The Gay Ghost - 2. Chapter 2

I fixed things sooner than I had thought. I worked on my apartment every night after work, and by the middle of the week I had everything in its place. I bought a couple of ferns to add life to the living room, some anthuriums for my dining room table and a two-tone salmon colored rose, my favorite, for my desk. I never cared to cook, but I fixed myself a meal just to try the kitchen. The telephone was connected. Everything worked perfectly. I found myself liking my apartment more and more each day.

The landlord came Thursday with the lease. He was pleased with the way I had fixed up the place and I felt proud. Friday, I finished work and was exhausted. I went to bed early without having dinner. I didn't miss it. I wanted to go to sleep and I did the instant I laid my head on the pillow.

It must have been about two o'clock in the morning when I was awakened by a pounding noise in the living room. I got up and went to investigate. Nothing.

"I must have been dreaming. It's not good to go to bed on an empty stomach," I said to myself.

I went back to bed, but I couldn't close my eyes.

"There it is again!" I jumped out of bed. "This time I wasn't sleeping. I know I'd heard it!"

I walked into the living room and turned the lights on. They didn't work. I tried again, and again. They still didn't work.

Silence.

'It came from above,' I thought. 'I'm sure it did! It sounded heavy. From the ceiling. Is the landlord working on the fourth floor? At two o'clock in the morning? Impossible!'

The lights turned on and off by themselves a couple of times, and then stayed on.

A book fell off the shelf in the living room.

I am not a person who scares easily. When I find myself in a situation I can't explain, I just try to forget the whole thing. This time I had to admit I was scared out of my wits. I hurried back to bed, leaving the lights on, I pulled the sheets over my head.

'A malfunction of the electric wires,' I thought. 'I'll call the landlord tomorrow.'

 

First thing in the morning I called the landlord.

"Mr. Papalovinshky?"

"Yes."

"This is Mr. Lanier from apartment 3."

"Yes, Mr. Lanier. How are you today?"

"Sleepy... I mean, Were you working on the fourth floor last night?"

"Last night? No. Why?"

"Well... I heard a noise... and the lights... The lights didn't quite work."

"Oh, yes! I worked over there during the day. I must have left a window open, and maybe the wind... you know. Don't worry, I'll go check it out this afternoon."

"What about the lights?"

"I'll check that out, too. I worked on the wires on apartment 4, you see, I may have loosened something. Nothing to worry about."

"Well, I... I just wanted you to know. I... I knew there was a reason..."

"Yes. Don't worry, everything will be fine."

"Okay... Well, thank you."

"Good bye."

 

I wasn't very satisfied with his explanation, but it was better than nothing. I hoped he was right. I looked around the living room, up there, where I heard the noise. Everything seemed normal. I looked down and my eyes caught a book on the floor. I picked it up: Edgar Allan Poe's The Raven And Other Poems.

I opened it and saw a red mark next to "The Devil in the Bell Tower."

I enjoy most of Poe's poems, but that is not one of my favorites.

A noise again.

"What's that?!" My heart skipped a beat.

This time it came from the bathroom. I put the book down and went to look -- the water was running freely in the sink.

I turned it off.

'Christ! That's what's wrong with this place' I thought. 'It has a mind of its own. Things turn on and off on their own. Next time the oven will be warm and ready for me to bake a casserole!' I laughed nervously. 'C'mon Charlie, two simple incidents, I am sure there is an explanation. The wind? Well, I don't know... Where was I? Oh, the book.'

I went back to my desk looking for the book. It wasn't there. I looked around and found it back on the shelf, where it belonged. Did I place it there? I wasn't sure. I was getting more and more confused; new apartment, new places for everything. I decided to forget all about it and get out to the beach.

 

The next few days went by without much concern. I remembered where I had put things, and every object remained in its place. Everything was fine -- until one night.

I went to bed as usual, giving little thought to things that go thump. I closed my eyes and fell asleep. But not for long. I was jolted awake by an intense pain in my right foot. I tried to move it, but couldn't, something was pressing my ankle, holding it in position. I sat on the bed and tried to get loose -- impossible! I struggled until I finally managed to jump out of bed. I stood next to it, paralyzed by fear. I felt a breeze stroking my face, as if somebody had just passed close by. I wanted to get out of there! I looked into the living room. I saw a shadow moving quickly toward the kitchen. I tried the lights, they didn't work! I somehow got enough strength to run to the desk to get a flashlight. I aimed the beam toward the kitchen and shouted:

"Who are you?! Come out of there! I know you are in there!"

