Psycho

PSYCHO-SURRENDER

Copyright 2002 by K. J. Jekyll. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles, or reviews, that are deemed favourable.

This book is distributed subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the prior consent of the publishing agent, in this case being specified as K. J. Jekyll, in any other form of binding other than that in which it is bound.

All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

This book contains the complete text of the first larger versions, and is marked this year of our Lord 2002 as The Original. This copy supersedes any others as the original, but all other copies remain the sole property of the author.

All pros copyrighted as per individual agreements in volumes VI to VIV supplemental, all parts or parts thereof remain protected in this publication, whether it be specified or implied.

Produced in New Zealand, Christchurch by K. J. Jekyll.

GHOSTS (of a chance)
I feel humbled by previous souls
when gazing upon their achievements,
yet they were as I - in their time,
striving to do the best they could -
knowing only the wish to be.
Thus it is I can only wish,
that now in their final resting places
they smile upon us with fond regard
and wish us well in our endeavours...

Chapter I

Daniel was 13 years old when his father brought the Johnstone house, and it was there that all the strange things began...
    It was a grey summer’s day when they moved house, and by now Daniel had become used to the trauma of being up rooted every six to twelve months - since his father had taken up property speculation. Their new homes were always huge, and this one was no exception, except that it seemed larger than all the others combined.
    The house was of a Victorian design, old as a sailing ship, of three stories stature, and made totally of old hard woods. Daniel’s first impressions of the place, was to compare it to the house in the movie The Adam’s Family, yet after the initial shock of living in such a place, his sensibilities and curiosity were addressed. Eventually it became a home, his home - and more...
    For the months following their arrival, Daniel became involved in making new friends, like Tom and Bruce, and learning the lay of the land, in the city of Westlake. The city wasn’t huge, as such it didn’t take all that long to discover the areas of interest - at least to him. During this period there was little or no time to appreciate the strangeness of the house, but it was there all the time, in the back of his mind.
    Summer slipped away as the leaves of the trees began to change colour, falling to the ground - like so many dead soldiers. Then one exceptionally cold week found Daniel with a mild touch of the flu, and with strict orders from his parents, to stay warmly tucked in bed. Promising that he would remain in bed, his parents left for work, leaving him and the house to entertain themselves. He watched TV for a while, but there weren’t any good programs on - just boring adult stuff. So it was with a sense of frustration that he looked at the house around him, possibly for the first time, and this was the beginning of his interest, that would become such an integral component in his life, though he didn’t know or recognise it - yet.
    His bedroom was one of ten, and larger than a few of his new friend’s lounges. The ceilings were really high, while the walls were clad in wood panelling to chest height, papered with roses the rest. In the middle of the ceiling a large ornate rose sprawled out like some impossible octopus, having a large eight light chandler as its centre piece. Daniel usually found this fascinating to watch from the safety of his bed, making endless faces at it, imagining what could lurk behind the shadows cast on the ceiling. But on this fateful day his frustration at being sick left him restless, and wanting more. So the idea came that he should go exploring, really exploring - but where?
    Like most boys in their early teens, the urge to do something different or at least interesting overrode all considerations, even ill health. So throwing on warm clothes he began his quest, with little thought as to where it should lead. For a time he wandered through the house aimlessly, viewing the rooms and things left behind by previous owners. The house had been brought from an estate - with furniture, paintings and all sorts of ornate stuff, it was as his father kept saying, a package deal, lock stock and barrel. His father didn’t really care about the house and its contents, it was the land underneath that mattered. As such Daniel’s parents hadn’t really paid much attention to the house and its contents, all they really wanted was a sucker to come along, and give them more than they had paid for it. From an early age Daniel learnt the value of things, and what profit could be made from fads, inflation and capital gain. Over the years his family managed to turn their fortunes, they had been lower middle class, now they were well on their way to being well off.
    Daniel’s exploration was spurred on with such thoughts, for as in other homes, he usually found things tucked out of sight, some of which he had been allowed to sell, on the terms that he invest the money yielded. As his parents repeated time and again, if you can spot an opportunity and make a profit from it - well son do it! As such Daniel found himself left with pretty much a free reign, well when it came to being enterprising. Supposedly this was a form of education, one that was firmly entrenched in the real world, for any profit or loss he might make was his problem or reward.
    There had been a time Daniel found a large collection of pictures of naked ladies - till his mother had found them also, alas she didn’t always let him keep the spoils of his finds! In another temporary home he had found a large black revolver, hidden under a loose and squeaky floor board, on the stairs into an attic. Knowing instinctively the value of such a treasure, and that he would never be allowed to keep it if anyone else saw it, he hid it - keeping it as a secret treasure. From time to time he would drag it from the new places he had found to conceal it, safely in its case, with bullets, and a cleaning kit. To the eyes of a young man this was as the holy grail, one ready and waiting to be fired. Even with his lack of years Daniel knew the folly of firing such a device, the noise alone would be enough to get him in trouble, that was if the gun didn’t blow up in his hand - let alone the consequences of the bullet’s flight.
    It was with these memories clearly in mind, that he now looked to this huge old place, with its history and infamy, Daniel felt sure he must find something interesting for his searching. The search began in earnest on the third floor, in the largest of the ten bedrooms. This room was now his parents, so he didn’t spend too much time in here, least he leave too many clues as to his activities in their absence. A quick and unproductive search now complete, he combed the adjoining rooms, which still had a number of beds, bookcases, mirrors and associated bedroom attire in them. To his eye these weren’t treasures, not even any girlie books, gold, gems or revolvers were to be found.
    So quickly the search moved from the upper floors to the ground, and the main rooms. It was his searchers eye then, that started him wondering in the main entrance hallway. In the rest of the house everything felt huge, but down here it seemed cramped, almost as if there were a large portion of the floor sealed off from sight. At this he began knocking on walls and pulling on wall light fittings, as he’d witnessed at the movies, trying to activate a hidden mechanism for opening a wall.
    The novelty of doing this didn’t last long, less than five minutes. Despite not finding a single reward for his trouble, Daniel became lost in the idea of finding a hidden space behind the wall - it became his fantasy. He didn’t find anything of great interest that day, just a small old clock which he spent the rest of the day cleaning, later he found it to be more than just any old clock, but that was another story. Though the house hadn’t yielded much, his suspicions had been aroused, and from that time on he was continually on the look out, especially on the ground floor. There was something wrong there, but he just couldn’t put a finger on it.
    Just before his parents returned from work, Daniel thought he saw a figure in the hallway, a flickering of light, an indeterminate shadow. Thinking he might be discovered by his parents he calling out as he scrambled back to bed, saying something like "I’m just going back to bed, I’ll see you there..." but the shadow simply vanished, as if it had never been... Witnessing this he back tracked briefly, to examine the spot where he thought he’d seen - well something. Strangely there was a cold spot here, a shiver ran down his spine and the hairs on the nape of his neck rose, yes there was something definitely strange about this place!

~ Several months later, in the heart of the winter, Daniel again had the opportunity to explore the house. This time he was better prepared, having measured the outside dimensions of the house, at an earlier and more opportune time. So armed with tape measure, intent and patience, he began sizing rooms and adding up the space inside the house, determined to find an answer or explanation for this most infuriating of puzzles. As suspected, there was a shortfall in the measurements, Daniel couldn’t figure out what the exact discrepancies were, but they were there all right. Even at his age he knew that tape measures and figures never lied, not like so many other things - this much so far in his life short life he had learnt. Having confirmed his suspicions he had to wonder how anyone could have missed so much space - then again the house was huge...
