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An Entry From The Private Journal Of Doctor Jack Tyler – September 2nd, 201- Part-II

Nathan turns and sees me.  He waves and smiles, as does my mother, then they go back to their talk.  Meanwhile, my children notice the fox who has started racing around my feet again and come over to investigate.  As they draw near, I kneel down and my furry companion flops down on his back and allows me to give him a belly scratch.

My son and daughter gasp in awe, and in that moment, I have become the coolest dad ever.  Or so I believe until several smaller foxes, come out of hiding and begin to start yipping and getting rambunctious around me.  I start to pet them as well, but there are simply too many.  Inside my head I hear, ‘Too much?’  Glancing over at Nathan I gesture with my head towards my son and daughter.  

He nods and soon the little kits are frolicking around my children, who proceed to pet them every so gently.  I’d seen enough kids come into the surgery with bites and scratches from family pets or stray animals, so Cheryl and I made sure Joe and Darlene understand how to behave around animals, even friendly ones.

My little friend suddenly abandons me and heads over to where my mother is standing and begins to demand attention from her.  The smile on her face as she bends down to comply is priceless. 

A voice from behind me asks gently, “She’s doing well?”

“Very well,” I reply without turning around.  I don’t want to take my eyes off my mother at that moment, for fear I might suddenly wake up and find that I’m still only sixteen and that she’s still fighting a losing battle with cancer.  

I had cut out of school early that day.  The news that she wasn’t responding to the treatments had been devastating.  I couldn’t eat, think or control my temper.  At one point I came close to putting a freshman through a wooden door during second period.  I can’t even remember why I did it, I just know it happened.  Three teachers had to pull me off the kid and had ordered me to go to the principal’s office.  Needless to say I didn’t go.  Instead I ran all the way here, to this very spot, and collapsed.  

I cried, punched the ground, cursed life the works.  It was so unfair.  Why should my mother be given a death sentence.  Where was the justice in that?  Why weren’t the doctors doing more for her?  Why couldn’t they save her?  

Exhausted from my rage I fell asleep and woke to find night was already closing in.  I remember seeing a full moon through the branches of a tree.  It was so beautiful, for a moment I forgot my pain and wished my mother was there to see it with me.  She loved looking up at the night sky.  Then I remembered she wouldn’t be able to do that for much longer, and it all came flooding back.  

That was when the fox showed up.  Apparently, she had been watching me for some time and could sense my distress.  She wanted to come closer, but was afraid.  But then a mist slowly crept across the forest floor.  It seemed to swirl and move towards us as if it had a mind all its own.  The fox was alarmed at first but then after sniffing the air, she seemed calmer and more confident.  That was when she came over and started to sniff and nuzzle my hands.  

I was so amazed at this behavior, that I forgot that it was a wild animal and gently stroked her fur.  She seemed to like it, and soon climbed into my lap.  Tears filled my eyes again, partly from the gesture and partly from my pain.  

At that moment I so wanted my mother to be there with me, healthy and whole, so she could enjoy this wondrous moment.

I must have spoken aloud because a voice came out of the mist which continued to hang around in the area.  “The treatments aren’t working, John?”

Startled I looked around but saw no one.  Yet I knew I was not alone.  “No, they aren’t.  I’m going to lose her and there’s nothing I can do about it.” I cried back.  “Doctors and their medicine suck!”

“You know that’s not true,” the voice said softly.  “They’re trying everything they can to save her and you know it.”

Sobbing I nodded, “Yes, I do know that.  But it’s not enough.”

Then from out of the mist I saw a hand followed by a figure that seemed to slowly solidify in the mist.  Soon the owner of the hand stepped out of the fog and I saw it was Nathan.  

To say I was taken aback by his entrance would be an understatement.  He was no stranger to me, I’d known him since I was little.  My mother always introduced him as a friend of the family who was always welcome in our home.  But something about him never seemed quite right to me.  Oh he was friendly and always a lot of fun, but deep down I always knew there was more to him than met the eye.  And here, in my darkest hour, I had found out I was right. 

Oddly enough, the realization actually made me feel more at ease with him.  Even as he sat down beside me, I wasn’t the least bit afraid of him.  

“You’re not human,” I blurted as he reached over and petted the fox who was still in my lap.

“Depends on your point of view,” he replied calmly.  “I was born human, but then life took an unexpected turn and I became something more.”

For a while I didn’t say anything.  A faint hope had started to rise within me, but I was terrified of letting it get grow too much.  But at that point there was no stopping it, and I asked, “Is there anything you can do for my mother?  Can you keep her from dying?”

I remember he looked at me from the corner of his eyes for a moment, and then said, “Yes and no,” he answered.  “I can’t stop her from dying because we all do that one day, but I can give her more time.”

“How much more?” I asked carefully.

“Fifty-sixty years, possibly longer,” he answered.  Then he gave the fox a scritch behind the ear saying, “You’re a good girl.  I appreciate you keeping my young friend company.”

