Too Long Away ...

I'm sorry for being quiet for so long, blogosphere.  I know you don't need my input to carry on, and I'm trying like hell not to be a traffic whore (thanks to Stranger for that term), but I'd started to garner a readership with my "Ghost Hunters" tale and I'm losing you all now (all three or four of you).

On the bright side, however, I have a job interview today with the company that I've been contracting for since November of 2006.  This is a big day for my family and me, because it's the first legitimate opportunity I've had at a full-time, salary-and-benefits position in more than five years.  Needless to say, we're gun-shy about getting too happy, but we have a bit of hope.  Our hopes have been dashed before though, so we season that with a grain of skepticism and realism.  The pay rate may stand as a minor barrier between me and the offer, but we'll see.  Wish me luck, y'all.

So anyway, stay tuned.  I have every intention of posting the continuing saga of JD, Dillon and Wendy tonight and hopefully a couple of more segments over the weekend.  If you've enjoyed the story, come back and keep reading.  And thanks for your patience.

-JDT-

Technorati Tags: life, writing, work

Ghost Hunters, Pt. 7

Just joining us? You may want to start at the beginning.

JD's light snapped back on suddenly, startling him so badly he nearly dropped it. He turned the small flashlight over and over in his hands, heart pounding, studying it as if the reason it was extinguished might suddenly be apparent on the exterior casing. A half second later, he yelped in start and jumped again when Wendy ran up behind him and seized his arm hard.

"Wendy!" he complained.

"JD, what is going on? What was that??"

"Dude!" Dillon exclaimed racing up to the others. "DUDE! That was -- holy crap, dude! Holy CRAP!"

"I know, I know," JD said calmly, holding up his hands to simmer them down, "this is very strange, but we --"

"JD, we just watched a man get hurt! Maybe killed! We have to call the police!"

"Wendy, we can't --"

"JD, man, we gotta! Quit bein' a shit-licker man!"

"Dillon, we don't have any -- did ... did you just call me a shit-licker?"

"JD, we have to call someone! We can't just do nothing!" Wendy was close to panic, her breathing shallow, her entire body shaking violently.

"Wendy, we can't! Look!"

JD shone the light on the scene, revealing empty grass and an undisturbed yard in the red glow of the light.

Wendy reached into her pocket and pulled out a smaller version of his flashlight, and her white beam lit the yard as she panned it in the area.

"Oh my God," she whispered. "Oh my God."

"Yes," JD said to her softly, "I don't think we saw anything."

"Aww, naw," Dillon said shaking his head from side to side vehemently. "Naw you don', dude. We SO saw somethin'. Two dudes wastin' another dude. We SEEN it. All of us, man. You ain't gonna wiggle outta this, bro. No way."

"That isn't what I mean," JD said slowly.

"JD, if you're going to try and tell me there's a natural explanation for this, I'm going to smack you so hard your mother will feel it."

"No, no," JD said patiently, "just listen. That's not what I mean ... well, not exactly, anyway. What I mean is, what we witnessed weren't actual events -- at least, not recent ones."

"Dude, you're bein' a geek again, ain'tcha?"

"Well ... yes and no. There is a theory, held among some paranormal researchers, that events from the past can be recorded and under certain conditions those events can be played back. Like a recording, only the recording media isn't a magnetic tape or video. The mechanism is similar, but not manufactured."

"JD, what are you talking about?"

"Yeah, dude, you're gettin' all nerdy an' crap."

JD shook his head firmly. "Listen. It's possible that this lot, this area, the house, whatever -- something in this particular area recorded the events of some other time and just played them back. It normally takes some sort of release of some kind to make that happen, like a triggering event, but --"

"JD, you're not making any sense."

He sighed impatiently. "The things we just saw weren't live events, they were recorded ones that happened another time. Some time in the past. The energy of the events transmitted through the recording media -- that theory used to be called Stonetape Theory -- but that's gone by the wayside for the most part. But some others believe that it's recorded by water, and there is some research that suggests it may be possible for water to record events in the same way that a cassette tape does or a video tape does. In some circumstances, the location is disturbed -- like this house being restored, for instance -- and the water trapped inside the very material releases the recording and plays it back."

They were looking at him dubiously.

"I'm not making this up! Some paranormal researchers believe that ghost sightings can be directly related to materials in a particular area being disturbed sufficiently that the playback mechanism is activated and the residents in the area, or passersby, or whomever, will see what they believe are ghosts."

"JD, this 'recording' interacted with us."

"Dude, my DVDs don't talk t'me and tell me t'call the cops and pretend they're cops an' stuff, man."

"No, no ... we only think that person we saw was interacting with us. He wasn't. He was only a recording being played back. He probably spoke to someone in that time frame and we just happened to --"

"We just happened to be standing in JUST the the right spot at JUST the right time for the recording to LOOK like it was interacting with us, but actually wasn't? C'mon, Jaded, even YOU can't believe that drivel."

He shrugged. "It's plausible, Wen. Nothing else explains what ..."

"DUDE, IT WAS A FRIGGIN' GHOST!! That explains it!"

JD drew a deep breath, shutting his eyes. "Dillon, I know how badly you want this to be an apparition, but --"

"But nothing, Jaded," Wendy said very sternly. "It was a ghost. We all saw it. You're going to have to admit it."

He shook his head adamantly. "No. Not yet. When I have evidence to verify the veracity of that claim, I will affirm it. Not until."

"Dude, you're a weeny."

"Perhaps, but I'm not going to ascribe this to something supernatural until I have no other choice. If what we saw was an actual replay of events in the past, then the fog, the wet ground and mud, the warm and humid air -- all contain elements of water. The water could have recorded the events. The sudden and unseasonable cold snap may have caused the water to evaporate and release those recordings recently. I'm not ready to cry 'ghost' until I'm sure I've seen one, though."

