A Visit From the Past
By Amy Denton
A cop is never off duty. It doesn’t matter how long he’s been a cop, where he’s worked, or what his job title is, he is never off duty, even when the calendar says he is. This thought was brought home to Rob Miller, leader of the Ozark Rangers, when he walked into the middle of a hold-up while trying to pay for gas.
His training said to pull his weapon and yell ‘Police! Freeze!’. But could he do that before the robber shot him? He’d been shot before; it was an experience he didn’t want to repeat. He held his hands up and froze in place. The robber, more interested in the money in the cash register, kept his eyes on the clerk but kept the gun aimed at Rob.
“You can go faster than that!” the robber snarled.
“You wanna come back here and do it yourself?” the clerk snapped.
Please, just do what the thug says, Rob thought. He needed a way to end the situation with as little bloodshed as possible. All he needed was enough of a distraction to pull his weapon. He inched toward the robber.
The robber looked at Rob. “You stupid? You want to die?” His finger tensed the trigger.
The door opening behind Rob distracted the robber just long enough for Rob to knock the gun away and pull his own weapon. “Freeze! Police! On the ground!” He glanced at the clerk. “Dial 911.”
“On it.”
“Hands on your head,” Rob said, kicking the gun away. The robber glared at him but complied, lying flat on the floor. Rob looked around for something to tie the robber’s hands with.
“Use this.” The clerk pushed a piece of rope through the opening.
“I got it.” The young man who had provided Rob the distraction, grabbed the rope and tied the robber’s hands behind him. In the distance, sirens could be heard coming closer.
“Thanks.” Rob said.
“You’re welcome. My name’s Jack. Happy to help.”
There was something familiar about Jack, but Rob couldn’t put his finger on it. He wasn’t given much time to think on it, though. Three Belle Meade police cars came screaming into the parking lot, and things got very busy, very quickly. When Rob looked for Jack, he was gone. He asked the clerk if he’d seen the young man leave but received a no in response. The police hadn’t seen anyone in the parking lot either.
###
Where did he go? Rob rewound the security camera footage of the robbery yet again, knowing what he would see but watching the replay anyway. The robber, Rob himself and the clerk were all present, but from the moment the door opened to the moment the police cars skidded into the parking lot, there was nothing but static.
Strange.
“Commander Miller? Can I get you anything?” The clerk stood in the doorway of the gas station’s office.
Rob paused, his hand over the ‘rewind’ button on the CCTV machine. He was tempted to watch the video again, but what good would it do? He had already watched it countless times.
He stood, stretched and shook his head. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’ve already taken up too much of your time.”
“That’s okay. I’m just glad you and that guy showed up when you did.” the clerk said
On his way home, Rob kept running the events over and over in his mind. He nearly went through a stop sign because he was focused on Jack, not the road. He knew the young man, but how? Where had he gone? People didn’t just vanish into thin air.
###
The next few days, Rob kept an eye out for the young man. He was a witness to the robbery, and Rob wanted to say ‘Thank you’ for keeping him from getting shot. Unfortunately, he never got the chance. The police released a sketch of Jack asking for any information about him. No calls came in. It was like the young man had never existed, which was not possible. Everyone came from somewhere. Rob just had to find out where.
He was halfway home on Friday afternoon when his mind finally released the information he needed, but it didn’t solve the mystery. It created a new one. He did a U-turn and headed for his parent’s house.
###
Rob’s parents had an open door policy at their house, so the front door was almost always unlocked. The policy was a constant source of friction between his parents and the rest of the family. For once, though, he was happy the front door was unlocked. An entire wall by the staircase was covered in family portraits, school pictures, weddings, birthdays, and anything else that had pictures, he scanned the myriad of photographs and stopped at one he had seen a thousand times, a black and white 8x10 of a young man in a U.S. Army uniform. A familiar face stared back at him.
Impossible.
This picture had to be at least sixty years old. The young man grinning out of the photo had to be in his 80s or 90s by now.
Was he the man who had been in the gas station?
“Dad?” Rob called to his father.
Frank Miller came out of the kitchen, drying his calloused hands on a dish towel and came over to where Rob stood. “What’cha looking at?”
“Who’s that?” Rob pointed at the young man.
Frank took a couple of seconds to look. “Your mom’s grandfather. I don’t remember his name. Diane?”
Diane Miller appeared at the top of the stairs, dressed in her house cleaning clothes, looking down at her husband and son. “Yes?”
