//------------------------------// // Chapter 27 // Story: The Haunting // by Admiral Biscuit //------------------------------// The Haunting Admiral Biscuit “She isn’t in the living room yet,” Milfoil whispered. “She might be playing in the attic, and planning to come down later. She’d probably know that since there isn’t any smoke coming from the chimney that nobody’s downstairs.” I had to make a decision—wait in the kitchen or sit in the living room with Milfoil. Since I was hungry, it was an easy decision to make. “I’ll cook dinner. I guess if she doesn’t show up by the time it’s ready, we’ll rethink the plan, otherwise—” She sighed. “Wag my tail.” Her ears drooped and then perked back up. “Or I could just come into the kitchen and get you.” “I think—I’m still worried about moving too quick, about scaring her again. But, you should do whatever you think is best. I’ll keep an eye on your, on your tail.” Milfoil turned her head and stuck her tongue out at me, then went the rest of the way into the living room to get the fire started, while I got the stove going again. I’d figured out how to bank the fire decently well so it kept radiating out some heat and would relight itself when new wood was put in. As I prepared a pot of soup, I kept looking into the living room. Milfoil had taken a seat on the couch where I could see her easily enough, and whenever I caught her eye, she’d shake her head. I hadn’t thought of this before, but it was possible that Windflower was hiding in a cupboard. She might have been downstairs already, looking in the kitchen, and when she heard the back door open, went for the quickest bolt-hole available to her. There wasn’t much I could do about that, except open the doors slowly and not open any if I didn’t have to. What was she up to? Why hadn’t she come down yet? ••••• The soup was progressing nicely when it finally hit me, and I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t already realized why she wasn’t coming down. She must know by now that there was a fire, and that meant that somebody was home—but she didn’t hear any talking, so for all she knew, it was only me. “I don’t think she’s going to come downstairs,” I said. No sense in whispering it. She could be upstairs listening for our voices, maybe just far enough away that if she heard me walking up the stairs she could beat a hasty retreat. “Not when it’s quiet.” “You might be right.” Milfoil looked down the hallway one more time. “I could call for her.” “I think she’d be happier coming down when she wants to. She’s not a dog to be called into the living room.” “If she comes on her own, you could ask her to wag her tail.” “I’m sorry.” I went to the kitchen door and leaned against the frame. “Look, if I had a tail, I’d want to wag it.” “First, how do you know? If you had a tail, you might think differently. Second, you’re dripping soup on your arm.” “I am?” I was still holding the spoon, and I was indeed dripping soup on my arm, so I did the logical thing and licked the drops off. “Hmm, not bad.” “Is that how human chefs taste their food?” “Not normally,” I said. “Well, I don’t know for sure; I’ve never worked in a professional kitchen. But I’ve watched Gordon Ramsay on TV, and he never did it.” Milfoil giggled, and I swear she wagged her tail. “It smells good.” “I’d like to let it reduce down some more before we eat,” I said. “It’s still too thin.” ••••• I didn’t need Milfoil to signal me that Windflower had come downstairs; she turned towards the hallway and so I went back to the pot, keeping an eye out for a signal. Once again, Milfoil wound up leaving the couch to approach Windflower more closely. I almost completely lost sight of her, but whether by accident or design, I could still see her right flank and more importantly her tail. Milfoil lowered her voice and shifted her tone into mommy mode. “It’s okay, Windflower, nopony’s going to hurt you. You’re safe here.” There was a bit of a hesitation, and while Windflower didn’t say anything—I was fairly certain that she couldn’t—she must have gestured towards the kitchen, towards where she’d heard my voice. “He’s not a monster. He’s nice. He’s kind of dumb sometimes, and he’s really sorry that he scared you. He didn’t mean to.” I wished that I could see what she was doing, but I didn’t dare move from the soup pot. She was engaging with Milfoil and that was the most important thing. Maybe I was kind of dumb sometimes, but but I wasn’t dumb enough to go into the living room and ruin everything. “Yes, the flowers are pretty, aren’t they? He got them for you, because he knew you liked them.” Another little pause, then: “You can go over and look at them closer if you want. He’ll stay in the kitchen, I won’t let him come out.” I got the message loud and clear. There was going to be no tail-wagging as a signal; if Windflower decided she wanted me to come out of the kitchen, Milfoil would tell me directly; if not, I’d stay right where I was. Luckily, I didn’t have to move around much, so I kept my back to the door. As curious as I was about what the filly was up to, I thought in the long term I’d get a better result if I was looking the other way if and when Windflower decided to look into the kitchen. Monsters didn’t stir soup. ••••• After Windflower had left, the two of us ate dinner. The soup wound up a little burned, but we didn’t care. “She’s still really nervous,” Milfoil said. “She kept looking into the kitchen to see what you were doing.” “I don’t blame her.” I didn’t—I was surprised that she was brave enough to come into the living room at all. “She’ll figure out that you’re not a threat sooner or later,” Milfoil promised. “Just dumb.” She had the courtesy to blush at my words. “I didn’t mean it like that.” “Why not?  It’s true. I was dumb, and I’m doing my best to make it better.” “I know.” She touched a hoof to my shoulder. “She’ll come around, you’ll see. It might take her a while, because—” I nodded. “I just wish that we could find her resting place. I’d feel a lot better about that. I—I’m the only one who’s seen it, who knows where it is, and if something were to happen to me. . . .” But I didn’t really know where it was, either. If there weren’t snow on the ground, I’d recognize it if I saw it, but for all I knew we’d gone past it already. “I know, too. And now that we know it’s out there, we can keep looking until we find it. You don’t have to talk like that.” “Just seeing her, it reminds me of my own mortality.” “Ssh, don’t think about that.” She leaned forward, and her muzzle brushed gently against my cheek, and without even thinking I turned my head and kissed her right on the nose. She jerked back and I stammered out an apology, which became far more heartfelt as she pressed her forehoof to my lips. She did wear shoes, I noticed. “I wasn’t expecting that.”  She touched her hoof to her nose. “I thought I was gonna have to be the one.” “I’m not that dumb.” Her cheeks were flushed and mine were, too. “It’s, a lot of stallions are kinda oblivious and you’ve gotta sort of—I wasn’t sure, you’re hard to read.” I put my arm around her. It was strange, she didn’t sit like a human, she had her rump on the couch and was also supporting herself with her forelegs, so my hand was touching her shoulder and sort of her bicep or whatever that was on ponies. “I’m not exactly an expert on pony body language, you know.” “So now what?” “I don’t know. I don’t know what kind of customs ponies have about this kind of thing—about dating.” “And I don’t know what humans do. I read one book that says that my family is supposed to give you a herd of goats.” I laughed. “That’s for a marriage, and that’s not something that most people do any more. Were you reading books on human dating and marriage customs?” “Maybe.” “Were you going to leave them lying around where I’d see them if I didn’t pick up any of your other hints?” “I could have. They’re not due back to the library for another week.” “I should have gone to the library and found a book on how to tell if a mare’s coming on to you. I never thought—” She brushed her cheek against mine. “Hmm?” “All of this. I never would have thought that my house would have a ghost or that I’d fall in love with my neighbor who probably thought I was crazy.” “You grew on me, ‘cause even though you’re kind of crazy, you’ve got a good heart and you’re really nice.” “We should kiss again.” She nodded. “But this time, let’s do it right.” “I agree.” She leaned in again, and this time we did it right.