13. Jay

13

JAY

I watched Cade leave the house and I couldn't help but stare at his butt. Thick and plump, the way I liked them. I shook my head, trying to focus in on the world around me and not the fantasy one I had going on in my head.

After all, there were ghosts afoot. Or there had been. Things were quiet right now as Sam sat in his lawn chair playing his video games.

At least he was distracted. A part of me hoped that yesterday's haunted happenings would be soon forgotten. What I had witnessed had burned itself into my memory. I can't imagine what it had done to Sam's brain. If he wanted to play video games all day to forget about ghostly Olivia and her half-rotted face, I'd let him.

Ghosts. Who would have fucking thought that was real. I mean, I knew Cade made his living off of being a medium, but I had dismissed it. I had thought it was smoke and mirrors. Perhaps Cade had been really good at reading human emotions and could pick up on people's "tells" in order to relay to them what he thought they needed to hear.

And in the end, was that so bad? The world was a shithole of a place. Bad things happened to everyone all the time. Would it be so horrible if one person made a meager living by making people feel better — even if they used a schtick to do so?

Short answer? No. Cade's heart was good. He was helping people, and even if the ghosts were a gimmick, at least he left folks with a sense of ease.

But yesterday opened my eyes. There was no schtick. The ghosts were real.

Too real.

And bloody fucking scary.

Poor Pam.

I still hadn't heard a damn thing from the police over that incident. I needed to call the local station and see if they needed my assistance with anything.

I glanced over at Sam, who was lost in his game. He hadn't looked up since Cade had left.

I promised the kid mac and cheese, but I hadn't brought anything with me to create the dish he loved so much. Cade's list had been long. It would take him a couple of hours to get it all sorted out.

So, I had some free time.

Looking at the barren house in front of me, I started to wander.

It wasn't the house I remembered, having been here a few times to visit Sharon's grandmother. I had lost touch with her side of the family. They were nice people and all, and Sharon and my divorce had been civil, agreed upon, and the best for both of us, but Sharon's family hadn't really reached out after, and frankly, neither had I.

My bad.

But I knew that when Sam went to see his mom, she made sure to see the grandparents.

This house had belonged to Sam's great grandma, and last I heard, the family had put her in a home. She had to be in her late eighties, maybe even her nineties. A life well lived, but maybe not the last bit of it. Dementia wasn't a nice way to go. After all, we live our whole life building memories, only to have them ripped away at the end.

That's too cruel.

Walking down the hallway, the sterile white walls screamed to be decorated with pictures and art. Something. Anything.

Furniture too. The house appeared massive without things in it — and the echo created a special type of emptiness. The space was begging to be filled.

But that was the point. Clean everything out so new people could move in, bring their own memories, and create new ones. The more neutral a home was, the better chance of selling it.

I entered into the primary suite, the last room down the hall. It was set away on purpose to be by itself, private and away from the hubbub of the family home. A sanctuary. It was a good size, considering the age of the house. And the contractor had been smart with the relocating and removal of walls from the original build. The current configuration allowed for a en suite. Something that would never have existed when this house was originally built.

I furrowed my brows.

I walked out into the hallway again, surveying the length of the runway, then went back into the primary bedroom.

I stood on the threshold of the doorway, poked my head into the bedroom, then down the hall.

Weird.

I repeated the action.

Yup, not right.

The hallway was too long, the bedroom was too short.

The people who had remodeled the house had been super smart about the redesign, so why the missing space? From where I stood, the primary bedroom should have been another — maybe what — six feet deeper?

"Okay, this is just weird."

I walked to the far wall in the primary bedroom and examined the wall. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Hmmm, the walk-in closet is on the other side of this — wait a minute.

I entered into the closet and ran through the floorplan in my head. As a real estate agent, I have seen hundreds, if not thousands of houses. I could turn a floor plan around, upside down, and imagine the build as if it were a blueprint drawing. Call it extra enhanced spatial awareness, but from where the walls ended in this bedroom, and the length of the hallway, I knew that something was wrong.

I stood back, crossed my arms over my chest, and squinted. Studying the far wall, I knew there had to be something beyond what I was seeing.

