《Wyvern Heights [GL]》 Chapter 1: The Ghost of You
Rose Dubois wasn¡¯t close with her uncle Louis, but his sickness and death left its mark on her. He told her she had a brother on a rainy Friday in August, his breathing corpse hooked up to machines. He passed away the next day, soul vacating his body forever. Rose thinks she is familiar with loss, so when she gets the call at her friend¡¯s house, she doesn¡¯t cry. Rather, she calls the number of her long lost brother. She hates talking on the phone, and has to psych herself up to press in the number and wait for an answer. Heath is shocked to hear from her. She¡¯s nervous he won¡¯t take her in but that fear is quickly assuaged when he says he was planning on settling down from his nomadic lifestyle soon, anyway. He tells her of a house in Wyvern Heights, New Hampshire, and catches the next flight to Maine. Rose believes she won¡¯t get depressed over it, until a few days later, when grief strikes and bares its ugly fangs at her. Her mother died in childbirth, but this did nothing to prepare her for knowing someone who has died. Yes, they had their differences (He was anti-LGBT and owned a MAGA hat), but they¡¯d say ¡°I love you¡±. Rose had no one to say that to, now, and that realization shattered her world. They stay at a hotel until the funeral, and she spends a half hour every day crying on the shower floor. Rose¡¯s therapist, Marie, has an appointment with her over Zoom. The woman tells her she hated change, and rightfully so, as this shift in routine is of the most extreme kind. Rose jokes that it was because she¡¯s an earth sign, but the wise crack zips over Marie¡¯s head. She tells her to find out what insurance her brother has, to which Heath later told her he would have to buy one. This is Rose¡¯s first indication that something wasn¡¯t right with him. Heath is¡­ different. Rose wonders if maybe he is autistic with ADHD like she is, afflicted with inattention, hyperfixations, noise sensitivity and tactile irritations. She notices he bounces his leg a lot, and that he dresses strangely when they go out. He wears a mask that covers his nose, long sleeves and long pants in the summer, leather gloves and a wide-brimmed hat with dark round sunglasses. He tells her he¡¯s just being cautious and that he heard there¡¯s another COVID wave coming, and that he has a condition that makes his skin sensitive to light. The moving truck follows them to the house, which is a large pitch black victorian with three stories, four including the basement. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. Rose is listening to music when there¡¯s a tap on her shoulder. ¡°Hey.¡± She can¡¯t hear him, but can read the shape of his lips. Rose pushes a headphone behind her left ear. ¡°Hi.¡± ¡°Do you like books?¡± asks Heath. Rose loves books. ¡°Kind of.¡± ¡°I need to help the movers, but go upstairs and check out the library. That is, if you want to. Did you eat breakfast?¡± Rose shakes her head. He gets out his wallet and hands her a green debit card. ¡°You can order something, and anything else you want for your room.¡± Rose looks at him analytically, like an animal sniffing at the hand of a suspicious stranger. She eyes herself in his shades¡¯ reflection. ¡°¡®Kay.¡± The library is huge, shelves of books so big they stretch up and touch the ceiling. Rose spends that afternoon picking books out and flipping through Amazon for a new bedspread. When her hunger is unignorable, she gets a Chipotle burrito with chips and a Coke. She saves half for later, putting it in Heath¡¯s fridge which is full of cardboard boxes. When she finds Heath again, he¡¯s in her room, which has her bookshelf fully shelved, her carpet laid down, and her posters hung up. ¡°You got a lot done,¡± she says, a ¡°thank you¡± on her lips. ¡°I can move the bed if you don¡¯t like it beneath the window.¡± Rose doubts that, as the movers are gone and her bed is bone-breakingly massive. ¡°Nah, it¡¯s fine¡­Thanks.¡± The doorbell rings and Heath cusses under his breath. ¡°Stay here,¡± he says. Rose waits until he¡¯s down the stairs to start creeping down them. She pauses her music and listens in on the conversation. ¡°We haven¡¯t seen you in awhile, Heath! How¡¯ve you been?