Date: Mon, 17 Sep 2001 21:27:52 EDT
From: Aterovis@aol.com
Subject: Chapter 27 of All Lost Things

Here is Chapter 27. I apologize for the delay but my heart just wasn't in
writing last week after the attacks. My heart and prayers go out to
everyone affected by these tragedies.

http://www.steliko.com/bleedinghearts

Email: Aterovis@aol.com


Chapter 27

	I was sitting on the front porch later that afternoon waiting for
Micah. I had dressed casual as he had suggested; a pair of faded jeans, a
dark blue short-sleeved sweater shirt that really brought out my eyes (or
so Adam had insisted) and my brown leather sandals. I was enjoying the cool
breeze off the ocean when Micah pulled up.

	I ran to his car and jumped into the passenger seat before he could
get out and open my door for me.

	"Hi," I said as I turned to look at him, slightly breathless and
not from the short run to the car.

	He was smiling ear to ear, his dark hair falling appealingly over
one eye. He was wearing a moss green button-up shirt over a white T-shirt
and jeans. He looked, in a word, incredible.

	"Hi," he said back. "This was the longest day. I couldn't wait to
see you." He leaned forward and gave me a quick kiss on the lips before
throwing the car into reverse and backing into the street.

	I smiled and tried not to blush. "So where are we going?" I asked
him.

	"Do you still need to be in Chicone by eight?" he asked, a more
obvious hint I've never seen.

	"We have to be at Chicone by eight," I answered him, stressing the
'we'.

	"So it's ok with, uh, Steve if I'm there?"

	"Steve said the more the merrier as far as he's concerned. Plus I
think he loved the idea of free publicity. Kane said you could take his
place but Judy specifically said that she wanted everyone who was there the
other night to be there again tonight."

	"So, is this Judy person a medium or something?"

	"Not exactly. She has...um, powers."

	He raised an eyebrow. "Able to leap small buildings in a single
bound?"

	I laughed. "Not quite. I guess maybe it's better to use her word
for it. She's gifted. Sometimes she just knows things. For some reason when
all this happened she came to mind and apparently she's very
interested. She's quite a character, although she's mellowed a lot since I
first met her."

	"How do you know her?"

	"Well, er, she's my ex's aunt."

	"Oh, that's cool. Look, Killian, you don't have to be all
uncomfortable about mentioning your ex. You had a life before me, I
understand that. I had a life before you too. I've told you about some of
it and if you hang around long enough you're bound to find out more."

	"So are you saying when you came out of the closet you left some
skeletons in there?" I asked lightly.

	Micah frowned and answered seriously, "You could say that."

	That certainly piqued my curiosity. "Like what?" I asked, examining
his face.

	"I'd rather not talk about it right now. Sometime, I promise, just
not right now."

	I nodded somewhat uncertainly and we made small talk until we
arrived at the restaurant he'd chosen. It was a small, cozy pizzeria with
wine-bottles turned candleholders in the center of each red-check
tablecloth draped table. They served an assortment of the usual Italian
fare besides pizza but we ended up just ordering a pizza with everything
sans anchovies. We both agreed it was unthinkable to eat whole fish on your
pizza.

	We chatted while we ate and soon the pie was history. Micah paid
the bill and we walked out to the car. It was still early but Micah
suggested we drive out to the house anyway. He was eager to see it and he
wanted me to show him the graveyard before everyone got there. Turned out
that Adam, Steve and Kane beat us there anyway. Kane was sitting forlornly
on the front steps, while Adam and Steve were out of sight, most likely in
the house.

	"Hey Kane," I said as we climbed out of the car. "Are Adam and
Steve inside?"

	"Hey Killian, hey Micah," he said glumly. "Yeah, they've been in
there for a while now. I think they might be painting. I refuse to go in
until I have to."

	"I guess nothing's happened?"

	"Well, no one's come out screaming and I haven't heard any signs of
violent death, so that's the assumption I'm operating under."

	"Aren't you just a barrel of sunshine."

	"Bite me."

	"I think I'll pass, thanks."

	"Ok, you two. Jeez, you fight like brothers," Micah jumped in with
a grin. We both turned lethal glares on him and he pretended to cower
behind a tree. We all laughed.

