A/N – Sorry for the long wait, folks. Life, you know? Anyway…here's this chapter! I know, it's a bit shorter than my normal drop, but that's how it happens sometimes. Enjoy!
X
Chapter 4
There, sitting on the balcony, was a blonde woman in a blue dress. She looked as real as anything else.
Hiccup stopped dead. He dropped the mail. He blinked, but she didn't move. He lifted his arm and waved to her.
She shifted in the chair and then waved back.
Hiccup left the mail in the grass and ran back to the house. He bolted through the door, up the stairs, and into the second-floor parlor that led out onto the balcony. He yanked the door open.
The balcony was empty.
The chair that he had so clearly seen her in was empty.
"Astrid?" Hiccup asked.
He had nothing. No flashlight. No EVP recorder. No camera. He hadn't hooked the parlor's balcony into his monitoring.
No one answered.
He said anyway, "I saw you. I did. You were sitting here, right here in this chair. You were wearing blue. Your hair was up. It's blonde."
A soft, cold sensation met the back of his hand.
"You're here," he said.
He was sure, if he had brought the flashlights, she would have said yes.
X
Hiccup fixed himself a quick breakfast of eggs and toast, and then set to work. He hadn't gotten around to listening to the EVP session from the night before. Instead, he downloaded the files and emailed them to Fishlegs, asking him to give them a listen if he had the time.
Hiccup started the task he'd been dreading. Unpacking.
So far, he'd only unpacked what he had to, and most of his things were still in boxes. He started in the office and put his books, which he'd shuffled through earlier, in their proper place on the built-ins. He flattened the cardboard box and tossed it out onto the porch. He'd either burn them or take them into town to recycle. He hadn't decided yet.
It took all morning to get his office into some semblance of order, and after a quick lunch of microwave pizza, he started on his bedroom. He hung his clothes in the closest and put a picture of his parents on the dresser. It had been his mother's gift to him when he'd announced that he'd bought a house. He propped up her card beside it. Inside, she'd written a short story of when she had moved out on her own for the first time. She'd lived in an apartment the size of a closet with an ant problem.
He loved his mother, even when she got to be overbearing.
He unloaded his things in the bathroom, which didn't take long. He didn't have that much, and he'd left what he didn't need. He could always buy more toothpaste or shaving cream, not that the hair on his face grew fast enough. He'd be fifty before he had a beard like his father's.
Hiccup tossed his razor into a drawer and flattened the shoe box he'd used to carry his toiletries. Hiccup stepped over to the toilet and unzipped his jeans; he started to empty his bladder. He hadn't gone since that morning.
He stretched his neck, and his gaze rolled over the mirror.
He'd left the door to the bedroom open, and the Woman in Blue stood in the doorway, in clear sight of his…parts.
Hiccup yelped, and his stream came an abrupt halt. He shifted his hands over himself, and felt his face burn.
He looked up, but the Woman in Blue was gone.
"Geeze," Hiccup said. He glanced around the bathroom, and not seeing anyone, quickly finished his business, and tucked himself back in. He washed his hands, and returned to the bedroom, but he didn't see her. "Sorry about that, I-I didn't expect you to appear like that."
No one answered, and of course he hadn't brought his EVP with him.
"I know I said I wanted to talk, but, uh, maybe the bathroom isn't the best place to come find me," Hiccup said. How should he talk about privacy with a ghost? "Maybe, it's best if we set some house rules since we're both living here. Is that okay?"
No one answered.
The picture on his dressed shifted.
Hiccup caught his breath, afraid the picture would fall. But it didn't. He said, "My parents. I'm an only child, and I think they're sad to see me leave the nest."
Hiccup stood still. Soft footsteps, like socked feet, padded across the floor and into the hall.
Hiccup followed, but he lost the footsteps in the hall. He walked back down to his computer, fetched his flashlights and EVP, and headed back to the hall.
"Astrid?" Hiccup called. He set the flashlights on the floor like he'd done the night before. "How about, when the bathroom door is closed, it means that I'm taking some private time. Okay?"
Nothing happened.
Hiccup swallowed. Had he upset her? Women in the 1880s would have been more modest than modern woman. Odds were that Astrid had never seen a naked man. Most women didn't until they married.
"Is there a room that you'd prefer me not to go into?" Hiccup asked to the empty hall. "We can both have our private spaces. Mine is the bathroom in the bedroom. You can have any room you'd like, at least up here. I'm kind of using the downstairs. Astrid?"
Yes.
Hiccup breathed relief. "I thought for a moment you were mad at me."
No.
"I'm sorry to startle you. I'm used to my own bathroom. I'll shut the door from now on."
After a moment, the no flashlight lit up.
"No?" Hiccup asked, laughing. "You don't want me to close the door?"
Yes.
"You want me to keep it open?"
Yes.
Hiccup stuttered. "Oh, well, uh, that's the first time a woman's said that to me."
The middle flashlight turned on.
Hiccup laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. He cleared his throat, and said, "There's not really much gray area there. I'm not that social. But, getting back on the subject, is there a room you'd like me to stay out of?"
Yes.
"Is it your bedroom," Hiccup said, pointing to the room that had once been hers.
