Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Slate stood where Liv told him—center of the Commons, plan view of everyone who wanted to see, fifteen feet from the demonstration table.
The same table with pumpkins and gourds Gary had caused to levitate the day before.
He thought it was tempting fate, as if they were daring Gary to return for an encore performance.
Meredith, however, said it would add to the “planned all along” narrative they were selling.
Meredith had taken Dash’s idea and turned it into an actionable plan, and Liv brought the plan to life.
It was a tiny bit deflating when they chose Millicent and his mother as their primary assistants.
When the four of them put the entire scheme together before dinner, his butt-hurt feelings had turned into respect.
The temperature dropped around Slate and a spirit materialized. “Gary’s not here, man,” Cain said. “Word is he went back to Woodstock to look for some old friends.”
One less thing to go wrong. They didn’t need Gary crashing the demonstration with ideas about how to make it better. “How long will he be gone?”
“Hard to say. Could be an hour, could be tomorrow.” Cain shrugged. “Time’s weird for us, you know?”
Liv suddenly appeared at his side. “Nervous?”
People filled the Commons, but they didn’t see the dead walking among them.
Most ghosts were curious, but respectful.
A few were oblivious but still harmless.
“More like irritated. I was really looking forward to a calm Halloween. One where Dash and I didn’t need to worry about the veil.
Where we could hang out with you, like you and I did as kids.
He’s ruining that, and it makes me mad.”
“You have a right to be angry,” she said, rubbing his arm. “After all you’ve done, you’ve earned a fun Halloween. Just don’t let that irritation cloud your judgment.”
The warning was spot-on. With every new episode, Slate struggled to control his emotions and stay focused. “I’m working on it.”
Meredith appeared on the demonstration platform—a slightly raised section of the Commons that usually hosted the farmers’ market. She wore a wireless microphone, and she commanded the space like she did this sort of thing every day.
“Thank you all for coming out this afternoon!” The crowd noise settled.
“As many of you saw yesterday, there were some odd things happening here on the Commons. What you witnessed was my brother, Dash Reeves, and his boyfriend, Slate Blackwood, testing some new technology for this year’s haunted house exhibit.
Unfortunately, my brother let his inner geek take over, and he demonstrated the equipment a day early. ”
The last bit was an ad lib, probably because Meredith knew her brother would make her take that part out.
It might be off-script, but it was effective.
People all over town had heard Dash talk about new technology with a passion that bordered on reverence.
Many in the crowd nodded or smiled at the reference.
“Blackwood Manor is grateful for the enthusiastic response—and the free publicity.” That drew laughs.
“Today, however, we’re going to give you an official demonstration, complete with as much of an explanation as Slate can provide.
He asked me to remind everyone, if this goes wrong, it was all Dash’s idea. ”
Slate didn’t try to hide his smile. Meredith was good.
Hopefully, good enough to sell this to the town.
Somewhere in the crowd, his parents and Dash’s grandparents were talking a bit too loudly.
People ‘overheard’ them as they created a real-time narrative, making people remember things they’d never actually been told.
It was clever and brilliant.
“Hello, everyone,” Slate said. “Are you as excited as I am for this year’s haunted house?”
An enthusiastic affirmative response rippled through the crowd. Most of the people in town visited every year, and as part of the tradition, they critiqued each year against prior ones.
“A year ago, I met someone who has changed my life. Many of you know Dash, and while he can be a bit salty first thing in the morning before coffee, he’s made me happier than I’ve ever been. Why am I telling you things you already know? Because he’s the brains behind this year’s new feature.”
Slate checked to see that Thomas, Oliver, and Cain were in position. Meredith had stationed herself between Slate and his friends, so when he nodded, it would appear he’d signaled her and not them.
The pumpkin was the first to rise slowly off the table. Thomas held it in both hands and stopped when it was chest high.
“I don’t profess to understand everything, but my technogeek boyfriend says it has to do with electromagnetic suspension with ferrofluid coating.
” Several people nodded as the completely made-up technobabble Dash invented made perfect sense.
“In simpler terms, we cover objects in a magnetic liquid coating that responds to electromagnetic fields.”
Oliver selected a pair of gourds, and as he lifted them into the air, applause swept around the area. Next, a large, Halloween-themed piece of decorative pottery—something Liv purchased the day before—floated up. Cain rotated the piece, showing off scenes from Oriskany Falls painted around the pot.
Slate motioned with his hand, and his friends lowered the items. People clapped and some shouted questions.
“Will this be part of the haunted house?” Mr. Horvon asked.
They hadn’t prepped him on a possible Q he wasn’t sure he had the stomach to do what they suggested.
“You’re talking about banishment,” Cain said. “That’s what you’re really planning, isn’t it?”
“No,” Slate said immediately. “I’m hoping that he’ll listen. I don’t want to banish Gary, but—”
“But what?” Cain challenged. “He has to do exactly what you want or else?”
“He has to stop putting everything we worked for at risk.” Dash stared at Cain as if daring him to object.
“This isn’t what anyone wants,” Liv said. Her voice was gentle but firm. “But one ghost shouldn’t get to ruin something for countless others. The portal helps spirits cross over. Gary’s party could destroy that.”
“She’s right,” Thomas said quietly. Oliver looked at him, but Thomas didn’t back down. “I don’t like it either. But is one party worth more than the portal?”
Cain turned away, facing the fireplace.
“There has to be another way,” Oliver said.
“If you have a suggestion, we’re all eager to hear it,” Marjorie said.
An angry silence settled over the room. No one was happy. It was just different levels of dislike.
“I think you’re approaching this the wrong way,” Meredith said, sitting at the edge of her cushion. All eyes, living and dead, turned toward her. “We can get him to agree, but it’s all how you sell it.”