by Alexie Aaron
“You’re nuts. Look what happened to me when Deville set up housekeeping,” Stewart said, letting his head loll.
“Do you have any attention of harming me?”
“No.”
Mia picked up the whistle and blew it. “Well, get a move on, I don’t have all frickin day! Move it, pick up your lazy head and jump on in,” she instructed.
Stewart King took a moment to smile before he moved into Mia’s mind.
Mia felt the weight of his soul, but that was all. She balanced her mind and walked the coach out of the gym for the last time.
~
Burt looked around nervously, watching for the old man with the shotgun. “Are you sure he’s contained?”
“He’s at the funeral home according to Susan. She’s with him and will text us when he leaves,” Mia informed him.
Burt opened the door and walked inside. Mia followed him and smiled as she didn’t feel the presence of Stewart’s great grandmother anymore. She turned and walked into the parlor and over to the portrait. She felt Stewart move within her and acknowledged his whispers. “Coach King says this is the portrait, and there are six protections holding it here. We need to find them and burn them first to release the picture from the wall.”
Mia walked into the kitchen and came out with a chipped bowl. She let Stewart guide her around the room, and soon she had all six bundles of rosemary in the bowl. Within each bundle were other items of a less than wholesome nature. Mia cringed, wondering where Stewart got ahold of gator tongue and cottonmouth skin. He told her that was best not discussed.
Mia walked outside and away from the house and cars before she set the bowl down. She lit a match, and as she dropped it into the bowl, she let Stewart chant the release spell. The flame smoldered until the dry rosemary caught fire, and then the contents exploded, sending a flame upward. If Mia hadn’t stepped backwards, she would have been mourning her eyebrows right then.
Burt watched from the porch. “What other evils lurk in that house?”
“Just the painting. We need to dig a pit and line it with yew cuttings.”
“I’ll dig the pit, you look for the yews,” he offered.
Mia found the overgrown yew bushes hugging the back of the house. She pulled out a knife and began to trim the old ornamentals of their excess baggage. She stopped when she had an adequate pile. King was humming a song in her head. “Stewart, what’s that tune?”
“Hansen Place. Shall we gather at the river...” he began to sing.
Mia interrupted him and asked, “Why?”
“It’s the only hymn I know, and it comforts me.”
“Well go ahead, but keep it down. What’s next?” she asked as she placed the yews in the pit.
“The painting. But a simple match isn’t going to catch hold,” he warned.
“Don’t worry.” Mia picked up her phone and called Ted. “Teddy Bear, we could use some plan B up at the house.”
“On our way.”
Mia listened to the PEEPs truck as it bounced and bounded its way up the drive from where Cid and Ted were keeping watch.
Ted stopped the truck, and Cid jumped out and opened the back. He came back out with the flamethrower.
Mia walked into the house and returned with the portrait. She winced as she started to see the paint move, as if the pigment itself was trying to escape its fate. She tossed it into the pit. She covered it with the remaining yews and walked away and nodded to Cid.
He turned the flame on the pit until he saw the wood catch fire. He stood back and waited.
The whoosh and crackle of the green wood combined with the acrid smell of the paint on the canvas precipitated the scream of a hundred damned souls. The PEEPs men held their hands over their ears, but Mia knew it was fruitless. That sound penetrated the soul, and the screams came from within and not from the pit itself. She didn’t fear for her partners as they were strong and would survive the mere seconds of assault.
“Hang on, men,” she said as the roar of fire continued to incinerate the portrait.
When the fire was at its strongest, what remained of Trevor Deville shot out of the pit and reached into Mia and dragged Stewart King towards the fire. Mia fought him, holding on to the whistle for dear life. She backed away and held on to King with the determination of her strong will. She felt Ted’s strong hands move around her waist and pull her back. With their combined strength, they made steady progress away from the pit. Deville’s grasp loosened as the fire ate away his strength. Stewart was pulled back into Mia. Resolute to see the last of Deville, Mia instinctually stomped the ground hard with her foot.
To hers and the men’s surprise, it opened up a chasm, and the pit of fire fell into it. The screams of the damned faded as they plummeted deeper into the ground until there was no more.
A beam of sunlight broke through the clouds and seemed to rest upon the wound in the earth for a moment. Mia shook herself to release the shock and closed her eyes to connect with the ray of light. She stomped her foot again, and the chasm disappeared.
Mia’s knees were weak, but she managed to turn and fall into Ted’s arms and not onto the ground. “What the ef just happened?” she asked him.
“Don’t know, but, Mighty Mouse, you have a hell of a stomp,” he said and held on to her shaking body. “How’s Stew, is he alright?”
“Yes, he’s singing that damn song again,” Mia reported. “Shall we gather at the river…”
“I know that one,” Ted told her. “The words are rather pretty. Maybe we should sing it at his interment?” he suggested.
“I think it would be a grand idea,” Mia said, regaining her strength. “Speaking of which, we’re going to be late unless we get moving. I need someone to burn sage in the house, just in case. I can’t do it because of my hitchhiker,” she explained.
“I’m on it,” Cid said, handing Burt the flamethrower.
