Chapter Nine
by Nelson
Warnings: I think this one's ok. Nothing major to warn you about.
~~~~~~~~
Riley picked up the antique key, the weight of it satisfyingly heavy in the palm of his hand. His long fingers folded over it and he gripped it securely in his fist. The tucked-away letters beckoned to him, their enticing voices thudding flatly against a purposely built wall. Riley bring himself to open the trunk no matter how much he wanted to. Colin had forbidden it. Had the trunk been off-limits for any other reason than punishment, Riley might have considered it, but he couldn't bring himself to disrespect Colin's authority to that extent.
He put the key back where he had found it and stretched out on the bed, deliberately putting aside the temptation to get to the letters. Staring at the ceiling, he spoke to the empty room.
"Are you here?"
His question was once again met with silence. "Of course not. You're like a fucking cat. You only want to be sociable when you decide to be."
Riley huffed in frustration and rolled over on his side away from the key, his eyes slipping closed as soon as he made himself comfortable.
~~~~~~
The day dragged on for an eternity with nothing to do but stare aimlessly at the TV and finish writing his lines. Riley carefully rose from the sofa, paying special attention to his ankle, when he thankfully heard the rumble of the truck pulling up to the front of the house.
He flung the door open eagerly before Colin had a chance to get within ten feet of the porch. Leaning through the open storm door, Riley welcomed his partner. "Hi. I thought you'd never get home."
"Hi," Colin replied dolefully.
Riley's shoulders slumped at the lackluster reply as Colin focused more attention on the sidewalk under his feet than on his awaiting partner.
"What's wrong? Are you tired?" Riley asked as stepped back to let Colin in.
"A little." Colin kissed him hello, but still struggled to meet Riley's eyes. "How was your day?"
"Boring as hell." Colin smiled at the reply, but the smile never reached his eyes, still flat and distant. Riley felt the cool withdrawal as though it were tangible. "Are you still ticked at me or something?"
Colin's eyes met Riley's unwavering. "No. God, no. You know I wouldn't hold anything over your head."
"What, then?"
"I don't know how to tell you this," Colin said more to himself than to Riley, his fingertips kneading his forehead.
Riley's heartbeat quickened. It was bad news. Something horrible had happened.
"What? What, Colin?" he asked anxiously.
Colin's hands trailed down the length of Riley's arms, ending with a reassuring grip on Riley's hands. "I don't know how it happened, but I lost the key."
Riley exhaled in relief. "To the trunk?"
Colin sighed and nodded his head in remorse. "Yeah. I'm so sorry. I only wanted to keep you out of the trunk long enough to get your head straight, not take it away forever."
Riley grinned. "Damn, Colin, you scared me. You didn't lose the key. You left it upstairs. Is your memory starting to go?"
Colin frowned and shook his head, his face clouded in confusion. "No, I didn't. I didn't go back upstairs before I left. You saw me put it in my pocket right here in the living room."
"It's on the nightstand. Go look if you don't believe me."
"I believe you. I just – I don't understand. How did it get --," Colin paused then saw the smirk on his partner's face. "Quit it, Riley. Don't look at me like that. It was *not* a ghost."
"Really. Then explain how it got upstairs when you didn't even *go* upstairs."
Colin had no idea. He replayed the morning's events just like he had done a million times that day. He distinctly remembered putting the key in his pocket, he knew he had! He remembered Riley's wide eyes glued to it until it disappeared into the depths of his pocket. All day long he assumed it worked its way out somehow and that it was lost somewhere between leaving the living room and coming home. His relief at learning the key wasn't missing in action was darkly overshadowed by where it was found. It was impossible for the key to simply turn up on the nightstand, yet it had done just that. Colin couldn't explain it anymore than he could accept a ghost theory.
"I don't know. I don't know how it got upstairs," Colin stated calmly. "But it wasn't a ghost."
"God! You're so stubborn!" Riley left Colin in a huff and went back to his seat on the sofa, snapping the channel button on the remote too quickly to actually see what was on TV.
"Don't storm off from me, Riley," Colin warned, following in Riley's angry wake. He took the remote from Riley and moved it to safety onto the coffee table.
"You're frustrating the crap out of me," Riley announced. "I don't know why you can't even try to see what I do."
"I'm sorry, but I could say the same thing to you, you know. The fact is, we're both seeing things from opposite spectrums. That probably won't change. Getting pissed at me isn't going to make me see things your way."
"Yeah, but I get punished for seeing things differently from you."
Colin's brow crept up in surprise and Riley dropped his gaze at the unspoken reprimand.
