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Chapter Twenty-One: Homecoming
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324 Abercorn Chapter Twenty-Two: The Empty House
PART THREE:Behind the VeilMay 2016CHAPTER TWENTY-TWOThe Empty HouseBias’s apartment wasbeginning to feel like a prison cell. Or a coffin.He’d been staying here for a week and a half, ever since he’d discovered Harold’s body. At first it had been mere practicality, as Brad’s house had officially become a crime scene. The investigation dragged on for four days, and though the death was ultimately declared accidental—the theory being he’d merely tripped on the stairs and fallen—Ramon had asked so many detailed questions about their trip, making Brad and Bias give him separate written itineraries of everything they did while away, that Brad felt like a suspect in a murder case.Brad had not told the police, or even Bias, about the copy of Dead Don’t Dance, especially when he discovered it was not one of his author copies, seeing as they were all accounted for in his office. So where could it have come from? He supposed it might have been Harold’s own copy, but then why w
324 Abercorn Chapter Twenty-Three: A Friend in Need
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREEA Friend in NeedThe Savannah Theaterwas an Art Deco structure located on Bull Street, just off Chippewa Square. According to Bias, it was one of the oldest continually-operating theaters in the United States, though damage from fires and hurricanes over the years resulted in the building being renovated and portions completely rebuilt.An usher showed Brad and Bias to their seats, fifth row center. Once they were settled, Brad said, “These are pretty prime seats.”Bias nodded. “It pays to know someone in the show.”“I couldn’t tell you the last time I’ve been to the theater. I’m looking forward to this.”“I suggest you keep your expectations low.”Brad turned to him. “You know something I don’t?”“Truthfully, I’ve seen this show once before, back before Becca joined the group.”“It’s bad?”“I wouldn’t say badexactly,” Bias said. “Just very white.”Brad laughed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”“Look, I know we’re white, but this show is supe
324 Abercorn Chapter Twenty-Four: The Flesh-and-Blood Ghost
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOURThe Flesh-and-Blood Ghost“You have tounderstand what this land means to my family,” she started. “I grew up hearing stories from my grandmother about how our ancestors were buried here, people who had been forced to come to this country in chains and treated like beasts of burden. Then, when they died, either from mistreatment or being worked to death or in some cases taking their own lives to try and find freedom in the afterlife, they were thrown in unmarked graves in a slave cemetery that no one cared for. As if to add insult to injury, when the city began to expand, they built right on top of the graves. They didn’t bother moving the bodies. Why would they? They didn’t even know whose bones were whose. What would have been the point?”On that subject, Brad wasn’t certain of the point of this little history lesson, but he kept his silence. The gun provided ample motivation to be an attentive student.“As a little girl, my grandmother used to walk me do
324 Abercorn Epilogue: New Dreams
EPILOGUE:New DreamsJune 2017The house rested there on the corner of Abercorn and Wayne like a creature that had lived a long life and had finally earned a quiet respite, sleeping soundly with its champion standing guard.Brad smiled at the thought as he walked through Crenshaw Square. His eyes drifted from the house down to Bias, sitting at the booth on the sidewalk out front. Engrossed in a book, Bias didn’t even notice Brad until the man was halfway across the street.With a wide grin, Bias rose from the stool and stepped around the booth, walking with the slight limp that he’d have the rest of his life.Still, Brad thought, it could have been worse. It could have been so much worse.The two men embraced each other as the summer sun embraced the both of them in arms of warmth and light.“How was business today?” Brad asked.“Busy, busy. I’d say we’re fast becoming one of the hottest home tours in Savannah. Giving the Sorrel-Weed house a run for its money.”As if to prove
324 Abercorn Prologue: Dream House
PROLOGUE:Dream HouseJune 2006The house crouched there on the corner of Abercorn and Wayne like something alive but dormant, a hibernating beast, which may soon awaken and swallow the world whole.Standing across the street in Crenshaw Square, Brad Storm thought he would describe the house in those terms in one of the horror stories he liked writing. Despite the tour guide’s eerie tales about the place’s rather macabre history, Brad only saw a gorgeous Greek Revival mansion. Sure, the house was neglected and in serious need of repairs, but the bones were sturdy. Brad could use his hyperactive imagination to see beyond the busted windows and missing shutters, the moldering brick and general air of abandonment, and envision the house as it must have been in its glory.The building stood three stories tall, with slightly curving side-steps leading up to the main entrance on the second floor. The details were somewhat obscured in the dark, but on the right side there seemed to be a
324 Abercorn Chapter One: The Boy in the Book Lady
PART ONE:New Boy in TownMarch 2016CHAPTER ONEThe Boy in the Book LadyBrad was browsingthe Mystery section in Book Lady on Liberty Street when he noticed the boy staring at him. Well, not a boy exactly. He was probably in his early twenties, more of a young man. The older Brad got, though, the younger everyone else looked to him.Jesus, you’re only thirty-six, stop casting yourself in the role of a geriatric. Although you are closer to forty than twenty. Hell, you’re closer to forty than thirty ... Blocking out his own inner voice, Brad glanced back toward the staircase lined with stacks of books. The young man still stood there, practically in the children’s section, still staring at him. He wore a pair of capri pants and a gray hooded sweatshirt, his black hair done up in meticulous bed-head, ample time spent to make it appear he spent no time on his appearance. Mild amusement marked his face. Instinctively, Brad reached up and brushed at his chin, wonde
