The Spirit Key

by Parker Williams

  He turned away, and I grabbed his wrist.

  “Tim, I—”

  “Get your goddamn hands off me. The only reason I haven’t laid you out is because we used to be friends. I want you out of here, and I don’t ever want to see you again.” The rage in his eyes was amplified by the coldness in his voice.

  I released my hold, letting my hand drop down to my side. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  “No, you’re a son of a bitch, and I hate you.”

  Chapter Three

  I STOOD on the porch, staring at the door Tim had just slammed in my face. I had no idea what to do. Tim was pissed, and I couldn’t blame him. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I scrubbed a hand over them, wishing I had just stayed home. I could have remained ignorant of the fact my best—former—friend now hated my guts.

  Taking out my phone, I called for an Uber. At the moment I wasn’t sure where I wanted them to take me, but anywhere had to be better than here. Deciding to wait on the curb, I walked to the street and sat down, my head bowed. I had no clue what I could do to make up pretty much my whole life to Tim. I’d screwed the pooch big-time where he was concerned, and the only person I could blame was myself.

  A car turned the corner and drove slowly in my direction. I got up, ready to get the hell out of here, when the door to Tim’s house opened. I braced myself, thinking he’d decided that kicking my ass wasn’t a bad idea, but instead he came up behind me and grabbed my shoulders, spinning me around to face him.

  His legs were planted wide, his eyes were narrowed, and his nostrils flared. Even when we were kids and fighting over who would win in a fight between Batman and Captain America, I’d never seen him this angry.

  For the record, Batman every time.

  “Why did you have to come back? I was doing okay. I was.” The anguish in his voice threatened to overwhelm me.

  “I didn’t mean to screw up your life. It’s just… you know.”

  No way was I about to say again that his mother had come to me. I was stupid, but not that stupid.

  “You don’t know what it was like, seeing you on the porch. I wanted to come up there and punch you, but….”

  But? “What?”

  Tim sighed. “Having you just show up out of the blue? I’m happy but so angry. Was our friendship a lie?”

  “What? Oh God, no.” I couldn’t have him think that. “I ran because I was afraid of bringing my weird into your life.”

  A grin played on his lips. “Your weird has always been in my life. It’s part and parcel of who you are.”

  A car horn blew, scaring the shit out of both of us. A kid stuck his head out the car’s window. “You the one that called for an Uber?”

  “Yeah, I….” I was torn. Part of me wanted to get in the car and drive away, but another part wanted Tim to say not to go.

  “Well? Do you need a ride?”

  I gazed into Tim’s eyes. “Do I?”

  He shook his head emphatically.

  I yanked my wallet out and tossed the driver a twenty. “Sorry, it was a mistake.”

  “Whatever.” He took the money, put the car into gear, and drove off.

  We stood in awkward silence for a few moments, and then Tim heaved a sigh. “Don’t go. Come into the house.”

  “Okay.” My voice was calm, though inside I was anything but.

  I followed him back into the house, and we went into the living room, where we took a seat on the sofa. He ran a hand over the burgundy monstrosity his mother had thought was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

  “Do you remember when we built a fort in here?”

  Did I! Couch cushions became walls. A tattered red blanket was our roof. We hid inside and read comic books until his mother came along and found out we’d taken apart half the living room. She turned around and stomped out to the kitchen. We were terrified that she was angry, especially when she yelled for us to get our asses into the kitchen. When we did, she grinned and held out a platter of pizza rolls. She handed that to Tim, then gave me three sodas. We trooped into the living room, and she got down on her hands and knees and crawled into our fort, then turned and asked if we were coming. We spent the afternoon there, reading, eating, and sharing a lot of laughs.

  “I loved your mother.”

  “And she loved you. She thought of you like another son.”

  “I know. She told me.” I hadn’t meant to say it, but I got overwhelmed by the emotions and memories.

  Tim drew in a sharp breath. “Did you really see her?”

