《The Blue Room》


 Chapter 1

    The keys felt heavier in my hand today than they had ever felt before. I had held them so many times, but never under circumstances like these. Before, it was always a joyous occasion - because of the distance, I didn¡¯t get the chance to see my grandfather very often. Mostly I saw him around the holidays, and I grew up in a ¡°do the holiday right¡± sort of family, so there were always lights, music, dancing, presents, and more food than any one family could ever eat on any given night. Today, though, it felt dark and cold, as though it were warning me that I shouldn¡¯t enter. But, I reminded myself, this is what I wanted. This was my inheritance, and when I was given the option to sell the house or keep it, I opted to keep it in the family. It¡¯d been with me for as long as I could remember, so the image of some other family in it just felt too peculiar.


    I steeled my nerves and opened the large front door. Despite my reservations, the inside was dark, but still felt like my second home. Grandpa had always had a huge house. He¡¯d bought it when he was newly married in the hopes that he and Grandma would have lots of kids. He did manage to accomplish that, and the house was always busy with aunts, uncles, and cousins of mine. That¡¯s why, when the will was read, I think we were all surprised that I was the sole heir to the house. Yes, I was the closest with him, but in this market, selling a house this huge would have been quite a windfall, even split between all of us. But no, the others got various trinkets, and I got the house.


    Why do I sound like I¡¯m complaining about this? I¡¯m not, trust me. It just feels weird that, with all the years of family being around this house, I¡¯m now the one in charge of it.


    Some work was needed on it, of course - what house didn¡¯t need some work when you first get it? And add onto that, while my grandfather was pretty active right up until his death, he was still in his 80s. At that age, you can keep it clean, but you¡¯re probably not going to do a lot of replacing carpets or restaining the deck. At that age, I would have to assume that while you want your living space to look nice, you might have to choose between that and something that is more meaningful with your time.


    I¡¯m definitely stalling. I understand that. But there¡¯s something about signing the papers to make the house mine that means this whole thing has come to an end. The funeral is done, the urn is with my aunt since she desperately wanted to keep it, and I get to renovate this house and make it my own.


    ¡°Mr. Marshall?¡± called a voice from the parlor.


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m on my way,¡± I yelled back. I fumbled with the keys in my hands again. I¡¯ve just got to sign these papers and then I¡¯ll be on my way towards a new normal, I said to myself. Then I stepped down the hall towards my new life.


    _____________


    ¡°So Brian, have you lived in the area for long?¡± the lawyer asked me as I was signing what felt like my millionth piece of paper. I knew there was going to be a lot of paperwork involved, but I was still surprised when I saw a stack of papers two inches thick.


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    ¡°Yeah, I grew up in the area. My parents lived probably twenty minutes away from here, and I now live probably 30.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s great! I¡¯m sure you got to spend a lot of time here as a child.¡±


    ¡°Quite a bit, yeah. I basically grew up with this as my second home. It¡¯ll be nice to be back in it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure it will! Now, I¡¯ve just got one last page for your to sign, which is just the surveyor¡¯s notes, and then I¡¯ll be on my way, and you can get to enjoying your new house.¡±


    My hand hovered over the signature line for a minute, not because I had a problem with the surveyor¡¯s notes, but because the last signature was the largest step. This would all be real, the house would be mine, and I would have to deal with all of it. Part of me still felt like a young kid who was in no way ready for the kind of commitment that this house was going to take. The other part, though - the adult part of me - put the pen to the paper, and officially added my name to the list of people who had owned the house. It was over, it was done, and it was mine.


    ¡ª-----------


    Anyway, that was a few weeks ago, and while I still feel weird to call this house mine, I¡¯ve gotten more used to it. I¡¯m having this fun in between the process of trying to fix up the house, but also trying to move in, because if I own a house, it feels foolish to also be paying rent elsewhere. And my idea is, if I fix it up enough, I can rent out some of the far away rooms, because I definitely don¡¯t need this much space to myself. The first day I got this house, I went through and counted all the rooms - it has your standard kitchen, dining room, and living room, but there are a total of 6 bathrooms and 12 rooms that could be considered bedrooms (although they¡¯d have to be cleaned out, because for the most part, right now they are storage, offices, guest rooms, and what could generously be called a gym).


    The largest room by far was the master bedroom, which had both a huge closet and its own on suite bathroom. That was the room that my grandfather had used as his room, and I was planning to claim it as mine, since the room is easily twice as large as any of the others. It was closer in size to the living room, in all honesty, and had been outfitted as such, with a loveseat, a couple of chairs, and a coffee table over in the corner of the room. I had never gotten the chance to ask my grandfather why he had such an elaborate seating area in his bedroom, and for that I am grateful. The look of it was nice, though - while I didn¡¯t plan on doing a lot of sitting in there, the couch might be a nice place for my yellow lab, Duke, to sleep on. I know my grandfather probably would have hated that, but hey, this was my house now, and a good dog needs a good place to sleep.


    ¡°Duke, come here!¡± I yelled to him, as I hauled up what seemed to be my thousandth box, which luckily was also one of my last - sure, I probably still had some odds and ends at the old apartments that I would have to grab when I went to clean up, but a vast majority of it was finally there. Duke came bounding up the stairs after me, carrying a stuffed football toy in his mouth. His excitement at having more than a one bedroom apartment to run around in was clearly visible as he bounded up the stairs past me, then back down, continuing in the hyper pattern the entire time I walked up the stairs. Currently, the yard didn¡¯t have a fence on it, but it was one of the first things that I was planning to fix when I officially moved in. And there definitely were a lot of things that I was planning to fix around here - I had never been much of a handyman in my past apartments, but that was in part because I was leasing. It was also in part because I had no idea what I was doing, and that was definitely not something that was going to immediately change here, but a man can dream. I come from a long line of men who were able to at least possibly fix parts of their house, and I am fortunate enough to have what a lot of them didn¡¯t - all the powers of the internet behind me. You can learn anything on YouTube, and I intended on proving that, starting one fence at a time.


    Duke finally decided that he wanted to be upstairs and ran into the master bedroom, leaping directly onto my bed. ¡°Hey now,¡± I scolded lightly, ¡°you know you¡¯re not supposed to be on the bed.¡± Duke wagged his tail and looked at me with those puppy dog eyes that assured me that, yes, he did in fact know that, but was hoping that I would let him get away with it just this one. And he was right - what with all the moving, I was exhausted. I collapsed down on the bed, laying next to Duke, who happily cuddled up next to me, and started to fall asleep. There were still so many things that I needed to finish on my to-do list - I hadn¡¯t even gotten a chance to clean anything, much less start unpacking, but it was all things that would have to wait until tomorrow. The rest of the day was going to be devoted to sleep and sleep alone.

 Chapter 2

    Thunk.


    I awoke with a start. The room was dark and freezing- I had been so tired that I hadn¡¯t even thought to close the window I had opened earlier, and the chill of the night had crept in. I staggered to my feet, eyes still blurry with sleep and stumbled to the window. It creaked when I closed it, as though it were protesting the movement. A lot of the windows in here didn¡¯t seem to have been moved in years, and all of the rooms seemed stuffy, as though they¡¯d been closed off from the world for too long. I supposed that made sense - it¡¯s not as though at this point, my grandfather had had a lot of visitors, what with my grandmother having passed many years ago, and all of the children now out of the house.  We would stop by to visit once in a while, but we never stayed the night since we lived so close.  I assume some of my other family would have stayed in the guest rooms when they came to visit, but who thinks to open a window when you¡¯re staying at another person¡¯s house?


    I turned around to head back to bed, and immediately bumped into Duke. He yelped slightly. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, buddy! I didn¡¯t mean to bump into you!  You must have been cold too, huh?¡±  I reached down to sooth him as an apology for bumping into him. I felt his fur first, though- the soft bristles on his back were standing up on end.


    ¡°Duke?¡± I said worryingly. ¡°What is it, boy? You smell something you don¡¯t like? Maybe there¡¯s a skunk outside. You¡¯re not used to this out of town lifestyle yet.¡± I pet down his back, trying to smooth down his fur in a soothing motion, but the moment I touched him, I started to let loose a low, rumbling growl. I removed my hand quickly, in case he thought the touch was from someone else who would have been a threat, but the noise continued.


    Slowly, I shifted my eyes upward, both curious about what Duke was seeing and nervous about what the result might be. My eyes had trouble focusing in the pitch black night - a reminder to myself to install a light on my new nightstand so that this sort of thing wouldn¡¯t happen anymore. I saw the silhouette of the loveseat and chairs, all of the boxes that I had been bringing in the day before, the clothes from yesterday hanging from a hook by the closet. The closet door was ajar, which was not a typical thing for me, but I had been so tired when I went to sleep that I wouldn¡¯t put anything past me. Aside from that, nothing seemed too abnormal. ¡°Calm down, buddy,¡± I whispered to Duke, reaching back down to rub his ears in the hopes of distracting him. ¡°I get it, there¡¯s been a lot of changes, but there¡¯s nothing here. You¡¯re just not used to this place, is all.¡± Duke didn¡¯t react to my touch, and instead just took a few steps toward the door.  His tail ran into me, as it stood straight up in the air.


    ¡°Look, if it¡¯ll make you feel better, I¡¯ll turn on the light, and you can see that there¡¯s nothing here.¡± I patted his head, then fumbled my way across the room to the light switch. I clicked it on, and averted my eyes from the bright light as I watched the shadows skitter away. Through narrow eyes, I looked around the room. ¡°See? Absolutely nothing here.¡±  Duke turned his face toward me for a half second, then immediately turned back toward the door.  I sighed  and walked back to him. ¡°It¡¯s okay, buddy, I get it, it¡¯s a lot. You¡¯ve only slept at the apartment since you were a pup, and now there¡¯s this big scary place. It¡¯s a lot for a dog to handle!¡± Duke ignored me.


    Thunk.


    There was that noise again - the same one that had woken me up earlier. I barely remembered it in the haze of sleep. But it did not sound like it was coming from my room. It sounded more like it was coming from downstairs. The instant that he heard it, Duke started to growl louder.


    ¡°Alright, have it your way,¡± I said to him, trying to make myself feel braver and failing miserably. I was sure it was nothing - we were far enough out of the city that the likelihood of someone trying to break in was slim to none, and there was even a smaller chance that it would happen on my first night here. But still, I could feel a pit forming in my stomach - in an apartment, if you hear a noise, you just assume it¡¯s one of the neighbors and go back to sleep. It¡¯s a lot harder to do that when you¡¯re by yourself on a large property. ¡°We¡¯ll go take a look. I¡¯m sure it¡¯s just the house settling.¡±


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    I grabbed my phone out of my pocket and checked the battery - still at 10%, so while it wouldn¡¯t be great for the long run, I could still use it as a flashlight to find the light switches in all of the rooms. It would have taken even longer without it, and I was still expecting it to take forever regardless, just based on how many rooms there were in this house. I was half hopefully that, as soon as he saw I was going to leave the room, he would run to the noise so that it would be easier to find. But no, I got the cowardly dog who wanted to hide behind my legs in case something was out there.


    I moved from room to room upstairs, flicking on light switches and quickly scanning the rooms. Everything seemed calm in the night - a few more of the rooms had their closet doors ajar, but frankly I couldn¡¯t remember if they¡¯d been open before or not. The past few weeks had been such a blur that I probably wouldn¡¯t have remembered if I had opened them all myself. Plus, I¡¯d had a couple of buddies over to help me move some of the heavier things, and they had of course wanted to take a grand tour, so it¡¯s possible one of them was just scoping them out. Fine with me - they are the sort of people I would want to have moving in with me once I finish renovations anyway.


    I moved to the large staircase, content that I had searched in all of the rooms. The staircase always seemed so imposing to me - yes, the house was large, but most of the rooms and the exterior of the house were fairly plain. The rooms were almost exclusively painted gray, save for my new room, which my grandfather had painted a dull blue color. The outside of the house was white with some brick accents. All in all, nothing too special. The staircase, however, looked like a grand staircase you might see in an old movie. It was wooden with a carpet inlay, as though it were made for presenting the family like the VonTrapps.  Made a great backdrop for family photos, like we always used it for at Christmas, but it just fit in strangely with the rest of the house.


    I flicked on the light above the staircase. It flickered on, illuminating the staircase except for one section that remained in shadow at the bottom of the steps. It was tall and vaguely humanoid - it almost looked like someone was standing right at the bottom of the steps. I dropped my phone and fumbled to catch it, but failed, and it clattered down a couple of steps.


    Duke let out a low growl behind me again. I brought my eyes back to the shadow again and stared at it hard. Then I realized - it wasn¡¯t a person, it was just the way the shadows from the banister reacted with the light at the top of the stairs when the bottom light wasn¡¯t there to illuminate it. I chuckled lightly to myself. It was late, I was tired, and frankly, I¡¯d been exhausted the last week, what with both work and moving into the new house. I just saw a shadow and overreacted.


    Thunk.


    I jumped at the noise, this time.  Now that I was out of my room, I could hear it better - it sounded as though it was coming from the room directly to the right of the entryway where I was standing.  I walked down a couple of steps, grabbed up my phone, and hurried downstairs past the shadow that, now that I got closer to it, didn¡¯t even look that much like a human. It seemed foolish of me to have even considered that that might have been anything other than a weird casting of the light, but I had to remind myself, I was in a place where I had never before stayed the night, and it was much darker and quieter than it ever had been in the city. There is something about being farther away from the rest of humanity that just adds a creepy element to the area in general, much less when you¡¯ve got a dog that apparently reacts over nothing. Thanks, Duke.


    I turned the corner into the room next to the entry, which was my grandparents living room. Flicking on the light, I saw the room I had spent so much time in as a child. Some of the knickknacks that my grandmother had collected while she was alive were no longer in their place - some of them my grandfather had gotten rid of after her passing, and some were claimed by my relatives, trying to find something to remember the two of them by. I didn¡¯t mind those being gone, but I with they had taken the old flower-pattered couches that had probably been sitting in the room since the Regan administration. Those would have to be replaced at some point with couches that still had some of the stuffing left in the cushions.


    I scanned my eyes around the room - the sound had definitely come from in here, but I wasn¡¯t sure exactly what could be making it. Clearly, there was no one in the room, and there didn¡¯t appear to be anything that would be making noise in the middle of the night - they did have a large old clock, but it had been broken for as long as I could remember. Plus, clocks don¡¯t typically sound like they¡¯re hitting something when they chime.


    Through sheer force of habit, I scanned my flashlight as I looked, as though that would help me find the noisy thing. I scanned over the clock, the couches, some of the old shelves in the room, and finally over the windows.  That¡¯s when I saw it.  The big suspenseful moment I had been dreading was the sound of the window shutter banging against the house.  I sighed in relief, and then chuckled at myself for being such a scaredy cat - there weren¡¯t many shutters left of the house, but it was definitely storming outside, and the fact that I hadn¡¯t thought of that at first was just a sign to how new to the house owning business that I was. I shook my head and headed back up to try to go back to sleep - I was still exhausted, and now that I knew what the sound was, there was no way I was going to go fix it right at the moment. Just adding it to the to do list that seemed to be growing increasingly larger as the days passed.

 Chapter 3

    One of the best parts of being born in the era of technology is that whenever I don¡¯t know how to do something, I can just look it up on the internet and find 100 ways to do it incorrectly and one way to do it right. Sorting through the methods for home improvement had become the new bane of my existence at the moment. Of course, there are the sites that are more trustworthy to go to for that sort of thing, but there are only so many subjects that a site can cover, and sometimes it was difficult to figure out the correct wording to even know what to search.


    Of course, I was leaving a lot of the more difficult projects to the professionals - the flickering lights were going to be looked at by an electrician the next day, and I wasn¡¯t entirely sure that I wanted to know how much that was going to run me. Hopefully it was just a minor electrical issue and not that my grandfather had bequeathed me a money pit. I guess if that was the case, I¡¯d just get it up to code as well as I could and then rent as many of the other rooms as possible. Maybe even do some of the AirBnB shit - I¡¯m not really much of one for the cutesy feel of them, but if it helped pay for repairs, I¡¯m sure I could throw up some flowers or something.


    Today¡¯s job was to restore the paint in the main entry - I¡¯d been looking at those same gray walls every day when I walked in, and by now, I felt the need to change it up a bit. Plus, I had no idea when the last time my grandfather had painted was. Most of the walls looked fine, but as I was going through to do the spackling, I noted what felt like thousands of different nail holes from pictures that were no longer hung on the wall, plus some obvious signs of wear and tear around the corners. Still looking pretty good for an old house, but needed a bit of a sprucing up.


    I dipped my detailed brush into the paint - I¡¯d spent all of yesterday getting the primer done in the room, and while there was a solid part of me that wanted to just say fuck it and leave it for now so I could enjoy the rest of my weekend, there was a stronger part of me that wanted to get it done now so I wouldn¡¯t have to worry about it anymore.  I ran the bristles of the brush along the edge of the wall where it met the wood of the staircase, changing the color from a dull gray to a light blue. It was definitely a drastic change for the room, but it seemed like the kind of thing that was needed.


    From behind me, I heard a small clatter as something fell to the ground on the other side of the room. By this point, I didn¡¯t even look up when I heard a noise. I¡¯m not sure exactly what it was about this house - be it the air conditioning that had been installed long after the house was originally built and therefore had to be installed wherever there was a good spot for it, orr the fact that it was just an old house in general and older houses tend to be unexplainably drafty because of the old building standards - but it seemed like there was always something around this house that was making noise. That first night, the sound of the shutters had spooked me into waking up and wandering around to find what the noise was. After the tenth time doing that sort of thing, though, I realized that that was just how this house was going to be. Older houses tend to act like they were alive, and there was always some sort of movement around them, even when I was the only one there at the time. It¡¯s a strange thing to get used to, but given enough time, anyone can get used to anything.


    I dipped my paintbrush in the paint again and heard another crash, slightly larger than before.  With a sigh, I set my paintbrush down and looked over there. From what I could tell, there didn¡¯t seem to be anything on the floor. Maybe just the house settling? That was always what my parents had told me when I had heard noises in my own house when I was a young boy. Why this one seemed to be settling a lot right now when it should have been old enough to have been plenty settled already, I have no idea, but I also didn¡¯t even really know what the term meant.  I¡¯d have to look it up at some point, I supposed.


    I turned back to my work and was just about to pick up the paintbrush when I heard a third crash, even louder this time. I took a step down the ladder and tried to look into the next room as best as I could. ¡°Duke?¡± I yelled out. ¡°That noise had better not be coming from you, buddy. Stop breaking my things, Dad is trying to work.¡±


    The yellow lab peaked his head sheepishly around the corner of the doorway on the other side of the room, which to me confirmed my suspicions that the noises had come from him. ¡°Whatever you¡¯re getting into, you¡¯d better get out of it!¡± I scolded him. The dog turned away, obviously looking guilty, and I chuckled at him.  It was hard to stay mad at him for too long.


    I turned back around just in time to see something hurdling toward my head. I tried taking a step down the ladder, but the object - one of the paint cans that I had stored on the stairs, I think? - was coming too fast. I put my arm over my head to stop some of the blow, but before I could even think much more than ¡°Oh fuck!¡±, the world went black.


    __________


    ¡°Well, who do you think this guy is, now?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen him before in my life. Usually we don¡¯t get anyone new around these parts, and we didn¡¯t have anyone call ahead. Seth is supposed to show up at some point today, but that sure as hell ain¡¯t Seth unless he¡¯s managed to stop drinking for four seconds.¡±


    ¡°For Seth? You know damn well that day¡¯s never going to come.¡±


    For some reason, my first thought was not to wonder about why there were suddenly a bunch of women in my house, but rather why Duke was being so calm when there were strangers around. In fact, I couldn¡¯t hear him at all over the voices of the women. Maybe he¡¯d been making a fuss and they¡¯d locked him in a room. He hated that - I¡¯d have to go let him out. But when I tried to open my eyes, I found it to be one of the hardest things I¡¯d ever done in my life. I finally managed to crack them open a bit, but all I could see was red.


    ¡°Oh, look at that, he¡¯s stirring now! Sir, are you alright? You seem to have had quite a nasty fall, and there¡¯s blood everywhere.  In fact, Mabel, could you be a dear and go grab a scrub brush and some water for me? We¡¯ll need to get this cleaned up before it sets into the carpet - blood stains would not be a great look for this place.¡±


    I tried sitting up - my head was pounding, and then I remembered, right, the paint can! I was going to be lucky if I didn¡¯t fracture my skull. I was halfway surprised that I managed to make it out alive. ¡°Who¡­what..?¡± I managed to stutter before my head started pounding again.  I pressed my palm to my scalp and felt the wet stickiness of blood.


    ¡°Now my, he doesn¡¯t seem to be doing too great today, does he?  Does your head hurt? Clara, could you go grab the whiskey from the kitchen that Seth left last time he was here. I¡¯m sure he drank most of it, but there should still be enough to sterilize his head, and maybe just enough to give him something to dull the pain. Now, my dear,¡± the woman said, and I felt a hand on my back, helping me sit. It was tiny, but strong. Then I felt what seemed like a cloth wiping across my face, clearing my eyes of the blood. ¡°I can¡¯t have you dying on me here. Bad for business, you understand. Where did you come from, anyway?¡±


    I reached up and took the cloth from the woman, finally wiping my eyes clear enough so that I could see clearly.  I was obviously still in my house, sitting right next to that damned huge staircase that had attempted to kill me not too long ago. But something about the house seemed different. Brighter, maybe? I couldn¡¯t quite put my finger on it, other than that some of the furniture was different. Had these women for some reason come in and moved my stuff around? Not that I would mind a group of female roommates, mind you, but it would have been nice to know them a bit first.


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    ¡°I was right here, doing some painting, and I think I knocked a paint can off and hit myself in the head,¡± I said to the woman, finally turning to meet her gaze. She was a thin, short brunette who for some reason was wearing what looked like photobooth gear - a long dark blue skirt with the type of white shirt that I had only seen in old western movies, accompanied with a large hat that even had a feather in it. The woman standing behind her, a taller blonde woman who was holding a cloth handkerchief in her hands, twisting it around in a concerned fashion, was wearing much the same sort of attire, although a black shirt to go with the white shirt. ¡°What are you guys supposed to be?¡±


    ¡°Guys?¡± the brunette said, with a distinct pinch of annoyance in her voice. ¡°We are the women of this house, and you, sir, are not supposed to be here.  Did you even sign in?¡±


    ¡°This is my house, there are no women,¡± I grumbled. ¡°And I don¡¯t need to sign in, I¡¯m the one who is supposed to be here.¡±


    ¡°Oh dear, he¡¯s so confused!¡± a third woman said, walking into the room with a mostly empty bottle of what I assumed was whiskey per the previous conversation. She was also wearing a long skirt, violet this time, and a blue shirt with a smaller blue hat to match. ¡°Do you think his head just got jostled when he fell?¡±


    ¡°I think something happened, but I don¡¯t know if he hurt his head when he fell or if he¡¯s always been this dimwitted,¡± the first lady stated, obviously annoyed.  She took the bottle from the third woman and snatched the cloth - what I now saw was another white handkerchief - out of my hands and started to dab it with the whiskey. ¡°Now, are you able to tell us who you are and how you got here, or I swear to God that instead of helping you heal your wounds, I¡¯ll add some new wounds myself.¡±


    ¡°I already told you, a paint can fell on my head. I¡¯m Brian Marshall, and this is my house.¡±


    The woman scowled and started to roughly bat the cloth against my head. The whiskey burned the instant that it touched and I flinched, but stayed put. Short of going to the doctor, I knew that disinfecting the wound was the best step. I would have preferred for it to be done with soap and water, but I¡¯d take what I can get. ¡°You must have hit your head harder than you thought,¡± she said after a few beats of silence. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen the owner in a few years myself, but you definitely aren¡¯t him. He was much younger than he was, and I¡¯ve seen some weird things happen around here, but I ain¡¯t never seen anyone age backwards.¡±


    ¡°I mean, yeah, I guess it was my grandfather¡¯s house until he died, but I own it now.¡±


    ¡°Hmm.  I guess that means we¡¯re going to have to negotiate our business contract with you then, once we get someone here to verify that. I know he wasn¡¯t here a lot, but I¡¯d still expect to see someone in a mourning gown at some point. It seems only proper to give us a heads up, so that we could have switched into our darker clothes. Not that he¡¯d want us mourning for him anyway.¡±


    ¡°And just who are you supposed to be?¡± I asked irately. I didn¡¯t know a lot of my grandfather¡¯s friends, but I had a feeling that this group of women wasn¡¯t in them, especially if they didn¡¯t see him that often. Why they chose now to show up was beyond me - I supposed that I should be thankful, so that there was someone here to help when I woke up, but right then I was more just annoyed that they had come into my house uninvited.  And, I remembered, they had clearly gone and done something with Duke, if he wasn¡¯t already here by my side. ¡°And what did you do with Duke?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Edith, of course,¡± she said, as though that was a completely obvious explanation and she thought I was just too moronic to understand it. ¡°I¡¯m the madam of this lovely group. And as for the Duke, I was under the impression that we had discontinued that horrible tradition almost a century ago. Or, at least, we left them in England.¡±


    She dabbed the cloth into what was apparently a large wound on my head, and the pain seared through my body.  I yelped and grabbed the cloth out of her hand. ¡°Sorry, I just, I got it,¡± I said, when she looked awestruck at my action. ¡°And I don¡¯t mean the Duke of England, I mean my dog. His name¡¯s Duke, and I don¡¯t see him anywhere.¡±


    ¡°You own a dog, and you let him inside? And much less inside this house?¡±


    I shrugged - I know some people still ascribed to having outside dogs, but that just seemed ridiculous to me. ¡°Of course, Duke is a good dog, and I made sure he was house trained when I was still in the apartment.¡±


    ¡°Nevertheless, I¡¯d much prefer him not being in this building.¡± I shrugged again, not willing to continue the argument at that time - what she wanted and what was going to happen in my house were two very different things, and frankly whether or not dogs should be in the house was not a topic that mattered to me at that exact moment. ¡°In either case, we haven¡¯t seen him - you just appeared here, and as far as I¡¯m aware, there was no dog with you.¡±


    Shit, I thought, he must have gotten scared and hid, then. Might still be scared with the amount of people in the room. ¡°I¡¯ve got to go find him to let him know he¡¯s alright,¡± I said, starting to push myself up, but Edith pushed me right back down.


    ¡°You certainly are not going to go running up and down these halls right now. First of all, you¡¯ll hurt yourself, and second of all, it would be significantly better if we can keep all the blood contained to one area. Jo?¡± she called out, and yet another girl popped out from the next room. She looked to be about 15 years old, andalso wore the same type of clothes, but with a white shirt and light brown skirt. She was perhaps the most wispy of them all, with very light blonde hair to match. ¡°You probably need a break after your last client, don¡¯t you?¡± Jo nodded. ¡°Great.  This gentleman for some reason thinks his dog is here. Can you please go room to room to see if you can find it, and if so, bring it outside?¡±


    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± she said with a little nod and scurried out of the room. While I could hear everyone else, she was so small that I couldn¡¯t even hear her leaving.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want Duke going outside when you find him. Just bring him to me and then you can be on your way.¡±


    ¡°You seem to have a fundamental misunderstanding of who¡¯s going to be on their way,¡± Edith said with a scoff. ¡°Regardless, fine. If we find your dog, we¡¯ll have him brought to you. Now, we need to get you out of the entryway so we can get the blood cleaned up before anyone else gets here. Not a great look to have a pool of blood on the floor.¡± She gestured for me to hand her the handkerchief, and I reluctantly did so. With the deftness of someone who had done this many times before, she threw the bloodstained handkerchief over my head and quickly tied it into a knot in the back.  She tugged on it lightly to see if it would stay in place - it did - then nodded to herself in appreciation. ¡°That¡¯ll do for now, I suppose. You¡¯re most likely going to get blood in whoever''s bedroom you go to, so it¡¯d better be someone who is out of commission today. Can¡¯t have you losing me money, after all, or else we¡¯ll have to charge you as if we¡¯re doctors, and lord knows that¡¯s not cheap.¡±


    ¡°Jo¡¯s not working, you said,¡± Clara reminded her.


    She thought for a second and then shook her head. ¡°She¡¯s not working, but the poor girl needs a break before she comes down with consumption.¡±


    ¡°I can take him,¡± said the voice that I now recognized was Mabel, returning to the room with a large metal bucket for soapy water and what looked like an antique styled scrub brush. In my mind¡¯s eye, I had pictured her looking much like Clara, but in reality, she was a very short brunette woman with an exaggerated hourglass shape. I couldn¡¯t help my eyes quickly wandering over her exaggerated chest. She saw me do so, and she flashed a quick smile in my direction. ¡°I had a bit of a cough yesterday, I think, and I don¡¯t want to give that to any customers.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯d rather give it to him?¡± Clara said, pointing at me.


    ¡°Well yeah, he¡¯s not a paying customer. Yet,¡± she quickly added, winking at me.


    ¡°Sure, Mabel, if you want him, you can have him,¡± Edith said, quickly dismissing her with her hand.  She reached for the bucket of water, and Mabel gladly handed it over. ¡°But that won¡¯t get you out of seeing a customer if they come in. We need money to pay the bills after all - just make sure to lay something down so the blood doesn¡¯t get everywhere. And try not to exhaust yourself too much, it¡¯s still a long day.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I won¡¯t, there¡¯s plenty of time left in the day,¡± Mabel said with a mischievous grin. ¡°Come on, we¡¯ve got to get you upstairs so Edith can clean and no one will see that you cracked your head open.¡± She held her hand out of me, and I grabbed onto it. If I hadn¡¯t fallen, I wouldn¡¯t have used her help to get up, considering she was about half my size, but my head was still hurting, and when I tried to get up, it started spinning a bit. Mabel saw the look on my face and, as soon as I was on my feet, she grabbed the rest of the whiskey bottle from the floor and shoved it into my hands. ¡°Here, drink this, you might need it.¡±


    I was fairly certain that drinking alcohol and any sort of injury was not a great mix, but there was so little of the bottle left, and I was hoping for any sort of painkiller I could get, since it didn¡¯t seem like anyone around here was going to offer me anything. I swigged the rest of the bottle in two large gulps, feeling the burn of the alcohol run down my throat. It had a strange taste - must have been some brand that I¡¯d never tried before, but ultimately it wasn¡¯t that bad of a drink.  She took the empty bottle from me and handed it back to Edith, again showing her mischievous grin that made me a bit nervous to go with her. ¡°Thanks ma¡¯am, I think that should help loosen him up a bit.¡±


    ¡°Good luck, just don¡¯t kill him,¡± Edith said, before kneeling down and starting to tend to the bloodstain on the carpet.

