Every Boy Should Face His Demons, Charlie Boone! - 9. Chapter 9

"That's an amazing tale," Horace said, watching Charlie closely as he finished recounting his trip. "I would even say an unbelievable one, if I didn't sense otherwise."

"I have no proof," Charlie said. He looked at his friends, and smiled, and then let his gaze go back to Horace. "Fortunately, you're the only one I have to convince."

"Oh, my, but you have." The ghost hunter gave a gentle nod of his head. "I have learned to trust the sight, Charlie. I am listening to it now, and it is telling me you speak the truth."

Charlie smiled. "Well, that helps."

Ricky frowned at him. "I felt you go. Me and Adrian came right upstairs. Kip is right, it's like you were all the way gone."

"Wherever it was you went, it was an awfully long way off," Kippy reiterated. "Next time, take a bus instead."

Charlie smiled at his boyfriend, and squeezed his hand under the table.

"The link I sense between the four of you is quite amazing," Horace said, smiling. "Strong. It doesn't surprise me now that you all work so well together." He sighed. "I'd ask how the four of you came by such closeness, but I'm certain it would be quite rude of me."

Charlie laughed at that. "Maybe we'll tell you. Someday."

The ghost hunter's eyes circled the table, and he smiled. "I think maybe you might. I'll be satisfied with that, for now." He leaned forward in his chair. "But for our next step, I think we need to try to understand the reason for your journey. The meaning of it, as I'm sure there was one."

Charlie shrugged. "I know the reason. Someone was showing me something. But, you're right. Now we just need to figure out what it all means."

"Have you any ideas?"

"A few. It's a little early for guessing, though." Charlie turned to Kippy. "I'm thinking now that your idea from last night needs to be our next step. We should talk to Mrs. Ravishaw."

Ricky grunted. "Yeah. But will she tell us anything?"

"We won't know unless we ask," Adrian supplied.

Kippy made an irritated sound. "But no more sneaking around the subject, like we did with Mrs. Viggerol. That made me feel like I was dirty or something."

Horace laughed at that. "Oh, I'm afraid you'd better get used to that, Kippy. Investigating things that people do not wish to acknowledge, let alone talk about, would be nearly impossible without the occasional subterfuge."

Charlie smiled at the irritated expression that flitted across Kippy's face, and then the look of resigned acceptance. "Well, then I'll never make a great ghost hunter, let me say that."

They got some breakfast, and talked, and fed Moped, who seemed to know something was up, and insisted on laying on the floor with her muzzle right atop Ricky's shoe, as if showing her desire to be supportive. Ricky kept bending down and rubbing her head, which seemed to make her more relaxed, until she finally rolled onto her side and went to sleep.

"Now we just need to find where Mrs. Ravishaw is living," Kippy said.

Horace cleared his throat, as if a prelude to speaking, and Charlie favored him with a smile. "Let me guess. Your research sources?"

The ghost hunter looked pleased with himself. "Well...they are rather good at this point." He laughed. "Actually, she was not at all hard to find. A place like Norwich does not exactly have retirement facilities on every corner. They have one, in fact, and it is a loose community living in a very relaxed setting comprised of apartments and bungalows. Mrs. Ravishaw has a bungalow at Millcrest Farm."

"I don't suppose you have a phone number?" Charlie asked.

"Well, as a matter of fact..."

Ricky made the call. He explained that he was Annie's cousin, and that he was staying at the octagon house, and that he was enthralled with the place, and that he wondered if he could come by with a few friends to talk to her about the history of the house. It was not an outright deception, as they really did want to learn more of the house's history. But they thought it best not to announce right over the phone that that wanted to talk about mysterious entities that might be residing at the house.

Mrs. Ravishaw, for her part, seemed eager to speak on the subject, and invited them to come over at eleven. They got directions, and said they would be there.

Ricky frowned when he hung up the phone. "I think I know what Kip means now." He looked around the table at the others. "She seems like a really nice lady. I felt like I was lying to her."

