The House on Xenia

Home > Other > The House on Xenia > Page 4
The House on Xenia Page 4

by Rita Moreau


  Velma had called me earlier that morning while I was waiting for Limo Louie to blow off steam and tell me about their latest conversation. Rodeo was ready to buy them a car, but Velma was not.

  “So you and Rodeo had another talk this morning about buying a car for the girls,” I said when she got off her cell and rolled her eyes while shaking her head.

  “Nope. Not going to happen. Do you know what Rodeo said to me?” Velma stood up for emphasis and put her hands on her hips. Rodeo stood military taller than his six feet plus. Velma is all of five feet four but quite voluptuous. She possesses a beautiful face with deep, dark eyes.

  “Worse things can happen to them, Velma. I went off to war when I was a few years older,” Velma said attempting to mimic Rodeo and stand on her tippy toes.

  We both grew up in Fish Camp, and our paths seemed to crisscross starting with our working days at the IRS. Because I was also always on some new diet, she and I bonded through her battle to keep her weight under control. She blamed her weight problem solidly on the men in her life and their preference for women with a little ‘junk in the trunk’ as she put it. “That’s just the way it is with black men,” she would tell me. “They prefer women with a little meat on their bones, not like white men who like their women all bone.”

  “Velma, he does have a good point.”

  “MC you know all the kids their age think they have to have their noses in their devices all the time. How are they going to drive? Nope. Rodeo and I will share our cars with them until they graduate from high school and are getting ready to go off to college. We’ll just blow up that bridge when we get there.”

  “Velma, they will still have those devices when they head off to college. Nothing is going to change. At least, if they got a car now, you could supervise their driving and make sure they don’t drive with their noses in those devices.”

  She looked at me while the light bulb went off in her head. I heard an audible “humph” as she got up and gave me another big hug and in Velma fashion changed the subject while pointing me in the direction of my old office.

  “It’s so good to have you back, and I can’t wait until you are back permanently. Come into your old laboratory,” she said in her best pantomime of Dracula. She loved spooky movies.

  “Well that may be a few more months, but I’m here now while Aunt Sophia gets back on her feet.”

  “Your office awaits you,” Velma said as she escorted me back to my old office. “Izzy, say hi to MC,” she said as she nudged me into my office. I watched as Izzy hopped down from his perch. He did a little happy dance, ran around the room a couple of times, thumped his little tail and then scurried back up to his perch. Velma smiled his way. “Good boy.”

  Velma had Rodeo build him a home on top of an old filing cabinet. It was basically a five-star iguana resort. Yeah, not much had changed as I looked around the office. Work was piled all along the walls and on top of my old desk. Charlie was making sure I felt right at home.

  “I guess he is happy to see me,” I said and walked over and blew Izzy a kiss. “Love you too Izzy.” He eyed me for a second and then settled in for a nap.

  “We have several IRS audits of clients going on. Two have made their way to appeals after Charlie wrote the protest letters and the appeals officers are calling to set up appointments. I have several power of attorney forms for you to sign. We’ll get those faxed over and then you can return their calls and set up conferences.”

  And with that, I sat down, got comfortable and returned to my old life. It was good to be back.

  I had kept my CPA license current and kept up with tax law changes. My home field was handling IRS audits and representing clients before the appeals office. Many CPAs were not comfortable doing this type of work. It was my background. You could say I had a reputation as someone who knew how to deal with the IRS. Being psychic didn’t hurt. My last years with the IRS, as part of the secret group deep within the IRS, I worked closely with spooks like Ernie and Rodeo but within the safety of the IRS firewalls.

  When we broke for lunch, Velma came in with two salads from a Greek restaurant located a few doors down from the office.

  “Christos and Betsy, say hi. I told him as soon as you were settled in, we’d stop by for a drink.” We finished lunch, and as Velma was getting up to return to her command station, she turned and said, “Before I forget, your cousin Josie called. Gabby suggested she call you. She needs some help to find something that has been missing for a long time. I think she wants you to tap into that special ability of yours.”

  “She does,” I said while my psychic radar went up on full alert.

  “Well you are psychic and a little more,” Velma said.

  “Yes, but you remember where that little bit more got us last time. We nearly got killed and dumped into the sea.” Velma stared at me and then the oh yeah look appeared on her face.

  “I’m going to be busy enough just getting my feet wet with what we have here,” I said and pointed around the room. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter how much work I had on my plate if it involved family, I knew I would help, or I would never hear the end of it from my two aunts. Greeks do not turn down family.

  “Did she say anything else?” My Greek nose was now itching.

  “Yeah, actually she did. She said it was about a computer chip that belonged to her mother. She said the chip was at least fifty years old or older.”

  “Velma, did they have chips that long ago?”

  Velma shrugged her shoulders like it was no big deal.

  “They did at Wright-Patt where her mother worked. You know … where they hid the aliens.”

  “Did she say what was so important about this computer chip?” I was ignoring the comment about Wright-Patt and the aliens for now.

  “Yeah, she said it might explain why a body was found under a house where they lived while growing up. They just found out that the body belonged to her mother’s boss.”

