The Haunting of Josiah Kash

by Dana Pratola

  “Gotcha,” he said, clicking the button on the side of the phone to snap a picture.

  “Ten dollars,” the phone said, in its mechanical monotone.

  I suddenly wanted to cry, and automatically covered my mouth with my hand. Had I ever considered how much difficulty the blind encountered performing a simple task like counting out money without assistance? Well, maybe I’d pondered such things a time or two, but it was so much more personal here in my face.

  He smirked, just a tiny lift at the corner of his mouth, then took another bill out, trying it again. I held my breath as I came up behind him, nearly releasing it in relief when I saw he’d left the door open. Once inside, I had to be more careful since the floor groaned in various places.

  I decided it would be best if I used the bathroom while he was still outside, so I climbed the steps, taking note that the whole house smelled of food. It was wonderful and made my stomach growl even though I hadn’t eaten too long ago.

  First things first. I finished my business in the bathroom, opened the door, and halted immediately when I saw Josiah on his way up. My mouth opened in a silent gasp, my hands raised—why, I had no idea.

  Instinctively, I took a step to the right, pressing my body flush against the wall instead of making a break for my room. There was a worn patch in front of the door that would definitely tip him off to my whereabouts.

  Even though I remained still, he stopped at the top with his hand wrapped around the newel post. I don’t know what he’d heard, or how, but he’d been alerted. Then he sniffed, his eyes shifting in one direction, then another. Wally, of course, all that aftershave! So much that the fragrance must have transferred to me just from him working on my bike. I smelled it now. Why hadn’t I noticed it before?

  I closed my eyes, held my breath, turning my head away as if to do so would make me vanish, taking Wally’s scent with me. Josiah gave another sniff. He had only to lean over two feet to find me.

  Opening my eyes just as he stepped into the bathroom, I seized the opportunity, utilizing giant steps to my bedroom, closing myself inside and pressing my ear to the door. The pressure of ear to wood exaggerated the thick thudding of my heart and rush of blood through my eardrums until it was all I could hear and had to back off.

  The faucet turned on, and off about thirty seconds later, and Josiah’s hesitant steps stopped at the top of the staircase. I silently prayed he wasn’t thinking about trying my door. Hearts were not made for this kind of strain! Finally, he muttered something and his phone gave a beep.

  The next sound that filtered through the solid wood door was instantly recognizable. The phone bouncing down the steps.

  CHAPTER 7

  “You’ve got to be kidding!” Josiah yelled.

  He let loose a stream of half-cusses, where he’d begin an expletive and cut it off short or change the end. I’d never heard a grown man do that before, and I didn’t know if I would be able to show that much restraint if my only lifeline was possibly irreparably smashed on the floor. When he said, “F—armer’s market!” I snorted into my hand.

  Finally, he heaved a heavy sigh, and I just had to see what was happening. I turned the lock and knob, waiting several beats before opening the door in time to see him hurrying down the stairs, gripping the railing.

  My heart just about broke, seeing him crouch at the bottom, groping around with widespread fingers, sweeping his arms out, then in, in search of his phone. He moved to his knees, crawling and feeling around like … a blind man.

  I couldn’t see the phone from the landing, so started cautiously down the steps. If I could find it, move it into his path….

  A creak rang out. Josiah stilled, same as me.

  “Hello…” he said, turning his head toward me.

  I clamped my lips together tight and forced my breath out slowly through my nose. My heart lodged in my throat, but I feared he would hear me if I swallowed it so I worked to regulate my breathing, waiting him out until he went back to searching a few seconds later.

  I had to move. I’d been in mid-step when he’d heard me and my quad knotted from keeping it still so long. When the pressure became unbearable, I let my foot touch the next step. The creak came again, quieter. He heard it and stilled again. There was a flash of fear in his eyes, which he doused quickly, raising his chin.

  “In the name of Jesus, you have to leave. Now,” he ordered, in a strong, steady voice.

