Get your own Free Home Page Disclaimer: The Terminator and characters are the property of James Cameron. This story does not intend to infringe on any copyright.
Kath's notes: Thanks muchly to Vicki and Sheena for their editorial advice. The following is an AU which assumes that Kyle Reese survived. Feedback gratefully appreciated.
*****
Sarah J. Reese, nee Connor, knew about battles. She had fought many of them, large and small, in her life. Her marriage, as happy and fulfilled as it was, had been peppered with a multitude of negotiations that she labelled into four categories: victory, detente, defeat, and lost cause. That she would consider her relations with Kyle to be a series of battles amused her, but did not surprise her. Her husband, after all, turned even the most mundane of tasks into military operations.
Kyle didn't go for groceries, he restocked their supplies. A walk after dinner was patrolling the perimeter for Kyle. He never picked up their son from school, rather he secured the target. Their German shepherd, Rufus, was not a pet but a line of defense (but that was another story).
So it wasn't that unusual for her to think of their decision making processes as a kind of summit meeting between allies.
Even given the number of years Sarah had spent with Kyle he did not stop surprising her. Battles that she would file in the lost cause section suddenly turned into victories. So it was when she suggested they stay in Pineridge.
*****
They'd been on the road for some time, longer than Sarah cared to calculate. Their mode of transport, a rather worse for wear 1982 Ford pickup, was showing definite signs of retiring. The ominous rattling from under the hood was no comfort as they pulled into the gas station in Pineridge, a community of only 2500 souls. Late morning sunshine spilled warmth onto her shoulders as she hopped out and took a look around.
Kyle scanned the vicinity as was his habit before going over to the pump. Sarah absently scratched Rufus's nose and looked down through the window at John. The six-year old had immediately taken advantage of his parents' departure to stretch out across the seat asleep.
She gave Kyle a smile and walked over to the door of the station. A cheerful sounding bell tinkled as she entered and startled an older man in midst of restocking a display with motor oil. His task was hampered by the cast on his right arm, held close to his chest by a sling. Just peeking out from under the cloth of the sling was a scripted badge which read "Al."
"Well good morning!" he said. "I'm sorry I didn't hear you pull up. I'll go and..."
Sarah held out a hand to stop him from exiting. "Don't worry, my husband's already taken care of it."
Al peered out the grimy window to see for himself that his customer was indeed pumping his own gas and then sighed wearily. Based on the cleanliness of the cast and the man's awkwardness, Sarah guessed the injury was relatively new. She sympathized.
"As well as the gas, we were hoping you might help us with a radiator problem," she said.
Al frowned thoughtfully. "You need a mechanic?" he asked, with concern.
Sarah grinned and inclined her head to where Kyle was now wiping the windows. "I've got one already. He sort of came with the truck." Then she looked beyond the man into the bays of the garage where three cars sat parked in darkness. Her eyes returned to the man. "You need a mechanic?"
*****
Sarah convinced Kyle that they needed to stop for lunch. He was disappointed that Al couldn't provide them with the radiator right away and was preoccupied with calculating how far he could push the truck's engine before it completely stopped.
The three of them sat in the booth of the coffee shop with only John taking any real enjoyment of the food. Sarah took a deep breath as she surveyed the quiet street beyond the window.
"I think we should stay here," she told Kyle without preamble.
He looked shocked. "Here? We're in the middle of nowhere!"
"I like it here," she said. "It's got a nice feel to it. They have a school and John needs to start his education."
A school? Kyle's mind was reeling. He left behind the problem with the truck and tackled the idea of having John in a classroom all day.
Seeing that she was losing him to some security problem Sarah tried to draw him back. "Al needs some help at the garage. He can't do much with his arm broken and I get the feeling that he'd like to slow down anyway."
"You found out all this just from paying for the gas?" asked Kyle.
She shrugged. "Reconnaissance," she said shortly.
"It's too small," he said. "We'd stand out too much. There's no fading into the background in a place like this. There's no getting lost in the crowd here."
Sarah pushed her plate over to John, who'd been reaching across the table for her fries.
"If we stand out, how much more so would an enemy?" she pointed out. "If we entrench, we get to know the lay of the land then we have the advantage." Kyle's eyes narrowed as he considered this. "Plus, once we're a part of a community then we have allies."
