The Haunting Season

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The Haunting Season Page 4

by Michelle Muto


  “Gage Jackson. Blairsville, Georgia,” he offered.

  Simple, to the point, Jess noticed. Right along with those hazel eyes and that totally kissable mouth…

  Quit staring at him!

  “Man,” Bryan said in a low whisper from across the table. It made Jess frown. Clearly, the boys had some inside joke going on between them at her and Allison’s expense. She’d been caught staring a second too long and Bryan had picked up on it.

  Bryan’s comment caught the attention of Dr. Brandt, who motioned for Bryan to go next.

  He cleared his throat and straightened. “Bryan Akerman from Easley, South Carolina. Nice to meet everyone.”

  Dr. Brandt slid his chair back a little and all eyes turned toward him. Jess leaned forward, eager to learn exactly what they’d be doing here and how each of them had been selected.

  Dr. Brandt situated his napkin in his lap. “As you know, I’m Dr. Gregory Brandt. I work as a parapsychologist at EPAC, a government-funded organization sponsoring this experiment. Each of you has been carefully chosen. And before any of you asks, yes, I honestly do believe in the paranormal. At least to an extent. Ghosts, mostly. Also, evil spirits and demons, but not werewolves or vampires—the sparkly kind or otherwise.”

  Jess and Bryan laughed. Gage smirked. Allison didn’t seem to enjoy Dr. Brandt’s attempt at humor.

  “Which agency? Why is the government interested in us?” Gage asked.

  “Why not?” Dr. Brandt replied. “The government funds a lot of studies, ranging from the effects of global warming to various health issues. Why not paranormal activities?”

  “What branch of the government?” Gage asked again.

  “Various ones, Gage. That’s not important right now. EPAC, if anyone is wondering, stands for Experimental Paranormal Activity Coalition.”

  Bryan laughed. “Paranormal activity. Like the movie?”

  “No. This is nothing like Hollywood,” Dr. Brandt responded. “Speaking of funding, each of you agreed to the same compensation, so there’s no need to discuss the amount. You’ll be here for one month. We’ll go over the history of Siler House and how it affects our experiment. As for the house itself, you’re free to wander except for the few rooms that are locked, and after ten p.m. you should stay in your rooms unless we’re all together conducting our experiments. Also, you’ll be expected to join the rest of us for meals at the times specified in your paperwork. Please be on time. We wouldn’t want Mrs. Hirsch to have to go looking for you.”

  This brought on a short bout of laughter between the boys.

  “No doubt you’ve already met her,” Dr. Brandt said. “The estate once belonged to her family, and she has recently taken on the position of overseeing Siler House. We will meet in the Great Room at eight-thirty every night. During your stay, I will be observing each of you. Also, as explained in your paperwork, there will be no television, no internet, and phone calls are limited. You’ll be allowed to make calls twice a week. You can return calls as needed, but no more than once a day. Tonight’s agenda is to get to know one another better—including what brings each of you here. Then, we’ll move on to the specifics.”

  “Dinner is served,” Mrs. Hirsch said as she entered the room. “The cook has set up a buffet in the kitchen.” She narrowed her eyes as she looked at everyone except Dr. Brandt. “You are expected to clean up after yourselves, as the cook has already left for the day. The entire staff has left. Except for me. I stay on full time. But I’m not your mother, so I don’t clean up after you.”

  Her eyes shifted to each of them again, then she walked steadily out of the dining room.

  “She’s a charmer,” Gage said as they made their way to the kitchen. “In a dour sort of way.”

  “More like Lizzy Borden,” Bryan scoffed. “Maybe at night she carries an axe instead of a key ring.”

  Jess noticed that Dr. Brandt watched and listened, but did not join in their conversation. Part of the whole observation thing, she supposed.

  “There are worse things here,” Allison told them once they’d all loaded their plates, filled their glasses and sat down to eat. The cook had prepared homemade Southern food at its best: fried chicken, buttery corn on the cob, sautéed green beans with onions, and biscuits—no pizza here.

  “Is that so?” Gage asked. “So, what spooks you, Allison? Spiders? Mice? It can’t be anything supernatural, right?”

