by Alexie Aaron
Carl couldn’t help smiling. “I’ve waited to hear any of my daughter’s boyfriends summon up the nerve to ask me. I appreciate it. Sally makes her own decisions, but she did give me a heads-up. Jesse, take a hike,” Carl said and waved Cid over to a more secluded corner.
Jesse walked out and left Cid to follow Carl.
“She would kill me, but I need to warn you. Sally faced something horrible over there, when she was in the Army, that has left her scarred physically and mentally. The doctors call it PTSD. I have no idea how this will affect things. I just want you aware.”
“Lazar Popov is a good friend of mine and has PTSD. I know it’s different with each individual, but I’m aware of what I’m getting into,” Cid said.
“She doesn’t look it, but she’s mixed race,” Carl blurted out.
“Not a problem.”
“I didn’t think it was, but I don’t want her hurt, Cid.”
“I’m not going to hurt her intentionally. I’m no prize, Carl. I know that you all look at me and snicker. If we end up in a serious relationship, I will protect, provide, and support her dreams. If she doesn’t want me, then I’ll go away peacefully and lick my wounds.”
“I appreciate this talk, Cid. My mother will be pleased to hear that Sally has found someone like you.” Carl reached a hand out.
Cid shook it.
“Why was Jesse here?” Carl asked.
“He said he was going to be my second.”
“Did you think I was going to call you out?” Carl asked.
“I didn’t, but Jesse has his own fantasy world that he lives in.”
Carl laughed.
Cid left him and walked up the stairs. He didn’t see Sally in the common room, so he stopped at the kitchen door and knocked before walking in.
Sally looked up from the pot she was stirring and smiled.
“I know we got back kind of late. Can I help you with getting supper together?” Cid asked.
“How are you at making biscuits?”
“Mia taught me a few shortcuts.”
“Then have at it,” Sally said. “I appreciate the help.”
Jesse, who had been shadowing Cid, walked away and headed back to the trailer. He breathed in the crisp cold air as he walked. He looked over at Walnut Grove House and shook his head. The owner was pumping a lot of money into a place that Jesse doubted the man would ever use. The setting sun momentarily lit up the insides of the house. Jesse saw shadows moving. He hoped that Kiki’s team had called it a day.
Faye was waiting for him when he got inside. “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“What happened?”
“I take it we’re talking about Cid and Sally.”
“Of course. I tried to hang around, but I was too nervous,” Faye admitted.
“Houston, we have lift off,” Jesse said. He realized his mistake when Faye gave him a blank look. “What I mean by that is, they have been launched as a couple.”
“Good. I had a good feeling about the two of them,” Faye said. “Now all I have to do is find you a deaf and blind wife and my work on Earth will be finished.”
“Deaf and blind but not dumb?” Jesse questioned.
“I’m going to find a nagger,” Faye teased. “The deafness and blindness is for her protection not yours.”
“You’re a horrible dead person, Faye. After all I’ve done for you,” Jesse pouted.
Faye grinned and disappeared.
Chapter Six
“I’m worried about finding tiles to replace the three cracked green tiles in the small study,” Pete said. “They are hand-dipped Edwardian. The closest I’m going to be able to find on this side of the Atlantic are coming from Mexico. It’s not that they aren’t good tiles but there is a slight difference in color. I could have them made, but it would take months before we’d receive them.”
“At lunch Carl mentioned that there were piles of tiles and cornice pieces in the southwest corner of the basement. I think if the builders went to the trouble of bringing over the fireplace surrounds from Europe, they may have also made sure there were a few spare parts,” Gary reasoned. He looked at his watch. “It’s just after five. Let’s head down there.”
They turned on the flashlights Cid had insisted they carry in their tool belts as they descended the large stone steps.
“Careful of the last step. The riser is off,” Pete reminded Gary.
“This would never pass code elsewhere,” Gary said. “I guess it pays to own the town, the country, and the officials therein.”
