Ghost of a Chance (3/4)
by Amparo Bertram, concept by Betsy Vera © 1996

Betsy thanked Richard profusely when they arrived at last at the entrance of the deli. With a nod of his head, he rose into the air and flew off, fading from sight--literally. The NatPacker breathed a sigh of relief and pushed through the doors.

Cheery lights and delicious aromas greeted her entrance. The place didn't host many this early in the morning, but a few people occupied scattered seats. Betsy staggered to the counter and ordered some caffeine, in whatever form seemed most handy. She didn't recognize the person serving her, but when her Coke arrived she asked about Cohen's ex-husband anyway. Unfortunately, the young man hadn't seen him.

"Now what?" she asked when he had moved out of earshot. She gulped her soft drink gratefully. "We could wait around here, see if maybe someone on a more reasonable shift will know him."

"I might not have that long," Cohen reminded her.

"Captain?" came an unexpected voice. "Captain, is that you?"

Betsy spun around, nearly knocking over her cup. Standing there, large as life--though not as substantial--was Detective Donald Schanke.

Cohen welcomed him with one of her rare smiles. "Nice to see you again, Detective. What brings you here?"

"Just looking for some friends," the ghost replied. "I felt the tug of a lot of people thinking about me in one place, and I remember the last time that happened. I thought I'd stop by and say hello, but no one can see or hear me." He sat on the stool next to Betsy, though the seat showed no sign of his weight. "What's worse, I can't eat the food. How about yourself?"

"I'm searching for my daughter, Evelyn. She's living with her father, but I don't know where. I was hoping someone here could tell me."

"Wish I could help you, Captain." He appeared a bit sad. "I miss my family, too. At least I know where they are, and I can check in on them, watch over them."

It took a while, but Betsy finally squeezed some words out past her shock. "Schanke! You, too?"

The shade brightened. "Hiya. Gee, someone from the Land of the Living."

"Barely." Betsy finished off her drink. "It's great to see you, even if this is all a hallucination. By the way, I've got a message for you."

"Oh?"

"Everyone says 'hi'--Perri, Cath... Pam Rush sends warmest regards to her Dear Donny."

He grinned. "She always made me the best souvlaki. Maybe I'll drop by when she's sleeping for a dream brunch."

"I'm sure she'd appreciate that. Well, Captain," she turned to the other ghost, "shall we hit the streets once more?"

"What's our plan?"

Betsy shrugged. "The sun'll be up soon. Things should look better in the morning. It might help us think of another set of options."

"Lead the way. So long, Detective."

"Bye, Captain."

With that, the two women exited the deli and resumed their quest.

***

Time: 9am
Place: Streets of Toronto

Betsy's footsteps dragged. The caffeine had worn off and she could hardly keep her eyes open. They had been roaming for hours, waiting for either an idea, a clue, or divine intervention. Preferably all three.

Betsy gave up the battle, closing her eyes and sleepwalking along, following the sound of Cohen talking. It worked fine for a few minutes, until suddenly a gruff male voice shouted, "Watch where you're going!"

She froze instinctively, her eyes snapping open to see that she was standing half-overlapping an older man. She hastily backed away, staring as the man--or, rather, ghost--patted his chest to be sure it was intact. "Harry?" She had little difficulty recognizing him. "But you're not an FK ghost!"

"Darn tootin'," said MacGyver's grandfather.

"That does it!" Betsy plopped down on the sidewalk. "I refuse to budge another inch. I'm obviously a raving lunatic, so there really isn't any point." The passersby seemed inclined to agree as they scooted past, casting curious glances in her direction.

"Nonsense, young lady," Harry contradicted vehemently. "You most certainly are not raving."

Betsy let the words sink in, then began to giggle. By this time, anything anybody said would have seemed hilarious. "I don't suppose--you've seen--a girl named Evelyn Cohen?" she gasped out between bursts of laughter.

"Nope, can't say as I have. But I'm sure someone has. Those of us on the spirit plane tend to get about quite a bit. Lack of physical barriers and all that."

Betsy wiped her eyes as the giggles subsided. "So all I have to do is ask around?"

"Can't hurt to try."

"Thanks, Harry." She scrambled to her feet. "I've spent half the morning on this project already, I may as well see it through." She suppressed another chuckle at the "see-through" pun. "C'mon, Captain, we've got work to do."

End Part 3

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Page created August 1998. Original material © Betsy Vera (bentley@umich.edu). Page background source: Jay Boersma. This website is for information and entertainment purposes only and is not intended to infringe on copyrights held by others.