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A shadowy figure stood in the doorway, and the guys took off for it like they’d been called into action.
“Whoa there, gentlemen! It’s me. Sheriff Braniff,” the shadowy figure said, as his face lit up from all our lights at once, and he tugged off his hood. He waved a hand, and we cut the lights on his face. “I saw that your front door was open, so I thought I’d check. Sorry if I scared you.”
A type of awning hung over the front door to shelter the person standing in front of it from the elements.
“It’s fine. We’re just a little jumpy,” Vince told him. “Come on in and get out of the rain. We were thinking of spending the night. Sort of a test run before I open the place to tourists. Got a little creepy, so we’re thinking of heading back home.”
“No time to come in, but thanks for the offer. Power’s out in the entire town. Got a couple of crews out making sure everyone’s okay, while the power company tries to fix the problem. Handing out flashlights, batteries, and a few first aid supplies to anyone who needs it. You folks look like you’re okay.”
“Yeah, we’re fine,” Vince told him.
“Got any idea when the lights will be back on?” Bram asked as he stood off to the side.
“Probably not until tomorrow, some time,” the good sheriff said. He looked harried. Like it had been a long night already, and he hadn’t even begun his task. “Got some trees down, and they pulled the lines down with ‘em. Streets aren’t safe to drive. Too much debris flying around. No flooding, but still, you folks need to stay put. We’re telling everybody to stay inside unless it’s an emergency. And even then, you’re better off calling it into the station so somebody can escort you on the few streets that’re still open.”
“Will do,” Vince said, and with that, any hope of us leaving this ghost infested house just vanished.
“Well, I’ll be moving along now. But don’t hesitate to call if you need anything,” he said, then turned to head out, as Vince and Bram struggled to shut the door.
“What the hell,” Vince said as the wind pushed them back along with the rain that refused to ease up.
Freddie and I jumped in to help, and sure enough, it felt more like something or someone was pushing against us, rather than just the wind.
When we finally got it closed, Vince double locked it, but I had a feeling that whatever was pushing against us was stronger than his locks.
“Maybe we should push the dresser in front of it,” I suggested.
A large antique mahogany dresser stood on the side wall. It must have weighed a couple hundred pounds if not more.
“Good idea,” Freddie said, going over to the dresser to try to move it, which he failed to do. When we all pitched in, we were able to move it in front of the door, at the exact time when the door pushed open again. Only this time, we kept it to a couple inches instead of wide open.
“What the fuck?” Vince grumbled. “I locked the damn thing.”
“Apparently, that’s not enough tonight,” I told him with a shiver. “I need another beer.”
And I headed back to the warmth of our cozy library.
Freddie followed me.
“I’m going to check upstairs to make sure everything’s okay,” Vince said.
“I’ll come with you,” Bram offered, and they took off up the stairs, while Freddie and I hurried into the living room.
I stacked the plates, and Freddie cleared up the empty beer bottles. We brought everything out to the kitchen, grabbed another sixpack, and headed back into the living room, where Freddie tossed another log onto the fire.
Once we had everything cleaned up and had the fire roaring again, we sat leaning against the sofa, tucked in tight with the blanket over our legs.
“So, I guess we’re stuck here tonight,” Freddie mumbled, while gazing at the fire.
“Yeah, I guess we are. Want to hand me a beer?”
“Sure,” he said, reaching next to him and pulling out a longneck from the new sixpack. I hated drinking beer from a glass or a can but loved it from a cool bottle where the moisture dripped down the sides, like it was dripping down a man’s ripped chest on a hot day. He twisted the top off and turned to me.
“Here,” he said, holding it up. “Let me give you that first taste.”
My instinct was to tell him to just hand me the damn bottle, but as he spoke the words, my insides instantly melted, and I tipped my head back a bit and let my lips part.
“That’s my girl,” he whispered, as he ran his thumb over my parted lips, then gently placed the bottle on my lower lip.
