CHAPTER FIVE

"Do you remember your name?" asked Angel.

"Gus. Gus Presley."

"What's the last thing you remember, Gus?" asked Cruz.

"You all walking up on my island," he frowned.

"I think we have to go back further than that," smirked Angel. "And just so that we're clear, everything you see, for as far as the eye can see, belongs to the Robicheaux family. Including this island."

"Figures," he frowned.

"Gus, what's the last thing you remember before being on this island?" asked Trak. The man scratched his head, rubbing his hand over his ear. What did he remember?

"I'm not sure," he frowned. "I was just thinking to myself that it was like I woke up one morning, and this was my home. But that isn't right, is it?"

"I don't think so," said Trak. "Where were you born?"

"Prescott, Arizona," he said with pride.

"Good. That's good. It's a place for us to start," said Cruz. "Were you married?" The man frowned, deep in thought.

"I don't believe I was. I know I was married to something, but I don't think it was a woman. But I feel as if it's all gone now. Gone. Hey, if I'm a ghost, how are you able to see me and talk to me?" he asked.

"It's a magical land that allows us to communicate with spirits," said Trak. "You may have been trapped in a world in between life and death, not recognizing that you were gone as yet."

"I drove a truck," he said casually. "I mean, for a living. I drove a truck. I think."

"That's great information," nodded Cruz. "Like a tractor-trailer? Did you haul specific goods?"

Gus stared at the three men and two ghosts, suspicious of their questions. But why would he be suspicious of questions? Was he hauling illegal cargo?

"I don't remember," he said, staring at them. "Am I really dead?"

"You could try shaking my hand again," said Angel, "but I'm afraid the result will most likely be the same. I'm alive, and you are not. I'm sorry."

"Gus, have you tried to leave the island?" asked Archie.

"I tried to hitch a ride with a man that was out here with that boat the other day. He didn't answer me when I called out to him, so I just stepped into the boat. When he pulled away from the dock, I was suddenly back on the dock, unable to move."

"For some reason, Gus, you're able to come out here and move around our property. We don't know why yet, but we'll try to help you figure that out. It's highly unusual for a ghost to move from one location to another," said Cruz.

His clothing appeared to be fairly modern. He definitely had died within the last twenty to thirty years. He wore no jewelry, no rings, nothing. His hair seemed mostly gray, what was left of it anyway. His eyes, a rich brown color.

"Code? You hear me?" asked Angel.

"Got you."

"Gus Presley. Born in Prescott, Arizona, maybe in his late fifties. He was a truck driver."

"Give me a few minutes."

"Who you talking to?" he frowned.

"We have communication devices that help us to speak with others on the other islands," smiled Angel. "Our friend is very good at finding people, so we're hoping we can find you."

"Mr. Presley, did you have any children?" asked Charity.

"It's just Gus. Children? Children. You would think I'd remember that, wouldn't you? I don't know. I don't think so. I don't know." He shook his head, and Charity smiled at the old man.

"It's alright. I didn't remember everything right away either."

"You look like you died a long time ago," he said. "I mean your clothes are real old and make you look like you're from another time."

"Yes. I'm afraid so," she smiled. "But Archie and I have been able to connect in this world, the world that's in between. Or at least, that's what we think it is."

"Can I stay here? I mean, I made a shelter for myself and all," he said.

"You can. I would just ask for the coffee mug back for a friend of mine. He thought it was stolen," grinned Cruz. Gus nodded and retrieved the mug, holding it in his hand.

"How can I hold it? If I'm dead, but it belongs to someone alive, how come I'm holding it?"

"It's a good question," said Angel. "I'm not sure of the answer to that. Hand it to me." Gus reached out and dropped the mug in Angel's hand. There was nothing unusual or shocking about it other than his fingers passed through Gus's, thereby confirming that he was indeed a ghost.

"Hey, guys, I think you need to be careful with our guest."

"Shit," muttered Angel. "Why is that?"

"He's wanted for murder."