Cold Summer Nights

by Sean Thomas Fisher

  COLD SUMMER NIGHTS

  This is for Esmeralda, who always believed and shines on.

  Thanks to everyone at Bump in the Night Publishing.

  Author’s Note

  Although this novella takes place in Des Moines, Iowa, any similarities between people and places are purely coincidental. Except for the ghost, who is still very much alive and not well.

  COLD SUMMER NIGHTS

  a novella

  SEAN THOMAS FISHER

  Copyright 2011 by Sean Thomas Fisher

  Published by Bump in the Night Publishing

  Chapter One

  Nick woke up and refused to look at the alarm clock. He felt wide awake and finding out it might not even be two in the morning yet would only make matters worse. The streetlight outside the window sliced through the mint green curtains, driving the pitch black out like a pied piper. The dark outline of the ceiling fan hovered above him. He still couldn’t believe there was a woman lying next to him who wasn’t Amy. With Summer in the picture these past two and a half months, he rarely found himself thinking about Amy anymore. Not like back in September. He doubted Summer would ever pull a stunt like Amy had. Summer was way too sweet for that. He exhaled, hoping Amy had least driven by and seen another car in his driveway tonight.

  Maybe it was close to dawn, but probably not. It was too dark out. He closed his eyes, shuddering at the prospect it was only three in the morning, leaving him quietly tossing and turning for the next few hours, sequestered in darkness. The last thing he wanted to do now was get up and start watching TV in the middle of the night. Summer might consider that a red flag, like texting too much.

  He couldn’t take it anymore and the alarm clock disappointed him with 3:32 lit up in blue numerals. His heart sank further when he saw the thin silhouette of someone standing next to him. He gasped and scrambled backwards across the queen sized bed like a crab, almost falling off the other side. He squinted at the shadow that stood there silently watching him with blank eyes.

  He swallowed dryly, his heart hammering in his chest. “Summer?”

  She didn’t respond, her strawberry smelling perfume lingering in the air. Long, dark hair spilled over her slouching shoulders and hung as limply as the slender arms at her side. Nick recognized his glow in the dark Metallica t-shirt she was wearing, even though its glow had run out of juice hours ago. He opened his mouth to ask what she was doing when the living room TV turned on.

  His head snapped over to the open bedroom door, his blood racing faster. Shadows danced across the hallway walls leading to the living room.

  He peeled back the red comforter and swung his feet to the carpeted floor, afraid to turn his back on Summer as he crept towards the open bedroom door. In the dimly lit master bedroom, he couldn’t tell if she was watching him or not. At the other end of the hallway, flashing pictures of whatever Fox was airing at three-thirty in the morning splattered the living room walls. Suddenly he got the feeling they weren’t alone.

  Before going out to investigate, Nick went back to his side of the bed, gently squeezing past Summer’s statuesque body, and grabbed a deep sea diving knife from beneath the gray bed skirt. Even though they were in Iowa, he knew this oceanic garage sale score would come in handy someday. Summer didn’t move or speak and he was hesitant to wake her, knowing that was the worst thing you could do to a sleepwalker. Thoughts of her violently attacking him slipped through his mind as he slowly pressed past her rigid frame again. Her wide open eyes made the hairs on his arms stand up and he still couldn’t tell if they were following him or not.

  He gripped the knife tighter and cautiously stepped into the narrow hallway. The closer he got to the living room, the more the boisterous audio breached his brain. In the dead of the night, the volume seemed overly amplified, but even worse, it masked the movement of any potential intruders.

  His eyes nervously darted around the living room. He crossed over to the coffee table and reached for the remote, feeling like he was moving in slow motion with the flat screen’s stroboscopic light bouncing off the beige walls. The knife’s sharp blade glimmered in the TV’s light and, without looking, he quickly hit the power button on the remote with his thumb. But King of the Hill refused to go away. He pointed the remote directly at the TV and hit the red button again. Nothing. He shook it and hit the button again to no avail. He tried turning it down and was met with the same result.

