All Things Lost

by Josh Aterovis

  “W-w-what did you say?” she stammered.

  “The house is haunted, am I right?” Steve said, his voice as calm as ever, although his eyes had taken on a merry twinkle. Not what one would expect from someone who had just suggested we were in a real-live haunted house.

  “Did someone say something before you came? That's what it is, isn't it? People are spreading the stories all over.”

  “Actually, I hadn't heard any stories, although I would love to hear them now. I'm something of a paranormal buff.”

  “Um…this whole conversation is paranormal if you ask me,” I interrupted. “You don't really believe in ghosts do you, Steve?”

  “I believe I'm not so smart as to think I know all there is to know about this universe we live in. There are so many things we just simply can't explain through the use of logic and science.” He was really warming up to his subject, pacing around the entryway in long, excited strides as he talked. I'd never seen him like this. “There is a whole supernatural realm that we know very little about. If you want to call them ghosts, meaning an apparition of a deceased person, fine. Or you can call them manifestations of surviving emotional memories, a kind of emotional imprint.”

  “So you're still interested in the house?” Victoria said, incredulousness filling her voice.

  “Of course. I want a full tour, and all the history you know.”

  “Well, if you're sure. After the Captain died…” she paused as if she expected Amalie to insert a comment here, then went on when only silence filled the gap, “…there were no children, so the house was passed through a succession of owners. It was left empty for quite an extended period of time right after the turn of the century. A doctor named Johnson from Baltimore bought it in the Roaring Twenties and it was quite the swinging joint for a while.” Speaking of swinging, she was getting back into the swing of her prepared speech now that she knew she still had a live one on the hook. Her color had returned to normal and she was becoming more animated as she talked. “Over time, most of the surrounding land was sold off for farmland. When the Captain bought the land, the plantation encompassed more than a thousand acres.”

  She continued, “When Doctor Johnson died in 1950, his son left it vacant for a number of years and it fell into disrepair. The son eventually sold the house to another doctor who intended to retire on the Shore. He fixed up the house and he and his wife moved down. They didn't stay long. That's when the ghost stories started.” Victoria paused and took in Steve eager expression before continuing. “His wife said she heard strange noises at night, doors opening and closing, footsteps-the usual. The last straw apparently was when she woke up one night to find a woman standing at the foot of her bed. When she screamed to wake her husband up, the woman vanished into thin air.”

  “So she actually saw a manifestation?”

  “So she said. The couple wasn't long in moving out and as you can imagine, word spread like wildfire. For a while, it was quite the attraction. They even had a famous psychic come to the house to give a reading. She said she felt a very sad woman, the usual vague psychic stuff. Eventually interest died out, but the good doctor couldn't find a soul to buy it. When he died it went to his wife, who left it to her daughter, who finally managed to sell it to someone. It went through about a dozen owners in the next forty years. No one lived here very long, except for one couple who seemed to get a kick out of living with a ghost. By that time, people had taken to calling the house Amalie's house, since everyone just assumed the ghost was Amalie. The current owner has had the house on the market for two years now.”

  “The ghost has never been violent, though?” Steve asked.

  “Not to my knowledge.”

  “Let's see the rest of the house then.”

  She led us on a tour of the home. It was just as impressive inside as it was out. The house sat on an east-west elevation, facing east. On the south side of the house, facing the creek, was a huge ballroom. A row of wavy glassed windows looked out over the yard to where a few lonely looking posts gave testament to the dock that was once there. On the north side was a parlor and a library. The oldest part of the house had been converted into the kitchen at some point in the last century. It still had a huge brick fireplace that took up most of one wall and dark wooden beams across the ceiling. Smooth worn bricks covered the floor. I found it to be the most comforting room I'd been in yet.

  The second floors consisted of five bedrooms, three across the front and two on the back. The third floor, originally quarters for the live-in servants, had been converted to four more bedrooms. The Captain had built the house for entertainment, expecting regular guests. We found out that the cupola on top had been built so Amalie could watch the Creek for the Captain's return. It was there that Amalie's ghost was claimed to have been seen the most, and it was the door that led to the narrow staircase up to the cupola that was said to open and close so frequently. The idea being that Amalie was still waiting for the Captain to come home. Personally, I would have thought that she would have caught on by now.

  Throughout the whole tour, Steve acted like a kid at Disney World. He was especially interested in the bedroom that the woman had said she had first seen Amalie in. It was, he surmised, probably originally Amalie's bedroom. I thought that he was stretching a bit for that one, but then, I wasn't a paranormal buff like he was. Most of the house was empty, with almost no furnishings, but that one room had been used as a storage room. And from the looks of things, no one had bothered to clean it out since the Roosevelt administration-the first one. I found myself just itching to jump in and start sorting through the castaways left by previous generations like an archeologist digging through stratum. But of course, I couldn't. I kept getting a prickly feeling at the back of my neck but I tried to pass it off as suggestive thinking in a creepy old house.

  The only place we didn't go was down into the basement since Victoria seemed a little reluctant and the lighting left something to be desired.

