Snippet #1557688

Four days. Had it really been four days? If the time hadn't been marked by the setting of the sun and the little numbers changing on his cell phone, he would never have known. That was all the damn thing was good for up here, anyway. What was with the crappy reception? Didn't people take cell phones to the cottage anymore? Not that he had anyone to call, regardless. He hadn't bothered to tell his parents where he'd gone. What did it matter? They might not have clued in he was even missing, yet.

Four days. It all felt like a dream, almost. Like he was detached from reality, and he wasn't really part of it, just watching as things happened and time went by, while the only thing that anchored him to this place was his body. It was actually nice up here, though. He felt like he could breathe. The trees seemed brighter when he bothered to look at them, the air was cleaner, the birds were louder. And the stars - the stars were amazing. Jesse had liked stars, hadn't he? There had been a couple times where he'd practically dragged Mason outside after the sun went down, oblivious to his complaints, and sat in the frigid darkness staring up the at the sky. He'd even known the names of some of them. And those silly lines they drew in the sky. What were they called? Consternation, or something like that. Consultations? Whatever. That was not a pair of fish no matter how hard you stared at it. Seriously. Those people must have been touched in the head.

Bringing Max along had been a great idea. The pup - as usual - seemed to know when he wanted to be alone, and when he wanted the silent comfort of his warmth curled at his feet, or even up on the couch with him. He'd found himself sleeping on the couch with Max curled on top of him several times, at the oddest of hours. Once he even woke to catch that girl staring at him. Lulu. She was grinning like she thought it was the cutest thing in the world. A snappy retort had come to him, but he hadn't had the heart to utter it. She was a sweet girl. Curious, to a fault. She kept bugging him, told him talking about things might make it better, and would not relent. Probably couldn't blame her - there was not much to do up here except talk to one another. At least she had tenacity, he had to give her that. She had that in common with Jesse, at least. Maybe he ought to give her a chance. Definitely a cute little thing, though. And so curious! Yes, again! She'd spent the first day exploring every nook and cranny of the place, and found that creepy old board somewhere tucked away like it had been very, very bad. There was something about it that just didn't sit right with him. She constantly found ways to bring it up, or suggest they should try to use it.

Like now. Without pretense, she hauled it over to where he was sitting and dropped it in front of him, the dull note emanating from the lacquered wood thudding onto the coffee table resounding like the toll of some depraved, sullen bell. He'd never seen one before they'd come here, but he'd heard about them, like in stories. He hadn't known they'd even actually existed. Supposedly they were some connection to the spirit realm - if you believed in that - and that you could communicate with ghosts - if you believed in them - by channeling through someone in the room who had a touch of ESP - if you believed in that. It all seemed like a bunch of hogwash to him. At least, it did in theory. But here was this thing, practically pulsing with a veritable 'Do Not Touch Me' warning. Blow it all. He was never one to heed warnings, anyway. And there was nothing to do. And for every hair that stood on end when he looked at the thing, something else in the back of his mind could not help but wonder. Maybe they could talk to Jesse.

"Fine." He shuffled forward on the couch so he could lean forward over the table, causing Max to lift his head in irritation at having his comfy sprawl disturbed. "How does this crap work?" He spied what she was doing, and deigned to copy it, putting an index finger on the little plastic thing, trying his best to ignore the sudden wave of palpable dread the moment he did so, "Do we just ask it random junk? Like, 'O, Mystical Spirits of the Unknown, please tell us how many beers are in the fridge!'" He smirked at his own joke, though the smile quickly evaporated once he glanced down and saw that the little plastic thingy had already begun to move, and was now quite clearly indicating the number 3. He tossed an accusatory glance at Lulu, though there was little conviction behind it. "Hey. Quit messin' around. Stop movin' it."

Just then, Max picked himself off the couch and silently left the room. Mason watched the dog go, and part of him felt like he should do the same. Instead, he met Lulu's gaze, then glanced down at the board.