by Yuriko Hime
When I saw that Casper's phone has produced the desired results, I pointed at the screen. "This is the address where they're meeting," I said. "Read the caption underneath it, please."
He squinted at the words. "Could anyone stand living in a house where someone was brutally murdered? Apparently not everyone. The Hopkins' found this the hard way when they purchased a seemingly innocent house. After it was offered to them for a low price, they thought they were getting a deal that was too good to be true, according to Mr. Hopkins. Indeed. Two weeks after their first night there, strange occurrences began to happen. At first it was just a misplaced utensil, Mrs. Hopkins said, but when they noticed scratches on their arms and their dog barking at night, they had to ask whether the place had a history." Casper stopped reading. "This is a shoddy article that film makers use to bait an audience," he said, his eyebrows raising in disbelief.
"Not this one." I motioned for him to continue reading.
He frowned and scrolled to another page. "The history was more than they bargained for," he read. "With five deaths, and a couple more bodies found on a secret compartment in the basement by the police in the early 1900's, the Hopkins' discovered that their lovely home was a murder house. The information was everything they needed to flee for their safety and seek an apartment in Louisiana. At recent times, because no one wanted anything to do with the property, the house is sometimes used by groups to perform satanic rituals." The sources under the story was pretty legit. What remained from Casper's smile slipped as he clapped a hand to his mouth. "Dear God. I can't believe Lulu would get involved in something like this."
"I know," I said. "Those are saved in her computer too." I shook his shoulders. "This is our chance to put our best foot forward for her. If we rescue her from this dark life, I can say I'm sorry, and you can say you love her. Are you with me on this?" Anticipation crawled from my arms to my scalp, like fire ants progressing for a common goal. He had to say yes.
Casper exploded from the sofa. His abandoned phone slid to the floor, under the couch away from view. "Just tell me what to do," he said. My brother the hero. Despite everything, this was going to be fun.
Thirty minutes later, the two of us had chosen the perfect get-up at the costume shop. It was one of those places that you'd only notice when Halloween season was near and you needed something to wear for a party. I've never had the pleasure of going inside as my mother has always readied the clothes for me, however skimpy or frightening it was, depending on both our aims for that season. And because we were pressed for time, Casper and I decided that instead of ordering online, we would buy it here. No room for fancy places when you were rescuing your best friend from Satan-loving folks. Why did that make me want to laugh?
Casper stepped out of the dressing room with his Dracula costume. He had black trousers on, a white shirt, and a red velvet vest that was yet to be buttoned. I went to him and fastened each one to place. "Is this really necessary?" he said, sleeking his hair back. "Why can't we just wear the required robe and our usual clothes underneath? They won't see it. And besides, I thought it was a rescue mission."
I slapped his hand so he'd stop messing with his hair. It was hard to style it like that. "How will you blend in when you get inside? They might ask you to take the robe off or something. Trust me, I know how these things work. You need to be in character." Buttoning the last bit on the vest, I turned to the saleslady who'd been waiting for us in the corner. "Give him the robe please," I said to her. The petite woman scrambled to her feet to get to his side. She was taken by Casper the moment we walked in. Typical.
Casper took the robe graciously and slipped it over his head. "Thanks," he said.
I leaned down and was displeased to see his shoes poking out. "You're too tall for this robe," I said. "But it will have to do. They don't have anything longer."
He tugged at the cloth. "The material is so thick. I'll sweat a puddle underneath this." The saleslady watched him with interest while he was occupied with the witches costume hanging on a rack. Sometimes it fascinated me how much women were willing to throw their panties at him without Casper even asking for it. Most of the time it made me want to puke. There was also the small percentage that I was feeling protective, for Lulu's sake. "Aren't you going to buy anything for yourself?" he asked.
"I have a couple of dresses at home that might work," I said. "Take those off and pay. Your future girlfriend is waiting for you." I put a hand on Casper's arm and grinned cockily at the saleslady. Back off, darling. This boy was accounted for. She was gloomy and pouting as she went back to the counter.
At seven in the evening, Casper and I were in full costume. Accompanying Count Dracula for the night was yours truly, wearing a green jade dress that mommy insisted for me to bring for special occasions. I drove us in high heels.
Midway to our location, I parked the car on the roadside and stopped the engine. "We need a game plan," I said. "We can't just burst in there and demand for Lulu. They might stab us."
"Lulu won't do that," Casper said. He was still sweating even if I put the AC to high.
"She won't, but her new friends might. They could kill us first, then if she refuses to do what they say, they'd kill her too."
His bead of sweat multiplied. "So what are you proposing?" He wiped his forehead.
"I think we should get inside, take a look around, then try to sneak her out in the most convenient exit while they're busy," I said. "It will be easier, pain free, not to mention a lot less bloody. Did you bring your phone? I left mine in the house. It's been acting funny since yesterday."
He looked lost for a moment before he smacked his face. "Damn it. I think it fell somewhere. How will we be able to call the police if necessary?"
I restarted the engine. "In that case we shouldn't put ourselves in a position where we'd need their help. In and out, Caspie. It's us or them."