"As far as I can see you're already past the point of no return on that, JD."

"Maybe, Wen ... maybe. I'm not the most sophisticated outfit around, either. And I'm sure that someone like Benjamin Radford could find a hundred different natural explanations for these events. I'm just not able to do that right now."

"Dude, y'want evidence? What 'bout them prints, man?"

Wendy and JD looked at each other, then whispered simultaneously, "The footprints!"

They raced back toward the corner of the house, rounding toward the parlor windows at a full sprint. JD held his light steadily on the area beneath the windows, in the exposed dirt between the bare, harsh shrub skeletons that jabbed and poked at them as they approached.

"It was here ... right over here ..."

"I can't believe Dillon thought of this first."

"Dude, why you gotta hurt me? I got a brain."

"Huh," JD said as though mystified.

"Ow, man. Just ... just ow, dude. You can so be a dick, man."

"It was right here ..."

"I thought it was more this direction."

They were clambering about in the rustling dead leaves, crawling on hands and knees, looking for the muddy footprint beneath the window of the parlor.

"Dude, it was, like, right by th' corner o' th' window, man, over there."

"Here?"

"Naw, man, more thataway."

"This way?"

"Yeah, but ... naw, naw, back th' other way, dude."

"Where?" JD crawled around in the dirt and leaves, shining his light in front of him and wincing as the twigs and rocks nipped at his flesh. "Do you mean this way?"

"Naw," Dillon said, "th' other way."

"I just was the other way, which way??"

"Back thataway, dude, over there more."

Wendy looked up at Dillon and trained her light directly on his face. "Dilly ... are you just making JD crawl around in the dirt?"

"Um ... nn-ooo ... well ... yeah."

"Dillon, we don't have time for your childish games," JD said irked.

"I know," Dillon grinned. "I'm sooooo sorry, dude. Seriously."

JD shook his head.

"No, I was right here," Wendy said finally. "I can see the depressions my hands left in the dirt where I was leaning over before. I remember commenting that I didn't have any dirt on my hands. This is the spot."

JD and Wendy both trained their lights steadily in the area.

There was no sign of any mud, no footprints, no indication of any kind that anyone had been through the area at all. It was as if nothing happened.

"You gotta be kiddin' me, man," Dillon said. "Whiskey tango foxtrot, dude?? This ghost's muckin' with us BIG time, man. An' it's all YOUR fault, JD."

"MY fault? How is it MY fault??"

"He's muckin' with us 'cause you won't believe in 'im, man. He so wants you to believe, dude. If you just say you believe, he'll, like, split an' stuff."

"Don't be ridiculous ... if that's even possible."

"There's nothing here, JD," Wendy said, standing up.

"Freakin' freaky, dude," Dillon said, and a shiver twisted down his spine, racking his wiry form from head to foot. "I'm hungry, too. Can we get a pizza now?"

JD scowled at him. "This is impossible. That was a physical trace of someone passing through, not some optical representation of the events of ... oh."

"What?" Wendy said, watching his face drop.

"It was all part of the replay, Wen. Every bit of it. Even the footprint. And the man you and Dillon saw in the house. And the assault we witnessed. All of it, from the beginning ... it was all part of the recording."

"No, I don't believe that," she said strongly. "That 'replay' interacted with us, JD. You can try and justify that with a huge series of coincidences if that makes you feel better, but that's nothing but a load of crap."

"Yeah, a load o' crap, you tell 'im, Wen."

"Wendy, we don't have any other --"

"Yep, loooooooad o' crap, dude."

"-- any other explanation for wh--"

"Yessirree, one big looooooooooooooooad o' crap, that's what we got there."

"Dillon, do you mind?"

"Mind what, bro?"

"Not interrupting me!"

"Oh, was you sayin' somethin', dude? All I heard was one big loooooooooad o' --"

"Thank you -- thank you, I understand the point. Please stop it."

"I will if you will, dude."

"So anything I say is now dismissed as a 'load of crap', is that it?"

"Pretty much, yeah," Dillon nodded.

"No, JD," Wendy said, cutting Dillon off, "of course not. But you have a ton of visual evidence and auditory evidence AND witnesses to the events here, and you're being very, very stubborn about this."

"And you're fulla crap."

"This coming from the biggest airbag balloon-head I've ever met."

"Balloon-o-what?"

"Knock it off," Wendy snapped parentally. "Jeez. I'm just saying that there's enough for you to move on the assumption that we have a paranormal event here and to look at it from that perspective."

"All right, Wendy," JD said, beginning to pace. "Let's move on that assumption. Now, what's the next thing we should do?"

"We should report what we've seen to the police."

"Duh, dude. Duh."

"Report what we've seen? Let's assume you're filing said police report. What will you tell them?"

"I'll tell ya what we say. We go, Dudes, we seen this ghost, man, an' he was whacked by these other ghosts in this yard, see, an' the two ghosts that whacked 'im, they split an' then the fog went away and we had nothin' to show you but we seen it an' this sounds like a load o' crap don' it?"

JD folded his arms across his chest.

"Damn it, Jaded," Wendy said through clenched jaw, "what do you suggest, then?"

"We have to have something we can show them. Some evidence. Until then, we can't do a single thing about this."

"Maybe that's all it wants."

JD knit his brows. "What do you mean?"

She cocked her head in thought. "I think ... I think maybe we're supposed to figure this out on our own."

"Duuuuuuudes," Dillon said slowly, "do you know what this could mean?"

JD looked at Dillon expectantly. "No, what?"

Dillon looked back quizzically. "How the hell should I know? I was asking, do you know what this could mean?"

"Oh, for the love of ... Listen, we have to collect evidence. I don't know if this replay is going to be a one-time event -- in which case we can't do anything, period -- or if it will be something that plays out over a few days or weeks, perhaps even months. But if we have any further opportunities, we need to record what we see, what we hear, what we find, and see if there's any way that we can figure out what's going on."

