Walnut Grove House

by Alexie Aaron

  Father Santos did so. Kiki then walked over to each ember and smothered them with the baking soda. She returned to the priest. “What do we do now?”

  “Let the memory dissolve. It’s not your memory to keep. The evil that the elemental has left has been smothered.”

  Father Simon watched as six thick drops of black tar oozed from Kiki’s eyes, nostrils and ears. They flowed down her face.

  Sister Sarah caught the drops in white cotton cloth. She took the cloth to Sister Olive who held an open wooden box, made of the same wood of the chair, and closed it.

  Father Santos stepped back. “Kiki, open your eyes.”

  Kiki did so, squinting at the strong light that seemed to radiate off the priest. “You’re glowing.”

  “Your eyes are just used to the darkness,” Father Santos said. “How do you feel?”

  “Energized and happy.”

  “Good.”

  “Am I still a vessel for this entity?”

  “Yes. Until it is destroyed, you will be a vessel it can return to. There no longer is any residue it can activate when you are near. I can give you protections to help you to know when it is around so you can protect yourself,” Father Santos said, turning around and washing his hands in the bowl Sister Sarah now held.

  Kiki frowned. “Why did it pick me?”

  “You were in charge,” Father Simon said simply. “You had control over the project.”

  “I thought it picked me because I was flawed.”

  Father Santos turned and made eye contact with her. “How are you flawed?”

  “I’m not a good person. I’ve a bad temper. I’m paranoid, greedy and jealous.”

  “Sounds like you’re human,” Father Santos said.

  “You’re not what I thought you were,” Kiki said. “None of you are. Thank you for being kind and not judgmental.”

  Father Santos smiled. “You needed help. This is why we’re here. If you want to work on your flaws, then do so. If you want to seek out a better understanding of God, then one of us would be happy to assist you.”

  Sister Olive led Kiki back to the smaller room where she wiped down Kiki’s body with holy water before she allowed Kiki to get dressed.

  Alan stared so hard at the stained-glass windows of the chapel that he thought he saw movement. Did an angel turn its head and stare at him? No, that was impossible. He heard a door open, and Kiki walked out. She spotted Alan and ran up the aisle to him. He scooped her up and held her tightly to his chest.

  Father Simon walked up the aisle and past them. He unlocked the door and stood there patiently.

  Alan put Kiki down and they walked swiftly to the door.

  “I owe you,” Alan said.

  “No you owe Him,” Father Simon said, opening the door. “May God bless you on your journey.”

  Alan and Kiki walked out, and Father Simon locked the door. He returned to the vestry where Father Santos was giving Sister Sarah instructions.

  “We need to burn the cloths, gown, chair, and the box. The demon residue will return to where it was born.”

  “Yes, Father.”

  “Sister Olive, we need to cleanse this room as if we had an exorcism.”

  “Yes, Father,” Sister Olive said.

  “Father Simon, prepare yourself. We will be called upon to go undercover soon.”

  Father Simon looked at the elder priest’s hands and said, “You’re not going to fool anyone that you’re a stonemason with those soft hands.”

  Father Santos grinned. “I better wear gloves.”

  Alan took Kiki to his house. He had her sit in the kitchen as he put together a meal. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked her.

  Kiki told him what she could remember. “I don’t remember the vision, but I remember baking soda being discussed.”

  “I guess that’s a good sign. I thought I saw a stained-glass angel look at me.”

  “It better not have been a female angel,” Kiki said.

  Alan raised an eyebrow.

  “I think I need to work on my jealousy,” Kiki admitted. “I will have to add that to my long list.”

  “Don’t change too much. Remember, I fell in love with you the way you are and not who I thought you could be.”

  “I think you too should seek out professional help. Maybe we could get a deal?”

  Alan started laughing. He put down his knife and walked over to Kiki and kissed her.

  “Thank you, Alan, for loving me,” Kiki said.

  “You’re welcome. How about you peel the potatoes?”

  “You’d trust me with a knife?” Kiki feigned horror.

  “Not my good knife. I have on good authority that you’re a thief,” Alan said.

  “Faye has a lot to answer for,” Kiki said. “I wonder what she’s up to now?”

  ~

  “When are you going to show Cid your artistry?” Faye asked Jon.

  “He’s seen it. He climbs those stairs every day.”

  “You carved the balustrade out of walnut. He’s never done that before.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I overheard him say to Jesse, ‘Look at this. I hear walnut is a beast to carve.’”

  “It depends if it is sapwood or heartwood. Tell him to keep his tools sharp.”

  “You tell him,” Faye said.

  “Who am I to tell another craftsman what to do?”

  “You have an opportunity to pass on your knowledge,” Faye said. “It’s not being boastful. It’s being helpful.”

  Jon smiled. “Are you going to give the same advice to Blue Daniel?”

  “No, he’s passed on enough with his written words. I would like to lecture him about destroying a perfectly good book though.”

  “He has more hidden away.”

  “Are they memoirs?”

  “Dunno.”

  “Blue Daniel!” Faye called out.

  He appeared. “What can I do for you, Fair Faye?”

  “How many other books do you have?”

