Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
HAUNT WATER
By
Leigh Selfman
COPYRIGHT 2016 by Leigh Selfman
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher or writer, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
CHAPTER ONE
"Arden! Guess what!" Lilly is speaking so loudly into my ear that I have to pull the receiver away.
"What,” I say as I reach around underneath the sofa and find Trevor’s toy. I toss it across the room and he goes scurrying after it.
"Welllllll,” Lilly says, dragging out the word. “My friend, Devon Wade, the indie film director? He finally read your script and he wants to hire you!"
“Really?” With the phone clutched in my hand, I sit back, barely breathing.
Can it be? My big break is finally happening? My heart is pounding so loudly in my chest that I have to force myself to talk over it.
"Are you serious Lilly? Don't toy with my delicate emotions."
"Totally sherioush." Lilly now sounds like she’s something like peanut butter on the other end of the line. Her words come out slow and thick and gooey. “He wash really intrigued by the whole ghost-whispering aspect of it. Jush couldn’t put it down."
"Really?" I take a deep breath, not wanting to let myself get too excited. I refuse to let myself celebrate until the money is actually in the bank.
But then again...
"Oh my gosh! Yay!" I scream and jump off the couch.
This startles Trevor who barks and lunges at my feet. "So does he want to buy it? Or just option it? Does he want to direct it or just produce it? I can’t believe it. I'm going to be rich and famous!" I plop back onto the couch. "My life is finally on the right track!"
"Actually...he really liked the script bu..."
"No!" I scream. " No buts! No big buts!”
"What? What does this have to do with your big butt?"
"Not my big butt. The big but.” I frown and look down, trying to twist around. "Do you really think I have a big butt?”
"Arden. Focus.”
"Right. Okay. Okay. I'm just saying that I can’t handle any more of those big buts as in, 'we love your script but...' and then they tell you why they can’t make your movie. It's the story of my life. It's why I am forced to eat so much chocolate to overcome my sadness. In a way you could say it is the cause of my slightly big butt."
"Okay," Lilly says, "Well I don't want to add to your self-pity-fest, but..." she pauses. “The thing is, Devon doesn't want to hire you as a screenwriter."
"Oh."
So much for my big break.
"Well what does he want to hire me as? I'm not an actress."
"Like I said, he was really into the whole ghost hunting aspect of your story. And I told him that it was all based on a true story and so now...” she pauses for effect. “He wants to hire you as a ghost hunter!"
"What?”
"A ghost hunter! He's filming a movie on a boat somewhere, like the marina or the Port of Los Angeles or something. And his production might have to shut down because his crew keeps having all these weird accidents. So anyway…he thinks the ship is haunted and he wants you to be his ghost-whisperer. Though in your case it would be more of a ghost shouter."
"But...I came to Hollywood to be a screenwriter. That whole ghost experience was a one-time thing."
"Yeah. But I figured that since you're between temp jobs right now...I mean, I just thought you'd take any job you could get."
I sigh and reach for the candy bar I have hidden for emergencies just such as this.
Ghost hunting. It's too ridiculous. There’s absolutely no way I can do it.
CHAPTER TWO
Though my last haunting was pretty scary, it has nothing on my bank statements – which frighten me more and more every day. I decide I have no choice but to talk to the director about the ghost hunting job. After all, it is a job. And it could be a good film connection.
And who knows? Maybe if I can cure this guy’s ghost problem he'll be open to working with me in other more cinematic ways.
So I call Devon Wade, the director, who– after emailing me a nondisclosure form, which I sign and send back to him – tells me a little bit about his ghost issues.
Apparently, several odd accidents have occurred on the set of his new movie, and he believes they’re being caused by the ghost of a guy with longish blonde hair who died on the same boat many years ago. The crew is spooked and production will be put on hold unless someone can get to the bottom of what's going on.
He tells me he thinks I might be just the person to do it.
Ha!
We set up a meeting nevertheless, and I agree to come to him at 5 PM on the boat, to give him my 'impressions' of the situation.
The only problem is, what I told Lil
ly was right. Except for my one recent ghostly roommate situation, I have absolutely no ghost-hunting, ghost-whispering, ghost-anything experience.
So, clearly, I have no choice – I have to fake it.
For research I check Netflix and find several hours of a ghost hunting series which I force myself to watch in order to get up to date on all the latest ghost-hunting terms.
