The Hathaway

Shadow

We got up and adjusted our clothes as we hurriedly climbed the remaining steps. “Great! Just what we need, Do you think it's one of the protesters looking to do some damage?” I asked.

“No.” He was calm but intent. “It was a ghost, I could feel him before I saw him.”

I stopped in my tracks. “A ghost? We haven't been bothered by one of those since he boys left. Was it one of them?”

We reached the landing and it was empty. “No, I would have recognized them. I have no idea who this was.” The door was safely locked and we stood in the main hall to listen once inside. Silence. We knew there were probably spirits here, after all, two years ago we had an encounter with Maggie in the basement. But this figure definitely wasn't Maggie either.

The building was still empty except for us, but that wouldn't last long. The first group of residents was scheduled to arrive in about a week, and the staff had already begun daily training sessions during business hours, but once the residents arrived there would always be two staff members on property at all times. Technically, Ben and I were not staff, we were just the landlords and board members. But I expected we would be pretty hands-on as the community grew.

We did a quick walk through just to make sure there were no intruders. While we were wandering through the maze of rooms that made up the lower level, I pulled out the remote control, which I had reclaimed when he dropped it on the steps, and sent him a quick buzz. He was at the other end of the building, but he let out a shriek that was clearly audible throughout. Maybe Miss M. was right and we did need to soundproof the third floor. “That wasn't funny!” he shouted, and I could hear him rushing toward me again. I headed for the nearest stairs, shooting off regular pulses at various levels of intensity as I went. Each time I hit the button he let out another yelp and breathed a couple of curses at me. I managed to stay ahead of him until I reached the apartment, and he finally tackled me as I made it to the couch. “I'll show you!” He sat on top of me again, and as I wrestled to break free he began to tickle me without mercy. I hated being tickled and he knew it, but I had provoked him.

We wrestled around until I was laughing so hard I couldn't breathe. He held me down as I caught my breath and threatened to tickle me again. “You want me to do some more? You do, don't you?”

Between gasps I managed to beg, “No, no, please stop.” As he continued his playful threats, I caught sight of the remote control on the coffee table and decided give it one more try. He leaned forward to kiss me and I slowly raised my arm to the table so he wouldn't notice. As he slipped his tongue into my waiting mouth I simultaneously pressed the button with one hand while holding his head in place with the other. He released a muffled scream into my mouth and struggled to break free, but I held him fast and continued to kiss him. I could feel the vibrations this time since he was laying on top of me, and I could also feel his dick getting harder as the vibrations continued.

He wasn't really fighting me at this point, but he managed to pull away enough to whisper, “You are really asking for it. You know that, right?”

I looked him in the eyes and reached around to tap the but plug and push it in deeper. “Of course I am. The study is waiting.”

“Yeah, well, I'm taking this thing out first. I've had enough surprises for one night,” He headed to the bathroom and I headed to the study to wait for him. I stopped in the bedroom on the way to pick up some lube, and found Ben standing in the study doorway when I arrived. I snuck up behind him, kissing him on the back of the neck as I wrapped my arms around his torso. He didn't respond, so I whispered, “I hope your dick is as stiff as the rest of you.”

When he didn't respond to that I worked my way around to the front of him and looked into his eyes. He was intensely focused on something in the room, and when I followed his gaze I could see why he wasn't moving. The shadow figure we had seen briefly on the porch was standing in the far corner of the room watching us. It had a vaguely human form although I couldn't make out any features or details. The edges of the figure were in constant motion, appearing to evaporate as they spread out, but it seemed to grow more dense and opaque moving inward from the edges. At the heart of the figure an iridescent glow seemed to dance within the shadow, like the last traces of smoke rising above a recently snuffed candle. In this glow, if I paid attention, I could catch glimpses of part of a face, but I could never see the whole face.

It had been a while since I had tried to communicate with a ghost, and then the spirit was anxious to tell me his story. I had no sense of who this was yet, or why he was showing himself to us. I realized that I could sense his gender, but that was all. It was like he was keeping a barrier up between us, trying to decide if he could trust us or not. I did my best to clear my mind and project friendliness to him. It must have worked, because he began to slowly move toward me. I stood my ground and remained open to his approach, but Ben had other ideas. He abruptly placed himself between me and the ghost while waving his arms and shouting “No! You can't have him, he's mine!”

The spirit disintegrated before our eyes, seeming to evaporate or retreat into dark corners of the room. We stood in silence for a moment and I asked, “Why did you do that? I was trying to communicate with him.”

