Chapter Eight
by Nelson
Warnings: Nothing too scary in this one.
As quickly as it had appeared, the apparition vanished, dissipating like tendrils of smoke caught in a soft breeze, the reaching hand disappearing with it, never able to touch its target. The saddened visage faded, crumbled into air around it, until nothing was left of the tear-drenched countenance.
"What is it?!" Colin asked anxiously.
"You didn't see that?" Riley pointed toward the area where the apparition had been, now nothing between him and the window beyond where the apparition wavered in the room.
"I didn't see anything. What happened?"
"It was a man. He—he was bleeding," Riley sputtered. His eyes still searched the empty area but there was nothing, not even a shred of evidence of what he had seen.
"It was him," Riley realized aloud. "The man in the picture."
"The picture in the trunk? The one from your nightmare?"
"No, the other one. The one standing in the picture." Riley closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead in a deliberate attempt to soothe his ragged nerves. "Scared the shit out of me. I knew something wasn't right in this house."
"Come here," Colin said gently and pulled Riley tightly against him.
"He reached for me."
Colin had no idea what to say so he simply held Riley tighter.
"What are we going to do, Colin? What if it gets worse?" Riley asked quietly.
What *would* they do, Colin wondered. He had no idea what to do without knowing what they were dealing with. Ghosts were still out of the question as far as he was concerned.
"I don't know," Colin replied sincerely. "I honestly don't."
Riley's mind swirled. What the hell *was* that thing? All his life he had been able to separate reality from fantasy, but suddenly the lines were terribly blurred, reality mixing with the surreal. Was he seeing things? Worse, was it real? If it was real, what did it want from him? Why him?
"It leaves you alone," Riley realized. "Why does it only show itself to me? Why just me?"
"I don't know," Colin said. "But I haven't seen a thing, haven't heard a thing. Just stuff that could be explained, like the door sticking in the bathroom."
Riley rolled over, breaking the embrace so he could look Colin in the eye. "Do you believe me?"
He felt as much as saw Colin search his eyes. "I believe you saw something."
"Really? Or do you just believe I *think* I saw something?"
Colin rose up on his elbow. "Riley, I don't know what to think. This is so—unreal. I can't get my mind around all this."
Riley rolled over away from Colin. "I'm not crazy."
"I don't think you are." Colin rubbed his hand down Riley's back supportively.
Colin paused when he felt the muscles under his hand go taut with his touch, a symbolic withdrawal he was unwilling to accept. "Riley," he said firmly.
"What?"
"You know I don't think you're crazy. I'm out of my league here. Ghosts – hauntings and stuff like that – I've never believed in. I know construction. Tangible things I can touch and understand. This? I don't know what to make of it."
"Well, I don't either," Riley muttered.
"I know you don't." This was unfamiliar ground for both men, no matter what it was.
"Do you believe me?" Riley asked again.
"You've never lied to me. Why would you start?"
Riley's tense muscles loosened and relaxed a bit under Colin's touch and reassuring words. "You don't believe I saw a ghost, though, do you?"
"I don't know what you saw."
"It was a ghost, Colin. You can't explain this one away."
"Riley, if you told me you saw a little green man, I wouldn't doubt you saw one. But since I've never seen one and don't believe in aliens, I'd want to know how a man became green. I wouldn't assume he was an alien."
"What are you saying?" Riley asked rolling over.
"I'm saying, my rational mind wants to go somewhere besides The Amityville Horror. That's what I'm saying." But he was running out of explanations.
Riley exhaled in aggravation and rolled back over, offering Colin his back to talk to. "I wish you'd see it. Just once, I wish you'd see it. Or something."
"Well, I haven't," Colin said. Colin knew Riley was frustrated, but so was he. He didn't know what to make of it all.
Riley couldn't believe what he had seen either, but there was no doubting it from his perspective. While he was angry and frustrated with Colin, he could hardly blame him for not accepting it. If Riley hadn't seen it himself, he'd feel the same way. He had never believed in spectral things and never planned to start until it was thrust on him. Now that it had been, he wanted to know more about it; more about the man, his life, how he died. Most importantly, Riley wanted to know what the man wanted with him.
Clearly, he wanted something. Or did he? Maybe he was simply a sad and lost soul who saw something in Riley that he could relate to. Had his spirit lain dormant for years only to be awakened by Riley and Colin's relationship, a relationship so similar to his own? Too many questions! He needed answers and he thought there might be a way to get some. There was no way he was telling Colin anything until there was something concrete to tell him.
Riley said, "Shouldn't you be getting ready for work?"
"I'm thinking I should stay home today."
"Why would you do that? I'm fine."
"I'd feel better if I were home, that's all."
Riley tossed the cool crisp sheet back and sat on the side of the bed. "Don't worry about me. I was thinking maybe I'd drop you at work and run a few errands today. I can come back and bring you some lunch then you can drive me home so you can have the truck back."
"Or you could stay and keep me company."
"I have to watch it with the ankle."
"I know you do," Colin agreed. "I don't want you working but you can hang around."
"I don't need you to baby-sit me, Colin," Riley replied abruptly as he stood and faced the bed.
"Riley, you know better than that." Colin's voice was stern with an edge.
