TWO SOULS: INTO THE FIRE … # 9
Morning came as it always did in Missing Mile, hot and humid, even this early. Kinsey had closed up the Yew the night before after everyone had left. Ghost and Steve had packed up and left, to sleep and to head out on their fishing adventure this morning. Kinsey chuckled at the thought of those two. He brewed a strong pot of coffee and sat thinking of what he had to do this day.
The bar wasn’t open in the mornings, but Terry knew Kinsey would be up, and he really needed a mug of the coffee he knew would be just about ready. As he quietly opened the door, he felt the refreshing coolness inside, and smelled the rich, dark coffee. Kinsey was seated at one of the tables, feet propped up on a chair.
“Hey, get yourself a cup,” Kinsey nodded toward the kitchen. They sat in companionable silence for a bit, letting the steaming mugs of liquid do it’s work in waking them up.
“Quite a show last night, huh?” mused Terry.
“Yeah, we did good on the count, and you guys were amazing! I can always depend on Lost Souls? to pack the house. I’m glad they’re back in town,” Kinsey replied.
“So, what’s everyone doing today?” asked Terry.
“Well, I’m cleaning up, and then we’ll be open for regular hours tonight. No bands are booked, so it’ll just be the kids wanting food, beer, and games. The jukebox will have to do tonight.”
“Yeah, I’ll probably drop in later. I have to go open the store in a little bit. I gave Steve the next couple days off,” said Terry. “Oh, what’s that I heard about them going fishing? Was that today?”
“Yep, them two had it all planned out. Gonna leave first thing this morning and head over to the lake,” Kinsey chuckled again. “I can’t even begin to imagine how that’ll go.”
“Hmm,” Terry mused. “Why don’t we sneak out there and see for ourselves? I’ll bet we’d get a few laughs out of it.”
“Yeah, that’d be something to see, but I got too much to do around here. I suspect we’ll hear all about it when they get back. Might be interesting to hear what they say. You know, we’ll be hearing two different versions of the thing. It’ll be funny to compare the two stories…and I do mean ‘stories’, ya know…neither one will be what actually went on.”
“You got that right, Kinsey,” laughed Terry, as he got up to leave. “See ya later.”
Kinsey went to get the supplies to begin his chores.
Meanwhile, at the house out on Burnt Church Road, Steve prodded Ghost to get up.
“Get your ass outta bed, Ghost, we’ve got fish to catch!”
“Wha…what time is it?” mumbled Ghost.
“Time to go, man…I’ve already got the T-Bird packed. Get your butt in gear and let’s get outta here,” Steve replied in a sing-song voice.
“You made a rhyme, Steve, that’s funny,” said Ghost, as he burrowed deeper into his blankets. Steve yanked off the covers, grabbed Ghost by the ankles and dragged him to the floor.
“Get up, NOW!” he said, as he left the room.
Ghost rubbed his eyes as he slowly made his way to the kitchen in search of coffee. He poured a cup from the pot Steve had made earlier. Going into the living room, he sat cross legged on the couch. He could hear Steve pacing around on the porch.
“Guess I better get dressed,” he thought, “before Steve comes back in here.”
Too late, Steve slammed open the screen door and stood looking at Ghost. He pretended to be mad, but really, he was thinking how cute Ghost looked, all sleepy soft, and messy hair, his eyes looking at him over his hot coffee cup. Steve shoook his head and just said, “Hurry up,” and he smiled
Ghost bit his lower lip and whispered, “Ok.”
Finally, they were on their way to the lake. It was only outside of town a short way. Steve was in a good mood. He babbled on about what fun they were going to have. Ghost just looked doubtful. After finding what Steve deemed a good spot to find fish, they lugged the fishing poles, a dilapidated old Army tent, a cooler of beer, and some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches Steve had put together, over to the lake’s edge.
“What now, Steve?” Ghost asked. “I never done this before, ya know.”
“Hmm,” said Steve. “Let me get the fishing stuff ready, and you can put up the tent.”
He started off with the poles and bait bucket, while Ghost just stood there staring at the tent. He had no idea what to do to put it together. It was one of those old fashioned canvas one, from an Army supply store. They’d had it for years. It was unwieldy, with wooden poles, ropes, and pegs. It was also dusty and had cobwebs on it. It smelled funky from being stored for so long.
“Ewww, this is gross,” Ghost wrinkled his nose in disgust, but he started to unroll it anyway. As he did, a big spider scuttled out of the rolls of canvas.
“Aiiii,” Ghost hollered and started hopping around, sure the giant monster spider had somehow jumped on him. He was flapping his arms, and stomping his feet, and shaking his hair all around. Steve looked over in alarm, thinking Ghost was having some kind of psychic fit or something.
“Ghost! What’s wrong?” he hollered.
“I think it touched me! I think it bit me…I think I’m gonna die out here! And you don’t even care!” Ghost wailed.
Steve ran over, trying to find out what Ghost was actually screaming about. “Slow down, dude, what bit you?”
“It was a giant, ugly spider…do you see it on me, Steve, do you? Look on my back, look in my hair…Oh, Steve, get it off me!”
Steve looked, and brushed Ghost off, but never saw any spider. “It’s ok now,” he said, to a much relieved Ghost. “It’s gone.”
He started laughing. He laughed until he thought his sides would burst. “Dude, you screamed like a little girl. I never saw anybody flap around like that in my life!” Steve was rolling on the ground, holding his stomach. “Oh, my God, I wish I had a camera, Ghost. You should’a seen yourself.” He went on and on.
Ghost did not think it was funny at all. “Fuck you, Steve. Just fuck you!”
Steve looked up at Ghost, and still laughing, said, “Is that all you got to say? Huh? Let’s hear what the funny guy has to say.”
Ghost gave him a look of daggers, but didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then he let Steve have it. He rarely lost his cool, but Steve deserved his wrath.
“You asshole, Steve,” Ghost said in a deadly calm voice, his blue eyes stormy. “You dragged me out here in the middle of nowhere, and you know I hate stuff like this. You probably hoped I’d get freaked out about something, so you could be all ‘I have to save Ghost from his crazy ideas’ and be a big shot. Well, congratulations, Steve, you got your wish. So, I’m walking home now. You can stay here and fish your brains out.” He turned and stomped away.
“Ghost…” Steve started.
Ghost turned back and hollered,”And furthermore…I DON’T KILL FISH!”
Steve just blinked at the sight of his best friend’s back, as he left. He’d never seen Ghost so mad. “Damn,” he said to himself. “Well, he’ll be back soon enough.”
He set about his task of baiting the fish-hooks, dropping them in the water, and waiting. He was waiting for a bite, and waiting for Ghost to return.
Thanks for visiting! Peace
© 2016 BS
This is a work of “fan fiction” based on the novel, “Lost Souls” by Poppy Z. Brite. All credit for the original characters, places, and some backstory mentions, belong to Ms. Brite and her publishing affiliates. Only newly introduced characters, places, and original elements of this story are entirely from my imagination. Character descriptions are a blend of the original book descriptions and my interpretation of them.
All songs included in this work will be solely owned by the original performers/writers and will be credited. Creative liscense is taken in including them in this story.
No harm is intended toward author, muscians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblence.
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The content herein is rated by me as being at the high end of MA (Mature Audience). It includes strong language, violence, sexual themes, including same sex pairings, religious themes, and fantasy horror.
Next part coming soon!
Peace, Love, & Writing