Simon let himself be dragged by Tristan, sulking like an angry child the entire way to the main house. The Harker sisters were quickly summoned as we arrived in the main lobby, and a nervous debate then ensued in which every one of us had to give repeated testimonies of what we had witnessed in Simon’s living room.
Tristan even went back to the cabin with Celeste and Luna to try to track down the poltergeist.
He had firmly requested that I stay at the main house with Arice, for my safety, and that I should wait there for him to return. I had to bite down the urge to start a fight right then and there. That seemed an awful lot like an order to me. I didn’t like being bossed around like that by anyone, husband or not. He had no right to tell me what to do.
I also didn’t like the idea of staying behind like a helpless little girl. Something in the back of my head gnawed at me, protesting in indignant offense at the thought. I knew, deep down, that I was more than capable of defending myself, and even defending Tristan if necessary. Why couldn’t I go with them? What if something happened to him? Who was going to come to his rescue then?
But he was gone before I could even have a say in the matter, leaving me behind, silently seething.
Arice saw how dejected I was and tried to distract me by making small talk.
“So, yeah, things have been pretty hectic around here, huh?”
I shrugged and kept on sulking in silence. How dared Tristan leave me behind with the flowery lady while he went on a rocking search party with the tough girls?
Arice sucked at her teeth and tried again. “And with Craig still out of service, I had to do the camp rounds all by myself, can you believe it? He’s still not feeling well after his blackout, so I had to do it for him. You seem to be recovering pretty quickly, though. Well, men always make such a fuss when they are sick, right?”
She glanced at me but I continued, unmoved, with my sulk. “Anyway, like I was saying, I had to do the rounds and try to find some clue for this craziness here. Funnily enough, I did find wolf tracks near by the lake, you know?”
That snapped me out of my sulking, fast. “You did?”
“Yeah!” she exclaimed, happy that she’d finally got me out of my funk. “I’m no expert, but I was a member of the Girl Scouts when I was a teen, and we had to learn to recognize all kinds of animal tracks. Wolf was actually number one on the list, so I remembered it pretty well. It was definitely a wolf paw print there. It was bigger than is typical, but it could have been a big wolf. That’s why we’re ordering everyone to stay indoors now.”
“But Tristan, Celeste and Luna are out there right now!”
“It’s okay, calm down. Luna and Celeste can deal with any wildlife, trust me. They are completely safe and they went prepared. You don’t need to worry.”
“What is going on in this place, Arice? I’m losing chunks of my memory and nobody knows why. You are finding wolf paw prints all over the place, and now there’s a frigging poltergeist attacking?”
“Well, at least you don’t have to bring any more ghosts back to life, fight Vigil or Death, or wrestle with evil intergalactic sneaky creatures and their weird magic ball powers . . .”
“What?”
“Oh, you still don’t remember those things? Never mind, then . . .”
“I swear, you lot are all insane . . .” I muttered under my breath.
Tristan, Celeste and Luna soon returned empty-handed and as clueless as they had left. They hadn’t found anything lingering in the cabin that could serve as evidence of any occult activity. Tristan said there was nothing there any more, only the remains of a few objects scattered all over the floor.
Simon and his room-mates were skeptical and refused to return to their cabin, preferring to stay in vacant rooms at the main house for the time being.
After things had been thoroughly discussed and nothing was either concluded or resolved, Tristan and I were finally excused for the night. I was still fuming at being excluded from their special search party as we walked back up the trail to our cabin.
Only when we were halfway there did I remember Arice’s news about real wolf paw prints in the camp. I realized we didn’t have the Harkers’ protection now, and we should be worried about walking up the trail in the middle of the night by ourselves.
“Hmm, I think I should’ve told you this sooner, but there is some real evidence now of a wolf roaming around these parts . . .” I said, looking cautiously at the dark forest surrounding us.
“Yeah, I know. Celeste told me,” he said, undisturbed, pointing the flashlight onward to illuminate the path for us. “She asked me if I’d like us to stay in the main house for the night, but I want to get back to our cabin. I need to tell the news to the boys. Don’t worry, I’ve got a flare and some pepper spray with me. I don’t think we’ll need them, though. Animals usually get spooked around me and tend to stay away.”
“Why do animals get spooked around you?”
He glanced quickly at me, unsure if he should explain this right now.
“Is it because you’re a ghost?” I risked.
“I’m not a ghost. Not any more.” His tone was clipped. The topic seemed to bother him somehow.
“But that was why you weren’t scared at Simon’s cabin, wasn’t it?”
Since we’d walked out of Simon’s cabin, he had looked like the possibility of new ghost attacks didn’t worry him in the least.
“The day I’m scared of ghosts is the day when pigs fly, Joe.” Then he bit the inside of his cheek, looking hesitant. “But to be honest, I don’t even know if ‘that’ was really a ghost . . .”
“What do you mean?”
“It just didn’t feel like it, you know?” he said, as we reached our cabin and I could finally breathe in relief. “See? We’re here, safe and sound.” He unlocked and opened the door. “There’s something more to this, Joe. I don’t know what, but . . . all I know is that it didn’t feel like a ghost to me.”
