"Right? Come on. It's spot on, man."
She tossed him a coy smile. "So, what do you like best about the series?" I'm almost feeling comfortable.
Paul sent her a heart stopping grin. "It's funny; the music and dance rocks and I get a kick out of all the adults. Sue Sylvester has some great lines."
No kidding! Her character is brilliant. "Yeah, she sure does, and did you see the episode where the football players danced during a game?"
"Yeah, laughed my ass off. You?"
"I like the gay guy, Kurt; he cracks me up. Next to Sylvester, he's my favorite character. I loved the episode where he told his father he was gay and his father already knew. It made me cry."
Paul felt a mental poke. Bartholomew was getting restless. If he screwed this up, his sister Paddy would pay for his mistakes. "Hey, not to change the subject, but tell me about your grandmother. What's she like?"
He looks uncomfortable. "She's great—kind of quirky—but so much fun. I love Gran," Toni said in a rush, her face heating up. Surely it's not the gay thing?
"Quirky?" Paul asked, and swallowed hard, his eyes twitching toward Toni.
"Gran is all Otherworld-like. She believes in ghosts, prays to spirits, reads tarot cards, has all sorts of really cool books on the subject, and it's hard to keep up with her from one minute to the next. She has special candles and incense, so her house always smells so good. It's like she can read my thoughts and always has the right answers." Toni took a breath. I'm babbling. He looks tense. Did talking about Kurt on Glee totally freak him out? What's with guys and homosexuality?
"She sounds very interesting," Paul said, his next words spoken quickly, "I'd really like to meet her. Maybe you can introduce me to her at the viewing tomorrow? That is, if you don't mind that I come. Am I acting like a stalker?" He laughed, his hands fidgeting on the steering wheel.
Toni studied Paul. Man, he's acting weird. "I bet she would love to meet you. She's been telling me that I need to get out and date." Toni blushed. Ohmigod, did I just say that?
"Cool, maybe Granny and I can team up. Then I'll get you out on a real date." Paul laughed. "In fact, how about I take you home tomorrow after the viewing and maybe we can go for a ride, just talk?"
Oh yeah, and we've just seen how good I am at that. Not! "That sounds good. We can go to Pizza Hut and grab something to eat." What am I thinking? Am I so totally cold and callous? My sister just died, and her viewing is tomorrow. I'm starting to act like every other sex-charged kid my age. That is so not me.
Paul smiled at Toni, as he pulled up to the funeral parlor. "I was thinking of someplace a little more private."
So not ready for the private thing. "K," Toni said, heart hammering like she'd just finished a marathon run.
"Let's get inside before they lock the doors," Paul suggested, his eyes twinkling, his lips turned up in such a cute grin that it made her blush and had her tummy doing strange things.
She turned away, glancing down at the blue and white envelope lying on the car seat between them. What am I doing?
Chapter Ten
Three apparitions shot south through a starlit sky at the speed of a fast moving automobile, unseen by the earthly creatures below.
Sara gazed in awe at flickering lights whizz under her as they whipped over the small town of Bethany, West Virginia.
"Where exactly in Florida does Gran live, dear?" Ruth's voice popped the silence.
Sara yelped and whipped her head toward the older woman, creating a long drag of smoke. "Sheesh, you don't have to be so loud. You scared the crap out of me."
"Sorry, dear. I didn't mean t'frighten yer bowels int'a dither, but do y' 'ave a landmark we'll be lookin' fer in Florida?"
"Huh?" Sara lifted her upper lip and scrunched her nose. "She lives in a condo right on the beach in New Smyrna. It's by the lifeguard station near the showers. When gran wasn't around, I usually sat on her balcony and watched all the hunky guys hang out."
"Oh, honey, that sounds like my kind of place," Martin said, flitting past Sara as she picked up the pace.
"Blessyeroveractivelibido, we aren't on holiday, Martin, and I'd kindly like y't'stay focused on the matter at 'and, I would." Ruth turned to Sara. "Does Granny live alone, dear?"
"Yes, just her and her cat, Rufus," Sara answered. "She's a crotchety old bat. We don't get along—just so you know before we get there. Gran was always trying to change me, always judging me next to Toni. Hated it! Told me I was the devil's spawn. Right? Go figure?"
