Mind Fray

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Mind Fray Page 8

by Alexie Aaron


  The major took the paper and balled it up. He strode to the stove and lit it with the gas flame. He tossed it in the sink, and the three of us watched as the paper burned harmlessly there. No one spoke until the handbill had turned to ash.

  “There, that’s that. We’ll see no more of mother or whatever guise the brute disguises himself as,” the major pronounced.

  Eddie Brown looked at me from behind the major. Michelle grabbed my hand before she swooned, the words “God save us,” barely leaving her lips. I turned to catch her, and I laid her on the floor before turning back to face this thing that probed our minds and found our greatest fears to use against us.

  Eddie Brown was but a boy with his fists permanently balled. As a child, he beat on me every chance he got. I was an adult, yet I still almost lost my water when I gazed upon his challenging face.

  “Mother, forgive me. I had to leave you,” the major said. “I don’t deserve to live.”

  “Vern, this is not your mother!” I shouted. “It’s a cruel mind trick.”

  I wish I could tell you the major snapped out of it. I wish that I could have seen the paring knife he took from the counter or stopped him before he stabbed himself over and over until he fell to the ground. But all I could do was stand there while Eddie Brown looked at me.

  The knife was not a large one, and the major survived the wounds. But unfortunately, his mind was gone. After installing her husband in the county insane asylum, Michelle Fletcher fled with me to Connecticut. Never to return to that house of doom again.

  Author’s Notes

  I came across Henry York in the Danbury Connecticut Convalescent Home. I had gotten his name from an old chum of mine who was a nurse there. She had spent some time with the captain who had developed tuberculosis. He had told her about the incident at the Fletcher home. She wrote to me in Chicago, entreating me to journey to Danbury, thinking his story would make a good book.

  Henry York was all too pleased to recount his adventures. I found Michelle Fletcher still living in Captain York’s home, but she had declined my request to interview her about what happened that fateful evening.

  Back in Illinois, I went to the location of the home only to find that it had been burned to the ground. Upon further investigation, I found a small article in the paper about the blaze. The abandoned home was reported to be a magnet for the itinerants from the near rail yard. One evening, after a lot of shouting and liquor drank, the men must have neglected the fireplace, and a log could have rolled out, setting the place afire. All of the squatters survived the blaze. I have not as yet located any of them.

  Major Vern Fletcher died of an unbalanced mind. According to one of the orderlies that would speak to me, the major wrapped a sheet around his throat, attaching it to the metal headboard, and lunged out of bed, breaking his neck.

  As to what was written on the fated handbill, I can only guess.

  Mildred Styles

  Chapter Eight

  “The House of Doom didn’t make the bestsellers list, I gather,” Mike said, setting the booklet down.

  “I’m sure it sold a few copies. But whether we can count on Captain York’s tale is another matter,” Burt cautioned.

  Cid looked up and regarded the team leaders with a little disgust. “This is someone’s life’s work. It’s hard to write a book.”

  “She didn’t exactly write a book,” Mike argued. “She simply took his story, threw in some adverbs, and plopped her name on the cover.”

  “Gentlemen, I think you’re missing the point here,” Mia said. “Through Audrey’s tenacious research, she has unearthed the probable cause for what has been going on at the Madisons’ home. Plus, it’s given us a way to combat the entity that seems to have lingered on the property even though the houses were destroyed.”

  The team looked at her oddly. Mia opened up the booklet and read, “I got up, picked up the skillet and waved it at him. He disappeared.” She tapped the page and spoke, “You see, it was the iron of the frying pan that did the job. With the Madisons, it was the bath salts spilling into the bathtub that saved them from the entity. It has the same weaknesses as a ghost, so I’d say it is one.”

  “But how did it get into the minds of its victims?” Burt asked.

  “I think that if we can somehow determine what was on that handbill, we will have our answers. If I were to guess, perhaps the ghost was a powerful sensitive, a mind reader, before he died. Audrey, look at carnival acts or maybe variety shows featuring psychics and mediums in Chicago. He’d have the title Doctor something or Who’s-it the Magnificent,” she suggested.