The alarm started going off, oblivious to the fact that Riley and Colin were already awake. Even though its sounding was unnecessary, the insistent high-pitched bleeping was sharp enough to cut through a small bit of the tension that was starting to build. Colin turned off the alarm and got out bed, stopping in front of Riley.
"I'm not looking to baby-sit you and you know it."
"Look," Riley said wearily. "I'm sorry, but I'll be fine here alone and it will only be this afternoon. Seeing that thing without expecting it scared me, but I'm not afraid. Does that make sense?"
Colin took Riley's hands in his own. "Sort of."
"It doesn't want to hurt me. I don't think it --," Riley started with a frown. Was "it" the appropriate pronoun? No. "It" was a man. A man who had lived. A man who had loved. A man who had died.
"I don't think he wanted to harm me. He looked… sad, not threatening."
Colin dropped Riley's hands and paced toward the window, his forehead furrowed in consternation as he thought. What was it that he had heard that morning? He was awakened by crying. A man crying. He naturally thought it was Riley, but clearly it wasn't.
He turned to his partner and said, "I thought I heard crying. Remember?"
Riley nodded slowly. The scare had chased away the memory of why he was awake to begin with. "Yeah, you did. You thought it was me."
It had to have been a dream. Had to be. Then his confusion fed Riley's until Riley thought he saw a saddened man.
"I must have been dreaming," Colin rationalized.
"Sure, that must have been it," Riley agreed skeptically.
"Riley –"
"You just can't consider maybe you heard a ghost. That I saw one."
Colin rubbed his forearms as goosebumps dimpled the skin. "I'd rather think I was dreaming."
"Believe what you want," Riley answered dismissively. "I'm going to go through those letters this afternoon and see if I can find out what happened here."
"Riley," Colin said, grabbing his lover's wrist as he passed by.
"What?"
"I don't want you obsessing over this. It will just feed whatever's going on here."
"You don't want me reading the letters now?"
"I didn't say that," Colin said, letting go of Riley's wrist to pull his t-shirt off.
It took an effort for Riley to keep focused and not let his eyes wander over his partner's well-defined chest, now naked save for a line of hair disappearing deep into his sleep pants.
"I'm curious. Aren't you?" Riley asked.
"Yes, I'm curious." Colin slipped his pants off as he continued. "But I don't want this to become your world. That's exactly where I see this heading."
Looking at his fully naked partner, Riley assured Colin, "Nothing will be my world but you."
Accepting Riley's kiss of confirmation, Colin said, "I'm not so sure about that, but thanks for the thought anyway."
"Colin—"
"I mean it, Riley. I don't want you eating and breathing some ghost investigation. You're already having trouble sleeping."
"Stop worrying," Riley replied indifferently.
"Riley—"
"All *right*, Colin," Riley answered irritably. "I won't obsess."
Colin searched Riley's eyes looking for the appropriate level of sincerity to seal the promise. "Good," he said, satisfied that Riley meant it. "You're sure about being here alone this afternoon?"
"I'm sure."
"Ok," Colin responded with minimal surety. "I'm going to jump in the shower."
As soon as Colin cleared the doorway, Riley went to his side of the bed, and opened the nightstand drawer to retrieve the letters. The light of day helped to ease some of the remaining jitters, then curiosity took care of the rest. If Colin thought reading letters had the potential to be obsessive behavior, he'd probably not be too impressed with Riley's plans for the day. He settled down to read until he heard the bathroom door open, then put the letters away so he could take his turn in the shower.
~~~~~~
Riley put off the most dreaded stop until last, but found exactly what he was looking for in Wal-Mart. The cost wasn't bad either; Wal-Mart had once again lived up to its promise of guaranteed lowest prices, even if those prices came at the cost of shopping with most the neighborhood's less-than-classy citizenship. It was still worth the cost for lower prices and an expansive inventory.
Riley called Colin on his cell and waited for him to pick up. "Hi, babe," Colin answered.
"Hi. Ready for some lunch?"
"Um…" Colin answered. "I don't know if I can get away right this minute. Can you bring me something?"
"Sure. I'll just stop by that hole in the wall place near the house. It's close."
"Now's as good a time as any to try them out. You're home?"
"No, I'm going to swing by and drop off these bags first though. I bought some cleaning supplies and a few other things." He glanced toward the bag on the front seat, the rectangular outline of the Ouija game showing through the thin plastic Wal-Mart shopping bag. "Burger ok with you?"
"Sounds good to me," Colin said. "If they don't have that, you can surprise me. You know what I like."
"Yep. Got it covered. I'll see you in about an hour or so."
Riley dropped off the bags at home and headed for the diner. He and Colin had spoken about trying the restaurant on several occasions when they were traveling between their old apartment and the house before they moved in but they had never gotten around to it. Riley was optimistic that the food would be good; some of the best meals out there were from nondescript holes in the wall.
The building was clearly an older one, the outside covered in up-to-date siding that did nothing to hide its age - despite hiding clapboard siding, Riley assumed. The lower pitch to the roof was a dead giveaway even if the small porch stoop and sunken sidewalk weren't. Riley stepped inside and studied the eclectic mix of aged wood paneling and cheap plastic-covered seating in the dining booths lining the walls. The flooring showed wear and tear, the tired shoe-trodden tiles begging to be replaced, and unwittingly giving away the favored paths by overly-scuffed flooring, its luster long lost.
