by Alexie Aaron
Images of a Spartan home, of a young husband working hard in the yard, hand washed clothes being pinned to a line and candlelit evenings hunched over a piece of needlework. This dissolved into a grand party, losing track of her mate and being courted by a tall elegant man. A progression of whispered secrets, visits in the middle of the night, fornication on the floor of the porch while her husband slept, confessions and repercussions ran before Mia’s shut eyes.
The woman keeps running away, begging at the door of the elegant house. Her husband is humiliated again and again as he is called to fetch his wanton wife. An older woman is shaking her head as she sits in a chair outside of her door - anger, hunger, want. This followed by a letter of rejection, a fit, being physically carried and fighting. Must get to the hollow, must get to the hollow! There is a locked door at the top of steps. Pounding, scratching, despair, hunger, ache.
The banging stopped, and Mia was moved out of the machine.
“Thank you, Miss Cooper. You didn’t move an inch. That’s why it didn’t take so long.”
Mia was surprised. “Not long,” she thought, “I just lived another woman’s life in the time it took for the MRI.”
~
Whit was waiting for her when she was brought back from the MRI. Mia was very quiet while the nurses got her settled. He waited until they left the room before approaching her.
“Thank you,” her voice rasped.
“Couldn’t have you and Sherry at the gates at the same time. Saint Peter would have a cat fight on his hands.”
Mia made a weak attempt of a smile.
“Speaking of which, that wasn’t Sherry, was it? Beth said you were screaming, ‘Not Amber.’”
Mia started to shake her head and winced. “No, it wasn’t her. Sherry has her own style and panache. She would never start a fight in the john of a sub shop.”
“Artists do have a higher standard,” Whit agreed. “Do you know who or what it was?”
Mia’s eyes flooded with tears. Whit moved to the bed and eased himself beside her, taking her in his arms. “It’s okay, Mia. You don’t have to say,” he whispered into her ear.
She cried silent tears, and when she needed to blow her nose, Whit had the scratchy hospital tissues in hand. Whit took another tissue and wiped her eyes. She looked at him. “I’m so sorry,” she said, “I’m stronger than this.”
“You’ve been through a lot in the last week.”
“So have you. I sit here bawling, and you’re then one...”
“Hush, let me be the strong one for a while. Remember I wear the badge, and you’re just a civilian. So, let me be John Wayne and you...” he struggled, trying to put her in a category and ended up with, “Kim Novak.”
“That’s an interesting combo. I don’t think they ever... never mind,” Mia dropped the comparison. “When Amber grabbed my neck, whoever was in her, her memories seemed to flood into my brain. It stunned me at the vividness of the thoughts. I struggled to hang on to reality. I kept slipping deeper and deeper into the abyss that was her soul. No, it wasn’t Sherry. It was Murphy’s wife Chastity.”
Whit flinched. “I don’t understand.”
Mia related all she had sorted out during the MRI. Whit’s grip on her tightened.
“So, Murphy’s place and the hollow are connected.”
“I think so. I think Murphy’s wife was seduced by the same monster that may have destroyed Sherry. I don’t think either woman had any control over the situation.”
“What happened in the end to Murphy’s wife?” Whit asked.
“She went crazy. They brought in an older relative to watch her. The old woman ended up locking Chastity in the cellar. Chastity tried to claw her way out.”
“Did Murphy kill her?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes the dead don’t know how they died. Sometimes they relive it over and over. This thing, Chastity, just festered in that cellar - maybe coming out from time to time to wait for her lover. And when the houses were renovated, I think something woke up her lover, and he came for Chastity.”
“So how did Amber get involved?” Whit asked.
“I don’t know, but I warned them. I told them to leave the hollow alone. I told him to leave town!” Mia pounded the bed beside her in anger. “No one ever listens to me, Whit.”
“I know, ain’t that a bitch,” Whit said, trying for a John Wayne impersonation.
Mia snorted and laughed as Whit proceeded to go through his entire repertoire of impersonations, putting the word “bitch” into the unlikely mouths of Jimmy Stewart and Henry Fonda.
~
Tom studied the faces in front of him in disbelief. The cockamamie story they were telling him was punctuated by them wanting to show him film.
“Since your team has been in town, we have had two suspicious deaths and a deadly assault. Fortunately, Ms. Cooper survived. I’m not letting Amber out of that jail cell anytime soon. So take your group back to the B&B, and no leaving town until I say so,” he ordered.
“What if Mia doesn’t press charges?” Burt asked.
“I can still hold Amber on the damages caused to Sam’s. And by the way, Sam says any previous arrangement you had with him is null and void.”
“But she’s frightened,” Mike said, bringing the focus back to Amber.
“Last time I looked in on her, she was asking if there were reporters outside and if I could I get her a mirror. That ‘frightened’ girl is all an act,” Tom spat.
Ted looked at Tom and nodded in agreement. It was strange that by the time they had arrived, Amber was fine and had the audacity to insist on eating the sub she ordered before talking to the deputies.
Mike sat there trying to work an angle in which PEEPs would come out looking like the victims. Maybe Mia was attacking Amber? After all she had the “crazy” rep in this town already. “I think you’re not taking into account that there were two participants to the fight. Amber...”
