Three pairs of hands reached across the table.
“I’ll ask the questions since it’s my board. And whatever happens, don’t take your fingers off the planchette. When the session has finished, we have to say goodbye or the spirits will follow us home.”
“Speaking of spirits,” said Rick. “I could do with a drink about now.”
“Alcohol interferes with the process,” said Nessa before looking directly at him. “And shut up!” She cleared her throat. “Ready?”
Both men mumbled their readiness.
“Is there a spirit in the room?” she asked.
Charlie started snickering. “Hey, do you want to have some fun, babe?”
Ellis nodded hesitantly.
“Teach them a lesson or two,” said Charlie as he approached the table.
He leaned forward and moved the planchette to Yes.
Rick sprang back, his chair skittering across the floor, earning himself a dark look from Nessa.
“If you’re not going to take this seriously, you can go home.”
Rick pointed at the board. “Yeah, but did you see that? Did you see it? It moved. It bloody-well moved!”
“It’s supposed to,” replied Nessa sarcastically. “Now, put your fingers back on the planchette and do it properly.”
Charlie could hear Ellis chuckling behind him.
“Is there a spirit in the room?” Nessa asked again.
Once more, Charlie moved the planchette to Yes.
“What is your name?” Her voice had suddenly become mysterious and trance-like.
Charlie grinned as he spelled out Y-O.
“Yo?” the teens chorused.
“Yo who?” asked Nessa.
Charlie spelled out M-A-M-A.
A faint line appeared between Nessa’s eyebrows. “Yo…Mama?” Then she got it. “Yo Mama!”
Rick burst out laughing. “Yo Mama. I love it. It’s got a sense of humour.”
Nessa refocused her attention on the planchette. “With all respect, if you aren’t going to be sensible, then we might as well leave.”
“Maybe that’s what it wants,” said Matt, still smiling at Charlie’s joke.
“Or maybe it’s a Chinese spirit,” added Rick. “With a Chinese name.”
Charlie spelled out S-O-R-R-Y with the planchette. This seemed to appease Nessa.
“How many spirits are here?” she asked.
T-W-O
“Were you both killed here?”
Charlie moved the planchette to “Yes.”
Nessa snuck a glance at Matt before asking, “Were you killed in the kitchen or on the porch?”
As much as Charlie didn’t want to give Nessa any leverage, he saw no reason to lie.
P-O-R-C-H
A small smile materialised on Nessa’s self-satisfied face, making Charlie instantly regret not having lied.
“Can you do something to prove you are really a spirit?”
Charlie turned to Ellis, who shrugged.
“More than move the planchette?” he asked. “She’s a demanding creature.”
Ellis shrugged again. “I suppose you could slap her.”
Charlie chuckled. “Don’t tempt me.”
Instead, he grabbed a handful of her hair and lifted it, causing her to gasp. The eyes of her two male companions nearly popped out of their heads and rolled across the floor. For a moment, even the unflappable Nessa appeared dumbstruck, frozen, with mouth agape and fingers rigid on the planchette; the very picture of terrified.
“That’s cool,” said Rick. “Make it do something else.”
Charlie grabbed the man by the back of the shirt and lifted him off his chair. It seemed that even in death, Charlie was no stronger than he had been in life. And while that strength was considerable, it wasn’t enough to do anything more astounding than lifting a man a couple of inches into the air.
Ellis laughed uncontrollably. “The looks on their faces.”
“Join in,” said Charlie. “Don’t let me have all the fun.”
Ellis began opening cupboard doors and slamming them shut, and rattling the cutlery draw so all the knives and forks and spoons jiggled and rattled.
Charlie opened the back door just as a mighty gust of wind blew a wall of rain and leaves into the kitchen. As a bonus, a door further down the hallway, obviously affected by the wind or the change in air pressure, slammed shut, adding to the effect of a haunted house.
“That’s it!” shrieked Rick, “I’m outta here!”