  “How can it still be there?” Cid asked the group. “Whether it was the wardrobe that held the essence of the ghost or the handbill itself, the handbill was burnt, according to this book. And if there was a fire, then I can only assume the wood wardrobe burned along with the house. How is this thing surviving?”

  Mia and Burt looked at each other hoping one of them had the answer. Mia shook her head, and Burt shrugged his shoulders.

  “I’ll call Father Santos to see if he has ever come across anything like this,” Mia volunteered. “My gut says it’s not a demon, but since I don’t have the answer, we shouldn’t rule it out. I’d like to point out something. There’s a major difference between what happened to me and the Madisons, and what went on in the Fletcher house. It only manifested according to Mildred Styles’s book. It attacked me physically. I think that, given the time, it would have hurt Kim Madison and her husband too. What I’m worried about is this, what has changed to give this entity this much power?”

  The silence in the room gave testament to the gravity of the problem.

  “It seems to me that we’ve encountered things that have had no explanation before,” Burt said. “We found the answers. Maybe some other paranormal group has encountered this type of entity. I’ll reach out to our ghost hunting community to see if there are any of their experiences we can draw from.”

  Ted looked over at the main computer monitor and caught the image of a tiny cartoon librarian walking across the screen. It tore pages out of a book as it proceeded. Ted cleared his voice and asked, “Would you be opposed to Jake doing a search on the internet? He could examine rumor and fact quicker than we could load the websites.”

  “No. I have no problem. As long as he stays out of governmental databanks,” Burt qualified.

  “You heard the man,” Ted said. “Find us some breadcrumbs to follow.”

  The librarian dropped her book and snapped to attention. Music from a Bridge too Far played for the time it took the tiny cartoon to exit the screen.

  “I will never get used to that,” Burt admitted, shaking his head. “So, folks, the Madison house is off limits to Mia, for obvious reasons. No one enters without Stephen Murphy at their side, and only after equipping ourselves with some serious protection.”

  “I’ll work on putting together a few more iron vests,” Cid offered, referring to the crocheted garment made with tiny iron and silver rings held together by cotton yarn.

  “I’ll help,” Mia said.

  Cid looked at her with an exaggerated lifted eyebrow.

  “What?”

  “I didn’t know you could crochet or knit,” he answered.

  “Cid Garrett, there are a lot of things you don’t know about me. It just so happens, I can knit and crochet. I just choose not to.”

  Ted, who was surprised by this, turned around and studied his wife’s face, looking to see if she was lying.

  “Not you too,” Mia said with disgust. “Honestly, Ralph sat me down when I was twelve and taught me all the feminine arts. There were a lot of tears, his not mine, but I did learn how to do more than make a giant knot. Ask him if you don’t believe me.” Mia sat back and crossed her arms.

  “Well, well, so Mia’s a domestic diva. If I had known this, I would have snapped her up before the two of you goofs got to her,” Mike said. “Mia, I can just picture you in the kitchen of Ma’s farm in a gingham apron
, barefoot and well…”

  Mia flashed Mike a go-to-hell look.

  Audrey cleared her voice. “I assume the meeting is adjourned.”

  Burt snapped out of the list of the thousand tortures he was going to put Mike through and said, “Yes, meeting is adjourned.”

  Mike made it as far as the parking lot before his feet became entangled in what could only be assumed to be a carelessly left garden hose. He tripped and ended up head first in a pile of a peat moss and manure combo waiting to be spread on the parking lot’s perimeter plants. His landing was soft, but the pile had been sitting in the sunshine for a few hours. The odor was eye-watering. He howled in disgust.

  Ted, Cid and Burt exited the office to see who was causing all the noise.

  Murphy took the heat for the prank. Murphy looked over to the farmhouse porch at Mia who was trying not to make eye contact with the ghost.

  Ted looked from one to the other, puzzled by what was going on.

  “Barefoot and pregnant indeed,” Mia muttered as she placed a hand to the small of her back and walked into the house.

