by Barry Napier
“I understand,” he said. “But what are you going to do? Are you just going to go back to work? Just like that?”
“I have to,” she said. “I have to find normalcy after all of this. I have to bore myself.”
“Well, when can I see you again?”
She grinned at him and took her sunglasses off. He saw the fear in them and wished she had left them on. He couldn’t remember wanting to embrace someone so badly in all of his life.
She looked at him as sincerely as she was able, leaned across the table, and gave him a soft and brief kiss on the mouth.
“You be safe here and do what you need to do,” she said. “When you’re done, e-mail me. Don’t call. Give me the option of returning the e-mail. If I’m up to it, I’ll reply and we’ll figure this out. But for right now, all of this is just too much.”
Cooper’s heart felt like it was twisting in his chest but he managed to say “Okay,” without his voice breaking.
Stephanie stood up and opened her arms to him. He went to her and wrapped his arms around her. It brought back the year or so they had been together and made him wonder if they would have lasted if he hadn’t have so foolishly jumped headfirst into his writing. Thinking of his now-mythic book while holding her made him angry with himself.
“Don’t disappear on me again,” she said into his ear.
“I won’t,” he said. “As long as you’re going to be around.”
She made a soft laughing sound against his neck and then, with a final squeeze, she let him go and started down Mary Guthrie’s porch stairs.
Cooper watched her go. She walked in the opposite direction of the way they had come, headed for the little thoroughfares that wound between the houses. Cooper realized that she was his ride but figured that if it came down to it, he could walk the two miles to his motel.
Watching her leave, her hair blowing in the slight late morning breeze, he was aware that she was the only person alive that knew his secret. While there were two people that knew that he had returned and was no longer missing, Stephanie was the only one that knew what mission he had set himself upon. She was the only one that knew how he had his financial matters set up. With one single phone call or e-mail, she could blow his cover and get him in some very big trouble.
But he knew that she wouldn’t do such a thing. Besides, he was more worried about her disappearing on him this time. Why the hell would she want to keep up with him, tying herself to his madness in the process?
Cooper stood against the porch rail and watched her go until she angled up towards the other beach houses and headed down a stretch of unmarked blacktop that pointed back towards where she had parked her car.
Then, just like the ghosts and specters he had spent so much of his life chasing, she was there one moment and gone the next.
15
“Is everything okay?” Mary asked as Cooper came back in through the sliding glass door.
“Yeah,” Cooper said.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”
“You didn’t. This would have happened eventually anyway. But, at the risk of sounding rude, that’s not why I came back inside to speak with you.”
“Of course. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he said, picking the guest book back up. “I just need to piece this all together. You see, there’s an entry in here where someone says that they heard a young boy’s voice saying the words dark water over and over. It just so happens that those were the last words that Henry Blackstock ever spoke before he drowned.”
“Oh my God,” Mary whispered. She suddenly looked to be three shades lighter than when she had first introduced herself on the beach half an hour ago.
“Now, I’m not going to make the leap and say that Henry Blackstock’s ghost is haunting your house, but it does seem odd.”
“Wouldn’t he prefer to see his family?” she asked. “Why choose my house to roam around in the afterlife?”
Cooper didn’t know if it was the result of Stephanie’s sudden decision to leave or not, but he found Mary’s flippant attitude towards the topic aggravating. He tried to hide it, though, doing his best to stay focused.
“I don’t know,” he answered. “But I actually think there’s more to this than you might assume. And I can’t jump to any conclusions.”
“What do you mean more to this? What else should I know?”
“Nothing for now,” Cooper said. He already didn’t like the fact that he had divulged information about Henry Blackstock to this woman. He certainly didn’t see how telling her about Henry pointing towards the black rocks prior to his death would benefit her. And as for the ghoulish figure he and Stephanie had seen last night, there was absolutely no reason to share that information with her.
“Is there anything I can do to help you get answers for the Blackstocks?” Mary asked. “That’s what they want, right? Answers? They called those ghost hunting people to their home. That was all over the rumor mill around this end of the beach.”
“Yes, they need answers. But first, what can you tell me about Sam and Jenny Blackstock? Do you know them well?”
“We’re certainly not close friends or anything,” Mary said. “We wave when we pass one another. They’re considered the odd ducks on this stretch of beach because they’re the only ones that don’t routinely rent their house out for the summer.”
“Did you know them at all when their son died?”
“Yes. That was also the year I lost my husband.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“It is what it is,” she said, her flippant attitude once again coming to the surface. “He died in a car accident in November of that same year. But he actually helped out with the searches for Henry. I assume you know that his body was never found?”
“Yes.”
“Sam and Jenny mostly stayed to themselves after all of that. I haven’t had a meaningful conversation with either of them in several months.”
“That’s fine,” Cooper said. “What I’m more interested in are these.”
He handed her back the bag of Scrabble tiles, which she took like a greedy child. She reached into the bag and plucked one out, as if for dramatic effect. She held up an E tile and looked at it.