"Y'say the devil's spawn, dear? Now why-"
"Swell! This isn't going to end well," Martin said.
"Come on! She won't even know we're there." Sara sneered. "I can't wait to rearrange the shelves of her precious book collection—send them flying—and scare the hell out of the cat. He always hisses at me."
"Blessyerrancorous'eart, I'm thinkin' we should enlighten 'er, Martin." Ruth pushed her palm through the center of her breasts.
"You enlighten her," Martin said, suddenly lagging behind. "All I got to say, girlfriend, if you think your life was hell, just wait."
"That's enough, Martin," Ruth warned with a sympathetic face for Sara. She tapped her hand through Sara's shoulder repeatedly as she spoke. "Sara, dear, necromancers can not only see ghosts, but-"
But Ruth didn't finish her statement because the wind cranked up and blew them about in a whirl of blended ectoplasmic pieces and parts. They passed through each other several times, hands grasping, feet flailing. The air crackled, a vortex opened, and Sara was plucked from the trios echoing screams.
Martin and Ruth watched, horrified, as Sara's little, pink, transparent body spun around the hole as though she was being sucked into one of those smokeless ashtrays. The air popped, Sara disappeared, and the vortex closed.
"Blessgransnecromancin'eart, I believe she knew we were comin'."
"Shit!" Martin came to an abrupt stop. "So now what?"
"I think we should pick up our pace, dear."
***
Sara fell through the ceiling, arms and legs thrashing, and landed butt first in a circle of salt, drawn on floor in the middle of Gran's living room. Her grandmother sat in a rocking chair outside the circle, smiling around a face full of wrinkles. Her hair was combed back in a severe bun at the base of her neck; reading glasses rested on the bridge of her nose and made her eyes look large.
Candles flickered around the dimly lit room, and the heady smell of frankincense wafted in thick curls from long incense sticks, jutting out of many different ornamental holders that sat on the surrounding tables.
Rufus, a short haired Abyssinian with a richly colored tabby coat and dramatic facial markings, hissed and spat at Sara from the other side of the salt line.
"Dead, huh? Well, how special is that, Sara?" Gran pulled her spectacles off the bridge of her nose.
"Go on! You can see me?" Sara made a beeline for the chair but was stopped dead, looking very much like the preverbal bug on a windshield.
"What the hell? I can't get out?" Sara shouted as she rammed her transparent body against different parts of the shimmery layer of air around the circle.
"No, you can't, and you and I are going to have a little talk tonight, because we leave for Michigan in about six hours and I want you to understand a few things."
"How can you see me and hear me?" Sara asked, "You're not dead are you?" Sara studied the long, ornate bookshelf that lined the wall behind her grandmother, not through her.
"Hardly. I can see you and hear you because I'm a necromancer. It's what we do," Gran said. "I watched your display of aggression at the hospital. It was entertaining and quite informative. You do have some amazing powers. I didn't think I could stop you, but was pleasantly surprised to make a connection and control you quite well."
"How did you watch me from here?"
"I don't have time for trivial questions. I have a lot to do before leaving," Gran announced, picking up the cat and placing him on her lap. Abyssinians were not known for
being lap cats, and Rufus squirmed under her attention.
Sara dove at her grandmother. The old woman laughed when Sara ricocheted off the warded circle again. "Settle down. As amusing as this is, I have much to discuss with you."
Sara growled. "I don't like being caged, Gran. So cut the crap and let me out of here."
"I can't do that until I make sure you will behave yourself." Her grandmother shook an arthritic finger at Sara. "Your sister is very important to me at the moment. She's-"
"What else is new?" Sara glared, leaned in and placed her palms against the shield, looking like an irritated mime.
"Your sister is now the only family member left who can carry on our legacy, and I won't have you interfering with that."
"What do you mean, interfere?" Sara hooded her eyes.
Rufus hissed, his tail slapping Gran's chest.
"How much do you know about the gift?" Gran asked, trying to calm the cat with soft strokes across its back.
