Page 49 of Stalked By Shadows

“Ghosts sometimes touch people,” I pointed out. “I’ve read about it.”

“Conjecture,” Micah stated unfazed by the idea of some wraith accosting him in the dark. “Plus why do they only come out at night or in old abandoned buildings? Why do we have to have all this special equipment toseethem? I think because most of it is in our heads.”

“We’re all crazy,” I supplied, suddenly feeling bad about myself again.

“Some more than most,” Micah agreed.

I sighed, wondering if I should just go home. I was reasonably sure I could find my way back to it.

“Stop,” he said.

“What?” I replied more lost in my thoughts than focusing on him.

“Thinking bad things about yourself.”

“You just agreed that I’m crazy,” I pointed out.

“We’re both crazy. If seeing things makes you crazy, then me disappearing without a trace and coming back to hear strange creatures in my garden makes me crazy.”

“That’s a very specific type of crazy.”

“Yeah?” He asked. “You studied types of crazy?”

After several long psych ward stays, I sort of felt like I had. “I’m not sure anyone really does, as much as locking it away.”

“But you’re not locked away now,” Micah said. He turned and put his hands on my face, and I looked at him. “Stop putting yourself in that cage. It’s okay to think, question, analyze, and even be afraid. It’s what makes us human.” With his warm fingers on my face some of the racing thoughts vanished, and having him right there was all that mattered.

“Live life, right? Instead of running away from it?”

He nodded and stepped away, instead reaching out to lace his fingers between mine. I gripped his hand as we walked through the array of pots. He paused and frowned. Some of the zombie gnomes were knocked over. They hadn’t been like that when we had been by before going in to work. I stepped off the path and Micah gripped my arm.

“I’m going to stand them back up,” I told him.

“We can do it tomorrow. Let’s go inside.”

“It doesn’t have to be paranormal,” I told him. “It could be a wild animal, or one of those stupid reporters. Who all has keys to the outside gate?” He might not fear ghosts, but whatever haunted his garden terrified him.

“Everyone in the building,” Micah said, waving his free hand at the house. “Most don’t come around the back of the house since they have a courtyard in the center of the house.”

“Could have been one of them too. Maybe it was someone new who didn’t know where the second path leads.” I turned the flashlight function of my phone on. “Let me check the yard really quick.”

Micah tensed, his hand squeezing mine hard enough to hurt.

“How about I walk you to the door first, then I’ll check?” No reason to leave him standing on the sidewalk alone in the dark.

“No. Just no. What if it takes you?” And this was the core issue. Not fear of something being there, but fear of something being taken from him.

“Nothing is going to take me. I don’t feel anything right now.” And I didn’t. No doom or skin prickles. Just the quickly cooling night air, exhaustion, and irritation at the thought that someone might have been creeping around his house. “Jet couldn’t have gotten out, could he? Do you ever let him outside?”

“No. And he’s never tried to get out.”

“Maybe it was a big squirrel or something then.” I tugged at his hand. “Let me walk you to the door.”

“No. I’m going with you.”

“Micah…” I could tell he was terrified about standing there on his own damn sidewalk this close to midnight. But he wasn’t letting me go. “Okay. Turn your light on too. We’ll cover more area.” He agreed and turned on the light from his phone. With the two of them it was a bit like having a flood light spanning the entire yard. There were no unexplainable shadows, and when I righted the gnomes, no footprints or tracks in the dirt beneath them. Nothing else seemed disturbed, though the tension in Micah’s shoulders didn’t ease until we got to the door and he unlocked it with his key to let us inside.

Once inside, Jet mer-owed in greeting and Micah locked the door behind us. It was only then that I noticed he was shaking hard and breathing like he’d run a marathon. I shoved my phone into my pocket and wrapped my arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. “I’m sorry.”