Message-ID: <35130asstr$1013116204@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: From: "empath :{)" X-Original-Message-ID: X-OriginalArrivalTime: 07 Feb 2002 12:39:02.0242 (UTC) FILETIME=[6BF7E420:01C1AFD4] X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Thu, 07 Feb 2002 09:09:01 -0330 Subject: {ASSM} {ASSD} "A Ghost's Story" [Empath] (MF rom magic) [2/5] Date: Thu, 7 Feb 2002 16:10:04 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, hecate Warnings: Splitting your attention between driving and ANYTHING else (especially -AHEM- :) is dangerous. Smoking rots your lungs and makes you stink - and cannabis is no better than tobacco in this respect, Captain Herbal-Life. Alcohol lets your inner asshole out. And reading these sorts of stories too much makes you go blind. {What? OH, *that* type of warning - right.} Don't read/download this if you're not able to vote; it's not worth the trouble you could get into. And attempting to use the stories I post here to make money of your own is a) illegal, and b) ludicrous - if I thought I could get anything for this stuff, do you think I'd post it here for FREE?:) {Happy now? Good.} _________________________________________________________________ Join the world's largest e-mail service with MSN Hotmail. http://www.hotmail.com <1st attachment, "ghost2.txt" begin> {ASSD} "A Ghost's Story" [Empath] (MF rom magic) [2/5] ============= "A Ghost's Story" Copyright 2001...er 200*2* (dang changeover:) by empath Chapter 2 ========= Cable! If I'd known what Sue was talking about when she told David she'd be around all day having it installed, I would have barricaded the house! My tenant got up bright and early; well rested despite - or perhaps because of - her activities the night before. I was around to see her get up. I don't sleep per se anymore; I nap from time to time, but no big chunk of hours asleep. Maybe it's because sleep is the subconscious' chance to 'get out', and all I *am* is my subconscious now? Whatever. She dusted off the sitting room again, and moved one of my chairs out of the room, sliding in a heavy cardboard box in its place. She then set about pulling lengths of wood from it and assembling a piece of furniture, to my amazement. With just a hammer, screwdriver, and some kind of bent length of metal Sue accomplished in an hour what took - in my day - about a week's work of several craftsmen. When she was done, there was a sort of low bookshelf standing where the chair had. She brought in a television and set that in the largest 'shelf.' This I understood - people had been bringing picture boxes into my home for the past fifty years. Interesting things, but hardly worth the devotion people gave them - all this effort for a fuzzy, live-action version of a newspaper. I've since discovered that this was because people only ever used antennas on their TVs before Sue; after the fright I gave the plumbers, the owners of the house correctly deduced that 'the ghost' didn't want workmen mucking about, and didn't allow installation of new phone, cable, etc. Sue had managed to change their minds. Three men in coveralls showed up soon after Sue had set up several other pieces of black electronic equipment in the 'Entertainment Centre' (so the box said). They nodded respectfully to Sue and gave her a yellow carbon paper. One came inside, dutifully wiping his feet on the doormat, and looking around nervously. They must have heard about me - I was pleased that my influence had spread beyond these walls. Sue and the one workman stood in the foyer looking up. "Hello? Mr. or Mrs. Ghost?" Sue called out. "Mrs.? You don't know," the tech asked. "Know what? Mrs. Baker never knew anything more about the ghost other than that it IS." "Oh, my dad always used to say it was Mr. Fletcher - the guy who built this place; he killed himself when his wife left him, and never left the house." Technically that wasn't right - I know I didn't commit suicide - I had vague recollections of an accident. And my...wife left after my funeral. But at least Sue knew my name. Her hand was over her mouth. "Ohhhh. Mr. Fletcher! I'm so sorry - I didn't know. Now I know why you love this house so much, and why the renters say you don't like people making changes. "Well, I promised I'd do all I could to keep it the way I've found it, and I don't want you to think I'm breaking that promise now." I stopped nudging a flowerpot on the balcony - it would land on the first floor opposite the two people, but I was angry at the intrusion. Sue's words made me hesitate and think about her actions up to this point. "I really want to get the cable service installed in the house; it won't rip anything out, like replacing the plumbing did - just put