	"So Kane, you want to walk back to the graveyard with Micah and
me?" I asked. I didn't think there was much chance he'd accept so I was
surprised when he jumped right up.

	"Sure, anything is better than sitting here alone on this damn
porch waiting for the icy hand of death to grab me by the shoulder."

	"Icy hand of death?" Micah repeated. "Is he always this
melodramatic?"

	"Yeah, and he's the straight one," I said. Kane threw a playful
punch at me but I dodged and we all started walking back towards the
graveyard. It didn't take long to show it to him since I wasn't up to
climbing through the briars again and with the evidence of my last trip
still quite obvious on my skin neither was Micah. The wind had picked up as
we walked across the yard and dark clouds seemed to be gathering on the
horizon.

	"Is it supposed to storm tonight?" I asked.

	'They said it was possible," Micah answered.

	"Great, the perfect setting for contacting the dead in haunted
house," Kane grumbled. "Steve couldn't have ordered better weather."

	"It's just a summer storm," I said as we started back. "It's not an
omen or anything. It'll be over in no time, probably before Judy even gets
here."

	But Judy's car was already parked in front of the house by the time
we came back around the corner. The wind had continued to pick up until it
was blowing quite hard and the first fat raindrops had just begun to fall
as we hurried onto the porch and inside.

	"Whew!" I gasped once we were inside and the door was firmly
shut. "Man, that blew up quick."

	"It was a dark and stormy night..." Micah said with a small smile.

	"We're in here," Steve called from the direction of the
ballroom. We followed his voice and found him, Adam, and Judy standing
close together by the fireplace, talking. The chandelier in the center of
the room provided a soft, rather muted lighting effect that would have been
perfect for a social gathering but wasn't quite enough to reach into the
far corners, leaving the uneasy feeling that anything could be lurking
there, just out of sight.

	They turned towards us as we came into the room. Judy's eye
immediately fell on Micah.

	"Judy, this is my friend Micah Gerber," I introduced
quickly. "Micah is a reporter for the local paper. Micah, this is Judy
Davis."

	They shook hands while Judy looked him over. Micah shifted uneasily
under her scrutiny. I couldn't blame him. It was almost like she was
looking into him. I remembered being trapped in that gaze myself and didn't
envy him for a second.

	To look at Judy you would never think for a second that she could
be so intimidating. She's petite and pretty with short curly blonde hair
that always reminds me of Meg Ryan's infamous locks and bright, piercing
blue eyes.

	Judy released his hand and nodded. "Ok, but try to stay out of the
way, ok?"

	"Sure thing," Micah said. "That was the understanding." He
immediately drew himself away from the rest of us and lounged against the
wall by the door that led back into the hall.

	"Ok," Judy said and all eyes were immediately on her. We knew
instinctively that this was her show, we were just bit players. "I've never
really done anything like this so we're all going to be working blindly."

	"That doesn't inspire confidence," Kane muttered under his breath,
but Judy heard him anyway.

	"I don't think we have anything to be afraid of, Kane. From what
I've been able to gather the spirits in this house, if there are any, and
it seems there are, have never been violent or dangerous. I think, like
Killian said, that she, meaning Amalie, just wants to tell us something."

	"Well, what do we have to do?" Steve asked, obviously eager to get
started.

	"I think the first thing we need to do is see if there's anything
that all her, er, manifestations have in common."

	Everyone thought for a moment but no one volunteered anything. A
sudden crack of thunder made us all jump.

	"I can't think of anything," Steve said. "And I've been here every
time, although I haven't seen her."

	"Well, that's something. If you've been here every time..."

	"But I've been here lots of times when nothing has happened."

	"Something has happened every time I've been here," I spoke up.

 	"Me too," Kane added.

	"Yeah, but you've only been here once," I said.

	"How many times have you been here, Killian?" Judy asked.

	"Three or four."

	"Actually," Steve said slowly, "The only times I can remember
anything obvious happening was when Killian was here." Every eye turned my
way.

	"Ok, we may be getting somewhere," Judy said.

	"What?" I yelped. "What do you mean? Why are you looking at me?"

