by Jacquie Gee
“Okay, full disclosure, for the better part of the last two days—”
“The last two days! Ever since I’ve been here?”
“No. Only since Anna sold you a haunted house.”
“Oh, I guess that might raise some suspicion.”
“Yeah, maybe just a little. Brace yourself. This might hurt a little.” I raise a cotton ball doused in peroxide to his wound.
“You mean, a little more than when you gashed it.”
"Funny," I smirk. "About that." I grow serious, my hand hovering above his wound. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"
“Cut my throat?” he says.
I drop back. “Honestly, you’re making it sound much worse than it was.”
“How much worse does it get?” I press the cotton ball to his throat.
“Yep, there it is!” He winces. “You know, one day, we’ll be laughing about this with our grandkids.”
“Will we?”
“Yep. You’ll be telling them how you met their psychopathic grandfather.” He winks.
“Don’t you think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself?”
“Oh, I don’t know, do you?” He smirks.
I’m not about to let on that inside, I think it’s a delicious idea.
“So, I can count on you for eight?” he winces as I dress the wound.
“Eight, it is, then.” I grin.
“Great,” he says, and backs away, walking backward toward the door. “Oh, and make sure to bring Anna.”
“How can I forget. The main course and dessert, too.”
“What?”
“Never mind.”
“Or, you could just come on your own.” He grins up at me, his eyes insatiably blue. Something warm stirs in my belly, and I lose all my thoughts.
“We’ll bring the wine,” I stammer, as he exists the door.
At least that way, we’ll know the wine isn’t poison.
"Jayden," I call before the door is completely shut.
“Um?” He looks back into the building.
I can’t help myself, I have to ask. “Why did you lie?”
“About what?” He tries to look innocent, but his eyes give him away.
“Oh, I don’t know.” I cross my arms. “Are there more things than just about your mother?”
He stares at me long and hard. His look is honest and crushing, sad. I suddenly feel like a jerk for asking as he lowers his head and raises it again, his face an empty vessel. “I really wanna tell you, I do,” he says. “And I will, I promise, just not now, okay?” His body sways. His eyes plead with me to accept his promise.
“Okay,” I say, though it’s not at all okay.
Questions howl and scratch at me as he leaves.
Why is he here? What does he want from me?
And why do I feel so drawn to him?
Chapter 16
Jayden
“Okay, so, now that they’re coming,” I tell the air in the dining room. “What do I need to know? I have the list, but is there anything more?” I flick my gaze toward the ceiling. Mr. Edgar hasn't shown himself in a day or so, not since our last encounter. Though he has been visiting me regularly in my sleep, filling my head full of all kinds of notes. Most of which, I don’t have any clue what they mean. But at least he’s trying to communicate.
“They should be here in about,” I check my watch, “fifteen minutes.”
I immediately go into panic mode. Why am I so nervous, for goodness sakes? I haven’t been this off my game since I asked Penny Pickler to senior prom.
I draw a breath and run a hand through my hair, and do one last check. Candles. Silverware. Fine China. Check. Flowers! Oh, my gosh, the flowers. I forgot the flowers.
I clap my hands to the sides of my head.
He said fresh cut flowers. I start running, heading for the back door. I stumble out into the garden searching for azaleas. For some reason, it has to be azaleas.
I race back in to get scissors and knock over a dining room chair. It spins and topples to the floor. I stop, double back, and flip it upright, going over the old superstition in my head.
Chair flips over means someone’s coming to dinner.
I suppose that’s harmless, right?
Considering, I am expecting guests.
That is the superstition, isn’t it?
I rack my memory trying to remember. I should be able to recite them. Old Mrs. Weatherhead from the foster home where I was raised used them enough times as I grew up. Though, honestly, I did my best to ignore her.
I stopped in the archway to smooth down my nerves. Again, I don’t know why am so rattled. I hold out my hands. I’m completely shaking. My breath is coming in heaves. Look, I tell myself, they’ll come for dinner, the old man will do his thing, and then you’ll find the answers you’ve come for. It’s as simple as that.
Then why does it feel like I’m on a date? I scratch my head.
Laughter rolls through the attic rafters.
“It’s not funny,” I shout at the ceiling.
The laughter rumbles around my head.
‘Look, you’d just better be ready to reveal yourself when they get here!” I holler at it. “No more of this, whispering sweet nothings, in my ears as I sleep!”
The entity thinks that’s funny, and I raise a fist in frustration.
“This may all be fun and games to you, but it’s serious work to me!” I shout.
The sound dissipates, drifting from the room, replaced by its former silence.
“Oh, great, I’ve ticked him off.” The breeze rustles the edge of the curtains as it flutters past. “No, don’t go!” I chase after it. “Don’t go. Stay, please!” I holler out the window. “You’d better be back in 15 minutes!” I shout at the entity’s tail.
"Nothing like trying to tame an ornery ghost." I pull back from the window, yanking a hand through my hair and give the floors a solid pace. "Can't deal with him; can't deal without him." I wring my hands. "This is so frustrating." I slam my fists on the windowsill.
I stare whimsically out the window, over the steamy mansion grounds, my heart stealthily pounding.
