by Alexie Aaron
“At least I’m not pregnant,” he teased.
“Well, you have me there.”
Father Santos stood up, walked over and took Mia’s bare hands in his. “I would like to offer my best wishes and blessings on this child. I wish also to thank you for stepping back and allowing Ted and Cid to help Angelo in retrieving me. I know that had to be hard to do.”
“It was a nightmare, and speaking of nightmares, I have a question for you. Do you think that Judge Roumain can influence a living person’s behavior?”
Santos thought a moment. “Perhaps. He does walk a line between good and evil. He certainly is a powerful entity. Why?”
“Nothing I want to talk about now. Tell me, how are you? You look fit and younger. Ralph’s going to split a gut when he sees you.”
“I feel rested. I’m anxious to hear about what you’ve been up to.”
Mia begged for a cup of coffee from Angelo who looked at her oddly. “Why are you begging?”
“I’m not supposed to have too much coffee while I’m pregnant,” Mia confessed.
“Nonsense, my mother, she drank five cups of coffee a day while carrying me,” he said proudly.
“But you have feathers…” Mia said and pushed the cup away from her.
Father Santos laughed so hard that he got the hiccups. When he calmed down, he said, “Mia, Angelo’s coffee isn’t as strong as Ted’s. Drink and enjoy.”
Angelo gazed at her and looked like he wanted to say something but was frightened.
“Spill it, what did you do?”
“Nothing. I was just thinking that you will make a wonderful mother.”
“You’d be the first. Most people are taking bets I’ll drop the kid before it’s…”
“He,” Angelo said.
Mia looked at him and tears filled her eyes. “He?”
“You are carrying a little boy. I saw it when I woke you. He is healthy and growing. I’m afraid you will experience much stretching…”
“Angelo, that’s not a proper conversation,” Santos warned.
“Paolo is trying to teach me manners,” Angelo explained. “I’m trying to teach him how to dodge deer horns.”
Mia couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up. She didn’t know if Angelo meant it as in inappropriate joke or not. To her it was funny, and by the look in Santos’s eyes, he thought so too.
When things had settled down, Mia asked, “Is there anything I can do for you, Father?”
“No, I just wanted to see my friend again. Father Alessandro said you were beside yourself in grief but still pulled it together to finish our business in the hollow.”
“Father Alessandro is kind. Thank you for coming here, even though you had to bring the birdman,” Mia said softly.
“I see that the two of you have made peace with each other. This pleases me, Mia. Angelo has many demons to face, and he needs a friend. I can’t be there for him always. I would like to know that you’ll look after him.”
Mia grabbed his hand. “You’re not ill? You’re not getting ready to leave us, are you?”
“No, but one never knows. My experience has taught me that you have to live each day like it’s your last. No more arguments left unsettled. With the exception of Father Alessandro, he really…”
“Fluffs your feathers?” Angelo offered.
“Yes, he does that, doesn’t he?”
Murphy waited until Father Santos and Angelo had driven off before he came out of hiding. He tapped on the kitchen window where Mia was washing up the cups.
“Come on in. You make a lousy doorman,” she said.
He moved through the wall and positioned himself between her and the table.
“Careful, you are so close, I could inhale you, bud,” Mia warned him.
He reached forward and put a hand to her forehead.
Mia didn’t know what he was trying to do. She felt a tingle. “Do I have a fever?”
He shook his head and tried again.
This time Mia stepped back, startled. It felt like a flesh and blood hand touching her. “How?”
He just angled his head and looked at her.
“I don’t mind telling you that this is weighing on the creepy side of things. Do you want to explain yourself?”
He took a step back and gave her some room. “Practicing.”
“K, go on,” she urged.
“Want to hold baby. Don’t want to be Pinocchio with baby.”
Mia smiled crookedly. “Stephen Murphy, you never cease to surprise me. Speaking of surprises, Angelo says we’re having a boy.”