"You didn't lie about anything," Horace said. "You simply did not mention one part of our reason for visiting."

Ricky raised one eyebrow. "Yeah? Sometimes, not saying something is a lie, too."

Horace sighed, but smiled at them. "Young people with morals. Whatever is this world coming to?"

Kippy hooted, and Charlie smiled. Adrian looked pleased and patted his boyfriend's arm. Ricky just sighed, and shook his head. "Well, anyway, we have an invitation."

They took Moped outside for a short walk before going. She romped about in the leaves, and dared them all to chase her. Ricky and Adrian obliged, while Charlie stood with his arm around Kippy and watched. Horace stood nearby, seeming to enjoy the moment.

It was a cool day, and breezy, and the multicolored trees waved gently back and forth while leaves rained down from their thinning tops. The sun was here and there, peeking out from behind a line of passing clouds, obviously challenged, but never gone for long. The rest of the sky was blue and friendly, and Charlie could almost imagine living in a place like this forever.

The octagon house towered behind them, looking something like a lighthouse of old, between its unusual shape and its glass-encrusted cupola soaring so high above the ground. Beyond the house, and all around it, stood forest, save for the one open area that gave a view of the town of Norwich in the valley beyond. The land held some stunning places, and Charlie could almost picture the first time the original Mr. Ravishaw had stood here and imagined a home in this wonderful place.

Life, Charlie was finding out, was composed of a multitude of outstanding moments, coupled together by the joys and sometimes pitfalls of daily living. Memories were defined by the outstanding moments, mostly, which were etched into the mind by the hand of a much finer engraver than were those moments that simply constituted life in general. Here, he knew, was just such a moment, one he would remember forever.

"It's so beautiful here," Kippy said softly. "I can't imagine there being anything ugly hiding inside that house."

Charlie nodded, and pulled Kippy against him. "We've come to think of Halloween as a time to be scared. Even when it's all in fun. But I'm seeing now that it's a time of wonders of all kinds, not just scary ones." He turned his head and smiled at the house. "There's something here, and it seems a little scary, but I think it's because we don't understand it yet."

"I want to know," Kippy said.

Charlie nodded. "So do I."

Finally, it came time to go to their meeting with Mrs. Ravishaw. Horace insisted on driving, saying he was sure his car would have more room. They climbed into it and headed down the drive. Charlie was actually amazed at how smoothly the car ran, though he did think the suspension was a little mushy compared to what he was used to. The interior was spotless, but the seats a little slippery, and there were no seat belts in the car. Who ever heard of that!

They found the retirement village easily enough, and the bungalow belonging to Mrs. Ravishaw. Another, somewhat more elegant older car stood out in front of it, a Cadillac, Charlie thought, though it was hard to tell under all the chrome and fins.

"Yes, that's what it is," Horace agreed. "A fifty-nine. And in beautiful condition!"

Ricky smiled at that. "Just think, Charlie. Someday we can get older and drive around in cars we bought next year, too."

They laughed at that, though Horace's eyes twinkled with merriment over their joking. "Now, now. A love for things of the past does not mean one cannot enjoy the present, or the future."

"I want an electric car," Adrian countered. "Or hydrogen powered, or whatever comes after gas. Something that doesn't pollute like the cars we have now."

"I would say you will get your wish," Horace offered. "All it takes is demand."

They eyed the house, and Charlie had to smile. "This is a bungalow? You could house a family of four here, no problem."

"Shh," Horace said, smiling. "Let us all be polite to the lady, shall we?"

They approached the front door, which opened as they reached it. An older woman leaning on a cane stood behind it, dressed in comfortable looking brown slacks and top. Charlie had sort of expected a dress, and an expensive, maybe even exotic one. The woman's hair was gray, with what looked like blonde accents, and done nicely in a curly perm. Her face had indeed once been beautiful; that was certain, and was still lovely, and made even more so by the pleasant smile she wore as she greeted them.

