Amends

"Amends"

         Sonny took a large bite out of his five napkin burger, wiping off a slim dribble of fat as it rolled down his chin. A burst of New York autumn air sent a shiver down his back, but Sonny didn't care. Eddie's served the best burgers in town as far as he was concerned, and a little chill was going to be hard pressed to deprive him of his guilty pleasure. He took another bite, careful to savor the slightly seared meat.

         That fat'll kill ya, you know.

         Sonny ignored the voice in his head, trying to eat in peace for once. A retired couple sat at a table nearby, enjoying a mid-afternoon coffee. Another man occupied a table about ten feet in front of him, looking over a newspaper. A stock-broker by the look of his suit. Sonny kept on eating, trying hard not to draw any attention to himself, though no one else could hear the voice.

         I hear heart attacks are a very painful way to go. Not as slow as drowning, but-

         "Oh what do you know about it!" Sonny hissed under his breath. A grim silence followed, and he felt a sudden surge of guilt. He had been able to hear his uncle's ghost for a little over two weeks now, but hadn't snapped at him until now. The constant life-coaching was starting to get on his nerves, however.

         Just trying to look out for your well-being. And for all you know, I might know exactly how it feels to die of a heart attack. That is, of course, if I could remember how I died... Sonny sensed sadness in his voice. Coming back as a ghost, it seemed, had its drawbacks.

         Sonny took a quick sip of his soda. "Ah, I'm sure your body will turn up soon. It's been about what, two weeks?" he reassured quietly, glancing at the elderly couple to make sure they didn't overhear him talking to himself. They were watching a cyclist speed past the burger joint.

         At least two weeks. I don't suppose I should look forward to an open casket. Who knows, maybe I'm still alive, just like in that movie with the cute blond chick. Who the hell said the comatose don't get around?

         "Doubt it. You wouldn't survive two weeks in a coma anyways, at least not outside a hospital."

         Well aren't you a buzz kill. You take after your mom, that's for damn sure. Anyways, back to that burger...

         "Would you stop it with the lecturing!" Sonny retorted, plopping his burger back onto his plate. The couple next to him looked at him curiously. Even the stock-broker took a peep over his paper. Sonny felt his cheeks burning.

         Makin' all kinds of friends, aren't you?

         "Oh just shut it already. I've risked my neck every day coming downtown for you. 'Least you can do is let me eat in peace."

         Oh, trust me, I'm very thankful for your help. There's something about this area that keeps tugging at the back of my mind. It just feels like time's running out... Sonny could almost hear his uncle thinking. I guess you're right though, I do owe you a moment's peace. It's not like the dead have any cares...

         Sonny ignored his uncle's melodramatic tone. He had never actually known the guy when he was alive. His mother had always clammed up when he was mentioned, only ever saying that her brother was a criminal. Sonny had tried to get some information out of his uncle, but his amnesia covered more than just his death. How bad could the guy have been, though, if he had come back as a ghost?

         Eagerly grabbing his burger, Sonny bit joyfully into it, surprised his uncle had given in. The rot must've remembered what it was like to enjoy a burger. He wasn't so bad once you got past the-

         THE FAT IN THE BURGER WILL CHOKE YOUR HEART, CHOKE YOUR HEART, CHOKE YOUR HEART. THE FAT IN-

         Sonny slammed his burger onto the table and left the joint, cursing his luck.

* * *

         Damn you're a moody one. Seems like you can use a vacation. Say, when was the last time you took one?

         Sonny continued walking down the street, his temper flaring. "I'm using up my vacation time as we speak, believe it or not! All to help you! So please, give a man a break!"

         He had gone off in public a few minutes before when his uncle had begun singing out of sheer boredom. A cop had stopped to question his outburst, which had surprised a good half a city block. Sonny had only gotten away after claiming he had Tourrette's syndrome, which actually worked considering he was cursing at his uncle throughout the entire affair.

         Ya, well this isn't exactly my idea of a good time either. You have no idea how boring being an incorporeal spirit is. You can watch people in ways you never could breathing, but you can't do anything. And all these holes in my memory are really-wait, this seems familiar. Turn right.

         Sonny turned right down a smaller street, more out of respect for the dead than for his uncle. The street was narrow, two lanes, and was full of debris and litter. He could hear a fight break out in one of the gritty apartment buildings lining the road, and watched as belongings were thrown out of a third-story window, crashing into the gutter below. Definitely not Sonny's type of neighborhood.

         Well that chick seems pretty psycho. Wouldn't be surprised if her boyfriend ends the night hangin' with the likes of me.

         A small booth was setup halfway down the street, its owner attempting to sell newspapers and used cellphones, probably contraband.

