Read Online Flowers in a Dumpster by Mark Allan Gunnells - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Mark Allan Gunnells
Tags: General Fiction
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out with ecstasy and pain.
From his own private hell, Jason watched a heaven of which he would never be part.
THE BONADVENTURE
“Cane, are you sure this is a good idea?” Kinsley asked, gripping the flashlight to her chest so that the light hit the underside of her chin and spread around her face.
Cane knelt by a large angel monument, unpacking equipment from his duffle bag and lining it up on the ground next to him. “It’s a great idea. This investigation is going to put S.C.A.D.P.I.T. on the map.”
“Dude, are you still going with that name?” Topher asked, stepping onto the monument’s base and scrutinizing the angel up close.
“The Savannah College of Art and Design Paranormal Investigation Team. What’s wrong with that name?”
“Well, other than the fact that Scad Pit sounds like a condition you’d need penicillin for, the acronym is almost as long as the name itself.”
“I’m the founder of this group, so I get to name it.”
Topher hopped down from the monument. “I still vote for the Artistic Spirit Squad.”
“A.S.S.?” Kinsley said with a giggle. “You’re joking, right?”
“I think it has a certain appeal to it.”
“You would think that,” Cane said under his breath.
“What’s that? It wasn’t a homophobic slur from our fearless leader, was it?”
Cane rose to his feet. Topher was at least three inches shorter, slighter of build, but he seemed not a bit intimidated by Cane, which actually irritated Cane more than he wanted to admit. “Look, I don’t care who you have sex with. You can screw chipmunks in your spare time for all I care, but I would appreciate it if you two would stop being so loud. We are trying to fly under the radar here.”
“Gotcha,” Topher said in a stage whisper, reaching up to run his fingers across his lips as if zipping them shut.
Cane rolled his eyes then reached down to pick up the EMF reader. He held it out to Topher. “Here, you’re going to measure the electromagnetic fields tonight.”
“No way, I always do the EVPs.”
“Not this time. Kinsley’s going to have the voice recorder and ask the questions tonight.”
“How come?”
“How about because last month at 432 Abercorn you asked the ghost of the little girl if she’d ever seen Dreamgirls ?”
Topher laughed and stroked his goatee. “Yeah, that was a good one.”
“See, you don’t take this seriously at all.”
“Come on, dude. You think the dead don’t have a sense of humor just because you don’t?”
Cane said nothing, just stared at Topher until the other young man relented and took the device. Next he handed the voice recorder to Kinsley.
“I still don’t know if we should be doing this. We had permission to be in all the other places we investigated. You know no one’s supposed to be in the cemetery after 5 p.m. unless they’re part of an official tour.”
Topher sidled up next to Kinsley and threw an arm around her shoulders. “If I didn’t go where I wasn’t supposed to go, I’d miss out on an awful lot of fun.”
“This isn’t exactly the same as sneaking into some underground club,” Cane said. “We’re doing an exhaustive and in-depth paranormal investigation of one of the most famous cemeteries in America. This is going to—”
“—put us on the map,” Topher and Kinsley finished in unison.
“Mock all you want, but I think it’s a shame that Savannah has the reputation as the most haunted city in the country and yet S.C.A.D. doesn’t have a single sanctioned paranormal organization. And they won’t approve any new groups or clubs without a minimum of five members. Look around and do the math; you’ll see we’re short.”
“And you really think this will help?” Kinsley asked.
“Hell yes. Once word gets out that we did an all-night investigation of Bonaventure Cemetery, people are going to be lining up, begging to get in.”
“Just like some underground club,” Topher said with a snarky grin.
Ignoring him, Cane
From his own private hell, Jason watched a heaven of which he would never be part.
THE BONADVENTURE
“Cane, are you sure this is a good idea?” Kinsley asked, gripping the flashlight to her chest so that the light hit the underside of her chin and spread around her face.
Cane knelt by a large angel monument, unpacking equipment from his duffle bag and lining it up on the ground next to him. “It’s a great idea. This investigation is going to put S.C.A.D.P.I.T. on the map.”
“Dude, are you still going with that name?” Topher asked, stepping onto the monument’s base and scrutinizing the angel up close.
“The Savannah College of Art and Design Paranormal Investigation Team. What’s wrong with that name?”
“Well, other than the fact that Scad Pit sounds like a condition you’d need penicillin for, the acronym is almost as long as the name itself.”
“I’m the founder of this group, so I get to name it.”
Topher hopped down from the monument. “I still vote for the Artistic Spirit Squad.”
“A.S.S.?” Kinsley said with a giggle. “You’re joking, right?”
“I think it has a certain appeal to it.”
“You would think that,” Cane said under his breath.
“What’s that? It wasn’t a homophobic slur from our fearless leader, was it?”
Cane rose to his feet. Topher was at least three inches shorter, slighter of build, but he seemed not a bit intimidated by Cane, which actually irritated Cane more than he wanted to admit. “Look, I don’t care who you have sex with. You can screw chipmunks in your spare time for all I care, but I would appreciate it if you two would stop being so loud. We are trying to fly under the radar here.”
“Gotcha,” Topher said in a stage whisper, reaching up to run his fingers across his lips as if zipping them shut.
Cane rolled his eyes then reached down to pick up the EMF reader. He held it out to Topher. “Here, you’re going to measure the electromagnetic fields tonight.”
“No way, I always do the EVPs.”
“Not this time. Kinsley’s going to have the voice recorder and ask the questions tonight.”
“How come?”
“How about because last month at 432 Abercorn you asked the ghost of the little girl if she’d ever seen Dreamgirls ?”
Topher laughed and stroked his goatee. “Yeah, that was a good one.”
“See, you don’t take this seriously at all.”
“Come on, dude. You think the dead don’t have a sense of humor just because you don’t?”
Cane said nothing, just stared at Topher until the other young man relented and took the device. Next he handed the voice recorder to Kinsley.
“I still don’t know if we should be doing this. We had permission to be in all the other places we investigated. You know no one’s supposed to be in the cemetery after 5 p.m. unless they’re part of an official tour.”
Topher sidled up next to Kinsley and threw an arm around her shoulders. “If I didn’t go where I wasn’t supposed to go, I’d miss out on an awful lot of fun.”
“This isn’t exactly the same as sneaking into some underground club,” Cane said. “We’re doing an exhaustive and in-depth paranormal investigation of one of the most famous cemeteries in America. This is going to—”
“—put us on the map,” Topher and Kinsley finished in unison.
“Mock all you want, but I think it’s a shame that Savannah has the reputation as the most haunted city in the country and yet S.C.A.D. doesn’t have a single sanctioned paranormal organization. And they won’t approve any new groups or clubs without a minimum of five members. Look around and do the math; you’ll see we’re short.”
“And you really think this will help?” Kinsley asked.
“Hell yes. Once word gets out that we did an all-night investigation of Bonaventure Cemetery, people are going to be lining up, begging to get in.”
“Just like some underground club,” Topher said with a snarky grin.
Ignoring him, Cane
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