    So the game evolved and continued, and having found the short fall, Daniel began trying to guess where the hidden area might be.     Looking round, it didn’t take much detective work to figure out that there must be a closed area in the middle of the house, since all the outside rooms had windows. From the height of the middle of the stairs Daniel stopped and sat, trying to become the house, trying to hide away a space within him - without it being obvious. It was a good game for a teenager, but pretending to be a house didn’t capture his interest for long, so he began wandering again.
    Walking from entrance-way to kitchen, he entered the kitchen come galley - an eye for more than food, for such a big house the kitchen seemed small and pokey, and this was the clue. At the doorway he looked back down the length of the hallway, then the depth of the kitchen - they didn’t match! So it was he found something that wasn’t there, and for the rest of the day, and a score more he he would have to try and find a way in - without tipping his hand to his parents.
    Later that day, having come to some rather startling conclusions, about the house around him, again he saw a shadowy figure, this time in the hallway next to his bed room. For a second Daniel thought it to be the outline of a girl, a very pretty girl, but of course to a young man like himself, he saw pretty girls in almost everything. Smiling at the thought of a girlie magazine he had seen not so long ago - then he remembered where he was, what he should be doing, he blinked, and the vision was gone. Gathering his resolve around him, he went to explore the point where this impossible vision had been, and sure enough there was a cold spot there.
    So it was that he found more than he had been searching for, another mystery to be resolved. There was a real need in him to solve this one, a reason even he could not explain, even though his legs wanted to run and hide - smart legs!
    This second encounter with such a ghostly vision gave birth to the idea that the house might be haunted, it was a great idea, way better than any other boring notion. Daniel was captured with this for a time, then out of habit he laughed the idea off as being ridiculous - just as he father would. But a youth can accept wild improbable ideas, as ghosts and haunted houses far more readily than an adult. In fact this notion, of the house being haunted was such a good idea, Daniel just couldn’t dismiss it, so by default he accepted it...      Discoveries or not, he didn’t mention his find or suspicions to his parents. The hidden room was to be his special secret - his secret garden, right within their home, and as for the ghostly apparition of a fetching girl, well she could share his dreams and fantasies... ~ The months didn’t pass easily, as they are apt for a thirteen then fourteen year old. The school days seemed endlessly long, and there was only so much a young and budding explorer could get away with, after having wrestled with inquisitive parents, homework, chores and such boring stuff. Despite being shooed off to bed, at various hours, Daniel didn’t escape the grasp of the notion of the secret room or the girl, they lurked in his dreams and fantasies - becoming his invisible companions, the promise of one hell of an adventure.
    To keep such a secret as an adult would have been difficult, and to do so as a young man of fourteen seemed impossible at times. At times Daniel thought he might burst, for not telling someone of his suspicions and discovery. As the winter ground upon them, with sleet, snow, ice and rain, he slyly stole a fair amount of time, searching the walls in the kitchen and the hall - inch by weary inch. Alas for his trouble he couldn’t find a thing, it was as if the area had been meticulously sealed off, walled up, so that none might ever enter this space again... What horrible secrets could be hidden within it?
    During this time of wonderment Daniel began to read those books; Edgar Allen Poe, Stephen King - the weird, strange, and morbid, they became his entertainment. At school he would try to find out anything available on the subject, and leading from this started to pursue the history of the district, looking for clues, especially pertaining to the house. As if turned out his home was one of the first to be built in the area - belonging to a Joseph Fellowbottom, and with a name like that, it was no wonder there might be something to hide.
The house was built in the late 1700’s, Joseph lived in the house from around 1800, during which time the house was completed. He lived with his wife Elenora, and their two children; Sara and Melissa. They were a normal family by all accounts, having nothing to set them apart from the other settlers, except that the master of the house was well off, and a justice of the peace.
    The Fellowbottom’s lived, loved, grew old and died in their beloved house - achieving nothing other than a good life. The house was sold by the one surviving child for several thousand pounds, a veritable King’s ransom at the time. From there the history of the house became chequered and unsettled. In the next hundred odd years there were ten registered owners, one of whom rented out the house - as a massage parlour. There was no telling what might have happened then, what foul play that any one of the hundreds if not thousands of occupants or visitors might have committed... Then he found it, an obscure reference to Melissa Fellowbottom, a single torn line that gave him the shivers.
    “...reputedly haunted by the unfortunate Melissa Fellowbottom, who was found dead at the age of sixteen amongst suspicious circumstances...”
    It made him stop and blink, his suspicions screamed out in acceptance of this line, for not only did the house have secrets within it, it was supposed to be haunted. From that point Daniel trod the halls with a little more respect, and a lot more caution, for who knew who might come floating round the next corner. From time to time he did indeed see ominous shadows - lurking, and there would always be a cold spot to proceed or follow such a sighting. As these events appeared and continued he searched and pursued the lost space problem with less vigour - the thought of finding an answer, amidst the grasp of winter just didn’t appeal. Daniel felt it prudent to leave sleeping ghosts lie, but always in the back of his mind he thought of what it would be like - to have a ghost as a friend.
    Daniel’s father lost his job shortly after this, plunging them into a round of belt tightening. Naturally having his father moping round the house prevented him from his so far free reign, of exploration and investigation. It must have been this and the thought of ghosts that forced him to the activities of other young boys, and so a year passed before he really gave the matter another thought. ~ At sixteen, pressing adulthood hard, Daniel again returned to the problem of the house, but this time from a fresh direction, a new perspective of age and wisdom. Now at almost the same age as Melissa had been when she had died, Daniel felt a kindredship with her, every so often fancying that he could hear her laughter, and would stop as if to talk to her - as if she was really with him. Instead of the shadows receding - like ghosts, as they should, he saw more and more of Melissa in every shadow, the ghost of some impossible past come to haunt him. She was there from morning to night, and there was no pattern to her appearances. Daniel never really got a chance to get a good look at her, nevertheless he behaved as if she was there all the time, which did cramp his style a bit when in the toilet, shower, etc. Despite this, it was a comfort to have her vigil over him, the shadows lost their intimidating depths, and he could smile at the house - despite its foreboding looks and past.
    Eventually his father got another job and circumstances made a turn for the better, and as things returned to normal, again came the talk of shifting house. Over the years Daniel had not said a thing against this, accepting his parent’s wishes as if they were law. But now, as he had just become settled and accepted by his piers, the thought of shifting and starting over yet again enraged him as never before. So it came that he stated his case clearly and sycinctly, if the house was sold he would stay - like the ghost! Daniel remembered the resulting look on the faces of his father and mother, never had he seen them so shocked.
    “I didn’t know you felt this way about the old place - I thought you were frightened of it...” his father chewed on the thought.
    “I used to be, but now I like it, it’s got character - a real sense of history. I want to stay, all my friends are here, do we have to sell?” and such pleading brought him an unexpected ally - his mother.
    “Daniel is right, we’ve been on the move all our married life - isn’t it about time we settled down, even if it’s only till he finishes school.”
    “I suppose I could use this as collateral to buy another place, I mean this monstrosity is fast becoming a landmark, as the other relics are pulled down or restored. This area could yet become a desirable spot, could be with a bit of paint and DIY we might be sitting on that gold mine we’ve been looking for...”
    That was the end of the discussion there and then. Daniel 1, and his father - he’d score about a million out of 1, as always.
    “You were right dear,” his mother aired later, after his father had gone to ring the bank manager, “you can only take so much change in your life - I’m proud of the way you stood up to your father and made him listen. I don’t think he would have taken if from anyone else!” Then with a motherly hug, she proved everything would be all right - as the house smiled down upon them.
