The Haunting - Chapter 17


Summer 1893


It was a hot summer, forcing many residents of New York City to stay indoors. Richard Castle had no complaints about staying inside the brownstone during the sweltering heat of the day. The presence of a certain lovely spirit kept the place quite cool and comfortable. He would sit in the study and write. The return of his beautiful ghostly companion renewed his creativity and imagination, and the intrepid reporter Jameson Rook and his ghostly love, Nicole, found themselves on yet another adventure. And Katherine kept him entertained in the evenings. He would rest his head in her lap, and she would read to him, all the while her soft cool fingers would comb lazily through his hair and massage his scalp.

However, despite how easy it would be to simply shut himself away during this scorching summer, Richard Castle was far from being a recluse.

He had the Ryans over for luncheon one day. Katherine had helped him in the kitchen. Castle had found it a delight, watching as knives and cooking ware flew about the room seemingly on their own. It was marvelous watching her work in the kitchen, even if he could not really see her. She was a magnificent cook, a talent she attributed to the many brunches and luncheons she helped her mother prepare. Katherine cooked most of his meals now. He would often wake in the morning to discover she had already prepared a light breakfast. And if it were the beginning of the week, she would have already put together a shopping list of produce, meats, or other various ingredients for him to purchase.

During the luncheon with the Ryans, Castle chose not to sit at the head of the table, the traditional place for the host. Instead, he sat opposite his guest. To Kevin and Jennifer Ryan it appeared that the seat beside him was empty. But that was not the case. Katherine sat beside him for the duration of the meal. Her invisible hand would occasionally linger over and rest on his thigh. It caused a tingling sensation along the surface of the skin beneath his trousers, and he found it difficult at times to concentrate on the conversation he was having with his friends. Thankfully, the Ryans were oblivious to this, still as blissfully in love as they had been when they were still just newlyweds.

"The World's Columbian Exposition in Chicago opened on the first of the month," Kevin Ryan said. "I was curious if you were planning on attending?"

The city of Chicago had been awarded the world fair in 1890, and was expected to be an influential social and cultural event. The Fair was to celebrate the 400th anniversary of Christopher Columbus's arrival in the New World in 1492. The centerpiece of the Fair was supposedly a large water pool, which was to represent the long voyage Columbus took to discover America.

"I had thought of it, yes," Castle spoke honestly, because he had. Before he knew Katherine had not really left the brownstone, he had been planning on attending the Chicago World's Fair. "However, I have just returned from a long book tour and my publishers really would like it if I focused on the next Jameson and Nicole book. So I have no plans to leave the city any time soon."

"Ah, that is to bad," Ryan said. "The papers say that the eccentric inventor, Nikola Tesla, will be displaying some of his electrical devices."

"It is quite extraordinary," Jennifer said, dipping her spoon into the chicken lentil soup. "The papers even said something about a fully electrical kitchen, including an automatic dishwasher! Can you imagine such a thing!?"

"We truly live in a marvelous age," Castle said, thinking not just of the stupendous inventions and innovations occurring during the later half of the 19th century, but also of the supernatural world he had lived in for the past three years since his purchase of the brownstone.

"Hmm, this is simply sublime," Jennifer praised the soup after having her first taste.

"Yes, it is," her husband Kevin Ryan concurred with a nod. "Quite delicious."

"Sadly, I cannot take credit," Castle informed his friends, enjoying a spoonful himself.

Jennifer Ryan eyed him with a suspicious glance. "Really? Then who made this magnificent soup?"

Castle licked his lips as he glanced sideways at the empty chair beside him. "A lady friend of mine," he admitted in a shy voice. "She was not satisfied with my eating habits and has, on occasion, seen to my meals."

"Ooh… a lady friend," Jennifer raised an intrigued eyebrow. "How mysterious." When he failed to offer up any more information, Jennifer exchanged a confused look with her husband, before returning her attention to Castle. "Well, you must give her my compliments."

"Yes," Kevin Ryan nodded in agreement. "You are one lucky rascal."

"I like to think so, yes." Castle chuckled. "I shall pass along the rave reviews." And though he could not see her, Castle knew that Katherine was beaming with pride.

XXX

In the afternoon, after the Ryans had departed, Richard Castle found himself up in the attic. He had discovered the other day that the Becketts had left many things behind when they had moved, and with Katherine's permission, he had a notion to explore what had been left. There was a bunch of old bed sheets, musky and moth-eaten. He would have to dispose of those. He also found some small trinkets, of little value other than to the owners. And then, in another crate, to his great surprise, he found items that had clearly belonged to a child. It was not difficult to deduce that these little toys and dolls must have been Katherine's when she was a young child.

He smiled softly to himself as he held up a small button-eye doll with now pale-red yarn for hair. The little dress it was adorned with was a pale green, but much of been more vibrant all those years ago. Castle stared at the doll and could not help but imagine a young bright-eyed Katherine Beckett skipping around the brownstone with the doll in her hands. But then, before he could prevent it, the image of the little girl morphed, turning into a perfect combination of himself and the ghostly Katherine. His heart thumped with longing, and he fought back against an unwelcomed sob.

