Spirit (23 page)

Sally was so furious her voice trembled. “How I raise my son is nobody’s business but my own. As for Paul, I’d prefer to leave him in the past where he belongs, and if you have a problem with that, frankly, Jason, I don’t care. Who are you to tell me otherwise? Maybe I had my reasons for cutting off Paul’s family. Did you ever think of that?”

“What sort of reasons?” I asked. “Give me a list. Explain it to me so I’ll understand.”

“Fuck you, Jason. And I don’t want Paul’s brother anywhere near my son. Make him leave.”

“No. They love each other. And I love Sam. You had no right to exclude him, Sal. You’re breaking a lot of hearts. You know that?”

No answer. Her silence was glacial. “Where are you?” I finally asked.

She ignored that. “Answer my question, Jason. What did Timmy mean when he said you were looking for Paul? What, you think I don’t know what you’re doing? You hate Jack, so you’re trying to alienate Timmy’s affections. Make him hate Jack too.”

“He already hates Jack! Hell, if you weren’t so blinded by Jack’s dick, or whatever it is you like about the creep, you’d realize we
all
hate him.”

Sally’s voice seethed. She was furious. “As soon as I can get there, you’re history, Jason. You’ll never see my son again.”

“What are you so afraid of, Sally? What do you know about Paul’s disappearance that I don’t? Timmy thinks he’s here in this house. What do you think of that?”

Sally snorted a nasty laugh. “He’s four years old, for Christ’s sake. If he thinks his father’s in that house, it’s only because you put the idea into his head yourself. But wait, let me get this straight. Are you saying
you believe him?
”

I didn’t laugh at all, nasty or otherwise. I let the words come in a fevered whisper. Sam and Timmy were still in the backyard. My words would be heard by Sally alone. And I knew I was risking everything by uttering them.

“I’m starting to believe him, yes. Some crazy stuff is happening in this house. Stuff that is absolutely unexplainable. I’d like to see it explained.”

Sally’s voice came through the line like a swarm of hornets—vicious and threatening. “Enjoy your next few hours with my son. When Jack and I get there, you’ll never see him again. And that goes for your boyfriend too.”

“Jack,” I murmured, sarcastic as hell.

“Yes, Jack,” she snapped. “And he’s furious.”

“This has nothing to do with him.”

“That’s what you think.”

I was so mad now, my hands were beginning to shake. Before I could think of a comeback, I felt cool fingers at the back of my neck. I turned to find Sam, concern etched across his face. I glanced through the kitchen window and saw Timmy still out by the orange tree. He was sitting with his back against the trunk, laboriously peeling an orange.

“Hang up,” Sam said softly. “You’re so mad you look like you’re about to go up in flames. Let it go, and hang up before you have a heart attack.”

He laid his hand on my cheek and gently pulled the receiver from my hand. “Good-bye, Sally,” he said into the mouthpiece and quietly hung up the phone.

Before the connection was severed, I heard her yelling curse words at Sam.

I closed my eyes. Shit. This was getting worse all the time.

Sam pulled me into his arms. He held me for a moment while my fiercely stampeding heart clattered between us.

“We have work to do,” he said. “That okay? You promised, Jason. You promised we’d see this through.”

I laid my cheek to his and breathed in his scent. He smelled of brick dust and sweat and the pungent scent of citrus. He must have been climbing in the orange tree. I couldn’t
not
say the words I had said so many times before. Somehow, they were words that made everything else seem reasonable and sane. They almost made me forget the fears I was beginning to harbor concerning my sister. Impossible fears. Horrifying. Fears I knew couldn’t possibly be true, but fears I couldn’t seem to shake no matter what I did.

“I love you, Sam.” I let my eyes wander to the window—to Timmy out there on the lawn still eating his orange. So young and innocent and pure. Thumper was lying beside him under the tree, already asleep, enjoying the shade. Enjoying Timmy’s nearness. I was almost thunderstruck by the sudden rush of love I felt for the boy. And for Sam. Hell, even for Thumper. They were my family. All of them.

