Walnut Grove House

by Alexie Aaron

  “I think she’s disappointed I didn’t finish Daniel’s tale yet.”

  “Patience isn’t her strong suit.” Cid walked over and drew Sally into his arms. He kissed her. “That’s because I missed you and not for the amazing aromas coming from this kitchen.”

  Sally laughed.

  “I have good news,” Cid said.

  “Please tell.”

  “Alan broke the news to Kiki this morning, and she agreed to stay away as long as we complete this job, safely. She has accepted she had been possessed and is working hard in the library to gather as much information as she can so we can deal intelligently with the Atwaters.”

  “Good. I didn’t need her sneaking up on us. I had visions of her cracking the safe and letting that demon loose.”

  “You should write lurid fiction,” Cid said.

  “Maybe I will,” Sally said. “After I finish with the cookbook I’ve been working on.”

  Cid took a step back. “I had no idea.”

  Sally smiled. “The working title is Basic Grub.”

  “I’d say put your energy into changing the working title.”

  Sally chuckled. “I’m sure once I firm up what recipes of mine will make the cut, I will have an idea what theme the book will have.”

  “I love cookbooks, especially ones with pictures in them. Mia calls my collection food porn.”

  “Well, Mr. Garrett, I had no idea…” Sally said, affecting a deep southern accent. “My foster mother warned me about men like you. ‘Sally dear,’ she’d say, ‘if the man only wants you for your cooking, then you’ll die of dishpan hands.’”

  “Cruel but true,” Cid said.

  Sally snapped a dishtowel Cid’s way. “Get out of here so I can get this on the table and get back to my book.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  ~

  Wayne finished his coffee and stood up. He walked over to the whiteboard and crossed out the completed projects. “I’d like us to continue work on the bathrooms, but we’re waiting on approval of the tubs. Bridgeton is supposed to be here on the weekend. He is expecting Kiki to be here. I will be filling in for her. I understand that is allowed per the contract. Basically, I think we should use this time to complete the modernization of the kitchen. Renew the faded and cracked woods of the butler’s pantry and the main dining room. We are all within a yelp of each other, so I don’t see any problem with splitting up. Jesse, draw up plans for the quickest way of sealing off that basement ceiling. We’ll all give you a hand once you’re ready to do so. The only thing we should leave open is the access to the plumbing from the second floor. Are there any questions?”

  Pete raised his hand, an old habit from his school days.

  “Yes?”

  “I have a question for Cid.”

  Cid looked at Wayne. Wayne nodded his assent.

  “What’s your question?” Cid asked Pete.

  “If those monsters downstairs have been lying over their graves gaining power and there is nothing draining them, what happens when they get loose?”

  “What do you think happens?” Cid asked.

  “Nothing good.”

  “So we need to work on keeping them contained until we can release them to the light,” Cid said.

  “Which we can’t do under contract,” Wayne stressed. “My advice, gentlemen, is that we get this job done and get the hell out of here before this house blows.”

  “Why aren’t they being drained of power?” Gary asked.

  “Because we contained the demon ghost, and before you ask, we’re not letting it go,” Jesse said.

  “Take heart, there are minds working on this problem right now. We need to hold it together for a few more days,” Cid said. “Faye has our backs.”

  Faye materialized slowly as to not spook Wayne. “What about Jon and Blue Daniel?” she asked.

  “I’m going to personally set them free when we can get on the other side of this contract,” Cid vowed. “We still need as much information as we can gather. We have researchers working on the problem.”

  “Fair enough,” Faye said and disappeared.

  Cid was annoyed by Faye’s insistence, but a slow realization dawned on him. Faye was smitten with Jon. She had a horse in this race, and she was determined hers was going to win. He glanced at the door, and Sally was standing there. He too had reason to win this race. He didn’t need a wreath of roses as incentive to quickly circumnavigate the course. He had a woman he never dreamed would be interested in him waiting at the finish line.

