“You know, Rickton thinks of you as his Eddy.” Dad off-handedly replied, continuing our conversation.
“But I’m eleven,” I said, stressing the word like Dad did. He chuckled. “Eddy is nineteen, so he’s braver.”
“Rickton’s four. If you’re scared, how terrified must he be” I looked over to my right to find him snoring away in an armchair in my blanket, oblivious to the fact that we were discussing him, or you know, in an abandoned house. Running to catch up with dad’s long legged strides, I entered the living room behind him. It was dusty, but clean, and I helped Dad make some sandwiches. Heading back to get Rickton, I found him sitting up, blanket gone.
~
“He dropped your blanket down the stairwell and is blaming it on a ghost?” Dad asked, continuing the conversation.
“He denied it, but I don’t believe him,” I said. The silence hung in the air for a moment.
“He’s four, Bran. Let’s say he did do it. What does that change? Maybe he just wants you to pay attention to him.”
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“That doesn’t make sense,” I whined. “Neither did you,” Dad laughed, handing me the flashlight. “You did the same thing to Eddy, and he told me the same thing.” Pouting, I went back to find Rickton.
Walking up to the stairwell, it looked monstrous - like the gaping maw of a wooden demon. Looking to my side, I saw Rickton, his face watching mine. Trying to make my face neutral I moved pasts the railing and down the first few stairs, only to realize Rickton was waiting at the top of the stairs.
“C’mon Rickton” I called, trying to be casual, not at all like I wanted to sprint back up the stairs. “I’m right here bud, let’s go explore!” I tried, imitating Eddy. Rickton cheered up and slowly made his way down the stairs, holding the rail and going one at a time.
When he finally crossed the bottom step onto the landing with me, I took his hand in mine, and held the flashlight in the other, and we started heading down the stairs. The first few flights of stairs weren’t so bad, but after the third one, the flashlight was the only light we had.
“A MONSTER!” Rickton yelled, pointing. Resisting the urge to scream, I slowly, calmly pointed my flashlight at it, and turned to Rickton like Ed would. Grabbing my blanket off the back of the chair and raising an eyebrow, I said.
“Oh, calm down you baby,” Exactly as Ed had done dozens of times, holding the now dust covered blanket by a corner. A moment paused with Rickton still frozen, and then he laughed, and so did I. And then I realized it wasn’t so scary, and that he wasn’t such a bad brother.