Taurus: A Hearse of a Different Color

by Sèphera Girón

  “Holy crap!” she said. She held a dustpan and brush. She knelt to sweep the broken pieces into the pan She looked at Maggie. Maggie stared at Dorothy, her mouth open.

  “Is it still here?” Maggie asked. Dorothy looked at the crystal ball. It was clear.

  “No,” Dorothy said.

  “Good.”

  “You felt it, didn’t you?” Dorothy asked

  “Yes, I did. He’s a pretty creepy dude. More creepy than your funeral parlor friend. I don’t know if you should be involved with him at all.”

  “Well I’m not involved with him though I very much want to be while he’s in Hermana. I’d like to have a couple of nights with him, why not? Dorothy said. “I know I couldn’t ever stand to be married to an actor. I’d die of jealousy but for a fun time while he’s here in town, I’d totally be down with that.”

  “And I’m telling you...” Maggie said.

  “Why... just because some stuff fell off the wall?|

  “You told me to about how strange he was. How he changes on a dime. That’s why you were hiding, remember? He says he’s afraid of you but in fact you’re the one that should be afraid of him.”

  “Perhaps something is haunting him. Whatever it was made him see me in a way that scared him and had nothing to do with me at all?” Dorothy said. “I’m so stupid sometimes. I should have thought of that the minute at happened. God, I really wonder where my brain is at times.”

  “While I can’t say I would have thought of it either,” Maggie said. “But I think you’re on to something because I don’t feel anything and nothing else is flying around her getting broken. He’s gone. Did you notice as he walked away because I was watching as he walked away though I guess you were still behind the blind but I saw... well, come look.”

  Maggie took Dorothy’s hand. Dorothy put down the dustpan and followed her halfway down the aisle till they were at Tamara’s shop.

  The giant statue of the one of the sisters who founded Hermana lay smashed across the floor, with Tamara standing by it, staring incredulously.

  Melissa was gathering up some of the larger broken pieces, trying not to get cut.

  “Oh, no Tamara! I’m so sorry your statue broke,” Maggie said. “I know how much you liked it, that it was your favorite one.”

  “I don’t think it was anyone’s fault,” Tamara said. “I didn’t see anyone touching it. Some people, lots of people walked by as they always do but nobody touched it. It didn’t get knocked. I guess her time had come.” Tamara said. Tears rolled down her face. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a baby. I just had it for so long, she was part of the family. I guess it’s time to find a new monument for my booth.”

  “You still have the sister,” Dorothy said, patting the other statue depicting the other sister, the founder of Hermana.

  “Yes, and we lost the others long ago so I guess I should be glad they lasted this long. Now we’re down to one sister in the market place but that’s OK. Maybe it’ll be easier to sell just one.”

  Maggie and Dorothy helped her pick up the pieces and then they returned to Maggie’s stall and finished tidying up. Soon Dorothy had another crystal ball reading and Maggie had another psychic reading as well.

  The day passed quickly.

  They closed up Maggie’s stall and said good night to everyone else in the market as one by one people filtered out. Most were off to get a good night’s sleep before they had to do it all again the next day. Dorothy’s pockets were full of money. And that made her smile.

  Chapter Twelve

  Page of Cups: Be ready for new romantic possibilities.

  Maggie, Madeline, and Dorothy stood on the porch of A Hearse of a Different Color. The air was chilly, the sun had already set. Mist rose from the cobblestones into the evening air. One by one, streetlights were glowing; first dull and then brighter. Even though spring had arrived, days were still short. And once the sun was gone, the temperature dropped quickly and often ruthlessly. Sea salt hung heavy in the air, adding dampness to the chill. Dorothy hugged her cape tighter around herself, pleased that she wore her knitted hat and gloves.

  They hadn’t rung the bell yet. Even though Dorothy suspected they were being watched not only by passersby on the street but by anyone peering out of the windows, the witches took a few minutes to assess the situation. They stood there, looking up at the ever-changing gargoyles. The fog was thick around the turrets, some spots thicker than others. In fact, Dorothy saw that there were pockets of thick clouds that would swirl and then float away. The air, even on the porch where they stood, was thick.