	"You might be some sort of catalyst, Killian," she said. "Sometimes
certain people seem to draw supernatural activity, no one knows why. It's
usually a young child right around the age of puberty, but some people have
been known to attract them throughout their entire life. And then there are
sensitives."

	"Sensitives?" Adam asked.

	"A sensitive is someone who is, well, sensitive to that other plane
beyond the one we move in. They are more aware of things many people never
see or feel. It used to be called the sixth sense, which is where they got
the name of that movie."

	"I see dead people," Kane whispered. I shot him a dirty look. I
couldn't help but think about Seth and what he'd said the night before.

	"Are you a sensitive?" Adam asked Judy.

	"A fairly strong one," she said. "But what I'm more interested in
now is whether or not Killian is." She faced me. "Usually a sensitive knows
if he or she is. What do you think, Killian?"

	I thought about my conversation with Seth. He hadn't used the word
sensitive but he had said that I was special and that's why I could see him
and talk to him. But then, why hadn't I ever felt like that before? I
hadn't had I? Not that I could remember. I shook my head in frustration. "I
don't know. Maybe."

	"Well, so far you are the only person who has seen her. That's a
good sign right there, that she would let you see her."

	"I don't think she really expected me to see her," I said slowly,
remembering my impressions. "She seemed almost as surprised as I was."

	"Really?" Judy said with interest. "Then you may be a very strong
sensitive if you can see her even when she doesn't necessarily want you
to."

	"Well if Killian's presence is what's causing her to act up, why
are things happening when he's not here?" Steve asked. "We've been having a
lot of trouble with work crews getting so spooked they actually quit. I
don't think it was anything major, certainly no one saw her that I know of,
but things disappearing, footsteps where no one is supposed to be, and that
damn baby crying."

	"Killian isn't causing her to act up. She's trying to get our
attention for some reason. She may sense that Killian is a sensitive and
step up her efforts when he is here, but it seems like she's attempting to
make some sort of contact all the time."

	"She's been quiet tonight," Adam pointed out.

	"Good," Kane threw in.

	Just then a huge flash of lightning lit up the room followed almost
instantaneously by an ear-shattering crack of thunder. The whole house
seemed to shake as the light flickered and threatened to go out.

	"Maybe the storms just drowning her out," Steve said dryly.

	"Do we have any candles here in case the lights go out?" Adam asked
Steve.

	"Oh, great, just what we need," Kane wailed. "Being in a haunted
house during a storm just isn't complete without the electricity going out
and everyone stumbling around with candles. How cliché can you get?"

	"Kane," Adam said in a warning tone. It was clear his patience was
beginning to wear thin with Kane's constant bitching.

	Steve cleared his throat. "No candles, but I have a flashlight out
in the car, maybe I should go get that."

	"I have one, too," Judy said.

	"Me too," Micah added. I'd almost forgotten he was there, he'd been
so quiet.

	"Come on, Micah," Steve said, "You and I can go get them. No sense
in all of us getting wet. Where is yours at Judy?"

	"In the glove compartment," she told him and they hurried from the
room. She turned back to me once they were gone. "I think Steve said that
she seems to have a fixation on the door that leads to the cupola and
that's actually where you saw her, right?"

	I nodded.

	"There may be some connection there. Can you show me where it is?"

	I felt my eyes grow wide at the idea of going up there again, and
in the middle of a huge storm, but I took a deep breath and nodded.

	"I can show you," Adam said, noticing my unease.

	"Actually, I'd rather Killian did it," Judy said firmly. "I want to
hear the story directly from him and get his impressions. And I'd rather
the rest of you stayed here."

	I heard Kane give a little sigh of relief.

	"You know," Adam started, "I had a lot of trouble with this at
first. I didn't want to accept that there might actually be ghosts. It just
seems so unreal, like something out of a horror movie."

	"Oh, they're real," Judy assured him. "They aren't like what you
see on TV or movies most of the time. Very often they are people who died
violently or suddenly with something important to them left unfinished."

	"Unfinished business," Kane said softly.

	Judy smiled at him. "Yes, unfinished business."