 Chapter 4

    Mable herded my upstairs and into the second room on the right on the east side of the building, which to my recollection, had been the room that my grandfather had always used as one of his home offices - I hadn¡¯t gotten the chance to fully clean it out yet, but I had had to be in there plenty already while we were trying to sort through any legal documents he had had. However, when we turned into the room, it was not set up as an office.  All of my grandfather¡¯s furniture had been removed, and it was replaced by an old, beat up wardrobe and a double bed. They¡¯d even managed to change to wall color, from a gray to a brown, rustic look. Half of me started to wonder how long I¡¯d been out, if they¡¯d already managed to change so much about the house. The other half of me had already started giving up trying to find out - clearly these were odd people in general, so it seemed impossible to figure out their ways.


    ¡°Now,¡± Mabel said, ¡°not sure where you came from, and frankly, I don¡¯t care. You¡¯ve had a terrible spill, and you need someone to nurse you back to health.¡± She walked to the wardrobe and opened one of the squeaky drawers, pulling out what looked like some darker colored rags. ¡°Luckily, I am particularly good at nursing people back to health. You see, I¡¯ve been with some rougher clients, and while some tend to want the usual, others just need a little attention. I¡¯m sure you know what that¡¯s like, needing a little attention.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be honest, I haven¡¯t known what you all have been talking about since I got here.¡± Mabel giggled, which sounded so innocent when matched with her action of draping an old cloth with some washed out rust colored stains on it over her pillowcase.


    ¡°Maybe that¡¯s for the best - while we like to get word of the house around town, I don¡¯t want everyone from the state to know we¡¯re here. We want customers, but we all only have so much time.¡± She tucked in the last corner of the rags under the pillow case and stood up, dusting her hands. ¡°Really, dear, I know head wounds bleed a lot, but you¡¯re really taking the cake.¡± She sauntered over to me and started peeling back the bandage that I had on my head, carefully inspecting the damage. ¡°The good news is, though, that the bleeding seems to have stopped for now. We¡¯ll get you cleaned up and you can have a little rest, and you¡¯ll be back to your peak condition in no time.¡± Her eyes slowly traced down from my head, lingering for a moment over my chest because they landed straight on the crotch of my pants. She paused for a beat, and with the lingering attention, I could feel something twitching down there. How I had enough blood left for that, I didn¡¯t know. Mabel smiled. ¡°Well, it looks like someone isn¡¯t feeling all that bad after all,¡± she chuckled. ¡°Let¡¯s see if we can improve that situation a bit. Plus, your clothes need to be washed desperately.¡±


    She reached for the bottom of my shirt, slowly rolling it over my body. It took me a second to figure out what was happening, but I swiftly grabbed the hem from her and yanked the shirt over my head. It hurt the wound slowly scabbing up, but it didn¡¯t start bleeding again, so I had more important things to worry about.


    A small smirk appeared on Mabel¡¯s face again, highlighting her pink lips and soft, brown eyes. ¡°Thanks for the help, you¡¯re a bit tall for me. Those need to go, too.¡± She reached down to the zipper of my pants and started fumbling with them. The button she managed to get done immediately, but she seemed to be having a bit of difficulty with the zipper.  She tried to pull it apart, and the zipper whirred down a bit. Then it seemed to click in her - she stuck her finger on top of the zipper and slowly pushed it down, grazing her way along the front of my growing member as she moved. Then, she grabbed the waistband and yanked them down with one fluid movement. I stepped out of them in assistance, and stood there in my boxers. She paused for a moment, staring straight at them, a look of confusion on her face. Then she shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t know where you come from, Mr. Brian, but you sure do wear some funny clothes. You must be French. That doesn¡¯t matter, I don¡¯t judge. Here, you¡¯d better lay down before that blood rush knocks you out again.¡±


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    She guided me to the edge of the bed and, before I could sit down, she thrust her arms into me, forcing me down onto the bed. With that one motion, I felt my cock fully harden under the tent of my boxers.  She looked down, smirked, and then went back to her wardrobe for a moment. ¡°I¡¯m glad you feel that way. But you¡¯re still covered in blood, and that has to go.¡± She reached into the wardrobe and grabbed another rag, then grabbed the pitcher of water that was sitting on the wardrobe top and headed back toward me. ¡°And we know you¡¯re far too feeble to take a bath right now, aren¡¯t you?¡± I nodded, and her smirk grew larger. ¡°Exactly. So the only way to get you clean is if I do it myself.¡± She dipped the rag into the water pitcher, then dabbed it onto my chest where, admittedly, there was little if any blood. The cold of the water shocked me a bit, but it felt nice as she rubbed the wet cloth in circles, slowly tracing its way down my chest and stomach.


    ¡°Just about done,¡± she purred, ¡°just got to make sure that every last bit of you is clean.¡± She pushed the rag just under the waistband of my boxers and I shuttered. I¡¯m not saying that I¡¯d been on a cold streak, but it¡¯d been a while since a woman was so forcefully interested. I propped myself up on my elbows to get a better look at the situation. She met my eyes and smiled at me innocently. ¡°Are you expecting something?¡±


    ¡°Not expecting. I wouldn¡¯t say no to something, though,¡± I smiled back.


    ¡°Of course you wouldn¡¯t. You wouldn¡¯t have the option to say no.¡± With a swift motion, she pulled back my boxers with one hand and swiftly grabbed the shaft of my cock with the other. ¡°I take what I want without asking - that¡¯s how you get things in this world.¡±


    She started running her hand along my shaft in smooth strokes as I watched, already feeling a sort of tension building up. But I wouldn¡¯t let myself come from just a few strokes - when you stumble into good luck, you¡¯ve got to take what you can get. ¡°God, that feels so good,¡± I groaned, unable to come up with a better response in that state. ¡°But your mouth would feel even better.¡±


    She cocked her eyebrow at me. ¡°Well, I didn¡¯t know that we had a little pervert in our midst,¡± she joked. ¡°Is this what you had in mind?¡± She flicked her tongue out and licked a circle around the head. I groaned deeply, trying hard to keep everything inside for the time being. ¡°Or, were you thinking more about this?¡± She grabbed my hand and placed it on the top of her head. As though it were an instinct, I immediately closed my fingers around her hair, and she smiled for a beat before she took the whole of my cock into her mouth.


    I groaned again, moving my hand with her head. ¡°Yes, exactly like that, keep it up,¡± I whined, knowing I wouldn¡¯t be able to hold out for much longer. I felt her mouth turn into a sort of pseudosmile as she worked her way over the shaft, and her fingers closely trailed, creating the tightness that I so craved. I moaned again, feeling my seed finally bubble up from inside me and burst out into her mouth. I collapsed back on the bed, panting heavily.


    Mabel got up from her position and visibly swallowed, then smiled at me sweetly. ¡°Not bad at all for your first time here.¡± she mewled. ¡°And it¡¯s hopefully not going to be your last. Or at least, it¡¯d better not be.¡± She ran her hands down my chest one last time, obviously eyeing it longingly, and if I had been a slightly younger man, I know my cock would have perked right back up at the sight. ¡°But that should hopefully help you sleep for now. Maybe next time, if you¡¯ve got more blood in you, I¡¯ll be able to play for longer.¡±


    She winked at me and turned toward the door, taking with her the lantern that had been illuminating the room, leaving me in the dark, in what was both a strange and familiar room. I sat in the dark, wondering what had happened to me and if any of it had even been real. Maybe that paint can killed me, and this is what the afterlife was like. I could handle that.

 Chapter 5

    I hadn¡¯t even been aware that I had fallen asleep, but the slight jabbing pain in my back was more than enough to make me acutely aware of it.  I sat up groggily, rubbing my back where it hurt. It didn¡¯t seem like the skin was broken at least, but more like I had been laying on something.  I felt behind me in the dark and felt a long slender item.  I couldn¡¯t tell what it felt like by touch alone. I stood up slowly, something about the whole situation still feeling off. I was shaky, probably due to blood loss, and I was no longer in a bed, but rather sprawled out on the floor. I still seemed to be in the same room that I had gone to sleep in, but it seemed off that they would remove the bed with me still sleeping in it.


    I shuffled to the door, being careful to not bump into anything that would cause me to fall - what I felt relatively okay at the moment, I didn¡¯t want to test myself against another injury. On the other hand, I thought, if I did manage to injure myself, maybe my nurses would come back. Would be fun, but not worth the risk. I flicked the light, turning to look back toward the room.


    The room was back to the way it had been the day before - the bed and wardrobe had been removed, replaced with the old desk and bookshelf that my grandfather had supplied. It made no sense - despite having to move all of the furniture silently so as to not wake me up, I had also attempted to move the bookshelf a few days ago, and I had found it too heavy for me to lift. Unless a group of women¡¯s power lifters had stumbled upon the house, them being able to move it in such a fashion seemed unlikely.


    I looked down at the object in my hand. It was the trim paint brush I had been using when I first fell. I didn¡¯t remember having picked it up when we left the room, but I must have done it subconsciously. I stuck it back into my back pocket and looked around  - nothing appeared to have been disturbed at all. In fact, there was still a thin layer of dust on parts of the bookshelf that I had not yet gotten a chance to clean. My handprints were still clearly visible from where I had grabbed it in an attempt to move it, but there were no other markings to be found.


    I jumped at the sound of movement from the other side of the room, but when I turned, I saw that it was just Duke stretching, happy to see me awake. ¡°Hey buddy,¡± I said, offering him my hand, and he greatly came to be pet. ¡°Did you have an exciting night?¡± Duke wagged his tail at me, and for the millionth time, I wished that he could talk so that he could tell me where he had been. While it wasn¡¯t like him to not be hanging around me, I guessed that it wasn¡¯t that unusual for him to be in a room with someone else , especially if they were doing something in the kitchen. I think he would drop me like a bad habit if someone gave him a piece of chicken. Either way, he didn¡¯t appear to still be locked up, and I supposed that¡¯s what mattered.


    I walked out of the room and to the entryway where I had fallen. It was back to the gray color that it had been before - must have been some weird trick of the light, I thought. But then, I looked at the floor, and I saw the spilled paint can that had attempted to end my life the night before. The light blue coloring was spilled in a ring right next to the ladder I had been standing on. Surprisingly, though, there didn¡¯t appear to be any blood on the floor, so my only other option didn¡¯t make any sense - this wasn¡¯t all just a bad dream, because I definitely did not scrub the blood off the floor in a haze.  I went over to the spot where I thought I had fallen and touched the floor. The carpet did in fact still feel a little damp, as though it had been freshly washed.


    Duke approached the carpet and smelled the area, letting out a low whine as he did so. ¡°Duke, what do you think is going on here?¡± I asked him. Obviously, he was silent, but I had a feeling that he knew.


    ___________________


    ¡°So you cleaned the blood up yourself and just forgot about it? Must have been one hell of a head wound.¡± My friend, Charlie, reclined on a plastic tote that I had yet to unpack, using another box as a footrest. He was a tall man who looked like he¡¯d hardly slept an hour in the last year, and knowing him, that was probably accurate.  He took a long drink from his beer, eyes closed as though he was trying to gather all of his thoughts.  He took an extra beat of silence before he responded. ¡°Are you absolutely sure you¡¯re not just craving a nice grippy sock vacation? Let me tell you, they¡¯ve got this great new place down the road -¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not crazy, Charlie, I know what I saw.¡± I took a long drink of my beer as well - I knew you weren¡¯t supposed to drink much after a head injury, but I¡¯d let it heal for a day, and frankly after everything, I felt like I needed it. ¡°Or at least what I think I saw. Maybe I had a concussion that was making me hallucinate, and maybe I just didn¡¯t bleed all that bad.¡±


    ¡°I have never seen a head wound that didn¡¯t make the person look like they were going to bleed out in a few seconds. But maybe you¡¯re right - frankly, you¡¯re just lucky that you¡¯re still alive, so I would expect you to see some hallucinations. Maybe the grim reaper took pity on you and helped clean up?¡±


    ¡°That would make as much sense as any other explanation.¡± We¡¯d be sitting there for a good hour as I explained the story to him (leaving out some of the more graphic details - Charlie didn¡¯t need to know every detail about my apparent wet dreams). We were trying hard to come up with anything that would make the situation make sense. So far, the best we¡¯d come up with was a group of women robbers mixed with me being in a different room than I thought. While that didn¡¯t seem wholly likely to me, it seemed a far better option than any of the others.


    The wind howled outside, and Charlie turned to look at it. ¡°Better get that fixed before the winter comes, or else it¡¯s going to be freezing in here.¡±


    ¡°It already is sometimes,¡± I admitted. ¡°Not sure if the air conditioning is broken or what, but sometimes you¡¯ll just be walking around and all of a sudden you¡¯ll feel some freezing air on your neck.¡±


    Charlie chuckled. ¡°Well, maybe you¡¯ve got yourself a ghost problem, then. You ever hear old stories from your grandpa about how a group of ghost girls came and sucked his dick?¡±


    I laughed along with him. ¡°You know, for some reason, that just isn¡¯t the kind of story that gets passed around at family holidays. Not sure why.¡±


    ¡°I mean, it¡¯d beat talking to some of my relatives about politics, so I¡¯d be all for it. But it does make a lot of sense when you come to think about it. The group of people you don¡¯t know who happen to know every detail about the house, the cold spots, the noises, some busty chick being attracted to you - the only explanations are hallucinations or ghosts, and hallucinations don¡¯t clean up after themselves. Not sure ghosts would, either, but there¡¯s probably a higher probability.¡±


    ¡°True, but out of those options, only one of them is actually real,¡± I reminded him. ¡°Besides, if this place was haunted, don¡¯t you think that someone would have noticed something in all the time that the family stayed here?¡±


    ¡°You just said that you don¡¯t know if they did,¡± he said, gesturing at me with the ti of this bottle before taking another long swig. ¡°As far as we know, all of your cousins saw a ghost every day they were here and just nobody thought to bring it up.¡±


    ¡°Dude, my dad grew up in this house. If it were haunted, don¡¯t you think he would have at least talked about it at some point? Or, at the very least, that he would believe in ghosts by this point.¡±


    ¡°People believe what they want to believe. Sometimes, proof can be staring them straight in the eyes and they¡¯ll be too stubborn to notice it. You see it all the time - there¡¯s still people who think lizardmen command the earth, after all.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if disbelief if ghosts and believing in lizard people is really on the same level,¡± I reminded him.


    ¡°It might be, depending on how much ghost pussy he was getting. I would vote for you calling him to ask. Worst case scenario, he has no idea what you¡¯re talking about. Best case scenario, we confirm that the house is super haunted and we can go from there.¡±


    ¡°Alright, fine, that¡¯s not as terrible as most of your ideas,¡± I joked.  I pulled out my phone and typed in my father¡¯s number.


    ___________


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°So anyway,¡± my father said, after about a half hour of talking about everything from sports to health to his day to day life, ¡°what¡¯s new with you over there? How has the old house been treating you?¡±


    ¡°Actually, that¡¯s what I called to talk to you about.¡± I pulled the phone away from my ear and turned on speaker so that Charlie could hear the conversation as well - he seemed to have been plenty happy to just hang out and sip his beer in relative silence, but I think he was just as curious about the situation as I was. ¡°I¡¯ve got all of my stuff moved over here, and I¡¯ve been working on getting some of the renovations done, but I was curious - in all the years that you¡¯ve lived here, and all the times we¡¯ve visited grandpa, did you ever notice anything weird?¡±


    ¡°Well, you know, I would imagine that some of the contractors that your grandparents hired weren¡¯t probably strictly speaking above board. Back when they were growing up, there weren¡¯t as many large companies that were doing the construction, so they would often just have to go by word of mouth. They were also big fans of using a handshake rather than a contract, which I told them several times is not the way that things are done anymore, but when they¡¯d had such good luck every other time, I can¡¯t blame them for continuing on. But they definitely did some things that weren¡¯t regulation with that house - I remember one time they were trying to paint on the wall across from the staircase by using two ladders and a board to make a sawhorse, and then they propped another ladder on top of that. Luckily I was around that day, because I put a stop to that at once. I¡¯d imagine that some of that handiwork is still present in the house, though. That alone should be a good enough reason for you to want to hire out electricians - a lot of that house is in great condition, but there are definitely going to be some parts that are held up with bubble gum and good thoughts, and I don¡¯t want you to be getting on the wrong end of one of those.¡±


    ¡°No, dad, that¡¯s not exactly what I meant, although it¡¯s nice to have a heads up about that, and if you know of any areas in particular that need work because of that, please let me know and I will get them looked at. But more of what I mean is, have you ever noticed anything that you couldn¡¯t explain happening in the house?¡±


    ¡°Well, I couldn¡¯t explain the train of thought that went into using two ladders as a prop for the others, I tell you what.¡±


    ¡°No, Dad,¡± I started, but Charlie held up his hand to cut me off.


    ¡°Hi, Mr. Marshall,¡± he said.


    ¡°Why, it¡¯s Charlie! Good to hear from you! How have your parents been? I haven¡¯t seen them in forever - you should tell them to stop on by the house so we can have a cup of coffee.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll tell them that, sir, and they¡¯re doing well. Now, what I think Brian was trying to ask was whether you had seen anything in the house that defied what we would consider normal in the realm of physics. Say, things falling off the shelves with no explanation, or cold spots in places with no ventilation, that sort of thing.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you want to know if it¡¯s haunted? Brian, I thought you¡¯d grown out of that silly sort of stuff ages ago!¡±


    I blushed slightly - part of me did think that even considering ghosts was foolish when it was almost certainly just because I had hit my head and was having some sort of side effects from that. But concussions can only cause so many things - I¡¯m pretty sure, even with a bad head wound, I would have remembered cleaning up blood. At the very least, I know that stuff stains, and that carpet is spotless, so I would have had to look it up, and my search history verified that I had not. ¡°I know, Dad, it seems like a really silly question. But can you just play along for a minute? There¡¯s been some weird stuff that¡¯s been happening, and I want to know if I¡¯m the only one it¡¯s been happening to, or if it¡¯s just something that¡¯s weird about this house.¡±


    ¡°Well, I can tell you what, like I said, there are some weird things about that house, but I¡¯m guessing you¡¯re just hearing a couple of noises and jumping to conclusions. You used to do that all the time when you went over there as a small child - you¡¯d run off into a corner of the house and then come back and tell us that you saw something, and your grandfather would just joke along, because we¡¯d rather have you be a bit scared of the house than wandering off too far and getting yourself into trouble. But you never were too scared about it, you always thought it was funny, and we thought it was adorable. Do you remember that at all, or were you too young for that?¡±


    I tried to think back - I remembered coming over here a lot as a small child, because both of my parents had full time jobs, and my grandfather and whatever other family members were hanging around the house at the time were always the best daycare that two young parents could afford. I remembered playing around in all of the different rooms, trying to find something, because as a child, the house reminded me of something that I would have seen on Scooby Doo - small children don¡¯t usually get free reign to roam around larger houses. But as far as I could remember, I never actually saw anything, nor did I tell anyone that I did. ¡°No, I unfortunately don¡¯t remember that part.¡±


    ¡°Oh, sure, you were pretty young, it would be easy to forget. But us adults would be having some coffee in the foyer, and you would come running in like a bat out of hell to tell us that there were people in the house. The first few times, we did go look, but we never did find anything. Eventually, we stopped going to look unless you were very insistent on it - as your grandpa always said, that house was too far out of town at that time, nobody would come out there looking for things. Yeah, there were the occasional cold spots, but it¡¯s an old house - insulation has gotten so much better since that time, and I¡¯m betting that if it¡¯s like a lot of the old houses over here, the insulation got installed much later, and they only put it in the areas of the house that were easy to get to. If a wall has too much permanent decoration on it, there¡¯s no contractor who wouldn¡¯t charge hundreds just to tear it down and put it back up again, and while you may want to look into it so you¡¯re not as cold in the winter, I¡¯m sure it wasn¡¯t the first thing on everyone¡¯s minds at the time. That house had gone through a few owners, and not everybody tried to take care of it as well as your grandpa did.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± Charlie interjected so as to keep him from starting to ramble on about a different subject. That was the thing with me dad - if someone like Charlie wasn¡¯t there to keep him on track, the subject of conversation was bound to change at random. Not a bad thing for most normal conversation, but not the best when you were trying to get information out of him. ¡°So we do have confirmed cold spots in the house, although those are probably due more to construction codes than they are to anything paranormal. Have you ever seen anything getting knocked over on its own, or anything go missing and then return later?¡±


    ¡°Of course! Who hasn¡¯t seen that sort of thing? There¡¯s a slight breeze, and things will get knocked off the walls. I know just the other day, your mother was hanging up some pictures and one apparently was a little unsteady and fell down after she had moved on. An annoying circumstance, but not that unusual.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fair,¡± I agreed. ¡°Although in this instance, the largest thing I¡¯ve seen fallen has been a paint can.¡±


    ¡°A paint can? Wow, that¡¯s a bit heavy to be taken by the wind. But I would assume that some of the floors in that place are a bit unsteady, so maybe it just hit a rough spot.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so - it had been on the stairs and unmoved for quite a bit.¡±


    ¡°And maybe something finally managed to move it. You¡¯ve got a dog, maybe he got a bit excited and knocked it over. Things happen.¡±


    I rolled my eyes, and Charlie correctly assumed that was a sign to take over. ¡°Just to cover our bases, you said that some of the other owners didn¡¯t take as good of care of the house as Brian¡¯s grandpa did. Do you happen to know offhand who those owners were and what parts of the house they let go, so that we can look for other areas that need to be fixed up?¡± I nodded at him - he always was the one who could come up with the best questions that would keep my father on track without letting him know what we were up to. It¡¯s a skill we had used many times in our youth, and I¡¯m sure it was a skill that we would use many times in our adulthood as well.


    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know the names exactly - if you wanted to figure that out, you¡¯d have to probably go town to the county and see if they still had records on who submitted paperwork for taxes. They could probably get you whatever information you needed. But I do know that it was built by a man who had a large family back in the mid to late 1800s. After that, it was owned by a woman who ran a brothel out of it, and then it was bought by another man who only owned it for about a year before he sold it to your grandfather. I don¡¯t even know if the other man lived in the house, because when your grandfather bought it, it had definitely fallen into a state of disrepair, as though it had just been left to rot in that time. Not sure what the point is of buying a house just to let it fall into ruins. But, your grandfather got the house for a steal at that point. Even having to redo some of the structural work was significantly cheaper than trying to buy another house that size in the 50s. I know houses were a lot cheaper back then than they are now, but they still aren¡¯t that cheap when you¡¯re trying to house a minimum of 8 people at a time.¡±


    ¡°Can we circle back to that brothel part,¡± Charlie said, looking at me in the eye - it seems that we had both come up with the connection at the same time. ¡°Do you know approximately how many people lived in the house at the time, or what their names were, or the style of the house?¡±


    The question actually made my father pause for a moment. ¡°You know, I was pretty young when we first moved in, so I don¡¯t know a ton about what was happening at the time, no. Again, might be good to go to the county for that sort of thing. While I don¡¯t think it was 100% a legally owned establishment at that time, I also think the general rule was that if it was happening out of town, no one really cared about it. They might not have all the information you¡¯re looking for, but they might at least be able to give you a name. As for the style, I only slightly remember that - I remember the walls were blue when I was a child, but I don¡¯t remember if they were blue when we moved in, or if that¡¯s a choice that my father made early on. I assume that sort of information is something that has unfortunately been lost to the sands of time, although you could possibly call your aunt and ask her about it if you¡¯re so inclined - she was older when we lived there, so she might have a better memory of it than I do.¡±


    ¡°Alright, thanks dad! We¡¯ll ask around and see if we can get it figured out.¡±


    ¡°You let me know if you do - I think this whole ghost bullshit is ridiculous, but it would be great to learn more about the history of the house.¡±


    We said our goodbyes, which included another twenty minute diatribe from my father about the things he saw on the news, but finally I was able to hang up.  I turned toward Charlie and took a long swig of my drink. ¡°Well, that was a bit of a dead end.¡±


    He cocked an eyebrow at me incredulously. ¡°Are you kidding? Sure, your dad doesn¡¯t believe in ghosts - we came in knowing that, and we knew one conversation wasn¡¯t about to change his mind. But we now know that there was a brothel in the house. That makes a lot of sense to me - a group of women all living in the house, eager to jump on any man that wanders in off the street. Plus, depending on the town at the time, that might have been why they were so unconcerned with head wounds. If you see enough violence around, you would probably get really used to it.¡±


    I thought about it for a second - their outfits were different than those I had seen in old movies, but those weren¡¯t probably super accurate. They did look super old fashioned, though, so it¡¯s possible that that is what the standard brothel fashion had been at the times. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± I admitted. ¡°I still think I probably just knocked my head hard enough to come up with a whole new reality, but it wouldn¡¯t hurt to go ask the county about it. At least then we can get a name, plus have a story to tell my dad the next time I see him.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the spirit! Pun intended.¡± Charlie chugged the rest of his bottle of beer, then stood up, digging in his pockets for his keys. ¡°I¡¯d probably better get back - I¡¯m late as it is, and I don¡¯t want to keep Kevin up. We¡¯ll go poking around the county the first thing on Monday, but if I were you, I¡¯d take a minute to open up your mind to the possibility of spirits. Maybe you can get in contact and figure out what¡¯s going on even faster than that. Or, more importantly, you can let the world know what a ghost pussy feels like.¡±

 Chapter 6

    The hallways of the house were dark and cold - even though the air outside was hot, there always seemed to be a chill running through the hallways. It never seemed to stay in the same spot, however - one day it¡¯d be down by the bathroom, and the next, it''d be frigid right next to the front door. Today, the cold seemed to have centralized right in front of my bedroom door, making going to bed have a foreboding air that was normally not present. Part of my wondered if my grandfather had noticed the moving cold current around his house and had just never mentioned anything. I was going to have to have a contractor cme down and take a look at the insulation - they may not have had the money to put it in the first time, but I definitely wanted to get that done before winter took its true hold.


    A part of my mind, though, kept wandering back to the conversation I¡¯d had with Charlie. Ghosts were not a thing that I had put much if any stock into since I was a small child - they were about as real as Santa Claus - but I was running out of logical ideas. After all, if I was wrong and ghosts did exist, the only people I would look foolish in front of would be, well, them.


    ¡°Hi?¡± I asked into the night. My words rung in the quiet hallway, echoed only by themselves and the sound of Duke¡¯s footsteps as he skittered up the stairs to find me. The cold felt immovable, and didn¡¯t seem at all concerned with my words. ¡°Um, I¡¯m not sure if anyone can hear me,¡± I started, trailing off at the end of my sentence. Duke looked up at me questioningly, assuming I was talking to him. Then, he turned from me and cocked his head to the side, staring into the dark hallway in front of me.


    ¡°You know, what, fuck this,¡± I muttered to myself as I pulled out my phone and turned on the flashlight. I knew all the ghost shows I had ever watched made it seem like ghosts would only come out if it was pitch black, but that seemed as ridiculous to me as most of the toys that they pretended to use to communicate with spirits. If ghosts are people who died ages ago, as they so claim, then why wouldn¡¯t they want to communicate in the light? I know I personally wouldn¡¯t like it much, either, if someone started yelling at me from out of the darkness. I imagined that that would be a universal experience, no matter your life status.


    I shined the flashlight down the hallway in front of me, paying careful attention to shine it where Duke had been staring a minute ago. I saw nothing, though, and Duke had turned his attention back to me. I sighed a sigh of relief - I still didn¡¯t think there was anything there, but staring down a dark hallway while your dog notices something that you don¡¯t was about as close to a horror movie trope as I was willing to play with. Chances are that he just smelled something from outside that caught his attention for a few moments.


    I took the few steps to my bedroom door and turned the handle. Or, rather, I attempted to turn the handle. The door handle seemed frozen in place - as I attempted to turn it, my fingers just glided around the outside. I stood there for a moment, trying to register what was happening. I didn¡¯t remember locking the door behind me. In fact, I wasn¡¯t positive that this door even had a lock on it - the only locks I had seen were obviously the ones on the front door and the bathrooms. I tried the handle again, just to make sure there hadn¡¯t been some weird fluke last time. The handle slid around in my hand again, but more disconcertingly, Duke started to let out a faint growl. I turned toward him, and his eyes were locked on the door.


    ¡°What is it, Duke?¡± I whispered, not wanting to attract attention to myself if there was someone behind the door. I didn¡¯t think there was anyone there, though - the house was so quiet that I was completely convinced that I would have been able to hear footsteps if they had been present. I¡¯d been trying to listen for a sign, too, that there was any sort of ghost activity. Had someone been in the room making noise, I would have definitely heard it.


    A thought crossed my mind like an intrusion - I could just knock on the door. Of course that wasn¡¯t going to do anything, but I nearly couldn¡¯t stop my hand from reaching out and knocking on the door regardless. The door sounded hollow behind my hand, and on the plus side, I didn¡¯t hear anyone immediately scurry to try to hide and/or leave. I must have just somehow locked the door by accident when I left the room this morning. I tried the door handle again, as one last ditch attempt before I would end up calling a locksmith in the morning.


    The door handle turned in my hand. I looked down at it in disbelief, but shook my head and pushed the door open. I wasn¡¯t sure what it was in this house that made people think that crazy things were happening to them. I¡¯d checked the carbon monoxide detectors when I¡¯d first moved in, but maybe I¡¯d go to the store and get some new ones tomorrow, just in case.


    I swung the door open, swinging my flashlight around the room with it. As I had suspected, there was no one in there, and there weren¡¯t a lot of places for them to hide. There was no one under the bed, nothing of note in the closet, and the window was shut and locked. I wasn¡¯t sure exactly what had happened with the doorknob - maybe they were just old and starting to stick, but it clearly was not the result of an intruder from the inside.


    Relieved, I pulled my t-shirt over my head and tossed it into the corner of my room that had become my temporary clothes hamper. I unzipped my jeans and left them crumpled up next to the bed - they were already dirty from getting the house set up, but I didn¡¯t have anywhere to be the next day, and only other pants that I¡¯d managed to dig out so far were my dress pants. I climbed under the covers in just my boxers, and spent the next hour trying to fall asleep as my brain spinned around all of the information that had been discussed that day.