  “Damn,” he whispered, tossing the controller onto the couch and shuffling his bare feet across the dark wood flooring.

  He studied the TV with narrow eyes. Cartoon images flickered past, as he frantically scanned its black front and thin sides with his finger leading the way. This power button he didn’t know by heart so he gave up and turned on a nearby lamp. A local car dealer commercial came on, much louder than the cartoon had been. He quickly located the power button hidden on the side and pushed it with authority, cutting off the pretty brunette spokesperson in mid-sentence.

  The silence that followed was instant and thick. His right ear began ringing like a tiny ambulance was approaching inside his head while his puffy eyes swept the room, the knife turning in his sweaty hand. He gasped when he saw his own reflection staring back at him in a long mirror hanging horizontally above the couch. A pent up breath pushed past his lips as he turned and checked the front door’s deadbolt. It was still locked. He traipsed into the kitchen and checked the sliding glass door, which was secure as well. Back in the living room he surveyed the scene, scratching his nappy head. Outside of a few empty beer bottles and a purple stained wine glass, everything seemed to be in order. He turned to his new TV again and shook his head.“Nick?” rang out from the bedroom.

  His heart jumped. He glanced down at the knife in his hand, suddenly feeling foolish, and turned off the lamp. He shuffled his feet back down the hallway to find Summer already back in bed.

  “Were you watching TV?” she asked, propped up on her elbows and staring at him through slits.

  “No, it just turned on all by itself,” he said, climbing back into bed and discreetly sliding the knife back under the bed skirt.

  She brushed tangled hair from her face and tilted her head. “It did?”

  “Yeah, and the remote’s dead too.”

  She studied him through the faint darkness, processing the information through her foggy brain. “That’s weird. It was working fine last night.”

  He snorted, staring up at the ceiling fan again. “Those batteries are brand new.”

  Her head plopped back down into the pillow. “That’s creepy,” she yawned.

  “Right?” he said, his chest still undulating. “But you wanna know what’s really creepy? Right before the TV turned on, I woke up and you were standing right next to me.”

  She propped herself up on her elbows again and squinted at him. “What?”

  He turned to her. “Yeah, scared the shit outta me.”

  She paused, a frown spreading across her pallid complexion and then laughter wiped it away. “No I wasn’t!”

  “I’m not kidding. You must’ve been sleepwalking.”

  A small high-pitched laugh escaped her full lips. “I don’t sleepwalk,” she said, dropping her head back into the pillow.

  “I thought you were going to kill me.”

  She laughed lightly. “Only if you make me watch another one of those Transformers movies.”

  Her cold feet found his under the covers as his mind flipped through a rolodex of explanations, none of which made any sense. Do people sleepwalk with their eyes open? Maybe coffee and wine isn’t such a good combination before bed. And what about the TV? It wasn’t even two months old yet. How could it just turn on by itself?

  T
o his surprise, Summer’s heavy breathing quickly returned. He looked back to the ceiling fan with unfocused eyes, wondering if Amy was still sleeping next to Brad. He almost convinced himself he didn’t care. Summer was hotter anyway but he would have to play it cool. The last girl he met at a bar with Rusty, he scared off before he could even get her back to his house. Too many text messages. He cringed at the thought of it and rubbed his face. This would be different. Amy was six months ago and things were different now.

  His gaze wandered to the gray armchair facing him from across the room. Her jeans draped over its back reminded him of how great last night had been. He smiled, still not believing another woman was actually in his bed.

  Chapter Two

  The next morning, Nick couldn’t be any happier. Not only had he made it through the restless night but it was also Saturday and his day would have nothing to do with trying to sell houses to people, who most likely couldn’t get the credit if they wanted. The housing market in Des Moines, Iowa wasn’t much better than anywhere else and the competition was fierce.

