by Kris Calvert
They were planning to stay all night. Ray hadn’t exactly been on board with everything from the start, but in the end, I knew he wanted to live in peace in our new home as much as I did. That wasn’t going to happen until this was put to rest.
The grandfather clock chimed eight and right on cue, the doorbell rang. I’d tried my best to make the house look presentable, but there was only so much I could do while the renovation was in full swing. The one thing I’d promised Ray was that no matter how many buckets of water were spilled in the hallways, no matter how many times we found the one-eyed doll in a new location, we’d keep on renovating the house. I promised we’d stay on schedule to be nearly finished by spring and so far, I’d kept that promise. What I hadn’t kept were workers.
The painters and finishing carpenters had a hard time some days. One actually ran from the house, and when I told him he’d have to come back to pick up his check he told me on no uncertain terms that I could keep my money. He was never stepping foot in Park Avenue again. Still, a few of them managed to stick around. It was a constant battle of opening and closing doors, missing tools and building supplies.
“Welcome, “Ray said as he allowed them to file into our home one by one. “Hey Jess,” he said as he hugged her. “It’s good to see you.”
“You, too,” she said.
I knew my boyfriend and best friend had a love-hate relationship, but it was only because they both cared. I was willing to deal with it in order to have both of them in my life.
“Hey guys,” I said, walking into the entrance hall.
“Everyone,” Jess began. “This is Eliza Lovelace.”
“Call me Liz or Lizzie,” I replied as I began to shake hands. “Welcome to our home.”
“Lizzie, this is Dr. Martin Winters, he’s a leading parapsychologist in the area of—well, let’s just say he knows demons.”
Martin was as nerdy as I expected. Tall and lanky, he had a head full of wild gray hair, glasses and an overbite that caused him to slur his S’s. I liked him immediately.
“Johns Hopkins to be exact.” He firmly shook my hand. “Although don’t tell them I’m there. They’ve got me in a basement—hidden like a redheaded stepchild. I like it that way.”
“Nice to meet you Dr. Winters.”
“Call me Martin.”
“Martin. This is my boyfriend, Ray Huxley.”
“This,” Jess said as she pushed a tiny man in front of her, “is Craig. Craig Short.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your last name.” In reality I did. I just wanted to make sure the petite man’s name really was Short.
“Yes, I know. I was graced with bad genes and a horrible last name. I suppose it’s better than being Richard Stroker though, right? I count my blessings,” he said, with a toothy grin.
Too tall to be a little person, he was really too short to be the regular kind of person, but his smile and quick wit won me over in an instant. I held up my hands in surrender. “No judgment here. I share a last name with a seventies porn star—no relation, of course. Mr. Short, this is my boyfriend, Ray.”
He nodded at my joke and let out an awkward guffaw as he shook Ray’s hand before stepping aside for the last piece of the puzzle to enter the house.
“This…” Jess began as if she was introducing the next contestant on the Price is Right, “This is Magda Messer.”
“Welcome to our home, Magda.” I shook her hand and watched her look around the entrance hall. She was there for the house, not for me. I found it somehow unsettling. “This is Ray, my boyfriend. We live together. Here.”
“Nice to meet you,” Ray said, extending his hand.
Magda was in her forties. Elegant and slightly standoffish, I got the feeling she was a woman not to be trifled with. I was drawn to the gray streak of hair that framed her porcelain doll-like face and I found it hard not to compare her with what I thought a person who spoke with the dead should look like—although I really had no preconceived notion as to what that should be. In her long black skirt that touched the floor and the fur collar on her bulky sweater, I wondered if she scared children in her neighborhood. She was definitely the kind of woman the kids on the block would think a witch.
I banished the thought and tried to concentrate. My writer’s head was always intruding in my real life. The woman wasn’t a witch, she was a psychic medium.
Looking to Jess for a cue, I extended my arm and spoke to them all. “Welcome to our home. We’ve been here just a couple of months and—”
“Please,” Magda interrupted, “No background information.”
I glanced at Jess who was raising her eyebrows and smirking at me. “Right. I think I knew that. You can set up wherever you need to, and I’ll just stay out of the way.”
Magda began what Jess had told me would be a sweep of the house. Jess followed her with a note pad and pencil in case Magda had something important she wanted to say.
As soon as they were gone, Craig and Martin came to me immediately. “We don’t operate like Magda,” Craig said. “I’d like to know where you’ve seen the most activity in the house. I’m going to set up some digital and video cameras with motion detectors to see what we can catch on film.”
I nodded but couldn’t get a word in before Martin joined the conversation. “Ditto for me. I’m going to go from room to room with an EMF detector—that’s an electromagnetic field detector. It will track energy sources and fluctuations and low strength moving fields that don’t have a source. The entity can disrupt the field and I can tell if one is present by higher than normal readings with the meter. I’ll do an initial walk through just so I know where all the electronic equipment in the house is located because that can throw my readings off.”
“O-Okay,” I stuttered. “I’m a little overwhelmed right now. I have butterflies in my stomach and my head, so just bear with me while I point you in the right direction.”
