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Maybe it’s not a fan-girly crush anymore. Maybe I really do enjoy being with the adult and current persona of Ethan Greene.
I get into his car – a black Mercedes S-class with tinted windows.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hi.”
“So how was your visit? Everything clear?”
I’m tempted to tell him the truth, but I want a reason to linger around him a while longer. “I’m not totally in the clear yet. There’s still some residual giddiness and headaches I have to be aware of. Once I’m clear, I can start preparing to get back to civilization.”
“You can stay as long as you like, until you get better,” he offers, as I knew he would. And immediately, he looks uncomfortable, as if he has said something he shouldn’t have.
“I don’t want to impose.”
“You’re not imposing.” He does not glance at me. He seems torn between good manners and asking me to do what he really wants me to do – leave.
“Ethan,” I say hesitantly, “are you all right?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be? Did someone say . . . something?”
“No. I just wondered.”
“Ah well.” He appears relieved.
“Ethan.” Out of impulse, I lay my hand on his arm.
He looks down at it, and then at me. There’s a stricken look in his eyes that I don’t expect to see. I withdraw my hand immediately. I didn’t mean any harm by it.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“It’s all right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to react that way.” The Adam’s apple on his throat moves like running mice. He is extremely discomfited, and I don’t know whether to laugh or be alarmed. “It’s just that I . . . I’m not used to having company. I’ve been living mostly alone for a long time. With Jeffrey, I mean.”
“I understand.”
I wonder if I should press my advantage and ask: Why do you choose to be alone? But I decide that we both have had enough for the day, and give him a break from my mini-interrogation.
Does Ethan Greene scare me?
I don’t know. Certainly I am not afraid of him as he is. This wonderfully handsome, soft-spoken man in the driver’s seat does not give off a single sinister vibe that should make me pause. It is merely the rumors that surround him – the question marks that this community seems to have dangling above his head.
The suppositions. The assumptions.
Perhaps I am na?ve. Perhaps I should be very afraid.
But I have an assignment to complete, and I’m determined to see it through till the very end. Yeah, that’s my official line – even to myself.
The truth is . . . I just want to hang around Ethan Greene for a little longer. OK, for a lot longer. For as long as he lets me.
Or for as long until I discover the truth.
9
I spend the next two days with Ethan hiking around Pine’s Lookout. Ethan is my personal guardian – looking out for the telltale signs of dizziness and nausea that I am expected to exhibit at any time, as though I’m in my first trimester of pregnancy. The hill is much larger than I thought. It’s amazing how much of it he owns. Although land is probably cheap here, its size is still considerable.
“You get a lot of trespassers?” I ask.
“Sometimes. Especially during Halloween,” he says. “A lot of people think the house is haunted.”
“Is it?”
I have never felt any vibes, but then, I never did have a supernatural radar.
“It does have a reputation. I bought it for cheap because the previous owner killed himself in it.”
This stuns me.
“Oh,” I exclaim, putting a hand on my mouth. “Oh, I didn’t know.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” His mud green eyes register concern.
We are both perched upon a cliff that looks down upon the valley from another angle. It’s a beautiful afternoon, with birds flitting through the canopy of trees and the sun beating down on our heads. The leaves are beginning to turn gold and red, and the scenery is so blissful that I simply cannot imagine anything haunting us.
I say, “No . . . I’m not scared. I’m just surprised.”
I am more than surprised. I’m stricken.
I think back to the entry in Ethan’s diary, the one that I haven’t had the investigative tenacity to revisit since – mostly because he’s been around so much, and I don’t want to be kicked out of the house for doing something as mundane as snooping around my host’s study.
I can’t contain him anymore. All I know is that he is becoming more powerful. Suddenly, in light of Ethan’s revelation, that phrase takes on a whole different connotation.
