Roommates -- Part Two

Morning. Thank God. Sunlight. Day. Things never seem so bad in day.
So what have we learned from this experience?
They only come out at night. Okay, they don't only come out at night. But this one does.
So all I have to do is not sleep for the entire time I live here.
Perfect.

Maybe I should get up and make coffee for Mom.
No wait, I think I hear her now.
In the kitchen? How’d she get past me?
Oh. Oh no.

“We had bacon and eggs for breakfast. Usually we just have porridge. But on Sunday we have bacon and eggs.”

How nice for you.

Cassie almost said it out loud, but stopped herself. Bad enough that she had to live with the thing, she wouldn't start talking to it. Not unless it was absolutely necessary. She'd learned that much at least. You don't talk to them unless you really need them to start talking back.

And you never need them to start talking back.

And apparently you're capable of appearing in daylight as well.
Great. Maybe I can just trade apartments with Gilhen. He seems to like this one.

She pushed herself up on one arm and stared blearily at the kitchen. Nothing she could see, and no spidey senses tingling. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

Good. It's gone.

This would have been comforting, except that Cassie was pretty sure it would reappear. Although sometimes the less stable ones just winked right out of existence and never came back. Or, at least, that's how it had happened in the hospital. Sometimes they'd just stopped in the middle of a sentence and disappeared and never came back. Maybe that's what had happened this time. Probably not.

Cassie didn't really know how it worked in houses.

What I really need is to get out of here. Even just for a little while.

She got up and changed quietly, pulling on her shorts from the day before rather than going into her bedroom to get fresh clothes. She didn't want to risk waking her mother up. With some difficulty she found a pen and left a note on the couch on some of the paper they'd used for packing. "Gone for a walk Back soon."

She hesitated at the cane. Even after nearly a year with it she still thought it made her look like a little old lady. Nobody her age should need a cane. Except that she did. Or, at least on bad days she did. She probably always would. It made people ask questions, too, and then they felt bad when they got the answers. Of course, it was worse when they didn't ask but wanted to and their eyes flicked from the cane, to her face, and back to the cane again. Wondering.

Her hip and leg were bothering her. She took the cane.

A block away from the house she could already feel her mood lightening. It was early still, and a Saturday, so there weren't many people out. Cassie walked slowly, enjoying being alone and taking in the sights of her new neighbourhood. It was an older area, the houses covered in wooden shingles and painted bright colours. Some of the buildings, like hers, had been converted into two or three flats. With the university right around the corner, there was money to be had making over and renting out old family homes. These apartment buildings tended to look a little more run down than the rest, their paint peeling, and flags and ragged bed sheets hanging in the windows as curtains. Her house didn't look like that, of course. It had been her Great-grandfather's before it had been her grandfather's and there was still a certain amount of family pride in keeping it up. Plus her grandparents, and then her grandmother had kept living there. They'd kept it up.

She realized she was headed in the direction of the main street and decided to pick up coffee rather than make it. Plus she could get something for breakfast as well. There was still nothing in the apartment, and going for groceries was on the to-do list for the day. As was visiting her grandmother. Then, the next afternoon Mom would fly back to Newfoundland, leaving the car. And then life would really start again.

It's almost like won't believe I'm really here until I'm on my own. In my own place.

With my very own roommate that no one else can see.

That last thought hadn't been intended and Cassie forced herself to think about other things as she went through the motions of getting coffee. What she'd need to set up the office, and a tentative grocery list. And all the re-reading she wanted to get done before the school year started. And painting like Gil had mentioned. She wondered whether or not it would really be all right to tear down some of the tackier wallpaper and do over the place in her own style. Would the downstairs neighbours be noisy? But her grandmother had said they were "nice boys". So not noisy then.

Maybe they were good-looking. She smiled at the possibility. Maybe she'd meet people again. Have a boyfriend. Heck, just have friends again. Have more than one friend again. That might be a rather novel feeling. Her university friends had dispersed to different cities, mostly Toronto and Calgary; gone in search of jobs that paid more than minimum wage. And Jeff rarely e-mailed or called, though he tried to make up for it on the rare occasions he was in town. He was probably in Halifax more than St. John's, actually. Maybe she'd see more of Jeff. Now there was...

"Umm...would you like some help with that?"

Cassie paused, key in the lock of the door. She was leaning against the door jamb, cane against the wall beside her. Her weight was on her good leg, with her bad leg lifted slightly and bent, supporting the coffee and donuts while she manipulated the keys.

"Sure. Thanks." Cassie smiled. This must be one of the downstairs neighbours. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, with short, dark hair. He was tall and broad-shouldered and wearing glasses. Nice-looking. This might not be such a bad building to be in after all. He stepped forward to take the coffee and donuts from her.

"You must be Mrs. Hodges' granddaughter. She told us you'd be moving in."

"I'm Cassie." She smiled at him. "You must be one of those 'nice boys from downstairs'".

"Graham." He inclined his head at her. "Say, is your grandmother all right? She didn't say why she had to move out. We were kind of wondering about her. "

"Oh, she's fine." Cassie said. "She's moved into one of those apartments for Seniors. You know, on-site doctors, no stairs, " Cassie gestured at the flight leading up to her apartment. "It's a lot of work getting up and down when you're eighty, I guess."

"I'll bet." Graham nodded. Their eyes met, and Cassie smiled. Graham shifted his weight a little, then held out the donuts for her. "Listen, I'm just on my way to work, but if you need any help with anything, or whatever, just call. Maybe I can give you a tour of the neighbourhood, or something."

"Yeah. That'd be great." Cassie nodded enthusiastically. "Thanks for the help."

"Hey. No problem. I'll see you around." Graham waved as he headed down the drive.

"Yeah. Bye!" Cassie called, waving with her keys before she went into her apartment.

I wonder if I just agreed to go on a date with him, or if he's just being friendly.

To Cassie's surprise her mother wasn't awake yet. Though Cassie was sure she would be soon. On the other hand, Cassie felt like taking a nap. She looked at the sofa and sighed inwardly. She was going to have to sleep sometime, and it was going to have to be here. Unless she asked Gilhen if she could stay at his place for a while. He wouldn't ask why. She considered it for a few seconds, then realized how tired she must be.

No. I'm going to deal with this. That thing is not forcing me out of my own apartment.
I've dealt with sleeping with them in the room before, I'll do it again.
I'm going to stop seeing these things. They are going to stop bothering me.
And I'm going to start by getting rid of this one.
Once I figure out how.

Angry now, she put the coffee in the kitchen and went back to her bed on the sofa. She deliberately kicked off her sneakers, laid down and forced herself to close her eyes. She knew she was still listening for the ghost, though, still waiting for the half-noise, half-smell that told her when one was nearby.

No good. Count to a hundred. One. Two. Three...
Maybe there's a book or something that can tell me what I need to know.
Or someone who knows what this is. But how do you even find someone?
Yellow pages under hauntings? Ghosts?
Pests?
What the hell was I thinking? Why didn't I expect this?
What was that noise? Was that her?
No. Nothing. Just some old-house noise.
Go. To. Sleep.
One. Two. Three. Four...

***

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