by Lynn Emery
Mr. Earl straightened. “She’s fine, just fine. Still working part-time. See, that’s why I married a younger woman. She can support me now that I’m layin’ around doing nothin’.” He grinned at his own joke. Mrs. Gray was only six years younger.
“You’re a planner alright. You need anything?” LaShaun ran a hand over the nearest gravestone, the one with her grandmother’s name on it.
“Nah, got all the tools I need. Chase might need to go ahead and buy pellets for the fire ants. But we got time.” Mr. Earl wiped his face with a bandana then took a drink of water from a bottle clipped to his belt.
“I’ll let him know.”
LaShaun smiled at him as she strolled around. She rubbed Beau’s back with affection when he approached. The dog gave a soft bark then raced around in circles. Ellie rewarded his performance by clapping her hands.
Mr. Earl picked up a garden hoe and chopped at stubborn crabgrass. “Life been quiet?”
“Sorta kinda.”
He stopped, took more water and gazed off into tangled vines and brush. “Uh-huh. I heard some talk about what’s going on down Slater Road. Something about Satanic symbols.”
LaShaun made a circuit around a nearby grave. Soft grass cushioned her steps. “Folks coming up with their own theories already.”
“You know they gonna talk. Missing child, strange messages. No telling what wild stories will come out next.” Mr. Earl shrugged as he chuckled.
“Wait until they find out I was there,” LaShaun retorted.
“Oh they already know. Those sage, holly and dandelions look pretty, but they ain’t for show.” Mr. Earl gave a sharp nod. The herbs he’d planted had protective qualities against spirits or demons according to local legends. “Don’t you worry. Ain’t no strangers been out this way.”
“Thank you, sir.” LaShaun crossed to him. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek.
“You’re welcome, child. Don’t look now, but somebody is trying to get away.” Mr. Earl pointed.
Ellie had climbed from the wagon and started off on her own to look around. Beau tagged along. He’d nudge her in a different direction if she tried to go too far. Ellie fussed at him when he did so. Beau would bark back, and the toddler would go where he wanted.
LaShaun laughed at their battle of wills. “She won’t get far.”
“Almost like that dog and her talking to each other. Kids and their pets. I thought when our five got grown, the zoo at my house would disappear. Nope. Joyce got two dogs, a cat, and a parrot. Says they’re for the grandkids.” Mr. Earl’s deep laughter rumbled.
LaShaun nodded as he continued making jokes about his wife and her devotion to their pets. Yet she watched Ellie and Beau. The bond between them had grown strong in such a short period of time. Ellie didn’t treat Beau like a toy at all like most young children. She did indeed seem to communicate with him. Even more curious, Beau responded as if he understood. If Chase hadn’t noticed, he would soon. LaShaun had been skeptical even though she trusted the twins. Still, her own gift confirmed that Beau was no ordinary house pet. LaShaun wondered what Chase’s reaction would be. Their love was strong, but she’d introduced so much supernatural drama into his life. Chase’s mother had opposed their marriage, so Chase didn’t talk to her often. When they did visit, tension kept their conversation superficial. LaShaun’s father-in-law practically visited them in secret to avoid conflict at home. Would things get better or worse? Mr. Earl’s gruff basso voice cut through her thoughts.
“Grandchildren can calm a lot of troubled waters,” Mr. Earl said. “Me and Earl, Jr. used to butt heads, got hot some times. But long as we don’t try to tell them how to raise their own kids, things stay just fine.”
LaShaun gazed at him. “Mr. Earl, have you turned into a mind reader?”
“Nah. Just ramblin’ on.” Mr. Earl grinned at her. His “rambling on” was his subtle way of giving advice or getting information without asking too many questions. “I’m nothin’ but a dusty old ordinary deacon at Rosewood Baptist Church. I don’t have the gift of prophesy. Though I do know my Bible scriptures. Yes, I do.”
“You’re a bible scholar is what you are, Mr. Earl. You can answer the most puzzling questions for me. I might have to call on you one of these days.” LaShaun looped an arm through his. They walked toward the open gate Ellie and Beau had gone through seconds before.