  Wow, he really thought I haunted the place. I had to make a choice. For him to try to cast me out in the name of Jesus meant he believed the same way as me, that demons were the source of hauntings. If he heard me again, after his rebuke, he would be very confused, possibly scared. I absolutely did not want to scare him, but I couldn’t risk letting him know I was a living, breathing human. He’d tell Ben or someone and there’d be a much more thorough search than the first one.

  We stayed in that frozen stand-off for several minutes, until I just couldn’t take it anymore. I started forward letting the squeaks come as they may. If he was afraid, I was sorry for it, but better for him to think me something other than human than to be homeless again.

  I knew the last step was the noisiest. I might have tried stepping over it altogether if he hadn’t been so close to it, and if I didn’t think the sound of my foot landing would be heard. His focus was so intense he must be counting my heartbeats.

  I touched down on the final tread.

  Squeeaak.

  His shoulders tightened, for only a moment. Then he looked past me, shrugged and turned back to his task.

  “If you’re going to haunt a house, the least you can do is help me find my phone.”

  My heart slammed my ribs. Had he figured it out? Who asked a ghostly entity to find something? He must know I was real. But why would he say haunt? His voice hinted at nerves, and why not? Even if he could set aside a demon as the intruder, he still couldn’t be sure what he might be facing. I might be a six-foot-seven prison escapee—why my mind always went there, I had no idea—for all he knew.

  “I mean, you can see through things, probably,” he said. “Steer me in the right direction, would ya?”

  I started by him, close enough that if he reached out to his left, he would touch my leg. As soon as he swept right, I took the biggest, quietest step away that I could. Fortunately, it put me in the perfect position to see his phone, laying under the oval hall table. He was getting closer…closer…. Then he moved back and swept again. It might take him all night to find it at this rate.

  I dropped to my knees, moving slowly, stretching under the table to pick up the phone. I should have thought it through, but I just wanted him to find it, so I placed it directly in front of him, not realizing until after that he’d already checked there and found nothing.

  When his hand touched the phone, he snapped it back as though it bit him. Panic lit his face with this unreal glow. At least it looked that way to me since he was leaning back through a slash of sun coming through a side window. But almost immediately, his eyebrows came together in a scowl and that panicked look fled, to be replaced by something else.

  “I don’t know who or what you are, but I’m not afraid of you.”

  It sounded like the truth.

  “I’m a child of God. A child of the King. No weapon formed against me will prosper. You can’t hurt me.”

  I was impressed. I’d heard it preached, participated in Bible studies—what to do when confronted by evil—but he was actually doing it. I heard his conviction and nearly felt personally rebuked, like I should get up and leave the house.

  He paused, listening. I stayed where I was, waiting, until he finally picked up the phone and began pushing buttons to make sure it still functioned. Fortunately, it did, and with a deep breath, Josiah pushed to his feet and found his way into the parlor where he sat on the couch.

  I had nothing else to do, so sat there for a while, leaning back on my palms, ankles crossed, just looking at him. There was that tug again, through the center
of my chest into my stomach. He looked so handsome and tough. Like a cowboy. I was moved by more than his looks, though. I’d seen his tears, heard his frustration, now witnessed his courage. It remained evident on his face that he was not going to let an entity, harmless or otherwise, chase him from this house. Hmm. Maybe because said entity hadn’t given him reason to flee in terror.

  Even as I thought it, I shook my head. I wanted him gone, yes, in order to resume my lonely squatter existence without fear of discovery or eviction, but not at the cost of scaring him. I didn’t have it in me. I might be the furthest thing from a hostile entity he would ever meet.

  Musing over the possibility of other ways to make him leave, I didn’t hear the truck until it stopped outside. I hopped to my feet quietly and stretched my neck toward the window just in time to see a sandy head bob toward the front door. With no time to make it to my room, I once again retreated to the closet under the stairs.

  Following a quick knock and simultaneous, “Yo, Kash,” Ben came in.

  “In here.”

