Sand Trap (Haunted Series)

by Alexie Aaron

  “No, you can’t ask. I can tell. I’m going to help,” Clara stated firmly.

  Above her the old woman smiled and patted Clara on and through her back. Clara’s eyes showed sudden concern.

  “Are you alright?” Mia asked.

  “I feel something. Something tingly, and I smell a fragrance.” Clara rubbed her back. “It reminds me of something, someone.” She shook her head, lost for words.

  Mia winked at the old woman who smiled and walked back into her corner of the living room.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “No, I can’t have you do this!” Burt declared. “It is too dangerous and…”

  Anne looked determined. “We’re nuns. They are not going to attack us. We will be armed with memories of rulers on knuckles, Hollywood movies, and God,” she listed.

  “Plus the backup of a salt truck,” Julie reminded him.

  Burt marveled at how quickly the women had come together to solve his problem of not being able to get to his vehicle. While he prayed, supervised by the eldest sister, the others went over and talked to the brothers by the gate. He didn’t know what they said to them, but when he had gotten off his knees, they had the phone number of a private snow clearing business owner who had access to a road salting vehicle.

  Sister Margaret called the gentleman and negotiated a price that Burt could live with. The man would start salting the road from the diner to the parking lot. He would circle the PEEPs truck and leave. The sisters would follow him in. Burt would jump out get in the truck and follow the sisters to the diner.

  “He’ll be here any minute. Time’s a wasting, Mr. Hicks,” Anne said, looking at her watch. “I’ve got to get these ladies back home tonight.”

  “Yes, let’s do this!” Burt said excitedly. He inwardly cringed, knowing that even the best laid plans usually ended up with him getting the crap knocked out of him.

  ~

  Mia accepted the second offer of coffee as did Ted. They sat looking through family albums, and Mia smiled as she confirmed that the ghost was indeed Clara’s mother. She fought the urge to tell Clara. She didn’t ask, and the woman didn’t seem to want Mia to tell. So instead she concentrated on the next problem. The men in the hall.

  She had seen them lurking. Their dark forms oozing out of the shadows. They had enough anger to produce energy enough to hurt a corporal being. Mia sized them up quickly before they had entered the safety of the Geffens’ apartment. Could they be afraid of Clara’s momma? Is this why she stayed?

  “How long have you lived here?” Mia asked.

  “Frank and I took over the apartment when Momma died. Let’s see, six years.” She looked over at her husband and he nodded.

  “Have you had any problems in the hall?”

  “We don’t like the back part of the hallway. It’s always cold and gives me a tummy ache,” Clara admitted. “Why?”

  “There’re some things there that shouldn’t be. Nasty and dark.” Mia confessed, “They scare me.”

  Ted put a hand on her shoulder.

  “I think I will mention them to Father Santos when he comes back into town. I think he can help move them along. Give them a push in the right direction.”

  Clara and Frank seemed relieved.

  “However, I fear since we’ve been in here that they have built some energy up. We may have a problem leaving, Ted.”

  “Salt,” Ted suggested.

  “It’s worth a try.”

  “Fire escape,” Frank suggested. “It runs from our bedroom window to the back of the building then down.

  “Back of the building as in the direction of the goons?” Ted asked.

  “Yes.”

  Mia sat still a moment. Her eyes closed, and she leaned against Ted. Mia left her body in a bilocation move, practiced and refined. She nodded to the amazed specter in the corner. She moved towards the door and into the hall. The bad energy of the place was evident by the deep purple haze. Mia could see the dark figures more clearly. They were big teens in clothing of recent vintage. She got the same feeling she got in the bar. These spirits thought the hall was their turf. They would be defending it against her and Ted. Why the Geffens were accepted was beyond Mia’s understanding. One of them stood at the window at the back of the building, the other had the inner stairway blocked.

  Mia quickly assessed the situation and moved quickly back into her body. She wished Murphy were with them. The farmer would see these entities as kindling. Mia opened her eyes and sat up straight.

  “Welcome back, my little OOBer,” Ted said and patted her hand.

