The Book

It was getting real late, the library was so barren Ricky could hear the conversations being had in the cars that drove by. The clock kept ticking slower and slower as the time to lock the doors came closer. 

This was Ricky’s first job. For many years he was given an allowance from his father but they had abruptly gone away. So finally, in his senior year of high school, he had to go out and start making a living. He offered to work the second shift since that would go perfectly with his school schedule and the library closes in time for him to grab dinner and hang out with his friends. While the pay was not as large as his weekly allowance, he still enjoyed the work mainly because of how quiet and mundane his shifts had become. He could sit back, do all his homework while on the clock, and plug his earphones in to relax. Even though he really never had any affinity towards books, or reading for that matter, he loved every second of every shift he had worked up to this day. 

Finally, the big hand on the clock dragged over above the 12 as the little hand sat firmly placed above the 7. Closing time! Ricky unplugged his earphones, picked up all his books from the desk and shoved them in his bag with no regard on whether it would ruin them or not. He throws on his jacket, puts on his beanie, and quickly zips up his backpack. “Damn it!”, he yells in excruciating pain as he holds his right index finger close to his chest. As the pain starts to diminish, he pulls his hand away, lets go of his finger, and notices that it is cut just a bit and he is bleeding. The thick red blood dripping from his finger like lava leaving a volcano. Angerly, he turns and punts his bag over the front desk and lets out a loud war like scream. As his books are now scattered over the floor, his foot now in pain as well, Ricky limps over to the bathroom to wash and clean off his finger. 

BANG! Ricky turns in a flash to see what could have possibly made that noise. He looks around and sees that there is no one in sight. 

“Hello?”, he stammers, “Is anyone there?”

No answer. 

The lights are all out except the one in the front where he works. Even that light is dimmed and now is beginning to flicker more than it ever has before. He takes a moment, looks around, and figures to himself that the sound must have come from the outside. He regathers himself, tries to play it off as if he was not startled and continues to limp over to the bathroom. 

BANG!

Ricky jumps so high he nearly hits his head on the ceiling. He is so startled that he has completely forgotten about the blood on his finger and sharp pain he feels on his ankle. 

“Alright, real funny! You got me!”, he says as he tries to play it off cool, “You can come out now. I thought I was meeting you guys at the pizza joint?” 

Deafening silence. The front light starts to flicker even more than it did before. 

Now Ricky is starting to think that his friends are not behind all this. His actions now become more strategic and cautious. 

“Hey asshole, I’m calling the cops!”, his voice cracks with fear, “They’ll be here real soon!”

Silence. Nothing but silence.

Suddenly, the light in the back corner of the library turns on. Ricky catches this out of the corner of his eyes and slowly turns to face the light. There in the far back corner, a book lies in the center of the aisle. A spotlight right over it as if it was a gift from above. With no limp, Ricky makes his way over to the aisle. The light shines harder and brighter than he ever remembers any do in this library. As makes his way down the aisle towards the books he realizes this was a part of the library he rarely went down. He can see the dust and cobwebs making each and every book their home. 

Finally, he gets to the book on the floor. He bends over, lets out a grunt, and picks it up. He flips it over, takes a look, and wipes the dust off the front using only his hand. He realizes that it is an old book, one dealing with spirits beyond the grave.

Ricky looks who wrote it, takes a second, and thinks nothing of it. When he goes to place the book back he notices that there are no spots available. This is strange to him. He looks back and forth, up and down, but cannot find where this book belongs. He finally has had enough and just places the book on top of others horizontally, and starts to head back.

BANG!

Ricky freezes. He can feel the stiffness coursing through his body. He knows what just happens but he does not want to see it. He takes a couple seconds and begins his slow turn to face what he already knows to be true. Still, the turn feels like an eternity. 

There it was, in the exact same position he originally found it - in the middle of the light, face down. Ricky’s face is struck with fear. He doesn’t know what to do. Should he call someone? Should he forget about this and just run? Or should he open it?

Instantly all the lights turn on once he is finished that last thought. He is startled and looks around. He makes his way back down the aisle so he can have a clear view of the front door. No one is there nor is anyone near where the main light switches are. 

The lights are now brighter than ever. Ricky shields his eyes with his hand but the brightness cannot be contained. He turns away and heads back down the aisle towards the old book. The closer he gets to the book, the dimmer the lights get. He bends down, picks up the book, and heads over to a table to sit down at an old and worn down table. He gently places the book on the table as if he suddenly cares what happens to it. He pulls his chair out, sits down, and pushes himself in without taking his eyes off this book. Something is going on here and he knows it. 

