Stillwell: A Haunting on Long Island

by Michael Phillip Cash

  The heavy limb was weighing him, and for a second, he felt his feet lift off, and he thought he might topple in. Another centimeter and he would have tipped into the well. He heaved himself back onto the wet grass then fell on his ass. Throwing away the branch, he retreated, the glow of whatever was buried in the well winking in his memory.

  ====

  They met at the next stop, a sad and somber affair. Both spouses were there, the hostility so present, the tension in the air could be cut with a knife. Molly’s false joviality stood out like a peacock among the pigeons, and he almost told her to shut up already. She was as uncomfortable as he. It was never easy to handle a divorce sale. The house reeked of the bitter root of failure, the oppressive air of anger. Mr. Stevens, a local lawyer, stood by the large picture windows facing a rolling lawn. Mrs. Stevens, who insisted everyone call her “Mariah,” sat defeated on a brown velvet love seat, her face forlorn.

  Every so often he caught her staring at the indifferent back of her impeccably dressed husband. When he delivered the sad news that they would be “underwater” and get less than what they owed on the mortgage, the husband shrugged coldly, and the wife bit back a sob.

  Contracts signed, he vowed to get as much as he could and he meant it. This house had no specters, but it didn’t relieve the sadness he felt inside its rooms.

  Molly and he left the house and walked toward their cars. “You want pizza tonight?”

  “No time. I have a ton of things to do.”

  “You’re coming, right” she asked nervously.

  “I said I would. I have to get the girls for dance class. We have to start a report and I want to be home to feed them. Is eight o’clock OK?”

  “I’ll feed Georgia. When you get there, you get there. Ciao.” She waved her long fingernails at him and dashed off to her convertible.

  ====

  Paul made it home in time to get a nice pot of pasta going. As he chopped vegetables, he wondered if Allison was laughing her cosmic ass off. Using frozen gravy his mom left, he paused remembering how he explained what gravy was to his wife.

  “It’s red, Paul. It’s a sauce.” She pointed to the fusilli on her plate covered with her mother-in-law’s delicious sauce.

  Smiling, he brushed an eyelash from her peach-tinted, freckled cheek. “Gravy. We call it gravy.”

  “Gravy is brown and you put it on potatoes.”

  “Only in your Waspy home. This here is some genuine gravy by Arlene Russo.”

  Laughing, they dug into their pasta dinner.

  Lost in thought, he was startled as the first of his brood bustled through the door.

  “Stella Luna, go wash and let’s get homework out of the way fast!” he ordered.

  She ran through the room, dropping her schoolbag at his feet and grabbing a cookie before she rushed away. He tripped over her backpack, cursed, and called after her.

  “I’ll be right back,” she hollered back, and he heard the bathroom door slam.

  The twins sauntered in, faces wind kissed and talking in that strange kind of singular conversation only they had. They each took a spot at the table, and Paul explained how the rest of the evening was going to proceed.

  “We are doing homework first.”

  “Oh Dad,” Jesse interrupted him. “It’s the weekend. Mom gave us Friday evenings off.”

  “Yeah, but we are kind of behind.”

  “Have a little faith in us, Dad. We will get to the work, I promise. We need a break too.”

  “But Stella’s got the Nevada report, you have the science fair, and I don’t even remember what Jesse has to do.”

  “Aunt Lisa is coming tomorrow. She can help with the science report, and we’ll both help Stella with Nevada.”

  “I did that report six years ago. I know exactly what to do,” Jesse offered.

  Well, that was easy, Paul thought. “In any case, we have one hour and then I have a surprise for the girls.”

  “What is it?” Roni nibbled on the cut-up carrots he placed on the table. He had taken the cookies and put them back into the cabinet.

  Veronica went to a blackboard in the corner of the kitchen. “Let’s put our assignments up here, and...”

  Jesse finished the statement. “Next to it, report where you are up to. I’ll put Stella’s work up, so you’ll know what has to be done.”

  Paul was impressed with their ingenuity. They were bright kids.