The diner wasn't too busy with only two booths occupied, and a few patrons waiting to pay. There was a line at the register by the door, and Riley brought up the rear behind two other men. Riley looked around the diner while he waited, barely noticing the banter at the register about how the meal was and the declaration of the grand total. A row of photos lined the wall of the diner, showing the restaurant in different stages of its existence. His jaw dropped when he noticed one photo in particular, ancient yet carefully protected in a sealed frame just over the cashier's shoulder.
Two men stood proudly in front of the restaurant; men Riley immediately recognized. The sign overhead was emblazoned with a different name, but it was the same restaurant, no doubt about it, with the same flat roof and narrow porch. Riley stared at the antiquated black and white photo, yellowed to a soft sienna hue over time. A placard embedded in the matting pronounced the date to be 1893, likely the founding date for the Tea Room, now known as Margaret's Diner.
"May I help you?"
Riley's thoughts were broken by the request and it was all he could do to look away from the picture.
Riley stepped up to the register and smiled at the forty-ish woman behind the counter. "Are you Margaret?" he asked, indicating the "Peggy" on her nametag.
"Oh, not yet. Margaret is my grandmother, but I'm named after her. This place will be mine some day, so maybe I sorta am that Margaret. Can I help you?"
"I need to place an order to go," Riley said, his gaze drifting to the photo behind the register.
"Been here before?" she asked, studying Riley.
"No, so I guess I'll need a menu."
"I didn't think I recognized you." She pulled a menu out from under the counter and passed it to Riley. "Special today is hamburger steak and gravy, two veggies."
He opened the menu and scanned it quickly, passing over a variety of country-cooked meals from biscuits and gravy served all day to country-fried steak and gravy. A little slip of paper chunked under a tiny plastic clip on the menu verified the special.
Did anything on the menu come without gravy? "How about just a regular hamburger on a bun and fries or something?"
"We can do that for you," she said. She pulled a pencil from behind her ear and a notepad from her apron pocket. "What do you want on it?
"I need two orders. Lettuce, tomato and mayo on one, ketchup and mustard on the other."
"That be all?"
"Yeah, that'll do it."
"All right," she answered as she scribbled restaurant shorthand onto the notepad.
A rumble started beneath Riley's feet and the windows shuddered frantically in their frames. "What's—" he started to ask but was cut off by the bellow of a train whistle. "Oh," he said sheepishly.
"It's loud, isn't it?"
"Yeah. I knew the tracks were close, but I didn't realize they were that close."
"You get used to it. I never notice unless someone in here does. You new in town?"
"New to this area, yeah." Riley pointed at the picture beside Peggy on the wall. "I think we're living in those guys' house."
"By the church?"
"Yeah."
"They were the original owners of this restaurant. Place has been in my family for years since they had it. Be right back," she promised as she left to take his order to the kitchen.
Riley watched her refill coffee cups and take another order before she came back to the front.
"Do you know anything about those guys?" he asked her when she returned and perched on a stool behind the register.
"You know, not a whole lot," she said around a new stick of gum. Riley recognized the scent of fresh Juicy Fruit as she spoke. "Just that they owned this place first, had it about ten years, I think. My grandfather - I forget how many 'greats' belong in front of 'grandfather' but there should be several – bought it for my grandmother from those men. Brothers, I think."
Brothers again. No way in hell from what Riley read in the letters. "Do you know why they sold?"
"One of them killed himself," she whispered conspiratorially. "I do know that much."
"Any idea why one of them killed himself?" Riley pried.
"No, I really don't know. I'm sure my grandmother knows more than me about them. She's told me stuff before, but I can't remember." She turned her head toward a summons from the back. "That's your lunch," she said.
Riley's stomach tingled with excitement. He couldn't believe this was *their* restaurant! He took another look around while he waited and had a new appreciation for the wood paneling. He tried to imagine what other décor Samuel and James would have selected; he was damn sure it wouldn't have been red plastic booths. He bit his bottom lip to contain a smile as he studied the picture again.
The men stood close, but the physical contact was appropriate enough not to raise questions by anyone assuming them to be brothers. In this picture, their hats were perched on top of their heads and the older man proudly hung onto the lapel of his jacket as he posed for the camera. The younger man's jacket was pushed back on one side, held in place by his forearm while his hand rested inside the slit of his pocket. Riley squinted and looked closely at the spotted yellowed picture and smiled. He slipped his hand in the pocket of his jeans and clasped the pocket watch; the same watch whose chain hung from the vest pocket of the younger man in the picture.
"Here you go." Peggy came back with two Styrofoam containers, which she placed into a bag. Grabbing a wad of napkins from the metal container on the counter, she shoved those in the bag, too. "I tossed in some ketchup in case you need it for the fries."
"I'd love to talk to your grandmother about the original owners," Riley said, tapping his forefinger against the men in the picture. "Do you think she'd be willing to talk to me?"