  “So, how’d it go with the church ladies?”

  “Just like you’d expect,” Josiah said. “Cried over, fussed over, prayed over.”

  “Yeah, as expected. So, let’s get to this.”

  From my hiding spot I couldn’t see what he referred to and after murmuring back and forth a little, they started walking in my direction to the staircase. Once they passed over my head and I heard them in the bathroom, I released the breath I’d been holding, only to gather it in again with the next thought. My room! Had I left it open, or closed the door behind me? What if Ben took a peek?!

  *****

  “That wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” Ben said. “Incision’s clean, tight, healing up nicely. The other spots too.”

  I touched a finger to the ridge of the initial wound, tracing it carefully, wondering if I’d have an imprint of a hoof.

  “Could have been so much worse,” Ben said. “That horse could have caved your skull in.”

  “Felt like it at first.”

  “Well how do you feel now? Headaches? Pain?”

  I had to think a second. The borderline savage headaches came and went, so it might return, but now, pretty good. “No, I’m a quick healer.”

  “Or your head really is made of granite,” Ben said. “Wonder how many drills they went through before they got in there.”

  He gave me a quick poke in the skull and I laughed.

  “Speaking of hard heads,” Ben started. “I went by your place—everything’s fine,” he interjected. “Ran into Tracy though.”

  “She’s still there, huh?” I would’ve thought she’d be long gone.

  “Yeah. Well, she was on the phone handling some business and packing all her stuff. Plans to move out of your house when you come back.”

  “But she plans to still work there?”

  “I have no idea,” Ben said, placing a hand on my back, nudging me out of the bathroom. “You going to let her stay on?”

  Was I? She did the job. People knew her, related to her friendly disposition. The male clients liked to hang around the office just a little longer to take in the sights. Pretty girl, no denying it.

  “I don’t know,” I said, letting Ben place my hand on the banister. “We’re definitely finished as a couple.”

  “Said she called, but you didn’t answer.”

  Ah, the mystery of the voice message, solved. “While you’re here, you can tell me how to retrieve my voice messages.”

  We went to the kitchen and I sat while he helped himself to a plate of food.

  “Just put everything back the way I left it so I can find it again later.”

  “You have a system?” he asked.

  “Of sorts.” I took my phone from my pocket. “Hey, look at this. I’ve been wanting to show you.”

  “What the hell happened to it?” Ben asked, taking the phone from my hand. “Looks like you threw it against a wall.”

  “What’s wrong with it? It still works.”

  “Screen’s cracked. There’s a dent, too. Did you throw it?”

  “It fell down the stairs.”

  “What? You didn’t go with it, did you?”

  His voice rang with alarm and I shook my head. “If I did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation now,” I said, with a slight chuckle.

  “Dude, that’s not funny. What if you’d fallen? I would’ve found you there—hey, you weren’t dizzy, or—”

  “No, just clumsy.”

  He let out a long sigh. “You shouldn’t be alone here.”

  “It’s just temporary. I figured I’ll hang out until Monday, see the doc, then no matter what he says, go home.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Ben agreed. “I hate leaving you here alone. What if you’d busted your phone, or lost it? You’d have no way to get help if you needed it.”

  “I think I did get help,” I told him. Though once I said it, I realized how stupid it seemed.

  “What?”

  “Finding it after it fell.”

  “How? What do you mean?” His tone had gone serious.

  “I felt around for it, for a while, then there it was in front of me. Never mind,” I said, waving the subject away. “This is what I wanted to show you.” I took a bill from my pocket and demonstrated my newly gained expertise with the money app. I was pretty proud of myself, actually.

  “Well, Lord willing you won’t have a chance to use it. I’m praying for full restoration of your vision. Soon,” Ben said.

  The words tugged something deep inside me and I swallowed what I feared might grow into a cry, or at the very least, a sniffle. That was not going to become habit. I had little patience for people who went around feeling sorry for themselves.