  Stella returned to the kitchen and Paul gave them the bag from the dance store. “Go get ready.” He smiled at them then he turned to his son. “While they’re in class, we’ll go get haircuts. How’s that?”

  “Sounds good. My hair’s getting pretty long.”

  ====

  They pulled up to a dance studio in the strip mall. He eyed the line of restaurants and noticed it was flanked by a pizzeria, deli, and take-out Chinese. Well, he thought, next week we go international. No more cooking on Friday nights.

  He sent Jesse to the barber at the corner and told him to get in line and he would be there shortly. He needed to fill out paperwork for the girls. The front room was empty, and he listened to the excited chatter of his daughters as they hung up the black-and-pink nylon bags he had purchased. Stella was a plump little fairy, round and dimpled in her pink tights and black leotard. Alarmed, he noticed budding breasts on his older daughter to go with her willowy figure. He didn’t like that, no sir, he didn’t like that at all.

  The room started to fill with overweight mommies holding bags for rambunctious, as well as noisy, little girls. The room became animated as his daughters reacquainted themselves with children he didn’t know. He thought he was familiar with most of their friends, but it appeared there was a whole world of things he didn’t know about his children. A tiny elf-like woman approached him. Black hair pulled back in a tight bun, her dancer duck-like walk had an elegance and he blushed when she caught him staring at her slim calves. Holding out a small hand, she smiled and said, “Mr. Russo...”

  “Please, call me Paul.”

  “Thanks, I’m Ellie Marcus. I own Gotta Dance. I’m so sorry about your wife. She was a great mom.”

  “And a great wife too, thanks.”

  “I knew her from LH Wagner,” she referred to Stella’s elementary school. “My son is in the same second grade class as your daughter. Mrs. Lustig. They both have Mrs. Lustig.”

  “Oh. Right.”

  Ellie smiled sweetly. She was a few years younger than him, and as he studied her face, he asked, “Have we met?” She wore tight leggings that hugged her body, and a barely there sleeveless tee that showed off firm arms.

  “Well, yes. You got me an apartment about five years ago when I split with my husband.”

  “Right, your name was different.”

  “I used my married name then. Marcus is my maiden name.”

  “It’s the girls’ first time out since Allison passed.”

  “I’m glad you brought them in. They’ve been missed.”

  He reached for the chain around his neck and felt for the ring under his shirt. Absently, he patted it.

  They watched the group of girls split off into different classrooms. “It’s showtime. See you in an hour.”

  Paul met his son who was already in the barber chair. They got haircuts at the same time. The barber winked at Paul and lathered up Jesse’s face, pretending he was going to shave him with a razor he had sharpened on his leather stop. This brought on chuckles and a momentary pang to Paul’s gut. Allison was never going to see their son shave. It put a damper on the whole afternoon for him. He missed her so much. Trying not to show his depression, he picked up the girls and listened to the delightful recounting of dance class.

  ====

  His mother came into the house, loaded with yet more dishes of prepared food.

  “I cooked already,” Paul told her with a touch of pride.

  “What? What did you cook?”

  “Rigatoni.”

  “Rigatoni?” she repeated, shocked. �
��With what?”

  “Your gravy, asparagus, and a salad.”

  His mother pinched his cheek and told him he made her proud. He felt like a five-year-old. Then she sat down with her grandchildren to hear stories of their day, while they ate their dinner.

  He picked up his phone and keys and paused by the door.

  “Thanks, Ma.”

  “For what. Get out of here.” She waved at him. “Go on...Get outta here. We want to start having fun.”

  The kids heartily agreed.

  ====

  Paul drove the four miles to Molly’s and noticed a white Escalade parked in the driveway. He knocked and Molly let him into the house with her usual warm welcome.

  “Georgia’s reading my cards. Come sit down and listen.”

  Half-empty wineglasses sat on the table where a slightly crushed pizza box lay abandoned and empty. They ate a whole pizza. He raised his eyebrows.