  After the house, Victoria led us around the grounds. The Captain had planted trees from all over the world, trees that he'd found on his travels. He was determined to make his gardens the envy of the social scene of the day. As a result, the yard was now full of rare and exotic trees, many well over a hundred and fifty years old. There were familiar species, like the enormous and dignified old magnolias and the graceful and melancholy weeping willows; and there were the unfamiliar, like an African elephant pine. Most of the yard was fairly well kept considering no one had lived in the house in years, but part of the back yard was overgrown with a dense undergrowth. The Chicone Creek emerged from this jungle-like copse and ran a picturesque course through the side yard.

  The tour concluded back in front of the house. In the early afternoon warmth, the spicy smell of boxwood filled the air and a chorus of birds chirped cheerily from the trees. The eerie feeling I had experienced inside the house now seemed miles away. I couldn't imagine a more perfect bucolic scene.

  “Well, that's pretty much it, Victoria said, “The property that you saw is actually only a portion of the total acreage. The property extends a ways into the forested area behind the house and across the creek. A lot of it has grown up but it could be cleared and it would make a wonderful recreational area with trails.”

  “It's a beautiful setting, no doubt,” Steve said, “I appreciate you meeting us out here to show us around.”

  “Hey, it's my job,” she said with a sparkly smile, “and my pleasure.” I thought I noted a hint of flirtation in her voice. Apparently she didn't know that Steve batted for the other team.

  “I'll get in touch with you if I have any more questions,” Steve said politely.

  Her smile dipped a few watts at the obvious dismissal, but she recovered quickly, “Great, you have my number, right?”

  “Sure do.”

  We stood awkwardly for a minute before she finally said good-bye. We watched while she climbed back into the car and drove away. She wasn't even out of sight before Steve wh
irled around, hands on hips and wearing a huge smile.

  “What do you think?”

  “What? Of the Bates Hotel?” I teased.

  “Oh come on, it's incredible. Look at this place. Something like this comes on the market once in a lifetime. And it has a ghost! Do you know what that means?”

  “That it's haunted?”

  “It means I can haggle on the price. I should be able to get them to bring it down considerably. I bet no one else is even interested in it. Although, I have to admit, after seeing this place it's already an incredible price. The property alone must be worth almost what they're asking. And the house is in incredible shape.”

  “You're using the word incredible an awful lot.”

  “That's because it's just incredible. This is exactly what I had in mind, and as an added bonus it has its own ghost.”

  “You know most people wouldn't consider that a bonus. You don't really buy this whole ghost thing do you?”

  “Killian, you of all people should know that there are things beyond our understanding.”

  I frowned, “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “You're the one who told us all about Asher's Aunt Judy and her psychic powers of perception. Why is that such a big jump to believing in ghosts?”

  “She's not psychic…exactly. Are we really having this conversation?”

  “Think about it, Killian! How often do you get the chance to communicate with someone who's been dead for over a century?”

  “Not that often I would imagine.”

  “I've wanted to do this ever since I was a kid and read my first book by Poe. I'm buying this house. I can't tell you how excited I am.”

  He didn't have to; enthusiasm practically beamed from him like rays of light from a lighthouse. I was having trouble reconciling the always calm and rational Steve, the voice of reason for our family, with this animated man standing here now babbling about talking to dead people.

  He spun around to face me, let's go home. I want to tell Adam all about it and contact Victoria to see how much they'll come down on the price. Maybe we can be in here before summer is over.”

  Steve nattered on about ghosts and famous haunted houses all the way home. I wondered how I had lived with this guy for almost two years and missed this odd obsession. The more I thought about it though, the more clues I realized I had missed. His favorite movie was The Sixth Sense, he had a whole library of “true” ghost stories and famous hauntings, and he was fascinated by that psychic woman who was always on the daytime talk shows.

  My crash course in the paranormal ended when we pulled into our driveway. I followed Steve into the kitchen where we found Adam stirring what looked like the makings of a pastry crust in a large mixing bowl. I knew right away that something must be bothering him. He only made pastry when he was upset.

  For once Steve didn't seem to notice as he launched into an excited blow-by-blow. Adam cut him off quickly.

  “Killian, Asher's upstairs in your room,” he said, “He's been here all morning. I think he's upset.”

  I wondered what I had done now. With a sigh I went upstairs. I found Asher lying on his stomach on my bed. Kane was tapping away contentedly at the computer, but as soon as I came in he hopped up and left the room. I didn't think that was a good sign. I was right.

  “Where were you?” Asher demanded as he rolled over and jumped to his feet.

  “I was with Steve,” I said as evenly as I could manage. Despite my earlier nap I could feel my sleepless night starting to catch up with me. I had a feeling this could get ugly. I hoped I was wrong.

  “Why didn't you let me know?”

  “I didn't know I needed your permission.”

  “What is that supposed to mean? I thought we were a couple, we're supposed to tell each other when we're doing things.”

  “We're not married, Asher. We're not even living together yet. It never even crossed my mind to call you. Look, I didn't sleep well last night so I'm really not in the mood for this right now, ok?”

  “No, it's not ok. What's going on with us? I feel like we're drifting apart.”