Murphy’s face lit up. He was so excited, he lost opaqueness for a moment. Mia waited until he calmed himself.
“Blue is for boys,” he said.
“Yes, I guess that’s traditional. Why?”
“Secret.”
“K. Keep your secret. But beware, Ted will find a way to get you to spill it.”
Murphy shook his head.
Mia held out her bare hand. “Do it again?” she asked.
Murphy put his hand in hers. To Mia it felt like a hand, a bit cold, but she could tell he was trying to regulate the heat. “That feels good.”
Murphy continued to hold her hand a while. To Mia it may have been just a hand she was holding, but to Murphy it was heaven.
Chapter Thirty-one
Mia arrived at the Wheatons with a wide smile and three dozen homemade cookies.
“Mia, I told you to spend the afternoon in bed, not make cookies,” Ted scolded, taking a fistful of the cookies she’d named Quackers.
“I had visitors. I’ll tell you later. Oh, and this is for you, Pa,” Mia said, handing him a hastily wrapped package.
Ted sat down, oblivious to the other PEEPs who had inched their way over to see what Mia had brought him. Ted opened the paper, and within the package was a baseball mitt. It was closed around something. Inside it was a smaller mitt, child’s size, and inside that one was a blue baseball. “You mean?”
“It’s going to be a boy!” Mia said, jumping up and down.
“How do you know?” he asked, picking her up and twirling her around.
Mia leaned in and whispered, “Angelo told me.”
He stopped and set her down. He looked alarmed. “He was here?”
“He and Father Santos. Don’t worry, Murphy was chaperoning.”
A light scrape of metal on pavement confirmed Mia’s story.
“Well, I was a bit confused with the blue ball. I though Mia was cutting you off, old man, but Audrey explained it to me,” Mike said, patting Ted on the back.
“So you managed to get a Y chromosome into play. Who would have thought it,” Cid teased.
Mia drew herself away from the male huddle and backed into Burt.
“I’m so happy for you, Mia. Boy or girl, you will make a wonderful mother,” he said softly.
She turned around and smiled up at him. “Thank you, Burt, it means a lot.”
“My turn!” Audrey exclaimed, pushing Burt out of the way and enveloping Mia in a bear hug. “We are going to have to baby-proof your abode and shop for maternity clothes. I found some maternity cargos online.”
“Over Ralph’s dead body,” Mia joked. She looked at Audrey and angled her head. “You look different. You didn’t?”
“I did.”
“And?”
“It was climactic.”
“Really? The first time?” Mia asked skeptically.
“Oh, it wasn’t the first time. It was the second and the third, and I’m worried I’m a bit bowlegged.”
This brought a shrill of giggles from both of them. The men looked over curious. Mia took Audrey’s hand and walked further away. “Remember, Cid’s got those good ears.”
“What about Murphy?” Audrey asked, looking around.
“Oh, he’s with the axis of dick over there,” Mia said, quoting Julia Louis-Dreyfus’s character on Veep.
“Matt was very nervous at first but tender and caring. I shouldn’t be t
elling you this, but he was every bit as good as Burt, and we know how good that is.”
“Yes, we do have that in common. I guess every girl needs a Burt in their life and then move on. I see by your eyes that you have.”
“Oh, I didn’t think of him until I was running late this morning, and that was more of a boss, employee thing. I feel so free.”
“So is this a short term thing?” Mia asked.
“We’re taking it one date at a time,” Audrey said.
“Alan and Doc Walters are going to be put out.”
“Who?” Audrey asked mischievously.
Mia raised an eyebrow. She wasn’t used to having a friend, let alone sharing confidences like this. She decided to change the subject. “Why does my husband look like he’s been rolling in the mud?”
“Come, you won’t believe what Cid and John Wheaton found this afternoon.”
