by Alexie Aaron
Mike had given her a turn by turn verbal map of the remainder of her trip. He had sounded odd on the phone. Gone was the bluster and arrogance that Mia had come to like. It could be that his mother was at hand or that he wasn’t looking forward to hours of rummaging in the attic of his mother’s childhood home.
She had called Whit and left him a message warning him that her phone may be out of range, but she would check in from time to time. She made sure to mention that she was working with and for Mike’s mother, and that Murphy was coming along for the ride. Whit was the jealous sort, although he tried not to show it. He didn’t have anything to worry about concerning Mia and Mike Dupree. They were colleagues that didn’t really like each other. The chemistry was negative, but there was respect between them. She thought the man had amazing natural instincts when it came to dealing with the paranormal. He was smart and a quick learner. He was a serial fornicator. Mia felt he took advantage of the lonely women who were drawn to his handsome features and practiced charm. She would admit she wasn’t the worldly type, but Mike’s cavalier attitude about the feelings of the women he bedded angered her.
The radio static, which had been coming on for the last few miles, left Mary Beth’s secret to whipping cream a mystery. Mia reached for a CD and popped it into the player. Patsy Cline’s voice filled the car, and she smiled as Murphy appeared. He loved the singer which was the only reason Mia had purchased the CD. Her tastes leaned towards male singers and rock bands.
“Good to see you, old man.”
Murph put his finger to his lips and shushed her.
She laughed to herself and slowed in order to negotiate a left turn. There wasn’t any traffic coming or going so she neatly pulled the trailer onto the two lane road and headed west. She saw trees on the horizon. This must be Lund.
Mike was busy toting fresh linen into the house. His mother insisted that they sleep on fresh sheets. Their guests deserved a nice bed after the exhausting work they would be doing. He puzzled at how a quick trip to Lund to pick out some keepsakes had turned into this big production. Glenda asked Mike if one of his boyfriends would like to earn some extra cash. She didn’t feel that he and Mia would be able to move the heavier furniture themselves. He called Ted who was happy to earn a few bucks. Ted was delighted when he found out Mia was going to be there. He was over the moon when he found out Whit wasn’t.
Beth got wind of the project – Ted’s big mouth – and offered her services for free. She called and talked to Glenda directly. “Sure, more the merrier, you may as well call Burt, and we will make this a PEEPs Thanksgiving,” Glenda suggested. Beth did. Mike groaned when he found out. He wasn’t looking forward to the trip for personal reasons, and now he would be spending it with his team of prying eyes.
So instead of making three beds he was making six. The old house had the room. It had started off with one room, and as the Lund wealth grew so did the house. Additions and overbuilding gave the exterior a quaint sampler look of architectural styles from the last hundred years.
“Michael!” his mother called from down the hall. “I need you to go down and turn on the G damn water. I don’t know what George Albert was thinking. Probably expected us Kansans to wash up at the pump outside.”
Mike pulled his hand through his expensive haircut and sighed. His mother’s people had maintained an air of snobbery even though they were farm folk themselves. He remembered family gatherings that had his mother pitted against the stout matriarchs of the family. She was trying to prove moving away from Lund and living on a Kansas farm didn’t make her a rube, that her husband was good as or better than the stock of males that roamed in and around middle Illinois. But she was outnumbered and her achievements dismissed.
As he traversed the outside of the house to turn the pump on, Mike pondered why his mother would come back and subject herself to this abuse year after year. He wasn’t going to let Lund affect his life, no siree.
He found the pump house locked. A sign of the times he supposed. No one trusted each other. Crime had spread to the most tranquil places. What was there to steal? Copper, perhaps it was the copper pipes that prompted George Albert to slap a Yale lock on the hasp of the door. It was a combination lock. Mike thought a moment and smiled. He dialed in his mother’s birthdate and the lock snapped open.