	"Will they go away if their business gets finished?" Kane asked.

	"Sometimes, and sometimes not. I'm not sure why they sometimes
don't. Maybe they are trapped in this plane, unable to return because of
some decision they've made, or maybe they just prefer to stay here, they've
grown accustomed to it."

	"I hope she leaves if we figure out what she wants."

 	"Why? Is she really harming anyone? Most don't really mean to hurt
the living, unless maybe you had something to do with their untimely
death."

	"What about all the things you hear on TV and in stories about evil
ghosts?" Kane asked.

	"There are other beings at work than just ghosts," Judy said
carefully.

	"Like what?" Adam asked sharply.

	"Do you believe in angels?" Judy asked in return.

	"Well, yes, I guess so."

	"Well, Judaic history, the Bible, Torah, whatever you want to call
it, tells of the fall of some of the angels."

	"Lucifer," I said.

	"Exactly, along with a third of the host of heaven. Since it also
says that the angels were as many as the stars in the sky or the sands on
the shore, even a third of them would have been an enormous number. Many of
them were twisted after the fall, evil if you will. They are often called
demons."

	"So you're saying-" Adam was cut off as the front door swung open
with a loud bang before being slammed shut again. Micah and Steve
re-entered the room now soaking wet and carrying three flashlights.

	Steve handed Judy hers and he kept the other one. Micah kept the
one he'd brought in.

	"Well, Killian, let's go," Judy said cheerfully.

	"Where are you going?" Steve asked as Micah opened his mouth, no
doubt to ask the same thing.

	"Killian and I are going to go upstairs so he can show me the door
to the cupola. I'd like the rest of you to stay here and wait. I don't
anticipate us being gone very long."

	 I could tell Micah was dying to go but he leaned back against the
wall without a word although his eyes followed us as we left the room. I
switched lights on as we went although not every fixture had a bulb in
it. Judy started talking to me in a low voice almost as soon as we were out
of the room.

	"Killian, I have no doubt that you are a sensitive. I've always
thought you might be and this just confirms it. Now we just need to figure
out how strong your gift is. Your impressions and feelings could be
invaluable to figuring this out."

	"But I don't have any impressions," I said, "and my only feeling
right now is carefully controlled terror."

	She laughed. "I guess this must be somewhat scary considering it is
your first time. It is your first time, right?"

	"First time?"

	"Seeing the spirit of a dead person?"

	I hesitated a moment before answering and that was all the answer
she needed. "It isn't, is it?" she said, jumping on my meaningful pause.

	"Maybe," I said stubbornly. I wasn't ready to talk about
Seth. Besides, that was different. I knew him and he wasn't scary at
all. Except for when he woke me up in the middle of the night by sitting on
my bed.

	Judy let it go, although I was sure it wouldn't be the last I heard
of it. "Tell me the whole story of what happened when you saw Amalie."

	I quickly told her the whole story, which didn't take long since
there wasn't that much to tell. When I had finished, she asked, "And what
were your impressions when you were in the hallway, or in the cupola?"

	I thought back. "I felt like there was something in the hallway
with me when I came out of the room I was painting in, but I didn't see
anything except that the door was open, the cupola door. I didn't feel
anything in the room. Well, actually, I was really scared on the stairs
going up there, but that was just because I was so afraid of what I might
see. Once I got up there and saw it was empty I was fine."

	"Or maybe you felt something in the staircase, some latent
emotions."

	By now we'd reached the hallway on the third floor. I flipped the
switch and a single light bulb lit the corridor. It was enough to see that
the door was closed. We walked down the hall and stopped in front of the
door. It was latched. I felt a chill go up my spine as Judy reached out and
unlocked it. She turned the knob and the door swung open with an eerie
creak, the perfect sound effect for the scene. She stepped back.

	"Light?" she asked. It seemed as if we had both suddenly run out of
words, or maybe our thoughts were just too taken up with the moment at
hand. Or maybe Judy felt the same sense of tension and foreboding that I
felt. I reached around her, keeping her in front of me still, and threw the
switch. Nothing happened. I flicked it back and forth a few times but it
was obvious the bulb had burnt out.

