《The phantom agency and the case of the missing souls》


 The park bench

    It was quiet. Still. No sound. Not even the birds had started their dawn chorus yet. A silent figure sat on a park bench. Waiting¡­. Waiting¡­ Always waiting.


    The girl looked around her, this park really was beautiful. A typical english stately garden. Complete with large foreboding house and shiny blue lake. It even had a few swans and ducks.


    Like I said, beautiful.


    The girl on the bench was restless, you could see it in her visage. She tapped impatient fingers on her crossed leg. If she were not careful, she would wear out the simple synthetic leggings that she wore. She completed this simple outfit with an eyesore of a top that had writing in neon pink and yellow. Spouting some maudlin diatribe, no doubt.


    ¡®¡¯Will you shut the fuck up! You''re doing my head in. I¡¯m not bringing you again. When we get back, I¡¯m dumping your arse in the shop and that¡¯s where you¡¯ll stay¡¯¡¯. I said, snapping like a turtle at the teenager sitting next to me.


    It had been a long night, catching up with the young girl and bringing her home had taken longer than it should. I was in a dark mood, and it was getting darker by the minute.


    It didn¡¯t help that the little shit sitting next to me had decided to narrate my life to quell his own boredom while we waited.


    ¡®¡¯Sor..ry¡¯¡¯ the teen said. ¡®¡¯I¡¯m bored, Dess. What time is it now¡¯¡¯?


    I turned my head slightly in his direction, too tired to do anything else.


    ¡®¡¯It¡¯s pointless to know the time. You know when it will happen. Just be patient, for fuck''s sake¡¯¡¯!


    I closed my eyes and sucked in a slow breath.


    ¡®¡¯I¡¯m sorry, that was mean. Triss, I don¡¯t know the exact time and the little bitch we are helping home broke my watch when she slammed me back against that wall¡¯¡¯.


    Triss nodded, as if he were remembering now.


    ¡®¡¯Yeah, she threw you good, that must have hurt, did it hurt¡±? He enquired.


    I closed my eyes again and counted to ten, a trick my dad had taught me to do when I found myself dealing with dickheads.


    ¡®¡¯You know very well it didn¡¯t hurt. Asking stupid questions like that are the reason you¡¯re no longer invited along with me again¡¯¡¯. I stated firmly.


    ¡®¡¯I¡¯m just trying to get our minds off the wait, we¡¯ve been here ages. I¡¯m bored. I know, let''s do something. how about skinny dipping,¡± he said as he waggled his eyebrows in my direction.


    ¡®¡¯First of all, you are 14 years old, secondly, I am not striping off and climbing in a freezing cold lake just so you won''t be bored, Triss. Act your age for once¡¯¡¯!


    I folded my arms across my chest in a bid to show Triss I meant what I said, and my word was final.


    ¡®¡¯You¡¯re only a few years older than me here, so you don¡¯t get to boss me around, and I don¡¯t care what you say, because I¡¯ve just decided that I don¡¯t like you¡¯¡¯.


    I turned my head in time to see him leave the bench, I called after him; ¡®¡¯thank Fuck for that, I was beginning to wonder if the ringing in my ears would ever stop, you talk so much¡¯¡¯.


    As I sat on the bench in the beautiful stately garden I huffed. My breath streamed out of my mouth and hit the frigid air, making it visible. I loved this time of day, just before dawn, the birds had woken up now and had started their songs. The ground was damp with dew and a slight mist could be seen at ground level.


    The signs that another day was starting. I should have been completely zen at that point, instead I was pissed off. Triss didn¡¯t know what he was talking about most of the time. He wasn¡¯t used to this place. I only brought him this time because he begged me.


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    To be fair to him he had been stuck in doors for a while, and I did feel a little sorry for him. I liked him, except when he opened his mouth, then I could cheerfully smack him one.


    I felt his return, but he didn¡¯t sit next to me.


    He was standing behind the bench, bobbing up and down on the balls of his feet.


    ¡®¡¯I¡¯m sorry,¡± he said quietly. ¡®¡¯I don¡¯t want to argue with you, Dess. Not when we are on our way home¡¯.