I glanced at the floor — there were scrape marks.

Okay, something opened up here…but how?

It didn't take too long to discover.

On the upper shelving unit in the closet, there was a shelf that had no brackets, and there were additional marks on each side of the shelf indicating that it moved.

I wiggled the plank of wood, and it gave way. So, I pushed down on it.

Sure enough, the entire back end of the closet wall swung open, and the space beyond lit up.

"Well, shit. This certainly isn't listed in the spec sheet."

The space wasn't large, maybe six feet by six feet. The far end had a skinny table shoved up against the wall in front of a wide mirror. The entire space was painted black. Strange markings had been scribed along the baseboards, the ceiling, and the floor.

It looked like something out of a horror movie.

"Who does this?" I reached out to touch one of the squiggles on the wall but couldn't quite bring myself to actually press my finger up against it.

A chill ran down my spine. Somehow, this room felt…wrong.

One wall had a floating shelving unit holding numerous books, and there were several cardboard boxes stacked into one corner that bulged from contents hidden within. I wasn't touching a damn thing…and then I thought of Sam! I didn't want him anywhere near this.

Quietly, and cautiously, I backed out of the hidden chamber, closed its sliding door, and went back out into the living room.

Thankfully, Sam hadn't budged an inch.

"You winning, buddy?"

"I'm on level forty-six!"

"Good for you."

I patted him on the head, then went and stood at the kitchen counter and pulled out my phone, pretending to be doing work things on it.

The eerie sense that something in that room wasn't right stayed with me until Cade returned.

"Holy shit, did you buy the entire store?" I asked as I slipped on my parka and shoes and helped Cade haul in bag after bag of groceries, clothes, a smart TV, a couple of air mattresses, bedding, and an air pump.

"I stopped and picked up pizza too." He smiled at me.

Oh God, I could get used to that. His entire face lights up.

"How much do I owe you?" I wasn't going to let Cade pay for a single thing. "I can e-transfer you the money right now." I pulled out my phone and punched a few buttons to make my banking app spring to life.

Regardless of the amount, there wasn't that much money in my account. I wasn't entirely sure how I was going to pull this off.

"You know, let's not worry about that quite right now. I actually didn't pay for it, Uncle Gally did. Sort of."

"Your Uncle? Is he made of money?"

"You saw the new Jeep out there?"

"Yeah, I was gonna ask."

"Uncle Gally." Cade rolled his eyes. "There's um…well, my family…"

"Has a shit ton of money?"

"Not exactly?"

"You're a secret millionaire!" I bit my lips trying hard not to laugh out loud. "Seriously though, if you come from money, I'm still paying you back. This is…too much, but unbelievably welcome. I know Sam will appreciate it."

"Okay, without getting into a lot of details…My family has a pocket of money that's been handed down from generation to generation. Usually the child, or children who display the ‘family gift' get to have first access to the account. It's meant to be the cushion so that we can use our talents to be servants to the community and do good. But someone else always holds the purse strings so the account doesn't get depleted. And it's been around long enough to have accumulated a tidy sum.

"Uncle Gally got me a new vehicle because the one I've been driving for the past five years would have never made it down the highway. My family has money. I, however, am broke as shit." Cade scrunched his mouth over to one side and glanced away.

"Cade," I wrapped one arm around his shoulders and whispered, "I don't care if you're rich, or not. Money doesn't turn my crank. Sweet guys with big hearts, and a furry chest… That'll get me going every time. So far, you're winning."

Cade gazed into my eyes and graced me with half a smile.

"There's something I want to show you, but it's gotta be on the down-low. I don't want Sam to see it. I found something in the house I think you should see. I know you want to make an offer on this place. You need to know about this before you put that offer in."

"Is it bad?" Cade's eyes went wide. "Uncle Gally is coming tomorrow to inspect the house. Fuck, if the foundation is collapsing or the roof is rotting, I'll call him now and tell him not to come. Dammit. He was so proud of me for being an adult, and I've already screwed this up."

"Woah, dude. No. The house is solid. Don't worry about that." I pulled Cade into me and said in hushed words, "I found an extra room."

He stared at me in disbelief. I held my finger up overtop of my lips and made the "shh" gesture.

