“Buon giorno, Signora. Or, should I say buona sera?” a man’s voice boomed out.
Her fingernails dug into the wood edge of the table. With the small light on above her, she was spotlighted in its glow like an actress on stage, but she could not see the source of the voice in the dark recesses of the parlor.
After a moment of fumbling, she found the switch on the lamp behind her and turned it on. The stained glass panes on its shade cast a faint red, blue, and yellow tinted light a few feet in front of her, but not enough to see clearly into the gloom.
The room looked empty at first. Everything seemed just as she remembered it before—the green velvet sofa and matching chairs, the wood coffee table, the large rectangular Oriental rug, and the heavy burgundy curtains.
Wait...was that a column of gray smoke developing in the center of the room?
Forgetting all of her practiced Bible verses, she screamed.
She prepared for the worst as she imagined a demon with blazing eyes and horns on top of his head. Or, would he appear as the handsome man with flaming coal-like eyes wearing the odd formal wear with a tall black hat?
But, the apparition didn’t materialize.
Instead, the smoke began to form a thin horizontal ribbon. Then, it swirled around the room like a darting water snake. A few times, as she blinked, she thought she saw the form of a man standing before her instead of the agitated mist.
She forced herself to speak again, her voice cracking into high-pitched syllables. “Who are you? What do you want here?”
The deep voice spoke again from the haze that surrounded her. “Mi permetta di presentarmi...io sono AlphonsoGiovanni.”
Her mouth hung agape. What did he say? Is he speaking in tongues?
“Forgive me,” the voice from the smoke said again. “My name is AlponsoGiovanni.”
“Sh...sh...show yourself,” she said with a false boldness.
“I’ll take whatever form I please, and I don’t take orders from others.” The smoke danced as it spoke. “This is my house now. I am the master here.”
In her scrambled frightened mind, she tried to compose a lucid thought. She had to find out more about this boastful apparition then get the hell out of there. “I know you had something to do with Virginia’s death.”
The smoke dissipated and spread throughout the room like a fog, so she did not know where it would concentrate next.
“She was my companion. Why would I want to kill her?”
“Maybe you tired of her. Maybe she got in the way of something you wanted. What do you want with this world, Giovanni?”
A cloud formed over her head. It stank like wet earth and mold. She could feel herself enveloped in its wet mist. A growl emanated from it, “I want everything…”
She held the cross up above her head like a shield. “Our Father who art in Heaven...”
Angered, the smoke gathered itself and began to twist and turn as if it were becoming a rope. It darted downwards and began to wrap around her body.
“Stop!” she cried. “Listen to me...”
But, the spirit continued to coil around her, tightening as it went.
With her heart beating like a rabbit in a wolf’s jaws, she tried to think fast. “Wait! You owe me...”
The spirit paused from his constrictor-like vise that had begun to squeeze her rib cage.
“You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for me. I brought you through...”
The voice shouted loudly and painfully in her ears. “I came through of my own will.”
“No. Without the séance with Virginia and my psychic energy, you wouldn’t have made it.” She hedged her bets. “If you’d been able, you would have come back here long ago.”
“That may be true, but you are hardly in a position to bargain, Signora.”
“Do you really believe that? I could bring reporters from all over the world here with cameras, and it would be a nonstop circus day and night. I could find a reason to have this house condemned and razed. I could even burn it down...”
The rope of smoke tightened again, and the voice hissed like a snake. “Not if I kill you first.”
The spirit held her from her ankles to her shoulders, wrapped like a mummy in transparent gray mist. With the air squeezed from her lungs, she couldn’t scream. Her head grew light, and the room swayed and darkened.
As her eyelids fluttered close, she heard a sound at the front door.
Her captor released his grip, and she collapsed onto the floor gasping for breath.
Chapter 32
Georgia had a throbbing migraine. She excused herself from the remaining mourners at the cemetery and told Marsha that she didn’t think she’d be able to lie down and soothe her aching head at her house with a dozen people coming over for sandwiches and tea after the service.
Her brother-in-law, Steven, offered to drive her over to Grammie’s house, but she refused the offer.
Regretting the dismissal of a chauffeur...she had to drive to the house with her eyes half shut against the sun’s glare, one hand on the steering wheel, and one on her throbbing temples.
When she reached her grandmother’s house, she saw a white Cadillac in the driveway and parked behind it. As she walked by it, she wondered if one of Grammie’s friends was making one last nostalgic trip by the house.
She glanced around the right side of the house towards the garage and gardens, but didn’t see anyone. She knew the visitor couldn’t be inside, because she was sure that she had locked the house.
As she put the key in the lock, she remembered that she also had to find her purse. It must still be sitting on the kitchen table...
She stepped in and noticed the glow of the light from the lamp on the small table in the foyer. Puzzled, she took off her sunglasses and looked around. It took a second for her eyes to adjust to the dim light. When she saw the woman on the floor, she gasped.
She recognized her as the woman in the eggplant suit that she had seen leaving the funeral in a hurry. She was in some sort of distress, as she lay curled into a ball, wheezing and trying to draw in air.