"Oh, sure," Peggy said with a shooing wave of her hand. "She's never met a stranger. If you're going to be around Sunday, I'll tell her to drop by. She goes to that Presbyterian church next to your house faithfully. Never misses a service. $10.65 is your total."
"Thanks. That would be great if she'd stop by," Riley said, digging in his back pocket for his wallet. "We should be around all day."
~~~~~~~~~
Riley peeled apart the burger in the first Styrofoam container and found ketchup.
"This is yours," he said as Colin took a seat on the front porch steps of the home where he had been working. Colin dug into his burger, famished from working and more than ready for lunch.
"So what do you think?" Riley asked, popping a fry into his mouth.
"It's pretty good," he said as he chewed.
"Not about the burger," Riley said with a roll of his eyes. "About Samuel and James. I think maybe they led me to their old restaurant."
Colin chuckled. "We've been talking about stopping there for weeks."
"Yeah, but we haven't," Riley stated.
"It'll be interesting to hear what the lady has to say, if she actually stops by. Maybe she'll know more about them."
"Yeah, I hope so. It might answer some questions. Like for instance, which one is which?"
"Right."
"You think she'll come by?"
"I don't know," Colin said.
Riley held off broaching the next topic until he had taken another couple of bites. He finally dove in. "You know what I was thinking?"
"What?"
"Maybe we need a psychic. Wait," Riley said, holding up his hand, "before you say 'no' --."
"No."
"Colin! Why not?" Riley demanded.
"Because. Most of them are frauds, if not all of them."
"Would you put reason aside for just *one* minute please?"
"Riley, do you honestly think we need a psychic?" Colin wiped a smudge of hamburger grease off the corner of Riley's mouth.
Riley pulled away and wiped his mouth himself, checking his thumb to investigate whether he got it or not. He licked the mayo off his thumb and said, "I think we need more than a trunk full of letters."
"What do you hope to gain by getting a psychic to come in?"
"To get some answers and hopefully put the spirit at rest so we can get some ourselves."
"I don't think so."
"What are you waiting for? To see him yourself?"
"Wasn't it you that I was talking to this morning when I said I didn't want you obsessing over this?" Colin asked firmly.
Riley's flat stare penetrated Colin, his long-faced expression being all the answer he was willing to share. Colin saw trouble on the horizon. This mystery was threatening to consume Riley, and Colin had no intention of letting that happen - ghost or not.
"I mean it, Riley. This is beginning to get out of hand. It's all we're talking about anymore."
"Well, maybe if we had some answers, we wouldn't have anything to talk about."
"The more answers you get, the more you seem to think about it. Did you ever stop to think that maybe that's why you're having nightmares?"
This conversation was going nowhere. "Never mind," Riley snapped, shutting down the argument.
Colin laid down his burger and laced his fingers between his knees. Looking directly at his lover, he said, "Riley."
"What?" Riley replied despondently, picking at his food.
"I'm going to need more evidence that the things that have been happening are supernatural before I'd even consider a psychic. I'm not having our house become Séance Central."
"Fine, I said. We won't bring in a psychic. Ok?"
The words were right, but Colin couldn't be sure the emotion was behind them. Colin shook his head and picked his burger up again. No matter how much he studied Riley, he couldn't get a read.
Having no other alternative, he accepted the words as gospel. "Ok then. How's your ankle?"
Riley rotated his ankle and winced. "It's stiff and a little sore."
"You've done too much today," he summed up. "You should prop it up when you go home and give it a rest."
"I will."
"Is it swollen?"
Riley pulled the hem of his boot-leg jeans out of the way and checked it out. "Looks a little bigger than usual."
Colin looked at the ankle carefully and raised the hem of the other leg to compare against the uninjured control subject. "Looks swollen to me. Take a pain pill if you need to."
"I will."
Colin closed the lid on his lunch container and dropped it back into the bag. "You about ready to head home?"
"Ready."
He was more than ready. He had a Ouija board waiting for him.
~~~~~~~~~
Riley went straight to the plastic shopping bags in the kitchen as soon as Colin dropped him off. He eagerly pulled the game box out of the bag and a nervous wave of tingles washed over him. It was different than he remembered it as a kid, the new packaging more colorful with the sun and moon caricatured in hues of deep blue. The new and improved game glowed in the dark according to the label, but it was still the "mysterious, mystifying game" that it was when Riley saw it on the shelves of the toy stores back in his childhood.
He hadn't played with a Ouija board since he was about nine years old when his cousin Kaylee got one for her birthday. He grinned to himself as he remembered them sitting around the board, the girls wanting to know who they would marry, and the guys being totally grossed out by such questions. As much as they wanted to believe the planchette was moving on its own, they spent their time around the game board blaming each other for having moved the little platform.
His mother about had a coronary when she came into Kaylee's bedroom and saw Riley's fingers on the planchette. He spent the ride home assuring her it was only a game while she countered that it was a spirit conjurer and anything that roused the souls of the dead had to be *evil*. Capital "e".
Riley hoped that his mother had been right in part. Evil, capital "e", wasn't appealing but he sincerely longed for this board to give him some answers from the spirit world. If that meant talking to the dead, then so be it. The dead were the only ones with any answers, it seemed.
