Restless Spirits

by Michelle Scott

  As he passed through the dining room, something moved in the gloom. He jumped, alarmed, then laughed. No, it wasn’t a ghost, just a reflection of himself in a highly-polished silver tray hanging on the wall.

  Still, it paid to be on alert. He waited a few minutes in the darkness, reaching out with his inner senses, hoping to feel the brush of the paranormal. Unfortunately, nothing stirred. He hated to admit it, but there was always the possibility that the house wasn’t haunted after all. Then his trip would have been for nothing.

  On the other side of the dining room was a small room that Ethan guessed was a butler’s pantry. Beyond that, was the kitchen. To his surprise, a light was on inside. David sat at a large, wooden table with a sketchbook open in front of him and a charcoal pencil in his hand. He looked up, startled, when Ethan walked in, and flipped the sketchbook closed. “Everything okay?”

  “I couldn’t sleep,” Ethan said. He wondered what was inside that sketchbook that made David guard it so closely. “I was just exploring.” Now that he knew that David was in the kitchen, his need for tea diminished. He didn’t feel like making awkward conversation, especially not this late at night. He turned to leave.

  “Wait. Don’t go,” David begged.

  Ethan hesitated.

  “I need to apologize.” David lowered his head. “I was a total asshole to you. You have no idea how sorry I am.”

  Ethan shut his eyes and let out his breath. It was the very apology he’d been longing to hear for the past two years.

  “I’ve wanted to call you a million times, but I was too afraid of what you might say.” David’s voice dropped to nearly a whisper. “Please, Ethan. Don’t walk away.”

  Ethan didn’t reply, but he came back into the kitchen. David nervously fiddled with his pencil, keeping his head down. “I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted nothing to do with me, but do you think we could start over again?” He raised his pleading eyes. “Please?”

  “Those things –” Ethan cleared his throat as if his words were lodged there. “Those things you said to me – Did you mean them?”

  “No,” David said firmly. “I was confused. And angry, but not at you. I was angry at myself. I thought I’d done something wrong.” Sorrow shone in David’s eyes. “I loved you, Ethan. I still love you. As a friend.”

  As a friend. The words stung. They’d been so much more than friends in college.

  “I hate myself for what I said to you,” David continued. “I’d do anything to take that night back. I’ve missed you so much.”

  Ethan realized that his fists were clenched tightly. Could he re-establish a friendship with this man? Did he dare trust him again? His heart immediately spoke up. Yes. Yes he did. Still, it was hard to swallow down his pride and agree. Forgiveness was an important part of the healing process, but sometimes accepting an apology was more work than making one. “Okay.” He let out his breath and forced himself to relax his hands. “I’d like that.”

  David let out a breathy laugh that was nearly a sigh. “You have no idea how much I want that.”

  “Me, too,” Ethan said. The heavy burden he’d been carrying for the past two years felt lighter. Maybe they could start over again. They’d fallen in love once before. Why not again?

  “I’ve got an X-box at my cottage,” David said. “Maybe tomorrow we can lock horns over some Madden.”

  Ethan smiled. Playing video games was an excellent way to start off their new friendship. “I’m out of practice.”

  “Good. That will even things up a bit.” David stood up. “Do you want something to eat or drink? I can make you a sandwich or get you a glass of wine.”

  Ethan took a seat at the table. “Some tea would be good. Something without caffeine.”

  “You’ve got it.” David filled a kettle with water and put it on the stove.

  With the apology over, the atmosphere turned awkward. What could they say to each other in the wake of years of angry silence? After an uncomfortable pause, both Ethan and David started talking at the same time. Then they laughed, breaking the tension. “After you,” Ethan offered.

  “I just want to know what you’ve been up to since I last saw you,” David said. “You got your bachelor’s in poly sci, right? What else is going on?”

