by Kim Hornsby
I got the ball from the doorway. “I’m trying to get proof that I have moments of sight for someone who’s trying to tell the world that I’m blind.”
“You are blind, without me,” Caspian said, stating the obvious.
“Yes, but I don’t want the world to know that.”
“You’re asking me to help you engage in a lie, then?” he said smugly.
“It’s not a lie if I can kick around this soccer ball though, is it?” I balanced the ball on my instep then flicked it over my head, a trick I’d spent more time learning in my youth than learning math.
Carlos ran in the room with the camera and set it on another table across the room. He checked in the viewfinder, setting up a wide shot while I did tricks for Caspian.
“I look pretty dull and ordinary for Moody,” I said, knowing my hair wasn’t spiked, my makeup was gone, and my scar was in full view. “I’ll stand over here to show my good side.”
“Here we go,” Carlos said, hitting the start button. “4, 3, 2…”
“Hi, everyone,” I waved to the camera. “Today there was some speculation about my ability to see and I just wanted to show you that I can see just fine and am not blind like someone suggested on his very erroneous blog today. And I’m not drunk or drinking or in rehab or any of the other things that are circulating about me on the internet. For reference to the day, I’ll mention that a statue was erected in Seattle to commemorate the late great Chris Cornell of Sound Garden and the Seahawks lost to the Rams last night.” I made a sad face. “So now you know that this is the next day. Hey Carlos, want to play some ball?”
Eve came down the hall, a look of surprise on her face that turned to amusement. “I’ll play too, Moody.”
I wondered if Caspian could kick the ball. I looked over to him and he shot me a look to say it was beneath him. I dropped the soccer ball and kicked it to Carlos who returned it to me. I was a pretty good kicker having spent lots of hours by myself in various relatives’ backyards kicking a ball while my mother dated. I kicked it to Eve, who kicked it to Carlos, who kicked it back to me. When I kicked it again, explaining to the camera that, “I would not be able to do this if I was blind,” Eve missed the ball and it rolled to Caspian’s feet.
He nudged it with his boot back to Eve. Carlos stopped dead in his tracks. Eve’s eyes widened. Then I realized that no one but me knew why the ball suddenly stopped, changed direction and sped up.
I moved towards the camera, knowing that my viewers would now see the scar that dominated the left side of my face, but I didn’t care. “Mood Peeps, did you see the ball change direction just now?”
“What happened?” Carlos said still on camera.
“You just witnessed,” I said laughing, “an apparition kick a ball. Caspian, who is sitting in that chair,” I pointed, “kicked the ball to Eve!” I turned to my cousin. “I know you can’t see him but you and everyone else who’s watching just saw that ball stop and change direction. What I saw was the ball rolled to Caspian’s boot and he directed it back to Eve. I can’t believe we got that incredible moment on tape!” I went to the ball, kicked it to Caspian and he let it slide through his feet to hit the wall, looking horrified at me.
“Come on Caspian,” I pleaded.
“You want me to do party tricks for your friends? No thank you!” He stood and mounted the stairs like I’d just delivered the biggest insult, my sight disappearing with him.
***
What had I learned from trying to get Caspian to kick the ball on camera? Mostly, that I was a jerk. I’d asked this amazing being to perform on camera like a trained dog. As we sat in silence eating dinner, I thought about the look on his face when I kicked the ball to him the second time. He’d looked like he couldn’t believe that someone he trusted would use him this way.
Kicking the ball the first time, had been a mistake of direction on my part and instinct on his. Asking him to kick it a second time was insulting. Especially for a sea captain, a man used to giving commands and being respected. I was well aware that Caspian thought highly of himself and had high ideals. He didn’t want me to lie to the world about my vision and he wouldn’t do parlor tricks on command. I sulked as I ate my chicken stir fry that Eve made for us.
