Chapter
Eight
Ghostbusters
November
4th,
2007
Toronto, Ontario, Canada
Lyse
An invisible man sitting in your chair
I awoke the next morning to the sound of Keifer, Lincoln and Pepper barking with another dog out in the backyard. I sighed. I woke up every Sunday to that sound. Of course, I usually heard Pageen and our neighbours talking in amongst all the barking, but there was no Pageen or neighbours this morning. And why was Pepper outside? She was never up before me…
Ignoring the headache and hangover queasiness, I sat up. I rubbed my eyes, yawning. When I opened my eyes, I was looking through my open bedroom door into the hall. Funny… I never slept with my door open. Well, not wide open. Just enough so the dogs were satisfied.
None of our dogs liked closed doors, and whenever they came across one, they'd whine and whine until someone opened the door. So, to avoid constant annoyance, I left my door open just enough to let them in and out. The thing was, I couldn't remember opening it… Maybe I'd forgotten to close it last night…
Huh… last night. That had certainly been interesting to say the least. Though not sure why, I cautiously looked towards the centre of the room… Nope, no ruggedly handsome man standing there this morning.
I shook my head. I was known for my weird dreams, but last night's took the cake. I'd never dreamt of witches in Oz, or men claiming to be ghosts before. There was a first time for everything I guess.
I flopped back onto my bed, contemplating whether or not to get up. My inward debate quickly became thoughts of the last three days. Dad's diagnosis, Keith missing his promotion, the canceled band practice, the arguments with Pageen and Tony, Pageen's lost job to the prissy bitch on the street behind us… This had really turned into a shitty weekend, and Pageen was probably still upset with what I'd said to her the other night…
I heard the sound of Tony's Corolla running outside. Pageen would be leaving in a few minutes and I figured if I was going to apologize for yelling at her the other night, I'd better do it now.
With a groan, I pulled myself out of bed and headed downstairs. I found Pageen in the kitchen, a half-eaten apple in her right hand, a pen in her left. She was at the breakfast table, her back to me, writing something.
"'Morning, Pay," I said, climbing into the chair across from her.
She looked up slightly startled. "Oh. Good morning." She smiled warmly and set the pen down. Maybe she was okay after all? "I was going to leave you a note, but now I'll just tell you."
"Tell me what?" I set my chin in my hand.
"I'm going up to Tony's parents' for the day," she replied.
"They're in Gravenhurst, right?" I asked.
Pageen nodded. "Yeah."
We were quiet for a moment until I looked up. "What's for breakfast?"
"Oh sweetie, I would," she replied apologetically, "but Tony's waiting for me and we told Jacob and Lynda we'd be there by about noon." She got up from the table and started rummaging around the kitchen.
I looked at the clock on the stove. 9:45am. It was a two and a half hour drive from Toronto to Gravenhurst. I sighed, dejected. "Alright."
She hugged me from behind. "I'm sorry Lyse."
I leaned back against her, squeezing her arm. "I know. It's okay."
She went back to wandering around the kitchen, getting everything she needed.
I watched her for several moments before taking in a breath. I knew what I had to do. "Pageen…?"
"Yeah?" she asked absentmindedly, sidetracked.
"I'm sorry about the other night," I said softly. I felt guilty for yelling at her. She didn't do anything wrong; she was concerned.
Pageen turned to face me, furrowing her eyebrows, feigning confusion. "What about the other night?"
"Pageen…"
She sighed, stopping what she was doing. "Consider it forgotten."
"But I–"
"Lyse," she cut in. "It's okay." She paused, and I could feel an apology coming. "And I was out of line, accusing you. You're upset; you have every right to be." She smiled then. "Seriously sweetie, consider it forgotten; it never happened."
"You sure?" I asked.
Pageen nodded. "Yes. Now, I've got to run upstairs, then I'll be going."
"Okay."
I watched her leave, then got up and moved into the dinning room to let the dogs in. And screamed.
Sitting at the dinning table was a man – the same man as in my dream. I blinked. I couldn't believe it. He was sitting there, plain as anything, looking at me.
"Good morning," he spoke. His lips curved into a smirk – a smirk I would've fallen in love with had I not been so freaked. "Are you ready to listen now?"
I screamed again. I pinched myself. It hurt.
"Lyse?" Pageen's voice came from the kitchen. "Are you okay?
I pointed to the man. He shook his head vehemently, waved his hands frantically. "Don't. She can't see me."
"Look," I said.
Pageen's eyes narrowed, real confusion shaping her face. "What? There's nothing there."
The man buried his face in his hands. "I told you."
My eyes widened even more than they already were. Pageen's eyes weren't focused on him at all. They were searching, trying to find what I was pointing at. Shit… he was right; she really couldn't see him…
"Oh my God, there was a rat!"
"WHAT?! WHERE?!" Pageen shrieked. That did it. Pageen hated rats. Apparently, so did he. Upon the word, he leapt from the chair and looked around the room.
I slapped a hand over my mouth to stop the threatening laughter. I'd seen women freak out over a rat, but a man? Not a man… a ghost. I thought ghosts weren't afraid of anything…
He saw me laugh and gave me a glare mixed with a sigh of relief. "Funny."
I turned back to Pageen. "It was huge!"
"Where did it go?" she squealed.
"It probably ran underneath something," I replied. "I'll get it when you leave."
"Oh, I hope so." Pageen shuddered.
Okay, to get Pageen out of here… "I will, don't worry. Now, get going, before Tony leaves without you."
"Okay." She headed back for the foyer. "I'm probably going to spend the night at Tony's."
"Okay. Say hi to Tony, Jacob and Lynda for me."
"I will. See you tomorrow." She left and the house was quiet.
I stood there, frozen, staring at the man for a long moment, trying to sort everything out. I could see and hear him, yet Pageen couldn't? Was that even possible?
He took a breath. "Are you ready to listen to me now?" he asked, his voice soft and shaped by fatigue.
I opened my mouth, but my throat robbed me of my voice. I swayed on my feet feeling nauseous and dizzy.
Suddenly my bed seemed so appealing.