  “I wonder how many customers he’s had since he opened?” Madeline asked.

  “Customers... as in dead people, or customers who are alive or if anyone has come through it all?” Maggie said.

  “I mean dead people. People he either has to put into coffins or into the crematorium.”

  “It will be interesting to see. And there are only a few ways to find out.”

  Dorothy banged the knocker. The witches waited, the setting sun removing the warmth of the spring day and echoing back to the chill of winter.

  The door opened and Aloysius stood there, dressed as always in an old-fashioned but well-fitting suit. His dark eyes were shining like buttons, his pale face lit with a small smile.

  “Good evening,” he said to each of the witches individually. “I’m so pleased you were able to come so quickly.” He paused and looked at Dorothy. “And I’m really glad you’re able to bring some assistance.”

  “This is Madeline, one of our best ghost hunters, and this is Maggie, tarot reader extraordinaire,” Dorothy said. Aloysius shook the hand of each witch.

  “Wonderful. Follow me,” Aloysius said.

  He let them inside the funeral home and shut the door behind them. Dorothy immediately felt the temperature drop several degrees as she entered the hallway. Aloysius helped the witches off with their coats and hung the garments on a large, ornate coat rack that had a gargoyle head. The face of the gargoyle was set in a grimace, Dorothy noted, yet it winked at her. Dorothy blinked, not sure if she was seeing things.

  The witches entered a small room with several old-fashioned over-stuffed chairs and a love seat. As with most of the furniture in the funeral home, the chairs had claw feet with ornate creatures such as gargoyles carved into the legs and hand rests.

  “It’s been noisy today,” Aloysius said. “Let’s sit in the parlor first and I’ll explain things to you.” He rang a little bell that was on a side table. The witches looked around the room before choosing places to sit.

  “Last time I was here,” Maggie observed, “it certainly was in need of more paint and more loving, better curtains. You’ve certainly managed to pull that off.”

  “Yes, I had the best designers I could afford come in and totally revamp most of this building. I knew them from New York. They spent a weekend measuring and figuring out the best looks for each of the rooms. Even though I knew I was coming to a magical town, I still wanted to the best for my clients. I wanted my clients to have options, even those who know nothing about magic at all, if there are such people here in town. Of course, it took more than a weekend to transform this place.”

  “There are lots of tourists coming through. Now, just because someone might die in Hermana, the people who come to bury that person may know nothing about of the occult knowledge tucked away here by the sea,” Maggie said.

  A young lady dressed in a black dress entered the room. Aloysius nodded at her.

  “Would you care for some coffee?” he asked the witches. “Or tea? I have regular and herbal. I grow fresh mint and we can have some freshly grated ginger in it. I can have a big batch brewed up.”

  “That sounds absolutely delicious. Just make the herbal tea, no point in putting on coffee or anything else. We can focus on what we need to do with what’s going on here.”

  “Very well. A large pot of our special gingermint tea please, Maria.”

  “As you wish,” Mar
ia said and as she left the room, there was a crash. Maria rushed back in, but Aloysius waved her away.

  “Just prepare the tea, Maria. I can deal with this,” he said. Her face looked nervous as she backed out of the room.

  “As you wish, sir,” she said.

  Aloysius stood up and tried to straighten the lamp that fell over, but it seemed it wasn’t as easy as picking up the lamp. It fell over again and this time, exploded into pieces. He was pulling up the pieces, yet the pieces kept falling back on the floor.

  “This is what I’m talking about. The whatever’s here fight with me constantly. They break things and then they may let me clean them up and then once everything is tidied up, there will be a mess again.”

  “The place looks fine except for that lamp that just fell over.”

