by Alexie Aaron
“Whatever the reason,” Ted continued, “handing the paper to the target could possibly enslave them.”
“By giving them nightmares?” Mia asked, not buying the theory.
“Think about it. If you could remind someone of a trauma, let’s say, where a German was involved, would you vote to stay out of World War One?” Ted asked.
“I get your point,” Mia conceded. “But I think this also could just be a failed attempt at mass hypnosis, a theatrical stunt gone haywire.”
Burt looked at Mia seriously and nodded. “Go on.”
“Let’s say there wasn’t a big conspiracy, just a performer looking to perform the biggest trick of his life. He uses the dark secrets and powers of his family, in particular his dead cousin, whom I assure you he would have been in contact with if Gabor was worth his salt. But something went wrong.”
“Either way, we have Cezar Gabor on the loose in the burbs,” Mike said, looking over at the house. “What does he want?”
“Depends on his state of mind,” Mia said. She turned to Murphy and asked, “I suppose you want to talk to him?”
Stephen looked at Mia, a bit surprised at her knowing what was on his mind. He nodded.
“Be aware that he may be a madman… er… ghost.”
Murphy nodded again.
“He may not understand you. He’s Romanian,” Mia specified.
Murphy nodded a third time.
Mia turned to Burt and asked, “What do you think of Murphy trying to communicate with Cezar?”
“Me, I don’t have any other idea. Anyone?” he asked, looking around the table. He was greeted with blank faces. “I say, what do we have to lose?”
“Murphy for one,” Mia said. “Strong entities have been known to enslave weaker ones.” Mia didn’t make eye contact with Murphy; she knew she’d angered him with her statement of facts.
“I could beef him up,” Ted offered. “I’d bet a fully energized Stephen Murphy against a hoard of Romanians.”
“It’s still a risk. I vote no,” Mia said.
“Let’s put it to the table,” Burt said. “How many for Murphy going in and trying to communicate with Cezar?”
Mia frowned as Cid, Ted, Burt and Audrey raised their hands.
“Against.”
Mike and Mia raised theirs.
“The ayes have it,” Burt said. “Stephen, see Ted before you go in there, and be careful.”
Mia looked at Murphy long and hard. She had to accept that she didn’t own him. Her husband thought that he’d be alright in there, perhaps it was the present emotional wave she was riding that gave her a bad feeling about this plan. But why then had Mike voted against the plan too? “Good luck,” she said.
He nodded and waited to be let out of the salt ring.
Chapter Fourteen
Kim shuffled into Irma’s room. The slippers her husband bought for her were too large but were much more comfortable than the tacky socks the hospital supplied. Kim was scheduled to be released this afternoon after the resident psychologist signed off on her case. Was Kim ready to face the world? No. But their insurance plan was going to stop kicking in its support soon, and the Madisons couldn’t afford the cost of a hospital room. Dr. Henley had come in to see her and promised to talk to the resident doctor. She gave him permission to discuss her case. She didn’t want to do it herself.
The older woman was lying curled up on her left side. If it wasn’t for the IV, she imagined that Irma would have buried herself under the covers. Kim dragged the chair from the corner and sat down so she would be level with Irma’s face.
“Irma, it’s Kim,” she began. “Open your eyes. I won’t hurt you.”
The woman on the bed squeezed her eyes tighter.
“Come on, I assure you that there isn’t anything in this room that will hurt you.”
Irma opened her eyes quickly, taking in the pale young woman before her. She closed them again, but Kim could see the tension around them had lessened.
“I ruined your new coat,” Irma said so softly that if Kim hadn’t been looking at her face, she would have heard something completely different. “I’m a little thief.”
“Playing dress up isn’t stealing,” Kim said. “I used to do it all the time when I babysat. It’s more of a compulsion than a crime. Anyways, that’s what my doctor says.”
“Don’t go home, Kim,” Irma pleaded.
