Chapter 11 Ben

Chapter 11

Ben

Did it count as a parent-teacher conference when your kids' magical mentor texted to ask you to come over "really quick" for a "talk"?

It still felt weird to walk into Shaddow House as a welcome guest when it had been a secretive fortress, shutting him out, his whole life. But his kids were inside—not just welcome, but honored , guests—and therefore, the doors were always open to him. Plover may not have been a fan, but he'd made that policy clear.

Part of Ben knew that the ladies were devoting so much time to helping the kids adjust because having untrained magic bouncing around the island wasn't just dangerous to others, but to the kids themselves. But still, it was a little weird to have this much time alone in his own house. He was able to keep up with his patients and update their files. Hell, his email inbox was clear. That hadn't happened since before Josh's kindergarten graduation.

And now…he just had time to sit around and think, which was never good. He wanted Caroline in his life—not just because he wanted her, but because life made so much more sense with her in it. The kids seemed to adore her, which was an unexpected gift he was sure he didn't deserve. He knew it wouldn't be easy, just to fold her back into his life like the last twenty years never happened, but he wanted whatever she had to offer. He hoped that offer included a place in her life, long-term.

And just when Ben was starting to feel happy and settled into that groove, his ex called, and everything got turned on its ass again.

Thank goodness Riley texted him to distract him from his emotions twisting themselves inside out. Her message only said, "please come over when convenient," and yet he raced up the stairs to Shaddow House, as if he could outrun his co-parenting problems. He found Josh and Riley sitting in her office, staring at a weird paperweight thing made from copper loops.

"Hi! Did Josh break something?" Ben asked, skidding to a stop in front of her huge desk. "How valuable was it?"

"No! Why do you always assume I broke something?" Josh exclaimed.

"Because of that time at Grandma's house," Ben said. "And that time at TechStop. And that time at the zoo."

Riley turned to Josh. "What happened at the zoo?"

"There was an incident. At the Polar Zone habitat," Josh mumbled. "All of the penguins were fine ."

Snickering, Riley turned her gaze back to the lock on the desk. Ben could tell it wasn't a good thing. He didn't have to be a witch to feel that. It was angry, cold, hateful, and furious. It wanted to hurt anything it could reach, including his son. Ben wanted to throw the copper weight through the window, far away from his child…but it would just land in the atrium and that wouldn't make much of a difference. Also, the damn thing was magic, so it would probably just come back to him like an evil boomerang.

"I texted you because Josh had himself a ghost moment and his breathing got a little…intense. And I was afraid he was going to pass out," Riley paused to gesture between her shorter-than-average frame and Josh's much taller one. "If he ends up on the floor, I cannot pull him back up. The physics are stacked against me."

"Oh! Medical stuff. Something I can handle," Ben said, kneeling in front of his son to check Josh's pulse and pupils.

"Dad! Dad, I'm fine," Josh promised, fending him off.

"If I may, young sir, you did turn the approximate color of oatmeal," Plover said.

"Plover! Bro Code violation!" Josh gasped.

"I don't know what that means," Plover replied. "Does this Bro Code translate to ‘ignoring potential medical crises to one's own detriment'?"

Josh pouted. "No."

The little self-care lecture sounded like something that had been repeated often enough that it was now rote. Ben would have to thank Plover later for that, even if he did violate some unspoken promise to protect Josh's anti-parental privacy.

"It's so much more fun watching him forcibly sensible-male-father-type-figure someone else," Riley sighed, smiling to herself.

That knocked Ben back a step. His kids hadn't had grandparents for years, not since his parents passed. And now they had a ghost grandpa? Weird.

"So, Josh, what has your heart rate spiked and your face oatmealed?" Ben asked, earning an approving nod from Plover.

"It's fine," Josh said. "I just, um, heard some really loud whispers from the basement? And I thought, since I was down there, I might as well look for the entrance to the that secret basement thing that Aunt Riley was talking about?"

Ben arched a brow. Josh was posing everything as a question, something he only did when he knew his actions were, well, questionable.

"You probably shouldn't be wandering around in another person's house, like a burglar, especially when burglars have previously died in that house," Ben noted.