a few more wires in the walls. Right, sir?" "Oh, yeah," he was nervous trying to talk to someone he couldn't see. "All we'll do is set up a junction box on the outside wall, and then install two outlets; one upstairs in a bedroom, the other in that sitting room there. There won't be much damage at all; just one small hole under the eaves to have the cable come in, then the two actual outlets - they'll look just like a cover plate like the switch just there." He gestured to the light switch on the wall by the door. Impishly I flicked it on. "JEEZ! Yeah, like that." The workman sighed and recovered from the surprise. Sue giggled. "So what do you say, Mr. Fletcher? Will you let me do this? I am asking nicely beforehand, taking you into consideration." I wasn't quite convinced, and snatched the paper from Sue's hands. Setting it on a side table, I looked over the gibberish and acronyms for something that made sense. Sue tried to take the paper back, but I held it in place, tiring myself considerably. "Oh - sorry, didn't realise you were reading it." "Uh, I can explain it if you want, sir," the tech said, stepping up - he passed right through me. I shrugged - the man meant well, apparently. "See? This is the cable company here. And the address of this house here - this is the house's id code," he pointed to a long incomprehensible number. "This is Ms. Hoover's account number," another 'population-of-the-world' sized number, "but the bottom part here is what you want to look at. This line is the install of the cable lines up to your house and putting the box on the outside wall; that's the company's equipment and they'll swallow the cost of that. "This line talks about the actual cable TV service install - we set up that box to send the appropriate channels for Ms. Hoover. Then the cost of the second hook-up in the upstairs bedroom is this line. And finally she pays for the first month of service in advance." The tech pointed to each line on the lower table. My mind raced forward and added up the total before he reached that bottom line on the sheet. "And that's the amount Ms. Hoover has paid us to do all this." HOLY SHIT - more than a hundred dollars! That was a king's ransom! [No wait - relax,] I told myself, [inflation - it's been eighty years since you've had to worry about money, Bradley. Sue paid four hundred dollars for two month's rent for this big place of mine, and said that was a steal.] Even so, she had said she didn't have a lot of money, and this had to be a substantial cost to her. The owners of my house probably should have taken the install costs and then just increased her rent by the amount of the cable service, but they didn't want to be 'responsible' for any reprisals of mine. "Mr. Fletcher? I really need this cable - I've GOT to have my Food Network!" Sue pleaded, with a smile on her face. The tech chuckled, but the joke was lost on me. "I promise I'm doing all I can to minimise the effect on your wonderful house." "She is, sir," the tech joined in. "That install cost is higher than normal - we could just drill a couple of holes in the walls for each outlet - the outer wall gets putty to seal them up." I winced at the thought of that. "But she's getting us to string the cable inside the wall properly - even though the cable company is asking more to have that done." Now I looked at Sue in admiration - as limited her funds were, she was willing to inconvenience herself for my benefit. I felt like I would cry - but for the lack of tear ducts. This woman was jerking more emotion from me in less than a week than most tenants had in a month. I cast around, looking for something appropriate. I found it - a porcelain vase sitting on top of a wardrobe on the far side of the foyer. I lifted easily - smiling at the emotion coursing through my...ectoplasm, I guess - and carried it over to her. The two people watched the objet d'art slowly levitate their way and press itself into Sue's hands. She looked at it in awe then lifted her face to look vaguely in my direction. "No - this is much too valuable-" I pressed on the vase again to emphasise my decision; this would pay for her 'cable bill' and next month's rent, probably. Now she started to tear up, saying simply "Thank you." "I don't get it." Ah, rude mechanicals. Sue turned to the tech with a smile on her face. "He's saying he consents to this; he wants me to take this thing of his to pay for it - it's part of HIS house, and he's giving it up." The man looked at the vase, then up into the room (why does everyone think I float around near the ceiling?) "I guess my dad was wrong, Mr. Fletcher - you're an okay guy, after all. WHOA!" He started as his gaze dropped past me - the man was looking right