“We have to say goodbye!” shouted Nessa, her voice getting lost in the maelstrom of rain and wind and leaves. She shouted, “Goodbye,” before snatching up the planchette, the board, and her coat, and following her two male friends down the hallway and out the front door.
Charlie and Ellis doubled over with laughter.
“Did you see their faces?” asked Ellis.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if fresh underpants were needed,” said Charlie. “Hey, I think we’ve discovered the reason why ghosts haunt.”
“Why?”
“It’s so much bloody fun!”
Chapter 4
Time quickly became a meaningless concept to Charlie and Ellis. The only non-electric clock they owned had stopped working, and only God and the devil could say how many hours, days, or weeks passed while they slept. Half the time, they didn’t even know what season it was, for there were the occasional storms at the end of summer, as well as the many that winter and autumn brought.
Over time, the house began to fall apart. On the outside walls, the paint had begun to peel and flake. Some of the floorboards on the porch had warped and a few curved up from the floor as though greeting the sun. The garden had become a wild tangle of grass, shrubs, weeds, and litter. And every now and again, a homeless person would take shelter in a corner on the porch, leaving it reeking of urine. Among other things.
Inside, the curtains had become faded, dusty, and tatty. A thick coat of dust covered everything and the slightest movement sent grey clouds erupting into the air. Rats were frequent visitors, along with a host of other critters. There were mice in the kitchen and pigeons roosting in the space below the roof. There might have also been a possum or two, though the culprit causing the heavy shuffling noises was never actually located.
Charlie and Ellis spent most of their time between the lounge room and their bedroom. When they felt weary, they went upstairs and laid down. When they woke, they came downstairs. Once, they even attempted to go for a walk around the block.
“Why not?” asked Ellis.
Outside, slate-coloured clouds threatened rain. Thunder rolled in the distance, but the men remained undeterred. They left the house and walked to the footpath, hand in hand. Charlie couldn’t hide his excitement at finally being able to do something away from the house. The curious thing was, they had taken no more than two dozen steps when they found they could go no further.
“What’s happening?” asked Ellis.
Charlie had no answers. “Let’s try going the other way.”
And so they started walking in the opposite direction. They hadn’t gone much further than Mrs. Andersson’s garden gate when again they found they were stopped in their tracks. The same thing happened when they tried to cross the road, coming to a dead stop halfway across.
“Very strange,” said Charlie. “What do you think?”
Ellis shook his head. “Maybe we’re tied to the house in some way.”
“You could be right. Looks like we’ve found a second disadvantage to being dead.”
Ellis hugged Charlie and kissed him on the lips.
Charlie enjoyed the sensation of their kisses. The tingling. The little trace of electricity that coursed through his entire body, making him shudder and shake with delight. And since they knew no one could see them, they continued kissing and hugging, their erections tenting their pants until Charlie pressed his hips against Ellis’s.
“I love you so much,” he whispered.
“Will
you still love me in fifty years? After we’ve been cooped up in that little house together all those long decades?”
Charlie nodded.
“Will you still love me after we’ve exhausted all the possibilities for distraction and we’re left with only each other for entertainment?”
“Yes.”
Ellis kissed Charlie on the lips. “I hope so.”
Together, they turned and faced the house.
“It’s a sad sight, isn’t it?” asked Ellis.
“Yes, it is. And unfortunately, we don’t have the tools or the knowledge to prevent it from getting sadder.”
“What do you think will happen? To us, I mean. After the house falls down, or gets knocked down?”
Charlie shook his head and began walking towards the dilapidated building.
“What happens happens, and we’ll just have to find a way to deal with it.”
* * * *
After the storm had passed, Charlie and Ellis retired to their bedroom, almost an automatic response. Charlie could feel the weariness in the very core of his being, but it didn’t bother him. For one reason, the long periods of sleep, or whatever happened when he was no longer conscious, were a welcome break from the monotony that had begun to creep into their lives. Secondly, he knew they would always wake up again, side by side in the bed they had shared when alive. There was no reason to worry about disappearing from the world for a while.