“Now, now, you promised me you weren’t going to get political,” Pete said. “If we are going to work together, we’re going to have to put all but our football team preferences aside.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Gary said and patted his friend on the back. “What can we talk about? The weather?”
“How about Cid and Sally?” Pete asked.
“What about Cid and Sally?” Gary asked.
“Don’t you think they’d make a good couple?” Pete asked, turning on the lights as they passed them.
“Cid’s gay,” Gary said.
“He’s not,” Pete insisted. “He just likes to cook. Quite a few of the great chefs are male.”
“He’s very well-groomed.”
“Most guys believe in using a comb, Gary. It wouldn’t hurt you to dig that crusted grout out from under your nails from time to time,” Pete observed.
“Okay, if we say Cid’s not gay, then Sally could be?” Gary said. “Afterall, she’s been in the Army.”
Pete sighed. “Gary, no offense, but you’re an idiot.”
They had reached the southwest corner. “Eureka! I see tiles now…” Pete’s voice drifted off as he gently lifted the dust-laden tiles up and rubbed the dust off with a rag. “Shine that light over here,” Pete requested.
Gary did so.
“Not in my eyes! What the fuck made you do that?” Pete asked, fighting the blue dots. “Are these green or blue?” he asked, holding his prize out.
“Blue, but the ones over there are green,” Gary said leaning over. He crouched down and picked up a stack and handed them to Pete.
“They may be a match,” Pete said. How many are there?”
Gary crouched down, exposing his lower back as he did. “Stop it.”
“Pardon?”
“Stop putting your cold hand on my back.”
“Not me. My hands are full of tiles, and all I can see are blue dots.”
“Faye, I’m sorry,” Gary said standing up, pulling up his pants. “She doesn’t like butt cracks.”
Pete slid the green tiles in the pockets of his coat and gently put a hand on Gary’s arm. “It’s time we went upstairs. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
Pete looked around, and just beyond the cone of light, there was movement. He moved the light and there were shadows of men everywhere. “How far are the stairs?”
“Fifty feet,” Gary estimated.
“We’re not going to make it. Time to salt in and call for reinforcements,” Pete said, pulling out the supply Cid insisted he take. Gary and he had just enough salt between them to salt the two of them in. Pete pulled out his phone and shook his head. “No bars. Did you bring the walkie-talkie?”
“Yes, but I left it upstairs,” Gary said. “What do we do?”
“Hold tight. Kiki said she was locking this place up at six. We start screaming at six.”
Kiki checked her whiteboard before walking into the kitchen. “Anybody see Holy Shit or What the Fuck?”
Cid, who was piling the hot biscuits in baskets, shook his head. “Not since lunchtime. Why?”
“They haven’t filled out the chart. I warned them. No shoddy paperwork on this job.”
“Maybe they are still over there,” Cid said looking at his watch.
Kiki picked up her phone and called. “Pete’s job is on the west side, so there should be reception. Nope, it w
ent right to voicemail.” Kiki walked out and called, “Walrus, call Gary on the radio!”
Jesse walked in, took in the concerned faces, and asked, “What’s up?”
“Gary and Pete are AWOL,” Cid said.
“Both of their trucks are here. And I’ve just come from the workshop. Carl’s the only one down there,” Jesse told them.
“No answer on the radio,” Wayne reported.
“It’s almost six. Let’s go and see if they lost track of time,” Cid said grabbing his coat. He stopped and walked over and opened up the cupboard and drew out two kosher boxes of salt.
Sally looked at the cupboard in amazement. “What’s all this salt for?”
“Ghosts,” Kiki said. “Most ghosts can’t cross a salt line. Didn’t Carl explain ghost deterrents to you?”
“Must have slipped his mind. He just told me to stay out of the house.”
“I’ll have Cid give you the particulars when he comes back,” Kiki said, staring out the window. She could see Cid and Jesse run over to the house. The parking lot lights were on, and Kiki could just make out what Jesse was carrying. It was a small thin iron pipe.
“Faye!” Cid called out just before they entered the house.
Faye appeared wearing lounging clothes. “What’s up?”