Sam smiled against my cheek. “I love you too, Jason.” And after a heartbeat, he added, “You got a shovel? Let’s finish what we started.”

I grunted and pushed him to arm’s length. Smiling a sad smile, I said, “I guess we’d better see it through, then. Proving it’s all a misunderstanding is the only way we’ll ever get this family put back together again. If it isn’t too late already.”

Sam brushed a smear of brick dust from my nose with his fingertip. “I’m sorry,” he said.

I nodded. “I know you are. So am I.”

I gazed through the kitchen window one more time to check on Timmy. I was surprised to see the shadows had shifted. It was afternoon already. And getting late.

“Timmy needs to eat,” I said. “And so do we. Let’s take a break.”

“Then we finish what we started?”

“Yes, Sam, then we finish what we started.”

He went to fetch the boy while I puttered around the kitchen preparing to feed a hunger I didn’t feel. I wondered if Sally would really cut me out of Timmy’s life. I suspected she would do exactly as she said. She had shown no qualms about shutting Sam out. Or Sam’s family.

I began to realize there was a fundamental element missing in my sister’s genetic makeup.

She didn’t seem to have a heart.

And that scared me more than everything else put together.

T
IMMY
YAWNED
all the way through the meal, so as soon as he was finished eating, I laid him on the sofa in the living room with his best friend at his side. He and Thumper were snoring like buzz saws in a matter of moments.

Sam and I spent the longest time silently sipping coffee in the kitchen, unwinding, thinking our own private thoughts. It wasn’t until later, as we were cleaning up the dishes, that the words began to flow. And once they began, there was no stopping them.

“I want Timmy with us when we work,” I said. “I’m afraid to leave him up here on his own. As soon as he’s up, we’ll start. Okay?”

“Yes. I don’t want to leave him alone either. Your ghost has some power in him, disintegrating the phone like that. I know he won’t turn that power on Timmy, but still….”

“Sam, we don’t know anything of the kind. I don’t think we really understand what’s going on here. Am I crazy to think it’s really that boy’s father who’s haunting my house? Am I crazy to think maybe my sister had something to do with the fact that Paul is gone? God help me, am I starting to believe the things you believe? But, dammit, she’s just so murderously
cold
sometimes.”

The moment I realized what I’d said, I tried to backpedal like mad.
Murderously. Why had I said that?
“What I just said, Sam. I didn’t mean what it sounded like I meant.”

Sam didn’t look any happier than I did with my word choice, but he did manage to dredge up a smile at my last comment. “Terrible sentence, Jason. Funky grammar. I know you didn’t mean what it sounded like you meant, but still….” His voice trailed away.

“Still what?” I asked, leery, sorry I’d asked the question the second it was out of my mouth.

Sam didn’t look any happier about answering. “Still, I think there’s some truth in it somewhere. The things you said. The words you used. I think Sally does know what happened here. I think Paul knows it too. Maybe not Paul, but Paul’s…
spirit.
I think maybe he’s trying to make us understand as well.”

Sam was washing dishes at the sink. He stood there with a plate in his hand, staring through the window over the sink, his mind seemingly a million miles away.

I touched his arm. “What is it, Sam? What are you thinking?”

He turned his brown eyes to me, and if our conversation had concerned anything other than what it had, I would have melted beneath his gaze. As it was, I merely cringed, afraid to know what he was about to say, but needing to hear it anyway.

I didn’t have to wait very long.

“Sometimes, Jason, I find myself wondering if we should stop what we’re doing and let the boy go back to his mother and live out the rest of his life without digging into the mystery of his father and everything else that’s going on around us. I mean, Timmy’s only four years old. He’ll forget it all in time. Won’t he?”

“Probably.”

