After Life

by Dash   permanentlymatts@yahoo.com

12/24/04

 

Note:  This story will make MUCH more sense if you’ve read The Guarantee, also found on this site.

 

Thanks,

D

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Standing up and stretching as the credits for the Mormon Tabernacle Choir’s Christmas special started across the screen, Charles yawned loudly, not bothering to cover his mouth. 

 

“Nice set of tonsils you’ve got there,” Frank said with a laugh, shaking his head and looking up from his seat on the couch.

 

The other man grinned back, “You should know, you’ve examined them enough.”

 

Next to Franklin, Robert laughed as he patted his friend on his back.  “I think you’ve been outed.”

 

Andrew laughed, “Oh yeah, never once suspected you two were anything more than roommates.  I’m just shocked speechless.”

 

“Well, you always were a bit slow Andy,” Charles said with a patient smile.  He walked over and patted the younger man’s head.  “But that’s OK, we’ll still keep you around.”

 

Jerking his head away, Andrew rolled his eyes.  “How nice, considering it’s more my house than yours.”

 

“I was here first,” the other man shot back.

 

“I was here last.”

 

"I was here longer."

 

"I could still be living here," Andy said with a grin.  "Well, maybe not still but longer than you did."

 

“I bought this land; cleared this land; built the original house and farmed the fields,” Charles said with a smile.  “If it weren’t for me, my boy, you’d be speaking the Queen’s English in some little village somewhere in England and raising sheep and cows.”

 

Frowning for a second, Andrew shrugged and then laughed and winked.  “You win.”

 

Robert stood up, shaking his head, “That’s my lover.  He knows when he’s beaten.”  He glanced between Franklin and Andrew.   “You both ready to go?”

 

“Without a doubt, it’s 10, I think that should be late enough, don’t you?” Franklin asked as he stood up.  “These old guys turn in early and we don’t want him actually asleep, if possible

 

Charles looked between his three roommates, “Where you going?” Then, remembering the conversation from a couple of days ago, he shook his head, “Are you actually going to go do something to Braxton?”

 

Andrew grinned and gave an embarrassed shrug, “Nothing bad, really.  You don’t want to come, I’m sure of it.”

 

“No,” Franklin said with a grin, patting his friend on his shoulder as he passed him heading toward the door. “You don’t want to come, Charlie. It’s just a little Scrooge’ing.”

 

Charles glanced at Robert with a frown. “You’re spearheading this?” he asked.  “You’re actually going to go through with this.”

 

“I wouldn’t say that I’m spearheading this little operation,” Robert corrected, glancing over at his lover.  “But I don’t want him going alone either with just Frank. Come with us, it’ll be fun.  You could use a good laugh.”

 

“Plus,” Andrew said with a grin, draping an arm over Charles’ shoulder, “it really should be three different ghosts to do it nice and proper.” He smiled again as he nodded again, warming up to the idea, “Yeah, you should come.  You know you want to.” The excitement was clear in his voice as he continued, “Come on Charlie, it’ll be fun.  It's Christmas time, it’s perfect and you have to admit that he’s got it coming to him.  You read that article in the paper, same as we all did.”

 

Frank nodded, “The guy is just begging to be shown the error of his ways.”

 

The oldest ghost looked between his friends and gave a small smile, “No thanks guys.  I feel like staying home right now.  I’m sure the guy deserves it and I’m sure you’ll have a good time but it’s not for me right now.”

 

Robert studied him for a moment before nodding, “OK, if you’re sure.”  At Charles’s nod, he nodded back, reaching out and patting the other man’s shoulder, “We’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

 

“I’ll be here waiting for you,” he said with a smile.

 

“You sure?” Frank asked softly as Andrew and Robert left the room.

 

Kissing him quickly on the lips, Charles smiled, “Go. Have fun.  Don’t get in trouble.”

 

 

 

"Ready?" Andrew whispered as he glanced into the darkened living room of Saul Braxton and saw the older man dozing on a richly embroidered velvet couch in front of a dark plasma TV.

 

Robert nodded, shifting the chains he was carrying a little higher on his shoulders.  "Let's get this show on the road.  These things are heavy.  And cold."

 

Next to him, Frank chuckled, "That's why I volunteered to be the guide, all you have to do is carry a candle."  Blowing on the wick for a moment, he smiled as the flame sprang to life.  "I wish Charlie had come and we could have done the full trio that way."

 

"Yeah," Andrew agreed softly.  "You know how he gets around the holidays though.  I think it's just a hard time for him."

 

The blond man snorted. "Not to be unsympathetic or anything,” Robert said. “But if anyone should be all mopey around this time, it's me and you don't see me sitting at home staring into the fire or roaming the cemetery."

 

"We know, Bob," Frank said with a smile.  Turning to Andrew he said, "I'm going in."

 

The other man grinned back and nodded, "Go for it."

 

Closing his eyes for a brief second and concentrating, Frank slowly faded from sight.  The lit candle began to creep down the hall and then into the living room, casting its light on the rich and opulent room.

 

The two other ghosts peeked around the doorframe and watched its slow progression through the room.

 

The candle stopped and seemed to hover in mid-air in front of the sleeping man, waiting.

 

Saul snorted in his sleep and shifted on the couch, burrowing his face deeper into the blanket covering him. 

 

The candle dipped and turned slightly as if Frank had glanced back at his friends before turning back to the sleeping man.

 

A loud thump shot through the room and the couch jumped slightly, waking Saul up from his sleep with a loud snort and cry.

 

Sitting up, the older man looked wildly around the room, lips smacking and eyes blinking in disorientation for a moment before his eyes finally fixed on the floating candle in front of him.   He went very still at the sight, and sat motionless on the couch, eyes wide and locked on the candle.  Blinking once, very deliberately and then slowly opened his eyes again.   Swallowing loudly when the candle did not disappear, he sniffed and looked nervously around the empty room again.  "Who's there?" he whispered.

 

Frank slowly began to appear, first as light wisps of smoke and fog that gradually condensed and took human form.  "Your savior," he said in a low, drawn out whisper.