in my direction. "What?" "LOOK - right THERE!" Sue followed his finger and gasped, her eyes glinting with wonder. I looked down on myself, and noticed the dust I had kicked up in moving the vase was settling on my body - because I was so...vital I was holding it up and getting my 'ghostly aura.' Sue handed the vase to the tech and stepped up to me. "Thank you for accepting me, Mr. Fletcher." And she reached up on tip- toes and kissed me on the cheek. Actually she ended up putting her nose where my teeth would have been, but it wouldn't be easy kissing a cloud of dust accurately, and the gesture was touching. * * * The install took less time than I'd thought; these guys were pretty experienced at what they did. The damage was as small as they predicted, and I didn't feel ANY lessening of my 'self' when they were done. Like Sue said, they were INSTALLING something, not taking anything of mine away. Soon Sue was sitting on 'her' couch with a longish plastic box the size and shape of a necklace case. It was covered with rubber knobs, and when she pressed a big one, the TV came on. I started, bumping the coffee table. "Oh! Sorry; never seen a remote control before?" Sue frowned in thought for a moment. "Uh, what do I call you? Mr. Flectcher? Bradley? Brad? Mr. Ghost?" I thought about this - everyone had called me 'Bradley' in my life, but the shorter name sounded better for some reason. 'Brad' it was...now how would I tell her? I was often not 'strong' enough to carry or hold anything for any length of time - a quick shove would use up my 'vitality' - so writing was out of the question. I had the sudden inspiration to run a finger through a dusty surface, but Sue had been quite diligent in her cleaning. Then I saw a mirror. I hurried over to it and tapped at it, making a noise and causing the mirror to sway a little. "What? What about the mirror...Oh! Be right there!" She rushed over, knelt on the couch that I was standing through, and breathed heavily on the glass, leaving a mist. I smiled at her perceptiveness and proceeded to quickly write: BRAD IS FINE, SUE. She gasped, then smiled. "Thank you, Brad. Pleased to finally make your acquaintance." I chuckled to myself. Sue looked herself in the mirror, then chewed her lip a little. "One more question," and she hesitated. After a deep breath to strengthen her resolve, she exhaled on the mirror again and asked with the dregs of her breath: "Was that you last night?" I hesitated myself. [Should I tell her? She could always think it was a pleasant dream - maybe that'd be better?] In the end, I was honest, and wrote: YES Sue was silent for a fair bit; the only sound being the noise of the TV. Finally, she smiled and said "Thank you, Brad. It's like I said last night - I was lonely, and missed David a lot...and well-" There was just enough room on the 'fog' for me to write: I UNDRSTND "It was just a one-time thing; I don't want you to think..." Her voice faded and when I tapped, she wiped the mirror and breathed again. IT'S OK - U NEEDED ME THEN "Ohhhh, you're such a good friend, Brad. Thank you for understanding. And thank you for helping me then." UR WELCOM She smiled at the mirror, then turned around and flopped down. "Anyways! Back to the TV; you've probably seen them before, but we now have over a hundred channels to choose from with this cable hook-up." A HUNDRED? I'd only ever seen three or four. What on earth could they possibly show that would fill up a hundred channels? Sue showed me. She explained the basic controls on the remote - on/off, volume and channel up/down, and the number keys to enter a channel. After a little practice, I found I could use the remote just fine...as long as it was facing the TV; the buttons were easier to push than a light switch, though crowded together and needing more precision. We 'surfed' through everything once - even the scrambled 'pay- per-view' channels, and settled on her favourites, and ones she thought I would like. Sue was a good judge; she even wrote up a chart of 'my channels' and left it by the remote for my reference. She set the rule that I could watch whatever I wanted when she was off to work or asleep. When she was home and awake, I had to turn over the remote to her, the paying customer. It was fine with me; I even figured out how to use the 'closed-caption' and 'mute' buttons before she went to bed (hey, I WAS an architect, after all!) so she was relieved that she wouldn't be woken up by a war movie on the History Channel late at night. I tapped the mirror one last time when she started yawning. TANK U 4 THIS UR A GOOD FRIEND SUE NOW GET TO BED SLEEPYHED She smiled and gave the bottom of the mirror a kiss, then made her way upstairs to clean up and