by J. L. Salter
“Good, good.” She was obviously not interested in his curriculum details, but at least Mrs. Gull finally arrived at her point. “Mr. Muir, you’ve lost your glow.”
Whatever she’d seen and interpreted as idealistic glow had most likely been shell shock, but Muir didn’t correct her. He realized which tree she was barking up. “I still love literature, most of the kids are fine, and I really believe I want to keep teaching, Mrs. Gull. But it’s my, uh, personal life that’s kind of in the toilet.”
She held up a hand. “Say no more.” Gull explained she had already guessed it was about his relationship with Lucy and the good principal proceeded to offer well-intentioned but ineffectual bits of motherly advice.
Trying not to cringe, Muir simply nodded. Mercifully, it was a short lecture.
“However, let me also warn you that whatever happens, you two need to keep it off campus. If you were in the same department, I’m afraid I would be at the point of ultimatums.”
“But we’re Science and English — oil and water. Not to mention opposite sides of the facility.”
“True,” she nodded. “But on the same floor, nonetheless.”
Muir wondered whether to volunteer the full story — about mourning the loss of Danielle’s ghost — or just to leave it with Gull’s convoluted spin. Let her keep thinking what she wants to think. “Yes, I’ll keep my personal relationships off campus, Mrs. Gull. And thanks for speaking with me.”
The matronly principal stood abruptly and extended her fleshy hand. “Well, there’s a nice three day weekend ahead, so you can rest up for class on Tuesday.” It seemed a fitting curtain to their odd scene together.
“Thanks.”
Gull looked as proud as a guidance counselor having finally identified a career field for the kid with no aptitude whatsoever.
Thankfully, she’d apparently forgotten about assigning him a mentor.
****
Muir was delighted to see Lucy had waited for him in the parking lot, presumably to provide another warm, comforting embrace. And that was indeed part of her reason. He breathed in the luxurious scent of her hair as he pulled her body into his own.
“What did Gull want with you?” she whispered.
He capsulized the principal’s main thrust. “She’s concerned about me, says I lost my glow, blah blah.”
“Nothing about spooks?”
“Fortunately not.” Muir decided not to mention Gull’s focus on faculty romances.
“I received the Gull speech in about my second or third week, too. She must have it on her calendar for each newbie.”
“Did you get that same spiel?”
“No, we’ve all figured that Gull needs to have a newbie talk so she can check it off her list, and she looks for some hook to hang it on.”
“What was the hook with your first two weeks?”
Lucy looked embarrassed. “It was some minor misunderstanding about a lab experiment.”
“What happened?”
“Let’s just say I quickly learned why none of the gas valves at student desks have handles until you distribute them for specific assignments.”
“Oh,” Muir nodded. “Boom.”
“Right.”
Cradling Lucy’s elbow, Muir led her toward her vehicle. “So you think Gull’s session was not primarily about me moping around this week?”
“Well, I’m sure that was also on her mind. Pretty much everybody’s noticed it.”
“How many colleagues realize it involves a hundred-year-old ghostess?”
“Just you, me and Anna… as far as I know. The rest of the faculty understand you live in a haunted hotel, but they’re probably just thinking it’s traditional stuff like clanking chains that keep you awake.”
“I wish that was the problem. Ear plugs could fix that.”
Lucy unlocked her vehicle door.
“Say, how about some early supper? I feel like I haven’t eaten for days.”
“Maybe you haven’t. I think I can see your ribs.” She pinched his midsection. “Yes, let’s. How about Ethal’s Diner? It’s right on your street and stays open ‘til about seven I think.”
“I’ve never even noticed it. Where?”
“One door west of that little drug store on Magnolia Avenue. The front makes it look like a hole in the wall joint, but inside it’s pretty nice. Vintage decor. Great food. A few studio apartments upstairs. One of our colleagues lives in one, I think.”
“Okay, when?” Muir checked his watch.
“Uh, give me time to get home and veg out for half an hour.” She pulled over his wrist so she could see the time. “How about 5:30?”
“Sounds good, Lucy. You want to swing by my apartment first?”
It was obvious she considered it, but declined. “I’ll just meet you at the diner.” She hugged him again, but quickly, and then got into her vehicle.
Muir waved slowly as she drove away. Something made him want to chase after her. But he wasn’t a school kid anymore.
A bit over an hour later, they were seated against the east wall at Ethal’s Diner. The menus — in cracked and faded plastic sleeves — looked like they’d been individually created on a typewriter rather than printed from a computer. “If the menu hasn’t changed in thirty years, I guess the food must be okay.”
“It is. You’ll like it.” She pointed. “Try their meatloaf.”
The place was moderately busy and the proprietor, presumably Ethal, appeared briefly at each table to check on her customers’ satisfaction.
The meal and dessert peach pie moved along quickly, with rather little conversation. Then, after the waitress cleared their dishes and refilled their iced tea glasses, Lucy plopped a hot topic on the worn table. “I know this has been tough on you, Levi. I still totally think you’re a lot better off now that Danielle’s gone — because the human and spirit worlds should not have that sort of involvement — but I am sorry at how much you’re hurting.” She eyed her glass but did not drink.
