by Alexie Aaron
“Is there a demon involved? He would look…”
“Jesus, Mary, Joseph, I know what a demon looks like,” Jon spat. “The demon’s not your worry, the gombeen is. He doesn’t grow old.”
“We think we know how you’re trapped. We just need to figure out how to release the sane and contain the insane.”
“There’s that,” Jon said. “I believe you’ll find something of mine in the north box you were messing with in the attic. I’d appreciate it back.” Jon unbuttoned his shirt and showed the gaping hole in his chest. When I have my heart, then I can rest.”
“What’s in the other boxes?”
“More horror. Tread lightly upon the stairs. Do not let the gombeen know you know of his affairs,” Jon said and faded away.
A deep growl and the heavy pounding of hands on the basement door convinced Cid and Jesse it was time to leave.
~
Carl flipped on the light as he strode into the workshop. He found Kiki sitting at one of the workbenches, running a knife along a whetstone. She turned around quickly, and Carl could have sworn the woman’s eyes shown red.
“Have you been crying?” he asked, approaching her slowly.
It took a minute before the look of confusion left Kiki’s face. “No. Why?”
“Your eyes look funny.”
Kiki shrugged. “I’m surprised to see you back already.”
“The ghosts sucked the batteries dry.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
Wayne walked in and put the battery on the charger.
“I stand corrected,” Kiki said. “How far did you guys get?”
“The new drain is connected,” Wayne said. “I’ll be able to start on those bathrooms tomorrow.”
“I have the existing electrical transferred,” Carl announced. “Tomorrow, I’ll have to go room to room to check the outlets. Those GSBs can be a bitch to set up.”
“I told you we don’t have to worry about code.”
“It’s safer,” Carl reminded Kiki.
Kiki was going to argue with Carl, but Pete and Gary arrived. “Where’s the cowboys?” she asked.
“Locking up. We’re going to do work in the shop until quitting time,” Pete said, walking over and dumping his gear on the bench. He looked down at the knife in her hand and asked, “Doing some whittling?”
“No. I just don’t like having a dull blade,” Kiki said.
Cid and Jesse walked in. They ignored Kiki and started pulling out trim pieces, waving Pete over.
“Excuse me, Boss, but work awaits.”
Kiki watched the men until she was sure each was working. She put her knife away and walked outside.
Cid angled his head, raising his hand. He heard Kiki start her truck and drive off.
“She’s gone.”
“Thank God for that. I swear her eyes were glowing red when I walked in,” Carl said.
“Maybe the work light reflected from her retinas,” Cid said.
“I did have to turn it on when I walked in. I was surprised it was off. There she was in the dark sharpening her knife.” A look of horror filled his face. He took off running up the stairs shouting, “Sally! Sally!”
Cid smiled when he heard Sally respond. “What the hell has gotten into you? Put me down. You gave me a fright.”
Cid informed the others, “Sally’s irritated but safe.”
“You and those ears of yours,” Jesse said. “No secret is safe if Garrett has his ear to the door.”
Carl came back down the stairs carrying a bag of chips. Wayne tried to grab the bag.
“Hands off, I’ve got to keep up my strength,” Carl said.
The men resumed their work, and Cid filed Kiki’s red eyes, along with her leaving before the work day was finished, as interesting.
~
Cid had just changed his shirt for dinner when there was a pounding on the trailer door. Cid opened it to see Carl standing there. “I’ve come to discuss Kiki Pickles and my sister sharing a room.”
“Sure. Would you like a beer?”
“Please,” Carl said. He walked through the trailer, opening and closing compartments. “This seems a lot bigger on the inside. If I put her in here, would you keep your hands off her?”
“I don’t think Sally would appreciate being put into a trailer with two bachelors. Why not toss Walrus out on the couch and put Sally in your room?”