  “Well, yes. They let me fix it up a bit because they knew you were coming. Sometimes it looks like all hell has broken loose in here with the furniture and tables overturned and books flung out of the shells and onto the floor. It’s really annoying and very time-consuming to continue to pick up all these pieces all the time.”

  “Yes, I can see how that would be a pain in the ass,” said Maggie.

  “This is a brand-new business for me and as I told Dorothy the other day, I don’t believe in ghosts or at least I never did before.”

  “Interesting.”

  “It’s not interesting at all, it’s disruptive... and trying to hide this madness from the clients...”

  Madeline stood up and walked around the room with her hands out. She brought out her K2 meter as well. Dorothy watched her, but she didn’t think any of them needed a K2 meter or any other device. Dorothy could see faces in the old-fashioned wallpaper, and shadows in the corners. The shadows peeked out, long spindly fingers pointing, what could be mouths, laughing and mocking like old cartoons from the 1930s. Dorothy watched the shadow people creep around from wall to wall, peeping out from high up in the cracks. Aloysius stared at Dorothy.

  “What are you seeing?”

  “I’m not sure, just yet. Please continue with your story,” she said. Aloysius nodded and continued on.

  “I did many things when I lived in Manhattan, although my favorite was to collect artifacts. When I was young and starting out, I didn’t have the means or the money to acquire the rarities that I coveted.”

  Maria returned with a tray that held a giant pot of herbal tea and several cups and saucers. She carefully poured it out for everyone while Aloysius spoke.

  “I loved exotic lands and figured out economical ways to see them. After traveling for a while and then settling in Manhattan, my life was complete. I began to acquire a few pieces that I really enjoyed; art, paintings and such. I didn’t come from a wealthy family, I grew up in a funeral parlor, and so I made my way through a series of wealthy lovers to help me acquire some of my finest pieces. And though I suppose some would frown at me keeping pieces after a relationship is ended, a lot of the items I have are truly exotic and of the type that other people, as in regular, relatively sane people, certainly wouldn’t want for themselves.”

  “Like what, for instance?”

  “I want to give you a tour. I will explain a few of the items to you and certainly I’ve acquired pieces from around the world.

  Madeline held an ivory statue of a small, dancing naked woman in her hand.

  “Oh, I see you already... yes, yes that particular piece I had actually traveled on safari to Africa to acquire, picked up several pieces at that time. I certainly made sure the source pieces were legally obtainable to bring back to the United States.”

  “Ivory,” Dorothy mused as she took the statue and held it. It hummed in her hands. A sensation of pain flashed through her legs, arms and face and then disappeared.

  “After all, these days, though it can be too difficult to smuggle anything anymore, no matter how interesting and exotic a piece may be, no matter how much money you may have to cross the palm, customs has far too much technology and too many asskissers to really actually smuggle anything of true exotic nature from other countries anymore.”

  “And yet you have,” Madeline said quite pointedly. “I can feel it. And it’s in not this room but three doors down.”

  “What do you mean?” Aloysius asked.

  “The item that’s giving you the trouble. The item might actually be manifesting some of the poltergeist activity... not by itself but by interacting with some of the recently departed spirits.”

  The witches looked at each other thoughtfully.

  “But, you know, that seems like an obvious thing to say. How do I know you’re not full of it? That you just don’t want to take my precious artifacts?” Aloysius said. “Don’t forget, I hail from New York City where everyone is always scamming everyone else. In fact, only the very rich survive. Certainly such skills would be quite important in a town such as this.”

  “You asked us to come, we didn’t just show up for no reason. And we have zero intention of taking anything away at all.” Dorothy said. “We’re not the Warrens or that haunted antique collector guy who takes people’s haunted items to their own personal museums.”

  “Very true. I’m sorry, this situation is working my last nerve,” Aloysius said. “Perhaps confusion is a symptom.” He sipped his tea. He looked over at Dorothy, his gaze long and haunted and then he directed his attention to back to the others.

  “Yes,” Maggie said. “Certainly, any of us can pretend about anything. Almost anyone can be considered an impostor and, of course, for any items we find, we could simply make up fanciful stories without any real proof.”