“From any way you look at it, the entire experience has been bizarre and unexpected. And I’m aware she manipulated me so I would assist her, in some way she never explained. But I still feel rotten at how I ran her off.”
“I’d like to… uh, if there’s anything you think I could do, I’d like to help you through this.”
He wasn’t sure what she had in mind but felt uncomfortable at the short silence. “Your group makes spirit contacts, or tries to. Could you help me reach Danielle?”
Lucy looked disappointed. Maybe she’d expected a different suggestion. “Didn’t you say she specifically holds back when spirit chasers come knocking?”
He nodded. “Yeah, but she already knows you.”
“Right, from that day we found the painting.” She clutched her glass but did not raise it.
“I hate to ask. I mean, since neither one of you approved of the other being close to me.”
When Lucy’s eyebrows rose dramatically, she started to say something but managed to catch those words before they escaped. She sipped her tea thoughtfully. “Well, even though Danielle knows me — whatever that means — she won’t necessarily allow my contact. I assume you meant me alone, and not any of my group members.”
“Yeah, just you. If Danielle saw the others trooping in, she’d freak.”
“Well, I might freak too.” Her hand shook slightly. “I’ve never before attempted a spirit contact alone.”
“I shouldn’t even ask.” Muir patted her still trembling hand. “I apologize, forget about it.”
“No, I really do want to help, Levi.” She placed her other hand on top of his. “Let me try to speak with her. It may have gotten lost in these past few days while you’ve been so gloomy about your ghostess not visiting, but I really care about you.”
“You do?”
“Don’t act so surprised. We’ve discussed it, both when your mind was clear and when it was controlled by the spook.”
“Yeah, that was freaky the way my brain was somet
imes haywire.”
“Well, how is it now? No recent thought-jamming, or whatever she was doing?”
He shook his head.
“Well, now that your brain jam has been lifted, perhaps you’ll tell me how you feel about me.”
Awkward to be asked. “You don’t already know?”
She gulped. “I think I do, but a girl likes to hear it, just so there’s no extra misunderstanding. That is, more than already exists between…”
Muir cut her off. “Lucy, I think you’re fantastic and I love being with you.” He paused to see how that part had been received. Can’t really tell. “I thought we had a promising start that was derailed by, uh, other parties. And I want to spend more time with you, to get to know you better.”
Lucy looked vaguely disappointed. Perhaps she’d expected more powerful words. She nodded and slowly withdrew her hand. “Okay. I think I understand.”
Muir did not think the subject was closed and actually wanted to tell her more, but it was too difficult, so he returned to their previous topic. “You’d be willing to do this for me? I mean, try to contact Danielle?”
“Yes, but only for you,” she sighed. “Not a habit I want to start — chasing ghosts by myself in haunted hotels.”
“Thanks, Lucy.” Muir searched her face expectantly. “So where do you start?”
“Your apartment, of course.”
“But Danielle’s gone.”
“No she’s not. She’s just hanging back because she’s hurt.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do. It’s a woman thing.”
“But she’s a spirit, supposedly.”
“Women are women, Levi. Females are females.”
Muir closed his eyes to think. “What will you say to her?”
“I think it’s best for me to listen.” Lucy eyed her tea glass. “There’s more to this than just what happened between you and Danielle. You mentioned, in passing, something she’d said about Mr. Fairley witnessing her death.”
Muir nodded. “And that she was only trying to reach her aunt’s house across the river.”
“And she insisted her death was not a result of suicide?”
“Positively. In fact, that’s the big deal I told you about, that she wants me to help correct. Somehow.”
“Still don’t see how, but maybe she’ll tell me.”
Muir remembered Tacket’s admonition not to let two females huddle together to talk about him. “Can I come too?”
“Absolutely not. You’re the reason we’re in this mess. If you hadn’t chased her down like a randy school boy, she’d still be chatting with you each evening in her genteel parlor.”
“What did I do?”
Lucy glared for a moment. “You treated Danielle like any other woman who you thought needed to be conquered.”
“But that was just the dream.”
“Maybe the undressing part was a dream, but evidently the kissing and hugging was real enough. In any case, it probably has her topsy turvy, not knowing what to think. Danielle wasn’t used to your maneuvers. She’s been out of the game for a good while, you know.”
“But I thought we were in lo…”
“Don’t say that word unless you truly know what it means. When it’s tossed around like some men use it, there’s no actual meaning… it’s just a device.” Her expression was a mixture of concern and anger. “It leads to enough trouble in the human world, but when applied to a weird cross-form matchup, it must be horribly disorienting and potentially destructive.”
Muir gulped and considered whether to keep attempting a defense. Not worth it. “When are you going?”
“Now. Give me your key.” She stood and held out her hand. “You wait here.”
He provided the key and took another look around the nearly empty diner. “On second thought, I’ll wait down at the General Lee Bar. I made a new friend down there.”
She looked puzzled, but did not inquire. “If I’m not back in…” Lucy checked the time on her phone. “Oh, never mind.”
