Drowned silence

It was raining again, but that time Edgar was outside, even though it was not pouring like on that one unfortunate Friday; there were not many people around, which was for the better, but now even his plain grey umbrella managed to stand out. After walking for some time, he reached the vicinity of what was seemingly becoming more and more a cursed high school: he did not like that adjective nor used it lightly, but in that case he did not have a better or rational explanation.

“… why is it always the Andrew Bell?”

When John had asked him about that, with his hands around his chocolate drink, his mind far away and his gaze unseeing, forlorn in a way he had not shown for quite some time, Edgar had not managed to answer, but only to try and offer a meagre and frankly pitiful excuse for comforting.

For once John had not asked him to go and investigate, but it was the exact reason why Edgar was doing that, despite everything.

Sure enough, when he arrived at the accident scene, next to the sadly colourful flowers and the framed photo of the deceased middle schooler there was that same middle schooler’s translucent and ghostly figure, that was trying with all their might to attach something that in a past life must have been a rectangular piece of paper, by now sopping wet, to the forehead of a statue. Needless to say, they were failing, their hands not managing to actually grab the object in question for more than a few seconds at a time.

Edgar took a deep, stabilising breath and then got closer, careful not to touch the flowers and mementos assembled there. “… hey, kid.” He tried not to think about the fact that they had been just five years younger than him, give or take, when they died. “Do you need help?”

The phantom suddenly turned to him, their widened eyes full of disbelief. “You can see me?”

Edgar forced himself to smile. “I can also hear you. You seemed troubled.”

The late middle schooler threw their hands up in the air. “Yes, because it keeps falling off! They told me to keep it on its forehead, but it just- won’t!” They became more desperate the more they talked, ending with a frustrated groan.

“‘They’?”

“Yes, my classmates! This statue is possessed, you know? So they told me to keep this on its forehead to exorcise the demon- you know, like in the series, The Talisman!” So it was like that… “I nearly managed, but then I slipped, and I fell, and I hurt my head, and since then I… since then I-” Their eyes were shimmering, as though they wanted to cry, but no tears could be generated by an incorporeal spirit.

Edgar suppressed all the unsavoury thoughts that could be had hearing a story like that: jumping at conclusions or even deducting from clues was useless anyway, at that point. He clenched his free hand, gripping his umbrella with the other, but then he managed to speak. “You don’t have to worry anymore, I’ll help you.”

“Really? How?”

“I’m… I’m an exorcist.” The kid seemed doubtful, so, with his best poker face on, he added: “I can see and hear you, after all, can’t I? I can also exorcise demons.”

The ghost seemed to brighten all of a sudden. “So-”

Edgar nodded, and his expression morphed between something soft and stoic. “You’ve done your part well: now give me the talisman, and rest. I’ll take care of everything else.”

“Thank you!” The kid did as he was told, and a few seconds later their body faded.

Now alone under the constant rain, Edgar squeezed the once piece of paper, letting his umbrella fall to the side and looking at the angry grey sky above.

*

Sitting on the sofa with a soft cover over his legs and a mug of hot tea in his hands, Edgar was looking out of the window, that was still being hit by rain droplets in a steady rhythm.

That time too he had just done the bare minimum to let a ghost leave the living realm, but he knew that sooner or later he should have faced the problem at its root.

What is it with the Andrew Bell, anyway?

Until he decided to try and give an answer to the question that had plagued him since he had met John for the first time, however, he had no option but to move forward.