Fort Morgan

by Christian, Claudia Hall

  “Good,” Delphie said. “We’re just getting down to Mitzi.”

  “She hates that name,” Mitch said.

  “Yes,” Delphie said with a nod. “Unfortunately, it’s her birth name. Until she chooses to change it, her name will remain ‘Mitzi.’”

  “Can you do that?” Mitch asked.

  “Yes, but that’s for another time,” Delphie said. “You want to know about Mitzi.”

  Mitch nodded. Delphie created an intricate design with the Tarot cards. When she finished, she touched one card and then another.

  “I didn’t see that,” Delphie said in a soft tone. She stared off in the distance for a moment before dealing more cards.

  “What’s going on?” Mitch asked.

  “It’s complicated,” Delphie said. “I knew I was necessary here, but. . . Well I just didn’t see it before.”

  “See what?” Mitch asked.

  “You and I,” Delphie said. “We. . . I’m supposed to be here. I’m supposed to tell you what you want to know.”

  “What?” Seth asked.

  “It is fated,” Delphie said.

  “What is?” Seth asked.

  “This interaction,” Delphie said. “My being here. Your request for me to come. My conversation with Mitch.”

  Delphie nodded.

  “You are intuitive,” Delphie said to Mitch with a nod.

  “I’m what?” Mitch asked.

  “You knew that Mitzi needed our help for her life to work out as it should,” Delphie said.

  Mitch gave her an uncertain look.

  “What are you saying?” Seth asked.

  “We need to get to work,” Delphie said. “There’s a lot to do.”

  Seth and Mitch looked at each other. Mitch shrugged.

  “I wonder if you could go slowly,” Seth said. “Talk to us like we’re idiots.”

  Delphie grinned.

  “It’s not hard to pretend that we’re idiots,” Seth said. “I know.”

  “What are you saying?” Mitch asked.

  “For most people, they are born in the right place,” Delphie said. “All of the pieces of their lives are near them or in relatively close vicinity. The people you should meet live in your town or are drawn to you from other towns. Maybe you have to move to another city, but everything is close. The work you should do comes into your life when you’re ready. All of the pieces of your life are scattered like seeds to grow into something when you are ready.”

  “And Sissy?” Mitch asked.

  “The pieces which make up her life are. . . sprinkled. . . everywhere,” Delphie said.

  “Sprinkled?” Seth asked.

  “Around the world,” Delphie said. She balled her fist with her fingertips near her mouth. She blew on her fingertips and unfolded her hand. “We need to bring the pieces together.”

  “Pieces?” Mitch asked.

  “Like furniture?” Seth asked.

  “People,” Delphie said. “We need to find her soulmate and bring him here. Together, they will draw everything she needs to them.”

  “And apart?” Mitch asked.

  Delphie shook her head.

  “What does that mean?” Seth shook his head in imitation of Delphie’s gesture.

  “He will not last the year,” Delphie said.

  “And Sissy?” Mitch asked.

  “She will die early,” Delphie said. “Starve to death.”

  “Starve?” Mitch’s voice rose with fear.

  “What do you mean?” Seth asked.

  Delphie looked off into the near distance for a moment. She scowled.

  “Illness, I think,” Delphie said. “There is a man. . .”

  “Sissy’s soul mate?” Mitch asked.

  “No, another man,” Delphie said. “He will become Sandy’s partner. He is integral in Mitzi and Charlie’s life. Charlie more than Mitzi but Charlie for Mitzi.”

  Delphie looked up at the men and nodded.

  “What?” Mitch asked.

  “She’s saying that Sandy’s partner will be important to Charlie,” Seth said. “By taking care of Charlie, Sissy will be relieved of the burden of her brother.”

  Mitch nodded that he understood.

  “Is that right?” Seth asked.

  “Yes,” Delphie said. “We need to pull in this man so that, when Sandy’s ready, he will be as well. He will be the love of Sandy’s life. He will also serve as a surrogate father to Charlie when Charlie needs him. By caring for Charlie, strengthening him, Mitzi will be able to thrive.”

  She looked from Mitch to Seth.

  “We have work to do,” Delphie said.

