Free Apparition by Gail Gallant Page B

drink, and I saw him leave the house after he got home from the party. I was worried about him, so I followed him.” I’m struggling to get the words out. It’s hard to breathe, there’s so much pain in my chest. “I followed him here. He was horsing around up in the rafters when I found him. He was … horsing around.” I hear myself lying. I’m not sure why, but I don’t feel I can tell the truth right now. I remember the rope—that will give it all away—but when I look around, I realize that it isn’t here anymore. It’s disappeared. I didn’t move it. Jack certainly didn’t move it. I
know
I didn’t dream it. I saw it fall—it hit me hard on the shoulder—but now it’s gone.
    “He just had too much to drink. I was telling him to get down when he slipped.”
    My heart pounds in my ears as I hear myself desperately trying to make what happened sound less scary. They wouldn’t believe me if I told them the truth. The sirens get steadily louder until they’re right on us. Then they cut out, car doors open and shut, and paramedics and two policemen appear at the entrance and run towardus. We scramble to our feet and back away to reveal Jack. Someone takes his pulse in his neck, shining light in his eyes and gently checking him over. Someone else runs back to the ambulance for a stretcher. One of the policemen has his notepad out and begins asking questions. Any witnesses? Who was here?
    “Just me. I … I saw him fall.”
    “I’ll need you to stick around for a statement, okay?”
    I nod. I think I’m in shock.
    Joyce is talking to the other officer. “Jack—Jackson Mackenzie. Seventeen years old. I’m his grandmother. His legal guardian. Joyce Stewart. These two are his brother and sister. We live a half mile down the road. Just moved in last week.” The officer is listening, nodding.
    We watch as the paramedics gently work on Jack, putting a brace around his neck, carefully straightening him out, rolling him onto a stretcher. I can’t see any blood. Maybe he’s okay. But when they move him, he doesn’t wake up.
Open your eyes, Jack. Say something. Do something
.
    Then they are gone, taking Jack with them, Joyce and Ethan following them out the barn door. The policeman asks me to stay behind. He says he’ll drop me off at the hospital if I’d like. I’m left standing over the place where Jack fell while the policeman makes a phone call.
    “Yeah, an accident in the Telford barn, on 12th. Jack Mackenzie. Looks like he fell. Yeah, they just left. The Mackenzie girl, the sister. Yeah, thought you might be interested.”
    The policeman finishes his call and says, mostly to himself, “This barn’s seen a lot of action lately.” Then he asks me to start from the beginning so he can take notes. I tell him how Jack arrived home from Halloween partying, then I realize I’ve got to mention that he and his friends were here earlier in the evening. He’ll hear it sooner or later.The officer looks around with his flashlight and catches something in one of the half-open stalls. Beer cans. A twelve-pack and empty beer cans, some in the box, some lying nearby. “Go on,” he says.
    I tell him what I told Joyce. The policeman looks up, flashlight in the rafters, the light moving slowly along the big timbers. I look around too as I speak, trying to control myself, trying to calm down. I feel so afraid.
Jack will be okay. He’s okay
. The policeman scribbles something down, then looks up at me, waiting for me to continue.
    “He was up there, kind of talking to himself—nothing I could make out. Gibberish, you know? Then he stood up and … and I was begging him to come down. I … I was terrified he was going to fall. I kept asking him to come down, but he ignored me.” I start to cry again.
    “Is that when he slipped?”
    I nod and cover my face with my hands. He puts a hand on my shoulder.
    “That’s fine for now, that’s enough. I’ll take you home. Or to the hospital. Whichever you