“Any time. Any time at all. Joyce will be grateful you get me out from under foot at home.” Mr. Earl gave a hardy laugh.
“I’ll just bet.” LaShaun laughed with him.
She scooped up Ellie. They exchanged affectionate farewells with Mr. Earl and headed back to the house. Thirty minutes later, the delivery van from Savoie’s catering arrived. LaShaun got busy setting up lunch for her and four others. Miss Rose, as usual, arrived early and insisted on helping. LaShaun managed to feed Ellie, play with her off and on, and prepare for her guests. Ellie tried to keep her eyes open, but soon she yawned her way to an afternoon nap. By twelve-thirty, the guests arrived with the twins at the head of the group.
“Hey, girl,” Justine called out gaily.
Her twin Pauline waited for a Ford Escape to unload two occupants. Both carried leather satchels. She gestured to them. “Y’all got here right on time. Told you it wasn’t hard to find.”
“GPS gets the credit,” the tall thin white man replied. He wore a tweed jacket over blue jeans. His cap matched the jacket. Thick white hair stuck out from the edges of his cap.
“Yes, thank goodness. Until he gave up male pride and relied on technology, he got lost more times than I care to remember,” the short woman next to him replied with a grin.
“LaShaun, this is Daniel Rayford, professor of anthropology at Northwestern U. in Natchitoches, his lovely companion Shelia St. Denis. Shelia of the Coushatta Tribe, a member of the panther clan.” Pauline beamed at them. “I can still publicly claim them both as friends despite their shady pasts.”
“Only because we know your even shadier secrets,” Shelia shot back. All three laughed.
“Hello everyone. Enough small talk. I’m hungry.” Justine turned sharply and headed for the kitchen door. “I sure hope you gonna feed us before we get down to business.”
“Yes, ma’am.” LaShaun laughed.
Soon LaShaun’s five guests had settled into eating hot ham, turkey, or beef po-boys; Creole style coleslaw and sweet tea. The conversation about paranormal phenomena was lively. Daniel’s gift was remote viewing, the ability to see scenes, people and events across distances. Shelia could sense supernatural entities in real time or traces left behind once gone.
Anyone listening would have concluded that LaShaun hosted a gathering of middle-aged jokesters. LaShaun enjoyed their banter. By the time she served dessert, tiny sweet potato pies for each, LaShaun felt like she’d known Daniel and Shelia for years. LaShaun started clearing the table. Despite her protest, the others joined in. Daniel took the large garbage bag filled with paper plates and more outside to the trash bin. When leftovers were wrapped and put away, all six sat around the table.
“We should get together more often,” Shelia said. She sipped coffee.
“Yes,” Justine added and smacked her lips. “Lunch was wonderful. Hit the spot.”
“I thought you met regularly,” LaShaun replied.
“Too busy,” Shelia said. “I do the bookkeeping at three of the tribe’s businesses.”
“I’m still teaching,” Daniel added. He heaved a sigh. “Vow of poverty. That’s why I’m an old man still working.”
“Poo, you love teaching. And sixty-two isn’t old. At least that’s what I tell myself,” Pauline quipped.
“Well, you have a couple of more years before you find out. Amazing how you make one birthday, and suddenly everything hurts.” Daniel laughed. The others agreed, laughing with him.
“Seriously though, it would be nice to be social instead of always dealing with trouble.” Shelia’s words sobered the other four older adults.
“Yes, speaking of which…” Miss Rose nodded to LaShaun.
“Y’all get settled in the family room area while I do a quick check on Ellie.”
Miss Rose herded her friends across the open floor plan to LaShaun’s den while she was gone. After making sure Ellie was still asleep and comfortable, LaShaun rejoined them and set up her tablet for a video conference. She connected it to the sixty-two inch flat screen wall television for easy viewing.
“Sandy said she won’t be free until two,” Miss Rose said. Dr. Sandra Portier was a professor in the Humanities department at Rice University in Houston, Texas, her specialty being linguistics.
“Okay, then we have roughly fifteen minutes to catch up on what we know.” Daniel went from a genial avuncular type to serious investigator. He gazed from Rose to LaShaun and back again over his bifocals.
