Page 27 of The House on Haven Way

“You’re ... Oh, you’re both...” I can’t make words. I point. I stare. I stammer.

“I have an oil change. You handle this,” the gray one says with a sigh and leaves.

“Hi, yes. We’re your friendly local auto techs, and I’m Manny, owner and operator of Manny’s Auto—”

“Manny?” I blurt. Yes, I’m a ten on the rudeness scale, but I can’t help it. “Are you the real Manny? The one who owned this shop back in the 1950s?”

Manny blinks, bends lower, and nods. “Well, yes. But that’s not common knowledge, miss—”

“Amber. I’m Amber Pierce, and I just bought Johnny Miller’s house on Haven Way,” I gasp out, so excited I can’t take deep breaths.

“Johnny Miller! Gee whiz, that’s a blast from the past. What a guy. He only worked here three months, but that kid knew his way around a carburetor.” Manny’s face is wreathed in a wistful smile. “Are you a niece? I heard his family used to use it as a summer place.”

“No, no. I’m not a relative. They put it on the market.”

Manny sticks his hand out. “Well, pleased to meet ya! Manny Finklestein, here for all of your automotive needs. The way you pulled in, miss, I think you might need your brakes checked,” he says gently.

I shake his hand, which engulfs mine completely. “Um, thanks. I’ll think about that.” I drop my voice. “Honestly, I just stopped short because I saw you. Other than Johnny, I haven’t seen any other supernatural beings. People. Um, is there a term you—”

“Johnny Miller! Johnny’s alive? Well—here? How? Vampire? Ghost?” Manny practically tips my car over, leaning down and gripping the small sedan’s door where I’ve rolled my window down.

“Ghost,” I squeak.

“How about that! And I never even know. Oh, jeez, this is great. Gosh, can I stop by sometime and say hi?”

“Yes! Yes, please do. Stop on by whenever you want. He would love to see you. I get the impression he can’t leave.”

“Well, no, ghosts typically can’t, not without a spirit bottle, but even so, I’m just flabbergasted. All these years, and I never even knew. I just feel like a heel.”

“Spirit bottle?” I murmur. “So, he could go places with one of those?”

“Sure could. They’re rare and precious, and expensive, but Johnny’s Pine Ridge family. I’m sure Madge and Mr. Minegold would whip up something for him.”

“Who?”

A horn blips politely behind me, and Manny stands up. “Two locals who are good with the old benevolent magic. If Johnny’s the guy I remember, he sure qualifies as a kind soul.”

“He is.” I smile, thinking of the way he seamlessly started caring for me once he knew I was a friend.

“Pull into a spot here, and we’ll chat.”

I follow Manny’s lead, even though I know I have to hurry—and I never did get any gas. “Can I just ask you one question, Manny?” I ask, pulling up behind an open bay in the auto shop.

“Of course, dear!” He grins, a wide smile in a comically square jaw beaming down on me. “About Johnny?”

“Do you know how he died? Or where I could see his autopsy? Not because I’m nosy!” I clarify when Manny looks alarmed. “For Johnny. He wants to cross over, but he’s plagued by questions.”

“Gosh, now that’s a long, long time ago. But, being as he was my employee, I was the one who came to check on him when he didn’t show up for work. It was a Friday, payday, and he was a young fellow with a new mortgage and a girl that he was serious about. He wouldn’t skip payday. And he had a phone—some people didn’t back in the fifties, which I know shocks all of you young folks,” he gives me an indulgent smile. “He wasn’t answering, so I went out there and found him.”

I switch off my car.

PT can wait.

“You found him?”

“Mmmhm. I went over after work. I remember thinking if I had only checked on him earlier, but we were slammed and short-handed without him there. When I found him... He wasn’t pretty. I’m sorry I didn’t see his ghost at the time. I could have... I could have helped him, maybe, but I know from some of the other ghosts in town that the first few weeks, or even years, can be disorienting and confusing.

Other ghosts in town? Yeah, saving that tidbit up for later.