“Come down here. Got a photo question,” Frank said.
When Diane joined the two men, Rob pointed at the picture again and asked, “That’s your grandfather?”
Diane Miller nodded. “Yes, Poppi’s dad. That was taken just after he enlisted in World War II.” She looked at her son. “Why do you ask?”
Rob swallowed. A ghostly finger danced down his back. There was no way he had been saved by a ghost. That wasn’t possible. It just wasn’t.
“Honey?” Diane asked.
“Let’s go outside,” Rob said. “I’ve got a story to tell you.”
Outside, in the sun with the birds singing and a breeze blowing through the trees, Rob felt rather foolish as he told his parents about the gas station robbery. They knew how dangerous his job was. Frank had been the original head of the Ozark Rangers back when it started as a volunteer group. They listened without making a sound. When he was done, he shrugged and said, “I know it’s not possible. It can’t be. A ghost did not come into the gas station and tie up a robber’s hands.”
Diane gave him an enigmatic smile. “Are you 100% certain?”
“Mom, it’s not possible. Ghosts aren’t real.”.
“You think so?” she asked. “When I married your father, I added him to my prayer list. As each of you were born, I prayed for your well being. Now, as adults, I pray for all of y’alls safety and I will continue to do so. Maybe, it wasn’t a ghost, maybe it was the answer to my prayers to keep you safe.” She stood up. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you look like you need a drink, both of you. I’ll be back in a moment.”
Rob stared after his mother and then looked back at his father. “Dad, you can’t possibly believe in all this.”
Frank shrugged. “Son, if there’s one thing I’ve learned in all my years of marriage to your mother, it’s when she says something is so, it’s so. If she says her grandfather came through time and space to keep you safe, that’s exactly what happened. Doesn’t matter that it doesn’t make sense to you or me or anyone else. It makes sense to her, and that’s all that matters.”
Diane came back out with two bottles of beer and a picture. She sat down, looked at her husband and son and said “Rob, is it that hard to believe that your young man was an answer to a prayer?”
He thought about it. “Yes, ghosts don’t exist.”
She handed him the picture from the hallway. “Try thinking of it as help arriving when you needed it the most. Does that help?”
It didn’t, but she looked so knowing and hopeful, he couldn’t bring himself to say so.
“I guess. What was his name?”
“Jack Leary. Mother said he served in the European theatre. She was never sure where because once he came home, he never talked about it. Not to his wife and certainly not to his children. I have a memory of someone in the family saying he was part of the liberation of some of the concentration camps. He didn’t smile much either. At least, not until the grandchildren came along. I think I was nine or ten when he died. He could whittle a piece of wood into anything.”
Rob studied the photo of his great grandfather. The smile on his lips, the seriousness of his eyes. The young man in the picture had no idea of the horrors he was about to witness and yet, he survived, returned home and raised a family. The year was turning into a year where Rob learned he still had a lot to learn, and the learning came when he least expected it.
Diane ran a finger along the edge of the frame. “That his children, grandchildren and great grandchildren have gone on to serve the county he fought for would make him quite proud I think.” She gave Rob a gentle peck on the cheek and went inside. After a moment, Frank followed.
Rob looked at the picture again. The young man smiled back at him across the decades.
Feeling a little silly, but wanting to cover his bases, Rob said, “Thank you, Jack. I appreciated the assist.”
A breeze blew past, rustling the leaves in the trees.
If he listened very carefully, Rob could almost hear “You’re welcome.”
Amy has been a teacher at the high school and college level for twenty-three years in both history and English, always finding a way to work current literature into the lessons. She has used Agatha Christie’s Death On The Nile with great success as well as the Longmire series by Craig Johnson. She has also used episodes Murder, She Wrote and The Doctor Blake Mysteries as examples of storytelling. She has a master’s degree in History from University of Houston – Clear Lake and a master’s degree in English with a concentration in fiction from Southern New Hampshire University. She is currently working on a Master of Fine Arts in Writing from Lindenwood University’s online program. Her short story The Find of the Century has been published in the online magazine, Kings River Life Online magazine. She also has articles in Killer Nashville Mystery Magazine. She is currently at work on a full-length paranormal mystery titled Ink and Ashes. Ink and Ashes was a finalist in the 2022 Claymore Award for Unpublished Authors sponsored by Killer Nashville International Mystery Conference. Amy lives in Houston and has two cats, Fuzzy Moto and Sweetness.
