by Alexie Aaron
Mia knew better than to ask for a menu. “Two eggs, sunny-side up, bacon and a short stack with syrup, please.”
“Hal, give me a Cluck and Grunt and a Stack of Vermont,” Sally called over her shoulder and winked at Mia before moving on to refill the coffees of the other diners. As she moved down the line, her shadow smiled approvingly at the banter Sally had with the lone travelers and long distance haulers.
Mia spun around slowly on her stool taking in the diner’s ambiance. She was careful not to make eye contact with the dead who hung around for their own reasons. Mia was getting better at telling the difference between the living and the dead at a glance. It was only when the dead wanted the living to see them where Mia could not differentiate. It took a lot of practice and power for the entities to do this. Murphy abandoned this practice long ago when he realized that Mia could see him regardless.
Mia felt the waitress’s eyes on her, and she moved back around to be greeted by her breakfast. “Thank you,” she said as her cup was refilled.
“You passing through?” Sally asked.
“I’m here helping out some friends. Not sure how long I’ll be staying,” Mia replied as she cut into her pancakes.
“Welcome. I’d stay over at the White Horse if yer flying solo. Lorie will look after you. Otherwise the Roadside Inn’s clean and cheap.”
Mia looked up at her, “Thank you, I’m glad for the information.”
Sally moved on down the line. Mia watched her from the corner of her eye, but was aware that Mildred was still standing in front of her. The spectral waitress scribbled something down on her pad and ripped off the top sheet and set it in front of Mia. The paper was translucent and blended with the Formica of the counter, making it hard to read. Mia leaned in, and as she did, the words darkened from the graphite of Mildred’s pencil to a blood red. It said, “LUCKY’S =DEATH.”
Mia looked up at Mildred and nodded. The waitress smiled and moved on to once again shadow Sally.
Chapter Four
The man stood looking at her. She returned the stare of her observer. He was gowned in a long lab coat. This puzzled her. One moment she was on the beach, and now she was under lights with people in white milling around her. Perhaps she was in the hospital? Maybe she was knocked out from the concussion of a lightning bolt. All she remembered was the flash and then nothing.
She was used to men staring at her. From a young age she knew the pedigree that ran strong in her gene pool - the natural blonde mane of hair and sky blue eyes - got her noticed. As a young woman, her perfect skin, slim limbs and her ample breasts gave her an edge at any beach or barbecue. Courtney Fairchild used her looks to get her invites to the best parties. Sorority houses fought over her. She never had to go through rush with all the humiliations meted out by the elder sisters. She had them at her beck and call. Studies were no problem, but she hid her intelligence. It was an asset to be mined in the boardrooms not the bedrooms. Sex was selling, didn’t Marilyn prove that? Courtney was looking to land her a rich and handsome husband, someone that would appreciate her charms and shower her with gifts of houses and cars.
Spring break had been in full force. Convertibles jammed with privileged riders sped by, oblivious to the pedestrians that hugged the shoulder of the road leading to the beach. The topaz sky fought with storm clouds for dominance, but the weather had remained warm. Courtney had looked west, wary of the approaching storm. If she timed it right, she would stroll by the Hamilton Estate just as the sky opened up with rain. Her love of the classics had inspired this Austen maneuver. They would no doubt take her in. After all, it was good manners. She wore the fashionable white bikini today, knowing that once it was wet, it would be translucent. This would impress the males of the family. Hopefully, the young handsome Brent Masson, who was visiting with the Hamiltons, would be there to hand her a towel. From then on it would be only a matter of time, and she would have the young Masson heir wrapped around her expertly manicured fingernail.
