Mason up the stairs, tripping slightly on the busted step. “Need to get that taken care of before one of us kills ourselves.”

Mason looked over his shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll try and get to that later this afternoon. I can pull it up and re-glue it so it has time to dry overnight.”

Mitch only nodded in agreement.

Mason pushed up the attic access panel. “There’s not much space up here at all and I only see a few wires. That old knob-and-tube stuff. No fixtures though, just some old gas tubing.”

“That’s good news.” Mitch popped his head around the doorway to one of the bedrooms.

“I’ll do these two fixtures in the hall first.” Mason moved his ladder and took care of them, with no problems.

“Damn, this shit is old, old, old,” Mitch said from the same bedroom. “I’ll need the ladder for this overhead when you’re done there.”

“All done with the hall except for the one over the stairs.” Mason picked up the old fixtures to take down to the trash. They weren’t even worth trying to salvage. “Here’s the ladder. I’ll need the extension ladder to get this one in the stairwell. I’ll be back in a few.”

Mason returned from getting the other ladder from the downstairs hallway.

He started to set it up on one of the steps so he could get to the highest point to remove the outdated light fixture that only had a bare bulb in it.

“It would have been a total bitch to have to change this light bulb,” he commented pushing the ladder as high as it would go.

He climbed up as high as he could but was still just a bit short of being able to reach the old light.

Mason descended the ladder and moved it up one more step, his focus on the ceiling.

Once again, he ascended the ladder, reaching the antiquated light.

He reached into his tool belt for a screwdriver when he heard a crack.

Looking down he realized that he’d placed the ladder on the broken step, but it was too late. The ladder tipped and down he went.

“Mason. Mason!”

Who was shouting at him? He tried to open his eyes, but it felt as if someone had just beaten him with a baseball bat. It had to be. What else could explain the brutal pounding in his head?

“Come on, buddy. Mason!”

He was glad when the shouting stopped. It didn’t cause his head to hurt any more than it already did, which was plenty.

* * * * *

“F uck.” Mason mumbled . Must have left the curtains open again. The sun was really bright today. Why is it so cold?

“Mr. Montgomery, can you hear me? Mason?”

Mason risked having one of his eyes burned out by the bright light, lifting one eyelid. The room started spinning and he could feel the nausea roll over him like a rogue tidal wave. “Oh fuck.”

“Mr. Montgomery, I need for you to try and open your eyes.”

“Bright,” was the only word that Mason could bring himself to choke out. His mouth felt as if he done a shot of Elmer’s glue.

“Turn the overheads off, please.” A cool hand gently turned his head, more centered to his body. “Mr. Montgomery, you can open your eyes now?”

Mason risked opening one eye again, ready to shut it quickly. Seeing that it was no longer so bright, he tried opening both eyes but then the pounding in his head began again, so he shut them quickly. “Who hit me?” he growled.

“Mr. Montgomery, my name is Dr. Clarke. You fell off a ladder and hit your head. You have a pretty nasty cut and a concussion. Your shoulder was dislocated but we’ve dealt with that, but it will be sore for a week or so.”

It all came rushing back. The ladder. That stupid broken step. Mitch. “Where’s Mitch?”

“I’m right here, buddy.”

Mason felt a rough and calloused hand enclose his. He knew it had to be Mitch.

“Mr. Montgomery, I need you to open your eyes for me please and leave them open.”

Again, Mason opened first one eye and then waited before opening the other. The pounding was still there but not quite as bad as before. “Hurts.”

“Yes, I’m sure it does.”

Suddenly there was a finger holding his right eye open and a bright light was flashed across his eye.

“Son-of-a-bitch!” Mason tried to swat the offending light away.

“Please, Mr. Montgomery, hold still for me.”

Then the light went away, and the finger moved to his other eye to repeat the process.

“You know that fucking hurts, right?” Mason tried to move his head away but realized too late that had been a bad idea. The room started spinning again. “I’m going to be sick.”

His upper body convulsed, and he could taste the bile burning his throat, but nothing else came up. “Water.”

A straw was suddenly between his lips offering cool water. “Just a sip or two at a time,” came a soft voice. The voice of a woman.