  Chapter Three Hundred and Fifty-three

  About that

  Tuesday morning — 5:11 a.m.

  “Yes, you should!” Sandy said in a fierce whisper to Abi.

  “You don’t think we should wait for Delphie?” Abi whispered back.

  They were sitting on the couch in Sissy’s hospital room. Sandy had waited until Sissy had fallen asleep and Delphie had left for Bestat’s to ask Abi about Aden.

  “Would you want to know?” Sandy asked.

  “I really shouldn’t,” Abi said.

  “You really should!” Sandy said.

  Abi scowled.

  “Then just tell me!” Sandy said. “What did they do to Aden?”

  “I see when you see it,” Abi said.

  “Oh,” Sandy said with her best pleading look.

  “Fine,” Abi said.

  “You want to know,” Sandy said.

  “You’re right,” Abi said. “I want to know. And, I think you, of all people, should know.”

  ~~~~~~~~

  Delphie was sitting in the passenger seat of an old silver diesel Mercedes Benz. The driver was a beautiful woman with short, sandy blonde hair and a decisive attitude. She had intelligent eyes and an easy smile. She smiled at Delphie.

  “Don’t be a baby,” the driver said.

  “I’m not being a baby, Celia,” Delphie said.

  “You’re mad because Seth caught you in his web,” Celia said with a grin. “You don’t think he’s handsome and totally doable?”

  “Celia!” Delphie blushed.

  “That’s not a denial!” Celia said with a chuckle.

  The two women were clearly best friends. Delphie shook her head.

  “He always has some young thing,” Delphie said.

  “No, he doesn’t,” Celia said. “And you know it. He’s destroyed by the loss of Bonita and his sons.”

  Delphie scowled and looked out the window. They were driving down Colfax Boulevard in the middle of the day.

  “So you’re honestly telling me that you didn’t feel a connection with O’Malley,” Celia said.

  “I felt a connection,” Delphie grudgingly said. “I still don’t. . .”

  “Like him,” Celia finished Delphie’s statement. “Yes, I see that.”

  “I had this feeling. . .” Delphie sighed and turned to look at Celia. “It was like Seth and I had done this exact thing over and over and over again throughout the millennia.”

  “Ooh, past lives!” Celia said with a nod.

  Celia smiled at Delphie. The bright Colorado sun white-washed the store fronts and boarded up buildings. They drove in silence for a few moments.

  “What do I have to do?” Celia asked.

  “You’ve wanted to start a school for your employees’ kids,” Delphie said.

  “There’s nothing more important than early education,” Celia started a familiar rant. “Our employees care deeply about their children but simply don’t have the resources to give them what they need. If we want to change the world, we need to focus on educating children — the earlier, the better.”

  “Now’s your chance,” Delphie said.

  “When would I have time?” Celia asked. “Jake’s just started East High, and Val’s at UCLA. With the business and Sam, my hands are full.”

  “You’ve talked about doing it for years,” Delphie said. “Unfinished p
lans are the devil’s playground. You need to complete the things you plan, or. . .”

  “Yes, father,” Celia said, and Delphie grinned.

  “You’ll find the time,” Delphie said. “You always do.”

  They fell silent and continued driving. Delphie leaned forward and pushed the tape into the tape player. Subtle jazz came out of the speakers. Delphie sneered and turned off the tape.

  “Jazz,” she said, with a sneer under her breath.

  When Celia grinned, Delphie realized that Celia had set the tape there to annoy Delphie. Shaking her head, Delphie looked out her passenger window.

  “You didn’t answer the question,” Celia said.

  “Which question?” Delphie asked.

  “What do I have to do?” Celia asked.

  “Turn here,” Delphie said.

  “Here?” Celia asked.

  “Here,” Delphie said empathically. “You have to turn here!”

  “You could have given me. . .”

  Celia made a quick turn onto a narrow side street. The street was lined with cars parked on either side. Celia had to slow down to inch her way forward.

  “Yes, but I wasn’t sure,” Delphie said.

  “You said it was near the site,” Celia said. “The site is. . .”

  “Yes,” Delphie said. “He didn’t want to get caught with the kids. He had to park away from the site.”

  “What?” Celia asked at the same moment Delphie said, “Stop right here!”

  Delphie pointed to a beaten sedan, but Celia didn’t stop soon enough. Delphie turned in her seat.

  “It’s right there!” Delphie said.

  “I looked into him after you called,” Celia said. “Jerry says he does good work, and he’s smart, but the boy hasn’t kept a job for any amount of time. He smells as if he hasn’t showered in a while, and he has two kids! If he was anywhere near Val, Sam would drive him off with a pitch fork. And you think this drug addict is going to be precious Sandy’s one and only?”

  “He won’t be if we don’t intervene!” Delphie said and jumped out of the car.