  Wayne dismissed the meeting. Cid took the time to help clear the room.

  Sally put her hand on his arm. “My job.”

  “If your responsibilities are lessened, then you can read. Sally, the answers are in that book.”

  “Then I think we will be ordering pizza tonight.”

  Pete ran upstairs. “Sally, there is a delivery man asking for your signature.”

  Sally followed Pete down the stairs. A man stood next to several large coolers and a crate.

  “I’m looking for Sally Wright.”

  Sally slid her ID out from her pocket. She handed it to the delivery person. He handed her an envelope and asked her to sign a receipt. “Where do you want the boxes?” he asked.

  “Depends on what’s in them?” Sally said, opening the envelope.

  “Italian beef sandwich makings, pizzas to be baked, and a selection of sides.”

  Sally ran her finger down the invoice and said, “It looks like lunch and dinner have been supplied. I’ll take them up. Does anyone have any tip money?”

  Cid dug down in his pocket and pulled out his last ten.

  “The tip has been paid,” the delivery man said, waving away the money.

  Sally handed the letter to Cid. “Come on, Pete, help me carry these up and I’ll make you a quick snack to take with you.”

  Cid stood there and read the message:

  Dear Sally,

  I’m sorry for not being in total possession of my faculties. Alan said you’ve taken on another task, so I’m cooking today. Please forgive me.

  Kiki Pickles

  ~

  Sally left the carriage house with her books and her papers. She walked into the trailer and took Cid’s shirt from the top of the laundry bag. She needed his scent, his strength, and his courage because she sensed the words Daniel was ready to impart would not be easy to read.

  I took up the mantle of foreman of the carvers. I inspected the work and, alongside Jon, worked long into the night finishing the balustrade. I could not be prouder of the work I helped to bring about. Our work was decorative, but I made sure that no splinter or excess of wax could be found anywhere. Me mam would have been proud.

  The stone masons disappeared one night. Their work finished, they must have packed up and left for other jobs. Back at home they would get a sendoff, here they just left as if they never were.

  When Jon and I had finished our work, we were told we would have to wait for it to be inspected by a member of the family. I didn’t expect the old man August to climb the stairs, so I wasn’t surprised when Arnold walked in. He had with him a woman with long flowing robes. He called her Gee, and she smiled at me when I addressed her as Miss Gee. She ran her hands along the wood and nodded as I explained how to care for the individual pieces. She didn’t speak.

  When Jon and I had finished showing Arnold our work, he clasped his hands together and said, “No finer job has ever been done.”

  “I guess then it is time for us to part ways,” Jon said.

  “You can pick up your pay from the foreman when you leave.”

  “Our foreman has left already,” I told Arnold.

  His face clouded. “Then I will pay you personally…”

  “Dear, what about the roof bosses?” Miss Gee asked Arnold. “The Basso man promised us he would make them.”

  “Gentlemen, would you be interested in staying on a bit longer? I w
ill pay you double your rate for your inconvenience,” Arnold said. “I fear an important project has been overlooked. Something you could apply your talents to. Have you ever seen a roof boss?”

  “There be a few in the church at home,” Jon said. “They are funny looking fellows that hug the intersection of the ribs of the vaulted ceiling.”

  “What I need instead are little boxes that are locked with special keys. I have a drawing if it would help.”

  We were ecstatic. Not only would we be continuing to make good money, but Arnold insisted that we take up residence in the servant quarters under the eaves of the third floor. No more were we confined in the cellar with the rest. We spent our days carving and dreaming of what we would do with all the money owed to us. After we set the first box, I went to town and sent all that I had left to my mam and da. I told them soon I would be not a rich man but a man of means.

  I noticed the house was quiet when I returned. The Italians were gone. They had left their tools which I thought was odd. Jon thought so too. Maybe they were just on a break and would be working on another Atwater property. If we impressed Arnold, maybe the family would take us on, maybe as foremen.

