by Alexie Aaron
Ronald put down the heavy hammer and watched as the tall tech scanned the wall first and then took dozens of pictures with the various cameras he had hung around his neck.
“Well?” Ronald asked.
“Let’s go upstairs,” Mia urged. “Show me the kitchen.”
Mike heard the investigators climb the stairs and watched as the man of the house led Mia into the open-concept kitchen. He sat back and pretended to listen to the chain-smoking lady of the house tell him how hard it was to find the right contractor.
“We had one all scheduled, and then that bitch down the street offered him a hundred thou. if he’d dump us and take on their pool house.” Gail started coughing. She raised her hand to let Mike know she was alright. The coughing subsided, and she managed to light a new cigarette off the butt of her last one before continuing the story.
Mike wanted to suggest that she look into the cough, perhaps knock back the two cartons a day habit a bit. Or get the tobacco yellow teeth seen to. But he held his tongue. He got up and said, “I’d like to consult with my crew, excuse me.”
Gail watched the handsome man walk away. She pictured herself wearing a nighty and running into his arms for safety. She made a note to go out and buy some expensive lingerie if PEEPs decided to take their case.
Mike quickened his step, and soon he was in the kitchen watching Ronald as he described what happened to the tile man.
“He just started to lift off the first tile,” Ronald said, picking up a small pry bar and a hammer. “He put it under the edge and tapped it. The tile started to move.” Ron tapped it for demonstration’s sake.
Mike watched as the tile began to shake.
Ted picked Mia off the ground and carried her into the hall. He then pulled Mike backwards and instructed, “Stand in the doorway but go no further. Mr. Malone, I suggest you get out of the kitchen.”
Ronald pointed to the tile, which began twisting and turning until it spun off the wall in his direction. He dodged the tile and winced as it broke against the open stud wall behind him. “Did you see that?”
Another tile began shaking.
“Mr. Malone, get out of there now!” Ted said, moving out of the hall, picking up a flat shovel on his way.
The tile twisted off the wall and spun directly towards Ronald.
Ted thrust the flat of the shovel in front of the homeowner’s head, and the tile crashed into it.
Ronald, seeing that it could have been his face the tile hit if the shovel not been there, backed away. Ted got in front of him, and they started to back their way towards the hall.
More tiles detached from the wall and Ted barely managed to escape injury using the shovel like a shield. As soon as he stepped out of the kitchen, the activity stopped.
Mike patted Ted on the back and asked, “How’d you know?”
“The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past.”
“But weren’t they floor tiles?” Mike asked.
“Same thing. I figured that the game designers had to get the idea from somewhere. The ether is a small place at times,” Ted explained. He turned to Ronald and recommended, “I’d stay out of there for a while.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice. Oh my god! What are we going to do?” he asked.
“Let’s go back into the living room and discuss what PEEPs can do for you,” Mike said.
Mia stayed with Ted in the hall, he, still holding the shovel, she, looking at the knight in front of her.
“You’re amazing,” Mia said, hugging him from behind.
“Nah, just your ordinary, everyday superhero,” he said, enjoying her adoration.
“You are…”
“Batman,” he said.
Chapter Three
The waves lapped upon the shore of the remote island. Angelo stood gazing out into Lake Michigan, wrapped in a borrowed robe.
“When you’re ready, tell us why you’ve come,” Refugia, who would rather be known as Judy, asked.
Ed, who would prefer to be called his given name of He–who-walks-through-time, stood next to Judy, watching the birdman closely. Angelo and he were of comparable size. Ed couldn’t change into a bird, but he was a great warrior and had traveled back and forth in time until recently.
“What do you know of Paolo Santos?” Angelo asked.
“Sabine said he was a casualty in the Cold Creek Hollow incident,” Judy replied.
“Did she say he died?” Angelo asked.
“No, she said something… Oh, she said, ‘the jury’s out.’ I looked this up, and it means it hasn’t been decided yet.”