“You’ll find bundles of the stuff in his kitchen cupboards,” Mia called after him.
Burt returned from packing up the back of the truck. He looked at Mia and pointed to something in the distance. “Is that who I think it is?”
Mia and Ted looked over at the windbreak, and there sitting on top of the highest branch of an old tree was a large crow.
“I don’t know, there are a lot of crows in Illinois,” Mia said, hoping Burt was wrong.
Ted’s arm around her tightened as he said, “I think that whatever, whoever it is shouldn’t concern us right now. There will be plenty of time for pondering what the hell happened here today. But right now we’re on a tight schedule. Granny’s got a date with her maker, and with luck, she will bring her great grandson along with her.”
~
Mike and Audrey stood beside Susan King. Her father-in-law, dressed in his Sunday best, stood across from the open grave, glaring at Mike as the undertaker’s assistants lowered his grandmother’s casket into the ground. They were interrupted by the arrival of the PEEPs truck followed by Mia’s F150. The four investigators got out and walked quickly over to the gravesite.
“I’m sorry we’re late,” Burt apologized. “We ran into a little problem that’s now taken care of,” he explained.
Mia walked over to King’s widow and took off the whistle and handed it to her. As she did, she nudged the spirit of Stewart out of the passages of her mind and closed the doors. “This is where your husband’s soul resides. I recommend you let him rest with his great grandmother. Maybe between the two of them they will find their way to paradise,” Mia said in a soft voice.
Susan felt the warmth of Mia on the steel of the whistle. She nodded and walked over, and once the coffin rested on the bottom of the earth, she tossed it in. “Goodbye, Stewart, I love you.”
His father scrunched up his face in confusion but managed a few words. “Rest in peace, Gma and Stewart. Find your maker and stick close. Tell him I’m on my way after a few more winters. If you see your ma, Stewy, tell her that I didn’t let her sister find out the secret to her bre
ad and butter pickles.”
Mia smiled and nodded to the preacher who was waiting patiently to begin.
Chapter Thirty-eight
Ted looked over at Mia with concern. She was quiet, too quiet. She seemed to all but sleepwalk through the burials of the Plows, Vane and Andrew Morgan. They were reinterred at the Alver Civil War tomb of the now-known soldiers. Anne was happy and full of plans for the next Memorial Day service where a plaque with the soldiers’ names would be added to the granite marker. She invited the PEEPs down. Burt said they would try to attend, but it depended on whether they were in the middle of an investigation or not. She understood but did mention that a kickass barbecue was planned at Homely’s for after the service, to sweeten the deal.
Today they would attend the service and burial of Captain William Shelby. It turned out that his family and their heirs never lost hope of finding him. There was a spot and a marker laid out between his parents and his younger brother for him. The Clive Shelbys still kept up the family home and were ecstatic when PEEPs contacted them with the information that they had found his bones. They didn’t question Mia’s request that the coffin with William’s remains rest a night in the parlor of the home. Later, one of the daughters would confide in a friend that she saw William Shelby walking through the house touching this and that with loving hands.
Today the chapel near the graveyard was filled with Shelby heirs, local dignitaries and members of PEEPs. Mia was standing at the front of the church, trying to encourage Murphy to come in and pay his respects - he said he would do so at the gravesite after the preacher had left – when Audrey arrived.
She motioned to Mia to come to the car. Mia walked down the steps, curious as to why Audrey felt she could park in the handicapped space and why she needed Mia’s help.
As she approached, the back doors opened and Dave, Richie and Mason got out. Each boy was dressed in a clean suit, and their hair may have had a comb pulled through it sometime that morning. Dave waved to her before he went to the back of the car and opened the trunk.
Mia tilted her head and smiled as the teens fussed around the final occupant of Audrey’s sedan. Dave brought forward the wheelchair, and Mason bent down and lifted the frail boy from the front seat of the car and settled him into the wheelchair. Richie tucked a Burberry blanket around his legs before moving aside.
Ira Levisohn looked up at Mia, his eyes bright and full of joy. “Miss Cooper!”
“Inky!” Mia responded as she ran the last few yards to the car. She knelt down, not caring that her hose wouldn’t survive the rough blacktop of the lot. “You came. What a wonderful surprise. William’s going to be so happy.”
Mia looked over at Audrey. “You are a woman of many surprises.”
“I thought since I was going to be bringing Dave up that maybe a few of the others would like to come along. Inky insisted. He’s been in contact with Clive Shelby. He wants to read something he wrote at the service,” she explained.
Mia leaned in and placed a kiss on Ira’s cheek as she got up. She turned and hugged each boy in turn. Mason held his elbow out to Audrey, and she took it and started up the walk.
Dave and Mia followed Richie and Ira as they worked their way up the handicap ramp and into the chapel. He leaned over to Mia and confided, “This place is full of dead people.”
“Cemeteries usually are,” Mia said as she grasped his hand in hers. “Stick with me kid, and try not to scream.”
He squeezed it hard, giving her the benefit of his strength while taking a little of hers. He sat next to her and Ted, still holding on to Mia’s hand for comfort until the service began.
