Homecoming

by Alexie Aaron

  Murphy returned and stood before Mia. “Well?”

  He smiled and put up one finger.

  “You found one book?”

  He smiled larger and put up another finger.

  She gasped and announced, “Murphy’s says both books are there.”

  “Ask him about the quality,” Beth pleaded.

  Mia just looked at her. “Now how the hell do you describe quality to a ghost?”

  “Sorry, just got excited.”

  Mike turned to his mother and asked, “This is your call, ma.”

  “Go ahead, tear down the wall. Be careful.”

  Mike and Burt got up and headed for the stairs.

  “Change your clothes first,” Glenda ordered.

  Ted walked over and handed Mia a cup of coffee and sat down on the floor next to her. “Do you want to come and watch?”

  “A lot of stairs, Ted, and I’m not exactly very agile at the moment.”

  “I’ll carry you.”

  Mia looked over at Glenda who shook her head but relented. “Go on and have some fun. I’ll be down here biting my nails.”

  Ted picked her up in his arms and headed upstairs. By the time they reached the attic, Ted confessed, “I’m sure glad we did this before you ate all that pudding.” He eased her through the doorway, and she smiled seeing he had already placed the lounge chair from the command vehicle.

  “You knew this was going to happen,” she accused the tech.

  “I’m not just a pretty face. I’m excellent at deductions.”

  “No shit, Sherlock,” Mia said. As he lowered her to the chair she whispered, “I missed your smell, Teddy bear.”

  “I believe you said that I smell like coffee, red licorice and…”

  “Unsatisfied desire,” Mia finished.

  He looked at her for a moment, started to say something but changed his mind. They heard heavy footfalls on the stairs. Mike and Burt emerged with picks, sledge hammers and chisels.

  “Where’s Beth?” Ted asked.

  “Taking some meals over to the Feebs. She’s got her eye on a suit,” Burt informed them.

  “About time,” Ted said and put his hat on backward and picked up a pickaxe. “Shall we get to this, gentlemen?”

  Mia watched as the men took turns attacking the wall. It reminded her of the asylum, but in this case the inmates were doing the deconstruction. When they had achieved breaking through, Burt took a chisel and widened the hole so a person could fit through. He sent Ted, the thinnest into the room. The attic was quiet. Mike wiped sweat from his forehead. Burt kept sticking his head into the room, watching Ted.

  Ted came out of the room carrying a stack of books. He walked over to Mia and handed her the two missing volumes of the set. She smiled at him and nodded in Mike’s direction.

  “We have the books!” Ted told him.

  Mike came rushing over, and Mia handed him the dusty volumes. “Take them down to your ma,” she instructed.

  Burt squeezed into the room to look around. Mia looked at the other books Ted had brought her. He lowered himself to the floor and watched as she opened the journals of Jonas Lund. A wave of emotion hit Mia, and she started crying. Ted handed her a wad of tissues from his pocket.

  “You’re always prepared.”

  “Most of us superheroes are,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “You’re Batman,” Mia said softly.

  “Yes, but don’t let it get around. You want to go in there and take a look?”

  Mia looked at her wrapped leg and shrugged.

  “It’s bigger than you might imagine. Dusty as hell. Wait, would hell be dusty?”

  “Wouldn’t the dust just burn off?” Mia questioned.

  “Good point. Come on, I know you’re curious.” Ted took the journals from her and got up and pulled her into his arms. “Mia, this is getting to be a habit. Me going over thresholds with you.”

  Mia suppressed the thrill those words made and just rolled her eyes instead. She held on to Ted as he squeezed them through the doorway. Burt was sitting at a desk that was positioned at the window. Ted put Mia down on the single bed in the corner of the space. The room was filled with books, toys, and drawings. Ted opened cupboards and pulled out items for Mia to see. There was handmade clothing out of the softest of cottons. The stiches were even and put in with love. She eyed the single chair and envisioned Jonas’s mother sitting there, reading her son to sleep. Suddenly there was a weight next to her on the bed. She turned to see Jonas sitting there.

