by Alexie Aaron
Lorna walked away from the circle and into the still night.
“Hey, Barbie, want to put on some clothes before you catch your death?” Tonia asked, handing her the clothes she discarded in the sweat lodge.
“I hear you’re anxious to be off.”
“I caught wind of a strange occurrence in Indianapolis. It could be my friend the thigh-muncher. If we sneak out of Dodge, we’ll be there in six hours.”
“Have you said our thanks or even said goodbye?”
“No. They’re in mourning for Santos, best not bother them.”
Lorna’s stomach turned over. “Is he dead?”
“That’s debatable. Father Alessandro gave him his last rites. Soon after, Angelo showed up and stole the good father’s body and flew away with it. Angelo saved Mia, perhaps Santos too?”
Lorna knew firsthand the damage that the priest endured on the deer-woman’s horns. “This time, I don’t think so. Yes, let’s leave. They will try to be nice, but every time…”
“We see you, we’ll see him dying on your horns,” Mia said from the darkness. “No, you’re not going away thinking that. We do not hold you responsible for his death. I know too well the damage thoughts like that cause. The skin-walker killed him. If it wasn’t you, it could have been Murphy’s axe. You were used, nothing more.”
“Mia,” Lorna started. “Who blames you for a death?”
“Two years ago, a powerful spirit rose out of the swamps and influenced other spirits, and a dear friend of mine’s wife was in danger. I arrived seconds too late to save her, and she died. Whit tried, but he never could look at me and not remember how horribly his wife died. It’s an unjust burden he put on my shoulders. It has taken me until hearing you talk about Father Santos to be able to free myself from that blame. I was just there to find her. I didn’t kill her. There was nothing I could do, and she died.”
“Listen to her Lorna,” Tonia urged.
Mia walked up and took Lorna’s hands in her gloved ones. “We’re born already carrying a burden into this life, left here on earth without an instruction manual. Many times our families don’t understand us or are taken from us. We have the lovely job of mopping up the universe’s mistakes and tempting fate until it hits us back. This time it took a loved one. I decided not to let this stop me. I’ll still fight the good fight, cross over the lost ones, and do my best to find a balance between this world and the next. I expect no less from you two.”
“Mia, the Council denied your request. They said that a place was already laid at his table for Brian. They dared not interfere,” Tonia said. “I’m sorry.”
“It was worth a try. We Coopers –that’s my maiden name – we Coopers tend to fight well after the final bell has sounded. We push the envelope. We love too hard. I hear that’s a curse, but I find it wonderful. The Council still owes me a favor. One day I’ll be able to collect.”
Lorna and Tonia looked amused. “You can try, but we’ve been asking for a vacation for six years, and the old bats say there’s no time,” Tonia told her.
“Then you better take a bit of enjoyment while you can. Come and spend a night with us. We’re going to tell our best Father Santos stories. You’ll be entertained right down to the last exaggeration. After that, you can seek out what Indianapolis has in store for you,” Mia promised.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Alice May Blackwell waited at the creek for the kind priest who had called to her. It took a few moons, but he came finally and was please to find her waiting there for him.
“Come, my daughter, come and talk to old Father Alessandro.”
“I fear, Father, that I am much older than you,” she said blushing.
He patted the fallen tree he had chosen as a seat and said, “Sit down.” He added, “We’ll let the age thing be our little secret.”
Alice brought with her the basket she always carried. Alessandro took a moment to look at her collection. “Ghost flowers, I didn’t know any still existed.”
“They do. You just have to know where to look,” Alice told him.
“Alice, your mother is no longer here,” he said softly. “Her demise was her own doing. A choice she made long ago.”
“I understand that. Is it time for my punishment?” the spirited spinster asked.
“Why would you need to be punished?”
“I’m responsible for Daisy…”
“Daisy forgave you. She took that sin away with her. Will you come with me, and let me guide you to the light?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Yes. Everyone has a choice. You can stay here and roam the woods, looking at the flowers you have already found. Or you can go into the light and seek out other gardens, other flowers.”
