Nearly Departed
Page 27
Chapter Eleven
Dennis woke with a start and a stiff back. Sounds of quiet clattering were coming from somewhere in the apartment, and although it took him a moment to remember where he was, he soon relaxed when a familiar smell reached his nostrils. Dennis shook himself awake and walked towards the kitchen, where he found Bobo preparing a pot of coffee.
“Did you sleep at all last night?” the bigger man asked.
Dennis rubbed his neck groggily. “Yeah, why?”
Bobo shrugged impassively. “I just wasn’t sure if you found the time for it after all those trips to the window.”
Fair enough, Dennis supposed. By the time he had finally dozed off, he must have scanned the street more than a dozen times, hoping to convince himself that Spinner wasn’t laying in wait somewhere close by.
“Sorry if I kept you up,” murmured Dennis. He eyed the coffee. “Is some of that for me, or are you brewing another love potion?” Bobo responded by pulling two white mugs from an overheard cupboard and placing them next to the gurgling machine.
“I put a towel out for you if you want to have a wash,” Bobo said. “It’ll be a few minutes yet before breakfast is ready.”
“Aren’t you hospitable?” Dennis joked. He grew more somber. “Thanks, by the way.”
“For what? It’s just muffins.”
“Not just that,” replied Dennis. “For everything. I would have spent the night in a hotel room otherwise.”
“Don’t mention it, then,” Bobo said, turning back to face the counter. Dennis wasn’t sure if the polite dismissal was meant for his benefit or not, and the lack of any follow-up questions bothered him slightly.
“I had a fight with my wife.”
Bobo turned around again, his expression guarded. “That’s bad, is it?”
“It’s not good,” Dennis sighed. “She wasn’t too happy when I told her about the mess that I’m in.”
“The mess we’re in,” corrected Bobo. “That Spinner bloke is after me, too.”
“It does seem that way,” Dennis murmured. He shook his head vigorously. “Whatever. Until he shows up again, let’s just forget about him. I’m going to go shower.”
“Don’t take too long.”
“You can start eating without me,” said Dennis. “I don’t mind.”
“Still best be quick about it; you might mind when the hot water runs out.” Bobo cocked his head to the side. “Although maybe it’s better for you to take a cold shower, with that date today.” A number of halfway-witty retorts came to Dennis’ mind, but none of them seemed appropriate. Instead of letting loose with a lame response, he turned and trudged towards the bathroom, still massaging his neck with one hand.
The tiled room, like the rest of Bobo’s dwelling, was incredibly simple in its furnishings. Everything from the towels to the toothbrush holder was white, the only exception being a green soap dispenser in the shape of a particularly stoned-looking frog. Even the shampoo bottle kept the uniform color, although the smell of the substance inside was much more floral than Dennis would have expected. He bathed quickly and dressed in the clothes he had brought along for the date with Evy, although he left the tie and the blazer off for the time being. By the time he exited the bathroom, Bobo had set the table with the two steaming mugs of coffee and a small assortment of muffins.
“Is that what you’re wearing, then?” Bobo asked, looking Dennis over.
“Most of it,” answered Dennis, looking down at himself. “There’s a tie and a jacket, but I’ll put those on later.”
“I half expected you to be out in your September suit.”
Dennis spread his arms. “Well, this will have to be good enough.” He sat down and reached for a dark muffin. “It’s either that or show up naked.”
Bobo laughed out loud, nearly spilling his coffee. “Blimey, wouldn’t that be something? I bet Evy would be on you before you could sit down!”
“Yeah,” Dennis chuckled. “I’ve never heard of a ghost being quite so flirtatious.”
“If that’s what you want to call it.” A long slurp punctuated Bobo’s words as he emptied half of his mug. “Heard of many ghosts, have you? Oh wait, sorry, I forgot... you are the expert.”
“Very funny. I meant in stories and such.” Dennis finished his muffin and reached for another. “Actually, a lot of the people I’ve talked with claim that their ghosts are raging philanderers or something.”
“The afterlife must be one brilliant party.”
“I’ll say.”
Bobo munched his way through a muffin of his own. “How’d you get going with this, anyway?”
Dennis snorted. “Sam helped me put an ad in the paper,” he said. He looked up at Bobo, who was clearly amused. “What? Not the exciting start that you expected?”
“I’m just surprised anyone reads the paper anymore.”
“It’s definitely not as popular as it used to be,” Dennis agreed, “but I guess the people who see ghosts are the same ones who keep their subscriptions going. Anyway, I was just following the doctor’s orders, since it was his idea.”
“What’s in it for you? I mean, most people don’t offer thousand-dollar checks, do they?”
Dennis shrugged. “Inspiration, I guess.”
“Mid-life crisis?”
“No,” replied Dennis with a smirk. “Inspiration for my next book. It was going to be about a paranormal investigator.”
“Was?” Bobo repeated. Dennis gave another shrug.
“I didn’t really find what I was looking for. Everything was just a different version of the same story.”
“What did you expect?” Bobo waved his fingers. “A real ghost?”
“Hey, I found that, didn’t I?” Dennis took a thoughtful sip from his mug. “I don’t know. I’ve never really believed in anything supernatural, but I guess I was hopeful that I’d find something interesting.
“It don’t get much better than possessed chairs though, eh?”
Dennis checked his watch. “Speaking of which, we should probably get going soon. Why did you let me sleep so late?”
“I thought you might need the rest after staring at the street all night,” Bobo said. “I’ll go and change.” He stood and walked through to the bedroom, leaving Dennis to finish devouring his second and then third muffin. When Bobo returned, Dennis stopped chewing and stared. His friend’s dark skin was offset by an impossibly white collared shirt, and the sleek black bowtie beneath his chin was an obvious match to the tailored pants he was wearing.
“Uh, Bobo,” Dennis said, swallowing, “you do realize that I’m the one going on a date, right?”
“Sure,” replied Bobo. “You’ll need a waiter, though, yeah?”
“Oh, god... You’re serious, aren’t you?”
Bobo flashed his familiar grin. “Absolutely. Remembering how she was treating me before, I thought I’d play the part.”
“If you insist,” said Dennis. “Although you’ll have to do a better job than you did last time.”
“Just so long as you remember to tip.”