change for bed. I settled in front of the TV and prepared to become one of these 'couch potatoes' that Sue had mentioned. * * * She was right - the educational channels were the most useful to me; local tv and cable news was too far ahead of my experience for the time being; I had eight decades of history to catch up on. The channel I LIKED the most was Turner Classic Movies - it showed all the 'old' films that I'd seen when I was younger...er, ALIVE. I remembered taking...my wife to some, often as an apology for neglecting her. Before I knew it, it was morning, and Sue came downstairs with a cheery "Good morning, layabout!" I toggled channels to let her know I heard her. "Okay, I'm gonna get a little breakfast and then get off to work; you have fun with your new toy and try not to rot your brain on," she looked closely at the screen, "a documentary on the Berlin airlift." Her tone seemed somewhat defeated. "Fine! Be responsible - I half expected you to be watching trashy infomercials that try to sell junk products!" I chuckled at that, and had a sudden brainstorm - I flipped to Comedy Central, and lucked out; a studio audience was laughing at something the actors had done. Sue fell on her ass when she realised what I was trying to say. She laughed so much her cheeks were wet with tears. "Oh. Oh, Brad - thank you...hahaha - thanks for that! Anyways, I gotta get going or I'll be late for work." She walked off to the kitchen, and I settled back to the documentary I was watching. * * * When she got home, I was watching Tony Curtis and Jack Lemmon in "Some Like It Hot" - I'd missed out on so many good movies, even ones that would be considered 'oldies' today. Sue poked her head in and checked the TV. "Ah, that's better - all work and no play makes Brad a dull boy." She leaned on the back of the couch facing in from the doorway and said "I like that one; I'm gonna go clean up and get changed. Be right back." I toggled channels in agreement. When she came back, she plopped down on the couch a little ways from the remote, brushing her hair out. "Ahhh, much better. How was your day- oh, better wait until after the movie." I grinned unseen and started to work on the remote: I opened up the 'menu options' and quickly flipped to 'channel title'. This was a neat little feature of Sue's TV that the owner could label individual channels - rather than just seeing "48," they could have "48: COURT TV" at the top of their screen. I used the blank blue screen to slowly type out: ITS OK SEEN IT EARLIR Sue dropped her brush. "Oh. My. God. Brad! How did you do that?" I hit 'clear' and then used the number keys to put up: HAD A FUN DAY waited a few seconds then cleared and typed: LEARNED TO TALK Sue was laughing in delight. "Oh, Brad! This is WONDERFUL! At least I won't get short of breath." NOT MANY MIRRORS HERE "But how did you figure it out - *I* didn't know it could do this!" GOT CURIOUS AND HEY I WAS AN ARCHITE CT OOPS HAHAHA Sue laughed at my limitations. "Oh. This'll help so much - I'm so happy for you!" ME 2 I LIKE THIS "Huh - who'd have thought it. The TV remote is the 21st century Ouija board - ohmygod; a Ouija board! I think I have one!" NNONNONONO DONT BOTHER HIPPIES TRIED THAT TOO SLOW AND MORE TIRING THIS IS BETTER "Oh, okay. I'm glad we can talk now." YEAH I LIKED TALKIN BACK IN THA DAY "'Tha day'? Weren't you WHITE, Brad?" SO I WATCH MTV SUE ME "Oh my god, I'm living with the ghost of a 1920's architect who thinks he's the next hip-hop sensation!" NEWAY HOW WAS YOUR DAY "Me? Oh, okay - same old, same old." SUE WHAT DO YOU DO "Do? Oh, my job - I'm a hospital cook. Actually my title is 'Kitchen Manager' and I don't cook much anymore." She looked a little disappointed at that. U LIKE TO COOK I TAKE IT "Oh, yeah. Always had a knack for it, and it's a fun hobby, even if it has drawbacks." She held her tummy and jostled it. U LOOK OK NOT FAT AT ALL "That's sweet of you to say, especially since I saw what your wife looked like." THAT WAS 20S FLAPPER FA SHION "And the current fashion is an athletic body that has more muscle than fat - neither Mrs. Fletcher nor I would fit in." BIG DEAL FASHIONS FICKL U R HAPPIER THAN THESE SO CALLED IDEAL PEOPLE THEY SEEM TO SPEND ALL THEIR TIME TRYING TO LOOK GOOD NO TIME LEFT TO FEEL GUD Sue was silent then looked at the remote with glistening eyes. "Thank you - that's very kind. But you got all that from watching TV for one day?" YEP THESE ADS ARE QUITE OBVIOUS OF WHAT SOCIETY NOW WANTS YOU TO WANT WE NEVER HAD IT THIS BAD BACK IN THA DAY HAHAHA I paused for a while to let Sue think up a reply, but got inspired before she spoke. MAYBE NEED SOME1 OUTSIDE OF RATRACE TO SEE MAZE "Makes sense. It's still very profound." HAD 80 YEARS