Ancestral

Journal

The house was still. No one was stirring. Emma led me down the stairs and stopped in front of the study door. When I reached her she turned and passed through it. I wasn't sure what to do. I couldn't just go in, Helmut was most likely sleeping in there and it was a private space at the moment. I couldn't knock, I hadn't noticed what time it was when I got up, but it was clearly the time when everyone was asleep.

As I stood there pondering what to do next, the door suddenly opened and Helmut came striding through. Again, he was wearing nothing but a jock strap and he stopped short, startled to see me there. “What the...Oh, they wake you up too?” I realized it must have been four and he was heading for a bit of early morning fun with the boys in the basement.

“Kind of,” I lied, “I was remembering a book on one of the shelves in there, do you mind if I look for it?”

He stepped to one side and motioned for me to enter. “Knock yourself out,” He said. But before I could move he added with a grin, “The basement's more fun. I wouldn't mind fucking a real ass for a change.” He reached over and grabbed one ass cheek, squeezing it hard. “No one would have to know.”

I removed his hand from my body and stepped away from him. “No thanks,” I condescended, “Some of us don't have to rely on ghosts to get our rocks off.”

He chuckled, “Mmm, that red head's finally found his balls? Let me know when you're going at it again, I'll come give you some pointers .“ He turned and walked toward the kitchen,, reaching behind himself and jiggling his ass cheeks at me as he walked away, laughing softly.”

I watched him walk away, as was his intent, and thought, “What an asshole. He might be sexy as hell, but I would never let him get too close to me.” as he disappeared into the dining room, I turned my attention to the study. Emma was standing next to the fireplace waiting for me. I had not been in this room more than a few times since my arrival, and I had never paid much mind to the fireplace. I just considered it a quaint and decorative relic of a time before central heating. It was simple in design, a bit of decorative molding here and there, but no carved figures or fancy woodwork. On either side of it there were built in cupboards, as tall as the room, but narrow, only about twelve inches wide. A series of four doors rose from floor to ceiling offering hidden storage. As I considered this one of the doors popped open on its own and Emma disappeared.

I approached the door, which was at eye level, and opened it all the way. The cupboard was fairly empty, only a few pamphlets, probably owner's manuals, sat on the lowest shelf, otherwise it was bare. The fireplace and cupboards had been painted a creamy off white and there were many layers of paint on them, but the interior or the cabinet was still simply finished with a single coat of very old varnish, which had darkened with time. The room was dark and it was hard to see, so I turned on a small light. The interior of the cabinet still appeared featureless. It was made of wide boards and I could make nothing out that was out of the ordinary.

As I ran my hands along the boards I found a smooth spot on one side near the top. It seemed to be a place that had been touched more than the rest. I ran my fingers along it to see if I could notice anything else. Applying just a little more pressure than I had before, the top of the panel pushed in, causing the board to pivot on an unseen hinge and swing out at the bottom. Behind the board was a small hidden compartment, only a few inches deep but big enough to be interesting. I reached in and felt a book and a bundle of papers. Pulling them out, I sat by the lamp to look at the hidden treasure I had just discovered.

The papers were a bundle of letters addressed to Captain Foster. They were well worn and tied with a black ribbon. A lock of curly black hair, tied with a red ribbon, rested on top of the letters. The book appeared to be a kind of journal. The inside cover was inscribed with the name Josiah B. Foster Esq. The first entries dated back to the 1830's and the last entry was dated 1892, less than a year before his death. I couldn't believe what I was holding. Why weren't these in the museum? They were the kinds of primary documents historians would kill for. I gently leafed through the journal, reading brief entries from various places. In some places the entries were separated by months, but in others they happened on consecutive days. He seemed to have no routine for entering things, rather would just write when something interesting happened. I decided to start from the beginning. He was a fairly young man when he began writing, in his late twenties, it seemed. I would have to look up his birth date to confirm this, but by the time he began he was already a seasoned sailor, working long trans-Atlantic voyages.

Before I could get very far Helmut returned, sweating, with his softening dick hanging out of his jock strap, obviously satiated. He paid no attention to me, but flung himself on the bed, still enjoying the afterglow of his orgasm. A single last drop of cum oozed out of his dick and he moaned, “You should have joined me. It was great.”

I laughed. “Obviously.”

Lifting his head to look at me he added, “Why don't you come over here and clean me up? Give me a couple of minutes and a nice warm mouth and I'll be ready to go again. What do you say?”

His grin was seductive, and he was already beginning to get hard again just thinking about it. There was a time when I wouldn't have hesitated, even knowing what an ass he was. I would have been between his sweaty thighs worshiping that cock in an instant. But today, I wasn't that person. I walked over to him and grabbed his dick, saying, “You want me to suck this?” I stroked it and felt it getting harder in my hand. Squeezing it I continued, “Feels like you like this.” He rolled his head back to his pillow and moaned. I had him where I wanted him. I leaned over and whispered, “I think I'll go play with that red head's new found balls instead. He's no such a jerk.” With that I released his dick and gave his balls a quick tug. He sat up in surprise. I grabbed the journal and letters and let myself out, chuckling. As I crossed the living room I could hear him roaring with laughter in the study.