Mike felt a current of cold air as soon as he opened the door. He attributed it to the deep well from which the house had successfully pulled water for over a hundred years. Even in the worst droughts, water could always be found in Lund. He found hanging on the wall a stainless steel bucket. He tossed it under the hand pump and drew a measure of water up out of the bowels of the earth. It took a few minutes, but soon icy cold water was splashing in the bucket. He took this water and primed the pump. He smiled at the thought of Ted, the PEEPs technician, trying to understand why everything couldn’t be controlled by a computer.
He made sure the electric current was available before he turned the pump on. It sprang to life, filling the small outbuilding with gurgles and machine sounds. Mike had just replaced the bucket on the hook when another blast of cold air hit him. In his line of work he knew the difference between a draft and a visitation. He didn’t want to, but he managed to turn around to see a black mass form. “Listen…” it screeched at him.
Mike put his hands in front of him and moved around the mass and headed for the door. The building shook with the accumulating power. Tools shook off their hooks and fell to the floor in noisy clangs. The mass continued to grow. The door to the shed slammed shut as he reached the opening.
“LISTEN!”
Mike turned and faced the mass, ready to succumb to whatever this entity had in mind, when a bucket lost its purchase and flew at Mike, hitting him on the forehead. Pain shattered his consciousness and blackness descended.
Mia pulled her truck in front of the address Mike supplied her. She smiled as she saw the large old house. It wasn’t a pleasant looking place, but the covered front porch looked inviting. She hopped out of the truck and headed for the front door. The door opened after the first drop of the brass knocker. Glenda Dupree stood there gowned in a large wraparound apron.
“Stop gawking and give me a hug,” Glenda said briskly.
Mia’s awkwardness melted as the older woman hugged her. They had only met once before when a Paranormal Entity Exposure Partners meeting was held at Mike’s family farm. She attended with Burt, who she was dating at the time. Glenda had treated her then like family, and today Mia felt as if she had come home instead of starting a job.
“You are a delight for coming to help, Mia. You look well.”
“Hopefully not a fright, driving doesn’t suit me,” Mia confessed.
“Trouble on the road?”
“Nah, just the normal, wondering what is real and what is an echo.”
“I have that problem myself in the morning, but a good strong cup of coffee soon puts me to rights.” Glenda stepped aside and encouraged Mia to step inside.
The house had the feel of others in it. Mia sensed years of accumulated feelings and memories in this home. Not all were good feelings, but such was life.
“I don’t know what happened to Mike. I sent him out to start the pump, which he did, but after that the boy disappeared.”
“Let me take a look for him. The pump is…”
“Outside around back in the blue shed,” Glenda directed.
Mia scooted out the door and around the house. She thought she would see Mike wandering around trying to pick up a cell phone signal. Instead there was just the barren, November back garden of the home. She spied the faded blue shed, walked over and pushed opened the door. It would only go a foot before it stopped. Mia pushed again and realized that something was blocking the door. She squeezed her head through the opening and found that it was someone stopping the door’s progress. It was Mike unconscious on the floor.
Mia quickly accessed that she could push the door further without further damaging Mike. She got her body in
and knelt by the fallen man. She saw the lump forming on his forehead, and the skin around it looked angry but not broken. He had a strong pulse and was breathing normally.
“Mike,” she said as she gently moved his head into her lap. She tapped his cheek and urged, “Come on, Mike. Wake up.”
A groan escaped from Mike as he fought to open his eyes.
“Come on, there you go. Come back to us, Mike.”
“Mia? How’d… What?” Mike tried to sit up.
“Whoa there, big fella, you have a major lump on your head. Let’s take this one step at a time.” Mia went through the basic first aid questions with Mike and determined that he was alert enough to sit him up. She would have to watch him for signs of dizziness once she got him to his feet. “Are you feeling nauseous?”
“Um, no, but my head is splitting.”
“Did you trip?” Mia asked as she scanned the floor around him. She saw all sorts of tools and buckets strewn around. She was surprised by the mess because Mike and his mother were fastidious people.