“You’re right, that would be the best solution. The reason I would rather have her here than in that building is that she suffers from PTSD. In her case, her fight and flight instinct, once turned on, she can’t shut it off and… It’s not pretty. Sudden noises can set her off. I hate to think how Sally would have responded if it were her seeing that knife and those red eyes and not me. I think Sally would feel safer here, if there’s room.”
“Is Sally asking to change rooms?” Cid asked.
Carl patted his chest. “I would feel safer if Sally could bunk with you guys until I know Kiki is back to her old self.”
“I’ll sleep here at the table, and she can have my bunk. There’s a door that she can close. Jesse is on the opposite side of the trailer.”
“You didn’t answer my question. Can you keep your hands off her?”
“I’m a gentleman and I will not take advantage. Neither will Jesse. You’ve worked with him.”
“That’s the problem. I’ve heard his stories.”
“That’s what they are, they are stories. If it makes you feel better, I’ll have Faye stay in here too. Sally will never be alone with one of us.”
“That would help.”
“Ask Jesse if she can bunk here. I’m just his guest. Give him the responsibility of keeping her safe. It would be good for him.”
~
“I’m what?” Sally asked, not believing her ears.
“You’re staying in the fifth wheel with the cowboy and Cid.”
“Carl, I can take care of myself.”
“Sister Angelica would skin me alive if she knew you were rooming with a possibly possessed woman.”
“What would she do to me, living with two men?” Sally asked, her hands on her hips.
“Go pack. I’ll stir the sauce,” Carl ordered.
Sally knew better than to fight Carl. She walked past Kiki who seemed deep in thought looking at her whiteboard. It took a few minutes, but she had everything jammed into her duffle bag with the exception of her toothbrush. She’d bring that down with her after supper. She lugged the bag down the steps and out into the cold fading light. She pounded on the door, and Jesse opened it and reached for her duffle.
“Welcome to Villa Holden. We have you booked into the just vacated Garrett suite. Mind your head.”
“I’m sorry about this, Jesse. When Carl makes up his mind…”
Jesse waved her off. “I’ve worked with him for years. I understand. Since we’re now bunkhouse mates, I was going to call you Hands Off, or HO for short, but Cid thought that would be a bad idea. I thought Not A Guy or NAG. Again, it just didn’t fit.”
“How about Sally?” she said, her face full of mirth.
“Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Where’s Cid?”
“He’s outside having a conversation with someone named Father Santos.”
“Is Cid Catholic?”
“You’d think so, but I don’t think he’s practicing. Father Santos is a big cheese in exorcist circles. He’s a friend of the Martin family and PEEPs.”
“Would you mind if I just toss my duffle on the bunk. Carl is in charge of my sauce. Last time I left him alone in the kitchen, my Italian meal ended up tasting like Tex-Mex.”
“No problem. See you at dinner, Sally.”
Faye appeared when Sally left. “You did a remarkable job of making her feel better.”
“I’m a saint, what can I say. Saint Jesse of the spirit level.”
“Clever,” Cid said walking in.
“It works in two different scenarios.”
“You just missed Sally. What’s up with Father Santos?”
“Father Simon came to see him. Santos is worried and gave me some advice. Evidently, there’s a rumor that this heritage demon doesn’t want to be bound to Atwater. It’s actually a hostage.”
“Yikes, that doesn’t sound good,” Faye said. “Should we tell Carl that Kiki is just being a bitch and not possessed?”
“No!” Jesse and Cid said together, for different reasons.
“The demon could still be working for Atwater. It just doesn’t want to be,” Cid said.
“Maybe part of it resides in one of those boxes,” Jesse suggested.
“We spoke with Jon,” Cid told Faye. “We’ll do our best by him.”
“I know you will.”
“I’m also going to interview him when this is all over.”
“Why?” Faye asked curious.
“He’s sane as you or me, and the rest of the ghosts are past the point of no return.”
“Yes.”
