Ghostly Inference(Steven W Kimball) He sat with a disgusted look on his face, scrutinizing the large index sized card before him. Retrieving a pencil from his desk drawer he erased the eighty appearing at the bottom of the card and wrote a seventy-two in its place. As he sat back to admire his handywork, he suddenly heard a low tapping which seemed to be coming from underneath the desk. He pushed his chair away and leaned his body sideways to peer beneath. The tapping ceased immediately. Casually dismissing it as an overactive imagination he pulled himself back up to the desk. The tricks your mind plays on you when you work late, he thought to himself. A few minutes passed and the tapping began again but louder. As before, he pushed his chair away and leaned sideways to gain a better vantage point. Again, the tapping stopped, and he saw nothing. This time as he pulled himself back up to the desk, he heard the muffled sound of a child giggling. He immediately pushed himself away again and stood up. As he stepped back from the desk to look once more, he saw the pallid round face of a child withdraw into the shadows beneath.

As he scurried from the room he dared not look back, for the giggling sound was no longer muffled and seemed to be following close behind him. As soon as he exited his office, he slammed the door closed, turned his back to it and leaned the full weight of his sizeable stature against it. He could feel the cold sweat running down the side of his face. Turning his head to the side he listened. As he did, he could barely hear anything over the sound of his own heart beating. The giggling, now from just inside the door, slowly faded until at last it ceased all together. Once able to regain his composure, the first thought that came to mind was at least none of his staff witnessed how cowardly he had reacted. Luckily, he would not have to return to his office for several days. This would give him ample time to find another workspace should he decide to stay late again.

Ten days would pass before he returned to his office and even then, it was only during the day. Although as always, his staff tried their best to avoid him, much to their chagrin he would find convenient reasons for them to remain close at hand. It would be a full two weeks more before he would convince himself the presence of the child was but a figment of his imagination. And thus, his confidence and overbearing demeanor returned. So much so that very night he would again remain until well after eleven. As he expected, the entire time spent alone in his office was uneventful.

It was quarter of twelve when he decided to take an on premises walk to commit to memory the directives he had verbally issued that day. He was adamant about following up on his orders. As he passed by one of the darkened rooms, he heard a sound. It was barely audible and yet very distinctive in nature. After all it is not often you hear a grown man crying. He stood frozen in the hallway contemplating whether he should take a step back and investigate the source. What if it was one of his staff members crying? Dealing with such things made him uncomfortable, not to mention he sometimes found the concept of empathy difficult to grasp. Just then the sobbing grew louder. Instinctively, he rolled his eyes and after taking a deep breath took a long step backwards and turned to peer inside the room.

Barely inside the doorway and facing outwards a thin lanky man stood, head turned downwards. The sounds emanating from him could now be clearly heard and as they echoed about the room and hallway took on an ominous quality. The man was dressed in an antique style black suit. As if sensing another’s presence, he slowly raised his head while at the same time making no attempt to keep hidden the distress he was in. As their eyes met, the sorrow this man experienced was suddenly and profoundly felt by both men. Upon its conveyance the man inside the room faded from existence as would a wisp of smoke, the solidity of his body seemingly dissipating into the intense darkness the unlit room provided. It was at this moment the man in the hallway fainted, heavily striking the hallway floor.

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Initially the loud hollow sounding bang at his office door startled him, especially after the frightful events of the night before. He took a moment to calm his breathing, then spoke loudly “Come”. He already knew who was waiting outside simply from the distinctive single knock. “John, I am so glad it’s you, I have something to discuss with you which cannot ever leave this room. Is that understood?” “Of course,” John said.

John, leaned against the back of the couch with his head down as he listened intently to both the story of the ghostly looking child and the appearance of the crying man the night before. At the end John raised his head and the two men looked directly at one another. Met with a scared bewildered look John spoke first. “Sir, don’t you know who that was? I’ll bet he had a full beard, didn’t he?” “Yes, but how did you know that?” Now John was the one with a look of bewilderment as he began to explain. “Mr. President, it is said the ghost of Abraham Lincoln will return to the White House should the Country or its democracy ever again be threatened as it was in the time of the great Civil War. Many believe it is an effort to offer guidance to those in need of it. Several people, even Winston Churchill, have claimed to have seen him. Sightings were most prevalent during Hitler’s rise to power and throughout World War II. As to the boy, I believe Lincoln’s son often played under the desk as the President worked.” There was a long silence in the room as the two men looked at one another. Finally, President Trump spoke, “Malarkey, now get out of my office before I fire you!” As the Chief of Staff left the room, he heard the president mutter out loud, “The Country has never been in better hands!”

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