Witchscape

by Y G Maupin

  The driver left and Ronnie took the pizza to the back where most of the officers were sitting around a long conference table. They all were worn out and in different stages of processing everything their small town had gone through.

  “Did anyone talk to Dan?” asked Kimmy, as she grabbed paper plates off a back table.

  “Yeah, he checked in. He’ll be here in about an hour. He was still at the hospital talking to Coach and the Johnson kid,” Ronnie replied.

  “He should be already done because I know that the Johnson kid went in and turned right back around and went home. His parents didn't want him to talk to any media or anything. I think they’re trying to get some kind of exclusive interview or whatever,” Cj said, stuffing his face with salad.

  “Probably a book deal,” added Kimmy. “Anyway the FBI is handling Coach, right?”

  They all nodded. That was a tough situation that had exploded that morning. It had been happening everywhere else but they never dreamed it would happen in their little town.They all knew Coach from one thing or another. They had either gone to school with him, been coached by him or had a parent meeting with him in the last two years. His wife was a sweetheart and they felt bad for her too.

  Brent spoke up with what everyone was thinking. “Guys. This isn't normal. This isn't our town. And as much as you all will disagree with me, I’ve said time and again that there is a presence of evil in this town and a general lack of God in the community that has been contributing to this. I knew it was bound to come to a head.” Groans around the table but Brent continued. “ I know you guys don’t believe and I think that just adds to the problem. Guys and gals,” he added. “We need to recognize that there is a battle going on out there and we are part of the defense. There are evil forces that want to take over and steal our souls from Jesus Christ and I’m not going to let it happen. I just feel it in my heart. There is evil out there and I know we saw it the other night, even though I’m not supposed to talk about that.”

  There was silence in the room. The other officers continued eating, but were digesting the message. Most of the crime that was committed in town could be attributed to poor decisions, lack of parental involvement, and spite on the part of the perpetrator. There was a distinct social and economic division in Gilbert and that contributed to quick finger pointing and vocal distrust of the police department, who was often accused of siding for the more affluent citizens of Gilbert.

  “While I agree that there’s a general loss of faith here, I can't say that it's evil.” Darrell Warren, a rookie officer that had been on the force for seven months responded. “I can tell you, being from the outside, there’s a lot of resentment here in town. A lot of it is a long time people are fighting against the growth in this town. People hate the new subdivisions that are going up. They complain all the time about traffic increasing and how the city slickers are coming in and ruining everything by driving up prices and just generally being rude. “ He stopped to gauge their responses. They were eating but listening. “Gilbert is exploding with new people moving in, and we need to catch up with being able to patrol all areas. I know the county line is inching up closer with every new building and business that comes in, but we can't stop that. Just know that people are pissed and the easiest scapegoat, since the dawn of time, no matter what color or country you’re from, is the new person in town.”

  Randall spoke up. “I’ve got to agree with Darrell. Everytime I get to the quick stop on the corner of main and sixty one, there’s always someone complaining about the traffic and that turns into who got cut off, who has more kids running the streets in what used to be a quiet neighborhood, yadda yadda yadda.” he went on. He was tired of the complainers, mostly because there was no solution that you could offer that they would take or listen to. It was like talking to a wall.

  “In the end. We’ve got more people coming in from the city and lots of times when that happens, they bring their bad habits and bad friends in with them. We need to be on the lookout for what looks out of place, even more so than what we did before,” Brent said seriously.

  “Hang on.” Ronnie broke in. “This stuff that just happened, well they weren't outsiders. They were our people, our community. There’s no way we can say that it's new people that are causing problems,” she spoke out of breath. “Time to face the fact that people snap when the same things are going on in their lives and having new people here to break the mundane is just what Gilbert needs to get with the times.” boos, hisses, and wadded up napkins were thrown her way.

  Dan Pate walked in, pulled out a chair and grabbed a slice of pizza. “People are getting weirder. Just saw a woman step out into traffic in Fort Worth, while I was at the hospital and it looked like she was having a fit as she did it.” he chewed and spoke at the same time. The officers were aghast at the information.

  “Was she on drugs?” Cj asked.

  Dan shrugged. “Don’t know. It just looked like she was going through alot and it was easier for her to end it all. She died at the scene.” he finished the slice and went in for another.

  Brent turned to Kimmy. “See. That woman probably needed God. Life was so bad that she decided to end it all.” Kimmy rolled her eyes at him.

  “I don’t think she needed God,” Dan interjected between bites of pizza. “Because the entire time she was convulsing or whatever was going on she was screaming for him saying she needed help because the devil had gotten into her.” They all sat back and shook their heads. “Yeah, so it wasn’t that God was missing. I think she thought that the devil was inside her.”