    So it was that Daniel came to be shaken out of his complacency, refocusing on the issues and situation that could have been lost to him. Taking into account his father’s fickle nature, he decided to pursue the problem with a little more urgency - least the house be sold out under them, removing them from the equation. Unfortunately the sightings abated for a time, and Daniel could find no reason for this, other than the fact it was a particularly cold winter, so he planned, dreamed and waited. ~ Daniel timed the start of his last ditched effort, to try and resolve all this on the first day of the summer holidays - the atmosphere and time just felt right. The sightings of the shadow had returned and grown ten fold, just about everywhere he looked or turned now, there would be a flicker of movement, and frequent colds spot reminded him that he was definitely not alone. For some reason he could not explain, he felt Melissa had loved the house and the early summer - everything so green, fresh and alive. The other strange thing was he felt Melissa spurring him on, for him to find the hidden room, to communicate, to be set free. His new approach to the problem was as novel as it was overdue, whether it would work was debatable, but it had to be worth a try... as his father was fond of saying.
    First, he found a manhole for access underneath the floor, for it was from under the house that he hoped to resolve this long running mystery. His decision to attack the problem from underneath the house, was driven by the discovery that every room seemed to have a manhole of some sorts. Daniel was banking on the hidden room having a manhole too. Having found an access way, he waited for a suitable time - when his parents wouldn’t find him, in the midst of an action he couldn’t rationally explain.
    Again he had to wait out his parents, during this time he could do nothing more than return to the social circle of his friends - and play. The summer holidays went on forever, a lazy time where the only worries were of what time his mother would drag him out of bed to do nothing. He had only taken four of his eight weeks holiday before his parents had to return to work, so he had his chance. Telling his parents he would be going out with his friends, going to pictures and adventure parks, he told his friends the opposite, that he had lots of things to do, and when finished his arduous labours, that he would be in touch. With these half truths told, the stage was set for him to start the final exploration, to resolve the puzzle that his life was beginning to revolve round. From this time on the shadows changed their intensity, meaning, and habits, as he began his quest in earnest.
    The first sightings had been on the ground floor, next to the hidden area, then they had followed him up the stairs, into the hallway adjoining his bedroom, and finally the bedroom itself. The transition into his private life had been easy, the walls of his bedroom no longer stopping them or it, now Daniel would as likely wake up to find a new shadow lurking in the shadowy depths of his bedroom than not. In the beginning he was scared of this new intrusion into his privacy, but as the days turned to weeks, and no harm befell him, he became used to it - almost expecting more. During this time he began talking to the shadows, addressing them as if they were Melissa, and if he wasn’t mistaken the cold spots changed to that of warm blurs. Still he was young and easily confused - there had to be others explanation to all this... ~ On the first day that his parents returned to work, Daniel launched into the task, he had thought about it long enough, he wanted, needed an answer before he went mad - or was he already there? Daniel started with a gathering of all the instruments needed, including such items as; a trouble lamp, tools, leather gloves and suitably tough clothes.
    Taking a final deep breath, saying a prayer or two, and questioning his sanity one last time, Daniel finally plunged into the eerie dark depths of the house’s underside. If the outsides had looked a bit run down, the undersides were ten times worse. Nearly two hundred years of not seeing the light of day, had turned the ground into a mould fetishists delight. Thankfully the space between the floor and the ground, was enough to enable him to crawl on his hands and knees, making a bad job just bearable. Ignoring the million odd cob / spider weds, and other dead stuff, he made a bee line for the space that had alluded him. The going was rough but manageable, with nothing unusual to prevent or turn him from his target, except the odd pile of some substance Daniel couldn’t identify. So with tape measure in tow, he came to rest at the exact centre of the supposed hidden room, at last there would be some answers.
    Turning his attention then to above him, he looked for another man hole, a way in and up into something he felt to be the heart of the house. In the overly bright light of the trouble lamp Daniel had to search every inch of the under side of the floor, to try and find access, there wasn’t any! The discovery of this reinforced his belief, that the secret space hadn’t been a room in its own right - but part of the kitchen or hall, for they still had their own man holes. This very fact said to him in ominous overtones, that the space had been walled off for some reason, he wondered again if it might not be connected with Melissa...
    In total Daniel spend about three hours crawling round under the house, and though he didn’t find a way into the walled off area, he did find something rather interesting. The house had a cellar or storm shelter underneath it, all Daniel could see were the walls of it coming from ground floor level and disappearing into the dirt. From the general lay of the land, he figured there must have been a entrance into it somewhere at the other end of the kitchen. To him the kitchen looked to be connected to both of the house’s anomalies - being the hidden space and the walled off cellar / basement. For the time being he gave up trying to get into the hidden space from underneath, and focused instead on trying to locate the walled off entrance to the cellar.
    Cleaned up, tools replaced, and ready to greet his parents when they returned, Daniel filled in the remainder of the time by knocking on walls as done with the hidden space. This time there had to be a walled off door, close, and he was going to find it. It didn’t take long to reason where the entrance had to be, it was beside another doorway in the kitchen, behind a wall unit that held cutlery, plates and utensils. Daniel had to admit, that no one would have been any the wiser of the existence of the door, without having looked under the house first. Maybe this was the reason, that no one had ever tried to resolve the mysteries the house held - for who would have bothered to look for them, especially not in a brothel...
    Examining the wall unit closely revealed it to be merely screwed to the door frame, undoing the screws and pulling it to one side, should be enough to enable him to explore the depths of the house, to his heart’s content. The only problem with this was, that it would take more than just a boy of sixteen to “man handle” the wall unit that had stood on this spot, for only God knew how many years. By the general condition of the unit, borer holes and all, Daniel wouldn’t have been surprised if it had been in the house every since the 1800’s.
    No matter how many alternatives Daniel could dream up, it looked more and more like he would need an accomplice for the rest of his quest, apart from Melissa that is, or a very cunning story to spin to his parents. Daniel was inclined to try the cunning story first, and if that failed, then and only then tip his hand, persuade someone else he wasn’t going mad.
    The kitchen was a drab affair, having had little done to it since before it had been rented, over twenty years ago. Since then it had deteriorated to a condition where it looked almost irreparable. Having run out of fresh ideas Daniel returned to the original one of a cunning story, there was one brewing, but the only question was - would it be cunning enough? During the evening meal the plan was floated, he was ready to expand or modify it to whatever extent necessary.
    “I was in the kitchen this morning, and there was a rat - eating the cat food...” this got his mother’s attention straight away, in a rather startling way.
    Looking round, as if she were expecting to be attacked at any second, “mum” showed she didn’t like his story, while “dad” just smiled at her reactions, sure in his belief that no damned rat could scare him. Nevertheless he took the bait hook like and sinker, entering the conversation - his ambush.
    “Really, was it a big ’un’?”
    Daniel held up his arms and gestured at about the size of a small cat, “It must have been about have the size of Spirit.” Spirit was one of their cats, and rather a large one at that. For a second he could have sworn dad blinked, but he recovered before Daniel could really be sure.
    “Where did it come from?”
    “From behind the wall unit in the kitchen, there must be a hole there or something - I could find and fill it up while you’re at work...” so Daniel planted the seeds of thought within their minds, that Daniel might be persuaded to do a spot of work for them.
    The idea didn’t take straight away, but later on that night dad came to say good-night and discuss something with him. “I know you’re keener on this place than we are, so I was thinking maybe we can use that to our mutual advantage. When I was a kid a little extra money always came in handy, and since you mentioned you might be interested in cleaning up the hole in the kitchen - how would feel about painting it as well...”
    “I don’t know if I can paint a hole...” The question caught him unawares, and seeing the chance to explore the secrets of the house Daniel agreed - without really thinking it through.
    Dad of course was delighted, liking to get a good deal on slave labour, without having to fight with the union for it. So his holidays came to an abrupt end, his story to his friends coming true, thanks to his mother’s recommendations to dad - at how good Daniel was at wielding a paint brush. Some times her best intentions did him more harm than good, but that’s what mothers are best at isn’t it?