“I’m not. My mother and stepfather have opened their home to us until we can figure this thing out. Max says PEEPs are there guarding the house so this won’t happen to anyone else,” Kim assured the woman.
“Are you going to sell the house?” Irma asked.
“I doubt we can. We can’t foist this problem on someone else. We can’t afford to buy another house. I suppose we’re headed for bankruptcy. I… I… can’t think of it right now.”
“You could fight it,” suggested an accented voice from the doorway.
Kim looked over and saw a handsome older man dressed in the uniform of a Catholic priest.
Irma closed her eyes tightly and burrowed further under the covers.
“I’m sorry for disturbing you. A friend of mine works for the paranormal group who is helping you out. She thought I may be able to help you. I’m Father Santos.”
Kim put a hand on the edge of the bed and stood up nervously. “I’m not religious, sir.”
“I’m not offended,” Santos said smiling. “My faith allows me to do what I love to do.”
“And that is…”
“Help people with problems, mostly of the paranormal nature. You only have to believe in a higher power to find comfort in my words. Also, you have to believe in yourself,” he said quickly. “May I come in?”
Kim bent down and asked Irma, “A priest would like to come in and talk to us? He seems okay,” Kim added.
Father Santos pondered what okay was in the young woman’s mind as he stood patiently in the doorway.
Irma opened her eyes and said hoarsely, “He’ll send me to hell. I’m a little thief.”
“Jesus forgave the thief,” Santos said softly. “And I haven’t sent anyone to hell in some time. It’s above my pay grade.”
A smile twitched the corners of Kim’s mouth. She lowered her head so she was on the level of Irma’s and asked, “Why not take a chance? I forgave you for stealing my coat. I’d say you’re in the clear.”
Irma nodded.
Kim looked up. “Sir, you can come in.”
Santos nodded and walked over. Kim offered him her chair, but he declined. “At my age, getting up and down is more tiring than standing,” he explained. “I was on my way to see you, Kim, when I found out about Irma. As I said, my area of expertise is the paranormal world. Sometimes it enters our world and, in your two cases, causes a big ruckus.”
“Sir, I don’t know what to call you?” Kim admitted.
“Father is fine. Sir is very formal, I think,” he said smiling.
“Father, why is it picking on me? Did I do something wrong? When I was a young girl…” Kim went on to explain what had happened with her, the peeping Tom neighbor and her father.
After hearing her story, he shook his head slowly. “Kim, what happened to you is a crime. You need to release it from your mind. I know it’s hard. If you can forgive the neighbor – no, you don’t have to do it personally,” he quickly added and continued, “If you can forgive that man for his weakness, you may find the area of your being that held on to this bitterness will abate. And in doing so, your heart and mind will open up, and you will find so much room there. Fill it with happy things. It can’t hurt you anymore.”
“What about me, Father?” Irma said, pushing herself up.
Kim helped raise the back of her bed so Irma could see the priest.
“Do you feel comfortable talking about what happened to you?”
“I can leave,” Kim offered. “To give you privacy,” she explained.
“No! Please stay here. I need you.”
Kim was surprised by this. She didn’t think the older woman liked her much. She knew that Irma had a little crush on Max. Who wouldn’t? He was everything a woman of any age would want, caring, strong and handsome.
“I need you to hear this. It will help you to understand why I deserved the punishment that thing gave me.”
“Irma,” Santos said, approaching the bed. “You didn’t do anything to deserve what happened to you. The entity was looking for a weakness and found yours. Why not tell us what happened all those years ago? It may free you from its hold.”
“When I was eight, the carnival came to town. It did every year in the late summer. My brother, who was ten at the time, begged my parents to let us go by ourselves. He promised to look after me. You see, Kim, in those days parents didn’t worry about stranger danger like they do now,” she explained. “They said we could go and put my brother in charge of the small sum they managed to put together between them. Times were hard, but I suspect my parents were saving to take us to the carnival themselves. By having us go by ourselves, it would save two entrance fees. I remember the bright lights and the horrors of the sideshow. After, my brother and I were at cross purposes. I wanted to watch people play the games. I thought I would try my luck at the floating ducks. I dreamed of winning a stuffed animal to bring home. My brother was entranced by the fact that he was tall enough to ride most of the rides. He gave me a few quarters for the duck game and left me at the entrance to the gaming area.”
