Dummy of a Ghost (Novella) (Ghost of Granny Apples) (4 page)

The other end of the hall blossomed into a large master suite with its own bath and more doors spilling onto the patio. The décor matched the rest of the house. “The master bedroom was added on to the house about fifteen years ago,” Chris explained. “We added the doors to match those in the living room and redid all the bathroom tile in both baths. We did most of the work and painting ourselves to save money,” he said with pride. “Edgar’s quite skilled with his hands and tools. I just followed his instructions.”

“It’s a beautiful home, Chris,” said Emma. “Once you get the outside done, it will be stunning.”

“Like I said, we’re hoping to do that next year.” He opened a bathroom cabinet and pulled out a bottle of aspirin, shook a couple into his hand, and swallowed them with water he ran from the faucet into a glass he grabbed from the counter.

Kelly picked up a framed photo sitting on the dresser and showed it to her mother. It was of Edgar and Chris. “I didn’t realize you and Edgar were a couple,” she said to Chris, giving him a confused smile.

“Surprise!” Chris said using a small but exaggerated hand gesture of astonishment. Then he took a deep breath and let it out with relief. “Yes, we are. Although I don’t hide it, I’m not entirely out of the closet yet. You two are the first of my old friends I’ve invited here.”

“Do your parents know?” asked Emma.

“Of course,” he answered, “but they aren’t pleased. You’d think with being around show business and all the public gay acceptance these days, they’d roll with it, but nope.” He touched the bump on his head with his fingertips and winced again. “I struggled with confusion for years and even dated girls occasionally.” He shot a shy smile at Kelly. “I had a big crush on you in high school, but I think you know that.” Kelly nodded and smiled at him. “In college,” Chris continued, “I finally came to understand and accept who I really was. But it wasn’t until I met and fell in love with Edgar that I realized to be truly happy I’d have to come out fully. I’m planning on making it public in my act soon. I’m in the middle of writing the set now. At first my agent wasn’t sure it was a good career move, but now he’s totally on board.”

Chris wobbled. Kelly and Emma came to his aid and guided him to sit on the edge of the bed. “I’ll be fine,” he assured them. “I’m just a little woozy.”

“You really should get that bump checked out, Chris,” Emma told him, looking at the nasty injury with concern.

“I promise, Emma. If it gets worse, I will.”

Pugsley had followed them into the bedroom and lay down on a puffy dog bed by the king-sized bed that dominated the room. Suddenly the dog went on alert and started wagging his stumpy tail.

Granny hovered near Emma. “We’ve got company.” The ghost nodded in the direction of the door leading to the patio. Both Emma and Kelly turned slowly toward the door, careful not to attract Chris’s attention. There, at the threshold, two shimmering figures began to materialize. The dog whined.

“Hush up now,” Doug told the dog, and Pugsley quieted.

“Chris didn’t fall like he told you,” Shirley said. “He was struck on the head by someone and would have been finished off if you folks hadn’t arrived.”

“Why would Chris lie to us?” asked Granny, going to the ghosts and asking the question that was surely on Emma and Kelly’s lips.

“I don’t know,” Shirley answered. “But there’s something wrong, terribly wrong around here.”

“We’ve tried to eavesdrop to see if we can figure it out,” said Doug, “but haven’t had much luck. But we think it has something to do with Edgar’s past.”

“Do you know who hit him?” asked Granny while Emma and Kelly listened covertly.

Both Doug and Shirley shook their heads. “He was young with dark skin,” Doug answered. “I’m not sure if he was black or Hispanic. Tall and on the slender side. He was about to hit Chris again when you rang the doorbell. Then he took off over the back fence.”

“He looked to me,” Shirley added, “like the same young man who was here before.”

Emma nodded in Granny’s direction, letting her know to continue with the questions.

“When before?” Granny asked, but before Shirley could answer, Pugsley took off like a shot for the front door, barking his head off.

“Sounds like Edgar’s home,” Chris said. He got up off the bed slowly.

