I started setting up some of the experiments. Starting with placing jars of vinegar around the nave. I went to place a jar by the confessional booth. As I approached the priest door of the confessional booth I started to get a chill down my spine. It was hard to even approach the door. But I needed to approach for the science. Maybe I will have Pat place the the baking soda. But he will likely throw a hissy. I placed one under the chandelier near the confessional. I placed one next to the altar. I was given strick instructions to not place one on the altar. I try to respect their beliefs.
Steve arrived and started to place cameras around the nave. Supposedly we will be able to gain our required evidence strictly from the nave and the outside of the church. So I headed outside in the street to place a jar. I also placed a barometer on the other side of the street where there was no cloud cover. I also took this opportunity to calibrate both of the barometers with information provided by the weather channel website. The pressure on the other side of the street was high. I tried to walk around where the clouds had gathered and saw no change in the barometer. I placed it where we could watch it closely in my locked rental car. I then walked towards the church and placed a barometer on the top step and looked at the value. I was unsurprised to find the value as low. The vinegar remained calm. I then started to place the baking soda in areas near but not next to the vinegar.
“I’m all set. How’s it going with you guys?” I asked Steve.
Steve typed on a computer looking up only for a moment. “Well, I have several cameras left to link with the computer but the cameras are pointed where we should have them. Pat has taken to hiding in the camper… what a fucking wimp!” I looked around and saw the sweet nun sitting in one of the pews.
“Steve, please keep the language pg… we are guests here” I said staring and nodding in her direction.
“Steve, the link is connected here in the van. Everything is clear as a bell.” Pat squealed through the radio.
“I’ll go check on Pat.” I said headed towards the RV. The RV was packed with equipment still. We wouldn’t be able to use all of it because we were only able to view three areas and we didn’t want to leave expensive equipment in the street. In lockers mounted to the wall was jumpsuits and camera mounted vests and hats. I felt like we should have looked into hard hats for this job but it’s too late. We had a very limited window and I wasn’t going to miss my opportunity to explore this phenomenal chance at proving the existence of the ethereal.
“How are you feeling Pat?” I asked with genuine empathy.
“I’m ok. Just needed to sit down and have some water. I don’t think we should be here though.” Pat said a bit more calm then when he was in the church.
“Look man, I know you have a bad feeling. Hell, I have a bad feeling. This is not like any other job we have ever done. But that’s probably the best thing for us. It provides us the opportunity to prove the existence of the spirit realm and even possibly spectral entities.” I said with excitement.
Pat sat up and looked me deadpan in the face. His eyes quivering with pure unadulterated terror. “I have wanted to prove that to you since the beginning however… I can’t shake the feeling that one of us will not make it out of here alive.” Pat was really starting to freak me out but he stood up and grabbed my shoulders. “This is the first time ever that I have felt something at a location we have visited.” His voice began to tremble, “This isn’t like any spirit I’ve felt in my youth. The last time I felt this was in Afghanistan. Just before…”
“This is nothing like Captain Miller…” I broke eye contact. How could Pat bring up Captain Miller. This was a man who was broken off from our squad by enemy fire and captured by the enemy. When we arrived at the his location we heard his screams as a dull and rusty serrated knife slit his throat with several attempts. The screams slowly became gargled and bloody as his dying body fell to the floor.
A single tear rolled down my face as I thought about Captain Miller. I was more surprised that Pat made a connection between then and now. We were searching for the existence of ghosts now. And back then we were entering a terrorists hideout to rescue a great man. I glanced down at my watch. 17:38. Damn it all to fucking hell, John was supposed to be here about thirty minutes ago. John decided to fly in and catch up with us today. He had a court hearing for the custody of his kids yesterday. He had already checked into the flight and told me that they had landed two hours ago.
Suddenly a knock came from the door of the RV. John burst in with his hand holding a giant duffle. “What’s up you fucking morons?” John said glancing around the Rv. “Jesus fucking Christ! Who the fuck died?!”
Pat and I rubbed the tears from our eyes. “It’s nothing I said. Just a bit of dust in here.”
“Whatever fuckers.” John said throwing his duffle on the drivers seat. “You guys are probably crying about syncing your Menzies.”
“That’s demeaning to women.” I began to say when Pat spoke up.
“I was just saying that the feeling in this church is the same as when we were…” Pat said looking at John.
“FUCK OFF PAT. Captain is off limits and you FUCKING KNOW IT! You god damned PRICK!” John jumped towards Pat and I had to restrain him.
“Just drop it both of you. We have a job to do and we will do it professionally. We will combatives this out AFTER we finish with the church. In the meantime, John we have been respectfully requested to keep our language pg for the duration of our time here at the church. Please keep it that way.” I said to John.
“Fine, Professional. But don’t bring him up again while we are here.” John said.
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