Enter If You Dare

by Alyson Larrabee

  Nathaniel frowns. “Even I’ve never heard of such a thing and I’ve been doing paranormal investigations for several years now.”

  Oliver explains. “Nathaniel is an experienced medium. He can communicate with the dead. I invited him to dinner tonight to consult with him about Wyatt’s part in all of this and it looks like he arrived at just the right time.”

  Nathaniel adds, “Your ghost really concerns us, Annabelle. He waited a long time for the right person to come along. For years he fed off the fear of every amateur ghost hunter who visited the abandoned hospital. Panic and chaos can nourish a ghost. The spirit soaks it all in and it makes him stronger, more able to reveal himself to us. As we grow weaker, more frightened and more confused, he grows more powerful. The Lonesome Boy has orchestrated the most formidable haunting that I’ve ever heard of.”

  “Powerful. Formidable. You’re really scaring me.” I can’t think of anything I did to deserve this. “Lots of people try ghost hunting. Lots of people have visited the asylum, looking for the Lonesome Boy. He never appeared to any of them. He isn’t stalking any of them. Why me?”

  “The spirit of the Lonesome Boy waited in room 209 at Wild Wood, hoping someone like you would come along.”

  “Someone like me?”

  “Someone very special. Someone with a gift.”

  “I don’t have a gift. I’m not a medium. I’m not like you and Wyatt, Nathaniel.”

  “You saw him, Annabelle. And no one else did.”

  I don’t like what I’m hearing, but I have to listen. I need to know what happened tonight. I need an explanation.

  Nathaniel continues. “By the time you finally showed up, the ghost had gathered enough power to stalk you, to stay with you for months. He left the asylum. After he followed you home, he hid in the shadows, in your dreams mostly. He was hoping someone would come along to empower him further.”

  “And that someone was Wyatt.”

  “Yes. The ghost remained reasonably quiet until Wyatt arrived in your life.”

  Wyatt opens his sleepy eyes and speaks up. “I’m so sorry, Annabelle.”

  Staring at me with a puppy-dog face which would rival Jeff’s in an adorable competition, he looks pathetic and exhausted. Maybe I should lighten up on him.

  “Okay, I forgive you, but I need to know the whole truth. You have to tell me everything, no more secrets or half-truths, please.”

  Wyatt smiles weakly. “I promise.”

  Nathaniel goes on. “I can’t help you unless you tell me every detail. I’m not sure if you and Wyatt are in danger, but you could be. Everything about this situation’s unusual.”

  I’m not going to tell him anything until I find out what he knows. “Nathaniel, you need to tell me what happened to Wyatt tonight. I know you’re hiding something important from me.”

  “Before I can figure it out, I need more details. But there’s one thing I do know for sure. This thing doesn’t belong here with the living. And, unlike other spirits, it seems to know no boundaries. We need to send it back where it came from.”

  A loud snore from over by the other side of the fireplace interrupts Nathaniel. We all look over at Wyatt, who’s lying with his long legs splayed out in front of him and his head sunk into the back of the overstuffed chair. His mouth’s opened wide and he’s drooling a little.

  Nathaniel’s forehead furrows with concern. “Oliver, he’s sound asleep.” He turns to me. “Annabelle, was he unusually hungry after you called Oliver?”

  “He’s always hungry. But he devoured about a dozen chocolate chip cookies and two huge glasses of milk right before Oliver arrived. That’s a lot, even for Wyatt.”

  “This isn’t good.” Nathaniel reaches down as if to pat his dog, but smoothes my hair instead. “Please tell me everything that happened. Start at the beginning.”

  I look at Wyatt’s slack form; he’s tall and strong, but also vulnerable. My doubts collapse. I need to trust Nathaniel if I want him to help me, so I begin to reveal the whole story of my trip to Wild Wood. I start with the pale, ghostly form that only I saw. Then I tell them about the crying Meg and I heard in the car afterwards. Finally I describe the nightmares.

  With my voice trembling I explain about the night Wyatt and I watched my movie together. The same night Wyatt announced that something had followed me back from the asylum.

