THE DEAF BOY HEARD IT ALL (BOYXBOY)

WELL CREW (2)

SIX MONTHS LATER . . .

Over the last six months of therapy everything in my life seemed to have turned around. My survey was a success and my therapy was going smoothly. I cried the first time I heard Lyra call my name. Tears of joy flowed from my eyes and I couldn't stop for a good thirty minutes.

Begin able to hear my own voice and the voices of those around me was like a dream I never thought was going to come true. I only regretted that my parents were gone. That I couldn't remember now what my mother and father sounded like.

I was happy that I was able to help my family more now. Jude and Harlow refused to let me get a real job but I was allowed to work the front counter now. Normally Aunty Lisa did that but now it was my job.

When I explained to them the true reason I wanted a job was to pay them back they both gave me an ear full. We were family they told me and family don't need to be in debt to each other. Still I pressed the matter. That money could have gone towards Lyra but they were kind enough to use it on me. To save and work so that I could have this gift.

After a while, they both agreed if I insisted on paying them back I could work it off with my body. Cleaning the rooms was something I've always done so playing maid for the guest didn't bother me. I didn't mind working the counter either. The more I did the more helpful I could be.

The Bed and Breakfast has always been a big hit. Winter was the busiest season because our land had lots of hills for sledding. It was also isolated enough to give you a cozy winter wonderland cabin feeling.

Now that spring was in full bloom we got couples who enjoyed nature and came here on their honeymoons and adversaries. Of course, throughout the year we got a different kind of guest. The ones that believed in the wild rumors that our inn was haunted.

There was always people coming to try and catch ghosts or see the well. My dad always hated those sort of people. He believed they would anger the spirits in the house. He thought the well would hate it as well.

Can a well hate things? Can it harbor any kind of feelings at all?

Now that Jude was in charge of the social media he encouraged people to come here for the haunted fun. Jude had dug into the history of our home and land. According to him at least fifteen people- over the hundred and thirty-two years our house has stood- has died on our land.

The people who come here for the thrills always claim to have seen a ghost. I've lived here all my life but I've yet to see one. I wondered if you had to want to see a ghost in order for it to show itself to you. Did you have to believe in that sort of thing in order for it to work?

My father always said he saw shadows playing on the wall and heard whispers in the night. I never had those experiences. Harlow never admitted to having any either. Maybe the ghost just left me alone. Maybe they didn't want to bother with the poor broken boy who couldn't hear their wishes anyway. Maybe I've always been surrounded by them and just too dense to notice.

"Gunner," Jude called and I looked up from writing in the book that sent on the counter next to the computer and log book.

"Yes," I signed and spoke at the same time. It was hard to break out of the habit of signing everything I needed to say. Jude only smiled ruffling my hair. He had been family since a little before my accident. It was easy to blame Jude for what happened to me. He was the one that gave me the cursed ball after all.

I never blamed Jude though. I was the one that was careless and foolish. He had felt just as awful about my accident as the rest of my family. He had sat in classes and learned sign language with the rest of us as well.