“I have his body at the aerie. Your sisters are keeping it functioning,” Angelo informed the former Gray Lady.
“Ed and I supposed that this was the case. Why are you torturing yourself this way, Angelo?” Judy asked. “If a deer-woman kills a spirit, then it is lost forever.”
“But she didn’t kill Paolo’s spirit. True, her antlers were the instrument of his injuries, but she didn’t carry his spirit to the fires of the Council. Do you see why there is still hope?”
Judy and Ed exchanged glances. They felt the pull of the birdman’s grief and worried that delusion may have set in.
“His brother Constantino has arrived to claim his body for burial. He is giving me one week to prove that somewhere Paolo Santos’s spirit is trapped but returnable to his now healthy body.”
“So why have you come to us?”
“I’ve come to speak to Komal.”
“About bilocation?” Judy asked.
“That and to request that he issue an invitation to Judge Roumain, so I can speak with him too.”
“You’re going to not only speak to Komal but Roumain too? You are a brave man. Last time you and Roumain were together, the two of you did not get along so well,” Ed reminded him.
“I would not disturb these entities unless I was prepared to take the consequences.”
“You must love Paolo to do this,” Judy observed. “I will go and talk to Komal. He remembers you fondly. He said, last time you visited, you were impersonating a saint.”
“Saint Stephen,” Angelo admitted. “It was to lead the slaves away from that monster. I did it on the advice from Beverly Cooper. It worked.”
“I would have loved to have seen it. Please excuse me, I will consult with Komal,” Judy said and walked across the beach and into the maze.
Ed watched her leave. He stood awkwardly, not really wanting to make small talk conversation with the birdman, but he knew this was expected of gentlemen of this time. This is what twenty-first century men did when their mates abandoned them to do other things. “Have you seen any of this baseball?”
“Baseball is a popular sport here in the states, but in Italia not so much so.”
“I hear you can see Wrigley Field from your penthouse. That is where the Chicago Cubs play.”
“I have heard of them. They have a following of many people. They don’t win a lot of prizes, but their watchers are happy.”
“Judy follows the Detroit Tigers. Her team wins a lot,” Ed informed him.
“Do you remember the games you played when you were young?” Angelo asked the time traveler.
“Yes, I always won,” he said proudly.
“Then why do you not pick a winning team?”
“Because it interests me that even if this team loses, they still have followers. When I won, I didn’t have loyal followers like these,” he admitted.
“Are you still looking for followers, He-who-walks-through-time?” Angelo asked, worried. “This is no longer a time for gods to walk the earth.”
Ed started laughing. “I must improve my small talk. I thought I was discussing the baseball.”
Angelo nodded. “So we were.”
Judy appeared with a small bird traveling on her shoulder. Angelo could see that this was not a real bird but a persona of Komal.
“Komal thought you might be more comfortable conversing this way,” Judy said with a mischievous twinkle in
her eye.
“No, I am happier this way. I can converse in a hundred and seventy-four languages, if that helps.”
The bird flew off of Judy’s shoulder, spun around, and with each spin it became bigger. Soon a full-sized man stood there dressed in an orange robe.
“It has been a while, Angelo Michaels,” Komal said.
“Forgive me for my inattentive nature,” Angelo said, bowing his head in shame.
“I do not say this to scold you, son. I am just showing off that I can still keep track of the time, even though I no longer have a body.”
“Mia spoke of this. She too worries about losing time when she OOBs,” Judy said.
“Mia, now there’s a topic for small talk,” Ed said.
“No, dear, that is gossip,” Judy corrected. “Come, mate, let’s leave Komal and Angelo to their conversation.”
“Did I say something wrong?” Ed asked as he followed Judy down the beach.
Komal laughed. “He is trying, but he has far to go.”
“Do you think he is dangerous?” Angelo asked.
“I don’t really know. All I know is that right now he stands on our side of the fence, something I couldn’t say of Paolo Santos every time.”