Kim watched the lines of Irma’s face soften as the little girl came out. She described picking up her three ducks. She didn’t win, but she had fun all the same. When Irma came to the ball toss, her face clouded over again.
“There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t scold myself for being so stupid,” Irma confessed. “As an adult, I can see the trap the barker had laid for me. As a child, he seemed like a nice person. My brother would have paid him for those two tries…” Irma broke off. Sweat beaded on her forehead.
“You don’t have to tell us anymore,” Santos volunteered. “Although, I suspect you would feel better.”
Irma nodded. She accepted the hand Kim gave her and held on tight. “When I was in the basement and heard his voice calling out, ‘Two tries for a dollar,’ it sent me back there. There was no basement anymore. I saw the carnival as real as you are standing there!”
Kim and Santos listened to her tale. Kim was horrified by what happened to little Irma.
“He called me a little thief, but I swear I was going to have my brother pay him. I swear it on my mother’s grave.”
“I believe you,” Santos said. “Is there more?”
“We got out of there and ran all the way home. I wanted to tell my parents so they could call the cops, but my brother was adamant we keep it quiet. You see, he didn’t want to get into trouble for leaving me. He said, ‘Irma, you deserved what happened because you’re a little thief. I won’t tell on you, but you have to keep your mouth shut!’”
“That horrible little boy,” Kim cried. “You poor dear.”
Irma burst into tears. She sobbed in mental anguish. Kim slid into bed bedside her and held her while she cried.
“Irma, listen to me,” Father Santos said, getting her attention, and then continuing, “You did nothing wrong. You weren’t a thief. You did not deserve the barker’s treatment, no one does. You need to forgive your brother for being a coward. You need to forgive the weakness of that man and pray that he was stopped. In doing so, you’ll free yourself from not only the compulsion to take things, but the nightmares too.”
Irma sniffed.
Kim cleared her voice and spoke, “Dr. Henley talks about how we punish ourselves over things we can’t control. I have to let go of the guilt I had over putting my father in such a tizzy. I’m not sure I overreacted. I don’t think so, but perhaps he did. The guilt, Irma, it’s the guilt that hurts us. We can control that,” Kim assured her.
Father Santos nodded his head. He felt that these women were well on their way to healing. The universe worked in mysterious ways. Could this entity have actually caused a healing? Or was it a coincidence? He would have to discuss this with Father Alessandro the next time they met.
“Father Santos,” Kim asked. “Why did the ghost in my house use our bad memories against us?”
“It could be using it as a weapon. I don’t know. What I do know is, there is a team of people working very hard to figure this out. Give them time. It’s a puzzle that hasn’t been solved before,” he admitted.
~
Murphy stood looking at the house. He could have just penetrated the building by walking through a wall or window. Instead, he chose to act as if he had none of these powers. He walked up to the door and tapped on it with the blunt side of his axe.
No one was more surprised than Murphy when the door opened. It swung inwards displaying, in all his sick glory, Morris Steele. Murphy studied the visage before him. He looked at the man who stole his wife and killed him, with restraint.
Murphy was warned about the entity’s mind reading abilities. He, however, hadn’t imagined that a ghost’s mind could be read. Mia had told him the story of Mary Albertson and her husband. How they simply didn’t react to the entity beyond a courteous nod of their heads as they passed it. He thought it was worth a try.
Morris raised an eyebrow. “Come in, Stephen, I’ve been waiting for you.”
Steele’s voice was just as Murphy remembered it. He tried too late to close his mind. The man before him laughed.
“The garden gate should have been closed long before you attempted this journey. How is that wife of yours?”
