Free B007Q4JDEM EBOK by K.A. Poe

mean?”
    I cringed at the word. “Yes, those.”
    “Okay. Do you want me to drop by your place?”
    “No!” I spoke too harshly; hopefully I hadn't arisen any suspicion about Salem being here. “I'll come to you. I’ve been cooped up in this place by myself for way too long.”
    “You know, you are more than welcome to stay with me if you ever need to or want to,” h e sounded a little too eager.
    “Thanks, I'll think about it. Where can I meet you at?” I scrawled the address down hastily and hung up. Salem watched me from the edge of my bed, anticipating what Paul and I discussed.
    “I'm driving over there after breakfast, do you want anything?” I about slapped myself on the forehead. “Never mind...”
    Salem laughed. “I'll find something to satisfy my hunger while you are away.”
    I wasn't sure how to respond, still uncomfortable with the idea of how he fed himself. I shuddered at the thought and clambered down the stairs. I grabbed two slices of bread, popped them in the toaster and waited impatiently, and hungrily, while they cooked. Moments later, the bread jumped out of the appliance. I smeared some jam across both slices before sitting down at the dining table and eating them quickly. Salem sat across from me, watching intently. It made me feel self-conscious.
    “I'll be back before long, hopefully, ” I said after I finished eating, grabbed my car keys and ran outside.
     
    I followed the directions Paul had given me. They led me into a quaint trailer park nestled between a park and an elementary school. I imagined it got quite noisy around here. I scanned through the lot, looking for trailer 16. I found it toward the very end. The trailer looked okay from the outside – peach paneled walls, four worn steps leading up to a tiny porch. The door was flimsy, I was almost afraid that knocking on it would cause it to fall over, but I rapped my fist against it anyway.
    Paul opened the door slowly, and then pulled it open complete ly. “Welcome to my humble abode,” h e said sarcastically.
    “It's not so bad, ” I said. The entrance was cramped; to the immediate left was the living room, which could scarcely hold more than a ragged brown loveseat, a TV stand and a small TV. To the right was a square dining table pressed up into the corner with only two chairs. The kitchen contained two counters, a small fridge and a microwave. I felt bad for him as I scanned the place.
    “Do you want to sit down?” h e asked, distracting me.
    “Oh, sure,” I agreed and sat on the loveseat. It was surprisingly comfortable, despite the fact that I sank into the cushion.
    “How are you?” h e said, making an attempt at small talk.
    “I'm all right...how have you been?”
    “Not bad,” h e smiled. “Work has been tiring, but I do enjoy it.”
    “Work as in as a mechanic, or...other work?” I didn't look at him as I spoke.
    “Mechanic. I haven't had much 'other work' in a few months.”
    “That's good, ” I sighed, feeling uncomfortable. “I wanted to ask you something...”
    “What is it?” h e sat down beside me, offering me a soda.
    I popped the can open, flashing him a smile in thanks before I took a sip. It was warm, but I drank it anyway. “I had a weird dream last night, and I was wondering if you could help me figure it out .” I wracked my brain trying to figure out how I was supposed to ask Paul about this without mentioning Salem.
    “ Well I ain’t much of a psychiatrist or anything,” he chuckled, “but I’ll do my best.”
    I described the dream exactly as it had happened, without naming names. Paul just stared at me intently as each word escaped my mouth. “Do you have any idea what it means?”
    “Not exactly, no.”
    “Someone told me that your – our last name,” I corrected myself, “means ‘raven’ . Is there any meaning behind that?”
    His eyes scrutinized me carefully, “Who told you that ?”
    “That's not important.”
    “It better not be who I think it is,” h