Brown Eyed Ghoul

by H. P. Mallory

  It was every history lover’s dream, the manifestation of all the images of another era perfectly represented, and in this case, perfectly accurate. Once I opened the magazine, However, I had a hard time concentrating on the words. I failed at reading, and obsessively checked the front of the store as well as the watch in my hands.

  “Read your magazine, mon chaton,” Drake said, his voice hushed. “You are making me anxious.”

  I blew out a puff of air and settled in, determined to try and make sense of at least one paragraph in front of me. That didn’t go well, so I resigned myself to flipping through the pages and reading the captions beneath the photographs.

  “I think it might be time to, ahem,” a pause for emphasis, “get going,” Drake said as he leisurely folded up his newspaper.

  Before I knew it, I looked up from the magazine toward the front of the bookstore. Sure enough, Dorothy was standing there, chatting with another friend. It looked like they were in the process of saying goodbye.

  “Remember, mon chaton,” he said, his voice low, “whatever happens, we must not intervene.”

  As if he were still in my head, Drake sensed my nervousness about what was going to happen. I intended to ask how long she’d been standing out there, but only managed to say, “Oh!” as I scrambled to my feet.

  Drake rose off the bench much more gracefully, taking my arm with a smirk and staring at me for a beat longer than necessary.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Later, ma minette.”

  With that, we were off again. I recalled the article we read about Dorothy’s friend; she had just been talking with the last person who saw her before she disappeared. And now she continued down Twenty-Seventh Street, moving further away from Fifth Avenue, and away from her home.

  The hair beneath the brim of my hat grew damp with cold sweat as we followed her at a distance. Somehow, even with the freezing wind on our faces, seeping through any cracks in our clothing, I was still hot, and sweating. My hand that was unattached to Drake was shaking, and I pulled it up closer to my chest. This was it. What it all came down to. Would Dorothy be fatally mugged somewhere? The criminal realizing too late she was pregnant? Would he somehow save the baby? Or was she the victim of a tragic accident? Possibly getting hit by one of those old cars? That would better explain what happened to the baby. Someone could have been overwhelmed with guilt, but being a good person nonetheless, possibly saved the infant when they discovered the victim was pregnant. What if I’d gotten it completely wrong though? Maybe something much more horrific was about to occur…

  We walked several blocks, my head swimming with possibilities as I tried to prepare myself for the worst. Drake began to slow down as the streets became less crowded. When Dorothy rounded a corner and suddenly ducked out of sight, Drake craned his head to look for traffic before tugging me across the street with him. We walked quickly and quietly, the tension between us palatable. We slowed when we came to the corner where Dorothy turned and I followed Drake’s lead. As a couple, we tried to appear as if we were out for a stroll, even though by then, my feet were aching. The chilly air finally crept under my coat, and I cooled down quickly thanks to all my nervous sweating.

  As we came around the corner, a rush of relief flooded me. Dorothy was right in front of us, although she had almost a two-block lead. When she turned another corner, my anxiety came back with a vengeance.

  “Is she trying to lose us?” I whispered to Drake.

  “Non,” he said, “I don’t think she’s even noticed us.”

  Then why did she seem to be in such a rush?

  Drake picked up the pace again, but this time, when we came around the corner, she was gone. Even more ominous, the street was completely deserted.

  “No!” I whispered.

  Drake pulled me to a stop and paused, listening. “Over there,” he said, pointing to a narrow alleyway across the street.

  I barely heard the sound of an old car’s engine rumbling.

  Dropping all pretenses, we jogged across the street to the alleyway. We arrived just in time to see the car when it pulled away with Dorothy sitting in the back seat; we both stopped.

  “I was afraid something like this would happen,” Drake said. “Merde!”

  “And not a cab in sight, of course,” I groaned.

  “The license plate,” Drake said. “Do you have something to write with, ma minette?” he asked in a rush of concern.

  “Yes,” I answered, fumbling with my bag. I got it open and pulled out the map I brought of New York along with a pen.