Riley anxiously took out his pocketknife and ran the razor sharp blade around the perimeter of the box, freeing it of its plastic wrapper then he lifted the top away. The wooden board lay inside, the alphabet painted in a semi-circular wash across the center of the board, the numbers one through zero underneath. Riley nervously withdrew the planchette.
Could this little teardrop-shaped thing really transverse the board by itself? Or rather, be pushed along with spiritual help? Riley pulled the Ouija board and the directions from the box and cleared the table then reverently placed the board in front of him. It seemed so simple; too simple.
He needed something more, something with a connection to the spirit he wanted to reach. The watch, he thought with a smile. He pulled the pocket watch from his jeans and flipped open the lid: still ticking. Riley laid it out on the table next to the Ouija board, hoping something familiar would entice the spirit to make contact.
All he had left to do was attach the glide feet to the bottom of the planchette, and he popped those into place according to the instruction manual. He gave it a few practice swipes across the board and it slid easily, as smooth as butter. Setting the planchette in the middle of the board between the alphabet and numbers, Riley took a deep breath and settled his fingers gingerly along the outer edge.
Riley could hear no sound in the house save that of his heart's heavy pounding in his chest. His arid throat clicked when he swallowed. Was he ready for this? What if he actually got a response to his questions? Was he prepared to deal with a response as well as none at all? He took a deep cleansing breath and gathered his resolve. He was going to do this, answer or no answer.
"Who are you?" he asked the board.
Hearing his voice in the deadly quiet of the house left him feeling as silly as he did at nine, only this time, he didn't have childish wonder to blame his actions on. He was a grown man, talking to a stupid board! Staring at the unmoving planchette under his fingertips, he wished it to move so he could save his dignity, if only in his own mind. The planchette, unhearing of Riley's wishes, continued to lie dormant. Colin was right; there was nothing in the house. No one.
But he knew what he had seen! Riley determinedly asked again only a little louder. "Who are you? What is your name?"
Riley stared unblinking at the motionless planchette that remained centered on the board, oblivious to the questions asked of it, or unhearing of the answers. Riley looked around the room for any visiting apparitions who might be hovering nearby but not in the mood to talk: the room was empty.
Riley's eyes scanned the two words inscribed at the top corners of the board: yes beside the sun and no next to the moon.
"Did I ask you the wrong question?" he mused aloud, almost to himself. He needed more simplistic questions, ones with yes or no answers. "Are you here?"
He waited breathlessly, watching little platform but it maintained its motionless vigil, delivering no message from the grave. Riley huffed and sat back, shoving the board away from him. Maybe it *was* just a game. Or maybe it was real but there wasn't anyone around to speak through it.
Maybe Colin was right.
"I know what I saw," he grumbled to himself. "If there are no ghosts here, then I'm a nutcase."
He grimaced when he shoved the chair back to stand and he grabbed for his ankle. It ached and screamed with stabbing pain when put his weight on it. He had been on his foot most of the day and he did it without using his crutches. That was about as stupid as expecting to hear something from Samuel or James through the Ouija game. He had to give his ankle a rest before he was joined to the crutches 24/7 again.
Giving up on the Ouija board, Riley put the works back in the box and hid it in a cabinet they barely used to keep it from Colin's eyes. Not yet willing to admit defeat, he vowed to try it again later, but for the moment, he wanted to get into his sweat shorts and stretch out on the sofa to give his ankle a break. He got to the kitchen door before he remembered to go back for the watch on the table. Out of habit, he flipped open the top once again but this time, found the hands still.
2:05. Riley studied the watch carefully. He couldn't blame it for stopping; he was frankly surprised it ran at all after lying in the trunk for so long. He reset the watch and wound it once again then went upstairs to change. He grabbed the letters from Colin's nightstand before he collected his crutches and went downstairs to get comfortable on the sofa. He was going to be doing some reading that afternoon.
~~~~~~~
When Colin came home, he found Riley still on the sofa and reading the letters.
"Hi, babe," he said, leaning over to kiss Riley.
"Hi."
"Riley," he said disappointedly. "Have you been reading these letters all afternoon?"
Riley slipped over, giving Colin enough of the edge of the couch to put a cheek on. "What? You said I could read them."
Colin shook his head and looked at the ceiling. "I also said to quit obsessing. Did you have to spend the whole afternoon submerging yourself in Samuel and James’ history?"
"I didn't do it the *whole* afternoon."
"The better part of it, I'm sure."
"I'm done now. I won't read them anymore today, ok?"
Colin got up and stacked the papers together into a neat pile. "Well?"
"What?"
"Are you going to tell me what they said, or do I have to read them, too?"
"Well, I can tell you, they weren't brothers."
"No? I didn't think so."
Riley rifled through the pages, glancing at them as he did so then pulled one out in particular. "Read this one."
Colin took the letter with a pointed glare at Riley.
Dearest S.,
I am anxiously awaiting your arrival. The house is beautiful but I hate living here without you. I was sorry to hear of your mother's passing. I hope you find comfort in the fact that she no longer suffers.
I will be waiting for you at the train depot in three weeks. I struggle not to go there now and await you as though if I do not, I might miss your arrival. My body breaks out in a sheen of sweat as I think of our reunion together. I want your body beside mine, mine inside yours. I must write of other things, for three weeks seems like an eternity at this moment!
