NOLA

by Alexie Aaron

  Cid snickered.

  Burt glared.

  Sabine was entranced.

  “Moving on, Murphy has a report on the ghost in the basement,” Burt said.

  Audrey raised her hand.

  “Yes?” Burt asked, never getting used to Cid and Audrey treating him like a teacher.

  “I’d like to have Murphy go first. Perhaps his insights will help me to define a possible course of action for the frozen fellow.”

  “Fine with me.”

  Sabine looked over at Murphy, and he nodded.

  “It’s fine with Stephen. If I may, I’d like Stephen to talk directly to you through me. This will save a lot of time.”

  “I have no objections as long as it’s safe for you,” Burt said, amazed.

  “It’s what I do best,” Sabine said. “Stephen…”

  The team watched as the very feminine Sabine closed her eyes, and in a few moments, subtle transformations of attitude and posture let them know that Sabine was now rocking Stephen Murphy.

  Murphy looked out from the icy blue eyes and saw the team members in a new light. Mia had mentioned to him that she felt that Sabine saw everyone in a kinder light, but he thought it was just a figure of speech. Truth was, from his new perspective, Sabine actually saw everyone in their best light. Audrey had a warm aura that emanated caring outwards from her heart. Burt was statuesque, and Mike was dreamy. Murphy rolled his eyes and was determined to wash that thought out of his head. Cid was more fragile than Murphy thought of him, and Ted was Ted. No different than the everyday Ted. He was still the accepting joker who Murphy so admired and Mia loved.

  “Are you, er, settled?” Burt asked him.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Okay, yesterday you had the opportunity to converse with the children in the reading room.”

  “Yes, sir, I did.”

  “What can you tell the team about them?”

  “Alice Marie and Greggy Jones know that they are dead. They died in an automobile accident. They spent weeks in the hospital waiting for their mother, who was driving the car, to either come out of the coma or die. When it became apparent that Mrs. Jones was going to live, the children’s deceased grandmother came for them to take them into the light. The children, however, remembered their mother’s instructions pertaining to being lost. They chose instead to wait for their mother in the reading room of the library where their mother told them they would be safe.”

  “But are they safe?” Audrey asked.

  “No, not with the ghost in the basement. As he grows in power, he will no longer be satisfied with the basement. He will move upwards and try to control the library itself. He was very territorial and adamant that PEEPS leave his library.”

  “Mike and I experienced a sample of his hostility,” Burt reported. “Murphy, do you think he’s dangerous to the living?”

  “Not now, but soon he will want them gone. I’m afraid that he has no love of the living and may actually enjoy hurting them.”

  “Anything else to report?” Burt asked.

  “The gentleman in the basement storage room has run out of things to read, but he’s afraid to leave his room because of the bully.”

  “I can understand that. Does anyone have any other questions for Murphy?” Burt asked. No one said anything. “I guess whenever it’s appropriate, Murphy, you can leave Sabine.”

  Murphy moved out of Sabine and resumed his spot across from her. He watched as she took a few deep breaths and slowly opened her eyes. She seemed rather embarrassed by the attention. He winked at her, and she brushed off the awkward feeling and smiled.

  “Let’s take a breather before we hear from Audrey. I, for one, am jonesing for a donut,” Burt said.

  “And who here is surprised?” Mike asked.

  No one but Sabine raised their hand.

  Chapter Fourteen

  George pulled into the parking lot of the Starbucks on Magazine Street, and before Mia could get out, he reached a hand over the seat and said, “Here.”

  Mia, who was expecting a business card, was surprised by the Gris Gris bag dropped into her hand. “My grandmother demanded I give this to you. After I told her about the antics of last night, she went to work immediately. I didn’t want to give this to you. It is so old-fashioned, and I’m a man of the future. But she will skin me alive if I don’t follow through.”

  “Thank her for me. George, I’m unfamiliar with what to do with one. I totally embarrassed myself by using a spider-eater to defend me against a demon. All of this magic is way over my head.”