 

Saul jerked up, gasping at the emerging figure before him.  "Who are you?" he repeated.

 

The ghost frowned and shook his head.  "This is going to be a really long night, Saul if I have to be repeating myself every time.  Let's try to pay attention, here."  At the other man's nod, he smiled and said, "As I said, I am your savior.  I'm here to rescue you and save you from a life of torment and pain."

 

"Torment and pain?" the man repeated.  "Who are you?"

 

Frank glanced at the open doorway again and rolled his eyes in the direction of Andrew and Robert.  Turning back to Saul, he continued, dropping his voice to a low whisper, "You will be visited tonight by two ghosts."

 

"I thought it was suppose to be three?" Saul asked, looking around the room before turning back to Frank.  "Three, right?"

 

The ghost paused for a moment before continuing, "No, two.  They are the ghost of Christmas Present …."

 

At the sound of his cue, Andrew slowly began to walk into the room, dragging a dead tree limb behind him.  A gas mask covered his face and his clothes were dusty and the tree limb left a trail of dead leaves across the polished hard wood.  Standing the large limb up on its cut stump, he moaned and shook the dead branches for a few seconds before falling silent.

 

"And the ghost of Christmas Future," Frank continued.

 

Walking into the room, Robert dragged his large chains across the floor, moaning and wailing as he made his way toward the couch.  He was wearing a gray sweatshirt emblazoned with Saul's construction company logo with a prison number underneath, and he carried a stack of folded newspapers under one arm.  Standing next to Andrew, he continued to moan softly and rattle his chains.

 

"Your construction company is guilty of destroying a 200 year old grove of trees and paving one of the last large green spaces inside the city limits," Franklin said softly.  "Your bulldozers ripped apart the land, destroying the homes of countless animals and creating huge run off problems that polluted Peachtree Creek.  You’ve done irrevocable damage to the environment of the community you say you are improving."

 

Andrew moaned again and shook his tree branch.

 

Rattling the chains, Robert groaned and sobbed.

 

Staring at them, Saul swallowed again and then coughed.  “I think your information is incorrect.  We work hard with the EPA and the county commissioners ….”

 

“To ensure that you meet all of the federal and local building codes and environmental protection requirements,” Franklin said, interrupting.  He took a step closer to the seated man, leaned down and smiled slightly.  “We’ve read your annual report.  But more importantly, Saul,” he said, his voice growing low again, “we’ve been watching you and have seen what you’ve done and we know what will happen to you.  We know about the bank accounts, we know about the bribes, we know about the threats and the day workers you’ve been picking up and what's happened to three of them.”  Locking eyes with him, Franklin watched him flinch as Robert moaned and rattled his chains again.  “We also know what will happen to you.  Do you want to speak to the ghost of Christmas Future?”

 

Saul nodded silently.

 

Walking over to Robert, Franklin held his candle next to him and said, “Will you show Saul what the future holds for him if he continues with his corruption?”

 

Robert nodded silently and unfolded the newspaper he was carrying.  Holding it up so the headline could be clearly read, he eyed the seated man.

 

“Families Sue Braxton Construction,” Franklin read out loud, his candle illuminating the large words clearly in the dark room.  “Looks like you’re going to make several little kids sick, Saul.”  Shaking his head, he tisked his tongue, “That’s not going to be good for the bottom line.”

 

Saul gave a small half shrug, "Those lawsuits are basically impossible to win.  It might cost me some in legal fees but that'll be it."  He glanced in Frank's direction, "How about I settle out of court, sealed settlement with no admission of guilt of course, with the families.  I know nothing I've done made anyone sick but I don't mind giving to charity."

 

The tree limb shook again, sending a fresh shower of dead leaves across the carpet.  "You're doing plenty to make people sick," Andrew moaned.

 

Glancing in his direction, Saul frowned, "Be careful with that please and would you mind moving the stump off the carpet?  I'm worried you're going to be ripping a hole in it."

 

Andrew shook the tree limb again but obediently moved it back several feet so it rested on the hardwood.

 

Shuffling the papers, Robert held up another headline lit by the candle light.

 

"Developer Indicted in Tax Fraud," Franklin read, glancing at Saul.

 

The older man gave another small shrug, coughing nervously.  "So I pay a fine and work it out with the IRS.  They're just after money."

 

Robert smiled as he let the paper fall open, revealing the smaller headline on the bottom half of the page.

 

"So sure about that, Saul?" Franklin asked with a grin.  Nodding toward the smaller headline, he read out loud, "IRS Finds Secret Accounts:  All Assets Seized."

 

"It's just money," he said confidently.  "I started with nothing and built my business.  I can do it again."  He stood up, "You're not scaring me.  I'm not doing anything wrong and my friends will protect me."

 

Revealing the next headline, Robert moaned and rattled his chains again.

 

"You've done plenty wrong," Andrew said as he rattled the tree branch again.

 

"Braxton Sentenced to Fifteen Years," Franklin said with a smile.  "That's dated four years from now, Saul. You've got less than four years before this little world of yours comes crumbling down around your ears.  Less than four years before you're penniless and lonely and forced to accept the consequences of your actions."

 

Rattling the chains again, Robert moaned.  "Wearing these for fifteen years, fifteen long, cold years."

 

Saul straightened his back and eyed his visitors, "You're trying to scare me but I'm not playing.  You might be ghosts but you don't know what you're talking about.  I've fought harder battles and I've won.  I'll fight again and I'll win this one too.  In your little glimpse into the future, you underestimated me and that's a dangerous, dangerous thing to do."

 

Frank eyed him and nodded once, "So be it, Saul Braxton.  You've been warned and shown what will happen if you don't change.  Remember this night and remember that you could have changed and in doing so, changed the course of your life."  Motioning toward his friends, he started toward the door and then stopped.  He took the last newspaper from Robert and handed the folded paper and the lit candle to him.  "I was wrong about one thing, Saul.  It doesn't look like you'll be lonely."  He smiled again and left the room.

