Three Ghosts Read online

  A NineStar Press Publication

  www.ninestarpress.com

  Three Ghosts

  ISBN: 978-1-64890-564-3

  © 2022 Kevin Klehr

  Cover Art © 2022 Jaycee DeLorenzo

  Published in October 2022 by NineStar Press, New Mexico, USA.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact NineStar Press at [email protected].

  CONTENT WARNING:

  Depictions of violence, references to cheating, murder (off-page) and death (off-page).

  Three Ghosts

  A NSP Paranormal Short

  Kevin Klehr

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Three Ghosts

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  To my husband, Warren. Your support is never taken for granted.

  To my friend, Clinton. Your enthusiasm keeps me going.

  To Mary. Having a fan in the family is a blessing.

  Arthur stepped through the door first. The house spirit stood to the side of the entrance.

  “Welcome to the abode,” she greeted. “You know it’s customary to tip me.”

  “Of course. If you spill red wine on carpet, soak it in soda water immediately.”

  “I know that one, but it is a good tip. Thank you. Now, your name, please.”

  “Oh, sorry. My name is Arthur.”

  “And I’m Sabrina. You picked a good night to haunt this house. The residents are away.”

  “I know. That’s why we’re here. By the way, I like your scarf.”

  Sabrina felt the texture of the silk, sliding her hand over her head. “Really? Why, thank you. It’s new.”

  “I like the small red roses dotted all over it. Very stylish with old-world simplicity.”

  Sabrina grinned. Arthur strode into the living room. “I’ve seen this lamp before.” He stroked the fabric of its shade.

  Carol and her boyfriend floated through the closed door. “Hello,” she said to Sabrina. “I heard you introduce yourself to Arthur.”

  “And you are?”

  “Carol. And this is my better half, Tim.”

  “And your tips?”

  “Stainless steel appliances can be cleaned with baby oil on a paper towel,” Tim replied.

  She smiled and ushered him in.

  “Fresh mint in every room will keep flies away,” Carol said. “And lavender deters mosquitos.”

  “Oh, two tips. I’ll keep them in mind. You may enter.”

  Tonight, Arthur, Carol, and Tim were stargazing again in the mortal realm. Whenever a shooting star was planned, one of the friends would choose an empty home for all three to explore. Its occupants would always be on holiday. These ghosts would lounge around, flick through the music selection, check where the alcohol was stashed, and time their stay so they could enjoy the meteor show from the best vantage point.

  Arthur moved on to the bar. “Ah, vodka!” He screwed off the lid and sniffed the bottle. “Not the usual standard I’m accustomed to.” He felt queasy. He massaged his temples and ambled to the stereo. “Yes! They have a record player.”

  Tim rubbed the shade of the vintage lamp. “Is this from the seventies? It’s got that rough feel. And notches. But I don’t remember it from any other place we’ve haunted.”

  Carol joined him for a closer look. “It’s from an era when texture was in. Do you think it’s a family heirloom? It’s out of place with the rest of the décor.”

  “Well, you picked a suburban house instead of a mansion.” Arthur thumbed through the vinyl collection. “Even their music tastes are suburban. What made you choose this house? It’s not our usual luxury stay.”

  “This neighbourhood has the best vantage point for tonight’s cosmic star show,” she replied.

  “Are you sure?” Arthur asked. “Any mansion on the harbour would be better than…Hey, they have Donna Summer.”

  “Which album?” Carol joined Arthur. “I know that cover. Donna on an old radio. It’s a ‘best of’ collection with a few new songs thrown in. Well, they’re old songs now but you know what I mean.”

  Arthur pulled out an album with a cartoon image of a man in a pink shirt. “Who are Bright Light Bright Light?”

  Tim peered over his shoulder. “You’re gay and you don’t know who Bright Light Bright Light is?”

  “I’ve been dead for a while,” Arthur replied.