         "Sir, good sir, how would you like a brand new Razor? I'll be willing to part with it for twenty dollars," the hawker advertised, holding out a scratched-up phone. Sonny was about to pass the shop, but a few cellphone accessories caught his eye.

         "I'll take that earpiece off your hand," Sonny said, taking out his wallet. He gave the hawker a twenty, who momentarily forgot to give him change. Dirty scammer. Sonny looked through the news rack while the hawker rang up his purchase. A picture of a missing girl dominated the headlines, apparently the daughter of some politician. More news on the Iraq war. Gossip on some failing celebrity. Sonny often wondered why people still bought the newspaper when it was so much easier to look up news on the Internet. Then again, people in this neighborhood weren't likely to own computers. And if they did, they wouldn't have them long, not with the burglary rates in this area. The hawker handed him his earpiece, which also seemed used. Not that it mattered.

         I doubt that's going to work. There's a wire stickin' out of the side.

         Laughing, Sonny clipped on the accessory. "Do you actually think I'd shop here? It's so I don't look crazy when I'm chatting with you."

         I always said never care what people think.

         "Apparently," Sonny muttered, thinking of his mother. He hugged his coat closer to him as he continued down the street.

         Well aren't you a lil' smart-ass. Pretty ungrateful too. Did you know I offered to pay your college tuition? Your mother wouldn't accept it though. I guess you can thank her for all of them student loans, eh?

         Sonny stiffened at the new information. He had been accepted to Stanford school of law years ago, but had to stick with New York State because he couldn't afford it. Now he was stuck as a tax-attorney. A thought struck him, however.

         "Are you sure it was your money?" Sonny asked grimly. His patience was hitting the breaking point.

         The ghost seemed affronted. How could you insinuate something like that? I made on honest living I'll have you kno-

         "Cut the crap, Thom Goodrich," Sonny spat his uncle's name as though it tasted of venom. His mother used the same tone whenever she spoke of her brother. It told of abandon. "My mother said you were a criminal, and that's how she found out."

         A moment of silence. It was all Sonny needed to hear.

         I-I might have done a few...jobs on the side. Resignation dominated the ghost's voice. I never did anything that would've hurt anyone, I swear. Violence isn't me.

         "But robbery is," Sonny completed, his temper swelling.

         Please, you need to understand. I needed the money to pay off a few...uhm...debts.

         "Yah, I understand. I understand that you're not quite the guy I thought you were," Sonny said, shaking in anger where he stood. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself down. Everything became clearer. "I'm going home."

         What? But we're not done here! Hell, it's only one-forty.

         Sony sighed. "No, I'm going home for good. I've wasted enough time on your paranoia, so if you need to do anything, do it on your own."

         But, it doesn't work like that. I can't do this on my own. Sure, I might have done a few things most would consider unsavory, but it doesn't mean I'm a bad guy.

         "It means exactly that!" Sonny roared, not caring who overheard. "You say you're not a violent person, but it doesn't take physical blows to hurt someone. Just look at this goddamn neighborhood!" He waved his arms frantically at the apartment buildings. Bars secured all the windows, even on the upper stories. "People like you instill fear."

         The ghost remained silent, but Sonny was far from feeling satisfied. He continued to walk down the street, intent on catching a bus at the end of the block.

         I take it your not saying that 'cuz I'm a ghost. Sonny ignored him. I need to cross-over. And I need someone to help me. The ghost's voice sounded oddly emotional. Then again, I'll probably be stuck in your head until you decide to change your mind.

         Sonny had been waiting for him to point out that flaw. "You said it yourself, time's running out. It's only a matter of time until you leave me, fade out, whatever you do." He could almost taste his uncle's despair at those words. It was then he realized he wasn't angry anymore. He was just tired of it all. And frustrated.

         The bus was waiting at the stop. The driver glared at him dully as he flashed him his daily bus pass, Sonny forced to stand in the overcrowded vehicle. He hated public transportation. The bus driver started to close the door, but a man managed to shoot his arm between the pneumatic doors. The driver opened the door with a sigh.

         "The bus is full, sir," he said dully.

         "Then make room," the man's voice was cold, laced with a threat. The bus driver must've heard it as well, as he sullenly waved the newcomer onto the bus. He was tall and thick with muscles, yet his face was unusually grim, and more than one person struggled to move aside for him, and not because of his size, though Sonny imagined it helped.

         The bus kicked off again, jerking every time it shifted gears. Sonny watched the man curiously from the back of the bus. He held a folded newspaper in his right hand, but Sonny doubted he was the reading type. Something wasn't right. He could sense his uncle grow restless.

