Chapter 4

“Hey!” Smack. “Wake up!”

The slap, accompanied by the cold water splashing on his face brought Nix to a sputtering unpleasant wakefulness. He took in a deep breath as his eyes snapped open, and then began to cough violently as water went up his nose and down his throat. He was vaguely aware of a vice like grip on his left bicep; someone was holding him up. When his eyes focused, he realized he was in a shower and the water was cold.

“What’s going on?” Nix gasped again. “Am I in jail?” He reached forward to grasp the handle to either turn the water off, or at least turn up the temperature to something above ‘artic winter’.

“You stink, and I don’t like the foul odor of sweat, urine and stupidity invading my space!” Billy snapped as he swatted Nix’s hands away from the faucet.

“Ade?” Nix asked. He looked over, and then up, at the angry blond holding his arm. “Hey! Who’re you?” He exclaimed as he tried to pull out of the tight grip. “This isn’t your house! My brother lives here!”

“This is my house,” Billy hissed as Gregg came into the bathroom, holding a bucket of supplies.

Nix looked down, hacking out a rough wet smokers cough. He lost his breath for a minute, and then got it back with a quick shake of his head. He was losing his buzz, and fast. "You must be the house sitter or something." He tried to pull away from the blond again so he could get out of this freezing shower. "Let go, I’m dizzy."

“Oh, I’ll let go,” Billy said as he reached out with his free hand, digging into the bucket. He pulled out a boar bristle brush. “When we’re done scrubbing you down.”

“Scrubbing me…” Nix frowned, and then looked down again as his brain finally finished processing the information it had taken in when he looked down while he tried not to choke on the water going up his nose. Somehow, someway, he had been undressed and then put into a pair of old-fashioned long underwear that came down to his knees. He frowned. “Wait a minute… wait just a minute…” before he could protest any further, his world turned into a living, scrubbing nightmare.

“Hang onto him, he’s going to squirm down to the floor,” Gregg grunted.

“Let him, it’ll be easier to get everything,” Billy said as he let Nix sink to the floor of the tub. He rubbed the stiff bristles over the bar of lye soap, and then dived in, scrubbing Nix’s calf. “I wonder if I could scrub these tattoos right off his body?”

“I can tell you’re trying!” Nix cried out. He scrambled to his hands and knees and was pounced by Gregg, who began to scrub his back with a short handled brush. Nix was positive he was trying to remove flesh from bone through the thin fabric with the energetic scrubs.

“What are we going to do about his hair?” Billy asked as he rolled the bar of soap in a washcloth. Before Nix could protest, it was applied to his face, where the blond vigorously rubbed it. “Close your eyes, or they’re going to sting for a week,” he said as an afterthought.

While Nix bellowed his rage and discomfort, the two apparitions continued to scrub him down in the tub. The water continued to run cold, mainly for the purpose of shocking his system out of its intoxicated state. In the bedroom, Jayce was sleeping peacefully in Kelly and Ade’s bed, in the middle where he was bundled up cozy and safe.

*****

“Never again…” Nix groaned as he sat on the couch. He was hunched over, his face in his hands. He could feel every inch those stiff brushes had raked across his body, his skin red and stinging as if he had gotten a moderate sunburn. At least he was clean and Jayce was taken care of. For that, he was grateful.

“You’re lucky I didn’t turn you into powder, pal,” Billy spat from where he stood by the fireplace. He was watching Nix closely, ready to intervene if he tried to take another hit to get over his bath.

“You can’t kill me, you’re dead. At least I don’t think you can,” Nix said wearily as he rubbed his face with his hands. He lowered them so he could peer up to Billy. “Yeah, I know what you are,” he said calmly.

“Good. Now you need to look inside and see what you are,” Billy said quietly. His dark eyes glittered from behind his shaggy bangs.

“And just what does that mean? Huh?” Nix asked. “I know what I am.”