  “Ah, I remember this artist.” Carol pulled the record from its sleeve. It was bright pink. “I saw this cover come up on the computer screen we played music from in that house with the marble entrance. The big mofo marble entrance.” She handed the record to Arthur who placed it on the turntable. “We’re in another gay household.”

  “Cool.” Arthur recognised the first track. “Yeah, this was a good album.” He hummed along.

  “Hey, you’ve got to see this,” Tim called. He was around the corner in the dining area. “Arthur, you really have to see this.”

  “Why are you looking through their photo album?” Carol asked her boyfriend. “You’re not the nosey type.”

  “Well, Arthur thought the lamp looked familiar so…” Tim gazed at its open page from the surface of the cabinet he found it in.

  “Arthur.” Carol’s tone was urgent. “You really need to see this.”

  But as Arthur strode towards them, he recognised something else. On the same dining room cabinet was a collection of framed photos. Most of the people in the pictures he didn’t know, but the grey-haired woman in the teal dress and the man with his arms wrapped around a stranger from behind were instantly familiar. Older, but familiar.

  “That’s the love of my life,” Arthur muttered. He pointed to the man he knew.

  Carol’s eyes widened as she gazed at Arthur. “That explains why your photo is in this album.”

  *

  The bottle of vodka sat with its screw top off. Its vapor had permeated the trio’s ectoplasm long enough to make their cheeks rosy, but no one was tipsy. Arthur sat on an outdoor recliner in the backyard, fixated on the image of his former lover. His friends sat on steel framed chairs, studying the photos in the album.

  “The grass smells freshly cut.” Arthur sounded monotone.

  “You’ve been staring at your ex for so long, your mind is wandering,” Tim said. “Are you going to tell us who he is?”

  “Someone I left for the wrong reasons.”

  Carol rolled her eyes. “You old drama queen. Whoever he is, he didn’t do too badly for himself. Okay liquor. Nice music collection. Classy furniture for a humble home.” She grunted. “He’s not going to suddenly talk to you and tell you he loves you from that picture, Arthur.”

  “She’s got a point, mate. The shooting star is due just before midnight and your moping is making tonight a downer. Who is he?”

  “Alexander.”

  “Alexander?” Carol queried. “You went out with someone named Alexander? Arthur and Alexander. Were you knights of the round table?” She smirked at her own joke.

  Arthur shot up the palm of his hand as a stop signal. “Don’t joke. This is serious. Leaving him was the biggest mistake of my life.”

  “You look cute together in these photos,” Tim said. “And young. Oh, so very young. Are you sure you don’t want to look?”

  Arthur shook his head. “I know those
photos. I was there.”

  “Aren’t you curious what became of him?” Carol asked. “I mean, there’s some nice pics of Alexander and what’s-his-name in this album. And by the looks of this, they met close to the age you left him.”

  “Oh,” Tim said. “That’s a low blow.”

  “Tough love.” She screwed the lid back on the vodka bottle.

  “Hey!” Arthur shrieked. “The vodka may be second rate but it’s doing the trick.”

  “The trick of making you morbid,” Carol said.

  “What’s-his-name is named Edward,” Tim said.

  “Huh?” Arthur watched Tim read something stuck in the photo album.

  “I’ve just found an anniversary card.”

  Carol nudged Tim in the ribs. “Let’s explore the place. Maybe Alex has a dirty secret. Mystery children. A fascination for bridal gowns. Collecting recipes containing poison. There’ll be a computer somewhere. That’s the first place to look.”

  “Or we could find his porn collection.” Arthur grinned.

  “I’ll give that a miss,” said Tim.

  “That’s usually the first thing you look for,” Arthur replied.

  “Yeah,” Carol confirmed. “I like it when Tim finds porn. He’s hornier than a pen full of rabbits.”

  “I know,” Arthur replied. “I hear you, even if the place we haunt has bedrooms at opposite ends of the house.”

  “I’m not that loud,” Carol protested.

  “It’s not you I’m talking about. Tim’s horny groans are a cross between an opera baritone and a mother giving birth.”