  A moment of silence went by as each of them waited for the other to speak, to say what they might be afraid of. Jess cut her eyes to Allison, who had apparently decided not to say another word.

  Gage seemed to take the hint, so maybe he wasn’t trying to be a jerk, after all. “Maybe we all need a history lesson or something, right, Doc? To put us in the mood.”

  “Perhaps after dinner,” Dr. Brandt said, spreading preserves onto his biscuit. “We’ll learn a little about Siler House every day. But before we begin, I’d like for us to talk about what brings us here, and what we think of Siler House thus far.”

  “It’s haunted, right?” Jess asked.

  “Tell us about the ghosts and how they got to be ghosts,” Bryan chimed in.

  “We could have a séance,” Gage suggested. He winked at Jess. “Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do?”

  Oh yeah, Jess thought. Gage was definitely the kind of guy who knew he was eye candy. She returned her focus to Dr. Brandt, who was avidly watching their interactions. It was beginning to unnerve Jess.

  “Jess, why don’t you start by telling us of your experience with ghosts? Enlighten Gage a little,” Dr. Brandt finally said.

  All eyes were on her, and her heart raced. She rested her fork against her plate, wondering where she should begin and why Dr. Brandt had selected her to go first.

  It’s now or never, Jess. Tell them and be done with it. They won’t think you’re crazy. They were all here for the same reason—because they had some sort of paranormal experience or ability.

  “I see ghosts. Well, I used to, anyway. The first ghost was my grandmother.” She fumbled with her fork. “A little after Grams, I started seeing more ghosts. In restaurants, hotels during family vacation, coffee shops. Almost everywhere. About two years ago, Grams stopped coming around. She said it wasn’t a good idea anymore and that if she went away, maybe the others would stop showing up, too. But they didn’t stop. Not until later. Like I said, they were everywhere. Then, my dad died at the beginning of the year. I thought he’d show up, too, but he didn’t.”

  And that’s when you had the breakdown. Tell them, Jess. Tell them you had the breakdown not because you saw ghosts, but because you stopped seeing ghosts.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Jess felt her face heat. She’d wanted to hear everyone else’s story. But she hadn’t really thought about what it meant to share her own experiences and innermost thoughts. She hadn’t realized it would make her feel so vulnerable.

  It’s best to leave off the part about Gram’s warning, Jess. And it’s best not to tell everyone that after years of seeing ghosts, you feel cheated because they all just stopped showing themselves, and now, you’re obsessed with them. No one else is particularly happy about what they’ve experienced. Just you. For you, this study is one of the best things that’s happened in years.

  Everyone was patiently waiting on her.

  What the hell. Just tell them. Tell them everything. Almost.

  She stared down at her plate. “A few months after my dad died, the ghosts just stopped showing up.”

  “So, you can’t see ghosts anymore?” Gage asked. “Then why are you here?”

  Jess sucked in a deep breath. “Because I’m obsessed with them, okay?”

  Because my psychiatrist knew a guy who knew a guy, and they paid me a hefty amount, that’s why. I’m here because of my shrink. And the money. Let’s not forget about that. What a way to pay for tuition.

  “And I miss my dad,” she added, trying to put the rambling thoughts in her head into some sort of perspective—some
context she was willing to share. “He died of cancer. So, if this place is a conduit, I might get a chance to see him. Talk to him. And I hope the others will come back, too. That’s why I’m here. A grief counselor helped me talk my mom and stepdad into it.”

  It surprised her how easily the white lie slipped from her lips. She waited for Dr. Brandt to correct her, to tell them all that a psychiatrist who dealt with people claiming to see or talk to the dead had suggested she come here, but he didn’t.

  More surprisingly, Gage didn’t say another word. In fact, he nodded as though her explanation made sense.

  “I’ll go next,” Bryan offered, setting down his drink. “My father disappeared. Just vanished.”

  “Your dad left you?” Allison asked softly. Jess suspected Allison was thinking of her own father—well, both of her parents, actually. Sadly, they’d both pretty much abandoned her.

  “I wish,” Bryan scoffed. “No, he…um, disappeared. He and mom were fighting again. They always fought when he was drunk. He hit her like he sometimes did. I knew something was up when he came home that night. He looked worse than normal. Angrier, more drunk, and he had this look in his eyes I can’t explain. Murderous, I suppose. Insane.” Bryan’s jaw tightened as he stared at the table.

