Enter If You Dare

by Alyson Larrabee

  “Nice job, Matt. Now what do you suppose that means?”

  “Sorry, dude, I didn’t know she was with you.”

  “Well she is. Annabelle’s my number one fan, so hands off.”

  Raising both his hands in a gesture of surrender, Matt stumbles backwards. “Okay, okay. I get it.”

  Because Matt’s pretty drunk and he’s walking backwards, he trips over someone’s foot, bumps into another partier and almost goes down.

  I turn to my self-appointed rescuer. “I could’ve handled that myself you know, Batman.”

  “Yeah, but we’re in a hurry, so I expedited the situation.”

  “‘Read the shirt.’ Nice one.”

  “I think so...I like that shirt. Now let’s go. I already told your friends you’re coming with me.”

  “Not a chance.”

  Wyatt lowers his face until his lips bump against my ear. “Listen carefully, Annabelle, because I’m going to give you a choice.”

  I can’t see his mouth because it’s smooshed up against my ear, but he sounds like he’s speaking through gritted teeth.

  “You can take my hand peacefully and follow me out of this party right now. Or I’ll sling you over my shoulder and haul you out of here. I’ll announce to everyone that you’re too drunk to walk and I’m giving you a sober ride home.”

  “That’s a hell of a choice.” I back away from him and stare bravely up into his gunmetal gray eyes. He wraps one of his huge hands around my right arm, ducks his shoulder and aims it toward my waist. I make up my mind.

  “Okay, okay. I get it. You can stop going all Neanderthal on me.”

  Seething hotter than the inside of a parked car in July, I wriggle my arm out of his grip and place my hand in his. He straightens up to his full height, turns around and tows me through the crowd. When we finally reach the door, Wyatt yanks me out into the night.

  I wrench my hand out of his and push him away. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  He takes one step toward me. “Why not, Annabelle? I thought we were friends.”

  He pronounces the word “friends” like it tastes bad in his mouth and he needs to spit it out.

  “Well, we’re not. We’re business associates. We’re conducting a paranormal investigation together. After it’s over, our association is, too.” I stand my ground and face off with him from about six inches away.

  Wyatt’s complexion darkens to the shade of an over-ripe pomegranate. The whites of his full-blown eyes stand out in startling contrast to his slate irises and reddening flesh. His hands are clenched into pale-knuckled fists. If he were thirty years older I’d worry that he was having a heart attack. Aiming a thunderous stare at me, he grits his teeth so hard that his right cheek starts to twitch.

  Finally he sucks in a deep breath and blows it out slowly. His face cools to a healthier color. He widens the space between his clenched teeth just enough to speak.

  “You told Colleen Foley that we’re friends and that you’re only nice to me because my uncle and your mom know each other.”

  “They do know each other.”

  “And that’s why we’re always together? Because your mother makes you act like you’re my friend?”

  “All right, so that’s not entirely true. We really are friends and it’s not just because my mom knows Oliver and it’s not only because of the ghost any more. We’re really friends, but just friends. Now can I go find Ryan and Meg before they head home without me? Then you can hook up with Colleen and give her a ride home.”

  He grabs my wrist. “No, Annabelle. You’re not getting off that easy. You’re gonna talk to me and we’re gonna straighten this out now. First of all, we’re a hell of a lot more than friends, whether or not you admit it.”

  “Bullshit.”

  He ignores me and keeps going. “Second of all. Colleen’s been coming on to me since the first day of school. But I don’t want to hang out with her. And I have no plans what-so-ever to hook up with her. The only reason she’s left me alone lately is because she thought you and I were together. Now that she thinks we’re…” He drops my hand, shoves his face down close to mine again and air-quotes “‘just friends,’ she’s never going to leave me alone. Colleen was all over me tonight thanks to you!”

  “You loved having her all over you! You kissed her!”

  “She kissed me! On the cheek, Annabelle! I was being polite and trying to get away from her.”

  “Bullshit!”

  Wyatt’s jaw drops open and he guffaws. Then he shuts his mouth and puts his hand over it. When he uncovers his mouth, an obnoxious smile creeps across his face. I liked him better when he was gritting his teeth and turning red.

