The Bertie Mansion

VI

Jeremy was found on the couch with a blanket covering his whole body. Beneath the fabric he was rubbing his eyes as if that could get the image of A GHOST!!! out of his mind. Jade had entered the sitting room to start the fire when she saw him and dropped the large bag of marshmallows on the ground with a muted thump.

"Honey?" she said, trying to pull the blanket back to see her son's face. He held on tightly, keeping it over his head. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, he just saw a ghost," Rob replied in earnest from the corner. Jade turned to the voice and screamed, stepping slowly away in retreat.

"It's killed Jeremy! Oh, my poor son!" she wailed. "Save yourself, William!"

Rob sighed. "I didn't kill your son. My ghostly powers don't provide those means."

"Mom," Jeremy moaned from under the blanket. He was peeking out to assess the situation and saw Will hovering around in the doorway. "Stop hurting my ears."

His mother immediately stood straighter at the noise, rushing to pull the blanket off him. She started feeling and looking for injuries. "Where are you hurt? Are you bleeding? Should I call for the doctor? Oh, the misery! Maybe you're beyond help!"

"Calm down. I'm fine, the ghost's safe. I was just surprised and needed a second to process," he said, pushing the hands away from him and sitting up.

"More like half an hour," Rob input. He sat on the couch, causing it to dip on one end. "I really thought you were fine, since, y'know, you didn't run off screaming when you first saw me. I didn't mean to scare you."

"Whatever," Jeremy muttered. He laid his arms wide on the back of the couch, kicking the blanket off his legs and hitting the ghost with it. He pushed up his glasses from where they slid down his nose. "How did you even get down here? Aren't you tied to the attic?"

"That's only ghosts who were filled with vengeful energy when they died," Rob answered. "They have no choice but to haunt, and are associated with an object or place based on the reason for their death. It's a safety measure, so that they can't roam free."

Jade was on the edge of becoming actually hysterical. "There's a ghost in here! A ghost in the mansion! The mansion is haunted!"

Will was gentle as he pulled her out of the room, murmuring comforting words. He briefly came back for the marshmallows, still laying on the ground where they had fallen.

"I've got her, you take care of that," he said before leaving again.

"So I'm a 'that' now?" Rob asked, so offended it was clearly an act. "And to think I was considered a human only a century ago!"

Jeremy, returned to his true, brave form, had a thought. "If you aren't vengeful, does that mean there's more than one type of ghost?"

"I was doomed to become vengeful, but I came to terms with it. I had broken the law, and they weren't in the wrong for the time, despite the hurt," Rob explained. "I ended up here anyway, but friendlier after all the thinking I did. I can touch inanimate objects. Vengeful ghosts... they're much more powerful."

"What's your story?" Jeremy was curious. He had never seen a ghost before, and this one seemed to love talking. He couldn't wait to tell Caleb! Then he paused in his thoughts and remembered that was no longer possible, dampening his mood.

"It's quite simple. I was in the Great War. When my, er, secret was found out, everyone turned on me. I stuck around to haunt my friends after my execution, but they left before I could. I got trapped in the attic until you let me out." Rob shrugged and launched himself off the couch. He looked at the corner where he had been lurking earlier. "I'm stuck in this plane now, so your company is appreciated."

"There's no way to leave?" Jeremy asked him. "No super complicated ritual that can return you?"

"Nope."

"That sucks," he sympathized. He lived for the gruesome bits of the story so he changed his line of questioning. "How'd you die?"

"Hanged. You can still find the rope in the attic." Rob tilted his head and watched Jeremy closely for a few moments. It was a very piercing gaze. "I believe you found it."

Jeremy nodded and leaned forward. That made his glasses slide again and he ripped them off his face in frustration, the world blurring before his eyes. "You leaving it there for some reason?"

"No one came back to take it down. I don't want to touch it," Rob explained. Jeremy put his glasses back on and saw the ghost pressing his lips together in thought.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked. "You got a crush on me or something?"

Rob cleared his throat, though became less embarrassed and more amused as he spoke. "Of course not. But you are the only one who even vaguely resembles your grandfather, and that man was quite attractive, I'll give you that. You're a lot like him, actually, with that fake bravado. When he first saw me as a ghost he ran all the way to town. No one believed him."

"You knew my grandfather? Before he was a wrinkly, old, gray-haired man?" Jeremy inquired, noting the fondness in the ghost's voice.

"Oh, yeah. He was sure a sight for sore eyes as a youngster. Plenty of girls were after him, trailing him as he visited any public area, hanging on to his every word," Rob said, a gentle smile faint on his face. "Me included, although I could never let him know the truth. Many times I felt I owed it to him anyway, but see how that turned out."

Jeremy furrowed his eyebrows. "Were you jealous? Him getting all that attention?"

"No, I got a fair amount myself, considering everything. What hurt the most was not being able to return his affection in the way I wanted to. I couldn't for both of our sakes." Rob frowned, clearly remembering his past pain.

"So my grandfather was also, uh," Jeremy paused for a moment. It was weird to ask something this personal about a dead relative. "Like us? Like, not, um, 'normal'? He liked you back but you wouldn't do anything with it at that time?"

"Oh no, far from it. Our whole relationship was complicated. He didn't know everything until the very end, and then he turned on me without batting an eye." Rob flopped on the couch again and rested his head in his hands.

Jeremy tried to comfort him by placing a hand on his leg, but it never made contact. He watched his hand sitting on the cushion, in the middle of a transparent limb, weirded out.

"What the hell?" he asked, meaning: Why can I see my hand? And why are you cold and wet?

"Must be what I'm made of, some sort of supernatural goop. I can't explain it either." Rob shrugged. "Thanks for trying."

It was Jeremy's turn to stand. "There must be a way to get you out of here."

"There's not. Believe me, I've tried. I spent decades trapped in the attic, alone. I had plenty of time to experiment." Rob stood as well, attempting to ruffle the human's hair, hiding a dejected expression. His touch was cool, that same breezy feeling that signaled his presence but did nothing more.