Call out to the Dead

My home was built not as an architectural throw back to the mid-1800s but in the mid-1800s. Many generations of the O’Shea family -my family- had lived in it since those days. Every generation bringing it up to date; the electrical, the pluming, the floors. My parents put a new roof on the place when it fell to them.

We were old money. Too bad that fact alone couldn’t keep the tragedy at bay.

The house became solely mine 4 days before my sixteenth birthday. My parents car accident insured that to me. Their rear left tire blew sending the Range Rover tumbling three and a half times before coming to a rest off the shoulder of the highway. My father died while it rolled, announced DOA on the scene. My mother died in the hospital with a blood clot in her brain. I was shipped into town to live with my mother’s sister until I turned 18.

I moved back to my house knowing I had the money to take care of everything for as long as it takes me to figure out what I want to do with my life.

Getting beyond the past of my Victorian era house I lived alone in, many of the rooms vacant, gathering dust. I find myself spending most of my time on my own. Some people withdraw from the people around them in the event of a close personal death. I happen to be one of those.

Most of my college classes were online courses. I worked on my old house and made great grades in most of my free time.

Lately though I’ve found myself doing my course work on my laptop in the local library. Getting out of my house whenever I could. It had stopped comforting as it once was. I was become unnerved by the noises, the shifts of air temperatures, and that’s not even to mention the dreams. My mind kept running back to Halloween.

I was even breaking my one party a year rule Joanne, Kelsey, and Val were psyched. They were the ones that always had to talk me into going to the parties. They’d been fighting me the last 4 years. After all the death they were trying to bring me back to life.

I was hurrying through another of my online assignments before getting ready for my second party in four weeks. This one was at an old warehouse in town. Small town kids got creative. My drive was to be a long one.

I lived on the outskirts of town. I didn’t have a neighbor for miles upon miles. I owned the 25 acres my house sat in the middle of. The party was at the extreme opposite end of the world from me.

So I adorned myself quickly in a simple fall outfit; a peacoat, jeans, and boots with a mild heel.

The one truly frivolous thing I bought was a sleek black car. Cars lower to the ground were all I felt safe in these days. Not to mention my baby hauls ass out on the country roads on my way into town.

I arrived to a scene much like all the others. People surrounding fires in metal trash cans -classy right- that you jut knew were lit irresponsibly.

I parked my car across the street with all the others and I could already see our ginger. Red hair is so much more useful than you realize.

Kelsey was to her right and Jo was standing behind them looking at something over their shoulders.

I walked directly toward them knowing my comfort zone and trying not to think of anything outside of it.

Kelsey was the first one to spot me coming toward them. She came flying at me shrieking, “Eliza! Eliza! Eliza!” until the distance between us was gone and her body was slamming into mine and her arms got a vice-like grip around me.

“You are so spaz-tastic!” Valarie laughed out in the background.

“I love you too Kelsey but could you please release me?” I asked strained with all the air knocked out of my lungs.

Jo looked at me with a smirk. “Out of your house again? What’s the occasion?”

I kept my most recent discomfort in my own home to myself. “Har. Har. Douche canoe.”

Kelsey let me go and offered to go grab me a beer. I accepted easily assuming I’d stay long enough for one beer not to matter at all.

“So what were you guys looking at?” I asked gesturing to Val’s phone that they’d all been glued to when I walked over.

“That kid Jason.” Val answered turning the smart phone to me displaying a news article. “He’s dead.”

I took the phone to read this all myself. “Who was this kid?”

“He graduated a year before us, he was on the football team. I think he was a fullback or something.”Joanne explained solemnly. “He was the one everybody paid to buy the beer for the Halloween party.”

Kelsey returned pushing my beer into my phone-free hand. “Talking about Jason Williams?” Even she spoke somberly.

“Would I have seen him?” I was desperately trying to put a face to the name.

“Not with the way you booked it out of there.” Val spoke as she gently took her phone back, slipping it back to it’s place into her pocket.

“He was dressed as the grim reaper, I think.” Kelsey added.

If Val hadn’t taken her phone back I would have been liable to drop it then. Jo saw that look on my face and grabbed my beer hand so it wouldn’t slip from it's firm hold sending the plastic cup to the mercy of gravity. “Eli, what’s wrong? Is he the reason you ran off that night?”

This was one of those things beyond explanation. I just shook my head no and waited for her to release my hand. When she did I threw back my beer.

They let it go assuming this was a thing related to my trauma.

People drifted over to us in waves. Carrying a typical conversation, jokes, weather, courtesies, all the almost mathematically assembled sort of conversations. Drifting to us then on their way like the tide. For the most part it was just us. Even Jo’s boyfriend -Kevin- only hung around for a minute.

The thing about living in a small town you know most people. Even if not their name you know their face belongs in the scenery.

A crowd of guys in black came into view walking down the sidewalk approaching the party. Not a single face of the crowd belonged.

“Who are they?” Valarie asked curiously.

I was by no means the only one who noticed.

