A Haunting of Ghosts

Chapter 1-4

“What are we going to do?” Gene asked as he paced the living room. “I mean, what can we do? Nothing, damn it!”

He had been going on in that vein since he and Van had arrived at home. They’d gotten inside the same way they’d left the shop fifteen minutes earlier—by walking through the door. The first thing Gene had done was go to the TV. He wanted to see if their murders had made the news. That wasn’t happening because neither he nor Van could turn it on.

Van had tried his laptop with the same result…nothing. He’d reached for a pencil and his hand went right through it, eliciting a string of swear words in response.

“I can’t cook, we can’t write, hell, we can’t even brush our teeth, I bet,” Gene muttered angrily.

“You don’t need to,” someone said from the entryway.

Van and Gene spun around in unison. A man in worn jeans and a muscle shirt stood there.

“Who the hell are you and how did you get in here?” Van snarled, his hands tightening into fists.

“My name’s Brody Ellis, and like you, I’m a ghost.” He took a few steps into the room. “We need to talk.”

“Uh-huh. About?” Van asked, relaxing minimally. “How do we know you are a ghost?”

Brody smiled before he went into the entryway again—and returned to the living room by walking through the wall. “That do it for you?”

Van shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. What do we need to talk about?”

“How you died, and why, but first things first. There’s a man, a live one, out on your porch. Do you mind if I let him in?”

“How? We can’t move things,” Gene said.

“You can’t,” Brody replied. “I’ve been around for, hell, six, seven years or so. There’s nothing I can’t move if I put my mind to it.”

“So there’s hope,” Gene whispered to Van, getting a nod in return. “Okay, let him in, I guess.”

Brody opened the front door and two men came in. Or a man and a ghost, Gene realized, since he could vaguely see the door behind the younger man.

“I’m Sage,” the living man said. “I saw you at the crime scene.” He smiled compassionately. “I don’t blame you for getting the hell out of there. I would if it was my body on the pavement. Before you ask, I’m a medium. I can talk to ghosts like Brody and Jon, and the two of you. Which one of you is which by the way?”

“I’m Van,” Van replied. “He’s Gene.” He c****d his head, frowning. “Why are they still here? I thought ghosts moved on after a while.”

“Good to meet you,” Sage said. “Although you’d probably prefer it if it had happened while you were alive,” he added with a wry smile. “To answer your question, in order to move on you have to know why you died, if you were murdered, who did it, and then prove it. In other cases, like a ghost who has committed suicide, they have to accept that they did. Some go into denial after the fact. Then there are those who decide they want to remain because there’s someone in this world who’s important to them. It can be a living person, one of our friends did that for a while, or it can be another ghost who can’t move on.”

“That’s why Brody’s here,” Jon said. “I don’t know who killed me, and we love each other, so he chose to stick around until things are resolved one way or the other.” He smiled at Brody, slipping his arm around his waist. “If I can’t ever leave, I have someone who is willing to make the sacrifice to keep me company.”

“Some sacrifice,” Brody said, giving Jon a kiss. “We do love each other and are partners in all the ways that count.” He looked at Gene and Van. “The same way the two of you are, I suspect.”

“We are,” Gene replied. “In life as well as in what we do for a living.”

“You said you’re here because you want to talk to us about what happened,” Van said.

Sage nodded. “We do, but there’s someone else who should be here, too. His name is Mike Harris and he’s the lead detective on your murder case, and my life partner.” He winked. “If you don’t mind waiting until he’s available to come out here, it would save a lot of repetition.”

“We have all the time in the world,” Gene replied, grimacing. “So make yourselves comfortable. If you could turn on the TV I’d appreciate it. I’d like to watch the news.”

“Prurient interest?” Brody asked as he turned it on.

“Wrong word,” Jon said with a laugh, “unless the news has started showing porn as part of their line-up.”

“Okay, smartass, what’s the word I’m looking for?”

“Wanting to know what happened as far as the cops are concerned?”

“That’s a lot more than one word.”

“Inquisitiveness, interest, curiosity,” Gene said. “Although none of those are strong enough. I have to know what they’ve found out. I mean, no one wants us dead, damn it. Why would they?”

“You think it was a case of mistaken identity?” Brody asked.

“It has to be, doesn’t it?” Gene swore under his breath when he realized they were too late. The news program was showing the weather and he knew the sports report would be up next. “How soon before we can talk to the detective?”

“Let me check,” Sage replied, taking out his phone. After a brief conversation, he told them, “Mike can be here in twenty or so. Do you mind if I make coffee while we wait?”

“Hell, no,” Van said. “I could use some…” He sighed. “Not possible, is it?”

“I’m afraid not,” Jon told him. “You get used to it after a while. Not eating or drinking, I mean.”

“Or sleeping, or reading, or using the computer, or…” Van said sourly.

“Give it time,” Brody replied. “You can already sleep. The rest? Once you learn to manipulate things, you’ll be able to surf the net to your heart’s content.”

“And play games,” Jon added, winking at Brody.

“What about…?” Gene glanced at Van then took his hand, holding it carefully. When Van squeezed it in return and then put an arm around him, Gene asked, “How come we can already touch and hold each other, but not real things like a pencil?”

“Because you’re both ghosts. Here…” Brody held out his hand. When Gene tentatively took it, Brody said, “See. If you and Sage tried to shake hands, however, his would go right through yours because he’s human. Eventually you’ll be able to pick up a book and read it, or whatever.”

“What about…” Gene worried his lip, his gaze locked on Van. “We have a pretty damned good s*x life.”

Brody chuckled. “If you’re asking will you still be able to f**k, no, it won’t happen. A c**k needs blood to get hard, something all of us are lacking. Well, other than Sage.” He grinned at him.

“Thank God for that,” Sage muttered.