  He paused and swiped at his mouth as though brushing away the words he probably wanted to say. “A car door slammed in the driveway, which meant my sister was home from her date. She was an hour late and I knew she was going to be next. She’s sixteen—almost two years younger than me. Dad had set her curfew at nine. Not that it mattered. Even when she came home on time, Dad would give her a hard time about stuff. It was worse if she had a date. He’d ask her all sorts of questions. Except they were more accusations than questions.

  “Anyway, Dad stormed down the hall, ready to give her hell. I ran after him, hating him even more than usual and wishing he’d just go—that he’d leave us and never come back. I wished it with all my might.”

  Bryan tensed and the tendons in his neck began to stand out. “I’d had it, you know? I’d just reached my limit with him. I swore then that he’d never lay a hand on any of us again. Never! So, I grabbed a baseball bat I’d hidden in my room, and I ran downstairs.

  He paused, cracking the knuckles of his left hand. He shifted his eyes down to the table again, not looking at anyone.

  “He was screaming at my sister before she’d even walked in the door, threatening to teach her a lesson about coming home when she was told.” Bryan gave a cynical laugh. “Like he didn’t stay out until all hours, or not come home for days without an explanation. In fact, he’d get pissed if any of us asked where he’d been. Anyway, I had the bat in my hand when I got downstairs. But he wasn’t in the living room like I’d expected. I thought maybe he’d gone out the front door after my sister. But when I got outside, he wasn’t there either, and my sister was asking if I’d done something to him. I told her I hadn’t.”

  Bryan raked a hand through his hair. “I was so sure he was hiding, waiting for us, but we searched the whole house—even the garage. His wallet and keys were still upstairs on the dresser. It was winter and he hadn’t taken a coat. I swear, it was like I wished it and he was...gone.”

  “You’re saying you made him disappear?” Gage asked. “As in poof, he’s gone?”

  “Yeah. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  Gage rubbed his chin. “Is there any chance he just bailed, like you wished for? Maybe he saw you with the bat and left through another door?”

  “If I hadn’t made other things disappear before and after that, and if he hadn’t left his wallet and keys behind, then yeah, I’d say you might be right,” Bryan replied. “I can’t control it, so don’t ask how it works. For whatever reason, it just happens, and not all the time. Before that night, I’d made a bottle of his whiskey disappear. Got knocked around good for that one. He swore I’d hidden the bottle and he wanted it back. But mostly, it’s been small stuff. Pens, books, shoes. I can’t do it all the time, either. Sometimes nothing happens, no matter how hard I concentrate. And I’d never made a person disappear before, or since. I guess I’m here because the cops put what I said about him vanishing into thin air in their report and all. Somehow, this agency Dr. Brandt mentioned got hold of the report or something. No idea. But, here I am.”

  Car keys, Jess thought, remembering the scene in the hallway when they’d first arrived.

  All eyes turned to Gage.

  Gage set his knife and fork down, and straightened. It looked like an attempt to appear more confident than actual arrogance. “My folks think I’m a necromancer,” he said with a simple, matter-of-fact shrug. “They, um…think I can bring back the dead.”

  Jess’s breath caught. Gage had everyone’s attention, and why not? He had to be lying.

  But, what if he could? Could he bring back her father? Grams?

  No one could bring back the dead. Still, who wouldn’t want the chance to bring back someone they’d lost?

  Dr. Brandt shifted in his chair, hanging on to Gage’s words, probably aware that the rest of them thought he was psychotic, or at least lying. “Tell us what happened, Gage,” he encouraged.

  “Look. I don’t think I’m some necromancer. I don’t know what to think. I was only seven the first time I did it.” He lowered his voice. “My pet, Leo.”

  “You brought back the family cat?” Jess asked.

  “Not exactly,” Gage admitted.

  “So, you didn’t resurrect him?” Allison clarified, confused.

  “No. I mean, I did, but Leo wasn’t a cat,” Gage answered, looking a bit uncomfortable for the first time.

  A grin crept across Jess’s face. Good to know Hot Shot could be knocked down a few pegs.