  “The proof would be that ever since you took over Hearse of a Different Color there has been other activity around town.” Madeline said. Aloysius raised his eyebrow.

  “Such as?”

  “Several of the restaurants have been reporting a lot of activity, far more activity than we’ve ever experienced in the whole history of the town.” Maggie said.

  “Really?” said Aloysius.

  “A few of the hotels, inns, bed and breakfasts... have also reported more activity than usual.” Maggie said.

  “It’s quite unusual to have this much activity even in a town such as this.” Madeline added. “Without a catalyst.”

  “And so, you determined that this is a poltergeist then?”

  “I didn’t determine anything. I’m just laying out what people have been reporting to me and want me to investigate,” Madeline said. “I’m supposed to be the local ghost hunter and so when weird things happen, they call me first. Yet, someone like Natasha or Lucy might be more skilled at maybe sorting out what some of this mischief might actually be.”

  “I’m sure we can figure things out without Natasha and Lucy,” Maggie said.

  “I’ve not met Lucy yet,” Aloysius said. “I really want to one day. I hear she’s quite a fascinating woman with many stories to tell.”

  “She’s amazing. She’s one of the kindest, warmest people you’ll ever meet.” Madeline said.

  “As she must be... you lovely ladies speak so highly of her.”

  “And so, may we see the rest of the place?” Madeline set down her empty teacup. “I really feel an urge to go and look down the hall.”

  “I’m sensing energy as well so maybe there’s another round of activity getting ready to rustle up.”

  “Have you had any recently deceased people, like, say in the last week or so?”

  “Yes, there’s actually a pretty steady stream of people coming here. I’m really quite surprised. It seems that not only people from the town of Hermana want me to handle their loved ones, the people have been coming down from Boston and even as far as New Hampshire. To bring them here for me to either embalm them or cremate them. I find it strange.”

  “Well perhaps those people had made it to Hermana while they were living and have spoken to their loved ones how much they wish to be at least prepared here if not buried here. I mean how much room does the graveyard still have?”
>
  Aloysius nodded.

  “Yes, we have several graveyards and they’re going to be building a new one because we really have begun to run out of room. We don’t want to do what some of the other graveyards do which is bury people on top of other people. It just doesn’t seem right.”

  “It certainly isn’t right, and you are right not to do it for you would have far worse activity now than you ever did if you started doing something like that.”

  Aloysius took Dorothy by the hand. His clutch was cool to the touch, yet a warm current ran from her fingers to his, binding them. He looked down at their hands. Dorothy smiled. He didn’t release her hand but continued to hold it.

  “Come with me, I want to show all of you the basement.”

  They went down a hall, past a series of doors, and then descended a flight of plush carpeted stairs with garish wooden rails. When they reached the bottom, Aloysius led them through a set of double doors. He released his grip on Dorothy as he led them through more doors and rooms. The basement seemed to stretch for miles, much longer than the house. Dorothy wondered if the basement led up to other houses once or if it was deeper than other houses’ basements.

  Dorothy was getting very dizzy. The air was thicker, and the shadows danced around gleefully. There were strong chemical smells.

  “This is the embalming room. I suspect this is the source of much,” Aloysius said. He pointed to the wall of metal doors. “Those are all the fridges with the cadavers. You can see all the equipment in here.”

  Dorothy pondered the tubes, the jugs and jars, the clamps, all the steel tables and gurneys, she tried not to imagine bodies lying on the tables, waiting to be prepared.

  One of the doors rattled. The witches and Aloysius looked at it just as it snapped open and a tray with a body slid out. The force of the sliding and then the abrupt stop sent the cadaver flying across the room. Instead of it falling to the ground, it floated, the sheet that had been covering it fluttering to the floor.

  “Oh!” Dorothy clamped her hand over her mouth. Her body trembled with fear. Madeline and Maggie stood open mouthed at the floating body. Aloysius looked at them both.