Rachel droned on and on about her boyfriend visiting and how I’d have to make it look like I’d done the reading in Mrs. G’s house or she was going to look like a lying fool in front of Ron, something I didn’t care to dispute. Eve and Carlos ate silently, and we let Rachel plead her case with no feedback, instead tuning her out. At least, I hoped that Eve and Carlos were able to tune her out.
Was Caspian roaming around in another part of the house? I wasn’t sure but I knew he was staying away from me intentionally. I’d betrayed him and I needed to offer an apology.
We planned to upload the footage of us playing soccer after dinner, the nighttime being when most supernatural fans were most actively online. Carlos had checked to make sure we got a good chunk of me playing soccer and referencing the day. He’d said I’d looked right into the camera, made a face, and then started to kick the ball. “Your scar isn’t even visible,” he’d lied. “Even so, he said, no one will think about it when they see the tape of Eve missing the ball, it rolling towards an empty chair, stopping and changing direction for no apparent reason.”
“Part of me wants to not air Caspian’s kick,” I said with a mouthful of vegetables. “And the rest of me wants to show this phenomenon.” I hadn’t yet decided how to approach this situation. It would be a grand gesture and apology if I had Carlos cut the tape at Caspian’s kick and didn’t use it. That would prove to Caspian that he mattered enough to me to not treat him like a performing pet.
But the ball changing direction with no reason was an amazing piece of footage, I believed, having not actually seen it. Eve said it was startling and Carlos had zoomed in to show the soccer ball had not hit anything to make it not only change directions one hundred and eighty degrees, but go much faster, as if someone had kicked it.
“I still think it’s weird you can kick a ball,” Rachel said. “That’ll shut up this Bane guy for sure.”
My mother had no idea how I managed to play soccer and wasn’t entirely believing that I could hear and sense the ball. It was only a matter of time until I would have to admit that I saw in the presence of Caspian. Either that, or my mother would have to go home to Seattle. It was too difficult keeping my secret from her, all for the sake of not giving her too much information about me in case she took that information and turned it into a business. I did not want my mother in my work and had made that abundantly clear over the years.
Eve took my plate to the sink. “You have to weigh if your relationship with Caspian is more important than showing the ball footage.”
“Relationship with Caspian?!” my mother shrieked. “Caspian is your new boyfriend? Oh no, no, no, no, no.”
If I could have, I would have pinned her to the chair with a look. And, why couldn’t I have a new boyfriend? Not that Caspian was anything to me other than a ghost that gave me sight. But what business was it of hers? “Why not, Mother?”
“He’s a ghost, for one thing,” she said, sputtering her words. “Please tell me that you are not involved with a damp sea captain from the last century.”
How did my mother know that Caspian was damp? My worry that there’d been something between he and my mother back when she was younger, surfaced again. Could an Alive even have a sexual relationship with a ghost? I didn’t know but having seen Caspian and knowing my hot to trot mother, I’d wager a bet that she tried her damnedest to bed my sea captain ghost. If I was able to touch him, what’s the difference between that and taking things further?
“Rachel, if I am involved with Caspian Cortez, that’s no business of yours. I’m still a vibrant woman, young enough to want to fall in love again and who I fall in love with is none of your beeswax. I could do lots worse than feeling romantically about the ghost of a man who is tender with small ch
ildren and knows the difference between letting an adult channel spirits and letting a child take on an evil apparition all in the name of money.”
Rachel’s mouth hung open in indignation. I knew this because during my speech, I’d gained vision, something I hadn’t noticed, being too wrapped up in defending myself. However, now I saw Rachel standing beside her chair, hands on hips, mouth open, eyes wide, looking speechless.
Caspian stood in the doorway, behind her, staring at me and looking equally speechless.
Chapter 11
Our plan to contact Jacqueline at midnight was put on hold. My relationship with Caspian had suffered today and although I hoped to have a face to face talk with him, I didn’t want to play the medium in Cove House tonight. I wanted to make things right with Caspian.
