The video began with a view of Sally’s front yard. As it played on, Officer Street turned his attention from the video to Martha. He wanted to read her reaction the first time she viewed it. As she watched the events unfold, her hand went up to her slightly open mouth. She paused the video.
“Officer, I’m not about to watch something horrible happen to that little girl, am I?”
“No, ma’am. The girl is safe and sound.”
“And there isn’t any violence or gore as a result of this accident, is there? The imagery is hard for me to get out of my mind once I’ve seen it.”
“No. The truck is going about 25 or 30 miles per hour and strikes the man you see running toward it. The man, Clay, saved the little girl. He suffered temporarily paralysis from the impact as well as a concussion, but he’s in the hospital now and expected to make a full recovery.”
She considered his answer for a moment and then nodded as she hit play. “There is something... familiar about this street,” she murmured as the video resumed.
Officer Street pulled out his pad and made a couple notes. Usual psychic tricks? Smart. Levelheaded. Tentative.
The flash of light made her lean back in surprise. “Zum Teufel,” she murmured. Officer Street looked up, not understanding the expression. The video continued playing as she sat bolt-upright in her chair. Without taking her eyes off the screen, she said, “I would like to see that flash in slow motion.”
“I thought you would. Go ahead and close video file 01, there isn’t anything more you can see that would help, and it goes on for a while.” Before closing it, Martha watched in disgust as a portly man got out of the truck and shouted at the victims. She paused it and regarded him for a brief moment. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to watch this in its entirety at some point.”
Officer Street nodded in agreement as she played the file labeled Video 02.
The slow-motion video showed the arms and upper body materialize from the light, merge with Clay’s body from the side, and then exit in a flash from the other side. It wasn’t lost on her that this occurred just as Clay reached the little girl and tossed her to safety.
“Mein Gott!” Martha exclaimed as she leaned back, recoiling from the image. She paused the video and sat back astonished.
“Is that German?” Officer Street asked.
“Yes. Sorry, when I’m taken off guard, I tend to use my native language.”
“You moved here from Germany?”
“Yes, with my parents when I was a little girl. But that’s another story. What is the child’s name?”
“Elena,” Officer Street answered. “Very sweet, bright young lady.”
Martha tightened her lips and nodded. “Glad she is okay.”
Officer Street let her sit in thought without interrupting. He wanted to let her speak first.
She drew in a deep breath and sat up in the chair. “Given that this is authentic, it appears to be what you think it is.”
“What’s that, ma’am?”
She looked over at him, her dark eyes regarding him intently. “Ein Geist, Officer. It is the spirit of someone lingering in the Earthly Realm.” She spoke with hints of a chanting lilt in her voice.
Officer Street held her gaze for a moment, then looked out the window as the reality of the situation settled in—he was dealing with the paranormal. “How do you know?”
“Well, from the video, it seems obvious. An image of a Geist can be captured that way, especially if it is a strong emotional manifestation of his or her energy.” Martha settled back into the oversized chair and sipped her tea. She appeared to be in her element as she described the scene to Officer Street. “In this case, it looks like the Geist had a strong emotional reaction or attachment to saving this little girl, which is why the manifestation is so well defined. This leads me to believe that the death is likely recent.” She paused in thought before continuing, “Relative to an average life span, that is.”
Officer Street stared at his pad in disbelief. This went against so many things he had come to hold true. This kind of stuff is used in movies for suspense or by charlatans to scare people. This can’t be real. Officer Street swallowed his doubts, pushing forward with the interview.
“It looks like the spirit enters his body. Is this a possession?” he asked Martha.
“Not in this case,” she responded. “Possession generally refers to the idea that...” Martha hesitated for a moment, as though searching for the right words. “The idea that a malevolent entity can take control of a person, causing them to act in a way they normally couldn’t, or better yet wouldn’t. Usually badly. This is nothing of the sort. When a benevolent spirit merges with a living person acting altruistically, it’s known as an amalgamation.”
“I’ve never heard of that. Can you spell it?” He wrote the word down as she spelled it out.
“If I remember the theory correctly, it’s important you keep the notion of altruism in mind,” she added. “Without that concept directing intention, amalgamation cannot be achieved. Both deceased and living must be acting with benevolent intent.”
Officer Street nodded as he furiously scribbled notes, trying to take each word with a grain of salt.
Martha continued, “It is a rare event though. In fact, I’ve never heard of any case happening in my lifetime, and I’m fairly well-connected within the spiritual community. I’ve only come across one, maybe two accounts where it actually occurred. One of them took place somewhere in Eastern Europe shortly after the Second World War.” Martha paused for a moment. “Now that I think about it, I also believe I’ve read about it in one of the older texts I’ve collected.” She turned in her chair, deep in thought, and scanned the collection of books in the case. “I can’t remember exactly which one, but I know I’ve read about it somewhere,” she repeated, drifting off as she looked for the book.
“It’s okay, we can come back to that later if needs be.” Officer Street fell silent, staring down at the word ‘amalgamation’, unsure of what to do next.
Martha turned from her search and regarded him. She seemed to sense the hesitancy about him. “I can help. But I need to meet the people on this video. Not the driver of the truck—he is an obvious jerk. But I’ll need to meet this man, Clay, and the little girl, along with her mother, of course.”
Officer Street considered this for a moment. Should he take this road? Should he bring this woman into the picture? Clay had been through too much already. How am I going to explain this video? “I’m not sure about that, ma’am.”
Martha nodded once then returned to scanning her bookshelf in silence.
Officer Street got up and stepped over to the window. He’d arrived at a crossroads regarding the investigation, each option representing a point of no return. He could very easily dismiss this as nonsense, thank this lady for her time, and move on. We have everything we need to convict John. He could also just give Clay a summary of what he found here and let him look into it later. Probably the best option. Or, he could ask Martha for her help. Not one of my best ideas, but this...
He sighed, knowing he could not turn away from the decision. This information, about the Geist, wasn’t an integral part of the criminal investigation against John the driver. The thought of him made Officer Street’s expression briefly turn down in disgust. No, this information was more personal in nature. As such, it would not be right to withhold or even delay personal information from those involved, especially if it had little or no relevance to the investigation. Especially if it involved someone you knew and respected.
𓂓
As Jackie drove back to the hospital, she tried to think of a way to talk to Elena about her imaginary friends. Several times, she’d started to say something but couldn’t articulate the question. Her daughter seemed fine, at peace as usual, so she simply decided to move that topic to the backburner of an already cluttered mental stovetop and address it later.
Jackie pulled into the parking space at the hospital and killed the motor. She despised parking lots. They had been nothing but trouble since Evan died. Dusk approached, and she paused in the car to look around before opening the door. Satisfied, they got out and went around to the trunk to find a bag of spare clothes she kept there. She wanted a long-sleeve shirt in case it got chilly in the hospital. After rummaging around a bit, she found a blue polo and folded it into her oversized purse. As she tucked it in, Jackie noticed a faint smell. She wrinkled her nose and pulled her gym bag closer. This stuff hasn’t been used in a while, probably has something sweaty I left inside. Rustling through the gear bag, her mind drifted to the last time she had gone to the MMA gym.
