by Alexie Aaron
“I’ll take the first watch. You get some sleep,” Mike offered.
Mia nodded. “I’ll try. I can’t seem to turn off my brain. I keep running through the events of the last week. I see where I made some tactical errors.”
“I find it difficult to find any fault with anything but my mother walking into this house in the first place.”
“You don’t think that wasn’t somehow planned?” Mia asked.
“By whom?”
“You have me there. But what if we didn’t come? Would all this stay as a disappearance of three people every ten years or so?”
“I don’t know.”
“In Dr. Rose’s world, I saw things starting to escalate. Was it our interference that started the chain of disaster? Did we bumble in and cause our own peril?”
“Mia, I can’t answer that. I can see why youre suspicious of why my mother was shown this house. I think I’ll have Alan’s investigator run a check on her realtor. If I were a suspicious person, I would think that this was an excellent trap. But by who and why?”
“Because of my new associations, I’m beginning to see things that perhaps aren’t there. Sometimes shadows are just shadows,” Mia said yawning.
“But when the shadows start moving, I for one am so glad you’re with us, doll.”
Mia was too tired to respond. The corners of her mouth twitched before her heavy lids closed.
Mike watched her a moment before setting a Rem-Pod on the hatch and turning on his e-reader to entertain himself for his shift.
Dieter listened with fascination to Murphy’s experiences being taken over by the powerful ghost Renee and how his friend Mia had saved him. “You know I met her when she was about your age,” Murphy said. “She was a tough little thing with her heart set on Whitney Martin.”
“Is he Ted’s relative?” Dieter asked.
“No, just a coincidence. Martin is a common name in the Midwestern United States. When did you know you had this gift?”
“Curse, you mean,” Dieter said as he pulled at the shattered piece of wood that Murphy had laid his axe into. “Nine, ten, maybe. We were in a camp. The country I was born in was constantly changing. Warlords and religion kept my family moving to where it was safe. On one of our treks to the next safe place, we had crossed an area where it was rumored that many people had been executed and buried in mass graves.
“There were these people sitting in a small group watching a ravine. They chanted, sang or whistled. I looked at the tiny lights that were moving out of the ground. The people caught them in glass containers. I walked over, and the leader of the group eyed me. I assumed he was watching me as he thought I was a thief. I clucked my tongue and a light moved over and danced upon my palm. I didn’t know what the lights were then. I walked over and handed the light to the man, saying, I’ll not take what is not mine.”
“You didn’t know it was a soul?”
“Not until years later. When I lost my parents, the leader of the group I had seen before, arrived at the refugee camp. He presented papers, and he took me to this country. His name was Alphonse Cogswell. He died recently. The social worker was torn between finding me a foster home and getting me deported. This is why I was living in the home for runaways. Judge Roumain sent me to help you out. He said that Mia needed someone who could see souls.”
“Thank you for coming so quickly.”
“Do you think I did the right thing by accepting the Martins’ invitation?”
“Yes. You’ll be good for them, and they will be good for you. Mia is a nervous new mother and doesn’t trust herself. Help her. Tell her how your mother took care of you when she was alive.”
Dieter looked at Murphy, seeing the man for the first time.
“Mia means a lot to you, Mr. Murphy.”
“We have a lot of history, and yes, she will always mean a lot to me. I will watch over her and hers forever.”
“You are a good spirit. A strong spirit. You have a green aura around you.”
“Green?”
“Like the deep forests. It’s a good color, Mr. Murphy.”
Murphy smiled.
Orion held onto Audrey as she slept. He watched the split in the plaster where he had seen the light ooze out of. As a birdman with an extraordinarily long life, he was used to both the physical and the paranormal worlds. When something like this happened, he normally would be sitting and chronicling everything. Instead, he was holding on to his future wife and mother of his child. The universe had given him quite a gift, a chance of being a hands-on parent with a woman who stimulated him mentally and physically. Who would have ever thought that Orion Stavros would marry a good Catholic school girl named McCarthy? Certainly not her mother.
Burt enlisted Jake’s help in keeping track of the feeds. He and the ghost had come to an accord. He would try to understand the ghost’s need to express himself in various guises, and Jake would try to understand that Burt needed some information in plain speak, especially when time was of the essence.
Burt was overlaying several blueprints and looking at the changes between them. How had this house’s crimes gone unnoticed by all but the Roustans and the watchers of the paranormal world? How could beings like Roumain and the Council justify and sanction the loss of human life? How many more places were there like this in this city, in the world? Was this part of the balance? He had so many questions. He jotted down that he needed to speak with Mia about this. Maybe the two of them could brainstorm a better way or, at least, ask the beings involved some pointed questions.
Cid and Ted carried the last of the temporary walls out into the basement and stacked it with the other materials. The two of them were well suited to this endeavor. Cid’s practical construction knowledge and Ted’s scientific mind worked well together. They argued a bit, but both had learned to give a little and, in doing so, had learned so much.