"So we can't do nothin', right? We're back t'doin' nothin' again?"

"No, we're back to waiting and observing."

"Like I said, doin' nothin'."

"Not nothing, Dillon," JD reiterated. "IF it's possible -- IF -- we can actually do something to demonstrate we're not suffering from mass hysteria, and have something documentable to show the police."

"Hmm. Lotta 'ifs' in there, dude."

"Just like life in general, Dillon. If what we saw recurs, we can be ready to record it."

"How long do you have in the house, JD?" Wendy said. "Won't the homeowners be coming back eventually?"

"Eventually," he said, "but they shouldn't be a problem for now. We should have plenty of time to do this. If the replay doesn't recur before the homeowners return, it's not likely to recur at all anyway."

"Dude, this sounds like it's gonna be a whole lot more boring comin' our way."

JD shrugged. "We'll see. We will see."

"Dude, is it cool if we do all that boring crap AFTER pizza? Seriously, dudes, I'ma die if I don' eat soon. And if I do, I'm so gonna haunt you."

Technorati Tags: fiction

Ready to go on to Part 8?

Ghost Hunters, Pt. 6

Just joining us? You might want to start from the beginning.

It hit them fast, rolling in like a wave from the ocean that can't be outrun as it foams around the ankles, the fog washing over them and drenching them with moisture and a bath of eerie white as what little light there was diffused throughout the cloud. Draped in its billowing cape was warmer air that dripped over them like sap from the majestic maple trees, now lost in the white mask over the night.

They couldn't see each other any more, standing mere feet apart in the still, the sounds of the night seemingly smothered by the quilt of wetness from the river.

"Duuuuuuuuuuude," Dillon whispered, "this shit's freaky."

"This is weird, JD," Wendy said, reaching for his hand and finding it in the dark. He was surprised by her grasp in the misty dark, but he squeezed lightly and held the pressure there.

"Yes, this is not normal at all," JD agreed. "This fog ... it shouldn't even be here. It is -- or was at least -- far too cold for fog."

"The difference in temp can't be that great down by the river," Wendy agreed.

"So -- JD, dude, if it ain't natural ... then it's ... what? SUPERnatural, maybe?" He chuckled at his own joke.

JD was silent.

"JD?" Dillon said more soberly. "JD, you there, man? JAYDEE DON'T LEAVE ME HERE!" he shouted, groping madly through the fog until his hand clutched JD's shoulder.

"SHH! Dillon, be QUIET!" JD said harshly.

"Oh God, man ... Jeez ... I thought you guys left me. I thought you left me, man ..."

"Shut up already," JD snapped. "We're right here."

"No one's going to leave you alone, Dilly. JD, we should go," Wendy pressed herself against his arm as he held his hand in both of hers. "I can't see my hand in front of my face, and I don't think that guy was a cop."

"I don't either. Not a real one at least."

"He wasn't a freakin' cop? What the flip was he then?"

"That's what we don't want to find out, Dilly."

"We don't? How come?"

"Because if he wasn't a cop, he could be the serial killer you were afraid of before," JD said dully.

"Oh crap."

"Exactly."

"We should leave and contact the police, JD." Wendy's voice was grave and serious, hushed in the pea soup fog.

"Probably."

"How d'ya know he wasn't a real cop?"

"He didn't ask us for ID, Dilly."

"Good thing, too. I ain't got none."

"He's been gone for quite a while," JD said quizzically. "He should have been around the house by now."

"All the more reason for us to leave, JD."

"I know, Wen, but ... I think we should try and have a look at him at least. We need something to provide the police by way of description."

"What's t'describe, dude? A freaky, creepy-ass fake cop. How hard's that to find?"

"I really think we should leave now," Wendy was clearly getting concerned. "Who knows what that guy's doing?"

"We have to have more to go to the police with, Wen."

"Bull, dude ... all we gotta do is go inside an' call 'em. Let 'em do their own damn homework. That's what my tax dollars are for."

"Yeah, I agree."

"Okay, okay. We can go inside. Or ... Wendy, have you got a cell phone with you."

"OH! I never thought of that."

"Aw, Wen ... you mean JD thoughta somethin' you didn't?? Dang, I hate it when he's smarter 'n us."

She fished in her jacket for a moment and pulled out her phone, flipping it open."

"Huh," she said. "No signal."

"No signal? Here?"

"Aw, crap! Crap! A ghost is muckin' with our technology an' shit, man!"

"Dillon, please," JD said patiently. "That's ... that's just strange. And where on earth has that man gone?"

"JD, let's just go inside before something terrible happens to one of us."

"Like me," Dillon chimed readily. "If somethin' bad is gonna happen, it's gonna happen to me, dude."

"Don't be absurd."

"DUDE, I already fell in th' bushes, and Wen scared the crap outta me, and I seen the ghost in the house ... it's so gonna be me, man. It is SO gonna be me."

"Fine, let's go into the house and ..."

JD never finished his sentence. There was a muffled sound, something like a startled shout smothered beneath a blanket or hand, from the depths of the fog. The three of them froze, and Wendy grabbed JD's hand hard again, pressing against him in the murk. A half second later he felt another body against his back and two hands grip his shoulders above the collar bone ... Dillon.

"What the -- what're you doing?"

"Dude, what was that?? What was that, man?"

"JD, we should go ..."

"Wendy, we have to see what that was. That sounded like ... someone could be in trouble."

"Yeah, dude, US! I toldja, JASON'S out here killin' people! We gotta go, man! It's so gonna be ME next!"

"Dillon! Be quiet!"

They listened. There was nothing more.

"I think it came from the other side of the house," JD said quietly, nearly whispering.

"JD, this is something the police should handle."

"Dude, please -- Wen's right, man, we gotta call the cops."

"Go on," JD said finally, "go into the house and call the police. I'll see what I can find."