“Gary and Pete haven’t checked in yet. They were supposed to be on the second floor checking out the fireplace tiles,” Cid said.
Faye disappeared, and before Jesse had unzipped his jacket, she reappeared shaking her head. They aren’t on the top two floors. I fear they are in the basement. I won’t go down there at this time at night. It’s not safe,” she said and left.
“Well, I guess it’s us. Let’s assume that it’s a hostile situation,” Cid said, heading for the basement stairway.
Cid opened the basement door at six on the dot. The men’s screams filled the air.
“HELP! WE’RE IN THE BASEMENT!”
Cid covered his ears and frowned.
Jesse banged his pipe against the wall. “WE HEAR YOU!”
“We’re in the southwest corner fifty feet from the stairs! We salted ourselves in!” Gary called out.
“Were you attacked?” Cid asked, descending the stairs.
“Someone put a cold hand on my butt,” Gary said.
“I beg your pardon?” Cid asked.
“I was bent over and…”
“You’re sure it wasn’t Pete getting friendly?” Jesse asked.
“You should talk, living with Cid!” Gary spat.
“Cid always warms his hands first,” Jesse joked.
“You’re not helping,” Cid said, feeling a headache coming on. “There’s something going on down here. I can hear a lot of movement, and it’s not mice. Let’s pour a parallel line to them, making a safe passageway as we go.”
Cid turned and poured a line behind them to start. “One, two, let’s go!”
Gary kept his light trained on where he thought the stairway was. He almost crapped himself when Cid and Jessed burst into the light.
Faye pulled her nerves together but had only made it as far as the kitchen. Jon, no haitch, O’Connor waved her over and pointed to the door. “If I were you, I’d block this door open. They seem like nice men; I’d hate to clutter up the basement with any more nice men.”
Faye jammed a table against the open door. She sat on it. “Thank you.”
“I’ll be leaving you now,” Jon said, giving Faye a polite little bow before disappearing from the space he had been occupying.
Cid put Gary and Pete between he and Jesse as they made their way back. Two alarming things occurred to Cid as they approached the stairs. One: they forgot to protect the stairway with salt. And two: there was a strong draft behind him. He turned to see what could only be described as a small black cyclone. It kicked up enough wind to move the salt.
“We don’t have much time,” Cid said. “The black wind is pushing the salt.”
“You have to slow it down. I’ve got a problem up ahead,” Jesse said, looking up where four big bruisers, from a bygone age with fists drawn, stood on the stairs.
Cid tossed a few iron nails into the mass. It fell apart but not before opening the end of the salt passageway. Cid saw a ghost holding a very real chisel run towards him.
“DUCK!” Jesse shouted, pushing Gary and Pete aside with one arm.
Cid hit the floor just in time to hear something buzz over his head and imbed in the ghost briefly before it dropped to the floor with a ping. The ghost dropped the chisel as he dissipated. Cid didn’t know why he did it, but he picked up the tool and stuck it in his tool belt. He also pocketed the small iron ball that may have saved his life.
The bruisers on the stairs saw their brother-in-death fall and stepped aside and let the four contractors climb the stairs.
A large ghost shook the table Faye sat on. She appeared wearing a Carmelite nun’s habit and smacked the goon’s knuckles with a ruler. This quickly put a stop to the bruiser moving the table away from the swing of the door. “Get away from the door or I’ll feed your bones to the hounds of Hell.”
The man shrank back.
“Maybe I’ll just call a hellhound now…”
The ghost didn’t seem to understand what she said but didn’t like being confronted by an angry nun and disappeared.
Jesse slid by the table. “Sister,” he said, crossing himself.
Gary and Pete just looked at Faye with rounded eyes. Cid gave Faye a wink. She jumped down, and Cid moved the table, slammed the door, and poured a thick measure of salt down.
“We all better get out of here while we can. Something has them powered up.”
“Wayne and Carl had the big construction lights on,” Faye tattled.
“That would do it,” Cid said. “I think, after supper, I’m going to give everyone a refresher on how ghosts draw power.”