BUZZ!

Ricky’s phone goes off in his pockets. The buzz is so loud that it shakes the table. He opens his phone to check.

“Yo dude, where u at?”, the text reads. 

Ricky takes a moment, looks at the book and responds. 

“Something came up, cya guyz tomorrow”, he clicks sends and closes his phone. This book now has his full attention. 

Ricky dusts off the rest of the book, making sure it looks nice. He takes one look at the cover. There is no title, just a saying, “When Those Who Are Gone Want to Talk Back” with a picture of an angel stretching her hand down from the clouds to a family of four that are dressed in robes as if they are from B.C. times. 

Not giving a care about what page he is opening up to, he grabs a random page and opens to it. The page is blank. There is nothing to be seen. He turns a page. Another blank page. He turns another page. And yet again another blank page. Ricky feverishly flips through the rest of the pages trying to see if there is anything in this book at all but to his dismay, there were nothing but blank pages to be found.

OUCH!

As he turns the final page, Ricky gets a paper cut on the same finger on which he got cut from his backpack. When he goes to hold his finger, blood drips from his finger onto the blank page. He can hear the splatter hit the page.

“Shit!”, he hops out of the chair, runs over to the bathroom, and grabs a fistful of paper towels. When he gets back to the book, he notices something quite odd. The drop of blood has now been soaked into the paper. As he tries to wipe it off, there it stays, firmly planted in the page. Ricky wipes harder and harder hoping that it finally works. He even tries the old lick the towel and then wipe trick and even that does not work.

Out of nowhere, the blood stain starts to expand and moves like a wave via a circular motion. And instantly, the blood is gone. Ricky’s face is frozen. He does not understand what he just witnessed and experienced. He notices that the blood is starting to form a word.

“Hello Ricky” it writes in perfect cursive literature.

SLAM!

Ricky immediately shuts the book. He stands up from the table while his eyes remain fixated on the book. He doesn’t move. He just stands and stares at the book. Silence. He looks around as he paces around the table to try and calm himself down. He takes a deep breath and without fear, sits down and opens up the book back to the page where the message still awaits him. His hands are a bit shaken as he touches the page to see if this is really happening. 

“Hello?”, he says with a shake in his voice, “Holy hell, I just tried talking to a book.”

The message dissolves into the page and then again, the blood begins again to expand and move in a circular wave-like motion as it did before. 

“It’s okay, don’t be scared Ricky”.

This statement has the exact opposite effect on Ricky. His nerves are jumping through the roof and he can feel his heart beat in his head. 

“Who are you!” Ricky unintentionally screams. 

Again, the blood goes through the usual motions before it writes its message. 

“Watch your tone with me. You were taught better.”

This statement confuses him. He has heard those two lines many times before from someone he loves but is no longer with him anymore. He’s afraid to take the leap and guess who it is. So he goes with a safer response.

“Who are you to tell me how to speak?” 

He sits up in anticipation as he watches the blood do its thing before it writes a message back. It takes the same amount of time but to Ricky, it’s taking just that much longer. Finally, words are starting to be able to be read.

“Who am I?”, Ricky reads this part faster than he has read anything in his life. “You know who I am. I’ve known you your whole life.”

There it is. It hits him. While he is not 100% certain but he’s as close to sure as he can be. A calmness comes over him. His body relaxes but his face is still close to the page where he can smell its scent.

“Dad?”, he says with a glimmer of hope in his voice.

The blood starts to do its thing again, Ricky can hardly sit still. His armpits are sweating, his foot tapping constantly. 

“In the flesh.”

Ricky instantly leans back in his chair, folds his arms together and laughs. Only his dad could say a joke that dumb. It was him and he knew it. As he continued laughing, tears came from his eyes. Almost the same amount as the day he had to say goodbye in that dreaded hospital room. Ricky didn’t know how this was happening but he did not care in the slightest. He got his wish. He got his dad back.

BUZZ!

His phone goes off and takes him out of his bliss. He looks at the text message. It is from his concerned mother.

“Everything ok? Where u at?”

He puts the phone down without answering. The smile on his face is ear to ear. He looks at the page, wipes a couple more tears from his eyes.

“Come on dad, let’s go see mom.”

The blood does its thing.

“Sounds wonderful. Let me just grab my things.”