    ____________


    ¡°Really, did your mother never raise you? Did you grow up in a barn? I¡¯d bet money on it, what with these random piles of filth in my room.¡±


    My eyes shot open at the sound of the voice, but I immediately closed them again as the light burned them. I could have sworn that I¡¯d turned off the light, but whoever came in must have turned it back on. I held up my hand to shield my eyes from the most of the light before reopening them to a squint. One of the women from the other day - Edith, I think? - was standing in the corner of the room by the side of my bed, holding the jeans that I¡¯d discarded earlier. She folded them with one fluid motion, then set them on the edge of the bed.


    ¡°What the hell are you doing here again?¡± I asked her, sitting upright.  I glanced around the room - Duke was missing again, as was the furniture set that my grandfather had - in its place was an old wardrobe, similar to the one that had been in the office, but significantly more worn. On it was a stack of papers that looked disheveled, as though she had just been rifling through them before she woke me up.


    ¡°I think it¡¯s my turn to be asking you that question.¡± Edith sat down on the edge of the bed and turned to face me. From her stiffness, it was obvious that she had a corset under her shirt, which struck me as odd, considering how old everything else in the house seemed to be. I wouldn¡¯t imagine a corset would be the first thing a person would spend money on. ¡°You¡¯ve showed up in my house again, this time in my bed. Per Clara, you didn¡¯t even pay for your last trip here, and that has left a bit of a hole in our books, which I assure you, we will be rectifying with this visit. And now, you¡¯re in my old bedroom, and in my bed nonetheless. What possessed you to think that this would be appropriate behavior? You know damn well that I¡¯m not one that you get to spend your time with, and this is an invasion of privacy to say the least. Who even let you in here? Are they joking, or were you being noncompliant and need to be taught a lesson?¡±


    Edith paused as though she were waiting for an answer, but I had no idea where to start. My brain had stopped on the fact that she had called this her room, instead of her being in mine. ¡°Sorry, but I think you¡¯re confused,¡± I started, unsure how to word it. It wasn¡¯t very often that one had to argue about the ownership of a house, especially with a complete stranger, and the words felt foreign in my mouth. ¡°You called this your house, but this is mine. I inherited it. I live here. And I have no idea who you are.¡±


    ¡°I think I would know if there were someone like you living in this house,¡± she snorted. ¡°I¡¯ve been here close to 10 years now, and I didn¡¯t see you a day before this week. I know all the ins and outs of this house, too, so don¡¯t go trying to fool me with any of your squatter nonsense. That sort of stuff ain¡¯t going to work around here. So unless you¡¯re trying to pay to spend a night in my bed, in which case I don¡¯t think you have enough money to be able to pay me, you¡¯d better be getting on.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to pay to stay the night in my own house!¡±


    ¡°Or for our services, either,¡± she scoffed. ¡°But this is my house. I bought it for me and my girls, and you, sir, are no longer welcome in this establishment.¡±


    ¡°What establishment?¡± I finally cried, getting fed up over the situation. Edith was spunky, and I liked that in a person, but not necessarily when it was directed at me in such a confusing way.


    ¡°The brothel, of course!¡± from the sound of her voice, she was nearly as fed up as I was. ¡°Where did you think you were? A bar from the sound of you.¡±


    ¡°Wait, this is the brothel?¡± A cold feeling started sinking in my stomach - we had said earlier that the brothel had made too much sense in this situation, but having it confirmed was a whole different situation entirely.


    ¡°Of course. Where else do you think you come in and get the company of women at the drop of a hat? My God, if you were any slower, a turtle would beat you in a race.¡±


    It couldn¡¯t be. Ghosts were not a real thing, and even if they were, there was no way that I would be able to visit me. Their whole thing is appearing as indistinct blobs of mist tat you see out of the corner of your eye when you¡¯re trying to go to sleep. And yet, here was Edith, looking as lifelike as myself. My eyes traced over her face, down her fine waist, and then down her silhouette (admittedly pausing slightly over her breasts and hips, but the lizard brain in me can only be so concerned with the spirit world when there¡¯s an admittedly attractive woman standing in front of me). Maybe I had died when the paint can hit me? Maybe I was still comatose in the hospital, and this was one big, weird delusion to keep me from noticing the charming of the alarms. But still, that made no sense to me.


    I reached my leg out, hitting her lightly on her ass. It was real, all right - firm, supple, and not able to be passed through. She looked down at my foot with annoyance. ¡°Are you going to answer my question or not?¡± she said impatiently. Which, I suppose made sense - I was in her bedroom, apparently.


    ¡°Sorry, I just¡­I think I figured out what¡¯s going on here.¡±


    ¡°Well then by all means, don¡¯t keep it hidden from the rest of us curious people,¡± she said, gesturing to the empty room. For a moment, I couldn¡¯t tell if she was being serious and there were a bunch more ghosts, this time invisible, hiding in the corners of the room. Then she turned back at me, a slight smirk on her face from her own joke, and I knew that that was not the case.


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    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know exactly, but I have a couple of theories. One is that I¡¯m from the future.¡±


    ¡°The future?¡± she laughed. ¡°Who are you, the grandson I could have had, here to tell me about all the wrongs I¡¯ve done in my life?¡±


    ¡°No. Or, well, at least I don¡¯t think so. Pretty sure we¡¯re not related, but when I told you that I own this house, that was the truth. I inherited it from my grandfather, who bought it from someone when he was about my age, and the person he bought it from had apparently bought it from you.¡±


    ¡°Bought it from me? I know you¡¯ve made some jokes tonight, but that¡¯s perhaps one of your best jokes, yet! I¡¯ve always said that they can rip the key from this house out of my cold, dead hands, and I fully intend to keep that promise.¡±


    ¡°Exactly - I think that¡¯s what happened. And now for some reason, I¡¯m here, when I¡¯m supposed to be like 100 years into the future.¡±


    ¡°Well, that would explain some of your weird clothing choice, but that could also be explained by the fact that you¡¯re an absolute loon.¡±


    ¡°I wish I had my phone so I could prove it to you.¡± I looked longingly over to where my bedside table should be, but there was just empty space. ¡°In my time, your outfit is ridiculous.¡±


    She looked down at her clothes, as though just now realizing what she was wearing. ¡°I suppose it is a bit out of the fashion at this point, but this is perfectly acceptable attire.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, maybe for the 1900s, but not today.¡± We stared into each other''s eyes blankly for a few beats before it finally clicked. ¡°That¡¯s what year it is, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°1912,¡± she said, looking me up and down. ¡°And you really aren¡¯t from now, are you? If you were, you wouldn¡¯t be so surprised by that news, I wouldn¡¯t think.¡±


    ¡°I am not.  I don¡¯t think my grandparents were even born by 1912.¡±


    ¡°Well, that does pose a bit of a problem then, doesn¡¯t it?¡± She stood up, her hands clasped in front of her as though in prayer. ¡°Do you know about how long you¡¯ll be staying in this time? I assume your money is no good here, and you don¡¯t seem to have brought anything with you, including a set of clothing.¡±


    ¡°I wish I knew how long I¡¯d be staying, but I don¡¯t even know how I got here. It just sort of happens. Like last time, I got hit in the head with a paint can.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I remember that well. It took me forever to get the blood stains out of the front carpet, and I¡¯m not entirely sure if Clara ever got them out of her bedsheets¡­although I certainly hope so, I¡¯m fairly certain that she¡¯s had clients since then.¡±


    Edith¡¯s head seemed to be a bit more cloudy than the last time I was here, but to be fair, it seemed to be pretty late at night. I wasn¡¯t positive how late it was, as there were no clocks in the room, but outside the window was pitch blackness. Inside the room, only a couple of candles showed any sort of light. I ignored her commentary and continued. ¡°And today, the last thing I remember is falling asleep. So, with any luck, I¡¯ll come out of it by morning.  At least for right now, it seems to be something that only happens when I¡¯m unconscious.¡±


    She smiled at that comment. ¡°And you assume that I¡¯m not just a vivid dream that you¡¯re having, then?¡±


    ¡°Trust me, I¡¯ve considered it. In fact, I sincerely hope that¡¯s the case. And yet -¡± I grabbed her wrist as she paced past, and she immediately acquiesced her hand to mind. Her skin was warm to the touch, as well as quite soft, although I could feel calluses on her fingers. That made sense with the little bit I knew of her - she didn¡¯t seem like the kind of person who would just be running the place, when she could instead be tending to the needs of the house. ¡°You feel too real to be a dream. I don¡¯t know how this works, but somehow I managed to come back here.¡±


    Edith pulled her hand away, a small blush appearing on her face. ¡°And you somehow manage to always find me. What dumb luck.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d say it¡¯s pretty good luck, personally. Without you, I probably wouldn¡¯t have healed as quickly from my head wound. Or, at the very least, it would have been a much less enjoyable of a wakeup than it was.¡±


    Her eyes glistened with interest and she stopped her pacing for a moment, turning back toward me. ¡°And what did happen when you woke up? You seem to have survived the night, at least.¡±


    I smiled. Her biting tongue was probably not something that would have been sought out back in her days, especially when talking with me that she didn¡¯t know well, but I thought it was endearing. ¡°Basically just that. I woke up with a searing headache, but a fully scabbed over wound. Went and found my dog, who acted like he hadn¡¯t seen me in years. And then I went downstairs to look at the spot where I fell, and saw that there was a ton of paint that I had to clean up, but the blood was gone, I assume thanks to you.¡±


    ¡°How interesting¡­so, what you¡¯re claiming is that, when you come to this world, you come with, and apparently your clothing, but nothing else seems to join you. And when you leave, you don¡¯t take anything back, but everything connected with you leaves as well. Does that sound about right?¡±


    I thought about it for a moment. I hadn¡¯t thought to check my pockets the last time I was here to see if I had brought my phone with me, but now that I thought about it, nothing clattered to the floor when my pants were removed, so it can¡¯t have come with me. But the bandage didn¡¯t make it back (although frankly, the situation was so chaotic that it was possible that Clara took it off without me noticing), but the blood stain had disappeared assumedly because Edith had cleaned it up. Not sure why that meant that the floor was still wet, though - that must have meant that the water from the floor came back too, right? ¡°I haven¡¯t tried bringing anything back with me,¡± I said finally, ¡°but otherwise, that seems about right.¡±


    ¡°In that case, I guess we¡¯ll have to test it, and hope that you don¡¯t end up staying here too long. And, if that¡¯s the case, then you can perhaps try to bring something for me next time, to prove your story. Here,¡± she said. One hand reached into her cleavage and I froze - I had to admit that I found Edith attractive, but I thought she had at most a passing fancy for me. Maybe even begrudging acceptance. But then she started pulling out a white handkerchief like she had used on my last time here and I felt my body relax. I had to admit, though, that with that relaxation was also a twinge of disappointment. She held out the handkerchief to me - take this back with you, and we¡¯ll see if it actually goes with, or if it stays here when you leave.¡±


    I grabbed the handkerchief from her, but then I realized the fatal flaw in the plan. ¡°The only issue is that, it seems like the only time I can go back and forth is when I¡¯m asleep or unconscious, so I don¡¯t know how I¡¯ll be able to hold onto it.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t you just put it in your pocket?¡± she asked, pointing down at my crotch. I looked down, confused - I thought I had gotten undressed before going to bed. Indeed I had, but it became immediately obvious what she was referring to - the fly of my boxers.


    ¡°No, no, no, that¡¯s not a pocket,¡± I quickly stammered. The fact that she didn¡¯t know what the fly was for was an easy way to tell that she was telling the truth about being from the early 1900s. ¡°That¡¯s this thing we have in underwear now - it, uh, lets you pee easier.¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± Her eyes widened, looking down at my boxers again. While the situation felt awkward, having that sort of direct attention to my package made it twitch slightly, and I sincerely hoped that the movement was not visible beneath the thin fabric. ¡°But it still goes inside, right? Might not be the most proper way to bring something back, but it still should function fine. May I?¡±


    I nodded, not entirely sure what she was asking, but unfortunately the blood was starting to run from my head at that moment, so I didn¡¯t particularly care. She grabbed the handkerchief from my hand and crouched down in front of me. Deftly, she pulled open the fly of my boxers and shoved the handkerchief inside. I felt that plus her hand lightly brush against my swiftly engorging cock and tried my best to stifle a moan that suddenly appeared in my throat. Come on, body, I told myself - this is not a sexy situation, you have to keep it together.  My cock didn¡¯t listen, as it twitched at her touch, but she either didn¡¯t feel the movement, or she chose to ignore it.


    ¡°There, now you¡¯ll be able to bring it back, even though you¡¯ll be asleep.¡± She swiftly stood up and looked at me, then giggled slightly. ¡°And, forgive me for saying this, but you get used to it when you¡¯re in this profession - it makes you look extremely well-endowed.¡± While I think most of my blood was headed down to my package, I still felt some manage to creep up and flush my face. ¡°Now comes the difficult question, though - if you need to fall asleep, where are we going to have that happen?¡±


    ¡°I would prefer in the house,¡± I quickly injected. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t mind staying elsewhere if it made you more comfortable, but last time I woke up in the same spot where I went to sleep, and I¡¯d rather not wake up in someone else¡¯s house in my boxers.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s understandable. I wouldn¡¯t want you to leave the house in this state either - we run a professional establishment, and I don¡¯t want to run the risk of someone seeing you and assuming that you were either robbed of all of your possessions, or that I had allowed you to come into the house in that sort of dress. Either way, it would lead to a bad look.¡± She turned back toward her wardrobe and started ruffling through the papers that topped it. After a moment, she found the paper she was looking for and started to read it. ¡°Clara already has a client who chose to spend the night, so her room is out for today. That¡¯s unfortunate - she probably would have been the most accepting of a scantily clad man showing up at her door in the middle of the night, plus I¡¯m sure she would have welcomed the chance to see you again. Alice is free, but I think she¡¯s feeling under the weather, and while I want to test if you can bring things back and forth, I don¡¯t want you to die before you get a chance to return. Maybe Hattie¡¯s?¡±


    ¡°Or, if you don¡¯t mind, I could just stay here,¡± I interjected. While I didn¡¯t mind the chance of getting some action, especially at this point, I agreed that it would be interesting to see if we could bring things back and forth, and I didn¡¯t want to ruin the chances of that just so I could get laid.


    ¡°You do realize that while this is still technically part of the brothel, my bedroom is normally off limits to the guests, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°True, but I¡¯m going to guess that most of the guests aren¡¯t time travelers. But honestly, I don¡¯t want to do anything,¡± her eyes darted down to my crotch as though to silently point out my lie. ¡°I just want to go to bed, hopefully be able to sleep at some point, and not ruin our chances at testing this.¡±


    She sighed and looked back at what I assumed was her log book. Her eyes scanned the page for a minute more, and then she set the paper down and turned back to me. ¡°Fine, you can stay here,¡± she said begrudgingly. ¡°But I get the bed, so you can sleep anywhere of your choosing on the floor.¡±


    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± I said, jumping out of the bed. While it wasn¡¯t my favorite arrangement, I could understand it, and I still thought it was much preferable to trying to find a random house to sleep in and hoping that the owner would be fine with it.


    ¡°Now, I¡¯m not sure what to do about your dressing clothes. I assume that¡¯s not usual sleep attire for your time?¡± I shrugged - it wasn¡¯t unusual sleep attire, but it also wasn¡¯t that uncommon to just sleep in your underwear. She frowned slightly, looking me up and down. ¡°Regardless, I suppose it will have to do, as I doubt we have any mens clothes around. Our patrons do tend to take them with them when they leave. And as for myself, there is no way I¡¯ll be able to sleep in a corset.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t sneak a peek if you need to change,¡± I said, throwing both hands over my eyes in an exaggerated gesture to emphasize my statement. ¡°Let me assure you, that¡¯s plenty improper in my time too, at least without an enthusiastic partner.¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s good to know that some things haven¡¯t changed, I suppose. Fine, I guess this is a better solution anyway - if I walked to and from the restroom with an arm full of clothes, some of the girls might start to wonder. You meeting people by falling into our parlor is one thing, but showing up in my bedroom is another. This may be my home, but it¡¯s also my business, and I have a reputation to protect.¡±


    ¡°I totally get it, and I¡¯ll try to make the situation as easy as I can for you. I didn¡¯t ask for this, but I know you didn¡¯t either, and it¡¯s more an intrusion on your life than it is on mine.¡±


    She was silent for a beat, with the only noises in the room being the sound of fabric running against fabric. ¡°I appreciate that,¡± she finally whispered. ¡°I¡¯m so used to anticipating the needs of everyone else; it feels weird to have someone anticipate my needs in return.¡±


    ¡°Well, it seems about the least I can do, considering I¡¯m technically crashing at your house.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fair. You can open your eyes now, if you¡¯d like.¡± I opened my eyes, and Edith was standing there in a white nightdress, holding one of the candles. ¡°If you¡¯re still here in the morning, we¡¯ll have to figure out some other sort of arrangement. I tend to get up before everyone else, so perhaps we can quickly get you downstairs before anyone notices. Your outfit might be something we have to deal with at that point, but if we claim that you¡¯d been drinking, maybe nobody will mention it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s worth a shot. Hopefully I¡¯m back home by then, so we can see if our experiment worked.¡± I turned over onto my stomach, trying to find a comfortable spot. My eyes locked on the mirror at the other side of the room - from it, I could see that Edith was sitting on her bed, looking at me with a faint smile on her face that she had apparently not wanted me to see. It didn¡¯t seem sinister, as though it were just something that she was not used to showing someone. It softened her whole face, and I realized that her job was probably the reason why she kept it to herself - this was not the sort of occupation that one would want to be soft in.¡±


    ¡°Brian, you¡¯ve been so kind thus far, I feel bad making you sleep on the floor. If you want, you can have the other half of the bed. But we¡¯ll make a row of pillows in between us, and no funny business allowed.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, if you¡¯re comfortable with that, I¡¯d love it.¡± I got to my knees and stretched widely. I could see her watching me out of the corner of my eye, as though trying to guess what my next move was going to be. I got to my feet and walked around to the other side of the bed. ¡°No funny business, I promise.¡± I grabbed the pillow from the top of my side (after getting up from the floor, sleeping on a bed with no pillow seemed like a word of improvement regardless) and moved it so that it rested against the small of her back. ¡°If I cross this line, I fully expect to not be able to go back, because you¡¯ve killed me in my sleep.¡±


    Edith laughed, then turned over and pulled the pillow into her stomach. ¡°You¡¯re damn right I would. Now, get in and go to sleep. I¡¯ve got to be up early in the morning to make sure that we don¡¯t need some sort of excuse for why you¡¯re here.¡±


    ¡°Yes Ma¡¯am!¡± I crawled under the covers of the bed, being careful to not get too close to the pillow that protected the space between us. ¡°Sleep well, and I hope I don¡¯t see you in the morning.¡±


    Edith laughed lightly again. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯d go that far, but I do hope you manage to get home tonight. Sleep well.¡±

 Chapter 7

    ¡°And then I woke up back in my bed, with my pillow at my side, and on wrong side of the bed, but otherwise there was no sign that anything had ever happened.¡±


    ¡°And did your ball handkerchief make the trip back with you or not?¡± Charlie¡¯s voice rang out over speakerphone in the empty parlor - I¡¯d gone back to finish the painting, making sure that the paint can was not over my head this time. But I knew that if I didn¡¯t update Charlie on what happened so that he could gloat about his ghost theory, I would never hear the end of it.


    ¡°It did!¡± I held up the handkerchief in my hand - it was old and discolored, which it had not been the night previous. Somehow, although it seemed like it was mere minutes, the handkerchief seemed to have aged in normal time, as though I had had it nestled in my crotch since birth. ¡°I have it right here, if you want to come examine it.¡±


    ¡°As much as I¡¯d love to examine your sweaty ball napkin for clues about the afterlife, I think I¡¯ll pass on this one. But that does prove it¡¯s true, unless you for some reason decided to stuff that in your crotch yourself.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know where I¡¯d even get that old of a handkerchief, honestly. Is that something you¡¯d have to buy in an antique store?¡±


    ¡°Probably more of a museum thing. I don¡¯t think they¡¯re selling a lot of used hankies in the pawn shops nowadays.¡±


    ¡°Hey, you never know what that sort of thing could go for! People have weird fetishes.¡± I dipped the roller brush into the paint and ran it along the wall, finishing up the last open spot. There might need to be another layer of paint eventually, but for now I was happy with the results. ¡°So evidently this is all actually happening and not a complete delusion, which is not the news I was expecting to get today.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not news that most people are prepared to get on any given day,¡± Charlie agreed. ¡°So, are you still interested in going down to the county and seeing what they have on the house? I mean, you basically confirmed it already.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I am - not so much for confirmation, but for more information. I assume there¡¯s got to be some reason why I, after all this time, am the one being transported back in time.¡±


    ¡°I mean, you might have been the first person to grievously injure themselves while in that house, so that might be part of it.¡±


    I chuckled. ¡°There have been so many kids passing through here that I¡¯m sure I¡¯m not the first to drop something on my head. But anyway, I need a shower, and then do you want to head out?¡±


    ¡°Sure, you get ready, and I¡¯ll come pick you up for our day date.¡± I rolled my eyes and ended the call while he was still talking.


    _______


    ¡°I¡¯ll see what records we have for that address.¡± The woman behind the counter had to have been in her 80s at least - she wore tight curls that were so grayed that they were almost white, and what could only be described as a mumu. She pulled her reading glasses down her nose, as though that would help her better read the three lines that we needed for an estate information request. ¡°The downside is, a lot of the houses in that area were either built in the last couple of years, or are so old that the record books can be a bit sketchy on them. You know, in the 1800s, they didn¡¯t keep records like we do now, and even the paper copies that they did have were more easily destroyed.


    ¡°That¡¯s not an issue, I just want to see what is available, because I think it¡¯d be interesting to learn the history of my house.¡±


    ¡°Sure, it¡¯ll just be $10, and then you can sit over there while I see what there is to dig up.¡± I reached into my wallet and handed her the cash, and then Charlie and I went to sit in the waiting room that looked like it¡¯d remained unchanged since the Reagan administration.


    ¡°So, like you were saying,¡± Charlie said, continuing the conversation we¡¯d had in the car on the way over - I¡¯d been updating him with everything Edith had said last night in case he was able to pick up something that I couldn¡¯t, ¡°there are a bunch of thirsty ass ghosts in your house, and they all seem to want you.¡±


    I laughed. ¡°Well, one did, although she might have just been trying to get a paycheck. Not really sure, but Edith did mention that I hadn¡¯t paid her for the time, so that seems more likely to me. I don¡¯t think Edith is interested in that way - I think she¡¯s just more curious about the whole time traveling thing.¡±


    ¡°Dude, she let you sleep in her bed in a whore house.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and the key word there is sleep. We even had a pillow between us so we wouldn¡¯t touch.¡±


    ¡°Man, you were both touching a pillow? Might want to slow down there, your relationship is moving kind of fast.¡± I flipped him off. ¡°So did she say anything about why she thought you might be coming back?¡±


    ¡°She didn¡¯t, no. I think she was just as confused as I am. It seems like this is the first time it¡¯s happened.¡±


    ¡°I guess that¡¯s better than this just being a family thing, where all the men in your family have been getting it on with all the ghost women.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d be annoyed if that was it and they didn¡¯t let me know about it - I would have made sure to bring a condom into the past,¡± I joked.


    ¡°Probably should have anyway - did they even have medicine for STDs at that time, or were you just screwed if you got them? Either way, not sure if ghost syphilis is a treatable thing.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re just a fucking ray of sunshine at all times, aren¡¯t you?¡± I joked, as the old woman returned to the front desk.


    ¡°You know, I try my hardest to light up situations like you getting a blowjob from someone older than our grandparents.¡±


    ¡°Your files are ready!¡± called the old woman. We both got up and walked to the desk. ¡°So, as I suspected, some of the files aren¡¯t in the most readable condition right now, but I¡¯ve included them anyway for good measure. Just make sure you bring them back in good condition - we¡¯ve started digitizing our files, but we haven¡¯t gotten to the old stuff yet.¡±


    Charlie and I thanked the woman, and I scooped up the bulging folder of papers. ¡°Well, you just found your downtime activity for the next three weeks,¡± Charlie jokes, as soon as the woman had gone back to whatever she was doing before we got there.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯ll take that long - I¡¯m assuming most of these aren¡¯t actually about the brothel, and while it would be a little interesting to learn about the guy who built the house and about how my grandfather came to own it, I think those parts will be pretty easy to pass up.¡±


    We headed back to my house and poured the contents of the file over what was my grandfather¡¯s kitchen table (mine now, I suppose, although I didn¡¯t really have a need for one, considering sit down family dinners had gone the way of the past) and started sorting through the contents. As I¡¯d expected, a lot of the information was about the original owner of the house - building permits, licensings, the original purchase order for the land, stuff like that. There were a few items about my family and how we¡¯d come to own the house (as it turns out, I had always assumed that my grandfather bought it, but the deed was actually in my grandmother¡¯s name). After about two hours of sorting documents, we had separated out a relatively small pile of papers that were about the brothel.


    ¡°So, it¡¯s confirmed that her name was Edith,¡± I said, looking over the purchase agreement for the house. ¡°Edith Bowman.¡±


    ¡°Good to know - the next time you see her, you can tell her you know her last name, and that¡¯ll be sure to woo her off her feet.¡± Charlie reclined on one of the dining room chairs, his feet on another. He had a building permit in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other.


    ¡°I¡¯m not trying to woo anyone, you dumbass. I¡¯m just trying to confirm that all of this is really happening.¡±


    ¡°And you didn¡¯t think that the handkerchief was enough for that? Thank God you have a name from a piece of paper, because all of that physical evidence does jack shit.¡±


    ¡°Hey, stuff happens, maybe the handkerchief fell out of the rafters and I didn¡¯t notice or something.¡±


    ¡°True, things do tend to fall out of the rafters and straight onto your balls.¡± I rolled my eyes. I understood his point - after getting tangible evidence that this was all true, coming back and finding a name seemed foolish, but there was something in me that made me feel that I still needed proof. Maybe it was just that, if you go your whole life believing something, it¡¯s hard to suddenly backtrack on all of it. ¡°Well, in case you¡¯re curious, it looks like they used to have a gazebo out back. Must have gotten taken down at some point. Really exciting stuff we have here.¡±


    ¡°I mean, that¡¯s good to know, I can verify that there¡¯s a gazebo next time I go back. If I go back, I guess that is.¡±


    ¡°Are you doubting that it¡¯s going to happen again?¡± Charlie set down the building permit and didn¡¯t pick anything back up, clearly using this line of questioning as an excuse to no longer be looking through papers, and frankly I couldn¡¯t blame him for that. Looking through a bunch of legal documents, especially when they in no way affect you, was not the most thrilling activity. Were it not for Edith herself, I would have stopped five minutes after opening the folder.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say I¡¯m necessarily doubting that I¡¯ll go back,¡± I said slowly, trying to figure out the exact wording for where my head was at. ¡°It¡¯s just that it doesn¡¯t happen every time. If I went back there every time I went to sleep, that¡¯d be one thing. But so far, I¡¯ve been in this house a few weeks and it¡¯s only happened twice - once when I hit my head, and once last night.¡±


    ¡°And nothing in between that?¡±


    ¡°Nothing dream-wise at least. There¡¯s been a few weird noises and such in the house, but at this point, I never know if it¡¯s because there are ghosts in here, or if it¡¯s just because it¡¯s an old house.¡±


    ¡°I would personally go for ghost activity myself, but maybe I¡¯m just an optimist. Okay, so did you do anything similar between last night and the night of the paint can incident? Same sort of schedule, do anything weird, eat a particular food?¡±


    I thought back to the day when I had been hit with the paint can. It seemed like a pretty ordinary day other than that incident. But, I still couldn¡¯t really explain why the paint can had fallen in the first place. Maybe it had just been placed poorly on a step, but I thought I had had it far enough back that it wouldn¡¯t have caused a problem. And then last night, there was the episode with Duke right before I went to bed¡­ ¡°Well, I guess there was something that I couldn¡¯t explain that happened right before each time.¡±


    ¡°You mean like the ghosts were active right before we went to sleep?¡±


    ¡°Something like that,¡± I explained the situation to him, and for the first time since we had gotten back to my place, he seemed interested in what I was saying.


    ¡°That makes so much sense,¡± he said finally, after taking a moment to process all of the information I had just dumped on him. ¡°In order to go back to the ghost world, you need to be in touch with the spirit world here first.¡±


    ¡°That sounds like the smartest dumb thing you¡¯ve said all day.¡± Charlie grinned at me, taking the statement as the compliment it was meant to be. ¡°But I can¡¯t control the ghosts around here, so how do we test your theory? Do I just wait for something to happen and then immediately try to go to sleep?¡±


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°I have a better idea - we can¡¯t control the ghosts, but we can invite them to join us. How about you and I get a seance going tonight? We¡¯ll talk to some ghosts, get our foot in the door, and then we¡¯ll both go to sleep to see if 1) that is actually what can trigger it, and 2) if specific to you, or if anyone in the house can do it. Plus, I¡¯ll stuff some dollars in my pocket, and if all goes well, I can have a good excuse to try out a ghost woman.¡±


    I rolled my eyes at him again. ¡°The great scientific method ruined by some asshole trying to get laid.¡±


    ¡°Trust me,¡± he said, ¡°the scientific method has always been about assholes trying to get laid.


    ____________


    As night rolled around, we moved all the papers from the table and started to get the stuff for the seance set up. Earlier, Charlie and I had run to a couple of stores to get all the equipment we had needed. I set a large mirror (for scrying, apparently) at the edge of the table facing us, then started placing the candles. Charlie got the Ouija board set up. Against the backdrop, the fact that it was very obviously a Hasbro game made it seem out of place, but Charlie assured me that they were all standard.¡±


    ¡°Where did you learn all of this information, anyway,¡± I asked him again, as I fumbled with a match for the candles.