“I’m working on a theory that Irish ghosts don’t go crazy,” Cid said. “I’m going to see if Burt would like to work on this with me. He’s getting a grant to study the paranormal.”
“Don’t use Jon,” Faye said.
Jesse caught Cid’s eye. “Faye, he seems like an upstanding ghost. Cid’s an upstanding corporeal. I’m sure each will treat the other with respect.”
“Good. Now what are we going to do about Kiki? She’s going to kick up a fuss when she finds out Sally’s staying with you two.”
“I think we’ll leave that sensitive subject to Carl to deal with,” Cid told her. “Faye, before you go, Sally has told me in confidence, and her brother has confirmed it, that Sally suffers from PTSD. This is post-traumatic stress disorder. Many of our returning veterans have it. She could…”
“Go off her nut,” Jesse filled in.
“No. She may feel the uncontrollable need to run away or fight. Please let Carl or one of us know if you see Sally is in distress.”
“I will. You’ll owe me,” Faye said. “I hear favors are returning.”
Faye disappeared.
Jesse looked over at Cid. “Explain favors to me?”
“First, I have to tell you about a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy…”
“Is this going to take some time?”
“Yes.”
“Then save it for story time. I originally thought you could read Sally and me Lady Chatterley’s Lover, but this sounds better.”
Cid raised an eyebrow.
“My house, my rules. You have to be Dad. And that means story time, hot toddies, cookies in the afternoon, and you get to do my laundry. Wait, that makes you Mom.”
Cid closed his eyes and shook his head.
“Did you think your courtship of Sally was going to go smoothly? Where’s the challenge in that?” Jesse said, grabbed his coat and slipped out the door.
Chapter Nine
“Cid Garrett is mutinying?” Alan asked because he thought he’d heard wrong.
“He’s taken control of the renovation.”
“How?”
Kiki explained all that had happened from her point of view. Alan, through years of dealing with irate heirs and clients, had learned to read between the lines. He also knew his position in Kiki’s life was her boyfriend. With that, the rules changed. He tiptoed into the conversation with, “Do you want the lawyer or the boyfriend to speak?”
Kiki melted. “First, the boyfriend.”
“I’ll kill him.”
“Okay, now the lawyer.”
“He’s just trying to keep everyone alive. If he’s worried, then you should be concerned too. Why don’t I come down there and mediate a compromise?”
“Look at Cid’s contract. See what I can do to fire him now.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes. It’s my company!”
“Kiki, he’s not trying to take over the company. I’ll call him and…”
“No you won’t!”
“I thought you wanted me to be a lawyer…”
“Shit.”
“If you fire him now, you have to pay him in full for the entire job, unless you can prove negligence. I seriously doubt that Mr. Garrett has been neglectful. If anything, I’m sure he’s got your back in this. You’re being too stubborn to see it. Take a step back and seriously look at this. What happened today?”
“They were attacked in the basement. If they had not been prepared by Cid, Pete may have been injured.”
“Pete?”
“What the Fuck. What the Fuck was pulled into the darkness after the ghosties consumed the energy from the work light’s battery.” Kiki sighed. “They did get the plumbing set up and the fuse box transferred. Why am I such a bitch?”
“Where is Wayne in all of this?”
“He’s on Cid’s side.”
“Wayne has always had your back. Maybe he doesn’t think Cid is doing anything other than protecting Wayne so he can get his work finished safely. Go and talk to Wayne.”
“I will. Supper will be interesting. Sally’s moved out of my room. Carl insisted.”
“Why?”
“He thinks I’m possessed by a demon. He told it to my face.”
“That would do it. Are you?” Alan asked.
“I don’t think so. Just trying to do business and keep to my contract and bring the job in early so I can get back to you.”
“Good,” Alan said. “Just make sure it’s to get back to me and not for the obscene bonus Atwater is offering you.”
“Yes, sir,” Kiki said.