    So far his plan had worked well, in fact too well, and his parents hadn’t smelt a rat - so to speak.
    His parents helped him clean out the wall unit and unscrew it from the wall, and then came the tricky part of moving it without them discovering what he was up to. This insane idea of keeping his suspicions of the house to himself persisted, not even he could understand the motive - for some reason it just seemed the decent thing to do, for the Fellowbottom’s. With the memory of the shadow’s continued vigilance he kept “mum”, or should that be Melissa - happy, the one thing in this world that he didn’t want to do was upset her, for who knew what she might do...
    Keeping the secret then was more important that anything else, and diverting a keen father wasn’t an easy job. With a fair amount of effort and a bit of inspirational cunning Daniel managed to get him off the idea, of investigating the area behind the wall unit, and on to attacking the rest of the kitchen. Together they spent several back breaking hours taking things off walls, emptying cupboards, demolishing anything that looked rotten or beyond repair - quickly the place began to resemble a bomb blast sight. The work came to a halt as a bed time came and went - since the only way they could get Daniel to stop, was to stop themselves.
    “I think that’s enough for one night dear.” mum said to dad, exchanging knowing glances.
    “Yeah okay,” dad turned to Daniel, “I’ll get some paint and things tomorrow, is that all right?”
    Daniel had to say yes now, just part of the price of fulfilling his quest. “Okay, I’ll finish cleaning up the place tomorrow.”
    They left the kitchen for the night then, to wash up and retire. Daniel’s parents were suspicious of his motives, but they didn’t question his actions, whatever it was that he was cooking up, if nothing else they were going to take advantage of his cheap labours.
    The time was after twelve o’clock and Daniel felt very tired, but it was impossible to sleep, the excitement of the coming discoveries egging his mind on. With the curtains parted, for a time he stared at the ceiling in the half light of a full moon, where familiar shadows played with new ones, that defied his sleepy brain’s abilities. Just as he had witnessed before, he was sure that out there somewhere ghosts were waiting, waiting to be set free, a person could make a job of this - a career with a difference, and there was a promise that life need never be dull. Just as he was coming to a conclusion about this he finally drifted off, taking the answer with him into the realms of the subconscious.
    Good night Melissa... ~ In the morning he woke early, just on seven o’clock. Quickly he got up and threw on his old work clothes, nothing was going to get in his way today. Despite how early he had managed to get up, he hadn’t managed to beat his parents - who rose at some hour never seen, real early.
    “You all set for work Daniel?” his father asked, but before he could answer mum had a comment of her own.
    “Are you sure you want to do this? I mean it’s your school holidays and you won’t be seeing you friends...”
    “It’s all right mum, most of them have gone away on holiday, they won’t be back till a week before school starts. I’ll see them then. I don’t mind mucking round in the kitchen, and I quite like painting,” turning then to play out his diversionary hand, “so what’s the hourly rate for doing up houses dad?”
    Dad just smiled that shrewd smile, and started to calculate how cheaply Daniel might be brought. “If you do a good job, I’ll give you what,” turning to make eye contact with his partner, “say a couple of hundred dollars.”
    A couple of hundred dollars is a lot of money to a sixteen year old, it might not be able to buy too many things, but it would mean a great deal to his bank balance. But if dad had taught him anything it was not to be bought cheaply, and never to take the first offer you’re given, who knows, there might be more on offer.
    “What about an even five hundred for the lot...”
    Dad spluttered in his drink, at the size of the exorbitant sum. “What!” he couldn’t believe his ears.
    “It’s a lot of work, and I’ll work real hard to make sure it’s the best kitchen in the damned street.”
    “That’ll take some doing, there are some pretty ritzy houses in this street...”
    “So just how much do you think all this is going to cost?” mum enquired, ever mindful of their money.
    “I would expect something like, what, say five grand, we’re not replacing walls or cupboards, but there will be new appliances, and this stuff will need to be refurbished.” yet he had contacts to keep the price down.
    “So we’re going to be getting part of this real cheap?” mum pressed.
    “Well yes, but that’s no reason to throw money away...”
    “Come on he’s your son, it was his enterprising idea to do this in the first place, let alone keep the house - what’s it’s current valuation, double, triple what we paid for it?”
    “Triple...” he forced out, as if spitting out his favourite food. “I’ve done a lot of work, put in a lot of money into this place, and the increase in value - well that’s why I’d like to sell it, it can’t go up much more...”
    “Wasn’t that what you said last time you wanted to sell it?” mum reminded him.
    “Well yes, but that’s no reason to throw money away...” he fell back on his old stock sayings, good reliable phrases, used when he couldn’t back up his arguments.
    “Sounds like he’s got you over a barrel, like father like son...” mum smiled, rubbing their victory in, in the nicest possible way.
    Dad brightened at this, now there was a conciliation, “Yeah he is, got the Boon touch,” then patting his son on the shoulder, “very well, you’ve got a deal!” in his eyes there was pride mixed with confusion, a father’s pride, and a miser’s dislike at being forced to give away money.
    “That’s great - let me at it then!”
    “Hang on, hang on,” mum laughed, “you’d better have some breakfast first, you’ll need a full stomach and all your strength to take on this lot.” she waved to the dim and scruffy room that was their kitchen.
    Even though the kitchen was a mess she managed to cook a decent breakfast, of; bacon, eggs, potato cakes, fish fingers, with toast and coffee - of course. It took only twenty minutes to produce and to wolf down this substantial feed, then it was time for them to go - and for Daniel to start the journey into the unknown. Wishing his parents a good day at work, he waved goodbye at the front door, but his heart was already pulling the wall unit from the hidden door - even before his body had taken a step.
    Back in the kitchen Daniel stood facing the unit, he knew it wouldn’t be light, but hopefully he wouldn’t need to move it very far. With cautious hands he grabbed one side of it, and began to pull - there was a slight creek from the wooden monstrosity but little else. It was obvious that he would have to apply much more force, so he placed a foot on the wall beside the unit and heaved with all his might, the wall unit moved, a fraction. Daniel tried this method several more times with similar results, till the unit had moved enough for him to shine the trouble-lamp into the recess, confirming that there was something there. His shock was total when he found there was a door, of unpainted oak, looking as old as time itself. Covered in cobwebs and a layer of grime, Daniel was sure it had stood untouched for many years. His excitement escalated another couple of notches up the scale, at the thought of going where no man had gone before - well this century anyway.
    The method of shifting the wall unit while successful for mere inches, proved no match to the need for several feet, Daniel started looking for an alternative method of shifting the titanic thing. In the end, after having rummaged round in the garage for about twenty minutes, he returned armed with several blocks of wood, a jemmy bar and some particularly wicked looking screwdrivers. Placing the blocks of wood between the unit and the wall, he shoved the bar between them, and with a deep breath pushed with all his might. This action brought him several inches extra access, so he was only thwarted until supplying another block of wood to the gap.
    Daniel continued with the process till running out of blocks of wood, the gap having grown to about a foot. While the gap was small, he could just squeeze in, and his enthusiasm ran away with him temporarily fear - so he came to be covered in cobwebs and grime. Enthusiasm ran out as quick as it had arrived, the confines he found himself in were like walking into a crypt, now all he wanted was to get out of the coffin. Quickly he retreated from the gap, frantically wiping the horrid webs from his face and upper body, it was his first lesson in looking before he leapt.
