Duke, The Spook

4. Violet

When Duke zoned back in a few hours later, the room was dark. Still saddened by his confusing new situation, he shook his head as though he could shake away the feelings. No more moping, he told himself. Don't look back. This is your afterlife now.

Duke stood and went to the door. The hallway was also dark, and the house was silent. He went to the landing. The main floor seemed completely dark, too. The attic door was closed, as was the door to Mr. and Mrs. Gunderson's bedroom at the top of the stairs. It must have been late. Everyone seemed to be in bed.

Duke went downstairs and into the living room. He looked at the unfamiliar furniture, made even more unfamiliar as the darkness transformed it into nothing more than gray forms. He felt another twinge of feeling out of place.

If this is going to work, I can't feel sorry for myself. Duke told himself. He started for the stairs. I'll stay out of their way for a few days while they unpack. Then I can learn their routines so I don't have to stay hidden away all the time. This won't be so bad.

He was at the foot of the stairs when he heard a door open and close on the second floor. He looked up to find a small light bounce away from the attic door and towards the stairs.

"They're still taking their sleeping pills. They'll sleep through anything," Violet said as she started down the stairs. "Once, I burned some grilled cheese really bad and set off the fire alarm and they slept right through it. Mom asked me what smelled funny the next morning."

Laughter erupted from Violet's phone. "Maybe you should stick with cereal."

Duke backed away from the stairs.

"Probably," Violet said. She reached the main floor and started for the kitchen.

While Duke didn't feel right about spying on Violet in the attic—he didn't like thinking about it as "her room" just yet—eavesdropping in a common area was entirely different. Hearing things was simply a part of being a ghost. He could respect the privacy of Violet in the attic and even Mr. and Mrs. Gunderson in their bedroom, but he wasn't about to run away every time one of them spoke. This was still his house, after all. He was just allowing them to live there. Plus, while he didn't admit it to himself, there was a thrill to overhearing things. It was something he missed.

I just want to learn more about Violet, Duke told himself. Listening to her speak with a friend with no adults around will give me a good idea of who she is.

So, with hardly a hesitation, Duke followed Violet into the kitchen.

"What are you going to do tonight?" the voice from the phone said.

Violet turned on the kitchen light. "I don't know. There's no cable or internet, yet. So, I'll probably just go walk around."

Duke was surprised to see that the kitchen was mostly unpacked. New appliances stood along the countertop. Three padded stools waited near a raised portion of the kitchen island made especially for eating meals. Only a few unpacked boxes remained. A tall stack of boxes were already folded down and placed by the sliding glass doors to the backyard.

"By yourself?" the voice from the phone said.

"Please," Violet said. She propped up her phone on the kitchen island against an unpacked box. "I'll be fine. This is a small town. And I still have my pepper spray."

"Just be careful."

"I know. I'm not stupid. But you don't get it. This place is so small. No one will be around."

"Sounds nice."

Violet went to the enormous new fridge and yanked open the door. It was already filled with food. White and chocolate milks, juices, fruits, meats. Condiments of every kind filled the narrow shelves inside the door.