Ch 20: Achievement Unlocked

Richard Fish's granddaughter was a fashionable fourth grader with her mother's ebony black hair and perfectly ironed school uniform. The security was strong. After being allowed through the gate, she was escorted by a different faculty member. I imagine that had I not been a ghost, stalking any of the students would've proved difficult.

Without waiting for Charli, I rushed to follow her. Tanya was led to her classroom where she was signed in once again. She went to class with the same teacher for the majority of the day. Although art class and music class required separate teachers to sign out individual students. I followed her throughout the day, living a life that I could only dream of.

She had a uniquely creative spirit; a sense of joy and happiness that made me want to know more. I sat back and watched as she practiced with her cello. I sat marveled at the skill it took for such a small girl to master such a massive string instrument.

Charli slugged me in the arm. "Wow. I'm so glad my parents never forced me to play something like that."

"Did you play an instrument in school?" I asked. "The closest I ever came to a music class was drums and cheap bells.

"And tambourines?"

"Maybe old donated ones."

"Are you jealous?"

"Of course," I said with a laugh. I reclined in Charli's arms. "Who wouldn't want to go to a school like this?"

At lunch, Tanya sat with her friends. Everyone had to stay in the classroom, but they were allowed to sit in whatever formation they wanted.

The teacher brought out the lunch boxes from the in-room refrigerator, handing them out like a waitress. Tanya's lunch consisted of a shimmery metallic lunch box lined with paper dividers.

She was eating sushi with plastic chopsticks that bore the logo of cute characters. (I would have guessed Pokemon, but it seemed to be something more traditionally Japanese.) I sat on my knees taking a seat beside her.

"You painted that yourself, didn't you," I said out loud. I glided my fingertips against the painted flowers. Did she do this with nail polish? Or maybe resin?

Tanya froze. She looked around for a moment. Her eyes flickered as if her mind was forming a thought; an idea too insane to speak out loud, while also being completely true. she eventually shrugged, attempting to convince herself this was all in her imagination. She didn't lock eyes with me or Charli. Still, knowing there was the possibility she could hear me I made a mental note to keep quiet for the rest of the day.

Lunch was followed by math, science, and computer programming. Each child had their own assigned laptop. (These were handed out by the teacher and collected at the end of the lesson.)

After-school Tanya was signed out by her elderly nanny. I followed them to the parking lot, curious to see if this woman was allowed to drive the lego-toy sports car.

Tanya was walked outside to a bench that sat under a series of security cameras. Waiting in the cold, with her earbuds in, she appeared to be listening to music on a small iPod that looked older than her. (Seriously, I thought all rich kids had phones.)

In less than a minute, she was picked up by her Nanny. The elderly woman held open the door to what I assumed was Adam Ryder's posh Jeep Cherokee. She arranged Tanya's bags as she took a seat and when they were settled she tapped on the driver's side window to signal the chauffeur.

"Of course," Charli scoffed. "Only men are allowed to drive, right?" She gripped the back of the vehicle, using her spirit energy to create a firm hold. As Charli rode on the bumper, I was curious to see what was inside the car.

She arrived in a minivan. It was nice, spacious, and even had a fully functional internet connection. The nanny used this to send a text via the car's messaging system. 'Tanya is safe. We're heading home.' She then hit a second button activating a screen in the back.

I assumed it was one of those flip-down televisions, meant to show DVDs, but unlike the one in Yellowstone, this had a touch screen, as well as a keyboard option.

Tanya spent the ride watching youtube videos, some about music others about science experiments (that would require hours of prep and even more hours of clean up.)

The Fish-Ryder family lived in a quiet cabin a few miles away, in a rather unique, beautiful gated community. When they reached their posh townhouse, I followed Tanya up the stairs to her room.

She logged on to her PC, a program that appeared to monitor her homework assignments. First was math, science, and spelling. She rolled her eyes at the English assignment. She picked up a nearby book. It was 'Little Women,' a book that even I had been forced to read in elementary school.

I always assumed it was the go-to book for young kids since it was so squeaky clean. It portrayed a time and place when everyone was down in the dumps; no need for racism or hate when the whole country is miserable. (Yes, I know, that's giving humanity too much credit.)

Next came music lessons. she pulled out a simplistic cello (the kind that lacked the majority of the wooden body.) She kept her pride and joy, in a travel case. It broke down into four pieces, easily assembled and connected to the PC via a series of cables. The music homework consisted mostly of her playing around with melodies. She could play along with various pop songs in various languages. It was actually kind of impressive.

I soon lost sight of Charli. I assumed she was looking around, checking the place for any kind of evidence that this was in fact a place Randell Fish might return to. I left Tanys's room, walking through the door to the sight of a family home. There was a kitchen, a living room, even a fireplace. And pictures, so many pictures. The walls were covered in memories; school photos, vacations, even professional portraits of a happy family. Was this even the home of Randell Fish? Perhaps I had gotten it all wrong. Fish was a common name (or word, at least.)