    He shrugged. ¡°Internet, mostly. I love a good ghost hunting show. And since we don¡¯t have time to get any of the equipment, and for some reason the hardware store doesn¡¯t have a true EMF meter we¡¯ve got to make do with what we have.¡± He pulled out a voltage meter pen that he¡¯d gotten at said hardware store and put that on the table next to the Ouija board. While I didn¡¯t think a voltage pen and an EMF meter were close enough to the same thing, I wasn¡¯t about to stop him. Clearly, he knew more about this whole ghost business than I did, as someone who had only occasionally watched a horror movie or two where they¡¯d made an appearance, and I had a feeling that those weren¡¯t going to be the most reliable sources.


    I lit the last candle and then walked over and flipped off the light switch, plunging the room into shadows. Charlie sat in a kitchen chair on one side of the table, gesturing for me to sit on the other side. I did so, and he reached out his hands for mine. I grabbed them, and we sat in silence for a moment. ¡°Is something supposed to happen?¡± I whispered eventually. ¡°In movies, this is always when someone gets thrown across the room or something.¡±


    ¡°Are you wanting to get thrown across the room? Because from what you¡¯ve said, it sounds like Edith is more than willing to do that if you get out of line.¡±


    ¡°I mean, I¡¯d prefer to not be thrown, but I also am hoping that something will happen so that we¡¯re not just spending the night sitting in the dining room in the dark.¡±


    ¡°Well, if it¡¯s haunted, I would hope something would happen. Spirits of this house,¡± he called out. His voice echoed in the darkness, but there was no other sound except the noise of Duke panting at my feet. ¡°We welcome you into this room with us. We welcome you to communicate in whatever way you feel most comfortable. You can blow out the candles, move the planchette on the Ouija board, or even touch us if you feel so inclined. We are here, we are listening, and we are hoping to hear what you have to say.¡±


    When he stopped talking, the room suddenly felt significantly more deafening. I wasn¡¯t sure if that was because of the void that was left from his lack of speech, or if there was something that was oppressing on the room, making it feel dark and heavy. I shuttered, and I felt Duke stir as well. Charlie sat still, unphased and clearly trying to listen, but there was nothing in return.


    ¡°Maybe they just don¡¯t feel like talking today?¡± I said after it had been nearly a full minute of absolute silence. The shadows from the candles danced on the wall, and I turned to watch them, hoping to see any sort of a form that would indicate that we weren¡¯t alone in the room, but nothing moved aside from the two of us.


    ¡°Or maybe they just want to hear from you,¡± he suggested. ¡°You¡¯re the one that they¡¯ve been talking with up until now, after all. Go on, say something and see if they will respond that way.¡±


    I cleared my throat, searching for more time. I wasn¡¯t sure what to say into the darkness - last time I had tried to say something to nothing, it just made me feel cold and empty, and I was certain that the same thing would happen again. ¡°Hello,¡± I finally said, not having come up with a brilliant speech for them. ¡°I¡¯m Brian. We¡¯ve met before - I was the one in the house a couple of weeks ago. You may remember me - I was the one with the giant head wound.¡±


    I paused, straining my ears in an attempt to hear any sound other than the blowing of the wind outside and the huffing of Duke beneath my feet - clearly he was not happy with the situation he was being put into, and I could hardly blame him. I willingly agreed to this, but I didn¡¯t love it either. If the house was already active enough to make me meet up with ghosts when I was asleep, I didn¡¯t want the seance to drag me into that world when I was awake, too.


    After waiting in the dead silence for a while, Charlie said, ¡°Okay, let¡¯s kick this up a notch, should we?¡± He brought his hands onto the table and placed them on the planchette of the Ouija board. ¡°Maybe they just aren¡¯t strong enough today to do this on their own. You were just there last night, so it could be that it takes a couple of days for their energy to replenish.¡±


    I shrugged, and moved my hands to join his. I wasn¡¯t sure where I was on the idea of them needing to replenish their energy - what are they going to do, sleep? - but I also still was going back and forth on what I thought about there being ghosts in general, so compared to that, this didn¡¯t seem like that crazy of a solution. ¡°Hello to anyone in the house,¡± Charlie called out. ¡°If you want to say anything to us, we are here. As we said before, please feel free to use anything that you see before you. We now have our hands on the planchette, if that makes it easier for you to use it. If you would prefer something else, all we ask is that you give us a sign.¡±


    We sat in the darkness, listening to nothing but the sound of the wind howling around us. Had it been so stormy when we had first sat down? I didn¡¯t think so, but the weather changes quickly around here as it is. I watched the planchette in our hands as we waited. I¡¯d seen all the science about them - how it¡¯s really just your unconscious mind moving the piece around the board to whatever you wanted it to say. But the same could really be said about all the ghost equipment we had, or even that the ghost hunting shows had. Ultimately, whether it was a ghost or just a weird quirk of the equipment was left up to the watchers. And in this case, Charlie and I were the watches, trying to interpret the gusts of wind outside as ghost activity.


    ¡°I really don¡¯t think they want to talk today, Charlie,¡± I said, taking my hands off the board. I¡¯d humored the situation for close to 15 minutes at this point, and the planchette hadn¡¯t moved at all, which I thought was strange in general, but I can¡¯t say I¡¯ve used a lot of them in the past.


    ¡°It¡¯s just odd, considering how much has happened to you. And I constantly hear sounds when I¡¯m walking through your house, and today there¡¯s nothing.¡±


    ¡°You probably just can¡¯t hear the sounds of the house settling over the sounds of the storm,¡± I said, nodding my head toward the rain pounding down on the windows. ¡°I know you were planning on sleeping here for the experiment, but you might want to stay here regardless. It looks like it¡¯s getting pretty bad out there.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine, I¡¯ll happily stay in the room where you had your fun first encounter,¡± he joked.¡±


    ¡°I mean, you can, but in this time, that¡¯s currently an office, so you¡¯d be sleeping on the floor.¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°Beggers can¡¯t be choosers, am I right? Best case scenario, I have the night of my life, and worst case scenario, I wake up with a sore back.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s all yours, then,¡± I laughed, and then a thought occurred to me. ¡°Do you think the can even hear us from here?¡±


    Charlie looked at me with an eyebrow cocked in confusion. ¡°Who, the ghosts?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. I mean, this is the dining room, after all, and it¡¯s the middle of the night - nobody¡¯s going to be down here. Everyone is going to be up in their bedrooms, and those are practically on the other side of the house. I know sound carries around here, but I don¡¯t think I could hear sound from the dining room from my bedroom.¡±


    Charlie sat there in silent contemplation for a moment, thinking over my words carefully. ¡°You know, I don¡¯t think that¡¯s how I¡¯ve ever seen it done, but it does make a certain amount of sense. Let¡¯s head up to that office and see if we get anything there.¡±


    ¡°Fine, but I¡¯m not getting all of this set up again. Let¡¯s just take the board, because I think unfortunately, your Hasbro toy is the most reliable thing we have here.¡±


    _________


    ¡°Alright, spirits, let¡¯s try this again!¡± Charlie put his hands on the board, waiting for me to join him.


    ¡°Not just any spirits,¡± I corrected him, ¡°This is Clara¡¯s room. Clara, are you here?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take any spirits that feel like coming to chat whether this was their room or not.¡±


    I joined my hands with Charlie¡¯s on the board, and immediately, this room felt differently than the dining room had. The dining room had felt calm and reasonably tranquil, despite the storm raging outside. Inside this room, though, there was a sense of oppression that I couldn¡¯t quite make sense of. Had it been Clara, she''d been very welcoming the other day, and I assumed that she would feel the same way coming through the veil. Then, a thought occurred to me. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I didn¡¯t get a chance to pay you last time, Clara,¡± I yelled into the darkness. Charlie looked at me curiously, but didn¡¯t interrupt. I took my hands off the planchette and fished my hand into my back pocket to pull out my wallet. I didn¡¯t have a ton of cash on me, but I took the couple of bills that I had, then stood up to put them on the desk. The desk wasn¡¯t there in her time, obviously, but it was the best I could do at the moment.


    The vibe of the room seemed to immediately change - the atmosphere was still dark and window, but the general oppressive nature seemed to fade away with that gesture. By Charlie¡¯s face, I could tell he felt the same way. ¡°Well, that¡¯s¡­unique,¡± he said after a moment of reflection.


    ¡°I guess, I¡¯d be mad if I did a service for someone and they didn¡¯t pay me, either,¡± I admitted with a shrug. ¡°Not that I really had the rules explained to me ahead of time,¡± I jokingly complained to the room. There was obviously no response, but I sat back down and put my hands on the planchette once again. ¡°Maybe it¡¯ll work this time.¡±


    ¡°One way to find out. Clara, if you¡¯re here, or any other spirit that happens to be in this house, could you please give us a sign? You¡¯re welcome to use our hands to move this planchette so you can talk with us, or you can show yourself, or even make a noise. I understand it might be difficult, but I¡¯d appreciate it if you tried.¡±


    What felt like a cool breeze lightly flicked across my neck, and I let out a shiver. Charlie¡¯s eyes immediately focused on me. ¡°What is it, what did you see?¡± he demanded.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t see anything, but I felt¡­I don¡¯t know, it was probably just a breeze or something, but it¡¯s weird that it ended up just on my neck.¡±


    ¡°You felt something touch your neck, in other words.¡±


    ¡°In other words, yeah,¡± I nodded.


    ¡°Clara, if that was you,¡± Charlie shouted, clear excitement in his voice, ¡°we really appreciate it, but we¡¯re going to need some sort of confirmation to prove that it wasn¡¯t just something going on in Brian¡¯s head. Could you please do the same thing to me, or make a sound, or anything to confirm that that was you?¡±


    We waited in silence for a beat, and then by the way Charlie turned, I could tell that we both felt a slightly strong breeze in the room. It came from the hallway, which made me question if it was really coming from the storm outside. The breeze whooshed past us toward the window, and I looked over just in time to see the cash I had laid on the desk flutter for a moment, and then blow off the table onto the floor.


    Charlie jumped up, the excitement tangible in his entire vibe. ¡°We did it!¡± he yelled, pounding his fist in the air. ¡°Let¡¯s go! We managed to make contact with a ghost!¡±


    ¡°Well, we managed to capture a gust of wind at least.¡±


    ¡°A sentient gust of wind that came exactly when we were asking for a sign. I think that¡¯s proof enough. Thank you, Clara! Thank you, house! Thank you, Brian¡¯s grandpa!¡±


    I said on the floor, listening intently to see if there was anything else I could pick up, or if the one gust of wind had been all that was going to happen. I couldn¡¯t hear anything but the sound of the storm outside - it was odd to me that I couldn¡¯t even hear Duke, who had been right outside the door up until this point. ¡°Hold on,¡± I said, getting up. ¡°I don¡¯t know where Duke ran off to, but it¡¯s weird for him to not be here. You keep celebrating, and I¡¯ll find him.¡±


    Charlie ignored me completely as I walked out of the room. I swear, a full apparition could have appeared before him in that moment, and he would have missed it in favor of his celebrations. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and turned on the flashlight. I couldn¡¯t help but get a sort of eerie deja vu feeling from the other night as I turned the corner into the hall - a part of me expected to still be standing there outside of my bedroom, peering into the darkness while trying to discover what had made Duke react like that.


    Speaking of, Duke was not right out in the hallway - I scanned the floor with my light, expecting to find him sound asleep on the floor, but he was nowhere the light was able to reach. ¡°Duke?¡± I yelled into the hallway. There was no sound - no dog footsteps running up the stairs to find me, nor even a shift in movement that told me that he had been asleep elsewhere. Granted, it was hard to tell if that was actually the case, or if I just was unable to hear anything over Charlie¡¯s celebrations.


    I turned to the left, toward my bedroom. I really had no basis in my guess that he was that direction, but there was something that was giving me a gut feeling that that was the correct direction. My steps echoed in the hallway. They felt even louder than Charlie¡¯s chants, but somehow, those felt like they were fading into the distance, even though I knew I was still too close for that to be the case. I told him that sound didn¡¯t travel in this house, I thought to myself. Even just a few steps away, and I already could barely hear him.


    I walked swiftly toward my bedroom, calling Duke¡¯s name periodically as I went. There was a sort of chill that ran through my bones as I walked - he had never been a dog to not come when called, so the fact that I couldn¡¯t even hear him whining anywhere was extremely disconcerting.


    As I walked, the air of contentment from Clara¡¯s room started to fade, and the house started to take on a different tone that I was able to pick up, even through my concern. It wasn¡¯t the same oppressive tone that it¡¯d taken on as of late - it was the same feeling that someone was there watching, but it felt less like it wanted me out, and more like it was watching me out of curiosity. Had I been less concerned for the whereabouts of Duke, I would have been more interested in it, but as is, I didn¡¯t have the headspace to deal with both things at the same time.


    I scanned the floor in front of me as I walked, still hoping to catch a glimpse of him sound asleep. I scanned back and forth in front of me, not seeing a thing, until¡­.I stopped the movement of the flashlight and waved it back. I could have sworn that I saw, just outside of the glimpse of the flashlight, a pair of shoes. When I waved it back, though, there was nothing on the ground. I moved the flashlight up. Nothing there but my bedroom door.


    From behind me, I heard a low growl emerge from the darkness.  I whirled around, and Duke was standing there, staring past me, his hackles raised and his teeth bared. For a moment, I didn¡¯t think anything of his reaction - after all, I was so glad to see him, and while I had no idea how he¡¯d managed to sneak up on me so quietly, I was glad that I was apparently overreacting.


    ¡°Hello,¡± said a voice behind me. It sounded almost like Edith¡¯s voice, although it seemed as though it was strained, like she¡¯d exhausted it. I turned around to face her as Duke¡¯s growls began to get louder. When I turned, though, I again just faced an empty hallway.


    I backed up so that I was level with Duke, then reached down to pet him down his back, smoothing down his fur. As soon as my hand was gone, though, it shot straight back up. ¡°It¡¯s okay, buddy,¡± I said to him, scanning the flashlight in the hallway. ¡°See, there¡¯s nothing here that can hurt you.¡± He seemed uninterested in my commentary, so I turned my attention to the elephant in the room.


    ¡°Edith?¡± I said, my voice nearly at a whisper. ¡°Is that you?¡±


    The silence echoed around me again as I waited for a response. I could have sworn that I¡¯d heard her voice, but now I was second guessing myself. Yes, I was sure there were ghosts in the house, and yes, it only made sense that she was one of them, but there was still a mental block in my mind - she¡¯d been able to talk to me when I went back to her world, but she¡¯d never been able to talk to me here, and as far as I could tell, she had no knowledge of me even being in this house. And yet, I knew what I heard, and I knew that couldn¡¯t just be a coincidence. Maybe a reaction to the stress, but it definitely wasn¡¯t something that I made up.


    ¡°Edith, if you¡¯re here, can you try saying something again?¡± I asked into the darkness. ¡°I know, it must be exhausting, but I need to be sure that I¡¯m not just hearing things. I need to be sure that I¡¯m hearing you. Please, just try.¡± I was unsure why my last words felt almost like a sob, but they rang into the darkness just the same. Duke¡¯s growl echoed through the hallway, muting any sort of small sound that might have been heard. But then, I felt a cold gust of wind blow against my hand. I looked down to see nothing, but I could still feel it, as though there was a small air stream that was centralized only on that 6 inch section of the house. I wanted to believe that it was just the wind outside, somehow managing to sneak its way between the boards of siding outside, but I also knew just how realistic it was. I knew it had to be Edith.


    ¡°Edith, hi,¡± I said, staring at my hand, waiting to see something. My hand grew colder, as though she was squeezing it, but there was no sound. ¡°I¡¯m glad to see you. Well, not see, exactly, but to know you¡¯re here. I¡¯m sorry if we stirred things up, but we just needed to know.¡±


    I knew it was alright with her. Even without her words or being able to see her face, there was something in the room that just exuded the element of calm. I don¡¯t know how she was managing it, but if that was the best way to communicate, then I suppose it¡¯s what we had to work with.


    Duke could sense the change in the room as well - his hackles started to calm down, although he continued to let loose a low growl. I understood - strangers in his house were always a bit of a challenge. I returned my attention back to my hand, back to Edith. I wasn¡¯t sure where to go from there, but I knew that more than anything, I needed to talk to her. With that thought, I started to feel extremely tired, as though willing myself to go and speak with her exactly then. Not now, I thought - Charlie is still in the other room, and I¡¯m not even in my room. And yet, I couldn¡¯t stop it as my vision narrowed and my world faded into darkness around me. What the hell, I thought, I¡¯d figure out the rest later. Now, it was time to talk with Edith.

 Chapter 8

    ¡°In the middle of the hallway? Are you crazy? Someone could see you, and then our reputation would be ruined!¡± I opened my eyes and saw the hallway was now dimly lit with a gas lamp. The rain seemed to have stopped, or perhaps it was never raining here. I followed the gas lamp past the hand holding it, up the slender arm, and to Edith¡¯s face. She didn¡¯t look as excited to see me as I was to see her - instead, she looked annoyed at me. ¡°Come on, get up!¡± she hissed. I felt a pull on my left arm, and I looked over to see that she was indeed still holding onto it. I hadn¡¯t imagined the touch of her, and an immediate sense of relief flooded over me. I got up, leaning into the arm to pretend that she was actually helping me up. ¡°We¡¯ve got to get you into my room,¡± she said, her voice such a whisper that I barely caught it myself. ¡°Come on, in here.¡±


    Edith pulled me a couple of feet down the hall and through the door to my bedroom, which I suppose was also her bedroom. Then, she closed the door so fast that I was sure it was going to slam on us. She stopped it last second, though, and closed it softly, then turned toward me. She was dressed differently than she had been last time - she was already in her nightgown, and this time, since I was in arguably a slightly less state of shock, I was able to focus on it a bit more. It was a white shift that ran to just past her knees, and was somehow both reasonably shapeless and managed to the curve of her breasts and hips. The neckline was low enough that I could almost see her cleavage if I wanted to, but my eyes flicked back up to her face, and the annoyance there snapped me back to my senses.


    ¡°What on Earth do you think you¡¯re doing showing up in the middle of the hallway when it¡¯s not even that late at night?¡± she asked. It was clear that she was upset about that, but there was something else behind her expression. It felt like, even through her annoyance, she was as happy to see me as I was to see her.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to fall asleep in the middle of the hallway,¡± I explained. ¡°In fact, I¡¯m not sure how I did - I wasn¡¯t even that tired. But then I felt you there, and I got so relaxed and -¡±


    ¡°Wait, you felt that?¡± she asked, a shocked look appearing on her face.


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know you could feel that too,¡± she said, a small blush starting to appear on her face. ¡°I felt something in the hallway, so I said hello, and then I thought I could hear you talking back to me faintly, and I felt a cold spot on my hand, so I just went for it, hoping it was you, and -¡± she stopped mid-sentence, her blush intensifying as she realized what she had said. ¡°I mean, hoping it was you so that it was someone I was familiar with. We don¡¯t want other types of ghosts around here, they¡¯ll scare off the customers, and -¡±


    She started to trail off, so I took a step forward and grabbed her hand in mine the same way it had been when she was still appearing as a ghost. She stopped silent and looked down at it, then looked back up at me. ¡°I¡¯m happy to see you too, Edith,¡± I whispered to her.


    Her face turned beet red and she promptly turned to face away from me but kept her hand in mine. ¡°This is not the day for that, Brian. There are other things that need to be attended to - first, there was a sound in the dining room, but that had gone by the time I went to investigate, and then Clara said she heard something, but then found this weird currency sitting on the ground in her room -¡±


    ¡°All us,¡± I interrupted her. ¡°We were trying to hold a seance to see if we could discover ghost energy on our side, and we didn¡¯t get a ton, but apparently we were being heard from over here.¡± I made a mental note to tell Charlie - he would be ecstatic that his methods were actually working.


    ¡°That was you?¡± she asked, and I nodded. Her face shifted from embarrassment to a state of annoyance. ¡°Well, you had everyone running around in a tizzy! You¡¯re lucky that somehow, no one saw you. Most of the women are out running around, trying to figure out what¡¯s going on.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry to cause that much confusion. We really didn¡¯t know, but we were trying to force a way for me to get to come see you. After all, the last two times I was here, there was some sort of activity right before I went to sleep, and that was the only way we could think to test if I was able to bring something back with me.¡±


    ¡°And you didn¡¯t think to then just wait until the next time you notice something and then grab something before you headed to bed?¡± she asked exasperated.


    I waited for a minute, letting the idea wash over me. ¡°I honestly had not,¡± I replied, deciding that it was better to be truthful than to preserve my ego in this circumstance.


    Edith sighed. ¡°And, did it work?  Did you bring something back with you?¡±


    I was frankly so excited to see Edith that I hadn¡¯t thought to check. But my cell phone was in my hand, so I handed it to her. She looked it over, turning it upside down and examining every inch of it. ¡°What is this supposed to be? It¡¯s just a little black box.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a cell phone - like a portable thing to call people with, but it¡¯s also connected to the internet.¡± I reached out my hand and she placed the phone back in it. I tried to unlock the screen, but nothing happened. I hit the power, and the screen just stayed black. ¡°Or,¡± I corrected myself, ¡°that¡¯s what it does when I¡¯m in my time. I imagined that the internet wouldn¡¯t work here, since it¡¯s not like you¡¯re really set up for that, but I kind of figured it would have still turned on.¡±


    ¡°Regardless, you brought it with you,¡± she said absently, her mind clearly lost in thought. ¡°And the handkerchief? Did you manage to bring that with you?¡±


    ¡°I did! It was odd, though - when I woke up, it seemed like an antique. I¡¯m not sure if it aged with me, or if it was replaced with one from my time, but it clearly wasn¡¯t the same.¡±


    ¡°Fascinating,¡± she mused. ¡°But nothing is wrong with your box, save that it doesn¡¯t have power?¡±


    ¡°Right, it seems fine. Definitely didn¡¯t age at all.¡± She reached her hand out for it again, and I handed it to her. She turned it over in her hands examining it. For someone who wasn¡¯t yet born when it was created, she seemed to have a basic knowledge of it - she touched carefully on the glass of the screen, then tried pressing all of the buttons.


    ¡°And your friend that you were doing the seance with, where did he end up?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not 100% sure,¡± I answered. She handed me back my phone, and I put it into my pocket so that I wouldn¡¯t forget it in the past - hopefully not turning on was just a temporary problem. ¡°I assume he¡¯s still in Clara¡¯s room, since that¡¯s where we got the most activity. We were trying an experiment to see if ghost activity triggered him to come into this world as well, or if it was something that only happened to me.¡±


    ¡°A worthwhile experiment,¡± Edith agreed, nodding her head. ¡°Although I suppose if he does arrive, we¡¯ll have quite a mess to deal with.¡±


    ¡°Maybe, but he seemed to be the most interested in, well, some of the services that I partook in, so I have a feeling he might be a little distracted if he comes here.¡±


    ¡°Ah, well then, Clara¡¯s room is the perfect place for him to be showing up tonight,¡± she said with a mischievous smile.


    ¡°Oh, is she the greeter of the newcomers,¡± I joked back. That would make sense as to why she was so eager to take me in, even with a head wound.


    ¡°Of sorts,¡¯¡± she agreed. She walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed. My eyes followed her there, wondering if she was going to pull out something else to show me, but instead she just looked exhausted. That made sense to me - I¡¯m sure she got about as good of sleep as I did last night, which is not much, plus she actually had to tend to the house yesterday. ¡°I would say Clara is generally one of our most eager workers, maybe tied with Alice. Clara does have a thing for brunette¡¯s though,¡± she said, gesturing at my messy brown hair.


    ¡°How many people live here in general?¡± I asked. I looked beside her on the bed, thinking about sitting down next to her. She must have seen my eyes, because she gestured for me to take a seat. I swiftly walked over and sat down, facing her as best I could with us both being on that side of the bed. I turned more towards her, pulling my knee onto the bed so that I could better see her expressions. My knee grazed the side of her leg as I moved, pulling her nightgown up about an inch. She looked down to notice the moment, but didn¡¯t move to fix it.


    ¡°There are usually 11 women, not including myself,¡± she answered after a beat. ¡°That¡¯s a bit of a difficult question to answer, though. Women have come and gone through the years, so the number fluctuates a bit. There¡¯s usually quite a few customers who stay the night as well, although one would argue that they¡¯re not living here per say.¡±


    ¡°I certainly hope they¡¯re not, or that would probably make your job a lot harder,¡± I said with a chuckle. ¡°Still, that must be quite the job to keep track of everyone.¡±


    ¡°As well as do all the cooking and cleaning for them,¡± she agreed. ¡°And making sure they actually get their money and/or keep out those people who don¡¯t want to pay.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like one hell of a job.¡±


    ¡°It can be some days, but you¡¯ve got to be tough if you want to make money as a woman. Marrying rich has never been in my cards, since I¡¯d rather just try to make it on my own than marry any of the men who walk through here. Most of them are abusive assholes, and the rest are already married, but just trying to get free services.¡±


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    I nodded, as though I knew anything about the type of work she did. Part of me felt like we should be keeping on the subject of my getting here, but there was admittedly a part of me that just wanted to know more about the house. No, not really about the house - about Edith. I had to admit, there was something that fascinated me about her in general, and it wasn¡¯t just the fact that she was a ghost in my house. ¡°So, is that why you ended up in this business, then? You didn¡¯t want to get married, but you wanted to be free?¡±


    ¡°Mostly,¡± she agreed. She also shifted her position to face me, her nightgown rubbing against my pant leg as she moved. ¡°There just aren¡¯t a lot of places for a woman in this world, and I didn¡¯t feel like I fit into any of them until I found this line of work. So, I worked at someone else¡¯s house until I could earn enough money to buy my own.¡±


    ¡°And now you get to keep track of everyone else.¡±


    She nodded. ¡°It¡¯s a lot harder work, mind, but I feel like it suits me better.¡±


    I nodded, searching for something else to say, when a sudden knock rang out on the door. A voice from outside, one that I didn¡¯t recognize, called out ¡°Edith? Can I come in for a word?¡±


    Edith jumped up from the bed and smoothed out her nightgown. ¡°Just a minute!¡± she called out, and then turned toward me. ¡°I don¡¯t think there¡¯s any getting you out of here,¡± she whispered. ¡°I think you¡¯ve got to find some place to hide.¡±


    ¡°In the closet, maybe?¡± I suggested.


    She shook her head. ¡°Most of the time that Alice wants to talk to me, it¡¯s about clothing advice, and I think she would be suspicious if I didn¡¯t let her into my closet. Under the bed, maybe, if you can be inconspicuous enough?¡±


    I nodded and rolled off the bed onto the floor, deftly scooting myself under the bed. It would be a tight squeeze, but that might make it easier for me to not move around. Edith sat quietly while I hide, assumedly watching to make sure no part of me was exposed, and then walked over to the door and opened it. ¡°Sorry to keep you waiting, I was getting changed for the night,¡± Edith said.


    ¡°Oh, I thought you already had your night clothes on when you were helping us look for the weird noise?¡± she said. I could only see her ankles as she walked, but I watched her walk toward me and ultimately, sit on the bed. Edith did the same, and I was relieved that, while I could feel a slight pressure from two people sitting directly above me, the bed frame that seemed to be old even at that time seemed to be sturdy enough to hold.


    ¡°I did, but while we were searching, I ended up with some dirt upon the bottom of my dress, so I changed to a different one. Can¡¯t have the bedsheets getting messy, you know.¡±


    ¡°I understand,¡± the woman said, and then as Edith had predicted, her conversation switched to a matter of clothing. Since that was something that I was not particularly interested in, I took to looking around what little surroundings I could see from my position. There was only hardwood here, whereas in my time, there was carpet covering the floor. I wondered if the original hardwood was under the carpet. If so, it could be nice to tear it out. Around the only other change from my time was the old paint on the walls - in this room, you could see that it badly needed a new coat. That made sense to me - as this was somewhere where the guests would not normally go, one would assume that it would go into disrepair the quickest. I had a fleeting thought that I could offer to paint it for her, but I pushed that out of my mind. While for some reason, I did have quite a fondness for this time, I didn¡¯t need to be staying here any longer than necessary.


    My eyes turned toward the women¡¯s ankles. Alice¡¯s were notably different than Edith¡¯s - Alice¡¯s were dainty and petite, like she¡¯d worked hard to move as little in her life as possible. Edith¡¯s weren¡¯t large, but they seemed sturdy yet feminine. I looked at the curves of them, having to stop myself from reaching out to run my finger along them.


    What the fuck, brain, I thought to myself. This is a ghost, and we¡¯re in ghost time. There¡¯s a ton of shit you still need to figure out. Can you at least keep the horniness levels to a minimum?


    No, I didn¡¯t think I was going to be able to lower the horniness levels, but luckily Alice and Edith both stood up, and I saw them walking toward the door. I quietly let out a long breath that I didn¡¯t know I was holding. I wasn¡¯t even sure why I was so invested in not getting caught - if we did, it wouldn¡¯t do anything to me, but at the same time, I didn¡¯t want Edith¡¯s reputation to be tarnished because of me. While, from the little I know about them, it seemed like the other women in the house would be forgiving of that sort of thing, I couldn¡¯t be positive. Regardless, Edith didn¡¯t want the secret out, and that was good enough for me. She walked back over toward my side of the room. ¡°You can get out now if you want. Although if you¡¯re having a great time under the bed, don¡¯t let me stop you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not!¡± I said indignantly.


    She giggled lightly. ¡°I know - if you¡¯ve been around this house for long enough, you start to recognize the sounds.¡± She reached down to help me up, and I took her hand, holding it a beat longer than necessary. She raised her eyebrow at me, but didn¡¯t comment.


    ¡°So, we¡¯re in the clear?¡±


    ¡°Hopefully. Usually the women don¡¯t bother me too late into the night, unless there¡¯s someone being rowdy who needs an escort out of here. Tonight, we just have a bunch of the usuals, and they don¡¯t cause us too much trouble.¡±


    ¡°Glad to hear it,¡± I replied.


    She nodded, then folded back the covers of the bed and slid herself in. When I didn¡¯t move right away, she cocked her eyebrow at me - I had to admit, I found that trait pretty endearing, as it was something that I hadn¡¯t run into in a woman for a long time. ¡°Are you going to come to bed or not?¡± she finally asked.


    ¡°I just wanted to make sure I had permission,¡± I answered with a shrug, walking over to the other side of the bed and crawling under the covers as well. I couldn¡¯t help but notice that she made no comment about having a pillow between us this time, and I wasn¡¯t about to be the one to bring it up.