 

Watching the three ghosts vanish, the chains and dead tree branch falling to the floor, Saul unfolded the paper expecting to see a large headline.  He scanned the page, holding the candle close to the paper as his eyes fell on a small article near the bottom of the page.  The paper fluttered from his hand and he gasped, the blood draining from his face.  Crumpling back onto the couch, the candle falling to the floor and snuffing itself out, he began to sob, promising to change his ways.

 

 

 

"It was so funny, Charlie," Frank said, smiling at his friend.  Taking another bite of cookie, he continued, "You should have come."

 

Charles smiled, "I'm glad you had a good time."

 

"Hey Frank," Robert said, "I forgot to ask you earlier.  What did you do when you first went into the living room?  There was a loud thump and the couch sort of moved."

 

Swallowing the rest of his cookie, the other ghost laughed.  "Almost breaking my foot! He was asleep and didn't look like he was waking up any time soon so I kicked the couch."

 

"You kicked the couch?" Andrew said, laughing.  "I wondered what you had done because I thought I heard you swear at the same time."  Reaching for another cookie, he said, "These are really good, Charlie."

 

The other ghost smiled, "Thanks.  I wasn't tired when you guys left and I wanted to do something.  I figured warm cookies would be a good midnight snack after a busy night."

 

"Out ridding the world of evil developers," Robert said with a laugh.  "I remember my mother making these horrible, tasteless cookies that we'd decorate for the tree.  Every year I'd forget that they were horrible and I'd get all excited to see racks of cookies cooling so I'd grab some and sneak out back to eat them before dinner."  He shuddered at the memory, "Just horrible, dry things."

 

Andrew laughed, "I hope you were good enough to at least return the others to the rack so you could decorate them later."

 

The other ghost thought for a minute and then shook his head, "Probably not.  I don't remember really but it was tricky enough stealing them, I wasn't about to risk getting in trouble for putting them back."

 

Frank grinned at the story, "You know, I'm sure we decorated a tree and everything but I don't remember that much.  The one Christmas that really sticks out for me had to have been in '62."   Taking a sip of milk, he shook his head slightly at the memory and smiled, "It was ungodly cold in Virginia but I had gotten some new boots, or really, less used boots than what I was wearing, from my parents.  But someone else had gotten a copy of A Christmas Carol by Dickens and I remember sitting around the fire and listening to him read the story.  I hadn't heard it before so it was all brand new to me and amazing."  He swallowed and gave an embarrassed shrug, "The sound and the smell of the fire and the cold of the mist in the air and the sound of this guy's voice---I don't even remember his name---clear and animated in the air.  I think about that night almost every time I smell a bonfire."

 

"That's a good memory," Charles said softly, nodding his head in approval.  "It's funny how simple smells can bring back so many memories for us.  My wife use to bake amazing gingerbread and I can't smell it now without picturing her and remembering that taste."  He fell silent for a moment, idly rolling his glass of milk between his hands and staring into the white liquid.  Standing up suddenly, he glanced at the clock, "It's getting late, I think I'm going to turn in."  He bowed his head slightly saying, "Good night gentlemen.  I'm glad you got home safely from your social crusade."  A chorus of good nights followed as he walked out of the dining room and headed for the stairs. 

 

Listening to Charles make his way upstairs, Andrew turned to his friends, asking, "You think he's OK?"

 

Frank nodded, "Yeah, he'll be OK.  I think sometimes he just gets caught up in memories.  You know, some years are fine---I don't really remember him being too upset last year, do you?"

 

"No, this is the worst year in awhile," Robert said.  Standing up, he yawned, "I think it's time to head to bed too. I'm tired all of a sudden."

 

Standing up, Andrew nodded and gathered their glasses.  "Will someone get the cookies for me please? Charlie's got a container out for them already."

 

"Always the boy scout," Frank said with a laugh.

 

 

 

Curling up under the warm down comforter, Andrew sighed as he relaxed against Robert.  "This feels good, I was getting cold downstairs."

 

Robert chuckled as he patted his lover's butt and gave it a squeeze, "Yeah, it does feel good."

 

"Stop that," he said with a laugh before turning serious.  "Did you ever think you'd end up like this?"

 

"End up like what," Robert asked.  "As a ghost? As a gay ghost?  As a gay ghost who is enjoying a wonderful sexual relationship with his best friend?  As a gay ghost who is enjoying a wonderful sexual relationship with his best friend who still hasn't outgrown his need to be taken to the woodshed once in awhile?  As a gay ghost who…"

 

Andrew laughed, leaning up and kissing him, "Enough.  Just answer my question smartass."

 

"No," Robert said seriously, "I never thought I'd end up like this at all.  I'm not upset about it now but things ended up much differently than I thought they would.  I guess that saying is true sometimes; Man plans and God laughs."

 

Andrew nodded, "Yeah, me too.  I think that's what gets to Charlie too and I think that's why it's not all the time.  I think it's just disappointment maybe or Christmas, the New Year, marks another year of things not being how he thought they'd be or end up as he thought it'd be."

 

"Maybe," the other ghost said with a shrug.  "I'm not sure and I'm not really sure if Charlie knows.  But there's nothing we can do about it except be nice to him and include him and listen whenever he wants to talk."

 

 

 

Slowly opening his eyes, Charles yawned and blinked against the light coming through the pulled curtains of the windows.  Rolling out of bed gently, careful not to wake Frank sleeping next to him, he padded naked into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.  The full length mirror's reflection caught his eye and he stopped, staring at it, unable to take his eyes from the three small dark bruises standing out in stark contrast to his pale hip.

 

"Are you almost done in there or should I go downstairs?" Frank asked through the closed the door.

 

Jumping slightly, Charles glanced at the door, saying, "I'm going to be a minute.  My stomach is bothering me a little.”

 

 Frank made a face and laughed, "Yeah, downstairs sounds like a good idea.  Don't forget to light a match."

 

The comment got a laugh from Charles, breaking his mood and making him smile.

 

Slipping on a pair of boxers and his robe, Frank padded down the stairs, shivering in the cool air and the feel of cold wood floors on his bare feet.  Quickly using the bathroom, he glanced out the porch window as he started back up the stairs and froze.  Blinking, he stepped back into the foyer and pulled the curtain aside and peered out onto the porch.