Chapter Seventeen
Friday evening
As Lucy approached the gloomy hotel, her brain whirred with all the frightening stories she’d ever heard, about that ancient structure or any other. One hour before that moment, she would have said a third of the tales were fabrications, a third were exaggerations, and likely only a third had sufficient foundation to warrant serious investigation. But as she stood near the Majestic’s bleak entrance, she was suddenly willing to believe 99 percent of those reports were gospel.
Already dark outside, a bright sliver of moon grinned like a lunatic over her shoulder. “This was not the time to be noble and leave the man behind,” she said softly. Some people whistle in the dark, but Lucy decided to chat with herself — partly to keep her teeth from clacking.
Before placing Muir’s master key in the outside door, she looked up at the ominous bird shapes which in daylight seemed merely architectural details, but presently resembled gargoyles and other monstrous forms. “Can’t believe I’m doing this. Especially alone… and without any instruments.” Lucy looked for a way to block open the front door, but couldn’t find anything she could move. “But maybe I won’t need any scientific measurements. The ghostess might just zap me and leave my charred body as evidence for my colleagues to study.”
Lucy mounted the dark stairs one slow and quiet step at a time. “Why don’t they pay the light bill in here?” After counting solemnly to twenty-five, she finally reached halfway up the staircase.
Hearing a sudden creak, she froze and tried to look about without turning her head even a millimeter. “Must be the stairs,” she whispered, as she completed her ascent and approached Muir’s suite. “The crazy thing is, when Anna asked me to join her Sprit-Chasers group, I thought it was just a bunch of church singles who hung out in their fellowship hall.”
No response from any entity in the bleak corridor.
The hall’s heavy shadows looked a lot more threatening than when she’d visited in daytime with Levi.
“I’m sure you’ll be up here, Danielle, because I know you can’t leave these premises until something gets settled.” It was an avocational thrill for Lucy to be certain she was finally about to make direct contact with the spirit realm, but she also worried it would scare her to death. “Of course, I still don’t know what unfinished business you have in Magnolia, but I’m willing to talk about it, if you are.”
No reply.
Pausing at the suite’s doorway, Lucy considered this was not just any ghostess — Danielle Gregg was the same spirit who had controlled Levi’s mind and seemingly captured his heart. She turned the key. “Okay, ready or not, I’m coming in.” She entered the apartment slowly, purposefully leaving the door wide open.
A sudden oppressive chill swept over her. It was dark except for the faint indirect glow from street lights through the windows. She flipped the wall switch, but the chandelier did not come on. Peering into the blackness, Lucy’s heart raced when she spotted the ghostess standing in the shadows at the window facing east. Her insides turned to ice.
“I would not have expected you to be frightened, Miss Tierney. We have met before… even communicated. Besides, you came here seeking me.”
“I’m s-sorry, it’s still a sh-shock.” Lucy clutched at her own throat. “Just give me a minute to catch my breath.”
“It may be useful for you to have a certain degree of fear.” Danielle moved from the window and faced her reluctant guest. “I considered appearing in a different form, in order to make definite that result, but I changed my mind and you see me as I was before I was killed.”
“Is this the way you appeared to Levi?”
“Yes, exactly. Though he struggled with the notion.”
“So he told me. It’s because he thinks you’re even lovelier than in the painting.”
“You don’t agree.” Danielle did not pose it as a question.
“Actually, Levi was correct.”
&nb
sp; “But it would pain you to pay the compliment yourself.”
“I’m not really here to become your best friend forever, Danielle.” She felt slightly bolder. “We have a mutual interest.”
“Our Mr. Muir.”
“Yes. And if we can settle that matter, I’d also like to help you move on, assuming that’s still what you want.”
“It is. I long to see Neddy again.” When the ghostess swept her hand gracefully, the door slowly closed and the latch distinctly clicked.
Lucy shivered. “Why did you lock the door?”
Danielle’s lip curled slightly. “It is important that you know who controls what happens in this meeting.”
“I think I already do.” Lucy held out open hands. “But you should know that I came here in peace.”
“Which is not always the case with groups who harass and agitate spirits.”
“All that is different, Danielle. I’m here as a friend.”
“Not as my friend, however.”
When the ghostess glared, Lucy’s brain felt dizzy. “Can you really read minds?”
“Not everyone’s. The masses walking back and forth and going about their lives just represent a distracting buzz… as though they were millions of bees. But for mortals with whom I have come into contact of one type or another, I have certain insights.”
“So you can read my mind, Danielle?”
“I know many of your thoughts, and most of your fears.”
Lucy shivered. “What do you perceive as my fears?”
“You are not actually much frightened of me as a spirit, but you do worry I have pulled Mr. Muir from your grasp. And I have, to some extent… though only temporarily.” Danielle paused for effect. “You also fear that either I shall remain here or I will finally move on but take Mr. Muir with me. Both of which are yet to be determined.”
“That’s why I came.”
The ghostess motioned to her davenport. “Now, please be seated.”
“Thanks, but for the time being, I think I’ll stand.”
“Oh, I see that you also fear I may take control of your thoughts, as I have some of Mr. Muir’s. You need not worry. You come to this unusual situation armed with defenses he did not possess, so you are comparatively safe. Be seated and let us try to solve your problem and mine.”