  “Jonas is here,” she told Ted and Burt. “Thank you, Jonas, for saving my life.”

  “My pleasure,” the most elegant voice came out of the handsome face that looked at her fondly. “Thank you, for finding me. Redeeming me and reuniting me with my brother.”

  “I seem to be running into twins a lot lately,” Mia said and told Jonas about the Hoffman boys.

  “Did they move on?” he asked interested.

  “Yes, I believe they did.”

  “They were baptized though. Joel is, and I’m not. I won’t be welcomed.”

  The realization hit Mia like a sledgehammer. She quickly composed herself. “Jonas, you don’t have to be baptized to go to heaven. You just have to believe in it. I think Joel is staying because he doesn’t want you to be left behind.”

  “I am responsible for him dying. They thought it was him, no one knew it was me. I touched the pretty lady. I watched her from this window. She’d lie with the men in the circle by the well. I wanted to be with her to touch her soft skin. To…” his voice trailed off. “But look at me. Even in death I’m a monster.”

  “I don’t think you’re a monster. I understand wanting to be with someone. You were so lonely. You have to forgive yourself. We are going to bury you with your brother. You need to move on with him. This world holds too much pain, move to the next.”

  Ted tapped Mia’s arm and said, “Tell him that in the next world monsters are princes and dreams are reality. That whatever troubled you here is gone there.”

  Mia grabbed Ted’s hand and squeezed it. “Jonas, Ted knows a lot about things, I bet you that he’s right.”

  They heard footsteps on the stairs. Mike moved quickly into the room and pointed into the attic. “He’s here. Joel is here.”

  Jonas took Mia’s other hand. “I’m scared,” he admitted.

  Mia and the others watched as the black mass moved into the room and stood before the bed. Mia could see bits of the man Joel was. He was all messed up with anger and hopelessness.

  “Joel,” Jonas cried. “I’m so sorry, please forgive me.”

  Joel looked down at his brother. He then looked at Mike who had sustained him for so long and back again at his twin. “I couldn’t let them find you. I died protesting my innocence. I did it for you.”

  “When I found out that those horrible men hung you. I couldn’t live with myself. I opened the well and jumped in. A crab man belongs in the depths. I went where I should have been all along,” Jonas explained.

  “Then I died for nothing!” Joel screamed.

  The corporal beings watched as the mass grew larger. Mia grabbed Jonas’s clawed hand in fear.

  “Stop it! You are scaring my friend,” Jonas ordered.

  “Your friend? How can you have a friend when you are dead?” Joel challenged.

  Murphy appeared and moved between Mia and Joel. Jonas said, “He’s her friend, he’s dead. She’s my friend, and I’m dead. The farmer, he’s my friend too.”

  “Joel, you have to move on,” Mia said with a quiver to her voice. “Jonas needs to move on, and you have to take him.” Mia looked at Murphy, and he stepped aside.

  The little room was crowded with people. The PEEPs men hung back and let Mia do her thing.

  “From my understanding, there’s a light and on the other side is another place. I’m not sure what it is, but I know that beauty and peace radiate from it. Jonas needs your forgiveness or he can’t cross. You need to let go of Mike and your anger or
you will be stuck here too. You can stay, it’s your choice, but you have to let go of Mike. You let him go voluntarily or I will find someone to make you leave. Then you will have no choice of where you go,” Mia took care not to provoke Joel but threatened him just the same. “If your mother was here, she would want the two of you to be together. Look at all the love in this room. I held Jonas’s baby sweater in my hands and felt her love. Don’t let that horrible night stop you and Jonas from finding happiness, maybe even finding her again,” Mia pleaded.

  As Joel listened to the woman holding on to his brother’s mutant hand as if it were normal, he started to see reason where there had only been anger before. He looked at his brother holding Mia’s hand in his. He was tired, so very tired. “Jonas, you don’t need forgiveness, but I forgive you.”