    Suitably rearmed, with a broom and rags, Daniel re-entered, attacking the gap with vigour, this time to clean it out. Having achieved this he used the trouble-lamp to expose the true nature of the door, that lead to the basement or dungeon... The door looked as solid as the day it had been built, and Daniel was sure it could withstand the barrage of attacking natives or those from a darker age, for quite some time. On the threshold of entering the basement he hesitated, what would he find, and after he had found it, would he regret his decisions and the price that followed this quest.
    Putting a hand up to the door he knocked three times, as if asking permission to enter. Daniel shook his head at the action, as a shiver run down his spine, half expecting a reply.
    “Ready or not here I come...” Daniel whispered, and then grabbing the tarnished brass knob turned it. The mechanism of the door squeaked as the knob turned, till it would turn no more. So this was it - and taking a further deep breath he started to push on the door, but nothing happened, for it would seem that the door was locked!
    Daniel should have been prepared for this, but the disappointment bit deeply into his enthusiasm and anticipation, he had been robbed. Letting go of the door knob it stayed in the same position, age having made it stiff and unwilling to do any work. Since the locking mechanism was almost frozen, he wondered if the door wasn’t so much locked, but stuck. Taking this as the easy method of opening this puzzle, out of a deep sense of frustration he kicked the door, and the part that he hit broke free from the frame. With a promise of success he put his back into the job, literally, using all his strength to push at the door, using the wall unit for leverage. There was no immediate result of this action, but he was determined not to be beaten by a mere door.
    Redoubling his efforts found him buckling under the pressure and the pain of exertion, and just as he was reconsidering his method, another section of the door came unstuck. With a tearing sound like paper, the door slowly succumbed to the constant pressure, and before Daniel quite realised the victory the door was screeching its way open!
    Halting his headlong charge Daniel stopped pushing on the door. With his back to the door he felt slightly nervous at the idea of turning round, to witness what had been uncovered. This fear didn’t remain very long, for the power of curiosity started to claw its way to the surface - there could be no question that he had to look, only a question of summoning the courage to do so. Bending to pick up the lamp, he used its light like a protecting shroud, that would penetrate the darkness, and banish any fear. Hovering at the door way, with the door about a quarter of the way open, Daniel could only see a thick darkness lurking in wait. Almost reluctantly he used his free hand to push at the door, it moved easier but with just as much noise as before.
    The loud squealing turned into a deep moan as the door completed its journey, to leave him face to face with the basement. The light of the lamp filled a space of about ten feet, in this space he could just made out stairs descending into the room, dropping away and down. There was a sea of cobwebs and a thick layer of dust covering everything, which could make if difficult to know what he was walking on, and the objects that were found. Clipping the lamp to the handle of the broom, Daniel held it out in front of him, and seeing that the way was clear - proceeded to sweep a path before him.
    First of all he removed the airborne webs, then swept each step as he took it. The stairs and surrounding walls seemed in good condition, having withstood the test of time admirably. For all their merit he didn’t dwell on these facts, for his mind was firmly fixed on trying to solve where the end of this trek might lead. The journey on the stairs took several minutes to complete, and at the end of it Daniel diverted his attention to where he had come to be - in the basement.
    As expected, the room was huge - piled with boxes and items covered in cloths. The cloth covered items gave the place an especially spooky atmosphere, like being in a crypt. Daniel felt another twinge of fear at the core of his being, at the picture this place inspired. Naturally the question of his sanity sprang to mind during this time, but he had come this far, and would only be doubly a coward to retreat now. Pushing himself like never before he entered the room proper, to see if there were some form of lighting that could be used to advantage. Constant with the idea, that this place had been unused for a long time, he found no evidence of electric lighting. There were candle stick holders strategically stuck on support beams, giving promise to artificial light, not exactly what he had in mind. Amazingly enough there were candles in most of these, but the matches were in the kitchen, for the moment the lamp had to suffice - anyway, what were one or two hundred year old candles worth?
    With apprehension clearly evident in his actions, Daniel started to walk the depths of the basement, wondering at the objects that stood shrouded in these time dusted sheets. One very tall and ominous object stood head and shoulders over the others, Daniel figured this to be the place to start, he had to know what such a thing could be. With excitement building and blotting out any fear, he lifted the hem of the sheet to reveal varnished wood, could this be some sort of vertical coffin? For a moment he hesitated at the though, that was foolish...
    The varnish had aged, giving the wood a smoky appearance, and pulling the sheet higher Daniel was greeted with a constant face of time. In the end Daniel had to pull the sheets completely off to find an answer to what this box was, and only when he stood in front of this object did he recognise it. The six foot plus box was in fact a clock, a grandfather clock - but like none he had seen. He stood dumb-founded at the sheer size and grandeur of the thing, but the other objects were beckoning even louder now, for who knew what other treasures there might be here. With a last admiring glance Daniel imitated his father’s calculating style - must be worth all of ten grand, and left it at that.
    A distant rumbling and a hollow feeling broke in upon his concentration, the sound of a stomach - his. So it was that the hour of twelve announced itself, as it was by the grandfather clock, it too spoke of the hour twelve, very ominous to be sure... So far he spent four hours gaining entrance and wandering through the basement, hadn’t done a drop of work in the kitchen. Feeling a responsibility to his promise, the secret, the money, and hunger, he left the basement temporarily, to grab a bite to eat and do a token amount of work.
    For an hour or so Daniel bided his time by cleaning and eating, but his heart wasn’t in it - he wanted, needed, to go back to the basement and finish what had been started. As patience ran out, he turned to return, wondering more and more just what he had started? This question raised an even more immediate problem, what should he tell his parents? A number of possibilities presented themselves, not the least being to tell one of his school mates, and to have them help him put things right. In the midst of thinking these thoughts he dismissed them out of hand, those at school already thought him strange, without giving them further cause to fire the heart of such rumours. No he was just going to have to bite the bullet, one way or the other this was going to be a family affair, kept in the family.
    To keep this a secret meant he was going to have to the wall unit back into position, despite the impossibility of the action it was worth a try. Testing his theory, that he would not be able to push the unit back into position, he proved the theory that his family would share his discovery. So it was he came to face the facts, his parents were going to discover the basement, and part of what he had been up to. Hopefully it wouldn’t arouse further suspicions, that they should see this as a free extension to the house, and nothing more. Maybe he could throw them off the scent by asking for a neat thousand dollars, and call it a finders fee!
    That evening when mum and dad returned from a work, they walked into a surprising situation, for not only had Daniel made a concerted effort in cleaning up the kitchen area, but there was an unplanned addition to their house - a bonus. Walking through the ruins that had been once a shabby but orderly house, they didn’t see or understand the reason for Daniel’s excitement straight away, examining the obvious signs of his progress first.
    “Okay Daniel, what have you found!” his father was exasperated, sensing excitement like gold rush fever, but unable to detect where the mother load could be.
    “Can I keep what I find, like you promised?” Daniel insisted, taking a chance on any advantage, before being overruled.
    “Well, that sounds fair.” mum agreed, just as eager to see what Daniel had found.
    “Now Daniel, I don’t know about that...” the taste of money, it was in the air - either that or dust.
    “You did promise, remember?” she made him answer properly.
    “Okay, whatever it is you can have or sell it, as long as it’s legal!” confirming that he wouldn’t approve at of revolvers or glossy magazines.
    “Okay Daniel, what have you found, silver spoons, a broach, diamond rings, a chest of gold coins?” she was way off the scent.
    Puffing up like a balloon Daniel had them follow him, to the space behind the wall unit, then proudly proclaimed, “This!”
It took a few seconds for it to register that Daniel wasn’t pointing out a overly large rat hole, but a full blown door, a whole new room and world of possibilities. To his father’s credit, he in return surprised Daniel - proving he was still a crafty old bird.
    “This was what you were after all along,” scratching a spot on his chin, “the kitchen thing was just a rouse.”
    “Now Bill, you can’t possibly know that...”
