Chapter 24
twenty-four
. . .
Two Years Ago
I sat in a coffee shop editing a video of an investigation at an abandoned mini golf course that I was going to post to YouTube.
I was adjusting the sound where my steps made too much noise in the crunchy leaves that littered the green turf.
The footage showed me taking a tour of the grounds, occasionally featuring my EMF (Electromagnetic Field) detector.
Ghosts were known to be able to manipulate and create electromagnetic fields, causing spikes where there shouldn’t be.
The lights blinked steadily as I walked around the alligator course, the plane course, the cave, and the hippo with its massive mouth, tongue stained brown by years in the outdoors.
In the video, I moved on, settling myself on the ground before a broken windmill missing multiple blades on its fan.
I chewed my nail as I remembered the sudden heavy weight on my chest during this moment, as though someone was pushing into me.
The ghost was using that to communicate how they died—a heart attack.
I replayed a scene, watching myself as I snatched my flashlight from the ground after conversing with the spirit.
Just as I started to stand, the fan of the rundown windmill fell off, crashing to the ground and shattering into large wooden shards.
I fell back on my ass in shock, letting out a surprised shriek. That was an awesome moment.
I paused the video, noticing something behind the windmill. When I zoomed in, I could see a shadow, arguably belonging to a spirit, but there was an uncanny effect created by the trees behind it, I guessed, because the shadow looked like it had spikes on the back of its head. Weird.
I wore noise-cancelling headphones, so it took a moment to realize someone was speaking to me.
The man was tall with tan skin and deep-brown eyes. He gazed down at me, cup of coffee in hand.
“Hi,” he said. “Sorry—I hate when people try to talk to me when I’m wearing headphones, but I couldn’t resist.”
I wanted to say, “Well, you should have tried harder,” but chose not to. “What’s up?” I asked, tone flat.
He smiled. “You probably don’t remember me. I used to work at Blanc & Hartman.”
I glanced at his coffee, and then my eyes lit up in recognition. “Coffee-one-cream!” I shouted. “Oh my god, of course, I remember you. The only non-psychopath at the firm.”
He chuckled. “Coffee-one-cream. Clever. My friends actually call me Hudson. Or Hudd. Sometimes Hudson Thomas, if they’re angry.”
My mouth quirked. “Sorry, I called everyone by their coffee orders in my head. I know your name is Hudson.”
He gestured to the seat across from me, and I nodded. “So, what have you been up to?” he asked.
I laughed awkwardly. “I work at a bookstore now. Much better environment for me, honestly. I, uh, well, I also am a paranormal investigator. Like, I post videos to YouTube and things. I have a decent amount of subscribers—enough to make a bit of money.”
He smiled easily. “Ah, a professional, then. That’s cool. You know, I believe in ghosts.”
“I always love to hear that. Less of me having to explain my reality.” I took a sip of my coffee. “So, what have you been up to? You said you left the law firm, too?”
“I did. Took some time off to travel, and yet…I keep ending up back here.”
“Are you from here?”
“No, no. I’m from the West Coast. But that feels like a lifetime ago now. Connecticut calls to me, what can I say?”
I snorted. “Well, that makes one of us. Never really felt a calling from this place, but there’s nowhere else I can imagine living. Unadventurous, maybe, or I just like to find comfort in a life constantly without it.” I shrugged. “Sorry, getting weirdly deep.”
He laughed and gave me a rather charming smile. “I don’t mind.”
“Oh, gosh, speaking of Blanc & Hartman, did you hear Blanc passed away? I came across the obit the other day. Aneurysm or something like that.”
He gave a stiff nod. “Look at a lot of obits in your line of work, I suppose?”
“A lot,” I confirm.
“So, your videos. You post them on YouTube. Do you post them anywhere else?”
I shook my head. “Where else would I post them?”
“You could post shorter clips to Facebook, or, uh, what’s that newer one? TikTok, with a note in the caption that the full video is on YouTube.”
My eyebrows jumped, mostly because at this point, TikTok wasn’t that new.
“Oh, duh. That’s a great idea. I post on Instagram every now and then, but I haven’t gained a lot of traction.
Static posts though, not reels. Thank you.
Yeah, I should totally do that and cross-post to Facebook.
And post on TikTok. I’d thought about that before but haven’t because of the length of my content, but shorter clips makes so much sense.
” I glanced at the clock in the corner of my computer screen.
“Oh, shit.” I closed my laptop and started to pack up.
“I am so sorry. I promised I’d meet up with my sister, and I’m already late.
” I stood and threw my laptop bag over my shoulder. “It was really great running into you.”
Hudson stood with me. “Yeah, you too.” His lips parted like he wanted to say something else. Maybe ask for my number, or maybe just plain ask me out, but perhaps that was wishful thinking. Instead, he said, “Good luck, Lacy. I’m rooting for you.”
I smiled in thanks and walked away.