“It’s normal to be scared, Miss Lovelace,” Craig said. “I mean we’re here to confirm everything you’re seeing and hearing is real. If it’s not…well…you know. So take your time.”
Craig’s pep talk had left a lot to be desired and I looked to Ray to come to my rescue.
“Let me walk you through the house and I can give you an idea of some of the more active areas. How’s that?” Ray said.
“Just lead the way,” Dr. Winters replied.
I walked to the old table left behind in the otherwise empty dining area. It was a more central location of the house—a place where we could see into the front hall, the parlor, and up the staircase. If anyone who wasn’t a real person was going to show up tonight, I wanted Jess’ team to have a front row seat.
I moved all the items Jess had requested to the center of the table. The heavy oak with its marble top had sat in the same spot for eons. When the demo crew had asked to move it I’d told them to have at it. But when four men couldn’t budge the table, it was concluded amongst them that it must weigh more than seven hundred pounds. We’d found the chairs that went with it in different parts of the house, and finally set the six we had located around the large circle. I sat down, running my hands across the cool marble top and took a deep breath. Craig Short was right, I might find out that I’m insane tonight.
Jess and Magda came down the stairs and I watched Magda almost float past me in her black maxi skirt. Pushing the door to the kitchen open, she whisked through to the other side and I wondered what she’d found on her little tour of Park Ave.
At Ray’s urging, I’d placed the items back in the closet where I’d found them. In his mind, there was no need to ask for trouble. In my mind, we asked for it the day we walked through the front door.
Ray descended the staircase by himself and stood in front of me, hooking his hands on his waist, giving me the half crooked grin he knew would solicit a smile from me. “Have I told you how much I love you today?” I asked.
“No,” he said as he took a seat beside me, and my hand in his.
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�I love you very much, Horatio Huxley.”
Bringing our threaded fingers to his lips, he kissed the top of my hand. “I love you too, Eliza.”
Nodding my chin toward the staircase I asked the obvious question. “What’s going on up there?”
“The Ghostbusters are setting up.”
I giggled, bumping shoulders with Ray. “I’m serious.”
“I am too. Dr. Venkman and Egon are hard at work. I just hope they brought their flux capacitors.”
I laughed but stifled it quickly as Jess approached and I whispered under my breath. “If you’re going to make eighties movie references, you could at least get them right.”
“Where are the others? Jess asked as she walked to the table alone.
I answered, knowing Ray making fun wasn’t going to go over well. “Ray said they were upstairs. He showed them some of the more active areas.”
Jess shot Ray a steely glare. “Magda’s ready to get started when you are.”
“Okay,” I replied. “But shouldn’t we wait for the others to come down? After the inspirational chat I had with the photographer I think I’d like some hard evidence before you guys leave.”
“I understand.”
“Where’s Magda?” I asked.
“She wanted to go outside, into your garden.”
I craned my neck to watch Magda through the window as she walked around the sawhorses and piles of sand and bricks. “There’s only been one incident out there.”
“To be fair, we’ve only been out there once,” Ray added. “It’s been more of a dumping ground for building scraps.
“Hang tight. She’ll be right back inside and as soon as the guys get down here we can begin.”
I felt a lump form in my throat and I grabbed my best friend’s hand and squeezed. “Tell me this is all going to be okay. Tell me I’m doing the right thing.”
Jess gave me a reassuring smile. “You’re doing the right thing. And by the way,” she said as she dropped my hand to walk back to the kitchen, “I did have to cancel my hair appointment so we need to get busy with it. Tonight we’re gettin’ you right with God, girl.”
Two hours later, the guys had systematically gone through all the rooms upstairs taking photos and asking questions along the way. When we met back up with everyone, Craig was flushed and Martin was as wide-eyed as a child on Christmas morning.
“Did you find something?” I asked as they both came to the table, taking a seat.
Craig began to speak, but Martin stopped him. “We’ll discuss everything after Magda is finished,” Martin explained. “I think that’s best.”
I didn’t say anything, but nodded. Ray gave my hand a squeeze and I looked around the table at all the faces. All I could think was, what in the hell have I gotten myself into?
“Jess.” Magda’s voice was soft. “Please get the lights.”
While Jess left the table to turn off the last vestige of ambience, I watched as Magda lit three candles in the center of the table and closed her eyes. This was it.
14
BEAUTY
“I don’t understand,” I cried as the man held me by the arm and shoved me into a shining black carriage. Cracking my head against the frame of the door, I saw stars all around me and I found it impossible to fight any longer.
Questioned in an open court, Lord Lupus had spoken on my behalf explaining that I wasn’t a risk to myself or anyone else. When asked if I wanted to be free from Rosewood, I simply answered from the heart, “yes.”
I thought I was being granted my independence, but when it was over I was escorted out of the castle and shoved into the carriage. Closing my eyes, I concentrated on the smell of the leather seat as we drove onward. I was away from Rosewood, but I feared it wasn’t the kind of freedom I’d longed for.