  The pale morning light finally began pushing through the bedroom windows and Nick wasn’t sure if he had fallen back asleep or not. The image of Summer standing next to him during the night floated through his mind again. He massaged his head, which felt as thick as the pasty film coating his tongue and teeth. His breath smelled like farts.

  Slowly, he turned to Summer and his heart sank when he saw she was gone. He groaned, knowing he must’ve fallen back asleep after all. Before Amy, he’d had girls disappear on him during the night like this and, for the most part, he never cared. But this time he did. He liked Summer. Maybe he should text her and find out what was going on.

  The master bathroom door clicked open, startling him. He hadn’t even noticed it was shut. Summer stumbled out, her hair in a rat’s nest and his black Metallica t-shirt barely covering her purple panties. A sigh of relief escaped him. Not only was she still here but he wasn’t the only one still in their underwear. He admired her smooth, ivory skin as she crawled back into bed.

  “I found a bottle of aspirin in your medicine cabinet. I hope that’s okay.”

  “I’m going to need some myself,” he replied, rubbing his temples in hopes of quieting the pulsating thuds bouncing off his skull.

  “I left it right next to your hemorrhoid cream.”

  He frowned and she broke up laughing into the pillow.

  “Funny.” He smiled. “Behind my genital warts cream?”

  Her face wrinkled. “Ewe, I hope not!”

  He snatched his legs away from hers. “Man, your feet are freezing.”

  “I know, I’m always cold,” she said, casually stretching her legs out to find his again beneath the sheets.

  “I should turn up the heat,” he said, getting out of bed and feeling light headed as he pushed buttons on the digital thermostat in the hallway.

  “Come back to bed,” she moaned, her face half buried in the pillow.

  He slid beneath the covers and her feet drew to his legs like magnets. Cold magnets.

  “Wow, we gotta get you some socks,” he said, pulling the red comforter up to his chin.

  She laughed and kissed his cheek.

  “Some thick socks.”

  “Shut up,” she said softly, kissing his lips this time.

  They pulled apart and stared into each other’s eyes. Summer was cold but her smile was as warm as her name.

  “Thank you again for dinner last night.”

  He returned her smile. “How good was that place?”

  “So good!”

  They kissed again.

  When they separated, his grin faded.

  She narrowed her hazel eyes. “What?”

  He turned to her, leaning on one elbow. “So you’ve never walked in your sleep before?”

  She stared blankly before shaking her head. “Never.”

  “Because I’m telling you, you were standing right there.” He nodded towards the spot next to his side of the bed.

  Her brow folded. “What was I doing?”

  “Just staring at me.”

  Her eyes flickered back to the spot.

  “I mean, not that I can blame you,” he snorted. “My ex-girlfriend had a door poster of me on her closet.”

  She scrunched her face and met his eyes just before a loud laugh burst from her lips. “I bet she did!” she said, stretching her legs out and growing quiet.

  Nick glanced to her black jeans on the chair and looked back up, catching Summer in the middle of a long yawn. “So…do you wanna get some breakfast or something?”

  She finished her yawn and rubbed her eyes. “I should probably take care of some errands here pretty soon. I also have to make myself go for a run today.”

  “You mean we didn’t work off enough calories last night?”

  She flashed him a mischievous grin. “Not after all that wine,” she said, lightly brushing the tip of his nose with her finger.

  “Wow, you really know how to hit a guy where it hurts.”

  She laughed and pushed herself up off the bed. “I need to clean my apartment today too. It’s a complete disaster zone.”

  He sat up and leaned on both elbows. “Am I ever going to see this apartment?” After two months of dating, he was beginning to think she lived in some secret women’s shelter or something. It was always one excuse after the next.

  She pulled on her tight fitting jeans, finishing them off with a couple of small hops. “Maybe when it’s clean. Like I said, it’s nothing special.”

  His brow furrowed. “What do you have bodies hidden in the closet or something?”