Audrey led Mia to the garage. Mia walked around to the side and stared down at the partially excavated stairway and foundation of the building. She could see the top half of a bricked-up doorway. She also felt a presence inside. It could be Arnaud Dufour, but the vibe seemed too negative. Whatever was in there wasn’t happy to be disturbed. Mia drew Audrey away. “We need to stop this excavation. And I need to find Murphy,” she said, turning heel and running towards the group of men.
Audrey backed away from the garage and ran after Mia.
“You’ve got to stop digging,” Mia said, reaching the men. She was breathless but managed to continue. “There is something very negative in there. I fear you’ve woken it.” She turned around as Audrey caught up with them. “Was there anyone else that went missing that night?”
“No one single and available.”
“Married?” Mia asked and added, “Female?”
“I’ll check my notes,” Audrey said, leaving the group.
“Murphy, I want you to maintain a watch on the garage. At a distance. This feeling I am getting is very dark. Not demonic but damn near close. Hatred, possessive hatred. It could be dangerous for the Wheatons. This kind of spirit would not think twice about possession,” she warned. “Folks, if you have them, it’s time to put on your silver crosses. If not, I know someone that can supply them.”
“Are you perhaps overreacting?” Burt asked.
Mia glared at him first and then softened her expression. “What’s down under that building is evil. We need information if we’re going to be able to deal with it. I suggest rolling that car out of the garage and removing anything that it can draw energy from. It’s the same feeling I got at the Gruber Mansion when we opened the space inside the garden wall.”
Burt nodded and said, “I’m sorry for questioning you, but…”
“It’s your job. I understand. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to find a discrete place to puke.”
Mike was on the phone when Mia got back from using the Wheaton’s downstairs powder room.
“It’s great to hear your voice, Father Alessandro. We’ve got a situation here, I wonder if you could advise us on? I’ll pay for… Well, that’s nice of him. Sure, we’ll be looking for you soon. The address is…”
Mia walked over to Audrey who had her head down as she flipped through her notes. Mia sat down beside her, asking, “Can I be of some help?”
“Sure, take a look through those stacks of copies of the gossip columns and see if any of these people show up.” She handed Mia a list of invited guests.
“Where did you get this?”
“If someone saved it, it ends up at the history museum or the local historical society. I think this was the original doorman’s list. Look at the copperplate. Imagine, years from now, someone finding my sweet sixteen party invite and pondering the life of Audrey McCarthy.”
“You’ll be infamous. They’ll only have to read your autobiography for further information.”
This brought on a giggle from the researcher.
Mia read the list and began her search.
“What do you mean my family is in danger?” John asked. “I thought you told me that the ghosts in the house were of the nonviolent variety?”
“The entities inside, yes. But our sensitive is picking up vibes from under the garage. We may have woken up something better left buried,” Burt admitted.
“No, I have to take credit for that blunder. If I wasn’t so hell-bent on excavating the side of the garage…”
“How were you or we to know? Things happen when an old home is renovated. Sometimes you find bad plumbing, knob and tube wiring or asbestos. In your case, it’s spirits. Something happened the night of the ball. That is why the house is showing you the scene over and over again. Your house is trying to protect your family,” Burt emphasized.
“You’re talking about the house as if it’s a living thing,” John said, rubbing his arms. “Is it?”
Burt’s recent trip to a sentient inn was fresh in his mind, but he still had to be careful. He didn’t know for sure that the Wheaton’s French Revival modified home was sentient. He did, however, have a sensitive that could shed light on the subject.
“Mia, could you come over here please?” he called.
Mia put a soda can on the stack of papers she was reading. Audrey quickly removed the potential hazard to the antique papers and placed a book on top.
Mia got up and walked over. “Hello, John, how are you today?” she asked, looking him over for possible ghost overlays.
“I’m confused. Burt just told me that the house is protecting my family. That’s why the ballroom scene is repeated over and over again.”
“I would have to agree with Burt,” Mia said nodding.
“Can a building be sentient?”
“Oh, you’re worried about Rose Red type of sentient, aren’t you?”
