Zack Carver's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

The flyer was up, but the tour needed people. Zack had one Saturday and no guests yet. He knew where a crowd gathered every night. He walked to the warm glow of the Lamplight Bar and Grill, flyer folded in his hoodie pocket. Inside, the man he never spoke to stood behind the counter, drying a glass. Billy Ray Tims. Zack had crushed on him for a year and never said more than two words. Zack sat on his usual stool. His heart pounded. Billy Ray set a ginger ale down before Zack could ask. "Ginger ale," Billy Ray said. He always knew. Zack stared at the bubbles. This was the plan. Talk. Invite him. His mouth went dry. He almost said nothing, like every other night. Then he thought of Saturday, and the empty sign-up. He forced the words out. "I'm running a ghost tour," Zack said. His voice cracked. "Saturday. Town history. Old stories." Billy Ray stopped wiping the counter. He looked at Zack like he was seeing him for the first time. "You talk," Billy Ray said. Zack's face went hot. "Ten dollars a head. I mean, not for you. I mean, if you wanted to come. To the tour." He pulled out the crumpled flyer and slid it across the bar. His hand shook. Billy Ray picked it up. He read it slow. The bar hummed around them, but Zack heard only his own pulse. "You did this," Billy Ray said. Not a question. "Yeah." Billy Ray folded the flyer and tucked it in his shirt pocket. "Nobody in this town does anything." He leaned on the counter. "I'll come." Zack blinked. "You will?" "Said so." Billy Ray studied him a moment longer. "Ginger ale guy makes ghost tours. Didn't see that." Zack laughed. It surprised them both. "There's more to me than a drink order." "Starting to think so." A small smile. Then a customer waved from the far end, and Billy Ray moved off to pour a beer. Zack sat with his ginger ale and let it sink in. He had done it. He had talked. Billy Ray Tims was coming Saturday. The stool felt lighter under him. Then the weight dropped back down. Billy Ray was coming. Coming to a tour Zack had not written yet. He had a flyer and an old oak tree with two initials in the bark. That was all. No route. No stories. No ghosts. Billy Ray glanced back and gave a short nod, like they shared something now. Zack nodded too and smiled until the man looked away. He walked home in the dark. Matty met him at the gate, tail going. Zack knelt and scratched the beagle's ears under the red bandana. "I got him to come," Zack whispered. "Now I have to give him a reason." He had three days to build a ghost tour worth ten dollars. And the one person he wanted to impress would be standing right there.