Pottery Phantom

Submitted into Contest #102 in response to: Write about a mysterious figure in one’s neighborhood.... view prompt

1 comment

Crime Funny Fiction

Monday 23:13 

The cell door closed behind Bishop. The other person in the cell looked up from the top bunk to greet his new cell mate, but was surprised to find a child. Bishop walked in with his head down holding his sheets and toothbrush. The older man climbs down from his bed. 

“How old are you? You look like a kid.” Bishop shakily raises his head to answer the man but stumbles over his words when he sees a man covered in tattoos. In a skittish voice he answers. 

“I’m eleven.” 

“How does an eleven-year-old end up in a prison?” Bishop looks off to the side like he sees someone who isn’t there. 

“You wouldn’t believe me. Nobody does.” The older man smiles trying to ease the boy's nerves. 

“I’m all ears.” The boy took a deep breath, hoping the man wouldn’t think he was insane. 

“My pottery mentor died Thursday night.” The older man gave Bishop a sympathetic look. 

“I’m sorry kid. I know it's hard losing someone at such a young age, but the ones we love are never really gone” 

“That’s the thing, he isn’t really gone at all. I can see him. He's the reason I’m here.” Bishop doesn’t realize that he’s raising his voice. “He asked me bring his murderer to justice and I tried and now the police think I murdered him.” Bishop regains his focus and sees that the older man looks skeptical. The man looks for the right words to say. 

“So, you see dead people?” Bishop let out a sigh and looked off to the side of the room where no one was standing. 

“I told you he wouldn’t believe you.” Bishop rolls his eyes and sighs in exhaustion. He turns away and starts making his bed. He looks up at the tattooed man. 

“Whatever, it’s been a long day. I’m going to sleep.” 

The older man has more questions, but he's too nervous to ask anymore. Maybe this kid really did belong in prison. Bishop lays in bed, thinking about where the day went wrong. He guesses that it started this morning when he was outside the pottery shop with Rosa in the rain.  


Monday 3:40 

The wind mixed in with the rain, made it hard to stand still. Bishop and Rosa shiver outside of the pottery shop because they had no key. Rosa checks her watch hoping that Mr. Talban would be coming soon with the keys. 

“I’m leaving.” Rosa said in a breathy way. Bishop turned his head to the tall girl, hardly seeing her with rain misted on his glasses. 

“What? No, we can’t leave he might be here soon. Maybe he woke up late.” He gave her a pleading look and Rosa rolled her eyes. 

“Bishop, it’s been 40 minutes. I don’t care if he docks my pay, I'm leaving. If you want, I can drive you home.”  

Bishop was growing tired of waiting outside too, but he didn’t know how much longer he could keep stalling, and anything would be better than walking home and seeing that “thing” again. Bishop didn’t know what it was but it’s been in his neighborhood watching him since he clocked out Thursday evening. At least if he was in Rosa's car it wouldn’t be so scary. 


Rosa’s car wasn’t very nice, even if it was her first car. She had to open Bishop's door from the inside. Bishop didn’t complain, but he didn’t like that his seatbelt didn’t work. He only lived 5 minutes away, but he thought of every possible scenario where he could die because of him not wearing his seatbelt correctly. Rosa noticed the nervousness etched across Bishop's face. 

“It's ok Bishop, he probably forgot it was Monday again. Think of it as a four-day weekend. What do usually do on your days off?” She waits for his responds but gets none. She looks over and he’s completely turned around in his seat, looking at something they passed. 

“Did you see that?” 

“See what? I didn’t see anything.” 

“I thought I saw Mr. Talban standing on the sidewalk. We just passed him.” Rosa looks in the rearview mirror, but the sidewalks are empty. 

“There’s no one on the sidewalk, Bishop.” 

“But-” 

“It was probably just the rain and wind.” Bishop lets it go, not wanting to argue, but he’s sure that he saw something. Hopefully not the same something he’s been seeing around his house since Thursday night. He’s only ever seen it around his house, but this would be the furthest he’s seen it. Bishop takes a deep breath to calm himself. 