“I have to keep trying, or I’ll never find out who I am. I’ve never been this close to the truth before. Never been this close to knowing.” My hand finds my hair again. “I just don’t understand what he needs me to find out.”
It's just rained, and the heat is rising from the earth, giving the scenery an eerily foggy wash. The sun hangs low in the sky, about to dip below the horizon line. The perfect setting for an old English novel.
The girls should be here any minute.
The clock on the mantle strikes quarter of the hour, and I jerk around. I swear that thing wasn't working before. I quickly trace the sculpted tin ceiling in search of green glow. "Back already, are we?" I say into the lackluster air. It feels quirky and foolish to be talking to nothing so much of the time, but I’m getting used to it.
When nothing answers, there’s no green, no chilled air—just my wild imagination—I turn, slightly spooked, and slam the window shut.
“Through the visions, I wish you’d just tell me what you need!”
I spring off from the window, then freeze in place as the cold returns. It curls around me, laughing. My schooling kicks in.
Level one sign that an entity is present is the presence of cold air.
Level two is the freezing of your breath.
“If you’re gonna act like this, they’re not gonna stay, I tell you that right now!” I warn him, condensation rising from my lips, as I swipe at him with a nervous hand.
The entity rolls with laughter now.
"I mean it, you'd better behave, or I swear," I say sharply, as the air around me turns green and whirls. "After all, this was your idea!" I shout at the thing. Reaching up, I adjust my floating tie tail, tucking it back into my vest, as the entity chortles—a low, throaty, beastly sound. Even I'd run from it if I weren't so invested.
"I swear if anything happens to
either one of them—" I shake a fist.
“You’ll what?” It growls, its demonic voice sounding hollow and static through the high-pitch squelch of the interpreting speaker.
“Stop that! Stop this insanity, right now!” I reach over, activate the ghost scanning lights next to the door, catching my first formal glimpse of the man. Just a brief sighting, but a full silhouette. Even the details of his face shine through. He wears a beard, oddly, disturbingly, almost the same as my own, and his hair flounces with the same wave. His eyes are round, darkly blue and deeply set, his cheekbones high. Eerily, I could be looking at myself, a version of me from the past.
He catches sight of me and dashes from the light, then vanishes altogether.
I'm startled by the thought but then shake it away. Entities often take on the form of those who try to push them into the next life. It's a tactic they use to try to scare them off. It's not uncommon. I should have expected it. Especially, when dealing with evil ones.
I shake off the absurd thought. Edgar's been nothing but mannerly since I got here. Angry and agitated, but mannerly. If he'd wanted to hurt me, he would have done so by now.
He’s just a hurt soul, stuck between worlds.
Besides, he’s harmless—just a green, glowing glob. I swallow. Seriously, what can he do to me?
It’s we humans that assign more power to ghosts than they deserve. I need to stop empowering him.
I steady my stance and look confident, despite the fact my innards shake like jelly. "Now, where was I?" I glance again at the clock. Five minutes to. "Oh, yes, the flowers." The urn on the table is still empty. "There must be flowers." I bolt in the direction of the back door. Pushing through it, I burst into the garden. "Azaleas, Azaleas," I stare at the plants.
A green, glowing haze guides my arm toward a vibrant coral flowering shrub. Autumn Sunset, the sign reads below them.
Chapter 17
Jules
“What do you mean you're not going?” I shout into the phone, pinching it between my ear and shoulder as I scoop minnows. “You promised we’d go together.”
“I know. But then this thing came up at work.”
“You’re lying.” I turn, serving the customer, exchanging minnows for money. “You’re just trying to get out of this.”
"No, I'm serious, I'm not," Anna whispers. I can tell she's talking behind her hand at work. "The office got a last-minute call from a client, and my boss is forcing me to go."
“Bollocks! You just don’t want to go back up to that creepy place.”
“I swear to you that’s not it,” she hiss-whispers. “I’d totally planned to go.”
“Well, I'm not going back there alone.” I pace the back-room floor.
"You have to. He'll think we're rude if you don't."
“What do you care what Jeffery Dahmer thinks?”
“We’ve been over this. That whole line of thought is preposterous.”
“Oh, sure, now that you’re not going.” I fall against the wall.
“I promise you, I’ll show up there as soon as I’m done with the client. I shouldn’t be more than an hour, it’s just one showing.”
“Why can’t it wait?”
“I don’t know. The boss is insistent.”
“What if it’s too late by then?” I chew a nail.
“Wow, you’re spooked, aren’t you?”
“Don’t tell me you wouldn’t be.”
“Look, Jayden seems like a really nice guy. And it is only dinner.”
“It’s not Jayden I’m worried about.”
“Well, if things get too rough in the house, just get out of there. We’ve gotten out before—”
“Yeah, well, I figure at some point that luck’s gonna run out.”
“Honestly, he’s been living there without incident for almost a week now.”
“Three days and two incidents that we know of, need I remind you?”
“It’s likely just gonna be a harmless dinner party with a lovely man who’s new to the area.”
“And his human-hurling ghost.”