She rushed to the woman’s side. “Ma’am, are you having a heart attack? Should I call 911?”
The woman looked up into her eyes and held out a hand as she shook her head to explain that she would be all right in a moment.
Georgia helped her to a half-sitting position and waited for several minutes as the woman’s breathing slowly regained a normal rhythm.
“We have to get out of here,” the woman rasped as soon as she was able to speak.
“Excuse me? Who are you, and what are you doing in my house?”
The woman’s eyes searched around the room. “Where is he?”
“Who?”
“The spirit. We need to get out of here. He’ll be back. We’re both in danger.”
Georgia wondered if she was as crazy as the woman at the cemetery had insinuated. But, she was curious to hear the explanation for her intrusion.
“It’s a long story. Can we go outside and talk about it?”
“No. My head is killing me, and I can’t handle bright sunlight right now. I’m going to get some water, then you’re going to sit right here and tell me who you are and what you’re doing here.”
The woman nodded as she guided her to the couch. Georgia poured two glasses of water from the kitchen faucet then found her purse on the kitchen table as she kept one eye on the reclining intruder. She swallowed a prescription pill that usually knocked out her headaches within an hour and topped it off with a ‘yellow brick’. Her anxiety level was through the roof, she told herself. She needed it.
When she returned to the living room with the glass of water, the old lady’s hand trembled so violently, she had to set it on the coffee table.
“We really should get out of here,” the woman said as she continued to scan the room from the floor to the ceiling. “We’re not alone.”
“Drink some water...Ms. ...I’m sorry...it’s Opal isn’t it?”
>
“How did you—”
“I saw you at the funeral. Someone told me you’re the resident psychic around here. Is that true?”
“Yes...I suppose so. I’ve been using my gift around here for quite some time. There’s a lot of folks in this town that have need of it.”
“And what gift is that?”
“I’m a bridge. I can make connections with those who have passed on and transmit back messages to loved ones.”
“So...you’re a Medium. I can’t say I believe in all that.”
Opal’s wobbly hand lifted the glass to her lips, spilling a few drops onto her dress. “Your grandmother did.”
“Really? She never mentioned you.”
“That’s not surprising. Most people are too embarrassed to tell anyone that they’ve sought out psychic assistance to contact a dead loved one. VirginiaBlake was no exception. My clients don’t want to deal with the possible ridicule. They just want some relief from their emotional suffering—reassurance that there is an afterlife—and know that their loved one is there safe and waiting for them.
“My grandmother tried to contact...”
“Your grandfather, Henry.”
Georgia thought for a moment. Grammie rarely even spoke of her Grandfather except around holidays when it seemed more difficult to hide her loneliness. But, she couldn’t deny the possibility that she had reached out to a psychic to try to contact him. Why not? If you were old and lonely and not that many years from passing on yourself—why not take a chance and see if there was any truth to be found from the other side? She decided to play along for the moment. “So what happened? Did you actually contact my grandfather?”
Opal Peabody tensed. Her hand gripped the water glass so tightly that her knuckles turned white, and Georgia thought it might shatter.
“No. I didn’t. We held a séance with nothing out of the ordinary at first. I called for him...but I couldn’t find him. And then, something terrible happened.”
Georgia sat on the edge of the coffee table as the woman braced herself on the arm of the couch as if she expected the roof to cave in or an earthquake to move the floor below them. “Go on...”
Opal leaned forward and whispered, “It’s never happened in all of my days. I mean...I couldn’t stop him. He was just so strong...” She took another sip of water with her trembling hand.
“Who?”
“The intruder. The spirit. He blasted through the portal... and manifested himself here. There was nothing I could do.”
Then, her words began to pour out so fast that Georgia could barely keep up.
“I don’t know who he is, but he’s definitely someone from way back. Looking at his clothes...a gentleman of some sort... and he spoke another language...Italian...I think. But, ohhhh...he’s got a dark soul. He attacked me. Tried to kill me! Thank God you came when you did.”
Georgia tried to make sense of what she was saying. She seemed to passionately believe her story, but it was so nonsensical that she didn’t know if she should press her for more details or just nod and give her The Smile. “Why did you come here today and how did you get in?”
“I came to confront him. I had to see what I was dealing with to see if I could send him back. I didn’t mean to trespass. But, you certainly wouldn’t have let me in after hearing this story, would you? The door was unlocked.”
Georgia knew she was lying. Maybe, she had found her pie thief and squatter after all. This woman had come back to steal.
“This spirit is very dangerous. I’m going to have to find a way to get rid of him before he does more harm...”
“Really? And who is this spirit?”
“Alphonso. He said his name was AlphonsoGiovanni.”
Georgia swallowed a gulp of water down the wrong pipe and began to cough. When she recovered, she said, “Alphonso? My grandmother said in a letter to take care of Alphonso. I have no idea what she meant.”
“She meant to get rid of the spirit. Poor Virginia. What she must have gone through for two months with that monster! I think he held her captive here. She wouldn’t even talk to me—I don’t think he would let her.”
