The Last Handful of Clover - Book 2: Gifts Both Light and Dark

2.22 Ghost Town

June 12, 5:00 pm

Richard looked down the hillside, wondering what Billy meant about this being a good place to begin. Begin what? Immediately below them was the Huntsman Cancer Center, where his mother had been treated and where she had died. Below that were the even more massive buildings of the University Medical Center. Further down the gentle slope of the hillside, the buildings of the University itself could be seen through the afternoon haze. Billy was already walking down the rocky hillside.

"Where are we going? Back to the University?"

"No, not the University. The hospital. I think it's time you meet some of the other ghosts who inhabit the Hereafter."

Billy trudged down the slope, and Richard followed, grumbling to himself. Obviously, this had been Billy's goal all along. The boy had only been giving him the pieces of the puzzle that he thought Richard was ready to hear. But despite Richard's frustration, he was also intrigued. Other than the few ghosts he had seen at the funeral, and a few at the library, he really had very little context for the story that Billy had been telling him. Richard knew he had much to learn. He felt like he did when he was a novice student, back at NYU. This new world was permeated with mystery, and the desire to understand it all was a growing hunger, deep in his belly.

He realized he had something else to thank Billy for. This was the first time since his death that any emotion had become stronger than his grief.

Billy says there are thousands, he thought. I wish I had something to write on. Something tells me I should be taking notes.

Billy was true to his word, and what he showed Richard in the hospital was alternately shocking and tragic.

They began at the Cancer Center. And as the pair walked through the front doors, behind an old man in a wheelchair and what looked like his daughter, Richard let out a low whistle under his breath.

"So, this is where they've been hiding," he said with his eyes wide.

Richard estimated that for every ten people in the building, there was at least one ghost. He lingered back at the door, trying to stay out of the bustling traffic of both the living and the dead. Besides the grim sight of the ghosts in their various stages of dress and undress, this place also brought back a lot of painful memories. His mother had died here, more than thirty years ago.

Billy waded directly into the throngs, not looking to see if Richard was following. And as they walked slowly through the hallways, many of the dead turned to Billy and acknowledged him.

Sometimes it was just a glance. But often it was a hand that reached up to touch him. In every case, those hands just passed through him, but when it happened, Richard felt as if he was watching a holy man or a prince walking among the common people. There was a solemnity and a gentle reverence on their dead faces as they reached for Billy.

It did not surprise him to find that the dead here reflected the locale. Clearly, most or perhaps all of these souls had passed here in the Cancer Center. And they looked it. Nearly all were naked or in hospital gowns. Several were wrapped in their sheets, and a few had demanded they be dressed in their best clothes for their last hours. Most were elderly, although there were several children among them as well. Without exception, they all looked drawn, thin, weak, and very sad. Richard could see the same hollow cheekbones and paper-thin gray skin that his mother had developed in her last days. There were many women with either one or both breasts removed. The signs of cancer were less visible on the men, but he could only imagine how many of these old men had prostates that had grown large and eaten them away from the inside.

Richard hurried after Billy, although the weight of this place was already bearing down on his heart. Every old woman carried the face of his mother, and it reawakened in him the grief that he thought he had conquered long ago.