    “Well son?” dad asked for confirmation.
    “Yes.” he was a cornered rat, an excited and hopeful one.
    “I thought so, you are becoming more like me every day,” then turning to his wife continued, “you remember what I was like when I was young?”
    “Yes only too well.” she agreed, admitting something Daniel wasn’t experienced enough to fully comprehend, but he had an idea, or two... “We’ll be keeping a close eye on you from now on,” she became suddenly serious, “you don’t have any girl friends at school do you?”
    “Mum!” Daniel was shocked at such a suggestion, but it was food for thought.
    “Of course he hasn’t,” dad came to his rescue, “none of them could afford such a handsome young man. Anyway he’s got more important rainbows to chase - well at the moment anyway...” chuckling in a low suggestive way.
    “What’s down there, apart from spiders and webs?” mum wanted to know, unwilling to proceed until the coast was confirmed to be clear.
    “I’ll show you!” Daniel grabbed the lamp, eager to do some more exploring, this time with helpers.
    They followed him into the depths of the basement, at first reluctantly, but as the size of the treasure became apparent, their enthusiasm grew like a bean stalk.
    “This stuff must be worth tens of thousands, if not more!” mum couldn’t believe her eyes.
    “No question of that, and it’s all in such good condition, you’d hardly credit it’s age.” dad was equally amazed.
    “I can still keep it?” it didn’t sound good.
    “Come on son,” dad turned to face him, “this is too much money to talk about like that, we thought you’d found something at most in the hundreds of dollars. But be realistic, that clock for example must be worth twenty thousand, if it’s worth a dollar!”
    Daniel was staggered, it made five hundred dollars for cleaning up the kitchen, or a thousand dollars finder fee seem like small change. And this was coming from someone who’d never even seen five hundred dollars, even though his bank balance was in excess of it. Then Daniel had this insane idea, it changed the nature of his life and cemented his path on a course of parapsychology. This stuff belonged to Melissa’s family, and therefore Melissa - by default, and since she was the soul surviving member - but she was dead wasn’t she? His mind became muddled and confused, for Melissa was as real to him as she had ever been in life, he couldn’t talk or touch her, but she was there all the same...
    “Son are you all right?” dad caught him as he had been about to collapse.
    “Huh?” for a moment Daniel didn’t recognise his father, “oh yes, dad, mum... I suddenly don’t feel that well.” and for a change it was the truth.
    “Must be the dust and dirt.” mum confirmed, “Let’s get him out of here, we’ll leave this stuff for today, it’s been here for God knows how long, one more day won’t make any difference.”
    So they left the treasure trove to itself, to celebrate the find, and because of his efforts in the kitchen, it was decided they should get takeaways, McDonald’s - dad was picking up the tab.
    That night, in bed and still groggy from his strange experience, Daniel lay and wondered what had happened in this house, if it were connected to the basement or kitchen. As if there was an answer to this his friend the shadow, Melissa made as bold as to move from her customary place, being the darkest corner of the room. The light from his bedside lamp wasn’t very bright, the bulb had blown earlier in the week, dad had replaced it with some dull old thing, Daniel couldn’t even read by it, but at least it gave out enough light to find the bed at night. If Daniel didn’t know better, he might have come to the conclusion that the new bulb was to ensure that he went to bed at a decent hour, or to save on power...
    As the dim light reached out into the darkness, for the first time Daniel thought he could actually make out a figure in the depths of the shadow. To his mind it was the figure of a young girl, beautiful and alluring, in a sad sort of way. Their was a light in her eyes, but it wasn’t from the bed side lamp.
    “What do you want?” Daniel began to inch away from the figure, as fear rose within him.
    The figure that could have been Melissa didn’t say a thing, it just kept on coming, and as the figure approached she opened her arms wide, as if trying to take back something that had been stolen from her. Panic was strong now, but there was no escape, Daniel would have screamed but couldn’t make a sound - not even a squeak. Before he could rise to run, she was upon him, a shadowy figure of no substance, yet as real as anyone from school and twice as scary. Seeing that there was no escape Daniel shut his eyes at the last second, hoping for a reprieve, knowing there to be no escape - she had caught him!
    It was warm, he was surrounded, smothered in a cloud of warmth, and something more - oh much, much more. For an indeterminate time he basked in the strangeness of a feeling like no other, then something began to gnaw at his senses. At first he thought it was his imagination, but as the feeling persisted he realised it was more than this - Melissa was trying to talk to him!
    “What do you want?” he spoke out loud, repeating his challenge in rather more unfriendly a manner than he really wished to convey, but he was scared. The warmth ebbed slightly, there was an instability suggesting that it might vanish completely, before it did Daniel rethought his strategy. “I’m sorry, please forgive me, I want to be your friend, but you scared me...” trying the honest approach, as dad said, if all else fails honesty is always a good ploy.
    The warmth responded to this like the hottest heat wave he had ever experienced, it threatened to burn him up!
    “Okay, okay, please!” he gasped, “you will hurt me if you carry on like that...” immediately the heat receded, returning to that soothing warmth. “Thank you!” acknowledging her swift response.
    As if she were capable of talking she sent a dip of cold, possibly open to interpretation, you are welcome.
    The next problem then, now that they had made contact, was what they were going to talk about. Daniel could hardly ask her who she thought was going to win the world series, or what it was like being dead. The only thing he was sure of, was that if he didn’t say something to capture her interest she would leave, and that would be worse - oh God so much worse!
    “You’ve been watching for a long time now,” asking and telling her, “and I kind of like it. It’s as if we’re friends already, friends through thick and thin. Melissa, that is your name isn’t it?” hoping she would identify herself. Again came that warm affirmation, that he took to be a yes, “My name is Daniel, you know I found the basement today, is that why you’re here?”
Again she responded with a yes.
    “Does it have anything to do with your life here?”
    This time the answer was a searing hot yes.
    “Okay,” Daniel squirmed in discomfort, “sorry for saying the wrong thing.” wondering just how much harm she could do with these feelings of warmth. A wave of coolness flowed over him, like cool breeze after the heat of the sun in the desert, Daniel interpreted this as a sorry. “Do you want to be friends?” he changed tact, trying to find a safe topic, and this seemed pretty safe.
    There was a brief hesitation, as if she had to ask someone’s permission, then the answer came like a flood - Yes!
    “Well if we’re going to be friends, you’re going to have to promise that you won’t hurt me, promise?”
    While there were no spoken words between them, the intent was very clear, even at the beginning, so followed a more controlled but nevertheless meaningful yes.
    “Are you with me all the time?” he wanted to know next, to which she told him no, and that was at least a relief, it could have been embarrassing.
    “Can you follow me out of the house?” the answer was a surprising and frightening yes.
    “Can you come to me at any time?” yet another yes.
    “Will you ever leave?” Daniel tried to find a limit to her allegiance, this time she answered coolly, no.
    For a time Daniel remained silent, trying to fathom if his earlier ill feelings were responsible for this, and if this might not be a dream. Finally, at half past two in the morning, he had to call it a night, dead tired and desperate for sleep - he just had to say good night.
    “Look I’m tired, can we continue this later, today.” the feeling that came back was so strong, not a simple hot or cold, but a real feeling, one of intense sorrow, he just about cried. Shaken, he realised the power he was dealing with, he could only wonder at her limits, and if they would eventually achieve speech, somehow he felt they might.
    “I’m sorry...” Daniel held out a hand, the warmth receded from round him to rest lightly in this hand, then it was gone and he was alone.