    ¡°Well, you seemed to be able to behave yourself fine last time,¡± she joked, rolling to face my direction. I rolled to face her in kind. The bed was small, and though we both fit easily, our faces ended up no more than 6 inches apart.


    I stared into her eyes - they were a sharp blue, almost piercing, that matched her personality perfectly. ¡°Of course I did. Seems only right to show you some respect, doesn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d be impressed by the number of people who don¡¯t,¡± she answered solemnly. ¡°But not you. Is that some sort of a future thing?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Maybe just a person by person basis,¡±I admitted.


    She chuckled lightly. ¡°Well, I¡¯m glad it¡¯s you that I found in my room, then. And I¡¯m actually glad to see you again, which is not something that I was expecting.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m glad to be here again, too,¡± I admitted. ¡°So what do we do with that?¡±


    Edith reached out and placed her hand on my chest. I could feel the warmth of her hand through my shirt, and it made me want to lean into it, but I could tell from the gesture that that was not what she was aiming for. ¡°I think for now, we can¡¯t let anyone know about this, just to keep the situation safe. Other than your friend, of course - I assume you think he¡¯s trustworthy?¡± I nodded. ¡°And I won¡¯t tell anyone that you¡¯re here. I have to keep my reputation spotless, because that¡¯s what about half of this business is built on.¡±


    ¡°I understand,¡± I responded. And I did understand it - at her time, a woman having a man in her bed would be a huge scandal if she wasn¡¯t listing herself as a working girl in the brothel. Her customers might not be too thrilled if that situation were to change and she was still not offering herself to them.


    ¡°Good. Then while you¡¯re here, you won¡¯t leave this room except to use the washroom, and if someone sees you at that time, you can just say you¡¯re, oh, I don¡¯t know, helping me line up my finances or something.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m clearly the best auditor that this town has ever seen,¡± I agreed.


    Her eyes traveled down my chest and to my waistline, her lips growing into a cocked smile. ¡°Yes, in that outfit, you might just be odd enough for that lie to work.¡±


    I smiled at her joke, and her eyes returned to my face, landing on my lips. I scooted forward an inch, to let her know I was willing to kiss her, but wasn¡¯t going to make the first move if she wasn¡¯t comfortable with it. Her smile turned into a frown of contemplation for a moment, trying to figure out what she wanted to do. ¡°Oh, fuck it,¡± she muttered to herself. She pushed herself forward so that her lips met mine. She tasted faintly of wine, as though she¡¯d been drinking some right before I¡¯d arrived (which might explain her more relaxed nature tonight, I realized). I reached over and pulled her closer to me, our bodies touching through the sheet and our several layers of clothing, but I would still feel the warmth radiating from her. And she, well, she could probably feel my cock starting to harden as we kissed.


    She broke off after about a minute, gasping for air. I reached over and brushed the hair out of her eyes. ¡°You okay,¡± I asked, looking into her piercing blue eyes. ¡°I¡¯m happy to continue, but this is all up to you and what you¡¯re comfortable with.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m okay,¡± she said with a smile. ¡°It¡¯s just been a while since I¡¯ve been with someone that I actually had any interest with. Much less someone so¡­¡± she faded off, running her hand down my chest.


    ¡°Well then, we might as well make it better,¡± I said. I sat up and pulled my shirt over my head. She watched me with a clear hint of anxiety in her eyes, but I just threw my shirt to the side and laid on my back, pulling her hand to my chest. She looked visibly relieved for a moment, but then a hunger grew in her eyes as she traced the shapes of my chest and stomach. I admit that I wasn¡¯t in the absolute best shape, but apparently I must have been better than she was used to.


    I swooped my hand under her and pulled her up onto my chest. She looked confused for a moment, her eyes widening, and then when she realized that was all I was doing, she relaxed, letting loose a huge smile. She placed both of her hands on my chest, using them for stabilization as she flipped her leg over me into a straddle. ¡°You future boys really like the lady to do all of the work, don¡¯t you?¡± she joked.


    ¡°I mean, I don¡¯t mind it,¡± I said with a laugh. She rolled her eyes and ran her hands down my chest, stopping right at my waistline. She couldn¡¯t go any further regardless, as her seated form was sitting directly on top of my package. My cock, now as fully erect as it could be while still in pants, twitched at the thought. All that separated it from her was a few layers of clothing, and that was a fact that I was acutely aware of.


    She looked down and smiled, apparently well able to feel the movement of my cock against her. Slowly, teasingly, she started grinding slightly, her eyes locking back on me. ¡°Oh, so you¡¯re having a good time, I see.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I managed to gasp, before Edith swooped down, locking her lips on mine. Her tongue slid its way into my mouth, exploring every corner. I reciprocated, winding my tongue around hers in a twisting dance. My hands, which I hadn¡¯t even remembered putting onto her hips, worked their way upward, landing on her chest. I felt her hand move to greet mine, and I froze for a moment, thinking I¡¯d gone too far, but her hand squeezed on mine, clearly happy that it was there. I squeezed the perky mound of flesh, feeling the nipple grind into my hand as she squirmed about.


    Edith sat up suddenly, jerking me to reality for a moment. She swept her nightgown over her head, exposing her bare flesh underneath. Her hairy mound writhed against the crotch of my pants, and I felt my cock ready to burst from my jeans at any moment. My hands reached up to her breasts again, and I groaned at the pleasure of flesh on flesh as they filled my hand. I pinched her nipples lightly, twisting them around in my hand as she mewled. Her hands reached down to my belt, fumbling with the unfamiliar clasp. After what felt like forever, though, she was unable to undo them, and she slid off to the side so that she was able to run down the zipper. I shuttered as her hands passed over my cock, already rock hard from all of our fun.


    I quickly helped to push my pants off, noticing her stare hungrily at my cock as it freed itself of its pants prison, and then I laid back, happy to let her decide what she wanted to make of it. She stared for a beat, as though deciding whether this was ultimately the right move for her reputation, then swiftly grabbed my cock in one hand. She rubbed the length of it, paying special attention to the head, as though it were an experiment that she was trying to figure out. I moaned in pleasure and leaned up on my elbows to get a better view. When she saw me looking, she smiled, and swiftly replaced her hands with her mouth. With her other hand, she reached up and slowly rubbed my balls in slow circles, as though trying to coax them to let go of their fluids faster.


    The feeling of her hot, wet mouth around me, her fingertips on my balls working in sync with her lips, and the taboo nature of having to hide the entire situation added up quickly. She was barely five strokes in before I started to feel the pressure mounting in the pit of my stomach, knowing that I was about to cum. ¡°Edith,¡± I moaned, ¡°I¡­¡±


    I couldn¡¯t finish the sentence, but she let out a quick ¡°mmhmm¡± to let me know that she understood. She didn¡¯t move her mouth from me, though, as I felt the pressure come to a head. Then, the explosion, as I spilled my seed directly into her mouth. I watched, although not fully in my head out of the bliss of the moment, as she stroked down my shaft quickly once more, as though to get every last drop, then removed her head from my still engorged cock and quickly swallowed what she had received.


    I fell back onto the bed, panting heavily, and Edith crawled up to lay next to me, looking content with herself. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I panted out, ¡°that I couldn¡¯t last longer. You¡¯re just so -¡±


    ¡°No, you¡¯re fine, I know I¡¯m good at what I do,¡± she bragged. ¡°Besides, it¡¯s been too long since I¡¯ve had the taste of cum in my mouth.¡± Had I been a younger man, I think my cock would have stood up, ready for a second round, just at that. ¡°But if you¡¯re really sorry about it, you can always make it up to me later. Or next time you show up, I suppose,¡± she said, clearly noticing me already starting to nod off.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to go yet,¡± I complained, trying to fight off the automatic tiredness that always happened after sex. ¡°It feels like I was just starting to get to know you. And this,¡± I said, gesturing up and down her body, ¡°is an excellent perk that I was definitely not expecting when I showed up today.¡±


    She giggled, clearly pleased with her own work. ¡°Well, next time you come around we¡¯ll just have to do it again, then. And we¡¯ll have plenty of time to get to know each other - after all, apparently death doesn¡¯t stop us, so time won¡¯t either. Now, go to sleep - I think we both need our rest after that.

 Chapter 9

    I jumped out of bed at the sound of something clattering to the floor right outside of my bedroom door. I was naked - luckily, my clothes seemed to have come back with me, as they were lying on the floor next to the bed. I stepped out from under the covers and pulled on my pants quickly (it was a bit difficult - even after all the fun with Edith last night, I still seemed to have raging morning wood), and reached into my pocket to pull out my phone. It was still in there, and I breathed a sigh of relief as I went to turn on my flashlight, but my screen wouldn¡¯t turn on. Great, I thought, all of the time travel had broken my phone after all. I slid it into my pocket - I would figure it out later.


    The room was fairly dark, but luckily the moon was bright enough to allow me to possibly move around the boxes that still littered the floor. I walked to the door and put my ear to it. It was hard to hear anything through - there were a lot of original things in this house, and the door seemed to be one of them, as it was heavy enough to clearly be made of solid wood. Still, I could hear what sounded like some movement outside.


    I turned the knob slightly, prepared to take on whatever was on the other side of that door. I peered my eyes through the crack and was immediately blinded by a flashlight beam straight to my face.


    ¡°There you are!¡± Charlie said, sounding relieved. ¡°I peeked in your room earlier and I swear I didn¡¯t see you, but you must have been hiding amongst the blankets or something. Dude, why did you leave? We were just starting to get somewhere, and then I celebrate for like a half a second, turn around, and you¡¯re gone. I haven¡¯t gotten anything else since then, either, so I think it¡¯s a slow night.¡±


    ¡°Or they just don¡¯t like you,¡± I said, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.


    Charlie¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Did you get something else? Man, I knew I shouldn¡¯t have let you wander off, now I got to miss all of the good stuff.¡±


    ¡°I was looking for Duke,¡± I explained. ¡°And when I found him, I also saw some shoes, heard Edith¡¯s voice, and felt someone grab my hand.¡±


    ¡°The ghost hunting trifecta!¡± he said, clearly still celebrating the fact that his idea worked out. ¡°And you didn¡¯t immediately come to grab me?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t,¡± I admitted. ¡°I actually kind of fell asleep immediately, right where I was standing. Not sure why, I¡¯ve never done that before in my life.¡±


    ¡°Maybe just the ghosts calling you to come visit them?¡± he suggested. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s not something that¡¯s well documented in the ghost hunting world, but I would say that a vast majority of this is not well documented in the ghost hunting world.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think she was inherently beckoning me to visit, considering she seemed pretty annoyed when I showed up in the middle of the hallway,¡± I admitted.


    ¡°Ahh, so a ghost fight instead of ghost action?¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t go so far as to say that,¡± I said with a smile, remembering the feel of her mouth on me. I could feel my cock start to twitch at just the memory of it, but I reminded myself that now was not the time.


    ¡°Really? Sweet! God, you¡¯re getting the most action out of any of us, both in ghost and laid forms, and there¡¯s no proof for any of it!¡±


    ¡°Well, much like most ghostly things, a lot of it doesn¡¯t involve proof. Most ghost things involve just belief.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s some post nut clarity if I¡¯ve ever seen it,¡± he said, punching me lightly on the shoulder. ¡°Well, after all of that, I¡¯m not tired. Are you tired?¡± I shook my head. ¡°Great - there¡¯s this little diner up the road that¡¯s open 24/7. I could really use some good pancakes right about now.


    ___________


    A half hour later, we were sitting in the diner. There was a giant stack of pancakes in front of Charlie. I had opted for some scrambled eggs and lots of black coffee. The diner looked like it had been dropped from the 70s, and I¡¯m sure that was part of the appeal of it - wood panel and formica was everywhere, and they complimented the pale green walls nicely. Our waitress was a woman who looked and sounded like she had smoked 5 packs a day for the last 20 years, and she had the menu memorized well enough that I believed she had been working here for every one of them. With Charlie mostly busy devouring his pancakes, it seemed like the perfect place for me to digest what had happened.


    My phone didn¡¯t seem to be completely destroyed, as I had initially feared. In fact, it looked to be in the exact same condition it had been, except for a dead battery. I had it charging on a charge hooked to a plug in below our table, and after about 10 minutes of charging, it had turned on. Not sure why it was quite that dead, but at least it seemed to be functioning alright now.


    My mind wasn¡¯t all that interested in the semantics of what had happened, though. My mind kept drifting back to thoughts of Edith - how she looked, how she smelled, how she had smiled at all of my stupid jokes. Mostly, how she had looked when she was riding me. I was very lucky that we were seated at a booth, and I had a feeling that we were going to be sitting there for quite some time if I couldn¡¯t drag my mind away from the expressions of pleasure on her face.


    There was something about Edith that I couldn¡¯t quite put my finger on. And no, it wasn¡¯t just the fact that she was a ghost - I had considered that, but ultimately, when I was there in her time, she didn¡¯t feel like a ghost to me. I was able to feel the fullness of her body and the warmth coming off of her. When I was there, she felt as alive as I was, so it ultimately didn¡¯t bother me. Made it a bit harder to go on dates, but if you just thought of it like a really long distance relationship, we could make it work.


    I stopped my hand in mid movement, a small pile of eggs dropping back onto the plate. Charlie looked at me curiously, but I ignored him. That was what was feeling different, I realized, not sure how to handle it. I¡¯m not saying that I had amazing game, but I¡¯d slept with plenty of women up to this point, and in situations like this, you tend to fuck them, think about the sensations perhaps for a couple of days (unless they¡¯re fantastic in bed, in which case it might be a while longer than a few days), and then you just move on with your life. I had never before slept with someone on a random night and started thinking about it like a relationship. I mean, yeah, I knew I had a definite attraction to Edith - I think that much was obvious to anyone that I had talked to about her. She was gorgeous and strong and funny and ambitious and beautiful in a way that I had never seen before, and damn it. I was starting to catch feelings for this woman who died long before I had ever lived, and that was just not an okay situation.


    ¡°You okay, buddy?¡± Charlie asked, after my fork had been hanging still in midair for a beat too long.


    ¡°Yeah, I just had a realization,¡± I muttered.


    ¡°Is it about how awesome it is that you¡¯re able to travel through time and bang a variety of ghosts? Because yeah, I¡¯ve been having that same thought since you told me about it. It¡¯s so wild.¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s not that,¡± I said, shaking my head, trying to clear it. ¡°It¡¯s about Edith.¡±


    ¡°Oh, how you¡¯re madly, irrevocably in love with her?¡± he let out with a chuckle. I stared at him, wondering if, instead of being transported back in time, he grew the ability to read my mind. ¡°Yeah, I know - you talk about her better than I¡¯ve talked about some of my girlfriends in the past,¡± he said with a shrug.


    ¡°And you didn¡¯t think to mention it to me at all?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a big boy, you can figure out your feelings by yourself. Besides, what good would it do? You¡¯ve got feelings for a ghost, and that¡¯s really awesome, because that means ghosts exist, but we all know there are a ton of difficulties that surround that. You¡¯re from totally different worlds, and not even on a stereotypical ¡®you¡¯re from the wrong side of the tracks¡¯ sort of way.¡±


    He was totally right - Charlie had a weird way of thinking about the world at times, but it usually led him to the right conclusion more often than my way of thinking did. Edith was great, but she was from a different time. She was dead long before I was born, and there was no getting around that. Plus, I could only go to her time, and it¡¯s not like we could exactly go on dates around there without her reputation being in question. We could talk and we could fuck, and that was about it. It was like the ultimate long distance relationship, except with more regular physical intimacy and even more barriers to date night. But still, I couldn¡¯t help the butterflies that appeared in my stomach every time I had a thought about her. Brains are often our own worst enemies, weren¡¯t they?


    Charlie pushed the last huge bite of pancake into his mouth, then dabbed at his chin with a paper napkin. ¡°Now, are you going to finish your breakfast, or am I going to finish it for you? Some of us haven¡¯t slept, you know. The pancakes are hitting me hard, and while this is a lovely establishment, I¡¯d rather not fall asleep here.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, we can go, I don¡¯t think I want the rest of this,¡± I said, pushing my plate forward. Charlie happily grabbed it to finish up the last few bites before we headed out.


    _____________


    The rest of the night was unfortunately very calm. I had been hoping that, if I went back to sleep, I¡¯d get to go back to the brothel, but I just woke up with a face full of sunlight in the same bed. On the plus side, as Charlie realized, it proved our theory that I was only able to go back right after I¡¯d seen some sort of activity. While it wasn¡¯t exactly the news I wanted, it was at least nice to be able to plan things. Plus, now that I knew a seance worked, I was eager to try one on my own, to see if I could bring myself back whenever I wanted to.


    Charlie had a similar result to my last nap during his sleep, and he was very disappointed by that. I could see why - he was always the person who was more interested in ghosts, and he was the one coming up with the ways for me to be able to see them. And, knowing Charlie, frankly he was probably interested in a trip to the brothel, especially when, as far as we know, it had no effect on your regular life. After Charlie had posed the question as to whether I was able to get STDs from a ghost, I¡¯d been carefully watching myself to make sure no symptoms showed up - I wasn¡¯t sure what kind of medicine or testing they even had in those days, so it seemed like a fairly likely possibility to me, but nothing had occurred, so Charlie assumed that meant that he would be in the clear. But, unfortunately, apparently I was the only one able to go back.


    ¡°Or maybe it just timed out or something,¡± Charlie suggested, trying to come up with any reason why he wouldn¡¯t have been brought back. ¡°I mean, you always fell asleep pretty quickly after seeing a ghost, but mine was a couple of hours later. Maybe it needs to be immediate?¡±


    I shrugged. I could try to pretend that I knew what was going on all the I wanted, but in the end, I knew I was just making guesses about it. If anyone knew anything, it would be Charlie. ¡°It¡¯s worth a shot, I suppose. You¡¯re welcome to stay the night again tonight, and we can do another seance and then take a shot of melatonin or something.¡±


    Charlie snorted a laugh. ¡°That eager to get back to your beloved Edith?¡± he joked, and I rolled my eyes at him. ¡°Nah, I¡¯ve got to work tomorrow, and I don¡¯t want my ghost puss interrupted by the sound of an alarm clock, if that¡¯s even how it would work. Lots of experiments to try. Next day I¡¯m free, though, I¡¯m going to hit you up.¡±


    We had agreed on that, and Charlie had went back home to do whatever it was that Charlie did when he was neither at work nor bugging me. We¡¯d been friends for years, and Charlie was always on some new hobby, so it was hard to keep track of whatever was peaking his interest at this exact moment.


    As soon as Charlie left, I wanted to go try out a seance of my own. Not that I was that eager to go back - not that I wasn¡¯t, either, it just wasn¡¯t the main goal. I mostly wanted to know if there was a way that I could talk to Edith from this side - I didn¡¯t really understand the Ouija board idea, but it would be great if it would allow me to have a conversation with her so that we both weren¡¯t tied down to just our normal sleep times. I knew that I felt like I had hardly slept when I woke up from my time with her, and clearly she didn¡¯t sleep either, which definitely put a damper on things. And I didn¡¯t want to go during the middle of the day - not only would that mean that there was a greater likelihood of people seeing me and figuring out what was going on, but she also wouldn¡¯t be able to get her work done if I was there distracting her. And one of the few things that I knew about her was that her work was the most important thing to her, and I didn¡¯t want to distract her from that fact.


    Instead, I decided that I would focus on things in my own life that didn¡¯t revolve around her. For instance, I wanted to remove the shutters that kept banging open and closed in the middle of the night. Shutters were probably an important thing when this house was built, but it¡¯s not like we lived in a hurricane zone - if anything, they were just an annoying eyesort at this point, so I wanted them to go. It crossed my mind that I¡¯d have to get on and off a ladder multiple times in order to remove them, and my mind thought back to the first time I¡¯d gotten to encounter Edith, back when I was painting. Nope, I thought to myself, we¡¯re not staying on that track all day. It¡¯s time to focus and get things done.


    I set to work removing the shutters one by one. It was hard, sweaty work, but it felt nice to be able to complete a task around my house. It was clear that the shutters had been there for a long time - maybe they were even there when Edith was around. I wasn¡¯t sure - I¡¯d have to ask her the next time I got to see her. But while some of the siding around them was starting to show signs of wear (I made a mental note to myself that I¡¯d need to replace that sooner than later as well, which I wasn¡¯t looking forward to doing in a house this size), the siding and paneling behind the wooden shutters was looking pristine. It almost made the house look worse, but hey, I thought, maybe the outside just needed a coat of paint to hide it all, as well.


    The more time I had spent in the house, the more it became evident that my grandfather had not taken the best care of it in his old age. Even the gutters had been packed to the point of no longer being able to function - I¡¯d luckily cleared them out right before the first rainstorm, but it was clear that no one had bothered to do so in some time. I couldn¡¯t blame my grandfather for that - he was older, and I¡¯m sure it got more difficult to perform maintenance on your house as you aged. However, I loved the old house, and everything that came with it, and not just because Edith lived there as well. Although, I had to admit to myself, that was a part of the reason. I knew it, so there was no point trying to hide it from myself.


    As I took off the last few shutters, I allowed my mind to wander back to thoughts of her. Ultimately, I knew, I didn¡¯t know that much about her. Yeah, we¡¯d talked a bit, and we¡¯d gotten physical, but that didn¡¯t lead you to know much about a person. And ideally, you¡¯d figure that sort of stuff out by going on dates, but the situation made that a bit difficult. Not only was it hard to schedule a date, so to speak, but when I got there the next time, I knew that neither of us were going to have conversation about our pasts on our minds. I felt my cock twitch at the thought of that, and forced myself to focus since I was actively a story above the ground.


    I couldn¡¯t help but wonder, since she seemed like she had been a part of the history of the town, if there was information about her somewhere that I could research. Was that a breach of trust, to go looking for information about her? Maybe I could ask the next time we got to chat. Or, I realized, I could attempt the Ouija board in her room. I know, I had just said that I was not going to try to reach out to her at the moment, but asking a question seemed different somehow than attempting to barge in on her life. If she wanted to stop to answer, she could, and if not, then she could just ignore me. Although, the Ouija board was the thing that started the seance in the first place, so I don¡¯t think it would necessarily be considered to be an innocent toy at this point.


    Still, I knew I needed to take action of some sort, because trying to ignore it while I went about my daily life was just not working. When a person goes through a life-altering event, after all, it¡¯s foolish to expect them to continue on, completely ignoring their world view. I quickly climbed down the ladder, then walked to Clara¡¯s room, determined to get the Ouija board from last night. Most of the seance stuff was still scattered about the house in the last places we¡¯d used them - I guess Charlie wasn¡¯t convinced that we was going to need to be doing a lot of ghost hunting between last night and the next time he came over. Athough, given his determination, the next night he came over might be tonight, and I could hardly blame him. After all, here I was - the skeptic now obsessed with a ghost, and I actually got a chance to experience being there with her. Charlie hadn¡¯t even gotten that despite his attempts, and I could fully understand how frustrating that must be for him.


    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    I sat down on the floor of my office, Clara¡¯s room, whatever it was, and pulled the Ouija board closer to me. Despite everything, I still felt skeptical of that little board, and, come to think of it, all the other ghost equipment Charlie left behind. My reasoning was largely the same as it was before we got to interact with the ghosts - there was no way to prove if it was easier for them to use to communicate with us, or if we were just taking random results and turning them into meaningful statements. After all, we had been able to get a ghost react on their own, using solely the movement of the air, and I¡¯d even heard the voice of one independent of any of Charlie¡¯s toys. What¡¯s to say that the toys weren¡¯t just an interference that was handicapping us every time we tried to talk with them? But I didn¡¯t have any better options at the time, so I put my hands on the planchette of the board. ¡°Hello?¡± I called out to the empty room. Duke wagged his tail from outside - ever since last night, he¡¯d refused to come into the room, and I could hardly blame him. ¡°It¡¯s me, Brian. I was hoping to have a word with Edith. I¡¯m not sure if this is like a ¡®can you please put her on the line¡¯ situation, or if you guys just come through at random, but if there is any way that I could talk with her, that¡¯d be great.¡±


    I waited in silence for a minute, feeling the chill of the room pressing down on me. This waiting in abject silence thing seemed to be becoming quite a routine for me, and I wasn¡¯t sure I enjoyed it, but if that was the only way to talk with any of them, it was worth it in my mind.


    ¡°Brian?¡± a voice called out softly, as though not sure if they wanted me to actually hear it. It didn¡¯t sound like Edith¡¯s voice, though - it was much higher, almost bird-like, whereas Edith¡¯s was deeper in a sultry, mature sort of way. It also didn¡¯t sound like Clara¡¯s either, though, which was odd to me. I wasn¡¯t sure why I would be getting someone else in Clara¡¯s room, but maybe they rotated rooms from time to time?


    Still, if someone was trying to reach out, it was definitely a start that I could work with. ¡°Yes, hi!¡± I yelled out, wincing at the volume of my own voice in the quiet house. I lowered my volume and continued ¡°I¡¯m Brian. Who am I speaking with? Mabel, maybe?¡± I said, trying to stretch my mind back to the blurriness of the first night here to remember any other name.


    Silence again. I lost hope for a moment, wondering if I¡¯d just imagined my name being called. Or, maybe like Charlie had said, they were only capable of doing one or two things a day and then needed to restore their energy. But no, I realized, as I thought back to what Edith had been saying the night before - she had just been going along with her everyday life until weird things started happening in her house and she went to investigate. If I heard someone talking to themselves in an empty room, it would most likely take me a second to summon up the bravery to talk back to it.


    Finally, a faint voice responded. ¡°No, Mabel is gone. This is Alice.¡±


    I didn¡¯t understand what she meant by her statement, but I didn¡¯t want to dwell too long on the fact that Mabel was gone. ¡°Alice! That¡¯s great! Thank you for speaking with me. Is there any chance you can grab Edith? Is she busy at the moment?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± The voice seemed stronger that time - not angry, but just insistent. Unfortunately, it made me realize the mistake I had made in asking too many questions at once - I was unsure if that meant that she couldn¡¯t grab Edith, or that she wasn¡¯t busy.


    ¡°Okay¡­she¡¯s not busy, or you can¡¯t grab her?¡± I asked.


    The room, which had been freezing just a moment ago, turned warmer, as though the heater had just turned on. I waited, expecting Alice to respond, but it was just silence.


    ¡°Alice?¡± I asked again, trying to coax her back to talking with me, but the room stayed silent. I pulled my hands off the Ouija board, frustrated - I¡¯d been able to talk to one of the ghosts, but not to the one I¡¯d needed to talk with, and even that didn¡¯t go very well. Well, I guess that would depend on who you asked - if I were on one of the ghost hunting shows, I would imagine that this would be the greatest interaction in ghost history. For me, though, it was just frustrating, because it felt like it was one step forward, three steps back.


    I weighed my options. I could go try a similar thing in Edith¡¯s room, hoping I''d be able to get to her. I could try to go to sleep right now in the hopes that I would be brought back to them, but I¡¯d show up in the middle of Clara¡¯s room if that was the case, and I was sure that Edith would not be too pleased about that. In fact, I realized, I should have brought the Ouija board out of here in the first place. I left it in the room because it was where we¡¯d had an interaction the last time, and because of that, I hadn¡¯t even considered the possibility of moving it. But by communicating with people here, I was letting more people know that I communicated in that way and that I wanted to see Edith.


    I was feeling awful about my bad decision, but a sudden cold wave rushing back into the room stopped me dead in my tracks. The air movement was almost tangible, as though someone had momentarily turned a huge fan in my direction. ¡°Hi?¡± I asked again, quieter this time, testing the waters.


    ¡°Brian?¡± Edith¡¯s voice rang through the room, and I felt a huge smile brighten on my face. I knew it was ridiculous to be that excited to hear a voice that I¡¯d only heard a couple of times before, but there was just something about it that sparked joy in me. ¡°Is that you?¡±


    ¡°Yes, it¡¯s me! Edith, I wanted to ask your permission for something. Are we alone?¡±


    ¡°We are, but you¡¯re damned lucky that Alice is into spiritualism. She¡¯s one of the few people who you could have reached in here that is wholly unconcerned about hearing a voice from the sky.¡± I realized that this was the most I had gotten out of a ghostly experience since this started - Edith didn¡¯t sound like talking to me was tiring her out at all. If anything, it almost seemed like she was just chatting on the phone with me. I¡¯d have to remember to tell Charlie - he would be particularly interested in how that part managed to work. Did that just mean that Edith was stronger than the rest, or was his pseudoscience bullshit just that? ¡°What were you thinking, trying to communicate with me here? At least do it in the privacy of my own room.¡± she scolded.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Edith, I wasn¡¯t thinking. I just needed to talk with you.¡± I could hear the light whine in my voice, caused by being sorry for my own actions. With it, the atmosphere of the room felt like it was lighter, as though she was also moved by it.


    ¡°Well, it was clear you weren¡¯t thinking alright. But I¡¯m glad to hear from you too. I wish it wasn¡¯t in the middle of my work day, though.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m sorry about that. Again, wasn¡¯t thinking.¡±


    ¡°Definitely not. But, now that you¡¯ve made contact with me, do you think you can get here? As much as I love chatting with you, it feels less awkward to do it face to face than it does with me just yelling into an empty room.¡±


    I smiled at her reaction, as it was basically the same thought I had had. ¡°I¡¯m not 100% sure, but I can definitely try to see if I can get to sleep.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d appreciate it. I¡¯ll be waiting back in the room.¡±


    I nodded, although I knew she couldn¡¯t see me, and headed off quickly toward my bedroom. I wasn¡¯t sure that I was going to be able to sleep - something about the situation was so thrilling, I don¡¯t know if I¡¯d ever been less tired in my life. But on the other hand, last time something like this happened, I fell asleep in the middle of the hallway. I wondered why that wasn¡¯t happening again - was it just some sort of call to go to join Edith, or was I just exhausted from all of the night¡¯s activities? There was no way to be sure, but I hoped it would happen again today.


    I jumped into bed fully clothed, hoping that I would immediately fall asleep. I closed my eyes, but I could feel the blood rushing through my veins, and I knew that the attempt was most likely going to be in vain.