I rubbed the knot on the top of my head. The bumps and bruises were becoming too much to bear. I was covered from head to toe and yet it didn’t matter in the slightest. The long white dress I wore covered my frail body and all its imperfections.
I closed my eyes as a tear rolled down my cheek. What was to become of me? My life seemed to be an endless set of circumstances that no one would explain to me—even in my fantasy where I ran away, or my prince came to save me, I never knew what happened next. Maybe this was what happened next. Maybe I was only put on this earth to not understand my purpose.
The carriage came to an abrupt halt and I opened my eyes to face my new existence—my new nightmare. The door swung open, a strong hand pulled me from the seat and onto the pavement. The sun had begun to set as I looked up to the white stone house with the red tile roof. Lights flickered in the windows and a chill came over my body as a cold wind blew through my thin dress.
“Where am I?” I asked the man.
“You’re home.”
Taking me by the arm once again, I looked over my shoulder for Sir. I needed some reference point that where I was coming from was also where I was going.
Walking behind the massive stone home, I watched as the iron gate was locked behind me. Shoving me through and onto the brick pavement I looked up at the man who only sneered. I’d escaped Anna and stumbled back into a dark and a derisive existence.
“Get up,” he said. “Don’t make me pick you up. You’ll be sorry if that happens for sure.”
Scrambling to my feet, I stood again only to wobble and fall into a thorny rose bush. Righting myself as fast as my sense of balance would allow, I brushed the thorns from my palm, tucking the small rosebud that broke off in my hand behind my back.
Through the courtyard and into the kitchen, he shoved me again—but this time I was prepared and stayed on my feet.
“What a piece of shit this is,” said a woman in the kitchen. She stirred a pot of something that smelled edible and gave me a scowl. “Get her upstairs with the others before Madam gets home. I’ll send someone up with something for her to wear.”
The man nodded, jerking my arm tightly and walking me as if I wasn’t capable through a swinging door that led to a beautiful parlor—it reminded me of my own home. The fire roared in the fireplace keeping the room aglow with warmth. A giant table sat in the dining hall, set with beautiful dishes and glassware. The centerpiece was an arrangement of red roses—no doubt from the garden.
I clutched the small bud in my hand and hoped I would have time in the garden to enjoy the flowers.
“Get a move on,” he said. “We haven’t got all day.”
I hurried up the circular stairs, looking to the top for where it might lead. On the third turn I could see the destination—a closed door.
“The others will tell you what to do. She’s bringing you a dress. If Madam catches you looking like this there’ll be hell to pay for all of us. Now,” he said as he unlocked the door with a large skeleton key, “Get in there and stay quiet. She hates the screamers.”
Shoving me through the door, he locked it behind me. I placed my open palm on the hard wood. I’d traded one prison for another.
“Beauty?”
Gasping, I turned to see where the voice was coming from. “Who’s there?”
“It is you?” Christine asked as she stepped into the light of the window. Dressed in gray, the long gown was nice, but covered with a white frilly apron. Tucked under her arm was her baby doll.
“Christine, what are you doing here?” I asked as she came to me, embracing my neck and hugging my body tightly.
“I don’t…” She hesitated. “How did you get here, Beauty? How?”
I shook my head as I held her at arms length. “I…I don’t know exactly.”
“Me either. But I came with Zara.”
“What?
The shock on my face said everything I couldn’t. “She’s downstairs right now.”
“Doing what?”
“Mopping.”
“I thought I was going to be free.”
“We are.”
“Christine, if we’re locked up, we’re not free.”
I began
to pace the room. I didn’t know what I was looking for exactly—clues to my new life perhaps. There were four beds, all made tidily and one small closet. There was no door handle, but there was a lock. “What’s in here?” I asked as I opened the door.
“That’s our room.” Christine slurred her words, but I understood her. “You can put your bag in there.”
“This isn’t our room?”
Christine shook her head. “We get to sleep here. But it’s not ours. Zara and I climb in the closet. Mostly we try to hide from him, but it doesn’t always work.”
“Why are you hiding?”
Christine looked away from me, hugging her baby doll tightly to her chest. “I’m not supposed to talk about it. Zara said so.”
The door flew open and another woman came in. “Here,” she said with a heavy gruff as she threw a dress and apron into my arms. “Put this on. And shine those horrid shoes. Madam will have my head if you girls keep looking like you wandered in off the street.”
In and out before I could speak, I heard the lock click and I turned back to Christine who was sucking her thumb and swaying back and forth comforting her doll. “That’s Miss Mae. She takes care of Miss Elizabeth.”
“Who is Miss Elizabeth?”
“The daughter. She’s not nice.”
I nodded, taking Christine by the hand and asking her to sit with me on the bed. “Tell me where we are, Christine.”
She shook her head and held back her tears. “I don’t know.”
Hugging her again, I swayed our bodies back and forth. “It’s gonna be okay. We’re away from Rosewood and Anna, so that has to be a good thing. Right?”
“She’s just as bad as Anna,” Christine murmured into my shoulder.