  Ethan’s mind immediately flipped to the Ladds and their lawsuit, but he couldn’t bear the thought of dragging that out now. Maybe later, when there was more trust. “I was trying to save money for law school, but that’s not really working out. Right now, I work at a coffee bar.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  “It’s a letdown after what I had planned,” Ethan admitted. If he’d stayed on course, he would have been starting his second year of law school. He hadn’t given up on his dream, but the obstacles to making it happen seemed to grow larger every year.

  “Don’t feel too bad,” David said. “I never graduated at all. I left without finishing my final semester. Now, I’m living here and working as a handyman. Definitely not what I had expected from my life when I was back in high school. The eighteen-year-old David would have thought I was a loser.”

  “Then tell that eighteen-year-old you to go to hell,” Ethan said. “No one needs a voice in their head like that.”

  “You said it!” David grinned, and Ethan found himself grinning back. He hadn’t thought it would be this easy to fall back into the old patterns. It was almost as if they’d never been apart. As if that ragged, gaping hole in Ethan’s heart had never been there.

  When the kettle shrilled, David poured a mug with water and added a teabag. He kept his back to Ethan. “My girlfriend’s been encouraging me to go back to school and finish that semester.”

  Girlfriend?! Ethan’s heart slammed into his chest. Heat rushed through every vein. So David was back to playing that game again. Hadn’t he learned anything about himself over the past four years? Had he forgotten about the love notes he used to slip inside Ethan’s backpack? Or the passionate embraces? Or the simple pleasure of holding hands?

  “Jessica’s a great person,” David continued. “She completely understood why I had to leave Detroit and come up here to be with my sister after my niece died.” Still avoiding Ethan’s eyes, David placed the mug on the table. “She and I have been together for almost seven months.” David reclaimed his seat.

  Ethan stared at the steaming tea mug and considered leaving. He’d heard enough.

  David sucked in his cheeks. “Do you think it’s weird? Me having a girlfriend?”

  Weird, no. Disingenuous? Definitely. Either David got real now, or he ended up marrying the poor girl or someone like her and breaking her heart in another few years. But when Ethan looked into David’s clear, blue eyes, his heart melted. David was conflicted. He’d had a very strict, religious upbringing that made him believe that his yearnings were sinful. That who he was and whom he loved were sinful. He’d struggled with that constantly back in college. In fact, he’d once confessed to Ethan that if his parents found out about the two of them, they would disown him. As it turned out, that statement wasn’t hyperbole.

  “I’m not surprised,” Ethan said. “You had a girlfriend when I met you.”

  David looked down at his hands. “But are you okay with it?”

  Ethan would never be okay with it, but he couldn’t press David on the issue, either. If he did, he’d end up chasing him away. Given time, Ethan might be able to confront David about the situation, but not tonight. Their rekindled friendship was too new. “I guess so.”

  “You’ll get to meet her this weekend,” David said. “She’s driving up to see me.”

  Oh, happy day. Ethan forced a smile. “That would be great.”

  Another awkward silence descended. David kept his eyes on the tea mug. “So what’s your read on the manor?” he finally asked. “Seen any ghosts yet?”

  “Not yet. Things are oddly quiet for such an old house.”

  David ran his fingers through his hair. “Maybe my sister really is hearing voices that aren�
�t there.”

  “Don’t jump to that conclusion. I’ve only been here a few hours.” Ethan blew steam from his mug. “What about you? Do you think that this house is haunted?”

  “I’ve never seen anything to make me think so.” David picked up his pencil and twirled it in his fingers as he thought. “Although, there’s a pall over this place,” he admitted. “I’ve felt it ever since I moved in.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  “Ten months. Grant wanted someone to help maintain the property and do odd jobs. My sister needed me to – well, she just needed me. So I came here to stay for a while.” He stared at the sketchbook, his eyes distant. “In that time, the house has gotten under my skin. There’s nothing specific that I can point to, but it oppresses me and gives me nightmares. I sometimes feel like it’s inside my head.” He laughed wryly. “You probably think I’m crazy.”

  Ethan shook his head. “Not at all. I think that every place has a certain energy, and that sensitive people can pick up on that.”

  David met his eyes. A worried line appeared in his forehead. “Do you feel it?”

