Kindred Spirits

by D J Monroe

  At long last, Julia appeared in the doorway. She looked relaxed and happy and Creed knew she needed to get out more than she did.

  “Did you two have fun?” Julia asked.

  “We did,” Creed told her, standing.

  “I was just telling this nice young man about the new addition to the family,” his mother said, reaching out to take his hand.

  If Julia was confused, she didn’t let it show. “That’s nice, Mom.”

  Creed glanced at his watch. Had he really only been there about two hours? It seemed like much, much longer. “Sorry, but I’m going to have to be going now,” he said, squeezing his mother’s hands gently.

  “You’ll come back again soon?” she asked, standing and smoothing her hair as if she had just been entertaining an important guest.

  “I will,” Creed told her, kissing the back of one of her hands.

  Suddenly, she placed one hand against his cheek and looked directly into his eyes. “Something wonderful is going to happen to you very, very soon,” she said with more clarity than Creed had heard in weeks.

  Not knowing what else to do, Creed simply nodded. But, for a split second, Creed thought she knew exactly who he was and exactly what she was saying.

  “I’ll be right back, Mom,” Julia said. “After I show our guest out.”

  “Very well,” his mother said. “I think I’ll take a nap.”

  “Good idea.”

  Julia followed Creed out of the house and out to his car. “So she told you about the baby?”

  “Yeah,” Creed said. “Oh my God, Julia, how do you do this every day?”

  “We have a nurse who comes in on a regular basis and you always come when I need to get out a little. I’m fine,” Julia said and then cocked her head to the side. “I’m worried about you.”

  “Me?”

  “It’s none of my business but you’ve got to be short on cash. I don’t know how you’re making ends meet.” She paused. “If you need a place to stay-"

  “I’m fine, sis, but thanks for asking,” Creed said, giving her a hug. “I’ll see you next week. If you need me before then, just yell.”

  Julia backed away from his car and waved until he was out of sight.

  While Creed drove to the real estate office, he relived that terrifying moment again and again when he was unable to find his mother. Maybe he needed to talk to Julia about putting her someplace where they were sure she’d be safe. He promised himself he would bring it up when they talked again.

  Creed grabbed his camera off of the passenger seat and slung it over his shoulder. He hurried through the busy parking lot of the strip mall where the real estate office was located. He pushed open the heavy glass door and noted that Ricky Silver, was in deep conversation with another man. Seeing that Ricky was busy, Creed, turned toward the reception desk where his photography assignments were kept. Perhaps if he got an early start he’d get back to his apartment in time to catch Mr. Rogers at home.

  About halfway across the lobby, Ricky called his name.

  Creed turned to see Ricky coming toward him, the man he had been talking to following along behind.

  “Creed this is-”

  “Nate Palmer.” The name was out of his mouth before Creed could stop himself. His heart nearly stopped. He hadn’t seen Nate for years but there was no way he could forget those soft brown eyes and that ruggedly handsome face.

  “Creed Autry,” Nate said, a smile bringing out the dimple in at the corner of his mouth.

  The two men shook hands and Creed thought he was going to melt right into the floor as Nate’s fingers closed around his own, warm, firm and sure.

  “So I’m guessing you two know each other,” Ricky said with a chuckle.

  “We went to school together,” Creed explained, somehow finding his voice. Surely, Nate and Ricky could hear his heart pounding.

  Nate nodded. “I’m surprised you remembered me.”

  “I’m surprised you remembered me. I was a year behind you.”

  “Well, after you two have your high school reunion-” Ricky said, a teasing smile on his face.

  The three men laughed and, for the life of him, Creed could not take his eyes off of Nate. They were about the same height but Nate was more heavily muscled, nicely filling out the cream colored polo shirt he wore.

  Oblivious to Creed’s predicament, Ricky got down to business. “Creed, the Palmer house will be going up for sale soon. We’re pretty busy and it’s late so I thought I’d get you to run over there with Nate and get some preliminary photos.”

  “The Palmer house on the corner of Maple and Herlong?” Creed asked. Somehow he’d never linked that big, beautiful Victorian mansion to Nate Palmer or his family.

  “My dad, Everett Palmer, grew up there,” Nate explained.

  “Everett inherited it from his father and he’s going to sell it,” Ricky added and then continued. “In fact, Creed, you’ve been around here long enough to get an idea of what might have to be done to get it ready for market. Would you mind helping us out and at least get a list started.”

  Creed nodded. “It’s a beautiful place. I’ve always been intrigued by it.”

  “Thank you,” Nate said. “My grandfather lived there until his death a few months ago. My father inherited the house but is too ill to take care of it. I’ve been tasked with the job of getting it sold.”

  “Here are the keys,” Ricky said, handing over the keys to Nate. “The electric is still on. Will you be staying there?”

  Nate shook his head, a lock of dark hair failing across his forehead. Creed had the insane urge to brush it back into place. “I wasn’t planning on staying more than just one night. I’ve got a room at a motel out by the interstate.”

  Creed was so wrapped up in Nate’s presence, he could barely concentrate on the conversation. All he heard was ‘just one night’.

