Running total: 29,106 words
Summary: The gang heads out to Grindstone Lake
Also, against my better judgment, there is a Chase chapter.
Ashley flips through a few more pages. “Now, you can be a bit skeptical about that. I understand. But look—“ She points at this page. “This is a photocopy of a newspaper clipping from the time. It details the murder. And this wasn’t the last time…” she keeps flipping through. “It’s happened again and again. Even after the Audubon Society bought it. People over almost a century all die in the exact same way, each time stumping the police.
“The workers there who believe in ghosts are afraid of the property now. After about the third murder, they started calling it ‘Grindstone’s Lake.’ The name eventually stuck. And now, they say, if you listen carefully at night, you can hear the sound of metal being sharpened on stone, as Grindstone gets ready to strike his next victim.”
Too far, Ashley. You’ve cheapened the story now. After everyone sits and stares at her for the next few moments in utter silence, she realizes she made it sound too much like a bad campfire ghost story. Meekly, she collects her binder and says “So that’s the basic scoop of it. We called the Audubon Society about it a little while ago. They wouldn’t give us free admission, which I think is a little stingy; I mean, we are going in there and removing the cause of several deaths, but—umm… well, we did get two rooms in a cabin out there for a week.”
Mr. Williams looks at Ashley incredulously. “And you’re paying for that… how?”
We all look at each other. Chase speaks first. “Well, we’re all chipping in a little bit of the cost.”
Kenneth adds, “Yeah, and we wanted to hold a fund raiser of some sort.”
Mr. Williams rubs the back of his head. “You know, if we had discussed this all earlier, we could have gotten the school to pay for this. It’s too late now—“
Brian says, “Hey, be cool, Williams. We’re all okay with pitching in on the price. If you’re coming with us, you can pitch in, too, you know. If it makes you feel better.”
Gee, Brian, you’re so smooth and totally not obvious at all.
Mr. Williams sighs. “I guess I’ll end up with most of the cost on my shoulders, hm?”
There’s not a good answer to that question.
“Well… if it’s for Kenneth’s safety, first and foremost, then I’m fine with it. But—why a full week?”
“People have gone years without seeing Grindstone,” Ashley says. “We’ll need all the time to find him.”
Kenneth chuckles. “Well, he’ll show up while we’re there. It’s just my luck.”
He has a point. One day he told the entire club about his various strings of bad luck, and… it was astounding. I didn’t think it was humanly possible for someone to have luck as bad as his. I feel so bad for Kenneth. I want to hold him close and tell him that everything will be okay. That I’ll always be by his side, through the good luck and, more importantly, through the bad. I wonder if he’d want me to stay by his side like that.
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Scene XI
The Plight of a Largely Hated Nerd on a Murderous Spectre’s Hit List
Chase
We all arrive at the Audubon Center separately, but we all get two rooms together; all the guys in one and the girls in the other. I’m there fourth. The first was apparently Mr. Williams, who seems to show up ridiculously early for everything. Wasn’t he the first that night of the first ghost incident?
Then Kenny and his mom. Apparently, she insisted on coming as a chaperone for the girls. Honestly? I’m glad she’s here. Because we probably do need a chaperone for the girls—my mom kept badgering me about it—and I would have really, really, really hated for my mom to come as a chaperone. She’s constantly worrying about me; you know, now that I think about it, my dad’s like that too. Trying to control every aspect of my life. I hate it so much. I’m old enough to make decisions for myself.
Ms. White is a nice woman. For being as old as she must be, she’s still pretty. Not like I want to do her or anything like that, but I can respect a woman who looks as good as she does. She’s also probably the best person to join us—she’s the only other adult that knows about Kenneth’s condition. Right after Kenny and I talked that one night, he made sure he told his mom what had happened. Probably a good thing, too. It would have been too difficult to explain what those huge gashes in the furniture were otherwise. I was there for the whole thing—she was appropriately freaked out at first, but she took it all pretty well otherwise.
“Hello, Chase! How has your summer been?” Mr. Williams greets me casually.
I make a ‘so-so’ gesture and say, “Eh. Same as always. A lot of time trying to learn some new programming techniques and stuff…”
And you’ve been researching spectres. Tell him that. He’ll be impressed by your dedication to the task.
Alistair… is still here. He can’t figure out how to leave my body—or at least, that’s what he’s telling me, and I can’t really argue about it because what do I know about possession? I haven’t told anyone about Alistair’s existence yet. Everyone just thinks I’m so smart and clever for figuring out what was wrong with Kenneth and fixing the problem. The credit really goes to Alistair, but I have no idea how to tell anyone about him. I’ve explained why I’ve taken credit for his actions to him, though, and seems pretty cool about it (okay, maybe he’s a little miffed, but what can I do about it).
“Chase, you okay?”
I snap back to reality. I try not to talk to Alistair in public, because apparently I screw up my face when we converse. I try to smile. “Ah, yeah, I’m fine. Just… thinking of my summer activities!” I pause, then add, “I’ve been brushing up on some basic ghost lore. Just so I can be a little bit more helpful from now on, you know?”