It had become Ellis’s habit upon getting out of bed to go to the window and check for any changes that had taken place while they were sleeping. It was therefore no surprise for Charlie to find Ellis exactly where he expected him to be. At the window.
“Anything to report?” asked Charlie.
Ellis nodded. “Unfortunately, there is.”
Charlie pulled on his clothes, which, surprisingly, didn’t show the least sign of wear and tear. He deduced it was because they were so much a part of him that they, too, were immortal. It was just a pity they were prison issue. “What are we looking at?”
Ellis indicated the sign that stood at the front of their property. “It’s a ‘For Sale’ sign.”
Charlie looked at him, puzzled. “How do you know? The sign’s facing the other way.”
“I just know. I looked at it and I knew. See if I’m wrong.”
“Okay, okay,” said Charlie, holding up his hands in surrender.
“Who’s selling it?”
Charlie draped an arm around his partner’s shoulder. “Probably a relative. It’s been standing here vacant for so long that something had to happen to it sooner or later. Whether that means being sold or pulled down.”
“Or both.”
“Yes, or both. But won’t it be nice after it’s been done up and made livable again?”
“And the people who move in? What are they going to do when they find out they’ve got housemates? Uninvited housemates?”
“They won’t even notice. We take up hardly any space at all. We’re quiet. We don’t eat or drink. Why, we’re the perfect housemates.”
Ellis remained unconvinced. “I wonder if they’ll think so.”
Charlie gave Ellis’s shoulder a little squeeze. “Anyway, houses usually take ages to sell. Especially old derelicts like this one. Who’s going to want to buy it? It’ll be months yet before anyone even gives it a second look.”
* * * *
To Charlie and Ellis’s horror, Charlie had been wrong.
A week later, on a gloomy winter’s day, a real estate agent showed a young couple through. The wife looked pregnant, and Charlie guessed this would be their first house. His and Ellis’s once-beautiful home was probably going cheap.
Naturally, Charlie and Ellis kept a close eye on proceedings, if only because it was a touch of excitement in an otherwise unexciting existence.
“The price is great,” said the young man. “I just think it needs a little bit too much work. The baby’s due in a few months and whatever we buy will have to be ready by the time he arrives.”
“Or she,” added the wife.
The real estate agent, a portly man with a red complexion and matching jacket, harrumphed. “We can supply labour at an affordable price,” he said, no doubt worried he might lose the sale. “They’ll do everything for you. The electrics. The painting. Everything.”
The man looked at his wife, who shook her head. And everyone in the room knew what that meant.
Charlie and Ellis were elated.
The next time the chubby estate agent showed up, he was accompanied by two Asian couples. Charlie discovered it was a married couple and the husband’s parents, coming along to make sure their son and his wife weren’t ripped off.
Charlie got the sense they were keen to buy. They didn’t care they would need a machete to get through the overgrown front and back yards. They obviously saw potential, and Charlie sensed they had the capital to make it happen. This disturbed him.
“I’m not ready to say goodbye to our home,” said Ellis, as if also sensing the imminent sale. “We have to do something. Besides, four people in the same house is too many. And when they finally have children, there’ll be five, or six, or seven people! That’ll make our lives uncomfortable. They have to go.”
Charlie nodded, in full agreement. “You take this floor and I’ll go upstairs.”
The estate agent stood by the front door, smiling an idiot smile and nodding every time one of his clients looked at him. “Take your time. Have a good look around.”
Charlie sensed the estate agent also knew he was within inches of a sale. That’s what he thinks, thought Charlie as he climbed the creaking stairs.
Upstairs, the younger couple stood in the master bedroom. They examined every inch of the space, knocking on the walls and testing the floorboards.
“It’ll take us months just to clean it,” said the wife, disgust on her face.