Kyle frowned. He didn't much care for allies. They tended to be more harmful than helpful if the police in Los Angeles were anything to go by. Sarah, sensing that she'd lost ground with her argument, switched tacks.
"John needs to be in school. We have to stop some place to get him enrolled. We can't teach him everything he needs to learn by ourselves."
"We could try," mumbled Kyle, still not liking the idea of the school very much.
"Name one resistance leader without formal education," challenged Sarah. "And even if you come up with one," she rushed on before he had a chance to respond, "I'm telling you he would have been even more successful if he'd gone to school."
"Are we going to stay, Dad?" asked John, looking up at his father.
"Drink your milk," Kyle responded, avoiding an answer.
In the time it took John to finish off his milk Kyle weighed Sarah's arguments with his own counterpoints and made a decision.
*****
"As you can see, it needs a little work." Lloyd Burbank, real estate agent and property manager, was a smooth salesman. Kyle stared at him with an incredulous expression and went back to examining the house.
Impossible to defend, was his first impression. Two points of entry at opposite ends of the house and numerous windows on the ground floor would also provide easy access. The location was at the north end of town, the last property inside the city limits, surrounded by a forest from which any number of enemies could approach unseen.
Not to mention the fact that Lloyd wasn't kidding about the work needed. Kyle was amazed the building was still standing. The roof probably leaked and he'd bet the wiring was suspect. The steps leading up to the porch looked dangerous and the whole thing could use a new coat of paint....hell, it could have used that ten years ago.
"Mrs. Lewis loved this house," Lloyd continued. "When she passed on, her son just couldn't bear to part with the property even though he's now living in Minnesota."
'Not even you could sell this house, Lloyd,' thought Kyle unkindly as he circled around the back. He hadn't even looked inside. There didn't seem to be much point.
"Reese!" Sarah threw open a window, only slightly hampered by the sticking of the swollen wood. She leaned out to catch his attention. "There's a fireplace!"
"Well, that might get rid of a few of the trees," muttered Kyle.
"I know the young Mr. Lewis would appreciate having someone actually living on the property," Lloyd said. "And, of course, someone who could deal with some of the work needed would get a substantial discount on the rent."
Kyle opened his mouth. He was going to say, "Lloyd, the young Mr. Lewis should be paying us to live in this condemned hovel." But he was suddenly struck by a memory of a building on Parker Avenue in LA. He couldn't have been much older than John when he'd lived in it. In a former life, the building had been an office tower but in Kyle's time it was reduced to concrete rubble and twisted metal.
He examined Mrs. Lewis's house with a new eye. It had walls and a roof, even if it did leak. And the forest could provide cover in the event of a retreat...
"We have a deal, Mr. Burbank."
*****
John trotted around the yard after his father who was dealing with the more obvious defects of their new home. After fixing the porch steps to facilitate access to the front door, Kyle next tackled the window frames, some of which revealed gaping holes through the walls.
Rufus barked twice, bringing Kyle's head up from his task. He quickly noted John's position and was comforted by Sarah's presence inside as he cautiously approached the front yard. A heavyset, middle-aged woman was just getting out of her car as she balanced a dish in one hand and a folder in the other.
"Helloooooo," she called out, taking a few steps towards the house.
Rufus approached her, sniffing and barking once more.
"Well, hello, aren't you just the most....ah...ferocious looking doggy," she spoke to him and took a step back.
Kyle, realizing that she was no threat, took pity on her and snapped his fingers. Rufus came over to Kyle and sat down, staying alert but well removed. The woman smiled gratefully at Kyle.
"Hello there, I'm Sandra Dillon from the community welcoming committee." When Kyle didn't respond to this, she cleared her throat and continued. "I've brought over some information about Pineridge and an apple crumble."
"Kyle, who was...?" Sarah appeared on the porch then and noticed the newcomer. Unsure what had caused the tension between the stranger and her husband, Sarah stepped gingerly off the porch to greet their guest. As the introductions were made Sarah turned to bring Kyle into the conversation only to discover he'd disappeared to the back of the house again.
"I must apologize, Sandra. Kyle is a little busy today."
"I quite understand," Sandra said, surveying the house with some unease. "It's been some time since anyone lived in this place."