 

Patrick Boyce sensed the movement and looked up from his study of the wooden porch.  Rising from the rocker he had been sitting in, he gave a small smile and wave.

 

Still stunned, Frank opened the door and stared at the man in front of him.  "What are you doing here?" he finally asked.

 

Boyce gave a sheepish smile and a small shrug, "I don't know really.  I guess you didn't read the paper?"

 

"Ummm," Frank said, mind racing about what had been in the paper.  "We usually do.  Why?"  He shivered as a stiff breeze passed over the porch of the house, rustling the dead leaves on the ground and making the large tree in the front sway.  "Come in," he said, opening the door wider.  "It's freezing and I don't want to let all the heat out.  Plus, I need to get the guys down here; they're never going to believe this."

 

The other man smiled, "Thanks.  I've been out there about an hour and it's a bit chilly."  Stepping into the foyer, he sighed and rubbed his hands on his arms, trying to warm up.

 

Frank starred at him for a minute before pointing toward the living room.  "Why don't you go in and make yourself comfortable.  I'm going to put some coffee on and get everyone else.  Do you want anything to eat?"

 

He shook his head, "No, thanks.  I don't think I can."

 

"Ok," the ghost said slowly.  "I'll be right back."  Deciding not to leave their visitor alone too long, he quickly ran up the stairs.  Knocking on Robert and Andrew's room, he opened the door a second later without waiting for an answer.  "Guys, we've got a problem," he said without apology.

 

"Good morning to you too, Frank," Robert said sitting up.  He blinked at the clock, "It's too early for problems.  Tell it to wait for another hour or so, I'm too young to be getting up so ungodly early."

 

"Prissy Boy is here," the other man said.  "He's downstairs in the living room and he was outside on the porch all night."

 

Andrew moved from underneath the blankets, "What?"

 

"Prissy Boy, Patrick Boyce," Frank said slowly.  "Remember him?  Psychic? Freak?  Obnoxious pompous ass? We scared him several months ago?  Any of this ring a bell?"

 

Sitting up next to his lover, Andrew nodded, annoyed, "Yeah, I know who he is, Frank.  I just don't know why he's here.  Now."

 

"I don't know either, Andrew," Frank shot back.  "All I'm saying is he's here and he's sitting in our living room and I honestly don't think we should be leaving him alone for long.  I'm going to go tell Charlie and get dressed.  What you do is up to you."  Turning around, he stalked out, slamming the door behind him.

 

"What's going on?" Charlie said, sticking his head out of the bathroom, toothbrush stuck in his mouth.  "Why are you slamming doors? I think Andy and Bob are still asleep?"

 

Taking a deep breath, Frank let it out in an exasperated huff.  "They're not asleep any more, I just woke them up."

 

"Why did you do that?"

 

Frank glared at his friend, "If you'd stop interrupting, I'd tell you."

 

"Fine," Charles said turning back into the bathroom and resumed brushing his teeth. "Tell me, I'm listening."

 

The other man sighed and took a deep breath.  "Prissy Boy is downstairs, in the living room."  He heard Charles cough and spit into the sink.  "I found him on the porch this morning when I went downstairs."

 

"Boyce is downstairs?" Charles asked, coming out of the bathroom and staring at his friend.

 

Frank nodded, "Yeah.  I told Bob and Andy too.  I think we need to see what’s going on."

 

"Did he say what he wanted?" Charles asked pulling open a drawer and slipping on underwear and then reaching for the jeans he’d tossed over a chair arm.

 

The other man shook his head, "No but I didn't ask really.  I just invited him in and then came up here."

 

Pulling on a sweater, Charles nodded, "OK.  Get dressed, I'm going go downstairs and see him.  This better not be about that stunt we pulled this fall or any guest appearances on his show.  We're not for hire."  He smiled at Frank, reaching out for him, "I’m sorry I snapped at you this morning.  I was just feeling weird or something.  Last night was great."

 

"It's OK," he said with a smile taking the offered hand and squeezing it for a second.  "Go see Prissy Boy and I’ll get dressed.”

 

Stepping out into the hall, Charles looked up as Robert and Andrew came out of their room together.  “Anyone want to place a bet on what Boyce wants?”

 

“My guess is that his ratings are slipping and wants a repeat of the great show I put on at the piano for him this fall,” Andrew said with a smile.

 

Robert made a face, “It better not be something so stupid.  Plus, he retired, remember?”

 

“Oh yeah,” Charles said going down the steps.  “I had forgotten that actually.”  Walking across the foyer with the other two ghosts following he stepped into the living room and stopped, staring at Boyce.

Their eyes met for a moment before Charles bowed his head slightly toward the other man and said simply, “I wasn’t expecting this at all.”

 

“Expecting what?” Andrew said, looking between them.

 

Ignoring him, Charles continued to hold the other man’s gaze and said, “What happened?”

 

“It was stupid, really,” Boyce said, looking down at the floor, his hands grasped in front of him.  He shook his head but remained silent.

 

“What was stupid?” Andrew asked in a  puzzled voice.

 

Robert looked between Charles and Boyce and said softly, “You’re dead, aren’t you?”

 

“Dead?  Who?” Andrew looked around at the others.  “Would someone please tell me what’s going on here? I feel like I’m talking to myself!”

 

Boyce nodded, “Slid off the road about two months ago.  It was raining and I think I must have hydroplaned or something.  I woke up sitting in the cemetery and a week had passed and I was dead and that’s it.”

 

“Wow,” Andrew said.  Then, turning to Charles, he asked, “You could tell he was dead when you saw him?  How?  He looks the same as he did when he was here last.”

 

Turning to his friend, Charles shrugged, “I don’t know.  I could just tell or sense it or something.  I’ve been able to do it for as long as I can remember.  When I first saw Frank, I remember knowing then too.”  Then, turning back to Boyce, he said, “So what can we do for you?  Why are you here? This isn’t a home for ghosts..” His voice was firm and wary and it was clear he did not relish the idea of the entertainer being there.

 

Before Boyce could answer, Frank came into the room.  “So what’s …” his voice trailed off as he sensed the tension.  Stepping over to Andrew, he leaned in close and whispered his question.  “What’s going on? Charlie looks annoyed.”