They turn the corner on Bishop's block. Bishop bundles the bottom of his shirt, hoping he doesn’t see that ghostly figure again. At least this time he isn't walking. All weekend long he’s been taking longer routes to get home, trying to avoid the figure that seems to follow him. At the end of the block is Bishop’s house and his leg shakes in anticipation as they get closer. Maybe he won’t see it on the way home today. 

Rosa stops the car in the drive way and turns to Bishop. 

“Alright were here.” She turns to Bishop who hasn’t made any attempt to step out the car yet. The car soon feels awkward as Rosa waits for Bishop to leave. His eyes are glued to what looks like Mr. Talban in front of the car. It looks like Mr. Talban but with a green glow around him. He turns his head slowly to Rosa. 

“Do you see him too?” 

“See who? There’s no one here.” Shes confused by the boy’s sudden weird behavior. 

“Never mind. Thanks Rosa.” He steps out the car and into the rain and Rosa leaves. He keeps his head down, hoping that if he doesn’t look at the figure then it’s not there. But he can see that its head follows him as he walks. As Bishop trails up the walk way, he tries to calmly look behind him to see if the figure is following. His breathe quickens as he sees the figure is floating close behind him. He begins hyperventilating as his hands shakes putting the keys in the door. When he finally gets the door open, he slips in and turns around to close the door in front of the figures face. He keeps his hands on the door, steading himself. He catches his breath knowing that he is safe inside his home. He turns around and there the figure is again, looking like Mr. Talban. Same grey hair, same thick glasses, and the same hunch in his back. Bishop looks him in the eyes and begins to feel faint. 

“Mr. Talban?” The figure’s eyes go wide. 

“Bishop, you can see me?” Bishop thinks he must be going crazy. 

“Yes.” 

Mr. Talban jumps high into the air cheering and softly floats down. Bishop watches him jump in joy while he is on the verge of passing out. 

“Bishop, wake up. I need your help. I'm dead.” Bishop waits a beat trying to absorb the situation. 

“You’re dead?” 

“Yes, and I need you to avenge my death and kill my murderer.” Bishop face turns pale. 

“Kill your murderer!” He yells. “I can’t kill someone. I’m eleven.” Mr. Talban stroked his beard, thinking of a new plan. 

“Ok, maybe that is a bad idea.” 

“How did you even die.” 

“It’s a long story.” 


They move the conversation to the kitchen table. Bishop brings to the table 2 lunchables for them. Bishop takes his seat across from Mr. Talban and opens his snack and starts assembling his crackers, American cheese, and ham. He notices that Mr. Talban hasn’t opened his snack. 

“Sorry.” He reaches over and takes the film off the top. Mr. Talban still doesn’t eat. “Sorry do you prefer turkey and cheddar instead?” 

“I can’t eat this, Bishop. I’m a ghost.” Bishop feels dumb for not realizing this sooner. 

“Sorry. So how did you die.” 

“Thursday night, after closing. I went home. Everything was fine, then while I was sleeping in bed, I heard a crash in my kitchen. So, I went down stairs to check out the scene. When I reached the kitchen, I found my niece rummaging through the drawers making a mess. Then-” 

“Wait” Bishop finishes chewing the cracker in his mouth before he speaks again. “I didn’t know you had any family.” 

“We aren’t very close. She's a jealous thing who wants to run the pottery shop. I told her no and that I was instead training an apprentice to take my place. And then she-” 

“Wait. Who are you training to take your place?” Mr. Talban sighs and runs his hand down his face. 

“You, Bishop.” Bishop gasps and covers his mouth. For a brief second, he thinks about a peaceful life where he runs the pottery shop. But the thought is interrupted. 

“Wait, I can’t run the shop. I’m still in middle school.” 

“Well, I wasn’t planning on dying last week, Bishop. But who’s to say you can’t run the shop, I’m sure you could.” 

“Okay, but what if your niece comes kills me too?” 