“We don’t have much. Dina Menard went missing almost five days ago. No signs of her.” LaShaun grimaced at the grim sound of her last sentence.
“Father ruled out?” Shelia leaned forward.
“Not completely, but he doesn’t appear to be involved. The police are looking for one uncle, a registered sex offender,” Miss Rose put in.
“Hmmm. Send me his particulars. I’ll try to get a feel for him.” Daniel made notes on a pad he’d taken from his well-used leather satchel. “Be even better if I had something he owned.”
“Now how do we pull off getting our hands on his property? It can be small like a keychain or…” Justine looked at LaShaun. “Sherry Bradford asked for you.”
“She’s also not telling the whole truth and protecting her brother.” LaShaun gazed ahead as though she could see her. “I seriously doubt she’ll hand over anything he owns.”
Pauline nodded slowly. “She and her family obviously believe in supernatural, or Miss Bradford wouldn’t have asked LaShaun to get involved. Which means she knows about gris-gris and such.”
“And I’m not going to steal something from his house,” LaShaun said quickly when Justine started to speak.
“Damn, that’s the problem hanging with a bunch of psychics.” Justine crossed her arms.
“Okay, I have an idea which is true. We want to find out who took the child, so ruling him out fast would help. Let’s hope she trusts me enough to go for it.”
“Too iffy. Then she won’t trust you either and cut you off,” Miss Rose replied.
“I agree. Let me start with the information I have on the brother.” Daniel put down the notepad and pulled out a tablet. “I’ll text you if I need a hot popper.”
That’s his term for something personal from the subject,” Shelia explained to LaShaun.
“I came up with that no matter what Miguel says. Poser.” Daniel gave a grunt.
“Yes, yes, we know.” Shelia turned to LaShaun again. “Miguel Sanchez in San Jose made the term ‘hot popper’ popular in our Twitter group.”
“All because I was late to the party when it came to social media,” Daniel grumbled.
“Back on task.” Miss Rose shot them a glance as she tapped the keyboard of her laptop.
Daniel waved a hand. “Fine. Anyway, if I get a good view, maybe you won’t have to go risk alienating your one good family source.”
“Yeah. If Sherry Bradford is hiding something, putting her on guard too early in the game could complicate our task,” Justine said.
“Hey, are you guys ready?” Dr. Portier spoke from her office at the university. A bookshelf behind her served as a frame. Her dark red hair made her pale skin even more striking. Reading glasses dangled from a chain around her neck. She waved.
“The gang’s all here.” Miss Rose waved back.
“Nice to meet you LaShaun.” Dr. Portier smiled.
“Same here.” LaShaun smiled back and sat on the ottoman in her den.
“So, Rose, I looked at the material you sent last night. I have to tell you it’s super intriguing. Reminds me of early Assyrian writings on the one hand. Then I thought, no. This is a unique variation of Sumerian cuneiform. Of course, Sumerian writing did change over time. For example, at first the figures were from top to bottom. Then around 3000 BCE, it went from left to right. But this is… Well I’m not sure… Fascinating.” Dr. Portier put on her reading glasses. Then she held up her tablet computer to gaze at the screen in admiration.
“Thanks for the lecture on ancient doodles, Sandy. Skip to the part where you know what this is.” Justine glanced at her sister and lowered her voice. “She’ll go on for a half hour if you let her.”
“No, I won’t Justine. I have another class in twenty-five. You could do with more studies to expand your horizons.” Dr. Portier looked at her tablet again.
“I like my horizons just fine, thank you,” Justine retorted.
“Okay, you two. Stay on the subject.” Miss Rose shot Justine a warning look.
“The writing, Sandy.” Daniel glanced at Justine with a wry grin.
“I don’t recognize it. As I said, I see traces that could be clues, but I’m going to need to do some research.”
“This is a message we think. It’s written in Bat’s Blood ink.” Miss Rose frowned as if that detail worried her even more.
“You wanted me to see it with no context at first. Am I right?” Sandy took off her reading glasses and gazed at them through her desktop computer screen.
Miss Rose nodded. “I thought you might get some reading just from seeing the message.”
“Of course it might mean nothing.” Daniel crossed his arms.