Sara answered, "I know Toni has to have sex after her eighteenth birthday and not before, or she loses her chance at becoming what you are, whatever that is. And I also know that someone is after her, Gran. And that someone killed me. I can't let him hurt Toni, and neither should you!"
Rufus jumped down and paced around the circle of salt, ears back, and tail jerking over hind quarters.
"Bartholomew doesn't want to hurt your sister," Gran informed her with a raised eyebrow. "He very much wants her to live and receive her inheritance. Evidently, you were in his way, and I'm sorry for that, but what's done is done and we move on."
"Move on! I'm dead! I want the sucker to burn in Hell! You with me or do I have to do this on my own?"
"I will not help you, nor will I let you. We'd be doing your sister a great injustice."
"How do you know this shit?" Sara huffed. "And can you stop Rufus from spitting at me. What the hell?"
Rufus hiked his back, scampering sideways, a growl deep in his throat.
"Watch your mouth, young lady, and let's not worry about Rufus. We can go over my abilities at a more appropriate time, but for now all you need to know is that Bartholomew is a seer, and a dead one, which I would have given anything to find in my youth. He can offer your sister, and this family, more than we could dream of having. And when your sister accepts her gift, she will have something to entice him to stay for years to come. The strength of our family is in Toni's hands."
"What makes you think she'd want to give him anything after she finds out he killed me?" Sara snapped.
The cat was now sitting perfectly still, watching Sara with interest.
"She will never find out he killed you. I won't let that happen, dead or alive," Gran warned, a frown adding more wrinkles to her pallid forehead.
"You-are-not! The-boss! Of-me!" Sara shouted.
Rufus leapt and landed neatly on the fifth shelf of the bookcase in a space no bigger than his body. He surveyed the silent room, then pawed his twitching tail and began to lick it.
Gran pushed back into the rocker, letting it move slowly forward. "Yes. I. Am. And should you try to communicate with your sister, I will make your existence in the spirit world very uncomfortable. I can, and will ban you to a place you will not find pleasant, Sara. On the other hand, if you work with me, you will be allowed to enjoy the spirit world. You can pop in and out of your friends' bodies, haunt as you wish. I will not stop you. Know your place, Sara."
"Why does he want her?" Sara asked, momentarily shifting her attitude with the respectful tone of her voice.
"While in human form, a seer cannot comprehend pleasure or pain, fear or love," Gran said, and gave Sara a stern set of eyes under salt and pepper brows. "However, in spirit form, a special necromancer, a channeling necromancer, could afford a seer the joys of a somewhat human existence. This does not happen often; and to think the seer prophesized his own future over a thousand years ago and then had to find the necromancer in the prophecy. I still can't believe Toni is that person."
"Oh, yeah, like I'd jump right on that shit if I were Toni. Why?" Sara laughed.
"Because, in return she will share his seer abilities; a profound knowledge of those around her, and foresight into future events. Future events she would be able to manipulate through the spirit world. Think about it. Toni would be laying a foundation for her children or their children when the family gift resurfaces."
"Toni won't go for it," Sara said with a smirk. "I know her. She's not who you think she is."
Rufus stopped paying attention to personal hygiene and locked eyes on Sara.
"True, you would have been better suited; but it wasn't you he was looking for. Sara, I also know your sister, and she can be persuaded if she thinks she could help or contribute to the welfare of mankind. Who knows, she might actually be able to do so."
"This sucks, and I'm dead. He killed me! What about that?" Sara sat on the floor glaring at the cat, her hands inside her stomach as she tried to hug herself.
"Bartholomew made a powerful statement—we can't change that—and the value of his gift certainly outweighs punishment for his course of action. I'm sorry, Sara. I will be here to help you adjust, but hear me now, I'll be your worst enemy if you challenge me."
"What the hell? You've got to be kidding me!" Sara said.
"It's not always about you, Sara. For just one time, think about your sister, the future of our family, your mother who works her knuckles to the bone at that hair salon to support you and your sister."
"Like I have a choice, right?" Sara asked. "You'll ban me, right?" Sara strutted around inside the unseen walls of her prison. "Where exactly would you ban me? I need a visual threat."