I’d seriously considered not showing Caspian’s kick, which is what we now called our phenomenal footage of a ghost playing soccer. After hearing my speech in the kitchen to my mother, Caspian had backed away and my sight darkened. I didn’t blame him. Hearing me talking about how I’d fall in love with anyone I chose to, including Caspian, was most likely taken the wrong way. He probably got the wrong idea that I had the hots for him and went to pace the third floor wondering how to let me down easily.
I wasn’t in love with Caspian, of course. I’d only said that my mother shouldn’t have an opinion about who I love. I also did not dispute the claim. Purposely. To get to my mother. I was thinking she probably still worried that I had feelings for a ghost. Either that or she was jealous.
After I’d loaded the dishwasher by feeling around and having Eve talk me through it, we gathered in the library to talk about the evening’s plan. Rachel had gone to her room, my room, to sulk. Hopefully to think about changing rooms. Her snoring had kept me awake last night. Hodor too, judging from his lazy day of lying around on my feet.
“Let’s load the soccer game and hold off on Caspian’s kick. Cut it off at my last kick.”
“I won’t erase it, just in case you change your mind,” Carlos said. “I don’t agree with your decision, but it’s not up to me.”
“Or me,” Eve said. “Although I think you made the right choice.”
Hodor started sniffing again and I wondered if Moonraker was close. The presence of the cat did not always mean Caspian was near. His kitty roamed the house freely without him sometimes.
“What do you smell boy?” Carlos asked.
“Probably Moonraker,” I said. “But I’m sure he can’t see him. I can’t see him either, unless Caspian is in the room, but I can feel him against my legs sometimes.”
“Jesus!” Carlos said. I heard rustling from Carlos and assumed he was freaking out about the cat. “Eve, have you felt the cat?”
“No, and I doubt you will, Carlos. Your only indication that a cat is in the room is Hodor sniffing and he could be smelling anything.”
Just then a noise like something had fallen from the desk, made me jump. Carlos’s footsteps hurried from the desk to across the room by Hodor. “Something just knocked that glass to the floor,” he said.
Eve crossed to the desk. “Just a plastic glass, Bryn. I’d say the cat is on the desk, but I can’t feel him.”
I wondered if Eve was putting her hands through Moonraker as he bedded down across the room probably watching Hodor. I stood and found my way to the desk where I felt the warm furry body of the big tabby cat. He let me take him in my arms. “He’s here, purring and only wanting to be a part of this nice little family,” I said in a funny voice, hoping Carlos would cut the cat some slack.
“What are you afraid a cat will do, Carlos?” Eve asked.
“I don’t know what it can do because I never stick around long enough to find out,” he said. “I’m going to take Hodor outside for a wee wee and when we come back, I hope the cat is gone.”
“I wish I could pet Moonraker. I love cats.” Eve stood beside me as I petted the purring cat.
“When Caspian is near, this cat jumps on his lap and snuggles into him.”
“That’s sweet. Does Caspian like dogs?” Eve asked.
“I’m not sure because his cat is always around him. I’d say he probably does but Moonraker lived on the ship with him.” A thought jumped into my head that I might be able to get something about Caspian’s death from delving into Moonraker’s mind. I’d been able to get thoughts from Hodor before. “I wonder if Moon died at the same time as Caspian?” I said.
“Why doesn’t Caspian remember how he died?”
“He believes he was knocked unconscious and then killed.” I hadn’t yet told Eve that the blood on the wall in the Bloody Bedroom was Caspian’s. Or that Jaqueline had stabbed him, but it didn’t result in his death. Did I know that for a fact, or was my ghost leading me down a path to throw me from a clue to his death, although I had no reason to believe that was something he might do or benefit from.
“I have a lot to ask him when he next appears,” I said. “I hate to cancel the ongoing investigation tonight, so I can talk to Caspian and then him not show up.”
“I think he’ll be happy to hear you didn’t sell him out on the show with that kick,” Eve said. “When he comes back.”