Silence. The beam of light went past the kitchen entrance but I couldn't see anyone.

I tried to get near the entrance door, edging closer and closer. I reached for the door knob. Suddenly, the noise of pans crashing against each other came from the kitchen. I struggled with the door and opened it as quickly as I could just as my flash light went off. For a split second I saw the shiny blade of a butcher's knife rapidly moving toward me. I felt a sharp pain in my stomach. A mute scream came out of my throat and I felt myself falling.

 

I awoke the next morning in my bed. I touched my head. I was in a daze. Slowly, I remembered the happenings of the night before. I reached for my stomach expecting to find a painful wound. Nothing! I jumped out of bed and stood there for a few minutes. I managed to walk into the living room. Everything was in order, except for the flashlight. It was lying on the floor, by the entrance door, its glass, broken. I picked it up.

'It must have been a nightmare,' I thought. 'I must have walked during the night, although I don't ever remember doing that before! How did I get back to bed?'

I sat down in the living room holding the flash light in one hand, and my head with the other. I couldn't think. I was confused and felt weak. I called work and asked for the day off. I thought about calling the landlord too.

"What for?" I asked myself. It had been just a nightmare. He might think I was crazy. Yet, it wasn't the events of that night alone. It was also the pounding noises a few nights before. I had not quite believed his explanation. And the water in the bathroom?... I didn't know what to think anymore. I didn't feel like thinking at all. I wanted to go back to bed, to rest. No! I decided to go out instead -- to the beach and relax.

 

I ate a sandwich from the concession stand by the beach. It was a picnic for one on a wonderful, sunny Friday. I read the paper, I lay down and sunbathed until the shadows of the buildings behind me reached the shore.

I didn't feel like going back to the apartment and thought about calling a friend to spend the night. I thought it over. A silly idea. It had only been a nightmare. A light dinner seemed like a reasonable solution. I had a salad and went to a nearby bar for a drink. I timed my evening so I would reach home just in time to go to bed.

Easier said than done. I tossed and turned until I decided to get up. I felt uneasy and turned all the lights on in the living and dining rooms. I walked toward the window and stared at the view. The Lake was dark under a sky full of stars. The cars below seemed like traveling lights, moving rapidly without making any sound. The buildings, at the right end of the beach, looked like Christmas trees full of little, twinkling white lights. The view was clear and magnificent. My eyes caught the reflection of the living room in the window glass and I saw the shadow again! I turned around. There it was, hiding in the darkness of the kitchen, a white, human-like figure.

"Who are you?!" I managed to shout. "What do you want?!"

No answer, no movement.

"Why are you bothering me? What do you want?!"

"I didn't want to scare you."

I froze. It was a deep male voice. I heard it, yet I couldn't believe it.

The figure came closer.

"Don't be afraid. I wouldn't harm you," he said.

"What do you want?"

"I need you. I've been waiting for you for a long time."

"Me? What do you want from me?"

"I want you." The figure said as he moved swiftly out of the shadows and approached me slowly and calmly floating in the air.

"Don't come any closer!" I shouted. "Stay there!"

"I won't harm you. I'm your friend."

"Who are you? What are you? I don't know you."

"You will."

"Please, stay back." I pleaded.

"Charlie. Don't be afraid. I'm your friend."

"How do you know my name?"

"I know many things about you."

"About me?"

"I know you."

"Who are you? Please, tell me."

"I am not. I was."

"What?!"

"I lived in this apartment three years ago."

"Here?!"

"Yes. I was the victim of my lover's jealousy."

"What?... Who?!..."

"My lover. He thought I was having an affair with another man."

"Another guy?!"

"Yes..."

"Then you... are..."

"Gay? Yes, as gay as you are."

"I've never... I mean... I don't understand."

"I know it is hard to comprehend. I think you'll understand better if you see the real me."

I saw the transformation, from a blurred shadow to the figure of a man, a young man about my age wearing a white robe.

"You are real, not a shadow!"

"I am neither. I am a soul. This, what you see now, is what I used to be when I was alive."

"I... I think I need a drink."

"Go ahead. I told you we were going to be friends."

"It's you who's been scaring me all this time, haven't you?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Habit."

"Habit?!"

"Yes. Can I have a drink too?"

"Eh?... Oh, yes... A drink?! Do you... spirits... drink?"