Castle absently dropped the doll back into the crate and stood up, backing away from the childhood mementos. Ducking his head, he maneuvered around the many crates and chests that the Becketts had left behind when they departed and sold the brownstone. As quick as possible, he made his way back down the wooden ladder and closed the attic door. Taking calming breaths, and shaking his head, Castle tried to rid his mind of the images the doll had conjured up.

Despite what he may wish, it could never be. And it did not do him to dwell on such matters. He needed to cherish what little happiness the universe seemed willing to grant him.

XXX

Later that evening, he lay reclined on the gold and red upholstered settee in the lounge, his eyes closed as he listened to the sweet voice of his beloved as she read to him Lady Windermere's Fan by Oscar Wilde, one of Castle's more recent book acquisitions, thanks in part to his contacts within Black Pawn. Katherine's voice was serene, and it was easy for him to be swept away in the prose. Of course, it helped that Oscar Wilde's narrative structure was flawless and his dialogue was clever and fantastic, making Castle a little envious. Yes, he was a successful writer, however most literary critics generally considered his supernatural mystery novels, with a hint of romance, nothing more than pulp fiction for the masses.

As she read, Katherine would occasionally reach out with her fingers and stroke his hair. He closed his eyes and relished in the feel of her cool fingertips brushing through his thick locks.

"In this world there are only two tragedies. One is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it," she read out loud from the book.

Castle could relate. He both had and did not have that which he wanted most in the world. It was an odd sort of limbo to be in. And his early reaction to the doll made it all the more potent this evening. Katherine's angelic voice trailed off as he sat up. He lowered his head and scrubbed is hands up and down his face, trying to rid himself of this melancholic mood.

"Richard?" she questioned, he could hear the worry in her voice.

He glanced up at her translucent face, wishing the image of her was solid. It was strange seeing the ticking hands of the clock centered on her lovely visage.

"I went up into the attic today," he explained. "I found a crate full of toys. I am surprised your parents left it behind when they moved out."

"Too many painful memories, I would think," Katherine reasoned.

He nodded, agreeing. "I… picked up this little button-eyed doll—"

"Molly!?" Katherine exclaimed, and then giggled when he looked at her questioningly. "Oh, Richard… she was my favorite doll as a little girl." If she were a flesh and blood woman, and not some strange blue plasmatic specter, he would have said she was blushing.

Castle inclined his head, pursing his lips and offering her a tight smile. "Perhaps I will bring it down next time I go up into the attic."

"Please do," she said, giving him a dreamy smile. He knew very well that Katherine could retrieve the doll if she so wished. It pleased him that she would allow him to do such a task for her.

"Anyway," he paused, summoning up the courage to tell her about his imaginings of a little girl that was a perfect combination of the two of them. "I was holding the doll, and thinking…" His voice trailed off, no longer certain he could confess what he had dreamed while up in the attic.

"Yes?" Katherine encouraged. He could feel her move closer to him, her hand moving up to caress his shoulder and arm, leaving gooseflesh in her wake.

He shivered, his skin tingling as it always did when she touched him. He averted his gaze and heaved in a deep breath, and confessed as to what he had imagined whilst holding her childhood doll.

"Oh, Richard… I am so sorry," she leaned into him, wrapping her spectral arms around his torso.

Closing his eyes, he canted into her ethereal form, taking comfort from her cool embrace. "It is not your fault, Kate," he said, using the nickname she had given him permission to use back during the spring. "I fear I will always have these dreams. But, I swear to you," he pulled back and wiped at his water eyes, locking his gaze with her otherworldly one. "It changes nothing. I love you. I will always love you. It matters not that we cannot build a family like any other happy couple. Just as long as I have you by my side, I swear to you, by all that I hold dear, that I will be happy and content in this life."

Katherine arched her neck on a sigh, and he shivered, feeling her cool breath dance across his face. "What of the token you acquired from the Chinese mystic in San Francisco?" she inquired.

His eyebrows rose in astonishment. Yes. Oh, yes… in all the excitement over being reunited with his beloved Katherine, Castle had forgotten about the jade encrusted token he had purchased from the Chinese mystic. The man had told him that it would help him commune with the spirits of those he loved who had passed on to the other world. Castle flicked his eyes back up to hers.

"Yes, yes," he bobbed his head, a smile forming across his face. "You are right. Kate… you are brilliant. I love you."

She smiled serenely at him, eyes twinkling. "I love you, too, Richard," she replied. "Now, pray tell, why am I brilliant? I should like to know."

"Oh, so many things," he grinned, reaching up to run his fingers along the side of her face. He had long since mastered the art of touching his ghostly love. Katherine closed her eyes, easing into his touch. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up on end and his skin erupted with gooseflesh. It felt amazing. "Well, to begin with, you have haunting good looks."

She snorted, and rolled her eyes, gracing him with that little glare of hers, which he found so endearing and attractive. She had no idea what it did to him, what desires it stirred in his loins. "You think you are so very clever, do you not?"

"But I am," he smirked back, having fun. "I am cleverly clever. The cleverest." Katherine bit her lower lip and shook her head at him. He grinned back, moving his hand to cup her pale transparent cheek. She leaned into him, allowing him to guide her forward.

And then he kissed her, sweetly.

There was a plan. He had a plan. It was already forming in the back of his mind. It would take some study and hard work, but in just a couple months, Richard Castle felt reasonably confident that he would finally be able to make love to the ghost of Katherine Beckett.