CHAPTER SIX

Zeek came out with wet hair, wearing blue jeans and his favorite otter T-shirt.

Bess was sitting on the couch watching TV.

He smiled. “You want a drink or something?”

“No,” she said flatly. “What took you so long? We’ve got work to do.”

“Huh? I had to find my clothes and do my hair. It’s got a mind of its own. Sometimes I feel like a lion tamer with this thing.” He pointed up. “Down boy! Wa-tish!”

Bess shook her head and slid her boots off the table. “We need to sort out some details before we do anything.”

“What sort of details?”

“Well, for one I need to know—” Bess cut herself off as she looked at Zeek’s T. “What is that?”

He glanced down and stretched his shirt out. “It’s an otter in a super hero outfit. I had someone make it for me. See he’s got a little mask over his eyes.”

“You had that made?”

“Of course. Well I drew it. Don’t you get it? It’s a UFO.” Zeek smiled. “Unidentified—”

“Yeah ... flying otter. Cute. So as I was saying, first things first, I want an itinerary of what weapons you’re equipped with and what sort of skills you have.”

“Okay,” said Zeek, leaning a shoulder against the wall. “Where do you want me to start?”

“Skills,” she said. “What can you do?”

Zeek looked up and to the left, thinking about that. “I guess I can make a pretty mean mac ’n cheese. Oh! And check this out.” He grabbed hold of his index finger and starting yanking it. The joint went, pop, pop, pop. “Dislocated joint. Pretty cool, huh?”

“Oh, God,” Bess slapped a hand to her head. “This can’t be happening. I mean fighting skills. What martial arts do you know?”

“Ah, I guess none, really,” he said, thinking hard. “Although ... do you count watching Chuck Norris movies or ...”

“No. Chuck Norris movies do not count in any way whatsoever.” She took a deep breath. “Okay, you must have something going for you. What weapons do you have?”

Zeek’s eyes narrowed. “Is this an interview? This feel like an interview.”

“Just answer the question ... ” She forced a smile and held back the words that had come to mind. “Please, Zeek.”

“Hm, I guess I’ve got a primary weapon and a secondary weapon.”

“Good. What are we talking? Remington 880 with salt packed shells? Uzi with cold iron rounds? Sword forged in holy water?”

Zeek’s eyes grew wide. “Please tell me you’ve got a sword forged in holy water!”

“No. I’m asking you. What are you packing?”

“Dang. Well my primary weapon is my crowbar. I found it in a dumpster. Can you believe that? Who throws a crowbar away? It did have some blood on it though, so maybe it was used in a violent crime. I couldn’t say for sure.”

Bess clenched her jaw.

“And my secondary weapon is my vacuum trap. I threw salt at a poltergeist one time, but I got it in my eyes. It stung for days. I couldn’t stop crying. People kept asking if I was okay, which was super sweet, but they always reacted badly when I told them how it happened, but I feel honesty is always best.”

Bess turned her back on Zeek, a hand on her hip, taking deep breaths and mumbling something about why me?

Zeek suddenly leapt in front of her wielding the light saber BBQ tongs. “YA!” He swung it and the thing buzzed, green LED lights hitting her in the eyes.

Bess leapt back in fright. Her eyes were wide, expression frozen in disbelief.

“Check it out,” he said. “Makes the sound effects and everything.” Holding it up in both hands he made long arcs through the air. The saber went KLSCHHHHH! and VUUWWWOOOM!

Zeek nodded his head with a wide smile. “Right? Right?”

“Are you sure you’re the Spirit Hunter?”

“Ghost cleaner!” he said with a finger up in exclamation.