And then I spotted a single photo. It was him, taking his grandkids ice fishing. "Fucking bastard." He had no right to look so happy, peaceful. He had no right to joy with all the wickedness in his heart.

"Are you talking about my grandpa?"

Before I could reply (or even deduce where she had been standing) Tanya grabbed the photo and ran upstairs. Somehow, I guess, she knew I would follow. Instead of heading to her bedroom, she ducked behind a door labeled, 'Art studio.'

Charli rushed to my side. "I have a strange feeling about this."

"A strange feeling?" I assumed she meant something a little more serious. "We're already dead, what's the worst that could happen?" I confidently phased through the door, only to be greeted by a very different room. "What the?"

Tanya's second-floor room was a museum of occult pop culture from the latest dolls, to movie posters and memorabilia, and even a camera set up. She was clearly a fan of horror. "Do you have a YouTube channel?" I asked the little girl sitting at her laptop, adjusting her camera. My question went unanswered as she continued to focus on her setup. "Um, hello?"

Charli gripped my hand, her eyes glaring bullets through me.

"What?"

"What if she locks us inside of a mirror?"

"Was that really the best you could come up with?"

"Clearly she knows," she wrinkled her nose, scrunching her lips. "Something."

"She's a child, not a Ghostbuster."

"I'll be the one to ask the questions. If you don't mind," Tanya replied sounding much older than her years. "I'm just going to assume you won't show up on film, so if you please will you do something for the camera to prove your existence?"

"For your viewers?" I glared at the camera which was capturing footage directly to the hard drive of the laptop. "Are you some kind of amateur ghost hunter?" I grabbed the photo by the little leg thing that allows frames to stand on their own. It always looked like a miniature mountain, representing just how much power your photo memories carry.

From where Tanya had placed the item face down on her desk, I lifted it, making sure to put on a show. I moved slowly and then quickly, lifting it to the level of the camera.

"Am I a ghost hunter?" She repeated for the benefit of her audience. "Yes, you could say that."

I flipped the photo like a playing card. As expected, this resulted in me dropping the item on the floor. It landed facedown on the carpet, with an unimpressive thud. I wish I could have shattered it.

"So, what do you want with my grandpa?" she asked, like a reporter. "I'm assuming that's why you're here."

"Um, yeah." On the screen, I could see Tanya interviewing what appeared to be a floating framed picture. It was actually kind of adorable.

"Did he run you off the road?"

"I'm sorry, what?" Those were not words I expected from a nine-year-old. "Is that something he does a lot?

"All truckers do it."

"Your grandpa told you that?"

"Yup. Grandpa told me that your people are kind of like wild game animals; if responsible hunters didn't thin the herd you'd drain our nation's resources dry."

Charli gripped my hand. "Stay calm, we can just leave."

Then Tanya continued, "That's why you all have names like John Running Horse or Jane Hopping Rabbit."

Now Charli was laughing.

I rolled my eyes. Yes, her ignorance was funny. The same way a small child with her legs stuck in dried asphalt is 'funny.' I needed a moment to compose my response.

"You can't honestly believe that," I replied as politely as possible.

"My grandpa has no reason to lie." She was looking back and forth from her room to her computer screen.

'Just how many people had Randell Fish killed?' My heart was racing. 'I didn't even have a damn heart!' On the screen, I was beginning to appear in the form of orange light. That was all she wanted; something for her youtube channel, she'd probably add screams or other sound effects in post-production.

No, that was not necessary. I took a breath. This little shit did not deserve my anger.

Charli, while still holding my hand, moved closer to Tanya's face. "Hey, little shit!" It was clear Tanya did not see her. Either because of her race or because of the lack of a connection. It was a shame since I knew Charli could have done some real damage.

I focused on the laptop screen, my aura was fading, but I was still watching the photo floating gently in the air. 'This is good.' I knew I needed to keep my cool. Tanya wanted a show, that's all it was. And I could do that. I turned to Charli, motioning to the door.

Charli nodded. I watched as she focused on the door, securing both the deadbolt and the key lock.

Tanya was shitting a brick. Ok, maybe not that scared, but it was clear she was now trying to decide if she wanted to make an escape before it was too late.

I felt a tingle of empowerment. "Now be a dear and contact your grandpa."

"How?" she asked sweetly, keeping in character. "How should I contact my grandpa?"

Knowing Tanya wanted to capture another trick for the camera, I focused on her phone. I easily lifted the small iPhone from the bed, making it land in her lap. "You can call your grandpa or attempt to call for help, either one works for me."