  “Hold on, let me get her on the phone. Grandmother, this is George. Miss Mia doesn’t understand the Gris Gris… Yes, I’ll put her on.”

  Mia took the phone and pressed it to her ear and said, “Hello.”

  “I hear you’re down here messing around with the dead. Very dangerous occupation.”

  “I’m trying to help the lost. I fear I may be making things worse.”

  “Nonsense, the dead are dead. You can’t harm them. It’s you I’m worried about. Georgie tells me that you don’t have time for a St. Benedict protection Gris Gris, so I made you somethin’ special. You wear it around your neck and tuck it into your brassiere over your heart. You are wearing a brassiere, aren’t you? Or are you a slutty girl?”

  “I’m wearing a brassiere, ma’am,” Mia answered. She noticed George put his hands to his face in embarrassment.

  “Tuck it in there, and if you are in the most dire of situations - now we ain’t talkin’ meaty spiders, miss,” she reminded Mia. “Then draw it out and say, Lord in Heaven, Help this Poor Sinner.”

  Mia repeated George’s grandmother’s words to make sure she got them right.

  “Yes. I pray you never have to use it. Now put Georgie on the phone.”

  Mia handed the phone back to George, opened her own door and got out of the sedan to give him privacy. Mia pulled the strings of the bag tight and wrapped the long strands around her neck and secured it with a double knot. She was mindful of a pair of eyes studying her from the door of the café, but she ignored them. Father Peter would wait. Right now, she had an old woman’s fears to take care of, and she meant to respect them.

  She tucked the bag into her bra as near to her heart as she could. She buttoned her shirt and adjusted her light jacket. Only then did she feel that she had honored the old woman and was ready for whatever awaited her today.

  “I see you’ve fallen in with a bad crowd, Mia,” Father Peter said, handing her a hot coffee.

  “Oh, the Guiding Light Commission are a motley crew but surely not a bad crowd.” She accepted the coffee and asked, “What’s the plan for today?”

  “How’s your leg?”

  “Mending. For the record, Sticks did not burn me. I did that, trying to get him to let me go.”

  “Duly noted. I’m impressed and confused. You know you’re defending a demon. A young demon, but still a vessel of evil.”

  “Yes, sir, I am aware of that,” Mia said. “It’s a beautiful afternoon; let’s not spoil it with an ideological argument.”

  Father Peter laughed. “Done and done. Today we have no demons, just some nouveaux riches dead disrupting one of our dear old society grannies.”

  “I believe they are called Old Dears.”

  “Not this group of backbiting, trash-talking, gin-swilling biddies.”

  “Why, Father, I’m shocked.”

  “I’m a man and a priest, Mia. I’m allowed to have opinions.”

  “Are you?”

  Father Peter changed the subject, and soon the two of them were heading down a tree-shaded lane. “We have been invited inside the glorious home of Alva Bennett. Where gentile taste abounds, or did. You’ll see what I mean.”

  They walked through the iron gate up beyond the floral hedge where Mia stopped in her tracks. Hung from the tasteful bric-a-brac trimming the porch were mirrored beads, crystal chandelier drops, and various gaudy blitz and bling.

  “Oh my,” Mia said.

/>   The front door opened, and an Ann Taylor-wearing, blue-blooded octogenarian stomped over to them. “You see it, don’t you? It reeks with bad taste. Why me? What did I do to deserve such disrespect?”

  “Is that an iron fence?” Mia asked.

  “Yes, it goes all the way around my property.”

  Mia put her finger to her lip.

  “What are you thinking?” Father Peter asked.

  “Well, to my knowledge, iron would act as a deterrent to the wandering spirits unless…”

  “It was trapping the spirit here,” Father Peter finished. “Mrs. Bennett, did you have a recent death in the family?”

  “No.”

  “Were there any deaths on your property?”

  “Well, those damn drunken kids during Christmas. They came barreling through my fence in that Humvee. They tore around the yard before they hit that tree over there.”

  Mia walked over and examined the new scar on the moss-dripping oak tree.