  ~

  Mia was surprised by the suggestion Father Santos made.

  “Ralph, you’ve got to be kidding.”

  “Mia, your Ralph has the biggest handbill, playbill collection in the Midwest. His may rival what’s-his-name’s collection in New York. I’d check with Ralph first. If he doesn’t have it, he could give you an introduction to his competitor in the Big Apple.”

  “Well, I’m going to call him next. Have you’ve given any further thought to what we may be dealing with?”

  “Without seeing it, I can’t be sure. It sounds like a ghost, but the mind control bit I haven’t come across yet. I’ll run it by Angelo and get back to you. You’re not going in there again are you?”

  “Nope, have to protect the next tech genius of this little blue planet,” Mia assured him. “I feel a bit, well, impotent.”

  Father Santos roared with laughter. Mia was surprised. In all of the time they had been acquainted, she rarely heard the priest laugh so robustly.

  “Oh, Mia, you are a joy. Do you want me to check out the Madisons’ house?”

  “Actually, I’m going to advise you not to.”

  “Do you mind telling me why?”

  “This thing pulls nightmares out of your head. Mine, I had buried so deep that I didn’t remember the event happening at first. You’ve been awful close to the Darkworld, my dear friend; who knows what baggage you’re carrying.”

  “Very well. I will, however, visit Kim Madison in the hospital. Let me see if I can ease her mind a bit.”

  “I’d appreciate that, Father.”

  “Mia…”

  “Yes?”

  “I want to make sure you know how proud I am of you.”

  Mia felt tears spring to her eyes. She sniffed and asked, “Thank you, Father, although I’m not sure why?”

  “Oh, I think you know. In the last few months, after the deer-woman incident, I’ve been examining my past actions and my reactions. I think that, even though I’m convinced my dogma is still the best way to communicate with the next world, I am beginning to see that there is much I can learn from others, Father Alessandro for one example and you and your PEEPs for another. Angelo too has sat at my fire and talked about perhaps changing his… well… methods.”

  “Now you’ve given me goose bumps.”

  “Go put on a sweater and give Ralph a call. I’ll get back to you as soon as I learn anything or even if I don’t. Take care of your child and that nerdy husband of yours.”

  “I will. Goodbye,” Mia said. She pocketed her phone and sat back and thought.

  Ted found her sitting, staring into space with her booted feet propped up on the kitchen table. He stared at her awhile. It wasn’t often Mia stood or sat still long enough to get a good look at her. Pregnancy certainly hadn’t diminished her looks. The sharpness of her face had rounded slightly, and she looked healthy. Ted couldn’t get over the change in her eyes. They used to be soft, moss green, but lately the amber tones that had showed up around the time they investigated the burlesque house had deepened, making her eyes almost cat-green. The realization hit him. “Mia Cooper Martin, you used telepathy to trip Mike, didn’t you?”

  He watched as a slick smile tweaked at the corners of her mouth. She slowly turned her eyes on him. He saw the amber sparkle. “Sorry, I just couldn’t let him get away with the whole apron thing.”

  Ted wanted to caution her, but he had seen how much she had limited herself for the gestation of their child. He made a choice then and there to not say anything.

  Mia angled her head. “You’re not going to yell at me?”

  “No, I figure you know what’s best. Just be careful. Run it by Judy next time you see her. By the way, you’ve still got to go and see an OBGYN. Doctor Walters is an Emergency physician not a baby doctor,” he reminded her.

  “I know, it’s just that I trust him.”

  “Well then, let him find you a doctor who he trusts,” Ted said. “Oh, and you better get your feet off the table. Cid is on his way in here.”

  Mia snapped her feet down and sat with her hands folded.

  Cid walked into the kitchen, took in the innocent school girl manner and said, “And you let Murphy take the heat. You should be ashamed.”

  Ted hid his smile behind the mug of coffee he picked up.

  “How’d you know it was me?” Mia asked.

  “The hose was hot. I’m surprised it didn’t catch fire,” Cid remarked.

