Chapter 4

My chest hurt. I felt constrained, almost bound in fact. The place felt familiar, but there was something odd, something old about it.

" ... buki..." the soft sound of a female voice floated through my mind. It was very familiar, part of an endearment. I knew this, but I didn't know why. I tried to concentrate, but the tightness in my chest seemed to amplify.

I was on my knees. I could feel the wood beneath them, could hear the soft sounds of the ocean. A soft smell of the sea, and of a thin, almost ephemeral perfume. I knew it, the scent so familiar.

I was dreaming.

My eyes flew open, revealing the painted white ceiling of my home. The warm blanket was wrapped tightly around me sealing in the little heat that my body produced. I glanced at the alarm clock, noting that the alarm was due to go off within a minute.

I shook my head, reaching over to turn it off. I had just had another strange dream. I'd been having them every night in the house. They always seemed extremely familiar, but with that distance that all dreams have. Real, or unreal, they seemed to be part of me. Close to a memory, but also almost seeming like an invention.

I pushed down the blanket, shivering slightly in the chill morning air. Time to get up. I had class to teach, and things to do. I glanced at the closet doors, momentarily thinking that I had caught motion in them. This house had far too many mirrors, I grumbled to myself as I pulled on my clothes.

I locked up the house, and got into my car, starting the engine as always. I flipped on the radio, and for an instant, got nothing but static. I rolled the knob back and forth, hearing the snippets of static, and stations that nearly came in. I turned the car and began the ascent up the small road to the highway.

" ... five in a row with ... crackle ... hiss ... all for the ... announced today ... shrrk ... Eimear ... hiss ... heh, heh, heh, yeah Jodi that's classic ... ding dong ... you're listening to ... hiss ... Eimear ... crackle..."

I gave up and flipped off the radio. I never got good reception down here anyway. I paused at the top of my driveway, and then pulled out onto Highway One, heading north towards Monterey.

It was only a quick drive to the school, and when I arrived I wasted no time in checking my messages. It seemed that my classes had done fine during my two week absence, but the pile of papers to grade on my desk brought a groan to my lips. I decided that that particular project could hold off until the evening, and spent the next hour informing the dean's secretary of my changed address.

When my American History class finally met, I was ecstatic. I couldn't wait to get there, and when I finally took my place at the podium, I scoped the room, looking for Trish. She was there, and in her characteristic T-shirt. I was tempted to go up to talk to her, but I knew that I had to concentrate on my job. I couldn't let how I felt about my student affect how I taught the class.

When my lecture was finished, I was a bit surprised when Trish didn't even bother to come up to talk to me. She hadn't even spared me a kind look, or a smile, or anything. It seemed almost as if we had never spent the time together. She left with the crowd of students, and didn't even look back at me.

I stood in the empty lecture hall, a bit disappointed. Hell, I was incredibly disappointed. I didn't know what I had expected of her, but I had hoped ... I had wished...

You're a fucking idiot.

The thought crossed my mind, and I snickered at the thought. I had nearly convinced myself over the last few days that I was in love with my student. She hadn't returned my calls, hadn't really been interested in talking to me. I had been her plaything, and now, I needed to accept that fact. In a very real sense, Trish had used me.

"You always were a bitch, Frances." The words of my ex-wife ran through my head again. Yeah, I had always been an idiot when ... wait, she had said, Henry, not ... where the hell had that name come from?

I'm not proud of the fact that I moped around the rest of the day. I did my work, and I taught my classes, but I didn't really speak to anyone. All I could think about was Jess, and then Trish. I just wanted them back. It was strange really, how I hadn't thought about them very much back at the house, but here at the college my brain just couldn't stop replaying the events.

Not that I could remember much of what Trish and I had done. I just remembered that orgasm she had given me, and her pulling me tightly against her body as she gasped. It was a pleasant memory.

I drove home that evening with a stack of papers and a lot of regrets. The fog had burned off that day, and I decided to do my grading in the backyard while there was still some light. There wasn't any garden furniture left, but the stone steps that led to the garden were more than adequate to provide a workspace.

I worked steadily. Fortunately, most of the essays were brief, since I had only requested two hundred and fifty words. They were interesting; I had requested that the class do an essay on an unusual American idiom, and fully explain it. At least it had the virtue of being something that required some thought.

I felt a light touch on my shoulder as I marked a paper with red pen. I turned, noting the large eucalyptus leaf that had fallen on me. The neighbors had planted several trees years ago, and the unusual choice for California always had lent a sweet smell to the air. I brushed off the leaf, and returned to my work.

The trees rustled with a soft breeze as I finished up. I stuffed the papers back into the folio that I had brought, and glanced out at the fading light. Time to make some dinner, and get some sleep.

It was then that I heard a voice in the breeze. I know it sounds crazy, but I could hear it as the wind came up, blowing across my face and carrying the sounds into my ears. It sounded like a female voice, actually three voices. It was hard to explain, but it sounded like three things being said at once, but gently, almost like a whispered endearment.

" ... bu ... mear ... ces ... ways lo..." and then, as I stopped to listen, it was gone, nothing save the rustling of the wind.

"Weird." I mumbled. It must have been one of the neighbor's televisions, or just a reflection of some sound.