“Choked Mia unconscious and was battering her head into the floor when I arrived,” Beth said acidly. “If it weren’t for me and the quick actions of Deputy Martin, Mia Cooper would be dead.”
Mike shot a look of pure hatred at Beth.
“Leave her in jail. We’ll sort everything out tomorrow.” Beth got up and pulled Ted along with her.
“Excuse me, Beth, and this goes for all of you. No one, I repeat, no one is to come within fifty feet of Mia Cooper or her residence for that matter. There will be no bullying her not to press charges. Am I understood?” Tom waited until he had a response from each one of the team before letting them leave the building.
~
Whit had left Mia to make and return a few phone calls. She relaxed and tried not to stare at the nurse hovering near her. She was a nun in her fifties. Her hands were ineffectual as she tried to straighten Mia’s bedding. They kept moving through the bed. She continued oblivious of this fact.
“You don’t have to do this,” Mia whispered, aware of the closeness of the nurse’s station. “I’m okay.”
The nun reached forward and put a hand on Mia’s forehead. Expecting the same tickle that she got from Murphy, she was pleasantly surprised by the warmth that flowed out of this angel of mercy.
The warmth chased away her worries, her aloneness, and put in their place a feeling of love and kindness.
Mia smiled, and the nun nodded before disappearing.
“Well, it’s a small world,” Doctor Walters said as he walked into the room. “Last we met, you were shepherding a couple of nut jobs with nitrogen burns. Tonight, you almost get killed in a cat fight in the bathroom of Sam’s Subs. You have to start hanging around a different set of people, Miss Cooper.”
He set her chart on the bed and proceeded to examine her, paying particular attention to her bruised and battered skull.
“You know you have a very unusual frontal lobe and a very thick skull.”
“You really know how to flatter a girl.”
“That’s just one of my wonderful tale
nts.” The doctor unwrapped the collar and studied the bruising on her neck. “Your vertebrae in your neck are fine. However you are going to experience a lot of pain as the swelling sets in. We’re going to put you on some intravenous meds as you’re not going to want to swallow any pills for a while.”
“Bummer.”
“Consider yourself lucky. I’m on duty all night, and you can gaze upon my visage anytime you want. You just have to call,” he said, putting the call button in her hand. “Now where are my nurses...” he mumbled, heading for the nursing station.
Two very efficient scrub-clad women had Mia hooked up and on the way to la la land in just a few minutes. Whit arrived back to see Mia’s eyes droop.
“Hey druggie, how’re ya doing?” Whit said, looking down at her.
“They tell me that I’m going to live another day or at least through the night, dude.”
“That’s duke, John Wayne was the duke,” Whit corrected.
“Sorry, about this...” Mia said, her eyes drooping again.
Whit pulled up a chair, propped up his feet at the end of her bed and followed her into dreamland.
~
Burt sat on the edge of his bed. He couldn’t believe the situation PEEPs was in. Mike tried to spin it as good publicity, but he couldn’t agree with him. He never pictured his group as being tabloid fodder. So far he managed to dissuade Mike from calling the papers himself. He stressed the point that they still had the chance of filming an actual apparition if they were patient.
Mia’s eyes assaulted him as he tried to close his. He knew that any chance he had in securing their relationship was gone. She assumed it was his fault. That wasn’t fair, considering Amber was supposed to be with Mike at the time. Maybe down the road a friendship could be established, but the trust was gone. She asked for his help. He suspected after their argument that Whitney stepped up to the plate, but it should have been him. “Hell, I told her I wasn’t...” he said aloud and let it go.
What about April? Were they going to leave her with a busted up basement and a murderous ghost on the premises? And where the hell was Murphy?
~
Murphy nosed around the opening of the cellar. He dared not go down into the depths of the house. He promised his mother that he would just leave Chastity alone. The sun was pushing at the horizon when he stopped his vigil and walked back to the barn.
Chapter Thirty-two
Mia squinted as the sun snaked around the partially closed blinds and bathed her face with light. Her room was empty with the exception of two large feet propped on the end of her bed. She followed the stained tube socks down to crumpled jeans, a torn shirt. “Did I do that?” she asked herself while her eyes rested on Whit’s sleeping form.
Her bladder was uncomfortably full due to the push of the IV fluids last night. Mia pushed the call button and awaited the arrival of a nurse.
“Yes?” a perky voice asked over the intercom.
“May I use the bathroom, please?”
“Please wait for assistance.”
“Okay.” Mia wanted to add “over,” it just seemed the right thing to say. I want to pee, over. Wait for the nurse, over. She actually started to smile in spite of herself.
“Whatcha doing?” Whit’s sleepy voice drew her attention.
“Just thinking of something funny.”
“Want to share?”
“Nope, private joke. How are you doing?” She watched as he lowered his legs and tried to get some feeling back into them before putting on his shoes.
“A bit stiff.”
“Now there will be none of that nonsense on my watch,” teased a pleasant woman dragging a Sphygmomanometer behind her. “First pee. Then I need to get your vitals.” She helped Mia to swing her feet over and held a protective arm on her while she tested her stance. “Are you dizzy?”