  “Damn it, Annabelle! You’re jealous!”

  “Why would I be jealous? On a good day, we’re…” I shove my face up close to his and air-quote “’just friends.’” I’m not jealous! You’re free to make out with Colleen anytime. I’m leaving right now with Meg. So get the hell out of my way!”

  But Wyatt doesn’t step out of the way. He grabs me by the shoulders and sneers into my face. “D’you know why everyone thinks we’re together? Because we’re always together! We do everything together!”

  “We do not!” Even to myself I sound like a whiny, mad little kid in a playground fight.

  “Yes, we do! We do everything together except this…” His hands loosen so they’re cupping my shoulders gently, as he stoops down and presses his mouth against mine.

  Wyatt’s lips feel remarkably soft considering that they were clamped together in barely controlled rage less than a minute ago. He tastes deliciously warm and sweet. I’ve never been this close to him before. His skin smells like clover and mint growing in a sunlit meadow. Gently, he grips my waist and pulls me closer.

  My arms reach up and around his neck even though I didn’t tell them to. Our lips stay connected as he hugs me against him and lifts my feet off the ground. Moving backwards, Wyatt slowly staggers over to one of the Allen’s lawn chairs, sits down and gathers me onto his lap. I sink into the incredible melting heat of him, better than the first warm spring sun on your face, better than a bubbling Jacuzzi. Body and soul, Wyatt Silver surrounds me. And I can’t think anymore. I can only feel.

  He’s worse. A quiet sound, like a sigh, rolls around deep inside of his throat for a few seconds. Shifting sideways, he nudges me off his lap and we stretch out together, on the lounge chair. I strive to move all of me closer to him, like everything green grows toward the sun.

  Gradually, his mouth breaks free from mine for the first time since this madness began and he kisses my cheek, my earlobe and my neck before going back to my lips. The smell and feel and taste of him tumble over and around me, like clothes inside a hot dryer.

  Finally, I realize that the night dew from the Allen’s lawn has soaked through my pants. At some point we must’ve rolled off the chair onto the grass. Wyatt’s sprawled beside me, still holding me and kissing me. It’s a miracle I didn’t break a tooth. Gently, I disconnect my mouth from his and he finds his voice, but it’s hoarse.

  “Friends my ass, Annabelle.”

  And I smile. My ass is resting solidly on the damp ground but my heart shoots up into the night sky and soars over the moon. We kiss again—but only for a minute because we have to escape before the cops arrive.

  Chapter 16

  The Surprise

  Hand in hand, we run across the street, to where Wyatt’s old, white Land Rover’s parked. He opens the passenger’s side door for me and I jump in. Then he runs around and hops into the driver’s seat. Laughing, he leans over and steals one more quick kiss. Then he starts up the engine and a quiet, acoustic tune floats out from the radio. Easing my seat back a little so I can relax, I exhale in relief. Tonight was fun, but the excitement’s over now and we’re alone together, peaceful; no loud music and dancing mob, no party cups filled with vodka and worrying about the police. No Colleen Foley. No Matt Riley.

  “It’s still early. Let’s go to my ho
use,” Wyatt suggests. “We can talk to Oliver. He’s been researching our ghost.”

  “Everyone keeps saying he’s my ghost. It’s a relief to share him. ‘Our ghost,’ I like the sound of it.”

  “I don’t think we have a choice. He belongs to both of us now. Anyway, Oliver has some information and some ideas about how to find out more.”

  “Okay, but I’d like to be in bed by midnight. We have practice at eight tomorrow morning and we’re taking the bus into Boston so we can go over the course for the race next weekend—the Coaches’ Invitational in Franklin Park.”

  “Maybe I’ll come to the race. Cheer for my girlfriend.”

  His girlfriend.

  That happened fast, but I don’t argue. Instead, my lips widen into a smile that surprises even me. I kind of like being referred to as his girlfriend. I could get used to it.

  “Don’t you have soccer practice on Saturdays?”

  “Yes, but I haven’t missed one yet this season, so I can skip it. This is important. I’ve never seen you run, except for just now, dodging the cops.”