The papers are drawn up for the restaurant and we merely need to sign to make it ours. Despite current economical conditions, I feel the townspeople will eat at the Tea Room enough to support our venture, not to mention it stands adjacent to the train station. Travelers must eat, after all, so our decision to have the restaurant close to the depot was a good one. The townsfolk are expecting my brother to arrive to manage the restaurant with me and do the cooking. My brother! Oh, that we could openly express our love!
No consequence. We do not need the approval of society to share what we have.
Until soon, J.
Colin laid the letter on top of the stack.
"You were right," Riley announced.
"I guess so."
Riley reached for the letters again and searched for another only to be stopped by Colin. "Wait, Colin, I'm looking for something."
"You're done looking for today," he said mildly, not releasing the letters he now held. "Remember? Your words."
"But, Colin!"
"That's enough, Riley. What do you want for dinner?"
"I just want to show you one more thing," Riley complained plaintively, reaching again for the stack in Colin's hand.
Colin easily moved them out of Riley's reach. "I said that's enough for now. I'll read these after we eat. Dinner?"
"You're not the least bit curious?" Riley asked folding his arms across his chest.
"I'm curious, but I'll read these later, I said. Dinner. What'll it be?"
"I don't know. Pizza?"
"We ate junk for lunch. How about chicken or steak on the grill?"
"Which is quicker to thaw? Chicken?"
"Chicken probably. Boneless breasts."
"I guess chicken then," Riley replied.
Colin bent over to kiss Riley's head. "Ok. I'll get started on that. How's the ankle?"
"It's still swollen," Riley grimaced. "A little sore, too."
"Were you on it much this afternoon?"
"No, only to use the bathroom and get something to drink."
"You'll need to take it a little easier tomorrow. Give it a break."
"Yeah," Riley agreed.
"I'll be back shortly."
"Can I help with anything?"
"No, just keep your foot up. I've got it."
"Colin, just order pizza," Riley suggested guiltily. "I don't want you cooking for me after you've worked all day. I feel like a shit."
"Well, stop it," Colin said mildly. "It won't take 20 minutes to do something with some dead bird."
"Gross. That's real appetizing."
~~~~~~~~
Riley woke up with a start in the middle of the night, heart beating wildly and his breaths coming short and shallow. He couldn't remember a nightmare, and was unsure of what had actually awakened him. He rolled over and looked at the clock.
2:05.
He frowned. This was becoming a habit. Weird. He rolled over against Colin and ran his leg between Colin's causing his lover to shift slightly in response despite being deep in sleep.
Riley lay there, wide awake, his mind running at high octane. The letters had revealed quite a bit about the two men's personalities, but not a lot more. The letters had abruptly stopped, probably with Samuel's arrival after his mother died. Riley still didn't know which man was which in the picture, but he knew Samuel was the cook and the one who lost his mother. James seemed to be the businessman of the two from the things he said in the letters about the restaurant, but aside from that, Riley didn't know a lot more. Whatever caused one to kill himself must have happened after the letters stopped because neither seemed depressed from what Riley read, only anxious to be together again.
Riley wished he knew which one was the specter and better yet, what he wanted. Were both men's spirits in the house? Maybe Riley had only seen one but they were both here. He wished he knew. He looked at the clock again and let out a deep breath. 2:25. He wasn't the least bit tired. He thought of the Ouija board hidden in the cabinet. Colin would have a cow if he knew Riley had been fooling around with that.
But Riley couldn't get his mind off it. Slipping from the bed, he tiptoed down to the kitchen, leaving Colin to sleep on while he gave the board another chance to talk to him.
He pulled it from under the cabinet and arranged it on the kitchen table once again with a guilty glance over his shoulder for Colin. He rubbed his sweaty palms down his legs before putting his fingers on the platform.
"Are you here?" he whispered.
Riley held his breath, waiting for an answer, but again, the planchette refused to move.
"Please answer me," Riley implored. "I need to know who you are."
He looked around the kitchen, hoping again for some sign that the spirit was there but saw nothing. He turned his attention back to the board.
"Are you Samuel?"
He adjusted his touch on the planchette and asked again. "Are you James? Please tell me. I want to help."
The planchette sat as lifeless as the person Riley hoped to contact.
"Are you… Samuel?" Riley enunciated carefully, repeating the first question.
"Riley."
Riley's blood ran as cold as ice through his veins, his body temperature no match for the chill tapping down his spine.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Riley began to breathe again as he recognized the voice was that of his partner and not Samuel or James.
"Colin!" Riley exclaimed, jumping to his feet while favoring his bad ankle.
Colin stood with his hands on his hips, his brow knitted in agitation. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked again.
"Nothing," Riley answered guiltily, trying to hide the incriminating evidence behind him.
"Is that what I think it is?" Colin asked with a directed look toward the table.
"It's just a game. It doesn't work," Riley announced with an indifferent shrug. "It didn't work just now and it didn't work this afternoon."
"Is that what you were doing all afternoon?" Colin demanded to know.