    After several minutes of abject silence while I willed myself to pass into unconsciousness, I heard Edith¡¯s voice again, much softer than it was before, with an air of a whisper to it. ¡°Are you here?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I replied, turning over in bed to look at the spot that the sound had come from, as though she was there in the bed with me. Obviously, there was nothing there, but I imagined her figure in my mind. ¡°I¡¯m having some trouble getting to sleep.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a fate that has afflicted us all of late, it seems,¡± Edith replied. I felt a cool touch on my forehead, and I assumed she was reaching out to me.


    ¡°Can you see me at all, or can you just hear my voice?¡±


    ¡°Just hear your voice, plus I can feel something cold when I reach over there. I assume that¡¯s you.¡±


    ¡°It is.¡± I reached my hand over to where I assumed that she was. The spot next to me on the bed was cold, like just that area had been transformed into winter. Still, if I focused hard enough, it was easy to differentiate her shape. The wind in that spot fluttered, and I assumed she had shivered.


    ¡°You¡¯re chilly,¡± she said, mild complaint in her voice.


    ¡°So are you,¡± I said with a grin. ¡°Well, this was not exactly what I¡¯d hoped, but this is a good start.¡±


    ¡°At least until you get to sleep,¡± she agreed. ¡°Which I hope will be soon. I feel like a crazy person while I¡¯m over here, talking into the thin air.¡±


    ¡°At least in my world, I can act like I¡¯m just talking on the phone.¡±


    ¡°You do have that advantage,¡± she agreed. ¡°So, while we wait, is there a reason you wanted to talk to me so badly that you decided to enlist the help of one of my employees?¡±


    I flushed, momentarily happy that she couldn¡¯t actually see my reaction to that. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s my bad, I didn¡¯t take the time to really consider that if I tried to contact you somewhere else in the house, you wouldn¡¯t be there.¡±


    ¡°At least it was Alice that found you,¡± she said, seeming to accept my explanation. ¡°Out of all the people here, she would be the one least concerned with there being a ghost in the house. As a spiritualist, I would assume she would actually enjoy it. She¡¯s tried to connect to spirits several times here before, and she¡¯s never gotten anything.¡±


    ¡°How did she know my name? I don¡¯t think I met her - I just heard about her in passing.¡±


    Edith was quiet for a moment - I wondered, if I would have been able to see her face, would I have caught her blushing as well, or did she just dislike that line of questions? ¡°That part is my fault - I wanted to keep this from everyone, because it¡¯s just way too hard of a situation to try to explain. Alice noticed me acting funny, though, so she asked what was going on. And I explained it to her, because I assumed that she would be the one who would understand it the best without asking for too many details.¡±


    I let out a small chuckle and a giant grin. ¡°Oh, you were acting funny, were you?¡±


    From her silence, I assumed that she was blushing again - from the little bit that I had interacted with her, it seemed apparent that Edith was not the best at discussing her emotions, and I couldn¡¯t blame her for that - I wasn¡¯t great either, and I had not built an entire business based on the fact that I didn¡¯t need a partner in my life to succeed. ¡°Well anyway,¡± I said, in an attempt to break the awkward silence, ¡°another question I have is about Mabel. Alice said she wasn¡¯t here anymore? Did she just decide to move away from the house?¡±


    ¡°That¡­is an interesting question, and one that I don¡¯t really have an answer to,¡± she started carefully. ¡°There are a lot of times when someone just decides to move on and doesn¡¯t really let the rest of us know about it. Sometimes this job can be too much for people to deal with, even for the money. I assume that¡¯s what happened in this case. But something just feels off about it to me, as well. Mabel seemed to always love this job, and all of her customers were repeat by this point. But maybe she¡¯s following my path and finally saved enough money to go out and buy a place of her own.¡±


    For some reason, that was the topic of conversation that my eyes started closing at, and while I was interested in it, I was also happy that I was finally starting to fall asleep. I knew it had only been about twenty minutes, but it felt simultaneously like it had been several hours and just seconds. ¡°But you¡¯re suspect that that¡¯s the case?¡± I asked dozily.


    ¡°Only a bit. I assume that¡¯s what happened. I have to assume that. But there have been a lot of women around here that have been moving on rather quickly. Remember how I told you that there were 12 women in the house, myself included?¡± I hummed my agreement. ¡°Well, that was a bit of a falsity - there usually are 12 of us here, but as of this morning, there¡¯s 8. And every one of those that left did so in the middle of the night without letting any of us know that they were going. They took all their items with them, so clearly it was planned, but it¡¯s just a bit odd. Oh really, that¡¯s the conversation that you chose to go to sleep to?¡± she complained.


    I snapped my eyes open - I hadn¡¯t even been aware that I had closed them, but I must have done so while she was talking. Edith was laying on the bed next to me, much as I had imagined her in my mind. She was wearing what I now assumed was her typical working attire of a slightly frilled blue blouse and a long black skirt to match it. I reached my hand to her face, lightly stroking a loose piece of hair behind her ear, half to test if she was actually there or still just a figment of my imagination. ¡°Sorry, I couldn¡¯t help it. Does it make it better if I tell you that I was fine with it because I knew you would be able to continue your story on this side?¡±


    ¡°I suppose. I¡¯m just surprised that you were able to hear it at all from your side. I tried calling for you before as an experiment, and nothing seemed to have happened.¡±


    ¡°It did seem remarkably clear today, considering every other time it¡¯s been a miracle to even sense the presence of someone.¡± I reached over to her and pulled her closer to me. She smiled, all sign of her irritation from a moment ago gone. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if that¡¯s a good sign or not, but I¡¯m glad it¡¯s happening nonetheless.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m glad it¡¯s happening too,¡± she said, scooting even a little closer to me, so that we were almost nose to nose. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s just a sign that we¡¯re getting closer.¡±


    I grinned at her corny joke. ¡°We sure are.¡± I pushed my lips to hers and she greedily accepted them. Her tongue casually flicked out to explore the inner rim of my lips, and I could already feel my cock starting to harden. But no, I thought, pulling myself back to reality. As much as I would love to just lie in her bed all day doing a variety of filthy things to her, I knew that her business meant more to her than one day of pleasure. With a ton of regret, I pulled back away from her. She held on for a moment, following my lips, then broke away with a confused look. ¡°Look, I don¡¯t want to stop any more than you apparently do, but i also assume you have more important things to deal with today?¡±


    She sighed, looking disappointed. ¡°You¡¯re right, I suppose,¡± she agreed. ¡°But then why did you have to come and get me all excited?¡±


    ¡°Well, I had a question that I obviously could not ask anywhere but in your bed.¡± She raised her eyebrow, waiting for me to ask. ¡°I wanted to know if you¡¯d be okay with me trying to find things out about you from my side. You seem to have played an important part in the history of this town, and I¡¯m sure there¡¯s got to be information about you somewhere. And just, I want to know more about you.¡±


    ¡°And we can¡¯t do that from just talking? I don¡¯t really have any resources to go and look you up.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but I¡¯ve also played a significantly less important role in history than you have.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fair,¡± she said, clearly thinking over the question. Now that it was brought up, i could see the issues with it, and I half wondered if it was just a half assed attempt of my brain to find a reason to come visit. My eyes trailed longingly from her eyes, down her face, her neck, then finally on her breasts. I assumed that they were a major culprit in this situation. ¡°Yeah, i suppose that¡¯s fine,¡± she said finally, ¡°but I want to know if you find anything interesting. I would love to know how I affect the course of history.¡±


    ¡°Deal,¡± I said with a grin, my eyes popping back up to meet hers. ¡°Now, do you have to go back to work right now, or do you have some free time?¡±


    ¡°Free time is relative - there are things that need to be done, but I can always do them later. What exactly did you have in mind?¡±


    My eyes spanned over her, hungry. ¡°Well, I know that the last time I was here, I promised that I would pay you back.¡±


    She smiled, a hint of teasing in her lips. ¡°Oh, you definitely did. Do you intend to keep up on that promise?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I always keep my promises.¡± I rolled her onto her back, climbed over her, and brought my face to hers once more. She came to join me, pulling me closer to her. My lips worked against hers as my hands started wandering their way down, on their own exploratory mission. My left hand landed on her breast, still firmly clad in her blouse. I squeezed it and felt her slightly squirm with pleasure. I longed to do more, to spend more of my time there, but I knew the time was limited today, so I moved downward, past her stomach and to the junction between her thighs. I felt her gasp lightly at my touch, even though I had yet to do much of anything. I smiled and broke away from her. She snatched at me, trying to pull me back to her face, but I shook my head, a sly smile on my face. ¡°You think you get to blow me and then just get some over-the-clothes hand action in return? What sort of modern man do you think I am?¡±


    ¡°Frankly, I think you¡¯re the kind of man who¡¯s wasting time talking when he should be doing,¡± she said, out of breath.


    My smile brightened at her. ¡°Alright, I can hurry up the foreplay, as you wish.¡± I crawled down a step so that I could reach the end of her long skirt. I pulled it up slightly, and even just the pale nudity of her calves was enough to make my cock twitch. I stuck my head under her skirt, and I felt her lean back into the bed, no longer concerned with the actual sight as much as the feeling.


    Edith had no underwear on of any sort. Either she had been hoping that this would happen, or she routinely didn¡¯t wear any. Frankly, at this moment, I didn¡¯t much care. I pushed her legs open, exposing her hairy mound. Pubic hair wasn¡¯t normally my thing, but it had never stopped me from going down on a woman before, and somehow on Edith, it felt right. I imagined that shaving wasn¡¯t a huge thing back in her time, and with her, it just made it more refined. I swooped down, my lips finally getting to taste the silky taste of her loins. Edith immediately started to squirm, and I wound my arms around her legs to restrict her movement. My tongue lapped slowly at her clit, savoring the taste of it.


    ¡°Oh God,¡± Edith moaned, her hands finding their way down to my head and, despite me being under her skirt, she managed to grab my hair. I let go of her thighs, allowing her to move my head as she pleased. She pulled my head toward her, grinding against it.. After only about 30 seconds, I felt her completely stiffen as she moaned in ecstasy. Then, she released my head, panting roughly.


    I pulled my face out from under her skirt to look at her, sweaty, with a bright pink tingle to her skin. She tried to catch her breath while she stared at me. Finally, she managed to get enough air to speak. ¡°That was some fancy trick you had there, with the tongue and the¡­¡± she trailed off, and I smiled a devilish grin at her.


    ¡°Well thanks, that¡¯s something we must practice more in the future. However, I¡¯ve got another trick up my sleeve.¡±  I moved my hands to the waistband of my pants and started fumbling with the zipper. Edith saw what I was doing and eagerly sat up to help, but I waved her back down. ¡°No, save your energy, you might need it.¡±


    Edith grinned and laid back down. ¡°This really is the kind of service that all women need from time to time,¡± she said slowly, still clearly in a bit of a daze.


    ¡°And I am just the kind of man to complete that sort of service for you.¡± I pulled down my zipper and my cock strung out as much as it could given it was still trapped in boxers. The relief of the pressure felt great, and I swooped off both my pants and my boxers in one movement and Edith watched in rapt interest. I pulled my shirt over my head as well, then crawled back onto the bed over to Edith. I leaned over and kissed her, feeling her juices smearing between us as I did. At the same time, I looped my fingers over the tie that held her skirt in place and swiftly pulled it. It fell away with no resistance, as though it were happy to be going on the ground. I slid her skirt down her legs, and I felt Edith tremble at the bare touch of my hands. Already come and still trembling - it felt like she had had a mighty need for cock for a while, and I¡¯m glad I was able to give it to her.


    I grabbed her thigh and moved her leg to the side, exposing her glorious mound again. I trailed my hand up her thigh and over the slick wetness that I had left behind. Edith shivered and bucked her hips up toward my hand. I pulled away from her mouth, toyingly. ¡°I take it that you fully consent, then?¡±


    A small flash of confusion flashed across her face, but then she seemed to realize the question, and fire flashed in her eyes once more. ¡°If I don¡¯t have a dick inside me right this minute, I¡¯m going to explode.¡±


    I chuckled hoarsely. ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± I answered her, crawling between her legs and positioning myself at her entrance. The wet heat felt blissful against my head, as I took my rock-hard cock and rubbed it lightly against her clit for a moment, then slowly started pushing myself into her warm, wet hole. Edith moaned in pleasure, but I was too lost in the pleasure myself to even react.  I swept my hand behind her head, twisting my fingers through her hair, and pulled her forehead to mine as I started pumping. I locked eyes with her - hers were greedy, wanting. I¡¯m sure mine were as well.


    We stared into each other¡¯s eyes for a moment more, until Edith propped herself up on her elbow, knocking me out momentarily. ¡°My turn,¡± she said hungrily, pushing me onto my back. I willingly moved, just watching to see what she had done. She was by far the most dominant, demanding woman that I had slept with, and I was more than happy to lap up every second of it. She climbed onto me, then grabbed my hard cock and aligned it against her. She slid down it with ease, as though it were specifically made for her. She smiled at me, and her lips were filled with mischief, almost to the point of wickedness. ¡°That¡¯s my good boy,¡± she near whispered, and I groaned.


    I watched her expertly grind on my cock, her breathing rapidly increasing as she moved. I licked my thumb and tucked it just under the lip of her mound, rubbing it in slow circles around her clit as she moved. It was hard to focus on keeping my thumb in the right spot, and I could tell that I was getting close to release. But she was too, I thought - her skin was starting to flush again. She reached up and grabbed my wrist, locking my hand in place along with her movements. I let her move me as she pleased, keeping my thumb moving in steady circles, and within a few moments, I could feel her walls start to tighten around me. It was almost too much to take, but I wanted to hold on for just a moment more so that she would still be able to continue her ride.


    Edith moaned loudly, ending in a shutter as her walls spasmed hard against my cock. Then she stopped moving, catching her breath. But I was still close to the edge - my fingertips dug into her thigh, wanting to continue the movement, but I wasn¡¯t sure if it was too soon for her. Slowly, semi-lucid, she looked down at them, realizing where the squeezing on her thighs was coming from. She turned back to my eyes, a glimmer in hers that I hadn¡¯t seen earlier, as though she was enjoying playing with me just as much as she enjoyed getting to cum. ¡°Come on,¡± she hissed through her teeth. ¡°You¡¯ve been such a good boy today, I just need you to do one more little thing. Can you cum for me?¡± she asked coyly. Her voice in that moment was too much for me, and I felt an explosion release inside of her. I groaned loudly, letting the feeling wash over me. I hardly noticed her getting off me and laying her head on my shoulder, but when I started noticing things in the room again, there she was. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve cum so hard in years,¡± she said, lazily running her fingers in a circle on my chest hair. ¡°I¡¯m really glad you showed up today. I thought I was stressed, but it turns out that I just needed to get off.¡±


    I chuckled, already starting to fall asleep. I tried to keep my eyes open, but I knew I was losing. Edith noticed and ran her hand down the length of my jaw. ¡°You can sleep now. You just have to promise me that you¡¯ll be back tonight. I¡¯d like to talk to you more when we actually have a chance to be fully dressed. I¡¯ll try to call out to you tonight, and hopefully, you¡¯ll be able to hear me.¡±


    I nodded, closing my eyes and descending into the darkness.

 Chapter 10

    I awoke with a start in my room, back in my own time, in the middle of the afternoon. Duke was lying approximately where Edith had been, with his head perked up and his eyes staring at me in obvious confusion. I suppose I didn¡¯t know how it worked for me - did he see me just wake up from a dream, or did I suddenly appear in thin air to him?


    I stood up, throwing on a pair of pants absently, still lost in thought from the afternoon¡¯s encounters. Part of me thought I could still smell her dusky aroma on my lips, but I wasn¡¯t sure if that was a reality or just wishful thinking. I pulled out my phone to check the time - it was dead again, so I rolled my eyes and threw it on a charger. The time blinked up instantly - just after 2 p.m., plenty of time to call the historical society today. I googled the number and clicked to call. There was a surprising number of rings before anything broke the pattern, but eventually, what sounded like an ancient woman answered the phone. ¡°Lake County Historical Society, this is Glenda, how can I help you?¡±


    ____________


    An hour later, I was in my car, on the way to the historical society headquarters. It was a small, dark-looking building just south of downtown and when I got there, it felt like I was the first person to have stepped through those doors in years. The reception area was dimly lit and filled with couches and chairs from what had to have been the 80s at least. The air had the stale aroma of old books, which made sense, considering the bookshelf behind the desk was filled with an antique collection of books that probably were only referenced once a millennium. Behind the counter, as well, stood a woman who looked old enough to have lived through most of the events that the historical society had seen - she was maybe 4¡¯9¡±, her spine stooped, and her curled, tight-cropped hair was as white as fresh snow. ¡°You must be Glenda,¡± I said, stepping forward and offering out my hand for a handshake.


    She took my hand, with fingers so arthritic that she could hardly grab a hold of it. ¡°And you must be Brian. Nice to meet you - it¡¯s always great to see a new face who¡¯s interested in the history of this area.¡±


    ¡°I would imagine, good to have people coming through the doors!¡± I agreed. ¡°Sorry to be so specific on the topic, though.¡±


    ¡°Not at all - it¡¯s very common that people want to know about things that have been happening in their own house.¡± She gestured to me to take a seat on one of the ancient couches, so I did. She followed me over, and after what felt like 10 minutes of watching her hobble across the floor, she made it to the seating area and sat down across from me. ¡°Now Edith Bowman, she was an interesting character! We don¡¯t have a ton of information on her business practices, of course, since most of her work was done outside of the law. However, there are a few references to the brothel, the name of which is The Blue Room, scattered about in other documents. From what we can tell, it seemed like everyone in the town was aware of the brothel and was accepting of it.¡±


    ¡°Was that very common for the time, or was there something about this particular place that people were accepting of?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°Great question. While it wasn¡¯t uncommon for brothels to be persecuted at that time, a lot of them were left alone, especially if they were outside of the city limits, like your house was. The city wouldn¡¯t do anything about it because it was out of town, and the sheriffs often didn¡¯t want the trouble. Still, I would say that, in my personal opinion, I feel like The Blue Room was held in a slightly higher opinion than a lot of the ones around here. Obviously, I don¡¯t know if it was comparable with other brothels in the country - you¡¯d need to go on a bit of a historical society road trip to figure that out. Around here, though, I would say it was held in a better light than a lot of the other brothels that we have in the historical record.¡±


    She gestured to a pitcher of water on the table and I shook my head. She took a glass herself, probably not used to talking so much, and then continued. ¡°The Blue Room was most likely so highly regarded because of Edith herself. Edith was a keen businesswoman, as I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve no doubt suspected by the fact that she was a woman who was able to purchase her own house at that time. She worked as a courtesan in the city for many years, saving money to purchase a business of her own, and she was able to complete that goal by the age of 31. She then worked as the madam of the house rather than one of the women. The men frequented The Blue Room often enough that she started to become well acquainted with many of the men on the city council at the time. There is even speculation that she was in a relationship with the head of the city council for a time, but all we have on that are rumors that were written in diaries that we have managed to acquire. The city councilman was married at the time, so if it was true, it would have been pretty hush-hush. The only confirmation we can offer is that, around the time that the rumors were written about, there were several city measures that passed that would have been of benefit to The Blue Room, but whether that was because of a relationship, or whether rumors of the relationship started because of the measures being passed is a mystery that has been lost to the sands of time.


    ¡°Edith, herself, managed to run for city council in 1912 but did lose the race, which is not wholly surprising given that women were not allowed to vote at the time. However, she was the first woman to run in the campaign and was generally well-favored by both men and women in the town. She was frequently at city council meetings, petitioning and speaking in favor of positive changes to the town. She was an active suffragette and was one of the first women to talk about voting rights in a city council meeting. One of the benefits of her profession and establishment was that instead of the scorn that the topic usually received, it is generally accepted that the men of the city council allowed her to speak, and even offered to bring her to the state legislature to speak. The state, however, would not accept her as a speaker, so a man went in her place to discuss women¡¯s voting rights.


    ¡°As far as I was able to tell through our records, and mind you, it¡¯s a little hard to tell because of the lack of clarity regarding her profession, the house stayed in her ownership until her untimely death in 1924.¡±


    ¡°Untimely?¡± I asked, the shock clear in my voice. If I did my calculations right, she would have been only in her 40s at that time, and that just seemed improbable to me somehow. I knew she had already died - she had been alive more than a century ago, after all, so that was a given. For some reason, though I¡¯d been picturing that she had died in her sleep, old and gray, having moved on to a more peaceful sort of life.


    ¡°Yes - unfortunately, even though she was generally well respected in town, Edith¡¯s profession was less accepted by some than by others. The case was one of many of the unsolved cases of the time - she was unfortunately found behind a grocery store, stabbed to death. There was suspicion that there was some mob activity starting to branch into the city at the time, and there were quite a few murders of some of the more powerful people in town. However, that theory was never able to be proved, and there was no case brought to court, so officially it¡¯s still considered to be a cold case. There was a noted memorial for her at the house, but given the amount of violent activity that had been starting to happen, her murder, unfortunately, didn¡¯t make that big of a stir around town until The Blue Room closed.


    ¡°At the point of her death, it was transferred to her longest-running employee, Josephine Warner, as she had no living relatives on record, and she had never been officially married in the court of law, nor had she been in any relationship since the purchase of the house that would be able to qualify for a common law marriage. It was then sold by Ms. Warner to a man named Abel Mattock, who owned it for a little over one year before selling it to your grandfather. On paper, it was noted that Mr. Mattock was planning on living in the house, but he rented out an apartment just two weeks later. I believe that¡¯s what spawned some of the ghost stories for the house - I¡¯m not sure if your grandfather told you, but we have a ghost tour that goes around town every year, and we always take the trip out to your house to discuss it. We don¡¯t go inside though, don¡¯t worry. But, if you have anything ghostly happen, be sure to let us know! Your grandfather never reported anything, so we¡¯re a little sparse on the story aspects, we just explain how the old owner was run out, and then add in a story from a tour that we took, where a patron stated that they saw the figure of a woman standing in a window. I¡¯m not so sure it wasn¡¯t just your grandmother, but we¡¯ll take whatever stories we can get at this point.¡±


    I heard the tone of the woman talking for longer, but I started to phase out of the conversation at that point, as I wasn¡¯t particularly interested in the history of the house after my grandfather had acquired it. My mind couldn¡¯t help but wander back to the fact of Edith¡¯s murder. While I didn¡¯t want to think about it, it stuck out in my mind, wishing there was something that I could do about it, but also knowing that it was already written in the past. I wasn¡¯t sure how I was able to talk to, much less physically interact with, her ghost, but I was sure that telling her wouldn¡¯t make a difference.


    I thanked the old woman, helping her from her seat when she failed to manage to push herself up and headed back toward my house. There was a part of me that was happy that I had taken the time to look into Edith¡¯s history - it confirmed what I knew about her already, which was the fact that she was a badass businesswoman, but it was interesting to know that she also had such an impact on the politics of the town. Had she lived today, I had little doubt that she would have been able to run for office and get in immediately. I couldn¡¯t wait to tell her about it tonight.


    ___________


    I spent most of the rest of the afternoon clearing out the gutters - it was fall, which meant that the leaves could accumulate enough to have them overrun in a day¡¯s time, so it felt like it was a full-time job to keep them clean. This time, though, I made sure there were no heavy objects above my head before I started to work - while I loved to go and visit Edith, I much preferred the times when I didn¡¯t have a huge head wound.


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    I got ready for bed that night in a very unusual way - I put on some cologne and then put on a nice, button-down shirt and a pair of jeans. I was sure the fashion had changed since Edith¡¯s time regardless, so I wasn¡¯t particularly worried about the style, but I still wanted to look nice for her. She deserved that sort of treatment. Then, I went to my room and hopped onto my bed, waiting for a sign. Duke laid next to me, his tail wagging, as though he were waiting for the same.


    After nearly 20 minutes of playing on my phone and keeping an ear out for any noises, I started to talk aloud myself, hoping that my voice would trigger hers to work. I told her about my day what I had found, and about how badass I thought she was. I trailed off when I was done, not sure what else to say to her, but it didn¡¯t matter. After a moment of silence, I heard a strong voice ring out ¡°Oh, so is that what you found out about me? They have a lot more about me than I would have imagined.¡±


    I laughed, happy that I was able to end up getting into contact with her. I was worried that our date had been postponed, and while that wouldn¡¯t have been the end of the world, the finite nature that had been her life kept weighing on me. I knew that the days passed by in her world and that her life kept changing as time moved on. Therefore, it only made sense to me that we would also be inching closer and closer to the day of her murder. What happened then? Since she was a ghost, would she just disappear, or would she be stuck in a Sisyphean loop of her life? I assumed the former, as she was here now, and I wasn''t so conceited as to assume that my presence here had started her life. And when she restarted her life, would she still remember me, or would all aspects of her life reset and her memories of this time be gone? Selfishly, I hoped that she would remember me, but I also didn¡¯t know if there was a way for her to break out of this (although I assumed to - wasn¡¯t there something about telling ghosts to go toward to light? I¡¯d have to ask Charlie about it), and if not, I wouldn¡¯t want her to occasionally miss me for the rest of existence. ¡°I mean, you¡¯re an impressive woman,¡± I answered finally. ¡°It would be difficult to capture all of your accomplishments into a book. Especially since, you know, a lot of them are outside of the law and all.¡±


    ¡°Well, if you want to actually make changes in your world, sometimes you have to go around the law to do it. But it is good to know that I made enough of an impact on the town that wrote about me. Now, go to sleep, I¡¯ve got a surprise for you when you get here.¡±


    My mind raced, picturing all of the possibilities that might constitute a surprise. You know, you¡¯re sure great at getting a man to fall asleep,¡± I joked.


    ¡°Almost like that¡¯s the exact opposite of my job most of the time,¡± she answered with a laugh.


    _______________


    After what felt like forever, I felt a firm grasp on my shoulder. I opened my eyes to see Edith lying next to me, fully dressed, but looking more radiant than she had ever been. I propped myself up on my elbow, taking a full beat to look her up and down, appreciating every hill and crest.


    ¡°Oh good, you¡¯re not just in boxers today,¡± she said, smiling at me, then rolling to get off the bed.


    ¡°Do you not like it when I¡¯m just in my boxers?¡±


    ¡°Usually I do, but today, you¡¯re going to need clothes. I had stolen some that some of the gentlemen had left behind,¡± she said, gesturing at her desk chair, which was indeed covered with various pieces of mostly brown clothing, ¡°but I doubt much of it would fit you. You¡¯re quite tall, which poses a problem.¡±


    I don¡¯t think I, a 5¡¯9¡± man, had even been described as ¡°quite tall¡± in my life, but I realized that compared to her and the other women around the brothel, I was a giant. Maybe people were just built shorter in that time - that would certainly explain the slightly low door frames in this house. ¡°But we can¡¯t leave your room, you said. What about your reputation?¡± Based on my research, I knew she kept her reputation up, and while I wasn¡¯t sure if my actions here would have any effect on them, I wasn¡¯t about to be the one to check.


    ¡°I told everyone that there was going to be a night auditor here - he was going to check out the house, and then we were going to work on our finances together. And most importantly, that I didn¡¯t want to be disturbed.¡± She smiled a clever grin, knowing she¡¯d come up with a great plan.


    ¡°But won¡¯t some people know who I am?¡± I asked. ¡°I mean, a few of them saw me on my first day here.¡±


    ¡°Well, you were covered in blood at the time, and that really does change the appearance of a man. Besides, I don¡¯t think any of them will have any chance to recognize you. If you understood just how many men these women see on a weekly basis, you would better understand why they wouldn¡¯t be able to remember a new face. Half of them have trouble with the regulars, much less someone who came to town one day who they saw for 10 minutes.¡±


    ¡°Hey, Clara saw me for more than 10 minutes,¡± I argued. She cocked an eyebrow at me, and I backed down immediately - in fairness, she was right, that first day I hadn¡¯t lasted hardly any time at all, what with the blood loss and the exciting confusion around the event. I got off the bed and walked around to her side, offering her my hand. ¡°If you¡¯re comfortable with it, then I¡¯m comfortable. Allow me to see you to wherever we are going for our first actual date.¡±


    She took my hand and rose from the bed, her eyes giving me a quick once over. ¡°I feel like you could still benefit from a hat to fit in,¡± she said. She swept over to the chair and pulled a bowler hat off the pile, then set it on top of my head. ¡°It would be better if we could get you a mustache, but I suppose this will have to do. Come along.¡±


    Edith grabbed my sleeve and pulled me toward the door with her. I followed happily - while there was a part of me that would be more than happy to explore more of the outside world (after all, how many people get to take a look into the past), I knew that a vast majority of it was just that I was happy to follow Edith wherever she was going. When we got to the hall, she dropped my sleeve and I started following her, just a pace behind. ¡°You see, sir, everything is quite up to the highest modern standards,¡± Edith said. I was confused for a moment and then realized that she was talking to me as though I was the inspector. I looked around as we walked, trying to pretend that I was noticing aspects of the house. Despite being a hundred years ago, there were still a lot of things that my house shared in common - the floor was now carpeted, but the floorboards looked to me the same. The ceiling was, too - hopefully not the same paint, but it looked like the next owners had kept the same color going.


    ¡°And this,¡± Edith said, directing me toward the main staircase, ¡°is our entrance area. You might remember it,¡± she joked wryly at me. I looked around to see if anyone else was going to catch the reference, but I didn¡¯t see anyone in earshot. I realized that she was probably continuing with the tour at this point just in case someone came out of their rooms. ¡°Every guest or I suppose at this point, almost every guest that has entered this house has come through those doors.¡± She swept down the staircase, telling me more about the architecture, which I probably should have been listening to as she seemed like she knew more about this house than anyone else who had stepped foot in it, though. However, I was having a hard time paying attention to her actual words and was instead just focused on the passion she displayed while she was speaking. I¡¯d never heard someone so blatantly invested in a house, nor had I seen many people talk about things that they were truly passionate about. That, itself, was a marvel amongst Edith¡¯s many marvels.