The smell of garlic bread filled the building. Kiki followed her nose into the common room where Sally had laid an Italian feast of beef ravioli and spaghetti with large baskets of crispy garlic breads. Wine was airing on the side table. Also, there was an ice bucket of longneck beer cooling.
Jesse and Cid arrived after she did, and Jesse managed to put himself between the two combatants.
Sally poured wine and stood in the kitchen doorway waiting for them to begin.
“You’re not eating?” Pete asked her.
“Not with you riffraff. I have a delicate stomach,” Sally lied. The truth was, she was feeling off. She had taken her medication and would be enjoying her meal in the quiet of the kitchen at the counter.
By unwritten rule, no one talked about the job when they were eating. Cid showed pictures Mia had sent of the twins being pulled around on a sled by the two older boys on the great lawn in front of the castle.
“They can hardly sit up in those snowsuits,” Carl said. “I remember those days. I’d just get the kids outfitted and one would have to pee. The other would fall asleep from being too warm waiting and my wife would mouth, ‘I told you so,’ in her superior way. Still, we had fun.”
“I’m sure your kids remember it fondly,” Wayne said. “My first memory of snow was at my grandma’s house. My brother and cousins and I were all trudging up a hill. The older boys were pulling the padded wooden toboggan my father and uncles had waxed. My grandfather had cut a path in the autumn through the fallow hillside field, in preparation for winter sledding. We all piled on, and I was wedged between my brother and my cousin. The eldest two started the sled and jumped on. We flew down the hill. I was too small to see our descent, except from the side, but I felt it. Bliss.”
“It’s strange, the feeling of being launched over a bump on a sled is the same as hitting an air pocket flying, but we don’t like that as much,” Gary admitted.
“A lot further to fall,” Pete said. “Did anyone build snow forts?”
Kiki listened to the men. She didn’t have childhood memories of snow except that it sometimes dusted the cars outside her California home. She thought about each male who sat there. She imagined the paths they took to get to this spot at this time and marveled at how diverse they were.
> Cid heard Sally catch her breath and whimper. He excused himself and carried his plate into the kitchen. The others continued the conversation. Carl looked over at the kitchen door briefly but joined in when the group discussed skating for the first time.
Cid arrived to find Sally crouched in the corner. Her hands were shaking, and she had a wild look in her eyes. He looked around and didn’t see anything that would have caused this reaction.
“I don’t know if you will allow me to hold you?” he said softly. “I’m not sure if I will help or hurt, but I can’t stand here and see you in such agony.”
Sally heard him as if he was talking from far away. She managed to reach a hand up, and he was there instantly. Cid scooped her up and sat on the floor with her and surrounded her with his strong arms. “You’re here with me, you’re safe, you’re strong, you’re going to get through this,” he said and repeated it as if it were a yoga mantra.
After ten minutes Sally relaxed. She let tears fall and closed her eyes. Her body had exhausted her. She would have fallen over if she had not been surrounded by Cid.
Carl walked in. He recognized the situation. “I’ll keep the others out,” he said and closed the door. “She’ll come around in time. Poor kid.”
Cid didn’t say anything but listened to Sally’s breathing even out. Her heart was no longer racing. Sally opened her hands, slowly flexing her fingers that were stiff from holding them in fists for so long.
Cid spoke softly, “I have a friend who can walk your mind with you and help to ease your symptoms. She hasn’t been able to make it go away for our friend Lazar, but he has less and less attacks.”
“What do you mean walk my mind?”
“It’s like therapy. She talks with you and looks and sees what is amiss. In our minds, we humans build houses to protect our memories. Some people have hatches instead of windows, and I hear Ted’s looks like a giant internet storage complex. Each of us design what works best for us. I have a room full of card catalogs like you might see in old libraries. This is how I store my memories. Once, I asked Mia to pull out a horrible memory of mine and replace it with something else. I know it sounds crazy, but it worked. I still faintly remember the incident, but it no longer causes me to feel shame.”