324 Abercorn Chapter Two: The Runaway Nectarines
CHAPTER TWOThe Runaway NectarinesAs Brad made his way back across Crenshaw Square, he silently berated himself for not taking his car. He hadn’t thought he’d need it since everything in the Historic District—scratch that, downtown—was within easy walking distance, but what seemed like a few short blocks when you were unburdened suddenly felt a lot longer when you hauled six plastic bags full of household supplies.Weary as he was, he still paused across the street and surveyed his new home. He remembered standing in this exact spot ten years ago, fantasizing about owning the house. At the time, it had seemed nothing more than an impossible dream, but here he was, literally living the dream.The house was no longer the dilapidated beauty it had been before. No more mold creeping down the masonry like a rash, no more broken glass, brand new shutters and roof. The restoration hadn’t been cheap, but 324 Abercorn was once again the grand manor Brad had known all those years ago. He co
324 Abercorn Chapter Three: Phantom in the Basement
CHAPTER THREEPhantom in the BasementBrad was upstairsin his bedroom, unpacking clothes and putting them away, when he heard voices. Soft and indistinct. He couldn’t make out any actual words, but he definitely heard them murmuring.After placing a couple of sweaters on the top shelf of the cedar wardrobe, he walked over to the bay window looking out on the front of the house. He settled on the cushioned window seat and pulled aside the curtain, where he saw a group gathered in the square. This was the third ghost tour he’d noticed since it got dark, and it was not even nine o’clock in the evening. He supposed this was something he would have to get used to. Then again, maybe once the house was occupied for a while, its reputation as an evil place would fade and the tours would lose interest and find other venues on which to focus their attention. He could hope.An older gentleman, dressed in a white suit complete with wide-brimmed hat, hosted this tour. The man probably tho
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324 Abercorn Epilogue: New Dreams
EPILOGUE:New DreamsJune 2017The house rested there on the corner of Abercorn and Wayne like a creature that had lived a long life and had finally earned a quiet respite, sleeping soundly with its champion standing guard.Brad smiled at the thought as he walked through Crenshaw Square. His eyes drifted from the house down to Bias, sitting at the booth on the sidewalk out front. Engrossed in a book, Bias didn’t even notice Brad until the man was halfway across the street.With a wide grin, Bias rose from the stool and stepped around the booth, walking with the slight limp that he’d have the rest of his life.Still, Brad thought, it could have been worse. It could have been so much worse.The two men embraced each other as the summer sun embraced the both of them in arms of warmth and light.“How was business today?” Brad asked.“Busy, busy. I’d say we’re fast becoming one of the hottest home tours in Savannah. Giving the Sorrel-Weed house a run for its money.”As if to prove
324 Abercorn Chapter Twenty-Four: The Flesh-and-Blood Ghost
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOURThe Flesh-and-Blood Ghost“You have tounderstand what this land means to my family,” she started. “I grew up hearing stories from my grandmother about how our ancestors were buried here, people who had been forced to come to this country in chains and treated like beasts of burden. Then, when they died, either from mistreatment or being worked to death or in some cases taking their own lives to try and find freedom in the afterlife, they were thrown in unmarked graves in a slave cemetery that no one cared for. As if to add insult to injury, when the city began to expand, they built right on top of the graves. They didn’t bother moving the bodies. Why would they? They didn’t even know whose bones were whose. What would have been the point?”On that subject, Brad wasn’t certain of the point of this little history lesson, but he kept his silence. The gun provided ample motivation to be an attentive student.“As a little girl, my grandmother used to walk me do
324 Abercorn Chapter Twenty-Three: A Friend in Need
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREEA Friend in NeedThe Savannah Theaterwas an Art Deco structure located on Bull Street, just off Chippewa Square. According to Bias, it was one of the oldest continually-operating theaters in the United States, though damage from fires and hurricanes over the years resulted in the building being renovated and portions completely rebuilt.An usher showed Brad and Bias to their seats, fifth row center. Once they were settled, Brad said, “These are pretty prime seats.”Bias nodded. “It pays to know someone in the show.”“I couldn’t tell you the last time I’ve been to the theater. I’m looking forward to this.”“I suggest you keep your expectations low.”Brad turned to him. “You know something I don’t?”“Truthfully, I’ve seen this show once before, back before Becca joined the group.”“It’s bad?”“I wouldn’t say badexactly,” Bias said. “Just very white.”Brad laughed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”“Look, I know we’re white, but this show is supe
324 Abercorn Chapter Twenty-Two: The Empty House