“The bucket flew off the wall.” Mike’s eyes shot open. “Get me out of here!”
“Calm down. I’ll do my best, but you’re going to have to help me,” Mia warned him. She got to her feet and assisted Mike to his. He wobbled a bit. “Use me to steady yourself, but warn me if you are going to faint. I don’t relish explaining to your ma how we ended up tangled on the floor of the shed.”
Mike grimaced and mumbled, “Good one.” He assumed Mia was teasing.
Mia wasn’t. She moved slowly with Mike in the direction of the house. “Care to tell me what went on in there?”
“I will, but not now. My eggs are scrambled, and my story is going to need time and booze in order to tell it.”
“K. Just make sure you’re pouring the good stuff,” Mia requested. She called out to Glenda before the two of them hit the porch. Mia saw the woman look out of the kitchen window and seconds later flew out of the backdoor with a handful of ice wrapped in a towel.
“What happened?”
“A bucket hit him on the head. I don’t think he’s concussed, but I’m not a doctor.”
Glenda took Mike’s other arm, and between the two women he was soon in the house and stretched out on an antique chaise lounge. His mother probed his head while Mia stood obediently by, shining a penlight on the area. “Did you pass out?”
“Yes.”
“I’m calling the ambulance.”
“Ma, George Albert didn’t have the phone turned on, and we don’t have cell reception here,” Mike reminded her.
“Mrs. Dupree,” Mia began, “Let me take him to the hospital in the truck. I’ll have the trailer off in two minutes.”
“You don’t know where it is,” Glenda argued.
“I passed it ten minutes before the last turn. I make special note of these things anytime I’m going to be spending time with the PEEPs team.”
“Alright, I’ll get my coat…”
“Ma, let Mia take me,” Mike pleaded. “Burt, Ted and Beth are due in soon…”
“You’re right. I’ll stay,” Glenda acquiesced.
Mia left the house and unhitched the trailer. She picked up Murphy’s axe head and secured it in the glove box. She didn’t have time to seek out the farmer. He would be pulled along for the ride whether he wanted to go or not.
Mia pulled the truck in as close as she could get it and jumped out to help move Mike to the truck.
“He’s puked. I think he better have his head examined,” his mother fretted.
“I’ve been thinking that for quite some time now,” Mia quipped to ease the tension.
Mike allowed the ladies to take him to the truck and sat obediently while his mother seatbelted him in. She placed a small dishpan in his lap in case he had to vomit. Mike held the ice to his head and smiled bravely to his mother. Mia backed out of the drive and broke all land speed records transporting him to the emergency room of the regional hospital.
Fortunately for Mike, it was a slow afternoon in the ER. They were ushered immediately into the triage nurse’s room. Mike sat in a wheelchair, and Mia paced the floor. A scrub-clad older woman bustled in and stuck a thermometer in Mike’s mouth. She addressed all her questions to Mia.
“How did he get hurt?”
“A steel bucket fell on his head, knocking him out.”
“Where was this?”
“His head?” Mia replied, unsure of what the nurse wanted.
“No, sorry, where did the accident take place?” the nurse corrected.
“The pump house. He went to prime the pump and turn on the water to the house. He was gone longer than expected. I found him unconscious on the floor.”
The nurse shone a light in Mike’s eyes and took other vitals before getting back to her form. “Name.”
“Michael Dupree.”
“Address.”
“Recently Lund, Illinois, before that Kansas,” Mia answered.
The nurse went on, and Mia answered the questions the best she could. She was amazed at the things she already knew about Mike. What she didn’t know, she made up. All the while Mike looked at her, not saying a word even after the thermometer was removed.
“He vomited, I’m worried about a concussion,” Mia told the nurse.
“We’ll get him to x-ray. In the meantime let’s find him a bed.” She got up and pushed Mike through the door. “Come on, Mrs. Dupree, you can keep your husband company while he waits for the doctor.”