Edgar was charging down the hall calling Chris’s name before they’d even left the bedroom. “What happened?” Edgar said, rushing up to Chris. “Snoop Dog just told me that the paramedics were here.” He saw the bump on Chris’s head and reached out to touch it, halting just short of it and instead placing his fingertips on the side of Chris’s face. “That looks nasty. Let me take you to the ER.”

Chris placed his hand over Edgar’s fingers. “I’m fine, Edgar,” Chris told him evenly. “I slipped on a loose brick out back and fell like a klutz. It’s just a little bump.”

Edgar looked into Chris’s eyes a long time. Chris didn’t look away. “That’s not a little bump,” Edgar insisted. “It looks like your head was nearly split open.”

“You tell him, Edgar,” Shirley said, wringing her hands. “Maybe you can talk some sense into him.”

Emma stepped forward. “The paramedics wanted him to go to the hospital, but he refused.”

“Snitch,” Chris told her, but he said the word with a wink and a smile. “Honey,” he said, turning to Edgar, “it’s going to be fine. The paramedics told me what to watch out for, and it didn’t even need stitches. I’ll be one hundred percent by Tuesday’s show.” He indicated Emma and Kelly. “This is my friend Kelly Whitecastle and her mother, Emma Whitecastle. They’re the ones who found me and called the paramedics.”

“Thank you,” Edgar said to them without taking his eyes off Chris.

Edgar was smaller in stature than Chris, but solid in build with sinewy arms and a solid chest with definition that showed through his knit shirt. Both were handsome men, but while Chris’s face was flush and expectant with youthful confidence and an easy upbringing, Edgar’s face was as edged as broken asphalt with a wariness around the mouth that spoke of early disappointment. Yet when he looked at Chris, the hardness in his eyes softened.

Kelly looked at Emma for guidance. She wanted to ask her mother what they should do with the ghosts and the information they were giving out, but couldn’t in front of Chris and Edgar. As if reading her mind, Emma said, “Do you mind if I use your bathroom?”

Edgar, as if seeing her for the first time, answered with politeness, “Of course not, it’s at the end of the hall.”

“I know where it is,” Emma said with a smile. “Chris just gave us a tour of your lovely home.”

Kelly noted that just before her mother left to go down the hall, she nodded slightly to Shirley, indicating for her to follow.

“Guess I’ll stay here,” commented Doug. “Ghost or not, it doesn’t seem fitting to join the ladies in the powder room.”

“Ya think?” snapped Granny. Granny didn’t seem sure whether to stay or go herself, but in the end she stayed. “Just in case you need help with Doug,” she said to Kelly.

“Why don’t we all go into the living room and wait for Emma,” suggested Chris.

Granny turned to Doug. “What’s this Edgar guy like?” She jerked a thumb in Edgar’s direction as they started to move down the hall to the living room. As she walked, Kelly kept her ears tuned in on the conversation between the ghosts.

“Shirl and I like him,” Doug answered. “Although we weren’t in the picture when they met. It wasn’t until he created the Doug and Shirley puppets for Chris that we felt compelled to come back. It was almost like we were pulled from wherever we were to return and watch over Chris.”

When they got to the living room, Edgar excused himself to get refreshments.

“I’ll get them,” suggested Chris.

“Just put your backside in that chair, mister,” Edgar ordered.

“From what Shirl and I have gathered,” Doug continued saying to Granny as they settled into the living room, “Edgar had a very rough childhood. Drug-addict parents. A string of not-so-good foster homes. Even involvement in a gang when he was not much more than a kid.”

“So you think the attack on Chris stems from Edgar’s past?” Granny asked.

The ghost shrugged. “Could be. We heard them talking a few nights ago about some threat they received. It sounded like it had something to do with Edgar, but we couldn’t tell.”

Kelly forced a smile at Chris, trying to follow Granny and Doug’s conversation without seeming too distracted. “Didn’t you say, Chris, that you met Edgar through a referral?”

Emma came into the living room and sat down next to Kelly on one of the love seats. Shirley was with her.

“It’s true. I needed a new puppet and Edgar came highly recommended by Judy. He’d made hers.”

