“Do you ever do any investigation?” Serra’s face softened and her arms went to her sides.
“A little bit of checking for items of suspicion.” Murphy turned to face his former boss and shot her a curious stare. “I’m not a detective, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Do you remember Mr. Norton?” Serra’s eyes wobbled and her mouth quivered for a brief moment.
“Yeah, I remember Joe.” Murphy smiled at memories. “Greatest music teacher I ever met. But the kids were so mean to him. All those horrible nicknames. Mr. No Walk. The Man Without Legs. Speed Wheelie. I remember giving my whole class a week of detention after they teased him the second day of school.”
Serra approached Murphy with her chin down and her eyes unable to do anything but dart around.
“You see, Joe and I,” Serra said before she cut herself off mid-sentence. Her voice became almost a whisper. “We were dating over the summer. But he passed away in a car crash last month.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Murphy closed his eyes and bowed his head. “The world is a lesser place with one less musician to brighten lives.”
Serra clenched her jaw and glanced up at the overcast sky.
“I’ve been getting these strange messages since the crash.” Serra pulled out her phone and showed active text message chains, with a mushy kiss and heart emoji message from Joe’s number. “This one was sent last night. I thought someone was pranking me. A student, maybe. Or one of the faculty.”
Murphy cocked an eyebrow and waited for more information.
“But two weeks ago, he began leaving voicemails.” Serra’s hands trembled as she locked her phone and put it back in her pocket. “It’s his voice, Mr. Moreno. It’s really my Joe. But I was at his funeral. I went to the morgue to identify him. I showed up to the crash site when the police pulled him from the wreckage. There’s no doubt in my mind he’s left this world. But these messages keep coming. And I’m starting to believe it’s him. It’s his voice! And he knows things. Little phrases we only said to each other. Things about us no one else does. Things about me only he would know.”
Murphy cleared his throat and pushed away all mental images of what Miss Serra and Mr. Norton knew about each other.
“He keeps inviting me to join him on his virtual reality server.” Serra shook her head. “He always begged me to go there, but I always said real life with him was where I liked being most. No need to travel to a fake computer fantasy. But now this person who claims to be him insists I go there and join him.”
“You want me to check it out?” Murphy folded his arms and took a deep breath.
“I don’t have any money to pay you.” Serra tilted her chin up. “But I could put in a strong recommendation for you to be hired as an after school art club advisor. It might be enough money to avoid dangerous government work.”
“I’m not,” Murphy said before he paused and stared at his former boss’ wounded gaze. “I’m a baker, and I sometimes do security gigs.” He winced at the sight of Serra’s eyes watering up.
“I don’t know who else to ask.” Serra sighed. “This is torment. Either the man I loved is reaching out to me from beyond the grave, or someone is playing a sickening joke on me. Either way, I can’t take it.”
Murphy took a deep breath and placed a firm hand on Serra’s shoulder.
“Jacqueline, I’ll do this for you because I consider you a friend.” Murphy grinned and nodded toward his food truck. “And because I’m the spooky weirdo. I guess I’m the person to call if you need to find a ghost.”
“Thank you, Murphy!” Serra reached up for Murphy’s hand and gave it a tight squeeze. “You don’t know how much this means to me. I’ll text you the server link. Now I’d better get to my campus patrol before anyone notices I’m missing. Thanks again, Mr. Moreno.”
Murphy closed up his food truck and pulled out his phone. He made a post about being a bit late for lunch, but promised customers he’d be at a nearby mall’s parking lot within twenty minutes. He planned to check out Norton’s server later in the evening after he finished dinner service at a local soccer park.
Serra messaged with a link to the server, exactly as she promised.
Murphy forwarded the message to his headset account and fought off a shiver. He wondered if he was scared or excited to find a ghost. As he paced toward the front of his truck and stared at the friendly green alien with a slice of pizza, he admitted it was a little of both.
ns 15.158.61.42da2