  “Then maybe we need a break.” I spoke without thinking and I regretted it as soon as the words left my mouth. Asher reacted as if I'd delivered a physical blow. He crumpled onto the edge of the bed and his face flushed bright red.

  “What?” he whispered.

  “I…I…”

  “You're breaking up with me?”

  “No! I didn't say that. Adam just suggested that maybe we need some time apart.”

  “Adam thinks we should break up?”

  “We're not breaking up. Just forget I said anything. It's just that Marcus started it last night and then today…”

  “Marcus thinks we should break up too? What? Does everybody think we should break up? If everybody thought we were so mismatched why didn't anyone say something sooner?”

  “Asher, nobody thinks we should break up, but people who are close to us can't help but notice that we're having trouble. Adam suggested we take some time off, to give us space and think. You know, figure stuff out?”

  “And you want to do that?”

  “I…don't know. Maybe.”

  “Great, just great,” he leaped up and ran past me. I tried to grab his arm as he passed but he yanked away and kept going.

  “Asher!” I called as I ran after him, “Asher, wait!”

  He stopped at the foot of the stairs and whirled around to face me. “Don't bother, Killian Kendall,” he yelled, “We're through.” And with that he spun around and flew through the door, which was being held open by a stunned looking Kane. I sat down with a thud halfway down the stairs as Steve and Adam rushed into the hall. No one said a word until the sound of Marcus' car roaring to life broke the awkward silence.

  “Killian, are you ok?” Adam asked as Kane said, “What happened?”

  “No, I'm not ok. Asher and I just broke up.” I leaped up and ran back up to my room, slamming the door behind me.

  A second later, a soft knock came at the door. “Killian?” Adam called.

  I grunted from my face down position in my pillow. I heard the door open and close gently and few moments later I felt him sit down next to me.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  I rolled over onto my back. “Talk about what?”

  “What happened?”

  “I don't even know what happened. I suggested we take a break like you said and then next thing I know Asher's breaking up with me.”

  “Did he misunderstand you?”

  “I don't know. He just freaked out.”

  “It sounds like he may have overreacted. Maybe after he calms down you two can talk.”

  “Or maybe he was just looking for an excuse to break up with me. And I handed it to him on a silver platter.”

  “You don't know that, Killian. At the very least, this will give you both a chance to figure out what you really want.”

  “Yeah, whatever. I think I'm just going to take a nap now.”

  “Ok, kiddo.” He leaned forward, kissed my forehead, and then left me alone with my thoughts.

  * * *

  Nothing changed in the next few weeks. Asher refused to answer my calls and when I went to his house, I was sent away with an apology by a sheepish looking Marcus. I kept waiting for some great revelation to bring me perfect clarity, but it never came; I remained just as confused as ever.

  The world kept on turning even without my moment of lucidity. The insurance company decided that my car was a total loss. The accident, on the other hand, turned out not to be a total loss. One day, while I was talking to Mr. Novak on the phone about the accident, he mentioned that his assistant had recently taken another job. I asked him if he would consider hiring me even though I didn't have any real experience and he hired me on the spot. I was in the PI business! I was envisioning high-speed car chases, breaking into buildings at midnight, wearing all black, and packing a gun. Reality turned out to be a lot more boring,
as it so often does. I mostly answered the phone, typed on the computer and filed. I was more of a secretary than an assistant, but at least I was making money. It seemed that most of the cases Novak accepted were insurance scam investigations and an occasional divorce case.

  I had my own desk in the small reception room of Novak's office, which was on the second floor of a modern, soulless building in the small city of Salisbury. Besides my rather battered desk, the only other furnishings in the front room were two bright orange fake leather chairs that looked like they have been rejects from a 70's era doctor's office. Novak's office was neat as a pin. The walls were lined with bookcases filled to the brim with books. The top of his large desk was always clear and looked as if he never used it.

  Steve was going ahead full force with his plans to buy Amalie's house. The real estate company, apparently ecstatic that someone was seriously interested in buying the white elephant, had come down a considerable amount. The bank had approved everything and everyone involved was amazed at how quickly things were moving. Steve was on cloud nine. He and Adam went shopping for period antique furniture almost every day. Adam still seemed to be in some kind of weird funk, but the only way you could really tell was by the abundance of pies, tarts and cookies around the house.

  One day, about a week before Steve was to go to settlement, the door to Novak's office swung open and in walked Judy. She breezed into the office as if she owned the place, took a look around and shook her head in disappointment. Her hair had grown out quite a bit since the last time I'd seen her. Her golden blonde locks now fell to just below her shoulders. She was wearing a faded pair of jeans and a slightly oversized t-shirt with PFLAG written on it in large rainbow colored letters.

  “Dearest Killian, I thought you would have had more taste than this. Can't you do something to make this seem like a place you want to be?”

  I grinned and jumped up, “Aunt Judy! I didn't even know you were here.”

  “Oh God, please, drop the aunt stuff. It's Judy. And I've been here exactly twenty-two hours. We got in yesterday and what's the first thing I hear? That my mule-headed nephew and his equally mule-headed boyfriend, who I am very fond of by the way, have broken up. So of course I headed right for your house and they sent me here. I met Steve by the way. I'll be helping to decorate new homestead.”