Page 54 of Haunted Ever After

“You sure?” He looked out into the empty café. “Looks kinda busy out here.” Nick half expected a tumbleweed to make its way through for emphasis.

Nick nodded. “I’m a pro. I got this.”

Ramon waved him off with a chuckle, shucking his apron as he left. Nick locked the door behind him then returned to Cassie behind the counter, pulling his phone out of his pocket. But when he pulled up his messages he was at a loss. He’d never initiated a text chain with Elmer before. The texts came in, and he replied. Every new conversation came in marked Unknown Number and started a new thread. How would this work? Should he just reply to the most recent one? Would Elmer receive it, or had he already spiritually moved on to the next burner phone?

Before he could decide what to do, his phone buzzed in his hand, nearly sending him out of his skin.

You looking for me?

Well. That answered that. Cassie gave a soft gasp next to him as he responded. Sure am. You good to talk?

What the hell else am I doing? I don’t exactly have a full schedule these days.

“Whoa,” Cassie breathed. She stared at the screen with wide eyes. “That’s…” She swallowed. “Words on the fridge are one thing, but this…” She shook her head in wonder. “That’s really a dead guy.”

Well, you don’t have to put it like that. The response appeared like magic on the screen. Nick snorted, and after a moment Cassie laughed too, the sound thin.

“Good point. I apologize,” she said into the phone, like they were on speaker. “Wait.” She looked up at Nick. “Do you need to type that, or can he hear me?”

“Either/or,” Nick replied as Elmer’s response came through. I can hear you. Nick insists on typing because it’s more civilized or something. Seems like more work to me.

“I like to text,” Nick said, very pointedly typing the same words as he spoke them. “It makes all this…” He circled his hand around his phone. “Seem more normal. That okay with everyone?”

“Yep.” Cassie popped the p while Elmer responded Sure on Nick’s phone. “So do you want me to…” She held out a hand for his phone. “I can type questions to him if you want. Or you can. Whatever works for you.”

“Ahh, it’s fine. We can skip the middleman. Just talk.” Normality was overrated at this point.

“You sure?” Cassie leaned away from him, pulling her own phone out of her back pocket. Nick was flummoxed. Did she think Elmer’s answers would show up on her own phone? But before he could tell her that it didn’t work like that, she pulled up her Notes app to a very full screen. Of course. She’d come prepared for this.

“Okay.” She consulted her list while Nick tilted his phone toward her. Which was pointless; Elmer wasn’t listening through the phone’s microphone, but again. Whatever kept this whole thing semi-normal. “You said you knew Mrs. Hawkins, right?”

Not much, myself, came the response. She was already a widow when I was a kid. My dad talked about old C.S. like he was a god or something around here. And he didn’t think much of Mean Mrs. H.

“Is there anything you remember about her? Was she really mean?”

One thing about Elmer’s texts: they popped up fast. Faster than anyone could conceivably type out words. That was plain with the lengthy responses that showed up now on Nick’s screen. Kids in the neighborhood started calling her Mean Mrs. Hawkins, and Pop thought it was funny. But she never seemed mean to me. I thought she looked sad.

“Sad?” Cassie glanced up at Nick, almost to confirm what they had both read. “Do you think she missed her husband?”

Nick shook his head. “That doesn’t make much sense. Everything now implies that she offed her husband. That’s a pretty big stretch from grieving widow.”

Beats me.

“Yeah.” Cassie sighed. “We’ve got to be missing something.”

Sorry I can’t be more help. I was just a kid in those days.

“No, no, I get that,” Cassie hastened to assure him, but Nick narrowed his eyes.

“You said you knew Mrs. Hawkins,” he said. “ ‘Ask me anything,’ that’s what you said. Why are you bullshitting us now?”

Oh come on, kid. You knew I was bullshitting you. What, you can’t do math? She was in her forties when I was born.

Nick tossed his phone to the counter. What a waste of time. He wanted to be mad at Elmer, but could he blame him? Dude was lonely, and for the first time in decades someone had come to him for help, instead of just ignoring his good-intentioned suggestions.

Cassie picked up Nick’s phone, studying the words Elmer left. “It’s okay.” Her voice was soothing. Probably just the kind of thing Elmer wanted to hear. “But you’re the only one we know who was around in those days. Any little detail you can remember might be important.”

At first there was a pause, and Nick wondered if Elmer was gone. Once again, Nick had always been the one to end the conversation with him; as far as he knew, Elmer would talk forever, given the chance.

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