"Did you know Mrs. Lewis?" asked Sarah curiously.
Sandra laughed nervously. "Oh, everyone knew Mrs. Lewis," she said. Then, seeing Sarah's puzzled look she added, "The old gal was a...a bit of an odd duck."
"Would you like to come in for some coffee?" suggested Sarah, taking a step closer to the porch.
"Oh! No, no thank you.," Sandra immediately backed away. "I'd rather not. Enjoy the crumble and don't worry about rushing back the dish. I'm sure I'll see you in town soon enough."
Sandra's hasty departure left Sarah standing bewildered in the drive.
*****
After their initial violent introduction, when Sarah and Kyle had begun their life together as a family, she'd come to realize that there were certain quirks in his personality that try as she might she could never change. Some of these made her worry about his ability to fit in and adapt to a society vastly different from that to which he was accustomed. But most of them she accepted as that which made him uniquely Kyle.
Kyle did not sleep through the night. Whether this was a remnant of his nocturnal life as a rebel soldier or an instinct to stay alert it was hard to say. But Sarah could expect Kyle to rise from their bed at least three times a night to prowl around the house and sometimes even to go farther afield to satisfy his need to be sure all was safe.
The first night they spent in the Lewis house Kyle lay awake for a long time, listening. The house was old, it was built from cedar, and it creaked and groaned like a living thing. His ears distinguished various sounds as coming from different parts of the house, and some from outside in the yard. He could hear the sound of the dog moving quietly from room to room. Soft wind softly rattled the panes of the newly repaired windows. Sarah was asleep in his arms; their son asleep across the hall. Kyle was awake. He needed to hear the normal sounds of the house at night so he would be able to hear any abnormal noises.
There was a sound that didn't quite belong with the rest. It repeated itself enough that he felt it required investigation. He got up, disentangling himself from Sarah, who rolled over without waking, and snapped his fingers at the dog.
Before he'd even gone halfway down the stairs Kyle saw what it was. The front door was open; swinging gently with a tiny creak from the old hinges. Swallowing his apprehension Kyle froze on the staircase and listened carefully. He looked down at the dog. Rufus had completed the descent of the stairs and now sat at the bottom patiently for his partner. The dog seemed completely at ease, something he wouldn't be if an intruder had entered through that door.
Kyle crept to the bottom of the stairs and looked out the door. No one was there. He closed the door and pushed on it until he heard the click of the latch. He slid the rusted bolt in place and mentally noted that a new lock would be at the top of his list for tomorrow.
*****
Her arms full of grocery bags, Sarah fumbled with the front door of the house, relieved when it finally swung open. She entered the house and used her foot to slam the door closed again.
"Reese!" she called. "John!"
She could hear a banging noise from above. Kyle must be working on the roof, she decided and moved into the kitchen. Depositing the bags on the counter, she shook out her tired arms and peered out the window. John was in the back yard with Rufus. Sarah smiled to watch them together.
The banging above intensified for a moment then ceased. It began again a short time later.
Sarah put away her groceries and started getting lunch together. She was mulling over the possibility of working part time for the coffee shop. Kyle would probably approve, given the close proximity to the school. She found it exasperating sometimes how little he worried about practical things like money.
As she moved around the counter to get to the back door Sarah glanced down the hall. The front door had swung open and now swayed with the currents of air moving through the house. Obviously she hadn't given it a hard enough kick. Closing it behind her, she stepped off the porch to walk around to the back.
"Lunch time, Bubaloo," she called to John.
"Where's Dad?" he asked.
Sarah turned to look up to the roof, shielding her eyes from the sun. No one was up there. She frowned.
"I thought he was fixing the..."
"Hey there!" Kyle emerged from the forest behind them, his greeting startling Sarah. John ran over to leap up onto Kyle's back, an action he indulged by bending over slightly and reaching around to hold onto the boy's legs. "Did you know there's a trail through here that leads almost to the shopping centre? It comes out right behind the town hall."
"Why weren't you on the roof?" demanded Sarah.
Surprised by her tone, Kyle blinked. "I don't have the shingles yet. Not 'til next week probably." He grinned. "So I hope it doesn't rain before then or..."
"Then who was on the roof if it wasn't you?"
Kyle slowly lowered John to the ground and approached his distressed wife. "What are you talking about?"
