Asylum

Chapter 5-3

I buried my head under my borrowed blanket, trying to avoid the sunlight that was beaming in and attacking me.

“Make it stop,” I groaned.

“I may be a Dom, but even I can’t command the sun, pup.”

I considered continuing my whining, but then caught the undeniably delicious smell of bacon. And…ooo…was that…

“Pancakes?”

“Only for good little pups that come out of hiding.”

That was enough motivation for me. Squinting, I emerged and sat upright.

“Oh, hey there, pooch!” He was hard to see, with the sun in my eyes, but apparently Mike had a large white dog in his tiny apartment. How did I miss that last night? “What’s your dog’s name?” I yelled to Mike.

I heard a clatter in the kitchen, but he didn’t answer. After a full minute of silence, I got up and walked over to the kitchen to check on Mike. He must have just plated the food, because he stood in front of the steaming plates, but he was white as a ghost. Actually, that’s a misnomer, as ghosts aren’t actually any whiter than they were in living color. But Mike had lost all color. He looked up at me.

“What did you just ask me?”

“I was wondering what your dog’s name is.” I gestured to the living room where I left him playing.

“Are you telling me that you saw a dog in this apartment?” He spoke slowly and seriously, very different than the Mike I had grown accustomed to since last night.

Oh s**t. I walked back over to the couch, and from this new angle, I could see what I hadn’t noticed before. The dog was a ghost. I knelt next to him and leaned in to read his dog tag.

“Hey Kramer,” I said softly. His issued a silent woof and rolled onto his back, wagging his tail.

“You can actually see him?” Mike asked from right behind me. I hadn’t heard him come into the room. He sounded like he was on the verge of tears.

“Yeah.”

After catching sight of Mike, Kramer returned to all fours and chased his tail excitedly for a moment. Then he ran over to the TV stand and appeared to bark repeatedly, pawing at the doors to the cubby underneath the TV.

“He’s interested in whatever you have in that cabinet underneath the TV.”

Mike hesitantly walked over and knelt, opening the doors to reveal an almost-empty cabinet. The only thing inside was a red rubber ball. At the sight of the ball, Kramer became even more excited. He nosed into the cabinet and pulled out a ghost version of the ball with his mouth.

Then he flopped once again onto his back and began playing the strangest game I’ve ever seen a dog play. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“What’s he doing?”

“What a nut. He’s got the red ball, and he keeps holding it up between his front paws, then dropping it into his mouth. Then he pulls it out of his mouth with his paws and drops it in again. I’ve never seen a dog do that.”

“Yeah, Kramer is one of a kind,” Mike said affectionately, wiping dampness off his right cheek.

“So you believe me?” I asked tentatively, picking at a hole in my jeans. This was going way better than I had feared, but I still expected Mike to kick me out of his apartment at any moment.

“There’s no other way you could know about that. He passed about five years ago, and he only ever did that for me when we were home alone and he was bored.” Mike looked at where I had indicated Kramer was playing, and said softly, “Miss you, buddy.”

At Mike’s words, Kramer gave one more silent bark and then ran and disappeared through the closed apartment door.

“He’s gone now.”

“I can’t believe that just happened.” Mike stood there, stunned.

“I really can see ghosts, Mike. Last night Devon didn’t believe me because I was high. He thought it was the drugs. But it wasn’t.”

At that, Mike’s expression cleared a bit as he put the pieces together.

“You saw David with him.”

“David?”

“His brother. He passed away unexpectedly last month.”

“That would track.” He definitely seemed like a new ghost. “They looked a lot alike.”

Mike grabbed our food and brought it back to the couch for us to share as we discussed the problem at hand. I rehashed what had happened with Devon, which had led to him demanding that I leave the club.

“In all fairness, Justin, it was not a smart move to try to play while under the influence. You’re lucky you ended up with Devon and not someone else who could have really taken advantage of the situation.”

I knew that. I felt like a big moron.

“You’re totally right. I get that. I wasn’t thinking with my brain.”

“Clearly there were other organs in charge.”

I smirked and fought back a moan as I munched on the delicious pancakes and bacon drenched in syrup.

“This is amazing,” I said with my mouth half-full. “Thank you. For everything.”

“You’re welcome, pup.”

“Speaking of pups, what kind of dog is Kramer?”

“A labradoodle. Funny story—I was told they were hypoallergenic, that they don’t shed. But apparently that’s only after the second generation. He was first generation. So, I ended up with a hundred-pound fluff ball that not only had more hair than any other dog on the planet, but also shed like a motherfucker.” He smirked.

“And the name Kramer?”

“Oh, well, my neighbor had a very personable Rottweiler named Jerry, so…” He shrugged and smiled, snacking on his bacon.