Page 44 of Unruly
Chapter 12
Borja
After following the directions to the address Katie gave us at the library, we arrive in front of a stately white colonial-style home. Even though we’re in a perfectly normal suburban neighborhood, there’s something ominous about the house. I look at Farnsworth to see if he’s feeling anything, but his expression is neutral, so I guess not.
“Let me do the talking,” he says, gesturing for me to follow him up the brick walkway leading to the door.
“Yeah, of course. Are you gonna tell them why we’re here?”
“Yes. Katie’s message said they’re aware of the problem, so that should get us in.”
“Gotcha.”
“Pay attention, Borja. This will be a common task of yours as a Chaser.”
“I will.”
We reach the door and Farnsworth rings the bell. A minute passes, and just as he goes to ring it again, the door opens to reveal a teenage boy with thick, curly hair and the biggest hazel eyes I’ve ever seen.
“Yeah,” he says in greeting.
“Hello,” Farnsworth says. “Are your parents home?”
“They hate people selling stuff.” He starts to shut the door, but Farnsworth puts his hand out.
“We’re not selling anything. We heard there’s a problem here. We came to help.”
The kid narrows his eyes for a second before sucking in a breath. “You know?”
“Yes. It’s my job to know. May we come in?”
“Fuck yeah.” He turns away, yelling, “Ma! Come here!”
A frazzled looking woman hurries around the corner, her eyes set on her son. “What’s the matt—oh. Hello.”
“Hello. My name is Farnsworth, and this is my colleague, Borja.”
“Catherine. My son, Anthony. How can I help you?”
“We’re here to help you, actually. I received a message earlier that you have a problematic object in your possession.”
Catherine’s eyes widen. “A message? How?”
“It’s part of my abilities. So, it’s true?”
She nods, glancing over her shoulder while her son clings to the banister. “It’s true. I’ll show it to you.”
We follow her down the narrow hall to a room with floor-to-ceiling shelving. The shelves are empty, and all the books and objects that should be on them are on the floor. In the center of the room is a wooden desk that looks antique, and on it is a small blue box.
Catherine gestures to the box, but keeps an obvious distance. “I found it in the attic,” she says. “It came with a note explaining that using it would allow access to the spirit world and we could talk to anyone who has crossed over.” She turns her gaze to me and Farnsworth. “My husband died three months ago. We miss him terribly and thought… maybe…” She shrugs as her words trail off.
“Where are the instructions?” Farnsworth asks.
“Under the box.” Farnsworth walks towards it but Catherine stops him. “There’s more.”
“Go on.”
“Once we opened the box, we immediately knew something was wrong.”