"Not necessarily. But I want to be your friend. Remember? And I want you to feel I'm more like you."

"Yes, I guess... What do you... drink?"

"What ever you are having."

"Gin and tonic."

"That's fine."

He sat down on the couch while I... I got more confused. And automatically I went to get him a drink.

"I can't get over it," I said.

"Over what?"

"You!"

"Nothing wrong with me."

"Oh. No, nothing wrong. Just a..."

"I may be dead but I still am."

"Habit?" I interrupted. My mind was still full of questions about the nights of terror I had spent in this apartment.

"Yes, habit," he replied.

"What do you mean?" I handed him the glass.

"Thanks. I've been waiting for you, I told you. And I didn't want anyone else to rent this apartment."

"Why me?"

"You're gay... and single."

I smiled. "But I... I still don't get it." I sat at the other end of the couch -- on the edge.

"I am not allowed to talk about this other side of life. I am alive, that's obvious, or my soul is. Anyway, I can't tell you about that, except that I have been asked to come back to Earth and find you."

"Me?!"

"Yes. You're in trouble, my friend."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"How?"

"I'm telling you. You better settle down and find yourself a purpose in life."

"What?!... What are you talking about? I have my job, and I..."

"That's not all. I know you have a good job at the Art Institute; but, what else do you have? A car, a nice haunted apartment. What about friends? A lover? Don't you have any emotions, any passions, any ideals?"

"Wait a minute, wait a minute." I jumped to my feet. "I am perfectly happy the way I am. I am perfectly content with my life. What do you mean: Do I have any emotions? Any passions?..."

"Well. Do you?" he interrupted me.

"I enjoy my work..."

"You make money!"

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, except that THAT is the only thing you do."

"I... I never cared much about a boyfriend. I can do fine on my own. As far as friends are concerned... they come and go. I am happy living by myself... Why do I have to have a lover?"

"Not necessarily; but a friend at least. Be nice to people."

"I am nice to people!"

"Yes, you don't mean harm to anyone. But, why are you so afraid of a closer relationship?..."

"I'm not afraid of anything but you! You scared the hell out of me! Didn't you realized it?!"

"Yes. I am sorry about that. I told you, it was out of habit."

"You haven't quite explained THAT to me!"

"I was going to, but you keep asking questions..."

"Okay! I'll be quiet... Go on."

"I was told to find you..."

"Why me...?"

"Ahem."

"Sorry."

"I was told to find you and help you. Well, not precisely you, but someone, anyone..."

"I'm not just anyone!"

"Charlie!"

"Sorry."

"I was told to find someone. I was free to chose the one I wanted and wherever I wanted. So, I decided to come back here to my last apartment, and wait for the right person to show up. That's why this place is renting at such low price. It's haunted. I didn't want anybody to live here until the right person came along: You! The moment I saw you walking through that door, I knew it had to be you, Charlie. You are so clear, so transparent. I saw your loneliness, your emptiness. You were gay and single, and I decided you were the chosen one." He turned to see me face to face, he put his finger in front of his mouth, and motioned me to be quiet. Obviously, he had read my mind.

"Let me tell you about the other prospective tenants," he continued. "I think you'll like this part. There was the old lady with her three cats," he chuckled. "I shouldn't laugh, but I can't help it. She ran out that door dragging those cats behind her all the way until she got to the middle of the street. I'm just glad it was an early Sunday morning and nobody was driving by. Another tenant, a lawyer, almost sued Mr. Papalovinshky to have the building torn down; the judge, a skeptic, ordered him to see a psychiatrist and dismissed the case. Another one swore he saw me lying in his bed. His doctor told him he had gay tendencies and that he was sexually repressed." He laughed again. "I have three years full of anecdotes!"

"If you had already made your choice, why did you have to scare me, too?"

"I told you -- habit. I couldn't help it. I had to let you know I was here."

"You could have let me know without threats, without that ungodly kitchen knife."

"Ha, ha! I got carried away. Eh?"

"Carried away?! I almost had a heart attack!"

"It was your fault anyway. I didn't threaten you. I didn't even have a knife."

"Oh no? Then, what was that blade I saw coming at me outside the entrance door?"

"You saw a knife, alright, but I didn't have one. You saw it in your mind. At that moment I was still in the kitchen."

"What?!"

"I was in the kitchen making noises with the pots and pans. Remember? Then I saw you opening the front door and fainting. I didn't have any knife."

"It was my imagination. Huh?"

"Yes. I got carried away and you made it worse."