What was it with car rides that brought out our hidden thoughts? Was it the silence? The soft the engine? The scenery? Whatever it was, Casper and I were locked inside our heads all throughout. He was thinking about Lulu, no doubt, while my mind went to Lynx. I hadn't called her to say I was alright. Right after the conversation she had with grandma, she would have gone to the bedroom to find me missing, the door to the balcony unlatched. She would assume that I'd ran from her because of disgust. It was anything but that. The familiarity principle was in full blast, and try as I might to dismiss it, I was missing her company. She'd used the power of Sociology against me.
I unbuckled my seatbelt when we reached the location. "We're here." There was no garage to park on, only a wide street that already had cars lined on each side. The other guests were there. "Don't wear your robe until we're inside," I instructed. "We need to act formal first like it said in the invitation."
Casper and I got out of the car at the same time. We draped our robes on our arms as we would if they were coats. "What else did the invitation say?" He glanced around. "Isn't it strange that the houses look similar? I can't tell one from the other."
"They have a big thing for that back in the early 1900's," I said. "The buyers must have found it more appealing if the houses were uniform because it gives the appearance of order. This is all just a guess. I have to do more research after we rescue Lulu."
A stooped doorman with thinning white hair and a sharp tuxedo was waiting on the other side of the door I've lead Casper to. He didn't ask questions when he let us in, his eyes gliding past my brother's costume. Once inside the spacious receiving hall, the doorman put his attention to his post and ignored us. "He doesn't look like a cult member to me," Casper whispered.
I put a finger on my lips. "Shhh. . . You're talking too much. Come with me." I dragged him to another room, confident that the doorman wouldn't notice. Casper and I wore our robes there, with him sweating more than he was in the car. He hated the thought of crashing a party or having beef with people regardless of who they were, but was willing to go through the plan for Lulu's sake. Boyfriend mater
ial right there. "The event is on the second floor," I said. "Let's check for other exits before going." Casper pulled the hood over his head and nodded.
We closed the door behind us after sneaking out of the room. The doorman didn't turn once in our direction and appeared as if he'd fallen asleep on his feet. I pointed to a hallway. Casper ducked his head for good measure while he went there first, me on the rear.
Because all the guests were probably on the second floor, we didn't encounter anyone on the first floor, but we did end up on the kitchen. Casper yanked the hood from his head. "I've never seen so many in one room," he said, looking at the table in disgust. "What do you reckon they'll do with those?" Meat was laid on the table, stacked near the sink, and on every surface of the kitchen. The room was stale with its smell.
I pinched my nose. "I don't know. Maybe the real question you should ask is, are those taken from animals?" Casper's face darkened as he came to the conclusion that I was trying to draw. "Right?"
"Right," he said. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down before he pulled the hood over his head again. "We've seen everything there is on this floor. It's time to go up."
Both of us tiptoed to the stairs we spotted beforehand. Casper grasped for my hand as we went up, his own cold and sweaty. Though I felt sorry for him, he needed to get through this. It was a test for his resolve. How badly did he want Lulu? How far was he willing to go for her? Casper crouched low when we got on the landing and signaled for me to follow him. I did so with the grace of a panther, or lynx. I shuddered.
"I hear voices that way," he whispered. We stopped just outside a door where the excited chatter of the people were coming from.
"Can you see anything?" I said, keeping close to his back.
He took a peek cautiously. "There's a group of about twenty people seated on a long table. There are silverwares and. . . servers are waiting at the side." He glanced at me, his grey eyes showing under the hood. There was palpable fear in them, as with the way he leaned to me. "Do you think they're going to eat people?"
My eyes widened though I knew he couldn't see it. "We have to get Lulu out of there," I said.
He peeked at the room again, his side pressed to the wall. I could feel the terror coming in waves from him, smell the distress from his sweat, hear his teeth chattering and his brain working double time. I've never seen my brother like this, even when he was thrown to jail because of me. He was angry then. He was frightened for Lulu now. "A man invited Lulu to come in front," he said, keeping his voice down, but was basically shouting it to me." The claps from inside drowned his voice.
I grabbed onto his robe. "Don't do something reckless. Let's wait for them to get busy."
He squirmed. "Lulu's in there."
"I know, but stick to the plan."
"They're getting a cleaver. They might hurt her." He sounded like he was seconds away from crying. "I'm sorry, Scotland. I need to protect her." He pried himself away from my grasp and ran inside the room. Shit.
"Casper, wait."
"Nobody move!" he announced.
I spied on them beyond the door. Each of the guests turned to him, silent and quizzical. I could hear every creak of chair as they shifted, every whoosh of air coming from their open mouths. "Who are you?" a man with salt and pepper hair spoke for the others. I could only assume him to be the head of the party, given that he was standing in front.
Casper motioned towards Lulu. "It's not important. Let her go."
The head of the party looked Casper up and down, trying to see who was hiding under the hood. "Miss Sullivan is a valued guest," he said. "Please take a seat so we can begin the cooking." He reached for the cleaver.
"I said don't move," Casper warned. His tone was pinched, dangerous, not an ounce of joke behind them.