  “By the time we got the police to show up, they were dead. We found out later that they were friends of that singing star that bought the Helmsworth mansion. Had too many drinks on top of whatever kids sniff nowadays.”

  “How many are we talking about?” Mia asked, taking off her glove and caressing the tree’s scar.

  “Two, a boy and a girl. We had that yellow monstrosity in the yard for a few months while they investigated. They did let me put the fence back up though. I was ridiculed every day at the club about that piece of trash truck in my yard. Someone had the audacity to call me a Clampett!”

  Mia looked confused.

  “Beverly Hillbillies, they drove a piece of junk truck…” Father Peter tried to explain to Mia.

  “I’m sorry, I’m not much into television, but I get the idea of the pain you must have suffered,” she qualified. “I think that the spirits of the two revelers are trapped in this yard, and the decorations are their way of getting attention. Let me see if we can call them out,” Mia suggested.

  “Mrs. Bennett, perhaps you should go back into the house,” Father Peter warned.

  “Not on your life, priest.”

  Mia stroked the tree and felt a rising of two souls. They moved out of the tree and stood before Mia.

  “Hello, my name is Mia, and I think we have a misunderstanding here.”

  The young woman was wearing a cranberry colored, sequin mini dress and very little else. The male wore a tux jacket over a pair of expensive jeans. They linked arms and stared at Mrs. Bennett.

  “Mrs. Bennett would like you to leave her property.”

  “How?”

  “If I open the gate, do you promise to leave Mrs. Bennett and her property alone?”

  “Fuck yes,” the boy said. “The hag is so B O R I N G!”

  Father Peter cleared his throat.

  Mia looked at him a moment and then realized, “Oh, I’m supposed to ask you if you would like to cross over.”

  The two looked at each other and shrugged. The girl answered, “What’s in it for us?”

  “Redemption…” Father Peter started.

  “For what? Wearing my skirt too short or for the DUIs?”

  “Yes, for a start,” Father Peter said.

  “I’ll pass. You?” the girl asked the boy.

  “Me too. Just let us out of here, and we’ll leave the old bitch alone.”

  Mia walked to the iron gate and opened it. “Come along, the afternoon is almost gone, and I’ve got others to cross over.”

  The spirits flew past her. Mia slammed the gate and took out a saltshaker and drew a line, just in case.

  “All this time and money spent on mediums, and all I had to do was open the gate?”

  “Yes,” Mia said.

  “What do I owe you?” she asked.

  Mia looked at Father Peter.

  “You owe us nothing,” the priest said. “I have the number of a good cleanup crew if you need help getting all that down?”

  “No thank you, I’ll have my groundskeeper see to it, again,” she said.

  Mia opened the gate, stepped over the salt and held the gate open for Father Peter. They left without giving Alva Bennett a backward glance.

  “I can see why my aunt wanted to use an assembly line,” Mia commented.

  “Yes, some spirits leave you with a certain bad taste in your mouth.”

  “I suppose you wanted me to convince them they needed to cross over?”

  “Well, yes. They are only going to cause trouble some other place.”

  “I didn’t feel the light, Father Peter. It wouldn’t be heaven where they would be going.”

  “Oh.”

  “I have it from a very reliable source that Purgatory is full.”

  “And hell is out of the question?” Father Peter only half asked.

  “I’m not qualified to make that call,” Mia said.

  “Let’s leave it to the powers that be and move on to the next disrupters.” Father Peter pulled out a small list and was puzzled.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “When I was given this list, it had four more haunts listed. Now it only has one more. The others have been crossed off.” He handed the paper to Mia.

  “Did you feel anyone near you while we were at the Bennett house?”

  “No, but this is special paper, and Honor has a very special skill. In a way, superior to texting.”

  “Ah, so the spirits may have already moved on.”

  “I hope so. Anyway, we’re going to have to catch the streetcar. This one is on the far side of the Garden District on St. Charles Ave. We’ll continue to walk down this street until we come to St. Charles and then ride the streetcar.”