 

“Prissy Boy got killed in a car accident a couple of months ago,” Andrew whispered back.  “But he hasn’t said why he’s here.”

 

At the sound of his nickname, Boyce blushed and stood up, spreading out his hands.  “I’m sorry for showing up and I’m not surprised that you don’t want me.  I just didn’t know where else to go.”

 

“Most of us don’t know where to go when it first happens,” Robert said, jumping into the conversation.  “But I’m sure there were other ghosts in the cemetery when you woke up, right?  There’s usually at least a couple that hang around there.”

 

“Sort of like the neighborhood welcome wagon,” Andrew said with a grin, earning a laugh from Frank.

 

Boyce nodded seriously, “There were but they really…”  He paused, searching for the words for a moment.  “But they really weren’t my type of people.  It was an old woman and some guy that looked like a drug addict or homeless or something equally unsuitable.  I don’t know what they could have offered or shown me.”  He smiled and nodded, “I’m sure you know what I mean.”

 

Robert shook his head and smiled, “No, not really.  Sorry.  Personally, I was basically homeless, unemployed and in massive debt when I died.”  He nodded in Andrew’s direction, “I mooched off him most of the school year and didn’t have a clue where I was going to live or what I was going to do for Christmas before Andrew invited me home with him.” 

 

Charles chuckled and grinned at Robert, “Hell, Bob.  If I had known all that, I would have turned you out on your ear when you showed up.”

 

Walking over and laying his head on his friend’s shoulder, Robert sighed, “Ah, you’re just too good to me, Charlie.”

 

The other man shoved him off with a laugh before turning his attention back to Boyce.  “Did you talk to them at all?”

 

Boyce shook his head, “No, of course not.”

 

“Of course not, Charlie!” Frank repeated with a tisk.  “What are you thinking?  Do you expect the famous Patrick Boyce to speak to mere ghosts?  Stupid, peon ghosts who were probably trying to be helpful and friendly?”  He shook his head sadly, “Seriously, I just don’t know where your head is sometimes.”  He looked around at his friends and continued, “I’m waiting for the rest of this story with bated breath but I’m honestly not sure if I can stomach any more without coffee and maybe some eggs.  Anyone else up for food?”

 

Andrew laughed and nodded, “I am but I’m not sure if Patrick’s wonderful story is going to help the digestion or not.”

 

“My vote is going to be that it won’t help,” Robert said dryly, “but I agree.  Breakfast sounds good.”

 

“Great,” Frank said, turning around and heading toward the dining room and the kitchen beyond.  “I feel like eggs, anyone got any other suggestions?”

 

Silently following the group into the large, spacious kitchen, Boyce hung back and leaned against the doorframe, unsure what to do.  “I can’t eat,” he said after several minutes of watching them move in a well-ordered routine.

 

“Of course you can,” Andrew said with a laugh, closing the refrigerator and throwing a small package of shredded cheese to Franklin, who caught it easily.  “What do you think we’re planning on doing with this food? Just look at it?”

 

Boyce frowned, “I tried to eat last week and it just like … fell through me.”

 

Franklin frowned and looked at Andrew.  “Oh, no,” he said.  “That’s terrible.”

 

Andrew’s bottom lip quivered, “You mean, it just fell right through you?  Onto the floor?” 

 

The other man nodded seriously, “Yeah.”

 

Glancing between Boyce and Andrew, the other ghost shook his head, “I don’t know about this.  That’s really bad.  I don’t know if we, or anyone, can help.  You know what that means, right?”

 

“Oh no,” Andrew repeated, “not that, Frank.  You don’t really think so, do you?”

 

“What?” Boyce said, his voice rising in panic as he stood up straight and looked between them.

 

Franklin nodded seriously, looking at Andrew. “I’m afraid so.”  Turning to Boyce, he walked over and laid a hand on the man’s shoulder, “I’ve got some bad news, Patrick.”

 

“What?”

 

He patted his shoulder, “You’ve got Falling Food Syndrome.  You’re going to have to eat out on the porch until you manage to control yourself.  Charlie’s a real nut job about keeping the floors clean.”  Unable to control his laughter any more, Franklin dissolved into fits of laughing.

 

“You should see the look on your face,” Andrew said, joining in, a hand covering his mouth in an effort to control himself.

 

“Would you two please stop it,” Charles barked, not turning around from the omelets he was making.  “That’s not funny.”

 

Robert glared at his lover, “No, it’s not.  I’m sure you remember how scared you were, Andrew.”

 

Walking over, Andrew kissed his lover, leaning in for a hug.  “I wasn’t scared because when I woke up, honey, the first thing I saw was you waiting for me.”

 

Robert hugged him tight and kissed him back.  “OK, then just think about how scared you would have been.”

 

Andrew shuddered, “Yeah, waking up and seeing Charlie and Frank.  That’s the stuff of nightmares.”

 

Charles turned from the stove and looked at him.  Seeing the other man blush and grin, he shook his head and smiled back before returning to his job of cooking. 

 

“Don’t worry about it, Boyce,” Robert said seriously.  “They were just kidding you.  Eating isn’t that hard.  All you really need to do is expect to be able to eat and you’ll do it fine.  You probably were expecting the food to fall through because that’s what movies have taught people about ghosts.”

 

“So you just take a bite like you did before you were dead and chew and swallow just like you’ve always done and tell yourself that it’s normal.  The food will stick,” Franklin said.  Then, smiling he nodded, “Seriously.  Andy and I were just teasing.  You don’t have to eat out on the porch.”

 

Setting the food down on the dining room table ten minutes later, Boyce eyed the filled plates nervously while the others loaded their plates with food.  “So just expect to eat and I can?”

 

“Yeah,” Andrew said as he buttered a slice of toast.  “Just eat like you’ve always done.  Don’t think about anything and don’t wonder if you can do it.  Just eat.”  He took a large bite, chewed and swallowed it quickly and then stood up with a flourish.  “See?” he asked, jumping up and down several times.

 

Robert laughed, “That has got to be one the best demonstrations I’ve seen in awhile.”