She was so caught up in her day dream, picking out colors for her bridesmaids that she didn’t hear the low rumble. Nor did she pay any attention to the other beachgoers quickly running for cover as the wind picked up and the sky darkened. It was dangerous to be caught out in a thunderstorm in south Florida. Another rumble coming on the heels of a flash of lightning warned Courtney that the storm was almost on top of her. She increased her speed to a fast walk, because she was still a half mile from the estate. She couldn’t appear to be running - what lady ran on the beach? She felt the cool burst of air, heralding a plow wind, before the first cool sting of rain pelted her body. This was not the light soaking she had planned for. This hurt! She decided to abandon her efforts when her mascara started to run. Turning heel, she headed for the pier hoping to shelter there. This time running was a priority. She was making good time until she hit deep loose sand and stumbled. She regained her footing. The pier was only a few yards away. Lightning hit the water close to her. It was punishing both the beach and the water. Thunder roared. Her ears hurt as strike after strike shook the land and boiled the sea. Courtney’s last memory was of a flash of light, a suck of air and then darkness.
She reached out and encountered glass. Courtney pushed with her feet, glass. She twisted around. Glass! Was she on display? What was going on? She tried to speak and no words formed. There was no saliva in her mouth, and she didn’t appear to be breathing. She twisted and pushed and stamped and cried. Nothing. She was imprisoned, and it was making her mad.
Bernard watched as the lab tech handled the delicate piece of fulgurite with care. It had been a tradition since 1911 to have fulgurite displayed in the Field Museum. Most pieces were placed near the geos and the obsidian. But this beautiful hollow cylinder created by lightning and sand, would be displayed in a new exhibit just outside the Hall of Gems. This piece differed from most of the molten glass finds. Not in strength, as it was as fragile as the rest, but it had a smoky interior that seemed to move, change shape as if it contained life. But that was impossible. Nothing would survive the 109-1010 Joules strike of electricity, let alone being encased in the airtight fragile milky glass. Fulgurite had been found in sand and soil. It was very difficult to unearth. Very rarely did large pieces survive the excavation. Most pieces were fragments and resembled tree branches as the lightning snaked its way through the loose ground. This particular piece of fulgurite was in the shape of a cylinder - the cause and effect product of electricity and south Florida beach sand.
This display of the fulgurite was going to coincide with the anniversary of the Field’s acquisition of the Kimberly yellow diamond. The gift shop had brought in jewelry set with the yellow gems along with some tiny inlaid fulgurite to entice the customers. Bernard wondered if Mia would like a charm with a piece of fulgurite attached. He would have to ask Ralph. Ralph knew about these kinds of things. Bernard made a note in his iPhone to call him at lunch and ask. He then moved out into the Hall of Gems and took another look at the yellow diamond. A stone, according to Mia, that was still lusted over by the ghost of a gangster named Bill.
Bill gazed briefly at the elegant black gentleman as he stood next to him. He was concerned about the intentions of this museum administrator, considering all the current activity surrounding his diamond. Quite recently he had sweated out the revamp of the displays. For several days he lost sight of the diamond, it being held in a secure lead lined safe, as they updated the hall.
Bill had lost his life to secure this stone for his gal Shelley. She demanded it, and Bill wasn’t going to let a few guards get in his way of acquiring it for the bleached bombshell who he was determined to make his missus. He had arrived just before closing. Things were a bit different back then. There weren’t these sophisticated alarms and pressure plates under the gems. There just was glass between he and his prize. He smashed the glass and took off running. He neglected to take into account the man who was waxing the upper floor when he chose his route for escape. Bill hit the slippery floor just above the main
staircase and fell to his death. He held on to his prize all during the bone-smashing, spleen-bursting tumble down to the first floor. When his wrist broke, the gem rolled out of his palm. As the light went out in Bill’s eyes, the last thing he saw was the yellow diamond, just out of his reach.
Today was no different, the gem continued to be out of his reach. He would continue to wait until an opportunity presented itself, and then he would have his prize. Nothing and no one, corporal or other, would stand in his way to possess the gem.
Bernard rubbed his arms as a chill went through him. He decided he had spent enough time in the Grainger Hall of Gems for today. Time he looked in on his other projects.
His phone vibrated and a text from Ralph appeared. “Mia’s out of town. Time to change her décor.”
Bernard shook his head and typed back. “Cease and desist! She will kill you.”