  Mia closed her mind. She didn’t think that Alexei would appreciate the priest knowing where he was residing.

  “Do you know why they call this area the Garden?”

  “I expect it’s all these plants.”

  “Oh no, the flowers here are only at their best in the springtime. The reason is that each house is different, special. This is a garden of houses.”

  “A garden of houses,” Mia repeated. She looked as far as she could beyond the fences and hedges. “I suppose the fences are for privacy.”

  “I expect that and protection. Lots of old money here. It’s a cat burglar’s wet dream.”

  “Father!” Mia admonished.

  He laughed heartily.

  “Honestly, what would your parish say?”

  “Oh, they are used to me, I assure you.”

  “Tell me about the other Guiding Light members?” Mia asked.

  “Well, you met the three witches, and I use that term lightly, a Voodoo priestess, a Wiccan medium, and I’m not exactly sure where I should put Becky. There’s Wanda, she hates me by the way. We were stuck together last year, and I found her to be insufferable. Although, I do admire her faith in her religion. But two mind readers aren’t going to get along because, well, there are some things better left unsaid or, in our case, unread. I remember walking up to greet her, and she was smiling. In her mind she was thinking, “Here comes that pap ass.”

  “Are you sure she wasn’t thinking papist?”

  “Either way, it was an insult,” Father Peter answered. “I worked three days with that woman. After, I told Honor that I wish to never be paired with her again.”

  “What about Triple P?”

  “Ah, Pastor Paul Philips, he’s a dear man. No better representative for his religion. He is open-minded and a wonderful youth pastor. He comes from a very diverse family that links back to the Bordens.

  Mia gulped. “Lizzy Borden?”

  “One and the same. He has a unique ability. He can see three minutes into the future. Don’t ask me how he does it, but it’s been documented.”

  “I wonder how he uses it.”

  “It can’t help him in a horse race, but it has saved him and a few of his kids from a drive-by shooting. If he was with you last night, he would have been able to save you the indignity of be
ing dragged off by Sticks.”

  “That, sir, was not your fault,” Mia brushed off.

  “Still, it was unusual behavior for the demon. He’s never attacked before.”

  Mia kept her mind closed but offered, “Perhaps he was curious about me.”

  “Maybe. Anyway, it gave us some excitement.”

  Mia just nodded.

  They crossed the street and managed to board the streetcar that was waiting there. Mia had a pocketful of quarters, enough to cover the fair of a $1.25 each. She sat down, grateful to be off her sore leg for a while, and watched the people as they journeyed towards their next target. People got on and off, and each seemed to not be in a hurry.

  “I guess this isn’t rush hour for New Orleans,” Mia commented.

  “It’s the lifestyle. No rush, appointments missed can be rescheduled,” Father Peter responded.

  “Up north, it’s more of a rat race scenario, except for where I live.”

  “Tell me about your home?”

  “I live in a restored old farmhouse with my husband, son and the builder of the farmhouse, Stephen Murphy. Cid, my husband’s boyhood friend, lives in the renovated barn over the PEEPs office. The farm is situated in a rolling hills area. Most of the land is forested, and there isn’t another house around for miles.”

  “I expect it’s kind of lonely.”

  “Not really, always something going on. I grew up in the neighboring village, and there I was lonely.”

  “I grew up in the city in a former project area. The citizens decided to take control of the neighborhood, and they succeeded. They pushed the gangs and the prostitutes out and began to fix up their properties. Right now, I couldn’t afford to live there.” He paused and then asked, “Mia, are you going to do this next year?”

  “I don’t think so. I’m repaying a favor. The constant crossing over is hard on me. I prefer to be a team member with PEEPs. Sometimes my skills are needed, but most times not. I can enjoy being part of something. It’s fun. I met my husband ghost hunting. Most of my friends are part of the Paranormal Entity Exposure Partners. It doesn’t make a lot of money, but I find the work rewarding and enjoyable.”

  “So you live on the property with the ghost that haunts the property?”

  “Yes, he’s my best friend.”