“He is a good man. Driven, but a good one,” Angelo insisted.
“Judy has brought me up to date on his situation. I have never seen a deer-woman but understand they are very dangerous.”
“It was necessary to call her as we were dealing with a powerful skin-walker,” Angelo explained.
“Tell me more,” Komal said, sitting down on the beach and patting the sand beside him. “Come, sit and tell me what happened in Cold Creek Hollow.”
Ed looked over his shoulder. “They are sitting down,” he reported.
Judy looked amused. “Birdmen and divine spirits do sit.”
“Birdmen perch,” Ed said and laughed at his own joke.
Judy, who had feathers of her own to deal with, frowned.
Ed looked at her, and the realization came over him. “I am sorry. I did not think. I am bad at this small talk, I have discovered,” he said.
“Yes, you are, but you are good at so many other things. Let’s see who can get more skips from a stone.”
“A game I will win. Why do you try?”
“Because it’s supposed to be fun,” Judy explained.
“Throwing rocks in the water is fun? You people confuse me.”
“I can see why you suspect that his spirit may be retrievable, but Paolo Santos’s beliefs are that he will go to his heaven, not be reincarnated.”
“His body breathes on its own. He is not dead,” Angelo argued.
“A fine line you are traversing. How can I help?”
“I was hoping you would be able to help me search for his spirit.”
“I cannot enter the empty chamber, and if I could, I would not be able to find Paolo.”
“I know this. But I don’t think he is there. The problem is, I don’t know where he is.”
“Perhaps the light?” Komal suggested.
“I would feel it here,” Angelo tapped his chest. “He is not there.”
“Purgatory? Is that why you want to talk to Roumain?”
“Yes.”
“It’s possible, but that is one whacky world. I can understand why you would want to consult the judge. I will issue the invitation. I cannot tell you when he will answer. I suggest you check out other leads. I will have Judy do this ‘texting’ when I have heard from Roumain.”
“Thank you, Komal. I will fly to my penthouse and change into something more suitable before I seek out an audience with a boy named Inky.”
“Ira Levisohn?” Komal asked. “Yes, I can see why he may be of some help. Go in peace, my friend.”
Angelo watched Komal vanish before he took off the robe. He folded it nicely and set it on the sand. Angelo moved his shoulders and the tattoo-like feathers began to move on his back, and as he released his wings, he nodded his head towards the odd couple walking along the beach. The superhuman and the former Gray Lady were holding hands, perhaps discussing baseball. Angelo wrapped his wings around himself and disappeared.
“You have to admit the man has style,” Ed said.
“He’s just a birdman, my dear,” Judy said. “You, however, are much more.”
“Thank you,” Ed said simply. He looked down at Judy and smiled. “You are the best thing that has happened to me in many centuries.”
“Well, that’s quite a compliment,” Judy said and hugged him.
They stood there and watched the early evening stars for a while without speaking.
“Do you think Angelo will get what he most wants?” Ed asked.
“I don’t know. The priest is most likely dead, his spirit traveling where Angelo cannot go.”
“I was not talking about the priest,” Ed said softly.
“Let’s hope not then, my dear. Let’s hope not.”
~
“Brenda, I’m so pleased to hear from you,” Mia said into the phone. “No, I’m just being a backseat driver at the moment. Really. Angelo Michaels is a colleague of mine. He did? Well, I think that Inky would be safe talking to him. I would set down some guidelines though. Yes, no OOBing unless Angelo talks to me first. I will make myself available. Goodbye.”
“That’s a conversation I’d like to hear the other side of,” Mike said, twisting around in his chair. “I take it Angelo Michaels is involved?”
“Angelo has requested an interview with Ira Levisohn. That was his mother Brenda on the phone. He mentioned that we were friends, and she should call me before considering the request.”
“You don’t think the man’s going to show up naked?” Ted asked.
“I should hope not,” Mia said. “Why?”
“Well, he changed in front of Cid, and the boy’s never been the same,” Ted explained.