"I know, I'm sorry. I know I didn't get punished for that," Riley back-pedaled contritely. He offered the notepad to Colin to change the subject to less contentious territory. "Speaking of which, I finished my lines."
Colin took the notepad from Riley but maintained his hard look before glancing at his work. He flipped through the pages to be sure they were done completely then tossed the notebook back on the coffee table. "Good job."
"Thanks," Riley said, proud with the compliment and relieved that Colin hadn't pursued his snippy comment beyond a displeased expression. "I didn't go back in the trunk, by the way. Even though I had the key."
Colin hooked his arm around Riley's neck and pulled him close to kiss his cheek. "I appreciate that. I know how tempting it must have been."
"It was. Very," Riley said, looking at his hands. "How long are you going to keep it locked?"
"I honestly don't know. That will depend on you. We'll take it a day at a time."
That could be a long time, Riley determined. Thank God it was Friday. At least he'd have Colin's company over the weekend as a distraction.
"What are we going to do this weekend?" Riley wondered.
"We could start on the kitchen cabinets. We can work on the doors and drawer fronts sitting down. It might help you think of something else."
"That's a good idea. Maybe we could go to Home Depot and pick out some new pulls, too."
"Yeah. The pulls can make as much difference as refinishing."
Riley leaned against Colin. "I’m glad you're home. I'm getting sick of being stuck here by myself."
Which was probably the prime reason for the obsession, Colin realized. Long used to being active, Riley was bored out of his mind.
"I'm glad to be here," Colin said. "You'll have me all weekend."
~~~~~~~
Riley gradually crept out of the dark depths of sleep into consciousness, his mind grappling with whether or not the persistent knocking he was hearing was for real or the remnants of a fading dream.
"Damn it." Colin cursed, waking Riley fully between his grumblings and the shifting of the bed as he got up.
"What's going on?" Riley asked groggily.
"I'm going to find out. What the hell could be so important at 9:00 on a Sunday morning?" Colin fussed as he pulled on a robe with a frustrated tug.
Riley dragged himself out of bed to check out the bedroom window to see who might be coming to call on a Sunday morning. He yawned and squinted against the morning sun and scratched his stomach as he peered out the window. There weren't any cars in front of their house except their truck, the only other cars being those parked along the street in front of the church. It was Sunday! It was Peggy's grandmother from the restaurant. Had to be. How had he forgotten!
He quickly found his own robe and heard Colin's voice as he eagerly descended the stairs.
"I appreciate the offer, but we're just getting out of bed," he was saying. "We have a lot planned to do today. Maybe another time—"
"Good morning," Riley greeted the elderly lady as he pushed past Colin to step onto the porch. He self-consciously ran his fingers through his hair to make himself somewhat presentable, and smiled warmly at the elderly lady.
"You must be Peggy's grandmother." He extended a hand to introduce himself. "I'm Riley."
"Yes, nice to meet you," she replied, the grip of her handshake surprisingly strong in light of her aged and slumped body.
"Colin, this is the lady I told you about."
"Oh, right. From the diner."
"Yeah. I wasn't expecting you until after church," Riley said.
"I've been meaning to stop by and invite you to services anyway, so I thought today was as good a day as any. Then we could have lunch at the diner after church and talk. Turkey and gravy is the special today," she said with a twinkle still alight in her dim eyes.
"Um…" Riley started, then looked over his shoulder at Colin. "We aren't even dressed."
"That's why I came over early. Services don't start until 11:00. I get here early to set up my classroom for Sunday School. You have plenty of time. I'll save you a seat." Her smile belied the persistency in her conversation.
"Ok, we'll come," Riley succumbed, agreeing for both of them. Colin cleared his throat behind Riley and he added, "Well, I don't know if Colin will come, but I'll be there."
"Wonderful," she smiled, her wrinkled hands coming together for a single clap. "No need to dress fancy."
"Jeans are ok for church?"
"We'll be glad to have you no matter what you wear," she smiled. "I'll save you a seat. See you at 11."
"Ok, bye," Riley said, then closed the door behind him as he went back inside.
"Thanks a lot," Colin grumbled.
"Come on, Colin. How long could it last? We'll have lunch and hopefully, she can tell us something that makes sense about James and Samuel."
"Let's just hope she isn't over here every week, dragging our asses out of bed for church."
"She won't," Riley assured him, as he pressed close to Colin's body. Wrapping his arms around his unhappy mate, he said, "We have plenty of time if there's anything you want to do before we have to leave."
The lines in Colin's furrowed brow softened and he smiled. "That might just be worth getting up for," he replied, kissing Riley hard.