    Daniel couldn’t remember feeling quite as alone as just now, nor as sad. As these feelings grew he recalled what she had said, she was with him most of the time, at times obvious and others not, she had retreated somewhere, but not left him. There was no rhyme nor reason to all this, it had been a hard and disturbing day, but with the ease of youth Daniel managed to close his eyes, wishing the troubles and questions of the world away, seeking the refuge of a familiar warm darkness... ~ Dad woke him early the next morning, announcing that he wasn’t going to work, explaining it away easily, that he would be of more use here, helping him. In other words he wanted in on the goodies, one way or the other - after all there was money involved.
    Once he had gone Daniel looked for Melissa, but of her there was no signs, had she slept in? Dressing quickly, he joined his parents in the kitchen, the hole in the wall / door way, where the wall unit had been was now totally exposed. With the moving of the unit they could judge the size of things, it was clear that his control of the situation was over.
    “Come on Daniel,” dad encouraged him, “get into your breakfast, we’ve got some serious digging round to do.”
    “What about the kitchen?” Daniel wondered just how much he would have to do.
    “We’ll leave that till later, what we find today may pay for the whole thing...”
    “So I can’t keep any of the stuff?” masking a growing sense of despair, dad was on the job, and would make sure that he got what he felt was due him - like everything.
    “Yes you can,” mum stepped in, “don’t worry, I’ll make sure of that...”
    “The clock.” Daniel stated his claim, of course dad responded immediately.
       “Get real, that’s got to be worth a small fortune.”
    “Well that’s apt, Daniel’s only a small character,” mum ruffled his hair, “you can have the clock, even if it stands head and shoulders over you.”
    “Jean!”
    “No, he found the basement, he’s got to get something out of it, if it hadn’t been for him that lot might have sat down there forever...”
    “I guess.” dad showed he was resigned to the loss, and overruled.
    Mum left them not long after setting the story straight. In Daniel’s mind there was no question that if it had not been for her, he would have come out of this situation the poorer...
    Together they attacked the basement with a sense of excitement and bewilderment, the task before them as daunting in its size as it could be rewarding. From what they could make out, it looked like there was a whole house lot of furniture here, from silver cutlery to the grandfather clock that was now his. For ease of movement, dad decided that they should clean and move as much of this stuff as possible into the house proper, with the exclusion of one item, the clock. This task would require at least four burly men, to convey this prize up the narrow but sound stairs.
    Labouring long and hard, they spent their time wondering what might be uncovered next. For his part, Daniel let his father lay claim to the lion’s share of the goods. Daniel could see the value in most of the finds, but he didn’t desire to have them, the clock was all that really took his fancy. There were a pile of pictures in a far but thankfully dry corner, that dad went into raptures over them, quoting them to be original oils painted by someone now quite famous, and quite dead. At the rear of this stack was an enormous frame, wrapped in oil paper and silk, just by how it was packaged they knew it was special, without even uncovering it. Dad’s excitement had grown throughout the day, and now it knew no bounds, as he man handled the pictures from the basement. Having conveyed them all, except the largest, Bill turned to his son, gold fever in his eyes.
    “Best we get this safely into the house before unwrapping it, it’s bound to be a good one...” again dollars were all he could see.
Retreating, calling it quits for the time being, the lure of a great treasure faced them. The shifting of such a large and heavy frame was just at the limit of Daniel’s remaining strength, and after moving it, he had the strangest feeling of foreboding - his heart hurt at the stress of the moment.
    “Can I unwrap it?” Daniel asked, surprising even himself. Dad spared him a second glance, was about to rebuff him, then thought better of it - and mum wasn’t even around.
    The picture stood four feet tall and two feet wide, it promised to be a great work, even if it were only great in its size. With hands of infinite care, and a heart beating faster with every second, Daniel peeled away the paper then the silk cloth. First of all the frame came to light, gold and ornately carved, there was no question to the value of their find, this was it - the big one. Taking a deep breath, standing in front of it, Daniel pulled the cloth slowly from the frame, as if unveiling it for the first time ever... In the lounge the picture came to light, there was colour and life, it was an oil, a master piece - despite this he was stunned, because of the subject matter - it was Melissa!
    The picture was virtually life size, and the image it conveyed so real, Daniel felt as if at last he was really in the presence of the girl - that had been his invisible friend for so long. With the picture leaning up against a chair he slid to the floor, unable to take his eyes from her presence, her face, her form, to him she was the epitome of womanhood, not that at sixteen Daniel had any comparison to judge her by.
    “It’s a beauty,” dad broke the silence, “I think we’ve found what they were looking for...”
    “I’m keeping it... it’s her...” Daniel murmured, still stunned by Melissa’s unexpected visitation.
    “What, who are you talking about?” showing definite signs of fighting for this one.
    Of all the things Daniel wanted this was it, he had to be prepared to make a stand on this one, and he would! “It’s Melissa Fellowbottom, the oldest daughter, probably painted just before she was killed, you can have the clock, you can have the lot, I just want the picture...”
    “Why?” he started to look for an ulterior motive, “it’s just a picture of a girl, it’s bound to be worth a good sum, and sure the painter’s work is well recognised, but it’s just a picture.”
    “I don’t care what it’s worth,” Daniel spoke a deadly sin, “we cannot sell this picture, it would be like robbing her grave, I won’t allow it...” the last words coming out as if they were ten foot tall, and armed with the power of a small fascist ruler.
    Dad took a visible step back, confused at the brief flash of fear he had experienced, Daniel had really reached out and touched him - at once he could tell that this was something that meant a lot to him. “Very well, you can keep the picture, we’ll have to get it valued of course,” then taking a deep breath he pressed on, “and you can have the clock too,” moving across to put a hand on his son’s shoulder, “after all you are my son...” showing that blood was thicker than water, he didn’t like to show this, but today was an exception.
    They left Melissa’s portrait in the lounge, progressing on to lunch then back to their back breaking task, of unearthing other treasures to be found. There was plenty else to be had, worth more than enough to keep dad happy, but to Daniel these finds didn’t hold a candle to what he had already won. Before they quite knew it Jean was back with them, and eager to hear of their discoveries. Dad dutifully trotted out his trophies, including fine china plates and silverware, and while she was impressed, she could detect something in his manner than alerted her to expect more.
    “So Daniel, what did you find?”
    “Find?” he was taken by surprise.
    “Show her your picture.”
    “His picture?” her interest was sparked.
    “Yeah, he told me he was keeping it, and if we sold it we would be no better than grave robbers!” painting a dramatic picture of his own.
    “I must see this...” she breathed, appreciating her son’s values more than dad could. A dollar could only be appreciated so much - mainly at the bank or on the stock market.
    With pride, anticipation and excitement, Daniel took his mother into the lounge where the picture stood, like a frozen pantomime of what Melissa had been. Behind him Daniel heard a faint gasp, then silence, she was as Daniel had been - totally captured by what the picture was, a latter day Mona Lisa.
    “You were right...” she finally managed, “and if you hadn’t fought dad for it - I would have.”
    “I can’t see the reason for all the fuss.” He again broke the silence. “Boil my bones, it’s only a picture, granted a valuable one, but God it’s only a picture...” what more could he say.
    “How valuable?” asked, but she wasn’t really listening.
    “Hard to say, this guy’s works have been going pretty crazy lately. I saw on the news about some auction where a much smaller work went for ten, this is an earlier work, and in pristine condition. This must have been when he was sober at least some of the time, and when he was still dedicated to painting for art sake rather than cash...” he went on to give an art lesson, according to gospel of the speculator.
    Somewhere in the depths of this story, of rising values of recognised artists she repeated the value, “Ten thousand?”
    “Yeah,” brushing this amount aside, “some of the others we found might bring ten, twenty, but I’d say this might bring something in between, though it is very well preserved...”
    “It’s a work of art, a master piece, it’s value is irrelevant, it won’t be for sale.” she corrected, then as if coming upon a revelation. “When I walked into the room I thought she was actually here.”