"Richard?"

Ricky stepped forward and gave a nervous little bob of his head. "Uh, that's me. " He smiled. "It was awfully nice of you to see us."

Mrs. Ravishaw's green eyes looked him over, and Charlie felt like she was one that didn't miss much. She nodded. "I can tell you're related to Annie." She smiled at all of them. "Come inside, and we'll make our introductions."

They were ushered into a comfortably large front living room, and Charlie could immediately see where the furniture from the octagon house had wound up. It was pleasant and old fashioned, and had all the marks of home. A large black cat sat atop the back of the sofa, and waved its tail at them while examining them with fierce yellow eyes.

"Behave now, Matilda," Mrs. Ravishaw scolded the animal, as she told everyone to be seated. She smiled at them. "I have a live-in assistant, but this is Neve's day off, and she went off to see her mother. If anyone is hungry or would like a drink, I'll show you to the kitchen, as I am not so good with carrying things these days."

"We're fine," Charlie said, smiling as Kippy headed straight to an upholstered love seat and plopped down into it. He went and sat next to his boyfriend. "We had breakfast only a short time ago."

Introductions were made all around, with Horace offering up a real bow as he was presented, which brought a pleased smile to the older woman's face. Once they were all seated. Mrs. Ravishaw set her cane to one side and leaned against the armrest of the high back chair she had seated herself in. "Now, tell me all about the house. How is Annie doing there? Is she happy?"

It seemed a little bit of an odd first question, but Charlie was feeling like he understood the house somewhat better now.

Ricky nodded. "She loves the house. So does Moped."

"That's her dog?" Mrs. Ravishaw smiled. "Matilda loved it, too, so that doesn't surprise me at all." She leaned forward a bit. "And...how do all of you like it?"

Kippy spoke up first. "We all love the house. It's beautiful, and you can tell that there were many happy years spent in it by a lot of people."

The woman digested that with a smile, her eyes moving about from one of her male guests to the next. Charlie felt a familiar tingle as she made eye contact with him, and knew for certain then that one of the things they had guessed at was now true. Mrs. Ravishaw had skwish, though it seemed very weak, even weaker than Mrs. Viggerol's had been.

But the woman took a breath, and let it back out in a contented fashion. "Yes. I can see that all of you really do like the house."

"We were wondering a little about it's history," Ricky offered. "About the man that built the house, in particular."

"That would be my grandfather, Charles Ravishaw. He designed the house, though of course he didn't build it with his own two hands."

Kippy smiled at that, and looked at Charlie. "Charles is a popular name with me."

Charlie laughed, and bumped his shoulder gently against his boyfriend's.

Mrs. Ravishaw seemed not to notice. She tilted her head slightly back, and smiled. "I grew up in that house, went off to see the world, and returned to it later in life. But I was never far away for very long." She nodded. "I have always loved that house, too."

Charlie leaned forward. "An octagon plan is such a unique design. What made him decide on that?"

She smiled. "Well, it was a friend of his that suggested the design, actually. But my grandfather loved it right away, it seems." She sighed. "It is a very unique place."

Ricky looked over at Charlie briefly, and then licked his lips a little nervously. "My cousin got a great deal on the place. We were amazed she got it for the price she did."

Mrs. Ravishaw raised a shoulder and lowered it. "Oh, I was not so concerned with that, as I was making sure that house went to someone who would love it and take care of it."

Ricky looked at Charlie again, and Charlie could see that his friend didn't know quite how to broach the subject that interested them.

Charlie nodded, and sat forward some more. "Mrs. Ravishaw? What is in that house?"

The woman stared at him for a moment, and then looked around at each one of them. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"You never saw anything unusual when you lived there?" Horace asked. "In all those years?"

Mrs. Ravishaw gave a small gasp, and her eyes widened, and she looked back at Ricky. "Is Annie having problems? Has she seen anything unusual?"