Ralph answered, “I’ll take this under advisement.”
~
Mia had just pushed her plate away when the jingle of the bell over the door to the diner, announced the entrance of the PEEPs crew. Mike flashed Mia a grin when he spotted her at the counter. He pointed to a corner booth where Ted and Beth had already ensconced themselves. Mia tucked her payment and generous tip under her plate, picked up her coffee cup and followed him over to the table.
Sally was at her elbow hissing, “If these are your friends, then I’d watch your back. Good tippers but mean gossips.”
“Gotcha,” Mia acknowledged before sliding in beside Beth.
Beth grabbed her hand and squeezed it as she pursued the menu.
Ted smiled broadly and asked, “The Murph?”
“Over at the jukebox,” Mia said. “He’s more of a MP3 man, but he seems interested in the titles.”
Ted laughed. He ignored the menu and gave Sally his order of “Adam and Eve on a raft and wreck them.”
Sally was impressed. She turned to Mike, and he inquired about an egg white omelet. Sally frowned before informing him, “Oh, sweetie, why are you being so mean to yourself. Let Sally get you something to fill your belly. Give you something to make you purr under your hood.”
“Give him a Cowboy,” Ted suggested.
“With or without spurs?” she said wetting the end of the pencil with her tongue.
“He’s trying to lose weight, toss the spurs.”
“I don’t know why, he looks quite nice the way his is,” Sally sniffed.
“Hello, I’m sitting right here,” Mike said. “Now I know how Murphy feels.”
Murphy heard his name and decided to come over. He took off his hat and sat next to Mike. Mia mouthed, “Behave.” Murphy just smiled.
Beth threw caution to the wind and ordered French toast.
“You want syrup with that?” Sally asked.
Beth nodded.
“Okay, I have an Adam and Eve on a raft and wreck them, a Cowboy sans spurs and a Vermont Biddy Board. Coffees around?”
The group nodded and waited until Sally was out of earshot to question what exactly the waitress was talking about.
Ted pulled out his smart phone and pulled up a Diner’s Lingo site and confirmed to the group what indeed they had ordered.
Mia laughed. Murphy moved through Mike to see what Ted was doing. This gave Mike a vicious chill. Mia cleared her throat and Murphy settled back down.
“I heard you ended up in Burt’s room this morning,” Mike started. “He’s not exactly happy you’re here.”
“As I’ve been told. Four times now. The question is, do you three still want me here?”
“Yes, oh yes,” Mike said.
The others nodded.
“This investigation reminds me of the hollow, but on steroids,” he pointed out.
“Whoa. The hollow was pretty nasty. Do you think you may have more than a few marauding bikers on your hands?”
“That’s it, I don’t know. Beth’s found nada, and Ted’s pissed that we are losing electronics at an alarming rate.”
“Malfunctioning,” Mia asked.
“Smashed to bits!” Ted exclaimed. “I have cords the copper has been pulled out of and wrapped around the outside of the insulation!”
Mia looked to Beth, and Beth explained, “The insides are out.”
“Oh.” Mia blushed at her ignorance. “So there is a lot of power in play here.”
“Yes.”
“What do the owners want with the property, and from PEEPs?” she asked the group.
“They originally wanted to do what they’ve done here. Make it a listed place. Encourage the new bikers, doctors and lawyers from St. Louis, maybe Chicago, to use it as a weekend hangout. The biker theme without the Hells Angels,” Beth explained.
“Did they know it was haunted when they bought it?”
“No.” Beth continued, “It wasn’t. Apparently it all started up when they started renovating.”
“So I’m getting the idea that they want the ghosts gone,” Mia said slowly. “I guess the next course of action is to find out why they are there in the first place.”
“We’ve had no EVPs. There are screams, but we can hear them without the recorders,” Ted said quickly as Sally approached with a tray laden with their breakfast order. He thanked Sally and watched as Mike looked at the western omelet before him. “Dig in, dude, you’ll burn that off in no time.”