The service was beautiful. Mia found to her dismay that she didn’t have enough tissues, but Ted, forever gallant, loaned her his handkerchief when her wad of Kleenex would no longer hold anymore tears. She smiled, noticing the little batwings that adorned the crisp, white linen square he handed her.
When it was time, Richie rolled Ira up to the front of the chapel. The pastor lowered the microphone so all could hear him.
“Captain William Shelby answered the call and went to war to fight for his beliefs that the union of the United States of America should hold firm. He was presented with conflict, horror and sadness but did not once lose his faith in his duty. He was asked to lead a mission that tore at his heart. One of the soldiers in his unit was facing a punishment worthy of the crime he was convicted with. Along the way, a betrayal by one of his men resulted in all in his party being killed. For years they rested without names in a graveyard cared for by strangers.”
Ira took a moment to look up and acknowledge Anne with a kind glance before he continued, “But now Captain William Shelby has been brought home to St. Charles, a place that he spoke of with love and reverence to his friends. This brave soldier led his men with dignity and honor. Let’s honor him now with a few moments of silence. Pray for his soul. Pray that he will be reunited with his loved ones that have already gone ahead to their reward.”
Ira bowed his head and others followed. Mia looked over and saw William standing just behind Ira, looking at the assembly before him. He, in turn, took off his hat and knelt down in prayer. When he rose, he laid his hand on top of Ira’s head. He looked over at Mia and Dave smiling. He put on his hat, saluted and disappeared.
~
“Do you think he’s in heaven now?” Ira asked Mia.
They were sitting, overlooking the Fox River. Mia sat on a green park bench, Ira in his chair. They had just left the graveyard and were waiting for tables to become available at the restaurant behind them. Mike was picking up the tab so they would dine well.
Mia pondered his question. She told Ira about what she had seen during the service, but it didn’t guarantee that Shelby chose to move on. “Does it matter? I’m sure he wouldn’t be rejected if he showed up. He was a man of quality.”
“You think he’s still here haunting this town, don’t you?” he accused.
“Let’s say that he’ll leave when he’s ready,” Mia said, patting his hand. She changed the subject, “So, what’s in the playbook for Inky Levisohn?”
“I’m going to tutor Mason Callen until he’s prepared to take his SATs. Can you believe he hasn’t taken them yet?”
“I can believe it,” Mia said, knowing the Callen history.
“After that I’m going to apply for early admission to go to college fulltime. I can’t see wasting my time in high school at this point.”
“You’ll miss out on all the socialization…”
“Please, that’s the last thing I want to deal with right now,” Inky said with disdain.
“Is this Inky talking or Ira in the wheelchair speaking?” Mia asked.
“I don’t understand.”
“You admire Captain Shelby, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course.”
“He not only commanded his men, but he socialized with them. He loved to hear and tell a story. His men were his friends and as important to him as his family was. You can’t cut off part of you because it’s difficult right now,” Mia said sternly.
Ira thought a moment. “I may never leave this chair, Mia. I’m lucky I can do all I can do, considering the length of time I was out of my body. I have to be reasonable.”
Mia chose then to tell him the story of Sabine and Brian.
“So she was attracted to his persona?”
“No, you weren’t listening; she was attracted to his soul. It wouldn’t have mattered that he was infirmed nor if he was handsome and dashing like Mr. Dupree. Sabine loves his confidence and sociability. It makes up for the awkwardness in her.”
Ira thought a moment. “You are a wise woman, Mia.”
“Nah, just been around. I wouldn’t give up on your legs yet. My legs are always the last to come around after I bilocate, just saying…”
Ira nodded. “Okay, so I’ll take all this into consideration.”
“You sound like an old man. Come and spend some time with Ted and Cid for a while, embrace
the child within,” Mia advised. “Hey, Ted’s waving us over.” Mia got up and, after two tries, disengaged the brakes on the chair and rolled him over.
Chapter Thirty-nine
Mia put the finishing touches on Murphy’s space in the barn. She and Ted had run cable to the spot where the new television sat. The ghost’s EMF had to be taken into account, and Ted devised a remote control that would insulate against a Murphy assault on the electronics.
Murphy had taken a liking to the wood rockers they had on the porch of the Cracker Barrel, a place where Ted and Mia stopped on the way back from St. Charles to stock up on Red Vines red licorice. Mia purchased two of them, one a double, on the spot.
She placed them in front of the television before sitting down in the loveseat-sized rocker. Soon the other chair was rocking.
“So what will be your viewing pleasure tonight?”
Mia handed him the remote.
Murphy shook his head and instead spoke, “You, what’s the matter?”
“Ah, Murph, I’m worried. In case you missed it, I have feathers now.” Mia dropped the shoulder of her sweater and showed Murphy her back. “You may not be able to see them, but Burt assures me they are there.”
“Angelo,” Murpy spat.
“Yes, Angelo. I talked to my aunt, and she thinks that the fast healing may be residual. Like how it takes a while to get steroids out of your… er… a live person’s system. She thinks it will fade in time.”
“Wings?”
“I didn’t tell her about them. Honestly, I don’t know who to talk to about the wings.”