Edgar came in bearing a tray that held several stemmed glasses and a pitcher of colorful liquid with fresh fruit floating in it. “In fact, it was Shirley who brought us together,” he said, putting the tray down on the large coffee table between the love seats.

“I had the idea for Doug and Shirley in my head along with the photo,” Chris explained, “but none of the puppet makers I consulted seemed to get it. They did some sketches but none of them clicked, until Edgar’s drawings. He did Shirley first and I was so happy, I asked him to create Doug.”

“I was a starving artist when we met,” Edgar said, handing Kelly and Emma each a glass. “This is a booze-free sangria,” he told them. “It’s a wonderful recipe from Chris’s mother.”

“Actually,” Chris said with a smirk, “it’s from my mother’s longtime housekeeper, Freda. She use to make it for us as kids when she made the adults regular sangria.”

Emma took a sip. Then a longer one. “This is delicious. Would you mind terribly sharing the recipe?”

“I’ll e-mail it to you,” answered Edgar with a smile, the earlier sharpness in his face melting into a relaxed look. “I’ve tweaked the recipe a bit from the original, and it’s easy to booze up for parties.”

Emma pulled a card from her bag and handed it to him. “Here’s my e-mail address.”

Edgar studied the card. “That’s right, Emma, you have that paranormal show on TV. Chris told me about it.” He put the card on the table and settled on the arm of the love seat on which Chris was seated. “Did Chris tell you that this house is supposedly haunted?”

“Edgar, that’s just bull and you know it,” Chris said, shooting him a roll of his eyes.

“I know nothing of the sort,” he responded. He looked from Kelly to Emma. “This house was vacant for a long time and supposedly it’s because it was haunted.”

“Frankly,” added Chris, “I think it was empty for so long because it used to be a meth lab. That’s why we got it so cheap.”

“What?” exclaimed Kelly, nearly chocking on her sangria.

“It’s true,” said Edgar. “Even though it was supposedly tested by the Department of Public Health, we had the place tested for toxic residue for ourselves before we bought it. It tested fine, but Snoop Dog is convinced the place is haunted.”

“Do you mean
the
Snoop Dogg?” Kelly asked. “The musician?”

Chris and Edgar looked at each other, then laughed. Edgar took a drink of his sangria while Chris explained. “No, not Snoop Dogg the musician, although that could be interesting. Snoop Dog is the nickname we gave our neighbor across the street. Her real name is Sylvia Doxson. She’s the neighborhood watch.”

“You mean she heads the neighborhood watch?” Emma asked.

“No, she
is
the neighborhood watch,” Chris said. “Officially, we don’t have one.”

“We don’t need one with her around,” scoffed Edgar. “She’s in a wheelchair and home all day. She actually uses binoculars. When the weather’s nice, she’ll spend all day on her porch with those binoculars.”

“Sounds creepy,” said Kelly.

“She’s harmless enough,” Chris said. “Just nosey. Anyway, she claims the house is haunted by someone who was murdered here.”

“We’ve never seen any evidence of any ghosts except us,” said Doug. “Murdered or otherwise.” Next to him, Shirley nodded in agreement.

“Was someone murdered here?” asked Emma. “Don’t Realtors have to disclose that?”

“We asked after Snoop Dog—I mean, Sylvia first mentioned it,” Edgar told them. “We even asked for any police records on the place, and except for the meth lab bust several years ago, there was nothing.”

“Sounds like just an overactive imagination,” Emma said with interest. “Would you mind if I talked to her before we leave? You know, since that is my line of work.”

Chris and Edgar exchanged glances. “Go for it,” Edgar said. “She’ll probably be on her porch when you leave. I’ll bet she’s dying to know who you are.”

Chris got up slowly. “Now, how about a tour of our workshop,” he said with a grin. “It’s actually Edgar’s workshop, but I’m dying to show off his genius.”

Edgar put a hand on Chris’s shoulder. “Maybe I should give them the tour.”

“Stop hovering, Edgar. I’m fine.”