  “That’s fine. I think we can take care of the paperwork and scheduling any repairs without you having to be here,” Ricky said.

  “My grandfather took pretty good care of the place so it shouldn’t need too much,” Nate said. “Probably just needs painted after a good cleaning. He was a bit of a hoarder.”

  “Let’s hope you’re right,” Ricky said.

  Five: Getting to Know You

  “Want to ride over with me?” Nate offered, hoping, praying that Creed would say yes.

  “Sure,” Creed said and gave him a crooked little smile that nearly took Nate’s breath away.

  Nate unlocked the passenger door and then hurried around to the driver’s side while Creed slid into passenger seat and buckled up Suddenly, being alone with Creed made him nervous and excited all at the same time. This was not the scrawny kid he remembered from school. This man was drop dead gorgeous with soft looking, tawny colored hair that curled around his ears. That scruff of a beard made him look older but it was his smile that lit up the room.

  Creed had not even crossed his mind until his dad mentioned him earlier in the week. But here, now, seeing him in the flesh, Nate was reminded of a couple of things. The most important one was that he’d been alone much, much too long. As his thoughts whirled around in his head, Nate had to remind himself that he was only in town for one night.

  At least checking out the house would give them a little time together. Maybe Creed would let Nate take him to dinner and if things went well- He thought he’d seen a glimmer of interest in Creed’s eyes. If he was correct, this evening could get really interesting, really fast.

  “I’ll bet living in Charlotte is really exciting,” Creed said, breaking into his thoughts.

  Nate shrugged, trying to pay attention to the narrow streets of his hometown instead of getting lost in the sound of Creed’s voice. The other man’s scent filled his car, a clean citrus scent with a hint of spice. “It’s not as glamorous as you would think.”

  “You’re a reporter for the Sentinel right?” Creed asked.

  “I am.”

  “I’ll bet you get to cov
er all kinds of big, exciting stories.”

  “Something like that,” Nate answered with a smile. The last thing he wanted was for Creed to think he was some second string reporter still trying to get his big break after three years. “What about you? I always remember you taking pictures for the yearbook and the school paper.”

  “After college I came back home and worked as a photographer for the local paper here in town. Then they went from a daily to a weekly and didn’t need me any longer,” Creed said with a little shrug.

  “I’m sorry,” Nate said.

  “Things happen for a reason,” Creed said, turned to him and smiled. “Just not sure what that reason is yet.”

  “Why do you stay here?” Nate asked, noting that Creed’s long fingers stroked the camera in his lap lovingly.

  “My family is here. My sister, Julia, her husband and three kids.” Creed paused and took a breath. “And my mom.” Creed hesitated and looked away. “She’s ill.”

  Nate sensed that Creed didn’t want to talk more about that so he kept quiet.

  Then Creed cleared his throat and his smile was back, a little softer now. “I can get by with this part-time gig for the real estate office. Something will turn up soon.”

  “An optimist,” Nate said. “I like that.”

  The Palmer house sat front and center on a large corner lot of a tree lined street and looked much as Nate remembered it. It looked like someone had been keeping up with the yard work. The grass was neatly trimmed, the shrubs and flowers looked to be well cared for. In reality, the place looked as if his grandfather might step out onto the porch when he turned into the driveway.

  Nate sat there for a moment, looking at the big house through the windshield.

  “Are you okay?” Creed asked, concern on his face.

  “Yeah, it’s just hard to imagine my grandfather not being here. Hard to imagine someone else living here,” Nate answered, forcing a smile. Suddenly, this emotion-something he couldn’t even explain-choked off his words. It took him a moment but he shook it off. “It’s a big house. It needs a family, children,” he added, echoing his father’s words.

  “Well, let’s go see what we need to do to make that happen,” Creed said, opening the car door, standing and looping the camera around his neck.

  Nate grabbed the house keys off the console and led the way up the steps, across the wide front porch to the door painted a pristine white. Taking a deep breath, he slid the key into the lock. It turned easily and the door swung open. Strangely, the house smelled clean and fresh, not like it had been sitting empty for half a year.

  Almost as if the house was waiting for him.

  Again, he almost expected to see his grandfather striding toward him down the hall from the kitchen in the back to the entryway.

  “It’s as beautiful as I imagined it would be,” Creed whispered, stepping into the house behind Nate. He ran a hand along the curved railing of the stairs.

  “It is a beautiful place,” Nate said, very aware of Creed standing so close to him. During Nate’s childhood, this house had been like a museum. He’d always been allowed to explore freely. Now, everywhere he looked all he could see were cardboard boxes of all shapes and sizes. And weeks of work ahead of him. The dust-covered boxes lined the long hall on both sides, making it look narrower than it really was. They were stacked as tall as their heads and appeared to go all the way back to the kitchen. Some were neatly taped shut, some with the flaps open. As far as Nate could tell, none of them were marked in any way. “A little cluttered,” he finally said.

  “Now, that’s an understatement,” Creed said but he sounded somewhat distracted.

  At his grandfather’s funeral, Nate remembered his dad, Aunt Judy and Uncle Charles talking about how the house would need to be cleaned out and what a big job that would be. Of course, that was before the will had been read. It appeared that neither Charles nor Judy had to worry about that any longer.