  CHAPTER 8

  By the time Ben was ready to leave, my legs were locked in a cross-legged position. When the men walked out onto the porch, I had to force myself to move from my hiding spot. I inched the door open, peered around the staircase, and started up, my legs cramping with the effort. I closed the door, locked it, then crept under the window to spy.

  They remained out of view under the porch roof, but talked another few minutes before Ben got in his truck and drove off, leaving me and Josiah alone once again. My stomach grumbled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten, and making me regret coming up here. Maybe Josiah would stay outside while I slipped into the kitchen for some of that food I’d heard Ben carrying on over. Or maybe I could wait until Josiah fell asleep for the night.

  Another rumble let me know waiting wouldn’t be an option, so I unlocked the door and cracked it open one millimeter at a time. With the gap about three inches wide, my stomach let loose an unholy growl that had me wrapping my arms around my middle to quiet it. Josiah could probably hear it downstairs!

  As it turned out, he had heard it. Two feet from my door. I couldn’t believe when I looked up to see his strained face staring just over my head. His left hand shot out, capturing the banister in a white-knuckle grip.

  “Who’s there?”

  I silently prayed my stomach wouldn’t give me away, and leaned as far away as I could in case he reached out to feel his way forward. Though I have to say, if I was blind, coming into a potentially occupied room would be the last thing on my mind.

  “Nothing to say?” he asked.

  The muscles in his jaw tightened and after several seconds, he took a step away. Good. He might be thinking clearly now, though I bet he was scared. Who wouldn’t be? I hated doing this to him, but I had no choice.

  “I don’t know what you are,” he said. “I don’t really care. You’re not going to scare me out of here. Looks like we’re stuck with one another for the time being.”

  He stood there awaiting a reply, probably hoping he didn’t receive one. Finally, he turned around.

  “I have to use the bathroom. I don’t know what the parameters are for ghosts—or whatever you are—etiquette. Don’t peek.”

  My heart raced so fast I fe
ared it might rocket straight out of my mouth. I clamped my lips together and when he walked away, I closed the door and reached for the lock, but my hands shook terribly and I couldn’t manage to lock it quietly, so sat back against it.

  I remained there for twenty minutes or so, trying to ignore the persistent gnawing in my stomach, even though Josiah had long since gone back downstairs. Only now the gnawing had progressed from desperate growling, to twisting and pitching, to the point where I was becoming queasy. I hoped I didn’t throw up what little was in there. Some sounds couldn’t be dismissed as ghostly.

  Whether he really thought me a spirit, or played along thinking his dismissal would keep him safe in some way, I couldn’t tell, but if he was fine with staying out of each other’s way, so was I. Unfortunately, I had to enter his domain on the way to the food.

  My muscles screamed with the deliberate effort to avoid squeaks as I descended the staircase. Sliding down the rail wasn’t an option. Coming down the treads was better at least than crossing the foyer in front of the parlor, where I knew the well-worn floorboards to be sensitive, and my progress would be slowed even more.

  I took the first step, delighted to hear him humming quietly from the couch. Another step, no creaks, still humming. Another. A board wheezed slightly, though his humming continued. Nerves stretched taut inside me and I had an overwhelming urge to make a mad dash for the kitchen. Then what? Grab food and run out the back way before he reached me?

  The closer I got to the kitchen the more noticeable the lingering smells of food, and the more my mouth watered. I swallowed and continued my quest, one wary foot at a time until I came to the refrigerator. I leaned back to see straight down the corridor where Josiah reclined on the couch, one foot on the floor, one over the shabby arm. Satisfied he was settled, I used my fingers to gently break the suction seal and pry the door open.

  The glorious wonder of a refrigerator filled with food almost made me cry. It was a simple thing, sustenance, yet I’d been without more than a meager share for so long now. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d opened a refrigerator that held more than a hard piece of cheese and a lightbulb. The only problem … opening these trays without making a racket. Foil. Sheesh! Why couldn’t it be plastic wrap?