“If he comes back,” I added.
***
The next morning, we needed groceries and although I was too scared to leave the house for fear of being filmed by the lurking Bane Jackson and his flying robot, Eve and Rachel headed into Smuggler’s Cove. Joan Hightower had information about the sale of the house in the 1850s and about the arrest of the former owner who was accused of smuggling. She’d made photocopies of the information, I guess forgetting about my inability to see anything.
While the women were gone, I decided to work on my Braille lessons in the library, seated at the desk with my laptop. I used a voice recognition software I’d named Moneypenny having given her a soft voice with an English accent like in the James Bond movies. I smiled as I listened to her explain how to summon a ghost with a needle, red wool, piece of paper, a marker and five candles. I’d Googled this before starting my lesson.
Carlos was working on his laptop in the kitchen, a room he believed the cat had not ever been seen in. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I’d felt the feline against my leg while having coffee one morning.
As Moneypenny was instructing me to spin the paper by holding the wool, I noticed my vision returning. The pitch black in front of my face became grey and soon I saw the outline of darker and lighter objects. I tried to avoid spinning around to look for Caspian, blinking, rubbing my eyes and anything else I usually did when this happened.
“Hello Caspian,” I said, closing my laptop.
“Hello Bryndle.” This might have been the first time he called me by my name. Caspian usually said, “m’lady” or “Mrs. Moody,” or simply didn’t address me. His use of my given name caught me off guard and hearing it said in his voice had an effect on me. I’d been hoping he’d return, hoping he wouldn’t be so insulted he never appeared before me again. His use of my given name was a step in the right direction. I hoped.
“I’m sorry I insulted you.” I said these words before he said anything to ruin the moment.
“Apology accepted.” He moved around my chair where I could see him, in front of the desk.
“I didn’t show anyone the tape of you kicking the ball,” I said to him.
He nodded, knowingly.
“I worried you were staying away because of that, but also because you misheard what I was telling my mother.” I wasn’t sure I wanted to talk about what I’d said to my mother about my relationship with Caspian. It probably had sounded like I thought Caspian was swoon-worthy, but I’d only been insinuating this to bait my mother.
Caspian’s eyes had a softness, and his mouth gave nothing away of his mood as he stared at me. “Your scar is not so hideous, now that I’m used to it.”
I smiled. “Is that a compliment? Because if it was meant as a compliment, it wasn’t a very good one.”
“A
n observation.” There was an awkward silence between us as I waited for him to speak. What questions were in those dark eyes today? I would wait for his next words, especially since I sensed he had something important to tell me. I was really good at this not talking first.
Finally, he sat in the chair across from the desk, facing me. “I have a confession.”
For such a large, handsome man, he looked surprisingly vulnerable at this moment. He was wringing his hands, his forehead lined in worry.
I steeled myself to hear the worst, the worst being that my mother and Caspian had been in love, were still in love. “Were you and my mother lovers?” I clearly could not get past this idea.
Caspian took a deep breath. “I know you sense a history with your mother and I and it’s true. We shared something.”
I felt like breakfast was on the way back up. I gulped and tried to not look like my puppy died.
“You look so much like she did,” he whispered.
Those wistful words made me almost cry out. I knew I looked like Rachel. According to photos of her when she was my age, we could have been twins. “Now you know my secret.” I said evasively. Two could play this game.
“What secret is that?”
“Why I wear my hair this way, color it blue, and live in men’s pants instead of wearing dresses like Rachel.”
He smiled at me with the recognition of why my look was bizarre to him. “That makes more sense than anything else you’ve told me.”
“And you loved my mother?” I had to know.
“No.”
His answer was fast. Was it too fast? “What did you share with her?” I had to know.
Caspian looked pained and laid his hands flat on his thighs to still them. “I shared a secret with her.”
“About what?”
“I can’t say.”
“Why?
“Because only she could know. But my confession to you tonight is not about that, Bryndle.”