  “Nine. But they can’t help the builders. They are about my life in Ireland.”

  “I think you should show them to Cid. He and Sally say you have a nice way with words.”

  Blue Daniel blushed which made him an odd hue of purple. “Your woman is starting to manage us,” he said to Jon.

  “Are you sure you’re not Irish?” Jon asked.

  “I’m not sure of anything,” Faye admitted. She couldn’t say more; her heart was singing. Blue Daniel called her Jon’s woman, and Jon didn’t contradict him.

  ~

  Wayne put his phone down and looked over at Cid who was putting away the rest of the macaroni and cheese. “Kiki wants me to use a few of my connections to get phony references for two foundation guys.”

  “That’s not like her.”

  “I told her, between Carl and I, we could give an adequate estimate of fixing the leak. They would have to wait and work on the drainage problem in the spring. She said she knows that Carl and I could do the work, but Santos and Simon need to see the damage.”

  “Oh!” Cid exclaimed. He wiggled his finger, encouraging Wayne to the counter where Cid wrote down on the back of a recipe, Father Santos and Father Simon.

  “How could I be so thick?” Wayne said.

  “When are they arriving?”

  “Monday.”

  “I hope we’re finished by then.”

  “I don’t think it matters,” Wayne said. “Kiki was pretty chill, telling me over and over again to be safe. That the welfare of the whole team – I think that includes you – is the most important thing for me to consider.”

  “Did she hit her head?” Cid asked.

  “Most likely or got laid. You’re a different man, I noticed.”

  “No comment,” Cid said. “Anything I say now will incriminate me.”

  ~

  Sally bundled up and kept to the clear dry sidewalk as she w
alked the lit grounds of the Leighton property. She was feeling anxious and hoped that the cool fresh air would help. Sometimes when she was in a warm room, she started to feel claustrophobic and that brought on what she called the dreads. It was the first warning that an attack was possible.

  “Mind if I walk with you?” a familiar voice asked.

  Sally looked around and didn’t see a soul. “Stephen?”

  Murphy materialized.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I said I’d watch out for you, and that’s what I’m doing. Mia holds out her phone so passersby think she’s talking on the phone.”

  Sally dug out her phone and held it in her shaking hand.

  “Are you cold?”

  “No, I’m starting to feel poorly.”

  “Maybe you should go in.”

  “Stephen, it’s hard to explain, but I feel like I’m being buried alive in a burning house. I have the urge to run. If I didn’t know you were real, I’d swear you were another hallucination.”

  “Does talking about it help? I have the patience of the dead,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

  His simple sentence seemed to derail the runaway train before it left the station. “Yes, it would help. I used to be a soldier, and I was stationed in Afghanistan. It was so uncomfortably hot, and the people didn’t want us to be there. Still, I had to do my duty and patrol with others from my unit. I thought I heard a cry for help, and I and my sergeant entered an apparently abandoned house. We found it to be empty. He walked outside to see if perhaps the caller was outside in the back of the home. That’s when the outside wall exploded. The material of the ceiling caught fire, and as it came down, it started my clothes on fire. I couldn’t move as more and more debris fell on top of me. I remember screaming because the pain was so great. Then nothing.

  “According to the report, my sergeant pulled my unconscious body out and removed my burning uniform before the fire reached my neck and hair. I woke up in hospital. I relive the event again and again. They call it PTSD, which stands for post-traumatic stress disorder. Evidently, I don’t have it so bad. There are so many who suffer far worse symptoms. I’m here so I can get my life back on track.”

  “I’ve heard good things about Mark’s mother and her management of this place.”

  “Who’s Mark?”

  “Oh, do I have a story for you. But maybe we should go inside. You’re looking a bit frosty.”

  “I feel so much better, and I would love to continue this inside. Shall I meet you in my room?”

  “I shall see you there.”

  Sally entered the building and walked up to the attendant on duty. “It’s a bit cold out there.”

  “Not if you’re a polar bear,” the man joked back. “I’ll note that you’re back in the building, Miss Wright. Have a good evening.”

  Sally rushed to her room. She entered and saw that it was empty. Her face fell.

  “Is the coast clear?” Murphy asked.

  “Yes, I can’t lock the door, but I’ll put my trash can in front so we’ll hear if someone tries to sneak in,” she said, fetching the trash can. “Everyone in this wing is probably watching The Crown.”

  “Cid tried to get me to watch that, but I have a lot of trouble with the historic references. They were after my time.”

  “What was your time?”

  “Before the Civil War mostly,” Murphy said.

  “A challenging time in which to live,” Sally said, arranging the chairs so they could sit across from each other.

  Murphy adjusted the consistency of his form so he could make contact with the chair and sat. He found this was easier for people who weren’t used to a ghost simply floating in front of them. “The Martins met Mark Leighton when they had rented a cabin on Wolf’s Head Lake to be alone with Brian. No Cid, no PEEPs, and no me.”

  Sally detected a bit of resentment.