  “And as soon as Wyatt finished telling me, the light bulb exploded and the lamp tipped over. The TV came on loud and the screen was all static. When we went upstairs, my mother made us some tea and we were sitting at the table, talking. Suddenly the candle flames went out. The ghost extinguished them.”

  Nathaniel finally speaks up. “He’s more powerful than any spirit I’ve ever encountered.”

  “I’m scared. Today, in the basement, Wyatt’s heart stopped beating for a few seconds.” I look up at Nathaniel, hoping that he can reassure me.

  “That’s not unusual for a medium who’s channeling the dead. His heart started right up again, didn’t it?”

  “Yes, but afterwards he was different. Disoriented and cold; unbelievably cold.”

  “Annabelle, today the Lonesome Boy’s spirit was able to enter Wyatt’s body and speak, using Wyatt’s voice.”

  “That’s what I thought might have happened. But I was afraid to say it.”

  “It’s called channeling. They’ve both been exhausted by this experience. I’ve done it a lot of times, at séances. Every time I’ve channeled for someone, I did it voluntarily, though. I consciously opened the door to my soul and let someone else in. But today there was no séance. Wyatt acted recklessly. He shouldn’t have done what he did. I think he realizes that now. I think he even scared himself.”

  “Well, he sure as hell scared me.”

  “This is uncharted territory. We’re learning as we go.”

  Oliver volunteers, “We need more information about what happened at that hospital, specifically, what happened in room 209. Who is the Lonesome Boy, or rather, who was he?”

  “How can we find out?” I ask.

  Oliver answers me. “You and Wyatt have seen what he looked like. If there are some old files that were left behind at the hospital, we might be able to find a photograph of him.”

  “That would be a good start,” Nathaniel says.

  “We need information about the patients at the hospital. Files and old newspapers, that’s my department. I’m the historian. I’ll lead the research team,” Oliver announces.

  “Meg and I saw some files when we were there. The offices are all creepy and dirty, but there are rusty metal file cabinets with files still in them. I’m afraid to go back, though.”

  “You have to, Annabelle, but we’ll be with you every step of the way. I don’t suppose it’s wheelchair accessible.” Nathaniel frowns.

  “We climbed a fence to sneak in.” I don’t know what Nathaniel can do to help if we revisit the hospital. There’s no way for him to get inside. “There’s no electricity, no working elevators or anything like that. We saw a few ramps, but nothing to help you travel from one floor to another. And no way for you to get over the fence.”

  “Let’s sit down and eat while we talk about it. I have all this food and everyone must be hungry. If we can wake Wyatt up, I’m sure he’ll want something.” Oliver’s suggestion is the best I’ve heard all evening.

  I go over, nudge Wyatt’s shoulder with my hand, bend down and speak softly into his ear. He stirs and smiles lazily. Then he turns his head so that his lips almost touch mine. I move my face away quickly and shake his shoulder. The dog starts barking.

  “What?” Wyatt sits up straight in his chair and looks around. “Nathaniel? Hey, good to see you.”

  “Hi, Wyatt. How are you feeling?”

  He still looks disoriented. “I feel okay, thanks. Just tired. And hungry. That smells great, Oliver. What is it? I’m starved.”

  Chapter 11

  Nathaniel’s Story

  I’m starving, but it’s hard to eat because Wyat
t keeps dozing off and leaning against my right arm. When he slides to the left, Oliver elbows him awake and I do the same when he heads back in my direction. If he falls forward, his face will end up in his dinner, so we have to stay vigilant at all times.

  “The poor kid needs a couple of thick, juicy cheeseburgers. All this tofu stuff isn’t good for a growing boy. If you fed him right, Oliver, maybe he wouldn’t be so tired and weak.” Nathaniel grins at us from across the table.

  Oliver smiles and gives it right back. “That tofu disappeared pretty fast from your plate, Nathaniel. Would you like some more or are you feeling too tired and weak to lift your fork, because you’re eating vegetarian food tonight?”