“Do you think they wanted to kill us?” Pete asked. He drew out the small stack of tiles from his pocket.
“I’m sorry, I really don’t know at this point. What do you have there?” Cid asked Pete.
“Replacement tiles for the study. The surround has three cracked tiles. These are worth a mint on eBay. They’re Edwardian.”
“I suggest storing them in the workshop. If you leave them here, the ghosts may take them to draw you back downstairs,” Cid figured.
“I’m beginning to think that this job isn’t worth it,” Gary said.
“Did you sign a contract?” Jesse asked.
“Yes.”
“Think long and hard before cutting and running,” Jesse advised. “In the meanwhile, we work only until sundown and never alone.”
Cid hung back to turn off a few lights as they left. Jesse waited for him at the front door.
Cid dug in his pocket and handed Jesse the small iron ball. “How did you launch this? Slingshot?”
“Nope, peashooter,” Jesse said, handing Cid the small iron pipe.
“You’re amazing.”
“I know,” Jesse said. “I’m a shit aim with guns, slingshots, and bows, but I can spit very accurately.”
“You have infinite potential,” Cid said, handing Jesse back the pipe.
Kiki met them at the door. “How bad was it really?”
“Bad. Did you talk to any of the previous contractors?” Cid asked.
“They wouldn’t answer my calls,” Kiki said.
“Do you have a copy of the contract?” Cid asked.
“Doesn’t matter, I signed it,” Kiki said. “Alan says there is only one loophole.”
“And that is?”
“Death of a contractor. And I have to prove it wasn’t accidental.”
“I’d like to look at it regarding leaving the ghosts be.”
“I told you, Clark, no messing with the ghosts!” Kiki growled.
“Kiki, if you want to finish that house, then we have to contain them. Right now, they’re all worked up and
looking for blood.”
Kiki didn’t say a word.
“And if you’re waiting for one of us to die first, then I will make sure your remaining days on Earth are Hell. And, Kiki, I know what I’m talking about,” Cid warned.
Faye wasn’t sure that Kiki deserved Cid’s vitriol, but she agreed with him. The ghosts needed to be controlled. She feared that most of them had gone past the point of no return. When a ghost is trapped inside a structure for too long, they go crazy. This she learned from Stephen Murphy. His friend Mia had seen it happen and promised she’d never let it happen to Stephen. That meant ending his existence. Faye wasn’t sure how this could happen, with the exception of the burning of one’s bones. Her bones were safe under several feet of water in the bottom of a well. When she told Stephen that, he looked at her slyly and said, “There is more than one way of ending a ghost’s existence. Those ways don’t bring on the light. Make sure you abide by the rules if you’re going to continue to exist on the plane of human existence.”
An anxious Sally stared at the table of men from the doorway of the kitchen. No one was eating. Did she in her haste to put a hearty meal on the table create something uneatable?
Kiki got up and tapped her spoon against the whiteboard. She waited until she had everyone’s eyes on her, and she said, “I’m sorry. You can’t work under these conditions. I thought that the rumors of this house were hyperbolic. Now I find they were underexaggerated. I can’t legally bring in a team like PEEPs to help, but I believe we can sort this out for ourselves. We can hypothetically gather information from reputable sources and put together a plan to contain the ghosts.”
“I think we’re dealing with a heritage demon,” Cid said. “However, I don’t think the demon is on the premises.”
“What’s a heritage demon?” Wayne asked. “Is it like a house demon?”
“A house demon attaches itself to a house. As long as the house is cared for the way the demon likes it, it won’t interact with the humans who live within its protective walls,” Cid said. “According to PEEPs’ research, there aren’t many heritage demons. There are just about a hundred of them on this planet. Most are tied into Hell, and the souls they collect are sent there. They are higher demons and very powerful. I’m not exactly sure how the contract is made between the human and the demon, but a deal with a heritage demon is for long life and power. They get the demon to do their bidding in exchange for the souls of everyone in the dealmaker’s family, no matter how many generations. Souls are a big commodity in Hell.”