    ¡°Now, if you¡¯ll follow me outside, I can show you the exterior of the house.¡± She led me toward the big front doors, the same that still stood in the door today. Though the inside of the house had been relatively familiar, save for the amount of people bustling around inside of it, the outside of the house was completely different. Not the actual exterior of the house, so much - that was a different color, but without any drastic changes. But the world around the house was so different that it was hard to even recognize it. Instead of the paved driveway, there was just grass in the front of the house, with a worn dirt trail leading up to the house. She caught me eyeing it and explained ¡°That¡¯s been on my to-do list for quite some time - when I first bought the house, I didn¡¯t have the money to fix up the front walkway. I wanted it to be stepping stones, but we left it as grass, and over time, the customers wore it down. Now, I have plenty of money to fix it if I want to, but I¡¯m too busy with other things. Yourself not included.¡±


    I nodded, half thinking that I could help her put in her stone walkway, but then realizing that I probably wasn¡¯t here for long enough each night to do so. Plus, it would be dark soon, and while it did seem like electric lights were a thing, there weren¡¯t work lights that could light up what I was doing. Unless I wanted to start taking naps in the middle of the day to alter history, I suppose, but I thought that there would be better things that I would want to change.


    I looked out at the town - there was now a dirt road leading to that, too, rather than the asphalt highway that headed in that direction. From here, you could hardly see it - there were some buildings off in the distance, but they were far enough away that I wasn¡¯t able to make them out. The Blue Room, a name that I now understood, considering the blue coloring of the entryway, must have been quite the place for people to come all the way out here. Granted, as the woman from the historical society was saying, maybe it was a benefit to have it out of town, as none of the police departments bothered to deal with it.


    Edith walked me around the house to the back. In the backyard, there was a large, wooden gazebo that had been taken down before I was born. She grabbed my hand, pulling me toward it as the light began to fade quickly from the sky. ¡°I figured this would be a cute place for an actual date,¡± she explained. ¡°Far from town so that there¡¯s no rumors starting, and by design, none of the windows of the house face this direction. We want to maintain a level of privacy for any guests who choose to use this area, after all. We walked into the gazebo, and the whitewash showed what little light there was left. There was a gas lantern hanging on the far side, and Edith took it down and lit it. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if this is still there in your time - probably not, it¡¯s already a little wobbly as is,¡± she said, returning to me. ¡°But I thought you might enjoy seeing it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s nice to be able to see your house as it was in its prime,¡± I agreed. ¡°But to be frank, it¡¯s nicer to be here with you.¡± I reached over and grabbed her hand, giving it a quick squeeze. She smiled and returned the gesture, then moved to sit on the bench. I sat with her, facing her as best as I could considering we were seated in the same direction.


    ¡°It¡¯s nice to be here with you, too,¡± she said. I held out my hand for hers, and she willingly took it, with both of hers, running her fingers over the crests and valleys of my knuckles. ¡°And that¡¯s weird to say for me. I¡¯ve always prided myself on being this independent woman who doesn¡¯t have time for any men that come her way, and now here I am, planning events and waiting for a man from the future to show up to woo me.¡±


    ¡°Hey, you¡¯re still a strong woman, and I sure as hell haven¡¯t done anything to make you less independent. I¡¯ve shown up here a few times and we¡¯ve had sex which was¡­amazing,¡± I said, wishing I could come up with a better way to describe how great I thought it was, but also knowing that that was not the point. ¡°And I¡¯m starting to really look forward to going to bed, just in the hopes that I might get to see you. But I can tell you right now, with or without me, you are still the same woman who manages to be in complete control over this world of yours. You¡¯re just having a bit more fun doing it.¡±


    Edith looked up at me and smiled. ¡°I¡¯m glad you think that. I¡¯m supposed to go help a city councilman up in the capital next week - he¡¯s giving a talk about women¡¯s right to vote, and I¡¯m going to help him with it because I was the one who kept bringing it to the city board. Do tell me, in the future, do women have the right to vote?¡±


    ¡°They do,¡± I answered, and her smile beamed harder.


    ¡°Then I have to go help him,¡± she insisted, as though I was arguing against it. ¡°I wanted to stay because I¡¯ve been enjoying our time so much, and I doubt I¡¯ll be able to get in contact with you there unless you happen to take a trip up to the same city, I suppose.¡±


    ¡°I can try if you want, I¡¯ve got some time off saved up,¡± I said with a shrug. ¡°But I think it would be good for you to go alone. That way, you can focus on what you¡¯re doing. And I¡¯ll be here when you get back. Yeah, we¡¯ll miss a few days together, but you¡¯ve got to go help make history and that¡¯s more important.¡±


    Edith half stood out of her seat and reached her arms around me in a huge hug. It seemed less romantic and more grateful, but I still couldn¡¯t help but notice the feeling of her breasts pressed against my chest. I tried my best to ignore the feeling, though, as we were in the middle of a moment. Part of me wondered, given the world that she was living in, if this was the first time that a man had approved of what she was doing, but I didn¡¯t think that mattered at all. Edith was so smart and determined, that I knew that she would do whatever she needed to, regardless of other¡¯s opinions. I wrapped my arms around her, joining her in her embrace, and I felt her melt into me in the cool chill of the night.

 Chapter 11

    Edith and I had spent more of the night on the gazebo, alternating between her telling me everything there was to know about her life (some of which I had already heard about from the historical society, but a lot of which was new information, all of which would be again lost to history with me), cuddling, and the occasional make-out session underneath the cover of relative darkness in the backyard. We must have finally fallen asleep outside, or at least I did - hopefully Edith made it back inside so that her time in the gazebo wouldn¡¯t cause a stir. All I know is that what seemed like suddenly, I was waking up on the grass in my backyard, the sun shining above me, and Duke lying by my feet. When I stirred, Duke turned to look at me, wagging his tail lightly, as though he was nervous about my sudden appearance again. That made sense to me - even dogs understood that you didn¡¯t just appear and disappear out of thin air, and at least to me, that¡¯s what it felt like I was doing.


    I looked up at him, lightly patted his backside, then laid my head back down on the ground. I needed to think - I wasn¡¯t exactly sure what time it was in Edith¡¯s life, but given the fact that it sounded like she was getting more and more involved in the suffragette movement, and the fact that it sounded like she¡¯d owned the house for quite some time, I had to assume that we were getting toward the end of her life. I was hoping that the knowledge of her past would let me get to know her better, but instead, it just created a ticking clock on whatever sort of relationship we had. It wouldn¡¯t be as bad if it was just a casual fling, but I could already tell that I was getting in way too deep for that. I already missed her, for god¡¯s sake, and I had just been there what felt like minutes ago. That was going to be a problem that I would have to solve soon, and I was not looking forward to that prospect.


    I sat up, trying to come up with some sort of half-brained solution. I suppose I could just totally ghost - not go back at all, and if I see any ghost activity in the house, do whatever I could to stay awake. But I knew that wouldn¡¯t work - besides the fact that she occasionally was able to put me to sleep instantaneously, I knew that I wouldn¡¯t have the willpower to go through with it. And that didn¡¯t account for the fact of what I¡¯d do the first time I thought of her hips, moving in sync with mine to create a perfect harmony of desire. I felt my cock start to engorge just at the passing thought, and I knew that if I was hardly able to contain myself when I was sober, there was no way I would be able to hold off if I was full-on horny. Everyone knows that you aren''t able to think rationally whenever your blood rushes to your dick.


    Maybe I could tell her about it? I wasn¡¯t conceited enough to believe that I had the power to change what happened in the past, but maybe in this ghost world, it¡¯s not a 100% accurate portrayal of what was going on. I highly doubt there was a man coming from the future to ravish her, for instance, I thought.


    My cock rubbed on the front of my pants, and I could feel the zipper despite the layer of clothing in between. I couldn¡¯t help it - as we hadn¡¯t gone that far last night, I had plenty of energy stored up from all the make-out sessions. But I wasn¡¯t about to take care of that out here - I might have lived outside of town, but it wasn¡¯t nearly as far out of town as it had been in Edith¡¯s time. I had neighbors, and they had children, and it would probably ruin my relationship with Edith if I was locked up for the rest of it.


    I picked myself up and headed inside. For some reason, there was a somewhat fruity scent in the air that day. I couldn¡¯t quite place it, but I knew that it shouldn¡¯t have been there - I wasn¡¯t much of one for scented candles or the like. I half-heartedly thought about trying to figure out what was causing it, but I also knew that I wouldn¡¯t be able to figure anything out until the point of post-nut clarity. I walked up the steps, already knowing that I was going to go to my room. Of course, I would - it offered all the privacy of being in my own space, plus it was where I had all of my best memories of Edith. Don¡¯t get me wrong - last night was great, and I adored talking with her, but there was no way that it compared to the first time she ravenously enveloped my cock.


    I closed the door behind me, shutting out a very sad Duke, pulled off my pants, and sat down on the edge of my bed. I started working, imagining that the rough nature of my hand was the softness of Edith¡¯s flesh. I closed my eyes, feeling the exotic bliss of the memory, thinking that it almost felt too good to be true.


    Wait. It did feel too good to be true. I pulled my hand back, stopping the movement, but I still felt something caressing the hard shaft of my cock. It wasn¡¯t the same feeling - it was significantly softer than my hand had been, and there was a distinct chill that went along with the sensation of touch. I opened my eyes, but I only saw a blank room in front of me. When I looked down at my cock, though, it was moving rhythmically, in sync with the sensation, almost as though another hand had taken hold of my hard member.


    ¡°Edith?¡± I asked, both hoping it was her and fearing it was something else. As much as I¡¯d be fine with a ghost hand job, I assumed that if there were ghostly things that I didn¡¯t know about, there were probably other mythical creatures that I didn¡¯t know about, either. But I was only up for one world-shaping event at a time - ghosts could be real, but everything else was going to have to wait in line for me to get used to that reality.


    ¡°Hey, handsome,¡± purred back a voice, and I relaxed with relief when I recognized Edith. Why she was in her room this late in the morning, I wasn¡¯t sure, but I wasn¡¯t about to complain one bit.


    ¡°You know, you¡¯re supposed to let a guy know before you take over his hand jobs, especially if the other party is unable to see you,¡± I complained jokingly. I leaned back on the bed, no longer paying attention to anything around me other than Edith and the sensations she was creating.


    ¡°See, I would, but I figured you¡¯d be okay with it just this once,¡± she purred. I felt her fingers travel to the end of my shaft, then rake down my balls, her fingernails lightly scratching as she moved. ¡°After all, I feel like I¡¯ve earned the right to say that I own these.¡± She continued to run her fingers to the other side of my balls, then lightly held them in her hand, creating just the right amount of pressure to make it amazing.


    I groaned, losing myself in the sensations she was creating. ¡°You¡¯re right, you¡¯ve earned the right to own every part of me.¡±


    ¡°And I intend to take full advantage of the right for as long as I¡¯m able to.¡± I sensed more than felt the fact that she was sliding close to me on the bed as her hand went back to my rock-hard cock. There was no weight to her, and the bed didn¡¯t shift at all, but the cold sense came back stronger than ever, running all down my left side and ending at my ear. My ear felt the most cold of all, and I felt a slight tug on it. I realized that she was nibbling on my ear as well, and I almost lost it, but I somehow managed to keep it together. ¡°And every chance I get, I¡¯m going to rub, or suck, or fuck this dick. I¡¯m going to use you like my personal plaything.¡± Her words vibrated in my ear, somehow hitting the core of my soul. Her hand movement froze for a moment, and then I felt a tight pressure on my shaft, as though she were gripping it. ¡°Someone seems ready to come, I see,¡± she purred expectantly. ¡°Well come on, then, I want to feel it all over me.¡±


    It felt like she knew my exact triggers - I exploded, my seed shooting onto my shirt. I gasped, not fully able to process what was happening, and I heard a small giggle from beside me. ¡°Very good,¡± she purred again.


    We lay there in silence for a while, and I was only sure that she was still by my side because of the chill that radiated off her. I knew she most likely had to go - I¡¯m sure she had more important things to worry about that day than me - but yet she stayed until I stood up to get a tissue to clean myself off. I wiped the mess off my chest, and even though I could still feel her presence, it seemed like there was a sort of quiet chill that swallowed up the room.  I pulled my pants back on and lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. After what felt like years, I finally heard her voice again. ¡°Are you alright? You seem off. Did you not want my help with that?¡±


    ¡°No, no, that was great,¡± I reassured her. ¡°I¡¯ve just got some stuff on my mind since yesterday.¡±


    ¡°What sort of stuff?¡± I turned toward where her voice was coming from, and I could have sworn that I saw a faint outline of a person, almost like there was a shadow that had come to life, and decided to lay by me on the bed. I was sure it was just a result of my focus on her, though - I hadn¡¯t seen anything but a glimpse of shoes this whole time, so there was no way she was going to just start appearing as a shadow person now.


    ¡°Are you sure you want to hear it?¡± I asked her, staring into the shadow that I assumed was her. ¡°It¡¯s kind of an unwritten rule of time travel shows in the future that you don¡¯t talk about the past with people from the past.¡±


    ¡°And what does that matter? Those people aren¡¯t here with me, trying to figure this out. If you haven¡¯t noticed, I don¡¯t think that anything we¡¯re doing is particularly typical.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s true, it¡¯s just,¡± I started, hesitating, trying to make a decision, ¡°you died, and I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going to happen then.¡±


    Edith paused for a while, her shadow looking contemplative. ¡°So, I¡¯m not entirely sure what the problem is with that,¡± she started carefully. ¡°Did you not realize that happened at some point? My time is almost a century before yours, and I¡¯m already the oldest person in this house. I¡¯m probably older than you are now, even. And death comes for us all in time - were you surprised that you weren¡¯t talking to a centenarian?¡±


    ¡°No, no, I understood that it¡¯s just¡­Can I ask what year it is?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s 1924. I assume you have an exact year for it, then?¡± I paused, letting that information wash over me. It was the same year that Edith died, meaning that it could happen any day now. I knew it was going to be soon, but I was hoping for at least a little more time to be able to process what was happening. Edith understood my long pause, and I saw the shadow nod its head. ¡°Ahh, it¡¯s soon, then.¡±


    ¡°Do you want to know more about it?¡±


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t think I should. It¡¯d be a waste to spoil one of life¡¯s greatest mysteries for me.¡± She sighed and rolled onto her back. I reached up to run my fingers through her hair, feeling the ice-cold chill of her, but also, it seemed like there was some resistance to it that had not been there before. ¡°The only issue is that I assume that doesn¡¯t leave us much time together, and who knows what will happen then.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I was thinking.¡± I leaned over to kiss her cheek, again feeling some sort of resistance. It was a strange sensation - as though she was there, but had just been pulled out of a bucket of ice. And while I was grateful to be able to feel her skin on mine no matter the temperature, there was a part of me that knew that that would make her death all that much more real. ¡°I was trying to figure out if you¡¯d just cease to exist, or if you¡¯d start your loop over again. And if you started over again, would you still remember me, because I would still remember you, and it¡¯s hard to deal with someone you love not knowing who you are and -¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s a strange way to say it for the first time,¡± she interrupted. I could vaguely see the whites from her teeth as she smiled. ¡°Seems a bit early for the ¡®I love you¡¯s, doesn¡¯t it? It¡¯s been about, what, a month?¡±


    ¡°About that,¡± I said, smiling back at her. I couldn¡¯t help it - even though we were talking about a sad subject, there was still something about being around her that made me happy that we were even allowed to be in the same world. ¡°I mean since you¡¯re dying and all, it seems like something that should be said now rather than later, just in case.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± she said, turning back toward me and planting a kiss on my lips. Though the feeling was a different sort of icy smooth than I was used to, the taste was still the same, and I drew it in for as long as possible. ¡°I love you too.¡± She shuttered, and I reached out my hand to stroke her arm. ¡°I¡¯m fine, it¡¯s just that it feels so weird to say after being alone and independent for such a long time.¡±


    ¡°I mean, the plus side of this relationship is that you still get the chance to be alone and independent in your own time, since I can¡¯t be there. You get to be the badass owner of a brothel, and I¡¯m just the guy who sneaks over once in a while to fuck your brains out.¡±


    She laughed and started to say something, but then I heard the sound of shuffling at the door (hers, I assumed, since I was home alone) before someone called Edith¡¯s name. She looked in the direction of the door, her vibe clearly upset at the interruption, and sighed. ¡°I¡¯ve got to go, duty calls. I hope you can make it back tonight, though. If I¡¯m dying soon, we might as well spend as many nights together as possible.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be here waiting for you,¡± I promised, squeezing her hand one more time before she got up and walked out of the room.


    _________


    ¡°A shadow?¡± Charlie asked. His mouth was agape at the news, with a forkful of pasta halfway to it. We were back at the little diner (what could I say, there was a sort of appeal to the place that I hadn¡¯t noticed until last time), and I was having a hard time telling Charlie about all the updates while also trying to keep his voice down so we didn¡¯t attract the attention of all the other customers. Not that there were a lot there, but there were a few families of older people, and they seemed like the type that would spread a secret to the entire town in 15 minutes. ¡°When I was there, we had to beg for what felt like hours just to get a slight gust of wind, and now you¡¯re seeing a shadow person?!¡±


    ¡°And I can touch her if I want, although she¡¯s really fucking cold, so it¡¯s not something that I look forward to doing a lot,¡± I said nonchalantly, taking a large bite of my burger.


    Charlie stared at me, finally moving the fork to his mouth. ¡°How the hell are you so calm about this? This is one of the biggest paranormal events that the world has ever seen, and you¡¯re just over here acting like this is something that everyone sees every day!¡±


    ¡°Well, when it¡¯s your reality, you do kind of see it every day,¡± I answered with a shrug. ¡°And I¡¯ve been seeing Edith every day for a while now, so whether it¡¯s in her full-bodied form after I go to sleep, or if it¡¯s her shadow form when she¡¯s just there with me, it¡¯s not that weird of a sight at this point.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve been seeing here every day, and you didn¡¯t let me know so that I could come over and investigate for the good of science?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think you want to be in the room while I do what I¡¯ve been doing every day,¡± I said with a sly smile. Charlie choked on his pasta for a moment - the coughing brought eyes over to our table, but they left as soon as he was done.


    ¡°Okay, more important than that, you¡¯ve been getting ghost puss every day and you didn¡¯t let me know about it?¡±


    ¡°You were busy, stuff happens.¡±


    ¡°I will always make time for stories about you getting laid by a ghost. So, quick, tell me all the details.¡±


    I ignored his question, twirling a fry in my ketchup and staring off into space for a moment while he talked about what he imagined fucking a ghost would be like. ¡°The worst part is, though, that she¡¯s going to die soon.¡±


    Charlie stopped mid-sentence to process what I was saying. ¡°I mean, she¡¯s already dead, though, isn¡¯t she? She¡¯s a ghost, and I don¡¯t know all the rules of being a ghost, but I think one of the major ones is that you already have to be dead for it to count.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, she¡¯s already dead, but she¡¯s in her own time, you know? It¡¯s not just like it¡¯s one day looping in eternity. She¡¯s in her own time, and that¡¯s passing by as our time is, and she¡¯s getting closer and closer to the day that she died.¡±


    ¡°Shit.¡± Charlie put down his fork and looked at me, clearly trying to find the right words to say. ¡°Sorry about that. I can tell by the way you talk about her that she means a lot to you. And I assume there¡¯s nothing that can be done about it?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°There might be, I¡¯m not entirely sure how this loop of hers works. But she didn¡¯t want to know what happened exactly, and I¡¯m not going to force her to know. So, I guess we¡¯re stuck on the two options of her either starting whatever process of this loop is all over again, or her being gone for eternity. Maybe that means she¡¯s going to finally be at peace?¡±


    Stolen story; please report.


    ¡°If she wasn¡¯t at peace the first time she died, what makes you think she will be now?¡± Charlie said, a hint of anger in his voice. ¡°Fuck that, though. I get being all stoic about your death if it¡¯s inevitable, and I don¡¯t know the situation, so maybe it is inevitable for her, but it sure doesn¡¯t sound like something you should just be ignoring if there¡¯s a chance that it could save her. And since you¡¯re sure that you¡¯re not messing up the timeline with this and making it so your grandpa never got the house, meaning you¡¯ve got to come crash on my couch for the rest of eternity, it only makes sense for you to try to change it! I doubt she¡¯s reliving the time of her death just because she enjoyed it so much, after all.¡±


    Charlie had a point, and it was a frustrating one, per usual. ¡°I can¡¯t just convince someone that they need me to tell them how and when they died!¡±


    ¡°The fuck you can¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°And I don¡¯t even know the date for sure!¡± I continued. ¡°The lady at the historical society gave me a year and the manner of her death, but she didn¡¯t get into a ton of specifics. Edith lived a life kind of outside of the realm of history, so it makes it a little difficult to know specifics.¡±


    ¡°Oh damn, if only there was something like a graveyard where we could go and find her tombstone that probably has her date of death on it,¡± Charlie said sarcastically.


    I stared at him for a moment, processing what he had said - I was half surprised that I didn¡¯t come up with that idea myself, but Charlie was always the ideas man. I stuffed the rest of my burger into my mouth and waved at the waitress to bring us our check. ¡°You know, you and your ideas really suck sometimes.¡±


    Charlie smiled brightly at me. ¡°You¡¯re free to just thank me for them next time, but you¡¯re welcome.¡±


    _________


    After a quick Google search, we realized that there were only two cemeteries in town that were open at that time, and one was a Catholic cemetery connected to the church.  While I had no problem with Edith¡¯s profession, something told me that the Catholic church would take offense to it, especially at that time, so we opted to try the other one first. We arrived, pulling through the huge gates that led to acres and acres of sprawling gravesites. I sighed when I first saw it - I hadn¡¯t spent much time in graveyards other than during funerals, and usually, then, I wasn¡¯t in the mood to look around them. When Charlie had suggested the dinner, it seemed like it would be such a quick trip - look through a couple of graves for about an hour, then head on back to my house to further discuss if trying to further convince Edith was the right option. Looking at the graveyard as a whole, though, I knew we could be looking for days, trying to find the right name.


    ¡®This is going to take forever,¡± I complained to Charlie. He had kept his eyes on the cemetery road, traveling toward the back. Unlike myself, he was someone who liked to come to the graveyard to walk around and look at some of the historical graves that we housed, so I figured that he had a better idea of where to start than I did. ¡°By the time we find it, she¡¯ll have died again already, and this will have all been for nothing.¡±


    ¡°I see we¡¯ve got our pessimism on today,¡± he chuckled, taking a left turn at a fork in the road. ¡°It¡¯s not going to take nearly as long as you think it will. Yeah, this is a big graveyard, but it¡¯s also the oldest one in the county. When you¡¯ve had people dying for hundreds of years, the gravesites can start to add up. But most of these are newer. The entire first half is from the 1950s or later, and that¡¯s not what we¡¯re looking for. And the way far back is almost all the earliest ones, from about the 1800s. That¡¯s a little too early for us, so we know we¡¯re somewhere near that section, but not quite there. Plus,¡± he said, pulling to a stop at a small building off to the side of the road. From the front, I had thought it was a mausoleum, but from here, I could see people moving inside of it - hopefully, it was an office instead. ¡°We have the added benefit of people having already looked at and cataloged all the graves from this section. After all, the historical society is not the only group of history nerds in these parts. These guys do it for a living, so I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if they could tell us where to go based on memory alone. Come on,¡± he said, unbuckling his seat belt.


    We walked over the grass toward the building. Even though this was still a working office, there were gravesites surrounding it on the ground, as though it were once a gravesite itself. As we moved closer, though, I saw crosses carved into the side, and I realized that it may once have been a tiny church for the mourners. The door was large and wooden, and the sound that it made when Charlie knocked on it made it seem like it was solid oak, the sort that had been there since the graveyard had been set up.


    After a few minutes, a small, mousey-looking woman came to the door. She pushed her eyeglasses up her nose to get a better look at us. Something panged in my chest - there was something about her that reminded me of Edith, although I couldn¡¯t place what. Her hair was similar, I suppose - brown, and tied up in a neat bun - but otherwise I couldn¡¯t place what the familiarity was. ¡°Can I help you two?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Yeah, hi, my name¡¯s Charlie, and this is Brian. We¡¯re hoping that you could help us find the gravestone of the person who used to live in Brian¡¯s house. Edith¡­¡± Charlie slowed, looking at me.


    ¡°Bowman,¡± I filled in for him. ¡°She died in 1924.¡±


    ¡°Ah, it¡¯s not very often that we look up graves that old in our database. Family history project?¡± she guessed.


    ¡°Something like that,¡± Charlie said with a shrug.


    ¡°Well, come in. It¡¯ll take me a minute to find it - the registry computer is not as fast as it once was. In the meantime, Kyle,¡± she said, gesturing to a teenaged-looking man in the corner, ¡°could you give them the tour and let them know what we¡¯re working on?¡±


    ¡°Sure thing, Mallory,¡± he said, bouncing up from his seat and coming over to greet us. He held his hand out for a handshake and I took it. His handshake was a little too firm like a young man trying too hard to make a good first impression. ¡°As Mallory said, I¡¯m Kyle.¡±


    ¡°Charlie, Brian,¡± Charlie said, pointing to each of us in turn.


    ¡°Welcome, Charlie and Brian! This is the visitor¡¯s center and research lab for this part of Mount Mary¡¯s cemetery, but right now it¡¯s mostly the research lab because there¡¯s not usually a ton of visitors in this area. There¡¯s not a lot to see of the tour,¡± he gestured around the large room - There was one offshoot that I assumed was the restroom, but other than that, he was right, you could pretty much see it all from where we stood, ¡°but what we¡¯re working on is interesting. You see, there were several gravesites in the cemetery where the stones were removed or broken to such a state that we are unable to figure out who was originally buried there. That wouldn¡¯t be a problem for a lot of modern-day cemeteries, but unfortunately, the original gravesite records were destroyed in a fire in the 1940s, so we can¡¯t use those to look them up. So, we¡¯ve been trying to piece together who was buried where through a variety of other notes and images that were left behind by the original cemetery workers. Luckily, we happen to be in a county where the gravediggers did keep a schedule of their work, so we have that, plus some invoices for families. It¡¯s not a ton, and sometimes it¡¯s hard to find the right people but I like puzzles.


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised that Mallory didn¡¯t recognize Edith Bowman¡¯s name,¡± he continued. ¡°After all, we just saw a record of hers last week - Not her grave, mind, but I assume hers is most likely fairly close. I don¡¯t remember seeing that name on one of the tombstones I¡¯ve cleaned recently, so it¡¯s quite possible that hers is one that was destroyed as well. As I¡¯m sure you¡¯re aware, she ran The Blue Room, and brothels were a thing that was a little controversial in town, so most of them did get destroyed. But as I was saying, we just located the grave of Mabel Whittaker last week because of an invoice assigned to Edith Bowman. She¡¯s now been given a new plaque - not super expensive, but enough to identify who she is if one of her relatives were to come looking, or if someone were interested in the history of some of the townsfolk.¡± Kyle pulled out his phone and after a second, showed me the picture of a small metal marker on the grass reading ¡°Mabel Whittaker, ¨C 1934.¡± He waited for me to read it fully, then explained ¡°We couldn¡¯t put the birth year on there, because we don¡¯t have a record of when she was born. You¡¯d think the hospital would have one, but, before the 1900s, it was a little more iffy if someone was born in a hospital or not. But yes, a new stainless steel marker that should hopefully last for some time to come, courtesy of a generous donation from a patron of our historical society.¡±


    At that time, Mallory came walking back toward us, and I could tell from her face that she didn¡¯t have the best news. ¡°I¡¯m sure Kyle explained the project to you?¡± she asked, and Charlie nodded. ¡°Well, unfortunately, it looks like we haven¡¯t been able to narrow down her grave yet. I¡¯m glad you came here first, instead of just trying to find it. I can tell you the general area of where it probably is - I¡¯m fairly certain that The Blue Room paid in advance for several plots, so she¡¯s most likely in that area. But I am unfortunately not able to tell you the exact space. However,¡± she said, handing me two pieces of paper, ¡°I did print off what information we had - I know it¡¯s not a lot, but you can at least find the general area, which might be of interest to you.¡±


    Charlie took the papers out of my hand - I didn¡¯t mind. I felt like every time I was getting one step closer to figuring things out, something got in the way. I guess that¡¯s what happens when you¡¯re trying to find information about a person before the internet was created. She was outside of the law, but not so outside that she was infamous. A lot of information about her was lost to time, and I was going to have to find some way to be okay with that.


    Charlie, however, was not that sort of a person. He thanked Mallory, distractedly reading through all of the papers. ¡°Okay, I think I have a general idea where it might be,¡± he said, leading me out the door and back through the gravesites. He didn¡¯t wind his way back to the car, instead leading me farther toward a grass-covered field. There were a few gravestones cluttering it, but not many, and I assumed that that meant that it was an area where most of the gravestones had been destroyed, as there was no room in the older areas for free space. We walked, unsure if we were stepping on graves or the grass around it, but sure at this point, any spirits still around their bodies were probably used to it.


    ¡°So,¡± Charlie said, coming to a stop in the middle of a fairly open area of the ground, ¡°I think this should be about it, but it¡¯s hard to tell without grave markings. Look for Mabel¡¯s plaque.¡±


    I looked at the ground, trying to see anything other than the grass. Finally, after a few minutes of walking around, a hint of silver glinted out of the ground. ¡°Found it!¡± I called, and Charlie walked over to me. I crouched down to read the inscription - Mabel Whittaker.


    ¡°So, she¡¯s got to be buried somewhere around here,¡± Charlie said, looking around at the blank plots of land. ¡°Not that that will help us with what we¡¯re looking for, but maybe it will give you some sense of closure to the ¡®she¡¯s already dead¡¯ thing. That¡¯s the weird thing with meeting a ghost - the closure should have already happened before you even met them.¡± He dug his nose back into the papers, perhaps trying to see if there was any more information that would be useful.


    I didn¡¯t need a paper to see where she was buried, though. As soon as I crouched down to read Mabel¡¯s insignia, I could feel it. There was a pull, deep inside my stomach, toward a space of land about ten feet to the left of where I was crouching. I stood up, following my sixth sense to the space. Though the air was chill with the approaching fall temperature, there was something about that space that felt warm, maybe even a little homey. I swore I was able to smell the scent of her as I stood there, but I realized that it was most likely just my imagination. The feeling wasn¡¯t, though. I crouched down on the ground over her gravesite. The pull of her from down there was so strong that I almost fell over, but I somehow managed to keep my footing. I put a hand down on the ground, just to feel what I could of her. It was Edith, but there was something about the damp earth that felt so alive to me. ¡°She¡¯s over here,¡± I called to Charlie.


    Charlie came sauntering over, looking at the ground. ¡°How do you know that? It could be any one of these plots.¡±


    ¡°I can just feel it,¡± I said with a shrug.


