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Old 01-21-2007, 04:52 PM
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Adelina Adelina is offline
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The Haunting of Twisted Oaks Inn (#10)

It wasn’t often that Hurley found himself at a loss for words. He generally considered himself confident and competent, with everything under control. Whenever his best-laid plans went awry, he still managed to come out on top most of the time, and often gained new insights to file in his memory for future reference. On occasion, though, some unfamiliar variable would come into play, such that even he was stumped.

Confrontations with the departed were definitely not in his repertoire.

Ivy’s description of the resident ghost had been very detailed. Hurley had no doubt that this was her guy. Though admittedly thrown for a loop, Hurley did not feel threatened by the spectre’s appearance. He sensed neither disdain nor ire. Still, he didn’t know what the protocol was for such an encounter and was unsure how to proceed.

Again, the ghost pointed. “That is mine,” he rasped.

Hurley looked down at the paddle in his hand. Eager though he was, the spirit had a point. Not wanting to overstep boundaries or be pushy, Hurley decided to take a diplomatic approach. “Yes, I suppose it is. It was in the attic. I was hoping I could borrow it from you.”

Hurley saw the ghost’s aloof expression become even more vacant as he considered the request. “I need it.”

“Forgive me for being nosy,” said Hurley, “but what for?”

Ivy.”

Hurley’s eyebrows shot up toward his hairline. “Is that so?” he inquired.

She is the caretaker of my house,” the spectre explained. “She must not forget.”

Hurley couldn’t help but smile. He leaned on the messy desk and looked directly at the spirit.

“Tell me more.”

*****************************

Ivy looked up at her home, eyes darting from one window to the next, looking for those telltale eyes to indicate someone awaiting her return. She saw nothing.

Brows furrowed, Ivy stared at the house as various thoughts and feelings churned inside her head. She couldn’t help feeling a hair of disappointment that the ghost was not looking for her. She knew how ridiculous this was; their last interaction was hardly uplifting. Frankly, she’d been scared out of her skull at the determined fire flashing in the spirit’s normally lifeless eyes. But she’d had time to think and had her plan of action all mapped out. She was ready for battle.

All that was left was to find her opponent. Feeling confident in her sense of purpose, she walked across the garden toward the front of the house, hopped up onto the porch, and breezed through the door.

“Hurley!”

Ivy tottered on her feet, startled to find Hurley standing just inside the door. He instinctively reached out to catch her, holding her in front of him. “Whoa! Sorry. Didn’t mean to spook you,” he said.

Ivy studied Hurley’s expression, looking for clues. She had a strong sense that some sort of mischief was brewing, but darned if she could figure out what it was. Hurley beckoned her to the office. “I have a surprise for you. Come in here.”

A quiet laugh escaped Ivy’s lips. He always had something up his sleeve, didn’t he? Hurley motioned her toward the door. Eyes rolling in exaggerated annoyance, Ivy skipped toward the office and pushed the door open. She was three steps beyond the threshold before she perceived a cold presence on the right side of the room. Suddenly frozen in her tracks, her eyes turned to the right, starting at the ghost in genuine disbelief.

Surprise, indeed!

Behind her, Ivy heard Hurley enter the room and close the door. He stepped around her and leaned casually against the desk with his arms folded across his chest, smirking in triumphant amusement.

Ivy’s mouth hung open as her gaze volleyed between the two young men. An alarm went off somewhere in her head, and she felt a strong urge to turn tail and run; yet she remained rooted to the floor, paralyzed by some kind of feeling that she could not identify. It wasn’t fear, exactly. Still, the odds were stacked against her. She turned to focus on Hurley. “What is going on here?”

Hurley’s smirk evolved into a knowing grin. “Were your ears ringing? We’ve been talking about you.”

*** [continued.....]
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