Nearly Departed, Max Schlienger [the gingerbread man read aloud txt] 📗

of motion, and felt Alena sit down next to him. “Okay, what’s the matter? Still that thing with Sam?”

Dennis opened his eyes and looked into the concerned gaze of his wife. “You would not believe the day that I’ve had.” Alena smiled sympathetically, and leaned in to kiss him, but pulled back and wrinkled her nose before their lips met.

“Ugh, Dennis, you reek,” she said. He started to protest, but realized that the mixed odors of nervous sweat, alcohol, and pipe tobacco were not the best ingredients for a pleasant aroma. The lingering vomit stench probably didn't help, either.

“Sorry,” Dennis replied. “I’ll go shower. Just give me a minute.” He closed his eyes again, but he could feel Alena still watching him.

“Did something happen?” she asked finally.

Dennis tried to laugh, but the sound came out as a gravelly cough. “You could say that.”

“Tell me.”

It was more difficult to open his eyes this time, but he managed it. Alena’s expression was warm and open, although tightened with worry. Dennis was uncertain of how to explain the way his day had gone. Not only did Alena disapprove of his borderline-dishonest escapades, she was also a staunch realist, and not at all the sort of person who would believe a story about a haunted chair.

“Well,” Dennis began, his eyebrows furrowing slightly, “the good news is that I won’t have to go out in makeup anymore.” He scratched at the flakes of glue still clinging to his face, and immediately regretted it. The itching sensation was bad enough, and the miniature snowstorm that the motion caused was an irritant of its own.

“You got caught, didn’t you?”

“Sort… of…” replied Dennis slowly. “Not in the way that you’re thinking, though. Oh, and Draadtrekker is a fake.”

A look of confusion crossed Alena’s face. “What is?”

“Not what,” corrected Dennis. “Who. Draadtrekker, the guy who runs that store with all the crystals and stuff, is a fake.”

“That’s nice,” Alena said, still clearly puzzled. “What does that have to do with you?”

“He gave me this rock that was supposedly a magical artifact,” Dennis explained. “It started buzzing in my pocket, and I confronted him about it. It turns out that the guy isn’t a half-bad electrician.” He left out the details of their fight, although his leg ached at the memory.

“So, what, it was electronic?” Alena asked. Dennis nodded his affirmation. “Where is it?”

“Probably still under a cabinet somewhere in his shop,” replied Dennis. He suddenly recalled his earlier visit to the store, and dug the paper-wrapped candle out of his pocket. The package had been resting there all day, and it felt oddly contorted. Dennis suspected that he had landed on it at some point.

“What’s this?” Alena asked, reaching for something on the floor. She came up with a folded piece of paper, and Dennis immediately recognized it as the check that Elspeth had given him. It must have fallen out when he was digging for the candle, he thought.

“That would be the rest of my day.” Alena opened the check slowly, and her eyes widened when she saw what was written on it.

“Dennis, what is this?” she repeated. Her voice was hushed and fearful. Dennis pulled in a deep breath before responding.

“Remember when I said that you wouldn’t believe me?” he asked. Alena kept silent, her attention fixed on Dennis’ face. He took another breath. “Well, this is the part where I prove it to you.”

It took a surprisingly short amount of time for Dennis to recount his experiences from the day, beginning with his trip to the curio shop. Alena listened in silence, her expression never changing, even when he described Evy’s appearance. Dennis stammered through an embarrassed moment as he talked about his fainting episode, and was intentionally vague about his altercation with Bobo, but eventually he finished the story, and slumped back into the couch as a means of punctuation.

Alena sat and stared at Dennis for what felt like hours. When she finally spoke, it was still in a subdued tone, but the fear had been replaced by something else.

“You’re taking a thousand dollars a week from that poor woman?” Alena asked. The anger startled Dennis, and he rushed to defend himself.

“I didn’t want to!” he said quickly. “She insisted that I take it. I told her that I didn’t need the money, but she was relentless!”

“You make it sound like she held you down at gunpoint,” Alena said coldly. She held the check out in front of her. “When you go back on Wednesday, you had better return this to her.”

“I don’t think she’d like that very much.”

“Well, I don’t like the idea of you conning a dying woman out of her money!” Her voice fell into a tone of disappointment. “Honestly, Dennis, you told me this was for your book. What happened to that, huh? You’re gone at least one night a week, and I hardly ever see you writing anymore.”

“Maybe you’re not looking hard enough?” Dennis ventured. He was trying to be playful, but the look on Alena’s face made him regret it immediately. “I am writing a little bit,” he asserted, “I just don’t have much to go on yet.”

“So make it up!”

“Hey, they say you should write what you know.”

Alena made an aggravated noise and stood up. She looked like she was about to storm out of the room, but she stopped and brought her hands to her temples.

“Look,” she said, turning and staring into the air like she was reading from an invisible script. “It’s bad enough that you’re still going out dressed like a character from a bad TV show.” Her eyes snapped down to glare at Dennis. “Honestly, I could deal with that if you didn’t expect me to believe this garbage about some half-dead teenager.”

“She’s all-dead, actually,” Dennis murmured.

“Whatever! It’s bullshit, either way!”

There was a pause between them. “Is it the hat?” asked Dennis.

Alena’s livid expression contorted with bewilderment. “What?”

“The hat,” he said again. “You said that I looked like a character from a bad television