The Clear-Out Read Online Free

jar of instant coffee out of the cupboard.
    The chalkboard was back on the wall.
    In the same spot.
    With the same words.
    In the same handwriting.
    What happens?
    And that’s when Duncan got really scared.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    Duncan was almost afraid to get close to the chalkboard, but he had to get it out of the house.
    With a pounding heart and a dry mouth, he took the chalkboard down from the wall—again. Scooping up his keys, he put the chalkboard in the passenger seat of his car. He got in behind the wheel and started driving.
    The Good Shepherd Thrift Store was not open yet. Duncan didn’t care. He sat in his car in his pajamas, his feet still bare, staring at the chalkboard.
    As soon as he spotted Kevin coming around the corner in his wheelchair, Duncan jumped out of the car. He had the chalkboard in his hand.
    “Get rid of this,” he ordered.
    Kevin looked him up and down.
    “What happened to you?” he asked.
    “I need you to get rid of this for me.”
    “It says, ‘What happens?’ ” Kevin said.
    “I know what it says. I need you to get rid of it.”
    Kevin took the shop keys out of his shirt pocket. “Let’s go inside. I think we could both use some coffee.” He locked the door behind them so they would not be bothered by customers.
    Kevin had the same brand of instant coffee in the back of the shop that Duncan had at home. The two men waited for the water to boil. Duncan sat down on a box. Kevin held out his hand for the chalkboard.
    “By ‘get rid of it,’ I take it that you don’t want me to just sell it in the shop.”
    “I need it gone.”
    Kevin handed Duncan a cup of coffee. “What’s going on?”
    Duncan leaned up against a stack of boxes. “When you lost your . . . husband . . . did you . . . did anything strange happen?”
    “Strange? What do you mean by strange?”
    “Do I have to spell it out?”
    “Yes! You have to spell it out. I can’t guess what’s in your head. You are standing here in your PJs and bare feet. I don’t think you are crazy, but I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me. Why do you need me to get rid of this chalkboard?”
    “Because it’s haunted!” Duncan yelled. “It’s haunted by my dead wife! She’s in the whole house, opening doors, playing with the cat, messing up the shoes. I can’t get rid of my whole house. But I can at least get rid of this chalkboard and this horrible message.”
    Kevin raised his hand and wiped the words off the board.
    “Oh, very good,” Duncan said. “I never would have thought of that. I’m cold,” he suddenly realized.
    “There are clean clothes on that rack over there,” Kevin said. “Help yourself.”
    Duncan wrapped himself in a grey robe and sat down on his box again.
    “My minister says it takes time, that all I’m experiencing is part of grief. I can accept that. That makes sense. But this does not make sense. I wipe out the message and it appears again. I throw away the board and it’s back again in the morning. Maybe I am just sleepwalking. I don’t have any friends I can ask. I’m nearly seventy years old, and I have no friends I can have a serious conversation with. Youare the only one who can give me real answers. Did this happen to you when your husband died?”
    Kevin took a sip of coffee. Then he put the cup down and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.
    “Not right away,” he said. “I was in the hospital for a while. Then I had to have help at home while I learned how to live in a wheelchair. But at last all the home-care workers and friends and family went back to their own lives. I was alone. That’s when the strange things started.”
    Kevin rubbed his hands together.
    “I thought I was over Dan’s death,” he said. “I was managing okay. Life was different, but I was doing all right. And then things started happening. I’d smell Dan’s aftershave. The knives, forks, and spoons would get messed up in the cutlery drawer. I like everything in its place. Dan