  “Yes.” My voice was soft, because I was deathly afraid of pissing Tim off again.

  “She doesn’t hurt anymore, right?” He sounded so hopeful.

  “No.” How could I tell him what she had sacrificed to get to me? “Tim….”

  “She’s gone, isn’t she? I don’t know why, but when you said you saw her, it felt like I’d been punched in the gut. After she died, I felt she was watching me, but then yesterday I had a chill run through me and I couldn’t feel her anymore. I tried to tell myself I was wrong, but I knew it.”

  “Tim, I—”

  “It’s okay. You can tell me. I’d rather know from you than always wonder.”

  I took a deep breath. “Yes, she’s gone.” I fought to keep myself composed, but when I saw the hurt in his eyes, it was a losing battle. I opened my arms, and he rushed to me. I held him while he cried, something I should have been here to do in the first place.

  It took a while, but eventually his breathing evened out and he drifted off to sleep. I pulled him down onto my lap and ran my fingers through his hair. Tim had always been the stronger of us. He was the one who fought back, even when the odds were impossible. I loved him so much but was always too afraid to tell him.

  The night got darker, and I was exhausted. I reached out, flicked the switch on the lamp next to the couch, and plunged the room into darkness. With Tim’s head in my lap, his soft snores tickling my ears, I finally slept.

  FIRE SURROUNDS me, the flames licking at my clothes. It’s so hot and I can’t breathe. Each gasp draws more smoke into my lungs. In the distance, my baby is screaming, and I can’t reach him. My shirt catches fire. I try to beat out the flames, but it doesn’t help. My cries join my baby’s. I’m pinned, unable to move. My hair sizzles before it too catches fire. I pray to God to save me and Joshua.

  When my skin starts burning, my prayers change. I know there won’t be any help, and instead of saving me, now I want to die quickly. The flames sear my face, the smell nauseating. I know enough to realize that even if I survive this, I’m never going to be the same. My husband will never again look at me with affection in his eyes. My baby will scream each time he sees me.

  And then, I feel nothing. I’m still burning, but the pain has stopped. I’m so cold, though. Trying to look around does me no good. I can’t move at all, and things are getting dark. Then I see my husband standing over me, his face a mask of sadness. He leans in and kisses me, whispering how much he will always love me.

  The ground shifts, and I’m scared once more. We’re moving through the trees, down to the cemetery near the brook that we loved to picnic by. When we stop, I grow more confused with every passing moment. Why are we here?

  Then it strikes me. They’re going to bury me. But… I’m still alive! Why are they doing this? Why is David allowing it? I will myself to move. For God’s sake, move a finger or blink. Do something to let them know I’m not dead. Oh my God, please, please don’t do this. I’m alive. Can’t you see me? Who will take care of my son?

  Please, I’m alive.

  “Scotty? Scotty! Wake the fuck up!”

  I jolted up, my heart hammering. What the fuck was that? My dreams had always been about drowning, and now I was having nightmares about burning to death and being buried alive? That was total bullshit. It took me a moment to get my breathing under control.

  “You okay?”

  I turned and found Tim kneeling in front of me, clutching the couch cushion i
n his hands, his knuckles white. He cocked his head and stared at me.

  “Scotty? I asked a question. Are you all right?”

  “Huh?” I shook my head to clear the cobwebs. “Oh, yeah, I think so.”

  “You were crying out that you were alive, and it scared the crap out of me. You really need to stop doing that.” He stood, sat next to me, and wrapped an arm over my shoulder. I snuggled into his warmth, hoping to chase away the chill that was slithering through my body. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  I shook my head. “Not really. It was just a bad dream.”

  “I got coffee made. Want me to get you a cup?”

  “Yes, please.”

  But he didn’t move. He sat there, rubbing circles on my back. I didn’t want him to stop, but I also wasn’t ready for him to see my feelings toward him.

  “Coffee?”

