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The Haunting of Josiah Kash

Page 12

by Dana Pratola


  She’d become so quiet I would have thought she had left the room if I didn’t know better. After a few seconds, she got up from the bed and sat in front of me, the fragrance of my shampoo wafting up to reach my nostrils. I’d smelled it when I came into the house. Smelled better on her.

  Before now I hadn’t wanted so badly to see her, but it was somehow important now. I didn’t have the first inkling how to touch faces to see like actual blind people—I was relieved to find I didn’t consider myself actually blind—but I really wanted to know what she looked like. I’d held her briefly, so I knew she was slender, about five-six, five-seven.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “What do you look like?”

  Her shoulders lifted gently under my palms as I started to rub. “I uh … I have brown hair, gray eyes, I’m about—”

  “Gray eyes?”

  “Yes….”

  “That’s unusual.” I could number on one hand the people I’d met with gray eyes.

  “I guess. They’re not spooky though,” she said, and giggled.

  “Spooky?”

  “You know, like some are close to white. Mine are more a … medium gray.”

  “Dark hair, gray eyes. Gotcha.” I now had an image in my head. Though probably way off from the real person, I could at least visualize something when talking to her.

  I turned my hands, pressing my thumbs against her trapezius muscles. Aunt Jody had shown me how to apply pressure—not too much or too long—just enough to loosen the muscles. Just enough, apparently, to have Brenna arching her back and letting out a soft moan.

  “Shh.” I chuckled. “You want Ben to think there’s a real ghost up here?”

  “Oops, sorry.” She arched again. “That feels … amazing.”

  “Now that you mention ghosts….”

  “You mentioned ghosts, not me.”

  “Right. So … what happened with Tracy?”

  Her spine stiffened. “What do you mean?”

  She was still tense and nervous, so I wanted to keep her talking as I rubbed. “She went off about ghosts chasing her out of the house,” I said, trying not to crack up.

  “Oh? Was she here?”

  “Yup. Said there were doors slamming, water turning on and off….”

  “Probably the wind.”

  “Brenna….”

  She swept aside her attempt at nonchalance and twisted to look back at me, nerves forgotten in her irritation. “She’s a horrible person, do you know that? I mean, I don’t like to automatically judge someone—”

  “No, I know, believe me,” I interrupted. “That’s one reason I’m not with her anymore.”

  “Can’t believe you were. She’s—” This time she cut herself off. “I’m sorry. She was obviously special to you at one time.”

  “No, she wasn’t. I’m afraid that says more about me than her.”

  Brenna turned back around with a sigh, leaning slightly into my palms. I returned to pressing my thumbs in, moving in slow, small circles.

  She was much less tense now, maybe from the massage, or maybe she’d released the pent-up emotion through her mini Tracy rant. Interesting. When I talked about her, it had the opposite effect.

  Speaking of effects, touching Brenna this way was beginning to feel … intimate, though I didn’t let my hands slip any lower than her upper back. Maybe due to the tiny accompanying sounds in the back of her throat, or the fact that she even trusted me to do this. I gave her one final squeeze and sat back. The last thing I wanted was to lead her on in any way.

  “I feel so much better, thank you,” she whispered. “Your aunt taught you that?”

  “She’s one of those holistic weirdos.” I said, quietly. “Has the right remedy for everything, but people gossip behind her back, call her weird and whatnot. Sweetest woman God put on this earth and the first one folks look for when they have an ailment and don’t want to go to a real doctor. Still, they talk.”

  “People can be that way.”

  Something in her tone told me she was familiar with the harsh lash of a tongue and I wondered if she’d share it with me one day. The storm had moved into the distance, leaving behind only faint echoes and the slap of raindrops on the roof, but I didn’t want her to go. Why be alone in separate rooms when we could be alone together for a while?

  “Storm passed,” I said, finally.

  “Yes.” She was infinitely calmer than she had been only minutes ago.

  “Hey, would….”

  “What?”

  “Would you stay and talk for a bit?”

  “All right,” she answered quickly.

  I smiled, drawing my legs up on the bed, moving to the side, giving her plenty of room should she want to join me. The edge of the bed dipped as she sat.

  “It’s not all the time I have a chance to talk to a ghost. I’m intrigued.”

  “And what would you ask a ghost?”

  “Hmm. I guess I’d ask about your family first. Family says a lot about a person, living or dead, don’t you think?”

  “No.”

  Her answer was sharp and took me aback for a second. I might do well, too, to remember I was in a closed room with a person who may still be a psychopath.

  “Okay, then, no family talk.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I shook my head. “I’m not going to pressure you. We’ll talk about whatever you want.”

  “It’s just that my—”

  “No, no pressure,” I said, though she had roused my curiosity. It was the second time she avoided speaking of family. None of my business, though.

  She didn’t return to the topic. Instead, we talked about her present job—turned out she worked in the only dry cleaner in town—and her past employment as a camp counselor at Miller’s Lake, a few years back.

  When we got to my job…. I don’t know, it hit me dead center of my chest, what I can only describe as despair. Horses were all I knew. Without that, I honestly had no idea what would become of me. Becoming someone’s burden was not for me.