“Come on, Jules, you can’t cancel now. You’re supposed to be there within the hour.”
“This, spoken confidently by the person who’s opted out of going!” I raise my voice.
“Honestly, I find myself a little bit jealous,” Anna admits. “I saw him in town today shopping for the party, and he is completely charming.” I’m silent.
“Where?”
“Grocery. I caught him buying a bird. A pheasant.”
“What?” My blood shudders.
“He’s serving pheasant. Isn’t that your favorite?”
“Yeah.”
“Isn’t that amazing?”
“In a creepy kind of way, sure.”
“Well, I think it’s cool—”
“You would. You’re not going.”
“I told you, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Now, don’t be a pooh and disappoint the man, Jules, I think he might have a hankering for you.”
“A hankering?”
"Yeah. He asked me again if I was sure you were coming." Her voice drops into its jealous tone. "He didn't care about me, but he wanted you confirmed. Anyway, I'll be there lickety-split. Save me some bird."
“Ann-er!” her boss shouts before I can protest.
“Look,” she talks as fast as she can, “just go and try to enjoy yourself. Who knows, maybe by the time I get there, you’ll be sorry I even showed up.”
“Funny.”
“I’m serious. I see the way he looks at you.”
It’s true. I feel it myself, but I’m not about to admit it.
“By the way, the gash on his neck is nearly healed.”
“Great. Thanks for that—”
“But I think it might scar.”
“Thanks for the update.”
“In a weird way, it’s kind of cool.” She lowers her voice to a haughty growl. “You’ve marked your man.”
“You’re sick, you know that?”
“I know. But I still think it’s kind of sexy.” She giggles. “Now, get off the phone and get ready, will you? You don’t want to be late.”
“Right. Wouldn’t wanna upset the spirits.”
“Atta girl.” Anna blows me a kiss through the receiver. “I’ll see you in a bit—”
“Hopefully in a bit, and not in bits.”
“Funny.” She laughs. “Just try to keep your head about you until I get there, both physically and mentally.”
“Ha. Ha.”
“Oh, last thing.”
“What?”
“It’s formal. You’re gonna need to dress up.”
“In what?”
“Ann-er!”
“I dunno. Be creative. You’re the designer. Boss is screaming. Gotta go. Talk to you soon—”
The receiver goes dead before I can say another word.
"Formal?" I drop my head back against the wall. "I highly doubt the man means wedding wear." I chew a nail. "What else have I got to wear?" I pace the floor. "Mom," I whisper and launch myself up the stairs, throwing open the doors of Mom's old closet. I flip on the light and clear away some cobwebs. Neither Dad nor I have been in here since she died. I run my fingers along the sleeves of some of her favorites.
“Come on, Mom. Help me out here. What doth a classic goth-girl wear to a formal, haunted dinner party?”
Chapter 18
Jayden
“So, a tie? I seriously need to wear a tie?” I talk to the air.
I don’t know what kind of game this ghost is playing, but it’d better produce results. The last time I wore a monkey suit my best friend got married. I don’t normally endure these things for less. I tug on my tux, then move back to the perils of tying the tie.
Flip the bottom swath of material up and over the top. I follow the instructions, executing them with invigorated force, then poke the swath of material through the hole in the knot and tug it down, with a sharp snap.
I don’t understand w
hy men ever agreed to dress like this.
The floorboards above my head creak, and the air sniggers. My eyes shoot up, enraged. “Seriously, dude, if you have something to say, just say it! I’m tired of all this innuendo.” My voice booms in the near-empty space, echoing off all the dry, wood-panel walls. All the accents in the room shiver, as the sound crashes back in on me, empty, edgy, and unchallenged.
“That’s it, say nothing. That’s perfect. Very helpful.” I flip my hand in the air. “Like always.” The air grows crisp and I shiver.
Reaching over, I activate my equipment, which I’ve now hooked to one central remote, making it easier to capture small inflections of activity as they happen.
I return to the mirror, trying again to fix the mess I've made of my tie, tearing at the knot and starting over.
"You know what I think?" I bellow, flicking glowered glances up toward the ceiling and back. "I think you're chicken! I think you're too cowardly to deal with your demons!" The air around me grows thick and white. "I think you're too afraid to own up to what you did and get on with your life… death, I should say!” The air turns into wind, whipping around my tiny space. “I think if you’d been brave enough to deal with your personal shite when you were alive, you wouldn’t be here still floating around needing to meddle in mine!”
“And I think you should shut up!” A crackling, ghoulish voice snarls over the ghost-monitoring speakers, rendering me nearly deaf.
I raise my hands to my ears. "Fair enough." I cower. My hair whips up from my head into a tornado-like form.
A low chortle of laughter swirls the ceiling and the voice is away.
"You think it's this funny, don't you? Having the power to frighten the undead. Well, enjoy your reign, because it'll soon be over when I stuff you through to the next world!"
Unequivocal silence fills the space. Not even a creak of the floorboards sounds above my head. I’d better watch myself. I need this guy, at least for the next twenty-four hours.
After that, he can go jump off a hell-pier for all I care.
The miserable bastard.
But first, I’m getting the answers I came for.