How can I say no to that?
You do the same. If you think my writing’s crap, then you’ll know I’m not worth the oxygen. But think about it: if it’s good, if I’m really good, then we can rule the world together.
You’re pretty full of yourself, aren’t you?
Life’s too short to waste it on people who’re beneath you…and I look at you and I can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, you’re above.
Life is too short. But it doesn’t have to be.
I’ll…think about it.
Don’t think. Just take the leap with me. There’s a darkness in you…isn’t there? I bet no one else has ever seen it before, or wanted to. Maybe you don’t even see it in yourself.
But you can, I say—and with his eyes, now mine, I see that darkness for myself. See it radiating off me in pearlescent waves of black. He always saw me like this. This is who I am.
Silas wants me to see this. Experience this. He’s showing me our life together, how our existences intertwine. This is his way of telling me that he’s here, still here, that he never left. He will never leave me—he loves me, forgives me—as long as I stay inside this house.
Two spirits, two souls, communing. It’s beautiful. So fucking beautiful. This is better than sex. This is being touched by God.
“Silas,” I call out to the candlelit living room. “I’m here…I’m home.”
ringside seats
“I’d like you to meet Marcia,” Tobias says. I’m totally thrown by the frosted blonde woman before me. She’s old enough to be friends with my mother, though I can tell from her choice in clothes that they’d never be in the same social circle. This woman strikes me as some kind of working mom from the north side of Richmond—a small business owner. She could own a clothing boutique in Cary-town. I’ve probably shopped there for all I know.
“Hello.” Marcia holds out her hand to me. I can’t help but dwell on her manicured fingers, the gold wedding band dully glowing in the surrounding candlelight.
She shouldn’t be here. Her presence throws our home out of balance. She’s harshing my haunting. High schoolers are one thing—college kids, sure—but Marcia is a goddamn adult. She’s dressed in activewear, like she’s on her way to hot yoga after our drug-induced séance.
“Marcia is going to be staying with us for a while,” Tobias says. “She’s hoping to make contact with her son.” This is how Tobias introduces new houseguests: by who we’ve lost.
Marcia’s lips tighten, like she’s trying to hide how much it hurts to hear someone else bring up her boy.
“I wonder if you might show her around? Make Marcia feel at home.”
“Sure.”
Tobias rests a consoling hand on Marcia’s shoulder. “Did you bring a sleeping bag?”
She nods, eyes wide as Tobias gives her his full attention.
“The money? Just for food and water while you’re here…”
“Yes.”
“Great. You’re doing great, Marcia. Now…can I have your cell phone?”
“My…?”
“It’s important we restrict contact with the outside world.” Tobias sounds so calm. So in control. How can Marcia say no? “There’s no telling how long this process will take. It could be a day, it could be five, but until we plant your seed, we need to seal ourselves off.”
This is a house rule for everyone. Tobias demands we sever ties. No phone calls to Mom and Dad, no friends or family. The people calling this house home are our family now. Give yourself over to Tobias and in return, he’ll offer what you want—need—more than anything.
Marcia unearths her cell from her purse and hands it to Tobias, who promptly powers it down and slips it into his pocket. “You’re not alone anymore,” he says. “Your son—”
“Sean.”
“Sean is out there. Trust me, Marcia, we’ll find him. We’ll bring him home.”
“You can really do that?” Every word is weighed down with desperation.
“We carry these ghosts with us, wherever we go. By giving them a house to haunt, we know where they’ll be. We can always visit. All it takes is a key. That’s what I’m offering.”
“He’ll be here?” The tears are already pooling in Marcia’s eyes.
“All it takes is opening that door and letting them in. Nobody knows you’re here, right?”
Marcia shakes her head, no no no.
“What about your husband?”
“We’re separated. He doesn’t…doesn’t believe…”
“Good. We can get started right away. I’ve got a private session scheduled for you this evening. I want you to settle in and meet some of the other people here. Make friends, okay?”
But keep the old, I think to myself.
Marcia nods, even smiles through her tears. She wipes her eyes with her sleeve. “Okay.”
This feels wrong. Seeing Tobias tap into this woman’s mourning is wrong. I still feel Silas lingering within me, the residue of his spirit coating my insides like honey, but there’s a cognitive dissonance to seeing others go through the same experience. Ever since I came—
home
—back, people have been coming and going. Strangers knock on the door and say they want to get haunted. Tobias sells them Ghost and sends them on their merry way. I can hear the commercial jingling through my head now, as if it’s an ad campaign put together by the McMartin Agency. Maybe they’d give me the account: Now you too, kids, can dose on Ghost in the comfort of your own home! Ghost now comes in handy travel snack packs for easy séances with your lost loved ones. Turn your own home into a haunted house today!
Others stay. Those who need Tobias’s spiritual guidance can get the elite pass, which includes exclusive sittings with the man himself.
Marcia is our first walk-in. How did she even hear about this house?
“How long have you been here?” she asks. She trails up the stairs behind me as I give her the grand tour.
“Not long.” I have no idea if that’s true. How many days has it been? Do I even remember? My head feels so foggy. I haven’t been outside in what seems like forever.
“Who’re you here for?” Marcia’s question makes my skin prickle. I don’t know how to engage with her. Something about her status as an adult—who should know better than to get mixed up in this kind of shit in the first place—makes me want to call her ma’am.
“A friend.” I want to tell Marcia to run while she still can. Before it’s too late. But I know she won’t listen. If her grief brought her this far, nothing will change her mind.
I know that look. We all have it.
Silas just wanted to see his mom again, Tobias explained to me. That’s how this all started. Silas had stumbled on a Reddit thread about an obscure hallucinogenic purported to be so potent, it actually allows you to see the dead. There were a few footnotes in anthropological texts about the Indigenous peoples of Australia using the mushroom to open up corners of their minds never accessed, allowing them to pull back the veil that separates the living from the dead.
We all assumed Silas was on some run-of-the-mill drug. Heroin or cocaine. We had no idea. By the time I sprung Silas out of rehab, he’d been off his spirits for days. No wonder he was so strung out. He was seeing ghosts he didn’t want to see.
If the drug allows us a glimpse into the realm of the dead, Ghost allows the dead to glimpse back into the realm of the living…and it turns out they’re just as hungry for it as people are. Silas needed a safe house, a clean house, so he reached out to Tobias for help.
They ended up here. In Hopewell.
The rest is history, as they say. I can’t help but wonder what books will be written about Silas and Tobias. Their little burgeoning business.
I lead Marcia to the master bedroom, where Adriano and Stephanie have shacked up. Let them share a room together, I think. “Here you go.”
Adriano is busy spray-painting the walls. I’m not going to critique his tagging style, or lack thereof, but I’m not impressed.
Marcia hesitates at the door. She wants to say more. “He wasn’t even a year old. One morning I woke up and found him in his crib and his body was all blue.”