There, you happy?
…Chase, are you mad at me?
Forget about it.
Alistair does not respond. I feel his emotions; he’s deeply hurt. I brush it off. That’s another annoying thing about Alistair’s possession: we feel each other’s emotions. If I’m upset, he gets upset. If he’s particularly happy or giddy, I’ll get giddy. It’s annoying when we should be feeling opposite emotions. I’m getting better at being un-empathetic, but it’s seriously impairing my ability to feel anything that isn’t general bitterness.
I mean, I won’t deny that Alistair’s really helped us out. We might all be dead if it weren’t for him. But it’s a matter of privacy. I feel like I’m always being watched. I guess I kind of am. I’ve never been a people-person, and being around a person all day, every day is really taxing. I wish Alistair could be around, but… not in my body.
Seriously, why couldn’t he have possessed Brian or something?
I snap back to reality after my introspection on having a ghost living inside me to find that Kenneth is giving me a worried glance. As our eyes meet, he looks away. Hmmm.
Brian and Ashley arrive together, but surprisingly not all over each other. Ashley’s holding her little “ghost binder” to her chest and Brian seems to be carrying all of their luggage. It’s a lot for a week at a cabin. I mean, my bag is really heavy, but I had to carry in all the recording equipment. What’s her excuse?
“Wow, so many people here all ready!” Ashley says. Thank you, Captain Obvious! “Are we all ready checked in? How does this work here?”
“You check in, just like at a hotel. Only… we’re in cabins,” Mr. Williams explains. “We’re checked in, but we’re waiting for everyone to show up.”
“Who’s not here yet?” Brian looks around dazedly. He kind of looks like he’s high right now, but you know back in ninth grade he was smoking like a joint a day and ever since he’s always looked stoned out of his mind. He claims that he hasn’t smoked a thing since the ghost incident—a doubtful claim, at best.
“Oh, I guess it’s Scarlett,” Brian answers his own question.
“Yeah… is she always this late for stuff?” Kenneth asks.
“Yep.” I sigh. “You know, she thinks she’s so cool and independent and everything, but she falls into all sorts of real-life tropes.” Realizing that ‘tropes’ is an extremely geeky word, I extrapolate: “stereotypes.”
Ashley’s eyes light up. “Now that you mention it, she does! She’s always showing up fashionably late… and now that you mention it, even the whole ‘indie’ thing is typical. I wonder if she realizes?”
Brian laughs. “Probably not. But you should leave it that way, or she might get really defensive.”
“Hey, you want to hear a funny story?” As soon as I say that, I wish I hadn’t. If word gets out that I told everyone this, Scarlett will never forgive me.
But as soon as Brian asks, “What?” It’s too late. I get lost in the moment and begin to tell the tale.
“Okay, so I had French II with Scarlett last year, right? One day after class she leaves her book on the desk. Crime and Punishment, you know? That she carried around like a badge of honor?”
“Oh, yeah, I remember that!” Brian laughs. “Dude, that was annoying.”
“Well, I thought I’d be a good Samaritan and hand it back to her. But it was open on her desk, and guess what?” I pause for dramatic effect. “It wasn’t Crime and Punishment at all. I just glanced at it, but it was Twilight. She just changed the covers.”
“Twilight?” asks Kenneth. “Isn’t that the one with the vampires that all the teen girls love and everyone else hates?”
“Yep! That’s the one.”
“Whoa, dude.” Brian stops, then laughs loudly. “I totally didn’t think that Scarlett would be into that stuff!”
“What can I say?” I shrug.
“What did you say to her? I mean, she knew you must have—“
“I just… tried to act natural. Handed her the book and smiled.”
Brian punches me in the shoulder. “Way to go, man. That’s how you treat the ladies.”
We don’t say anything else for a little while. Even after Scarlett show up, everything we’re talking about is boring.
Chase?
Here we go again. What is it?
…Why are you mad at me?
You wouldn’t understand.
But I haven’t done anything wrong!
Like I said, Alistair, you wouldn’t understand. I sigh out loud. Everyone looks at me but no one asks. Good. It’s just… we’re two different people. You’re completely different than I am, and you’ll never fully understand me. I’ll never fully understand you, but I’m fine with that. Why can’t you be?
That shuts him up for a good while. But about twenty minutes later, he says, Well… I have another question.
Shoot.
What?
The question. Shoot the question out there, and I’ll answer it.
…Okay. Sometimes I don’t know how I tolerate his complete ignorance of the modern world. Well—this Scarlett girl, do you like her?
I don’t answer for a while. I mean, of course I like her. Really like her. But I’ve already went over this, and I don’t know exactly how to convey those feelings to Alistair. I mean, from his head-voice, I can’t imagine he’s more than thirteen or fourteen.
Finally, I just think Yes.
But then, why do you make fun of her behind her back? Isn’t that mean? What if she finds out? She’ll hate you, you know.
…I know. How can I explain this to Alistair? She’ll hate me either way.
Why?
She—can’t you tell? She hates me so much. Every day I
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