  Celia watched Delphie trot down the street. For a brief moment, Celia looked at herself in the mirror. She’d gone along with a lot of Delphie’s crazy schemes, but this seemed like the most complicated and ridiculous plan. In the rearview mirror, she saw Delphie, with her hands on each side of her head, peer into the back seat of the car.

  “Either do it or don’t do it,” Celia said to herself. “Don’t linger in the middle.”

  With a nod to herself, Celia drove a half a block and parked the car. She jogged back to where Delphie was trying to get into the car.

  “The kids are in here!” Delphie said.

  “Kids!?” Celia’s voice rose with concern. “There are children in there?”

  “Your employees don’t have places to leave their kids,” Delphie said in even tones.

  Celia gave Delphie a wry look.

  “I can’t get in!” Delphie said with a tug on the door. “You have to do that thing you do with doors!”

  Celia sighed. She might not have full-blown psychokinetic skills, but she and her then-boyfriend Sam had spent years perfecting her ability to get into old cars. She reached out with her mind. Focusing all of her energy and attention, she visualized the lock. One forced-out breath, and the passenger door lock popped up. Before Delphie could open the door, a tiny hand reached from the back seat to push the button down.

  “What was that?” Celia asked.

  “There’s a little boy in the back seat,” Delphie said. “He was told to keep the car locked. He’s very frightened but is more terrified of having to go back to his mother. He’s trying to keep his sister quiet so they don’t have to live with their mom.”

  Celia scowled.

  “You’re sure this is the guy?” Celia asked.

  “He’s an idiot,” Delphie said. “Even if he’s not, these kids need our help, and you need to start your school. That’s your destiny, and you know it.”

  “I. . .” Celia opened her mouth. “What?”

  “Listen, this kid loves Coca-Cola,” Delphie said. “I’m going to get a soda from the corner to bribe him to open the door. You keep working on him.”

  Delphie gave Celia a nod before turning in place and walking down the sidewalk. Celia squinted after her friend. Delphie hated going into new places, especially little stores. All of the ghosts rushed forward to talk to her, and she got overwhelmed. There’s no way Delphie would go to a store by herself. Celia was being manipulated. She turned to look at the sedan at the same moment the little boy was looking at her.

  “Go away,” the boy said.

  That was enough for Celia to fall completely in love with the little boy.

  “No,” Celia said. “I’m not going away. Not now, and not for a long, long time.”

  The boy’s face was almost entirely blue eyes. They blinked at her.

  “Will you open the door for me?” Celia asked in a tone that would encourage him to do what she asked. “I’m here to help.”

  The little boy just blinked at her. Celia sighed and unlocked the door again. The little boy pressed the button down.

  “Why, hello,” a man’s voice came from the sidewalk. Celia turned to see her husband Sam. “What’s a gorgeous lady like you doing here?”

  “I’m trying to get these kids out of the car!” Celia said. “One of our employees left them here because he didn’t have anywhere else to bring them.”

  “Horrible,” Sam said. He leaned over to look at the boy, who blinked at him. “You tried. . .?”

  Celia unlocked the car door causing the locking nob to shoot up. The little boy pressed it down.

  “I see,” Sam said with a laugh.

  “What are you doing here?” Celia asked.

  “Delphie told me you needed my help,” Sam said and pointed toward the work site.

  “She told me she was going for soda,” Celia said.

  They had both been manipulated.

  “So what do we do?” Celia asked.

  “Simple,” Sam said.

  He raised his eyebrows in a confident “I’ve got this” and took a candy bar from his pocket. He pressed it against the window. The lock shot up, and the door opened a little bit.

  “Nash?” Sam asked. He held the candy bar out to the little boy. “This is my wife, Celia. She’d like to help your sister.”

  The boy grabbed the bar and began stuffing it down.

  “She won’t stop crying today, Mr. Sam,” the little boy said with his mouth full of chocolate.

  “Mr. Sam?” Celia asked.

  Sam nodded to Celia.

  “Why don’t we let Ms. Celia help?” Sam said. The boy looked at Celia for a minute. “She’s really good with kids. I even let her raise mine.”

  The boy looked at Celia for a long minute before he nodded. The boy held up his arms, and Sam lifted him from the car. Celia climbed in the back seat, where the little girl was strapped to a car seat. She unhooked the child and passed her to Sam. The little boy was sitting on the hood of the car, and the daughter was snuggling in Celia’s arms when they heard footsteps.

  “Hey!” A young man raced down the sidewalk. “Those are my kids!”