The host shook his head. "This meeting can't be delayed at all cost." He still went for the knife.
The scene unfolded before me as I stood on the doorway. Casper tackling the head of the party. Him jumping up and grabbing the cleaver from the table, waving it around like a maniac. The look of horror on Lulu's face as she realized that it was Casper. The other guests scampering for their safety. Then, there was me, laughing my head off.
You see, this wasn't a cult meeting. Casper seemed to be registering it in his mind too as he looked at me with his mouth open like a dumb troll. The invitation that Lulu received was for a secret dinner party. A gastronomic delight. Happening in Paris, New York, and some of the greatest city's as we speak, not everyone could get an invite for this, only the crème de la crème who had proven themselves worthy, or at least rich enough to be included.
Lulu and I had both received an invitation the other night. I told her to prepare for today and not come home until later when the dinner was over, giving me enough time to fly Casper here, internalize self-hate, and make him believe that Lulu was in trouble.
What was this all for? Me playing an awful prank on my brother, partly. Me wanting to get back at Casper for hurting Lulu, a huge part. And me wanting them to just be together, was the answer. The haunted house was a nice touch. I've seen it while researching about the area last night when planning for this prank. We didn't go to the house itself. Like Casper said, they all looked identical. One could be easily confused with the other.
I refuse to tell you how many apologies I had to give with Casper to the host of the party, a famous chef who flew in from London just for this event. I refuse to tell you what my mother said on the phone when she found out that I embarrassed her in front of people she knew, or how my father chuckled on the background because of his undisciplined daughter. I refuse to say how disappointed Casper was in me. That was all water under the bridge.
The important thing was he and Lulu was at the back of my car while I drove us home, flirting in low voices. I had done everything I could to be a good friend, at the cost of what everyone would think of me. Because if you loved someone, you'd do those things and more. I wondered then, if anyone would do the same for me. I pushed the radio button on, drowning the sound of rain hitting the roof of the car, and more importantly, the thoughts of Lynx.
Chapter 27
In as short as a week, drastic changes could take place in a person's life. A good example? Casper and Lulu becoming the it couple of the decade after admitting their love, at least where my life and our social circle were concerned. There was also me being busy inside the study, typing away the data I've gathered so far while trying to collect more survey forms on the internet.
Among all these changes, walking into the Midnight Cafe after what seemed to be a long dry spell was the most glaring. In a span of a week, everything seemed so alien. Let me show you how.
The aroma of coffee when I opened the glass door of the cafe was a perfect way to jumpstart my midnight. Work has been keeping me preoccupied to even consider going here. I ticked off my to-do list. I've managed to type the introductory chapters for my book, tidy up the house, and even squeeze in some light reading earlier. Joe had recommended me a laudable novel entitled, "Love Disorder" about lesbians, saying that it could work for my favor since I was doing a study about them.
I went to the counter, ordered from granny, and turned around to look at the usual customers. The smile on my lips disappeared like wisps of smoke. Something wasn't right. My cynical senses were tingling. It wasn't the ambiance that fazed me, nor the Bossa Nova music playing in the background. The perplexity came from the dead conversation in every table as I looked. Eyes were concentrated on me, silent, blinking, judging.
I raised my brows quizzically to them, then made a pivot to granny behind the counter. She placed a fresh mug of coffee in front of me. "Err, what's going on?" I said, wrapping my fingers on the cup. I sipped while waiting for her reply. Ow! Too hot. I replaced the cup on the saucer and masked a grimace. "So? What did I miss?"
Granny was more interested on getting her record book from the drawer than my dilemma. "Don't look at me," she said, shuffling through pen and scissors. "I'm just th
e barista. If you're going to ask someone, why don't you talk to Lynx? I don't want to get between your problems."
Lynx? Problems? What was she talking about? I murmured my thanks for both the drink and her small attempt at a conversation, and glanced at the reserved table for her favorite customer. I inhaled a deep breath. Lynx wasn't here yet. Well obviously, since I've checked through the windows first before coming inside. I wasn't sure if I'd enter the cafe if she was here. What's my excuse for leaving her house without saying goodbye?
However conflicted I was with her, I didn't shy away from staring back at people who've been giving me offhanded glances. I've had enough of this talking behind my back. I went to a table, grabbed a chair, and joined two girls who fidgeted nervously. "Hello there." I put on a snarky smile. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but the whole lot of you have been gossiping about me the moment I walked in. I know I'm beautiful, but did I offend you or something?" I tossed my hair back.
They glanced at each other. One of them pursed her lips and shook her head. The other girl who was wearing a bonnet and a scarf even in this warm day, leaned to the edge of her seat, as if she wanted to tell me something. She was the girl I wanted. I singled her out. "Do you know something that I don't?" I said. "Spill." She stole a look at her companion. "Granny mentioned something about Lynx," I pressed. "What is it?"
The girl's excitement trickled out of her pores like an invisible sickness. She passed it to me and everyone inside the cafe who had turned to listen. I dragged my chair closer to the table the same time she did, aware that she was on the verge of talking. "She's back," the girl whispered, cupping her hands around her mouth. "She went outside to get a call, but she'll be here soon."