  Jonas let go of Mia’s hand and reached up towards Joel.

  Burt, Mike and Ted watched as the whirling black mass became a man. Joel reached for Jonas, and the two stood together. Mia saw the brothers turn and look through the doorway into the attic. They saw standing before them a small beautiful woman with sad eyes.

  “Astrid,” Mia said softly, “is here for her sons,” she told the others.

  Astrid Lund looked at Mia briefly and nodded. She then gazed upon her sons and smiled. Mia watched as their expressions turned from sorrow to joy. She opened her arms, the men became boys again, and they ran to her. There was a flash of brilliance and then they were gone.

  Mia sniffed, ignoring the tears that streamed down her face. She felt Ted’s hand in hers, and she clung to it. He was her anchor to this world. She sniffed again. “They’re gone,” was all she said. Her emotions took over, and she started to sob. The three men in her life looked on, helpless to ease her pain. Murphy didn’t understand what was happening and moved nervously around the room. Burt nudged Mike, and the two walked out of the place to give her room. Ted wasn’t going anywhere.

  Mia told him what had happened.

  “Minnie Cooper, why are you so sad then?” he asked lifting her chin.

  “I’m feeling a bit sorry for myself. They had a mother that loved them enough to come back for them. I don’t have that. I won’t ever have that.”

  “But you have us,” Ted said. “And Bernard and Ralph. Murphy… No, that’s not a good example. What I’m trying to say is, that, Mia, you are loved. You are loved by us. We won’t ever let you be forgotten.” Ted softened his voice and looked into her eyes and promised, “If I go first, I’ll hang with Murph until you go. There is no place on this earth that you can be that I won’t find you. I’m very good. I can find anything. I will hack heaven if I have to, to get us a reservation.”

  Mia smiled. She blew her nose. Burt stuck his head in the door. “Are you done with all the hysterics? Murphy’s at it again. Honestly, if you can’t control your child you had better find someone that can,” Burt admonished halfheartedly. “He already upset Glenda by opening the oven and slamming it causing the popovers to poop. Anyway, that’s what she said.”

  Mia smiled and nodded a silent thanks to Burt for interrupting Ted. She wasn’t sure how she felt about anything right now, let alone anyone. She was hopped up on pain meds and in a very vulnerable place.

  “Is Mike around?” Mia asked.

  “Yes,” Mike said from the attic. She heard him approach, and he stood there staring at her. “Well?”

  “Um, how do you feel?”

  “About the same. Maybe a little lighter. I understand the human soul weighs…”

  “Asshole,” Mia said and crossed her arms.

  Ted looked at the two of them and discounted Mike as any competition. She may be Mrs. Dupree to the hospital staff, but she wouldn’t in a million years ever take on that title on a permanent basis.

  “Come on you two,” Burt said. “We have a celebration to get to. My turn to carry the baggage.”

  “Well, fuck me and leave me a rose, Burt, you’re not such a prize either,” Mia complained as he hefted her up into his arms. Ted shook his head and listened to those two bicker all the way down the stairs. As he turned out the light in the attic, he froze for a moment. Standing there looking at him was a man of middle height. He wore work clothes and carried an axe.

  “Murphy?” Ted asked.

  Murphy reached for his hat, tipped it to the tech and disappeared.

  ***

  Darker than Dark

  The Fourth Haunted novel by Alexie Aaron

  Chapter One

  Gwen didn’t like bedtime. She always felt like she was missing out on something her older siblings were doing. Right now she could hear their laughter as it drifted up from the family room. They, along with her parents, had nestled in to watch a popular television comedy show. Gwen, falling under the too young category, was tucked hastily into bed. The brilliant-colored, handmade heirloom quilt did little to ease the pout on her wide moon face. She pushed herself up until she sat with her back against the wooden headboard and started to plan all the things she was going to do when she grew up. She was thinking about roller skating in the kitchen when the panes in the window shook slightly from the rumble of thunder not too far away.