“I’d like to keep him overnight so we can observe him—”

“No, I’m not staying in some hospital. I don’t have insurance and I can’t afford it.” Mason opened his eyes fully, the pounding in his head coming back full force, but he forced his eyes to remain open. A few seconds later the jackhammer lessened, and the room stopped spinning.

“Mr. Montgomery, you sustained quite a significant head injury and I feel it is very unwise—”

“I’m not staying and that’s my final word.” Mason tentatively sat up. He saw Mitch standing to one side smirking. “Shut up wise-ass and take me home.”

Once they were both in the truck, Mitch burst out laughing. “I knew the minute they said they wanted to keep you that you’d get up and walk out.”

Mason turned his head slowly. He’d figured out that quick movements made the world tilt and his stomach heave. “Yeah, and you’d have done the exact same thing.”

“Yup,” Mitch said. “I’m gonna swing by that grocery store I saw on the way into town and pick up a few things.” He glanced over to Mason. “I’m thinking tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich for dinner. That okay?”

Mason smiled. “Perfect.” Then he frowned. “I doubt I’d be able to hold down anything else. Not even sure about the sandwich at the moment.

“The doc said you’d experience dizziness and nausea for a few days.” Mitch stopped at a red light and looked over at Mason again. “You do still look a little green around the gills, but nothing like you were.”

Mason took a deep breath and let it out. “Just some fresh air helps. I don’t know what they do in hospitals that make them stink so badly. Just smells like sick, disinfectant and... well, shit, to be quite honest.”

Mitch laughed. “That it does, buddy, that it does.”

When they arrived at the apartment, Mitch helped Mason to the small sofa and then went back to get the few items that he’d picked up at the store. He got Mason a cold Coke and started to heat up the can of soup on the tiny, apartment-sized stove.

“I think that the Braves are playing tonight,” Mason said as he picked up the remote control for the small TV.

“Who they playin’?” Mitch looked over his shoulder. “Want me to hold up on the grilled cheese?”

“I think the Pirates, and yeah, no grilled cheese for me.” Mason scrolled through the channels looking for the baseball game. “Go ahead and have a sandwich, I don’t mind.”

Mitch chuckled. “I was going to anyway. Oh, I also got some of those little mustard pretzels you like. Thought they’d go good with the soup and just something to munch on.”

“Perfect.” Mason moaned and closed his eyes.

“You okay there?”

“Yeah. The room decided to go on a little dosey-doe on me for a second there.”

Mitch handed him a bowl half full of soup. “There’s more but why don’t we see how you deal with this first.

Mason nodded and took a small sip of his canned Coke. The carbonated drink felt good going down and seemed to settle his stomach a bit.

Mitch settled down with a bowl of soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. He set a fresh beer on the small table they were using as a coffee table and put the bag of pretzels between them. He turned towards Mason. “This is kinda perfect.”

“Yeah, it is.” Mason took a slurp of his soup. “This is good, thanks. And thanks for looking out for my ass.”

“Hey man, I told you, I don’t swing that way.” Mitch snickered, almost choking on his soup.

“Fuck you,” Mason said, trying his best not to smile.

“Nope, won’t be doin’ none of that neither.”

“Shut up and watch the game?” Mason chomped down on a pretzel. “These are good too.”

“Yup, now shut up, they’re about to do the national anthem.” Mitch smirked. “I don’t think you should stand up for it though. You’d prob’ly fall on your face and then I’d have to take you back to that hospital.”

Mason chuffed. “Not happening.”

“Although... that nurse was pretty hot. Not much in the way of tits, though.”

“I didn’t notice,” Mason said flatly. “Not really into... teets.”

Mitch roared. “She wasn’t a cow, you dipshit.”

“Yeah, still not my thing.”

“Shut up. First pitch.”

“Now that’s what I call a fine ass,” Mason commented, lifting his soda towards the pitcher on the mound, the batter stepping into the batter’s box.

“Can we not have commentary on the asses of the players?” Mitch complained.

“Okay, I’ll make you a deal.” Mason turned his head slightly to look at his friend. “You don’t talk about chicks, and I won’t talk about dicks.”

“Deal,” Mitch said, holding his hand out to shake on it.

Mason shook Mitch’s hand. “I didn’t say anything about the rest of their bodies though!”

“Oh fuck,” Mitch groaned. “Shut up and eat your soup.”