The Bear House

Act 1: Chapter 6: The Mystery of the Boy

Act 1: Chapter 6: The Mystery of the Boy

That night...

Noah never knew someone would look for his young master. He thought he's careful, he thought he's thorough. The boy has been found and his sheets were tussled; someone was worried for this boy, and that, he never knew.

He tried to calm down but his face shakes with anger, his hands grip tight. The objects inside the house vibrate with the bubbling influence of his emotional strife. Where is the young master? How is he still alive? He was turning blue when he left him, and should be grey and drained of life.

Where is the young master?

On the clearing, a car loudly halts, Noah Goldie stopped his angry trance, and to the balcony he investigated. A young man of early twenties came out from the driver's seat, then closed the door with a bang, quite irritated. The young man wears a blue plaid, a black slack, a modern hairdo. From the pictures, he knew this was Arthur Goldie, his great grandnephew.

Arthur would oversee the demolition of this house, no doubt. The question lies, who leaves with something without.

*

Small time media gathers around the hospitals, and while Mr. Meyers gleefully answers the uninterested press, Ms. Keller shooed them away, telling them to respect his son's privacy. Privately, Ms. Keller gave Mr. Meyers a hefty amount of cash to return his ass to America, but Mr. Meyers disagreed. It seems he wanted the attention and all the interviews this could get.

Colin was dying of lack of oxygen, dehydration, and hypothermia. Whoever left him there wanted him dead. The police decided to guard the parameter of his room while Powley and Jacques talk to him. Powley also caught Jacques' irrational fear of police officers, and so to stay safe, he held Jacques close to his side.

"How are you, mate?" Jacques started.

"Quite distraught." Colin smiled, but his eyebrows show worry for being unfamiliar of the situation.

"Who brought you there?"

"Um, no one. I got there on my own. Next thing I know, I was thinking it was my home."

Powley was sitting on the visitor's bench, eating the apples meant for the patient. He was unbothered until he heard the peculiar statement. He stood up to finally enter the conversation. "Why would you think that? And I thought you were American?"

"I am?"

"Nice Queen's English accent, though."

Jacques sighed, shaking his head towards the two. "Please, compliments later. Colin, mate, why do you think that it was your home?"

"It was pretty homey." Powley interjected, biting into an apple.

"Shut up, Powley." Jacques scolded, then faced Colin, "Mate?"

Colin held a moment looking at his own hands. He fiddled them, playing with the blanket right under them. "I... I thought I was someone else."

"Woah! Mate, mate, I have a theory!" Powley exclaimed.

"If this is nonsense, ye dip...."

"It is not, I assure. You were probably infusing with Georgie Christtensen-Adger."

"Who?" Colin inquired.

Jacques patted his mate's shoulders. "Never give him mind, Colin. There was just... this old legend in West Sussex, and for being new, you never knew that you shan't enter that house. It's called the Bear House, and a poor boy our age died of bear attack in there, back in the 30s or something."

"That's horrible."

"Indeed."

"So I've been possessed by this boy? I never noticed. I just thought I've been like that since the beginning."

Powley then called their attention. "Because it's not possession, boy. It's called infusion. Your spirit is being infused with another, your memories, thoughts, and manners will blur together, and when you finally die, it will just be this one pure spirit."

Colin stares at him in fascination. "That's a lot of... nonsense."

"It's fine, Colin. You can say bullshit." Jacques deadpanned.

"I cannot really. Swear words are inelegant."

"You called me a 'Fucking Twat' few months ago!"

The boy gasped. "How distasteful of me!"

Jacques paused at that, his upper body retreated in bewilderment. "Golly, you really are not fully Colin anymore."

"See? Spirit infusion!" Powley insisted in delight.

"Suggestion." Said a calm voice that abruptly entered the private room. The owner of the voice is a tall man in early 20s, maybe Powley's age, in blue plaid and black slacks. His hands are covered in leather biker's gloves, and his smile is gentle, yet only a mask for professionalism. "It's not infusion, whatever that is, gentlemen. It's suggestion. Mr. Colin has been repeatedly drugged and the suspect suggested a lot of mental ques into Master Colin's head. It's evident in the lab reports from the tea cup beside the night stand. His MRI also shows huge changes, activation in certain areas."

The three only stared at the man, a tall and young gentleman-looking stranger who suddenly made Jacques and Powley insecure of their own masculine positions. (Well, Powley is more impressed than insecure. He wonders where he can get those gloves.)

"Who are you?" Colin finally asked.

The man approached him, removed his right glove, and reached it in front of Colin. "I'm Arthur Goldie. Great grandnephew of Noah Goldie. I'm here to give compensation for everything you've been though in our estate. I represent the Christtensens of Denmark."

Colin took the hand for a quick shake. He dropped them immediately, for they were cold.

"Woah." Jacques and Powley only said, impressed. The more they get exposed to his presence, the more they think he's a different higher league. 

Arthur was quick to return his glove to his right hand, but it never escaped Powley's observant stare. He held Jacques' upper arm to lead them both outside, telling him to leave the two alone for legal talks. Oh, but they did not leave the door upon stepping out. Powley thought it was completely proper to listen to people talking. Jacques would have argued, but his curiosity got the better of him.

When it's only the two of them inside, Arthur walked closer to Colin's side. "I'm also here to make sure you go back to your health, Master Colin."

"W...why are you calling me Master Colin?"

"Apologies. I'm a trained butler since young, so it's just my nature to be polite. If you want me stop, just say so."

Colin smiled back, blushing a bit. It's his first time seeing a man so polite and upright. He's like a bred gentleman from a royal family. Colin met his eyes. "Just call me Colin, please."

"Surely, Colin."

"You also use the older English words, don't you?" Colin chuckled.

"Apologies again. I'm Danish and I learnt English technically."

"I've always wanted to learn Danish."

"I can teach you." Arthur closed the distance by sitting beside Colin's bed, then leaning unto his direction. Colin tried to lean away, being suddenly uncomfortable. "I will be staying with you for a long time, anyway."

[End of Act 1]