Sarah avoided his eyes. "I was so sure it was you. What else could it have been?"
He took her arm to gently pull her to face him. Seeing his puzzled expression grow alarmed Sarah tried to laugh it off. "I heard banging and just assumed..."
She looked back up at the roof and Kyle followed her gaze. "It was probably an animal. A bird or a raccoon or something."
"Raccoons only come out at night," she told him, distracted.
"Did you hear anything?" Kyle asked John.
"Nope," John supplied unhelpfully.
Sarah shrugged. "My mistake." She wished she could brush off the sense of disquiet as easily as she put a smile on her face. "Lunch time guys. Let's eat."
*****
Al Stewart wasn't a bad man to work for, Kyle decided, except for his rather annoying inability to not be a part of things. Kyle wasn't used to having someone watch his every move so carefully and Al had a disconcerting habit of leaning over his shoulder to see exactly what he was doing. Kyle chalked it up to the fact that until recently Al had been doing this work by himself and was having trouble letting go. He tried to ignore his boss.
Maggie Stewart, on the other hand, wasn't so easy to ignore.
"Honey, would you like a sandwich?"
"That's very kind of you but..."
"A young man like you needs to keep up his strength. Why you're practically skin and bones, dear!"
Kyle ate the sandwich.
"Thanks very much, Mrs. Stewart."
"Oh my dear, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Maggie. This Mrs. Stewart business makes me feel like an old lady! Have some lemonade, honey."
Kyle drank the lemonade.
He brushed the crumbs from the sandwich off his hands and bent down under the hood of the Dodge Shadow once more. Silent, but ever present, Al joined him, protecting his broken arm by holding it with the other.
"Honey, you have the most well behaved little boy I think I've ever met."
Maggie again, this time as she observed John playing with Rufus in the empty lot adjacent to the gas station.
"He's a real sweetie he is," continued Maggie. "John honey!" she called to get the boy's attention. "I've got some chocolate chip cookies here."
While Maggie was occupied with feeding John, Al left to take care of a customer, leaving Kyle in the first relative peace he'd had since coming into work that morning.
"Reese!"
His head jerked up with the voice and he banged it on the car's open hood. Wincing, he rubbed it absently as he turned to see Sarah striding purposefully towards him. Immediately he shifted his eyes over to where Maggie and John sat on the curb eating cookies. Nothing wrong there so he wondered what had Sarah so agitated.
"You're not going to believe what I found out!"
Kyle couldn't tell if she was excited by her news or upset or some combination of the two. "Tell me."
"Our house is haunted," she said bluntly. "Apparently, it's well known around town too, something that Lloyd obviously forgot to mention when giving us the pitch."
"Haunted," he repeated, unsure he'd heard her correctly.
"According to the woman at the pharmacy, who had the librarian to back her up on this, the house has experienced strange manifestations ever since Mr. Lewis -- the husband, not the son -- passed away 15 years ago. And according to the woman at the bank, after his death, Mrs. Lewis became quite the recluse. She didn't like leaving the house for any length of time, only coming out to collect her mail from the postbox. I talked with the manager of the grocery store. He used to make a delivery to her twice a week. I knew there had to be a reason why no one who comes to see us wants to come inside, but I never thought that..."
"Strange manifestations? What does that mean exactly?" he asked, interrupting her.
"Remember the other day when I heard you on the roof but you weren't there? And the front door keeps opening up all on its own." Sarah nodded as she thought of the explanation. "You have to admit, Kyle, there are some strange noises in that house."
Kyle glanced uneasily towards John, who was still engaged in a conversation with Maggie. "Strange noises, yes. Ghosts, no," he said firmly.
"Why not?" she demanded. "Why couldn't it be haunted?"
"Have you lost your mind?" he asked. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."
She looked at him with such intensity that he began to feel uncomfortable. "What?" he finally asked.
"You want to know the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard?" she countered. "How about, 'You've been targeted for termination'?" Kyle pulled back as though she'd stuck him. "Yet, I came to believe in that fantastical scenario."
"As I recall you took a bit of convincing!" snapped Kyle.
"Yes," she agreed. "But I did come to believe you. Just because something seems impossible doesn't mean it can't be true."