	"Good thing I brought the flashlight," Judy mumbled and clicked it
on. A narrow, somewhat weak beam cast a path up the worn wooden steps. The
dim light from the hall didn't reach much past the first couple steps and
beyond that there was just an inky gloom punctuated by the flash of
lightning. I wasn't at all keen on going up there but I was less keen on
staying down here by myself, so when Judy started mounting the stairs I was
right on her heels.

	About halfway up she suddenly stopped with a sharp intake of breath
and began to sway back and forth unsteadily. I grabbed her around the waist
and she braced herself against the wall with one hand.

	"What is it?" I whispered hoarsely.

	"Don't you feel it?" she gasped.

	"Feel what?"

	"My God," she moaned thinly. Her knees seemed to buckle and she
began to sink down onto the stairs. My grip slipped from her waist to under
her arms as I began to frantically try and drag her back down the
stairs. "No," she said, her voice stronger. She pulled herself back up and
quickly ran up the last few steps. I quickly followed.

	She just stood there for a minute, staring back down the
stairs. The room was constantly lit up with flickering blue-white light as
one streak of lightning followed after another with almost no pause in
between. The roll of thunder was an almost deafening rumble up here, like a
passing parade of Harleys. The glass in the windows rattled in its panes
from the wind, rain and thunder. If I hadn't been so terrified I would have
been awed by the sheer majesty of Nature. I felt like I was in the very
center of the storm.

	Judy spoke, her voice bringing me back to the present with a thud,
"Something happened on these stairs."

	"What?" I said, my throat tightening.

	"I'm not sure," she said slowly. "I felt a wave of pain down there
that almost dropped me to my knees, physical pain. And I sense death."

	I had to gulp several times before I could speak again, "Could that
be the ghost?"

	"No, I don't think so. It felt...different. I felt mourning
too. And..."

	"And what?"

	"I don't know, but whatever it is, it's a part of the steps now,
like a psychic stain."

	We were both quiet for a minute; there was just the sound of
thunder in the small room.

	"Why would she come to this room?" she asked, almost to herself.

	"She came to watch for her husband," I answered. "You can see quite
a ways up the river from here. He was a sea captain. She would come up here
to wait for him. Except he never came back that last time. He died at sea."
I was babbling and I knew it. She'd probably already heard all this before
but it was preferable to the silence. "Maybe that's why she keeps coming
back, she's still waiting for her husband. And that's why she's
mourning. Maybe she even killed herself or died on the stairs."

	"Poppycock," Judy said, waving away my suggestion. "That kind of
melodramatic romantic crap only happens in those old Victorian gothic
novels. No real woman strong enough to run a house like this on her own
would pine away waiting for a husband to come back that she barely knew."

	"Barely knew?"

	"He was much older than her, right?"

	"Well, yeah."

	"And he was away on the sea for months at a time, probably for much
of the year. No doubt she did keep watch for him, if for no other reason
than to be ready for him when he arrived, welcoming him like any good
wife. But I seriously doubt that she was so in love with him that she threw
herself down the stairs to her death when he failed to appear on
schedule. Besides, Steve didn't say anything about her dying tragically,
and trust me, the newspapers of the time would have mentioned it if she
had. My guess is she died of some illness. There is the taint of death on
these stairs though, and what is it that draws her here?"

	I was about to suggest we go back downstairs and discuss this with
everyone else when a huge streak of lightning hit somewhere close to the
house. The accompanying sound was like an explosion and left my ears
ringing. The flash itself left me blind for a few seconds. When I blinked
away the spots I realized that the hall light was out now too. I hadn't
realized how the dull glow had been a kind of anchor until it was gone. The
only light now to be seen came from the flashlight in Judy's hand and the
ever-present lightning.

	"That sounded close," Judy said. "Maybe we'd better go check on the
others."

	"Sounds good to me," I said weakly.

	She started down the stairs with me right behind. Again, she
stopped abruptly about halfway. I reached out to steady her but she didn't
seem to need it. Her body had become rigid. I felt the hairs stand up on
the back of my neck and I knew without looking why she'd stopped so
suddenly.

	"I think," Judy said under her breath, "that she wants us to follow
her."