“They’re probably from the next town over. Those kids are always crashing our parties.” Jo spoke easily.

“Who cares? We need more boys.” Kelsey spoke shamelessly.

They joined our crowds mixing, mingling, and talking. Still something in me was unsettled at the sight of all these pale men. Something was telling me to run.

Three of them stuck close to each other. Keeping to themselves continuing whatever conversation they were having.

The tallest, a rail thin man, had straight black hair laying like curtains at the sides of his face that hit his mid-back. His jeans were torn in the most extreme way I’d ever seen.

The man with the shortest hair -although it wasn’t very short really- was a pale hispanic man with many visible piercings.

The shorter man -who still probably stood 6 foot- had black hair touching his shoulders. His lips were fuller than mine. Thin as the others but slightly wider built than the first. I could see the tattoos on his hands even with all the distance between us. I knew he was excessively tattooed. His friends probably were too. All of them were too pretty to have been boys off the football team.

Lust wasn’t what drew my attention though. Instead it was an eerie feeling running through my bones.

The full lipped man caught my gaze and smiled a cynical sort of smile at me leading his friends to look at me too.

“I gotta go.” I said hurriedly before heading to my car just as quickly.

“Eli!” Jo called jogging after me. She didn’t want my running away from parties to become a habit.

She caught me at the hood of my car. Turned me to face her. “Is your anxiety getting worse?” Her voice kept feather light. “Are you starting to have panic attacks?”

“It’s a long story.” I resigned myself to those words.

“It’s a long trip to your house. I’ll drive. You explain.” Jo never took my shit.

I tossed her the keys to my car and walked to the passenger side of my car. I cast one last look back to the party, his eyes were still on me with his devious smile still in tact. I shivered and climbed in a quickly as I could manage.

Jo loved driving fast, so driving my car was one of her favorite things ever.

I told her about the All Hallows Eve debacle. Told her about the sounds in my house, about the feeling that crept though my spine at the sight of the pale crowd.

“Are you serious?” She finally asked.

“What’s worse; that kid that’s dead -Jason- he was the one running the ouija board.” I spoke aloud what so alarmed me for the first time.

Jo had many more spiritual beliefs than I. “Fuck. This is honest to God creepy dude. I can stop at my house I have smudge sticks. Sage wards off evil.”

“Sounds like as good an idea as any.” I said with a sigh. “Better than any I have. I just want this creepy feeling to stop surrounding me.”

So that was exactly what she did.

My house reeked of sage, 2 hours later when all was said and done. She and I were in my living room sprawled out on the large comfortable furniture. I curled up on the armchair and she was lounging across the matching black couch.

“What made you join those idiots in calling out to the dead?” She finally asked.

“One of the girls said, ‘You afraid of what the dead have to say to you?’ Like back in high school when that bitch Lydia Ryans started that rumor about my parents rolling their car on purpose because they hated me so much. It made me mad. If someone I knew was going to come out to say “Hello” I knew they were going to say nice things.”

“Those things -the real ones- connect you to any spirit. It doesn’t even have to be human! It’s like chat roulette! Who you want to talk to isn’t who ya get!” She spoke animately.

“Is there anything you don’t know about all this spiritual shit?” I asked knowing she wouldn’t take the “shit” comment the wrong way.

“I just like studying the different ideologies and theologies. There are more things in heaven and earth than what science explains.” She spoke off-handedly standing up stretching. “I’m going to bed."

My exhaustion hit me like a ton of bricks. “Me too.”

Jo stayed here often enough to know where to sleep and not to need to ask before crashing.

So we were both off to our rooms -I turned off the heater in the main room first- for bed.

I closed my door behind me turning on the space heater -it’s much cheaper in a large mostly empty house- closed the door to the en-suite bathroom and double checked that the French doors were secure.

After those things were done I shrugged out of my clothes and slipped in to my simple pajamas. I switched off the lights and climbed into my bed enswathing myself in the black and white damask pattern.

I was running. Something was pursuing me. I ran across the little foot bridge over the small stream behind my house. I was being chased through my woods.

I could feel whatever was behind me. I just couldn’t get far enough away.

The aesthetic of my appearance really struck me, it was like I was out of one of those low budget horror flick. Long spaghetti strap dress clung tightly to my body. If it wasn’t for the high slits on either side I wouldn’t be able to run. As it moved through the air in the grey fog that was overtaking the wood you could see it’s red lining.

I was running down the old horse trail so I wasn’t tripping over the undergrowth. The path turned and as I went to follow it I was met with a male silhouette in black. I came skidding to a halt in my heeled boots.

“Dear Eliza,” The voice hauntingly echoed. “Protect your neck.”

He spun.

I flew up out of my bed. I was getting sick of the nightmares. I ran my hand through my long blonde hair and looked to the French doors to see the lightening sky. It would be full light soon.

Something struck me that scared me more than the dream. I got out of my bed and slowly walked to the doors, there was a hand print on the glass. I raised my hand to compare and instantly realized it was too large to be mine.

It was a man’s hand.