Duke, The Spook

7. The Problem

Duke walked around to the back of the house, admiring how different everything looked in the early morning light. The darkest shadows had paled, and he could see so many more details. The creases on blades of grass, the countless furrows in tree bark. It was a whole different world than the one he had seen just hours before, and it was just as beautiful in a whole different way.

After peeking into the kitchen through the sliding glass door to make sure no one was around, Duke slid open the door, slipped inside, and then closed the door behind himself. Once the door was closed, he noticed how much quieter it was inside the house. It was like stepping into a photograph where nothing moved or made a noise. He found himself missing the textures and sounds and colors of the outside. He missed the way it felt to not be closed in by walls. For the first time since his death, Duke wished he wasn't inside his house.

Don't get carried away now, Duke told himself. Being outside is great, but this is still your home. It will always be your home. And with that, Duke shoved aside the wonder of the outside world and went upstairs to the empty room across the hall from Mr. Gunderson's office.

Duke told himself he really needed to plan out what he would do and say when he met Violet, but he couldn't focus on that. All he could think about was being outside. He found himself peering out the window, looking into neighboring backyards and further. To his surprise, the things that looked farther away seemed to be smaller, but he knew that couldn't be right. It was some sort of trick. Of course he must have noticed that trick before, but he had never really noticed it until then. He smiled to himself. The next time he went outside he would stare at something far away that looked smaller than he thought it really was. He would walk towards it and watch it grow with each step he took, like something sprinkled with magic dust in a fairy tale.

So preoccupied with the outside, Duke barely registered the faint noises of Mr. and Mrs. Gunderson as they moved about the house. He didn't hear Mr. Gunderson remind Mrs. Gunderson that he had a business meeting in the city. He didn't hear Mrs. Gunderson wish him farewell and then settle into the living room. He didn't hear Violet when she left the attic and went to the kitchen to eat something in the early afternoon. It wasn't until he saw something out of the corner of his eye that he was pulled away from his fascination with the outside.

It was Violet. Mr. Gunderson's office door was open and Violet stood in front of the bookcases. Unaware he was doing so, Duke moved closer to the door.

She stood there, scanning the shelves, arms crossed. Every so often she let out an exasperated sigh. She searched the bookcases that held the fiction and nonfiction once, twice, then a third time. Finally, she stood back, her face twisted in concentration. "Ravyn must have it." Her phone appeared in her hand, she tapped the screen a few times, and then held it up to her ear.

She started down the hallway, and just before she slipped through the attic door, "Hey. Did I leave my collected Poe with you? I can't find it anywhere."

Poe, he thought. I . . . don't love Poe—but I enjoy him well enough. I wonder what else she likes to read.

Duke crossed the hall and started scanning the bookshelves. He hadn't yet looked through Mr. Gunderson's books. He was surprised at himself. That was normally one of the first things he did after a new family moved in.

I should have been reading instead of lying around bored to death, he thought. Instead of feeling sorry for myself, he correct himself.

There were all of the classics that Duke would have expected—Moby Dick, Shakespeare, A Tale of Two Cities, and so on—but also a lot of picture books. He focused to make his arms solid so he could slide the books out just far enough to see the cover artwork. There were so many cute drawings, and even though he felt silly about it he looked forward to looking through them.