  “Mark was staying with his grandparents, the Whites, when he met the Martins - they are Sarah’s parents. Sarah was away at a course so she could earn more money to support Mark and pay for decent care of her veteran husband who suffers from locked-in syndrome. At that time, Mark’s father was in a facility not as nice as this one. Mark immediately saw that Mia was special. He kept her secret which was appreciated. He was drawn to an old house that was haunted by a negative elemental.”

  “We have that in common!” Sally said.

  “The Martins knew it was better to investigate it with PEEPs’ help, so they asked PEEPs to join them at Wolf’s Head Lake. I was allowed to come too.”

  “Allowed?”

  “Mia and I… Sometimes I overstep myself. But this time, she wanted to concentrate on saving her marriage – the particulars are something I would rather she share with you.”

  “I won’t say a word. Back to Mark.”

  “Mark really wanted to save the house, but it was too far gone. A tornado took it and the man who owned it, believe it or not, owned this mansion. His name was Wyatt Wayne. During the course of the investigation, Mia and her grandfather…”

  “I met his wife Audrey,” Sally told Murphy. “Sorry, go on.”

  “Mia and her grandfather, Orion, met Wyatt Wayne. He was so impressed by Mark that he gave the land the old house rested on and his strawberry fields to the boy. When he passed on, he gave Mia his books and money to build a library on my… our land. I helped design the building.”

  “I would love to see it.”

  “I’m sure Cid will bring you. May I finish?”

  “Please.”

  “Mr. Wayne gave this very building to his butler, Norton, who had served him well. Long story short, Norton wanted to sell the mansion. Mark, with his mother’s help, sold the fields and purchased the mansion for the purpose of creating a clinic where Mark’s father Glen could be cared for and Sarah could be with him, instead of working elsewhere.”

  “All this wonderment happened because of a negative elemental.”

  “I guess so.”

  “What happen to the negative elemental?”

  “That’s something Mia would need to tell you.”

  “No problem. This story gives me hope. Maybe when the problems at Walnut Grove House are looked back upon, we’ll see that the negative elemental being there brought the right people together, not only to fight it but, in Cid’s and my case, meet and fall in love.”

  “You really like him, don’t you?”

  “I love him. I know it’s quick, but I think it was meant to be quick. I hope it’s a lasting love. That’s why I’m going to fight my illness, so I can enter a relationship with Cid with the confidence that I’m going to be good for him. I already know he’s good for me.”

  “I wish you well,” Murphy said getting up. “If you will excuse me, I have a farm to protect and deer to scare away from my little trees. I’ve tried feeding them, scaring them, putting foul-smelling coyote urine on them, and just about everything people have used successfully.”

  “Those trees are important to you.”

  “I started out trying to make amends to the land that I had stripped of trees when I cleared it and built my farmhouse and barn. Then I saw that the planet needed trees, and it became a goal to reforest any land that isn’t being used, like old farmland where the soil has played out, failed subdivided land, and places where old factories were.”

  Sally stood up. “You are a noble knight of the forest. I’m honored to meet you and so happy you spent some time with me. Wherever I end up, you will be welcome in my home.”

  Murphy’s eyes glistened. He tugged his hat and disappeared.

  Sally sat back down and thought about all she had learned. “Even if Cid and I don’t make it, I’m going to settle here,” she promised herself.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  All weekend, the contractors labored steadily, still working in pairs, and those who had to venture into the basement did so with Faye. Lists were completed and rooms were made read
y for inspection. Typically, Kiki would bring in professional cleaners, but this was left up to Cid and Jesse. They moved from room to room with their cleaning supplies. The new bathroom suites shined, and after Jesse fixed the old vacuum, the fibers of the rugs gave up years of imbedded dust.

  Sunday evening, they walked into the library to find a pile of books on the desk. Next to them was a one word note, Mildew.

  Cid picked up a book and lifted it to his nose but didn’t detect the moldy smell. He fanned the pages and saw Daniels neat hand between the lines.

  “I think we’re supposed to take these books, and if we’re asked where they are, we are supposed to tell the Atwaters that they were mildewed,” Cid said.

  “No one wants a mildewed book,” Jesse said. He picked up one book and started reading. “We should publish these under Daniel’s name. Talk about ghost writers…”

  “I’ll run it by him. Let’s pack them up,” Cid said. He took note of the titles of the books and didn’t think that any were that valuable - or they wouldn’t be because of the destruction of pages due to Daniel writing between the lines.

  “Help!” Gary screamed. “Help Me! Holy Shit!”

  Cid and Jesse took off in the direction of Gary’s calls. They skidded into the dining room. It was empty.

  “Dear God in Heaven, what do you want?” Gary asked, his voice coming from above them.

  Cid and Jessed looked up. There was Gary with his face three inches from the ceiling.

  “What’s going on, Gary?” Cid asked. “Is that Pietro Gallo? I can’t see him, you’re too far up.”

  “Yes. That bugger picked me up and here I am,” he explained. “Pietro’s speaking to me in Eye-talian, and I haven’t a clue what he wants.”

  “Well, from here it looks like you missed a spot of paint,” Jesse said.

  “I’ll grab the ceiling paint and a brush. Try not to splash the paint everywhere. We just cleaned in here,” Cid said walking out the door.