    I felt him touch my shoulder. I sighed.


    ¡®¡¯I don¡¯t want to argue either Triss. I am sorry I¡¯m such a grouch tonight. It took me longer than normal to track this girl and even longer to get her ready to leave with us.


    I¡¯m tired. I just need my bed. I need to recharge.¡¯


    Triss squeezed my shoulder; I knew he had accepted my apology. Besides, he was right. If we arrived squabbling Mum would be pissed off. And I would be forced to man the bookshop as punishment.


    As I thought this, I started to see the sun rise, as it did its rays hit first one tree, then the other. Like a spotlight, it shone on their proud branches and gorgeous foliage. The trees were old oaks. No one I knew had any idea when they or indeed, any of the small woods were planted.


    All we knew was this was the only way in or out.


    As the second tree shone with the winter sun''s rays you could see where the branch of one tree rested side by side with its neighbouring branch. Now, the woods beyond the two large oak trees were receiving the sun''s rays. As the dawn progressed into morning the two strong branches that laid side by side made it look like there was a doorway leading into the forest. A secret garden of twists and turns just waiting to be discovered.


    I gestured to Triss and we both started moving towards the small woods. Heading for the two oak trees and the path that lay in wait. As we reached the trees, I stopped. I withdrew my phone, typed a text message out and sent it.


    Within seconds, the natural space between the trunk of the trees and the overhead branches shimmered. This is what we had both been waiting for. Stepping forward, I allowed Triss to go before me. I was older, after all, and needed to make sure my younger counterpart went before me.


    I walked closer to the ¡®door¡¯ of trunk and branch. It was no longer quiet; I could hear people. Lots of them. Rushing around, getting on with their lives. This made me smile as I too walked towards the now brightly lit pathway that led into the dense trees and shrubs. I could hear a certain voice now. It made my smile even wider; my Mum had come to welcome me back and to help take the little girl home.


    When she saw me, I was pulled into a deep long hug. ¡®¡¯goddess I hate this part of your job. You could have gotten lost or something much worse¡¯¡¯ the words tumbled out of her mouth without meaning to. I took her hand in mine and looked at her pale face.


    ¡®¡¯Mum, I know what I¡¯m doing. Dad train me well. He wouldn¡¯t have let me sign up if he didn¡¯t think I was ready. It¡¯s ok Mum¡¯¡¯.


    I get a small, tight smile off her as she lets me go and pulls Triss to her. So, she could hug him. ¡®¡¯I¡¯ve been worried sick, young man. You know you¡¯re not meant to be there. I just wish you would listen to me for once. And don¡¯t point the finger at our Dess, I know how persuasive you can be. You shouldn¡¯t put her on the spot like that. You are grounded young man. You will come with me now, to the bookshop. Your sister can follow when she has finished what was started¡¯.


    Triss started to argue but soon realised it was pointless. You would not win the argument with her anyway. It was like her superpower. If nagging and fussing could be called that. Still, Mum was right to reprimand Triss. He was a little young to be going on retrievals. As she walked away from me, I could still hear her nagging at my little brother, Triss had pink cheeks and his head bowed as he listened to her. Mum never yelled. She didn¡¯t have to. It was the firmness in her voice, the stance of her body that let you know you were in big trouble.


    I looked around me, trying to make sense of the sea of faces before me. I knew I needed to get the little girl home, but I had been hoping that my father was among the throng of people walking the village square. But alas, he did not come. He didn¡¯t like a lot of people. He didn¡¯t like the hustle and bustle of a crowd. My shoulders slumped a little, but I brought my head back into the game and set off for Conner Street.


    That was where the little girl needed to be. And her parents were there waiting for her. I wasn¡¯t sure what generation I would need to walk into. I was hoping that a chat with the little girl would have yielded some sort of information. Although, the fact that she is 7 years old should allow me to dial the right code into the entrance box.


    Suddenly, the crowd started thinning out. The people had finally found the right area for themselves and were happily going about their business.