  “The oppression? Yes. Definitely. But it could just be that the house is old. A lot of these rooms don’t see much use, do they?”

  “Hardly any of them,” David agreed. “There’s only the four of us staying here. Maybe a little positive energy is all this place needs to clear up the gloom.”

  Ethan sipped his tea, thinking. He had always been good at reading people. When it came to communication, words were only the tip of the iceberg. The deeper part of understanding what people wanted to say was to study their unspoken language. Right now, David’s shoulders were tense and his face drawn in concern. He was a man in conflict with himself. He might say that the house only needed a bit of energy to reinvigorate it, but a deeper part of him sensed that something else was going on. Something that the rules of his rational world didn’t follow.

  The lights flickered again. David sighed. “I’ve told Grant a hundred times that the place needs an electrical makeover, but he keeps putting me off. At least there’s a generator.”

  “It’s a beautiful, old house,” Ethan said. “If it was updated, it could be a real gem.”

  “It is a gem,” David agreed. “Have you seen the Tiffany stained-glass windows in the library yet? And the walnut paneling in Grant’s study? Oh, and the fresco above the fireplace in the morning room.” His eyes sparkled. “The manor may look old and gloomy, but there’s so much history here. It’s going to need a lot of time and patience to restore it, but it will be worth it.”

  Ethan smiled at David’s enthusiasm. It took away the shadow that had been haunting his eyes. “It sounds like you really love this place.”

  David shrugged and smiled. “The negative energy in the house makes me uncomfortable, but I love the craftsmanship. Remember that house we helped to build back in college? I learned more from that than I ever did from class. I’m thinking that I may forget about that last semester of college and get into the carpentry trade.”

  Ethan’s eyes went to David’s calloused hands. Thinking of their strength gave him a shiver. He had an urge to stroke David’s fingers to feel their roughness. The idea made him swallow guiltily. “And do what? Flip property?”

  “Something like that. Although, I’m afraid that if I worked on an old house, I’d fall in love and wouldn’t be able to sell it.”

  “I can understand where you’d fall in love with a house,” Ethan said.

  “I would have loved to grow up in a house like this. There’s so many places to discover and explore. It would have made a real kick-ass place to play hide and seek.” He sat up straighter. “Would you like a tour of the house? I have some free time tomorrow afternoon, and we could go through it from attic to basement.”

  “I’d love it,” Ethan said, smiling. “I’ll bring the flashlight.” He finished his tea, thanked David, and returned to his room thinking that the day hadn’t been so bad after all.

  Ethan lay motionless on a cold, concrete surface. Thunder boomed, and lightning flared. Behind him came the roar of angry surf. Waves washed over him, dousing him with icy water. He struggled to stand up, but his arms and legs were tightly bound. He tried to scream, but a rag had been stuffed into his mouth.

  A shadowy figure loomed over him. In his gut, Ethan knew that this wouldn’t be his rescuer. As he tried to wriggle away, he was dragged to his feet. In the flash of lightning, Ethan caught sight of his captor. His heart nearly burst through his ribcage. He wanted to plead his case to this man. To tell him there was some mistake. To make promises that he’d never tell his secret. But the gag prevented all of that. Instead, all he could do was beg with his eyes. Please don’t let this happen.

  His captor didn’t hesitate. With a mighty shove, he sent Ethan into the icy water. Ethan frantically struggled against his restraints, but he knew it was useless. He’d never get free. He was at the mercy of the great lake.

  Chapter Four

  Ethan jerked awake. “NO!” What had been a shout in his dream was only a garbled syllable. He sat on the floor near an open window, struggling with a sheer curtain that had brushed against his face. Rain blew in through the window, soaking him. But he was safe. There was no shadowy figure. No watery grave.

  Panting with relief, Ethan leaned against the wall and laughed. He’d been scared for nothing. He wiped the water from his face. He hadn’t had a nightmare like that in years. It had been so real! He swore that he could still taste the gag in his mouth. He wouldn’t have been surprised to find rope marks on his wrists and ankles. But it was all a dream. A ridiculous nightmare.