"No," Ricky said evenly. "She hasn't."

It took a moment for that to sink in, and then a look of surprise appeared on Mrs. Ravishaw's face. "Oh. You can see them?" She looked around the arc of faces before her. "All of you?"

Charlie nodded. "Yes. And hear them, too."

"But not Annie?"

"No. Not Annie. At least, not that we know of."

A look of relief replaced the look of surprise on the old woman's face. "Oh, you had me frightened there for a moment."

Charlie had to laugh at that. "What does that mean?"

Mrs. Ravishaw beamed at them. "I could feel from the moment I met her that she had the ability to sense the happiness for life that house holds. I knew she would love living there, and be happy. I did not sense that she might be able to see her houseguests, however."

Charlie and Kippy looked at each other.

"Houseguests?" Adrian asked.

Mrs. Ravishaw leaned forward in her seat. "I must know that Annie will not be told of this before I say anything further. She will be happy in that house, and the house will be happy with her. That's all either of them need. You must not spoil it for either of them."

Ricky shook his head. "I have to know she's safe there."

"She is." The old woman smiled, nodding emphatically. "I lived there for a half a century of my life, and was always happy. Annie is in no danger, I assure you."

Ricky looked over at Charlie, and shrugged. Now what?

Charlie cleared his throat. "Mrs. Ravishaw, did your grandfather and Nikola Tesla build something extra into that house?"

Again, surprise appeared on the old woman's face. "Well, you certainly have done your homework, haven't you?" But she seemed relieved rather than annoyed. She settled back into her chair and gazed at them reflectively. "Mr. Tesla believed in an afterlife, just as did my grandfather. They had a plan for...for signaling somehow to the spirits of the dead. The house is a sort of...well, I don't know. A generator, I suppose you might call it. It creates a field with very unique properties, one that Mr. Tesla, especially, thought would attract the spirits of the dead."

Charlie nodded. "And did it work?"

"No. Instead, it attracted...something else."

Charlie frowned. "What, exactly?"

The old woman smiled. "I don't know."

Kippy shook his head. "You lived there for fifty years with something...ghostly in the house, and you don't know what it is?"

Mrs. Ravishaw nodded. "Tell me - you've felt happiness being in that house? A sense of peace and contentment?"

Kippy nodded.

So did Mrs. Ravishaw. "It's not your own sense of peace you feel. Not your own happiness. It's theirs."

That was enough to make even Charlie gasp. "Theirs?"

"Yes. But they share it quite freely. The entire time I lived there, I felt happy and content."

"But you never saw or heard anything unusual?" Horace asked.

Mrs. Ravishaw closed her eyes a moment. "Never. But I did feel, every now and then, that I was not alone there."

Charlie could understand the way the woman felt. The house had made her happy and content. She knew that something unusual was also living there with her, but as she had never experienced any of the strange phenomena one might normally associate with hauntings, she had never had reason to be alarmed.

"I grew up there," Mrs. Ravishaw repeated. "From birth to adulthood. I always felt I was surrounded by friends."

Charlie nodded. "So your grandfather built something extra into the house? The steel framework, energized in some way by a machine of some sort hidden in the other half of the basement?"

The woman gasped. "You must never touch that machine. You must never turn it off!" She looked terrified a moment. "To do so would be to send our guests back to wherever it was that they fled from." She shook her head. "Don't you understand? The house is a refuge for them. A place of safety. If you send them back to where they came from, they will perish!"

"They told you this?" Ricky asked, sounding as if he didn't quite believe it.

"No." Mrs. Ravishaw looked upset now. "I could never see them or hear them. But my grandfather could. He spent the latter years of his life trying to understand them."

"He could talk to them?" Kippy asked.