Ted sat down and typed down the sequence in which the ancient machines had to be used. He handed it to Cid. Cid didn’t agree with the order. He pointed out the stresses on the house, and if they moved the fifth item to the second’s space, the house’s outside structure may actually remain intact. Ted nodded and produced another checklist. They walked upstairs to use the big computer and to have Jake run various scenarios. They also had to factor in the falling temperatures the storm brought with it. They may have to scrap the attempt until better weather. He would consult Mia on what she would advise to use as a Band-Aid, in the meanwhile, to contain the denizens from the pocket dimension.
Mia’s eyes snapped open. “Who dropped the chandelier?” she asked.
Mike looked over from his e-reader. He tapped his bookmark and closed his book. “I assumed the shadow men.”
“They only had that small area of the third floor to exist in. Not the attic.” She got up and ran over to what they were calling the machine room and found it empty. She tapped her com. “Burt, are Ted and Cid upstairs?”
“Yes, they’re working on the big computer.”
“I’m coming up,” she said. “I need to ask them some questions.”
“Fine. I’ll go down and…”
“No you stay. I need your feedback. I’m bringing Mike up with me. I resealed the hatch. It will hold for a while.”
“Should I recall the others?”
“Dieter and Murphy must leave the attic. They may inadvertently set us back. Over.”
Burt’s lips twitched at the one use of over by his investigator. He was thinking about doing away with this practice. He heard they weren’t even doing it correctly. He had instituted it in the beginning to stop them from talking over each other. He would put this up to the group at a future meeting back at the office.
“Team, I think we need to reassemble down in the kitchen. Over.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
Mia looked at each one of the group. “First of all, I must apologize to each and every one of you. My mind has been elsewhere or I would have figured out one very important piece of informati
on. Something, that as things got dicey here, we glossed over.”
The team looked at Mia, puzzled by what she was getting at.
She continued, “Cid and Ted, you went to the attic after the chandelier dropped.”
They nodded.
“I saw someone with a wrench undoing the nuts. Did you find the wrench?”
“No, Mia, we thought…” Ted began.
Mia raised her hand. “I understand. I would have done the same thing. I saw a man sending the chandelier to my feet. We all assumed it was one of the shadow men that we encountered soon after. But we were wrong. Ted or Orion, did either of you find out what happened to Richard Thorn?”
The two looked at each other. “He worked with Edison for a time, but after that I have no idea. I assumed he went the way of most inventers, died in penury in a slum somewhere,” Orion said.
“Ouch,” Ted said. “Mia, save yourself.”
Mia couldn’t resist smiling. “Audrey, the diary of Albert Roustan, did he write about any odd occurrences? Things disappearing…”
Audrey’s face perked up. “Yes…” She fumbled for her notes. “Soon after he and his wife were married, he lost a penknife he was gifted. He assumed, incorrectly, that he left it at his club. The club never found it.”
“Anything else.”
“Something… something… Oh yes! A workman complained that someone had been into his toolbox. He was missing several things. Roustan didn’t list them. Why?”
“I believe that Richard Thorn is trapped in this house. He used all the energy he had to send us a message, and we missed it.”
“You mean he’s alive?” Mike asked astounded.
“No, but like Murphy, he is here. A ghost without a way to draw power. It probably took everything he had to periodically get the attentions of whomever was living here at the time.”
“Where is he?” Audrey asked.
“In the attic. We need to search the unfinished part of the attic,” Mia said. “Ted, we’ll need some energon cubes, and, Murphy, you’ll need to communicate with him to show him how to draw power.”
“Wait!” Ted said. “Should we? Didn’t he cause all this?”
“Have you ever made a miscalculation?”
“Yes.”
“As have I. What did we do after making our errors? We did our best to fix them. I think that Richard Thorn was trying to fix the problem of the pocket dimension, or the leaks, when he died. The house passed into the hands of the Roustans, legally or not, and he was forgotten.”
Burt put his hand through his hair. He looked at Mia. “You’re sure that empowering Thorn is a good idea?”
“Yes. I believe he could work with Ted and Cid to solve this problem.”
“I have a question,” Mike said. He waited until Mia was looking at him. “How come Murphy didn’t know he was here?”
“Murphy was gone when the chandelier was dropped. Before that, most of the time, Renee Roustan had control of him,” Mia reasoned. “Murph?” she asked, giving him the opportunity to answer for himself.
“Mia and I couldn’t feel anything when we entered this house. Unless Richard Thorn passed in front of my eyes, I would have been blind to his existence.”
Mia looked back at Mike.
“It’s your call,” Burt said to Mike.
“Let’s try to find and communicate with Richard Thorn.”
Dieter, who had observed the meeting, turned to Murphy and said, “I like the way this group gathers information, examines the facts and presents them. Why is only one of the team able to make the final decision?”
“He’s responsible for the house. His mother bought this house. She’s not here to make the decision, so he will make it for her.”
“Oh.”
Mia watched the two. Murphy’s explanation was correct. Too often Mia forgot just how smart her friend was. The quiet ones tended to get overlooked in most groups. “We are a squeaky-wheel society,” she said to herself.
Cid, who heard her, put his hand on her shoulder. “Yes, but we’re learning.”