  He passes the steaming platter, heaped with tofu, vegetables and rice, over to Nathaniel who says thank you and spoons a ton more of the delicious food onto his plate.

  We’re all shoveling in Oliver’s tofu concoction. I want to compliment him, because he’s a really good cook, but I don’t want to seem like a kiss-up, so I just smile and put some more food onto my plate.

  Finally Wyatt stumbles off to bed and Oliver and I clear the table.

  After I load the last dirty dish and close the door on the dishwasher, Nathaniel calls out to me from the living room.

  “Annabelle, come in here.”

  Oliver nods at me. “I just have one more pan to scrub. Then I need to run upstairs and check on Wyatt. Go ahead. Nathaniel has something to tell you.”

  Before I step into the living room, I stand still in the doorway for a second, to admire the view. Nathaniel looks like an artist posed him. The light from the fire plays with his shimmering curls and scampers over the muscles of his bare arms. Jeff’s massive head is resting on his paws and he stares up at me without shifting his relaxed position at all.

  “Come here, Annabelle. You’ve had a rough day. Sit by the fire with Jeff and me.”

  “You’re right. What happened today was pretty disturbing.”

  I lower myself onto the rug, next to Jeff and settle in. Nestled at the foot of Nathaniel’s wheelchair, leaning against the dog’s furry side, I feel safe, full of good food, and cozy. Jeff’s a living, breathing security blanket.

  “Your day’s about to get even more upsetting. But soon your confusion and fear will give way to understanding and acceptance.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re upset. Oliver obviously annoyed you by not warning you about Wyatt’s paranormal talent. It was kind of funny.”

  “Funny?”

  “Is there an echo in here? Yeah, I thought you were funny. No one ever stands up to Oliver like that. You challenged him. Demanded to know what was going on. You surprised him. And it’s hard to surprise Oliver. He thought you’d back down without an argument and accept what little information he was willing to share.”

  I like Oliver a lot, and Nathaniel, and even Wyatt. But I’m tired of being patronized like I’m some little kid who has to go to bed earlier than the grownups.

  “It wasn’t fair. Someone should have warned me. I was alone with Wyatt when he was possessed by that ghost.”

  “It was your ghost to begin with.”

  “But Wyatt took everything so much further.”

  “You two are both in way over your heads. You’re going to need my help.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Channeling spirits. I let them enter my body and speak, using my voice. I’m a medium, an experienced one. Wyatt’s an amateur. Tonight was his first time.”

  “And his arms were around me! He was holding me when the ghost took over!”

  “And here you are, back from your encounter with the undead. Safe and healthy. Yelling at me.”

  “You deserve it!”

  “Annabelle, you’re unbelievably special and Wyatt senses that, even though he doesn’t know all the facts yet.”

  “All what facts?”

  “You’re even more unusual than you realize and you’ll find out tonight about your own talent. But that’s your story. First you have to hear mine, because we’re all connected in the end.”

  “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

  What does Nathaniel know about me that even I don’t know?

  “Sometimes the dead can’t let go of the living until we make it possible and this can be very hard to do.”

  “I’m still confused.”

  “Be patient and listen to my story.”

  “Okay. I’ll try.”

  “Let’s start with Jeff, because he’s always been there for me. He had my back right from the beginning.”

  I stroke the warm fur on Jeff’s side and he lifts his head for a second, to lick my hand. Nathaniel begins.

  “When I was a college student. Before the accident…” He pauses and looks down at his immobile legs. “…I devoted my strong body to every good cause. I worked hard, got good grades and donated lots of time to organizations like Amnesty International, the local animal shelter and Students Against Drunk Driving, among other charities. I wanted to save people, save animals, save the whales, the rain forest, everything. If something needed saving, I belonged to an organization that was trying to save it. I didn’t really have a girlfriend, but I guess you could say I had a different girlfriend every weekend.”

  I roll my eyes and snort. Nathaniel pauses to smile at me, flashing his white teeth.