¡± asks a female voice. ¡°Good, but I¡¯m a bit busy. I don¡¯t mean to brush you off, I¡¯m just¡­busy,¡± he repeats. ¡°Is someone living with you now? I don¡¯t mean to be nosy but we all saw the truck.¡± ¡°I¡¯m fostering someone, actually. A teenage girl.¡± The woman on the other side of the door gasps. ¡°Does the Town Council know?¡± ¡°Not yet, but I¡¯d appreciate it if they don¡¯t find out until I tell them.¡± ¡°Oh, I won¡¯t tell a soul! Does she know about¡­ you know what?¡± ¡°No. Bye, Ingrid.¡± He shuts the door and spins on his heel, heading up the stairs. Rose scrambles back to her room, pretending to be engrossed in a book. ¡°Oh, hi,¡± she says when she sees him standing in her doorway. ¡°I know you heard that.¡± ¡°Heard what?¡± she asks innocently. ¡°Look. I won¡¯t ever ask you to do much. But when I do, you need to listen. Understood?¡± ¡°If you think¨C!¡± Rose bites her tongue, takes in the bigger picture. She has questions she wants answered, and is still weary of getting on Heath¡¯s bad side. ¡°I mean, yeah¡­ okay.¡± It¡¯s not an apology, but it suffices, as Heath spins on his heels and leaves the room abruptly. Rose bends the corner of her book¡¯s page, flipping onto her back as she stares at the ceiling. She realizes with a shudder that she¡¯s a little scared of Heath, and that¡¯s why she¡¯s refraining from interrogating him. She also wonders if her life will ever slip back into any semblance of normalcy.
Chapter 2: Burning Pile
Rose enjoys burning off her leg hair with her purple Bic''s lighter. She wishes she could do that with her grief-- swallow it with a little flame. But life isn''t that easy, most unfortunately. Her abdomen hurts. It''s been hurting ever since the afternoon. She eats the other half of her tofu burrito and Oreos for dinner then proceeds to toss and turn all night. When going to the bathroom at around 1am, she realizes her underwear is stained. Rose didn''t expect this. At fourteen years old, she knew she was probably a late bloomer, but part of her had hoped she''d never get her period. She''s pissed her uterus decided to do this after Heath had gone shopping. Just her luck. It''s not like she ever wants kids, so it''s a bodily burden with absolutely zero purpose. That night, she sleeps for only four hours, and dreams vividly of pink and white flowers, fragrant and soft. When she wakes up, the pain in her stomach has spread up her back; a dull, obnoxious ache rages within her angry womb, and she knows its time to have that conversation with Heath. When she comes down the stairs, she smells bacon. She can hear it sizzling in the pan, too, but she isn''t hungry in the slightest. "Good morning. Do you like bacon and eggs?" he asks. "I don''t want them. Coffee is good, though. Do you have any Tylenol?" Heath uses a spatula to move the bacon to a white plate. The steam from the meat is fogging up his sunglasses. "Just try it. I''ve read that breakfast is important." "I''m a vegetarian. Again, do you have Advil or something? I have cramps." "No, but I can get some." He turns off the oven and heads over to the cabinet in the living room. Rose is a little let-down that he didn''t have a repulsed reaction like some guys do when hearing about periods. She thought it might''ve been funny. Heath pulls out his gloves, mask, and a black and grey scarf, wrapping it around his neck. ¡°I''ll be back. Remember the one rule." "What? No opening the door?" Heath snaps his bare fingers and makes a finger gun. "Bingo." He slides on the other glove, then opens and shuts the door, keys jingling in the lock as he secures it from the other side. When he''s gone, she wanders over to the breakfast he made her. She throws out the bacon and gets ketchup for the eggs, which is in a brand new bottle. All of the food is new, and Rose figures it''s because Heath didn''t use this house and was gone for so long that he got rid of the previous refrigerated foods so they wouldn''t go bad. That''s her optimistic theory, anyway. Her other theory is that Heath is anorexic since he''s so thin and she hasn''t seen him eat. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. She wanders over to the couch and turns on the TV. She watches an animal documentary on Netflix until she drifts off, the plate of half-eaten food still on her lap. When she comes to, it''s when the door slams shut. Rose nearly knocks the food off her knees, but catches it in time. "Hi." "Hey. I have period stuff and coffee." Heath is carrying a huge box in one arm and a bag in the other. He places a box of tampons and pads down on the counter, with a bottle of Tylenol, Motrin and Advil and a carton of Ben and Jerry''s with a bag of coffee beans. He also has a coffee machine. "You could''ve just bought a Keurig. They''re cheaper." Heath shrugs, opening the box with a knife. He puts the giant machine on the counter and plugs it in, flipping through the instruction manual. He reads under his breath, getting out a white mug and eventually filling it with coffee. Rose asks for a splash of milk and sugar, which he adds and then brings over to her with a couple of pills. He also takes her plate. Rose takes a moment to appreciate Heath being so servile. Uncle would''ve told her to figure it out herself, but Heath is different. Perhaps it is pity which will fade, or maybe he''s just a genuinely kind person. Rose figures time will only tell. The mug reads Harvard Class of 1972. "Is this mug from Dad?" There''s a pause. "What mug?" asks Heath. ADHD sign #2: Obliviousness, Rose thinks to herself. "The one from 1972." "Yeah, um... Dad left when I was young but he left some things behind. Including that mug." Rose smells bullshit. "''Kay." "I also need to talk to you about something." Heath walks back over from the dish washer where he placed her dish and takes the rocking chair in front of the couch. He rocks in it as he talks. "School is next week." "Are you serious?" asks Rose in disbelief. "My family member just died and you expect me to go to school like nothing happened?" "It''ll be hard to catch up if you take time off, and if you never go back I''ll lose custody." Rose crosses her arms. "Ugh." "Rose. Please." "Okay, fine! Whatever." "There''s a bus stop down the road. I''d drive you if I could, but I have a job at the hospital." "You''re a doctor?" she asks. She never inquired about what he did, but he seemed too young to be a doctor. "I''m a lot of things," he says with the hint of a smile. "One of the nurses has a daughter your age. I could invite her over and introduce you." Rose scowls. "I can make friends on my own, thanks." Heath puts up his hands in mock surrender, then puts them back on the arms of the chair. "Is there anything else you need? I want you to like living here." "Not really. Oh, and here." She chucks the debit card at Heath, which he catches despite lack of a warning. "I ordered a new bedspread with it." "That''s fine." He slides it into his leather wallet. "I''m going to go read. Anything else?" "Not particularly." Heath stands up and disappears into his room. Rose is anxious about starting school. She''s always hated it-- too overstimulating, too much socializing, and the fire drills always make her cry, much to her embarrassment. But she knows its inevitable, and braces herself for its beginning.
Chapter 3: Misguided Ghosts A thud alerts Rose to her brother down below her. The two are outside in the sun, and although the heat is brutal, Heath is still dressed fully covered in a heavy sweater, a mask even though no one¡¯s around, gloves and long pants. He had told her in advance that he likes to garden. She¡¯s reading out on the balcony wearing a pair of his sunglasses on what she considers her last day being a free woman. School starts the following day and she¡¯s not at all eager to experience those crammed, noisy halls. Whenever she thinks about homework again she is filled with dread. She had gone to a small private junior high in the past, which she knows won¡¯t prepare her for the cut-throat experience of high school. A fat squirrel crosses Heath¡¯ path, unaware of what¡¯s to happen next, blissfully oblivious. Rose looks back down to her book, only looking up when she hears the animal screaming. Heath has it in his clutches, and he snaps its neck with a sound so soft she can¡¯t hear it from up above. Her jaw drops with a gasp. Then, she jumps up from where she had been sitting. ¡°What the hell, man!