The Ghost with a Gun

The ghost put a gun against Jake’s forehead. He could feel the metal.

“I am going to kill you,” the ghost said. The voice was male, objective. The ghost was a white blob that shimmered.

“Is that a real gun or a ghost gun?” Jake said. He still sat on his apartment’s sofa. The ghost had appeared a few minutes before. ‘He’ had no reason to be there. Nothing had led to the ghost appearing.

“We’ll find out, won’t we? Ghost bullets or real bullets. Ghost death or real death,” the ghost said. “I was bored. You are going to hell so I thought you would be a good corpse.”

“I’m not going to hell,” Jake said. He almost laughed at this apparition. “I am going to heaven. You, I suspect, are already in hell.”

“Duh. How’d you guess?” the ghost said.

Jake swiped at the gun. His hand passed through it. He swiped at the ghost. His hand swiped through that too.

“O.K. spook. I am tired of this crap. Go away. Back to the flames,” Jake said. He laughed.

The ghost was pissed. He aimed the gun at Jake and pulled the trigger. BANG! A loud noise, but Jake didn’t feel a thing.

“Now, you’ve had your fun. Go away,” Jake said. He actually picked up the TV remote, ready to resume cable surfing.

“That’s where I’ve got you,” the ghost said. “I don’t have to go away. Or I can go away and come back. Again and again. From now on your life will be a misery. I promise. I was bored. You are my hobby. Adios, fool.”

The ghost and the gun disappeared.

Now Jake felt scared. Really scared. He didn’t know what to do. Pray? Would that do any good? Tell the priest? He hadn’t been to church in twenty years. He sat drinking his coffee. He started crying, and he hadn’t cried since he was a little kid. He felt hopeless.

The ghost reappeared, the same white blob. “Next time think I’ll try nuclear. That would be a hoot.”

David Flynn was born in 1948 in the textile mill company town of Bemis, TN. His jobs have included newspaper reporter, magazine editor and university teacher. He has five degrees and is both a Fulbright Senior Scholar and a Fulbright Senior Specialist. His literary publications total more than two hundred and sixty. Among the eight writing residencies he has been awarded are five at the Wurlitzer Foundation in Taos, NM, and stays in Ireland and Israel. He spent a year in Japan as a member of the Japan Exchange and Teaching program. For three years he was president of the Music City Blues Society. He is married and has one daughter, one granddaughter and one grandson.

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