 

Charles nodded, “Go ahead, Boyce.  Try it before it gets cold.”

 

“And Charlie makes great omelets,” Franklin said around a large mouthful.

 

Taking a breath, Boyce speared a piece of egg and popped it into his mouth.  Chewing and swallowing, he grinned.  “Hey, it worked.  You were right.”  He took another large bite, closing his eyes with pleasure.  “God that tastes good.  I was so hungry and craving food and I couldn’t do anything about it.”

 

“If you had talked to the first ghosts you saw, they would have told you the same thing,” Charles said mildly before turning his attention back to his plate.

 

Boyce shook his head, “No, they were no where near as smart as you all are.  You’ve got it together and you know how all this works.  That’s why I decided to come here.  I couldn’t find anyone else.”

 

“You couldn’t find any other ghosts?” Franklin asked, surprised.   “I can’t believe that, I thought they were all over the place.”

 

“Oh no,” Boyce said, taking another bite and swallowing it.  “I found other ghosts but they weren’t friendly.  I couldn’t find a house that I liked to live in and didn’t know what else to do.  I remembered you all and so I decided to come here.  We got along so great before.”

 

Robert glanced up and looked at him and then shifted slightly, meeting Charles’s gaze.  He raised an eyebrow and bit back a smile as the other man rolled his eyes.

 

Unsure about what to say, Franklin glanced at Charles and then at Andrew before saying, “OK.”  Taking another bite of toast, he said cheerfully, “This is great guys, You did a wonderful job with breakfast.”

 

Eager to fill in the silence, Andrew nodded in agreement.  “I love this sausage.  It tastes like maple or something.  It’s really good.”

 

 “This is a big house,” Boyce said as if unaware of the silence around him.  “When was it built?  It’s beautiful;  I don’t think I appreciated it as much the last time I was here.”

 

Franklin glanced at his friends before answering, “I think it was built around 1855 or so.  This is the second house to be built here.  The original one, the one that was Charles’s burned down and the family rebuilt on the same land.”

 

“How many bedrooms does it have?” he asked. 

 

“Five,” Franklin answered.

 

Boyce beamed, “That’s perfect!  That’s one for each of us.”  He chuckled, “Even though I get the impression that not everyone sleeps separately around here.”  

 

“I really don’t think ….” Robert started before being cut off.

 

“No, no,” he said, holding up his hand.  “No need to protest or make excuses.  I’m a man of the 21^st century and am very accepting of ‘alternative lifestyles’.”  He made finger quotes as he said the last two words and smiled at the group.  “I was a big supporter and believer in the whole Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy and think that’s a great philosophy for life.  As long as you all respect that I’m straight and like you just as friends, then we’ll get along wonderfully.”  He took a sip of juice and smiled at Andrew, “And who knows, maybe I’ll be open to a little experimenting after a while.  I had a few interesting experiences while in college that I’ve never been able to forget.”

 

“I’m done,” Robert said, dropping his fork onto his still half full plate.  Standing up, his chair scrapping loudly across the floor, he grabbed his plate and carried it to the sink.

 

“Bob, wait,” Andrew said, reaching out and trying to stop the other man before he left.  Standing up too, he muttered, “Excuse me.” Not waiting for a reply, he hurried out of the kitchen after Robert.

 

Watching them leave, Charles sighed, putting his own fork down.  “We obviously need to talk about this,” he said to Boyce.  “I get the impression that you’re expecting to stay here.”

 

“With us,” Franklin added.  “Here, in our home.”

 

Boyce smiled at them and nodded, “I didn’t think it’d be a problem.  You’ve got plenty of room and we got along great last time I was here.  You’re friendly; you’ve got style and taste and are obviously people … ghosts who know how to get things done.  You’re nothing like the other ones I’ve met so far.”

 

Charles glanced at Franklin, who shrugged.  “While I appreciate the compliment, I believe my roommates and I need to discuss this.  We’ve been living together for a long time now and our household seems to be running smoothly with the four of us.  I’m not sure how adding another person will work.”

 

“Oh, it’ll work fine,” Boyce said with a wave of his hand.  “The more the merrier; many hands make light work, and all that.  We’ll have a great time.  You’ll see.”

 

“Are you done, Frank?” Charles asked.

 

Nodding, the other man said, “Yeah.  Are you?”  He stood up and reached for his friend’s plate.  Taking it when Charlie nodded, he carried them both into the kitchen and dumped them in the sink with Robert’s. 

 

“Why don’t we go into the living room and talk about this?” Charles said, standing up. 

 

“Splendid idea,” Boyce said.  “I’d like to get settled as soon as I can.  It’s been an unsettling couple of months and I really haven’t had a good night’s sleep in awhile.”

 

Frank smiled tightly at him.  “Why don’t you go ahead and go in while Charlie and I find out where Bob and Andy have gotten off to and fill them in on what your plan is.” As soon as Boyce was out of the kitchen, he glared at Charles and hissed, “No way.  I do not want to live with Prissy Boy.  Did you hear what he said?”

 

“No, no,” Charles said, holding up his hand, eyes closed as if praying for patience, “he’s not living here.  Don’t worry.  I have no interest in that either.”  He shook his head and repeated, “No, never.  He’s got to learn to find his own way and his own place, I think that’s part of all this.”  Waving a hand around the kitchen, he smiled, “This is ours; this is our way.  He needs to find his own and figure out what he’s going to do.  There are plenty of people out there to help him.”

 

The other man nodded in agreement.  “Exactly.  We’re not passing the buck but being here feels right to me and it felt right for Bob and Andy.  You and I meshed when we first met and it was just Right.  He needs to find his own Right.”

 

Standing up, Charles said, “Yes, he does.  Let’s go find the others and work on getting Boyce out of here.”  Walking out of the kitchen and through the dining room, he glanced into the living room.

 

Boyce looked up at the sound and grinned, “Ready to talk?”

 

“No, not yet.  Just hold tight for a few more minutes.  We need to find Robert and Andrew.”

 

“I hope I didn’t upset them,” Boyce said earnestly.  “I was just trying to explain how open and accepting I was of an ‘alternative lifestyle’.”  He made finger quotes again and smiled. 