Ben stirred as I climbed into bed beside him. “Where have you been?” he asked groggily.

“Nowhere,” I replied, “I'll tell you in the morning.” I snuggled up next to him, draping one leg over his thigh so I could press my dick against his hip, and true to my word, I reached down and cupped his furry red balls in my hand. He turned his head and kissed me before falling asleep again.

The evening had been too eventful and I knew I wasn't going back to sleep. I was too excited about finding the journal and too curious about what the letters might contain. I laid there and held him as he slept, knowing these things would still be there in the morning, but after about an hour my curiosity got the better of me and I got up and headed for the shower. I was still oily from the massage, and I could smell the stale cum on my legs. Maybe that was why Helmut thought I was looking for sex last night. I certainly smelled like it.

I went back to my room to read what I could before breakfast. About seven a soft knock interrupted me. Ben stuck his head in and said, “You're up early, is everything ok?”

“Better than ok,” I said and invited him in to hear about my discovery. His eyes got big as I told him about Emma, and he rolled his eyes when I told him about Helmut.

“That bastard!” he cursed when I finished. “He better...”

I laughed, “you got nothing to worry about.” I kissed him for reassurance and he calmed down.

“Still,” he fumed, “I don't think it's a good idea to be following Emma around, especially after last night.”

“I wasn't under her influence or anything. I was being careful, and I certainly wouldn't have followed her into the basement.”

“Well...” he relented, and then headed off for his own shower.

He had another busy day at school, and headed off immediately after eating, pausing only to give Helmut a very dirty look.

Helmut just glanced at me and chuckled, “I take it you told him what a 'jerk” I was last night.”

Mr. P. looked at me quizzically but said nothing. Once breakfast was over I pulled him aside and showed him the things I had discovered in the night. He was dumbfounded. “Those must have been there ever since he died. My god!”

“They belong to you, of course, as the owner of the house,” I told him. “But I would strongly recommend you donate them to the museum for safe keeping. Eventually, anyways, I'm sure you want some time to look over them yourself. I hope you don't mind that I have been looking through them.”

“Of course not.” He yelled for Andi who was in the living room listening to the twins tell her about their last rehearsal. “I would be happy if you would continue to read them. I'm afraid I would get all muddled with names and dates, and various details.” Andi entered at that point and Mr. P. turned to her, “Look what Joey found last night, Captain Foster's journal and some of his letters, love letters by the look of them.”

She picked up the journal and opened the cover. Upon seeing the inscription her eyes grew wide and she asked, “Where were they? How did you find them?

I told them about the cabinet in the study and about following Emma in the wee hours. I ended by saying, “I wasn't sure if I should have trusted her after last night, but I'm glad I did.”

“Oh,” assured Andi, “You can trust Emma, She wasn't angry with you last night. I think she was trying to protect you.”

“Protect us? From what? How can a ghost protect us from an earthquake?”

“That was no earthquake,” she said, turning to Mr. P. “Did you feel anything?”

He looked at her in bewilderment. “When? What are you talking about?”

Turning to me she continued, “I think only you and I felt it. You felt the vibration and I felt the surge of power.”

I was confused. “I don't understand.”

She looked at me intently. “I believe as you approached the wall the fourth spirit, the guardian, was trying to attack you. The vibrations you felt were caused by Emma as she drove that spirit back. She wasn't angry at you, she was angry at the the guardian for attacking you.”

Mr. P. and I sat in stunned silence. “But why would this spirit attack me? What had I done?”

“You were getting too close,” she said.” In fact you have been getting too close ever since you first met the boys in the basement. That's when I started to sense a dark presence in the cellar, but last night was the first time I felt she was exerting herself to actively protect whatever it is she's hiding. That's why I warned you to stay out of the basement. She is a violent spirit, and very strong.”

“But, if you're right, Emma is stronger. Right?” I wanted to hope that we had a powerful ally, but I had no way of knowing.

“Perhaps. Only time will tell.” She set the journal down and picked up the bundle of letters. “In the meantime, why don't you work on deciphering the journal, while we take a crack at these letters.” Looking at Mr. P, she added, “What do you say?”

He nodded, “I could use a little romance right about now.”

Just then Helmut walked in, and upon hearing her say this he grabbed his crotch and said. “I got some romance for you, right here .” At least he was wearing clothes this time, but he took pleasure in waving his bulge in all our faces.

Mr. P. wasn't phased but insisted, “I don't know what you were up to last night, but don't you go being a jerk to my tenants if you want to stay in that study for even one more night!”

He smirked and kissed his ex on the top of his head. “Yes dear, whatever you say.”