Shadowing My Dreams (Haunted Hearts)

Chapter 9

9

Jack

“ I t’s been two days, Jack,” Archie started as soon as I let him in the door. “I’m not saying that he won’t call, but I think we need to move forward.”

“What does that mean,” I swallowed, knowing what it was he was about to suggest.

“You know what we have to do. When I go in there alone, the veil is too thick. I don’t understand it if I’m being honest, but together we broke through. Maybe we could again?”

I froze even thinking about it. “I’m not sure that’s something I want to do, Arch.”

“Arch?” He cocked his eyebrow at me.

“It’s…” I grinned. I had been telling Daveed everything and had started calling him that. He was easy to believe in and like – I liked him. I was dealing with what that meant.

“I’ll accept it.” He smiled and walked closer to me. God, he smelled like lavender. It was intoxicating. I wanted to grab him and sniff his neck.

“I’m scared to do that. I’ve been sleeping on my couch.” I pointed to my pillow and blanket, all balled up in the corner.

“If we do this, it might mean you can start sleeping in your bedroom much sooner. It was always going to come down to this. I think that you might be the catalyst, Jack. Your brush with death and the energy that has seeped into this place from you helps me to see. This spirit doesn’t want to be bothered, and he’s cloaked himself somehow. But your energies intermingled somehow over the years. You’re the key. Do you see?” He sounded exasperated.

“Cloaked? That sounds like a sci-fi movie. Is this Star War…”

“I know. But it’s all I’m coming up with.” He threw himself down on the arm of the couch.

“It seemed to hurt you last time.”

He looked at me with a look of surprise. Did he really think so little of me? “It… wasn’t pleasant. Whoever that person was – his misery and pain are like an anathema to me.”

“An… whatta?” I chuckled.

“It’s like kryptonite if I were Superman.”

“I think you’re much more Lois Lane. I’m…”

“Sure, muscle boy, you can be Superman. But can we try this, Jack? Please?”

“I do like it when you beg.” I ran my hands through my hair as I thought about it. Touching him again would be nice – but it came with a pretty shitty side effect of seeing ghosts. But he had gotten to me more than I cared to admit. I knew that Daveed was paying for this, and I appreciated it because I was fucking tapped out at the moment. Hopefully, none of my pipes broke during this exorcism or whatever it was because I could not afford that shit.

But Archie was here, and he was really trying to help me. It felt like he cared. It was nice to feel that feeling from someone. I had denied it for too long.

“Fine. But if I can’t… If I try to let go, break contact, ok? I need to know that I can get out if I need to.” I sounded like a coward. I was fucking terrified to go back up there – to touch him – to see that again.

“Agreed. I would never…”

“I didn’t mean that you… I’m scared, Archie. All of this just freaks me out. I don’t want it, and I can’t wait for you to help take it away if you can.”

“I understand, Jack,” he mumbled, looking down at the ground. “But it’s the only way.”

“I said fine. Let’s do it before I fucking chicken out.” I slapped my chest like I used to do when I was pumping myself up for a big game.

“When this is over, I’ll try to close your path to the in-between if I can. I promise.”

“Lead the way, ghost boy.” His face fell, and I instantly regretted calling him that. I didn’t want to hurt him, not unless he wanted me to. But he spoke to dead people, and man… that was a hard thing to get over. I was super attracted to him – admittedly – but how do you get past something like that? It was terrifying.

I followed him up my stairs and into the bedroom. I hesitated as I got to the doorway and slowly stepped through as if something could happen at any moment. It had been quiet, and I hadn’t had any poltergeist activity or disembodied voices. I had only seen shadows, and that hadn’t been very often. It was almost easy to forget about if I hadn’t been living in fear the entire time.

“What should we do?” I stood there trying not to shake.

“Let’s sit on the bed.”

“I knew you were going to try to get me naked sooner or later.” I couldn’t help myself. Jokes were my go-to when I got nervous and I was freaking out.

“Not the time for jokes.”

“I’d say communicating with the dead was a perfect time. Do we keep our clothes on?”

“Are you going to be serious?” He looked at me, and I felt like he just slapped me.

“Yes, sorry. When I get nervous, I… make jokes. I’m done.” I sat down slowly on the bed and placed my hands on my knees.