“I know,” he responded, “But something wasn't right. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but he wasn't as harmless as he seemed.” He caressed my face and continued, “You can be too trusting sometimes, and I don't want to risk another vengeful spirit coming after you again.”

I kissed him. “I understand. It seems christening the study will just have to wait, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let any ghost stop us from fucking in our own bed. I'll get the salt.” This was a trick we had learned from Andi, a way of creating a protective barrier that kept questionable spirits at bay. When I got to the bedroom, Ben was waiting for me. He was on the bed, naked except for the flamboyant bow that Miss M. had used to decorate the gift she had given us. He had somehow managed to hide his considerable package beneath it, but the rest of him was on full display. He knew how much I enjoyed looking at his beefy frame and he knew how to tease me by running his hands across his furry pecs and belly. The green of the ribbon was the perfect shade to highlight the bright orange bush that peeked out and ran up to his belly button.

I stood in awe for a moment, finding it hard to believe that this beautiful, funny, and caring man wanted to share his life with me. He allowed me to remain hypnotized for a few moments before breaking the spell with a single word, “Salt?”

I reluctantly acknowledged his question and began to sprinkle the white powder in a broad circle around the bed. He continued rubbing his hands all over his torso as I did this and I could feel myself beginning to get hard. I finished the circle quickly and stripped even more quickly. Soon I was laying on top of him, lost in a long slow night of love-making. It was the best way to do it as far as I was concerned. We took turns sucking and fucking for an hour or so, then allowed ourselves to drift into a blissful sleep. A few hours later we woke up and went at it again for a while until we once again drifted off. Finally, we woke up early and finished each other off before taking a shower together and heading off to our respective jobs.

Ben actually was a lumberjack. He finished up his master's in forestry just a few months ago, and was working for one of the paper companies, helping them keep the forest healthy and profitable. They had an office two towns over, but he spent most of his time in the woods, inspecting various stands of trees. I worked at the Patterson, a local historical and maritime museum, as an educator and curator. I was a historian at heart, but since moving up here I found myself engaged in a bit of supernatural sleuthing, at least enough to generate one book and a number of inquiries from local folks who thought their houses might be haunted too.

So far I had resisted being drawn into such inquiries, but before she left for Europe, Heather had encouraged me to think about using the ghost stories that seemed to be so common in this seaside town as a framework for a new display, or even a second book. We did have the resources to do such investigations. I had discovered a previously unknown ability for communicating with spirits, and Ben had discovered he could sense their presence without seeing or hearing anything. Andi was also sensitive to spirits and had a background in the occult and mythology, while Heather made the perfect historical researcher, with a talent for finding and processing obscure information from a variety of sources.

Our visitor last night had brought this possibility back to the front of my mind and I mulled it over as I walked to the Patterson. The first order of business for the day was to field all the questions about the kerfuffle that had erupted at the opening yesterday. Predictably, the opening, which would have normally been tucked away someplace between articles on local gardening events and vintage recipes, had made the front page. Of course the coverage wasn't flattering and some of the reports sensationalized the Hathaway as a potentially disruptive presence. Most of the folks at the museum were quite supportive of our efforts, and considered the disruption a shameful display of prejudice and willful ignorance. Only a couple of my co-workers said nothing and kept their distance. While they thought they were being discrete, their silence spoke volumes.

I was particularly interested to learn that one local reporter had noted that only two of the protesters were locals, and the rest seemed to have been brought in from outside the town to make it look like their numbers were greater than they were. That helped me understand why we had never heard anyone raise concerns before. I decided I needed to talk with some of the town leaders and the police before any of our residents arrived. The last thing they needed was to be surrounded by hate and controversy while they were trying to clean themselves up and get their lives together. I made a quick call to the city hall to see if the mayor might be available for a chat, but he was on vacation. The town clerk suggested I speak with the chair of the city council and gave me her contact information. I then called the police station and spoke to the chief of police briefly. He understood my concerns instantly, and offered to stop by my office for a chat sometime during the afternoon.

Just before lunch I stopped in to chat with the archivist, Evelyn. I needed more information about the history of the Hathaway if we were going to be able to deal with the shadow figure that had appeared last night. The sudden need reminded me that two years ago I had asked about resources concerning the Hathaway, but our encounter with the spirits drew to a head so quickly and so violently that I had never followed up on that request. Today seemed to be the day to see if she had been able to find out anything more.