“You have to admit King had to get the information from somewhere,” John said.
“He’s a very talented fiction writer,” Mia said. “I think your house is benevolent. It wanted you and your wife to have it. Why else would you have been invited in? It’s not that the brick will move or the walls will change to accommodate you, but it will do it’s best to keep the rain and cold out. It will protect you from the wind, and in rare cases it might tell you a story. Giving us clues of what’s what. I think you were meant to find the room under the garage but not until you solved the mystery. Arnaud Dufour is a big part of the mystery. Unfortunately for poor Arnaud, he doesn’t remember what happened to him. He can’t help us beyond the waltz. Something happened during that dance.”
“We all saw it. Perhaps we could pool our observations,” John suggested.
“There’s film of it, very faint images, but perhaps if we look at it. It may help us to remember what we saw,” Burt proposed.
“I’m in agreement with Burt. John, gather your family and meet us in the trailer. It will be close quarters, but if we view it in shifts, I think it’ll work.”
“How about in the house? I’ve got an old screen used for showing super eights. Couldn’t your husband project the images on it?”
“If he has the projector with him,” Burt said. “I’ll go and check. Mia, I suggest you gather supplies.”
He didn’t have to list the boxes of salt that would be needed to put the viewers in a safe circle. Mia hoped that Mindy wouldn’t mind salt on her newly varnished floor. Mia stopped by the table and informed Audrey of the plan.
“I’ll keep looking until showtime,” she told Mia. “I think that John is on to something, and I too have picked up a tidbit of gossip. I just need confirmation by another source.”
“We’re not the Tribune,” Mia reminded the researcher.
“Yes, but we do need to be accurate.”
Mia nodded and waited until the trailer had cleared of extra bodies before she squeezed by her husband to find the needed salt boxes.
“I suggest you change into some PEEPs sweats, Pigpen,” she said. “Mindy’s not going to think too kindly of us putting salt and mud on her clean floors.”
&nb
sp; “I loves it when you’re all naggy,” Ted said as he reached around and caught Mia. He pulled her close to him. “I am so happy with your news. I would also have been happy if it was a pink ball in that mitt.”
“I know,” she said and kissed him tenderly. “You’re the very best thing that ever happened to me. I’ll try not to be too naggy - is that a word?”
“It isn’t,” Cid said, climbing into the trailer. “I looked at the screen, and I think we’ll need the orange adapter for the projector. You know, the one you stole off of…”
“Shush,” Ted warned. “Mia doesn’t need to know about that. She may be brought into court.”
“I believe, in this state, a wife can’t testify against her husband. I think… I hope… Damn, I better not know. I don’t want to have this kid in the slammer.”
“Thought of a name yet? Cid Stephen sounds about right to me,” Cid said, looping his fingers around imaginary suspenders.
“We haven’t even told Ted’s parents yet. We’re waiting for Mia to have tangible proof first.”
“Pee on a stick, will yah,” Cid suggested. “I’m already planning a nursery and…”
CRACK!
“Sorry, Murphy and I are already planning the nursery.”
“Can’t afford it, dude,” Ted reminded him.
“Murphy can, according to Mike.”
‘Whoa, wait a minute. Murphy’s a ghost, and I doubt he has a 401K to draw from,” Ted reasoned.
Cid smiled. “I’d like to tell you more, but until Mike…”
“How’s Mike involved?” Ted interrupted.
Mia decided to let the two friends hash it out. She would listen as she gathered the necessary protection devices.
“It’s going to be a surprise, so stop trying to wheedle out information,” Cid said and crossed his arms.
“Stephen Cid,” a gruff voice announced beside Mia, making her jump and drop the salt boxes she was holding.
“Bloody hell, Murph!”
“Stephen Cid Theodore Martin,” he said. “Most important first.”
“Oh, you’re more important than the sperm donor?” Mia lifted an eyebrow.
Murphy blushed and said, “Bad Mia,” before fading away.