  “It’s 176-54,” Drake said and I wrote it down.

  “Is that right?” I asked, holding the paper out for Drake to verify the numbers.

  “Oui,” he answered with a quick glance, before he looked at me. “Now we just need to look up the registered owner of the vehicle.”

  TEN

  Two hours later, we were in the public records building, sifting through papers. Already, my stomach was rumbling, my legs and feet were sore, and my neck ached from trying to balance the monstrosity I wore atop my head.

  “Here!” Drake said, holding back a stack of pages so that one was visible.

  The number typed across the top matched the license plate number, and beside it in scrolled handwriting was the name, “Thomas Dickerson” along with his address.

  “Hmmm. I don’t remember seeing his name in any of the articles,” I said as I examined the unfamiliar name next to the numbers. “Do you?”

  “Non,”

  “Wish they had his cell,” I said dryly as I jotted down his information. I handed it to Drake who was so caught up in the chase, he didn’t even acknowledge my joke.

  As he studied the name, he rubbed the five o’clock stubble on his chin, accenting the angles of his handsome jaw. I wondered what it would feel like under my fingertips. Or against my face. Or between my thighs. It was a thought so instantaneous and lustful that I nearly blushed. Thank God he wasn’t inside my head!

  What the hell was wrong with me? I shook the scandalous thoughts from my head, conjuring up Ryan’s smile and sunny eyes. It wasn’t a crime to be attracted to another man, right? I mean, I couldn’t help it even if it were. All that really mattered was that I kept my hands to myself. And I knew I could do that. I’d always resisted my urges in the dreamscapes anyway so how could this really be any different? I mean, it felt real but it wasn’t, right? This was just happening in my mind and Drake’s ghost was only there because he traveled back in time with me. Or maybe it wasn’t in my mind; maybe it was my spirit. Regardless, the best way for me to think about it was by denying that it was real, so it didn’t matter.

  “It has been a while since my travels to this city,” Drake said, bringing me back to what we were doing. I inwardly kicked myself for wasting time with my mental debate when the fate of our mission hinged on what we were doing and how fast we could get it done.

  “But I believe he lives on the edge of town. I think it will take at least forty minutes to get there. Maybe even longer with traffic.”

  “What do we do if Dorothy and Thomas aren’t there?” I gazed into Drake’s eyes and his penetrated mine with an intensity that jolted my insides.

  “We wait.”

  Ignoring the sharp stone lodged in my stomach, I cracked my knuckles and tilted my head to each side, trying to pop my neck into alignment. “All right. Let’s do this.”

  ***

  We walked back to Fifth Avenue and quickly hailed a cab. Drake gave the driver the address, and we took off. Though we weren’t going fast, I was slightly terrified to discover there weren’t any seatbelts. I edged closer to Drake in the over-sized, well-cushioned seats. Almost as if on cue, he gave me a casual smile before taking my hand and looping my arm under his. I expected him to drop my hand then, but he didn’t. Instead, he sat holding it, acting as if it were perfectly natural.

  Maybe I should have pulled my hand away, and part of me wanted to pull it from his grasp, but I didn’t.
I distracted myself from the warm sensation of his hand by looking out the windows at the buildings and all the people. It was next to impossible though. The man had been inside my head for months now, but I’d never felt my skin pressed against his before and never for this long. I feared my palms would grow sweaty. Thank God we couldn’t really talk; I would have been all kinds of awkward. I’m sure Drake would have just loved that.

  Listening to the rumbling din from the car engine, I started to loosen up and my mind wandered to our next move as I watched the vivid scenes from New York in 1910 playing out before my eyes. There was more traffic, on the street and on foot, when the work day came to an end. The women wore big, flowered hats like mine and Dorothy’s, and the men wore black top hats to match their black coats and shoes. Without really thinking about it, my eyes searched for a hat that looked like Dorothy’s amongst the crowd.