  “That’s why you need a boyfriend so you can do more than sniff the bedsheets while playing backstroke roulette after picking the bedroom with the manliest smell.” Tim stood. “Let’s explore!”

  “No, wait.” Carol listened intently. “Is that a car coming up the driveway?”

  “OMG!” Tim jumped up. “They’re home.”

  Arthur headed towards the living room window. “It could be just someone making a three-point turn in their driveway.”

  But Sabrina was already placing the record back in its sleeve. Arthur helped put the albums away. His friends rushed inside from the garden.

  Carol wolf whistled. “Alexander is sexier in real life. Photos don’t do him justice. I wonder if his boyfriend is just as…”

  Edward sauntered in with a small suitcase, stood in the living room, and shuddered as if shaking off a bad feeling.

  “You do that,” Tim said to Arthur. “Whenever you’re upset about something, you shake it out of your body.”

  “Did they have a fight?” Carol asked. “Is that why they’re home early?”

  Alexander marched upstairs with his bag.

  “Those are some heavy footsteps,” Tim noted. “Yep, they’ve had a fight.”

  “We should go,” said Carol.

  But none of them moved.

  *

  Edward took a long, measured breath, then headed for the alcohol. “Do you want a drink?” he called to Alex. There was no reply.

  *

  “You do that, too, Arthur,” said Tim. “You breathe out like a dragon letting off steam.”

  “Yes. I know.” Arthur exhaled. “He’s going to discover the vodka’s missing.”

  “We really should go,” Carol said.

  Tim smirked. “It’s a shame we don’t have popcorn to inhale. We’re in for a show.” He glanced in several directions. “Where’s the best place to watch this from?”

  “It depends if Alex comes back down, or Edward goes upstairs.” Arthur listened.

  Sabrina rolled her eyes and stood watch like any good house spirit.

  “No, wait,” Arthur said. “Alex is coming back down.”

  *

  Alexander stood halfway up the stairwell. “Vodka, please.” He trudged back up.

  Edward searched the bar. Several bottles clanked as he moved them aside. “We don’t have vodka.”

  “We have vodka,” Alex called out. “I bought vodka and gin for us to enjoy when we got home. And now we’re home, earlier than planned.”

  “Seriously, there’s no vodka.”

  “There is vodka!”

  *

  “Oh.” Arthur squirmed. “This is a doozy. Alex will be down in a second to prove Edward wrong.”

  “Won’t he be in for a shock?” Carol replied.

  “Yep,” Tim said. “Here he comes. He sounds like he’s wearing Dutch clogs with those heavy footsteps.”

  *

  Alex stormed to the bar, nudging Edward aside. More bottles clanked. He crouched and opened the small fridge. He stood, shaking his head.

  “Shall we have gin instead?” Edward asked. He didn’t wait for an answer. He took a couple of glasses and soon handed his partner a gin and tonic with a huge ice cube. “What? You can’t even say thank you?”

  “Thank you,” Alex grumbled. He sat on an armchair.

  “You know what our therapist said.” Edward stood above him. “Finish each fight before bedtime.”

  *

  “Where do you think Edward will sit?” Tim wondered.

  “Why do you want to know?” Arthur asked.

  “Because if he takes the other armchair, we can sit on the three-seater and have front row seats.”

  “Maybe he’ll keep standing for dominance,” Carol replied. “Ah. No. He took the armchair. Stay light footed and don’t knock anything over.”

  The friends slowly manoeuvred between Edward and the coffee table. They carefully lowered themselves on the sofa so no noise was made as they sat.

  Edward exhaled again. Carol smirked at Arthur. He playfully scowled back.

  *

  “It’s not my fault,” Ed exclaimed.

  “You don’t just show up,” Alex replied. “You book. You ring the resort and ask if there are rooms available.”

  “I did. I have the confirmation on my phone. See!”

