The Crescent

Chapter 25

Evening had crept in by the time she left her grandparents wet with kisses, and Zacari wanted nothing more than to nap. But with Baker and the newest ghost claiming Baker was evil liable to be lurking, even if she had to look through the camera to see them, sleep was nearly impossible. She tried to shake the images of Gloria dying out of her head. Just thinking about it broke her into a cold sweat, the sensations too real to recall right now. She was afraid to believe him. Her father sprawled out on top of his bed covers and in an instant he was snoring. Zacari wondered how he did that. She had to be covered up to get to sleep, and even then, it wasn't guaranteed. Sleep wasn't on the table, so she texted Javier, the next best thing.

                                                                                                                                                                                             Hey!

Hello! How were your grandparents?

                                                                                        Weird. Are you working right now or can we hang out?

I'm off. Meet me on the back porch?

                                                                                                                                                                                            Omw

She checked her hair in the bathroom, got irritated that she felt the need to check it, grabbed Lela, and her backpack. She considered the camera on her bedside, and reluctantly threw it in her backpack before heading out the door.

Allison was at the front desk filing her nails. Zacari felt a little guilty she'd witnessed Zacari's mental breakdown in a bathing suit. But Allison smiled at her. A plate of chocolate chip cookies sat saran-wrapped at Allison's elbow, and she dropped her nail file and pulled out two cookies.

"One for you and your boyfriend," she said with a wink.

"He's not my – "

"Oh, I know, sheesh. Let me have a little drama."

Zacari grinned. "Thanks."

Javier was waiting for her with a wide grin plastered on his round face and glasses a bit lopsided. She was so relieved to see him that she didn't even slow her step. They strolled through the hospital's backgrounds and nibbled their cookies, all the while watching Lela piss in the topiary garden in intervals. It was lovely, except for Baker dancing on the tip of her tongue, threatening to spill out in gut-wrenching heaves.

"So, uh, you said your mom saw a ghost, right?"

"Yeah."

"It was that little girl, right?"

"Right."

"What do you think of it all?" she said cautiously.

"What do you mean? Like do I believe in it?"

Zacari shrugged. There was no way she could confess anything without looking like a complete nutjob. She felt Javier's gaze, and when she turned to meet it, he didn't look away this time.

"You know," he said. "I haven't seen a ghost. But I believe my mom. And not because she's my mom. I'd believe you if you said you saw a ghost."

A weight, imperceptible until it'd gone, fluttered from her shoulders like a monarch. She didn't have the right words for this, so she slipped her hand into his and surprised them both. A beat of stilled breath and Javier squeezed her hand and they watched Lela take a dump in silence. Maybe she could tell him just a little.

"Did you find anything about Baker admitting people of color?"

"Yes, actually," he said. "You were right – he did admit people of different races into the hospital. Not exactly great for them, of course, and I doubt any of the nurses weren't white, but you were right. How'd you find that out?"

"My grandpa said – I don't know for sure – but apparently his mom got pregnant by Baker when she worked for him when the place was a hospital. And he, uh, mentioned something about that," she sort of fibbed.

"Wait." Javier stopped in his tracks. "Are you telling me Norman Baker is your great grandpa?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess so."

"You – you're – wow." He pulled his hand from hers and placed them on the back of his head. His eyes narrowed behind his glasses, and his mouth dropped open.

"Why're you staring at me like that? It's not that big of a deal," Zacari laughed nervously.

"You saw him."

She stepped back. Her heart moved up to the base of her throat and threatened to crack her collarbones in half. Was she that transparent? "What – I?"

"You saw him. Oh my god. On the ghost tour, in the morgue. That's why you ran out. You saw him, didn't you?"

"No, I – well, not then," she blurted.

"So you've seen him then," he said pointedly. She nodded. "Oh my god. And the camera? The one you got from your grandparents? It's his, isn't it?

"I don't know," Zacari said, relieved to be completely honest.

"What do you mean, you don't know? Did he tell you it was his?"

"Yes but – there's another...ghost, spirit or whatever, that says it's actually his. I don't know who to believe."

Javier stared at her. Zacari had a sick feeling that he thought she was insane. And as her stomach morphed into a writhing bowl of maggots, it occurred to her that maybe she was insane. But he grabbed her hand and asked, "Who's the other one?" and her stomach returned to its normal, non-maggoty state.

"Will...Drachman. I think. He says the camera is his. He also says Baker murdered him."

"One of them has to be lying." He pulled off his glasses and cleaned them with the tail of his shirt. "Zacari, you need to be careful. Baker wasn't a good person. He was a shyster who did whatever he wanted to whoever he wanted. I don't think murder is farfetched to consider of Baker."

"But what if he's misunderstood? What if he was trying to genuinely help people? I mean, I don't even know who this Will guy is."

"Even so, Baker doesn't exactly have a clean rep. He caused a lot of suffering. He had to see that, not one person lived from his treatments." He looked over at her. "Did this Will guy have any good reason why it was his camera?"

Zacari shrugged again and kept Gloria's death to herself. "Kind of. Yes. I don't know. I just want to talk to Baker again about it. I think I will tonight," she decided. The morgue would invite her in at midnight, no doubt.

"Whatever you do," Javier said, grabbing Zacari's other hand, marrying them in a ring-around-the-rosies fashion. "If you need me, text me. I'll help however I can."

Zacari blushed. Cheesy, but sweet. "Okay. I will."

"Will Drachman," he said more to himself. "I'll find out what I can."