  “The house on Xenia? Her mom’s boss?” I said. My head was now spinning, and I felt dizzy. The psychic side of my brain had turned on full blast. “Okay, I’ll give her a call a little later. Geez, I see this office is still a magnet of the weird and mysterious.”

  “With you back—it sure is.” With that Velma chuckled, turned, and walked back up front to her command station. I decided to get to work. I would call my cousin Josie later, maybe after a little drink from the office bar. I walked over to it and opened the door and was happy to see that Charlie kept it well stocked.

  After several hours of work, signing power of attorney forms and faxing them to appeals officers so they could talk directly to me about Charlie’s clients, calling and talking to them and setting up appointments with them, I was close to wrapping the day up and decided I needed a break. I poured myself a shot of ouzo and started to call my cousin Josie, but the psychic side of me told me to call my old client Gabby.

  Besides calling my Greek relatives who live in Dayton I had to set aside time for the call. I decided to call Josie later tonight outside of the office and back at my aunt’s condo. Gabby would be easier, and I’d get the scoop quicker since it sounds like she started the ball rolling and she always got right to the point which I liked. I was not a fan of small talk which is why I usually drank too much at the meet and greet social events I would have to do to get clients and keep clients now that I was back in business as a CPA.

  “Hello,” I heard her familiar voice, a little gravelly but her mind was still sharp.

  “Gabby, it’s me, MC. How are you?”

  “MC! So good to hear your voice! Have you talked to Josie?” Yep. Gabby was not one to waste time. She continued, “Sorry we’ll catch up another time. You need to talk to her. You know the pizza slab is no longer right around the corner when you reach your nineties. It’s sitting in your living room, waiting patiently, drumming its fingers.”

  “Well no, actually I wanted to talk to you first before I call Josie. Velma says she is looking for something and y
ou suggested she call me?”

  “That she is,” Gabby said. “You will need to tap into that psychic talent of yours to find it. The government is probably looking for it.”

  I caught and held my breath. Déjà vu. I just walked in the front door. Of course, the government would be involved. I was not surprised.

  “The government?” I said knowing instinctively this was going to involve my spook friend Ernie. Gabby was on the same wavelength.

  “Yeah, you might have to talk to your friend, what’s his name? Ernie? He probably has contacts at Wright-Patt.” Yep, there it was.

  “Wright Patterson Air Force Base in Dayton, you know where they hid the aliens?” Might as well get the cats out of the bag I thought. The barn door was wide open.

  “Yeah, that’s the one. Josie’s mother worked in the area where they kept all those secrets. You know from the crash at Roswell.”

  Okay. First day back in my old running shoes and I was drawn into another episode of the X files. In the past, I did whatever it took to ignore my psychic side, but I stopped fighting it after Theo and I got back together. It did come in handy when I went looking for bad boy Charlie when he dropped off the grid and a couple of ancient jewels when a flock of nuns flew into my office. The two Catholic nightmare nuns from my parochial school days, Sister Hildegard and Sister Matilda, also turned out to be psychic. They belonged to the Sisters of Saint Anthony. They are still praying for me—a lot.

  I opened my purse and pulled out some of my Aunt Anna’s fudge and dipped it in the Cuban coffee Velma had sitting for me on the desk and then poured the ouzo into the coffee. Just like old times.

  “Gabby what is this all about?”

  “Remember the house Josie grew up in?”

  “The house on Xenia? Actually, I do,” I said.

  I remembered that house because it was strange. As a kid, I first met the Dayton side of our Greek family at that house. We had all gone up to Dayton for a funeral and stayed at the house. It was at that house that I first became aware that I inherited the psychic DNA that runs in my family. I realized it because the house told me I had it. I can still hear its voice, it scared me at first, but then I calmed down because it sounded a lot like my mother talking to me.

  “You have a special gift, Mary Catherine. Do not waste it.”

  My mother told me later when the house would come up in conversations to think about the house like another YaYa, the Greek word for endearment or grandmother.

  The house was called a double. One side mirrored the other side with a wall down the middle. Behind the house was another house that was a lot older. It was an old farmhouse. When I told my mother that I thought I heard the house speaking to me, my mother sat me down and explained to me that this house could talk to you. “These are special houses, Mary Catherine. They protect those that live within their walls like a mother protects her children.”

  “It’s on all the cable news channels,” Gabby said bringing me back to the present.

  “I don’t watch cable news,” I said. “I live on a big boat.”

  “Well, you remember Josie’s mother GiGi and I worked at Wright-Patt before I got married. We stayed friends until the day she checked out. I promised her I would look out for her daughters, especially Josie who reminds me a lot of you.”

  I had heard this before because my cousin Josie was a lot like me. We both preferred life to be neat, orderly and balanced. Our mothers, GiGi and Georgia, were alike and they both had different ideas and were never shy about sharing them with us. Our mothers were bold, independent, and very strong women. They were also big dreamers. Early on they were bitten by a bug. It was called show biz. They wanted to be stars. Maybe it was the era they grew up in, movie stars and movies. They would spend hours on the phone yakking away about how they were going to become big stars one day.

  “What is she looking for? Velma said Josie told her it was a computer chip and it might have something to do with a body.”