  A small woman, her hair shocking white in the front and jet black in the rear, sat on the floor in front of Molly’s coffee table, tarot cards laid out before her. She turned up her coal black eyes, and he felt unnerved by her direct stare.

  “Hi,” he said simply.

  “Georgie, this is my friend, Paul. I’m not going to tell you anything else.”

  Georgia studied him, her keen eyes taking everything in. He took off his shoes, since Molly didn’t allow them in the house, and sat on the couch and told them to finish the reading.

  She had a bad complexion, he noted, and wore very tight clothing that showed off a slightly dumpy figure. He guessed being a psychic she didn’t need a mirror. She knew what everybody was thinking of her appearance, he thought sarcastically.

  She looked up to study his face, and a blush stole up his collar. A feeling of violation overcame him, and for a moment, he considered that she knew exactly what he was thinking. He normally was not rude, but he had to admit, he was off and had been for the last six months.

  “Cut the deck again.” She was chewing gum and now looked at the three cards on the surface of the table. She had a high-pitched voice that could grate potatoes, Paul thought. No wonder she didn’t have trouble; it was certainly a sound that could wake the dead. He smiled to himself.

  Georgia zoomed her eyes to meet his and lowered her voice an octave. Maybe she’s a mind reader; he smirked.

  Molly turned over the first card, interrupting his thoughts. “What does that mean?”

  “It’s the world. It means fulfillment.”

  “Well, fulfillment’s not bad.”

  Georgia shrugged. “It’s upside down. It means something is not going to be fulfilled. Pick the next one.”

  “Ah, the two of wands.”

  “Wands.”

  “You’re successful. You are going to make money. You have a good business sense.”

  He rolled his eyes and caught Georgia looking at him with an odd smile.

  “Three of swords.” She placed a stubby hand painted with purple nail polish on Molly.

  “That thing you asked me. Not going to happen. Do you understand, not ever.”

  Molly sighed sadly. “Got it.” She rose to her feet. “Are you ready, Paul?”

  “Sure. How much does she know about me?”

  “Nothing.” Molly answered, her face shocked. “I wanted this to be a true reading for you.”

  “Where do you want me to sit?” He wanted to leave; he didn’t believe and felt faintly foolish.

  “Let’s move to the kitchen table.” Georgia got up and went toward the tiny dining table in the kitchen. She gestured for Paul to sit opposite of her. “Don’t say anything but yes or no. Don’t explain anything to me. Please don’t interrupt the reading with a question.” Taking out a rosary, she made a brief prayer to a saint he had never heard of. Her eyes fluttered and she took a pad she had placed next to her, scribbling strangely.

  “A female presence has entered the room. She could be your sister, sister-in-law, or wife. She is a contemporary of yours. She’s calling out for her hero. Oh, oh, you are her hero. Do you understand that? Hero and honey. Honey, she’s showing me honey, like in a jar...Is this your wife?”

  He nodded, watching her warily.

  “You were together a long time, a long time.” She looked surprised. “But how could you have been? She passed young, relatively young for today’s standards. Yes, she passed young. You look young, but I feel like you were together for like forty years or something. Yes, she’s saying you were together for thirty-three, thirty-four years, but that makes no sense.”

  It made sense to Paul, who had known Ally since they had been in diapers.

  “You had an apple pie household; it was a happy household. You know what I mean. You were happy. She was happy.” Here Georgia touched her head. “A stroke?” She cocked her weird-colored head. “Cancer?” Her lips moved, but no sound came out. “She had a brain tumor. There was nothing you could do. It was fast. It was horrible, what they did to her. It was too much, like they tried to save her, but couldn’t. She wants to thank you for taking good care of her.”

  He bit back a sob, swallowing and clearing his throat. It was her voice but not her voice. It was strange. He was sitting with this woman but hearing his wife. The expressions, the way she moved her head. It was Allison. Totally absorbed, he drank in the presence. He wanted more. Serenity filled him until the only thing that existed was Georgia and Paul, or in his mind, Allison and Paul.