“You’re a weak man.” Billy floated from the fireplace, moved passed Nix and stood before the large picture window. He gazed out into the lawn as he gathered his thoughts. “It’s bad enough that I have to have another family in my home, now I have you squatting here. The only reason I haven’t sent you packing yet is because of that little boy. How could you let him be so dirty and hungry?”

Nix grew quiet. The past few weeks had been a blur. After Sabaste’s death, he had gone on autopilot; quitting his job, putting his townhome up for sale before packing up what he could tuck in around his Harley in the back of his van and taking himself and his son back home to America. On the way, he had picked up his pot habit again to dull the pain, but that only escalated with pills until he found himself back with the harder substance again. He was amazed that he waited until he got here to take his first big hit. He didn’t realize the shape he had put his son in, but he was sure he was going to be reminded of it by this temperamental spirit. Nix braced himself as he rose. “I have problems, sure,” he said as he walked to stand next to the tall blond. “Who doesn’t?”

“Problems are a part of life,” Billy said quietly after a long beat of silence. “And death. You deal with them, you don’t mask them and you sure as hell don’t run from them. You look like you did both.”

“I’m human.”

“No excuse.”

“No,” Nix agreed. “No excuse, just an explanation. When did you die?”

“1797.”

“How old were you?”

“Just turned twenty.”

“What about you?” Nix asked Gregg after he had materialized on his left.

“I was almost twenty when I died,” Gregg replied.

“Then you and I have different ways of coping with our problems,” Nix said as he turned to address Billy. “What’d you do in times like this? Let me guess, you went and chopped wood. Or, you raised a barn or cut hay with a sickle when times were too stressful to deal with real life, right? Went out to the garden and picked some beans or milked a cow? Maybe you went to you a big ole fancy hoe down!” He was growing angry, angry at the fact that he was being judged by someone long dead, and the fact that the ghost was dead-on in his ascertation. Billy didn’t react as he continued to gaze out of the window, his hands clasped behind his back.

Gregg stood quietly next to Nix, but wisely kept out of the conversation. The night was beautiful, the full moon hidden sporadically by clouds that skimmed quickly through the sky. Fireflies stitched their way along the vast lawn and a soft wind rustled the treetops.

“I said,” Nix began, only to be softly hushed by the blond.

“Ssssh,” Billy said. “Listen.”

“To what?”

“Just listen.”

Nix turned his face towards the window, his emotions boiling within him, rising to the surface, wanting control. Anger, grief, bewilderment, that itch for another hit, gratitude that he was no longer wearing the old fashioned underwear they had bathed him in. He pressed his forehead to the glass and at first, he heard nothing. Then, the soft sounds of tree frogs hit him. Their voices were a steady trill and so subtle, they had been nothing more than background noise. The leaves rustled again and he closed his eyes, almost positive he could feel the breeze on his face. Cool, refreshing. Nix inhaled deeply through his nose and could swear he could smell fresh cut grass. A whippoorwill called in the distance; a mocking bird, nocturnal in his search for a mate, called back.

“I… I just want to hit something,” Nix’s voice was soft, far away, his emotion raw. “It’s not fair.”

“No,” Gregg said softly. He put his hand on the man’s shoulder and continued to gaze into the peaceful night. “Whatever it was that caused this kind of pain, it doesn’t seem fair at all.”

“He was my best friend… my brother. He didn’t care that I liked men, he didn’t care that I didn’t want to do drugs. He kept that life from me, and that’s the life that killed him.”

“But… you have a son?” Billy questioned.

“I’m a hetero drunk, sue me.” Nix inhaled again and still, he could smell that fresh cut grass. His mouth trembled. “They shot him in the face… they wouldn’t even let us see him to say goodbye. Most his head was gone.” A high, reedy sound came from his throat. “Shotgun to the face, I had just seen him a few hours before, he was smiling and happy, I had no idea he was in trouble, I could have saved him, if he had told me, but he was keeping—had kept that part of his life away from me to protect me.” Nix lifted his fist, banging the side of it gently against the glass. “He said he’d see me the next day, that Friday night; we’d go out, go cruising, hit a movie and just chill, but instead, I got a call early that Friday morning, it was from a friend of ours, telling me he was dead.”