¡± Heath looks up at her. ¡°Oh!¡± He gives her a weak wave. ¡°Sorry!¡± ¡°You just enjoy killing innocent animals for fun?¡± she hisses. ¡°Is that it?¡± ¡°Rose, I¨C¡± Rose storms off, stomping from the balcony to her bedroom. She throws her flower-covered journal open, flipping through its pages to find the one after her last entry. Her therapist had instructed her to document any day where she¡¯s experiencing extreme emotions, and her fear and anger are combining and making her insides twist. She presses the end of her pen, and the tip springs up. She puts pen to paper and begins to scribble down her thoughts furiously. I can¡¯t BELIEVE it! Heath just MURDERED a squirrel right in front of me!!! how screwed up is that?!?!?! for like no reason like some kinda sick sadist. like I haven¡¯t already been through enough jesus freaking christ! ¡°You shouldn¡¯t say Jesus¡¯ name in vain,¡± chastises an unfamiliar voice. Rose whips around to see a scrawny, hunched over old woman staring back at her, so close that she can see her pores. She has frizzy short white hair with a blanket draped across her dainty shoulders. Rose falls off her chair, hitting the white carpet in a way that she knows will bruise. ¡°Holy shit!¡± she shrieks. ¡°Wait¡­ You can see me?¡± If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.¡°Duh! What, are you some kind of ghost?¡± The woman nods, and Rose¡¯s heart pounds. ¡°I died in 1781 waiting for my grandson to return from the war¡­ He never did come back, but another fellow did, many years later.¡± She begins to pace back and forth, hobbling and shaking a crooked finger. ¡°That young man who lives here, he¡¯s¡­. very kind. To people, anyway. Maybe not to animals¡­ He turns the newspaper pages over for me in the early morning. Very nice man indeed.¡± There¡¯s a series of knocks on the door. ¡°Rose?¡± calls Heath. The woman begins to fade. ¡°Don¡¯t tell him I was here,¡± she whispers. ¡°He told me not to try to talk to you just in case. But I don¡¯t let men tell me what to do anymore.¡± She gives her a wink and disappears into thin air. Three more knocks. ¡°Rose? Can we talk?¡± Rose gets up and heads over to the door. She opens it, heart still racing. ¡°Hi.¡± ¡°Hey. Listen, the squirrel attacked me. I think it was rabid¡­ I¡¯m sorry, though¨C you didn¡¯t have to see that. So, um. Yeah.¡± He shifts from one foot to the other nervously. ¡°It¡¯s okay, Heath. Can we go out to eat? Like, now?¡± Rose is eager to leave the house, having nearly pissed herself from the random apparition. She wonders if she dies in the house, if her spirit will be trapped, too. She wonders a lot of things. <><><> ¡°So. You met Agnes.¡± They are at a restaurant called Benny¡¯s, which looks a lot like a knock-off Denny¡¯s to Rose. Rose didn¡¯t want the ghost to overhear them discussing her, hence she asked for the change of venue. ¡°You could¡¯ve warned me, you know,¡± she says, digging into her pancake after drowning it in maple syrup. It¡¯s the afternoon, but breakfast there is all day. ¡°I didn¡¯t want to freak you out,¡± he admits. ¡°Well, it sure would¡¯ve been nice to know!¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­¡± Rose sighs. She¡¯s sick of hearing him apologize. ¡°It¡¯s whatever,¡± she says, rubbing her eyebrows. ¡°It just spooked me, that''s all. Are you sure you don¡¯t want to eat anything?¡± ¡°I¡¯m good. I ate earlier.¡± Rose squints at him. ¡°Uh huh.¡± ¡°Anyways, Agnes is 100% harmless. She¡¯s respectful of people¡¯s privacy, too. Usually. The only reason she was reading your diary was because she thought you couldn¡¯t see her.¡±¡° "So, she¡¯s only nosy when she knows she can get away with it,¡± Rose corrects him. ¡°That¡¯s a good way to describe it,¡± he says thoughtfully. ¡°Can I take a mental health day tomorrow to recuperate and skip school?¡± she asks, hope painting her voice in a last ditch attempt to postpone the inevitable. ¡°No,¡± he answers with zero hesitation. ¡°Ugh.¡±