There were clothes on hangars connected to the lines on the right and left sides of the compact room. Below them on one side were a few brown cardboard boxes loaded with pairs of shoes, while the opposite side held just as many boxes stacked with purses. Above the slacks, blouses, dresses, and power suits, Logan found ledges that held stacks of white cardboard boxes. None were labeled. If his father had written him a letter, his mother may have placed it in one of those boxes.
Logan felt guilty for rifling through her things, but if his mom wanted him to know about a secret from the past and that nugget might be inside one of those boxes, he hoped she’d be okay with him taking another look for it. Besides, he was searching for a letter, whether addressed to him in an envelope or written on one or more pieces of paper. Anything else held no interest for him, and he’d disregard it.
He pushed aside five photo albums, even more journals from his mother’s past, and a wooden box of personal items like jewelry and keepsake pieces. There were a couple of dolls from her childhood, souvenirs from vacations across the country, old books, and decorative candles. But there was no letter.
Disappointment drifted through him. Had his mother accidentally tossed the letter in the garbage years ago while cleaning out her husband’s things? Logan lowered his body onto the hard floor.
From the corner of his right eye, a dark figure moved through the hall toward his bedroom and vanished. He swung his neck in that direction.
The corridor was empty.
Had he truly seen that? Or was it a figment of his imagination? Chills spread across his body. Granted, he only saw a few feet into the hallway through the doorway, but it was void of activity. He hurried to his feet, leapt to the door, and looked into the hall.
Logan didn’t see anything suspicious. But the air felt electric around him. It lifted the hair on the back of his neck. That was one of the signs of a spectral visitation. Eyes now alert for the slightest movement, ears attuned to the quietest sound, he stayed in place, prepared to jump into action if confronted by whatever may have infiltrated their home.
The door to his room hadn’t squeaked or he would have heard it. According to what he read, a ghost wouldn’t need to open the door. Spirits could just travel right through it. But that raised another confusing question in his mind: a few nights ago, he’d heard something outside his door, making its way across their creaky floor. But just now, he hadn’t heard even the slightest groan of the wooden boards in the corridor.
If it was an apparition, it could also appear and vanish at will. He couldn’t stop it. And he couldn’t fight it. For those reasons, he couldn’t threaten it. The spirit could come and go as it pleased. That knowledge sent a dagger of fear sliding up his spine.
Logan’s chest felt tight. He glanced left and right, trying to determine why his throat needed to work extra hard to breathe. Had this been one of the warning signals that a spirit may have been in the vicinity? Had he accidentally skipped information on that potential clue? It certainly seemed possible since his senses were heightened, prepared for…something.
Logan took one step toward his closed bedroom door. Had he closed it behind him before heading to his mother’s room? He couldn’t remember.
No sound or movement emanated from his room. He still didn’t want to go in there. Something might be waiting for him. After all, why cross into the hall toward his bedroom, if it hadn’t planned to enter it?
But it was his bedroom, and Logan didn’t like the idea that something lurked inside. If it had visited, what was its purpose? Why enter his room?
He took another step and extended an arm toward the doorknob. He stopped and glanced over to ensure that it hadn’t snuck up on him. It hadn’t, so he returned his attention to his door and advanced two more paces until he stood before it, his palm hovering over the knob.
“Logan!” Ashleigh yelled from behind Tyler’s closed door.
Logan jumped at the disturbance, and his hand jabbed the doorknob. She probably thought he was still downstairs and boosted her voice so he’d hear her. He swiveled around. “What?” he shouted. Aggravation and fright pierced his voice.
Behind him, a door whooshed open and footsteps entered the hallway. “What are you doing?” she asked in a curious tone.
Gasping, he realized that he no longer struggled to push air into his lungs. Likewise, the tiny hairs on his neck had once again settled against his flesh. “I thought…” Once again, he’d come upon contradictive evidence that an entity had passed through the hallway. Logan could tell Ashleigh that, but without conclusive proof that he’d actually seen or heard something, he would only end up scaring her.
So, instead of telling Ashleigh about his suspicions, he concealed it. “I was going into my room,” he snapped with a cutting edge to his tone. “Why? Is that a problem?”
“No.” Stunned, she drew back. “What’s gotten into you?”
“You scared me.”
Ordinarily, Ashleigh would have made a smart-ass remark. This time, she didn’t. She didn’t say anything. She just stared at him.
“What. Do. You. Want?” He was agitated not to have discovered whatever may have entered his room. He wanted this uncertainty to end. Either something haunted them or it didn’t. He hated the ambiguity and how it affected him.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you coming up. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have shouted for you.”
He couldn’t remove the anger that had clutched onto of him. He tried to convince himself to let it go because he had no reason to be upset, but it refused to leave. His volatility reminded him of a passage he’d read that discussed how a ghost’s emotions could affect a human. Had an irate entity been nearby moments ago? Did that explain his unexpected rage?
That potential explanation helped him get over how he’d overreacted. “Sorry I yelled at you.”
She nodded.
He turned back to face his door. He reached for the knob.
“We think everyone should sleep in mom’s room tonight. Just to be safe.”