Murphy refused to rise to the bait. Instead he took off his hat in respect to the house. He tucked it in a pocket, picked up his axe and walked in. Curly followed him into the house.
“What is that thing?” Steele asked him.
“A toy.”
“It has no mind,” Steele observed.
“Why would a toy need a mind?” Murphy asked.
“It moves like it has a mind.”
“It’s a toy,” Murphy repeated.
“Why aren’t you afraid of me, Stephen?”
“I’m dead, you?”
“Dead,” Steele answered.
“Why are you here?”
“Ah, that’s why you’re here. It seems to me, that’s my business, Stephen.”
“Do you need help?”
The entity laughed. “Why? Are you offering?”
“It depends on what you need help with.”
“Would world domination be too much?”
It was Murphy’s turn to laugh. “The people who live in this house are concerned.”
“Ah, the Madisons. She’s all twisted up inside. He’s a blank slate. The cat annoys me.”
“Cats annoy everyone,” Murphy stated. “It’s how they exert their power.”
“I take it you’re a dog person,” Steele said bored.
“Who are you?” Murphy asked.
“Who do I look like?”
Murphy smiled and said, “Cezar Gabor.”
Morris Steele twisted and reformed. Before Murphy stood Chastity, his wife.
“Cezar Gabor,” Murphy said again.
This time Chastity’s skin peeled away horribly, and Murphy’s mother stood before him.
“I’m sorry, Cezar, but you’re wasting your time. I’ve come here as a gentleman to ask if you need assistance. You know, one ghost to another. And you just stand there. Could be you’re trapped. Powerless…”
The entity twisted and bubbled until it was just a mass of grey smoke. It rushed at Murphy, catching him unprepared. It moved around him quickly, sucking up his energy. Murphy dropped his axe and, in doing so, lost any connection he had with gravity. He began to float helplessly. It reminded him of what had happened in the woods. The entity stopped and moved away. Why didn’t it finish him? If it did, surely Murphy would end up at the farm. He would recharge and come back. It finally dawned on him. That is exac
tly what Cezar didn’t want.
“Aren’t you scared, farmer?” the entity asked, reforming into Steele.
Murphy noticed the voice was no longer Steele’s, although it was similar in that it was strangely accented.
Stephen kept calm. He knew that fear would feed this thing faster than his energy did. So Murphy just hung there and drifted along with the dust bunnies. He watched as the drafty house pushed him down the hall to where Curly was waiting. Curly extended his body and directed a surge of electricity into him.
Cezar tried unsuccessfully to pick up the farmer’s axe. He didn’t understand the principals of ghostly attachments. He was all cerebral. He didn’t have a large enough grasp on the physical. Sure, he could move bedding, scratch at a door, turn off a switch or two, and even toss a cat when he was peeved, but his real strength was the power of the mind. He lost interest, moved back through the kitchen and down the stairs where he was closest to his power source. He closed the door and stayed there, momentarily puzzled by the double click that sounded. No, it couldn’t be! He opened the door and rushed through the kitchen and into the foyer where he just missed the door shutting again and the whirl of a toy moving down the sidewalk dragging a spectral axe.
Mia, who had been observing via Curly the whole adventure, dropped her headset and exited the trailer with great haste. Cid was waiting for her, armed with several energon cubes.
Ted maneuvered Curly to a sheltered spot. Cid dropped the first energon cube while Mia willed her hands to move Murphy’s axe into place. Connected to the axe was the spectral image of Stephen Murphy. As the energy flowed into him from the axe head, Murphy filled out and became more opaque.
Mia nodded at Cid when he said, “One more.”
Mia waited until Murphy was more himself before saying, “Told you so.” She turned heel and walked off.
Ted followed Mia with Curly’s cameras. She was a force of beauty, brains and spite, in four spectrums. He sighed.
Mia climbed back into the trailer and picked up her headset.
“You can say it to me too,” Ted offered.
“Say what?” Mia asked, distracted by the little cartoon dog walking across her monitor.