“I suppose I’ve pretty much seen and recorded all that’s here,” she admitted. “I’ll come with you.”
The two of them walked out of the woods and up the drive where Mia waited, holding a large pot of pansies. She opened the gate of the cemetery and said, “We found your bones. I’m sorry it took so long,” she apologized.
Alice May Blackwell looked around her and saw the familiar faces from the Murphy farm. Stephen Murphy himself was standing at the edge of the graveyard. He tipped his hat to her, and she smiled shyly at him.
Father Alessandro started the service, and as he talked, she was aware of a warming heat to her right side. She turned around and saw a portal of some kind. Inside the light was a familiar face. “Come Alice, come and see what I found in our garden,” Daisy said.
Mia watched the spinster lose her sour look. She witnessed the tears of joy and thought she heard a familiar voice just before Alice May Blackwell walked into the light.
Mia nodded to Father Alessandro. “She’s gone. I think Daisy was waiting for her.”
“There could be no better guide,” he said. “Ted, put that down, you don’t know where it’s been,” he scolded.
Ted, who had found a strange signet ring, set it down as he was told. He knew better than to not listen to the priest.
“Would you like to come back to our place for some barbecue?” Ted asked him.
“I’m not…”
“Cid’s cooking,” Mia said quickly.
“Yes, I would love to,” Alessandro said, winking at Ted.
The rest of the PEEPs got into the van and headed over to prepare the meal.
Mia walked down to where the houses used to stand. Gerald’s construction crew filled in the basements with cement mixed with blessed dolomite, after the bones were extracted from the caverns. Alice’s were found set aside from the others. Her mother must have given her a dominant position in her private charnel house. The rest of the bones were buried in a vault Cid and Ted constructed in the small graveyard. If anyone came looking for a missing relative, who was lost a hundred and fifty years ago, they would be able to gain access to the bones.
There were still a few spirits floating around or walking aimlessly. Mia knew that, by and by, the light would come for them too. Until then, they weren’t doing any harm. She stopped at the red stain in the concrete. She looked at the rusty red color and sighed. “Have you heard anything?” she asked, sensing Father Alessandro behind her.
“Father Santos was already dead when Angelo stopped the ambulance and took his body away. I know sometimes death isn’t death, but Mia do not torture yourself. My friend had a rich, full life. He crossed so many over that he will have quite a crowd awaiting him, as I expect you will. Unless you plan on staying…”Alessandro said, looking over at Murphy.
“Let’s not write that book yet, Father,” Mia said. “I’ve got Sabine’s daughters to nurture and teach. Ted and I are hoping to have children someday, and I’ve got a lot of living to do, and things to learn. After all, I still haven’t learned to cook or row a boat.”
Father Alessandro pulled Mia in close and held her chin while he spoke softly, “You are a wonder, an amazing woman. You are loved, and above all, you love. Continue doing what you do best, and l
eave the cooking to Cid.”
“Yes, Father,” Mia said and kissed the old priest on the cheek.
Ted honked the horn of the truck. He called out the window, “Come on you two. I can smell the ribs and baked beans from here.”
Mia walked over and smiled at Murphy who climbed into the back of the truck, allowing the priest his spot inside. Alessandro opened the back window, turned up the volume on Patsy Cline and sang along with her, much to the disgust of Murphy.
***
Alexie Aaron
After traveling the world, Alexie Aaron, a Midwestern native, returned to her roots where she’s been haunting for years. She now lives in a village outside of Chicago with her husband and family.
Her popular Haunted Series was born from her memories of fleeting shapes rushing around doorways, an heirloom chair that rocked itself, cold feelings of mysterious dread, and warm feelings from the traces of loved ones long gone.
Alexie also writes the Cin Fin-Lathen Mysteries. These cozies set in England and south Florida combine action and intrigue with a liberal dose of humor.