Suddenly a thought occurred to me. “You made her come to me, didn’t you?  You’re controlling her somehow.”

Nathan frowned at that.  “I do not control others,” he corrected.  “I create a bond by placing a little part of myself inside them.  Once I’m there, I can make suggestions or help alleviate any fears or misgivings they have.”

“Is that what you’d be doing with my mother?” I asked.  

He thought about this for a moment and answered, “Yes and no.  Yes, some of me would be going into her, but not like what I did with our friend here.  My body produces a certain kind of cell that can be harvested and used to help fight things like cancer.  But it takes me a long time to grow those cells in enough numbers to make a difference.  Once they’ve been taken from me, I won’t be able to help anyone else the same way for a few decades.”

“Will it hurt?” I asked.

“Nah, she won’t feel anything but better,” he assured me.

“I meant you,” I clarified and waited.  He didn’t answer right away, which told me everything I needed to know.  “I thought so,” I continued, “But you’re willing to do it for her?”

“Of course.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve watched over her all her life, just as I did her mother and her mother’s father,” he replied.  “They’ve all been family to me.”

“But you’re not related to us,” I pointed out.  “You told me so yourself a long time ago.”

Here he smiled and said, “Family isn’t always about blood.  Sometimes families are formed in other ways.  They’re formed by people who become close by always being there for one another.  By caring and loving.  Weathering storms and making sure no one gets left behind.”

“I think I understand,” I told him and asked, “When will you get your cells ‘harvested’?”

“Tonight,” he answered.  “A friend of mine is coming into town and we’ll be taking care of things down in the cellar of The Crypt.”

“I’d like to be there for you,” I told him. 

He smiled and took my hand, “I’d appreciate that…”

“Jack?”

I opened my eyes and saw Nathan eyeing me curiously.  “Are you okay?”

“Sorry, I wound up taking a trip down memory lane,” I told him.  Then I looked over to where Cheryl had been setting out the food.  Everything was ready.  My mom was already helping serve the food, and calling to my kids to come and get it.  

They obeyed, but with great reluctance.  The two of them had been having a lot of fun with the foxes, who were now hovering nearby, with high hopes for a handout or two.  

“When did you ‘influence’ them?” I asked Nathan as we went over to join my family.  

“I didn’t,” he replied.  “They’ve just gotten used to me.  I always come here when I visit, and I think some of them are descended from our friend back when you were in high school.  She brought her kitts out to meet me.  After that they always come out to greet me and did the same thing with their broods.”

I laughed, “You have extended families all over the place, don’t you?”

“And they come in all shapes and sizes,” he smiled.

“Do they ALL know about you?”

“Most of them,” he replied.  “I usually hold off telling them until they hit a certain age.”

“I think Joe and Darlene are old enough,” I tell him.  

Nathan looks up into the night sky for a moment and says, “After we eat.  It looks like a good night to stretch my wings.”

Out of the corner of my eye Cheryl gives me a wide-eyed look.  ‘Is he going to tell them?’ she mouths at me.  

I nod. 

She gives me a wide smile.  I know she’s remembering when Nathan shared his secret with her.  He took her up with him.  I can hardly wait to see what he does with my kids.

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E-Journal of Nathanlie Eoghan Steward October 11, 2018 “GHOSTS” – Part V

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Anyway, I make a face at my old friend, while Lisa and Brian finally find their words and begin peppering me with all kinds of questions. Mostly they want to know why I never said anything about a movie career.

Sighing, I head over to them and explain, “My ‘movie career’ as you both call it, was rather short-lived. What you have in your hands was supposed to be my screen test.”

“Screen test?” Lisa repeats and holds up the cannisters in her hands. “This is a two-reeler. That’s not a screen test, that would be full-length comedy feature back in 1912.”

“Two-reels?” I barely manage to get the words out, as my mind races across the decades. Had we really shot that much footage? Obviously, we must have since Lisa’s holding the proof in her hands. But how is that possible?

As the memories of that day unfold in my head, I realize we must have filmed a lot more than I thought we had. Which makes sense, really. Until that day, I’d never stepped on a movie set. So I had no idea what to expect. Admittedly, all the sets, props, and costumes, were much like what I was used to seeing at the theaters, but this was a very different kind of ‘stage’. It was more 3-dimensional and had no place for an audience to sit. Instead, there were cameras and lighting that was different than what I was used to in the theaters I’d worked. In short, the whole thing was oddly familiar and very different at the same time.

After I finally caught my breath, and got my bearings, we got down to business. I spent the rest of the day paying attention to everything Roscoe and Al were telling me to do and how to play the scenes. Looking back, I realize now that a lot of the times I thought we were rehearsing, the camera was actually rolling. Plus, we were all having so much fun together it’s no wonder I didn’t realize how much of our antics were being caught on film. as well.