"You make a good point, but there was just a bunch of junk down there," Josh agreed. "Nothing dangerous or haunted. Just old Christmas decorations and furniture and a weird number of taxidermied animals. And then I heard this voice coming from behind the wall—the one near the back of the house? I think it's under the kitchen. There were all these scorch marks on the stones, like I don't know, somebody tried something magical they weren't supposed to. And the thing behind the wall was saying…not nice things—all sort of crap about my mom and how sad I must be that she couldn't be bothered to move here with us. It said I was accepted here, I could stay here forever. All I had to do was take the locks out of the house."

"Oh, no, honey," Riley said. "That's not true."

"Oh, please," Josh scoffed. "I'm a teenager who spends time on the internet. You don't think I know when I'm being lured by a predator?"

"I don't think that makes me feel better ," Ben mused.

"Anyway, I figured anything trying that hard to trick me was worth digging up. I couldn't pull it through the wall like the one you talked about, so I grabbed a shovel and dug it out."

A sudden darkness above their heads pulled Ben's eyes toward the ceiling. That creepy oily figure was back, and it seemed…pissed? It was pacing around the room, moving erratically between Riley and Josh—as if it couldn't decide which one it wanted to hurt. It slithered along until it was hovering right over them. Ben stood with his arms out, like an idiot, as if he could shield them all from whatever the hell that was. Plover tried to grab at it, but it just darted out of the way. It stretched, viscous and angry, toward the lock on the desk. Riley seemed to realize how close it had gotten to her desk and snatched the lock from the surface. She hissed as her hand made contact with the metal and tucked it against her chest.

The ceiling ghost didn't have a face or form, just undulating negativity. It stretched toward Ben, and a mouthlike hole opened up in its surface and let loose the scream of a hundred men condemned. Ben fell back into his chair. Josh leaped up from his chair and tossed a dish of potpourri salt at it, and it shrunk back into the ceiling, into nothing.

"Freaking ceiling ghost," Riley huffed, dropping the lock back on the desk. "Dammit, those things are cold."

"Well, that thing didn't seem happy," Ben said.

"Maybe it's mad that I found a lock?" Josh wondered. "It didn't sound like the basement voice, if that makes you feel any better. Plover, can you communicate with that thing?"

"It doesn't seem to have a true voice. It doesn't feel quite right," Plover said. "I don't think it's the same sort of ghost as the rest of the residents of the house."

Josh asked, "What if it's a poltergeist?"

Riley turned to him. "What?"

Josh repeated, "Poltergeist. It's German for ‘noisy ghost' or something."

"I know what it means…because Plover told me when I first got here," Riley admitted.

"OK, so poltergeists are usually associated with a teenager in the house going through the usual hormonal changes of puberty and the trauma of losing their childhood innocence," Josh said. "The theory is that changes in the kid's brain triggers psychic stuff that was already there. You combine that with the pissed-off will of your average teenager and next thing you know—pickle jars are exploding and shampoo bottles are flying all over the place."

"Really?" Ben frowned. "Those movies from the '80s made it seem like it was all evil preachers and pool skeletons."

"Total misunderstanding of the concept," Josh said. "There's no spirit involved in the haunting, but these things can develop personalities. Some of them even communicate with the family or whatever paranormal investigators they hire."

"Where did you learn all of this?" Ben asked.

"You guys really underestimate the educational value of screen time," Josh told him. "Anyway, the haunting usually goes away when the kid gets older. But sometimes, the psychic stuff is just so strong that it sticks around, even if the kid moves away. You said these Welling assholes—"

Before Ben could even correct him, Plover intoned, "Language, young sir."

And Josh actually looked ashamed! His cheeks had gone red and everything! Ben gaped at Plover. How was a ghost better at parenting his children than Ben was?

"Sorry, Mr. Plover," Josh said. "You said the Wellings were strong magic people themselves, that they were planning all this stuff behind your family's back. That's an awful lot of will concentrated in one place. And it just sort of got stuck here for hundreds of years. What if the creepy ceiling thing is like a poltergeist, but it's like an echo of what the Wellings wanted?"

Riley considered it. "That would explain why the ceiling creep doesn't follow the usual rules, except for the salt. Salt is sort of an elemental thing. Can't fight that."