Mia looked up at him. “I hope so. Sometimes I think that I’m so thick upstairs. I’m already set in my ways. Time to rethink my priorities.”
Burt jotted some things down before he cleared his voice. “PEEPs, I’m going to send Mia, Murphy, Cid, and Dieter upstairs. Each has a unique way of relating to spirits. Let’s see if we can find Thorn. Orion, I would like you to stick around. You have the most experience in dealing with people from this era.”
“He means, I lived it,” Orion joked. “I’ll be happy to.”
Audrey beamed.
“Ted, I need you on console. I’m going to film. Mike, I wouldn’t say no to an introduction for Operation Find Thorn.”
~
Mike looked into the camera and started, “Sometimes when we arrive in a home with a very active haunt, we may miss a few things. One of our lead investigators, Mia, wanted to follow up on a hunch that someone or something may be trying to get our attention. In this case, it was by dropping a chandelier at our feet, and possibly, opening a trapdoor so she was dropped into a bone-filled chamber inside a wall.” Mike paused a moment and lifted an eyebrow. “Some ghosts touch you. Others drop expensive lighting fixtures. It’s really hard to know what exactly will happen.”
Mia scrunched up her face a moment from where she stood behind Burt. She didn’t really like to be singled out, but it was the truth, and if Mike wanted to give her credit, then she wouldn’t insult him by being upset.
“We have a good friend, Dieter, joining us for the exploration of the attic.”
Dieter saluted the camera.
“Cid and he are going to carefully traverse the trusses and rafters looking for signs of our impromptu DIYer or, as Mia says, DYI – do yourself in.”
Mia and Murphy examined the attic out of the range of Burt’s camera. Murphy kept a steadying hand on Mia. She would have normally been annoyed, but she knew she was tired and didn’t want her pride resulting in a four-story drop to the foyer floor.
Mia looked at the blankets of insulation and feared that what they needed to find was lying underneath the hastily laid fiberglass. She and Murphy started at the far end and lifted sheet after sheet, looking underneath for anything that would confirm her theory that Richard Thorn met his end in the attic.
“The stain!” Murphy said suddenly. “The stain in the hallway…”
“But that was just the shadow men,” Mia argued.
“Stay here. I’ll come up through where the shadow men came into our world.”
Mia watched Murphy disappear. A few yards from where she was standing, Murphy rose through the floor.
“Here, Mia, here,” he called.
Mia carefully crossed the attic and between the two of them, they lifted the blanket of insulation off. Under it was some rags. It wasn’t uncommon to see homeowners had used rags to help keep the chill out. Mia drew away the moth-eaten, insect-infested cloth to find something solid underneath.
“Here,” she called. “Cid, Dieter, over here.”
The men walked over, and together, they carefully removed the remaining rags off the mummified corpse. Mia pointed to the large truss nail that protruded out of the corpse’s temple. “Maybe he tripped and landed on this.”
“It would have killed him, going through the temple like that. Maybe he felt he was falling and tried to twist and grab hold of a truss but ended up on the pointy end.”
“What was he doing here in the first place?” Burt asked, focusing the camera to take in the corpse.
“We could ask him,” Dieter said, pointing to a slight disturbance resembling waves of diffused light.
Cid pulled out an energon cube and explained, “We don’t know if you can understand us, but if you touch this box, you may be able to draw enough energy to communicate with us. Maybe even manifest.”
Murphy and Mia could see a slight mist move towards the box. Mia felt it was more interested in what the box did. “Murphy, show
him,” she instructed.
Murphy laid his axe in the groove and pulled out a measure of energy.
The mist moved quickly over and hovered over the box. Murphy moved away so Burt could film the spirit manifesting.
The man was of medium height, a neat, trim mustache adorned his wide smile. His hair was dark and longer than was fashionable in his day. He had on a black lab apron covering a white high-collared shirt and brown, woven slacks. Mia got the idea of brown footwear, but as with most spirits, his feet faded away while his hands were clear as day. He had the scarred hands of an inventor, hands too busy to let wounds heal properly. A large, arthritic knuckle bespoke of many breaks. His eyes were dark and manic.
“Can you speak to us?” Mike asked.
“I’ve been trying for a week, you imbecile.”
“There’s no cause to be rude, Richard,” Mia scolded. “We were busy.”
Richard Thorn moved close to Mia and looked down at her. Murphy tapped him on the shoulder and demanded, “Move away.”
Thorn looked at Murphy and his axe, and did just that.
“We would like to help you,” Mike said. “We have found your machines.”
“I thought I had hidden them in another dimension. My dimensional pocket collapsed. I came up here to see if the copper rods were all connected. The house shuddered, and I fell. Now and again I tried to communicate. I had to be tricky; there is a spirit here that chews on souls.”
“Renee Roustan is gone,” Mia said.
“Good. I suspect she was the reason my last pocket dimension failed. I expect you’ve met Samuel?”
“He’s been driven mad by your machine,” Mia said.
“Unfortunate. But he shouldn’t have tried to treat himself with it.”
“We are trying to seal the breaks in the pocket that holds him and his monsters. They can’t be allowed into this world,” Mia stressed.