~~~~~~~~~
The service lasted exactly an hour and it was long enough as far as Riley was concerned. The hard pews offered nothing but rigid support, not an ounce of padding like in some of the newer churches he had been in. The dark paneling overpowered the few chandeliers hanging from the vaulted ceilings, making the sanctuary seem starkly dim despite it being the middle of the day. Beautiful stained glass windows adorned each of the two side walls with three more windows behind the pulpit, capturing the light that tried to come through in the colored panes of glass. Each window portrayed a different illuminated scene from the life of Christ, from the Shepherd to the Sacrificed.
The balcony in the back had been long-ago sealed off, but Riley could still see the railing that protected parishioners from years gone by from falling twelve feet to the main floor. As the pastor droned on, Riley looked ahead, but his thoughts turned to the past. He envisioned a dapper couple posing as brothers sitting there in the privacy of the balcony and listening to the reverend in their day. Or did they sit in the main sanctuary, mingling and interacting with the local parishioners? Did they keep a low profile or try to blend in? In his mind's eye he saw them entering through the narrow church doorway, the doors unnaturally tapered and elongated beyond the typical seven feet of the day.
Riley tried to clamp his jaw closed against a yawn that threatened to escape and he was thankfully saved by further such action by the pastor inviting the congregation to rise and sing. As the organist played the final chords of the closing song, Riley felt a flutter of excitement at the prospect of learning more about their home's original residents.
Members of the congregation descended upon them as soon as the service ended, offering handshakes of welcome before Colin and Riley could leave. Margaret encouraged the behavior by calling people over if they hadn't elected come on their own. Colin and Riley graciously met more people than they could remember, although the little church had no more than 30 or 35 people in attendance, including the pastor and his family.
"Thank you for coming," Margaret said genuinely as they left the church.
"Thanks for inviting us," Riley replied. "We're not really big churchgoers but it was nice to feel welcome."
"Please come as often as you'd like," she invited. "We'll always love to have you."
"We appreciate the offer," Colin said.
"It's such a beautiful day, it's too bad we can't walk to the diner," Riley recommended.
Colin looked to Riley with a glance toward his ankle.
"I can walk, just not that far," Riley said confidently.
"I don't think *I* could walk that far," Margaret laughed. "I noticed you limping."
"It's nothing. Just a slight sprain," Riley assured her. Offering her his arm, he asked, "Shall we?"
"I'll drive us over," Margaret offered. "I'm parked over there. Let's go this way."
Following Margaret's lead, they walked toward the car by way of the graveyard.
"These headstones are ancient," Riley commented as they cut through.
"No one's been buried here in a long time. Most folks have family plots at the county cemetery behind the railroad tracks. Here it is. I don't know if you've seen this," she said, stopping in front of one aged headstone.
Riley felt chills run over his arms as he read the name, engraved in scripted letters. James Clemons, died October 20, 1902. He had never even considered that the men could be buried next door in the church cemetery.
"It's him," Riley said in wonder, his voice barely above a whisper.
"One of them," Margaret corrected. "This one killed himself. Hanged himself right there in your house."
Riley's nightmare came rushing back to him and he glanced toward Colin. "Hanged himself? He didn't happen to do it in the attic, did he?"
Margaret looked at him in surprise. "Why, yes. He certainly did. How did you know?"
"Hunch, I guess."
Margaret ran her hand over the top of the headstone. "So sad. He must have been planning it because he sold the restaurant to my grandfather before he died. Been in my family ever since."
"Does anyone know why he did it? Did he leave a note or anything?" Colin asked.
"Nothing. Everyone assumed he died of grief over the loss of his brother."
"He died, too?" Riley asked.
"No, but he left. James told folks that his brother had to go take care of their father. Said he was terribly sick and didn't know if Samuel would be able to come back. He was never the same after his brother left. Said he couldn't run the restaurant without Samuel when he sold it to my family."
"Did anyone ever think," Riley paused, "ever think that maybe, well, maybe Samuel died in the house, too?"
"No, no reason to think that," Margaret said, frowning in reflection of the stories she had heard over the years. "Everyone believed James when he told them his brother had gone away."
"Who found James?" Colin asked.
"The pastor," she said, shaking her head. "He had been wanting to visit since James had been so depressed. But James told him he wouldn't be available until the very day he killed himself. Told him he would be home precisely at 2:00 and not to come a minute earlier. He wanted to be found is what I think."
Riley had to remind himself to breathe. Two? Or was it closer to 2:05?