"NO, JD. We've got to stay together. You don't know what's going on out there."

"Dillon, take Wendy inside, please."

"What'm I supposed t'do, carry her?"

"If necessary."

"JD, don't be an ass," Wendy spat. "Don't be stupid. We have to call the police."

"JD, man, she's right, quit screwin'. You ain't like, Chuck Norris or nothin'. You could be killed an' stuff."

"I'll be fine, but we have to see what that was." He moved away and released Wendy's hand, but Dillon was still clinging to his back.

"Dillon?"

"Yeah?"

"You're holding onto me."

"Yeah."

"Let go, please."

"Dude, I so can't."

"Wh ... all right. All right, let's go in the house."

"I knew you'd get smart sooner or later, m'man."

Dillon let go of JD and turned in the dimness. And JD walked quickly toward the sound into the murk.

"Aw, that is SO not cool, man!"

"Sorry -- go inside and call the police," his voice drifted to them.

"Damn it, JD!" Wendy hissed, "I'm going with you then!" She stomped after him.

"Aw, shit, man!! Don't leave ME out here!!" Dillon scurried quickly behind Wendy, hands outstretched to his sides probing, groping. "Aw, hell, c'mon, you guys! Where ya at?? Huh? Where ya --"

He smashed face first into a tree trunk as it emerged from the heavy mist, and his sudden momentum change knocked him down heavily onto his hindquarters. He whooshed loudly as the air was knocked from his lungs, and he madly fumbled trying to stand, to see in the dark and wet fog.

"JD!!" he called weakly, gasping for air, "JD, Wen, somethin's got me!! Help, somethin's got me!!"

He tried to scream when a hand seized him by the collar and pulled him hard off the ground. He flailed wildly, kicking and trying to scream, arms windmilling blindly, but he could only squeak and gasp as he fought for air.

"Dillon!" JD snapped in his ear. "It's me! Calm down!"

"Dilly, are you all right?" Wendy emerged from the cloud and took him around the upper arm, pulling him away from JD.

He shook his head violently "no", still gasping. "Can't ... breathe ... ugggghhhnnn ..."

"You've had the wind knocked out of you, just relax. I'm going on to see what that sound was ... if I can, now."

"JD, damn it, just wait for us."

"Wendy, we don't have all night. And if this person is someone we should be wary of, there's no sense in all of us being in jeopardy. Just please go in the house and call the police."

"If I don't have a cell signal out here I'm not going to have one in there, either."

"My phone is on the desk with the monitors," JD said flatly. "It does have a signal, because I checked it when I got here. Use mine."

"You're really getting on my nerves. Do you have some reason for playing hero, because no one is impressed."

"I'm not playing hero," he spat. "I'm trying to see if someone needs help. He'll be exsanguinated before we get there if I wait for you two."

"C'mon, Dillon ... can you walk? I don't want Captain America here to get killed."

Dillon wheezed, "Yeah ... you're such a dick du..." but ran out of breath before he could finish his insult.

JD fumed, but went on. Wendy reached out and suddenly clutched his hand hard, pulling him viciously back.

He turned, brows knit in bewildered irritation.

"We stay together this time, ass," Wendy forced her words through gritted teeth.

JD softened. "All right. Do you have Dillon?"

"Yes. Move it." She was clearly irked. Her irritation made JD feel badly. Maybe her accusations were right ... he was being pushy and the smarter thing to do was to go inside and call the police.

But something about that sound compelled him. Something about that sound was disconcerting, jarring to him. He had to know.

They went as quickly as Dillon was able, moving in the mist like specters, JD with his arms panning from side to side in front of him, trying to avoid Dillon's mistake. Dillon hacked a bit from the rear, but at least he was quiet for the moment. He saw only the dark and the damp fog as they progressed, trying to gauge their location relative to the house.

"Dude," Dillon whispered, his breathing easier, "we are so lost in this stuff, man. Where are we?"

"I ... I'm not sure, exactly. We should be near the corner of the house by now. We were near the parlor before, and the house went on a bit. We should probably go left at this point."

"I can't remember how far down the cop went before he turned," Wendy said. "Then the fog rolled in."

"Man, I bet we can't even get back t'the house if we wanted to now ... and I do. We are so lost in the yard. They're gonna find us all starved an' skeletons an' shit, out here 'cause JD wouldn't go call the cops."

"Starved and skeletal?" JD retorted.

"Well ... I'M hungry. Anybody else? We should call the cops then call for a pizza."

"Let's keep moving, guys."

They went to their left, feeling their way gingerly through the fog, the stillness only broken by the sound of their steps through the wet grass. JD occasionally shook the flashlight in his pocket, trying to make it come on.

"I can't figure out why my flashlight stopped working," he thought aloud.

"Batteries, numbnuts ... you need t'change 'em sometimes."

"I know that, Dillon," he said irritated. "I changed them just before I got here today. They're brand new. It's not the batteries."

"Then it's a ghost."

"Everything is as far as you're concerned."

"Not everything."

"Most things so far."

"Like what?"

"Like Wendy."

"You think Wendy's a ghost? Dude!"

"Not me, cretin, you."

"I never said Wendy was a ghost."

"You thought she was when she startled you."

"No I didn't, I thought she was a werewolf. Nyah."

"A werewolf?"

"That's what I thought. I didn't think she was a ghost though."

"You thought her flashlight was a ghost."

"I did not."

"Yes you did."

"Dude, I know what a flashlight looks like."

"No, no ... you thought the flash she made with it on the monitors was a ghost."

"Oh, that."

"And you thought the man we saw was a ghost."

"I still do, dude."

"Still?"

"Hellz yeah. He disappeared an' shit, right? Just like a ghost. He was all weird an' shit, right? Just like a ghost. He was --"

"You're weird, but that doesn't make you a ghost."

"JD, do you see anything yet?" Wendy was irritated.