He nodded his head, then glanced over at Sam.

I acknowledged that that was the reason.

"Let's eat, then unpack this nightmare and set up some of this stuff. Sam, come grab a couple slices of pizza."

"You guys done talking adult stuff now?"

"Oh boy." Cade grimaced.

"Okay, champ, out with it. How much did you hear?"

"Nothing, Dad. I was beating a level boss. And you always use that same tone when talking to Mom when you're discussing stuff I'm not supposed to know about. Ruined my birthday one year by listening. So now I don't listen." Sam grabbed his dinner and went back to his game.

"Smart kid." Cade raised an eyebrow.

"Too smart. He's going to be a handful in a few years." I made a face, thinking about the inevitable hormonal nightmare that would be showing up soon. "I'm not looking forward to the teenager years."

"He's a good kid, Jay. I don't think you're going to have any problems. You've done good."

I blushed. "Okay, let's get this stuff sorted?"

"Eat first." Cade said.

"Yes, Daddy!" I laughed.

After dinner, Cade spent an hour setting up the smart TV, then ensuring his cell was attached to the console, allowing Sam access to several streaming services. Once he had him all set up, and comfortable, Cade and I began packing away the rest of the items he'd brought over.

"You really did outdo yourself. Thank you," I said.

"Don't thank me yet. The store only had two queen-sized air mattresses."

"Oh no! A shared bed?" I winked at Cade.

"Well, I didn't think you'd mind, but to be honest, I also wasn't sure that Sam would be okay sleeping in another room."

"Good point. I guess we'll see. Come on, let's go set one air mattress up in the primary bedroom. It'll give me a chance to show you what I found."

After a few minutes, and ensuring Sam had lost himself in a show, Cade and I pulled the bedding down the hall. I gently closed the door, leaving it ajar, just in case Sam had another encounter — I wanted to be able to run out as fast as possible.

I gestured Cade into the walk-in closet, then pulled on the trick lever.

As the door swung open, Cade whistled.

"This is incredible!" He walked into the room, scanning it and taking it all in.

"It's fucking creepy."

"Ah, sort of, maybe. Not really."

"It's painted black with occult symbols everywhere. I'd call that creepy."

Cade chuckled. "Not if you know what the symbols are. My mom taught me a lot about this stuff. It's witch stuff, sure, but more good witch than bad witch." He ran his finger, tracing the lines on one of the marks. "See this one here? It's meant to ward against evil…kind of like the eyeball thing I gave to Sam. And this etching here? This one is meant to channel good vibes and positive energy.

"The Romani don't really go in for this stuff, but those of us with the family legacy get to learn about it. The good and the bad. Those who are attuned to different sources of energy often can communicate with the spirit realm. Sometimes even work in spells using spirits or their unique brand of energy. What's the expression? Better to be prepared?"

"Cade Ivanov, you are one hell of an interesting man." I gently shook my head. "So, this doesn't dissuade you from purchasing the house?"

"Hell, no. It makes me want it even more. It's a built in panic room against the supernatural! As if the iron fence and the salt line built into the basement foundation wasn't enough. This is cool." Cade eyed the books and ran a finger along the spines of a few, until he came to one in particular. "You said this house belonged to…"

"My ex's grandmother."

"And she's deceased?" Cade asked.

"Nope. She's in a psycho-geriatric facility. She had dementia."

"Oh, that's a shame. Not the way I want to go." Cade frowned, then pulled a book off the shelf and started to leaf through it.

"Agreed. I think it's one of the cruelest ways to die. All your memories, your life, your cherished moments and accomplishments slowly taken from you."

"Jay, is your ex a blonde?"

"She is."

"Is this a picture of her, pregnant with Sam?" Cade passed me the book.

I glanced at the picture. It was a clipping from the local newspaper. My shoulders slumped. "Yeah. That's her."

"She was in a car accident?"

"Yeah. It actually induced labour. She was close to term, so we weren't too concerned for Sam's well-being, but the accident took a toll on Sharon. It was bad. The other driver died."

"Yeah, that's what the article says. But I'm more concerned about what your ex's grandmother wrote under this." Cade pointed to the bottom of the page.