Yes.
"Okay," Hiccup said. "I'll leave the door closed, and when I'm using the bathroom, I'll shut the door."
Yes.
Hiccup took a deep breath. He was glad that the issue had been solved so easily. He was about to ask Astrid another question, when the shrill series of melodic beats of his phone's ringtone broke the air.
The middle flashlight turned on.
Hiccup started to stand. "No, it's alright, it's my phone." He pulled his phone out of his pocket.
Fishlegs was calling.
Hiccup hit the green phone icon and held the phone to his hear. He knew how odd it must look for Astrid, frightening even, to see technology that her time hadn't even dreamed about.
"Hello?" Hiccup asked.
"Oh my god, Hiccup!" Fishlegs squealed on the other side. His voice sounded distant. Speakerphone.
"Yes? Is everything alright?"
"Alright? Are you joking me right now?"
"I don't think so," Hiccup said.
"Hiccup," Fishlegs said, his voice serious, "did you listen to that EVP you sent me?"
"I haven't gotten around to it yet. I've been a bit busy. I've been unpacking most of the morning."
"It's amazing!" Fishlegs said, his voice cracking. "Is it real? Please tell me it's real! I know it's not like you to fake things, but please tell me it's real!"
"Oh, it's real," Hiccup said. Maybe he should have listened to it after all. "I take it that someone's talking back?"
"Oh, she's talking back," Fishlegs said. "It sounded like she was in the room with you. Is that the ghost? The dead girl? The one that hung herself?"
"I think so," Hiccup said. He glanced around the room. The house was quiet enough that if Astrid stood by, she could hear every word that Fishlegs said. "She doesn't remember it."
"You've talked to her?"
"I've gotten a lot of progress out of the flashlights."
"I knew those would come in handy."
Hiccup started to say something else when he heard a car honk, and the rumble of a big truck. "Fishlegs, are you driving?"
"Yes," Fishlegs said. "I took tomorrow off and I'm driving down there. I need to see this house for myself."
"Oh," Hiccup said. He looked around for Astrid, but didn't see her.
"Do you not want me to?"
"No, that's not what I meant," Hiccup said quickly. "I-I was in the middle of something when you called. I think she might have gotten frightened off by my phone."
"Oh no!" Fishlegs said. "I didn't mean to! I'm on my way. I'll be there in about an hour and a half. Do you think she'll talk to me, too?"
"I don't know, Fishlegs," Hiccup said. "I can't speak for her."
"Right, you're only the 'ghost whisperer.'"
Hiccup shrugged. "No, I'm not."
Someone had given him that name during the first boom their website took, after Hiccup had posted some of his successful EVP sessions. The term stuck after his first book had hit the bestseller. He'd had a way with the ghosts. They seemed to open up to him quicker than anyone else, and stay with him longer. He couldn't explain it any more than he could explain why ghosts existed.
Hiccup ended the call with the expected formalities and stuck the phone back into his pocket.
"Astrid?"
No one answered. The flashlights remained off.
"I'm sorry," he said, and he truly felt it. "I didn't mean to startle you."
He pulled his phone out and set it on the floor. The black, reflective screen looked up at the ceiling.
"It's a way of communicating to people in other locations," Hiccup said. "I was talking to my friend, Fishlegs. He lives about one hundred miles away, but we can talk instantly. It's complicating to explain how they work, and to be honest I'm not sure I know. Are you still here?"
Hiccup was looking down the hall, when a flicker of movement caught his eye. The screen of his phone reflected something other than the ceiling. From his angle, it looked like smoke, but he knew it must be Astrid.
"I am sorry, Astrid," he repeated. "Everyone has phones like this nowadays, and I admit that I'm not used to talking with someone who's never seen a phone before. I know how different today's world must feel from yours. It's probably overwhelming."
Yes.
"Did it upset you when I put technology around the house?"
Yes.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I'll take down the camera in your room. Right now. But, since it is your personal space, I'll only go inside with your permission. Okay?"
Yes.
Hiccup stood and walked over to the door that lead into Astrid's room. In the mirror, he saw his own distorted reflected.
"Astrid, may I come into your room?"
Yes.
Hiccup stepped over the threshold. He'd placed the camera on a stand beside the bed so he could see the window, the bed, the vanity stool, and the doorway. He walked to the camera, unplugged it, turned it off, and carried the camera and the stand into the hallway. He wound the cords around his arm so they wouldn't get tangled. He set the cords down by the stand and stood up to closed Astrid's door.
He saw her in the mirror, standing in the doorway, between him and the mirror. He looked to the spot where she stood.
If he concentrated, he could see the slightly change of the air, the tiny distortion, like heat rising from the blacktop in July.
"I can see you," he said, eyes on her. "But just barely."
An image came to his mind, a young woman of twenty-five, Astrid's age. She was blonde and wore her hair in a braid down her shoulder. Her eyes were startling blue. She wore little to no makeup and her lips were a pale shade of peachy pink. She wore a blue dress that covered her from neck to wrist to ankle, but it fit her perfectly, and she looked lovely.
Hiccup blinked, and the image vanished, but he remembered it.
"I saw you," he repeated.