  ~~~~~~~~

  Tuesday morning — 10:17 a.m.

  “You want to know about me and the gulag?” Ivan looked genuinely surprised.

  Sissy nodded.

  “Sissy wanted to know how you became her dance teacher,” Sandy said. “Delphie shared her experience with my dad and Seth.”

  Even though Delphie was having breakfast with Seth and his new wife, Ava, Sandy gestured to where Delphie usually sat. Ivan nodded and glanced at Abi, who was standing next to Sissy. She smiled.

  “I wish I had been here,” he said. “I don’t know how that happened.”

  “We haven’t gotten to the details yet,” Sandy said with a conspiratorial nod. “But I’m sure we’ll pry it out of Delphie soon. Would you like to be here when we do?�
�

  “Oh. . .” Ivan gave a little shrug. “It doesn’t matter so much.”

  He glanced at Sissy.

  “Maybe when you are well, you can tell me the whole story,” Ivan said.

  Sissy smiled and nodded. She groaned at the pain caused by her actions.

  “Can you tell us about the gulag and getting rescued by Seth?” Sandy asked.

  “I can tell you what I know,” Ivan said with a shrug. “I don’t know everything, but I know what I know.”

  Sandy nodded.

  “I was ten when Soviet Union started to dissolve,” Ivan said. “My mother and father were born in Lithuania but moved to St. Petersburg so that I could dance. With the end of communism, my mother and father went home to a free Lithuania, leaving my sister and me in St. Petersburg with my mother’s aunt.”

  “What was she like?” Sandy asked.

  “I have no idea,” Ivan snorted a laugh. “I only cared about ballet. My whole world was in ballet and my sister in her schooling. We rotated in and around my aunt’s house. She kept us fed and clothed, and she made sure we met the right people.”

  Ivan shrugged.

  “Democratic Russia was formed when I was sixteen,” Ivan said. “I was already signed at the Bolshoi. My sister was in the best private school. We spent summers with our parents, who were so happy. But. . .”

  Ivan nodded.

  “The rise of Democracy brought about the rise in the Bratva,” Ivan said. He wagged his head side to side. “Bratva has been around since the days of the tsars. But suddenly, there is not government. Everything is Bratva. The man you call ‘Otis’ was at the center of everything. I knew him from growing up at the Bolshoi.”

  As if he’d told them something significant, he nodded.

  “Ballet was everything to me,” Ivan said. “Is everything to me. I didn’t pay attention to anything but ballet. Turns out, my aunt was involved in the Bratva, and soon Otis’s sons had taken over. My aunt was killed. My sister was forced into prostitution, and I became principal danceur and spy.”

  Ivan’s face was etched with pain. He took off his clear light-protecting glasses to rub his eyes. He didn’t speak for a while. Finally, clearing his throat, he nodded.

  “I was twenty-four when it all came apart,” Ivan said. “The government was cracking down on corruption, and the Bolshoi was part of the investigation. My sister died, my mother died, and I was sent to gulag for being Bratva.”