Scribbled in bad handwriting, black ink on black paper, it was almost impossible to see the words. I had to turn the book into the light in order for the glare of the lightbulb to shine off the ink.

You killed Death.

You must find Death

or Death becomes you.

"This happened almost eleven years ago?" Cade asked.

"Yeah."

"Aunt Lavinia said the same thing to me."

"What?"

"In the car, going home. She died before I got home, but she visited me in the car. Almost ran me off the road. Just because I see them all the time doesn't mean they don't give me jump scares on occasion."

"Are you fucking serious? You should be with your family. I can't believe you came here. I pulled you away from that?" I instantly felt like a real shit.

Cade pulled his sleeve on his shirt up to his elbow and showed me his wrist.

A purple-blue bruise wrapped around his arm. You could see where fingers would have laid against his skin.

"She grabbed me. She was panicked, which wasn't like Auntie Lavinia at all. She knew she was close to death. She told me she would let me know what was happening on the other side. She sensed something was off but neither of us could figure out why the dead are so angry. But in the car, she wasn't making any sense. She said, "You have to find Death."

"Cade, you need to go home and be with your family."

Cade put a hand on my shoulder, "No. Uncle Gally and his brothers will look after all the details. Auntie Lavinia would want me to be exactly where I am right now. Helping Sam. And I think I know what's going on."

"You do?"

"It's just a theory. A myth really. It has always sounded ridiculous to me, but now…"

"What?"

"Can you get us into the facility where your ex's grandmother lives?"

"Possibly?"

"We need to go see her. The sooner the better," Cade said. There was a touch of excitement in his voice. It was lighter. Almost like a weight had been lifted from his soul.

"I don't understand."

"If I tell you, do you promise you won't think I'm nuts?"

"After the shit I've seen in the past twenty-four hours? Not likely."

"The car accident. Someone died?"

"Yes."

"Was it Sharon's fault?"

My shoulders slumped again, "Yes, but not exactly."

"How do you mean?"

"A deer jumped out in front of her. She swerved to miss it and instead hit the oncoming car. It was an accident. She was devastated. It took her years of therapy. And frankly, I think the whole thing still haunts her to this day."

"Understandable."

"I still don't."

"Don't what?" Cade asked, looking confused.

"Understand!" I threw my hands out to my side. "What does this have to do with anything?"

"It's what Auntie Lavinia said to me, and what's written underneath this picture. I think Sharon killed Death."

"I'm sorry. What?"

"Sorry. I'm actually excited about this. Things are starting to make sense."

"I'm glad they are for you."

"Okay. How do I explain this?" Cade's gaze darted around the hidden room.

"Slowly, maybe." I suggested.

Cade laughed. "Some people believe that Death is an entity. When you pass, Death comes to escort you to the next realm."

"Sure, like Charon and the river Styx. Right? Greek mythology."

"Exactly!" Cade pointed at me. "And all myths have some seed of truth to them. Although now I'm wondering if this isn't more than just a seed."

"I still don't get it." I said, utterly confused.

"Sharon killed Death. If there's no Death, then the dead can't go on to the next realm. Some people die and for whatever reason, choose to remain here so you get ghosts. That usually never ends well. But most who die go on to the next phase — whatever that is.

"If there's no Death, then the in-between — purgatory if you will — would be inundated for the last eleven years with the souls of the dead. They're crammed in. That's why Auntie Lavinia was so panicked. She had always hated closed-in spaces. And Lavinia said I had to find Death."

"Oh, okay, so that's simple?"

"Hell no. I don't even know where to start. But at least now maybe I know what the hell is going on!"

"You sure about this?"

"Think about it. Pam had the ghost inside of her, right? What was she screaming?"

My eyes got wide. "She was saying, "It's not here."

"Exactly. The ghost was looking for Death. Albeit mistakenly inside of Pam. I think if your ex's grandmother knew that this accident had taken out Death, she might know more. Which is why I want to go see her!"

"You remember I said she has dementia, right?"

"Yeah, that's not a good start. But maybe we'll get lucky."

"Okay, I'll call in the morning and see if we can schedule a visit."