"Okay, our house is haunted," he said. "So what do you want to do? Should we pick up and leave? You're the one who wanted to stay here, not me."
"Don't patronize me, Reese," Sarah said shortly. She took a deep breath. She hadn't really thought through any kind of plan; she'd been so surprised with the news. "It's our house now," she stated. "So either that ghost will have to learn to share or we'll boot his ass out of there. Because I want John to have as normal a childhood as we can give him and that includes having a house to live in."
"You tell him!" encouraged Kyle with an indulgent look. She glared at him and he ducked his head down to avoid the attack.
*****
Kyle came awake to instant alertness, as was his custom. His internal clock, which only let him sleep in short snatches, wasn't what brought him to wakefulness. Something else then had snapped him from slumber.
The dog. The dog was whining. It sounded as though he was down by the front door.
Kyle rolled over, checking the clock to see that it was 3:27, and quietly made his way down the stairs. He warily watched as the dog stood in the.... Damn! The door was open again! Kyle thought he'd taken care of the latch problem but obviously it was still loose.
Rufus was at an angle half in, half out of the house, his nose sniffing towards the darkness of the woods. He whined again. Kyle looked out in the same direction but he saw nothing unusual. Still, if something had upset the dog, it was probably a good idea to check it out.
Signaling to Rufus to join him, Kyle pulled the door closed and walked towards the forest.
*****
Sarah rolled onto her side, her arm flopping onto empty space. This wasn't so unusual, but she propped open one eye to spot the digital clock. It was 3:48 which seemed to Sarah to be a highly uncivilized time to be roaming the house.
Just as she was about to succumb back into dreamland, a noise brought her fully awake and she sat up abruptly.
"Kyle!" she hissed in an urgent whisper. No response.
Sarah kicked away the tangled sheets and grabbed a sweatshirt, pulling it on as she crossed the hall to look in at John. Her baby, her bright little boy, her future leader of the resistance upon whose shoulders the fate of mankind rested, was peacefully and blissfully asleep. Completely unaware of the enormity of his destiny and the increasing anxiety of his mother.
She could swear she heard footsteps as she hesitated just inside John's room. Where was Kyle? Was it her husband who was creeping up the stairs? The most unsettling part of the sound was that the footsteps never seemed to reach the top of the staircase.
Wind rattled the panes of John's window drawing Sarah's attention outside. A dark shadow ran across the backyard and Sarah's heart leapt into her throat. Something had just come out of the woods heading for their back door before it disappeared from her view.
Sarah squared her shoulders and gave herself a mental talking to. There was absolutely nothing to be afraid of in this house. She, who had faced a terror well beyond the realm of ordinary, was not about to back down from a supernatural spook. She took a deep breath and went back into the hall.
There was no one on the stairs. No one in the front hall. No one in the kitchen. As she peered out the window she saw no sign of the dark shape lurking around the back of the house. No sign of Kyle or Rufus either, and at least one of them by her side right now would be a great comfort.
She reached out to the door knob and was momentarily thrown when the door didn't open. She twisted and rattled the knob again, yanking hard this time. Checking to be sure the bolt wasn't engaged, she pulled very hard and knocked herself on the forehead when the door swung easily on its creaky hinges.
Grumbling with annoyance, she stepped outside. Standing a few feet from the house she could see nothing that might be considered unusual. It was very dark, and very quiet, with only the rustling of leaves to disturb the scene. Feeling a little foolish, she turned to go back inside and felt something brush against her leg.
She screamed.
*****
Kyle had circuited around the forest and found nothing. He glanced down at the dog with irritation. As if sensing Kyle's displeasure, Rufus loped ahead in the direction of the house. Kyle decided to make a final sweep near the front of the house before calling it quits. If it wasn't the middle of the night and he hadn't been so tired, he might have found the peace of the wind in the trees to be soothing.
Then he heard Sarah's scream.
Kyle bolted around the house towards the sound wondering what on earth she was doing out of bed and in the backyard at this time of day. Nocturnal prowling was almost exclusively his domain. But that fleeting surprise was quickly shoved aside by the fear that flooded him as he considered the potential reasons for her scream.
Sarah had backed up against the door, her face in her hands as she tried to get her ragged breathing under control. Kyle reached out to touch her arm and she shrieked again, striking out at him blindly. He accepted the blows stoically, gripping her forearms tightly.
