Duke, The Spook

9. Potential

After meeting Violet, there was little else Duke could think about other than when and how he would spend more time with her. She gave him an open invitation to stop by, but that was specifically for the afternoon, which just wasn't possible. The only way to make himself known would be to go outside and knock on the front door, and if he did that the neighborhood boys were likely to see him and Mrs. Gunderson was likely to answer the door—and those were all people Duke didn't want to see him.

No, Duke decided. If I'm going to spend more time with Violet, it has to be at night in the park.

Meeting in the park, however, presented different problems.

Firstly, Violet didn't go to the park every night. Of course, he could wait to see if she left the house and then meet her, but he doubted it would be believable that they just happened to meet every time she went to the park. It would be more likely that there would be nights when she showed up and he didn't and vice versa. That meant that he would have to be patient before meeting Violet again.

Then there was the matter of his clothing. He hadn't ever thought about it, but he had worn the same clothing since his death. They never got dirty and were never uncomfortable. They were just a part of him as much as his hand or foot. Why would he have ever given his clothing a second thought? But after Violet had commented on them, he was certain that she, someone who made her own unique clothing, would notice if he always wore the same thing.

Thinking about the only other ghosts he had ever seen, Duke realized that while Earl had never worn anything but his denim overalls, Vincent's clothing had changed, and quite frequently throughout the years. He always wore a suit, but the color changed. So did his tie. Sometimes he had a pocket square or a pocket watch on a gold chain or a hat. Sometimes he carried a shiny cane, the metal handle anything from a snarling wolf head to a miniature skull to a talon. Sometimes he wore gloves that could either be white or black. He had seen it all along, but he had never needed to think about it until that very moment. Vincent somehow changed his clothing, and if he could do that then Duke should be able to, as well.

Knowing that it could be months before Vincent decided to show up again on his own, Duke knew he would need to call him. It was as simple as saying his name a few times, but still he hesitated. What would Vincent think? That Duke was turning back to his old ways? He managed to hold off for two days. Then Violet left the house and he knew he couldn't wait any longer.

"Vincent," Duke said as he paced the empty room at the end of the upstairs hallway. "Vincent."

"Good evening, young Duke."

Duke turned to find Vincent standing immediately behind him. His suit was dark with white pinstripes. A bright white tie with a textured floral pattern hung from a crisp knot at the base of his throat.

"Good evening," Duke said.

"It has been such a long time since you have called on me," Vincent said. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" He clasped his hands behind his back and and leaned forward a little, bending at the waist.

Duke hesitated. He took a step back. "I need you to teach me how to change my clothes."

One of Vincent's eyebrows arched halfway up his forehead. His lips curled into a smirk. "Oh." He straightened and began to pace a slow circle around Duke.

"I'm . . . I'm . . ." Duke struggled to find an excuse that wasn't Violet, "tired of . . . of this." He motioned to his clothing.

"Understandable. But why all of a sudden?"

Duke's nerves sizzled, and he wondered if the temperature of the room changed. If it had, would Vincent notice? Would he know Duke was lying. Did he already know he was lying?