    I reached Conner Street and knocked on the pale green door with a large number 8 stuck to it. As I waited, I felt the girl struggle. We all knew this was not what the girl wanted. Well, I say ¡®Tough.¡¯ her parents wanted her home and that is what I made happen. The door to number 8 opened and a thin woman stood there. Not quite illuminated enough for me to see her face. But her voice seemed pleasant enough. ¡®¡¯do you have her? Dess. Did you bring her home to us¡¯¡¯?


    ¡®¡¯Yes Mrs Pool, I did.¡¯ as I said this, I handed her a medium sized thermal cylinder. Mrs pool thank me and closed the door. I let out a sigh, handing the girl over meant I was no longer on the case and responsible for the child. I could finally go home myself. But first I needed to pop into the book shop to see my parents.


    Otherwise, I would be the one grounded, even though I didn¡¯t live at home anymore. It was expected. If I was here, then I popped in. No hesitation. No excuse. I sometimes had to face horrid situations in my line of work. But none of those jobs were scarier than my mother, if she knew you were home and didn¡¯t go see her.

 The bookshop

    As I made my way to the book shop, I passed loads of shimmering doorways. None were mine, however. Not in this part of the village, anyway. The sun was well and truly up now. There it was cold and dark. Here, was always sunny. Always warm. Every day was a beautiful day.


    Thank the goddess I could leave and return to the mortal realm.


    THAT¡¯S RIGHT FOLKS.


    Some of you may have guessed that the two oak trees in the stately wood were in fact a doorway. A special doorway that transports people like me between the realms.


    How do I do that I hear you say. Well, I can do it because I am of both worlds. I am a shadow walker. A sprite, etc etc.


    I could blend in and do stuff that would not get me noticed by the light walkers.


    Do you understand now? Do you know what I am?


    I believe the few early morning risers that were jogging around the pond had noticed a young woman sitting alone. They saw the girl rise from the bench and walk over to the woods. Walk over to the oak trees and vanish. One or two of the joggers stop dead, not sure what they had seen.


    Not bothering to speak to each other, they went on their own way... Puzzled, yes. Bothered by it? No


    That was how I was able to do my job, I am as unremarkable in life as I was in death.


    That¡¯s right, I¡¯ve told you now.


    My name is Destiny Hopkins, I am 18 years old. I like to swim in the sea, explore caves and old castles. I¡¯m a sucker for musical theatre and I¡¯m pretty sure I have a crush on our village librarian.


    I¡¯m a Sagittarius. I like seafood and pizza. hmmmmm, what else do you need to know.


    Oh, shit, yeah. I forgot.


    I¡¯m a Ghost!!!!!


    On my way to the book shop I passed by many familiar faces. Some looked at me with a smile on their face, some didn¡¯t look at all.


    The ones that did always had a look of reverence on their faces. I hated seeing it. It made me feel weird. I could understand the people who chose to look away when they saw me coming. I even welcomed it.


    My face started to ache because of the fixed smile I placed upon it. I was only a few shops away from the book shop when, out of one of the other shops came a man I knew. Turning my smile into a genuine one I accepted the hug that came my way.


    ¡°How did it go? Did you find the missing girl¡±? He asked as he pulled back.


    ¡°Well, hello to you too Jace¡± I replied with a grin on my face. Jace had the decency to look embarrassed.


    ¡°I am sorry Dess. I was worried. You¡¯re hardly ever gone overnight. And you had Triss with you. I told you I should have gone with you.¡±


    I stood, slightly stunned as he said all of this with one breath. I tilted my head slightly, then closed my eyes a little. ¡°Firstly, I don¡¯t need help from someone who can''t do a bloody thing over there. And secondly, don¡¯t ever presume you can do what I do. I¡¯m a highly trained phantom agent. You¡¯re not¡±!


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    I snapped. I saw the red colour high on his cheekbones and winced.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. that was very rude of me, Jace. I didn¡¯t mean for that to come out as harshly as it did. I¡¯m tired. It¡¯s been an exceptionally long night made longer by the fact I had the most annoying teenager ever with me.¡± I finished on a huff. And then blew my hair out of my eyes.