Sandy’s eyes lit up behind her reading glasses. The tapping of her fingers on a keyboard came through the speakers. “You could be right, Daniel.”
“Hell, maybe they’re just nonsense scribbles from some dabbler in the dark arts. You know the types. Make up their own lore and legends.” Justine looked around at her colleagues.
Pauline nodded. “I remember this wannabe cult leader in Arizona. He didn’t have much formal education but had a genius for manipulating vulnerable people. He created his own language, even wrote a short book using it.”
Told his followers that it was an ancient Native American message and convinced them it was real… that he’d lived over a million years ago. What a load of bull.” Shelia rolled her eyes.
Daniel stood and walked closer to the television. “Well, Sandy?”
“No, there is order to the symbols or alphabet. I’ll need time.”
There was barking from the interior of the house, so LaShaun put off asking the questions she had. “I’ll be back in a minute. Beau must want to be let out.”
Shelia held up a palm. Then she stood, dumping her small tablet computer and other contents from her lap onto the floor. “Who is here?”
LaShaun stared at her in confusion. “I don’t—”
“Shh.” Pauline put a finger to her lips.
All five of the TEA members stood quiet, watching, and waiting. The barking stopped. An itching tingle crawled up LaShaun’s arms, a signal. Shelia’s question clanged in her mind like a warning bell. LaShaun dashed down the hallway to Ellie’s room before the others could react. Beau stood frozen at the foot of Ellie’s bed gazing at the open window. The bright fabric of the curtains plastered the window pane, as if a powerful wind had sucked it outward. Ellie stood just as still as Beau, her wide-eyed gaze at the window. Then she looked at LaShaun and pointed to it.
“No, mama. No.” Ellie’s sweet face screwed up until she let out a tiny sob.
“Oh my God.” LaShaun rushed to scoop her up into a firm embrace. “Baby had a bad dream that’s all. Mama’s here. Everything is fine.”
Miss Rose and the others came into the room. They moved around quietly. Ellie’s soft cries turned into wailing as she came fully awake. LaShaun didn’t notice the TEA members in the room at first. After ten minutes, Ellie’s sobs softened into sniffles. LaShaun hummed the tune Chase sang to Ellie. After another five minutes, the toddler grew quiet. She gazed up at LaShaun with a soft smile.
“I’m through h
ere. Let’s go back to the den,” Shelia told the others quietly.
“Okay.” LaShaun started to follow with Ellie still in her arms.
Justine and Pauline flanked LaShaun, hands on her shoulders. “She’s safe,” they said in unison. The twins acted in perfect concert when they operated in the supernatural.
“But…” LaShaun glanced down at Ellie, who was stretching a chubby arm to pet Beau.
“My Bo-bo.”
Ellie giggled when Beau replied by rearing on his hind legs, paws on LaShaun’s waist.
Only then did LaShaun realize the curtains had been pulled back inside, and the window was closed. Dried herbs dusted the sill.
“Do what you’d normally do when she wakes from her nap,” Justine said.
“Children need the familiarity of routine, so she won’t be frightened even more. Calmly.” Pauline’s composed tone matched her expression.
Only because of her trust in them did LaShaun resist her instinct to cling tightly to Ellie. Instead she took Ellie to the corner of the kitchen with her play pen and put her down. The open floor plan allowed her to see Ellie, the only reason LaShaun let go of her. Then she joined the others in the den. Yet even as she walked, LaShaun kept her eyes on Ellie. Beau trotted over to his dog bed not far from the play pen and laid down. His head propped on huge paws, Beau seemed relaxed.
“What the hell just happened?” LaShaun hissed low.
“An entity tried to enter the house. Whatever form it took was strong but not enough. You have protections around the house.” Shelia didn’t ask but stated the fact.
“How did you—” LaShaun gaped at her.
“Rose told me a bit about the Rousselle family history. If you’re grandmother taught you half of what she knew, then precautions are in place. I’m guessing she and your ancestors planted rosemary, dandelions and other protections long ago.” Shelia glanced at Miss Rose, who nodded confirmation.
“I didn’t feel anything.” LaShaun looked at Ellie as another chill took hold.