"I can't see anything at all. I never could. I can only guess where we may be in the yard."

"This was stupid, JD."

"She's so tellin' the truth, J-bird. Big time stupid. Major stupid. Stupid royale. Stupid-atouille. Stupid-ala-mode. Stupid --"

"Thank you, I get it."

"Well, it is."

"Wait! I see something!"

The other two crowded closely beside JD, watching.

In the mist, outlined by a weak flashlight beam, were three figures: two standing, one laying on the ground with one arm held up in a defensive posture, an illuminated flashlight clutched in the upheld hand. They gasped as suddenly one of the standing shadows raised an object, like a small club, and brought it down savagely on the head of the prone figure, the flashlight-wielding arm dropping limply to the ground, the light rolling away pointed at the horrific scene. There was a sickening thud as again and again the club fell, until at last the two figures fled into the mist away from the tiny area of illumination cast by the light.

JD sprinted forward, moving as fast as he could, trying to make sure there weren't any objects between him and the still shadow on the ground. The figure twitched, trying to stir, then collapsed again.

And just as quickly as it came, the fog rolled past them, beyond the edges of the house, like a cape trailing away from a fleeting figure in the night, leaving only the dark, crystalline night, the cold collapsing back in behind the vanishing mist.

JD stopped dead in his tracks, staring in wide-eyed disbelief.

There was no figure, no flashlight ... nothing. No sign that anyone had ever been there.

There was only the biting chill of the still night.

Technorati Tags: fiction

Ready to go on to Part 7?

Ghost Hunters, Pt. 5

Just joining us? You might want to start from the beginning.

They were clearly panicked.

JD remembered his flashlight and pulled it out of his pocket, and when he turned it on the other two ceased their clamoring and clutched one another more closely. He panned the red beam around the room starting from the right, where the others indicated the silhouette vanished. He continued slowly in the cold silence of the ancient house, and ended when he reached the wall adjacent to the doorway.

There was no one there.

He turned to Wendy and Dillon.

"See? There's nothing."

They broke out in unison again.

"Aww, man, there WAS somethin', JD! I saw it!"
"It WAS there, JD! It was a man, a shadow ..."
"He was all movin' and shit!"
"He crossed the room and disappeared into the shadows ..."
"He was FLOATIN', I think! I think he was ..."
"I saw it clearly, JD! I know what I saw!"
"Dude had glowin' eyes and shit! I could see it!"

JD shot Dillon a look, and he fell silent.

"Well ... maybe not that part. But I seen 'im! We both did, man! It was there, a guy was there walkin' across the room!"

"Well you were obviously mistaken," JD said calmly.

"No, I wasn't," Wendy snapped angrily. "Damn it, Jaded, we both saw it. Just because you didn't doesn't mean it didn't happen."

He looked at her, and her sincerity disturbed him.

"I know you saw something, Wendy," he said with measured deliberation, "but it couldn't have been in the house. That's all I'm saying."

"The drop in temperature, the silhouette in the room, and the fact that the homeowners called about something doesn't give you ANY inkling that maybe, just maybe, something weird's going on around here, Jaded??"

JD shook his head. "I think you saw a silhouette, okay? I believe you saw it, but --"

"Damn straight," Dillon said with a single affirming nod.

"-- BUT, I don't think it was inside the house."

"It WAS, JD!" Dillon protested. "He was right in front o' the windows! We seen it! Dude, if he was outside we'd've seen 'em through the curtains an' shit. We saw 'im clear, man!!"

"I still think we need to eliminate the possibility that it was outside first."

"You gotta be kiddin' me," Dillon said, his whole body sagging suddenly.

"You can stay inside if you'd like, Dillon," JD shrugged. "You both can. I'll go check outside to see if I can find any evidence that someone was walking around out there."

"So you don't believe us?" Wendy said, her face a mixture of anger and pain.

"No, I absolutely do believe you, Wendy," JD said softly, cupping her face in his hands. "That's why I'm going out there in the freezing cold to check this out. If I didn't, I wouldn't do that." He smiled and kissed her softly on the nose.

"But you don't believe what I say."

"I do too. I just said I do."

"No, you believe I saw something. But you don't believe me when I say it was in the house."

"That's so not cool, JD."

"Dillon, do you mind?"

"Not at all, m'man."

"BUTT OUT, Dillon."

"Oh ... sorry."

"I believe you, Wendy. I do. I just can see, on the monitors and with my own eyes, there's no one there."

"I know that, JD. I believe I saw a ghost. Do you believe me?"

Her eyes challenged him, and her hands on her hips told him she was defying him as much as she was convinced. He eyed her carefully.

"I believe you saw someone. I believe that you believe it was a ghost. I don't know if I believe that yet. We're going to have to agree to disagree on this one."

She shook her head. "Fine. I'm going out with you. I don't want you to come in here and tell me you found 'evidence' of someone outside when there isn't any."

He sighed. "Why would I lie to you?"

"Because you need to be right, JD."

"You so do that, bro."

"I do not need to be right, Wendy. I believe there is no supernatural mystery here, that's all."

"You want a mystery, JD? You want an honest-to-God mystery?? Figure out why I love you so much, because I sure as hell can't."

As she stormed toward the front door, JD's jaw dropped.

Dillon was watching his stunned face. "What? Oh, don't tell me you didn't know, genius-boy. It's as plain as a ghost in this house."

JD looked at him, still shocked. "I ... I didn't think she was ..."

"What? Serious about you? Don'tcha think a chick like her can have any guy, dude? But she only goes out with you. Why's that?"

JD was contemplating his shoes very intently.

"Oh, I get it -- you're a dumbass and don't know shit like that, right? Well, here's a clue, brainiac ... she loves you. She's been in love with you for a while. I figgered you were jus' stupid not askin' her to marry you an' crap. But that's just me. I guess you figger there's plenty of 'em where she came from or somethin'."