“And what did it feel like, then? Do you have a guess as to what it could be?”
“That’s the thing . . . I’ve been thinking hard about everything that has happened to you since we arrived at this camp . . .” He tossed the keys on to the counter as he entered the kitchen. “I mean, first it’s the wolf attack that turns out to be from a real wolf. Then it’s a swamp creature nobody saw but you, trying to drown you, then your sudden mysterious amnesia, and now, out of the blue, some angry poltergeists? There’s no connection between any of it: nothing adds up!”
I laughed nervously but stopped when I saw how serious he looked. “I’m sorry, but when you list everything that’s happened all in a roll, it all sounds so unreal.”
He sighed, shaking his head. “I wish you had your memories back already . . . this would be so much easier . . .” he murmured to himself. “Look, Joe, I know this is all a bit too much to take in, but trust me on this. I mean, you know now that you can create fire out of your bare hands. Take a leap of faith here and say you believe me about all of the rest, yeah?”
I gave a small nod and sat on the kitchen stool while he sat the other side of the counter, facing me. “So, what you need to know first is that magic is very present in your life, and has been for most of the past four years, okay?” he began explaining. “I know it sounds crazy and not real, but indulge me for a sec. Say you believe magic and supernatural things are real,” he proposed, and when I nodded again, he continued.
“Good. Then hear me out. At first I thought it was something to do with that Alicia girl, the one who came by this afternoon to check on you. Luna told me she was in your group that night by the lake: she could have lagged behind and made some noises to scare you guys. I mean, everybody said you only heard growls, but none of you actually saw anything, right? Then, the lake creature happened, and that one was definitely real – you have finger-mark bruises on your ankle to prove it. But there was no way Alicia could have done that, so I thought, maybe it’s Simon, then. He was with you when that lake creature showed
up.” He gesticulated while explaining his line of thought. “But that doesn’t make sense, either, because he was attacked too, right? That thing was after him! Why would he conjure up some water creature that could end up killing him, too? So I reckon it wasn’t him. He wasn’t anywhere near when you lost your memory . . . but then again, Alicia was. She was the one who found you unconscious.
“But then there’s Craig. Luna mentioned you guys bumped into Craig on the way to the lake that night, but he was also attacked at the main house. Nothing adds up and no one person fits the part on all occasions. And now there’s this ghost that doesn’t feel like a real ghost to me, showing up out of the blue. I’m wracking my brains, trying to think of an explanation, but I can’t make sense of anything!” he said, passing a hand through his hair.
“I’m not smart as you are, Joey. If you had your memories back, you’d be solving this mystery in no time. Usually, it’s you who solves all the problems, you know. You’re stubborn as hell, and you never quit, even if it’s bloody dangerous and even if I try to stop you: you never give up and you always fix things in the end. I wish I had you back to normal. You’d crack this one in a second . . .”
“Really? I do all those things?” I asked, surprised.
“Yeah.” He smiled proudly. “You’re incredible.”
“You were very brave back at the cabin, you know,” I said, shyly. “I was really impressed; you didn’t seem scared at all!”
“Yeah, well, I’ve learned from the best,” he told me, with a sideways smile.
I glanced down and fumbled with the hem of my tank-top, blushing hard. “I can’t believe I don’t remember any of this stuff. It’s so frustrating!” I said, aggravated. “Ghosts, magic, fire . . . everything sounds so crazy, but . . . at the same time, it doesn’t. And the worse thing is that I know I should be freaking out about these crazy things, but something tells me it’s all very normal – and then I just accept it, just like that. And that’s freaking me out even more! Plus, I keep remembering all these silly, unimportant things, yet all the serious life-changing memories are still a blank. Why? Why do I remember the sound of your voice, and your smell, but I can’t remember who you are? Why? It’s ridiculous.” I tugged at my hair, as if I could dislodge memories by yanking them out by force.
“So, let me get this straight,” he said. He was clearly trying to stop himself laughing, but his lips twitched and gave him away. “You’re freaking out that you’re not freaking out when you know you should be freaking out.”
“Yes! That’s exactly it! How come you always know exactly what I’m thinking and how I’m feeling? It’s so spooky!” I exclaimed.
“Perks of being your husband, buttercup,” he stated, looking smug, and leaned over the counter, tugging a lock of hair under my ear. “Don’t worry, Joey. You’ll get your memories back. But for now we shall try to make the best of things, all right?”
“Okay,” I mumbled, half-heartedly.
“Are you hungry? I can make us some sandwiches . . . or do you want a real meal for dinner? I can cook something, if you want, but it will take longer to be ready.” He stood up.
“You know how to cook?”
“Let’s just say that if I didn’t, we’d both have starved to death by now. So, what’s it gonna be?”
“A sandwich would be great, please. Thank you.”
“Swell! Coming right up, buttercup.” He gave me a quick wink and went to prepare what was about to become the best ham sandwich I’d ever eaten in my whole life.
Chapter Nineteen
Dinner for Two
“SO, TELL ME, Tristan, how’s life been for us over the past four or so years?” I asked, as he placed two plates with two delicious-looking sandwiches on the counter between us. I was dying to find out more about our life together, and this was the perfect time to ask, while we dived into our late-night dinner snack.