"How did I get back to bed?"

"I pulled you back inside and closed the door. I wasn't going to leave you out there on the floor. So, I put you in bed and covered you up."

"You're weird." I smiled. "A gay ghost?"

"I've never heard of a ghost who wasn't weird. And as far as being gay, well... you bet I am!... and that's to your advantage."

"To my advantage? How?"

"I'll help you find the right person for you."

"Here we go again. I don't want anyone!"

"Yes you will."

I stared into my empty glass and thought: 'I need another drink.'

"Me too."

"What?"

"Me too. I would like another drink," he insisted.

"How did you know...?"

"I can hear your thoughts."

"I'm not safe anywhere, am I?"

"You're safe. Don't worry." He handed me his empty glass. "This time make it straight whiskey. How can you drink gin and tonic?" he winced.

"Picky too. Eh?... I don't know what to do about you."

"There is nothing you can do about me."

"I was afraid of that."

"You are stuck with me."

"I demand a recall."

"No such policy."

"What if I want some privacy?" I said as I thought about the possibilities around my new neighborhood.

"I'll be discreet."

"Yeah. You'll go to the kitchen and peek through the bathroom wall, won't you?"

"No! Believe me, I'll go away."

"Where?"

"I know where. Don't be nosy."

"Are you going to follow me day and night, like a shadow?"

"You're stuck with me."

"You can read my thoughts; but I can't read yours." I handed him the drink.

"Thanks. You will. And you will continue to see me, too; but you will be the only one, no one else."

"Lucky me," I whispered.

"You ARE lucky... Don't worry, it'll be easier than you think. You will continue your normal life except that there will be an extra person in your daily routines, me, whom you will be able to see and talk to, but only you. And you won't have to open your mouth for me to hear you, all you have to do is think. You'll see. I'll be helpful."

"How helpful?"

"I'll tell you when it is a good day to go cruising and when it's not a favorable day to meet people. I'll tell you who is interested in you and who's not. I'll tell you..."

"Wait, wait...!" I stopped to think.

"No, I am not allowed to tell you the winning numbers in the lottery."

"I forgot. I'm not safe anywhere, am I?"

"I told you. Your thoughts go to money and business first, and then to love and friends. You are in trouble."

"I'm practical."

"You're a fool."

"I don't care!"

"Charlie, Charlie," he shook his head. "You better learn to trust me. You still have time."

"I'll think about it."

"That's good. At least I'll have a chance to work with you..."

"I'll think about it."

"Okay! You stubborn, pea-size brained...!"

"Hard-headed, yes, and sleepy."

"...Oh, yes. It's getting late, isn't it? Time still does go by you mortals, doesn't it? I forgot. I do most of my business at night, and..."

"Tell me about it."

"...You have to get some rest, I know."

"Yes I do. And I hope I can really get some rest from now on!"

"You will. I promise I won't bother you. Besides I have to... I have to be gone for a while."

"Where are you going?"

"Now that we've gotten acquainted, I'll have to give a report."

"To whom?!"

Looking toward the ceiling he pointed his thumb up and said, "You know... "

I looked toward the ceiling too, "Nobody lives up there."

He gave me the evil look, "You know what I mean, smart ass... It doesn't really matter. I can't tell you anything anyway. You'll learn about these things some day. We all do."

"Will you be here tomorrow?"

"You can bet your BVDs on that."

I smiled. "How will I know you are here?"

"Oh, you'll know."

"I hope you won't start that racket in the kitchen with the pots and pans again, will you?"

He laughed. "Don't worry. I have other more important things for you in mind."

"I was afraid of that."

"And, please keep in mind, if you need me before morning, or at any other time for that matter, all you'd need to do is call my name. If I'm away I'll be here in a split second. From now on, my first and most important task is to be of assistance to you, even if I am reporting to... well... to someone. Get some rest. You don't want to look like a wreck tomorrow. It's going to be an important day for you."

"What do you mean...?"

"It's late. Go to bed. I'll see you in the morning."

"I'll see... you, then... in the morning." I said as I climbed back into the coziness of my bed.

"Have a good sleep," he cooed. "No pots and pans. I promise."

"Thanks... Wait!..."

"Paul... It's Paul Telso."

"Uh?... Oh, you can... Yes... Good night, Paul."

I still had a number of questions unanswered, but I was too tired. And I had the feeling tomorrow would be a full day just getting to know my new friend, Paul, The Gay Ghost.