  “I think it’s because it had water in it,” Mia theorized.

  “Mike’s in my shower trying to get the manure stink off,” Cid informed her.

  “Well, he shouldn’t say such shitty things,” Mia said dryly.

  “My dear, you’re so scatological today,” Ted observed.

  “It’s kind of a crappy day,” Mia said.

  “I thought you looked rather pooped,” Ted countered.

  “It beats me, I’m just not my regular self…”

  “Stop!” Cid shouted, holding his head. “Please stop, I just can’t put up with the two of you today. You’re giving me a migraine.”

  “Whoa, our wife has a headache,” Mia said looking at Ted.

  Cid, who was used to the wife reference, ignored it and confessed, “It’s just that I think I took on too much. The extension is behind. The window manufacturer is giving me the runaround, and the iron vests...” Cid stopped talking and raised his hands.

  “Tell you what, Sunshine,” Mia started. “I’m going to visit Ralph. Why don’t you gather the materials, and the three of us can knock out the vests in an afternoon? We could sit and enjoy the view of the lake, Ralph’s scones, and Bernard’s expensive coffee while we crouch shit.”

  “Crochet, Mia, crochet,” Cid reprimanded. He looked at her rolling her eyes and sighed. “You’re just teasing, aren’t you?”

  “Just trying to lighten your mood. Now, how can I be of help with the window manufacturer?”

  Ted left the two to sort out Cid’s problems. He wandered outside and sat on the front porch. It didn’t take long before Murphy showed up.

  “You took one for the team,” Ted said, lifting his mug in salute.

  Murphy smacked his knee, his eyes dancing.

  “Yes, it was pretty funny. I guess the dude deserved it. You know he was just poking at Mia. Pushing her buttons.”

  “Mia pushed back,” Murphy said with a look of pride on his face.

  “You’re a bad example.”

  “Perhaps.”

  The two of them sat in companionable silence and watched Mike exit Cid’s apartment dressed in PEEPs sweats. He had a garbage bag with him. Ted assumed it held his clothing. He looked down at the steps suspiciously before descending.

  “Looks like he’s a bit nervous,” Ted observed.

  “Looks like,” Murphy responded.

  Mike ran to his car, popped the trunk open, and tossed the bag inside before gett
ing in his vehicle. If there had been gravel, Mike’s tires would have spun at the speed he left the parking lot. He didn’t bother waving as he passed Ted. He just beat feet to Chicago.

  Burt exited the office and wandered over to the porch.

  “Want some coffee? There’s fresh brewed inside,” Ted offered.

  “No, I’ve drank so much, I’m swishing when I walk,” Burt admitted.

  “Have a seat. You look like a man with something on his mind,” Ted observed.

  Burt took a seat in the rocker and took a moment to enjoy the calming effects of the chair before speaking, “I think we’re in trouble with this investigation.”

  “If it’s the money, Mia and I are covering the expenses,” Ted reminded him.

  “No, it’s not that. But I do appreciate you stepping up. The coffers aren’t empty, but there is more echo to the vault than there used to be.”

  “Come on, we used to be a one camera operation,” Ted reminded him. “So if it’s not money, then what’s bothering you?”

  “It’s not the challenge of this haunt, but I feel there is a different dynamic developing with the team.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “At first I thought it was Mia’s pregnancy, but we can move forward with her safe in the command vehicle with you. I think it’s Cid and Audrey.”

  Ted sat up and looked at Burt.

  “Cid’s mind isn’t on his work, and Audrey can’t wait to leave the meeting. She was the last to arrive and the first to leave.”

  “The two of them have lives to attend to,” Ted suggested. “Remember that PEEPs isn’t the end all to everyone as it is for you. Mike’s got a life in the city. Mia and I are starting a family. I think it’s time for Cid and Audrey to stretch their wings too.”

  “I hope they don’t fly away,” Burt said.

  “Maybe you need to plan on giving them some incentives to stay,” Ted suggested. “And, sorry for you to hear this from me, but you, sir, need to find something concrete to hang onto before the business eats you up.”

 

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