“Two years ago, I had a gentleman over,” she said. “It was odd, as it was the first man I had spent any significant time with since my husband died. We had some wine and played Scrabble. It was my way of letting him know that I wasn’t ready for anything intimate, you know? Anyway, the night went on and he left. I was tired, slightly buzzed, and feeling depressed. I went straight to bed, leaving the wine glasses and the Scrabble board on the kitchen table. I woke up the next morning to a simple message on my kitchen table. There were six tiles. Two words, one on top of the other. It said Hi Mary. If I’m being honest, it freaked me out.”
“How do you know it wasn’t something left over from when your visitor left?”
“I thought the same thing,” Mary said. “I picked the tiles up and put them in the bag. I went to the coffee maker and when I turned my back, the letters all spilled on the floor. I had set the bag on the board, near the center of the table. But somehow, they all spilled on the floor. I turned around and actually saw the tiles scattering, like invisible hands were sorting through them. I watched the tiles get sorted and several tiles got separated from the rest. This time, the message was Good Morning.”
“That was it?”
“That time, yes. Of course, I had to try it out a few more times. It was scary but my curiosity wouldn’t let it go, you know? That morning, I was too frightened. It took time, courage and a few bottles of wine before I could give it a real try.”
“And it works whenever you do it?”
“No, not every time. It seems that the old clichés are true. The ghosts—or whatever they are—seem to really only want to participate at night. I’ll sometimes get them to play early in the morning.”
“What do you talk about?”
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“Well, it’s really like a game to them. And you see, I think that whatever ghosts are visiting my house…well, none of them are Henry Blackstock. I have asked for a name before and the only one I have seen so far is Amy.”
“Amy,” Cooper said. “Spelled out in Scrabble tiles?”
“Yes.”
“What else have you asked?”
“I have asked how long she has been here and she said she didn’t know. Not sure, is actually what she spelled. I asked her how old she was and she said twelve.”
“Have you asked her if she knows she is dead?”
Mary shook her head. “It may seem silly, but I thought it might be rude.”
“Is there anything else you’ve asked and gotten a response?”
“It’s mostly small things. I have asked her what her favorite color is—it’s green—and the names of her parents. But the one thing I asked her that has always struck me as a little creepy was if she was happy here.”
“What did she say?”
“She spelled out Sometimes. And then she mixed up the letters again and spelled Scared. And then when I asked her what she was scared of, she said the dark place.”
Cooper thought about this for a while, his eyes glancing back in the direction of Mary’s sliding glass window and the beach beyond.
“Would you be willing to allow me to try it out tonight?”
“Of course. That is, if Amy doesn’t mind. I’ve had company over several times since it started happening and she doesn’t seem to want to show herself when new people are here. I’ve never tried the Scrabble trick when someone else was here, though. Again, I thought it might seem rude to her—like I was trying to train a pet or something.”
“Don’t worry,” Cooper said with a nervous grin. “If there’s a ghost here, I think they’ll warm up to me. I sort of have a knack for these sorts of things.”
***
He left Mary Guthrie’s house and walked along the beach until he could see the back of the Blackstock’s house. He had planned on just walking by, hoping to be led or inspired or…or whatever. While he wouldn’t come out and admit to himself that he was hoping for another of those psychic-like flashes, that was really what it boiled down to.
But when he saw the Blackstock’s patio, he also saw Sam sitting at their patio table. He was sipping on a cup of coffee and looking out to the sea. When he saw Cooper approaching, he gave an unenthusiastic wave and gave a motion for him to come up.
Cooper walked up the sand, across the yard, and onto the patio. He saw that Sam looked tired, his eyes glassy and his mouth drawn tight.
“Everything okay?” Cooper asked.
Sam shrugged. “Jenny’s having a bad migraine this morning,” he said. “I called into work and got permission to telecommute so I could stay here with her. I’ll start soon, I guess.”
“Does she get migraines often?”
“Not too often, but when they do hit, they can be terrible. She gets them during times of high stress. She had one for an entire week after Henry died. It started right after the service we had for him. ”
“Do you think my visit yesterday caused this one?” Cooper asked.
“It probably contributed to it. Hearing kids laughing in our house in the middle of the night isn’t helping either.”
“Did you hear it again last night?”
“No,” Sam said. “But I woke up around two or three and swore I heard footsteps.”
“I just want to make sure,” Cooper said. “If I’m infringing on your lives in any way, I’ll stop.”
“For now, we’re okay with you looking into it. You seem sort of real, you know? Those ghost hunter guys were very rigid and somber. They seemed pissed that they didn’t get any evidence. As long as you don’t get intrusive with us, we’re okay. If I’m being honest, you sort of creep me out…you know…the visions or whatever. But it’s proof that you’re the real deal, I guess.”
“I don’t know about that,” Cooper said.
They were silent for a moment as Sam sipped on his coffee and continued to stare out into the ocean.
