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

he here to talk about? It seemed like a bad idea to say that he was here to drive her off, regardless of whether she would remember it.

“Yes?” Evy prompted. Her voice had a coy ring to it, and she pursed her lips expectantly. Dennis opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Bobo, who stepped forward with a disarming smile.

“We’re here because we need your help,” he declared. “I’m Barnaby, but you can call me Bobo.”

Evy’s expression changed to one of annoyance as she shifted her gaze upwards. “Thank you… Bobo.” Her voice held a tone that was generally reserved for inept children. “I’ll be sure to tell you if I need anything.” Her eyes flicked back to Dennis, who was still wracking his brain in an attempt to find conversational topics. “You were saying, Dennis?” she asked.

“Well,” Dennis stuttered, “I was hoping that you could answer some questions for me.” Evy let out a seductive laugh and leaned forward.

“And what,” she asked suggestively, “will you do for me in return?”

Dennis didn’t know which part was more disturbing: That he was being propositioned by a ghost, or that she would have been almost forty years his senior if she had been alive. He heard muffled laughter from behind him, and looked back to see Bobo clamping his hand across an amused grin. Dennis gave him a pointed glare and turned his attention back to Evy, who was still displaying a sultry smile and a clear view of her celestial cleavage. He wasn’t particularly familiar with the culture at the time of Evy’s death, but her behavior seemed much more well-suited to the lusty barflies that he sometimes encountered at Thoreau’s.

Probably best not to tell Luke too much about this, he thought wryly. He cleared his throat. “Well, we can discuss that later on,” Dennis said, tilting his head towards Bobo. Evy followed the motion with her eyes, and understanding registered on her face.

“Bobo, dear,” she said suddenly, batting her eyelashes once. “I’m so terribly thirsty. Would you go and find something for us to drink?”

“Oh, right away, missus,” Bobo replied in a fair approximation of a Jim Crow accent. “I jus’ get right on that.” He remained where he was, and gave Dennis a humorless smile and a shrug. Evy did not appear to notice, and once again turned back to Dennis.

“What did you want to ask me, Dennis?” Evy inquired. Then she giggled and touched a finger to her bottom lip. “You know, you remind me of Cary Grant.”

“Uh, thank you,” Dennis replied. “I think.” Evy giggled again and lounged against one side of the armchair, bringing her legs up underneath her.

“I just love the cinema,” she said with a sigh. “Don’t you?”

Dennis started to respond, but closed his mouth over the words and shook his head. “Evy, what did you do yesterday?” he asked. It was a decidedly frail attempt at a topic change, but he realized that the question might actually yield pertinent results. If nothing else, maybe he could get a handle on how Evy had died.

Then again, that would require that she provide a helpful response, which she seemed disinclined to do. She threw back her head and let out a moan of mock frustration.

“Oh, let’s not discuss anything so boring, Dennis,” she said. “All that arguing and fighting over something so silly.”

“What was silly?” Bobo interjected. Both Dennis and Evy turned to look at him. “Who was arguing?” he added.

“Where is our tea, Bobo?” Evy asked with obviously feigned patience.

“Not ready yet, ma’am,” Bobo replied. Evy rolled her eyes and gave Dennis a knowing look.

“Really, Dennis,” she chided with a patronizing smile, “I hope you don’t let him act quite so brashly towards you.” Bobo muttered something about a bruise on his head, but let the remark slide.

“Actually, I was curious about that myself,” Dennis said. “Who was arguing? About what?”

Evy sighed again, this time with genuine frustration in the sound. “It was just something to do with father’s work, of course. Does he ever talk about anything else?”

“I don’t know,” Dennis replied. “Does he?”

Evy leveled a dark look at him. “I’m not sure I like where this is going, Dennis. Why did you say you were here, exactly?” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously and she pulled herself upright. “I think perhaps it would be best if you left.”

“Now you’ve done it,” Bobo commented dryly.

“Done what?” snapped Dennis, looking over his shoulder.

“Trod too close to the fire, you did.”

“Bobo, did you not understand me when I asked you to bring us tea?” Evy demanded through a saccharine smile.

Dennis made an aggravated noise and buried his face in his hands, and he suppressed a humorless laugh when he heard Evy say “There, now, you’ve gone and made Dennis get all worked up.” Apparently, he could either endure the flirtations of a ghost, or he could get himself ousted by pissing her off. Neither option seemed to be a particularly effective method of exorcism, unless it was Dennis who was the target. He tried in vain to get the conversation back under control, but after a few more minutes, it proved to be an entirely hopeless endeavor.

“Please excuse us for a minute, Evy,” Dennis said. He rose and beckoned for Bobo to follow him. “I’ll be back soon.” Evy replied with a skeptical hum, and turned to examine a blank spot on the wall. It was dismissal enough for Dennis, and he made a hurried exit.

Back in the kitchen, the pair found Elspeth in the midst of putting dishes away. “That was certainly a fast conversation.”

“Your sister has quite the attitude, ma’am,” Bobo said.

“Yes, well, I did warn you.”

Dennis coughed softly. “You didn’t mention that she was quite so, uh…” he trailed off, searching for the word.

“Horny?” offered Bobo. Elspeth sniffed with what could have been either distaste or amusement, and finished placing the dishes in their various cabinets. Dennis considered punching Bobo, but the gesture died before it reached his hand. He was frustrated,