I make myself a big bowl of buttery popcorn and sit down to my ghost-hunting-movie-marathon, wishing my cute neighbor/ boyfriend were here to watch it with me. But alas, he is off working. So I snuggle up with my scruffy mutt, Trevor, instead.
But Trevor only seems to want me for my popcorn - he keeps trying to stick his wet nose into the bowl, or directly into my mouth. So I put him down on the floor and throw his squeaky toy across the room to distract him.
Then I watch the show, rolling my eyes endlessly as the ghost hunters run around claiming to see this or that and to hear and feel invisible things which they say are evidence of ghostly activity.
It all seems pretty basic and I don’t think I’ll have any problem imitating their schtick.
So at 5pm, feeling more than prepared, I say goodbye to Trevor and head out to meet the director.
CHAPTER THREE
I park my car in what appears to be the crew parking lot – judging by all the hand painted signs that say ‘crew parking’ – then I look at my watch.
Taking a deep breath, I get out of my car and head toward the boat.
Or maybe it's a ship. It's pretty big so my guess is that it's a ship, however, I am totally unversed in things marina-related, so who knows? Could be a yacht.
Everything is dark but I see movement up ahead, which turns out to be a security guard sitting in a director’s chair.
"Hi, I'm here to see Devon Wade," I say as I walk up to him.
The guard, a cute Hispanic guy in his thirties, stands up and comes over to me. "Yeah, he's not here yet. You the ghost hunter lady?"
"I guess," I say. "I mean...yes.”
He looks me over suspiciously. "Ok. You can you go on up. That is...If you dare." He gives me an intense look then laughs in an evil, "Bwahhahahah," manner.
I roll my eyes. "Thanks," I say sarcastically.
I look with trepidation at the boat. Not because I'm afraid of ghosts but because it's so big and dark and empty. And there are probably rats inside.
But I have no choice. I board.
Once on the deck of the Andrea Claire, I go down a set of stairs and into a long dark hallway. I use the flashlight on my phone to light the way as I walk, but I have no idea where to go. There are two doors on each side of the hallway, plus a single door straight ahead.
I keep walking, when I hear a strange noise coming from somewhere nearby. It sounds like heavy footsteps accompanied by the dragging of a chain.
It’s coming from the room at the end of the hall.
I stop.
I freeze in fear, staring, as the door as it slowly opens. A form fills the doorway.
I gasp.
I can't believe it. It’s a ghost. Moving towards me.
He stops. He's stares at me. In the soft light of my phone, I see him clearly for the first time. He's very good looking with long sandy blonde hair, and three days’ growth of beard. His sparkling blue eyes squint at me in the light. He's wearing an old fashioned long black coat as if out of another era.
"Stop! Don't come near!" I shout. He keeps coming, dragging some kind of chain behind him.
"Go away!" I scream.
"Whoa, chill," he says. "You're pretty high strung for a ghost hunter.”
I stare at him, wide eyed, wondering. How would the ghost know I'm a ghost hunter?
"I'm Devon," he says coming towards me, putting his hand out. "You're Arden, right? We spoke on the phone."
It takes a moment for it to register. "Oh... You're the director?"
He lets out a quick bark of laughter. "Yeah. Who'd you think I was? The ghost?"
"Ha! No of course not!" I roll my eyes. "Pssht." But I’m silently cursing that security guard for tricking me into believing that no one else was on board.
"So Arden, follow me and I'll show you where the accidents happened. But first…" Devon drops the heavy chain and uses his foot to shove it out of the way. “Sorry about that," he says with a grunt. “We’re using this old chain as the anchor for one of the scenes and for some reason the props department left it in here.”
He shoves into one of the rooms on the side of the hall and out of the way.
As he does, I peek inside and look around at a surprisingly large bedroom, or cabin, I guess it’s called. It has rich dark wood on the floors and pretty, traditional furniture. Not what I’d expect to find on a boat.
"This place is beautiful," I say.
"Yeah, isn't it?" Devon says with an admiring glance. “It has a lot of character. We had to bring in a lot of our own furniture since the boat was pretty torn apart, but we tried to keep it as authentic as possible. We were lucky to get the boat where the actual story took place.”
I nod and follow him back down the hall towards the single room at the end of the corridor. He opens the door and goes inside.
I follow him into a surprisingly large bedroom with wood-paneled walls and curtains on the windows. There’s a king sized bed on one side of the room with nightstands on either side of it, and on the other side of the room is a sofa with a coffee table and two big chairs in front of it.
