Page 23 of Shadowing My Dreams
“Wanna drink? I just want to go back downstairs.” I glanced nervously around the room in case he decided to start throwing things again.
“A drink sounds great. Do you have a bourbon?” He wheezed.
“I have an unopened bottle.” I held out my hand and immediately pulled it back. He looked so weak, and I couldn’t do anything to help. If we touched again… “Sorry.”
“Not a very good idea, apparently. Let’s go downstairs. I can feel his presence, and he’s quite annoyed. Honestly, this is the most I’ve ever felt from him. But he’s still hard to see.” He brushed past me, and for a second, the color faded from the room. “Sorry.”
“Are you going to be ok?”
“Just weak, Jack. Bourbon, please.”
I turned and walked back onto the hallway, and as soon as I was through the door – it slammed hard. I almost jumped out of my skin.
“He has a real attitude.” Archie placed a hand against the wall and steadied himself.
“He called us Mary’s. He has to be gay, right?” I laughed. “I have a catty gay ghost.”
“Oh, I think we can say yes to that. He’s the cattiest ghost I’ve ever met. What a fucking attitude.”
“Do you always get sick?” I asked as we walked down the stairs. I had to stop myself from helping him. I really wanted to. It was like he was the sun and I was being pulled into his gravitational field.
“No. I usually don’t. There’s… something about him that he’s holding onto. He was very sick in life, and it… permeates my senses. Whatever was happening to me is how he felt, I think. Maybe it was chemo? That makes people sick, right?” Archie took a slow, deep breath.
“Yeah. But what happened to you seemed pretty violent. You got that from him?”
He nodded and walked down the last stair, holding tightly to the railing. “It was not pleasant. I tried to hold it back as long as I could. I would’ve had to break the connection myself, or I was going to ruin your rug, and I do not want to puke in front of you.”
“Who’s Drew?” I joined him at the bottom and watched him wobble a little. I reached out and placed my hand on his lower back to steady him before I could think better of it. Nothing happened. It had to be skin-to-skin. That was good to know. “That’s what he said, right? Drew?” Now I knew how to touch him without going into that sepia-toned bullshit world.
Archie pulled a small tape recorder from his pocket and walked over to sit on the couch. “I should have it all here if we’re lucky.” He rewound the very out-of-date recorder, and I could hear the ghostly whisper.
“Oooh… touch her. She’s a homeowner.” His voice sounded small compared to how it had sounded in the room earlier. Iwent over and sat down a few inches from him to hear better. It was barely a whisper.
“Why haven’t you moved on? Why are you staying here?” Archie’s voice was unmistakably clear and loud.
“It keeps me out of the sun. I’d hate to have to haunt a graveyard. I’m afraid it’d make me look fat. Get the FUCK OUT! I just want to be left alone!” The sound of his voice on the machine made me shiver. It was too fucking eerie. It was exactly how you would expect a ghost to sound on a tape recorder. I had watched a few of those ghost hunter shows and always hated that part.
“You’re not staying out of the way, are you? You pulled a chest of drawers out and threw things around this room. Being left alone goes both ways.” Archie sounded so butch.
“God, the drama. She’s so serious. I had a bad day. Sue me. Where’s Drew? GET OUT! I JUST WANT TO BE LEFT ALONE! WHY CAN'T YOU LEAVE ME ALONE! GET OUT!” Archie stopped the playback.
“Well, we got it. I’m sure he said, Drew.” He nodded.
“Why does he sound that way?” I was totally confused.
“We were in the in-between with him. There he was clear, but his reality is only ghostly whispers.”
“And thedoor slams. That was concerning. I almost pissed myself.” I chuckled.
“He’s pissed. Maybe you should stay with Daveed tonight.” He sounded like he was worried about me.
“Oh, I am not staying here – I don’t think. Daveed’s at a conference in San Fransisco, so I could stay there.” I shrugged. “I mean, it is my house, though. Do I just leave that easily?”
“You don’t have to try to act strong, Jack. He was wearing a polo with an alligator on it. Did you see that?”
“No. I tried hard not to look at him,” I frowned. “Sorry, I was scared as soon as I saw him. I could only glance. I amnotas brave as you.”
“It’s ok. But I think he must have died in the eighties. He seems to be waiting patiently for all these years. I guess he was peaceful until you came back from the hospital. Your newfound energy imbued him enough for him to start interacting. How long has he been here waiting? I felt so much anger, but it was directed inside, and it felt as if it were at himself. It was strange.”