"When he got there, the front door was standing wide open. He called out but no one answered. He wondered if perhaps something bad had befallen James so he took a look around. Imagine his surprise when he saw James after climbing the attic ladder. He was so startled, he fell down the last few rungs and hurt his ankle. Sprained it or broke it, one of the two."
Riley's ankle seemed to throb with the revelation and he swallowed on a dry throat.
"I hurt my ankle falling down the attic stairs."
"Huh," she said curiously. "What a coincidence."
Coincidence, my lily white ass, Riley thought. He glanced again at Colin who shook his head almost unnoticeably.
"Yeah," Riley agreed begrudgingly. "A coincidence."
"He was able to make it across the street to a neighbor's house for help. There was no note. Nothing to let anyone know why, but everyone in town knew he hadn't been the same since his brother left." She shook her head sadly.
"You don't know anything about whatever happened to the brother?" Riley asked.
"No, not a thing. The town lost track of him once he left. They didn't have cell phones back in those days. I wonder if he even knew his brother killed himself?"
He knew something. Riley was convinced. What he wasn't convinced of was that the "brother" left town. If he did, he had died tragically judging from the apparition Riley had seen. Ghosts of people who slip away quietly in their sleep don't have the side of their heads bashed in.
"If no one knew how to reach him, I'm guessing he didn't know," Colin said.
"The house stood empty for a long time," Margaret said. "The church bought it from the bank after a while but then we didn't need it for a rectory in the last ten years or so. We rented it to a family and they didn't stay in it any time before moving. It's sat on the market for years with us renting it every now and then. No one seemed interested, then it started to go downhill fast with no one living there."
"We've done a lot of work on it," Colin said. "We still have a ton to do. As a matter of fact, we're working on the cabinets this weekend."
"Then we'd better get some lunch so I don't hold you up all day. Are we ready?" she asked.
~~~~~~~~
"Are you done with that one?" Riley pointed toward the cabinet door lying to Colin's left.
"Yeah. This one's ready to be stained." He lifted the door and passed it across the worktable to Riley.
Riley wiped his forearm across his brow. "I'll be glad when we get this shop fixed up, too. We have to put a fan in here."
"And better lighting," Colin added. "Can you see ok?"
"Yeah, I can see well enough."
Colin turned the hand sander on again, making further conversation futile against the noisy instrument. Riley dipped the rag into the can of stain and carefully swiped it across the newly sanded door in the direction of the wood grain. The door burst to life with such a small amount of new color as though it hadn't sat in an empty house for years. Riley wiped the excess stain off the door and laid it aside until Colin passed him another. They continued in silent concentration until the last drawer front was sanded.
"That's the last one," Colin said when he turned off the sander and lifted his goggles onto the top of his head. "My ears are ringing."
"Mine, too. How do they look?"
"They look like new," Colin said, admiring their handiwork. "I'll start on the varnish."
Colin sat on the opposite side of the work table and cracked open a new can of varnish then dipped the tips of his paintbrush into the thick shiny liquid.
"These are going to look great, you know it?" he admired as the varnish further enhanced the color of the new stain.
"They are." Riley tried to imagine what the finish looked like 100 years ago. "Wonder if Samuel and James would approve."
Colin replied disinterestedly, "I'm sure they'd be thrilled."
"You know what I think?"
Colin studied the tips of the brush as he swiped them carefully over the door facing he was working on. "What?"
"I think Samuel died tragically, too." Riley set a drawer front he was working on aside. "What do you think?"
"No idea. I guess we'll never know," Colin commented as he concentrated on keeping the bristles of the brush flowing smoothly.
"Unless I have another dream. We need someone like John Edward. Are you ready to get a psychic yet?"
"Hell, no," Colin said without hesitation. He paused long enough to shoot a look at his partner. "And neither are you."
"Even after hearing about the preacher falling down the attic ladder and the hanging just like in my dream?"
Colin huffed and sat back, wresting his wrist against the table to keep from getting varnish on anything. "Riley."
"What?!"
"Don't start." Colin pointed the brush at Riley to punctuate his command.
Riley refocused on his work and muttered, "It's not coincidence."
"Even Margaret thought it was."
"*She* didn't know about the dream."
"You know, I was hoping by talking to her today she'd put some of these ghostly ideas to rest, not stir up more of them."
"And I was hoping you'd at least start to believe a little bit when you heard what she had to say," Riley stated.
"It's weird, ok? I'll give you that much," Colin relented. "I get the connections. I see why you'd think the house might be haunted."
"But?"
"But I don't believe in ghosts," Colin said soberly. "That being said, there has to be some other explanation, at least in my mind. One that doesn't involve psychics and Ouija boards."