Outside, a crack of thunder made the young wife jump.
Charlie leapt into action. He took one corner of the bedspread and pulled it so it started to slide across the mattress.
The wife screamed. “Oh, my God. Did you see that?”
The husband placed a protective arm around her waist. “What was it? What happened?”
The woman pointed at the bed. “It moved. The bedspread moved like someone was pulling on it.”
At that point, Charlie heard the heavy footfall of the estate agent rushing up the stairs as quickly as he was able. “What’s wrong?” he asked, puffing and wheezing, his face redder than ever.
“The thunder frightened my wife. That’s all. Nothing to worry about.”
The woman glared at her husband.
The estate agent took out a handkerchief and dabbed his face. “Oh, that’s all? Good, good. I mean, good it was nothing more serious. I’m sorry. I’ll leave you alone. Unless I can be of any assistance?”
The husband shook his head and smiled. “No, thanks. We’re happy to keep looking by ourselves.”
The estate agent nodded and left. He’d barely reached the stairs when the wife began berating her husband in Mandarin. He did his best to calm her down, but his efforts appeared only to antagonise her further.
She glanced back at the bed, and Charlie tugged the bedspread a little further down the mattress.
The wife screamed again and hurried from the room. Her husband, calling after her, followed. The sound of the front door slamming was music to Charlie’s ears. He watched from the bedroom window as the wife got into the car and sat there, waiting, with arms folded and a dark look on her face. Moments later, her husband and his parents raced out of the house with the bewildered estate agent giving chase.
“I don’t think we’ll be seeing them again,” said Charlie with a satisfied grin.
* * * *
The following afternoon, the sun came out and every trace of grey cloud disappeared. That meant no matter how much Charlie and Ellis wanted to stay downstairs to see who the roly-poly estate agent brought through next, they had to retire to t
heir bed and leave everything up to the gods. It was the only time Charlie had ever felt uncomfortable about not being around.
* * * *
Upon waking, Charlie noticed immediately that the room had been painted and clean curtains hung at the window. There was new furniture everywhere and a vase of fresh flowers on the bedside table. Only their old bed remained, marring the beauty of the new décor.
At the window, standing beside Ellis, he stared down at an elderly lady watering a beautiful garden of roses and daisy bushes.
“Damn!” said Charlie. “How long have we been asleep?”
“Probably a very long time,” replied Ellis.
“I suppose we didn’t get any storms this spring.”
“We never usually do,” said Ellis. “I can’t see why this year should be any different.” He paused. “But it’s definitely summer. You can feel it in the air. It must be late summer if we’re in for a storm. Although if that’s so, why is she out there watering the garden?”
“I don’t know. But while she’s out there, let’s look around. See what she’s done to our home.”
Charlie deduced she hadn’t long moved in. He could smell the faint aroma of fresh paint and carpet glue. The carpet, especially, felt good beneath his feet. In every room, there was new furniture and new curtains. Beautiful paintings of landscapes and seascapes hung on the walls. Family photos in shiny silver frames graced many of the available surfaces.
Downstairs, bigger changes had been made. The kitchen had been completely remodelled. Nothing of the old one remained. There was a new oven, a stove, table, and chairs, and a selection of shiny appliances adorned the shiny countertop. And in the lounge room, a large flat-screen television hung on the wall above the fireplace, where real logs sat waiting for a cold, raining day to be lit. New rugs covered the new carpet, and more breathtaking scenes of forests and oceans hung on the walls.
“I think I’m going to like living here again,” said Ellis. “I think I’m going to like living with our new housemate.”
Charlie couldn’t agree more. The old lady had certainly transformed their former home into something cosier and more comfortable than they’d ever had it.
“It seems that sometimes it’s better to let fate play its hand,” said Ellis. “All that manipulating and scaring people off. Look what happens when we’re not around! The perfect housemate shows up and does all of this.”
Why Ghosts Haunt Page 3