He gave me a quizzical look for a moment before sitting back down in his seat opposite me, leaning his elbows on the counter and crossing his fingers under his chin.
“It’s been a good life so far,” he told me. “Right now, we’re having a lot of fun finding things for our apartment. We shared a house with the rest of the guys for about three years, but we decided it was time to move into our own place after we got married a month ago. Now we are picking out furniture and décor for the apartment. You are very excited about that.”
“Oh, I am?” It didn’t sound like me at all, to be honest. I’d always hated shopping for anything. Furniture shopping must be boring as hell.
He chuckled at the face I was pulling. “Yes, you are. You hate shopping, but you’re really excited about decorating our home. You choose the most random, weird things, but when we put them all in the room, it all comes together, somehow. It’s like having your place filled with bits and pieces of memories and things we both love. It’s a shame we’re not there now. I’m sure it would help spark some memories. Our home is warm and cozy, like a good home should be.”
“When you say it like that, it sounds kind of fun,” I mused, grabbing my sandwich and taking a bite. “Oh, my God!” I moaned in surprise after taking the first bite.
“Is it good?” he asked, smiling, then taking a bite of his own.
“Good? This is amazing! How can you make a lame ham sandwich taste as incredible as this?”
His grin widened. He looked pleased that I was enjoying the meal. “It’s an old recipe my mom taught me. The key is in the condiments. It’s actually your favorite; that’s why I made it now for you.”
“No wonder it’s my favorite. This thing is off the charts! You should be a professional ham-sandwich chef,” I mumbled, with a mouth full of food.
“Nah. I’m quite happy with my current profession.”
I frowned, trying to grasp at any recollection of the band we were supposed to have been in for more or less the last four years of my life.
He paused, waiting to see if my memory sparked at that tidbit of information. “I’m sorry, I can’t remember much about the band at all. Man, this amnesia sucks, big time!”
“You remembered the songs, though. That’s a good thing. The rest will come back to you in time, don’t worry.” He resumed munching on his sandwich, his expression relaxed. “It’s returning slowly, but you’re getting there.”
“How do you manage to be so calm about it?”
He gave a small shrug. “Would it help if I was freaking out?”
“No, but it’s normal to react that way, I guess.”
“‘Normal’ has never been very present in our lives, sweetheart. I don’t think it’s wise to start now.”
“You don’t need to tell me. I’m beginning to realize my life revolves around all kinds of weird . . .”
“Weird can be a good thing,” he said. “That’s what you always used to say when you were trying to cheer me up. I’m all kinds of weird, too. But you love me anyway.” He gave me a small, shy smile.
“Yeah, about that . . . I’m trying to figure out a gentle way to ask you this, but I’ll just go ahead and ask. I know this sounds completely insane, but I remembered a scene with you. There were fireworks in the sky and you . . . my hand passed right through you! I wasn’t imagining that, was I? That really happened, right? You are a ghost?”
“Yes, I was a ghost.” He put the sandwich slowly back on his plate and raised his head to look at me. “But I’m not one any more. Look, it’s—”
“You’re going to say it’s a long story and kind of complicated, aren’t you?”
“Please, don’t freak out. I know it all sounds crazy . . .”
“Oh, we passed crazy a long time ago, buddy. This is beyond crazy. We’re light years past crazy here. I mean, I’m a real life matchstick, you’re an ex-ghost . . . it cannot get any weirder than this!”
“Oh, believe me, it can. And it has,” he said, amused. “But, hey, I’ve had years to get used to it. You’ve only had a day. It’s normal for you to be freaking out, right? You have to
trust me on this. We have a good life together, even with all the weird.”
I bit my lip, my brows furrowing in agitation. I wished I had my memories back already. These blank holes in my head were infuriating.
“Joey, look at me,” he said, and I looked up from my plate, startled by his tone. He put a hand gently over mine. “You will remember us. I promise you. Okay?”
I gave a small nod. “Okay.”
“Good. Can I have that okay again with a smile this time, please?” he asked. The smile was there before he could even finish the sentence. “That’s better,” he said, squeezing my hand. “So, what else do you wanna know? Hit me with your best shot.”
“Hmm, okay . . . What’s our favorite pastime?”
He stared at the ceiling, chewing silently for a while as he reached for an answer. “There are a lot of things . . . let me think. We watch a lot of movies. You like to show me the ones with special effects, which are awesome, by the way. I still can’t get over how realistic those things can get. And I make you watch the old classics that I like. It’s a lot of fun. We do the same thing with our favorite music, too.” A smile played on his lips as he thought about the memories, completely oblivious of me silently pining for him from the other side of the counter.
I was glad he hadn’t noticed how blatantly obvious it was that I was staring, because I couldn’t stop myself – even if I tried. He was mesmerizing; I could listen to him talk for ever.
“I like to cook for you, test new recipes, and then you give me grades for your favorites. That sandwich got a big score for me.” He shot me a wink and I chuckled shyly.
“But I think our favorite thing is to play our songs on stage together. You look the happiest and shine the brightest when you’re doing that . . .” he mused, his eyes focused intently on me.