  Gwen nervously stroked her braid of long brown hair while her brown eyes searched the nightlight-lit room. She acknowledged the familiar shadows. The rocker in the corner that was filled with her dolls that sat motionless by the window. The dresser, with its overstuffed drawers barely closed, stood like a sentry by the door that was opened a crack. The bedroom door being ajar was more for her benefit than her parents need to look in on her. Gwen needed to see the hall light. She, like most children, was afraid of the dark. Light was important to her. It turned all the gray things colorful and, most importantly, kept the darker-than-darks away.

  She had become acquainted with darker-than-darks early in her life. In her infancy, as soon as she could determine the difference between gray and black, more precisely blacker than black, she could see them. Before that she could feel them. She sensed them move out from the dark corners of the room, across the floor, and wind their way up the crib legs and into the bed with her. They caressed her face and tugged her covers up and down. One had the disturbing habit of entering her ears until she felt the unbearable pressure. She heard the thump of her rapid heartbeat in concert with a much slower one. As a baby she would cry out. Most times this resulted in being picked up and cooed until she fell back asleep.

  In the old days it only took a parent crossing the threshold of her room to make the darker-than-darks go away. But as she grew older, they grew bolder. Gwen would chance the chastisement of interrupting her parents’ evening’s entertainment or much sought after sleep by crying out in fear. The mild debasement she received, being told that she was too old to be frightened of the dark, was worth it when she saw the black shadows flow quickly off the bed and head for the corners.

  From the time she could hold a crayon in her hand, she tried in vain to explain what was happening to her with pictures. She would hand the drawings to her mother. These always brought on the conversation. Her mother would seek out the counsel of her father. The two of them would sit with their eyebrows knitted in confusion. Her mother would lay a comforting hand on her head before the two of them would leave her room. Once she tip-toed down the hall, following them and listened at their closed bedroom door. There she overheard a discussion of something called therapy. She wasn’t sure what therapy was. She remembered hearing her father say that going to church was therapy for the soul. Gwen didn’t care if she had to sit through a thousand consecutive Sunday school classes as long at the darker-than-darks went away.

  Tonight felt different. The shadows in the corners seemed larger than normal, and there were more of them. The cracks in the old wainscoting appeared deeper and darker. She sensed their movement under her bed earlier than usual. What was different? What had riled up the demons tonight? What kind of abuse did they have in store for her now?

  The wind of an approaching storm slapped the house with the vi
ciousness of an insulted debutant. Gwen watched as the hall light dimmed, the electricity browning out. It surged briefly, sending the adult members of the household running to turn off computers, unplug expensive appliances, while her brother and sister complained about missing the ending to the television show they were all watching. Flashlights were located, candles and matches sought. They all knew the drill. It had happened before. The brownout foretold the coming of a blackout. Battery alarm clocks would be set, and the occupants of 1634 Hillside Drive would retire earlier than normal.

  Gwen moved off of her bed quickly and ran to the door. She moved stealthily down the hall into her parents’ bedroom. She planned to plant herself in the middle of the king-sized bed and refuse to move until the storm passed and lights were restored. The lights flickered again. Com Ed was trying valiantly to keep the suburbs lit as the flow of electricity was hampered by blown transformers and downed lines.

  Lightning lit the western sky. Gwen looked out of her parents’ window from her perch on the bed. She didn’t mind lightning and the roll of thunder after. Anything that brought light was good.

  “Gwen?” her mother’s voice asked from down the hall, “Where are you?”

  “In here, Mommy,” she called out.

  Her tall, beautiful mother walked down the hall and into the room. “Is the storm scaring you?” she asked in a sympathetic voice.

  “Yes,” Gwen lied.

  “You know you’re getting too old to sleep with Mommy and Daddy.”

  “Yes, but the storm…”

  “How about I stay with you until the storm passes? This way Daddy can get some sleep. He has to go to work in the morning,” her mother suggested.

  Gwen nodded, trying not to let her defeat show. It didn’t matter if her mother was in the room, tonight the darker-than-darks would still come.