2020-01-12 - James Hecker: Ghost Plumber

".... shitter's haunted.", are the only words that leave James' lips as he steps out of the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind him. He looks pale, spooked, eyes wide as saucers. Behind him, there's another groan and bang. James jumps and winces, but continues looking straight forward as he makes his way through the piles of crap still spread all over the place towards where he hung up his magic coat. He says nothing more, just grabbing the coat, putting it on, and turning to head to the door leading out of the house.

He pauses, just for a moment, and listens. Back in the house, from behind the bathroom door, there's a rattle. James' left eye twitches, and he slips out the door.

James walks with a stiff gait, muttering wordlessly under his breath as he drags his skinny ass towards the hardware store- but he does make a pit stop at a little shop on the way there. The kind of shop that sells crystals. And sage. And candles. And probably essential oils because of course essential oils. Once inside the small shop, James grabs a double-armful of supplies: sage packets to burn, candles with images of saints on them, an assorted bag of semi-precious stones, a little container of supposedly blessed salt, a cheap rosary, and a bag of Buddha-shaped gummi bears from the register. The little old woman who rings him up looks over the motley collection of items, and raises a brow at the short ginger man.

"Big night planned, young man?", she asks.

James just stares at her unblinking, pulls out his wallet, and drops the payment on the counter. "... shitter's haunted."

The woman blinks. "... w-what?", she asks.

James just nods at her, takes the bag with his supplies, and heads out the door. Hardware store next.

The trip to the hardware store is quick: a plunger. Some rubber boots and gloves. A backup plunger. An air filter mask. Third plunger, for redundancy. A roll of duct tape.

The large man behind the counter at the hardware store looks at this motley collection of items, raises a brow, and looks to James. "... big night planned?', the man asks.

James stares, lays several bills on the counter. "Shitter's haunted."

The man behind the counter raises the other brow, nods, and reaches under the counter, pulling out an extra roll of duct tape and passing it over to James, wordlessly. James takes it, looks up and meets the man's eyes. There's an understanding there. The hardware store cashier has lived in this town all his life. James nods back at him, puts the roll in with the rest of his stuff, and turns to head back home.

We cut to half an hour later, back at the old Hecker place. James stands in front of the still-closed bathroom door, from behind which increasing groans and the banging and creaking of pipes are coming. A dim light spills out from beneath the door onto the hallway beyond it.

James stares at the door. He's got a plunger in one hand. Two more plungers strapped to his back with duct tape, their handles forming a cross. There's a sage packet duct taped to the tip of the plunger in his hand, lit and smoking, and a cheap plastic rosary is slung over his neck. Rubber boots and gloves on, salt slung from one hip, extra roll of duct tape on the other. He stares at the door a few moments longer, eyes flicking down to the doorknob as it rattles a few times.

James frowns, grips the smoking plunger tighter, and nods. "... shitter's haunted.", he mutters, reaches up to pull the mask down over his face. Steeling himself, he lifts one rubber-booted foot, and kicks the door open, rushing inside. We don't even get a glimpse of what's inside before the door shuts behind him with a SLAM.