  “Charming laugh, Annabelle. Very ladylike.” Then he resumes his story. “One day my best friend, Ted, called me, to ask a favor. Someone had stolen a puppy and wanted to bring it to the animal shelter, where I volunteered. Ted asked me to adjust the paper work so it all looked legal. I refused, of course, but he begged me to meet the dog, just once, before I made up my mind. I said no again and he played his ace. Two beautiful sisters had stolen the dog and they had a good reason for stealing it. My desire to obey the law weakened, for selfish reasons, and I agreed to meet the girls and the puppy.”

  “And the puppy was Jeff?”

  “Right. The puppy was Jeff, but I haven’t gotten that far yet. Be patient.”

  Jeff’s sleeping peacefully, supporting my weight with no complaints. Taking no interest in his own part of the story, he’s snoring a little and twitching his tail in his sleep.

  Nathaniel continues. “Ted brought the two girls and the puppy over to my house one fall afternoon. I was home alone that day. Mom was out grocery shopping; my father’s been gone for about twenty-five years.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss.” I feel like I need to say something, because Nathaniel looks so sad right now.

  “My father didn’t die. He disappeared when I was a baby. We tried to track him down a couple of times, but it’s expensive. We ran out of money before we could find him. He probably changed his name, took on a new identity or something. I have no idea. After a while we stopped caring and just accepted the situation. Anyway, it’s ancient history. I never knew him and I got used to not having a father around. Mom and I have managed very well on our own.”

  I don’t know what to say so I just nod and hope he’ll go on with his story. And he does.

  “Now, back to the part about meeting Jeff for the first time and meeting Holly. My friend arrived on that fateful day with the most irresistible puppy I’d ever met and two of the most beautiful girls I’d ever seen. They were sisters. The older one’s name was Holly. She was my age: twenty one. I immediately agreed to help them, even if what they asked me to do was illegal. The first time Holly smiled at me, I decided I’d rob a bank for her if that’s what she wanted.”

  I giggle, picturing Nathaniel all bug-eyed over a girl. Jeff stirs in his sleep for a second.

  “I fell hard. Did a face plant and never got up. She had a sarcastic smile, like she was thinking, ‘Yup, I really look this good, but do you care about what’s inside? Am I smart? Am I funny? Do you even want to know?’ I just kept staring at her until that smirk widened into something genuine and rare, with dimples, too.”

  “I get the point. She was gorgeous. Now
what about the dog?”

  “Okay, okay. Sorry for digressing. Holly’s family had just moved to Eastfield. We were practically neighbors. She had recently dropped out of college but was thinking of taking a few courses at River Wind. My dream-girl lived in my town and would be going to my school. I couldn’t believe my good luck.”

  I give him an “Ahem.”

  “Okay, Annabelle. Back to the dog.”

  “It’s just that the romantic part is a little boring.”

  “Aren’t you kind of young to be so cynical about romance?”

  “I’m not cynical. I just think it’s boring.”

  “Right.” Nathaniel shoots me a close-lipped grin and then continues. “Before she moved to Eastfield, Holly lived next to a very sketchy guy whose dog died under not-so-mysterious circumstances. This neighbor kept his dog outside, all the time, tied on a short rope, with only a ramshackle old dog house for shelter. Holly had knocked on the guy’s door a couple of times and begged him to stop neglecting the pathetic animal, but he only insulted her and he threatened her, too.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He didn’t just say it. He did it. One spring day, Holly’s mother came home from work to find that someone had uprooted the flowers from her garden. They suspected their creepy neighbor, but they couldn’t prove it. So they knew they’d have to handle the situation themselves.”

  “What did they do?”

  “They called the animal control officer, but he told them there was nothing he could do. The dog hadn’t been obviously beaten and it was fed and given water.”

  “That’s horrible!”

  “It gets worse. One cold winter day, Holly had just stepped out of her house early in the morning. She looked over at the neighbor’s yard, to check on the dog, and his rope was lying slack on the frozen dirt. No dog attached. There was a mound of fresh dirt in the neighbor’s backyard where he’d buried the poor animal. He must’ve had to chop through the frozen earth with a pick axe. The bastard worked harder to bury his dog than he did to take care of it. Holly cried herself to sleep that night.”