         "What is it?" Sonny intoned, forgetting their previous fight.

         I don't know. I just feel...wary.

         The stranger turned his head, as though sensing Sonny's eyes on his back. As soon as he met Sonny's gaze, a bolt of ice shot down through Sonny's back, nearly causing his knees to buckle. He grabbed at the pole, staring down at the ground in shock. It was his uncle's fear he felt.

         THOSE EYES! I KNOW THOSE EYES!

         "What?!" Sonny gasped, bewildered from his sudden tremor.

         THOSE EYES WERE THE LAST THING I EVER SAW!

         Sonny glanced back at the stranger. He had his head turned away from him again, and apparently had not noticed his weak spell.

         "Are you saying he had a part in your death?" Sonny asked, astounded. He hadn't expected to come across a breakthrough like this. Not to mention the effect of his uncle's emotions greatly disturbed him.

         I'm sure of it. The ghost paused for a second. You need to follow him.

         Sonny shook his head. "Are you kidding me? If that guy managed to kill you, then how the hell am I supposed to stop him?"

         As much as I worry for you, nephew, I can't help but feel that someone else's life is on the line. We need to do something.

         The bus slowed to a halt outside a run-down business district, the pneumatic doors opening with a hiss. Sonny watched his uncle's suspected killer amble off the bus and take a left down the sidewalk. Grinding his teeth in frustration, Sonny made his decision and followed.

         The street was crowded with people, but the stranger's tall form was too tall to be lost. Sonny followed carefully, making sure to look away whenever his mark turned his head. The guy sure seemed to be cautious, but why was beyond Sonny.

         The stranger went on for nearly three city blocks before turning down a narrow alleyway bordering a bagel shop. Sonny casually leaned against the wall, giving a quick ten-count before peering around the corner. The alleyway was cursed with shadow, the ground damp with waste water. He barely caught site of the man duck through a door at the far end. Counting to ten again, Sonny proceeded down the alley, coming to a stop next to the door. His heart was beating furiously.

         Hey, at least you got the element of surprise. You'll be fine. Sonny didn't find his uncle too comforting.

         "Easy for you to say. Of course, I can't get in if the door turns out to be locked," he said, almost hopefully.

         The door gave way easily upon trying the handle, however, opening into a dark interior. Taking a deep breath, Sonny slipped through, closing the door carefully behind him

         The building seemed to be one large room, probably some kind of warehouse. Although too dark to make out much, Sonny could sense a collection of large objects around him, which looked to be shipping containers. Large stacks of crates were also scattered around them. Searching around an open crate, he managed to find a hefty crowbar, rust lining its length. Tightening his grip on it, he walked between the rows of the containers, careful to avoid making any noise. Even his breathing was shallow, despite his fear.

         A slight light was visible at the far end of the warehouse, past the last of the containers. Sonny held his breath as he approached the light, keeping to the shadows. A pair of voices could be heard.

         "I doubt they're involved."

         "It's right here in the goddamn newspaper." Sonny recognized the voice from the bus. "Right here. It says 'the senator refused to give more details on his daughter's disappearance, though detectives believe that a kidnapping may have been possible'. They went to the cops!"

         "I don't know," said the second voice. "It sounds like they got involved on their own. Look, they never said it was a kidnapping. For all they know, she's just missing."

         Sonny sneaked closer to the voices, stopping behind a large shipping crate. He saw his target next to a small table, the newspaper clenched in his fist. A second man sat on a grungy couch against the wall, a half eaten bagel on the seat next to him. The first man leaned forward on the table, looking straight at his partner, laying thick emphasis on his words.

         "I don't really care. The police are involved. We told him to make sure that didn't happen. He failed. Now I say we go forward with plan B, and send him a little reminder of our agreement. The girl doesn't need both her ears, does she?"

         At that his partner jumped from the couch, anger etching his face. "You can't be serious! This was an accident, damn it!"

         The first man stood erect, almost a good hand taller than the other. "The only way for them not to call our bluffs is if we don't bluff! You know, your starting to sound a lot like Goodrich."

         Sonny stiffened. The man did kill his uncle. And his uncle had been an accomplice, dieing over a change of heart. The ghost remained silent, however.

         The second man stiffened, his features grim. "I'll go check on the girl." He turned abruptly and walked down toward a row of containers.

         Quick, go! He has the keys to get her out. Sonny could hear a sharp tone in his uncle's voice.

         "I'm...sorry. I didn't realize you tried to-"

         That doesn't matter now. Just go. We can still save her yet.