  “There is one at the window by the fire escape and the other by the stairway,” she informed them.

  “Well, that cancel/clears the thought that they weren’t interested in messing with us,” Ted considered. “Either way we go there will be a fall involved. Inside we stand a better chance of it. Salt will slow them down. I suggest we pour a line across the hall to trap one of them behind it. The other we will have to take our chances with.”

  “These ghosts don’t mess with us. How about I pour the salt?” Frank offered.

  “We would appreciate it.” Mia stood up and looked into the corner at Clara’s momma and pushed her thoughts to her. “You watch over them.” The woman nodded and pushed up her sleeves.

  Ted looked at her and then over to the corner. “I’m sensing we have an ace up our sleeves.”

  “Funny you should say sleeves. Are you sure you’re not sensitive?”

  “Magic before science, all in compliance. Science before magic, things could get tragic,” he said sagely.

  “Funny man.”

  Clara got up and went into the kitchen. She came back with a box of iodized salt. She held it up and asked, “Will this do? It’s all I have.”

  Mia smiled at the container decorated with the little Morton girl. “It’s fine. I have some of my own.” She drew out of her pack a couple of disposable picnic shakers. She gave one to Ted. “I’ll be your eyes. Stay close to me. If I say run then…”

  “Run,” Ted finished. “Mia, after our drive on Route 66, this is going to be a cakewalk.”

  Mia gathered her things and Ted put on his hat. They walked over to the door and watched as Frank poured a line. The moment he finished, Mia moved quickly out of the door. Ted was at her heels.

  Mia heard a rush of air and a thud as the hood ran from the window and hit the salt line. She kept her eye on the other one who moved menacingly by the stairway. “He’s blocking the stair. I’m not sure what kind, if any, power he has. There is a lot of anger though.”

  “Hang on to the rail just in case he is a cowardly shover,” Ted advised. “I’ve dealt with that a time or two.”

  “Ghosts?”

  “Junior high school.”

  “Oh.”

  “Being a beanpole nerd is a dangerous business.”

  “I sympathize.”

  The banter between them calmed Mia.

  “Tell me about the corner.”

  “Clara’s mother. Fierce woman. Very protective.”

  “Probably is what keeps the hoods out of the house.”

  “Could be.” Mia stopped a few yards from the entity. “He’s about five foot five. I think he’s of Italian origin. His clothing is pretty modern. He’s waving for his friend and seems distressed. I think he’s the weak link.” Mia moved past him and started down the steps with Ted close behind her.

  They made it down the first flight safely, and as they turned the corner, Mia saw the other hood advancing up the stairs. “Shit, the other one must have gone out the window and circled around.”

  Mia was shoved backward and impacted with Ted. He grabbed a hold of her and kept her on her feet.

  Mia heard the weak link come down the steps behind them. They were trapped between the two. Mia and Ted opened the salt and together poured a circle around themselves. They were safe for the moment.

  Ted’s hands went around her in a protective move. “Are you alright?”

  �
��Just peachy,” Mia said as she faced the thugs as they moved around them like sharks.

  A sound from above caught her attention. There was Clara’s mother, shaking her fist, directing her silent words at their tormenters.

  “Clara’s mother has arrived.”

  “What’s happening?”

  “She’s yelling at the lads. They have turned to face her. The weak link has moved behind the other one.”

  Mia watched and gave a play by play to Ted of the angry Lithuanian woman’s tirade directed at the Italian youths. She walked down the stairs regally and took a hold of the leader’s ear and tugged him away and up the stairs. The weaker one followed.

  “Come on run!” Mia said, leaving the circle and heading down the stairs. Ted was right behind her and picked her up in his arms and bolted for the door. He stopped when he hit the sidewalk and put Mia down. “Phew! Minnie Cooper, you have to lay off the doughnuts.”

  Mia hugged him and agreed, “Can’t resist those jellies.”

  “Now you’re making me hungry,” Ted complained.

  “Well let’s grab a pizza, a cab, and get back to the museum.”