  “Not really. I didn’t see any cops. We escaped early enough.”

  “Just as I was opening the door for you, I saw a flashing blue light over on Prospect Street, heading toward Carolyn’s.”

  “No way! We really were dodging the cops?”

  “Yup, sweet little Annabelle Blake, varsity athlete, honor student, running from the law.”

  “Not quite an honor student.”

  “That’s right. I’ve noticed how you never know when there’s a test or a quiz in History class, which probably means you don’t study much.”

  “See, I’m a real bad-ass…poor organizational skills and caught on video tape fleeing the scene of a crime.”

  “Try no organizational skills. And lucky for you there’s no videotape. I’m the only eye witness. And my lips are sealed.” He lets go of the steering wheel with one hand and draws a finger across his lips. Then smiles. “We’re here.”

  Wyatt pulls into Oliver’s driveway, shifts into park and turns the engine off. Before I can open the door, he puts his hand on my shoulder. “Hold on a minute, Annabelle.”

  Half a second after his lips form these words they’re on mine like he’s starving. Like he hasn’t kissed me in a year. I hug my arms around his neck and pull him as close as I can in the cramped front seat.

  He leans over me and at the same time, reaches down with his left hand and pushes the lever to lower the back of my seat. It plummets down with a jerk and he lifts his mouth up to laugh before he places it back on mine again, melting me like a chocolate bar in someone’s pocket on a summer’s day. I move a few inches to the right, to make room for him beside me. He tries to climb onto my seat, struggling to find a comfortable position.

  All through this whole time he’s still kissing me. Our lips hardly ever lose their connection. He can’t get his arms around me or find a place to put his legs. We readjust ourselves a couple of times, but it’s way too difficult for someone who’s six foot three to make out in a vehicle. Either Wyatt’s butt or his foot or something hits the horn and we jolt apart.

  Oliver’s front door opens and Jeff runs out of the house, barking his head off.

  “Nice one, Romeo. Try explaining this to your uncle.”

  “Hey, even Oliver thinks we’re together. Which means he won’t be surprised if he catches us kissing.”

  “Yeah, but a simple kiss doesn’t blast the horn like that.”

  “Good point. I guess I better cool it when we’re in the car.”

  “Right here in the driveway, too. What will the neighbors say?”

  “They’ll say that Oliver Finn’s nephew is one lucky dude.”

  I punch him in the arm.

  “Ouch.” He rubs his arm for a second, grins and points toward the house.

  Oliver’s standing on the front walkway with Jackson and they’re both laughing their asses off. They wave to us then turn and walk back in with Jeff following, wagging his humongous tail.

  I push my tousled hair back, away from my face, and we both get out of the car. Wyatt helps me smooth my damp, rumpled clothes back into their rightful places, picks a couple of blades of grass out of my hair and chuckles. Putting his arms around my waist, he steals one more kiss.

  While we’re walking through the front door together, he says, “I have a little something planned for tonight. Nathaniel’s going to help me. It’s all gonna be good.”

  “What’s all going to be good?” Nathaniel calls out, from inside the living room.

  “You know, Nathaniel, tonight. We’re going to try it out—the séance.”

  “What? I’m not ready for this.” Shoving Wyatt’s hand off of my waist, I try to turn around and run back outside. But he stops me by blocking the doorway to the hall.

  “Just hear us out, Annabelle. Come in and talk to Oliver and Nathaniel. It’s not as weird as it sounds.”

  I’m having trouble denying him anything tonight; especially when I look into his face and read the history of his loneliness.

  “I’ll listen, but I’m not promising anything.”

  Nathaniel speaks up. “We talked to your mother. She’ll come over if you want her to.”

  “No, I’ll be okay. I just need a minute. You guys really sprung this on me. I feel trapped. Like all of you were lying in wait and everyone knows everything except me. Even my mother’s in on it. You can start explaining any time now.”

  Nathaniel begins. “I promise nothing bad will happen. I’ve done this kind of thing tons of times before. We’ll all sit right here.”

  I look around Oliver’s ordinary living room and see five comfortable chairs, arranged in a circle. One of the chairs is Nathaniel’s wheelchair and he’s already sitting in it. Jeff’s lying over by the fire, snoozing.