  “So, he was a dog, then?” Bryan pressed. Even he seemed to sense Gage’s discomfort and was playing it to the hilt.

  Gage coughed and spoke softly. “Hamster.”

  “A hamster?” Bryan repeated with a laugh. Jess had to refrain from joining Bryan, and even noticed that Allison had cracked a smile.

  Bryan shook his head. “Sorry. I’m just picturing you with a hamster as a pet.”

  “Hey! I didn’t buy him, okay? I was a kid,” Gage said. “He was, well, he was sort of lying on his side, and I picked him up. My best friend Stu said I should give him CPR. So, I did. Not like I had a clue how to give CPR, but damn if it didn’t work.”

  Bryan laughed openly. “CPR? On a hamster?”

  Gage gave him a hard stare. “It was twelve years ago. Lay off me. I know my story sounds weird. Anyway, the next time, about a year ago, it was my brother’s dog. Some wire-haired mixed breed that followed him home one day. Ben named him Max. About a month after that, Ben got real sick and the doctors diagnosed him with an aggressive form of brain cancer. I found Max dead in the back yard. Ben loved that dog. We swore my brother was only hanging on because of Max.”

  He paused and took a sip of his drink.

  “Max was completely cold. Lifeless. I hated that my brother was dying, and now he’d just lost the one thing he loved most. I don’t know why, but I remembered the thing with…”

  “Your pet hamster?” Bryan added with a snicker.

  “Are you going to let me finish?” Gage nearly shouted.

  Bryan held up a hand in truce.

  “So, I tried the same thing with Max, and at first, nothing happened,” Gage went on. “Then, he just jerked awake, like he’d been in some deep sleep. Define irony, man. We still have Max. But Ben died four months later. Never came out of surgery. Damn dog still sleeps in his room.”

  “You tried to bring your brother back, didn’t you?” Allison asked.

  Gage looked like he wasn’t going to answer.

  “Go on,” Dr. Brandt insisted. “It’s important to tell everyone, Gage. This experiment depends on each of us—”

  “Yeah. I tried,” Gage interrupted, absently running a finger along the edge of his silverware. “Mom begged me to. How could I say no to that, ri
ght? Anyway, I would have tried to no matter what.” He stopped fiddling with the silverware, but he still seemed to be in some other place in his memories. He shook his head. “I don’t know what went wrong. Sometimes I wonder if I failed because I was afraid it wouldn’t work on a person. Maybe I’m limited to resurrecting animals.” He shrugged and gave a halfhearted smirk. “You’re probably thinking I should have applied to a vet school, right?”

  Everyone stayed quiet. No witty comebacks, no teasing.

  “Maybe I was too emotional and didn’t do it right.” Gage briefly closed his eyes. “My parents blame me that he’s still in the ground. They don’t come out and say it, but they keep asking what went wrong. Yeah, like I even know how I’m able to do it at all, and they want to know what happened? Like I don’t miss him, too. Once, my mother even asked what I had against Ben—that she loved us both. So, I sort of blame myself, too. I’m here because they think I can change what happened.”

  “Have you ever read The Monkey’s Paw?” Allison’s voice had taken on that calm, almost trance-like tone again. “Even if you could bring him back, he’s been in a casket for a long time. You do know what you’d be getting back, don’t you?”

  Bryan shook his head, his former playful expression nowhere in sight. “Allison’s right. Your brother would be a zombie, dude.”

  “Or worse,” Allison said, still in that odd, detached tone. “You shouldn’t call upon the dead. None of us should.”

  Jess glanced down at her plate. She’d assumed everyone just saw ghosts. She hadn’t expected this. The smallest prickle of fear crawled along her nape. She brushed at it, smoothing the hair against her neck.

  “Allison, how about if we hear your story next,” Dr. Brandt said.

  Allison sat for a few minutes, quiet. Dr. Brandt didn’t force her like he had Gage, and Jess didn’t think she was going to say anything at all. Finally, Allison blinked and took a deep breath, apparently no longer in whatever state of disconnect she’d been in. “I wish ghosts were the only things I had experienced. And I wish I could make things disappear like you, Bryan.” Her eyes darted to Gage. “I’m sorry for your curse. All of you, really. You’re cursed. We all are.”

 

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