  “In a minute. I need to be sure you’re okay.”

  Finally, he stopped rubbing, got up, and went into the kitchen. A few moments later, he returned, two steaming mugs in his hand. He placed them on the table in front of me, then returned to his seat.

  I grabbed the cup of coffee and inhaled deeply. As much as I enjoyed the aroma, the first sip was heaven. He’d added a bit of cream to it, just the way I enjoyed it. “How did you know?”

  Tim rolled his eyes. “Please. How many cups did we suck down to stay awake for the horror movie marathons we sat through? Or what about all the times we had to go to Starbucks to get coffee when we stayed up late cramming for Mr. Denmar’s tests? You always put one splash of cream and two packets of sugar. Then you’d get it back to the table and complain that you hate coffee.”

  It was amazing how well he knew me.

  We sipped our coffee in silence, but it wasn’t at all awkward. To me, it was as though the last five years hadn’t happened, but I knew it was different for Tim.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He knew what I was sorry for. “I know. I guess I can understand the why, but the fact that you didn’t tell anyone is lost on me.”

  “Does it help if I say I regret my decision?”

  “Honestly? No.” He sighed. “Why didn’t you tell me? I didn’t think we kept secrets.”

  The look on his face spoke of the pain he’d endured since I bailed. Wondering what he’d done wrong, why I left. I averted my eyes from his intense gaze, suddenly ashamed of my nineteen-year-old self.

  “Remember The Sixth Sense with, you know, those two guys?”

  Tim nodded. “Yeah, but what—”

  “How would you have looked at me if I came to you and said, ‘Hey, Tim, guess what! I see dead people’?”

  His lips curled into a sneer. “You’ll never know, will you? You never had the decency to trust in me. Would I have believed you?” He shrugged, and the look of sadness returned. “Honestly, I don’t know. I always thought you were just goofing around, but too many things happened when you were there that I think might have helped me to accept what you said was true. Mom said she thought you were, in her words, a special young man who has an interesting road ahead of him. I suppose she was right. The day I went to your house and your mom showed me the note you left, my whole world crashed down around me. I thought….” He shook his head. “You know, it doesn’t matter. You left, and I think we both moved on.”

  I wanted him in a way that I’d never wanted another man. Not a quickie in a motel room, not exchanging blowjobs in the alley behind the bar. I wanted him to hold, to explore—maybe even to love.

  “Are you seeing anyone?” I blurted out.

  His eyes went wide and his lip curled just a bit. “How does that have anything to do with this?”

  “I just wanted to catch up on your life. I thought maybe you’d be married, have some kids, and a dog named Rover.” I swallowed hard, trying to get the lump out of my throat at the thought of him having a wife.

  He shook his head. “No one special in my life. Hasn’t been for a long time. After Mom got sick, I mostly just stayed inside. Going out and seeing people got awkward. What about you? Any ball and chain in your life?”

  I held up my hands and barked a laugh. “Absolutely not. I am totally ball-less.” My face heated like a blast furnace when I realized what I’d said. Tim, naturally, didn’t miss it either. He grinned, then burst out laughing.

  “I always thought that was true. Thank you for confirming it.” He continued to chuckle a bit longer, then went back for more coffee. Finally he sighed, put his cup down, and leaned back. “I have to ask you something. Are you going to run again?”

  “I have a job… a life in Chicago.”

  “That’s not what I asked and you know it. Now answer the question.”

  “I don’t know.” I drew in a breath. “I haven’t seen a ghost for five years. Then I get to Milwaukee, step off the train, and I—”

  Her face was etched in my memory. The fear, the confusion, the pain.

  “Really?”

  There was nothing I could do besides nod.

  “But Chicago has to have way more ghosts than Milwaukee. Why wouldn’t you see any there?”

  It was a question I’d never asked myself. As long as I didn’t see them, I didn’t care. “I don’t know.”

