Cold Stairs Read online

rehearsed, which was really only a half lie, “Fell down the stairs moving stuff.”

  “Sorry I couldn’t be here yesterday to help, picked up a Saturday shift at the mine. I told you I was coming today. That your recliner all bashed up by the curb?” Jim pointed out the window at the heap.

  “That’s what I was moving when I fell down the stairs.” Ryan dodged the truth a second time, but again it was only a half lie.

  “We’ll throw it in the back of my truck ‘fore I go and see if I can’t fix it up.” Jim stood, “So what’s goin’ upstairs other than the recliner? This bed over here?”

  Ryan hadn’t really thought about that. Originally it seemed obvious that upstairs would be the master bedroom. But did he really want to sleep up there? What might happen if he slept up there again? Probably nothing, but could he be sure of that? No. Something is definitely up there. Why was he so sure of that? I’m so friggin’ paranoid!

  “Help me lift it. Come on!” Jim lifted half the bed to his waist and Ryan realized he had totally zoned out.

  “Yeah… -uh wait! No. That’s going to stay down here. I was thinking upstairs would be good for Ronnie’s painting, with all the light and windows and such. We can put my desk up there too. And that recliner if you really think you can fix it.”

  That makes sense right? Use it as a hobby room? I’ll try sleeping down here tonight, and if that works I can use the downstairs bedroom and upstairs will be a hobby room.

  “Good thinking.” Jim set the bed down and lifted half the desk. Ryan squatted down and lifted the other half. The rest of the day they moved and unpacked everything Ryan had not finished the day before. After Jim left, Ryan was exhausted. He fixed a quick dinner then fell into a deep sleep in the downstairs bedroom.

  Ryan woke up without a scratch. Maybe nothing had really happened the day before after all. It didn’t change Ryan’s decision about the bedroom though; he liked the idea of having a room for Ronnie to do her painting. The bedroom downstairs was more private anyway, less windows. Ryan washed up, ate a quick breakfast and headed off for work. On his way out the door he glanced upstairs. He could barely see the corner of his desk, right where it should be… Nothing had been flung down the stairs.

  What did you expect? There’s no such thing as ghosts. Jim knows that, and you know that too.

  The week went by pretty quickly between work and last-minute wedding preparations. Everything was set. The wedding would be the next day and instead of a typical bachelor’s party Ryan was having a big dinner with a few friends at his parent’s house. Ryan preferred the comfort and security of dinner with his family and friends to a rowdy, crude party.

  Dinner was quite an affair. Ryan’s mother made her famous roast beef with her prized gravy recipe. There were green beans, fresh corn from a church friend’s farm, stuffing, and buttered rolls, with fresh watermelon for dessert.

  After dinner, dessert, and a toast of his father’s homemade east Kentucky shine, Ryan’s friends went home. Once everyone in the Tucker family including Ryan cleaned up the table and dishes, Ryan and Jim went out to sit on the back porch and enjoy the cool night air.

  “Big day tomorrow. You ready for it?” Jim took a swig of moonshine from the jar they had opened earlier and offered Ryan some.

  Ryan waved his hand as if to say no thank you, “I guess I’m ready. It’s… Well, exciting for sure, and…” Ryan smiled at his father and spoke what was on his heart, “The house is really great dad. I still don’t understand how you pulled that off. I know you wanted to give me the best, and you did, but if you need help paying for it-“

  “Hah! It’s a gift Ryan!” Jim chuckled, interrupting. “You don’t need to pay me anything, I’ve got it covered. Enjoy it.”

  “Oh, it’s great. I am enjoying it. It’s still a gift even if you need me to cover a little. I have a job that pays pretty well, and you don’t need to be working Saturdays, you’re getting older dad.”

  “Put it towards your kid’s college funds, or take Ronnie on a cruise or something.” Jim took another sip of his liquor, “and I’m not getting old, by the way. I’ve got another ten years before I need to slow down. At least. You doubt me? Let’s go. I’ll lay you on your ass right quick!” Jim joked as he punched Ryan’s shoulder playfully. Ryan winced a little because the shoulder was still a little sore from the fall the week before. Jim ignored this and continued, “Besides, I got a sweet deal on that place. Silly people sold it cheap.”

  “Silly people?” Ryan leaned forward. “What do you mean silly people?”