"For some of it," Riley admitted as he headed toward the door. "Let's just forget it and go back to bed, ok? I'm an idiot for thinking it might work."
Colin took Riley's arm as he passed by and smacked his butt hard enough that Riley arched his back to get away from the few stinging swats.
"Colin!" Riley complained, flailing his free hand in hopes of fending off the swats.
"I don't want to hear it," Colin replied sharply, cutting off the argument before it could get going. "You're lucky it's two in the morning or you'd get more than that. We're going to bed for now, but we aren't forgetting anything."
The kitchen light began to flicker and Riley's eyes darted to the fixture, the stinging below his waist taking second place in importance.
"It's him," Riley said in fascinated wonder.
"Stop it," Colin ordered sharply with another swat. "I have had about enough of ghosts and goblins and things that go bump in the night."
He roughly pressed the button on the light switch, effectively silencing the flickering bulb. A glow from the kitchen table gave him pause until he realized the damn board was a glow in the dark. He shook his head and hauled Riley by the wrist back to bed.
"I cannot believe you bought a Ouija board," Colin chastened as they climbed the stairs.
"I don't know why you're surprised. You said no psychics and I had to do something."
"I believe you had already done your shopping before we had that discussion. Am I wrong?"
Riley groaned. It was bad enough that he got busted with the Ouija board in the middle of the night but it seemed the more he talked about it, the deeper he was getting.
"No. I got mixed up."
"That usually happens when you try to hide things," Colin reported darkly.
Riley cringed and felt his cheeks warm as blood rose to them. "I'm sorry, Colin. I knew you'd think I was stupid so I didn't want to tell you."
"I don't think you're stupid and you know it. Get back in bed."
Riley climbed beneath the sheets, shrunken from being dressed down by Colin's displeasure. Colin switched off the light with a snap and got in bed beside Riley, tangibly feeling the distance between them.
"I'm sorry, Colin," Riley apologized sincerely, keeping to his side of the bed. "I felt stupid for believing it might work."
Colin sighed and reached for Riley. "Come here."
Riley hesitated but reluctantly let go of the sheets clutched to his chest to curl up against Colin.
Colin stroked the dark head resting against his shoulder and said, "I told you several times today to stop obsessing over this. There's not but so much I can do to keep you distracted while you're laid up at home, but you need to do something besides think about Samuel and James every waking minute."
"I can't help it. I want to know what happened."
"When it gets to a point you're sneaking around, then it's gone too far. Do you understand me?"
"Yes. I said I was sorry."
"I know but that doesn't mean we aren't discussing this in the morning. The middle of the night isn't the time."
Great. Riley's stomach twisted with Colin's words. He knew he was in trouble, the only question being how much. He had been warned not once, but several times not to obsess about the house and the men. He couldn't stop himself! It seemed as though every waking thought – and some while he slept – was wrapped up in the past and putting the pieces of the puzzle together. He wished he could make Colin understand how he felt, but the fact was, Colin saw this differently. When they disagreed, Colin's way trumped Riley's and Riley had been told not to obsess.
"Don't spank me for this, ok?" Riley implored.
"I'll decide what needs to be done. Right now, we need to sleep."
~~~~~~
Morning came after a restless night and Riley woke to Colin gently shaking him. He opened his eyes and found his partner sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Morning," Colin said.
"Morning."
Colin was fully dressed, his hair still damp, and he smelled of fresh soap. Riley had slept through Colin's alarm and his shower, and would have probably still been asleep had Colin not just wakened him.
"Ready to get up?" Colin asked.
Memories of the night's happenings haunted Riley as he thought about facing his partner. "Not really," Riley answered miserably.
"Meet me downstairs," Colin said with a pat to Riley's thigh through the sheet. Colin got up from the bed and left the room without another word.
Riley moaned and threw his arm over his eyes. What a shitty way to start the day! Riley got up and put a tentative foot to the carpet. He winced as he tried to stand on his bad ankle. He really overdid it the day before. It was still looking a little swollen and it was hurting, too. At least he would have an excuse to take a pain pill after Colin was finished with him. It would help more than just his ankle.
He grabbed his crutches from the end of the bed, frowning at them as though his predicament were their fault. As much as he hated them, he knew he was going to need them that day. He made a run to the bathroom before taking the dreaded walk downstairs to meet his partner. Taking a wild guess, Riley went to the office instead of the kitchen. Just as he expected, Colin was in there, waiting patiently at the desk for Riley to arrive.
"Have a seat," Colin said, motioning for the sofa.
Riley tried to swallow as Colin took a seat beside him.
"I don't appreciate you hiding things from me, Riley. We don't do that."
"I knew you'd be mad if I told you, though. I was hoping to find out something using it."
Colin shook his head. "That's no excuse."
Riley struggled to keep his eyes on Colin, the simple act taking more strength than he thought he had. He managed it, despite the disappointed look he was getting from his partner.
"You're right, Colin. I'm sorry."
"I appreciate that, Riley. I don't expect it to happen again, do you understand?"
"Yes. It won't, I swear. I just wish you'd understand better."
Colin took Riley's hand. "I'm trying to understand. I really am. What I *do* get is that you're entirely too caught up in this. I asked you to back off, and you bought a Ouija board."