    Charlie thought that over for a second. ¡°Makes about as much sense to me as anything else related to this,¡± he finally said. He copied my movements and crouched down on the ground with his hand on the grass. I could see that he was trying to sense something, but it just wasn¡¯t coming to him. Maybe I was just more sensitive than he was, or maybe she was just more connected to me. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve got nothing, but I still believe what you¡¯re saying,¡¯ he said, standing up and dusting the dirt off his palms. ¡°And with that, I have both good and bad news. Which would you rather hear first?¡±


    ¡°I guess the good?¡± I said questioningly.


    ¡°Okay, well, the good news is that they did find her date of death, which I suppose makes sense. It was probably in a newspaper or something, I would imagine.¡±


    I stood up, too. I don¡¯t know why it surprised me that they had that bit of information, but Charlie was right - if they had anything, that¡¯s the sort of information that made sense. ¡°And the bad news?¡±


    ¡°The bad news is that it¡¯s October 24th.¡± Less than a week from today. Jesus, I wasn¡¯t ready for that sort of bad news. I stared down at the grave again, trying to process it. ¡°That means,¡± Charlie continued, ¡°that if we¡¯re going to be able to convince her to let us tell her how she dies to save her ghost life, we have to start working on it pretty quick.¡±


    I thought over what he said for a moment and then nodded, heading back toward the car. ¡°I have no idea how we¡¯re going to pull it off, but I do think we should at least try.¡± Charlie, in apparent agreement, followed me back to the car, and we headed off to the house.


    __________


    The house always felt colder whenever Edith wasn¡¯t around - I knew that was a bad sign for me, considering what was coming, but I couldn¡¯t help but notice the chill as we walked through the front door. It had grown close tonight as we drove back, so it was no wonder why Edith wasn¡¯t in the main parlor, but I had still gotten my hopes up. ¡°Alright, lover boy,¡¯ Charlie joked at me. ¡°Do you know where she is, or do you have any way to get in contact with her? I can start yelling at random if need be.¡±


    ¡°Well, from what I¡¯ve heard, that might attract some of the ghosts,¡± I admitted. ¡°Might not be the best way to get to talk to Edith, though.¡±


    ¡°Fair.¡±


    ¡°It seems like it¡¯s a bit too early for her to be in the bedroom. And I don¡¯t want to blow up her reputation by making it obvious that two men are looking for her.¡± I thought for a moment and then realized. ¡°We could try calling for Alice! She is already aware of me, and she was willing to get Edith last time!¡±


    ¡°So many god damned ghosts in this house and I was hardly able to get a gust of wind,¡± Charlie complained, mostly under his breath. I ignored him and started walking through the rooms calling for Alice. I wandered the bottom floor, Duke by my side, and Charlie must have taken the top floor, as he was no longer with me. I could hear him through the floorboards, though, gruffly yelling Alice¡¯s name. I rolled my eyes - if Charlie was yelling for me, I wouldn¡¯t want to go, either.


    ¡°You¡¯re making quite a racket, you know,¡± Alice said from behind me. Her voice sounded whimsical, as though she was confused by what was going on, but wasn¡¯t upset by it. ¡°I think some of the girls upstairs have heard your friend.¡±


    I turned around to find a shadow, much like I had seen when talking with Edith. Alice was shorter than I had imagined, with a very petite frame, almost like she was a teenager rather than the adults that worked here. I still couldn¡¯t make out much of her features in the darkness, but I looked where I assumed her eyes were. ¡°Yeah, sorry about Charlie,¡± I said. ¡°He¡¯s never been much of one for subtlety.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine. I don¡¯t mind there being a little bit of question as to why the voices in the dark know me. It adds to the mysterious appeal when others can hear the ghosts talk back. But if you can get him to stop before he bothers the guests too much?¡±


    ¡°Sure, not a problem.¡± I took out my phone and texted Charlie the all-clear. ¡°He¡¯ll stop as soon as he gets my message.¡±


    ¡°The future is so odd. I¡¯m glad that I¡¯m still around to get to see some of it!¡± She said, leaning over to look at my phone. I wondered if she was able to see more than the shadow I could. ¡°Fascinating thing. Now, what is it that you wanted from me? There¡¯s a customer in the entry, so I can¡¯t be long.¡±


    ¡°Right, sorry. Could you please go get Edith for me again? I didn¡¯t want to make things weird for her by yelling her name throughout the house, but you¡¯re able to see her better than I am.¡±


    ¡°Understandable, and much appreciated. I don¡¯t personally care what you two are about, but I¡¯d much rather continue to be employed.¡±


    ¡°Gotcha. I won¡¯t call for her again.¡±


    ¡°You won¡¯t have much of an opportunity to,¡± she said. ¡°Her death is right around the corner again.¡±


    ¡°Did you get something?¡± Charlie asked, coming around the corner. I held up a finger to shush him and then pointed at the shadowy mass in front of me. I could see his eyes stare right through her. Apparently, the shadows were only visible to me, I realized.


    ¡°You mean you know about her death?¡± I asked.  Charlie¡¯s eyes widened, and he quietly took a seat in one of the living room chairs.


    ¡°Of course!¡± Alice said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. ¡°She doesn¡¯t, though. We¡¯ve been through this loop so many times, and the first few times, I tried to tell her, but after that, I gave up my attempts. She¡¯s quite stubborn, you know.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I know,¡± I said, nearly grinning, but I brought myself back to the conversation at hand at the last moment. ¡°But if she doesn¡¯t know about it, how do you?¡±


    ¡°There are definite perks to being a spiritualist. One of those perks is that you notice when things just aren¡¯t adding up, and when you feel like you¡¯ve done something before. Most people ignore those signs, but I don¡¯t, so it¡¯s easy to tell.¡±


    I nodded, knowing that I didn¡¯t fully grasp the concept, but I probably understood it as well as I was going to that night. I wasn¡¯t going to waste my potentially last few days of Edith knowing who I am by chatting with Alice all night. ¡°Do you think, if I told her, it would make a difference?¡±


    Alice¡¯s shadow figure shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not sure - she wasn¡¯t in love with me, so that might make a difference. The loop doesn¡¯t stop with her death, though - we keep going until I assume all of us die, although I¡¯m admittedly not the last, so I¡¯m not sure.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯ve never been able to avoid your death to see?¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°Pneumonia. Kind of a hard thing to avoid for someone who works with the public in a cold climate. Mary did at one point, but she disappeared from the loop long ago.¡±


    ¡°When she managed to survive?¡± I asked excitedly, but Alice shook her head.


    ¡°No, it was after that at some point. When she disappeared, it was just the middle of a weekday. She went to another room to do chores, and then poof, just gone, haven¡¯t seen her since.¡±


    ¡°Okay, so¡­.¡± I started slowly, trying to process it all.


    Charlie took that opportunity to cut in. ¡°What¡¯s she saying?¡± he hissed under his breath.


    ¡°She knows about the loop. She¡¯s saying that stopping the loop won¡¯t save Edith, but that something is making them disappear. First someone named Mary, and now Mabel.¡±


    ¡°And don¡¯t forget Claire,¡± Alice mentioned.


    ¡°And someone named Claire.¡±


    ¡°Tell Charlie I said hi,¡± Alice said with a little wave.


    ¡°Alice says hi, too, by the way.¡±


    Charlie smiled. ¡°Can she hear me?¡± Alice nodded, and I did so in response. ¡°Hi, Alice! Great to have you here. I was always hoping to interact with a ghost. Not sure why Brian can see you and I can¡¯t, but at least we can chat this way. So, how did those other women disappear?¡±


    ¡°No one knows, they just up and vanished one day,¡± Alice answered, and I relayed the information to Charlie.


    ¡°Interesting,¡± he said, rubbing his chin in thought. ¡°So, have y¡¯all been here just in a loop since your deaths, and then had other women join in?¡±


    ¡°Oh no, definitely not. We all showed up around the same time, and have just been here since.¡±


    ¡°And what time did you show up?¡± Charlie asked, getting out of his chair and looking excitedly near where I was looking, although I could tell from his unfocused eyes that he wasn¡¯t able to see anything.


    ¡°Unfortunately, I¡¯m not sure. A dozen loops ago? It¡¯s hard to keep track.¡±


    ¡°And how long is a loop?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure, since nobody else remembers much of anything, other than a sense of deja vu. I would guess around 10 to 15?¡±


    I could see Charlie doing calculations in his head. ¡°Well, I have an idea, but you might not like it.¡±


    ¡°What sort of idea?¡±


    ¡°If I¡¯m adding everything up correctly, I¡¯m thinking that to move on, they need their headstones to be replaced.¡±


    I could see Alice considering the proposition at the same time I was. ¡°That would make a certain amount of sense,¡± Alice answered. ¡°As sad as it is to say, a lot of us were forgotten in our old lives, before we made it to The Blue Room. This whole ghost thing might be a way to keep us from being forgotten by the world again.¡±


    I reiterated what Alice said to Charlie, and he smiled brightly. ¡°Then it¡¯s settled! We¡¯ll go tell the people at the site where Edith¡¯s grave is, and then she can be free from this eternal loop.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s that simple¡­¡± I started, but Charlie cut me off.


    ¡°It is that simple, but you don¡¯t want it to be that simple.¡± I nodded my head, looking down at the floor. I felt bad that my wishes were to keep her in her situation, but on the other hand, she didn¡¯t seem particularly upset about being there. ¡°I get it, man. It¡¯s a tough thing to do, and if you¡¯d rather, we can wait until after she¡¯s died in this loop to do it. But you can¡¯t just keep having her loop around for your enjoyment. It¡¯s selfish to keep her trapped if we can figure out a way to let her go.¡±


    ¡°I hate that you¡¯re right, but you¡¯re right. But I need to at least have the chance to say goodbye.¡±


    Charlie walked up to me and clapped his hand on my shoulder for a moment, before apparently changing his mind and pulling me in for a hug. ¡°I know, man, and I would never do that to you. You take whatever time you need, and I¡¯ll start making arrangements so that when you¡¯re ready, we can let her go. I¡¯m going to head out and let you guys be alone, but you know I¡¯m just a phone call away if you need me, right?¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± I said, fighting back tears. Charlie gruffly patted my shoulder again, then headed for the door. I watched him leave and then turned back to face the spot where Alice had been - apparently in the conversation, she had decided to slink off as well. That was fine, I thought. I needed some time to be alone. But more than that, I needed time to talk with Edith.

 Chapter 12

    My room was dark and lifeless when I got there - there was a part of me that was hoping that Edith would already be there waiting, ready to cheer me up, or at least ready to discuss what needed to be done. On the other hand, I was happy to have some time alone with my thoughts.


    I threw myself down onto the bed, closing my eyes to be able to better focus on my thoughts. I knew I had to let her go - keeping someone in a loop was not only a pointless endeavor but keeping her there against her will was tantamount to torture. I was planning on asking her what her thoughts were on the matter. Part of me hoped that she¡¯d feel the way I did - that she¡¯d want to stick around here for a while longer so that we could enjoy the time we had. Another part of me felt sure that she wouldn¡¯t want to wait, though - Edith didn¡¯t seem like the kind of person who would take staying as a ghost lightly, and I think she¡¯d want to move on as soon as she was able to.


    Not to mention the other women in the house. Plus that whole section of the graveyard - if the gravestones had all been destroyed, didn¡¯t that mean there were a ton of ghosts that were just walking around town that I wasn¡¯t seeing for some reason? Maybe it was my duty to help them all find their way to peace - although I certainly didn¡¯t hope that it was something that had to come from an intimate relationship.


    ¡°You certainly look blue,¡± Edith¡¯s voice sang from beside me. I jumped lightly - I hadn¡¯t even heard her come in, but I suppose she didn¡¯t have to deal with such pesky nonsense as doors. Her shadow stood next to the bed - it was hard to tell if it was just my imagination, but it seemed lighter than before, as though she were coming more into focus. I could even lightly see the expression on her face - full concern for me. ¡°Is there anything that I can help with?¡±


    I sat up on the side of the bed, then patted next to me for her to sit. She did so without question, still looking at me with a mixture of curiosity and concern. ¡°You know this whole thing,¡± I said, gesturing between us, not sure where to start.


    ¡°Do you mean our relationship, or us being able to see each other through time?¡±


    ¡°See each other through time,¡± I quickly answered. ¡°Our relationship is great, and I have no complaints other than the whole you being dead thing.¡± She nodded to show that she was following, curiosity taking over the concern on her face now that she knew that we were all alright. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­okay, what all do you know about your situation?¡±


    ¡°Well, I know Alice has been calling it a time loop. She¡¯s filled me in on a lot since you started showing up.¡±


    ¡°Okay, great, I guess that makes this a little easier,¡± I said, wringing my hands while I tried to figure out how to phrase what needed to be said. ¡°Well, my friend Charlie and I think we have come up with a way to get you out of the loop.¡±


    ¡°Oh really?¡± she said, excitement tingling her voice.


    ¡°Yep. The only thing is, it¡¯s what happened to Mabel, too. You can stop the loop, but you disappear.¡±


    Edith paused, clearly thinking it over for the moment. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you could come here to think it over with me?¡± she asked. ¡°It¡¯s a lot to process, and I could use you here.¡±


    ¡°I can certainly try,¡± I said, slipping my legs past her form to lie on the bed. Her shadow slipped off the bed and walked around to the other side to lay beside me. ¡°I can¡¯t promise that I¡¯m going to be able to get to sleep, though.¡±


    ¡°I would expect not, but it¡¯s worth the attempt.¡± Her hand reached up to run through my hair, the icy chill of it leaving a streak of cold on my scalp. ¡°So, tell me, what did you figure out?¡±


    ¡°Well, in your section of the graveyard, there are a lot of headstones missing. There''s a group of people who are working to figure out who is buried where so they can put new markers on the graves. The location of Mabel¡¯s grave was just discovered last week.¡±


    Edith took a moment to pause and consider what I had said. I¡¯m sure it was a lot to take in, as someone who went from happily living their lives to finding out they¡¯re a ghost in a loop that will be potentially stopped, all in the span of a month. The quiet of her thinking, though, was enough to start to lull me into a tired mood. It was always such a weird sensation when she started making me tired when I was near her - it was like she was trying to lure me into her world without realizing that I would be more than happy to go regardless.  Within about 30 seconds, I could feel my eyelids drop, and I chose to just give into it, closing my eyes and willing that I would be asleep the next time they opened.


    ¡°And you know where my grave is?¡± she finally asked quietly.


    ¡°I do,¡± I answered. ¡°I have nothing to prove it, but it was so weird. It was like I could feel it pulling me toward it. Toward you. Or your body at least. I knew exactly where it was the minute I got close to it.¡±


    I felt her hand on my cheek, a warm touch rather than chilled, and I opened my eyes to find myself staring into Edith¡¯s eyes. She seemed concerned, but it didn¡¯t seem like she was concerned about her future - rather like she was concerned about what was going to happen to those around her.  She stared into my eyes, contemplating. Finally, to break the silence, I started talking, partially at her, but mostly to myself. ¡°I mean, it feels weird to talk about now, but it somehow didn¡¯t seem weird at the time. I think there was a part of me that was expecting it. I mean, I''m drawn to you when you''re around in this form, so it only makes sense that I would be drawn to you in other forms, and -"


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    Edith placed her soft hand over my mouth, and I stopped speaking instantly. She paused for a beat, and when she finally spoke, there was resolve in her voice. "I want you to do it."


    "To find your grave and put a headstone on it?"


    "Whatever it is that will finally break this cycle." She paused again, looking into my eyes, then she sighed. "I don''t want to ruin this. This has been one of the happiest times of my life. Of all my lives, apparently.  But I can''t just keep going on in a loop like this. I need to see what''s out there again, beyond this part of life, and I need to move on. And you need to be able to move on with your life, too. You need to be able to find some woman who is full of life, who can be with you when you''re awake, and who can be there for you when you grow old. I can''t do that, and I can''t be that. I love you, but this has to stop."


    I could tell she was trying to hold back the tears that were welling up in her eyes. I was, too, and I was doing a much worse job at it than she was. ¡°I understand,¡± I said, grabbing her hand from my face and squeezing it. ¡°You¡¯ve got to do what you¡¯ve got to do, and I will be there to support you. I¡¯ll make sure that we get a stone on there as soon as possible.¡± I felt a tear roll down my cheek and I swiped with both our hands to wipe it away. ¡°For everyone else here, too - I¡¯ll dig through all the records I need to to get it figured out.¡±


    ¡°I know you will,¡± she said, pulling my hand to the other side to wipe off another tear that I hadn¡¯t yet noticed. ¡°Now shush, no more tears.¡± She took her hand from mine and ran it through my hair in a soothing manner. ¡°If I¡¯ve only got a little while left on this earth, I don¡¯t want to spend it being sad. I want to spend it with you, enjoying your company. I¡¯ve waited this long for this, and it¡¯s about to get cut short, so let¡¯s enjoy it while it lasts.¡±


    She pushed her lips into mine, and I tasted the faint hint of wine that always appeared on her tongue.  Her lips were soft, but solid enough that I knew I had fallen asleep at some point while she was talking.  For possibly the last time in my life, I wasn¡¯t upset at that fact.


    I reached one hand up to Edith¡¯s hair, winding between the locks in an attempt to lock her to myself.  I felt her pause for a moment, unused to the possessive behavior. Then, she gave in, slowly moving her lips like mine in a way that was far too slow and easy for the situation. I fought the urge to kiss her harder - if this was possibly one of her last nights on Earth, we would do what she wanted.


    I felt Edith¡¯s lips pull up into a small smile, as though she were able to feel my thoughts through my lips.  Then, she flicked her tongue out, breaking between my lips to kiss me hard.


    There was passion in the kiss but also regret knowledge, and even some sort of affection that I could have sworn bordered on love.  The feelings came from both sides and as our mouths worked together, I lost sight of whose thoughts were whose. I pulled my hand out of her hair to start fumbling with the ties on her dress.  It was hard enough to get them unlaced when I was able to see them, but it was an entirely different ballgame to do it one-handed behind her back.  Edith knew this was the case as well - she pulled away, despite my trying to follow her as far as my head would let me.  Then she sat up on the bed and undid the ties of her dress, allowing me to see the supple curve of her back one more time.


    I reached up to help push the dress off her shoulders, but she was already pulling it to the ground, so instead I focused on watching her, drinking in every last image that I would get.


    Edith turned toward me, her breasts slightly bouncing with the movement, and I felt my cock tighten against my pants. She looked down at them, clearly able to see that it was happening. ¡°I know this is a bit of a new moment for both of us,¡± she said with a laugh in her voice, ¡°but I would have thought you would have remembered how to undo your pants.¡±


    ¡°I mean, I thought you would have wanted to help me with them,¡± I said, immediately reaching down to undo my zipper.


    ¡°Thrilling as it may be, I¡¯d rather just be riding your cock than undressing it,¡± she said, though her eyes never wavered from my hands as they peeled off first my pants and shirt, before pulling down my boxers to expose my full-length.  The look in her eyes was hungry as she savored the moment.


    I walked around the bed, and her eyes flicked up to mine at the start of the movement.  I stepped toward her and wound my arm around her waist, turning her away from the bed to face me. She stared into my eyes, but I still put my finger under her chin, as though to hold her attention. ¡°Thrilling is not the name of the game,¡± I said, a slight growl catching my voice. ¡°Tonight is about making the time we still have count.¡±


    Edith smiled at me, raising a brow. ¡°I would have never figured you to be the type to come up with that sort of a cheesy line.¡±


    I answered her smile with one of my own. ¡°Only with you around.¡± I pushed her backward slightly onto the bed before I crawled up with her.  I put a knee between hers, using it to nudge her legs open, an instruction which she happily followed.  I crawled up her body, allowing my eyes to graze along her sex, her stomach, her breasts, her neck, before finally meeting her eyes.  I could see the need in her eyes, reflected in my own.


    I leaned forward to kiss her deeply.  As I moved, I felt a warm touch on my rock-hard cock - somehow she had snaked her hand between us, and I felt her move her hand up and down the smooth skin of the shaft once, twice, before she lined it up with the wet heat of her opening. I had a hard time believing that someone could be more clear about their intentions than that.


    At her command, I kissed her deeply as I pushed myself inside her. Despite the amount of times I had been inside her, I still felt her give a small gasp against my lips before I felt her hand on my ass, pulling my father inside her.  I pulled out nearly to the tip, then plunged myself inside of her as I felt the inside walls of her clamping against me. Despite her body¡¯s reactions, though, Edith¡¯s eyes looked crystal clear as she pressed her hand against one side of my chest, pushing me off of her before she climbed back on.  She wasted no time lining herself back up on my cock and happily plunging down on it. ¡°I said,¡± she said through heavy pants, ¡°that I was the one who wanted to ride.¡±


    I didn¡¯t object, as I watched her breasts bounce in time with her movements, the sound of her heavy breaths as the musical accompaniment.  One of my hands gripped roughly on her thighs, my fingertips imprinting into the light skin in a way that may have marked her were she still alive.  The other hand trailed its way up her body, flicking lightly over her clit before it ascended past her mound and over her stomach until it found its final resting spot on her breast. I squeezed the supple flesh as she rode, my thumb finding its way over her peaked nipple.  She gasped at the sensation, grinding harder into me as I felt the climax rise in my core. I could tell Edith was getting close, too, as her breathing hitched with each of her movements.  I thought about saying something to help get her over the edge, but when I looked up at her writhing body, my mind went blank, as though needing only to burn this image into my memory.


    Moments later, I felt her muscles start to clench around me, which caused me to find my release. I saw stars, concentrating on the feeling and what little of Edith¡¯s face I could still make out.  Then, as the room started to fall back into place and Edith pulled herself off me to crawl into my arms, I saw the silver of tears just starting to brim at her eyes. I could tell I was the same, and she reached up a hand to wipe them away.  I caught it in mid-movement, holding onto her hand like a lifeline.  ¡°Leave it,¡± I whispered, curling my fingers around hers. ¡°I¡¯m not much for sentimentality, but if any night seems like the right time, this is it.¡±


    ¡°Sure you¡¯re not, you big crybaby,¡± she teased, a tear finally rolling down her cheek. ¡°I thought we said we weren¡¯t going to spend this night being sad.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not. I¡¯m spending this night being happy that I got to spend at least this small amount of time with you.¡± Edith smiled at me, and I moved to kiss her again.

 Chapter 13

    The drive to the historical society the next morning was a painful one. Charlie thankfully was smart enough to offer to drive, so I was able to just stare out the window. By the time I started seeing headstones, I had finally worked up the nerve to finally share the details of last night with Charlie. He listened dutifully, only letting out a sigh once I was done.


    ¡°Jesus, buddy,¡± he said after a heartbeat. ¡°I knew you were down bad for her. I just didn¡¯t know it was that bad.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t either until last night,¡± I admitted. While I suppose that I had gotten enough sleep, as I lay there for as long as I could, holding Edith in my arms, it certainly felt like I¡¯d been up for weeks. ¡°And now that I finally found someone that means that much to me, I have to let her go.¡±


    ¡°Life is cruel like that,¡± Charlie said with a nod. ¡°But was it worth the pain to experience it?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I choked back a sob. ¡°It was all worth it, but that just makes it hurt more.¡±


    Charlie nodded solemnly. ¡°It will for a while. For a while, it¡¯s going to be killer. But eventually, the pain will take a step back, and you¡¯ll be able to better focus on the good moments.¡±


    I nodded back, trying to believe him. Right now, that future seemed a good distance off, but time had passed since Edith had died the first time, and the world had moved on. The world would move on from this, too. It just might take longer for the world to adjust for some of us.


    __________


    The historical society was confused when Charlie tried to explain how we knew where the gravesite was. He of course didn¡¯t tell them the actual truth, but instead just stated that he had been doing his research and found it, but wasn¡¯t going to be able to provide them with the details. They said they would look into it, but nothing would be happening until they could get their hands on verifiable information. There was a part of me that was so glad that they weren¡¯t going to be placing headstones at random that I wanted to hug them. There was also a part of me, though, that felt dejected as we left the building.


    Charlie could sense the tension rolling off of me as we walked to the car.  He chucked an arm around my shoulder, as though he could sense that I needed extra support. ¡°I got you, bud. I know it¡¯s going to be a rough time for a while.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not that,¡± I said, shaking him off. ¡°It¡¯s just that¡­it feels like we failed. Like I failed. The one thing that Edith specifically said that she wanted from me, and I couldn¡¯t even do that.¡±


    Charlie cocked an eyebrow at me. ¡°Who said you failed at it?¡± I looked back at him, confused. It seemed so obvious to me that Edith would want the gravesite to be marked as soon as possible, but maybe I hadn¡¯t fully explained the idea to him. I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off. ¡°The historical society said that they couldn¡¯t mark it until they did some research, which is fair enough. They didn¡¯t say shit about us being able to mark it.¡±


    I took a moment to process what he was saying, slowly feeling a smile spread across my face. ¡°Charlie, you¡¯re a goddamn genius.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been told that once or twice in my day. Now come on - I don¡¯t know if the monument place would be able to get a permanent stone monument any time soon, but I¡¯ve got a buddy that has some wood-burning tools and a bunch of spare boards.¡±


    He started walking toward his truck and I followed. ¡°Do you think that will work? It¡¯s not a monument.¡±


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°It¡¯s not, but we¡¯re just looking for a grave marker at the moment. Our other option is a piece of notebook paper, and something tells me that you¡¯d rather have the wood. It¡¯s not a long-term solution, but it should hold until the historical society gets its shit in gear and gets a stone one. We can even make it all pretty and shit - I¡¯m sure Edith would like that.¡±


    I grinned at him, picturing her reaction. ¡°I bet she would. She¡¯s not much of a flowery person, but I bet she¡¯d make an exception for this.¡±


    __________


    Four hours later, we returned to the cemetery, an armload of wooden plaques in tow with each of us. ¡°You ready for this?¡± Charlie asked me, gesturing his head in the relative direction that he knew Edith¡¯s grave was.


    ¡°No,¡± I admitted. ¡°But I don¡¯t know if there¡¯s any other prepping that we can do that would make me ready for it, so let¡¯s just get on with it.¡±


    I walked over to where I felt Edith¡¯s presence. It wasn¡¯t the same as it was in the house - I didn¡¯t feel her there with me, but more like she¡¯d just left a room and I could still smell her perfume. I knelt on the ground, placing my armload of plaques next to the grave and picking up Edith¡¯s. I stared at it, trying to will myself to put it down. Even though I knew that was what she would want, I had a hard time willing myself to do it.


    Charlie¡¯s friend had done great work, I thought. Each of the plaques stated the woman¡¯s name, as well as a flower. He¡¯d chosen a rose for Edith, and I thought it was fitting - something so beautiful, yet prickly if you wronged it.


    I felt movement next to me and turned to find Charlie kneeling next to me. I tilted my head in question, and he nodded to let me know that he understood how difficult it was. ¡°I didn¡¯t know Edith very long,¡± he started. ¡°Or, I guess I should say, I didn¡¯t know her at all really, other than dealing with some of her cold spots. But from what you¡¯ve told me, those cold spots weren¡¯t representative of her. She was a warm person who looked after the women she took care of better than she did herself.¡±


    ¡°She was,¡± I agreed, staring down at the plaque. ¡°She cared deeply for everyone around her, so much that it got her in trouble at the end of her life. She was fiery and a complete badass. I didn¡¯t get to know her long either, but the time that I did get to know her will be forever imprinted in my memory. If we had been born at the same time, I think we could have had a beautiful life together.¡± I felt a tear slip from my eye and I reached up to wipe it. ¡°I¡¯ll miss her every day,¡± I finished. I pressed the plaque to my lips, wishing that it were Edith rather than the wood in my hands. Then, I set it lightly at the top of the grave. I had been expecting to feel something as I sat it down, but the world remained the same. I let the chill from the wind set into my bones, pretending it was her saying goodbye, and closed my eyes, willing myself to feel her drifting away to her peaceful eternity.


    __________


    We returned to my house, both exhausted after a long, emotionally draining day. For each woman, we had said some words before we set down the plaque - I knew that it probably didn¡¯t make any difference, but it made it feel more official in my eyes. They didn¡¯t need a funeral, or at least they didn¡¯t need a second one, but they were all people that I had at least met, some of whom I had interacted with more than others, and it felt cruel to me to just banish them from this plane without saying goodbye.


    While nothing had physically changed in the house, it felt quieter as we walked inside. I could tell Charlie felt the same way because he immediately let out a long, low whistle. ¡°So this is what this place is supposed to feel like, huh? Seems boring to me.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Boring is probably going to take a while to get used to.¡±


    ¡°Well, if you ever need a roommate to liven things up a bit, let me know.¡±


    I chucked, elbowing him in the side lightly. ¡°I feel like you¡¯d bring ghosts of your own with you.¡±


    ¡°All the better to haunt you with, right?¡±


    He grinned at me for a second before turning toward the kitchen. I stayed in the entry, looking at the renovation work that I had started what felt like ages ago. I was going to have to get back to that, now that I was going to have less ghost-filled free time again. I had originally started to paint the room gray, but as I looked at it, I decided that I was going to repaint. Edith had been right in her choices - the room needed to be blue.


    Charlie returned a moment later with two open beers. I swiftly took one from him and drank deeply. He kept his eyes on me, and while he still had a joking smile on his face, I could see concern in his eyes. ¡°In all seriousness,¡± he said, sneaking a drink of his beer, ¡°do you think you¡¯re going to be able to handle it here alone for a while? I can grab some stuff and stay for a few days if you want.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Thanks, but I think I¡¯ll be fine. Edith might not be here anymore, but I feel like I can still feel her around.¡± She wasn¡¯t here, but there was still the lingering feeling of being watched that had always seemed present in the house. There was still the occasional draft that came from old houses. There was still a chill that crept into my bones that reminded me so much of her. ¡°This house was Edith¡¯s first, after all - eternal afterlife or no, I don¡¯t think she would give it up that quickly.¡±


    Charlie smiled, and this time it touched his eyes. ¡°Damn straight she wouldn¡¯t. In that case,¡± he said, holding up his beer, ¡°cheers to her, cheers to this house, and cheers to you haunting it as much as she did.¡±


    I smiled, clinking my glass against this, then against the wall to cheer the house as well. ¡°Cheers to us.¡± We both drank deeply, staring into the now quiet house. We both knew that considering the house itself, it wouldn¡¯t be quiet for long.