  “You know, silly folk. Superstitious bat-shit hippies or somethin’. They claimed the house was haunted with, ghosts or goblins or whatever crap they hallucinate smokin’ that shroom-dope stuff.” Jim paused and then added, “Don’t ever smoke that shroom stuff. Stick to regular dope.”

  Ryan and Jim looked at each other for a minute and then burst out laughing. They both knew the day Ryan lit up was the day pigs would fly, or hell would freeze over, or -a ghost throws me down the stairs. Ryan felt a sudden chill and hoped it wasn’t noticeable.

  “Well, I should head up to bed. Your mother is gonna throw a fit if I don’t get a good night sleep. See ya tomorrow.” Jim patted Ryan on the shoulder and got up to go inside.

  “Stay away from that shroom-dope Ryan, seriously.” Jim winked with a chuckle. They both had a good second laugh. As Ryan pulled out of the drive he thought again about the silly people and their ghosts. Ryan plopped into bed, but thoughts about the wedding and about ghost stories bounced around in his head like ball bearings in a blender, and the noise kept him awake.

  The wedding went smoothly and Ronnie loved the house. She loved the upstairs room for painting, and she loved the large yard for gardening. Ryan was relieved she didn’t ask why he didn’t put the bed upstairs. He didn’t want to appear childish; he wouldn’t be able to tell her about ghosts because she actually was an adult. She was strong and stable, and though she was only a year older than Ryan she had always seemed much older to him. He admired that in her; he felt they balanced each other out. He decided it wouldn’t be worth it to bring up the possibility of ghosts. She would think it was just one of his games. If anything really were happening they would certainly experience it together at some point and it would be better to mention it then.

  A week later he wished he had brought it up. Ryan had a late night on Thursday, getting in his full forty hours for the week so he could spend the weekend camping with Ronnie. When he finally got home at about nine in the evening she was sitting in the family room reading, sprawled out on the couch. As he set his briefcase down he noticed a bruise on her shin, a big bruise, ugly light purple.

  “Sorry I’m home so late. What happened Ron?” He sat down on the corner of the couch and pointed at her leg.

  “It’s fine. Do we have Friday free?”

  “Yeah, the whole weekend!” Ryan sat down next to her, “Your leg?”

  “Oh, it’s nothing, I tripped coming down the stairs. Got another one on my shoulder but I’m fine. Definitely nothing to hold me back from camping this weekend!” She set her book down and smiled.

  She fell down the stairs…too. Ryan glanced at the stairwell, from the living room couch he couldn’t quite see upstairs, but he felt a chill run up his neck just the same. He was certain something was up there.

  “What time are we getting up tomorrow to leave? Hon, you ok? Ryan?” Ronnie leaned forward concerned. Ryan was pale white and seemed to have frozen, staring up at the stairs. “Hon?”

  He snapped out of it. “We need to leave now.”

  “What? Why?”

  “We need to go, grab whatever you need. The lease out on your apartment yet?”

  “No, I have another week, but-“

  “Just get your stuff. I’ll explain in the car. We can get everything else tomorrow when it’s light outside. We really just need to go.” Ronnie gath
ered her things and they were out of the house in five minutes.

  Ryan told Ronnie everything in the car, about waking up in the foyer, the chills in his spine, what Jim said about the ‘silly people’, everything. Ronnie was silent at the end of the story. Finally, after a moment of silence Ronnie spoke:

  “When I started to walk down the stairs I didn’t just fall.” She paused, and Ryan was just about to ask her to continue when she took a deep breath and spoke again:

  “I felt something against my shin, as if someone stuck a leg out in front of me as I was walking. I began to lose my balance, and when I looked down to see what I had tripped on I felt a hand on my back give a little push and I fell. I didn’t want to worry you so I wasn’t going to say anything. It seems crazy to me.”

  “Not to me.”

  Ronnie put her hand on Ryan’s thigh, “I’m not sure I believe anything is really happening there, could be a coincidence. Maybe we’re overreacting. Do you really believe in ghosts?”

  “I didn’t think I did.”

  “It’s up to you, hon. I trust you.” Ronnie sighed, “What are you going to tell Jim?”

  “I don’t know yet. I guess the truth.”

  Ronnie leaned back in her seat and glanced at Ryan. She looked worried.

  Jim got really angry when Ryan told him everything over the phone. He was astounded Ryan might be a silly