  I wondered where she was. If she hadn’t gone to Thomas’s house, what were the odds that we could find her? We could wait for him to return, of course, but if he came back without her, then what? What would our story be? She obviously hadn’t told anyone where she was going. If she had, someone would know precisely where she was and why she went there. That made it hard for us to come up with a credible story for who we were and why we were so interested in her whereabouts.

  Before long, the cab driver pulled up to the street in front of some townhouses that looked considerably smaller. They were also older and more worn down than the ones on Dorothy’s street.

  Drake took out a large bill and held it up to the cab driver. “You can keep the change if you don’t mind waiting for a short period of time, and giving us some privacy.”

  Drake’s deep, chocolate eyes met the bright blue ones of the driver’s and I tried not to blush but I did, right down to my toes. Drake was certainly not suggesting we intended to get it on in the back of the cab, but quite obviously, the driver assumed that was the case.

  The two men stared at one another, and the driver considered Drake’s proposition. “Okay,” he finally said with a sly smile as he took the money. “I’ll be in that bar on the corner over there,” he added as he pointed to the bar and opened the door to get out. Then he apparently thought better of it because he turned back around to face Drake. “You get any ideas about stealin’ this automobile, an’ I’ll have the police force on top o’ you sooner than you can say you’re sorry.”

  “I have no intention of stealing your automobile, sir,” Drake answered quickly. “I can assure you of that.” Then he looked over at me and back at the man like the man should’ve clearly observed what Drake’s priorities were: me! I cleared my throat in indignation as Drake turned to face me with an innocent smile and an even more innocent shrug.

  “Better not,” the man continued. “I got lots of friends who work in the police force.”

  “I’m sure you do,” Drake finished before he reached inside his pocket and pulled out another wad of folded bills. “Take this, good sir, if it helps alleviate some of your worries.”

  The man accepted the money and counted it before facing Drake with a quick nod and turning around to exit the car again. He closed the door behind him and shoved his hands into his pockets as he headed for the bar on the corner.

  Though the engine loudly idled, I was acutely aware that I was alone with Drake. We were parked on a street with no other people except for the driver who was hastily walking away from us. I could feel where Drake’s knee rested beside mine. Neither one of us spoke; we were too busy watching the driver as he disappeared into the bar.

  “What time is it, mon amour?”

  I pulled the watch out of my handbag. “Five forty-nine.”

  “I will go knock on Thomas’s door, you stay here, ma minette. Get in the front seat in case you need to get away quickly.”

  “Uh-uh. I’m going with you,” I said. Drake opened his mouth to argue, but I cut him off. “It’s kind of pointless for me to wait in the car.” I held up a hand when he tried again to say something. “Besides, if Thomas is up to no good, and you’re alone, you’ll probably revert to cop mode, which would tip him off. If I’m with you, on the other hand, it will seem less intimidating.”

  Drake shut his mouth and slowly smiled. “Okay, mon chaton. Since you seem to have all the answers, what is our cover story?”

  I bit my bottom lip as I thought about it. “What if we say we’re friends of Dorothy, and we saw her get into Thomas’s car and…”

  “I was thinking we could say a mutual acquaintance told us to look here. We could say we saw her drop some money earlier today when she was out walking and we simply wanted to return it.” He pulled out a couple of bills, folding them into my hand.

  I shrugged. “Works for me.”

  Drake opened the door and stepped out of the car before offering me his hand. I gratefully accepted any assistance as the boots and heavy layers of clothing I wore failed to grant me any favors in the grace department. Once I was out of the car, the air brought the chill back to my cheeks, but I hardly felt it. My heart was pounding in my chest as we walked across the street and up the steps to the door of the house.

  Wasting no time, Drake knocked loudly on the door.

  I bounced up and down on my heels, glancing behind us every so often to see if anyone were around or watching us. Not one person was out. The houses were so dreary and dim, it seemed like the whole place was deserted. It certainly didn’t have the vibe of a cheerful neighborhood full of families.

