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

It was hard for Dennis to imagine Alena’s flamboyant partner in anything other than a state of perpetual energy. They had met during Dennis’ first awkward attempt at courting Alena, and although the two were scarcely close enough to be considered friends, Dennis enjoyed the man’s colorful and lighthearted company nonetheless.

“Is he going to be okay?” Dennis asked. “Will he wake up, I mean?”

“Nobody’s sure of anything,” whispered Alena. “They say he’s stable, but that’s all anyone will tell me.”

“Do you need me to call his family or anything?”

Alena’s shoulders quivered with her answer. “He doesn’t have any family. None that care about him. His sister still lives in Mexico, and she’s too heartless to even talk on the phone.”

“Well,” said Dennis, unsure of what else he could offer, “if you need anything, just let me know.”

Alena let out a short sigh that was punctuated by a barely-controlled sob. “I just need some space, Dennis. To cope with this. I’m sorry, it’s… it’s not you, I just need to be alone.”

“Ah,” Dennis replied. He scratched the back of his head uncomfortably. “Actually, that kind of works out.”

“What do you mean?” Her eyes were still red from crying, but Alena’s narrowing gaze was cold nonetheless.

“I was thinking that I might spend a few days away from home, is all.” He looked away, thought better of it, and fought to keep his eyes on Alena’s. “Just for a few nights, until some things blow over.”

“What things?”

This was not a time for dishonesty, Dennis decided. Nor even a time for omitting any details. “This is going to sound crazy,” he began, “but I promise, it’s all true.”

The story of Elspeth, the haunted chair, the private detective, and Harding’s advice all came out in a mess of details. Dennis had to remind himself that this was not something that his wife would be likely to believe, and the fact that he sounded deranged even to his own ears was not a promising thought. To her credit, Alena listened quietly throughout the entire account, pausing only to blow her nose on occasion.

“I know it seems like a bad horror movie,” Dennis confessed at the end of his tale, “but it all happened. Now I’m worried that Spinner might follow me here, or start investigating you, and I don’t want things to get out of control.”

“Out of control?” parroted Alena. “Out of control? Dennis, I think you’re well beyond the ability to claim that you’re in control of anything!”

“What?” Dennis stammered. Only seconds before, his wife had seemed fragile and lost. Now she was giving a passable imitation of an erupting volcano.

“Do you really believe this?” Alena shouted. Her tears were flowing again, this time out of anger rather than sadness. “Ghosts? Haunted chairs?” She forcefully blew her nose, and flung the soiled tissue to the floor. “Dennis, this isn’t funny! I don’t need this right now!”

“I’m not kidding,” replied Dennis in a deadpan voice. “Honestly.”

Alena looked like she was on the verge of screaming. “This is exactly what I was afraid would happen!” she exclaimed. “That you’d either go too far somehow and buy into all this supernatural bullshit, or that you’d get in over your head and wind up in jail!” She tore at the box of tissues in her lap. “Now you’ve done both! Dennis, honestly, your timing could not be worse if you tried!”

“I’m sorry!” Dennis pleaded. “I didn’t want to lie to you! I know things got out of hand, but I thought that it would be better if you knew!”

“Knew what?” Alena demanded. “That my husband has gone insane? That my life might be in danger?”

“Hey, now, I think that’s a bit –”

“No, don’t! Just don’t!” She took a deep, sharp breath and closed her eyes. “I need some space, Dennis, but I don’t need you disappearing. What’s really going on?”

“I told you,” replied Dennis. “There’s this detective following me, and I really think that I should spend some time away from...” He trailed off as Alena’s face tightened into a scowl.

“I can’t deal with this right now,” she said, standing. “You want to go? Fine. But you’re the one making that choice. I just knew that you wouldn’t keep your promise. Did you even think about keeping it?”

Dennis opened his mouth to reply that he had thought of it, but slammed into the icy realization that it wasn’t remotely true. The entire experience had been so hectic that Dennis had completely forgotten about his promise to make that day his last. He hoped, too late, that his confession would count for something, and realized that his last few seconds of dumb silence had prompted Alena to storm from the room.

“Wait, Alena, hang on,” said Dennis hurriedly. He moved to follow her towards the bedroom, staying a few steps behind. “I know how this sounds, but think about how I feel! I didn’t do anything wrong...” he paused for a split second, reconsidering. “Not really, anyway. Imagine what it’s like for me, knowing that you won’t believe a word that I say.”

“I don’t know which is worse,” Alena blurted. “That you’ve gone completely insane, or that you want me to believe you’re having an affair with a ghost!” With that, she slammed the door in Dennis’ face. He glared at the painted wood in anger and defeat.

“How would that even work?!”

Chapter Ten

Dennis stopped in his tracks. This was wrong. Completely, totally, and utterly wrong. When he had chosen the hotel as his sanctuary, he had possessed a clear mental picture of what the interior would look like. His mind’s image was not overly extravagant, but it still made the depressing room look much worse by comparison. He had been slowly learning to trust his intuition on these matters, and was more bothered than he cared to admit that his expectations had proved to be absolutely off-base.

He supposed he should have predicted some form of disappointment, especially after wandering the halls in