“The problem is,” he continues. “We’ve been having a lot of mishaps. The worst was in here. We were filming over here." He goes over to the far end of the room towards the sofa. "The two actors were sitting right here. When all of a sudden the big key light that was clamped up here, just came crashing down. It could have killed Buck, our lead, or really burned him. Luckily it just missed him though. But it sure gave everyone a big scare."
“Buck as in...?”
“Yeah. Buck Ames.”
“Wow. The Buck Ames?”
I tell myself to focus. But that's a little hard to do when you’re standing on the set of a movie starring one of the hottest actors in Hollywood.
"So um... how do you know it wasn't just human error or...sabotage?” I ask.
“Because a bunch of us were standing around the monitor over here.” He moves back towards the bed. “And we saw the light start shaking on its own. Then it just fell.”
"Wow. That is weird. Did you get the accident on film?"
He shakes his head. “No. We were in between takes. But maybe it’s just as well. We gotta keep all this stuff pretty quiet. Obviously. You’ll have to sign a nondisclosure if you agree to do the job.”
“Right. Of course,” I nod.
"So how do you do this? How do you fish for ghosts?"
I grow very serious. Thankfully I'd watched that ghost hunting marathon so I pretty much know the drill, even though I’m lacking all of their expensive ghost-hunting gear to make it look that much more impressive.
"I don't use a bunch of fancy equipment," I say, scornfully. As if us real ghost hunters are above all that.
He looks a little disappointed.
"I'm just very sensitive. Though I am able to use a simple app on my phone to record any ghostly encounters. See."
I hold up my phone, on which I've installed a few apps. One supposedly measures phantasmic material in the vicinity. One is a regular magnetizer that starts beeping and jumping wildly whenever you're in the presence of any kind of metal. And one records audio of all ghostly experiences.
I show him that the magnetizer is jumping wildly. "I think the ghost is here," I say ominously.
My eyes close as I hold the phone up and allow my senses to open up and take in whatever spirits are in the room. Or at least that's what I'm pretending to do. In reality I'm trying to remember some of the better lines from the ghost hunter series.
"I sense something, " I say, in that same ominous voice as I start moving towards the far wall, my eyes still closed. "Ouch!"
I should probably open my eyes to walk.
I slowly move forward again, still holding my phone out. "Yes. There's something here. There's definitely something here."
"What is it?" Devon asks, standing far behind me. "Is it the ghost that's been causing all the accidents?"
"I don't know yet. But I’m getting a very bad sense. Something dark happened right here. Something very bad."
I'm not sure why I say this last bit. It sounds right I guess. Or maybe my imagination is getting the better of me. Because for some reason I do sense that something bad happened right there. Something very bad.
“Hello! I sense someone here!” I call out to the ceiling. “Are you here?”
I wait, as if listening for a ghostly answer.
I'm silent. Devon is silent. The room is silent.
"What is it you want?" I call out. Then, as if expecting an answer, I wait again, eyes closed, face lifted toward the ceiling. "I'm here to help you get home. Just tell me what you want..."
I wait. Devon waits. Everything is still. And for a moment it's as if I actually expect the ghost to come on out and tell me what he wants.
But no. There's nothing.
Nevertheless, I nod, my eyes still closed as if I'm listening to something being relayed to me from the other side.
"What's going on?" Devon asks, concerned. "What is it? Are you hearing something?"
I slowly turn to face him. "There's definitely something here. But it's fuzzy. There's at least one ghost and he's angry. But there may be even more."
"Man," Devon nods. "That's what I figured. Can you get rid of them? Or him?"
“I think so,” I say with a thoughtful frown. "It might not be easy though. It's not like I can just come in and evict them. The ghost world is very...complicated. I need to figure out what's keeping him here."
"Right. Well, listen. The production company can pay you but you need to get this all cleared up in a week. Can you do it? Otherwise we have to shut down production for good."
"A week's fine," I say, turning off my ghost recorder and fanning myself. "But I have to get out of here. It's very intense work." I keep fanning myself, as if to show him just how hot and intense it all is.
He nods, sympathetically. "I can only imagine."
He starts walking out. "So there'll be a guard outside 24/7 when we’re not filming. You already met Jose, and he’ll let you in whenever you need. Oh, and here's the number of our production offices. You can call them and they'll issue your paperwork give your retainer check."
Haunt Water Page 1