“The morphing can be mind-blowing,” Mia considered.
“No, it’s the naked part.”
“Whoa, you mean Cid got a peak at Angelo’s genitalia?” Mike asked.
Mia appreciated Mike not being graphic. It would bother her husband if he used cruder terms in front of her.
“Yes, I believe toddler’s arm was mentioned,” Ted said.
“Honestly, so the guy’s not just tall-big but big everywhere?” Mike asked.
“Yup, I would have said boa big,” Ted said.
Mia sat back and shook her head. Ted didn’t seem too concerned about talking crap in front of her.
“So, Mia,” Mike started to say, twisting around and looking her full in the face.
“Don’t ask,” Mia warned him, nodding in Ted’s direction.
“Come on, Ted’s got a manacle on you; he’s not worried.”
“Manacle?”
“Wedding ring,” Mike explained.
“Mike, Ted needs no shackle to bind me to him. And he’s got nothing to worry about. That penis… yes, I said penis… of Angelo’s would split a girl in two. Does that answer your question?”
“Crude but effective. The guy doesn’t swing back and forth does he?” Mike asked.
“Dupree, the more I get to know you, the more I wish you were mute,” Mia said. “For both of your information, I do not know Angelo’s sexual preference nor do I care. All I know is that I have no interest in him whatsoever.”
The van became very quiet after that. Ted was driving as well as he could, considering he had one eye on the review mirror, watching his wife. Mike, who felt he was just put in his place, smiled to himself. He picked up his phone to text information on the Malones to Burt. Mia was fuming. She didn’t need Mike feeding any insecure male crap to Ted. She’d seen Angelo naked. She exaggerated the size of his penis. She’d never seen him erect and never wanted to. He was persona non grata when it came to her fantasies. Angelo was dangerous but necessary.
~
Angelo sat at his desk putting his papers and thoughts in order. He sipped on the red wine, feeling it’s warm
th as he swallowed. Wine and alcohol didn’t have the impact on him as it did most men. Whether it was his Italian upbringing – wine with dinner from an early age – or his large size, the result was that he could enjoy the flavor without the worry of inebriation. He looked down at the file he had put together on Ira Levisohn, the now thirteen-year-old male from southern Illinois. His parents Brenda and Albert didn’t exhibit any talent for bilocation like their son experienced. Mia had noted in her report that Ira bilocated out of fear and became trapped in the floor of the middle school he attended. He was found unresponsive, although he was breathing on his own. His body was kept alive, the medical community assuming incorrectly that Ira was in a coma.
“The coincidence is too great. Are you trapped somewhere, Paolo?” Angelo asked the empty room.
Father Paolo Santos first crossed Angelo’s path during an exorcism in South America. The two became allies in the fight of good over evil, and gradually affection of another kind bound the two together. Santos was older, but Angelo had an old soul. Together, the two friends enjoyed many hours discussing the worlds, this earthbound one and the worlds to come. Angelo’s Catholic upbringing gave him insight into the priest’s beliefs. He knew that his friend had tunnel vision at times when it came to what Heaven actually was. But to each their own, as Mia Cooper, Martin, would say, Angelo thought. Martin, how could she have married that man?
“Paolo, you should have never told Theodore to marry Mia,” Angelo said, pouring himself another glass of wine. “How could you betray me this way?”
Angelo got up and walked out into the rooftop garden. He walked to the edge and looked out over the city. He pondered the reasons why Paolo would have taken the course to keep Mia out of his hands. “She would have been magnificent,” he said to the night sky. “We would have fought evil side-by-side…” he stopped and shook his head. “No, not with Stephen Murphy around,” he realized.
Mia would always have the farmer’s back and he hers. Angelo had seen the two fight entities that would crush them individually, but together they succeeded. Mia made the axe-carrying ghost stronger, and he influenced her with their friendship. Angelo had been early on the scene of Mia’s emerging talents but too late to take her heart.