Mike looked at Mia. She advised, “Eat, Sounds like we’re in for a time of it. Speaking of eating, is Burt going to show or are you bringing something back?”
“He’s doing the Poptart and Krispy Cream diet these days,” Beth said sadly. “We’ve all tried to reason with him, but he is a different guy lately.”
Mia looked crestfallen.
“No. It’s not you, or lack of you,” Beth said quickly to reassure her. “I think he’s taking all of this way too serious. Once the money started flowing in he has become more and more driven to make more.”
“Does he need money? Is the family okay?” Mia questioned.
“I think so. He seems to have to prove something.”
Mia looked over at Mike who waited to finish his mouthful of egg before speaking. “I think it’s a phase. Ma says I still go through them, so why not our fearless leader?”
“Leader? I thought you were partners?” Mia questioned.
“On paper, but man, I seem to have no say and have been relegated to sidekick except in front of the camera.” He dropped his voice to a raspier tone and said, “I’m no longer Batman.”
Mia laughed in spite of herself. Mike and she had started off adversaries but slowly became easier with each other. He thought she was trying to be the main attraction, and she thought he was insensitive in regard to the feelings of the haunter and those they haunted. Mia’s view had softened when she herself understood the stress of trying to balance the living and the dead. Mike acknowledged her talent and no longer envied her. He realized that with the gift came the pain of not ever having a normal life. Mike thought she would take Burt away from PEEPs, but as it turned out, PEEPs meant more to Burt than this beautiful seer of ghosts. They would never be friends, but they had found accord.
“Pictures? Film? Anything?” Mia listed.
Ted dug into his satchel and pulled out a small notebook computer. He typed one-handed while he munched on an egg-laden piece of toast. He spun the computer around to face Mia and pressed play.
The room itself didn’t look any different than any small town barroom. Faded adverts donned the walls. Green, scarred linoleum covered the sagging floor. Mia saw movement behind the mahogany and brass bar. An entity moved back and forth as if he was wiping down the surface. A few barflies sat on tall stools nursing their drinks. She couldn’t make out their clothing but their posture was of women wearing tight skirts.
“Looks residual,” Mia commented.
“Wait,” Mike warned.
Two black masses moved into frame, blocking out the barman and ladies. They began to push off each other. The blackness swirled where the two met an
d resumed a solid black when they parted. A hand shot out towards the camera, and it was wrenched off a stand or out of a hand and flew across the room. Mia saw that the camera still functioned. She saw more shadows move back across the cameras field of vision before a large mass pressed down, and then nothing.
“Camera One bites the dust,” Ted said with his mouth full. “There are other snippets, but they all end with a camera sandwich.”
“Temperature?”
“Cold even in summer,” Mike answered.
“Any history of haunting before this?”
“Not according to the previous two owners. Its clientele were mostly truckers stopped for the night. It hadn’t been a biker bar since the sixties,” Beth filled in.
Mia scratched her head. She looked over at Murphy and asked, “Wanna take a look?”
Mike thought she meant him and he shuddered. “If I have to.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I was asking Murphy,” she explained. She looked again at Murphy and lifted an eyebrow. Murphy nodded slowly. He grabbed for his hat and put it on his head. “Daylight would be best for my first look. Anyone want to back us up?”
“I’ll go,” Beth volunteered.
Mike was about to protest, but he backed off. Beth looked determined. She would be safe with Mia. “I’ll man the command post with Ted,” he told them.
Mia looked at Mike and smiled. “Good, you can pull us out if things get rough. I don’t expect too much. How long since the entities beat the crap out of Burt?”
“Twelve hours,” Ted answered as he pulled the computer towards him to power it down. “The destruction of the interior lasted another two hours after that.”
“We may have a few hours of peace, but it’s hard to tell. Be prepared to flee, Beth. We aren’t Mike and Burt, a punch from an anger-driven ghost may break more than a nose or finger,” Mia cautioned.
“I’ll be smart, I promise,” Beth assured her. “Besides, you will have my back.”
“But who will have Mia’s?” Mike asked the group.