  He drained his cup and stood. “Want another?”

  “No, but thank you.”

  “Hey, look at me.”

  I turned my head up and found him smiling down at me.

  “We’re going to figure this out, I promise.”

  “But—”

  “Yes, I’m angry. Hurt. Pissed beyond belief. But I’m trying to see things through your eyes. I’m not sure I would have handled it any better than you. Promise me that if you go, you’ll keep in touch, okay? Don’t just disappear on me again.”

  He was worried for me? And he wasn’t going to kick me to the curb?

  “I promise.”

  “Then that’s good enough for me. If you keep being honest with me and don’t leave when things get tough, I’ll do my best to get over my feelings. Deal?” He held out a hand, which I grasped in mine.

  “Yes. Deal.”

  Tim stood there, holding my hand, staring at me.

  “Is something wrong?”

  He grinned. “No, it’s just… I honestly thought I’d never have the chance to see you again.”

  “I know I can never say how sorry I am enough, but—”

  “No, this isn’t coming from a place of hurt. I have my best friend back, and that makes me happy.” The grin morphed into a frown. “We are still best friends, right?”

  “No. You are a best friend. I’m the one who was too chickenshit to talk to you. One day I want to earn the right to call myself your best friend again.”

  “Shit.” Tim yanked me off the couch and enfolded me in his arms. “You’ve always been my best friend, Scotty. No one ever came close to being half the friend you are. You made a mistake, and we’ll be talking about that at some point, but for now? You’re home, with me. I can’t think of anything I wanted more.”

  If this moment stretched out forever, I wouldn’t complain. His body was warm, he smelled so good, and he was holding me. What more could I want out of life beyond this moment?

  “You know you’re going to have to talk to your mom, right?”

  I tried to draw back, but he held me fast.

  “You can’t get out of this one.” He chuckled, and his breathing tickled my ear. “You ran away for five years, but you’re twenty-four now, and it’s time to grow up.”

  He squeezed me again, and I relaxed into his arms.

  “You’re right.” And he was, but that didn’t mean I would let him lord it over me. “Just for the record, though? Batman over Captain America in two rounds.”

  He laughed. It wasn’t just a snicker, no. This was a full-on belly laugh. When he leaned back, he had tears in his eyes. “I missed you so fucking much.”

  And with those words, I was home.

  Chapter Four

  THE EGGS, bacon, and
toast had been delicious, but they quickly turned into a lead ball in my stomach when Tim picked up the plates and started for the kitchen.

  “You know, you need to go see your mom. You should do that today.”

  The thought had been on my mind, but I kept pushing it away, because I had been a scared, shitty son.

  “Will you come with me?”

  Tim came back into the room, a frown on his face. “I have to work. I don’t understand what you’re so nervous about. She’s your mom—it’ll be fine.”

  He couldn’t…. Seriously? I ran away. I left her to deal with the fallout of my shit, and he couldn’t understand why I was nervous?

  “Scotty, I promise you, it’s going to be okay. Will she be upset? Yeah, probably. But you’re her baby, so she’s going to find a way to forgive you. Ryan, on the other hand….”

  “What about him?”

  “He’s got two kids now. Carter, who’s two, and Samantha just turned three.”

  My brother had kids? “Oh my God, I am such a fuckup.”

  “Won’t hear me arguing.” Tim went into his bedroom, and a few minutes later, he came back out, dressed in black slacks and a white shirt with an emerald tie. I knew suit porn was a thing, but it had never done much for me. Let me just say I was now a convert! “Can I ask, do you plan on telling them?”

  “No, absolutely not. I’m going to suck it up and tell them I was kidnapped by a Russian mobster who used me as a sex slave for the last five years, and I only just escaped with the help of a daring raid by Interpol.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Look, I get not wanting to tell them, but I think you need to go and be contrite and apologize until your lips fall off.”

  He made it seem so easy to be an adult. Adulting was hard, just so you know.