Chapter 15
BING WATCHEDas Walter changed out of his costume and used Wet Wipes to clean off his face. Sometime in the past two months, the man’s body had become firm with muscle without losing the softness of inherent kindness. Instead of being muscle-bound, Walter was simply muscular. He moved with ease, and he smiled often, and every part of Bing wanted the man Walter had become.
Of course, that was assuming Monkey was far, far away.
“Where do we start?” Walter asked when they finally stepped out of his tent.
That was one of the things he most admired about Walter. Despite his insecurities, his asthma and anxiety, he never failed to pull himself together and get the job done. Bing always grew dark and intense as the pressure mounted. Walter would look like he was falling apart, but somehow he always managed to work.
Here he was, doing it again.
“It’s not so cold out here,” Walter said as he stripped out of his jacket. “Maybe spring is coming to Wisconsin.” He smiled as he spoke, and his brow quirked in that half-funny expression he had. It said,I don’t really think so, but we’ll pretend we’re about to get a heat wave.Then he squared his shoulders and soldiered on. Maybe the spring in his step came from Monkey, but the determination to keep going was all Walter.
“Keep your jacket,” Bing said. “We might be out late.”
Walter grimaced. “Of course we will be. Because what else would I be doing before a 5:00 a.m. call?” He grinned as he said it, then gestured to Bing. “What about you?”
He smiled and let his expression turn lascivious. “If it gets really bad, I’ll go furry and wrap myself around you.”
Walter blinked. Then, with a grin, he tossed his jacket back into the tent. When he came outside, he winked at Bing and said, “So where do we start?”
Bing wanted to sayback in your tent, but that would be irresponsible. He looked around at the dark forest and shrugged. “What’s your best guess?”
“My guess?” Walter asked as he stared out at the woods. “You’re the paranormal expert. You must have some idea.”
“She was your aunt,” Bing retorted. “You must know where she’d go.”
Walter shrugged. “I knew in LA. In Wisconsin I never paid any attention. She always came to me.”
That wasn’t surprising. As screenwriter, producer, and lead actor, Walter probably hadn’t had time to breathe, much less follow up on his aunt’s activities. “Should we start at her trailer?” Bing suggested.
“Why? It’s dark, so she’s not in there.” Walter gestured to where the large thing sat to the side of the parking area. “Where would she go to look for a demon?”
“There are no rules to demons,” Bing answered as he started walking in the general direction of the woods. “They are as varied as the human imagination can make them.”
“I get it. We’re looking for details about the demon she’s hunting.” He nodded. “Smart.”
The only thing smart about it was that Walter had thought of it. Bing hadn’t even realized that the trailer was empty until Walter had pointed it out. He was going to be a hell of a lot of help, at this rate. “I have no idea what to do, Walter. I’m terrible at anything that isn’t done in front of a camera.” It cut him to admit that out loud. He’d been raised never to admit his weaknesses to anyone.
But Walter wasn’t anyone, and he didn’t want to mislead him.
“Acting’s hard.” Walter sighed. “I never realized how hard.”
“And yet you’re doing it anyway.”
“Not as well as you.”
“That’s because you’re doing you.” Though Bing hated to admit it, Walter was doing a credible job at being a leading man. He was a way better actor than Bing was a writer.
“Whatever,” Walter said with a shrug, though Bing could see the pleased curve to his lips as he hauled open the trailer door. “Catch me up on the paranormal. What makes a demon a demon?”
“We do. Human imagination,” Bing answered as they climbed inside. Plastic flowers and spoiled fruit still lay scattered about. It looked as if no one had been in here since the Monkey energy had jumped into Walter from a banana.
“Come again?”
“Human imagination is how all the paranormal is formed. If enough people believe, then our energies make it happen. At least, that’s what I was told.”
“And you didn’t question it?” Walter squeezed has hands tight as he scrunched up his face. “I believe in fairies! I believe in fairies! And wham, suddenly Tinker Bell lives?”
