"He wants the house," Davy explained.
"He?" Micky repeated. He looked around nervously. "Great. A haunted house."
Davy shook his head. "No. The ghost doesn't care if you have the house," he explained. "Marcus wants the house. What we have to figure out is why." He quickly recalled his entire conversation to his friends.
"Well, I guess the first thing to do is to start looking. Maybe there's something valuable here," Mike suggested with a shrug.
"No way, man," Micky replied. "There wasn't nothing in this house when we got it." He paused and frowned. "'Course we didn't check the attic," he recalled. "Or the basement."
"Let's start in the attic," Mike suggested, and the three went to look.
A half hour later, the three returned. "This isn't going to work," Davy decided. "The only thing in the attic was a bunch of old boxes and some cobwebs."
Micky frowned. "Remind me to get that cleaned someday," he commented. "It's dusty up there." He dusted himself off and shook his head slightly to remove the dust, sneezing in the process.
"And we checked for loose boards and stuff," Mike recalled. "I guess if there's anything valuable here it's gotta be in the basement."
"I don't know if there is anything here, you guys," Davy replied. "If there was, the dead man would 'ave mentioned it, right?"
Micky shrugged. "It's worth a shot," he decided. And so the three headed down to the basement.
"And do you…" the priest began.
Davy yawned from his seat in the front pew. The wedding seemed like it had been going on for hours.
"I do," Micky replied to the priest's question.
Davy blinked a few times to try and stay awake. They'd stayed up way to late the night before.
"…take this man to be…" the priest continued.
Their searching had been futile after all. There was absolutely nothing in the house. Boxes. Cobwebs. That was it. Not even an old photo album with compromising blackmail pictures.
"I do," Jenny answered.
Even after he'd gone to bed, he'd found it hard to sleep. He still kept thinking. What could Marcus want with the house?
"…then by the power vested in me by…"
Of course, it didn't help that they didn't know who Marcus was. Not that they'd have enough evidence to get him in trouble.
"…I now pronounce you…"
Davy imagined them walking into the police station with an unidentified Marcus. 'Yes sir, I'd like to have this man arrested. A ghost told me he wants my friend's house and he'd kill to get it.' The policeman would laugh so hard.
"…husband and wife!"
Cheers erupted from the people in the pews. Davy snapped himself back to reality, realizing that he'd hardly paid attention. As the cheerful organ music played and the couple made their way down the aisle, he found himself remembering precisely why he didn't like weddings. And then he didn't feel so bad about not paying attention.
As he went with the rest of the crowd out to the front of the church (and then to the reception), Davy kept thinking about Marcus and the ghost. Throughout the rowdy party he remained half lost in his own world as he pondered what on earth Marcus could want from that house.
It wasn't until he was at home and in bed that he realized what it was.
Micky awoke the morning after his wedding night to hear a phone ringing in his ear. He ignored it.
Beside him, his new wife groaned and buried her head under her pillow. "Don't they know not to bother newlyweds?" she grumbled.
The phone continued ringing. After about the tenth ring, Micky leaned over and picked up the contraption from his nightstand.
"Go away!" he half mumbled, half shouted into the receiver, and then hung up. He pulled the cord out of the back of the phone so that he wouldn't be disturbed again.
Jenny rolled over again and snuggled next to him. "That was a bit rude, don't you think?" she asked.
Micky shrugged without opening his eyes. "They deserved it," he replied.
"Hmm. True," she replied.
There was silence for a few moments when suddenly, both were awakened by a loud crash in the hallway outside. In unison, they sat up.
"What on earth was that?" Jenny wondered.
Micky answered: "Search me. But we'd better go check it out."
"I hope it's not an intruder."
"Actually, I think it's probably a ghost," he replied.
"Don't remind me," Jenny shuddered slightly. "I'm not comfortable living someplace haunted."
"He's a nice ghost," he reminded her.
"Yeah, but it's still a ghost."
"Actually, it's not," came a voice from the hallway. Both newlyweds turned.