The chemistry between me, Roscoe and Al, had been so good to the few who had been on hand assisting with the filming, were making plans for more films involving the three of us before we had even finished. Upon hearing this, Roscoe, Al and I spent the rest of the night talking and celebrating, as we all looked forward to working together for years to come.

Alas, none of it came to pass.

You see, a few days later, Roscoe called me in to join him, Minta (his wife), their dog Luke, Al St. John and a few others, to show us some of the footage that had been shot. It had just come back from being processed and we were all eager to see how my performance turned out. It turned out to be a rather empty one.

The scene playing before us on the screen that day was one where Luke had grabbed me by the seat of my pants, making me spin wildly trying to dislodge him. But there was no sign of me on the screen. All we saw was Luke, his four paws completely off the ground, spinning round and round in mid-air.

It was then that I learned that ‘silver’ was used in the celluloid film, as well as a mirror inside the camera, which meant neither could ever capture my image.

We didn’t bother looking at the rest of the film. Or at least I didn’t. I was too heartbroken at the time, and so were Roscoe, Minta and Al. Heck, even Luke padded over to me and hopped up into my lap trying to comfort me. He was such a good dog.

After the initial shock had worn off, I spent a few days with my friends before I decided to head back to vaudeville. There, despite Roscoe and Minta’s urgings, I simply went back to being another stage-hand behind the scenes. Eventually, a quartet of brothers (Groucho, Chico, Harpo and Zeppo) took me under their collective wings. In time they taught me how to play a number of musical instruments and further developed my comedic skills and timing. Before I knew what was happening, they had me back on the stage to assist in their escapades. On occasion, I even stood in for each of them at one time or another, when that person couldn’t make the performance. Still, the sting of my failed attempt at becoming a film star never faded.

And even whenever I saw Roscoe, we never talked about the footage, so I simply assumed he’d destroyed it. But of course, he hadn’t.

I only found out it still existed shortly after Roscoe had passed away quietly in his sleep on June 29th, 1933. After the funeral, Addie (his third wife) had asked to see me and that was when I learned the footage still existed. Why Roscoe had kept the footage all that time, even she didn’t know. However, according to his will, it was to be turned over to me upon his passing along with a few other bits of his estate.

Naturally I took charge of the cannisters and did everything I could to keep them safe. Why? Because the fact that Roscoe hadn’t destroyed them meant something. For whatever reason, he’d held onto that footage, so I felt obligated to preserve them.

In time, when film preservation efforts had reached a good point, I had them fully restored and copied, along with the other celluloid treasures here in my vault. Yet even then I hadn’t been able to bring myself to watch it. The ghosts of what ‘might have been’ has always been just a little too…

“So?” Lisa purrs in my ear just then, making me jump slightly. I was so wrapped up going down memory lane, I hadn’t noticed or even sensed her moving closer to me. “Are you going to tell us what’s on these reels?”

“Roscoe dealing with a ghost, obviously,” I reply casually, while trying to quiet my heart which is suddenly beating in double-time for some reason.

“And who played the ghost?” she persists sweetly.

“I did,” I answer with a bit of false bravado, “And for the record I was quite convincing.” Then add silently to myself, ‘A little too convincing actually.’ Again, I look down at the cannisters once more and frown. It was only supposed to be a screen test. And even if we shot that much footage, why would Roscoe not only save the footage, but give it a title?

“Because I never intended it to be just a screen test, you dope,” Roscoe’s voice murmurs in my other ear, making me jump once more.

I quickly glance to my right to see him resting his chin on my shoulder, while Lisa continues to do the same on my other shoulder. I briefly wonder with of them is the angel and which is the devil. That’s what usually happens in a case like this, right?

Mentally, I ask him, “What do you mean?”

“It was always supposed to be your first film, Nate. Your big break!” he smiles back.

Lisa suddenly inhales, which takes me by surprise. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear she had just heard what Roscoe said. But that’s impossible. This version of him has been formed from my memories. There’s no way she could have heard him.

Shaking my head, I decide to focus my attention on the cannisters once more.

Lisa quietly puts a hand on my arm and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Nathan?” she says, with a hint of worry in her tone.

But I barely notice, as a final piece of the puzzle drops into place for me. And without thinking I breathe, “Roscoe… you finished it?”

Stepping in front of me my old friend nods and gives me a huge smile. “Of course! The way you by me throughout all three trials, meant so much to me. But the fact that you were even willing to testify in my third trial in person and tell everyone that you were the one who found Virginia and then I stumbled in…”

“WAIT!” Lisa suddenly gasps and stares at me. “YOU were there at the party the night Virginia Rappe collapsed?”

Instantly, I do a double-take. She heard him? But how? I know she’s psychic and can see and even hear ghosts and…

Suddenly, I turn to back to my old friend whose smile has become even more broad than before as he says, “Boo!”

TO BE CONTINUED…