“A bit.” Mia stood there until the room settled down. “Okay, better now.”
“It’s the drugs. I think once they back off the dosage, you will regain your land legs.”
“Thank you...” Mia stared at the woman’s name tag.
“Mary Margaret, but the kids call me M&Ms,” she said, leading Mia to the bathroom.
Whit stepped out to give Mia and M&Ms privacy. He smelled coffee and followed his nose to the nurses’ station where the busy nurses just pointed to the pot and told him to help himself. He poured himself a cup and got out of their way. He walked down the hall to a small waiting area and stood staring out of the window, watching the sunrise. Today was Tuesday. He had to leave tomorrow to escort his wife’s body to New Jersey. He had things to do today but was hesitant to leave Mia.
He questioned himself about this feeling of obligation towards her. It could be transference. He wasn’t able to save Sherry so he would save Mia. “Now that’s screwed up,” he admitted aloud.
~
The bedside phone rang, and Whit answered it. “Good to talk to you too, sir. Here’s Mia.” He handed the phone to her. “It’s your father.”
Mia mouthed, “What the ef,” before picking up the receiver. “Hello.”
Charles Cooper wasn’t a man to waste words. “Whit called me and your mother and told us about your situation. How are you?”
“Unharmed with the exception of a few bruises.”
“Good. He also expressed concern that, since he was going to be out of town for a few days, you would be alone and defenseless.”
“I don’t...”
“Your mother is in the middle of her paper on the black impact on the Miccosukee tribes so she can’t come up there. I have class so we have arranged for you to stay in our apartment in Chicago. I have already alerted the super. His wife is getting things ready for you. She will check in on you from time to time. Don’t worry about the bother as we are paying her.”
“But Father...”
“It’s all arranged. Call me when you get there.” He hung up.
Mia held on to the phone and looked at Whit who stood all puffed out, ready to defend his decision.
“You called my father?”
“Yes, they’re going to release you tonight. I leave tomorrow morning. I can’t leave you at your home alone or anywhere near the hollow. I thought I could put you on a plane for Florida but...”
Mia put her hand up. “Okay, I give up.” She could see the concern in his eyes. A few days in Chicago wasn’t going to kill her. Maybe it would be a good place to read the journals, far from the hollow. “Can I bring the box?”
“Yes, I already thought about that. Two great minds...”
“Almost make one normal one together,” Tom’s voice preceded him from the hallway. He walked straight over to Mia and handed her a piece of paper. “Sign it.”
“What, no flowers?” Mia pouted and started to read the document. Her eyes snapped up. “You want me to press charges?”
“Amber tried to kill you. Technically she did before Moses here brought you back.”
“I think you have your biblical references wrong,” Whit said.
Mia noticed the nun in the corner was in agreement.
“I can’t do this. She wasn’t right in the head.” Mia handed the paper back.
“She’s dangerous. I don’t want her killing someone else.” Tom refused to take the paper.
“Couldn’t we just send her away, back to Kansas?” Mia asked.
“I can suggest strongly, but I can’t make Amber or any of them leave.”
“If I sign this, what happens?”
“She stays in custody until the judge hears the complaint next Monday.”
“She’ll stay behind bars where?”
“In town.”
“So she wouldn’t be dumped in a prison somewhere...”
“Oh no. Amber will never be alone with another person,” Tom promised.
“Whit?” Mia looked at him. He nodded. “Give me a pen.”
Tom was gob-smacked. He thought he would have to wear down Mia’s resistance to get her to sign.
“
This will give me time sort this out. Maybe I can find a way to save Amber. She really wasn’t herself, Tom.”
Tom didn’t pay too much attention to what Mia was saying. He was still in shock over her pressing charges.
~
“I don’t fucking believe this!” Mike tossed his phone on the bed and watched it do a one-hop onto the floor. He stormed out of his room and yelled down the hall, “Burt, get in here.”
Burt stuck his head out the door. Even though he was bristling at being called like a dog, he calmly walked out of his room and down the hall.
“What’s the emergency?” Burt asked to an empty room.
Mike’s head popped up on the other side of the bed. “Dropped my phone,” he explained. “You’re not going to believe this. Mia is pressing charges against Amber.”
Burt was surprised. “But Mia knows it wasn’t Amber. I’ll talk to her.”
“We can’t. Remember we’ve been warned,” Mike said sarcastically.
“We can’t be physically near her, but what about a phone call?”
“There’s that. You try to talk some sense into her, and I’ll call Amber’s agent.”
“What about her father?”
“He’s one and the same.” Mike lifted his eyebrows.
“Have you had a chance to talk to April yet?” Burt asked.
“The broad left town. Gone to stay with relatives. She left her keys with Beth and said, ‘Do what you have to do, just rid the place of the ghosts.’”
“Do we have that in writing?” Burt asked worried.
“I had her sign an empty form when she was distracted. We can type out whatever we want.”
“That’s illegal.”
“That’s business,” Mike said. “Now get out, I got stuff to do.”