A tall, thin, dark-haired man wearing a suit stepped into the room. The suit was a pale pink color, and he held a small revolver in his left hand. He twirled it once and then pointed it in front of him.
"You see, one of these is more lethal than a silly ghost," the man said by way of explanation.
The newlyweds exchanged glances once before Micky spoke up. "Who are you?"
Flashing what he believed to be a debonair smile, the intruder ran his free hand through his hair. "Marcus Lumbley," he replied in a cool and calm voice.
"Uh-huh. And why, Mr. Lumbley, are you in our bedroom?" Jenny asked, unimpressed by his attempted suave-ness.
Marcus frowned for a moment. "You don't know?" he asked. Both shook their heads. "Oh, that's right. You're out of the loop. The innocent bystanders. The people who don't get it."
Micky and Jenny exchanged blank looks.
Lumbley rolled his eyes. "I'm here to kill you, of course," he replied as though it should be obvious.
Both his hostages nodded as though that should be reasonable. "That's what the gun's for then," Micky decided with a nod.
Lumbley nodded, pleased with himself.
"Um. Right. Can you tell us why?" Jenny asked.
She and her new husband stared pointedly at the gunman.
"Oh. That's easy. Because I want the house."
They nodded again. Then realization dawned on them. "Oh!" Micky said. "The house!" He looked to Jenny. "He wants the house," he told her.
"The house?" Jenny was blank for a moment. "Oh! The house!" she realized. "Not something in the house. The house itself!"
Micky nodded, pleased with himself for figuring it out. "Explains it, doesn't it?" She nodded in agreement.
"We should have figured that out before, shouldn't we have?" she asked.
He nodded. "Kinda dumb of us, huh?" he agreed.
Lumbley stamped his foot on the ground to get their attention. Neither noticed.
"Well, we were thinking that he wanted something else, you know," Jenny offered by way of explanation.
"Yeah. Funny how it was right in front of our noses though," Micky agreed with a chuckle.
"Yup."
"Excuse me!" Lumbley interrupted, getting slightly annoyed.
"Well, you know. Sometimes you're trying so hard to see something you can't see it."
"Right," Jenny agreed. "Like when you're in the store, looking for the right brand of soup - "
"And it's right in front of your nose!" Micky finished. He nodded solemnly. "Happens to everybody. And the sales person comes over and shows you where it is."
"Always makes me feel so dumb," Jenny nodded sympathetically.
"Hey!" Lumbley was really shouting now. "I'm trying to kill you!"
"Sometimes the most obvious stuff is right in front of your nose," Jenny agreed. "Shall I?"
"You're supposed to pay attention to me!" Marcus shouted again.
"Please do. I think he could use some cooling off," Micky suggested.
"I'm the guy with the gun!!!"
"You sure? It would be fun to fire him up some more," Jenny replied.
"You're supposed to be scared of me!"
"Maybe you could blow him away with your great intellect," Micky tried.
"EXCUSE ME!!!" Marcus was really ranting now, almost jumping up and down.
"How about all three in one?"
"You can do that?"
"I've got a gun!! Be afraid of me!"
"Yeah, sure, why not?"
"Okay. Go for it."
There was silence for a moment. Then, Marcus felt something wet and something hot hit him full force. He was blown backwards, out the door. Once in the hall, he crashed into the wall and was knocked out.
When he finally was aware of his situation, he looked up to see his two hostages and two other men staring down at him.
"Looks like we didn't have anything to be worried about after all," a tall one noted.
"Yup," the one who had been his hostage agreed. "Jenny took care of 'em."
The woman agreed, grinning and flexing her skinny arms. "I should be a body guard, right?"
"I guess we should have known they'd be safe," the shortest one commented.
"Funny how we didn't see what was in front of our eyes though," the tall one stated. "Should have known he wanted the house."
"Yeah, well, it was like we were saying before," the woman agreed. "Can't see what's in front of your own face sometimes."
The others laughed in agreement, and Marcus slipped back into unconsciousness.
END
Click here to see a picture of Marcus Lumbley.