  He stood and shut the window. He turned around to go back to bed and realized that he was no longer in his bedroom suite. Where the devil was he? He’d been known to sleepwalk when stressed, but never very far and never for very long. Now, here he was in a completely different room.

  Hands outstretched, he took a few faltering steps forward and tripped over something. Muffling a curse, he rubbed his shin and felt around for the object that had gotten in his way. His fingers traced the swayed back of a rocking horse. Edging around it, he stepped on a plush toy that squeaked.

  A nursery?

  Something behind him whimpered.

  He swallowed. The hair on the back of his neck rose. He didn’t want to turn to look behind him, but his head moved of its own accord, twisting so that he could see over his shoulder.

  Standing behind him was Kennedy. Although the room was pitch black, she seemed to be standing in sunlight. Ethan could see everything from the blush on her plump cheeks to the Sesame Street characters on her tennis shoes.

  “Go away,” Ethan whispered. “There’s nothing I can do to help you!” He turned and ran out of the nursery, not stopping until he reached his bedroom suite.

  Despite his poor night’s sleep, Ethan was up at six o’clock the next morning. The bedside lamp still burned, and the unsettling visitation was still fresh in his mind. He was tempted to check behind the curtains and look under the bed for Kennedy, but he resisted. He wanted to pass last night’s vision off as a dream, but her presence had been so vivid. He could have reached out and touched her. The thought made him shudder.

  After showering, he shaved and brushed his teeth. When he tried to turn off the tap, however, the faucet continued to drip. No matter how much pressure he put on the handle, he couldn’t get it to stop. The water drops fell as steadily as a metronome. Shrugging, Ethan left the bathroom and got dressed.

  He had hurried without realizing it, and still had a half an hour before breakfast. Perfect. He could use that extra thirty minutes to get in touch with the spirits of the manor. The nightmare had convinced him of one thing – there was paranormal activity in the house. Now, all he had to do was reach out to it.

  Ethan grabbed a bag of Scrabble tiles from his suitcase. He preferred them to an Ouija board since it was too easy to accidentally manipulate the planchette. He sat in lotus position on the Oriental r
ug near the fireplace, cracked his neck, stretched his spine and got ready to approach the supernatural. With his eyes closed, he held the bag reverently and prepared to wait. Spirits could not be rushed nor prodded into motion. The only way to approach them was to become an empty vessel.

  He relaxed himself, limb by limb, easing his mind into the twilight space between worlds. But just as he was slipping into meditation, a plop from the bathroom interrupted him. Irritated, he opened one eye then shut it again. Another drop fell.

  Ethan shifted his position. This was no problem. He often ran into distractions. His apartment was near the noisy el train in Chicago, a city that never went quiet. Over the years, he’d gotten used to interruptions. The key was to use the distraction as a part of the meditation process. He’d count the drops of water as they fell, and use that to lull him into his trance.

  That, however, proved impossible. Although the tap had been dripping steadily, it suddenly changed, losing all rhythm. A drop fell after an overly long pause, then two followed in quick succession. Then several droplets pattered to the floor. Ethan found himself anticipating each new sound rather than letting it wash over and through him. Instead of being soothing, the periodic drops of water were agitating him.

  Clenching his jaw, Ethan shot out of lotus position and went to tackle the faucet again. He’d turn off the water to the sink. That would silence it.

  He went into the bathroom and flipped on the lights. Standing there was a young woman in a soaking wet, Victorian nightgown. Her skin was pale blue, and seaweed tangled in her dark hair. Water from her nightgown dripped onto the tiled floor creating a puddle that spread nearly to the door.

  Ethan gaped in horror. A scream locked in his throat. Like Kennedy the night before, the woman looked so real, yet he could see through her body to the shower curtain behind her. The sound of dripping water was unmistakable. He could even smell a trace of her lavender perfume. He’d been in touch with the spirit world all of his life, but the intensity of the vision shocked him into immobility.