Tanya only chuckled, placing the phone on her desk. She was amazed, impressed, but she was not scared.

'Ok, apparently I needed to be a little more forceful.' I looked in Charli's direction. She had taken down an entire plane, hopefully, she would be alright with me threatening a child. I moved closer, placing my hand to the back of Tanya's neck. As expected my ghost hand passed right through.

I needed a moment to focus; anger, rage, hate. I had nothing to lose. I clenched my fist I could feel I was gripping something.

Tanya started to cough, and spit, as she struggled to breathe. Soon there were tears in her eyes. The fear was real and it was delicious.

Charli appeared by my side. "We good, Tia?"

Seeing that she was turning blue I decided that I had made my point. "Yeah, I guess so."

The little girl collapsed to the floor, gripping her neck. "Your kind killed my mother!" Tanya crossed her arms over her stomach, gripping her chest as she sobbed.

"What did you say?" I asked. My voice went deep and the world went dark. Tanya wasn't lying, I knew that. But she had no right to invoke her 'victim privilege.'

"Mom was nothing like Grandpa, she supported 'black lives matter,' 'red lives matter,' 'all lives matter,' or whatever. She said as a good Catholic we needed to love our fellow man because everyone is someone's child, and we're all equal in the eyes of God! She preached love, supported charities, and even would pick a fight with Grandpa every chance she got!" Tanya struggled to breathe as she wiped snot from her nose. "Do you know what that got her? A bullet in the head!"

"I know."

"You know?" Tanya sat up. She wiped her tears with her clean sleeve, before looking me in the eyes.

"I'm related to a few people who were responsible for that."

Tanya nodded as she took a moment to digest that information. "So, this is all some kind of daisy chain of revenge?"

"Yup, you could say that. But it ends with Randell Fish."

"I understand." Tanya reached for her phone. She looked through her contacts, took a deep breath, and dialed. It rang only once. "Hi, Papa."

"Put the phone on speaker," I said, hoping my voice was not audible over the phone.

Tanya nodded and did as I asked. "Where are you, Papa?"

"I'm about twenty miles out," Randell replied. "Why do you ask, sweetheart?"

"I was wondering if you could come to dinner," Tanya spoke in a sweet energetic voice. "I really miss you."

"Aww, I miss you too Tanya. What time should I try to be there?"

Tanya glanced over at the clock, it was already six at night. "Seven or eight, whatever's easier."

"I'll be there as soon as I can, sweetheart. I love you."

"I love you too, Grandpa." Tanya hung up the phone. "So, what now? Are we going to just stay in here until he arrives?"

"Yeah, that sounds about right," I said with a nod. "You have a bathroom and if you don't have snacks hidden around here you are truly a weird kid."

Tanya smiled, reaching directly behind her. She looked to be grabbing a leg of her desk, but with the flick of her wrist, a secret panel opened, dispensing a single fun-size candy bar. "What kind of snacks did you hide in your room as a kid?"

"I was always partial for beef jerky or cheap off-brand twinkies."

"The off brands always taste better," Tanya said with a smirk.

As she picked up her phone, I noticed the lock screen, it was her mother's college graduation picture. "You're really proud of her."

"There was a lot to be proud of." Tanya's voice was soft, filled with genuine emotion.

It was clear she was a lost soul looking for guidance, in the wake of her mother's death.

We talked for a while, and I finally got the chance to introduce myself.

"Your name is Tianna, like the Frog princess? That's kinda cool."

I didn't mention Charli. No matter how confident I felt, I knew the worst was yet to come. And I needed an ace up my sleeve.

At around seven, there was a knock at the door. "Tanya, sweetie, it's Grandpa. Why is your door locked?"

Tanya looked at me. "I'm going to open the door, Tianna."

I nodded, knowing Randell Fish heard my name.

The tall older man wore his work clothes as if his semi-truck was parked right in the front driveway. He took a look around the room. "Who are you talking to sweetheart?"

Without a second thought, I punched Randell Fish in the chest as hard as I could. He doubled over in pain, his body melting into my ghostly form. My hand was gripping something; a bone, maybe part of a lung? Certainly not a heart.

Tanya took a step back. "I'm sorry, Grandpa."

"You're sorry?" he said with a laugh, as blood dripped from his mouth.

I gripped harder, pulling at whatever I had my hands on. "She's nothing like you." Your daughter, Sophia, was an amazing person and I am truly sorry for her death."

Randell was still smiling. "Does your dead, drug-dealer daddy know how the police found your body? Does he know you died sucking off that dirty cop?"

I looked towards Tanya, giving her a chance to run. Whatever she did next would determine her character. I watched as she took one step back, and then another until she was fully inside her studio.

"I don't know what you're talking about, grandpa," she said from behind the safety of her locked door. I had her blessing.

I tightened my grip. "Jay is not."