Those words broke through his animosity and allowed him to concentrate. Logan’s hand fell back against his thigh. “That’s a good idea.” He wasn’t sure if he acquiesced to appease them…or to feel better because he’d have some company while also giving him the chance to look out for them.
“Okay,” she said. “We’ll get our stuff.” She headed back to her room.
After Ashleigh had interrupted him, Logan hadn’t felt the slightest bit of anxiety at the thought of opening his bedroom door, possibly for the same reason that he no longer found it tough to breathe. If something had entered his bedroom, it had just left.
10
Once everyone hauled their bedding materials into their mother’s bedroom a little past midnight, Logan set up his stuff on the floor right inside the doorway. If he heard or saw anything, he wanted to be the first one to check it out. He also wanted to be their first line of defense if anything came for them.
More than anything, he wanted evidence, clarification that something supernatural truly haunted them. If that happened, he could finally push his doubts aside and work toward concocting a plan to deal with it. Of course, Logan didn’t know what that entailed. How could he? He needed to know the exact nature of the problem before finding a solution.
Tyler laid out his sheet, blanket, and pillow against the wall on the floor opposite him, between which sat an old, heavy television on top of a black stand. He had taken Logan’s advice and removed a couple of plush blankets from the hallway closet and placed them on the floor, which would provide much-needed relief from the hard surface below him. He plugged earbuds into his ears and smiled at whatever flashed across the screen of a tablet.
Ashleigh took the queen-sized bed. Tucked in with lit lamps on nightstands on either side of her providing an array of light, she read one of the books about ghosts she’d gotten from the library.
Logan leaned against the wall and perused a different book. So far, he hadn’t learned anything ne
w. He’d already skimmed every ghost book, searching for circumstances like those he’d encountered. None had met those criteria. It frustrated him that he couldn’t get undeniable information that sorted things out.
His phone buzzed. He consulted it. A text message had come in from Eloise. Upon seeing her name on his phone, his breath came quick. “It’s her,” Logan said, grinning. “Eloise.”
Tyler removed an earbud. “What’s it say?”
“That you should be asleep by now,” Logan said.
“Seriously,” Ashleigh said, sitting upright against the headboard. “Tell us.”
Logan opened the message and read it aloud: “I just got in, so I’m sorry to be texting so late. I just didn’t want you to think I was avoiding you. I’m glad you called.” Seeing some stuff that he didn’t want to share, he read it silently. I like you, too. It’s nice to admit that. So many people try to keep their intentions secret when they’re dating. It’s stupid. I hate that. Do you? Anyway, I’d like to go out with you. I’m free next weekend. Let me know if that works for you. Talk to you soon.
Logan’s chest felt like it would cave in. Then he realized he’d been holding his breath. He was so relieved that she’d texted. He also appreciated that she hated playing idiotic dating games. Unfortunately, he’d need to wait an entire week to take her out. It already felt like an eternity, but it would give him plenty of time to figure out how he’d feel if she truly had supernatural skills.
“Hey!” asked Ashleigh. “What gives? Gimme the scoop.”
“She wants to go out with me.” He felt his smile growing.
“That’s great!” she said. “I’m all for it.” A severe expression replaced her joyous one. “Hit her up right now. Tell her what’s been happening. See if she can visit.”
“She’ll think I’ve been stalking my phone, waiting for her to get in touch.”
“And you have been.”
“She’ll think I’m desperate.”
Ashleigh gave him a knowing look. “But you are.”
It hurt him that she thought of him that way. However, it went a long way toward explaining why he got so nervous around Eloise. “Hey, come on. Have a little respect.”
“And you should have a little common sense. We’re at DEFCON 5 right now.”
“But that equates to regular, peacetime status.”
“Well, the opposite then.”
Puzzled, Logan glanced around warily. “We’re being attacked by a horde of angry ghosts?”
“No, but it could happen.” She pointed at his phone and stabbed her finger in the air toward it. “Come on. Get with it!”
“It’s not gonna work,” said Tyler, his gaze still on the screen in front of him. “Logan’s no longer in high school. Peer pressure won’t work on him anymore.”
Ashleigh snarled at him. “Then what will?”
“You’re asking me? I’m not even in middle school!”
“Barely,” she said in a low tone.
Tyler grinned. “But I keep passing every year. That’s all that matters.”
“Nothing to be proud of,” Logan said in a sincere tone.
“The girls sure like it,” Tyler said with an easy grin. “They think I’m cool.”
“They think you’re ‘cool’ because you don’t care, and they’re curious about that. Being dumb doesn’t make you cool. It makes you dumb.”
“Okay, Dad,” Tyler said in an annoyed, aloof voice.
Logan leapt to his feet. “Don’t start with that. I’m not acting like Dad would have. And I’m not pretending to be your parent. I’m talking about common decency. You’re ten, not twenty.”
“Neither are you!”
Logan ignored the expression.
“In this state, you’re not even old enough to drink,” Tyler said. “Or go into a casino. Or a strip club.”
“We’re not talking about me.”
“Yes we are,” said Tyler, setting his device down. He pulled out the other earbud and met his brother’s eyes. “You’re telling me what you would do. But I don’t want to do that, and I’m not going to. I’m going to do what I want.”