  Jon had just secured the second box when I entered the attic.

  “Did the Italians cause a ruckus when they left?”

  “They left?” Jon asked surprised.

  “Yes. I think we’re the last workmen on site.”

  “Well, let’s get the last two boxes placed and pack our things. We don’t want to be asked to leave.”

  “Ah the Orish, the last to leave the dinner party,” I said. “We’ve earned our right to be here. We have conducted ourselves with propriety and have shared our talents.”

  Jon just shrugged his shoulders. “Rich men are rich men wherever they call home. We’re not one of them.”

  We finished our work and tested the locks on the boxes. Jon laid a nice secure pathway to each box before we presented the keys to Arnold. He walked to each box and tried the locks. He smiled as each one held. “Did you have any trouble with the wood?”

  “It’s softer than walnut,” Jon said.

  “It comes from a very special woodland. Miss Gee knows it well.”

  “Where is Miss Gee this fine evening?” Jon asked.

  “She is preparing. Would you and Mr. Sullivan like to join us for a drink before bedtime? We’ll be in the west sitting room.”

  I was flabbergasted. The grandson of the owner of the home inviting the likes of us for drinks. We accepted. I wish we hadn’t.

  Sally put the book down. Her heart was pounding, and she felt like she needed to run. She barely sent an SOS to Cid before she broke out in a sweat. She couldn’t catch her breath, and her heart hurt.

  The trailer was filled with the sounds of gunfire and then explosions. Her ears rang, and the pressure of the falling building that was burning and burying her alive was too much. She pushed and pushed to keep the ceiling from crushing her.

  Sally didn’t hear Cid call her. She was in hell.

  Cid found Sally in the corner of the bunk. Her arms were raised above her, and she was hyperventilating. He ducked out of the room and came back with a paper bag.

  “How can I help?” he asked, putting his hands on either side of her face.

  Between gasps of air, she said, “The ceiling is crushing me. The fires are burning me. I can’t breathe.”

  Cid crawled on the bunk and pulled Sally’s body so it rested under the shelter he made with his body. He blew the bag open with one hand and put it to her mouth and told her, “Breathe in and out. I’m keeping the ceiling from crushing you.”

  Sally discarded the paper bag. She reached up and her hand connected with his chest. “Don’t crush me, don’t burn me, help me!”

  Cid grabbed her hand. “Feel my heart beating. I’m not going to let you be crushed.”

  “They’re going to die, and I can’t stop them,” Sally said, her eyes briefly focusing on Cid.

  “Who, Sally, who is going to die?”

  “Jon and Daniel.”

  “Sally, they are long gone. They left years ago. You can’t save their earthly bodies, but we can save their souls. Pick up that bag and breathe in and out…”

  Sally focused on Cid’s voice. Soon her heart slowed. The ceiling was no longer falling, and the emotional residue had changed from pain to shame. She cried and turned away. “Leave me, I’ve wet myself.”

  Cid gathered Sally in his arms and pulled her close. “It doesn’t matter. Let me help.”

  Cid lifted her and maneuvered both of them out the door and down to the tiny bathroom. He peeled off her soiled clothing and started the shower. He kept a hand on her shaking body as he washed her. When she was comfortable, he wrapped her in a towel and carried her to Jesse’s bed and laid her down. He then cleaned up the bunk, stripped the wet bedclothes and replaced them. Next, he looked through her things and didn’t find anything that wouldn’t take some tugging to get on. He grabbed his PEEPs backup sweats and walked into Jesse’s room.

  Jesse was standing there looking down at the towel-wrapped woman curled in the fetal position on his bed unaware he was there.

  “Either you just gifted me Sally or I should make myself scarce.”

  “Please, I’ll explain later.”

  “I’ll lock the door after me,” Jesse said and left.

  Cid sat down and ran his hand along her cheek. Sally opened her eyes.

  “Let me get you dressed and put back in your room. I almost lost you to finders keepers.”