Gregg gently squeezed Nix’s shoulder. “You can’t blame yourself for his death,” he said softly. “It’s not your fault, you didn’t force him to live the life he did.”

“It is my fault, he… he… he should have told me, confided in me, I could have saved him.” Nix opened his eyes and tears spilled down his cheeks. He wiped them away brusquely with the heel of his palm and sniffed. “He was always there for me, telling me when I got weak; “Nikki, you know you can’t do that mess, you got off it, live your life, man, don’t go back to that old life, it was killing you, brother”, and he was right, he was right, but he wouldn’t stay away from it himself. I let him down because I couldn’t help him, but he helped me so much. We worked together, he lived down the street, he was the craziest person.” Nix banged the side of his fist gently into the glass again as he smiled in his grief. “He’d come walking up the sidewalk and take a pebble and toss it at my window. I’d throw it open and he’d start serenading me. With the Macarena.”

Gregg chuckled. “That’s funny,” he said softly. “Could he sing?”

“Yeah,” Nix whispered, still smiling as he gazed back to the memory. “And do the dance, too. People would have to walk around him on the sidewalk, watching him act like an idiot. He was the best. Sometimes, he’d just… drop by and leave stuff inside my door, we had keys to each other’s places, and he loved Jayce. Jayce was his ‘little Hermano’. When we found out Jayce was autistic, I was confused, I didn’t know what to do or even really what it was. It was Sabaste…” Nix looked over at Billy, and then Gregg. “His street name was Phantom. Can you believe that? He was always so good about getting in and out of places without being noticed. One of his favorite things to do was just pop up behind someone and shout out “TAG, YOU’RE IT!” scared the crap out of tons of people.” He shook his head. “When we found out Jayce was autistic, it was Sabaste who said, “Hey, you know what? So what! Screw anybody that says this kid ain’t going to be good. This kid’s gonna be great. Just you watch and see, Nikki.” and I believed him. I still believe him. He was wise, there was just… a great calm about him, but he was wild, too. He’d switch from one to the other sometimes, depending on where his mindset was.”

“Sounds familiar,” Gregg said dryly as he looked at the tall blond pointedly. Billy only grumbled softly as he continued to gaze out into the yard.

Nix smiled, the tears continued to roll, but he let them be. No sense wiping them away now when they’d just continue to flow. “It just doesn’t feel real,” he said softly. “When I heard he was dead, I just looked at the phone after my friend hung up and asked what the hell had just happened.”

“Let’s go outside,” Billy said suddenly. “Sit in the grass and look at the sky.”

“No, I don’t want to leave Jayce alone in the house. Besides, I’m in my boxers…”

“He’s asleep, and if he stirs, Gregg and I will know it. And no one will see you in your underwear.”

“Okay,” Nix agreed. “I can do that.” He pushed away from the window and followed Billy out. It didn’t bother him that the door swung open, as if of its own will. All of his life he had seen ghosts and even spoke to them like he was doing with his new friends tonight. He knew that they were just people, like him, but with a supernatural edge to the world around them in their deaths. The door shut gently behind them as Gregg held up the rear.

“Right in the middle,” Billy said. “It’s the best spot.”

“We sit here a lot,” Gregg explained as he followed at Nix’s side. “You should see some of the meteor showers that occur, we sit out here all night just to watch them. They’re exciting, you never know when or where the next one will come from.”

“Do you ever make a wish on them?” Nix asked as they settled down on the grass. Ade didn’t have time to mow before they left, and it was starting to get shaggy at the tops. It tickled his bare legs.

“Nah,” Gregg said. “We got all we need here, why wish for more?”