“It’s ok. I know you’re scared. You’re not an idiot. Now, I’m going to sit beside you and keep my hands on my lap. When you’re ready, Jack, I want you to reach over and take my hand. That way, you’re in complete control. Ok?” He sounded so calm, as if he did this every day.

“Sounds… horrible, but yes. Thank you.”

He sat down beside me so close our legs were just a breadth away from each other. “I need you to be ok with this. All of the control is yours. Just give me a second to… I’ll nod when I’m ready. Ok?”

“Got it.”

He shut his eyes, and for the first time, I wished that I could do what he did. If I could read his energy, maybe I would know more or understand him better. I’m sure his energy was as beautiful as he was. I waited and glanced around the room that I knew like the back of my hand – which was a very odd saying if you asked me.

He sighed heavily, and his head nodded. I raised my hand and held it above his. It was now or… well, he was right. It was always going to come to this somehow, wasn’t it? I took a deep breath and steadied my nerves as best I could. My heart was fucking racing.

I placed my hand on his and let our fingers intertwine while my palm rested on the top of his hand.

Nothing happened.

“I don’t…” Holy fuck.

The room melted like we were being pulled through a wormhole, and I almost let go of Archie, but I didn’t. Instead, I gripped his hand harder. I could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat as the room came back into a sepia filter. I always hated those Insta filters.

The man appeared in a small chair by the window, and he didn’t look happy. “You have to be fucking kidding me. Why have the Marys come back? I told them to leave.”

“Hello,” Archie managed through gritted teeth. “We’re here to try to help you.”

“Did I call nine-one-one? I don’t think so.” He turned away from us and looked out of the window.

“Who are you?”

He turned back to us quickly. “Who the fuck are you? You’re the one who barged into my fucking death .”

“I live here,” I whispered. “This is my home.”

“Hmm… Is it? Why does that matter? Why do I care who pays the rent.” He laughed, and it sounded so sad and pathetic.

“I own it.”

“Oooh… touch her. She’s a homeowner.” He was so mean. He was so gay that flamboyant wasn’t enough of a description. Figures I had a gay ghost in WeHo.

“Why haven’t you moved on? Why are you staying here?” Archie sounded breathless, as if even forming words was hard for him.

“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!” he roared and stood up slowly from his chair. “I just want to be left alone!”

“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 raised his voice.

“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 FUCKING LEAVE ME ALONE!” He rose from the ground and floated towards us. “GET OUT!”

My hand flew from Archie’s, and the room shifted slowly back into view as the spirit faded into ether. Archie immediately ran from the room, leaving me alone. A cold chill crept up my spine, and I booked it into the hallway. I could hear him retching from the bathroom over and over again. I felt like such a coward. This was my fucking house, wasn’t it?

I stepped back into the room and passed through a cold spot that almost made my teeth chatter. “We’re leaving, ok? I'm just waiting for…”

“Sorry, I…” Archie opened the bathroom door. “I feel pretty fucking horrible. My stomach is in my throat.”

“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. I went 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 am not as 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.”

“Oh, a drink! You wanna get out of here? Maybe go have a drink and some dinner anywhere else but here?” I practically begged.

“Dinner? You sure you want to do that?” He looked at me so seriously that I understood what he meant.

I nodded. “Well, I know it’s a little like a date, but… yeah. I do.”

“Is that a good idea?”

“I mean, I’m starting to run out of reasons not to. How about you? Every time I touch your hand, I… Yes, I think I do.” I swallowed the truth and stood there, hoping I wasn’t a complete idiot.

“You are totally annoying.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Pretty people always expect to get their way.”

“You think I‘m pretty? I prefer handsome. I’m very masculine.” I raised my arm and popped my bicep. It usually worked.

“That you are. But see that right there is what I’m…” His shoulders slumped, and he turned to look at me. “Sure. I’d be happy to get out of here and have dinner with you.”

“God, you intrigue the shit out of me. It’s like you got inside my head somehow. There’s so much I want to know about you.” I slowly placed my hand on his leg over the fabric of his pants. Nothing happened. My idea was right.

“We are working together.”

“We don’t have an HR department, sorry.”

“Smartass.”

“Besides, I hope that this isn’t some kind of forever thing. I mean, the working together part.”

“Shit.”

“What?”

“Maybe I'm running out of reasons too.”