  I tried not to let my fear seep out in my voice, but at one point she slipped her hand into mine, brought it to her lips, and pressed her cheek against it. The comfort I drew from that simple gesture was like nothing I’d ever felt, and I found myself questioning whether this could be one of those encounters with angels I’d heard people sometimes had. Not likely.

  “You are going to see again, Josiah. In Jesus’ name. You will.”

  There were times I believed it. Mostly. More so when she said it.

  “I did. Before I passed out and you called 911.” She released my hand and I nodded.

  “What?” Her voice had gone high with excitement before catching herself. “How?” she whispered.

  “I don’t know how. I went to sleep and when I opened my eyes, I saw everything.”

  “That’s amazing. Right…?”

  I guess the reality of the situation had just become clear to her. Was it really a good sign that I’d had sight, or a bad sign that I’d lost it again? Maybe that was why I was tentative about going to sleep. What if it didn’t happen again and I woke to darkness?

  “I wish I’d seen you,” I said.

  “There’s not much to see.”

  “I couldn’t disagree more. You’re a beautiful person, Brenna.”

  Self-consciousness hit us both at the same time. I never said things like that. I wasn’t that kind of person, at all. Inner beauty was something to be noted and appreciated, not spoken of. It was just…awkward.

  “Well, thanks,” she said after a pause.

  Her tone was dubious, which made me wonder if people often sweet talked her based on her being a good person—which probably meant she wasn’t very pretty—or if no one had said anything like that to her before. Or maybe the most obvious, they told her all the time because she really was beautiful.

  “You don’t believe me?” I asked.

  “I don’t think not taking advantage o
f someone makes a person special. People aren’t supposed to do that. I’m just doing what humans do.”

  “You haven’t come across some of the same humans I have.”

  “Like Tracy?” She paused again. “I’m sorry, she’s none of my business.”

  I laughed. “No, you’re right,” I said. “And other people. I’ve met a lot of bad people in my day. If you were that kind of human being and a blind guy wandered in, I might be dead now.”

  She moved beside me, but I couldn’t tell if she was shaking her head or just fidgeting.

  “I’m not going to murder you in your sleep,” she said.

  The warm sound of her giggle sank deep inside, relaxing me. I lay back on the bed on my side and closed my eyes. No sense keeping them open.

  “Want to tell me what happened with Tracy?”

  CHAPTER 15

  “Kash.”

  I heard the knock, then Ben swung the door open.

  I knew because I saw it. Saw him.

  I almost popped up like a cork, but feared any sudden movement might make my vision blink out again like a loose bulb.

  “I can see.”

  “Oh my God, really? You—you see me?” He waved his arms in circles, then back and forth.

  “Why would I lie?”

  “Yeah, that would be pretty messed up.” Ben leaned over me on the bed to stare intently in my eyes, as if he could see my lenses flicker to life. “Man, that’s awesome! Thank God.”

  Right! I slid to the edge of the bed, rising slowly, turning my head side to side, taking everything in. My head didn’t hurt like the other night before I’d passed out. I felt good. Solid. Even though part of me didn’t want to blink and risk ending up in darkness again, I closed my eyes tightly, trusting things to still be there when I opened them.

  They were. Ben grinning ear to ear, the old bed—that seeing now I promised myself I’d never sleep on again—grime-smeared windows with ratty curtains hanging off to one side, the bare floor layered with dust and debris. Pretty much the way I’d imagined.

  I’d wondered how I would react if this time came. I’m not the hoot ‘n holler kind of Christian other people seemed to identify with, but my thanks are deep and real as anybody’s and I’d tell Him so audibly later when we were alone. Right now, I thanked God in my mind, my hands trembling with emotion, shaking my head slowly and pushing back tears.

  The one thing missing was Brenna. We’d talked for hours, long into the night, and she’d been here when I fell asleep, but she had work today. She’d be ecstatic when I told her.

  “I wasn’t sure this day would come,” I told Ben.

  “I know.”

  “And you were positive?”

  “I was praying, Kash, believe me, I was praying.” He grabbed me in a bear-hug, then slapped my back and stepped away. “This is incredible. Wow!” He stood there looking at me for a few more seconds until his grin started to falter. “Hey, I hate to taint this amazing news with nonsense, but Tory called a few minutes ago, that’s why I came up.”

  The grin was completely gone now and I had a bad feeling in my gut. “What’s up?”

  “She said some of the men had a meeting at the ranch last night.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, a few of them wondering how secure their jobs are with you laid up, and if they should maybe start looking for employment elsewhere.”

  I knew it would happen sooner or later. I was hoping I’d have my sight back before it did. “I have to go talk to them.”

  “That’s what I was thinking.”

  I wasn’t looking forward to talking to them. Just knowing I’d be standing in a room with some of the people who were thinking of cutting and running after less than two weeks. I hung my head and took a breath. I’d been given a second chance and I sure wasn’t going to spend my first few minutes of thankfulness loading up resentments.