I just couldn't help dwelling on it though. I found myself trying to pick out the words in my memory. They sounded so familiar. It was strange, but the voice, the words seemed like something I could almost remember, but when I concentrated on it, the memory slipped away. It was like trying to stare right at the star that you could only see out of the corner of your eye. When you paid it full attention, it disappeared.

I made dinner in the kitchen. The empty house seemed a tad more eerie than normal that night, and the sounds of water boiling and oil simmering in a frying pan were comforting. The house was too quiet, that was the problem. Growing up, there'd always been music playing, or people talking. Now, here alone, my mind liked to play tricks. I kept imagining things.

I looked up into the darkened window after I finished my stir fry, and thought, for just a split second that I saw a face. I wouldn't have thought much of it, but there was one thing that shone out at me. Red hair.

Irish, red hair. The kind that normally you only see from a bottle. It was the one image that stuck in my mind as I looked closer at the window. It was dark outside and the reflected light from inside almost made a mirror of the windows. I knew I had seen the red.

I was a little scared now. I didn't know what I was seeing, but I knew that there was no one in the house. I sat at the small counter that was integral to the kitchen, and began to eat, my eyes scanning about the house.

There was no further movement, no more flashes of color. I began to relax again. I tried to relax at any rate. I kept glancing up, expecting to see something. I didn't, but every few moments, I'd expect to see something again, and when I didn't, my apprehension just grew. At least an hour went by, and by the time I had finished my meal and washed my plates, I was literally jumping at shadows.

"Who ya gonna call..." I hummed, trying, unsuccessfully, to make light of the situation.

I didn't really think that there were ghosts in the house. Not really. I just figured that since I was distraught, tired, and dealing with way too much emotional crap, I was seeing things. I figured that the best thing to do was just ignore it and continue on. Either I would get better or go crazy. Either way, I wouldn't have to worry about it. If I got better, great. If I was crazy ... well I'd never KNOW that I was crazy.

It was that thought that sustained me as I made my way to my bedroom, turning off the lights in the house as I went. My bed sounded very good, and when I arrived, I quickly disrobed to my shorts, and slid into the warm blankets.

Warm ... Almost as if it had just been occupied. The feeling caused another chill to run through me, but I pushed it to the back of my mind as I tried to get to sleep.

" ... ei ... mear..." The word floated through the room, and I shook slightly. " ... yaaa ... maaa ... boo ... ki..." another word, closer it seemed. I was becoming afraid, and I pulled the blanket tight about myself. " ... fra ... ncess..." The words all seemed to be in different voices. All female voices, but all nearly inaudible. Whispered in a soft, endearing tone.

"Is someone ... there?" I asked to the darkened room.

There was no answer, just the silence of the house, and the soft creak of wood.

I breathed out again, curling my hands in the blanket. It was just ... It was nothing. It had to be nothing.

It was quiet, and I listened to the soft whispers of the wind and the waves. I rolled to the side, and in the darkness of the room, my eyes were drawn to the mirror door of the closet. There was a figure there, reflected.

I looked about the room, but there were no shapes save those I already knew intimately. However, in the mirror, there was a shape. A form. In the darkness it was indistinct, but there was a soft curve to it. It seemed to be looking right back at me, waiting.

I slid my feet to the side, and dropped them to the floor, my eyes never leaving the shape in the mirror. I had to see, I had to know.

I approached the mirror, and in the darkness, I could see my own shape as I approached. The figure seemed to be right next to the mirror, but I could not see anything there. The only evidence of a presence was the reflection, dark and insubstantial, but present.

I moved closer, until my reflection almost overlapped the other. I stretched out my hand, feeling for something, but I felt nothing but the air as it moved softly under my fingers. The shape did not move, and for a moment, my reflection seemed to melt, almost merging with the shape I recognized as feminine. Then, just as quickly as I had noticed it, my vision seemed to snap into focus, and all that was left in the dim light was me, staring at myself in my boxers.

I was fine. It was nothing. I sighed, willing myself to calm the hell down. I needed to relax, to sleep. I needed to do something, because I was driving myself insane in this house.

It was in the middle of my self-chiding that my computer turned on.

Just started right up. I had left it out on a small table I'd appropriated from my office. No windows boot, nothing normal, it just turned on. A white screen, flashing with random electronic jetsam. It was then that I heard it.

It started as a static, but the volume continued to rise, echoing out of the speakers. It grew louder and louder, filling the silent room with its sound. The light from the monitor brightened the entire room, and I could hear words beginning to form in different voices, as strange shapes seemed to flicker in the random patterns, reflecting off the walls.

" ... Swore ... what's she doing here ... Told Me I was the ONE ... LIED TO ME ... LIED TO ME ... NO ... forgive ... can't live without ... who is she ... WHO IS SHE..."

The shapes seemed to flit around the room, and the light grew brighter. My heart pounded and I found myself taking several steps backwards, my hands instinctively scrabbling for the door. I was afraid, deathly afraid of this random electronic barrage.

" ... NO ... can't leave her ... needs me ... ME ... WHERE IS SHE..."

I breathed rapidly, my eyes bugging out as my hand closed on the doorknob and yanked it open. I found myself running up the stairs, out the front door, and staring back at the windows of the house that flashed with the brilliant white light.