“Great question. We have to take her out. Have you ever used a firearm?” Bishop takes a deep breath to prevent from yelling. 

“Mr. Talban, I can’t shoot your niece.” 

“Poison it is then.” 

“No! Why don’t we just give the police a tip that you’ve been murdered?” 

“Rule #1, Bishop. Never tell the police.” 

“Well, we don’t have any other options.” Bishop walks over to his home phone. He picks up the phone and starts dialing the local police station. 

“Misty Springs county police, how may I help you?” 

“Hi, my name is Bishop and I think someone was murdered at 9477 Mountain drive Thursday night.” The lady on the other end of the phone tries to process the information she was just given. She waits a beat before speaking again. 

“And who died?” 

“Roger Talban. Age 66.” 

“Okay and how did he die.” 

“He was murdered by his niece. She broke into his home late at night while he was in bed and made a mess of his kitchen and then-” He stumbles over his words and turns around to Mr. Talban. He drops the phone and hushes his voice. “How did she kill you.” Mr. Talban pulls up his sweater to reveal a ghostly stab wound to his chest. Bishop cringes at the sight. “You could have just told me. I would have believed you.” He turns back around and clears his throat. “He was stabbed in the heart.” 

“And how do you know this?” Bishop wasn’t expecting the question and almost drops the phone. 

“umm.” He tries to think of something fast. “I was there when it happened.” The lady on the phone doesn’t answer right away. 

“okay, and who is this again, I need a name and an address for the statement.” 

“Me? I’m Bishop Fawnhive. I live on 3874 Marrow Road. Thank you, for your cooperation. Have a nice day.” 

“You too.” He hangs up the phone and turns around with a proud look on his face but is met with a look of disapproval. Mr. Talban shakes his head and stares at the ground. 

“That was terrible.” 


Within the next hour, the police arrived to Mr. Talban’s home and the crime scene matched what Bishop said. They figured his statement was actually a confession and came to Bishop's home to arrest him. Later that night they processed him into the prison system. Mr. Talban stayed with him the whole time. 

Late at night Bishop lays in his cot while Mr. Talban floats beside him. 

“This wouldn’t have happened had we shot her.” Bishop throws his pillow at him, which goes straight through his body. 

“Leave me alone.” 

“Where else do you want me to go.” The sound comes from above Bishop. His cell mate looks down at him with a confused look. 

“Not you, him.” he points to the air. His cell mates figures he should play along. 

“Oh him...okay.” He turns back around and hugs his pillow to his chest as a way to ease his worries about his new cellmate. Bishop grunts in anger because he knows that no one will ever believe him. 

“How come no one can see you but me!” Bishop is startled by the volume of his voice. 

“Calm down, Bishop. You look like you’re talking to yourself.” 

“No, why haven’t you gone to heaven or something.” 

“Because I have unfinished business here.” 

“What does that have to do with me though.” 

“My last task is to make sure you take over the pottery shop.” Bishop wasn’t expecting such a heartwarming response. He was still mad at Mr. Talban though. 

“Well, I can't do that in prison.” just as Bishop says that the cell door swings open. It's a guard. 

“You’re going home kid. The real murder confessed to everything once we told her we put an eleven-year-old boy in prison. Looks like you didn’t kill him after all.” 

“Thank God. That kid’s crazy.” The guard looks up to see the cellmate wrapped in his blanket shivering. 


The police offer to take Bishop home. Before he can get inside his home, the cop stops him.  

“Wait this is for you.” The cop hands Bishop the deed to the pottery shop. “He left your name in his will, so I guess this belongs to you.” Bishop stands there in awe as the cop pulls away. 

“Well, I guess this is where we say our goodbyes.” Mr. Talban looks at Bishop with an empty expression. He looks down and his grim face melts as he sees Bishop smiling at him. 

“Thank you, Mr. Talban. I'll take good care of the shop for you.” Mr. Talban smiles and fades away. 

July 17, 2021 03:55

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1 comment

Travon Taylor
05:58 Jul 18, 2021

Great story. Kinda spooky and kept me reading.

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