Haunted Tales by Terri Reid Page A

imitated her earlier
position and stood by the bed, watching her sleep.   With a long, silent sigh, he shook his head.
“Dammit Mary, I’m so sorry,” he whispered harshly and then left the room.
    An hour later Mike reappeared, his
attention drawn by a sound coming from the basement.   Gliding down the stairs, he found Bradley,
wearing only pajama bottoms and bare feet, skipping back and forth in front of
a punching bag that was hanging from a rafter in the basement.   He was wearing boxing gloves and beating the
leather sides with hard, even hits.
    “Are you okay?” Mike asked him.
    Ever since Mike had fooled Bradley into believing he could
see ghosts, Bradley had been able to see Mike. Taking another couple more jabs
at the bag, Bradley leaned forward, grabbed the bag to stop its movement and
then looked over at Mike and shrugged.   Mike leaned against a nearby pillar and folded his arms over his chest.
“So, I’m taking that to mean no, you are not okay,” he stated.
    Sweat glistening on his chest, Bradley turned to him and
shook his head. “No, actually, I’m not okay,” he said. “So I came down here to
be alone. You know alone.” he added pointedly. “And beat something up.”
    “Yeah, alone sounds good.   And I can fade out of here,” he said. “But if
you wouldn’t mind, I just have one question.   Why are you not fine?”
    Bradley stepped away from the bag and looked at Mike. “I’ve
screwed everything up,” he said. “I have totally, completely screwed everything
up.”
    “Wow,” Mike replied. “I hadn’t realized that.   But just to be sure I understand , what exactly are we talking about here?”
    Bradley punched against the bag. “First of all,” he said, his jaw tight, “I have totally ruined Mary’s life.”
    Mike nodded. “Yeah, I can see that,” he said.
    “You can?” Bradley asked, turning suddenly towards Mike so
the swinging bag hit him and made him stumble.
    “Oh, yeah,” Mike agreed, standing up, walking closer and
meeting Bradley’s eyes. “First of all, you force her to fall in love with you.
She could have had her choice of guys, but no, you had to ruin things and be
the only man she could spend her life with.”
    “Well,” Bradley began, but Mike held his hand up, stopping
him.
    “Then, you give her a daughter, who she totally adores,
especially when she thought she would never have the chance to have a baby,” he
said. “A daughter whose birth she experienced.   A daughter she cared for so much, even before she met her,
that she would not let Ian wipe out through hypnosis the traumatic
things she experienced, because she always wanted to remember giving birth to
Clarissa.”
    Bradley’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know—” he began, but Mike
cut him off again.
    “And then, you had the audacity to get her pregnant,” Mike
continued. “A dream she’d always had, but had almost given up on.   And along with the morning sickness, the
fatigue and the change in her size, she gets to participate in a miracle. She
gets to feel a tiny person inside of her.   She gets to know that she is a partner with God in the giving of life.”
    Mike shook his head. “Yeah, you suck, man,” he said. “Big time.”
    Bradley pulled the gloves off his hands and then bent over
and laid them down on the floor under the bag. He stood up and looked at
Mike.   “Once again,” he said, his voice
filled with emotion, “I owe you. Thank you.”
    Mike nodded and smiled. “Go upstairs to your wife,” he said.
“Stop worrying, and start enjoying the time you have together. You never know
how much time you have on this earth with the people you love.”
    Bradley’s eyes widened in concern. “Is that a warning?” he asked.
    Shaking his head sadly, Mike started to fade away. “No, it’s
the voice of experience.”

 
 

Chapter Twenty-six

 
    “Hi, Mom,” Mary said into the phone the next morning. She
leaned back in her chair and propped her feet up on the