“Good point,” Nix said as he lay on his back and put his arms behind his head. “I didn’t let Jayce go to the funeral,” he continued once they got settled. “He’s too young for that, I don’t want to bring that to him while he’s so young. He wouldn’t have understood and it could have frightened him. He may not show it on the outside, but he’s very sensitive. He knows when people are upset and though he’ll be stoic on the outside, it’ll come to the surface after a little while, kind of like a boil. An emotional boil. He’ll cry, but not know why, he’ll just know that someone was crying earlier.”

“Empathy is a very good thing,” Gregg said. “He’s a very sweet boy.”

“He’s a very sweet boy,” Nix agreed. “His mother didn’t want him and gave me full custody. At first… I didn’t want him either. I mean, I have no idea how to raise a kid. So I went to give him to an adoption agency, but as I was packing up his things to take him away, I wanted to hold him one last time, and I just looked at him. He was so… tiny, so perfect and he was looking back at me. I knew he trusted me, trusted me and I knew that he wasn’t going anywhere as I began to put his things back up. He’s taught me a lot of patience, too. He’s all boy,” Nix said with a chuckle. “He’s not scared of anything and the scarier something is, the more he wants to do it. If he can get filthy playing outside, he’ll search out the deepest mud hole he can find.”

“I have a question,” Billy said.

“Sure.”

“What’s up with the silverware?”

“Yeah, he doesn’t eat with spoons or forks, he can’t grip them well, so he gets frustrated and just throws them. You should see him eat soup with his fingers. He’s a master.”

Gregg burst into laughter at the mental image.

“You have got to work on that,” Billy frowned.

“I am,” Nix said as he sighed. He crossed his feet at the ankles and tipped his face up to watch the sky. “Sabaste would have liked it here. He liked the night sky and the moon. He was a city boy, through and through, but he enjoyed the simpler things in life, too.”

“You can see us,” Gregg said. “Why didn’t Sabaste come to you after he died? Even to just say goodbye?”

“I don’t know,” Nix answered thoughtfully. “His mother died when he was young, he never stopped missing her. Maybe he left to be with her.” He looked over at the pair. “Why didn’t you move on?”

“I’m not ready yet,” Billy whispered. He briefly thought of a line to a poem by his favorite poet, who mentioned promises and miles before he could sleep.

Gregg nodded gently in agreement.

*****

Sabaste stood in front of Nix’s townhome, his head tilted back as he gazed at the window he used to toss pebbles against. He was still getting used to the living walking through him, as they were doing now while they went about their lives. It continued to give him chills at the thought that he was dead, that they couldn’t see him to move around him like they used to.

Nix’s windows were dark now. He had packed up and got out of town quick. Sabaste felt he knew why. It was Nix’s face he remembered seeing before the shotgun blew off most of his head. Anger began to well up into his heart as he clenched his fists by his sides. Betrayed by his best friend, it couldn’t get any lower than that. Not to him. The tickling sensations of people as they continued to walk through him began to grate on his nerves and cause him to writhe in place at the unpleasant sensation.

“You killed me, didn’t you, brother?” Sabaste spoke softly, his jaw clenched as he continued to look up at that window. He could remember the times Nix would lean his upper body out and they would give each other the business in brotherly bantering. How many times had Sabaste let himself into that townhome? He shook his head softly. “It was you, wasn’t it? What did you want? You could have asked and I would have given you anything!” He was growing angry. “But you had to go and kill me? That’s low, man! You’re a snake in the grass and I am coming for you, man! I know you can see us, that was your mistake, telling me that secret because I’m coming to get you, I’m going to find you and I am going to mess you up!” Sabaste turned and shoved the large man who had just walked through him. “Get off me!” He yelled as the man staggered and bounced off the wall.

“Yeah, baby. Phantom is here now, I’ve found my true calling,” Sabaste turned his head, getting a pop out of his ethereal neck as he grinned a grin of the insane. “Yeah, you think you can betray me, stab me in the back and expect me to forget it, man? You’re wrong.” Sabaste began to laugh. “Oh man, Nikki, you are so dead wrong.”