Page 69 of Dead Serious: Case 3 Mr Bruce Reyes
“Are you sure about this?” Danny asks dubiously as I help Harrison slide the chest of drawers forward so he can lean down to tuck one of the hex bags under the corner of the carpet where it can’t be seen.
“Yes,” Harrison answers primly as he pats the carpet down. “Of course it will work.”
I straighten up and glance across at Dad, who’s wandering around his room in his own little world, picking things up and putting them down at random while he hums to himself. We haven’t even placed all the hex bags yet, but he already looks a lot calmer and more rested. Not that I’m surprised. I know from experience that Danny is the most comfortable human pillow to snuggle up with at nap time, and I love the way he takes care of my dad. It’s just so inherently built into who he is.
“Tristan, a little help please,” Harrison grunts as he tries to shift the heavy wardrobe on his own.
“Oh shit, sorry.” I shake my head, tearing my attention away from Dad.
“I’ll help.” Danny reaches for his crutches so he can lift himself off the sofa, but I scoop them up and out of the way. I direct a rather pointed look at his cast, which is currently covered by loose joggers. I know he’d rather be wearing his comfortable basketball shorts, but not only is that not a good idea in this weather, the joggers at least hide the explicit cave drawings Sam had so graciously bestowed upon him.
“Nope, you stay exactly where you are. The last thing we need is you breaking the other leg when a wardrobe accidentally falls on top of you.” I blow him a kiss.
He frowns in reply. “I’d rather it didn’t fall on anybody.”
I hurry over to grasp the other side of the wardrobe. Between me and Harrison, the two skinniest guys in existence, we manage to wiggle it away from the wall far enough that Harrison can squeeze his arm down the gap and tuck the last hex bag under the carpet.
“Okay, that’s done.” He stands up and dusts down his clothes, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out the braided bracelet. “We just need to get this on your dad.”
I nod and edge around the bed to where Dad stands beside his bedside table, clicking the nightlight on and off. While he’s preoccupied, I take his hand gently and lift his arm to pull up his sleeve, and he doesn’t even notice. Harrison quickly wraps the bracelet around Dad’s wrist and double-knots it.
“There, that shouldn’t come off.” He nods in satisfaction. “Just make sure his carers know not to remove it, even when he’s being showered.”
“I will, I–”
We both turn as the door opens and Lois walks in. She stops dead and stares at the furniture still out of position from our supernatural security measures.
“What on earth is going on in here?” She looks first at me and then her eyes settle on Harrison, whom she’s never met before.
“Um... This is Harrison,” I introduce him. “He’s uh… he’s… a… a feng shui expert,” I conclude lamely.
“A feng shui expert?” Lois repeats.
“I, uh…” I look at Harrison, who’s staring at me with raised brows and an expression of confusion.
“Yes, I’m an expert at positioning,” he says, catching on, and I hear Dusty snort loudly from the corner of the room. A quick glance shows Danny also trying really hard not to laugh. “We thought Martin would benefit from a positive energy flow in his personal space.”
I can hear Dusty full-on cackling behind me as I concentrate on trying to keep a straight face in front of Lois.
“I must say Martin does look remarkably calmer.” She studies Dad. “Feng shui, you say?” she mutters before turning to Harrison. “Make sure you’re signed into the visitors book.”
He smiles politely back at her. “Already done.”
“Um, Lois,” I interrupt. “I gave Dad a bracelet and it’s special to me. Could you make sure no one takes it off? It’s braided with soft silken threads so it won’t chafe at all, and it can be worn while showering. I just… I would feel better if he had it close to him.”
Lois’ gaze softens. “Of course I will.”
“Thank you.” I nod, watching Dad wander aimlessly in his space.
“Alright then, come along, Martin.” She steps forward and takes Dad’s hand. “Time for some dinner.” She leads him toward the door, and he shuffles along with her obediently, his slippers making a soft scuffing sound against the carpet. “You boys make sure you put that furniture back,” she throws over her shoulder. “We’ll be back in about an hour.”
As the door clicks closed, Harrison turns to me.
“A feng shui expert?”
“I panicked.” I wince. “Come on, we better put this furniture back.”
Even as we slide the wardrobe and chest of drawers back into their original spaces, I can tell the atmosphere in Dad’s room has not only returned to normal, without a hint of anything otherworldly, but that it also now has a light, warm, welcoming feel to it.