"I know. I should have told you."
Riley spoke as contritely as he could, which didn't take a lot of effort. He really felt like crap at having hidden the board from Colin, but he knew it wouldn't go over well and he was right. He was equally as certain things would be less ugly had he told Colin.
"The fact that you didn't tell me says a lot. You knew I wouldn't like it. Since you chose to hide it, you're going to be punished."
Riley's stomach catapulted without warning toward his toes. This was it. The ruination of the morning and most of the day.
"Since you can't seem to find something else to think about, I'm going to be sure you have something to occupy you as well as remind you that we don't keep secrets," Colin pronounced and pulled a notepad from the nearby end table.
Riley looked at the notepad in surprise. "What? Lines?"
"You were expecting something else?"
Riley momentarily struggled with the right answer. "Well, sort of."
"Do you *want* me to spank you?"
"Hell, no!" Riley exclaimed. "That's not –"
Riley studied his partner of six years and had a suspicion. "It was the flying books from last time, wasn't it? You're spooked more than you'll let on."
Colin replied crisply, "Let me be crystal clear here, Riley. If I catch you up in the middle of the night researching this house or those men again, you'll get spanked. No more lines, no more lectures, no more chances. Got it?"
Riley nodded under Colin's close scrutiny. "I got it. Forget that I said anything."
"All right," Colin said, softening a bit. He handed Riley the notepad. "Here's what I want you to write, 100 times. See if that can't occupy you today."
100 times should do the trick, Riley thought as he read over the lengthy sentence.
"It will," Riley assured him.
"I put the letters back in the trunk and locked it. I'm keeping the key until I feel like you can handle it and then I'm going to only give you limited access for a while." To drive the message home, Colin slid the key into his jeans' pocket.
Riley's mouth flew open at the declaration. It was worse than having to write the lines. "Colin! I can handle it!"
"I'm glad because I'm keeping it locked for a while."
"The letters and stuff are not why I'm seeing ghosts!"
"Riley, I'm not debating this with you."
Riley puffed up angrily, biting his lip before things got any worse.
"All right. I need to get to work and you need to get some lines written."
Colin stood up and pulled Riley to his feet. After a quick kiss goodbye, he asked, "How's the ankle this morning?"
"It hurts," Riley relayed dismally.
"Why don't you take something and put your foot up? Want me to fix you a quick breakfast before I go?"
"No."
"I think I'll fix you something anyway," Colin said.
He took the notepad so Riley didn't have to manage it and his crutches on the way to the living room then made sure Riley was comfortable before heading back to the kitchen to make some toast and coffee. He popped a few slices of toast into the toaster then went to make Riley's coffee while he waited. As he stirred the creamer into the mug, something in the corner of the room caught his eye near the basement door. He looked to his right and immediately recognized the teardrop-shaped object in the floor: the planchette from Riley's Ouija game. Colin frowned at the tiny platform, waiting to give up secrets from an accompanying board of letters it had been separated from.
Colin shook his head. He could have sworn he put that thing in the box earlier. He picked it up and tossed it in the kitchen junk drawer until he had time to put it back in the box. He didn't have time to rummage the box out of its hiding place where he had carefully stashed it so Riley wouldn't be tempted. The junk drawer was a more appropriate place for the planchette anyway. That's where it belonged. With other junk.
"Ok," Colin said, returning to the living room with Riley's breakfast. "You have toast, coffee, a pain pill, your notepad and the remote. Anything else? And don't ask for the key to the trunk."
Riley clamped his mouth on the preempted request and cast Colin a disgruntled silent plea for the key instead. Colin shook his head and protectively patted the pocket where the key lay.
"No. Thanks," Riley said in defeat.
"I'm heading out then." Colin planted a firm kiss on Riley's lips. "Call if you need me."
Riley sighed and reached for the notepad, reading the sentence Colin had written out for him. After about 45 minutes of scribbling his lines, Riley's mind was numb from the pain meds and the repeating script. He laid the pen down and shook out his hand then rubbed his eyes. Despite the reiteration of the point Colin intended to make, Riley's thoughts stubbornly turned back to the trunk. The locked trunk.
He couldn't believe Colin locked away the letters and took the key! That was overboard. Riley wasn't obsessed! Reading those letters just helped him better understand the people who seemed to inhabit their home; that was all. Being deprived of the letters made Riley want to read them even more, just like chocolate became a dieter's world as soon as it was off limits. He tried to remember the words he had read before Colin confiscated the age-old notes. Even though he couldn't remember them verbatim, there was no forgetting the love expressed between the two men.
Riley turned his thoughts back to his lines. There was no point in worrying about it. The key was gone and the trunk off limits. He jotted down another sentence and his eyes threatened to cross as drugged sleep tried to overtake him. Riley laid his notepad aside and reached for the crutches, needing a nap more than he needed to finish the lines right then. The bed seemed like a better option than the sofa, which was growing old with all the time Riley spent on it lately.
His mouth stretched into a gaping yawn as he entered the bedroom. Laying his crutches against the nightstand, he sat on the side of the bed and rubbed his face. He paused when he noticed a familiar yet ancient object lying almost inconspicuously on the nightstand.
The key to the trunk.
TBC
