Love, Like Ghosts: A Bay City Paranormal Investigations Story

Adrian pulled him close and kissed him. “You look absolutely gorgeous in a suit. Just so you know.”
The stern look melted from Greg’s face. “Thanks. So do you. But then again, you look gorgeous in everything. Or nothing.” He bit Adrian’s chin, eyes sparkling. “Come on, we’re gonna be late.”
They weren’t, but Adrian let Greg hustle him along anyway. It was probably a good idea. Every time they got too involved in kissing, or touching, or sometimes even just staring at each other, Adrian’s psychokinesis reacted in ways that couldn’t be ignored. Mr. Mojo rising , as Greg would say, usually right before he tackled Adrian and tore his clothes off.
As much as Adrian loved those episodes, he didn’t think anyone else at the memorial service would appreciate watching.
He and Greg threaded their way through the press of people standing in groups on the pathway and in between the graves. A few minutes later, they reached the steps of the gazebo, where the chancellor and selected others stood.
Chancellor Wild gave them a wide smile. “Mr. Broussard. Mr. Woodhall. I’m so happy you could both make it.” She held out a ring-covered hand to Adrian. “Thank you for coming.”
“Thank you for letting us stand up here with you, ma’am.” Adrian fought not to hunch his shoulders as he shook her hand. He felt horribly self-conscious with everyone watching him like he’d done something special. “Please, ma’am, just call me Adrian.”
“And I’m Greg. Mr. Woodhall’s my dad.” Flashing the smile that never failed to charm everyone around him, Greg took the chancellor’s hand and shook. “Adrian and I are just happy Lyndon Groome is being honored.”
“So am I, Greg.” She retrieved her hand and surveyed the crowd. “Well. I think it’s about time to begin.” With a nod and a smile for Greg and Adrian, she walked up the steps into the gazebo, where a man with a long ponytail and battered Bible stood waiting. She faced the crowd, and the conversation drifted into silence. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are here today to honor the memory of a young man who died far too soon…”
Ally Blue
    Later, after the ceremony ended and the crowd dispersed, Adrian and Greg wandered off to the corner where Lyndon was buried and sat with their backs against the spreading oak that shaded the grave. Greg stripped off his shoes and socks so he could dig his bare toes into the cool grass. Adrian wound his arm around Greg, and Greg rested his head on Adrian’s shoulder. Overhead, a bird warbled somewhere among the rustling greenery.
    Adrian let out a happy sigh. This was such a lovely, peaceful spot. He thought Lyndon would’ve liked it.
“It was a nice ceremony,” Greg murmured, snuggling closer. He slipped an arm around Adrian’s waist. “I liked that poem the chaplain read.”
“‘Black Marigolds’.”
“Hm?”
“That’s the poem. ‘Black Marigolds’, by E. Powys Mathers. He only read the last verse, though. The whole thing’s a lot longer.”
“Oh.” Greg stirred in Adrian’s embrace. “Well, it was nice. I thought it fit.”
Adrian’s throat constricted. He’d gone to the chaplain in confidence before the ceremony, hoping to give him a sense of Lyndon as a person so he’d have more than dry historical narratives to work with when writing his memorial. It had worked better than Adrian had dared hope.
Closing his eyes, he repeated the words of the poem in his head.
Even now,
I know that I have savored the hot taste of life,
Lifting green cups and gold at the great feast.
And just for a small and a forgotten time
I have had full in my eyes from off my girl
The whitest pouring of eternal light.
It did fit, in spite of the female reference. Even though Lyndon and Cassius had been forced to hide what they felt for one another, they hadn’t let disapproval or even very real danger keep them apart. And in the end, Lyndon had paid the ultimate price.
We’re lucky, Greg and I. Adrian raked his fingers through Greg’s hair, kissed his forehead, cupped his cheek in one hand. I hope we never lose sight of how lucky we are.
A warmth Adrian had felt many times before caressed his mind. Startled, he glanced around. Only a few feet away, in the dappled shade over the new grave, hovered two translucent figures. One was tall and wide-shouldered, with dark hair and sparkling blue eyes. The other had short, sleek blond hair and gray eyes so familiar it made Adrian’s chest ache. The only thing