 

“Please don’t do that,” Franklin said from behind Charles.  Then, turning to his friend, said, “I bet they’re outside.  If Bob’s pissed, he prefers to do his yelling outside.”  Making his way outside, he looked around but didn’t see either man.  “Left or right?” he asked.

 

“Left,” Charles said.  “Let’s try out back by the well.” They could hear the angry voice fifteen feet from the small white building and he smiled.  “I’ve seen him out here before,” he said in explanation.  Knocking on the lattice, he said, “Can we come in?”

 

“Sure,” Andrew said.  As the other two men stepped inside, he smiled and gave a half shrug.  “Bob’s a bit annoyed at Prissy Boy.”

 

Rounding on his friend, Robert glared and pointed a finger at Charles, “You are not going to allow that man to stay in this house with us, are you?”

 

Charles held up his hands, “Down boy.  No, he’s not staying.  Plus, it’s not just my decision.  You all have as big of a vote in this matter as I do.”

 

“I vote No then, if we have to go through the motions,” Andrew said from his seat on the well ledge.

 

Franklin laughed and held up his hand, “Me too.”

 

Flashing him a quick smile, Robert said, “I think the vote is unanimous in this matter.”  He stopped his pacing and shook his head. “Did you hear what he said about Andy?  Did you hear what he implied?”

 

Sliding off his seat, Andrew walked over to his lover and patted him on the back.  “Down boy, I’m yours and I have no intention of helping some blow hard relive college fantasies.”  Smiling, he added, “Or any fantasies for that matter except yours.” 

 

Robert pulled him close, kissing him hard and patting his butt.  Leaning down, he whispered for his lover’s ears only, “Good because if you even thought about it, I’d ride you so hard and so long …”

 

Blushing, Andrew nodded once and then pulled away.

 

“If you’re done pounding your chest,” Charles said with a wink, “I think we need to go in and break the bad news to Boyce.”

 

“Unless you need to claim your territory or something,” Franklin added with a grin.  “We can wait outside.”

 

Andrew smiled sweetly at his friend and shook his head as he headed for the door, “No, that’s OK, he’s already peed on me.”  Heading toward the door, he laughed as Franklin’s eyes automatically when down to his jeans.  “You’re so easy.”

 

“Hush, Andy,” Franklin shot back with a laugh.

 

Making their way back to the house, Robert said, “I think you should break the news to him, Charlie.  I think he sees you as the leader of our little group.”

 

“Not to mention, at the height of the class, style and all-knowing wisdom he seems to hold so highly,” Franklin added.

 

Charles sighed and nodded, “I think you’re right but I expect back up in there.”  Opening the door into the foyer, he led the group into the living room where Boyce waited.

 

The other man looked up from his examination of a large leather photo album plucked from one of the bookshelves.  “These photos are amazing and really give a wonderful history of your family.”  He turned to Andrew, “You were a very cute baby.”

 

“Thanks,” he said.  “My mom liked me.”

 

Motioning for them to all sit down, Charles perched on the edge of one of the chairs and looked at Boyce.  “We’ve talked about your situation and your … request,” he started, “and as honored as we are that you’ve chosen to come live with us, here, and as understanding as we are of the situation you find yourself in, we all feel that our home is complete and this is not the right place for you.”

 

Boyce nodded stiffly, standing up, “I understand.  I appreciate you talking about it …”  His voice broke and tears began to fall down his face as he sat back down heavily onto the couch.  Covering his face with his hands, he began to sob.

 

Going over to him, Franklin awkwardly patted his back.  “It’s OK, Boyce.  Don’t cry.  It’s really not that bad.  There are hundreds, thousands of ghosts out there.  You’ll find a group that you like and that feels right to you.”

 

Charles shifted uncomfortably in his seat and continued, “That’s right, Boyce.  With all of us, when we appeared here, there was a certain sense of Right about it.  Franklin and I meshed right away and then Robert and Andrew.  We all meshed, the house felt complete and Right.  This is where we are supposed to be, what we are supposed to be doing.”

 

“Who we’re supposes to be with,” Andrew said.  “Do you honestly feel that meshing and that Rightness here?”

 

“I don’t know,” Boyce sobbed, looking up.  “I don’t know what I feel or anything.  It wasn’t supposed to be like this!”  The last part came out as loud cry of bewilderment.  “This isn’t how it was supposed to be!  I’m Christian!  I’m not that bad of a person, this can’t be hell.”  He looked around the room, “You don’t think I’m a bad person, do you?”

 

Andrew shook his head, “No, no, not at all.”

 

“This isn’t hell,” Robert said dryly, adding softly, “but it’s getting close.”

 

“But what do I do?  Where am I supposed to go?”  he cried again.  “I didn’t want to come here really but I didn’t know where else to go!  This isn’t what I expected to happen.  Where’re the Pearly Gates and Saint Peter?  The fluffy white clouds?  My harp!”

 

Despite himself, Franklin laughed and patted Boyce’s back again.  “I had those same thoughts when I woke up,” he said.  “But at the same time, when I got here because I was just following my body, I felt at home.  It felt right and I almost wonder if I would have been drawn here even if my body hadn’t been here.  I don’t know if I was drawn to Charlie or drawn to this house or drawn to what was going to be eventually happening here among the four of us.  But it just felt right.  I can’t think of any other way to explain it.”

 

Robert nodded, “I felt the same thing here and that’s what you need to be looking for, Boyce.  Not just latching on to us because you don’t know what else to do.”

 

“When you woke up or when you were wandering around, did you ever feel anything like that?” Charles asked.  “Like a pull or a thought about where you were supposed to go?”

 

The other man sniffled and thought for a moment before nodding.  “Yeah but it’s wrong.”

 

“What was it?” Andrew asked.

 

“I wanted to go see Mary,” he said.  “I wanted to be with her, make sure she was OK and help her.”

 

Charles stood up and smiled, “Then that’s what you need to do.  That’s your Right place.  Go back to Mary, she was your assistant so maybe it’s your turn to be her assistant.”