Mia opened her mouth to explain, but one look from Mike shut her up. He was challenging her to go on with the charade. Well, Mia was always up for a challenge. Plus, she didn’t want to wait in the small waiting area as it was currently populated by the spirits of an arguing couple.
Mia followed the nurse into a curtained segment of the emergency room. The nurse handed her a gown and instructed, “All off but his socks. It’s cold in here today.” She pulled the curtain around the bed, giving a visual sense of privacy to the young couple.
Mia set the gown down and proceeded to take off his shoes. She looked at him and watched his face as she placed the shoes under the bed and moved on to take off his chambray shirt. “You’re enjoying this aren’t you, you pervert?” Mia hissed at him.
“Dear, I’ve never been so amused.” He lifted his arms up, and Mia took off his undershirt.
She put the gown on his arms and tied the top before starting on his jeans. “Think of Mario,” Mia said as she struggled with the buttons of his Levis.
“What?” Mike questioned and laughed as Mia tugged his pants down his legs.
“That’s what Ted says techies do, when they get aroused,” Mia explained.
“Oh, okay, Mario it is,” Mike said lifting his eyebrows.
Mia folded his jeans and placed them on top of the other clothes. She looked at Mike and smiled.
He mouthed, “Everything but my socks.”
Mia stopped smiling. She put his gown on and pulled it down over his legs before reaching under and tugging at his undershorts. Mia looked at his face the entire time. Once the shorts were free from his legs, she added them to the top of the pile and covered Mike up with the white blanket. “You are so going to get it,” she vowed.
“Maybe I can return the favor sometime?” Mike said.
Mia’s ire was up, but she had to swallow her string of curse words as the drapes were pulled back, and a young male doctor wearing scrubs entered the room.
Mia sat back and watched as the doctor examined Mike’s forehead and the bump on the back where he hit the ground when he passed out. The examination was a lengthy one. When the doctor was finished he addressed them both.
“I think to be on the safe side, since he vomited, we better have some pictures made of his skull. I’ll have an orderly take him down to x-ray. Mrs. Dupree if you will wait in the visitors lounge. Someone will come and get you, when he is finished.”
Mia got to her feet. The nurse came in and bundled Mike’s clothes up in a clear bag alo
ng with his shoes. She handed the bag to Mia for safekeeping. Mia walked out of the room, stopping to salute Mike before heading for the visitors lounge.
A candy striper stopped Mia and inquired who she was waiting for. Mia said, “My husband, he’s getting his head examined.” As the young woman walked off, Mia mumbled, “Which is what I’m going to have done as soon as possible.” She walked to the lounge, saw that the couple was still arguing, and Stephen Murphy was sitting beside them spellbound by the spectacle. Mia sat down next to him and sighed.
Chapter Three
Burt looked over at Beth and smiled. She was happily telling him of her upcoming reunion with a few school chums in Michigan. He nodded and smiled when appropriate. Truth was, Beth was a bit too happy for his present mood. He kept an eye on Ted, who was driving the command vehicle behind him, in the review mirror. They were almost at Lund. Just a few turns and once again the gang would be together in Illinois. This time Mike wouldn’t be complaining as it was he that brought them there.
He and Mike had been friends for a long time. Mike rarely mentioned Lund except to say that something happened there that convinced him that the existence of ghosts was a certainty not just lore. He never did elaborate on it no matter how Burt tried to draw the information out of him.
“There’s this native American casino that we are going to spend some time at. I’m hoping that I’ll win something. Vegas was such a disappointment,” Beth said.
“Yes, the whole hoax turned me off that place for a good long while,” Burt commiserated.
“Oh, yes, that too. I was talking about not winning anything, not even at slots,” Beth cleared up.
“I’m not much of a gambler myself,” Burt mentioned, hoping she would change the subject. “Our next turn is coming up. Could you check the map for me?”