"Let's just say, if you disobey me, you'll find out what it's like to be stuck for an eternity in a place full of . . . well . . . spirits that are not willing to accept themselves. Very angry spirits, not at all like the new friends you've made. Or I could simply make you an obedient pet." Gran turned to Rufus with an amusing grin.
"Back up! You so didn't just hint you can put me inside of Rufus, did you?"
"It's a possibility, although three spirits would not fit inside of Rufus, but I can send all three of you to-"
"Ruth and Martin? Is that who you mean?"
"Yes." Gran got up, adjusting her mint green, polyester pantsuit over her skinny frame. "They will join you with those unhappy spirits if they plan on assisting you in this crazy endeavor. And if you decide to haunt alone, you'll be the one licking Rufus's tail."
"Man, this is so not fair." Sara toed the edge of the circle. "Can I at least get out of here, now?"
"I assume by that remark you are willing to accept my proposal. So let's get a move on, shall we?"
***
"Blessyerunbeatin'eart, y'can come in now, Martin. It looks like they're gone, dear."
Martin passed his head through the sliding glass doors on the balcony and peeked around Gran's living room. "Are you sure?"
Ruth hovered over a semi-circle drawn on the wooden floor in the center of the room. "There's only half'a salt circle. It's been breached, Martin. Don't dally, dear, they've left, they 'ave, so we can make ourselves at 'ome, we can."
Martin hesitated, his eyes jerking around the living room. "Smells like frankincense, she definitely summoned her. Poor Sara. Now what?" He floated in, flitting about the room.
Ruth wafted over to a leather-bound book lying on the coffee table. "Look, Martin, a fancy book. And it's opened, it is. Shame we can't turn the pages."
Martin strutted over, his feet three inches off the carpet. "Think she left it open to the family tree as a warning? I don't trust necromancers, Ruth."
"Maybe she was showin' it t'Sara, Martin. Let's not get all analytical, blessyeruntrustingsoul."
"Honey, she's the top-of-the-line, Hoover vacuum of the spirit world. Let's call it like it is." Martin worked his hand as though he was orchestrating the visual.
"There's many a spirit that enjoys the suckage, dear," Ruth stated.
&
nbsp; Martin rolled his smoggy blue eyes. "What's the old biddy's name?"
"Let me see, the list goes back t'the fifteen hundreds, it does," Ruth said, studying the top of the page. "The first name in the book is Katherine Antoinette Maestro, born in Italy in 1527. And there's a star next t' 'er name."
"Look!" Martin sounded excited, his eyes bulging out over the page. "Gran's grandmother's name was Katherine, too. She never married and kept the surname Maestro, and she had a daughter named Paulette. Paulette married and had a girl named Antoinette Katherine in 1936."
Ruth frowned. "There's no star next to Paulette's name, there isn't. But there's one after Gran's name and she also never married. Hmm, it seems only the unmarried women on this family tree 'ave a star after their name. And lookey there; all o'them birthed illegitimate girls, too. The name Katherine seems to skip a generation, it does. And all bear the surname Maestro, they do."
"There was a lot of Katherine's, Ruth. One-two-three-four-five-"
Ruth interrupted, "Antoinette Katherine Maestro is Sara's grandmother's name. She never married but gave birth to one child, Jezebel, who did marry as we well know and delivered two girls to the world."
"But Toni's name isn't Katherine and neither is Sara's," Martin said all excited, "and both have the Farrell surname, right?" Martin zeroed in on the bottom of the page, his face floating inches from the book. "Ohmigod, Toni's listed here as Antoinette Katherine Farrell-Maestro."
"Yes, dear, and Sara's birth name is, Sara Katherine Farrell-Maestro." Ruth shook her head. "But-"
"Well, Shit!"
"What if Sara also 'as an ability t'summon?" Ruth said, one eyebrow reaching for her hairline, her finger pointing at the bottom of the page. "Look 'ere, Martin, a statement o'rules."
With a foreboding look, Martin placed his hand into his chin.
Ruth clucked her tongue at him. "Blessyerapprehensivequalities, a little schoolin' never 'urts, dear, it doesn't."
They both concentrated on the last paragraph. After a few moments of silence, a perplexing sentiment passed between them.
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