  “Great idea,” Ted said, eyeing a pizzeria up the street. “There’s one.”

  Mia turned, looked up at the building and waved at the concerned faces in the window. She saw Clara smile and Frank put a protective arm around his wife. She waved before she and Ted continued down the street.

  “Bernard wants a deep dish, but I understand the calzones are to die for in the city.”

  “Mia my, you really have to curb your preoccupation with death,” Ted teased.

  “Duly noted,” she said and wished she could follow the tech’s advice.

  ~

  Burt clung on for dear life as Anne turned onto the road. She let the salt truck have a 100 foot head start. She didn’t want to ding the Buick’s exterior with any stray bouncing pellets. Burt regretted not putting on his seatbelt, but he knew he would need to be unencumbered when they hit the parking lot. Burt watched as Anne slowed when the truck turned into the lot. She waited until it had circled the PEEPs truck and left the lot before she pulled quickly in. They bounced over the broken and pitted black top, arriving at the truck in seconds. Burt bolted from the car and jammed the key in the lock. He got inside just as Anne pulled away.

  The truck started right away. He had just put it into gear when he felt the impact of something on the side and hood of the truck. It bounced under the weight of the invisible. He heard scratching as something tried to gain purchase on the vehicle. Burt spun his tires and the truck lurched forward. Salt or no salt, the truck was taking a beating. He pushed the accelerator to the floor when he hit the pavement of Route 66. Recalling the route Ted and Mia took, he pushed the truck towards the iron bridge.

  He saw Anne pull into the diner’s lot as he sped by. The truck rocking as the entities attached tried to beat their way in. The windshield cracked at one point but held. He put on the wipers and started praying. He still had a mile to go, and as the road descended it turned, causing him to slow the vehicle to compensate.

  He heard the roar of engines as the remaining gang caught up with the truck. There were more thuds and scratches, and he started to worry that the back of the truck would soon be breached. He swerved the truck back and forth when traffic would allow and hoped that the entities still had to deal with gravity and velocity. He regretted the way he took Mia for granted. He needed her eyes and Murphy’s brawn.

  The road straightened out, and he could see the bridge before him. The window on the passenger side burst inward. He felt glass shards hit his right side but felt nothing. His adrenalin was on full, and just as he felt a tug on his arm, he hit the bridge.

  He fought control of the truck, and as he crossed the river, the entity in the cab was gone. The scratches and thumps too. He pulled over to the side of the road after he cleared the bridge. He got out and in the fading light took stock of the PEEPS vehicle. He had lost a window on the passenger side. The windshield would need to be replaced. The back had not been accessed, but it was dented and would have to be repainted. The sides of the vehicle were scratched and the PEEPs logo read PEE. The chicks were headless and the ghost wore a swastika.

  He pulled out his phone and texted the nuns that he was alright. He then called the owners of the bar. He got the development group’s answering machine. “Hi, this is Burt Hicks. I would advise you and your people to steer clear of the property. Presently the violence has escalated to the point of being deadly. Give me a call back as soon as you get this message. I am going to regroup and consult with a colleague to see what else can be done to save the building.” He disconnected before agreeing with Mia. “They need to blow the fucker up.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  It seemed like he’d been there forever, sitting in the barn, sharpening his axe. He moved slowly. Although he could feel no pain, his movements were jerky and erratic. He remembered seeing an old timer cursed with a nervous disorder at the Lutheran Church he had attended with his mother and father. The man moved and lurched his way to and from the pew. The young Stephen eyed him and not without a little disdain. He now regretted his actions. It weren’t Christian like. Of course, not crossing over weren’t either.

  But he didn’t want the lights, the company of relatives past, not yet anyway. He wanted the trees, the ability to roam his hillside and see to the safety of his acres. That used to have been enough. That was before Mia. She touched him. He kissed her. Although the earthly feeling was brief, it was remembered. She hadn’t returned to him in her bilocated form. He got the idea that the thought of more physical interaction between the two of them was abhorrent to her. He understood. He was a smart man and a smarter ghost. Mia was of the corporal world even though she could move on both sides of the veil. She still had human issues to work out, lovers to bring to her bed, and life lessons to learn. He would wait. He would wait forever.