"No. No, not talk, like we talk. He said they were simply too different than us for speech to pass between our kind and theirs. But he did come to understand them, and they him. They can understand us. He pledged them a safe haven for as long as the house continued to stand. For their part, our guests have worked to ensure that the house resisted some of the efforts of time and weather to tear it down. It's scarcely in worse shape now than it was 120 years ago when it was built."

"How do they do it?" Horace asked. "What do they do?"

"I don't know. It doesn't matter. That house will outlast us all, many times over."

"And when it was for sale?" Ricky asked. "These...guests...they kept those that could not sense their presence from buying it?"

Mrs. Ravishaw smiled. "Not even that." She looked from one face to another. "You have the gift. All of you. I can sense it. Much stronger than I do. Maybe even more strongly than my grandfather had it."

Charlie nodded. "We know about that."

"Then you know that very few people have it." Mrs. Ravishaw sighed. "Those without it get a sort of empty feeling inside the house. It's not the fault of the guests. It's like a negative reflection of the happiness that's there for you and I. People without the gift feel, well, nothing about the house once they go in. They are not impressed. It is not beautiful to them. It is simply...well, boring is the word."

Kippy gasped. "I find that hard to believe! It's a wonderful house!'

Mrs. Ravishaw smiled. "Because you can sense the...the magic, for want of a better word."

Charlie smiled at that. "We have a passing acquaintance with magic." He nodded. "I think I get what you mean. For most people, the house seems bland once they go inside it."

"Exactly. That was why it was so hard to sell. I had to find someone that could sense the happiness, but who was not strong enough to, well, see the guests." She laughed. "I never considered that Annie's family might contain people who were stronger than she was."

"That's why you sold it so cheaply," Ricky said.

"Yes. It wasn't about the money. I just wanted enough for my great-grandchildren. It was much more important to find someone who would be happy with the house, and love it, and take care of it, than it was to make money. I simply offered Annie a price I felt she might be able to afford."

Ricky stood up. "You promise to me that Annie will be okay there."

Mrs. Ravishaw nodded. "It's an easy promise to make. So I do."

Charlie felt the truth of it. Or, at least, that Mrs. Ravishaw truly believed that the house was safe.

"Charlie," Kippy said quietly.

Charlie turned to his boyfriend.

Kippy gave him a pleading look. "We haven't been hurt at all. We got scared a couple of times. But not hurt. I think what we experienced was just the...the guests, trying to communicate with us. They must sense somehow that we're aware of them."

"What about the broken pictures" Ricky asked. "Well, broken, and then not broken."

"Just another attempt to get our attention, I think," Charlie guessed. "They are aware of us, just like we are aware of them. But I think they also know we can see them."

"They would know," Mrs. Ravishaw agreed. She seemed happy now, and Charlie was not sure why.

She smiled at him. "You're wondering what I'm so pleased about."

Charlie laughed, surprised that she could read him so easily. "Yes."

Mrs. Ravishaw leaned back in her chair and laid her arms upon the armrests. "I have come to the conclusion that you will care for the house. And the guests inside of it."

"We don't own the house," Charlie pointed out.

"That's true. But you are close to it, and Annie will trust you and tell you things she might not tell others. Especially you, Richard."

Adrian smiled. "Oh, yes, Richard."

Ricky made a face at his boyfriend, but smiled.

"And," Mrs. Ravishaw continued, " I sense only good things about all of you. You will consider the safety of our guests in your decisions. That's all that's important to me."

Charlie was thinking back now, to when his presence had split, and he had traveled to the odd place he had been. It was starting to make sense to him now.

"There's a way into the other half of the basement?" Charlie asked.

A moment of hesitation appeared in the old woman's eyes. "You must never turn it off, Charles."

Kippy grinned, and leaned heavily against Charlie. But the affection in the action was plain, and Charlie just smiled. "I don't plan to turn it off. I'm just curious about it. And if it's that important, it should be looked at from time to time."

