Day One - Bee

I live in a haunted house.

Well, it’s not exactly haunted as the ghosts come and go. None of them stick around for too long. Some stay longer than others. The only person who sticks around is me.

I’m the owner of the Whispering Wood, a bed and breakfast tailored to guests from the afterlife.

While we do get the occasional living guest from time-to-time, they aren’t prone to staying with us for long. Some journey out here hearing rumours about our ghostly guests and stay the night to see if they can capture them on camera or through some other means. Other living guests include visitors from town coming to visit, or a fellow member of the Ghost Seeing Association (not a real organization) looking to make a connection with someone similar.

This Sunday afternoon I’m in the middle of reading my latest romance find when the front door to our home is forcefully pushed open. It makes a loud creak, the hinges of the door straining with effort. It’s not usual for a guest to open the door.

In walks a tall, broad-shouldered man, his footsteps loud on the wooden floor. He’s got a scruffy appearance to him, dark shaggy hair and beard, and a worn red flannel shirt. The fact that he’s making noise, isn’t partially see-through, and had to open the door to enter are all clues that he’s alive.

He comes up straight to my counter and lets his shoulder bag drop to the floor with a thud.

“I’m looking for a room.” He says and looks at the name tag in front of me. “Evelyn, would you be able to help me with that?”

I smile at him and reach down to grab a form. “How long will you be needing a room for?”

“A while, I’m helping with the rebuild project up at Gale’s. You know, after the forest fires.”

I nod. Gale’s cabins were hit the hardest, she almost lost her life because of it. I’m glad I haven’t had to have her as a guest.

We go through the usual questions. The man doesn’t express a lot of emotion with his answers other than sleepy. He rubs his eyes and I see him supress a yawn a couple of times.

Theodore is his name, Theo for short. And he’ll be staying here for the next month.

“And how will you be paying for your stay?” I ask him as we finish up.

He reaches up and touches the back of his head, now not making eye contact.

“About that, I heard that, how do I put this… due to the nature of your hotel, you accept other forms of payment? You know, because of the ghosts.” He says the last part in a whisper which almost makes me want to giggle.

He’s right about the alternate forms of payment. Staying at the Whispering Wood isn’t free, and I accept payment in whatever form a ghost is willing to provide. I don’t know how, and I don’t care to know why, but often when a guest finishes their stay with us, I tend to find some sort of valuable object left behind in their rooms what wasn’t there before. Some I keep and some I sell. The ghosts will never come back for these objects. That’s what my aunt taught me.

“For our,” I pause, “living guests, we typically charge a monetary fee. But if you aren’t able to afford that I’m sure we could work something out.”

“I’m good with my hands, wood, uh,” He turns away from me again, a slight blush on his cheeks, “I can fix things.”

There are a plethora of repairs that I do need done around here.

“That could work.” I smile warmly at him and turn around to grab his keys.

When I turn back around I see Mrs Thompson, one of our ghost guests, hovering around Theo like a bee admiring a flower.

“Mrs Thompson, you must respect his personal space.” I scold her. She tends to be quite nosy about what happens around here.

She waves her hand at me as if to shoo me away.

“I may be dead but that doesn’t mean I can’t admire a good-looking fella like him.” She says as she circles Theo, taking in his appearance from top to bottom. She takes a longer stare at his literal bottom.

“Are you talking to someone… is someone there?” Theo asks as his eyes go wide and he jerks his head to look over his shoulder.

I clasp my hand over my mouth. I’m so used to speaking to our guests without taking into account that someone else may not see them. It’s incredibly rude of me.

Mrs Thompson, seemingly bored of this interaction now, hovers away and into the dining room.

“She’s gone now.” I say quietly.

“I’m going to have to get used to that.” Theo chuckles.

My face cracks into a wide smile and I thrust his room keys towards him.

“You’ll be in room 301. Welcome to Whispering Woods! I hope you enjoy your stay.”