36. Nothing to Fear

Maybe some teens would take advantage of an empty house in a different way from Kelsey and me. A couple into each other might end up doing something with those feelings. Something more than just watching another flick on the flat-screen television in a family room.

These are my thoughts as we finish watching the movie, with Kelsey tucked in between my arms and legs as if I’m a gigantic beanbag. I can’t help but think them, just because … I can’t help it.

But this is Kelsey, and I know she’s not that kind of a girl. It sounds like a cliché but I can’t say it any other way.

And all of this proves to be a good thing, because her parents come home a lot earlier than Kelsey expects. Since the family room opens up to the kitchen, we see them walk in and greet us. Both of them are dressed up and look like they’re coming from some fancy adult function.

“How are you doing, Chris?” Mr. Page asks.

I stand and shake his hand. For a while we make small talk. We tell them what movie we saw, what pizza we ate, just typical chitchat with parents.

“I’m not used to wearing a tie,” Mr. Page says, taking it off and folding it in his hands. “I’d hate to have to wear one of these every day.”

“Yeah, me too,” I say.

Before he leaves the room, I have a random thought that has occasionally popped into my head at weird times. I don’t want to ignore Kelsey, but I don’t think she’ll mind if I ask her father something.

The first time I was here, he showed me a map of the original Solitary in his office.

“Mr. Page, can I ask you a question?”

For a second he looks very surprised, a bit too surprised. I quickly add that it’s about the history of Solitary. This makes his look calm down.

I wasn’t going to ask you if I could marry Kelsey.

“Do you know the history of Indian Bridge?”

Mr. Page unbuttons the top two buttons on his dress shirt as he smiles. “Did you go up there recently?”

“I’ve seen it.”

“We used to go there when I was a kid. They say you can see the ghost of a dead Indian crossing the bridge at midnight. It’s silly, but I remember being totally freaked out. You ever go there, Kel?”

“No way,” Kelsey says.

“She’s like her mother,” Mr. Page says. “Hates anything to do with scary stories. So don’t ever take her to see a horror movie.”

I laugh.

Ha ha.

That’s great. Thanks, Mr. Page.

Little does your daughter know she’s in a horror story.

“Why is the bridge supposed to be haunted?”

“Everything is supposedly haunted around here,” Mr. Page says. “I think it’s part of living in the mountains and the woods. People like making up ways to creep each other out and have some fun. That bridge was the first one of its kind built years ago. It helped people get from Asheville to Greenville when there was only a tiny road going through the mountains. They say there were Indians who helped build it, and some of them died during the construction. They say the men building the bridge just tossed the dead bodies of the Indians off the bridge.”

“Dad!”

“What?”

Mr. Page looks at Kelsey with an innocent What did I do? look.

“I’m going to have nightmares now.”

Join the club, Kelsey.

“Sorry. Just telling Chris what they say. I’m sure it’s not true.”

“Did you ever see anything?” Kelsey asks.

“No. Except one time Bruce, an old buddy of mine, dressed up as an Indian and scared the lights out of two girls we brought up there. One of those happened to be your mom.”

“I remember that story,” Kelsey says.

I’ve got some more stories for you. How about faceless shadowy men who live underneath the bridge and hide out, waiting …

“It’s actually a really beautiful bridge in the daylight. It’s amazing that they built it years ago and that it’s now in the middle of the woods. We should go there sometime.”

“Uh, no thanks,” Kelsey says.

She’s beginning to look a bit impatient at this conversation. Either because it’s talking about something scary or because it’s with her father.

Mr. Page seems to get the message and tells us good night. We’re left alone again, but not really.

It’s totally different now.

Well, not completely different.

Kelsey and I are on the couch with the television on, but we’re just watching each other. A blanket covers us, and I have her wrapped up in one arm. It’s amazing because she’s so delicate but also surprisingly tall when she’s standing next to me.

“They’re not coming in here,” she says.

I nod, but I’m not convinced.

But Kelsey—Little Ms. Shy Kelsey—kisses me.

And once again I’m lost.

Once again I’m free.

I don’t want to leave here. I don’t want this feeling I have to end.

Before I go, I tell her what I’m feeling.

I tell her what I’m afraid of.

“I don’t want anything to happen to you,” I say.

She doesn’t understand what that means.

How could she?

She doesn’t know the truth about Jocelyn or Lily.

You’re being stupid, Chris.

“Nothing’s going to happen to me,” she says.

I want to say more, but she kisses me again and shuts me up.

I could really grow used to that.

It’s a pretty awesome thing.