         Sonny nodded to himself and followed down a different row. Inching around a corner, he could see the second man unlocking a large shipping container with a pair of keys. His heart pounding, Sonny snuck up behind him and hit him hard in the back with the crowbar. The kidnapper fell to the ground in a heap. Not checking whether the man was still alive, Sonny grabbed his keys and unlocked the container, pushing it ajar. Looking inside, he saw a young girl backed up in a corner of the container hugging her knees. She looked at him in fear.

         "Don't worry," Sonny said soothingly. "I'm here to help you. Come on. We need to go, quickly." For a moment he was afraid she'd refuse to move, but after wiping away a few tears, she tottered over to him, embracing him tightly, her tear-plagued face buried in his side. Sonny was tempted to calm her, but a commotion broke out at the other end of the warehouse.

         "Dammit Landon, what's taking you so long!" Sonny could hear the killer walking toward his position.

         Taking the girl by the shoulders, he spoke carefully. "Okay, you need to go hide for now. I'll get you in a little bit, after I deal with the bad guy. Do you understand?" The girl nodded her head, and, without so much as a sniffle, ran off into the labyrinth of crates.

         Sonny backed up into the shadows as his uncle's killer neared the crate, keeping a fir grip on his crowbar.

         "Landon, what the hell-WHAT THE-"

         Sonny swung hard, hitting the kidnapper's leg. A cry of pain rang out, but Sonny stumbled backwards as a massive arm backhanded him across the face. Dazed, he turned in time to see his uncle's killer pull a gun out of his pocket. Reacting quickly, he dropped the crowbar and dove into the big man, forcing both of them to the ground. He could hear the gun skid somewhere into the darkness, but struggled to get away as the killer began bashing his fists into him. Pinned to the ground, Sonny was helpless, unable to get away from the blows. After what seemed like an eternity, his opponent pulled himself off of him, scrambling for something. Not that Sonny could've moved anyways. His chest burned of broken ribs

         Struggling to keep conscious, Sonny was mildly surprised to see a gun pointed down at him, ready to end it all.

         "You idiot," the killer spat, blood trickling down his nose. He also kept a hand on his busted leg. "Did you really think you could take me on? Big damn mistake if you ask me."

         A shot was fired into Sonny's shoulder, setting it ablaze. He screamed with what little breath he had, the pain in his chest only growing worse.

         "I'll show you what it means to-" The killer cut off in surprise, dropping his gun and grabbing at his throat. Sonny felt shock through his pain as well.

         We'll see who made the mistake. His uncle's voice was no longer in his head, but projected around the boxes like the rustling of leaves

         The killer must have heard it too, as his eyes went wide. He suddenly flew back with unnatural speed, crashing into the shipping container behind him with enough force to move it back several feet. The body stayed encased in the container's side, a gruesome look of horror locked rigid on the dead man's face. Sonny was passed caring, however.

         Leaning against the side of a crate, Sonny let the void take him.

* * *

         He came in and out of consciousness, aware only of bright white light. The light was all he could remember. Beautiful; shining. Sonny began to wonder if there had ever been anything before the light.

         Opening his eyes, he realized he was staring at the white ceiling of a hospital, indeed brighter than he'd like, considering his head felt like a split melon. Trying to sit up, he flinched as pain erupted in his chest and shoulder. It didn't matter though. He was alive.

         Looking around, he saw a tray of uneaten food by his side flanked by dozens of sunflowers. More flowers littered a sofa by the window, giving the room a sickly-sweet smell. And in the corner stood a man.

         Sonny knew who the man was, even though he'd never met him. Well, in person at least.

         "A bit odd being able to see you," Sonny confessed, smiling at the figure. He had an amiable face, and even livelier eyes. The figure gave off a slight aura, the only sign of anything unnatural.

         "Well, the big guy decided to bless me with an avatar, considering what I did." Thom turned his gaze toward the flowers, giving a slight smile. "Katelyn picked those out herself mind you. Very resourceful kid. You probably owe her your life about as much as she owes you hers."

         Sonny nodded. "Well it's good to see you finally crossed over."

         Thom continued smilingly, and walked over to the bed. "Nope, never did. Though I did manage to score a sort of promotion. I've been appointed Katelyn's overly glorified babysitter. A change of heart may have gotten me a second chance at salvation, but I've still got quite a bit to prove."

         Sonny chuckled. "From convict to ghost to guardian angel. Well good luck on that."

         Thom laughed. "It's been one heck of a rehabilitation program, I'll give you that. Well, I've got work to do so I'll check on you later." He walked to the door, but stopped, his face thoughtful. "Oh, I should probably tell you I managed to tinker with your medical records a bit. Apparently you have Gout syndrome now, so I wouldn't be expecting any beef while your here."

         "WHAT!"

         Thom gave a wicked grin and disappeared.