Mrs. Ravishaw considered that, and then nodded. "Go to the fireplace in the piano room. On the left side panel you will find a knob engraved with a star. Pull it out to open the door."

Horace chuckled. "We examined those panels. I didn't think to pull rather than push."

Mrs. Ravishaw shook her head. "There are no moving parts to the machine. It is a unique construction, powered in some marvelous way by the Earth's magnetic field." She sighed. "Mr. Tesla was quite the inventive mind."

"Your grandfather, too, apparently," Charlie said.

Mrs. Ravishaw nodded. "Yes. Do any of you play the piano?"

Horace raised a hand and gently waved it. "I do."

The old woman looked delighted. "My grandfather did, too. The instrument in the house is a marvelous example." She smiled, and briefly closed her eyes. "As a child I used to lay in my bed at night and listen to him play. He loved music. And...so did our guests."

Horace looked astounded. "They understand our music?"

"Yes. Tell me...do you know any Beethoven? Mozart?"

Horace smiled. "Of course."

The old woman nodded. "Tonight, after the sun goes down, sit at the piano and play Beethoven or Mozart. They like that. They will come to listen."

Charlie narrowed his eyes. "Why after sundown?"

Mrs. Ravishaw rubbed her hands together. "I never exactly understood that part. There is something about the sun's field - solar wind, I think it's called - that interacts with the earth's magnetic field, maybe? When our side of the planet faces the sun during the daytime, this wind compresses the planet's magnetic field, and this somehow limits the operation of the field in the house. Our guests are still there, they just cannot show themselves so easily. When our side of the planet is in darkness, the earth's magnetic field stretches out into space, and the field of the house is much stronger. Does that make sense?"

Actually, it did, and Charlie nodded. "It does to me."

The old woman smiled. "You're very easy to talk to, you know. Anyway, the daytime influence of the sun fluctuates, and there are periods where the guests are better able to show themselves. But at night, it is quite easy for them to appear."

Charlie smiled. "I think that's true, too."

Kippy sighed and bumped against Charlie again, and Horace laughed.

Mrs. Ravishaw clapped her hands together. "You've made me very happy."

Kippy smiled at her. "You're very trusting."

The woman nodded. "I have always known when to trust others. I feel it now."

Charlie stood up. "We've taken enough of your time, Mrs. Ravishaw. It was nice of you to see us, and explain so much. I think...I think I feel a lot better about this, too."

The old woman stood, and leaned on her came. "You will come back and see me, I hope?"

Kippy nodded vigorously. "If that's an invitation, we will!"

"It is. And please, do not worry about the house. Or its guests. They will take care of themselves. All they have ever wanted was a safe place to be. They have it there."

"One question," Horace asked. "Are they actually within the house?"

Mrs. Ravishaw frowned. "That was never really determined by my grandfather, or Mr. Tesla. The guests are within the field of the house, but what else that field encompasses, they never did really know. My grandfather always suspected that the field created a much large place - at least for the guests - than just the confines of the house."

"So we will likely never know," Horace finished.

"No. The only two people that even remotely understood this whole thing are now gone."

Kippy touched Charlie's wrist. "And we won't tell anyone else about this, will we?"

Charlie shook his head. "No."

Mrs. Ravishaw closed her eyes a moment, and smiled. "What will you tell Annie?"

"Nothing," Ricky said. "Why spoil it for her?"

"Exactly."

The rest of the group got to their feet, and Mrs. Ravishaw showed them to the door. "It was so very nice to meet you all. Please...come again."

"Oh," Kippy said, turning at the last moment. "I have to ask you...did you ever get trick-or-treaters on Halloween?"

Mrs. Ravishaw smiled. "Of course, my dear. There are children everywhere in this world."

Kippy looked delighted. "So we should have some candy ready, huh?"

"I would. Goodbye for now."

And then they were outside in the sunlight, and getting into Horace's car. Mrs. Ravishaw stood in the door way and watched them, and waved one last time before they were gone.