    Jace looked at me with sympathy now, instead of anger. ¡°Apology accepted¡± he said with a warm smile.


    We both carried on walking towards the bookshop. Neither saying anything, after my little outburst I was feeling ashamed of myself, and I honestly didn¡¯t know what to say.


    It was a relief when I opened the door to the bookshop and inhaled the smell, like I always did. It smelt of musty old volumes, of paper and ink. It was always dimly lit, with only the bookshelves them selves being lit with small spotlights. As with everything in this world, the inside of the shop was a lot bigger than the exterior suggested.


    It had some oak, some walnut, and some cedar bookcases. They wrapped around you, each one nestled into the wall.


    Each bookcase held a different subject. Of course, no bookshelf could hold everything.


    All you had to do was pick up the phone that hang neatly on the wall to the right of each case, speak your request, wait a few seconds for a bright light to shine and then dim. Once this had happened you would hear a click and the case would turn into a door. When you walked through the door every piece of literature ever written on your specific genre was laid out in front of you, row upon row of them. All alphabetically arranged for your convenience. In the middle of the room, between the shelves were tables, with reading lights sat upon them, waiting for an avid reader to come along and immerse themselves within the pages.


    I loved this place. It made me feel safe, welcomed, and loved. I know that sounds sappy but its true.


    I was brought out of my revere when I heard my father call my name. He sounded annoyed. Why did he always sound annoyed.


    ¡°Destiny! I¡¯ve called you three times. Pay attention girl¡±!


    He scowled at me as he spoke to me, before he could say another word, I heard my mother coming up behind him and chastise him. ¡°Arthur, you know how tired Destiny is, stop shouting at her.¡± She clicked her tongue at him as she bustled away, doing her own work.


    Both my parents run this shop. Jace, who walked in with me earlier also works here. As did two other women. I didn¡¯t work here at the shop; my base was below the shop. That¡¯s where I was headed now.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry Dad, I honestly didn¡¯t hear you calling me, what did you want¡±? I asked, trying and failing to look contrite. He clicked his tongue at me and muttered ¡°never mind¡± as he turned and went into the room adjacent to the counter. I followed him. Keeping my eyes down I slunk past the counter and walked into my father''s domain.


    This was his room; it was a mix between the back of the shop and a man cave. It was where my father housed his private collection. His most prized books. He also had a few artefacts that he had collected whilst doing what I did now. He was retired from that way of life, of course. But he still loved to have all his ¡®trophy¡¯s¡¯ as I called them, all around him.


    It was precisely this fact, that annoyed my father so much. He hated what I did for a living, which was highly ironic when you¡¯re dead like me.


    He was still scowling as I walked past him to the very back of the room. There was a door here that had the words private keep out written on it. I held the handle and waited for the familiar feeling to run up my arm. The tingling that went with the glowing handle of the door always use to enchant me as a child. If I¡¯d known, then what I do now I would have screamed at myself to turn away from the door. Turn away and never look at it again. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on your view of my job, I did look at it. The door had always held some fascination I could never explain, I would be brought here everyday with my parents, I was schooled from here by my mother. I would see my father open the door often and always wondered where he was going. Sometimes, after he had closed the door behind him, I didn¡¯t see him again for days, but that didn¡¯t happen all the time, some days he would return to the main body of the shop within minutes.


    I noticed that whenever he went through the door my mother would have a worried look upon her face that didn¡¯t ease until he returned. However quick he was.


    Once I opened the door, I turned back to give my father a small smile, hoping to see one in return. Alas, just like every other time, he kept stoney faced until I closed the door behind me.


    I sighed as I waited for the inner doors to open. These doors opened automatically as they belonged to the lift; which had just arrived, and would take me down to the office I worked from.


    That was the whole reason my father didn¡¯t seem to like me very much these days.


    My fascination with the door had led to a discovery about me. A discovery that would change my life or death; forever. One that would take something from my father and bestow it upon myself. Wether I wanted it to or not.