  Sally was silent but compliant. “Thank you,” she said barely above a whisper.

  Cid guided her back to her bunk. He tucked her in and removed the book from the room. He cleaned up the trailer. Cid remade Jesse’s bed and rinsed out Sally’s soiled clothing. He tucked everything away in his laundry bag before walking back in to check on her.

  Sally lay looking at the ceiling. She heard him enter and turned her head.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize Daniel’s story would trigger an attack,” Cid said. “Will you forgive me?”

  “I wanted to read it. I want to participate. But he became too real to me.”

  “And you wanted to save him.”

  “Him and Jon,” Sally said.

  “Has this ever happened before with a book?”

  “No, but I embarrassed myself in the movies once.”

  “Ted and I crawled out of the Night of the Living Dead during the midnight showing.”

  “You were children…”

  “Sally, we were adults, and we had machetes under our jackets.”

  “Cid, how can I have a normal life when I’m far from normal?” she asked.

  “With a little help. But normal is boring. Trust me.”

  “Did I hurt you? I’ve hurt people before.”

  “No. I need to learn what to do and not do. Let me help you, Sally.”

  Sally began to cry - not tears of hysteria or tears of sorrow, but the stream of tears moving away from her eyes at an alarming rate were tears of relief. She clung to Cid. “I need my medication, and then I’m going to sleep. The adrenaline surge has left me exhausted.”

  Cid went out and found Sally’s purse. He brought it back to her with a bottle of water. “I’ll take over the kitchen until you can manage.”

  “Please stay with me until I sleep.”

  “You couldn’t pull me away with a 10x10.”

  After Sally fell asleep, Cid picked up the laundry and carried it into the carriage house. He started a load and pulled out the book and began to read. It didn’t take him long to catch up to where Sally had stopped. He changed over the loads and pulled a beer out of the refrigerator. He texted Jesse that Sally needed some peace and quiet and that Cid was on laundry duty.

  I’ve got you covered. You owe me a story. J

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kiki slammed down a booklet.

  Alan looked over. “Out wi
th it.”

  “How can this be an evil man? There are dozens of testimonials on how he helped his neighbors, his community and his country. Why would he want to hide these?”

  “I can’t find any faults except that he never mentions a woman in his life. It’s almost unheard of that a bachelor would become a statesman.”

  “Constance Atwater Princeton, his widowed aunt, took over most of the entertaining. Before you waste your time, her husband died in Europe trying to save a family trapped during an avalanche prior to Arnold starting off his illustrious career.”

  “I found evidence that there may have been and still is a woman in Arnold’s life. Look at these photos.”

  Kiki stared at the newsprint photo and saw Arnold cutting the ribbon on a mall. There was a group of dignitaries. Amongst them was a beautiful woman with black Spanish lace on her head. “Another widow?” Kiki questioned.

  “Here’s another photo,” Alan said.

  Arnold was dancing with a child who had braces on her legs. There was a dark beauty looking on from the crowd.

  “Notice, in both photos, everyone is listed but the lady.”

  “Wait!” Kiki said and thumbed through one of the booklets she had read. “I didn’t think anything of it, but here is a picture of Arnold dockside launching a ship. She’s in the crowd watching.”

  Alan pushed a copy of a Washington gossip column in front of Kiki and tapped the picture beside it. “The writer doesn’t mention the woman. It’s as if she didn’t register in anyone’s mind, just on film.”

  “Who is she, and how does she fit into this?” Kiki asked. “She could be a dark magic practitioner. She could have summoned the heritage demon for August Atwater.”

  “By why stick around?” Alan mused.

  “She could be controlling the heritage demon. Cid said, if it hasn’t taken any Atwater souls to Hell and increased its coffers with gold, then there is a possibility that the demon is somehow a slave to Atwater.”

  “You met with the Atwater family lawyer in my building. I’m having security pull footage of everyone who was in the building at the time,” Alan insisted.