  Nathaniel continues. “We don’t need to hold hands or sit around a table or anything like you see in the movies. We can even keep our eyes open. All of us will focus, however, on the boy from Wild Wood Hospital, the ghost you saw in room 209. Oliver can give you some background. He and Jackson have been researching the events surrounding the closing of the hospital in 1986. They think they’ve uncovered some information related to what you’ve been experiencing, Annabelle.”

  Nathaniel nods in Oliver’s direction and Oliver starts in.

  “I remember when the hospital closed, although there wasn’t a lot in the newspapers. It wasn’t a big story. There were some problems with government funding in the early eighties. I searched the archives of the local papers from around the time the hospital closed down for good. About a month before the official closing, a patient died; a thirteen-year-old boy. There was no investigation into his death. He must have died of natural causes. Only his young age made his death unusual and noteworthy.”

  “He was only thirteen?” It seems so tragically young.

  “Yes. The obituary was short and pretty uninformative, though. Probably because his family had abandoned him at the hospital. That happened a lot. Families just dumped their mentally-ill relatives off and never visited them. Never saw them again. We think this boy’s parents admitted him to the hospital and then neglected him, even leaving him to be buried by his caretakers when he died.”

  “I remember reading about stuff like that when Meg and I were doing the research for our film.”

  “Anyway, I assume the poor boy had no connection with his family anymore, so there was no one to kick up a fuss when he died. The event of his death wasn’t considered newsworthy. The hospital probably tried to keep the whole thing pretty low key. Jackson and I looked at all of the local papers’ online archives. We only found one article about the incident. Evidently, an anonymous source leaked something to the press. Someone who worked at the hospital contacted a reporter and told him the dead boy had shared a room with a violent patient who may have killed him.”

  “That’s pretty shocking and I would think newsworthy.”

  “I know. This one reporter la
tched onto the story and tried to make something out of it. But he couldn’t prove much of anything. There was no record that the dead boy had even had a roommate. The article ended by revealing the only officially documented fact about the child’s death. He had died during an epileptic seizure, a condition for which he was being treated at the hospital. The seizure could have been the result of a violent encounter with another patient. But nobody could find any evidence or proof. The dead boy’s name was Daniel Warren.”

  “Do you think that Daniel Warren is our ghost?”

  “Hold on, Annabelle, let me finish.”

  “Sorry. I know I get too impatient sometimes.”

  “It’s okay. We’re all anxious to uncover the facts. Shortly after Daniel’s death, a writer from Boston Magazine decided to do a story about New England’s psychiatric hospitals and he visited Wild Wood. He exposed the overcrowding problem and the administrators’ disastrous solution. The hospital was housing nonviolent patients and violent patients in the same rooms. The whole situation had been kept pretty quiet until then. Whether this practice directly contributed to Daniel Warren’s death or not, the article drew attention to the hospital. State investigators stepped in and found out that somebody in charge had made some bad decisions. As a result of the investigation, Wild Wood lost a lot of its government funding, along with some grant money, and the hospital soon closed.”

  Oliver’s story makes sense when I think about what’s been happening with Wyatt and me and our ghost. So I try again. “You still haven’t answered my question, Oliver. Do you think I found the spirit of Daniel Warren?”

  The Lonesome Boy might finally have a name.

  Nathaniel answers me. “We want to contact the ghost and ask him. Oliver, Jackson and I have been talking with Wyatt and we want to try channeling his spirit through Wyatt again, here tonight in a controlled setting. We want to ask your ghost some questions.”

  At this point my curiosity wins out. Fascination with the paranormal got me into this predicament and recent events have turned my passion into a love/hate relationship. But the love side still thrills me. I’ve never felt so enthusiastic about a school project before or since Meg and I filmed at Wild Wood. And now I want to know more about the haunting. My mother feels okay about me participating in the séance and I trust Oliver. He and Jackson make an excellent research team. Nathaniel has a lot of experience with the paranormal and he’s a good mentor for Wyatt. I know Oliver would never let his nephew do anything truly dangerous, so I decide I’m in.