  “The receptionist couldn’t find our booking. Geez, Louise! We’re now going to have a staycation for the next seven days. I have a week off work, and I’m stuck at home.”

  “If you didn’t run back to the car and threaten to drive off, we could have sorted it out. The resort owes us. The confirmation is right here. On my phone.”

  Alexander downed his gin in one gulp, then stormed to the kitchen to make another.

  “This isn’t about the resort.” Ed grunted. “You are so wound up with that job you can’t see reason.” He tossed his phone on the coffee table, then pointed to it. “The evidence is there. A confirmation. The resort stuffed up. We could be there sipping pina coladas and getting caught in the rain.”

  “It’s not raining.”

  “I’m joking. It’s called lightening the mood.”

  The couple stayed silent.

  *

  “He’s an uptight bugger,” said Tim. “Are you sure he was the love of your life?”

  “He wasn’t as grumpy back in the day,” Arthur replied.

  “But was he that unreasonable?” Carol asked.

  Arthur nodded.

  *

  “There’s a confirmation…” Ed sang and made dance moves in his chair. “I booked. They said yes. They confirmed. We could be there now.”

  Alex sat and gave his boyfriend a dirty look.

  “And Alexander blames me. And I booked. And I have proof. But this is not about the holiday. La-la-la. He’s married to his work. La-la-la. Not to me. La-de-da. So he’ll work from home now. Fa-la-la.”

  “Could you stop singing?”

  “Could you stop sulking?”

  *

  “Did he…?” Carol asked Arthur.

  “Yep. He used to sulk big time. And he always put his career first.”

  “That’s why you left?” Tim gazed at Alexander.

  “Uh-huh.”

  *

  After a while, Edward wandered off. Alex stayed on the sofa swirling the gin in his glass.

  “Yikes.” Ed rushed back to the living ro
om. “The vodka is outside.”

  “What?”

  “La-de-da. Vodka. La-la-la. It’s in the backyard. Do. Re. Mi. Someone’s been in our house. Fa. So. La. Ti. They may still be here.”

  “Why didn’t you bring the vodka back inside with you?”

  “Fingerprints. We may need the bottle as evidence.”

  “How much did they drink?”

  “None of it.”

  “Huh?”

  Alexander headed outside. Edward followed. They instantly returned and searched the rooms of the house.

  *

  “We’ve spooked them,” Carol said.

  “Isn’t that what ghosts are supposed to do?” Tim replied.

  “Listen to them,” Arthur said. “They’re rushing around like there’s a killer in their home.”

  “A roving bottle of vodka,” Carol reasoned. “What else are they meant to think?”

  “You were right, Carol.” Arthur stared at the front door. “We should go.”

  She shook her head. “You’ve got to let him know there’s no one here. Well, no one else alive, anyway.”

  “Why me?”

  “Because he knows you,” Tim replied. “Seeing all three of us will spook him out.”

  “Just seeing me will spook him out.” Arthur exhaled.

  “Did you see that?” Carol asked Tim. “That frustrated breath thing Arthur always does. Edward does the same thing. And that sing-song thing. They both do that sing-song thing.”

  “I don’t sing fa-la-la when I’m arguing.”

  “No,” Tim replied. “But your voice has a melody when you’re making light of something. Me and Carol play ‘name that tune’ in our heads, then compare notes later.”

  “You do?”

  “We do,” Carol confirmed. “And there’s another reason you should talk to Alex. You have unfinished business. And it looks like his new boyfriend is an Arthur clone.”

  “An Arthur substitute, thank you very much.” Arthur shifted, making the sofa squeak.

  “Shh.” Tim put his finger to his lips.

  “They’re upstairs,” Arthur replied. “They can’t hear the noises we make down here from up there. And, Carol, I don’t have unfinished business. I left. Clean break.”

  “Then what were all the high dramatics about?” Tim asked. “Oh, the love of my life. Oh, I had to leave him. You were staring at Alexander’s image for so long, I swear you wanted it to come to life.”