"A what? A killer? His reputation is ruined. The world will remember him as a sick bastard."

I pulled towards myself, tearing my hand from his chest, through his neck, to his head. Randell was still smiling like a psychopath as his body fell limp to the ground.

I looked down at my hand, unable to fully comprehend what I was holding. It was a mass of gore, spilling off my hands onto the floor. As I stood up, moving away from the body, I could see identifiable parts. There was a trail of organ meat that was once his throat, stomach, and small intestines. In my hand was his brain. I started to laugh. "I did it, Jay. I took his head."

Tanya's father arrived, along with the cook and the nanny. That was when I heard a beep. It was an alarm from the laptop. While everyone was screaming I snuck back into Tanya's studio. There was a message in a popup window, 'Capture limit has been reached.' The camera had been on the entire time.

Charli leaned over my shoulder. "Should we watch it?"

"I think the police should be the first ones to watch it."

The next few days seemed to rush by in a flurry of lights, and voices. The police took the laptop and the body. According to what they saw, Randell Fish fell to the floor, hitting his head over and over until (somehow) his brain fell out of his mangled skull.

Tanya had recorded herself sitting with her back against the door. Her grandfather's rant was followed by screams of pain and profanity. The footage ended with her crossing herself, looking directly at the camera.

The final footage made no sense. The girl was clearly talking to someone for over an hour before her white-trash trucker grandpa arrived. If this part was real then these officers would be forced to believe in ghosts and little girls with superpowers.

So, clearly, the victim had suffered a heart attack (not uncommon for a man his age.) That was deemed to be the primary cause of death.

Tanya was given back her computer and went straight to her YouTube page. Since the death had been deemed an accident she was allowed to post the footage (the parts of the footage that wouldn't get her channel in trouble for mature or obscene content.)

She spoke to her followers about the mysterious First Nation ghost. She didn't mention me by name, only that I was one of many victims killed due to race, age, or gender.

"As many of you know my mom was a judge," she said, speaking into her mic. "When she died, all I knew was that someone with dark skin murdered the most important person in my life. People around me just repeated that; bad dark-skinned people killed your mother, bad dark-skinned people are what's wrong with our society. But that's not the truth." She paused looking around for me. I was able to watch over her, but my emotions were no longer strong enough to allow her to hear me.

"When you lump all people into one group based on physical traits it doesn't make us strong, it makes us weak. We need to stand together to help one another, to make this world a better place. One voice at a time." Tanya looked up from her notes and wiped tears from her eyes. "Now I just have to wait for this to render." She looked around, "Tianna, Are you there?"

I was about to speak when suddenly I was pulled backward with a strong force.

This was the end of my story. I was about to move on.

I awoke on the highway, lying on the pavement under the star-filled sky. There was no moon, only a ceiling made of sparkling light, leading in one distinct direction. I stood up, dusting off my clothes. I was now wearing a simple white sundress with bare feet. The road was smooth, clean. In the distance, I could see a light. It wasn't anywhere close, at least a good mile away. The white formless shape looked like a building sitting just past the horizon. I was too tired to run, so I just calmly walked along the road, looking around for a sign.

"Daddy? Charli?" I didn't want to ask about Jay. He was alive. I knew that much. He had his daughters, his future grandbaby; they deserved to know him. God was cruel, but not that cruel.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flat lizard that seemed to glow. At first, it was pink, like a glowstick or a highlighter, (maybe a paint marker.) As I got closer it became orange, with details of red. "Hi, there little guy." As I stood over him, I could feel warmth, like a campfire, or a space heater. "What are you?"

Charli's voice replied. "An axolotl."

I turned around to see her, leaping into my friend's arms. With my legs wrapped around her, we kissed. Once, twice, and then I cupped her face. I could taste her breath, her tongue. There was a fire inside of me; a craving in the core of my soul, and only Charli could set me free. "Why is the lizard staring at us?"

"Axolotl."

"A what now?"

"A fire-type axolotl."

"Is it a guardian?"

"Hell if I know," she said, leaning in for another kiss. "But she's kinda cute, right?"

"Yeah, absolutely." I watched as the creature became brighter. Soon I could see a world beyond the road. Charli and I stood in awe.

"Do you want to see where it leads?" Charli was standing with her arms around me. "I mean you don't have to."

"What happens if I don't?"

Charli shrugged. "I guess you'll find the end."

"Why would anyone want that?"

"If they have someone waiting for them."

"Do you?"

Charli pulled me close for a much-needed hug. "Not really. Not that I know of."

"No one who you love more than me?"

"No one even remotely as cool as you."

We both laughed. Maybe we'd find Vena, or someone as cool as her. Maybe we'd meet more redneck truckers. Maybe I'd meet Jay again. Either way, Canada would never be the same.