"Sarah, Sarah, shh, hey, it's okay, it's okay..." His litany of comfort finally penetrated and she sagged against him.
He let go his grip to wrap his arms around her, all the while scanning around them for the sign of what had frightened her. He couldn't see anything.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled against his chest.
"What happened?" he asked.
"Something...something...I heard the footsteps and then...and you were gone and so I...there was something in the yard and...I saw...I felt...it was..."
"There's nothing here," he quickly assured her. "I've checked and rechecked. There's nothing here. It's just me and the dog. That's what you heard. That's what you saw."
She took a shuddering breath and pulled out of his embrace. "You're probably right." She wouldn't look at him. "Let's go back to bed."
Kyle followed her, checking the locks on the doors before mounting the stairs. He left the dog outside John's room, thankful that the boy had slept right on through the excitement. When he climbed under the sheets he didn't object when Sarah pulled him close to her. Offering comfort and security was a role he was happy to play.
*****
Kyle sat on the floor by the back door and gathered up his tools. Readjusting these damn hinges seemed to be a daily chore for him. If it wasn't the front door swinging open all the time it was the back one getting stuck. He gave the door a stern look and stood up.
Stepping into the kitchen Kyle whistled softly, bringing the dog to him from his post at the front door. Sarah was seated at the table reading and she glanced up.
"I'm just going to do a quick tour," Kyle told her.
She nodded acknowledgement. "I'm going upstairs."
After Kyle and Rufus exited, Sarah returned to her book. She glanced up uneasily at the first sound, a faint knocking. Then she focused her attention back on the words on the page. An old house makes noise. It's not unusual or supernatural. Nothing more natural, in fact, than an old house making noise.
The banging grew louder. Sarah's eyes examined the walls of her kitchen and she wished she'd left a light on upstairs. Maybe she'd just wait until Kyle came back before going up there.
Unlocalized creaks skittered across the ceiling above her, giving her the impression of young children running with light feet. Kyle had explained to her about how the cedar wood of the house expanded and contracted causing these strange sounds. It was just the house; there was no ghost.
A sound by the floor drew Sarah's eyes down and she actually stopped breathing at the sight. One of John's few toys, a dump truck, was rolling towards her from the hall. It came into the kitchen at a fair speed on a heading for the refrigerator. Suddenly it changed course, veering in a wide arc to the left and finally coming to a stop when it bumped against her leg.
Sarah didn't even bother to wonder if Kyle was playing some kind of practical joke on her by pushing the toy into the room. While he had a good, if underdeveloped, sense of humour, the concept of such a malicious tease to scare her was quite beyond his comprehension. And John was asleep; he'd never have made it down the stairs without Sarah hearing him.
Finally remembering to breathe, Sarah bent to pick up the toy with trembling fingers. She peered cautiously into the hall from where the toy had come and found herself staring right out the front door.
*****
Kyle mounted the porch steps wearily and went to open the door only to find it solidly barred against his entry. Frowning he jiggled the knob a bit. Normally it didn't take much to open this door; it spent more time swinging in the breeze than it did locked. He pressed against the glass pane to see that someone, Sarah presumably, had wedged a chair under the inside handle. Effective, but it also made it difficult for him to get in. He already knew the back door was a lost cause since he'd spent several hours working on it and had bolted it before leaving.
No light filtered out from the back of the house which told him that Sarah had left the kitchen. He stepped back to examine the upper windows. No lights there either. She'd gone to bed. She'd locked him out and gone to bed!
Kyle circled the outside of his house, checking with every window even as he knew it was a fruitless task. As with the back door, he'd spent considerable time securing the lower floor, even before dealing with more pressing repairs, like their leaking roof.
Standing in the backyard with his hands on his hips he examined the house critically. On the second floor the bathroom window was open but he'd never make it through there. He frowned. John's window was another matter.
Once the plan was determined he wasted no time executing it. Kyle scaled the tree closest to the house and swung out onto the roof, sliding a few feet before catching himself on a broken shingle. So far so good. He inched his way along until he estimated he was right above John's room. Making a mental note not to forget to deal with the eaves when he finally got around to working on the roof, he lowered himself down until he was hanging by his fingers from the gutter.