PART THREE:Behind the VeilMay 2016CHAPTER TWENTY-TWOThe Empty HouseBias’s apartment wasbeginning to feel like a prison cell. Or a coffin.He’d been staying here for a week and a half, ever since he’d discovered Harold’s body. At first it had been mere practicality, as Brad’s house had officially become a crime scene. The investigation dragged on for four days, and though the death was ultimately declared accidental—the theory being he’d merely tripped on the stairs and fallen—Ramon had asked so many detailed questions about their trip, making Brad and Bias give him separate written itineraries of everything they did while away, that Brad felt like a suspect in a murder case.Brad had not told the police, or even Bias, about the copy of Dead Don’t Dance, especially when he discovered it was not one of his author copies, seeing as they were all accounted for in his office. So where could it have come from? He supposed it might have been Harold’s own copy, but then why w
324 Abercorn Chapter Twenty-One: Homecoming
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONEHomecomingAfter parking thecar in the garage, Brad stopped at the apartment and knocked. When no one answered, he checked his watch. Just after one in the afternoon, kind of early for Harold to be out and about. Then again, knowing Harold, it was entirely possible he was still sleeping.With an affectionate smile, Brad crossed to the gate and let himself into the side yard. His luggage was still in the car, but he’d bring that in later. As he strolled across the veranda, enjoying the warm sun beating down on his face, he paused to take in the beauty of the yard. Mathew had done a great job of turning this little patch of land into a verdant landscape. Sago palms lined the fence, and the gardenia was in full bloom, the intoxicating aroma of the tiny flowers filled his nostrils. He loved that smell, like honeysuckle but not quite so sweet. He felt buoyant, an optimism filling him like helium in a balloon. In fact, he felt as if he could float right up over th
324 Abercorn Chapter Twenty: The Squatter
CHAPTER TWENTYThe SquatterHarold knew heshouldn’t still be in the house. He’d filled Phantom’s food bowl and milk saucer twenty minutes ago, and there was really nothing left to do here.Except explore.He liked that word better than snoop, although he suspected that one was actually more accurate. Still, it wasn’t as if he were stealing anything. He simply had a natural, insatiable curiosity about how other people lived.He started upstairs in the main bedroom. He didn’t rummage through the drawers, just opened them and glanced inside. Turned out Brad was a boxer-brief man, and his socks were all neatly balled up in a fastidious fashion that suggested an anal-retentiveness that bordered on OCD. The drawer in the nightstand next to the bed revealed that Brad favored Lifestyles brand condoms and KY lubricant. He checked the bathroom next, zeroing in on the medicine cabinet. Speed Stick Deodorant, Colgate toothpaste, Acqua di Gio cologne. Some aspirin, Band-Aids, even a bott
324 Abercorn Chapter Nineteen: Art by the Beach
CHAPTER NINETEENArt by the BeachBrad woke upbefore Bias. The young man lay on his side, dark hair spread on the pillow like an ink stain, snoring softly. Brad watched him for a moment in the scant, early-morning sunlight that filtered through the window, then slowly untangled himself from the sheets and slid out of bed. In just a pair of sweats, he left Bias sleeping and walked down the hall into the kitchen.The house was nice. Two bedrooms, each with their own full bath; large front room with built-in bookshelves and a brick fireplace; kitchen/dining room with stainless steel appliances and a butcher block table in the “shabby chic” style where people paid a lot of money for things made to look old and worn. The house was literally on the beach, the back deck stretching out like a pier, with stairs that led down to the sand only a few feet from where the ocean washed up on shore in gently rolling waves.The clock in the kitchen told him it was not quite seven, and he busi
324 Abercorn Chapter Eighteen: Packing Up and Heading Out
CHAPTER EIGHTEENPacking Up and Heading OutBrad knocked onthe door and stepped back, waiting. He could hear music from inside the apartment, something with a fast techno beat and a nasally female voice whining out lyrics he couldn’t quite comprehend. After a moment when there was no answer, he knocked again, louder this time.The volume of the music lowered slightly and then the door opened to frame the comical sight of Harold in a fuzzy pink bathrobe and a matching towel wrapped atop his head like a turban. “Sorry love, Titty’s getting ready for her evening out on the town.”Glancing at his watch, Brad said, “It’s only half past noon.”“Honey, it is a time-consuming process to create true beauty. Now what can I do for you, Mr. Landlord?”“I’m about to head out to pick up Bias. We’ll be gone until Monday afternoon.”“Y’all have a good trip and be sure to bring me back a souvenir. Something expensive and sparkly that dangles from my earlobes.”“I’ll keep that in mind. Now
324 Abercorn Chapter Seventeen: Picnic Among the Dead
CHAPTER SEVENTEENPicnic Among the DeadBias spread theblanket next to the Upchurch grave, the one with the tombstone shaped like a baby grand piano, the Wilmington River spread out to his left. He opened the oversized wicker basket and started setting out the Tupperware containers. Harold stood a foot away, watching the whole enterprise with a skeptical expression.“Baby, you know Titty loves a good picnic,” he said, “but I’m not sure that a graveyard is the appropriate locale for such an event.”Neisha lowered herself to one corner of the blanket, sitting on her knees. She removed a carrot stick from a Ziploc baggie and nibbled on it. “Actually, if you look back in history, cemeteries were often used as public parks and gathering places. Families would make a day of it, visiting the final resting place of their ancestors and enjoying the fresh air. They’d have picnics, and the kids would play among the tombstones. That’s why, when the city made this land a public cemetery i
