Free The Ferryman by Christopher Golden Page A

thanked God for the weather. Between the sadness of Ralph Weiss’s funeral and the anxiety he felt over seeing Janine again, a rainy day might have just about done him in.
    He had removed his jacket and tie after they had left the cemetery. Now he unbuttoned and rolled up his sleeves. The air was full of the smell of growing things; David liked that. An old seventies song came on the radio. Just the opening chords of “Brandy” were enough to make him chuckle and turn up the volume. Softly, David began to sing along.
    Annette laughed and joined in.
    The brakes on the SAAB whined in protest as Annette slowed to turn into the driveway of the old house where Janine had an apartment. Oak and maple trees dotted the property, and in the back, beside the barn, wild lilac bushes were already beginning to bloom. There were only a couple of cars in the small parking area, but he spotted Janine’s familiar Toyota in the farthest spot. A wicked flash went through his mind. Oh, the things we did in that car. They’d been like teenagers.
    A twinge of guilt made him close his eyes a moment. There was a lot more to his feelings for Janine than such memories, though he cherished them. She needed him here as a friend, not her ex-boyfriend. David opened his eyes, cast a sidelong glance at Annette as she pulled the car into the nearest spot, and wondered if men really were the sex-obsessed pigs modern culture cast them as, or if women were just better at hiding it.
    â€œThe eagle has landed,” Annette said, mostly to herself.
    As they climbed out of the car, David looked around again at the house and the yard. There was a kind of electricity in the air. His surroundings were both familiar and yet surreal, the way he felt every time he drove past the places he had played as a boy, as though a wrinkle had formed in time.
    As that thought crossed his mind, a rare cloud passed across the sun and its light dimmed, casting the world around them in a pall of gray. David shuddered as though chilled. Something in motion caught his attention off to the right, and his gaze flicked toward the barn again. One of the enormous old doors was open and in its recesses he saw the MG convertible stored there by the retired doctor who owned the place.
    Beyond the car, though, that was where something had moved.
    A figure—a person—watched him from the shadows beyond the car. In that moment in which the sunlight was occluded, he caught the hint of a beard and thick, knitted eyebrows. But then the cloud passed and the rays of the sun made everything glow brilliantly once more. In the barn, the shadows deepened, and he could no longer see the man.
    Still, the chill he had felt in that moment without the sun remained.
    â€œWhat is it?” Annette asked.
    David started a bit, then turned. She stood on the top step, the door to the foyer open, and waited for an answer. He had been so distracted that he had not even heard her press the buzzer for Janine to let them in, though she must have.
    â€œNothing,” he replied as he shook off that chill. “Just saw someone in the barn. Probably Dr. Feehan, right? It’s mostly his stuff in there, I think.”
    â€œProbably. Though I don’t know that I’ve ever seen him,” Annette said as they stepped into the foyer and closed the door behind them. “Damn shame to leave that sweet little car gathering dust in there, though. Janine should get in his good graces; maybe he’ll will it to her.”
    â€œMaybe he’ll will it to you ?” David suggested.
    â€œIf God weren’t so grumpy, He’d be doing stuff like that for people all the time,” Annette replied, a wistful grin on her face.
    â€œGod’s grumpy?”
    â€œYou taken a look at the world lately?”
    â€œWow, good afternoon, Miss Pessimist,” David teased.
    Annette shot him the middle finger over her shoulder as she went up the stairs to the second floor. At the