"What if you're wrong?" Riley countered.
"Then I'll admit it graciously and offer my sincerest apologies for not getting it sooner. But it's going to take a lot more than dreams and coincidences to convince me."
"Careful what you wish for," Riley mumbled, dipping his rag back into the stain.
"I'm not wishing for it, trust me. I'd like it to all go away. I'm frankly tired of hearing about it and dealing with it," Colin said, annoyance creeping into his tone.
"Fine. I'll shut up."
Colin sighed. "I don't want you to shut up. Can't you think of it in logical terms at all? Does it have to be ghosts and no other explanation?"
"I tried that. I was overruled by more and more things happening. Will you at least consider a psychic?"
"And who would you recommend we get? John Edward's all booked up for private readings."
"Very funny. I have no idea. I'd start with local readers or something, I guess. Check the web," Riley recommended.
"I don't know, Riley," Colin said.
"At least give me my Ouija board back."
"I'm not doing that."
"Why not?" Riley demanded.
"Because I'm liable to find you with it in the middle of the night again," Colin said with a brow raised at his partner.
"I won't," Riley grumbled. His eyes lit up with the spark of an idea. "I know! You can do it with me. I think it works better with two anyway."
"Even if one of the two is an unbeliever?" Colin queried.
"I don't know," Riley said. "We could try, at least."
"Not right now. You still need some time off from ghost hunting, remember?" Colin asked with a look directed across the work table.
"All right," Riley said dejectedly. At least Colin was entertaining the idea. Riley considered that a win.
"Are you finished with the staining?"
"Yeah, that's the last of it. Hand me that other brush and I'll help you with the varnish."
Colin passed Riley the extra brush and pushed the can of varnish his way. Riley's mouth stretched open in a yawn.
"Sleepy?"
"I could use a nap, yeah."
Colin stopped varnishing and assessed his lover. "Have you been napping a lot during the day?"
Riley thought about it. "I guess I have."
"That's why you aren't sleeping then. You're sleeping during the day and don't need as much at night."
"I'm tired when I go to bed though."
"But you already have some sleep in the bank. I told you there was a rational explanation."
Riley glared at Colin. "That's *one* possible reason. Doesn't mean it's *the* reason. Why always at 2:05?"
"I have no idea. Coincidence?"
"Sure it is," Riley muttered before he yawned again. "There's a hell of a lot hanging on coincidence around here."
"Cut it out, Riley," Colin reprimanded. "See if you can't make it through the day without a nap."
"If I do, will you believe me if I don't sleep all night?"
Colin gave him a half-grin. "I doubt it. You've probably trained your body not to stay asleep all night now. It's been a couple of weeks."
"Hard head."
Colin laughed. "Guilty."
~~~~
Riley rolled over in the dead of night, wide awake, and looked at the clock. 2:05. No surprise. Another shocker, Colin was sound asleep, one leg jutting out from under the covers with the rest of him tangled in the sheet. Riley stared up at the darkened ceiling, wondering if the spirit who kept waking him was the one who killed himself or the one who was left.
Margaret hadn't been sure which of the men in the picture was which, that little detail being lost over the annals of time. There was little doubt in Riley's mind once he knew which one had killed himself. The smaller of the men had to be Samuel if the larger man was the one hanging from the attic rafters in his nightmare. He still wasn't sure if there was one soul trapped in the house or two. He had only seen Samuel, but that didn't mean that Samuel was alone.
Riley wondered about their personalities. James must have been a gentle man, driven to his death by the loss of a lover, unable to bear day-to-day life with out him. He had been kind enough to give Samuel the music box to soothe him when he was hurting, and his letters were kind. Samuel seemed like a nice man as well, missing his partner and wanting only to be together. So why would he leave? Maybe he didn't leave on his own. Maybe he never left.
The hairs on Riley's arms stood up and he rubbed the chills away. Riley got up from the bed, thirsty and headed to the kitchen. Every day, his ankle seemed to be getting better and he barely felt the quickly fading stab of pain when he put his weight on it. He meandered through the darkened house, not daring to switch on a light until he was on the first floor for fear of waking Colin. Colin needed his rest and the last thing Riley wanted to do was disturb him.
The kitchen burst to life as Riley punched the button on the light switch and Riley squinted as his eyes adjusted to the sudden transition from dark to light. The black tile was cool on Riley's bare feet and he rubbed his uncovered arms as he neared the refrigerator. The kitchen felt decidedly cooler than the rest of the house and Riley made a mental note to check for drafts before winter. If he could feel the cold of night in September, he was sure the coolness would be even more pronounced in January when the temperature plummeted to the teens.
