![\"Paying](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/10\/A-Story.jpg?resize=640%2C361\")
<\/h1>\n<\/h1>\nby Paul Weidknecht<\/p>\n
The East River\u2019s dark surface rippled in blurry color from the reflections of the anonymous apartment towers and the light-crowned Chrysler Building straight ahead, its spire bright under the chilly spring night. Though no tourist, Pasquale thought Midtown looked just fine. What wasn\u2019t fine was standing on this pier waiting for Johnny, late as usual, panicking about something he wouldn\u2019t discuss over the phone. But Johnny was right about not talking on the phone; friends of theirs were doing decades for that sin.<\/p>\n
Pasquale heard footsteps down the pier and saw Johnny\u2019s thin form moving briskly toward him, hands buried in his front jeans pockets, shoulders up around his ears in mystery. His tough guy strut was exaggerated, almost fierce; a sure cover for his anxiety.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhatcha got?\u201d Pasquale asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cA problem. On the new construction site. Remember how we set up a no-show job there a while back?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah. What about it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe guy is showing up to work.\u201d<\/p>\n
A flicker of confusion passed through Pasquale. \u201cHuh?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe is on-site for his midnight shift.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot possible, Johnny. You know that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course. I forget, was it Pelham Bay or the Meadowlands?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe dumped him over in Jersey.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m telling you, Pas, workers are seeing him wandering around the main building, wearing a hardhat and work belt, and then he\u2019ll just disappear through a wall. The foreman\u2019s complaining he\u2019s starting to get call-offs on midnights.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cKinda gives new meaning to the phrase \u2018ghost worker.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTell me about it. There\u2019s more. I went there the other night, you know, to check out the place. Afterwards, while I\u2019m sittin\u2019 in my car ready to leave, I look into the rearview and he\u2019s in the backseat,\u201d Johnny said.<\/p>\n
Pas knew Johnny was a street guy, certainly no fool, and he wasn\u2019t a junkie or fall-down drunk, so this story didn\u2019t materialize out of some meth-clouded hallucination or Saturday night bender.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid he have piano wire in his hands?\u201d Pas asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, but a length of insulated copper #10 will do the same.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWas it an electrician\u2019s job we set up?\u201d<\/p>\n
Johnny nodded solemnly.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat happened then?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe just faded away. I think he was trying to scare me. And guess what? It worked.\u201d<\/p>\n
Again Pas looked over at Manhattan. If every lighted window represented a person, or sort of, then that was a whole lot of people. He couldn\u2019t imagine that any of them were thinking of how to get rid of a potentially profit-wrecking, revenge-seeking ghost. But this was New York, and anything was possible.<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay,\u201d said Pasquale. \u201cI\u2019ll speak to someone tomorrow about changing that no-show from electrical to something clerical. Maybe this will keep him on day shift. No ghost is gonna make a move on anybody with a paperclip.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd if that doesn\u2019t work?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI got a nephew who\u2019s a priest. We can all take a daytrip to Jersey.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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