 

Franklin nodded and patted him on the back, urging him to stand up.  “That’s got to be it,” he said excitedly.  “You can help her!  Maybe she’ll get her own show like yours and you can help her really speak to the dead.”

 

Standing up at their urging, Boyce looked around bewildered.  “You think?  Do you think that could be right?”

 

Charles nodded excitedly, “Without a doubt.  I think this is one of those situations where you need to trust your first instinct.  Go with your gut and it’s been trying to tell you that you belong with Mary.”

 

“I have been thinking about her,” he confessed.

 

“Wow,” Andrew said, “just think of all the things that the two of you can do together.  Maybe a new TV show, maybe books, maybe guest appearances.”

 

Robert nodded, finally getting into the act.  “I wouldn’t be surprised if you were as famous as a ghost as you were before you were dead.  I mean, talk shows hosts are a dime a dozen but a ghost?  And a ghost with your knowledge of how to make things work and with Mary by your side to help or you help her, who knows how it’ll work out? The sky’s the limit.”

 

Straightening his back, Boyce nodded and smiled, the idea and potential taking hold and boosting his spirits.  He held out his hand to Charles, “Thank you for the kind offer to stay here, my friend.  But I can’t accept it.  I really need to get going.  There are things happening back at home and I can’t expect my poor assistant to handle all of them by herself.”  He smiled as he went around shaking their hands.  “You know her, very sweet and very nice but she’s easily excited and tends to get flustered.  I just need to be around and help point her in the right direction.”

 

“Of course,” Franklin said with a smile.  “We understand completely.”

 

He made his way out of the living room and toward the front door.  Pausing with his hand on the doorknob, he smiled at them.  “Thank you again for the very kind offer and I’ll be sure to send you tickets to our new show and an autographed copy of the book.  It should be out by the end of next year.”

 

“That’d be great, thanks,” Andrew said.

 

“Bye, Boyce,” Charles said.

 

“The guy is as nutty as a fruitcake,” Robert said dryly as the door shut behind Boyce.   “Do you think any of that will really happen?”

 

Franklin laughed, “Who knows and who cares?  I doubt he’ll be back and he’ll be Mary’s problem from now on.”

 

“She was basically drooling over him when they were here, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to be his assistant again,” Andrew guessed.  “They’ll make a happy couple, I’m sure.”

 

“And even if they don’t,” Charles said heading back into the kitchen to clean up, “I don’t think he’d have the guts to show back up here as a failure.”

 

 

 

Leaning against Franklin late that night, Charles sighed.  “I love Christmas trees,” he said.

 

Nodding, the other man eyed the tree they put up that evening.  “It’s beautiful this year,” he agreed.

 

“We never did a tree when I lived here.  I didn’t see my first one until Andrew’s father and uncle were young and it became fashionable.”

 

“We put up one,” Franklin said.  “I remember going out with my father and cutting it down and we’d all decorate it on Christmas Eve.” Feeling his friend sigh and relax against him, he put his arm around him and gently kissed the top of his head.  “You’ve been quiet the last few weeks.  You want to talk about it or you want to sit here and look at the tree or something else?”

 

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly.  “I guess it’s just the passage of time or something.  Sometimes it really hits me how long I’ve been here.  How much time has passed and how different things are.”

 

Franklin squeezed him for a moment, “I know.  I look around town and it’s a whole different world from the one that I left.”

 

“When I was sick, when I knew I was dying, I pictured something totally different, not living with three other guys. Sometimes I think we should paint a couple of Greek letters over the door and be done with it.  I thought my wife, Molly, would join me years later and we’d spend eternity or something together. But she remarried a couple of years after I died and I don’t know what happened to her after she died.”  He chuckled dryly, “Which is probably for the best.  I don’t know how we’d settle who got to spend eternity with her, me or her second husband.”

 

Franklin laughed, “Maybe you could have dueled for her or something.”

 

“Yeah, but it would have been sort of redundant to duel to the death, don’t you think?”  Falling silent again, Charles shifted again in his friend’s arms before saying softly.  “I felt sorry for Boyce today.  I know that feeling, that shock and surprise and almost like a betrayal when you find out that this is It.  This is death and you’re never really prepared for the reality of it..”

 

“I didn’t feel betrayed as much as surprise.”

 

“I think I still feel betrayed sometimes.  Betrayed and disappointed that this is it and it’s not what I was expecting at all.”  He paused, searching for the words.  “It’s not that I’m unhappy…”

 

Franklin kissed him gently, “Regret how it’s all turned out?”

 

Thinking for a moment, Charles shook his head slowly.  “No, I don’t regret you or us or any of this” he said firmly.  “I love this but at the same time … it’s just different.”  He fell silent again and simply looked at the twinkling lights on the tree.

 

“I wanted wings,” Franklin confessed with a chuckle a minute later when it was clear that Charles wasn’t going to continue.  “I always wanted wings and figured I’d get them when I died and Nope.  No wings.”

 

Charles laughed and slowly kissed him back. “At least you don’t have to wear a white robe.”

 

“This is true, that’s a plus without a doubt.”

 

The other man settled back into his friend’s arms.  “Maybe death and whatever this is, is a bit like Christmas.”

 

Franklin thought for a minute and then asked, “OK, you lost me on that one.  What do you mean?”

 

“We all have dreams about it, fantasies about what it’s supposed to be like, what’s supposed to happen and who is supposed to be there.  But then reality sets in and it simply Is what it Is and there’s not much you can do change it.  So you can either be miserable and spend the whole time wishing it were something else; something better, or something nicer, or something different.  Or you can smile, recognize what you really do have and be thankful for that and thankful for who you’re with and have the best time you can.”  Sitting up, Charles kissed him again, “Merry Christmas.  I didn’t think you were part of my fantasies or my dreams or my Supposed To Be’s but I was an idiot then and now, I couldn’t ask for more.”  Holding him close, he whispered softly, “I am so grateful for you and consider myself the luckiest ghost.”

 

Kissing him back, Franklin laughed, “Even though we live in a frat house.”

 

“As long as I’m there with you, it’s all OK.”

 

 

The End