  She grinned, stripping off his black t-shirt to reveal to firm breasts. “Just the last guy who didn’t treat me right.”

  “Ooh, there’s a hint in there somewhere.”

  She fastened her bra behind her back. “And don’t you forget it,” she said, throwing her white long sleeve top on. “So we still on for pizza and a movie tonight?”

  “I hope so.”

  She stepped into her dark brown heels, bent over him and stared into his eyes. He tried not to breath in her face by holding his breath.

  “Good,” she said, planting a long kiss on his lips. She stood back up and he silently exhaled.

  She turned and stopped in the doorway. “And don’t forget to brush your teeth,” she said, waving a hand in front of her face. “That’s nasty.”

  “Hey now.”

  Nick’s BlackBerry rang with the ring of an old fashioned wall phone. Just like the yellow one that had hung on the white kitchen wall of his childhood home. He looked at the screen, hoping it was Summer and frowned when he saw it was his brother, Matt. “What’s up?”

  “Hey, what’s going on over there?”

  “Just hanging out watchin some golf,” Nick said, stretched out on the couch and flipping through channels during a commercial break, the remote working fine again with new batteries.

  “So, how’d it go last night with Autumn?”

  Nick laughed. “You mean Summer?”

  His brother chuckled. “Yeah, whatever.”

  “It went pretty good. Pretty, pretty, pretty good.”

  “Alright Larry, did she spend the night?”

  Nick hesitated. “Maybe,” he said, landing on a channel with bikini clad girls racing ATVs across a white sandy beach with rich blue water in the background, their long hair blowing in the wind.

  “Nice! I knew you had it in ya. Tell me everything. What’s her favorite position?”

  Nick tried to keep from laughing. He felt like a giddy sixteen year-old school girl. “I’m not telling you anything.”

  “Come on, Nicky. You know I’m married with children. Outside of HBO, I haven’t seen another naked woman in over nine years. Is she a moaner?”

  “Wow,” Nick laughed.

  “She like it rough?”

  “Okay, really?”

  Matt cleared his throat. “Hey, ya know what? It just takes one to get pa
st what’s her name. Right?”

  “I heard it.”

  “So you think she could be the one?”

  Nick rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, Matt,” he said, staring at the TV with unfocused eyes. “She’s a walker.”

  Matt swallowed loudly into the phone and took a deep breath. “You mean she’s a zombie?” he quivered.

  Nick snorted. “No, I mean she’s a sleepwalker.”

  “Oh man, that sucks. That is something you really have to nip in the bud before you start waking up to find her peeing in the corner.”

  Nick busted up laughing again, rolling on the couch.

  “But hey, at least she’d be naked, and a naked hot chick peeing in your bedroom is better than no naked hot chick at all. Always remember that.”

  Nook inhaled a long breath. “Okay, I think I got it. Is that all you talk about?”

  “Sorry, Kathy was watching Giada earlier and got me all roused up. That lady’s low-cut tops are lethal.”

  Nick shook his head. “Who?”

  “Never mind. Speaking of the queen, I need you to do your older bro a serious solid tonight.”

  Nick drew in a deep breath and held it. “Tonight?” his voice cracked.

  “Yeah, Kathy’s friend has an extra pair of tickets for Taylor Swift at the Wells Fargo Arena.”

  Nick’s face twisted. “Taylor Swift?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Listen, she really wants to go. Can you watch Madison tonight and we’ll pick her up in the morning?”

  Nick exhaled, his eyes roaming the room, searching for an excuse to get out of it. He didn’t want to put Summer in an awkward position of baby-sitting his family members quite yet, if ever.

  “Hello? Nick? Hello?” Matt asked a in a bit of a panic.

  Nick rubbed his face and stared at the ceiling. “Yeah, um tonight actually isn’t the best night in the world for me.”

  “Why? Is that naked hot chick coming back over or something?”