He opened the refrigerator door and pulled out a bottle of water. He twisted off the plastic cap and brought the bottle to his lips, the cold liquid wetting his parched mouth. He downed half the bottle before he heard the door creak on its hinges as it swung open. Damn, he hadn't been quiet enough.
"I'm sorry I woke you Col—"
His sentence was cut off as he turned to face nothingness, the room empty of any living soul but his own. The black tile was no longer shiny as it was covered with a thin veil of condensation where they met the chilly cold in the kitchen. The door continued to swing, slower and slower until it came to a dead stop. Riley was as frozen as the air in the room as he watched footprints appear in the covered tiles, taking calculated steps backward toward the dark corner of the kitchen. Two narrow lines cut a perfectly parallel path behind the footprints like tire treads in snow as though something were being dragged.
Something heavy enough to need to be dragged. Something too heavy to carry. Riley watched with his jaw hanging open as the footprints disappeared out of sight beyond the closed basement door, taking the trailing channels with them. Just like that, they were gone. Riley's mouth was suddenly drier than it had been before he entered the kitchen. A cracking sound drew Riley's attention away from the basement entrance, and he looked down at the plastic bottle in his hand as though he'd never seen it before. His knuckles were strained to white as he grasped the bottle, and he released his grip allowing the plastic to reclaim its original form, popping back into shape as Riley let off the pressure.
The goosebumps on his arms persisted even though the room temperature returned to normal, the heat in the room chasing away the remaining shadows of the prints on the tile.
"Jesus," he whispered. What the hell had he just seen?
"Riley?"
Riley jumped a mile when he heard the summons, his heart pausing before stepping up the tempo and thumping again.
"Colin!" Riley blurted with a rush of relief. "You scared me."
"What's wrong?"
"You missed it. It was… I don't know what it was, but I saw footprints on the tile. And they were going backward and they disappeared into the basement with something dragging behind them. Like, like heels on a body. That's it! It was a body, and it was being dragged and they went—"
"Hold it, Riley, just calm down," Colin said as he went to his partner. "You're upset."
"Damn straight, I'm upset. Scared the shit out of me. You should have seen it, Colin. Crap, I can't believe you didn't see it again," he grumbled to himself. "It was right there, *right* there!"
"Shhh. Calm down."
"I have to go to the basement," Riley announced decidedly and Colin's grip on his arm tightened.
"No, you aren't. We're going back to bed."
"No! Colin, you don't understand. I can't go back to bed, I –"
"Riley!"
The sharp tone broke through Riley's excitement and he paused. "Colin, please," he pleaded. "I have to know. I have to see that nothing's there. You didn't see it. The kitchen door was swinging and then the prints… I have to know."
Colin searched his eyes and reluctantly relented. "If we go down there and see nothing, will you go to bed and stay there without arguing?"
"Yes," he answered eagerly, heading immediately for the door. Colin grabbed his wrist and held him in place. "What? I said yes."
"I want you to say it like you mean it. No more nonsense tonight if there's nothing in the basement."
"All right. No more nonsense if there's nothing in the basement. Ok?"
Colin nodded slowly. "All right. Let's go so we can get some sleep."
Riley's sweating palm slipped on the basement doorknob as he turned it. He pulled the door to him and looked into the darkness below. His bravado and earnestness were swiftly whisked away by apprehension, and fear gnawed at his belly as he stepped on the first riser.
"Be careful," Colin warned. "It's dark and I don't want you falling down the stairs again."
"I'm being careful." Colin's voice and presence behind him helped him to take another careful step into the abyss.
When his fingers fell onto the end of the banister, he knew he was at the bottom of the stairs. He hung onto the banister and swung his hand out into the darkness, feeling for the string of the light bulb. He pulled on the string, his eyes darting around the basement nervously, looking for signs of new footprints matching those he had just seen. The basement was empty and undisturbed.
Colin stepped down beside him. "I don't see anything."
"Damn it. I know what I saw!"
Colin quietly took Riley's hand, supporting him wordlessly.
"You must think I'm a lunatic by now. Admit it, Colin!"
"I don't think you're a lunatic."
"What now? Was I walking in my sleep? Imagining the whole thing?"
"There's no need for you to get belligerent with me."
"Forget it," Riley spat. "Let's just go to bed. It's past 2:05 so I should be able to go back to sleep. The creep show is over for tonight. Stay tuned."