“I met one of your neighbors this morning,” Cooper said. “Mary Guthrie. How well do you know her?”
“Pretty well, I guess. She seems nice. Her husband died a while back and she sort of disappeared from all the social circles around here. She’s hardly ever in her house because she rents it out all summer. How’d you end up meeting her?”
“I was checking out the area of beach where you guys were playing with Henry the day he died,” Cooper said.
“Find anything?”
“No,” Cooper said. He wasn’t about to tell him about the figure he had come face to face with last night. Cooper still had no idea what that figure represented and still wasn’t absolutely positive it had anything to do with Henry.
“So what else is on your agenda for the day?” Sam asked.
“I’m not sure,” Cooper said. “I’m sort of just winging this thing for right now. And as embarrassing as it might sound, I was wondering if I could maybe ask you a favor.”
“Sure.”
“I sort of got stranded without a car this morning. Do you think you could give me a ride back to my motel?”
“Sure thing,” Sam said. “Just let me slip in and tell Jenny. You can cut around the yard and just meet me out front if you want. I’d invite you through the house, but Jenny is on the couch, laid up and trying to sleep her migraine off.”
“Thanks,” Cooper said. “Let her know I hope she feels better.”
Sam went inside, leaving Cooper on the patio. As he walked down the stairs, Cooper looked out to the ocean, trying to see it in the same light as Sam. It was vast, endless and, on a day as clear as this one, majestic and beautiful. Gulls cried out and boats zipped across the water. Just another day at the beach.
But to the Blackstocks, Cooper assumed it must look different. To them, it was nothing more than one large and endless tomb that their son would remain inside forever.
16
It was hard for Cooper to imagine that the main stretch of road that connected all of the side streets and businesses would be packed in a few weeks. The traffic puttering along it as Sam carried him to the motel seemed casual at best. No one was in a hurry and there was plenty of space between every car. The beauty of the unblemished late spring morning was pristine. He wondered if it felt like this all of the time before all of the tourists came in.
“You know,” Sam said, breaking Cooper’s concentration. “I went ahead and Googled you.”
“And you still chose to give me a ride?”
“Nothing I read made me think any less of you. But it did make me wonder, though.”
“About what?”
“As far as the FBI and all of the agencies that were looking for you are concerned, you’re still missing. The general consensus is that you’re dead.”
“That’s right.”
“So why risk going so public? When you introduced yourself to me and Jenny, you didn’t even bother with a fake name.”
It was a good question, and something that Cooper had thought long and hard about after he had made all of his arrangements prior to driving out to North Carolina to start on his journey. He had nearly decided to use a fake name but, in the end, had decided against it.
“It’s really a matter of honesty,” Cooper said. “In the case of you and Jenny, I tried to imagine what parents that had lost a child would think of a man that gave them a fake name. Really, if I had have given a fake name, you could have probably done some digging on the internet and found out who I was pretty easily, right?”
“Right.”
“So then why take the risk of ruining what is already a very shaky sort of trust with complete strangers?” Cooper asked. “It simply wasn’t worth the risk.”
“Well what happens if someone decides to turn you in? What’s stopping me from giving the FBI a call and saying that not only is Cooper Reid alive and well, but investigating the death
of my son and the haunting of my house?”
“Nothing at all,” Cooper said. “Although I certainly hope you don’t plan to do that.”
Sam smiled and shook his head. “No. I’m not going to do that.”
“Thanks.”
“Just so you know, there’s quite a bit of information online that makes you sound like a rock star. I found a YouTube clip of you on FOX News talking about how the FBI didn’t take the supernatural seriously. You were on there with one of those UFO nuts.”
“I met a lot of UFO nuts in my time,” Cooper said. “The hell of it is that most of them were on to something.”
“Did you ever find any solid evidence of UFOs?”
“No.”
“Ghosts?”
“I found more than enough to back up my own beliefs, but nothing that science would ever verify.”
“So…if you don’t mind my asking, where were you for the time you were missing?”
Cooper briefly thought of the conversation he’d shared with Stephanie the night before about this very topic. His inability to answer it was maddening.
“I’m not sure,” he answered.
“For real?”
“For real.”
Whether it was the stern look on Cooper’s face or the sense of impending awkwardness within the car, Sam left it at that. Cooper took advantage of the break in conversation to do some digging. There was no subtle way to transition the conversation, so he simply asked the question that was on his mind.
“I don’t suppose there are any cave systems around here anywhere, are there?”
Sam thought about it for a moment and then shrugged. “Not that I know of. Not anymore, at least.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I don’t know the history behind it, but I think there was some sort of cavern attraction at one of the campgrounds outside of town. I’m pretty sure it’s gone belly-up, though.”
“Do you know what kind of attraction it was?” Cooper asked.
“Not really. I think it was something for the history buffs. It was about pirates landing here and hiding away from their enemies. Treasure hunts and swashbuckling and all of that.”