For a Ghost Free Time, Call by Sean Kelly

Author:Sean Kelly [Kelly, Sean]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Emerald Inkwell
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

III

ABOUT TWENTY-FIVE minutes outside of Eugene, deep in the rural countryside of Camp Creek, we pulled onto a narrow, gravel driveway in the middle of nowhere. There wasn’t another house around for at least a mile. I could see an empty field off in the distance—across a wide creek—with a small herd of horses galloping about. Other than that it was quiet. Dead quiet.

“Peaceful, huh?” said Dizzy.

“Yeah, it’s nice out here. A little far from…well, anything, but it’s nice.” We continued down the long driveway until we came to a small, one-story home. Other than a few colossal cobwebs and the occasional fallen tree trunk, the humble wood-paneled cabin looked surprisingly ordinary. “Is this what you wanted me to see?”

“Sort of. Hold up, don’t drive any closer.”

I brought the car to a stop in the middle of the gravel road.

Dizzy climbed out. “Come on.” She shut the door and started walking through the front yard.

“Be right there,” I shouted. Before leaving the car, I pulled out the stacks of bills from my pocket and lifted a small hatch in the floor of the passenger side, hiding my bounty away. I jogged across the yard with my bag in hand and caught up with her about halfway between my car and the house. “What are we doing here, exactly?”

“Let’s just say…I need your talents.”

Jesus Christ. “This is all about a job?” I grabbed her shoulder and turned her around. “I’m gonna need to get paid before…whatever it is we’re doing out here.”

She snickered and bit her lower lip a little. “Come on,” she said, giggling and walking away.

God, I hate women sometimes. I followed her to the front door where she stood waiting.

“Knock.”

The front porch was clean and the wood paneling matched the stained oak door. There was no movement in or around the building, no sounds to indicate anyone was home.

“Is this your house?”

“Knock.” That antagonizing, sardonic smile emerged on her face again.

I stared at her, dead in the eyes with an irritated look in mine and I knocked on the door twice—deliberate and loudly. As the second knock landed the door slowly creaked open, no one on the other side to open it. What the hell… I turned my head and stared inside, then shot a look back at Dizzy. “Is this some kind of joke? Are you messing with me?”

Without a word, Dizzy walked inside and sat down on a nearby couch facing the door.

I followed her inside and the door slammed shut behind me. Calm and collected, I reached out and tapped the slender metal handle. It wouldn’t budge. It was stiff, like someone was holding it from the other side.

“Okay, cleaner, clean.” She placed her hands on the back of her head and leaned back comfortably.

I set down my bag in the middle of the room. “Well, I need some info first. Which room experiences the most activity?”

“All of it.”

“Well, so far all we’ve seen is a creaky door. That doesn’t really scream ‘haunted.’ That could have been on an automatic hinge.

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