    “Yeah well I can beat that, old lover boy Daniel here has the hots for her, even knows her name...”
    “Bill! That’s enough of that. Daniel just knows a good thing when he sees it, just like his mother.”
    “Yeah right, and he’s got expensive tastes like her as well.” then relenting slightly, “do you want to take it up to your room, it will be out of the way there and safe, we can hang it later.”
    “Yes, I think she would like that.” Daniel replied, lost in the picture’s illusion of life.
    Daniel’s parents just looked at each other and smiled, not taking him seriously, but Daniel was, he was deadly serious about her...
    That night Daniel went to bed physically and mentally exhausted, unsure at what the day had brought, other than what he already had begun to suspect - that he had a crush on Melissa! Lying in his bed, he listened to the light sound of rain, rain brought on by the heat of the day, not that he had gone outside - for what need was there for that, his world now within these walls. His heart faltered for a second at the thought that the holidays would soon be over, and he would have to return to the grind of school...
    Dismissing the inevitable as being a lifetime away, he tried to concentrate on the good yet to come. Having wrestled the clock and picture from dad, they were his now, and despite their value there was more, a whole lot more. A warm feeling came upon him as he thought on the subject, a familiar warm feeling, like the feeling one gets for a loved one - it was Melissa.
    “I found your picture today, down in the basement, see it’s here with me now...” Daniel pointed, it just pointed back. He blinked and the vision passed, whether it had animated or he’d imagined it was debatable, no matter what the effect was the same, she was with him.
    I know, and you fought for me - my valiant knight... she might have said, alas she could only favour him with a feeling, a sense of good will, but that was enough, enough for now.
    They talked like this, him in words, her in impressions and feelings. It was a slow method of communication, yet Daniel don’t think anything was lost from its awkwardness. They conversed long into the night, each discovering and telling a little to each other. Daniel learnt that while there were many things Melissa could not understand, she could appreciate friendship, and it had been this that had brought her back - somehow. What she was here for, the purpose of her return, how she could exist as this remained a puzzle, except somehow it was bound to Daniel. Try as they might there was no immediate answer, she too was confused at her presence, and that time had slipped away from her. For a sixteen year old, like himself, Daniel thought she was doing exceptionally well.
    Somewhere, in the midst of the night, Daniel slipped into a restful sleep, joining the ghosts, as one stood watch over him, a sentinel that never slept. ~ They let him sleep in, it was Saturday, and with a mere week to go Daniel was going to have to work doubly hard, to get the kitchen ship shape before school took over his life. With nothing new left in the basement to find, they catalogued what had been found, and its value. Dad had a valuer appraise the finds, the clock was valued pretty much as expected at twenty thousand, one of just a few of its type surviving the wars of man and time. The painting was another matter, it threw the valuer into a spin, he wanted to take it away right there and then. When he was finally fought to a halt on this, he was horrified that Daniel was to be its new owner.
    “This is a one of a kind,” he breathed, “I have seen a few other works of the period that are very good, but this, this is a work of genius, of inspiration, look at those brush strokes, the texture, the love that must have gone into this...” he couldn’t properly express his admiration for the work. “This artist has become rather popular in the last number of years, and a few speculators have got in and snapped up his work. Well I can tell you this, it’s an honest pleasure to see them pushing up the price of a painter’s work, that is worth something...”
    “So what are you trying to tell us?” dad cut to the chase, as was his normal manner.
    “This is worth a lot of money, at an auction who knows what it could go for - I hesitate to even mention a figure.”
    “Why?” dad pressed.
    “It could be way under the selling price.”
    “Well give us a guess anyway.”
    “It won’t be accurate, or binding.”
    “Nevertheless.”
    “Okay, based on market values and trends, what I’ve seen lately, the artist, the time period, the pure genius and condition of the work - the speculators, oh I’d say, one to five...”
    “You’re not talking thousands are you?” dad’s voice took on a tremor.
    “No I’m not.”
    “Hundreds of thousands...”
    “No,” he corrected, “millions!”
    Well that put a stop on the show, there and then, for it would seem that Daniel Boon, was the proud owner of a multimillion dollar painting...
    Well following this Bill insisted they move the picture back down into the lounge, where others might be able to view it, after all it was worth a lot of money. Over a cup of tea, dad and the valuer talked of this and that, but their eyes never left the painting.
    “So son,” the man spoke to him, “what do you intend to do with the money?”
    “The money?” Daniel couldn’t see the connection.
    “From when you sell it of course.” he was like Daniel’s father, principally a man of profit and loss, the artistry was just part of his cunning disguise.
    “I’m never going to sell it!” his resolve was firm.
    “That’s one hell of a painting,” the valuer mused, “when the rest of the world finds out about its existence, you’ll be besieged with offers, and paid a visit by a similar number of cat burglars I’d warrant.”
    “They won’t find out or get away with it,” Daniel told him, “it’s guarded by a ghost!”
    “Strange kid,” he laughed, “but don’t get me wrong, I like him, he’s like my own son, head full of silly ideas put into them by the TV. Don’t worry he’ll grow out of it. Well it’s been a genuine pleasure,” standing to shake hands with Jean, Bill and finally Daniel. “If you ever change your mind about the painting kid, give me a call,” slipping out a business card, “it’ll keep us in honey and caviar for the rest of their lives...” he meant himself of course.
    “Sure.” Daniel didn’t trust him.
    “Well, well, well.” dad scratched that patch on his chin, cooking up a story. “You can’t be serious about the painting son, we really could use that money...”
    “No!” Daniel went over to take hold of it.
    “Okay, okay, but he could very well be right, news is bound to get out and we won’t be able to insure it...”
    “I’m still keeping it!” standing his ground.
    “Give it a rest Bill.” Jean came over, taking hold of him.
    “Okay.” he conceded defeated for the moment. “Just give it a thought, but if you still want to keep it after you’ve thought about it, well that’s all I can ask. Right let’s have some tea, then let’s get stuck into cleaning this kitchen up...”
Bill never gave up trying to separate Daniel from the picture, but as stubborn as he was Daniel was his equal, well they were father and son after all. ~ The week vanished in a puff of dust, paint flakes, paint, new tiles, appliances and sweat. Dad sold off some of the stuff from the basement, despite their objections, saying that he had to pay for all this some how. As wife and son they humoured him, least he sell some of the stuff that they wanted to keep. They worked long and hard, on the last day of Daniel’s holiday Jean took a day off too, to ensure that they got the job finished, that Daniel got at least half a day’s holiday, and his reward. At the end of the day she held out a pile of fresh notes, five hundred dollars worth, this was an unexpected surprise - for both dad and him.
    Before Bill could object she had him cut off at the pass, “He’s worked really hard, you can’t dispute that, and he hasn’t sold any of the things that he’s taken from the basement - so really he hasn’t gained anything.”
    “What about the clock and picture?” dad disputed the claim.
    “They’re still here aren’t they, we can still touch them, it’s not as if he’s taken them from us, so in a way we’ve still got them.”
    “Hmmm, I guess you’re right, we still do have them...” and even Daniel could see his father trying to figure out how he might be persuaded to part with them later, maybe in a weak moment, or when he’d done something not easily got out of. So it was, that Daniel became determined not to provide his parents with the chance or opportunity to do so.
    Every night Daniel would be visited by Melissa, in varying degrees of contact. Some times he was just too tired to do much but bathe in her warmth, at other times she was happy to just be with him. Together they were happy, each aware of the limitations that bound them, yet satisfied with the arrangement, as if they had any choice. They were just two teenagers going through a difficult time in their lives, but lucky enough to have someone to share it with - even if they were separated by death.