  “That’s right. GiGi saw a lot of things way before us because of where she worked at Wright-Patt. Probably more than computer chips … Josie needs to find that chip. GiGi told me about it right before she checked out. GiGi probably hid it somewhere, and Josie thinks she probably told her sister, Alexi, where their mother hid it, but then she had a stroke, and her memory is in and out. Josie is hoping it will help explain why a body was found under that house on Xenia, and she needs to find it before she has to talk to the cops or the military.”

  “The military? From Wright Patterson?”

  “Like I said I think the government is also involved. I heard from Toolou that Wright-Patt wants to come by now and talk to her.”

  “About the body?”

  “Yep.”

  “Tell me a little more about that body.”

  “The body was her mother’s boss, and the police suspect the body has been there for over 50 years. That would take it back to the time they were living there, and her mother was working at Wright-Patt.”

  My head was spinning again. The door to the room in my brain where my psychic genes live was wide open. The genes were having a party.

  “Gabby, has the news said anything about the cause of death?”

  “No, just that they are working on it, but it looks like foul play. You need to give Josie a call, MC. You need to help her. I had a dream last night, and GiGi came to me. She needs your help. She said you are the one who can help.”

  “Gabby, was my mother in the dream?”

  “Could be, they were tight. Like sisters.”

  “Gabby where were they in the dream? Could you tell?” I asked before I knew why.

  “They were standing in front of the house on Xenia.” I was quiet while I processed this new information.

  “Tell me, do you know how GiGi got the chip?” Again, I was asking before I knew why. Something was telling me to ask this question.

  “GiGi told me the last time I spoke to her that her boss gave her the chip.”

  “Did she tell you when he gave her the chip?” I asked, but now I knew the answer.

  “I haven’t told anyone this, MC, but you need to know. It was the night he disappeared.”

  I hung up the phone and walked over to the office bar and found the ouzo and poured another shot. Yes, I was home all right. I looked over at Izzy who was wide awake now and was staring at me.

  “What do you think Izzy?”

  “I think you’re in for a ride.”

  Yeah, sometimes I can hear Izzy, too. It comes along with my talent. I finished the shot and looked around the room. Well, might as well settle in for the roller coaster ride. Only unlike the past, this time I won’t close my eyes.

  The House on Xenia

  Reader, I am the House on Xenia, and I’d like you to take a break from the story so I can tell you about YaYa and GiGi. They lived with me and maybe still do. They possessed formidable strength that in my long lifetime I have observed in women. The kind of steel found in a mother protecting her brood.

  In the early 1920s, as a young bride, YaYa followed her husband James across the Atlantic Ocean. That is what women did back in those days. She came to the US from Salonika, Greece, where she was born. She came from a wealthy family of seven boys. She was the youngest and the only daughter. So she was doted on. Her father was a doctor. She and James were married in a grand ceremony by the mayor of Salonika. After a six-week journey at sea, they arrived at Ellis Island, the gateway to America for over 12 million immigrants before it closed its doors. It has been estimated that close to 40 percent of all current US citizens can trace at least one ancestor to Ellis Island.

  Eventually, they settled in Dayton, Ohio. James did very well in real estate. They had a fine home in an affluent section of Dayton. YaYa furnished her home with beautiful furniture including a grand mahogany dining table. She and James became members of the Greek Church in Dayton. The Greeks in Dayton knew them as a young and upcoming family. They had one daughter, GiGi, who was born in 1925. All w
as well until the crash of 1929. James lost everything and decided it was time to leave Dayton. YaYa was not willing to pick up again and leave. She had left her family and her beloved country and followed him to a strange land. YaYa put her foot down. She did not want to uproot her daughter GiGi who was starting school. They argued for days but, in the end, James reluctantly agreed. The large home was sold. YaYa was heartbroken. He promised he would replace the house with one big enough for her furniture. He found me. A house on Xenia, he took that as a sign. He reached out to his older brother Gus and asked him to move in while he was gone. Gus would watch over his wife and daughter until he returned with enough money to bring them with him and he could buy YaYa another fine house. Xenia as he would call me, “Protect them until I return.” He knew I would keep them safe and I did all the years they lived with me.

  James would talk to me many a night on my front porch while he smoked a cigar. YaYa did not want any cigar smoke in the house. I agreed with her on that point. As he sat there, usually late at night after everyone had gone to sleep, he would talk about bringing his young bride to America. “A land of opportunity for all who came to her shores,” he said as we sat on a wicker rocker on my front porch. “It was to be a temporary stay. That was the only way I convinced her to follow me. Once I made my fortune, we would return to Greece. My brother Gus and I came from the small island of Samos. I was almost there before the crash.”

  Unlike YaYa, he did not come from a wealthy family. He hoped to amass a fortune in America and then take YaYa and their daughter GiGi back to Greece as a wealthy man. Sometimes his brother Gus would join him for a smoke. I enjoyed those nights the best. Gus was a kind and gentle soul devoted to his brother’s family. Gus never married. Gus was a gay man. Back then it was kept quiet. Whispered but not spoken. Gus would stay with me and care for YaYa and GiGi until his death.

 

‹ Prev