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were that good looking. And, of course, any cop or detective movie was a must see.
    She quickened her pace when the ghost turned south on Spring Street. She made it to the corner in time to see him walk into one of the empty buildings across from an abandoned manufacturing plant.
    Stopping in front of the building, she tried to determine what it used to be. There were no picture windows or anything that looked like a retail store. The old brownstone had a heavy front door made of glass that was covered with white paint on the backside. She moved closer and could see the faded outline of painted letters. Ernie’s Gymnasium and Pugilism Training
    Reaching inside her purse, she pulled out a small flashlight. She heard the click on the other side of the door and it slowly began to open for her.
    I’ve seen this in movies , she thought , and usually going inside is a bad thing.
    “You ain’t a chicken are you?” the ghost’s voice taunted from inside.
    Someday I’m not going to let that kind of challenge get to me , she thought, as she moved toward the entrance. Walking through the open door, she immediately inhaled the scent of dried wood, aging leather and dust. Dust motes floated all around her, highlighted in the beams of morning light that slipped through the planking on the tall side windows. Pointing her flashlight beam in front of her, she slowly scanned the room. In the middle of the large room was an elevated boxing ring. In a corner a large brown leather punching bag hung from a beam. Next to it, a series of smaller bags were suspended at head level.
    She turned and immediately tensed when another beam of light shot towards her. It took her a moment to realize she was shining her flashlight into a wall-sized mirror. She walked toward the mirror and noted the wooden shelving that ran along the floor. Reaching down, she picked up an antique 10 pound weight.
    “This is so cool,” she whispered.
    “Yeah, I thought you might like it,” the ghost said, appearing next to her. “Why don’t you turn on the lights?”
    “The electricity works?” she asked.
    “Would I suggest you turn on the lights if it didn’t?”
    Mary raised one delicately groomed eyebrow. “I don’t know. Would you?”
    His gruff laugh echoed in the large room. “No, sister, I wouldn’t.”
    He pointed to a large gray box in another corner of the room. Mary walked over, wiped the spider webs off the front and pulled the metal switch down. The fluorescent bulbs in the hanging ceiling fixtures slowly fluttered to life. They started at the far end of the room and slowly each area of the gym was filled with light.
    “This is like a scene from a movie,” Mary said, placing her purse down and hurrying over to the platform.
    She climbed up and slipped through the ropes, standing inside the boxing ring. Fisting her hands and positioning her arms in a boxer’s stance, she rose to the balls of her feet and danced around the ring.
    Loud clapping had her dropping her hands and turning back to the ghost who was slowly gliding toward her.
    “You got good instincts, sister. I can say that much for you. But you still need a lot more work before you can get into that ring.”
    “Work? What kind of work?”
    “That’s the thing,” he said. “That’s what I need. I need to train you. I need you to be the champ I missed out on.”
    “But, I can’t...”
    “What, you telling me you ain’t a fighter?”
    “Well, no, I’m a fighter.”
    “You scared?”
    Mary stiffened and stared at him. “I am not afraid.”
    “Well, there you go,” he said, his face breaking into a wide grin. “We got ourselves a deal.”
    “But, wait...”
    “Be here tomorrow morning, seven a.m., and don’t be late,” he said, just before he disappeared.
    “Well, crap,” Mary said, climbing out of the ring. “I really don’t need this right now.”
    She started to head towards the electric box, but the leather punching bag caught her eye. She slipped off her coat,