"Mina is going to be so mad that she missed all this," Josh sighed. "Can we just not tell her?"

"That's not how we do things," Riley told him. "Hiding things only creates confusion and complications and sometimes, police involvement."

"OK." Josh considered that for a moment. "I think I like that better, anyway."

"So go home and get some rest and I will stash this with the rest of the locks," Riley said, giving Josh a hug. She winked at Ben. "And plenty of fluids."

"Does hydration help with magical stuff?" Ben asked.

"Couldn't hurt," Riley replied.

Josh and Ben shuffled out of the house after another failed fist bump attempt with Plover.

"Why don't we go by the Rose, pick up Mina, get some ice cream at Regina's?" Ben suggested as they turned their feet toward town.

"Sounds good," Josh said. "But I would just like to point out that you only take us out to ice cream when you have bad news."

"That's not true," Ben said.

Josh asked, "Want me to list them off?"

"I resent being so predictable," Ben muttered.

"Hit me with it, so I can process it before we have to tell Mina. That way, I can help her process it without bystanders getting hurt," Josh said.

Ben sighed. It wasn't his son's job to help his daughter process her feelings. It was Ben's job, but that also didn't change the fact that Josh was right. It was better for both of them to be there for Mina, instead of Ben alone.

"It's not that bad," Ben insisted.

Josh lifted a sandy-blond brow.

"Your mom texted me, asking why you haven't been in contact. Have you really not texted her in three weeks?" Ben asked.

Josh sort of blinked at him. "Oh, yeah, I guess so. Weird. We've just been so busy, I haven't thought about it. And she texted you instead of texting me about it?"

"I get that, as the parent, it's her job to contact you," Ben began.

Josh pinched the bridge of his nose, looking a little too much like Ben for his comfort. "But if I don't contact her, her feelings will get hurt and suddenly, this thing will happen where she pretends she wants to see us but makes excuses at the last minute so she doesn't have to. And she makes it all about her."

"I don't want to invalidate your feelings, but that's not a great way to talk about your mother," Ben said.

"It's true, Dad," Josh insisted. "She doesn't want to see us, but she hates the idea that we don't want to see her."

He put his arm around his son. "Something to talk about with our therapist?"

"Yeah, probably time for a video session." Josh nodded. "Oh, man, did Mom say anything about Mina? Or worse, to Mina?"

"Not if she didn't contact you," Ben said. "Also, most of the island is still standing, so…"

Josh thought about that for a long moment. "Do you think she's given up on Mina?"

Ben's chest ached at the very idea of giving up on his little girl. Mina, who was finding her footing in this strange, new place with her strange, new powers. Mina, who didn't seem to feel the need to dress in all of the eye-catching colors anymore because she'd found herself. There was nothing left to rebel against. He wasn't about to let that get derailed by Isabelle's selfish agenda.

"I hope not. I would hope that a parent never gives up on their child," Ben said, not sounding entirely sure of himself. "I'm sorry. This is a lot for you to deal with, buddy."

Josh shrugged. "It sort of sucks to have a passive ability when Mina gets to, you know, fling things around the room."

"I meant, about your mom," Ben said.

Josh shook his head. "Oh, yeah, but that's just more of the same, isn't it?"

"Well, both of these problems are completely outside of my experience," Ben told him. "But I'm here, if you want to talk."

"Sure," Josh said. "I'm going to run ahead, tell Mina to get her stuff together so we can get to Regina's before she runs out of Petoskey Stone."

Josh jogged ahead at double the speed Ben's old ass could have managed. While Josh seemed completely at ease with all the ghostly developments, Ben was…uneasy. The transition into working with the ladies had just been a little too smooth. What if the house is gauging them, sizing them up as the next possible Stewards of Shaddow House?

Riley was the last of the Dentons. If she decided not to have children, who would be there to take her place? Would his children never be able to leave Starfall? Or worse, would Mina, with her more powerful magic, be expected to stay on the island while Josh went off to make his way in the world? How could either of them be asked to take on the burden that Caroline had faced all her life?

These were thoughts too heavy to introduce over bad-news ice cream.