Sam nodded. “The problem is we won’t. Isn’t that right? We’ll never be able to put this behind us until we find out the truth about what happened inside this house. It’ll tear us apart, Jason. I’m not even sure our love could survive it. Are you?”

“No. No, I’m not. But I’m not entirely sure our love will survive the truth either.”

“Don’t say that,” Sam said, hurt shining bright in his eyes. “Don’t even think it.”

I didn’t answer. He didn’t give me time.

“Jason, I keep going back to what Paul—to what the
ghost—
said the other day when he was channeling Bugs Bunny.” He spat up a wry chuckle. “Christ, I can’t believe I just said that.”

I grinned. “Neither can I.”

But Sam wouldn’t be deterred, no matter how ridiculous he sounded. The moment he started talking, our smiles evaporated. “I keep thinking about what the—the rabbit—
Jesus—
said about Timmy being ours now. Remember? Remember when he said that?”

“Of course I remember. I still can’t believe that happened.”

“I know, Jason. I can’t believe it either, but right now I’m trying to get past the
event
and concentrate on the
words.
What did they
mean?
Why did he say the boy now belongs to us?”

A rustle of sound made us turn. Timmy stood in the doorway with Thumper at his side. They both looked solemn. Timmy was rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the heels of his hands.

His voice was scratchy from sleep. “It means Daddy wants Mommy to go away. It means Mommy won’t be able to take care of me anymore.”

I stepped to Timmy and squatted down in front of him, gently caressing his shoulders. “You know that’s not true. Maybe it’s a dream you just had.”

Timmy gave me his stubborn look. “It
is
true. Daddy told me.”

“Is he here now?”

“He’s always here.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, because I knew he was right. Suddenly, I knew it beyond all doubt.

Finally, I asked, “Doesn’t it make you sad? Won’t you miss Mommy if she leaves?”

“She’s not leaving. She’ll still be here. Just like Daddy’s still here. Just like you and me and Sam will still be here. Mommy and Daddy will just be in the
other
here.”

“The other here?”

Timmy nodded. “Yeah. You know. In the walls.”

I blinked at the certainty in Timmy’s words, in Timmy’s demeanor. It wasn’t a mystery to him at all, I realized. He had it all figured out. Every bit of it.

Then the kid did a little tap dance and wiggled out of my grasp. His inherent good humor blossomed like a flower, petals opening wide to catch the sun.

He gave himself a little shake, suddenly filled with energy. “I gotta pee. Then we’ll go find Daddy. Okay?”

I nodded, torn by emotion, unable to speak.

Sam picked up the slack for me. “Yes,” he said. “You go pee, and then we’ll look for Daddy.”

“Yippee!” Timmy squealed, running off toward the bathroom with Thumper arthritically trundling along behind, trying to keep up.

Still squatting at Timmy’s level, I gazed up at Sam hovering over me. “He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand what he’s saying. What it all implies.”

“Do you?” Sam asked.

I didn’t answer. I didn’t want to.

“It’ll be all right,” Sam said softly, reaching out to lay a comforting hand at the side of my neck, stroking my jawline with his thumb.

I tried to smile at the touch, at the words, but my cheeks were nailed in place.

“For who?” I quietly asked. “It’ll be all right for
who
?”

T
IMMY
SAT
perched on the pile of broken concrete in the corner where we could watch him. We had given him a coloring book and crayons to keep him occupied. He had not cracked open either one of them yet, not the book or the box of crayons. In fact, he had looked at us like we were idiots when we handed them to him.

Thumper lay in the dirt at Timmy’s feet, head on her paws, watching Sam and me with a worried expression and occasionally casting her eyes up to Timmy to see what he was doing.

Neither dog nor child looked particularly happy.

Sam and I had stripped down to shorts and tennies. It was hotter than hell in this closed-off section of the basement. Since the windows were painted shut we dragged a fan downstairs and aimed it through the hole we had knocked in the wall to give us a breath of air as we worked, but it didn’t do much to cool the place down.