  “You look a little surprised,” Creed said.

  “I am,” Nate said, shaking his head. “I don’t think it looked like this the last time I was here.”

  “Do you know what might be in these boxes?” Creed asked, sounding more curious than accusatory.

  “Possessions collected over a lifetime,” Nate answered.

  “Ghosts,” Creed said.

  Nate glanced at him and shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  “No, I mean ghosts of the past lingering in each of these boxes,” Creed explained.

  “Maybe,” Nate said, nodding absently.

  Without touching anything, he made his way further into the house. There was a bathroom to his left about midway down the hall. Pushing the door open, he peeked inside, relieved to find that it was mostly empty, just a bathroom. The eat-in kitchen was at the end of the hall and he held his breath as he entered the large area. The same thing met his gaze, boxes and bags, stacks of magazines and newspapers filled the space leaving only a winding path to the sink, stove and refrigerator.

  “Wow,” Creed said, looking around.

  “That’s not the first word that comes to mind but, yeah,” Nate said.

  “I think I’ll just take pictures of the outside today,” Creed told him. “Then we’ll make a list of what we can do next.”

  Nate nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

  Creed turned and left and Nate heard the front door open and close. He was almost glad to be alone for just a moment, if nothing else, to try and get his thoughts together. Creed’s presence was distracting-in a good way-but distracting, nonetheless.

  Leaving the kitchen behind, he made his way back up the hall. The first door on his right, opposite the bathroom was what he remembered that his grandfather used as a library. He’d spent many rainy summer afternoons in this room with his nose buried in a book. There weren’t as many boxes as in the hall and kitchen but there were stacks and stacks of books on the floor, on tables, in the chairs.

  He sneezed three times and moved on.

  Just inside the front door to the right was a parlor, across from that was the room his grandfather had used as an office. Each of these rooms were crammed full of boxes, just like the kitchen had been. He supposed there was furniture underneath all of that which he would definitely sell with the house.

  Back in the entry way, he started up what had at one time been a grand staircase. Now, more than half of the width of each step was covered with yellowed newspapers stacked over two feet high. Without pausing, he continued upward. There were four bedrooms on this floor, each one filled with heavy, dark furniture. The only addition was boxes and boxes of stuff. Nate’s anxiety grew with each passing moment.

  He returned to the landing and continued up to the top floor of the house.

  The third floor was one large room with slanted ceilings. Currently, it was filled with even more boxes and heavy looking trunks. Nate smiled. He’d always loved it up here as a boy, pretending he was in a fort or a secret hideout.

  And then a memory returned so vividly it took his breath away. He was in his teens, probably the first time he realized he was gay. Some of the guys from school had given him some old porn magazines and he’d smuggled them into the house and up to this space. When he had a chance to look at them, he saw that they were filled with naked women in sexual poses just like the guys had promised.

  But Nate barely noticed them.

  It was the men, that had turned him on, six pack abs, throbbing erections and muscular bodies. He remembered seeing a picture of a woman performing oral sex on a man. His mouth had watered imagining what it would feel like to hold another man’s cock in his mouth, feel it vibrating against his tongue, listening to that throaty groan of release.

  That day, he had masturbated furiously, over and over again up here in this, his secret place. And that’s where he had spent the rest of that summer, exploring his own body, his needs and desires. Even though he was tempted, he never invited a classmate or a friend to share this space with him even though h
e had an idea some of them were gay.

  Once Nate was convinced that he was gay, he had one goal in mind: go to college, get a degree in journalism and disappear into a big city where he’d be free to live his life as he saw fit. Where he could experience all of the erotic things he had imagined, away from his father’s prying eyes.

  Well, he’d achieved that, he thought as he stood there looking around the cluttered room. He had disappeared but what sexual activities he’d had so far had left him feeling just as empty and alone as when he’d been a teenager.

  “Nate?”

  The sound of Creed calling his name, brought him back to the present with a jolt. The memories, the anxiety, had been so real, so visceral.

  “Up here,” Nate said. Then he realized that Creed probably couldn’t hear him, stepped to the door and called out louder. “I’m up here.”

  Desire shot through him again as he listened to Creed’s footsteps on the stairs. Adding Creed’s presence to his current state of mind was like adding fuel to the flame. The sight of Creed standing in the narrow, slightly crooked doorway was almost more than he could bear.

  “Are you okay?” Creed asked?

  “I’m fine. Just seeing the house like this brings back some childhood memories,” Nate said, surprised that tears stung the back of his eyes.

  “I’ll bet. This room in particular,” Creed said, letting his gaze travel around the room. “It would have been a great hiding place. A fort. A pirate ship.”

  “All of those things,” Nate said, chuckling in spite of his emotional state.

  “I got some great shots of the outside of the house and the garage. Everything looks like it’s in really good shape,” Creed explained.

  “Well that’s good news anyway,” Nate said.

  And then Creed sighed as he hesitated. “I don’t think we’re going to be able to figure out how much has to be done inside until we get some of this stuff out of here.”