  He heard a car pull up and went to see if April, the present owner of the farmhouse, had returned. The lights of the Sherriff’s car swept the yard before the driver stopped the car and got out.

  He watched as Whit walked over to the farmhouse and checked on windows and doors before he settled down on the front porch.

  Curious, Murphy moved over to him and leaned against the porch pillar and watched the man.

  Whit reached into his pocket and drew out a stick of gum, unwrapped it, and stuck the stick of wintergreen in his mouth. He carefully folded the foil wrapper and returned it to his pocket. He cleared his voice with an “Ahem.”

  Murphy moved closer to him and listened.

  “Murph, I don’t know if you are here, or even still around, but I thought it was time for us to have a little talk. It’s about Mia, of course.” Whit stopped, feeling a bit foolish. “What the hell am I doing?” he said, smacking a mosquito away from his uniformed pant leg. “Talking to a feckin ghost. Are you even here, Murphy?” Whit got to his feet and yelled, “Stephen Murphy I’m calling you out!”

  Murphy shook his head and smiled. He snuck up behind Whit and lifted his axe, and with not a small amount of force, sunk his axe into the wood of the porch steps.

  CRACK!

  Whit jumped three feet in the air. He spun around and cursed, “You son of a bitch, you’ve been here all the time.”

  Murphy lightly tapped the step.

  Whit heard the knock, and even though part of him was frightened, the other part of him needed the counsel of this axe-wielding spirit that happened to be Mia’s best friend. He forced himself to stop shaking. “Murph, there you are. I can’t see you, but there’s nothing to be done about that. I think we have a common problem on our hands. Yep, Mia. You’ve no doubt taken in that I’ve gone quite soft on the lass. She’s a looker and has such a compassionate soul. But there is a whole load of crazy that goes along with the package. I’m mean, damn. It’s hard enough understanding her as a woman, but as a sensitive, a ghost chaser, and a… Well you know what I mean.”
/>   Murphy tapped the step again.

  “I blew it. I blew my second chance with her. I know she acted in my best interest with Sherry’s paintings. But my tendency to be an asshole got in the way, and I only saw her interference. She apologized. I mean why the fuck did she do that? I wanted a fight. I wanted to be able to have a knock down battle of words and ideas. And she, instead, agreed with me.”

  Whit pushed his hand through his hair and kicked at the dirt. Murphy kept his axe still and waited on the man.

  “How do you handle not being able to be there for her? How do you handle not understanding, -hell, fearing - the world she moves in? Am I strong enough to put my feckin jealousy aside and be there for her when she needs me? What about this Burt? He seems to be able to take her gifts in stride. Fuck me, I’m so messed up.”

  Murphy dragged his axe making a scratching sound.

  “So you agree. You really are a son of a bitch, Murph.” Whit smiled. “I’m going to try again. I just wanted you to know that. I will probably fail, after all, how many chances do assholes get?” Whit rolled his head to release some tension. “I’m not going to ask for your blessing, as I have an inkling you would love to be in my shoes. What I’m asking is whether or not you think I may still have a chance with her.”

  Murphy thought a moment. He didn’t dislike Whitney pee pants. Hell, he was fond of the boy, ever since he had frightened him so badly in his teens that the boy peed himself. But he didn’t want him hurting Mia either. Murphy took his axe and hit the steps again with it.

  CRACK!

  Whit took that as a yes, and then Murphy took his axe and swung it just above Whit’s head causing a SWOOSH to be heard.

  “I get it. I have a shot, but if I hurt her, you are going to hurt me.”

  Murphy hit the steps again. CRACK!

  “Understood, loud and clear. I’m going to give Mia a call. Tell her that you’re on the mend and up to your usual axe-whackery.”

  Murphy smiled and watched Whit get back into the patrol car. As the car moved off with its lights cutting into the hollow, Murphy sat down on the steps and looked at the stars. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen next, but he was damn sure he was going to be around to witness it.