JD looked at Dillon harshly. "Don't be ridiculous. I've never even dreamed of someone like her."

"Then you better start showin' it, jackass," Dillon said heavily, "or she's gonna split for someone that will."

Dillon darted as quickly as he could, snatched his jacket from the back of one of the chairs and yanked his body out of the parlor as if his rump were being nipped at by lions. He disappeared after Wendy into the main hall, leaving JD with his thoughts for a moment. He finally drew a deep breath and went to grab his jacket from the other chair.

"Jaded, are you coming or not??" Wendy harangued from the hallway.

"Yes," he said, shaking his head. "Yes, I'm coming."

They were standing at the front door waiting while JD pulled on his jacket, then opened the door. The bite of the cold from outside seemed worse since they were outside last, even though the heat wasn't on inside. As they stepped onto the porch, Wendy seated her watch cap lower on her head.

"Wow, it's cold," she chattered, hugging herself and shivering violently as she adjusted to the temperature. "We're going to have snow soon."

"Yeah! Then we can go sleddin'! Boardin', skiin', all that stuff! That's awesome!!"

"Shh, Dillon, please," JD chided quietly. "It's night time. Most people sleep at night. Try to lower your voice."

"Oh, right. Sorry. And don't EVEN think 'bout scarin' me this time, Wen."

She giggled and hugged Dillon's arm tightly. "No problem. We want to make sure nothing skews JD's 'evidence'."

JD shook his head as they stood on the wide, railed porch, the hard, frozen boards ringing under their feet.

"Okay, the parlor is to the right of us. We should start that way, and circle the house."

"What're we lookin' for?"

"Things that indicate someone was out here. Or the someone."

"Do you think they're still out here?"

"Probably not."

"Man, dude, what if it's like, some psycho dude like Jason or somethin'? What if he's got, like, saws and axes and big knives and shit?"

"Dillon, try, for once, to control your imagination."

"JD, if you think there's someone here we should call the police."

"No, it's fine. I think there was someone out here though. Let's go."

"This is frickin' stupid, dude."

"Yeah, we need the cops JD."

"There is no serial killer, people. Can we go please? Or shall I do it alone?"

"Alone," Dillon said quickly.

"No one's going anywhere alone until we know it's safe," Wendy said, swatting Dillon on the shoulder.

"Then follow me, please," JD said professionally, and he strode down the stairs to the yard.

The others followed closely behind as he shone the red flashlight around them. The shadows danced and played like nightmare images as they walked slowly past the face of the house, bushes and trees stretching claws and talons down into the dark toward them. The crunching grass betrayed their every step as they moved, heads swiveling to follow the round red patch of illumination about the large, dark yard that refused to reveal its farthest depths to them. It seemed to shift and retreat, keeping a shadowy shield between it and their light.

"See anything yet?" Dillon whispered huskily.

"No, but we're not anywhere near the parlor yet."

"Too bad we don't have snow already," Wendy lamented. "At least we'd have footprints if someone was out here."

"The ground isn't frozen yet," JD said brightly, "maybe we'll have some if we look closely enough."

"Who're you, CSI:Miami? You can get footprints outta the dirt, in the dark, with a red flashlight?" Dillon scoffed, snorting and sniffing in the cold.

JD shrugged. "We'll have to see."

"Yeah, right."

The light continued to pan about, scanning slowly. JD was careful to move the light gradually, and they crept along following it, looking carefully into the dimness. They rounded the corner of the house. Above them, the huge Maple and Oak trees in the yard menaced, their canopy refusing to let the light in and soaking it up to trap it behind their labyrinth limbs.

The wind skittered leaves about the street and sidewalk, and across the grass, making them dance and tease and taunt the seekers as they moved slowly through the tinkling, crisp, frigid night.

"Dude, this is so a waste of time."

"No it's not. It's the only way to eliminate the obvious."

"Well, okay then, this is so creepy."

"It is a little spooky, huh Dilly?" He nodded in the dark, eyes darting about.

"I keep waitin' fer, like, a werewolf to howl or somethin'."

"Come on, keep your eyes open," JD said firmly. "We're nearly to the parlor windows, so look sharp."

"Aye-aye, cap'n," Wendy said her best pirate voice. "Look sharp, Mr. Dillon! Avast me hardies, we be on the look out for Blackbeard's den."

"Arr!" Dillon teased.

"Keep it down, you two. You're like a couple of second graders."

They giggled but were quieter as they pushed forward. JD lowered the light, shining it down toward the bushes and shrubs and the beds of dirt and leaves under them as he approached the parlor windows. The soft red light illuminated the ground as he began the slow, methodical search for some sign of someone having been there.

"JD, look," Wendy said, gesturing at the perimeter of the shrub bed with her arms as though drawing the boundaries with her hands. "Look at the size of this area. There is no way Dillon and I saw someone from way out here."

JD nodded slowly in agreement. "No, that's not possible. He must've been beside the house, inside the shrubs."

"HEY! Look over there!" Dillon was leaning forward, pointing at the ground near the edge of the light's beam.

JD followed with the flashlight.

A series of muddy footprints were filled with water in a sloppy mush of dirt just beside the window of the parlor. The soft material had been pressed hard, and the footprints left filled with brown, opaque liquid that reflected the red light back at them.

"I'll be damned," Dillon said softly. "He was right. The jackass was right. Someone was screwin' around out here. Man, I HATE it when he's right."

JD held the light steadily on the mud for them to see, taking a step closer.

"See? They move toward the window. Whoever was here went behind the shrubs, right alongside the windows. I'm certain that's what you saw."

"Wow, dude. I hate it when you're right."

"JD, something's not right with this," Wendy said slowly.

"What's wrong? What's not right?"

"I ... I dunno. There's something ... off here."

"Dude, I can't believe you were right. That sucks."

