Rhayven House (13 page)

Spinning a spider-web of sanctuary,

Not as easily torn apart as it would appear.

Singing a serenade of serenity,

These crystalline tears

Wash away my fears,

Disappear.

Fourteen

     Toby arrived in the afternoon looking like the actor Adrian Pasdar, with his smile that crinkled his eyes at the corners but still managed to light them up—except Toby had darker hair and deep blue eyes—and the beard scruff.

     “Don't be scared of the things that go bump in the night. Toby's here to protect you.”

     “Quit making fun of me,” Ian said, and suddenly wanted to dig up and watch the two seasons of the TV show
Mysterious Ways
starring Mr. Pasdar. “Just wait until she does something to you, then it won't be so funny anymore.”

     Setting his bag down by the door, Toby walked into the living room and looked around. “No matter how many times I'm here, I'm still impressed how you managed to save it.”

     “It wasn't that far gone.”

     Toby looked at Ian. “We must've been looking at it with different eyes. It had its nice points, but I wasn't all that sure you could pull it off. But you did and now we're here talking about your ghosts.”

     Holding up a single finger, Ian said, “One ghost. Singular.”

     “So far.”

     “Don't jinx it.”

     “Look who's superstitious all of a sudden...and stuff! You starting to buy into all the creepy stuff you write books about?” Toby laughed. “Sleeping with a nightlight or a flashlight by the bed yet, pal?”

     “Not yet, but you know that's why I asked you to come stay for a while.” Ian walked into the kitchen and Toby followed. Ian offered his friend a soda and Toby accepted. “The events in this house can't be synchronistic; I believe they are causally related.”

      Nodding, Toby looked at the can of soda he held in his hand. “I agree. It's too much to write off as coincidence. You know I got your back. I'll keep my eyes and ears open and do my best to help you out.”

     “You always do and I appreciate it.” He felt a little better since his friend arrived—not that Ian was scared, more apprehensive about everything. “I don't understand what she's trying to accomplish or what she's trying to tell me. It's more frustrating than scary.”

     “You know I don't buy into all that psych mumbo jumbo, but could part of it be you're out here all by yourself, away from town?”

     Ian shook his head. “I didn't always live in town limits and it's not a by-product of loneliness. There really is a ghost haunting my house. I've seen her and heard her. I described it to you.”

     “Yeah, and I don't think you're making any of it up.  You know I'm a see-or-hear-it-for-myself kind of guy.”

     “Just wait. You will. Only a matter of time.”             

     Toby made a show of sitting at the table and kicking back. “I got all the time in the world.”

     “You're not at all freaked out I think my house is haunted?” Ian asked.

     “The possibility of a ghost doesn't freak me out. What might freak me out would be walking in here and seeing you have a piece of somebody's spine in a jar.”

     “You think I'd have a piece of spine?”

     “A piece. In a jar. Yepper. You're odd like that.”

     “Thanks. I appreciate that,” Ian said, his tone as dry as the Sahara.

~ ~ ~

     Outside after dinner, a fire burned in the stone fireplace for the first time since it was built, cracking and spitting sparks every so often. Ian and Toby kicked back in the chairs, ready to enjoy the evening.

     For some odd reason, Ian began to wonder if perhaps there wasn't a long lost colony of
Idolomantis diabolica,
the devil's flower mantis, the largest specimen of the species, making its home on the property. He knew it was a crazy idea, but that's what he got for spending time researching them. Even though they were native to Africa, someone could have released a few they'd gotten to keep as pets, and then the mantises could have started their own colony in the overgrown gardens, mimicking the flowers. Or maybe
Phyllocrania paradoxa,
the one called the ghost mantis, the creepy miniature species that looked like old, dried-up, desiccated leaves lurked out there somewhere. It gave him a chill to even think about it.

     “How's the new book?” Toby asked, interrupting his thoughts about the mantis colony.

     Ian looked up at the darkling sky as he spoke. “I'll have it done before the deadline; I always do. You know I  work far enough ahead just in case something comes up. Then I can take time off to enjoy some relaxation and not have to feel too guilty about it.”

     “One of these days you're going to have a million-seller. Mark my words. I have faith in you.”             

     “From your lips to the universe,” Ian remarked. “My line of work doesn't have much of a retirement plan, so I need to start saving for the future again. Although, sales numbers go up with each book.”

     “Ah, you'll get your savings back once you sell the townhouse. Stop worrying so much.” Toby grabbed another can of soda and popped the top. “If it doesn't sell right away, you could always hire a real estate company and short-term rent it to tourists and visiting business people. Make money off of it until it sells.”

     “Never thought of that. I think it has to be furnished to do that, but it's an option.” Something stirred in the flames. At first, Ian thought it was only a piece of wood cracking and moving, but wood didn’t move around like that. He leaned in to get a better look, to try to figure out what the hell it was. The thing slithered through the coals, like a sea serpent through the ocean. “Do you see that?” he asked Toby.

     His friend leaned in to take a look. “What are you talking about? I see burning wood.”

     Whatever it was, it continued to move amongst the flames. “You seriously don’t see it?” Ian watched it stop slithering around and curl in the center of the fireplace, like it was looking at him. “Right there,” he pointed. “It’s right there.”

     “Sorry, man. Nothing. Just a fire.”

     The fire creature came blazing out of the fireplace right towards him. Ian flipped back in his chair, his drink and cigarette went flying out into the darkness beyond the circle of light provided by the fire.

     “What the hell is wrong with you?” Toby yelled as he jumped out of his own chair.

     Ian pointed from his position on the ground. “Tell me you didn't see that.” His ragged breathing made him sound like he'd just run for his life. “How in the hell could you miss it?”