  Drake shifted his weight, taking a small step toward me, and knocked again, only louder this time. Then he leaned back and looked in the windows. The house remained still and quiet.

  “It appears no one is home,” Drake finally said. “And apparently, hasn’t been for a long time.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, the desperation creeping into my voice.

  “There is no furniture. And lots of dust.” After a pause, Drake said, “Let’s go wait in the car where it’s warm.”

  I followed him to the car and when we got to it, he opened the door for me. I climbed in, and Drake slid in next to me. He shut the door and fiddled with some levers by the steering wheel.

  “I’m sorry we have no blanket this time, ma minette.” He looked at me, one eyebrow rising suggestively.

  When we had to stake out the Axeman the last time we time traveled, it was also quite cold, but we had enough time to prepare for it and Drake remembered to bring a warm, fur blanket.

  “Underneath all these clothes, I’m more than fine,” I said.

  Drake looked back at the buildings in front of us, but I knew he was still focused on me. “Let me know if you feel chilled.”

  I cleared my throat and tried to act unannoyed, but the truth was, he disappointed me by remaining such a respectable distance from me.

  “So how long do we wait?” I asked, trying to ignore my urge to scoot closer to him.

  Drake sighed as he gazed at Thomas Dickerson’s house. “I do not know, ma minette,” he answered with a sigh. “We wait as long as we can. If this attempt fails, we should go back to the hotel and secure accommodations for the night.”

  I gulped at the thought of that, and for a moment, I didn’t know what to say. Thankfully, or not, hunger noises rumbled from my stomach that sounded remarkably similar to humpback whale songs. That broke the silence. They were so loud that Drake actually chuckled.

  “After we make our reservations, we’ll be sure to stop by the dining room.” He looked out over the hood of the car. “And then I think I know where we might find some leads.”

  “Oh?” I asked, perking up at hearing that.

  “Yes, although I’m not sure you should come with me, mon chaton.”

  I lowered my chin as I gave him a pointed look. “Why?”

  Drake shrugged. “I was thinking a visit to the bar at the end of the street might be rewarding. Judging by its proximity to this house, that is the next logical place to look for further information.”

  My br
ow furrowed and I opened my mouth to protest, but Drake cut me off almost as if he knew exactly what I was going to say.

  “The establishments that would have the most helpful crowd are no place for…”

  “Oh, please!” I rolled my eyes. “Do you know how many frat parties I frequented back in the day? And then, my biggest worry was roofies.”

  “Roof…ies?” Drake said the word slowly, as he always did when he was learning a trendy, new word.

  It made me smile, but at the same time, I felt sad. How could I miss hearing Drake’s voice inside my head when I had him sitting right in front of me?

  “Never mind,” I waved him off. “And I’m going with you.”

  Drake eyed me before making a long sigh and replying, “As you wish, mon chaton. As you wish.”

  “Should we go there now?” I asked.

  “Non,” Drake answered with a quick shake of his head. “Not with the driver in there. I believe we should wait another hour or so for this Dickerson character to appear. If he does not, we should secure our accommodations for the night before revisiting the saloon.”

  “Saloon?” I repeated with a laugh. “Isn’t that where cowboys went in the Old West?”

  “Apparently, not,” Drake answered, his eyebrows rising upward haughtily.

  We were quiet for a while after that, both of us lost in our thoughts.

  “Where were you?” I turned to Drake and saw his raised eyebrows. “Or are you? I should say. The…” I gestured with my hands, “…physical you? In 1910?”

  He leaned back and inhaled as he considered my question and I watched the way his broad chest expanded with fresh oxygen.

  “I was in the process of becoming an officer of the law…”

  I thought he was going to say more, but he stayed quiet after his voice trailed off. His eyes gleamed with nostalgia.

  “When did you become an officer?”

  “In the fall of 1910. Just a few months prior to now.” Drake turned and studied my face, his eyes landing on mine. Neither of us made any move to get closer, but it suddenly felt as though we were much too close. I could smell his cologne and feel the warmth that radiated from his body.