Logan stalked over to him and glared down at his little brother. “You’re too young to know what you want. And you’re too stupid to know what’s important.”
Tyler’s snotty expression turned into one of malice. “You don’t scare me.”
Unlike the moment earlier in the hallway with Ashleigh when Logan got upset for no reason, this time he got angry because his brother had been disrespectful. He also doubted a spirit had been influencing Tyler’s behavior. Logan thought it had more to do with Tyler thinking his older siblings treated him like a child, whereupon he wished to be regarded as more mature.
Ashleigh jumped off the bed and raced in between them. “Hey,” she said in a meek tone. “Come on, guys. We shouldn’t be fighting over this.”
“He started it,” Tyler said, gesturing towards his brother. “Right, Dad?”
Logan wanted to grab the little brat by the shirt and yank him to his feet. No kid Tyler’s age should be that disrespectful to anyone. “Don’t call me ‘Dad.’”
“Okay,” she said, pulling her head back a little. “All right.”
“I’m not going to text Eloise tonight,” Logan said. “I’ll call her tomorrow and tell her what’s going on. If she knows all about the supernatural and she wants to come over, she’s welcome to check things out. That’s all I’m saying when it comes to that. Got it?”
Tyler shook his head, a reproachful smirk on his face.
Logan ignored the flippant look because his brother shut up. When Ashleigh nodded and didn’t say a word, Logan turned his back on them and returned to the bed he’d made.
Only when he kicked aside his blanket with more force than necessary did he realize how unhinged he’d become. He’d never gone off on Tyler like that before. Growing up, he’d lost his cool with kids his own age, but he’d always regained his composure quickly enough to avoid getting into a fight.
But this time, Logan had trouble keeping his temper in check. It scared him. Even worse, it never even occurred to him that he should have reined in his frustration before he got into a shouting match with Tyler.
He reconsidered his earlier assumption that a spirit had affected his emotions. With no supernatural sightings or occurrences before or during their squabble, Logan couldn’t prove or disprove that his anger was stoked by paranormal origins. That worried him. If he couldn’t determine when his emotions sprang from himself or from an external source, how would he know when to curb his behavior?
Over the next hour, Ashleigh and Tyler said only a few words to each other, but neither of them said anything to Logan. None of them said goodnight, an evening ritual. Eventually, they drifted off to sleep.
Logan, however, had trouble falling asleep. In his mind, he kept replaying his argument with Tyler and tried to figure out if there were any clues he’d missed that might indicate an appearance by a ghost. Nothing came to mind, which irritated him and added to his inability to let sleep claim him.
Soon enough, he contemplated why his mother hadn’t phoned him as she’d promised. If what his father hoped to pass along to Logan was so important, wouldn’t his mom have made it a priority to get in touch with him as soon as possible?
Logan’s lids finally began to close.
In the hallway, the floorboards creaked about ten feet away from the bedroom door.
His eyes slowly opened. He hadn’t imagined that sound. Goosebumps formed on his skin.
The squeaking continued.
Logan dragged his gaze toward his siblings. Both lay asleep. Since they were deep sleepers, neither of them heard or even acknowledged the sound. And they were both behind him. If they needed to use the restroom, their feet would make the ground creak, alerting Logan to their nearness. As such, they couldn’t have made the noise in the corridor.
He hadn’t heard the rather noisy deadbolt click open downstairs. No one had attempted to
invade their home. Yet something lingered in the corridor. He had no doubt about that.
The corridor floor groaned again, this time drawing closer than moments earlier.
Logan propped his body up on an elbow and lifted his head to listen, his heart nearly knocking against his ribs. He pressed his head closer to the door, now mere inches from it.
Everything was now silent in this bedroom and outside it.
Logan looked under the door and didn’t see a shadow. Tyler must’ve closed his bedroom curtains, which prevented the streetlight from shining through his window. Logan slowed his breathing, cocked his head toward the door, and stayed in place, listening.
A gust of wind lashed against the aluminum siding outside. A moment later, a tree branch scraped against the side of the house, unleashing a metallic sound. Inside the home, nothing stirred.
Logan remained guarded for another minute or so. Hearing nothing, he lowered his body to the blanket and pillow. He tried to crowd out thoughts of a specter walking along the hall floor at a leisurely pace. That made perfect sense. Why would a spirit rush? It had eternity to haunt a home.
Aggravated, Logan jerked awake, breathing heavy. His pulse throbbed in his neck. His eyes were now wide open. In the darkness, he stared at the door.
On the other side of the door, the floor resounded again.
Something had to be standing outside it, as in directly opposite him.
Logan wanted answers. Now.
He pushed away from the door, reached up, and curled his palm around the doorknob. He twisted it. He pulled it open so slowly, the door whined. Once the door passed one inch from the threshold, Logan looked into the hallway.
No one stood there.
He surveyed the rest of the hall to the left.
It was completely empty. Nothing lay on the ground. So how had the floorboards groaned?
Logan pulled open the door a few more inches, poked his head through the doorway, and peered to the right.
Same thing. Void of activity.
The Descendants Page 9