Riley pushed past Colin and started up the stairs. He couldn't believe it! If that ghost were alive, he'd kill him. Once again, he looked like a fool to Colin who had once again, seen shit. He heard Colin behind him as he left the kitchen but he didn't bother to wait. He got back in bed and pulled the covers up over his shoulder and turned to his side of the bed, shutting himself off as best he could in a shared bed. He closed his eyes when he heard Colin enter the room and continued to stay where he was when Colin got back in bed.
Riley opened his eyes and stared into the night once Colin turned off the bedside lamp. He didn't so much as say 'goodnight', preferring instead to say absolutely nothing. There was nothing *to* say. Every time he opened his mouth, it seemed he was making an argument in support of his irrationality.
"All right," Colin said beside him. "Why don't we ask the preacher to come over and say a prayer or bless the house or something? He seemed like a nice enough guy."
Riley's eyes began to burn and he blinked into the dark. He rolled over to Colin, unable to believe what he thought he heard. "What? You believe me?"
"I've never *not* believed you."
"But if he says a prayer or whatever, that might make the ghosts go away."
"Isn't that the point?"
"No. I don't want them to go away. Not yet. I want to know what they want."
"I'll tell you what I want," Colin said wearily. "I want my partner back. I'm tired of sharing him with phantoms from the past."
"You don't have to share me. You don't think we should try to find a psychic?" Riley asked.
"It's not like looking up a plumber in the yellow pages. I wouldn't begin to know how to find one that's on the up and up."
"We could search the web," Riley suggested.
"Sure," Colin laughed. "You can believe everyone you meet on the internet."
"It's a start."
"You do some research and I'll call the preacher tomorrow evening. I'm willing to consider a parapsychologist or whatever if it will make you feel better."
"You don't want to call the guys in the white coats?"
"Is that what psychics are wearing these days?" Colin asked mildly.
"I love you, Colin," Riley said as he wrapped himself against Colin's chest.
Colin clutched Riley to him. "I love you, too. We'll get this straightened out."
"Thank you," Riley said sincerely.
~~~~~
The kitchen had somewhat of an unkempt look to it despite the fact that it was clean. The cabinets gaped, naked of their coverings and exposing their contents for all to see, while their doors lay in mid-production out in the shed.
Riley sat down to breakfast with Colin, and buttered a piece of toast while it was still hot. "It's in the basement, you know."
"What is?" Colin asked, taking a bite of bacon.
"I don't know what. Something. Maybe it's a body. Of the ghost I keep seeing."
"What about the one in the attic?"
"He's not still up there," Riley said confidently. "We saw his grave, remember? I have a feeling about the basement after last night. I think we should look around down there some more."
Colin pinched the bridge of his nose. "Listen, I thought we agreed you would do some research today and I'd contact the pastor next door."
"I will, Colin! Don't get aggravated. I just thought we could…" Riley waved his fork indifferently, "you know, poke around the basement. See if there's something we missed."
"Don't spend the day down there. I'll go down with you when I get home tonight and we'll look around some more, but I don't want you down there obsessing. I mean it, Riley."
Riley dropped his eyes and put his chin in his palm. "I said 'we'," he muttered, shifting his food around on the plate.
"And I know *you*," Colin commented a bit more kindly. "I've taken the trunk and the Ouija board, and now you're on to something else."
"I'm not obsessed. I'm passionate," Riley said, his eyes still focused on his plate.
Colin reached out and stilled Riley's hand causing his partner to look up at him. "Leave the basement until I get home. We'll go down together, maybe with the pastor if he can come tonight. Ok?"
Riley sighed and nodded his head. "Ok," he relented.
Colin gave Riley a short nod and a smile. "Thank you."
"So what do you have left to do at the Crandall's?" Riley asked, changing the subject.
"Not too much. I need to put the new sink and faucet in, clean up. I should finish today."
"I was noticing that my ankle feels almost back to normal."
"I saw it didn't take you as long to get going this morning. Doesn't look as stiff. Maybe you can start the next project with me."
"I think I can. Is that the bathroom we're finishing in the Darby place?" Riley asked.
"Yeah. The basement one. It shouldn't be a long project. They had the bathroom roughed in already," Colin remembered.
"Piece of cake," Riley agreed.
"I was thinking I might take a couple of days off between this project and the next one. Spend some time with you," Colin offered as he refilled his coffee. "Want some?"
"Yeah, warm me up."
"Maybe if I take those days off I could warm you up better than this cup of coffee." Colin gave Riley's smiling lips a hard kiss before he filled the coffee mug.