  She continued, “She had a rough passing. Wait…Wait...She’s calling out to children. The number three is predominant. Do you take three? Two of one kind, one of the other. She’s showing me Gemini. Do you have twins? She’s laughing. One of them is like the spawn of Satan. A hell-raiser but a good boy, really. He gives you a run for the money, huh?” Here she paused and cocked her head as if listening. “Does the month of June have meaning for you?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “She keeps saying ‘June.’ I’ll leave that with you.”

  “She’s showing me movies. I see cowboys, no, they’re outlaws. Jesse James. Huh.”

  He gasped, realizing that June was her mom and not the month, and Ally was calling out for their son. He touched the ring resting against his chest.

  “She’s showing me the stars and the moon. Do you understand that? She says you’ll understand that. She’s laughing. She says you’re being dense today.”

  A tear trickled down his cheek, and Molly ran from the room with a sob.

  “You know the story of when Christ was walking with the cross? She showed it to me. Do you know that story? You know, he sweating and Veronica gives him a towel and he wipes his face on it. I don’t know what she means, but she says you’ll understand. Does it mean something to you? Either the story or the name?”

  “Yes,” he whispered. “I understand.”

  “She’s a free spirit. Kind. She was happy here. You made her happy. You had a good life together. Short,” Georgia said wistfully, “but that’s the way of it. She showing me Alice in Wonderland. She says it’s her in the blue dress. Was she blonde? Is that what she’s trying to convey? Wait, don’t answer.” Her eyes were closed. “Yes, yes…She’s talking about a monkey.”

  He froze.

  “Yes, a monkey wrench.” The black eyes came up and bore into his. “There’s a monkey wrench she is complaining about.”

  “I…I don’t know. I don’t know what you are talking about.” He sat forward.

  “Well…” Georgia laughed. “Neither do I, honey. She’s showing me a big hairy ape and saying ‘monkey wrench’ and she’s insisting that you would recognize it.”

  He couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped his throat.

  “Did you lose a child?”

  “No!” he shouted. “Wait, go back to the monkey!”

  Georgia ignored him. “You did lose a child. She’s telling me she’s with your child.” Again she cocked her head. “It was never born, a miscarriage. Your wife had a miscarriage.”

  “Four year
s ago.” He was shocked. No one but their parents knew about that.

  “Oh, she’s saying, ‘make the kids eat vegetables.’ Ha ha. Wait. She’s telling me to tell you that dancing will be good for all of you. She’s showing me sugarplum fairies, you know, like at the ballet. She’s pulling back now.”

  He sat on the edge of his seat. “Wait.”

  “She says to watch for a ring. You need to find a ring.”

  A ring, he thought wildly. He placed his hand on her wedding band on the chain around his neck once again.

  “Not her wedding band.” She paused. “She knows you wear her ring close to your heart. You’ll know which ring when you find it. She loved you. Oh my.” Georgia touched her cheek, her dark eyes glistening with tears. “She loved you so much. More than eternity.”

  He fingered the ring. They had engraved their rings with the quote “More than eternity” on the outside of both bands. It was their own private thing. He used to ask her how much she loved him and she always replied, “More than eternity.” This shook Paul’s insides.

  “Whew.” Georgia pulled herself out of her communication. “I do a lot of readings. Your wife loved you, man. Really loved you. It was a pleasure.” She held out her hand to him. “And she knew you loved her back just as much. It was a pleasure reading you.”

  “Is she OK?” he asked softly, still not believing what had just happened.

  “I...There’s a monkey wrench. That’s all I can say. Once everything gets sorted out, I think you’ll know more,” she added cryptically.

  Molly showed Georgia out of the house and turned to him. “So what did you think?”

  “Well, it was interesting. She’s a character. Did you tell her anything about my life?”

  “No, no, and no. And did I say no? Do you feel better?”

  He winced. “I have unanswered questions. That was certainly amazing. Interesting. If she’s for real, it was profound. But,” he added, “I feel I have to help Ally in some way.”

  “I booked her to do a cleaning at the house tomorrow before the open house. She’ll be there at eleven, if you’re interested.”

  “I’ll be there.”