A very unstable gutter, as he soon came to appreciate. Suddenly fearing he'd plunge to the ground, he levered himself quickly into position to swing in through the open window.
Not his most graceful entrance, he decided, as his back hit the windowsill painfully, but he did manage to land on his feet in a crouch. His eyes immediately sought out his son who was missing from the bed and so he nearly didn't see the gun levelled at his head by a deadly serious and absolutely furious Sarah.
"Goddamn it, Reese!" she exploded, lowering the weapon.
Kyle remained still while she ushered a sleepy John back into his bed and deflected the child's questions about what had happened. John rolled over and sighed, asleep almost immediately. Sarah stepped back into the hall and Kyle followed her slowly, shutting John's door softly behind him.
"You locked me out," he said quietly.
"And you didn't think to knock?" Sarah held one hand to her temple, the other still with the gun hung loosely at her side. Kyle reached out to take the weapon from her with gentle fingers.
"I didn't want to wake you up," he offered. "And I was curious to see how easy it would be to get in."
"You scared me half to death!"
"I'm sorry." He was so contrite that her anger diffused and she turned away. Almost at the door to their room she swung back at him.
"Don't ever do that again!"
He nodded.
After she'd disappeared back into the bedroom, Kyle descended the stairs to let the dog in. He paused in the hall. The chair that had barred his entrance before now stood upright with the open door knocking softly against its back.
*****
Kyle returned home after a day at the garage, finding he had to maneuver around a backhoe and several public works trucks parked on the street by his driveway. The dog came bounding out to greet him and Kyle bent over to offer his hands for inspection as was his habit.
He found Sarah and John in the kitchen. John was setting the table one utensil at a time while Sarah juggled stirring a pot, reading a book, and directing the boy all at the same time.
"Put the forks on the other side, Bubaloo," she murmured.
Kyle's entrance stopped all pretence of work as John launched himself into his father's arms. Kyle deftly avoided being stabbed by the fork, taking it instead to place on the table. He came to stand behind Sarah, kissing the back of her neck and peering over her shoulder.
He expected the book to be a recipe, given her intense concentration on it while cooking. His surprise at the subject matter made him lower John to the floor and take the book away. He flipped it over to read the cover.
"Communicating with the Dead? What are you up to?"
"I was reading that," she said, annoyed, as she took the book back. "John, go wash your hands; it's almost supper."
Kyle reached into the salad bowl on the counter to fish out a piece of carrot. He eyed Sarah cautiously as he chewed. She'd been a little on edge lately so he was unsure how to approach the topic. As it turned out, he didn't have to worry since she brought it up.
"I think we should do a seance," she announced, putting the book down to dish out their dinner.
"What is a seance?" he asked.
"It's when you try to communicate with the spirit of someone who has died," she told him.
"Of course," he said. He hesitated and then had to ask, "What are you going to say? Hi, nice to meet you, now get out of my house?"
"Reese, you know I love you but your diplomacy skills are severely lacking," she said sternly, handing him a plate.
"I guess you could slip in a 'sorry you're dead' before issuing the eviction notice."
"Who's dead?" asked John as he took his seat. Kyle and Sarah exchanged glances.
"The woman who used to live in our house," Kyle finally said.
"I can't do this without your help, Kyle, so I would appreciate a little more support," Sarah said, bringing the last of the food to the table.
"I'm all for it," Kyle said.
"Really?" Sarah was suspicious.
"Absolutely," he said seriously. "But before you get around to kicking her out I'd like to ask her something myself."
John giggled. "What are you going to ask the dead lady, Dad?"
"I would really like to know how she kept the front door shut."
Sarah ground her teeth with frustration. "Reese!" she warned. He smiled at her.
Time for a change of topic.
"What's with the stuff on the street? Are they repaving or something?" he asked.
"No, it's something to do with the pipes," she answered vaguely. "Just for a few days, they said. And it's not Mrs. Lewis we need to worry about it's Mr. Lewis."
"Well, I'm sure he'd know how to lock the door," Kyle said under his breath.
*****
Later, Kyle tucked John into bed after first securing the window with the bolts he'd put in to ensure that nothing larger than a cat could fit in. He pulled up the covers around the boy and patted his head lightly. It was always reassuring to Kyle to have solid evidence of John's existence.