  Brent stood up and grabbed a plate and started loading slices of pizza on it. “Folks, get to church, get on your knees and pray tonight and every day like I do that He gives us the strength to fight this fight. The devil is out there, and his minions are in our streets.”

  Twenty Seven

  Alice and Godfrey came back into the fold after everyone re entered the study from taking a break. They waited for them to quiet down to make their announcement.

  “Ladies. We are proposing two changes,” Alice started. Murmurs went around and she put her hands out to quiet them. “After some thought we want to put this out to you all.”

  Godfrey stepped forward. “We need some reinforcements for this convocation. I need to ring up two people, so I’m proposing we postpone it until tomorrow.”

  Cries of disagreement went round and again Alice quieted them.

  “We are too small,” she reminded them. “Our strength is new along with the powers that we have are not completely in our control. Adding these two people will help us with what we need to accomplish tomorrow. Also,” she said in a more serious tone, “Has it slipped your awareness that tomorrow is a full moon? We could harness its strength.”

  “I get it,” Beryl replied. “ What’s the other thing?”

  Alice looked at T. “Godfrey thinks that it's best that we do it at your place. For one, it may have started there. Second, there’s more room and last, it's isolated. We need to be around an open air venue instead of inside this house or in the bookstore.”

  T nodded. “Of course, everyone is welcome. We can head over tonight. I don't have as many rooms as Alice and Sarah do, but please come if you’d like.”

  Sharon spoke up, “Hey, what happened to your guys' housekeeper lady?”

  Alice shrugged and Sarah answered. “We haven't seen her since this morning when she went over to confirm the shots had come from The Henderson home. I couldn't say why she has stayed away.”

  “Maybe she got to live since she was a spirit. Two people died there. You never know,” Birdie offered to the group.

  “That’s true,” Sharon said. “I’m just hoping that the spirits can take a break in getting people killed for one more night. I hate what this is doing to our town and our people.”

  Anesta excused herself and made a call to the funeral home. “Everything ok down there?” she asked. The receptionist was filling in for their regular who had to go home becau
se of the high school shooting.

  “Everything's good, Ms. Anesta,” the young lady said, and Anesta hung up.

  “I think I should go. I'm going to try and see if I can spend some time with Anjolie before she officially goes back. If I can call her, maybe she hasn't left and I can see her again,.” she told them all, picking up her things and heading to the door. “I’ll see you all tomorrow. Call me if anything happens.”

  Sharon smiled at T. “Want some company? Randy won't be home right away tonight because of everything that’s happened. So, I can come visit until the morning and then return in the afternoon.”

  T looked at her friend. “I would love that. Let’s go.”

  Beryl walked over to them,”Would you mind if I tagged along?” she asked meekly. She still wasn't completely sure that they wanted her to join.

  “Yes, Beryl. Please come. Birdie, you coming?” T called out to the young woman, stretching out on the rug.

  “I’m going to try to catch up with my Mom tonight. If I can't connect I’ll call and let you guys know I’m coming over. With wine, of course!” she laughed, and got up to call her mother.

  “Ok so it's settled. Let’s say our goodbyes and get on over there.” T grabbed her bag and kissed Sarah and Alice goodbye.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow. Call me if you need anything.” Alice squeezed her tight.

  “I will,” T replied.

  Carla had seen that the traffic wasn't as heavy in the late afternoon and early evening like it had been that morning. Most of the news vans had parked themselves in the parking lot across the street from the high school and were finishing their five o’clock segments. She had decided to go over to see if there was anything that she could pick up on to get another chance at death.

  “Come on, Sue. Let’s wrap this up. There’s no one else left to interview,” a guy with a throwback Cowboys jersey was calling out to the on the scene reporter. Sue was a pretty redhead that had been craning her head to see if there was anyone she recognized that they could interview. All the parents had taken their kids home and the teachers, and staff were too shaken up to speak to the news people, so she was stuck without any new content to send.

  “This sucks,” she said under her breath, and walked over to the van. Opening the passenger door, she grabbed her purse and pulled out a vaping pen. Clouds of smoke emanated from her auburn locks as her lips pursed around the metal contraption.

  Carla stood behind her. She was trying to think of what she could do when the news woman turned around suddenly and asked. “Can I help you?”

  Carla was caught off guard. Shaking her head she turned around and walked away while looking over her shoulder. Weird. Random people were able to see her but not all the time and most definitely not everyone. She walked back across the school, to the baseball fields in the back past the track. There was a neighborhood that backed into the school fields, and she decided to see if there was anything interesting going on over there. Dinner time. Kids doing homework, People watching tv, especially the news. But at one house, she could distinctly hear a couple fighting. Now there was the sound of glass breaking. This could be an opportunity.

  When Carla reached the domestic disturbance house she was upset to see that the people having the argument already had at least one spirit there. She pushed her way through the front door and hovered in the living room watching the altercation.

