Two Souls: Into the Fire # 309
TWO SOULS: INTO THE FIRE
After Ghost had slammed out the back door, Melody went to look out. “He’s going out to the old cemetery.”
“He’ll be back,” Steve said. He reached for more bacon, and continued eating breakfast. “This sure is good. Y’all better dig in.” And, so they did, but no one felt like making small talk, now. The only sounds were the clinking of their forks. Steve finished first, chugging his glass of milk last.
“Very nice breakfast. Are y’all leaving now?” He looked back and forth between Linda and Melody. “You can see we’re not dead or anything.”
Linda shrugged. “I should be getting back to the kids,” Linda said. “You want to come, or stay here?” she asked Melody.
“I’m going with you.”
“Well, we’re gonna just chill out here for a couple of days, lay low ya know. We’ll let Terry cool off, or whatever. I don’t really want to run into him anytime soon,” Steve said.
“Yeah, me either,” said Linda, “but, I’m sure we will, and I may just let him have it. In fact, I know I will. He can’t go pulling his gun out, threatening y’all, or anyone else like that. I don’t care who he is.” She went to get her purse and car keys. “Ready?” she asked Melody.
Melody nodded. “Yep, and Steve, tell Ghost I love him, and well…go out there and see about him. I don’t like leaving like this, when he is so upset, but y’all need some alone time.”
“I will,” Steve said. He walked with them out to the car. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll be okay, and we’ll see y’all in a few days.” He watched them drive away, then got his jacket. He poured some hot coffee, with cream and sugar, into a thermos, then went out to find Ghost.
Crunching through the dried pine needles on his way to the cemetery, Steve made his way to his and Ghost’s usual sitting spot. Sighing, he slowed, as he saw Ghost leaning against the old gravestone. It pained him to see the bruises on Ghost’s face, knowing why he’d gotten them.
Ghost didn’t look up, as Steve approached, but Steve knew Ghost heard him. He sat beside Ghost, poured a cupful of coffee into the thermos lid, and handed it to Ghost.
“Here…brought ya some coffee,” he said. Ghost took it, taking a large swallow. Steve leaned back, waiting for Ghost to say something first, but he took a few more gulps of his coffee.
“Why do you do that?” Ghost asked.
Steve glanced over at him. “Huh? Do what?”
“You know, tell me how I should feel, how I should act. I’m capable of knowing that on my own. Maybe it don’t match up with yours, but I do have feelings, Steve…good ones, bad ones, or sad or mad ones…all the time, on my own. You keep telling me which one I should be feeling.”
“I know you do,” Steve said. “I don’t get it, though, how you could be ready to kill Terry one day, and the next you’re making excuses for what he did, like it was no big deal.”
Ghost shrugged. “‘Cause it’s over. It’s already done, and that won’t change. We can hold onto what it was and be mad forever, or we can try to understand why it happened, and then move on…it’s done.” He paused for a minute.
“Nothing good comes from thinking about it over and over…and, Steve, Terry is our friend. Something was making him crazy, and we’d be wrong to end it, when nothing actually happened.”
Steve frowned. “What the hell, Ghost? Nothing happened? Were you off in la-la land when all this nothing happened? Look at yourself Look at me…even Terry…nothing happened? You gotta be shittin’ me.” He shook his head.
“What I meant was…we’re not dead,” Ghost said.
“You’re right, we’re not dead, so let’s all just go get an ice cream sundae to celebrate,” Steve said. “Every single one of us…a toast to not being dead…just beat up and being confused, and hating on everyone, and maybe even possessed by the boogyman. Hell yeah, let’s go round ’em up. I’m paying.” Steve took a breath.
Ghost stared hard at Steve.
“What? What are you doing?” Steve asked. “Stop staring at me.”
“Shh…be quiet…I’m trying to hear what you’re thinking, why you’re being mad at me,” Ghost said.
“Fuck off…leave my thoughts alone. If you want to know something, just ask,” Steve said, as he backed away a bit from Ghost.
Ghost shrugged. “Okay…” He broke off his gaze.
“Well?” asked Steve. “You gonna ask me something? Huh? Oh, you wanna know why I’m mad at you? It’s ’cause you are acting like it was all a big, fat nothing last night. So what if it was this omen thing, whatever that means. It don’t change the fact that Terry was off his rocker. I know he wasn’t really wanting to kill us. Something went wrong and he snapped. But, damn, he could have done it…for real…then woke up to reality again. But, then it would have been too late…for us.” He sighed. “Don’t you see that?”
“Yeah, sure, of course I do, but it didn’t happen.” Ghost said. He stood up, brushing off the pine needles. “I’m done talking about it, now. I’m getting a headache. I’m going in. You can be mad at me some more, just keep it to yourself.” He picked up his backpack, heading for the house.
Steve muttered, “Yeah, well quit reading my mind, then.” He followed Ghost into the house.
Next part coming soon!
Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️
© 2018 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 license is taken in including them in this story.
No harm is intended toward author, musicians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblance.
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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.