JD shot a scowl at Dillon. "What do you mean, Wen?"

"I ... I can't put my finger on it," she said uneasily, hunkering down beside the muddy slop, leaning forward on her hands. "There's something not right about these prints, though. I can't ... I don't know, I can't seem to nail it. I have the feeling something's wrong here, though."

"Dude, you bein' right is like kissin' your old fat aunt at Christmas. It hasta happen sometimes, but it's never good."

"What are you talking about??"

"You bein' right. Ain'tcha listenin'?"

"Not really, no."

"Something's just not right ..."

"Why is my being right a problem?"

"It's not a problem, dude, it jus' sucks is all."

"Why??"

"Well ... 'cause then me 'n Wen are ... not right."

"You mean you wanted there to be someone out here? Just so you could be right?"

"Well, no, but I didn't want you t'be right, either."

"So what did you want?"

"A ghost, numbnuts, what else?!"

"You? YOU wanted a ghost?"

"Hellz yeah, dude. That's why I came with ya inna first place. Dumbass."

"You're scared of WENDY, Dillon," JD said snidely, "how were you going to cope with an apparition?"

"Something's not right, JD, that's all I can say."

"Well ... that's not much for me to go on, Wendy. Would you like to continue looking around? Maybe something else will help you form your thoughts."

She sighed and stood up. The wind brushed over them, scattering leaves that rustled over the yard, making leafless branches and twigs rattle slightly like the bones of a skeleton rising from its grave.

"Yeah, let's keep looking. Maybe I'll find something to help me put my finger on it."

"All right," JD said, stepping forward to help her up.

She stopped then, a quizzical look on her face, examining her hands. JD noticed and shone the red beam directly on them.

"What is it?" he said quietly.

"My hands. They're clean."

"You got good hygiene an' stuff. You smell nice, too."

"No, no -- but thanks, Dilly. I mean, there's no mud on my hands."

"Okay. Is that a problem?" JD said skeptically.

"Well, look at the footprints. They're soft and gooey and mucky. It's like mud at the bottom of a puddle, it's so soft.

"But I was leaning over right next to it, and there was no mud at all. In fact, the ground was firm. It's like ... it's like the mud is only right here."

She slowly, deliberately, reached forward with her shoe, moving toward the middle of the swampy puddle of mud water just in front of her. She moved gingerly, as though the puddles and prints were vipers.

A brilliant flash from behind them made them all yelp in start. Whirling around, JD brandished the beam like a sword, trying to steady it on the target.

"Who're you? What are you doing out here?" the voice said from behind the beam.

It was a powerful flashlight, held beside the head of a man. His commanding voice carried to them and made them freeze in their tracks, huddled together like three mice in a corner. JD's light sputtered out, and he stared into the lens and swatted it with the side of his hand.

"Uh ... we're --" JD began.

"I'm officer Brown," the voice continued. "Are you the homeowners?"

"No," JD said, steadying himself, "we're ... uh ... we're ..."

"House-sitting for them," Wendy finished. "They asked us to be here."

"We got a call about a disturbance of some kind in the area," the voice intoned at them.

"Yeah, dude, that'd be me ... sorry. I was scared."

"You should go back home now. It may not be safe here."

"Uh ... okay. But I have some equipment inside that I need to gather first so --"

"Go inside now. I'm going to have a look around. If you see anyone you don't recognize call the police."

JD knit his brows, then shrugged. "Uh ... fine."

"Hey, dude, thanks for helpin' us out here --"

"Go back home now. Police orders."

The officer turned and strode off into the dimness of the yard, and his light vanished around the corner of the house ahead of them.

"Well ... I guess he told us," Wendy sniped. "What a jerk."

"Yes. There must be something strange going on besides Dillon screaming though. He didn't even ask us any questions. He didn't even ask us for ID."

"When was the last time a cop caught you snooping around with a flashlight and didn't ask for an ID?"

"Dude, I'm just glad he's gone. Cops freak me."

JD watched the yard beyond the house, and noticed for the first time that a very fast, very dense fog was rolling in from behind the house. From the river.

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Ghost Hunters, Pt. 4

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JD tilted his head to one side, listening, holding his finger to his lips.

"Shh! Shh, be quiet!" he whispered harshly.

Wendy and Dillon were joking around teasing one another, but when JD moved toward the parlor, they both caught his movement and heard his shushing sound. Gradually, they fell quiet with their faces growing sober.

"What?" Wendy whispered, "What's wrong?"

"Shh," JD repeated, stopping. "Listen."

The three of them were silent. Somewhere in the dark distance, an audible beep sounded.

"Oh, God, man!" Dillon softly groaned, his voice wavering with another bout of terror. "What's that, dude? JD, man, what's that??"

"Shh, let me hear," JD whispered again, and Dillon froze like a stature of horror, straining into the dark to hear.

The audible beep again.

"It's the thermometer," JD said glancing at them. "There's been a change in temperature in the parlor."

The other two didn't speak. They stood staring into the still darkness of the house's main hall, windows allowing in what little light there was outside through the Victorian-style lace curtains draped over them like widow's veils. The pale panes were stark against the surrounding darkness by comparison, backlighting the rooms they were in, giving the appearance of baleful eyes watching them from the blackness of the house.

JD stepped quietly toward the parlor, treading softly. Dillon pulled away from Wendy quickly and nearly knocked him down as he hurried behind him, making contact with JD's back.

"What's the matter with you?" JD hissed at him.

"Don't leave me, man!" Dillon pleaded.

"Oh please," JD muttered.

"He's just scared, JD," Wendy said. JD noticed she was alarmingly near his back also.

He closed his eyes and tried to garner his patience. "All right, fine, come on then. But be quiet."

They nodded, even though he wasn't looking at them in the dimness, and followed as he approached the parlor.