~~~~~~~~~
Riley sat on the sofa and flexed his ankle. It was almost as good as new. One more day of being left alone was about all he could take. He looked toward the television and groaned at the thought of being stuck with the same old daytime TV. Not very exciting. There had to be something else he could do!
The cabinet doors. They should be ready for one final dusting over with steel wool to be ready to hang. Riley could manage that much and it would be a lot more productive than lying on the sofa all day. He missed being active, missed working next to Colin. Working with his partner could be tense if they were arguing about anything but for the most part, Riley enjoyed Colin's company. They rarely argued. Until lately.
Working on the kitchen cabinet door would be good, Riley decided. It would keep him occupied until Colin got home and they could check out the basement. Riley pulled on his work boots, carefully flexing his ankle to fit past the high-top of the stiff leather.
He went through the house to exit the back door in the kitchen and stopped long enough to grab a bottle of water out of the refrigerator. A sound brought Riley's feet to an instant stop as his hand took the doorknob of the back door.
"Riley."
The single word screamed in the silent kitchen despite the intensity being not more than a disembodied whisper. The hairs on Riley's arms rose to attention as a chill as cold as ice traveled down the length of his spine. Riley stood still, his feet cemented to the floor while apprehension gripped his belly. Swallowing hard he released the tight hold he had on the doorknob and turned in dreamlike slowness until he faced the kitchen. His eyes swept the room and settled on a box in the middle of the kitchen table.
He stared at the Ouija board setting innocently on the table yet begging for attention. Without seeing around the corner, he knew from the creaking sound emanating from behind the stove that the basement door was opening, welcoming him to the dark interior of its bowels.
Riley glanced around the room again and found his voice. "What do you want this time?"
The Ouija game sat motionless on the table and no lost soul replied to Riley's question. Riley took a deep breath.
"Fine. Colin will kill me but if it will make you happy…" he said, blaming the unseen guest for satisfying his own curiosity.
Riley wiped his palms against his sweat pants then opened the box, the board and planchette lying in wait for him to engage. Taking the two pieces, he rounded the corner and didn't blink when he found the basement door wide open.
As he got to the bottom of the stairs, he yanked the cord to the light and took a seat on the steps, balancing the board across his lap.
"Ok. Here we go again." Searching even the ceiling of the basement he added, "You'd better have something to say this time."
He set the planchette in the middle of the board and rubbed his hands together before placing his fingers on either side of the little platform.
A simple question to start with. "Are you here?"
Riley stared in fascination, his eyes widening, as the planchette quivered under his touch, then slid slowly yet smoothly to the upper left-hand corner.
"Yes," Riley whispered the response aloud. "Shit."
He swallowed a nervous lump as his brain scrambled for another question.
"Who are you?"
The planchette slipped slowly toward the sweeping letters until the needle in the window of the pedestal hovered directly over the letter "S" and stopped.
Samuel. Riley had been right. But was he right about Samuel being alone?
He licked his lips nervously with barely enough spit to wet them. "Is James with you?"
He jumped in surprise as the planchette darted to the upper right of the board, sharply striking its target over and over in short, angry strokes. It stopped as suddenly as it started, finally settling on the two letter word.
"No."
The fervor in the last answer made Riley nervous to ask the next one, but he did it anyway.
"Are you mad at him?"
The planchette swirled in the upper right corner, touching the "no", then encircling it, sweeping it again then finally coming to a stop on the single word.
So Samuel was mad, but not *at* James. At the fact he wasn't with him.
"I don't know what to do," Riley said to the room. "I can't bring him here."
He looked back to the board as he felt the planchette stirring beneath his fingers. Riley read the letters aloud.
"H. E. L," he spelled as the needle sought the last letter. "P. Help? I don't know how."
The planchette started moving again, spelling the same word again only more quickly. Then again and again. The sliding platform danced angrily, zigzagging between the same four letters repeatedly.
Help, help, help, help! Riley's eyes were glued to the planchette and he held his breath. The frustrated movements stopped in an instant as the tiny platform flew off the board and out from under Riley's hands.
"Jesus," Riley breathed.
The planchette lay motionless across the room in the dust of the dirt-floored basement. The planchette's resting place left it pointing toward the wall and Riley's eyes traced the area where it was aimed. The pick and shovel leaned there, waiting to be used. How had they gotten in the basement?
"Oh, no," he said as realization washed over him.
The message was clear as crystal. Laying the board aside, Riley went to the tools and lifted up the pick.
"I don't suppose Colin put you two in here?" he asked the inanimate objects. He took a deep breath as he thought through his options until he settled on what he would do.
He raised the pick high overhead and drilled it into the packed dirt floor.
TBC