TO THINK AND LITTLE ELSE WATCHED DIFF PPL COME AND GO AND CHANGE OVER THE YEARS "I guess. I'm glad you just have someone to talk to now - and a way to communicate, too." ME 2 Sue sighed, and got up. "Anyways, I'm hungry - wanna watch me practice my favourite hobby?" OH WAIT U GOTTA GET PHONE CO OUT HERE TO UPGRADE LINE AND THEN GET ANSWERING MACHINE "But that'd disturb you - the house...why do I need an answering machine?" PHONE RANG TWICE 2DAY COUDLA BEEN DAVID Sue gasped. OR COULD BEEN TELEMKTRS AFTER ALL YOU DONT HAVE THE TELEZAPPER ONLY 7995 My 'ad' had the effect I intended, Sue burst out laughing. "I still think you're gonna turn into a couch potato; c'mon and watch me cook!" * * * That wasn't as much fun as it could have been; I did enjoy watching Sue prepare a meal, but I had no nose to smell the cooking food, and no mouth to taste it. I had fun anyway - I was able to move spice bottles along the counter at her request. Sue piled some cushions between the coffee table and the couch back in the sitting room, put a cheap tablecloth over the table, and sat on the cushions to eat her supper - an interesting looking goulash. She'd come out here so she could still talk to me during the meal...or rather, I could still talk back. U GET A TV IN KITCHEN "Yeah; I'll ask for a housewarming gift of a programmable TV. Say, would you be able to handle a typewriter?" NO TRIED IT KEYS TOO HARD TO PUSH "Well, we've come a long way-" PAPER ALSO HARD TO HANDL I LIKE THIS "I'm glad - but you wait 'til I get David here. He's a whiz with computers - he'll probably put together something even better for you." YEAH DAVID THAT SOUNDS NICE "You know, those may just be white letters on a blue screen, but I get the feeling that your tone of voice just changed." WELLLL "Are you worried about David meeting you? He's very open- minded; probably take to you better than me!" I was 'tonguetied' - I wasn't sure if I wanted to tell Sue what I thought about her situation with David. Telling HER that I thought he might be making the same mistakes I did probably wouldn't help. Ideally I'd sit *David* down warn him of my concerns. "Brad? Still here?" YES JUST THINKING "Well, Brad...I should tell you something - David's busy on a project a long way from here, then he's coming back to me. We've been living together for a few years now, and this current job is going to be his last with the company he works for. He's already given notice that he'll quit after he finishes this one last project. "When he comes here, we...we may be moving in for good. Not just renting, but BUYING this house. Your house." That - that gave me mixed emotions; it would be good to have Sue around - she was my first friend in a long, long time. And David sounded interesting - not to mention in need of some advice. But if they moved in permanently - if they bought my house, they would naturally want to make changes. Eventually they would want to have a family, and renovate - convert one of the rooms to a nursery, childproof the house. In short, they'd make it *their* house, and where would an old ghost fit in the house of a new family? Sue spoke up to fill the silence. "Um, that's if David likes the place. And I'd never agree to take over the house if it's not okay with you. I was supposed to get a short list of places to live, and try out one or two of them while David finishes up his project. "If you're not comfortable with us moving in, we do have other options to explore; don't feel obligated to take us in." She took her gaze from the screen and placed it upon the part of the couch closest to the remote - upon me. "It's up to you; if you don't want to try it, say so and I'll understand. And even if you do say it's okay, it still may not come to pass." That made me think about the other side of the coin; if they chose somewhere else to live. Sue would obviously want to use her time alone to 'scout' out these other places she had in mind. And even if she stayed, she eventually would leave. And I would lose my friend. I made my choice. BETTER A LITTLE HAPPINES THAN A LOT OF LONLINESS YOU HAVE MY BLESSING MI CASA EST SOU CASA SORY FOR THE BAD SPANISH She smiled, first at the screen, then at where I was. I was just thinking how perceptive she was, when she reached up and stroked my cheek...and I felt it. HOW Sue just pointed to a mirror. I turned and saw my 'white mantle' was back - again I was running on high emotion and more 'present' than normal, and attracting dust. I leaned forward again and tapped out the following thought: I LOOK LIKE INVISIBLE MAN WITH DANDRUFF It made my friend laugh. fin de deuxieme <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. 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