Georgia wondered if Opal Peabody had put ideas into her grandmother’s head about the house being haunted then bilked her for money to get rid of the ghost. Now, she was trying to do the same to her. “Peabody...I have an idea. Why don’t you call him right now? Make him appear. When I see him, I’ll believe you.”
Opal took off her glasses and rubbed them on the hem of her dress. “I don’t think that would be a good idea. We really should get out of here.”
“Or...I could call the police and tell them I’ve caught a burglar in my house. It would make front-page news in the Dalton County Sentinel that a little old lady is responsible for the break-ins around town.
Opal sat still and narrowed her eyes as if weighing her options. “Alright. I’ll try...maybe I can make him mad enough to show himself. But, I’m warning you...our lives are in danger even as we speak.”
Georgia leaned back in her chair with her arms folded and legs crossed as the woman called out the ghost’s name. After several futile tries, she cursed at him and called him filthy names that Georgia hadn’t heard since witnessing a trucker’s strike. As they glanced around the room...there was nothing but silence. The grandfather clock continued to click out the seconds, and there was a soft whisper of wind picking up outside...but that was all.
“Apparently, your ghost isn’t in the mood to show himself.”
“He’s here alright. He’s probably watching us right now and waiting to strike.” Opal pushed herself up from the couch and grabbed a hold of Georgia’s arm. “Listen to me...I’m not fooling around here. We are not alone in this house. If you ignore my warning and stay here...I can’t be responsible for what happens to you.”
“Are you threatening me, Peabody? I suppose for a certain fee, you can rid the house of this spirit?”
“No. I’m just trying to make you understand the danger you are in. This spirit must be exorcised from this house...or no one is safe here.”
“And what would you charge to perform this sort of service?”
“Oh, dear. Not a cent. You see...this is all my fault. But, I’ve been doing some research, and I may not be able to do this alone. I may have to call in some others.”
And how much would they charge? Georgia wondered. She fine-tuned her theory about the woman’s scheme. Opal Peabody had a ruse. She pretended to speak with dead loved ones then told her clients that an evil spirit had come through by mistake. Of course, it would take more money to perform rituals to rid the person of this new spiritual infestation. It was a great gimmick —one that could be performed over and over—even in a small town—because nobody would talk about it. She had heard of similar scams happening in other cities around the country. Poor Grammie must have been afraid that some wicked old Italian ghost was haunting her home. Opal had been extorting her for money to perform rituals to get rid of him...and they never seemed to work. Now...she was trying to play the granddaughter as well.
“Get out, Peabody. I’ve heard enough.”
Opal rose on unsteady legs and shook her fist. ”You don’t understand. You’re in danger...”
“No. You’re in danger if you don’t leave at once, and I don’t want to catch you in my house or anywhere around this property again.” Georgia gestured toward the open door.
With a huff, Opal hobbled toward it. “You’re going to be sorry.” She wagged a finger. “Mark my words.”
“Not as sorry as you’re going to be if I call the police.”
Opal paused a few inches away from Georgia’s face. With the size of her eyes magnified under the round black rims of her glasses, Georgia thought they looked crazed and psychotic. The intense fury in those giant blue marbles was disturbing.
After fumbling in the pocket of her purple suit, Opal pulled out a business card. “When you realize that I’ve been telling the truth...call me. I just hope it won’t be too la
te. Apparently, your grandmother didn’t have the sense to do so earlier...” She thrust the card into Georgia’s hand.
Georgia accepted the card, but she bit her tongue at the caustic words about her grandmother. As she opened the door further for Opal to pass through and saw her shaky gait, she asked, “Are you sure you’re alright to drive?”
But, Opal ignored her and hobbled out. Georgia watched as she made her way to the Cadillac then maneuvered it around her rental car to get out of the driveway in a hurry. She sped away, leaving a puff of dust settling over the gravel like a volcanic plume of her rage.
She closed the door and leaned against it, closing her eyes and exhaling out some of her own anger. She now had the answer to the question of who had been in the house recently since her grandmother had died. The psychic had probably been looking for anything of value...or trying to figure out ways to play the family for more money. She looked down at the gray and white card in her hand with a silver moon and stars logo in the upper left corner, it read:
Opal Peabody
Psychic counsel *** Tarot *** Astrology *** Numerology
Ph. 809-496-2849
As she tossed it onto the table in the foyer, she massaged her temples with her other hand. Her head still throbbed, but she could feel the yellow brick starting to work its magic fingers, soothing away some of the stress.
Knowing that a short nap would probably make her feel human again, she decided to go upstairs and lie down in her old bedroom.
As she kicked off her heels and relaxed back amongst the ruffles and pillows on the twin bed, she thought about the psychic’s accusations that she was in danger. It seemed like such a ridiculous idea. There was no ghost here. Well...she was fairly certain of that. She thought about the odd shadow that she had seen on the kitchen wall and the cat’s reaction to it. Whatever that was...she hadn’t felt anything threatening from it. If there was any truth to the possibility of spirits, perhaps it was just a lingering wisp of her grandmother’s presence.
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