The floors didn't creak as they moved forward toward the open parlor. From the hallway, the monitors were casting a tiny white light out through the doorway, framing its outline on the floor in front of them. The high ceiling wasn't visible in the darkness as they approached the little patch of light.

"JD, man," Dillon whispered, "why we sneakin'? Didn't you say ghosts ain't scared o' people?"

"Yes," JD said, "but I want to hear anything coming from that room besides the thermometer alert."

"OOOOOhhhhhh, I get it," Dillon nodded largely, exaggerating his comprehension. "So if there IS a ghost we don' scare it away."

JD shook his head. "Yes, fine, Dillon. That's the reason. Please be quiet."

"JD, do you hear anything?" Wendy spoke. Her lighter, musical voice nearly stopped JD cold. He turned to see her pale skin glowing in the weak light and shook his head. Turning back, he smiled. Not even pitch darkness can stifle her beauty.

JD stopped, holding his hand up to signal the others to halt. Dillon didn't see it in time and bumped JD on the back again. JD signed in irritation and stood up straight.

"Do you mind?" He was whispering, but his aggravated tone was clear.

"Sorry, dude," Dillon said. "I was watchin' for ghosts."

"There aren't any."

"You said there were. That's why we're bein' sneaky. 'Member?"

JD dropped his forehead into his hand. "Dillon, I don't want to go over this again. Just ... watch what you're doing, please."

"Yeah, sure," Dillon said. "Sorry. I already said sorry. I mean it, though, I didn't meanta hitcha."

"All right, thank you."

"No problem."

"Are we going in or not?" Wendy said from the rear.

JD scowled at her from around Dillon. "Switch places with Dillon and this will go faster."

"Why can't we just go in?" she said. "And why are we whispering?"

"FINE," JD snapped, "let's go."

He moved a bit quicker, still stepping carefully but less lightly. He pressed himself against the wall next to the door jamb. Dillon saw his movements and slammed himself flat on the wall, pressing hard against it as though allowing a train to pass without making contact with it, hands splayed against the cold plaster, standing on tip-toes, holding his breath.

"What?? What, dude??"

JD looked at him, confused. "Nothing. What's wrong with you?"

"I ... wull ... nothin', but you ... I thought we ..."

Shaking his head again, JD turned back to peer around the corner of the doorway, staring into the room at the monitors. They displayed a much more illuminated version of the parlor, the furniture and expansive area rug clearly visible through the sensitive camera mounted high up on the wall in a corner beside the doorway. He couldn't see any movement, and didn't hear anything but the occasional beep from the thermometer announcing it had detected a change.

The rest of his body followed his head into the door frame and Dillon and Wendy pulled along behind him as he entered the parlor. He sat down at the table holding the monitors and picked the thermometer up. The display showed the current temperature and the change.

"It dropped something like 8 degrees in here," he said softly, brows knit over his eyes.

"Oh no," Dillon groaned, turning to Wendy, "OH NO. That's a ... that means that ... it's 'cause ... JD, what's that mean, man?"

"It means the temperature changed, Dillon," JD said looking at him, "nothing more."

"Why?" Wendy asked.

JD shrugged. "The thermometer doesn't really work that way, Wendy," he said. "It just shows the difference in temperatures."

"Man, that's bad," Dillon said shaking his head, "I jus' KNOW it. It's bad, ain't it? There's a ghost then, ain't there?"

JD shook his head. "It just means there was a change in temperature, Dillon. That's all it means. Don't read anything more into that. For all we know, the drop was because we opened the door to go outside, or because we opened it to come back in."

"I gu-eessss," Dillon intoned dubiously.

"JD, you can't believe the temp dropped almost ten degrees because you opened the door."

"Sure it can," he said calmly. "The house is poorly insulated, there's no curtains to speak of, there is no carpeting, a lot of hard surfaces ... easily. A draft comes in after we open the door and the thermometer picks it up."

"No way," Wendy was adamant, "that's impossible from this distance away from the door."

"Yeah, dude, what she said."

"It's the only possible explanation. The house is cold anyway."

"Naw, man, you gotta do better 'n that."

"JD, that's really unlikely if not impossible. The rooms are all isolated from each other."

"Dude, what she said."

JD shot his "gimme a break" look at Dillon. "Do you have a better explanation?"

"Aren't you here to investigate paranormal activity?"

"Dude, you're so here t'do that."

"Yes, but if there's a natural explanation for the events --"

"DUDE, it ain't natural!"

"Dillon, please."

"JD, seriously, man -- can'tcha jus' SAY it mighta been a ghost?"

"There could just as easily be a paranormal explanation as a natural one, JD. Why did the homeowners --"

As she was speaking, still as the grave and without warning, a silhouette of a man passed quickly behind JD in front of the tall and narrow windows.

Wendy, mid-sentence, and Dillon standing beside her, leapt into each other, screaming in start. JD's heart tore through his chest wall, making him whirl to look behind him, his posture defensive.

"What??" he barked, taking a step back. "What is it??"

The two of them exploded wildly together, in unison, still clutching one another

"There was a man behind you ..."

"Dude, it was a DUDE!"

"He ran past the windows!"

"Was it inside or outside?"

"TURN THE DAMN LIGHT ON, DUDE!!"

"Dillon, calm down --"

"JD THERE'S SOMEONE IN THE HOUSE WITH US!"

"Wendy, relax! I'm sure --"

"TURN ON THE DAMN LIGHT, DUDE!!"

"Dillon, please!"

"NAW, MAN, TURN THE LIGHT ON!! PLEEEEEEASE!"

"Are you sure it was inside the house?"

"YES!!!" they screamed in unison and he turned back to them.

They were clutching each other, wide-eyed and shaking, and he knew something happened. They were clearly frightened, and he was certain they weren't faking.

He turned back toward the monitors, and there was nothing there. The room was empty except for him.

Maybe, he considered, there IS something going on after all.

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