  Though I wouldn’t trade places with them. Deserting a blind man was one thing. Looking a sighted man in the eyes while they did it was something else. I knew which ones planned to go, which would have stayed on. If I was still blind, I would have talked to them just the same. I’d have shown them I was determined to do what needed doing to keep operations running smoothly. Starting new horses would have been out—I’d have hired someone to do that alongside Jim—but I’d have polished saddles to prove my worth to my crew.

  Now I just needed to weed out the bad seed and start with some fresh blood. I held nothing against those genuinely concerned with feeding their families, and paying bills, but the disloyal hands who didn’t care where their next gambling pot came from, had to go. Men like Brew. Thank God I’d already ditched him.

  I imagined Tracy would come running back fast enough when she heard I was whole again. My only worth in her eyes was being able to fund her life, a fact confirmed during the conversation overheard by Brenna before she was scared off. It was disheartening, I had to admit, that a woman I’d spent so much time with cared so little. I mean, I had no great romantic feelings for her, but if she lost her vision, I know I would do all I could to help her.

  Though disheartened, I had to laugh at Brenna’s defense of me. That’s what it had been, a stranger defending me from someone I didn’t have sense enough to deny contact. Pretending to be a ghost, scaring the wits out of Tracy. I would have loved to see how fast her feet carried her out of here. She was sure upset. Seeing her face would have been priceless.

  “Good to see you smile again,” Ben said.

  “Yeah. Just thinking about Tracy.”

  “Since when does she make you happy?”

  “Since I’m picturing her turning white as a sheet and scrambling out of the house.”

  Ben laughed with me. “She sounded pretty convinced something was in here.” He looked around the room. “Not hard to imagine. It’s not the best place we’ve ever stayed.”

  “Not the worst either,” I said, reminded of a motel where he and I had been forced to find shelter coming back from Colorado one year. Even with a single lightbulb and something growing in the toilet, it had been appreciated when a blizzard caught us by surprise.

  “So, are you ready to leave?” he asked.

  “Sure, let me grab my jacket.”

  “I meant leave, like out of here. Completely.”

  Leave Brenna? Just like that? I hesitated. He noticed.

  “What? Don’t tell me you’re starting to think of this place as home.”

  “My brain isn’t that damaged,” I said.

  “Then what?”

  I wondered if there was a way to tell him without telling him. Nothing came to mind. I walked to the window and looked out through the filthy glass. “There’s something I should tell you….”

  “That you had a woman up here last night?”

  I spun to face him.

  “I know you think you’re real slick,” he said, shaking an index finger at me. “But you, young man, are grounded. You know the rule. No girls in your room, especially with the door closed. I’ve been racking my brain trying to figure out how you managed to hook up with someone—”

  “It’s not what you think,” I said.

  “I’m just glad she’s real.” He paused, holding a hand out. “She is real, right? Not dead? Or invisible?”

  “Dead or invisible?” Incredulous, my eyes scanned the room, returning to him a few seconds later with no better understanding of what he’d just asked. “A ghost? Are you nuts?”

  “No, but I wondered if you were.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m kidding. I heard you whispering to someone last night. At first, I thought you were praying. Then talking to yourself. I even wondered—just for a second—if the head injury opened you up to something. You know, spiritual things.”

  “You are nuts.”

  “Or you could have changed somehow.”

  “Changed?”

  “Like now you can contact other dimensions.” He laughed. “Don’t blame me. Jill had this show on the other night about the brain. Researchers
claim head trauma can trigger different parts of the brain we don’t normally use. Some people develop ESP, or can play the piano when they couldn’t before.” He waved a hand. “Anyway, just something I considered briefly … until I heard someone whisper back.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I figured you must have your reasons for keeping her secret. I’m just glad it’s not Tracy. That would be so depressing.”

  I shuddered in jest. “I’d rather be with a ghost.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me when I asked you if there was a woman?”

  “Because there isn’t,” I said. “Wasn’t … isn’t.”

  Ben tilted his head toward me, as if doing so would help him make sense of my words. “There’s a woman and you two aren’t together, or … she’s not a woman? Kash, what…? How old is she? She’s not underage—”

  “What the hell is wrong with you? Of course she’s not underage.” I was positive she was over eighteen. Positive. Hmm. How old are you? seems like one of the first things you’d ask a ghost.

  “I know, I know you’d never do anything like that.” He went to the window and peered out. “I did some poking around the other day. I found clothespins in the grass on the side of the house. New, not weathered. And the bike in the yard. Not all beat up and rusted like you’d expect if it was left here. It’s gone now. I thought I heard something outside, that’s what woke me, before the phone call, and there was someone riding just over the hill. A girl.”

  My gaze wandered to the window. She’d be at work now. I wondered if I should stop by to present myself. Or would it be best to come back later when she was here?

  “So….” Ben turned back to me, narrowing his eyes. “What Tracy encountered….”

  “Was Brenna.” An unstoppable grin spread across my face.

  Ben let out a laugh that rattled the windows. “Oh man!”

  “I know. I’d pay to see that.”

  His lips straightened once again. “But Kash, this girl…. Who is she?”

  “She came with the house.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “She was living here when I intruded.”

  He crossed his arms. “Living here? Like squatting?”

 

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