3. Big Spanking #3
“Kraa!” the bird responds, twice as loudly, its reddish-black eyes weirdly intent on Archer, whose lips press tight.
“Is that your bird?” I can’t help but ask.
“No, that’s not my bird!” he throws back, sounding like I’ve offended him.
“Kraa!” the bird insists.
“How about these ghosts?” asks Raul, eyeing the bird.
“Kraa!” says the raven.
“Quiet!” Archer snaps at it. “And you, quiet!” He points a finger at Raul. “Quiet!” he says, sending that same finger towards me. “Just… just let me think.”
He turns and paces back towards his door, then back towards us, and back and forth again, hands on his hips. His lips move as if he’s talking to himself, but there’s no sound.
Okay, so maybe he is mad.
And, well, I guess this is why I’m here. A person can be rich, well-dressed, own the sort of place I’m hardly good enough to clean the floors of, and still need help.
“Mr Gravely?”
He stops. His left eyebrow rises at me.
He’s so intimidating, not just on account of his money and looks. There’s a real presence about him.
But I’ve been given a job, and I’m going to do it.
“We’re here to help, and we’re not going to do anything you don’t want us to do.”
The raven makes an odd gurgling noise, then flaps its way down onto a low pine branch, sidestepping its way closer to me. But this time Archer pays it no attention, just waits for me.
“Is there something you want to tell us before we go inside?” I ask.
He glances back over his shoulder, through the doorway, as if the very thing he’s worried about might be right there, listening to our conversation.
Maybe he believes it is. And I guess that must be quite scary for him.
Yet he doesn’t sound especially scared when he eventually says, “I just need you to be prepared. The advertisement says you’re London’s best ghostbus—”
“Spirit Extraction Specialists,” Raul corrects again, for some reason.
“Sure. That,” says Archer. “So I don’t doubt your experience.
” He smiles then, just a little, and with a touch of embarrassment that makes him look soft.
In a nice way. “Most people wouldn’t have even believed me, so I am thankful you’re taking the matter so seriously.
” He finishes that sentence with a nod towards Raul’s gun, then adds, “It’s just this is something… different.”
Raul opens his irritating mouth, so I’m louder and faster with, “What exactly is the problem?”
It feels like such a stupid question, once again, knowing I’m here for a ghost call, but he doesn’t make me feel stupid at all.
His head lowers, like he’s considering it in all seriousness.
“Ghosts are…” And there he stops. Pauses.
“Ghosts on television are just people, right? For the most part. And some of them are nice, and some of them are assholes, and some of them are sad, and some of them just want to move on.”
Sounds like every ghost story I’ve ever seen, so I nod, as if I’m agreeing, which I guess I sort of am.
He keeps going, saying, “This thing is…” His voice lowers with another quick look over his shoulder. “This thing is different. It’s… I could say ‘evil,’ but I don’t want to make it seem that simple.”
“Ghosts are often evil,” Raul informs us. “You’d be above a Level Two entity if that really were the case, but it’s nothing the Plasma Pulser can’t fix.”
Archer ignores the gun he’s waving, directing his words at me. “It’s not the regular kind of evil.”
A distinct chill runs down my spine. “How do you mean?’”
“Dealt with a lot of evil ghosts, have you?” Raul’s smugness is back in full, and I wish Archer would scare him shitless again.
“You might be surprised,” Archer replies, and he says it so flatly, he’s got my full attention.
Well, until that weird raven says, “Kraa!” and tilts its head down as if it’s nodding along.
Archer’s eyes flick over to it, then back to me.
“What I mean is, sure, in the way some people are evil, maybe there are evil ghosts. But I can deal with people. In whatever manner they come, I can handle them. This isn’t…
I don’t think this is a person, dead or alive.
I can’t explain it, it’s…” He blinks, long and slow, then, “Listen, how about I take you inside and explain what’s been going on? ”
Even if I don’t believe in ghosts, I still don’t want to go into his house. My feet feel heavy, like a lead weight’s locked around them, holding me in place.
It only gets worse when he adds, “We’ll stay in the front room, keep close to the door for an easy escape, and for god’s sake, please put that gun away. You’re not to take it out in my home under any circumstances, do you understand?”
“Not really,” Raul replies, but he lowers the thing all the same and slides it into his pocket.
“You’re about to,” Archer informs us. “Once you find out what you’re dealing with, you might decide that gun is next to useless anyway.”
A pregnant silence falls over our little group—even the weird raven, who cocks his head as if watching for our reaction.
But a second later, Archer obliterates it with a jovial clap of hands and a wide smile. “Tea, then?”