"Dad, is Mr. Lewis really living in our house? Why can't we see him?" John asked.
Kyle paused a moment, thinking. He'd promised himself to always be completely honest with his son. "No, Mr. and Mrs. Lewis no longer live in the house. They are both dead."
"But Mommy thinks that she can talk to them," John said.
"Mommy..." Kyle took a deep breath. "Mommy is frightened by some of the weird sounds in the house. But the house is making those noises because it's old and so the water pipes and the wooden frame creak and groan. Sometimes this is very spooky, but it's not a ghost."
John considered this very carefully. "If Mommy gets scared in the middle of the night and you're not there, she can come and sleep with me," he said.
Kyle smiled. "I'm sure that will make her feel better. Thanks buddy."
As he rose to leave, John's small voice brought him back to the bed. "Dad, if Mommy's right and there is a ghost, he won't hurt us, will he?"
"I would never let anyone hurt you or Mommy," Kyle vowed. "Ever."
"Okay."
The acceptance and absolute trust in the boy's response hit Kyle almost physically. He hoped he could live up to the burden of that faith.
*****
Sarah and John approached the house from the trail in the woods. John ran ahead to investigate the sound of the workers who were digging up their street. Sarah followed more slowly and was surprised to see Kyle seated on the porch steps reading with Rufus lying beside him. Kyle wasn't paying any attention to the public works disruption; in fact, he seemed completely oblivious to the commotion.
Sarah snatched his book from his hands before he could even acknowledge her presence.
"Payback's a bitch," she told him with a grin. Her smirk faded when she saw the title of the book. "A Scientific Explanation of the Paranormal? What is this?"
He took the book away from her and put it beside him. Then he took her hands. "Let me show you something."
She nodded. He rose and guided her towards the street to where the crew had dug a large hole, cutting through the pavement and extending their intrusion onto a patch of the grass at the front of the property. When Kyle pointed into the hole, Sarah peered over the edge cautiously.
"What? What's there? Oh my gosh!" She stood upright and gripped his arm. "Did Mrs. Lewis bury Mr. Lewis on the property?"
"Ah, no. As far as I've heard, they are both buried in the cemetery."
"Then what am I looking at?" She was puzzled.
"You're looking at your ghost," Kyle told her. "They were repairing the water lines for the town and discovered this morning, by accident, that an older water main that runs under the property had burst and flooded."
"I don't understand," Sarah said. "What has that got to do with Mr. Lewis's ghost?"
"The water under the house causes it to shift," Kyle explained. "Which means that walls rattle, and the floors are uneven, and there are unexplained knocks and bangs and creaks. And doors don't stay shut," he added with some satisfaction.
"Are you kidding me?" she whispered with disbelief.
He just shook his head.
Sarah looked dubiously down at the hole again. "No ghost?"
"No ghost," he said firmly. "And once they drain off the excess water we should have a much quieter house."
"Water?" She was still uncertain. "Water caused all that noise? Well. Damn."
"It's probably not going to be a popular theory with the town folklore," Kyle observed as he calmly grabbed hold of John before the boy could jump into the hole.
"Dad, if the house is on water is it going to float away? Because then we could be sailors! And maybe if pirates attacked then we could fight off the pirates and take all their gold and even fire a cannon ball or something. And maybe our house could be haunted and a sailing ship at the same time so all the other sailors would be afraid of us..."
Kyle walked back to the house with his son on his shoulders, listening patiently to the adventures they would have on the high seas in their haunted ship.
*****
That night, Sarah lay in Kyle's arms and they both listened to the unearthly sounds of their house.
"It's still freaky," she whispered. He tightened his hold on her. "Even knowing what it is, it's still freaky."
"A few creaks can't hurt us," he said softly.
"I don't know whether to be relieved or disappointed," she confessed. "There was something exciting about the idea of living in a haunted house."
"Not to mention the opportunity to 'boot his ass out of there,'" he said. She jabbed a finger in his side. "It wouldn't be the first time we've fought something that you can't just kill," he reflected sadly.
Sarah felt a chill and snuggled closer still. "Give me the ghost of Mr. Lewis any day over...that."
Kyle, hearing the now familiar rattle of the front door opening with the wind, was inclined to agree.
*****
The End!
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