     “Sorry, man. I swear, I wish I had, but I didn't see anything but a regular fire.” Toby reached down to help Ian up. “What did you see?”

     “I don't know how to describe it.”

     “Use your words.”

     Turning the chair upright, Ian sat down and then ran a hand over his face. “Not entirely sure. Some kind of monster, a creature made out of flames.”

     “How did it appear?”

     “Serpentine.” Ian took a drink of soda to soothe his dry throat. “Sliding through the flames, slithering.”

     “What else?” Toby asked.

     Still shaken, Ian said, “I don't know. It happened so fast. One minute I see it in the fire and the next it's coming out after me.” He leaned closer, as close as he dared, and took a look at the fire, seeing nothing abnormal.

     “Do you see it now?”

     “Nope.”

     “You see anything?”

     “Not a damned thing. Nothing but a normal fire,” Ian said. He sat back and relaxed as best he could. “I doubt anything else will happen for a while.”

     “I'm glad you can be so calm now. It must be because of all the chanting you do.”

     “Uh huh. Sure it is.” He shrugged. “What else can I do? I'm getting used to this shit. As long as she doesn't try to kill me I can handle being scared,” Ian told his friend. “I wanted you here to help me get to the bottom of this. Having some kind of answer would help.”             

     “You wanted a witness because you thought you might be scaring yourself by writing those books,” Toby said, “or you were afraid you were getting ready for an extended visit in the asylum.”

     Toby finally sat down again. “Whatever the thing was, it scared the bejeezus out of you. Freaked you out but good.” He covered his mouth and lowered his head. “I'm sorry, pal, and I know it's not funny, and I'm trying not to laugh here.” A laugh escaped him and he tried to cover it by slapping both hands over his mouth. “Is it that obvious,” he mumbled.

     “Go ahead and get it over with. Laugh. I see how much you want to.” Ian would've laughed himself if he hadn't been so startled.

     “I feel like a dick, laughing when you were so scared,” Toby said.

     “I got to hand it to her, a pretty effective trick if it was my ghost,” Ian said. “She's never done anything like that before.”

     “Developing new skills or bringing out the big guns because you haven't gotten her message yet,” Toby said, leaning forward to throw a piece of wood onto the fire. “I'm sorry I didn't see what it was.”

     Sometimes the spectral incidents made Ian want to do nothing but curl up in the fetal position with his eyes firmly closed and chant,
Om Gam Ganapataye Namaha,
repeatedly for about an hour, but that wouldn't help him get to the core of what was happening—if that was even an option.

     Toby's loud voice interrupted his thoughts. “What is wrong with you, pal? You off in your own world of make-believe over there?”

     “Just thinking,” Ian answered.

     “About?”

     “Everything, yet nothing in particular.”

     “Glad you could narrow it down,” Toby said with a frown. “You want another soda?”

     “Nah, I'm good. Did I thank you for coming to stay with me?”

     “Yeah, but I like knowing you're in my debt, so you can keep thanking me.” Toby grinned widely at Ian. “I accept checks.”

     “Feel lucky I got the spare bedroom redone or you'd be sleeping in squalor,” Ian told him.

     “If this was one of those gothic British shows you like so much, there'd be fog rolling in about now and some monstrous thing howling out in the woods.” Toby poked at the fire, sending sparks flying. “We'd figure out it was Sam Dobbins who owns the hardware store and we'd pull his mask off to expose him.”

     “I think you're mixing up gothic British with a certain Scooby-Doo. This whole thing could end up being unexplained,” Ian said. “And I think that would drive me nuts.”

     “There are a lot of unexplained mysteries in the world, my friend.” Toby held his hands out for the fire to warm. “Like when that colony disappeared without a trace and
Krakatoa
was later found carved into a tree.” Toby pointed a finger at him. “Spooky, but true, and totally unexplained to this day.”

     Ian tried so hard not to laugh; it took a lot of effort but he managed to hold it back. “
Krakatoa
is a volcano in the Dutch East Indies famous for erupting in 1883 and becoming one of the deadliest and most destructive volcanic events in recorded history.”

     Ian paused to let the information sink in before continuing. That history degree came in handy when he least expected it. “
Croatoan
is the word found carved into one of the posts of the fence that surrounded the town in what is now North Carolina—one of the only clues as to the fate of what is called the Lost Colony of Roanoke Island.”
He wanted to warm his hands by the fire but was too leery since he'd seen the creature earlier. He didn't want the damned thing biting his hand off.

     “That so?”

     “Yepper.”

     “You really do learn something new every day,” Toby said. “I feel myself getting smarter.”

     Changing the subject, Ian said, “I've never been much of a drinker or I'd have the house stocked better and you could serve yourself.”

     “I think I'll be able to continue living if I don't have a beer,” Toby said. “But wouldn't it be a little ironic if you stumbled across a hidden and forgotten wine cellar behind a false wall down in the basement?”

     “After all this time, any of the bottles that haven't exploded are probably nothing more than vinegar.” But he admitted to himself it would be cool to find a wine cellar.

     Toby cracked his knuckles. “I could go for a snack right about now.”

     “We ate dinner not even two hours ago.” Ian reminded his friend. “A black hole, that's what you have for a stomach.”

     “Any chance you still have some of the fudge in the refrigerator?”

     “Nope. The fudge is long gone.”

     “And you call me a hog,” Toby said. “It's too late to run into town for take-out and I doubt anybody will deliver out here in the boondocks. You hear that? It's my stomach growling.”

     “Before you waste away to nothing before my eyes, maybe you should look for leftovers in the fridge. I'm sure there's something to keep starvation at bay.” Truth be told, Ian could go for a snack himself. He got up and said he'd go see what he could find.