  “Carol, you are just too much, you know that?” the man asked, as he ducked from an ashtray being thrown at his head.

  “You jerk! You knew that I wanted to go on that trip with you! Why are you taking her?” Carol asked, throwing sports memorabilia at the man.

  “Because she’s my wife!” he said as he grabbed a commemorative mug from her that she was threatening to bring down on the glass table. Gently he placed it on the floor near the wall. “I have to act like I’m trying to work things out with her, come on. This is going too far!” he exclaimed, as she tore down a framed jersey from the wall.

  Carla watched as the spirit of a young man strode up behind the man under attack and pushed his way through his torso, like he was trying on a suit. He maneuvered his arms through and stomped his legs to make sure that he was fully in. Slowly he made his way towards Carol and proceeded to grab her around the neck. Carol screamed and slipped his grasp. The man kept lumbering forward at an awkward pace, a little like Frankenstein in the old movies. The woman shrieked and ran up on the couch.

  “George, George, What’s gotten into you?” she screamed, as she hopped from the couch to the love seat. The man staggered forward as the spirit struggled to make a connection. Carla thought she could make her way into the woman since the man was already occupied but then the woman grabbed the lamp and brought it crashing down on the man’s head. He wobbled for a moment, giving the woman time to grab her purse and run out the door.

  Carla watched as the spirit was spit out violently by the body and lay on the floor, exhausted from controlling the man. He rolled over and saw Carla watching him.

  “I thought you were there,” he said with a smile. “Are you looking to make the jump too?”

  “Duh” she answered and went to the bedrooms in the back.

  “Where are you going?” he asked, getting up from a crawling position. He still didn't have the hang of the possession part.

  Carla didn't answer. She proceeded to check all the drawers and closet boxes to see if the man had a gun in the house, assuming it was his house.

  “I already checked,” the spirit said from the doorway, where he stood with his arms crossed.

  Carla didn't reply. She checked under the beds and nightstands.

  “Looked there too,” the spirit said, and walked in the room. “Hey, maybe we can help each other,” he said, walking toward her with an extended hand. Carla continued to ignore him. He drew his extended hand back and watched her move pictures to the side, looking for a safe in the wall. Nothing was there but wires and hooks.

  Carla stomped past him and went back to the hallway. She lost her chance with the lady that ran out and now this loser ghost was trying to work as a team with her, Nope, she’d already been screwed over twice. She went into the kitchen and started opening drawers. There was a butcher block on the counter.

  “Too late,” the young man said, watching her peer around the corner to the living room. “He already left.” Angrily, Carla stood in front of the young man, inches from his face.

  “Get lost, creep,” she hissed, and threw the butcher knife at the sink, where she missed and it slipped on the floor.

  “My name’s not creep, It’s Jackson and I want to get back to the living too,” he said calmly.

  Carla squinted her eyes and glared at him. “I. Don't. Care,” she enunciated, and walked away.” I work alone, asshole!”

  Twenty Eight

  Anesta made it back to an empty home. Leaving her purse at the entryway she took off her shoes and started to cry.

  Anjolie had already gone back. She didn't really have that much of an idea as to what she would be doing back at the deathscape, but she thought that if she asked enough times and perhaps spoke to the right people she could get some answers, or at least an explanation as to what was going on with the spirits going over. Anesta had begged her to try to stay and cross over to live, but Anjolie could not be persuaded.

  “No!” she stressed like a child that was being teased. “I don’t want to come back like that. Anesta it's scary. I don't want to see people die or even make them die. You’re used to it because you work in a funeral home and when you see them they’re already dead. But I’ve actually seen people die,” Anjolie was pleading.

  “I want to make you happy, but I don't think you understand how sad it makes me to see people die. Even when I helped that horrible man die, I cried over it. I just don't want to.”

  “We might not ever see each other again,” Anesta had whispered through tears.

  Anjolie nodded. “ I know. But think of it like this. For so long, you
didn't know that I had been by your side. I will find a way to come back. I won't get stuck there. I will come back and If you can remember our secret song, then you’ll know that it's me,” she promised.

  Anesta went back to her room and went to shower. She was drying off when she heard a tapping on her window. At first, she thought she was hearing things, and she was silently hoping that it wasn't a spirit trying to break into her house. She really couldn't handle what Beryl had been through. She stood there in her towel, dripping and listened. Tap tap. There it was again. She inched closer to the window and the next rapping sounded more urgent. Grabbing her robe on the bed, she hurriedly put it on and tiptoed to the window. Slowly moving the curtains to the side, she saw that it wasn't the wind. It was a cat. It looked like Alice and Sarahs, but that was impossible because they lived close to eight miles away.

  “I’m sorry but I don't let in strange cats,” she said through the closed window.

  “Not even those sent by your sister?”