10. Hudson
Chapter 10
Hudson
“ C an you tell me more about that, Hudson?”
I’ve been sitting in silence for several minutes across from the grief and trauma therapist I finally decided to call. I lost too many days to hopelessness and paranoia and he was able to fit me in quickly. Now I’m supposed to expound my feelings of being watched.
“It’s hard to describe without sounding like I’ve lost the plot.”
Dr. George nods, tapping his pen on his notebook. “This is a safe place. You can tell me how you’re feeling without concern.”
After another moment, I blow out a breath. “It started pretty suddenly. Right after I got back from the hospital. It got worse after the investigator stopped by my house and told me I had a ghost.”
“Uh-huh. Did he say why he thought that?”
“No, but he did know Chester’s name.”
“Which was reported in the media,” Dr. George points out. “You were put under a great deal of stress, which can lead to the mind playing all sorts of tricks on you.”
“I know, but why would this random stranger come and tell me I’m being haunted if it was just in my head?”
Dr. George doesn’t answer right away, but when he does, the response annoys me. “When we’re in a wounded or vulnerable state, we’re more susceptible to attracting people who want to take advantage of that.”
“I know that, Dr. George, but how could he target me? How could he know?”
“People like that can be very clever.”
I notice the hedging look on his face as he continues.
“Are you absolutely certain this person really visited you?”
I open my mouth to object to the question, then snap it shut. Did I hallucinate Aster’s presence? The call to his agency? All of it?
“If I did…” I pause as a shiver runs through me. “How would I have made up so many details?”
“The mind can do fascinating things to protect us. Perhaps your subconscious created Aster as a savior figure between you and Chester.”
“It seemed so real.”
“But you yourself said that there isn’t any damage to the house, and frankly it seems likely that any follow-up would come directly from law enforcement. Have you ever heard of a state agency doing investigations prior to this?”
“No.”
“I think where we’re at is recognizing that you’ve been under an extreme amount of mental and physical stress that has likely made you susceptible to delusions or hallucinations. It can all be explained if you stop and think about it. Of course your house feels unnerving at times given recent events. As far as Aster is concerned, just remember the mind is a powerful tool. If you can imagine your way into this, you can get yourself back out.”
“I understand.”
After leaving my appointment, I sit in my car for several minutes, staring straight ahead. A tangle of emotions and thoughts wars in my mind. I can get on board with imagining the strange events in the house, but how the fuck did I imagine a whole-ass person? Especially one who looks like Aster. I even called his job. All created in my head? If so, I’m losing my fucking mind.
My phone rings, startling me out of my stupor. My sister’s name appears on the screen, a welcome grounding moment.
“Hey, sis,” I answer.
“How are you doing?”
“Okay. Just left therapy, actually.”
“Oh, you started. Good. How’s that going?”
“It’s fine, I guess. He reminded me that the amount of trauma I’ve been through can play tricks on me.”
“True. Is something going on?”
“Kind of. Maybe not though.”
“Talk to me, Hud.”
“This guy showed up at my house telling me he was following up on what happened. While he was there he told me Chester was haunting the house.” I wait for some kind of reaction, but she’s silent so I continue. “But Dr. George said I was probably making him up.”
“Making up the man at your house?”
“Yeah. But I had a long conversation with him and I even called his job. I made all of that up?”
“You don’t believe in ghosts?”
“Sort of, I guess. Do you?”
“Heck yeah. I could write a book about my experiences. I could come down and do a reading on the house.”
“A what now?”
“A reading. We could suss out the energy in the house to see if there’s a spirit.”
“You can do that?”
“Anyone can if they try. Did this guy offer to get rid of your ghost?”
“No, but to be fair I didn’t give him much of a chance. I was skeptical of his motives.”
“That’s smart, but maybe he was on to something. I’d be happy to come down and check it out.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to disrupt your life more than you already have over this.”
“Hud, you’re my brother. It’s not a disruption. Wouldn’t you feel better if the news came from me?”
“I would.”
“I don’t want to negate what your therapist said, especially without visiting the house myself, but honestly, I’m not buying that you’re in a mental state where you could imagine an entire person and an interaction.”
Her words settle the brewing anxiety in my chest. “Thank you. Honestly, if I did make him up, I’d ask you to put me in a padded room for a while.”
“We’re not there yet. Let me get things figured out here then I’ll be on my way.”
“I appreciate it.”
“No worries.”
I end the call and start my car, more clearheaded now after talking to my sister. I think I needed to hear that I’m not going crazy.
Back at home, I enter a quiet house, gazing around as I stand in my foyer. It’s the same as it was when I left.
I remove my shoes then head over to sit on my couch. Aster’s card still sits on the coffee table, and I’m tempted to call the number listed as cell, but what would I say if he answered? ‘Hi, just want to make sure you’re a real person.’ That’s dumb.
Rising from the couch, I twist my neck back and forth before heading to the kitchen for water. I fill my glass and lean on the counter, staring out the window to the backyard.
The urge to poke at Chester’s potential ghost is strong, if only to prove that I’m not imagining it.
“If you can hear me, I’m gonna get rid of you, asshole.”
Nothing happens.
“Did you hear me, Chester? You can get fucked if you think I’m going to let you ruin any more of my life.”
I set my glass down, folding my arms over my chest.
“Don’t you have anything better to do now that you’re dead? Like sit on a fire poker stick?”
Suddenly the glass of water I was holding slides across the counter and shatters at my feet. I jump back as my heart races and a shiver runs through me.
“Asshole,” I mutter. “I’m not afraid of you anymore,” I lie. I’m really fucking terrified of him if he’s a ghost, but if all he can do is break dishes, that’s not so bad.
The side door flies open, slamming against the frame like it’s caught in the wind. Shit. I back out of the kitchen, but stop cold when it feels like I’ve hit a wall even though there’s nothing behind me. My breath turns frosty and the distinct foreboding feeling of being watched is back.
“Go away,” I murmur. “Just go.”
My feet tingle with numbness as if frozen to the spot, but then the coldness lifts and my body slumps as if I was wrapped tight in a blanket and released. Stumbling backward as my breath hitches, I swing my head around to look for evidence of someone being here, but the room is calm and still.
He’s gone.
At least for now.